#hello I have feelings about Killian's feelings

[deckerstarblanche]

CSSNS 2024 Entry!!!!!

Hello, friends! After a year and some change, I’m finally back with the conclusion to “An Offer She Can’t Refuse.”

I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 3

As soon as he cracked his eyes open the next morning, Killian knew she was gone. With a frustrated groan, he glared up at the stucco ceiling and flipped over onto his stomach, pressing his face into her pillow and feeling like a fool.

Really, he should have expected this from the beginning. Knowing Emma, her heat had probably finished sometime in the early hours that morning, she took a look at where she was, and who she was with, and bolted.

It’s not like she would go to me as a first choice, he thought to himself. And so Killian closed his eyes, allowing him to feel the hurt and the anguish and the pain, until he stuffed them back down into the part of his brain, where he’d stored all of his worst thoughts about himself for so many years.

And it did hurt, a lot. He knew, deep in his gut, that they were supposed to be together. Her shell of self-protection might be too tough to crack, though. For him, Emma Swan – her laugh, the intoxicating sweet scent that he would be able to pick out blindfolded – would always be his ideal. Now that he had had the chance to actually be with her physically, Killian felt like he’d been granted access to heaven for three glorious days. How could any other woman compare?

Pathetically, he hoped that one day they could still be friends.

When he finally set foot back inside the dorms, the clean, familiarly blank scent in the air confirmed that the filtration system was running smoothly. It was almost as if the past three days had been neutralized as well, leaving only a possibly ruined friendship in its wake.

“Jones? Where the hell have you been?” David asked, concerned etched on his face as Killian entered their room, aggressively tossing his backpack onto his bed.

He narrowed his eyes at David’s suspicious tone, hackles raised. The other man clearly knew something, probably from Emma herself.

“Did you not get the update from your girlfriend?” Killian sneered, unable to resist recklessly channeling all of his pain and anger toward his roommate. “After she got what she wanted, Emma chewed me up and spat me out! Well, I don’t want to talk about it, and I’ll know that you're lying if you tell me otherwise…”

David’s surprise quickly morphed into hostility, and he rose from his computer desk. “What exactly are you accusing me of? Are you gonna cry because a woman finally rejected you? That’s why you don’t fuck around with your friends!” he roared back, forcefully pushing Killian in the chest.

“She needed it– she begged for it, Dave. What kind of a self-respecting Alpha would I be if I said no? It doesn’t matter if it’s your best friend or a complete stranger, right? You’ve got some experience with that yourself, don’t you, eh?” he said crudely, shoving David back as soon as he regained his footing.

“What the hell does that mean? If you want me to kick your ass, say one more thing about Mary Margaret…” David replied in a growl, putting his fists up.

Killian laughed, ready to hit something, preferably David’s face. “Listen, I’m done with every Omega at this school, especially Emma Swan. I’m not the simpering asshole she seems to think I am, and she can come apologize to me if she wants to go back to being ‘just friends.’” he sneered, building a wall of his own ego around his fragile heart.

David put his fists down, hands angrily balled at his sides.

“Fuck you, Jones. If you don’t have enough sense to fight for Emma, then you don’t deserve her!” David thundered, hurling the door open and slamming it shut behind him so hard that the wood nearly cracked off the hinges.

———-

About an hour later, after he had cooled down from his argument with David, Killian heard a hesitant knock on the door. Hoping it was Emma, but unsure, he got up to open it. There she was, standing awkwardly in front of him, shoving her hands in and out of her pockets.

“Killian, I came by to apologize. My leaving wasn’t your fault. I was a coward, so I’ll understand if—” Emma began, but he cut her off, shaking his head.

“No, you don’t get to do that— slink off like everything has been said. I was hurt that you’d left without a trace, and I let that morph into anger. A man’s ego is a fragile thing, Swan…but I want to be a better person than that,” he told her, his blue eyes locked on hers with a penetrating gaze.

Taking a deep breath, he continued.

“Emma. The truth is, I care deeply for you. I have since the first day we met, so when you said that friendship was all you desired, I made my peace with that. But after what we shared last week, I knew that watching from the sidelines would never be enough.”

Killian looked away as soon as Emma did, color rushing to his cheeks. He readied himself for rejection: that speech, no matter how inauthentic it would sound about another woman, would definitely have anyone else melting in my arms, he thought to himself, barely suppressing a chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” he heard a small voice say, and he looked back at Emma, whose eyes were glittering with what looked like tears.

“Nothing, love. I’ve said my piece, and now I’ll give you your space. Hold on, why are you crying?” he asked her cautiously, furrowing his brow.

“I’m not crying, you idiot, I’m just emotional over what you said– there’s a difference!” Emma replied with a watery chuckle, raking her fingers through her hair.

Killian decided to throw caution to the wind.

“And what was it that I said? I want to know so that I can say it again,” he told her, summoning up his most rakish grin.

Emma rolled her eyes, but he knew from the way she blushed that things would be ok for them— maybe even better than ok. She hadn’t spurned him, and she hadn’t stormed out.

“Killian, I care about you too. I cared so much after our…um, time together last week that I freaked out. Big emotions are tough for me, you know that,” Emma admitted, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets.

“I do know that, Swan. I think that’s why we’ve worked so well as friends— we’re both godawful at expressing our feelings,” he began, drawing a few steps closer to her. Emma looked at him with wide eyes, like a deer in the headlights, but he wasn’t going to be put off by that anymore.

“Emma, I’m going to tell you something that I’ve never shared with anyone else before,” he murmured, close enough now that he could tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. She was so attuned to him that she gasped at the innocent contact, making him smile.

“Being with you was the most intimate I’ve ever been, with anybody. I don’t want to go back to the way things were before, and I don’t want anyone else in my bed but you.”

Terrifyingly, Emma was silent, her gaze dropping away from his and going to the floor. Killian felt like his heart was pounding loud enough for her to hear, and that humiliation was imminent.

“Emma, I’m—” he began, but she looked back up, a huge smile lighting up her face. She flung herself forward into his arms, pressing her lips to his, kissing him with what felt like years of pent-up emotion. Then, she pulled away, almost reluctantly.

“I don’t wanna talk. I mean, I know we have a lot to say to each other, but not right now. Just kiss me, ok?” she said breathlessly, tearing off her jacket. Killian barely had time to agree before she nearly jumped into his arms, the force of her excitement knocking them over onto his bed. Clothes were shed quickly, and soon enough he was hovering over her, admiring her golden hair as it spilled out over his pillow.

After one more searing kiss, he rose up, sitting back on his heels as he stroked his hands down her thighs. Emma shivered violently under his touch, as a rush of slick coated her inner thighs from the fairly innocent gesture.

“Oh Killian, please do that again,” Emma sighed, opening her knees wider. Surprised, he let his hands glide from the tops of her thighs all the way down to her knees, watching rapturously as she thrashed beneath him. Every attempt she made to raise her pelvis, to seek him out, was caught by Killian’s firm but gentle grip as he grounded her to the mattress.

“Do you think you could come just from this, love?” he asked, breathing harshly, as it was taking every ounce of his self control not to sheath himself inside her pulsing cunt.

“I…I’m not sure,” she admitted, opening her eyes as she reached up, grabbing the hair on the back of his head to smash her lips against his.

Emma’s kiss was electric and confident, and it made him thank whatever higher power existed in the universe that she’d given him another chance. When she finally tore her lips away, he felt dizzy with anticipation.

“Fuck me, Alpha,” she commanded, grabbing the nearest pillow and shoving it under her ass. Killian’s eyes lit up with amusement at her take-charge attitude, but he was soon distracted by a small warm hand shooting out to stroke his rock-hard length.

“As you wish, Emma, always,” he purred, and without another thought, he plunged in, savoring the feeling of being inside of her again.

They matched each other stroke for stroke, and as the room filled with the sounds of their frantic coupling, Killian realized that it was her first time fucking him with a clear head. She was choosing him, and not out of any desperation.

He was determined to make it last as long as possible, so after a few more thrusts, he rolled them so that Emma was on top, her long hair surrounding them like a curtain. She yelped in surprise, but quickly gained control, setting her own rhythm as she clutched at his chest.

“I seem to remember liking this view of you in particular,” he teased, reaching up to gather her hair with one hand while kissing up the long column of her neck.

“Is that so?” Emma asked breathlessly, moaning as he hit a spot deep inside of her, pinpointing it so he could press up into her as many times as he could. “Fuck, yes… keep going right there, please!”

From the way her inner muscles fluttered against him, he could tell that it wouldn’t be too much longer before she came, so he kept his pace brisk, giving her exactly what she needed. Moments later, Emma exploded, shouting his name as she clamped down like a vise, spasming multiple times. He’d felt it during her heat too, but never with anyone else.

“So fucking tight you are, Emma…so gorgeous when you come,” he praised, murmuring in her ear as she came back to herself, dazed and sated.

“You’re the gorgeous one,” she mumbled, “all of the girls on my floor talk about you like a sex god.”

“And what, pray tell, would you tell them after all of this time we’ve spent together?” Killian asked her playfully, nudging his erection against her inner thigh.

“Hmm…well, I’d definitely mention your impressive stamina,” she quipped, pumping her hand up and down his shaft.

“And then I’d tell them that they’d never find out for themselves because you’re MY Alpha,”

The sound of those words coming out of her mouth set Killian’s libido on fire. Quicker than lightning, he flipped her over on the mattress.

“If I’m your Alpha, that makes you my Omega, does it not?” Killian thundered, using a tone that their kind referred to as uniquely Alpha. While it may have been used in the past to force Omegas to submit, contemporary couples used it to spice up bedroom play.

“Yes!” she squeaked with delight, lifting herself up to hands and knees.

“Then present for your Alpha,” he ordered, slapping her on the ass. Immediately, she knelt, pressing her chest down as she sank further back onto her heels.

“Is this what you wanted, Alpha?” she asked sweetly, playing along with the game, which was about mutual consent rather than domination.

“Bloody perfect,” he growled, easing himself into her channel inch by inch, trying to prolong the moment they gave themselves to each other.

They were both so keyed up, emotionally and physically, from the events of the day that Emma cried out almost immediately, unable to stave off a powerful orgasm. Killian held on, pumping into her with determination to satisfy her as much as he could.

“I want your knot, and if you’re really an Alpha, you’ll give it to me,” Emma faux-jeered from below, all a part of the game.

“Are you sure you can handle it?” Killian bit out, watching as drops of his sweat beaded on her back.

“You fucking know it!” she shouted, clenching down on him as encouragement. It was an almost primal moment, the two of them acting on instinct instead of emotions; and moments later, he was coming, locking their bodies together as streams of cum filled her womb.

It took awhile for them both to come back to Earth, floating in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss. Killian felt her sigh contentedly, burrowing a bit closer as he covered them in his downy comforter.

“I’m so glad it’s you, Killian,” Emma told him sleepily, looking back so she could kiss him one last time. He smiled into her neck, gathering her into his arms with a feeling of completeness and affection.

“I couldn’t agree more, love.”

[xoxoskai]

THE WHITE MASK THEORY;

PART TWO

Before I go into detail about Ava and her relationships with the Heathens, I want to clarify a few things.

I wasn't aware that Rina had confirmed that we haven't met WM yet. A lot of you pointed it out in the previous post and that's how I found out. However, I think it's even more anti-climactic if it's someone we haven't met so far to be WM because there will be no excitement involved in the grand reveal. A five-book buildup for it to be someone completely new is not dramatic or shocking at all. It'll be like the no-name nanny being the villain in God of Ruin. Most people, me included, were dumbfounded at the reveal and of course, Maya's ridiculous fall from grace.

How are you going to look at normal sibling jealousy and kidnap the sister because you thought it would do justice to the other one? You're telling me the Bratva with Kyle-fricking-Hunter, Rai-mother-Sokolov, Adrian-Daddy-Volkov as the Obschak and Kirill-dilf-Morozov as the Pakhan couldn't track down the silly nanny who kidnapped a mafia princess for shits and giggles? That they haven't been able to for the past decade? Make it make sense.

It would have made a lot more sense for it to be the Irish mafia back for more revenge.

Now, Eli King.

I swear, his character is all kinds of perfectly mysterious, makes him such an enigma.

Eli being awol most of the time can perhaps make him WM. Infact, him telling Killian "It's nothing personal, family business" before they waterboarded him could imply a lot more.

(Plus, Eli was the one carrying Niko out when he stabbed himself to save Jeremy and thus, missed Creigh getting shot.)

However, this also shows that Eli prioritizes his family over a game of tag with mafia heirs and the Heathens trying to off Creighton for being with Annika is not something he would let slide. Maybe he is closer to them than he lets on but Eli participating in the initiation feels like a far cry. Especially because Creigh has specifically mentioned that Eli is more of a strategist type, not known to use his fists to absolutely destroy someone.

Eli having his own inside contacts feels like a given. And I do believe it's a huge give-and-take type of scenario. Eli, heir to the King Empire, I'm sure realizes the importance of having connections. Especially connections with the mafia. I'm guessing his point of contact would be Killian in that scenario.

Interestingly, someone I accidentally left out in my observations is Kayden.

For everyone who doesn't know who Kayden is, he made his first appearance in God of Ruin and is confirmed to be Gareth Carson's love interest.

In my defense, we haven't seen a lot of him at all. But is he a viable candidate? Absolutely. Would I be disappointed to see him as WM? Absolutely not.

What, however, will disappoint me is that Gareth Carson being the green mask and Kayden being the WM, DO NOT GET A BOOK. AND THAT IS TOO CRUEL. AN MLM, PROFESSOR X STUDENT WHERE THEY ARE BOTH PARTAKING IN THE INITIATION FOR WHATEVER GOD-FORSAKEN REASON AND IT BEING THE PEAK OF FORBIDDEN ROMANCE IS,

You guessed it,

Not getting a book.

This is the exact same reason why I ruled out Remi Astor as well. If WM is simply meant to be a side character, why would they be such an enigma? Why is there not a book?

Kayden also checks a lot of the WM boxes of

Being leaner than the rest, hello he's a professor. He's not going to be fighting for his life every day in the mafia (or he might, we don't know his origins)

Cherry would not be able to seduce him. Kayden plays for the same team so, yes, it makes sense.

In the epilogue of God of Wrath, we see Jeremy proposing an initiation where they chase a pre-decided target only. We know why Nikolai, Killian and Jeremy would appreciate it, Gareth was not having it, but WM was. (It feels like repetition but Gods, the hatecrime it is to not have their book).

But the prospect of the Heathens allowing a professor at their university into the mix seems a little far-fetched. Not to mention, I think it was clearly stated that Kayden had arrived at Brighton recently and there was no mention anywhere of WM being a recent member.

Now, Ava Nash.

Remember I said, "Eli realizes the importance of having connections with the mafia"? That it's a give and take? If Ava Nash is really WM,

Do we really believe Eli wouldn't know?

Do we really believe he would not be keeping tabs on her?

Now, the million-dollar question is - what do the Heathens gain from forming an alliance, as discreet as it is, with Eli King?

The most I can think of is, Brighton is basically RES' turf. The Heathens are far from their powerful parents and between the mafia and the powerful families of London, The Kings, The Nashs, The Knights and The Astors hold a lot more power and influence. At some point, I'm sure they would call in a favor when the times comes for it, to wipe out the Irish mafia's main base or whatever it is these people want to do.

Would Eli really not keep tabs on Ava after two of her closest friends start dating two leaders of the Heathens?

Between all the Heathens and Ava, I think she has the most complicated and interesting relationship with Jeremy.

"Say the word and I'll bring him to you?" Bestie hasn't exchanged a single word with that man as far as we know.

"When she's not around?" What context and scenario would lead Jeremy to meet Ava when Cecily isn't around? ("Break Ava"? Bro we know you're a mafia prince but the little princeling of the King household would uproot your family if you tried. )

Jeremy, as the leader, obviously knows who the WM is.

The scene is God of Wrath where Cecily is following Ava outside before encountering Jeremy is single-handedly carrying my theory.

-> Ava, drunk, still seemed to know her way around the forest behind the Heathens mansion despite only exploring it once with Cecily and Annika (God of Pain, Chapter 5)

-> Jeremy, when spotted at the beginning, is wearing a jacket that he's discarded by the time he finally encounters Cecily. Unless my man wants to flex his Russian roots and channel his inner Queen of Arendelle, it does not make sense for him to lose his jacket when stepping out of the house.

-> Cecily is tracking Ava using an app on her phone when she suddenly changes directions back towards the house at an alarming speed that indicates she was on the back of a motorbike.

This brings me to my theory that-

It is not surprising that Jeremy was out of the house as soon as Cecily was. Which means, he'd have gone ahead and intercepted Ava first to send her back. His jacket is missing cuz, she was wearing a short skirt and was going back on a motorbike, so she needed coverage.

Yes, shocker that Jeremy is being civil to her, but I need to remind you this is much earlier than him falling for Cecily + the entire AnniCreigh shitshow. So, if Ava is really WM, to some extent, he was probably civil with her.

Either Ava went back with a bodyguard or someone else with connections to the mafia (*cough* Heir of the King Empire *cough*) was informed and came to pick her up.

The Heathens would gladly form an alliance with Eli just for inside intel about their girls all the time and vice versa if Ava really is WM.

Interestingly, according to the timeline, this is also the part where in God of Pain, Creighton tells Eli that if he's so bored, he should go to Ava and gets "If I go to her, I'll kill her" in response.

Is this because he found her wandering by herself through the forest at midnight?

Is this because she refuses to disassociate with the Heathens?

Theories, theories, everywhere.

Now, if Ava is really WM, why would Jeremy make her cry?

Because Ava made Annika cry, It's that simple.

When I tell you it's only Landon King and Killian Carson who don't care about their siblings, I mean it. Jeremy and Annika are obviously close enough to want to die for one another and if someone comes up to your sibling and calls them a murderer after they shoot someone to protect you, yeah, I'd have a vendetta against that person too, part of my cult or not.

Jeremy obviously hated Cecily at some point for it too. At how easily they all abandoned Annika and while I understand that she was new to their group as compared to Creighton who they've known their whole lives, Ava might have taken it too far by calling Annika a murderer, something Jeremy obviously heard of.

In Ava's defense, they probably felt guilty for ever including Annika in their group and causing the chain reaction of Creighton falling for her because it led to him being in a coma.

Naturally, Jeremy doesn't care about that. Ava name-calling Anni became personal to him because 1, she's his baby sister and 2, Annika was in that predicament cuz she shot Creigh for him.

At the same time, I was really mad at Cecily for not defending her childhood best friend because whatever happened to sisters before misters? Sometimes the girls only seem like friends to me for the sake of the plot considering how little they know of each other.

In God of Malice, when Killian swaps in for Nikolai and is about to go against Creighton, who is giving Glyndon a run-down about the Heathens?

Go ahead and take a guess.

How, and I can't say this enough, does she know so much in excruciating detail about the Heathens when she's never interacted with them, and they are from a completely different university? Everyone always asks her how she knows so much, and she deflects with -You have to be living under a rock to not know- when the actual situation is that no one but Ava knows so much.

You seriously can't believe the Heathens are observant to the point of knowing every little, tiny detail about their girlfriends, quirks only a childhood friend would know?

And no, Eli King, close ally or not, would not divulge all this freely. You know who would? Someone who wants to see their girlfriends get laid and happy.

I think the most fascinating thing about Ava being the WM is that I can't, frankly, think of a single reason why she would be a part of the Heathens except that she thrives on chaos (hello daughter of Cole Nash).

But it is entirely plausible that if the Heathens send initiation invites to the Elites who never attend it, chances of Ava swiping the QR code thru someone's phone is very likely.

What does Ava bring to the Heathens?

Honestly? No idea. If it was in exchange for being close to their respective s/o, it'd make sense, but WM is already part of the initiation way before God of Malice.

Did they have a particular initiation to recruit a fifth member for their close circle? Probably. Were they looking for someone who'd be willing to betray the Elites? Maybe. If Landon and Ava have a completely different type of understanding between them, do we really believe Landon to be above using Ava to spy for the Heathens? If no, why the Heathens would still allow her among them remains a mystery. Did they not know who she was related to? Did she pass the initiation with flying colors and show potential to be a part of the inner circle?

(Eli is family man first, which is why I can't see him being a Heathen)

What I do know is that Ava feels lonely among her own circle. With all her friends now spending more time with their boyfriends, she feels alone (God bless Remi, he's going to be such a good brother-in-law after being an already awesome friend to her).

I also believe that if Ava would tell anyone she was part of the Heathens, it'd be Remi. They are a lot closer than they portray.

You know who else was shit at keeping secrets, was out-going, definitely the social butterfly of the group but had a truckload of demons in their closet? Ronan Astor.

This is why, I refuse to underestimate Ava. "Disappears like a ghost" is a very interesting choice of words.

Besides, if she's really WM, she's so unserious.

Also, possible foreshadowing?

Anyways, considering Ava is also pretty close to Brandon, we'll be seeing a lot of her in God of Fury which will finally reveal who WM is. She has no interactions so far with Nikolai or Gareth for me to deduce anything between them so 6th December, we'll find out!

For now, and perhaps always (I'll reject canon I don't care) my suspect is Ava, who's yours?

[mizusswordtip]

Down The Rabbit Hole ⚝ Killian Jones x Reader (3)

find the story on wattpad

summary: Alice's plan to overthrow the Queen of Hearts is thwarted by a dashing pirate with a hook. Years later, after the curse is broken, they reunite once again.

masterlist

wc: 1,024

I’ve been walking for about ten minutes when I walk up a steep slope and find a large tree house nestled in with the winding trees. The tree house is beautifully crafted with two stories and even balcony with more flowers growing on them. I stare at it for a moment in wonder before approaching. As I go to knock on the door with stained glass windows, it swings open and a man looks at me, seemingly in shock. The man is wearing a peculiar top hat and has curly brown hair that reaches past his ears. He simply stares at me.

“Hello.” I say softly, hoping to break the awkward silence, with a small smile.

“Alice?” He breathes out and tears form in his eyes as a large grin overtakes his face. Before I can ask him how he knows me he’s pulling me into the tightest hug I’ve ever received. My eyes widen and I hesitantly laugh along with him as he spins me around. He puts me down, putting his hands on my shoulders to look at me properly.

“I know you don’t remember me.” He says somewhat somberly.

“I-Have we met before?” I ask with a kind smile. I don’t know what it is about this man but I do feel a strange connection between us, as if I already know him. I can’t recall ever even seeing him before, let alone knowing him though.

“Yes. My name’s is Jefferson. I-i know you don’t know me but you said once you would help me. You promised. I need you to keep that promise, Alice.” He says emphatically with pleading eyes.

“I’ll help you however I can, though I’m unsure what I’m even helping you to do.” I say with a chuckle and a reassuring hand on his own that’s still resting on my shoulder. His entire face lights up and without a second to say anything else he pulls me into the tree house by my hand. I let out an embarrassing yelp at the sudden movement but try to keep pace.

As we enter what must be the dining room I see a table covered in porcelain dishes and tea cups with little finger foods. Sitting at the table are two…people? It feels rude to call them animals. Though I imagine if I were an animal, I probably wouldn’t be offended if someone called me one. Maybe I would only be offended if a human called me one. What kind of animal would I be?

I snap out of my racing thoughts when I see the white rabbit I had been following down the rabbit hole. My eyes light up in recognition and right as I’m about to say something the other guest hurls a tea cup right at my head so I duck.

“You’re late for tea!” The other guest shouts and I realize he’s a hare. I look at him affronted.

“How can I be late when I was never invited to begin with?” I ask incredulously. The hare looks terrified and hides behind his ears.

“Alice, this is McTwisp.” Jefferson finally chimes in, gesturing towards the white rabbit.

“Welcome home Alice.” McTwisp says with a genuine smile I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Home. the word warms my heart in a way I haven’t felt since before my father passed.

“I’ve met you as well?” I ask in delight. McTwisp nods his head proudly in response.

“And this is The March Hare.” Jefferson says, pointing to the hare who’d nearly cracked my skull open with a teacup. At the mention of his name he hides under the table. I let out an amused laugh unintentionally, a feeling of fondness coming over me. A feeling that’s old, like a memory that’s not my own.

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

We all sit at the table having tea and talking when I decide to ask Jefferson a question. “What exactly do you need my help with.” The mood immediately drops and Jefferson’s face turns deadly serious.

“The Queen of Hearts.” He says, voice filled with malice and hatred. I furrow my brows in concern.

“The Queen of Hearts?” I prod skeptically. “Like the card?”

He nods his head, not looking at me, lost in a memory. “She’s the queen of this land, and she destroyed my life and everyone else in Wonderland.” He says darkly, making the hairs on my arms stand up.

“What did she do?” I ask softly, placing my hand over his, grounding him back to the present. He looks at me sadly.

“I have a daughter, Grace.” He tells me and I feel shocked but I’m immediately filled with sympathy, assuming the worst. “I traveled to this land to help someone, so I could make money so me and my daughter could live comfortably. “But I was betrayed, left here at the whim of The Queen of Hearts.” He pauses to pull down his shirt, showing off his neck to reveal a large scar that wraps around his neck. I look at him in shock, eyes filled with sympathy.

“Why haven’t you stopped her?” I ask, voice quiet.

“Because only you can stop her. You must take the throne.” He says emphatically. My heart skips anxiously at his words.

“Me? I can’t even tie a corset, let alone overthrow someone that powerful.” I say through an incredulous laugh. He looks at me, eyes intense with sadness.

“You don’t believe anymore.” He says, almost to himself. “You have to! We’re all doomed if you don’t!” He shouts, his face turning panicky and I feel my heart rate pick up speed.

“Believe?” I say with a disbelieving laugh. “This is all just a dream.”

At that, he gets up, standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders. “Even the queen knows you can defeat her, that’s why she cursed you. She cursed you so you would forget everything about Wonderland.” He says with a squeeze of my shoulders. I look up at him for a long moment in consideration.

“I want to wake up now.” I say firmly, closing my eyes tightly.

When I open them, I’m still here.

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

-if you're enjoying the story, I'd really appreciate if you could leave a like or comment and go over to wattpad and vote so my story can reach more people :) thank you!

[noodyl-blasstal]

Living Well is Super Swell - Best Served Cold Chapter 7

It's day 7 of @tazsapphicweek and that means it's the final chapter of Best Served Cold. Prepare yourselves for some fluff!

Read below or on Ao3. Missed the start? Here's ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, and ch 6.

-

“Surprise!” They shout as Raven gently removes the blindfold from Istus.

Obviously Raven has already pre-prepared her, Istus likes to know what’s coming, but she still thinks it’s very sweet that they wanted to surprise her.

“Oh… oh goodness!” Despite the warning she’s still surprised by the amount of people here to join them. There’s the usual, wonderful suspects of course; but there’s also customers, people from the community projects, and the other shops too. Well, most of them, one pair of proprietors are conspicuously absent.

Istus doesn’t try and hide her joyful tears, why should she? “You’re all so wonderful!” She chokes out. “Thank you.”

Raven presses a handkerchief into her hand. “Here you are. Are you okay?”

Istus nods and leans into Raven’s side, her presence a constant source of comfort. Istus is fairly sure she could face the end of the world with her and feel a sense of peace.

“There’s one more surprise!” Carey shouts as she runs towards them and barrels into Istus’ open arms.

“Is it this hug?” Istus asks.

Killian laughs as she approaches, guiding a man wearing all black, gravity defying platform boots, and a fantastic amount of spider themed jewellery. “ No, Istus. It’s not the hug.” She gestures at the man with her. “This is Brian, he’s a photographer.”

“Hello darlings.” Brian says pleasantly. “This is going to be a lovely little photoshoot isn’t it?”

“Come on!” Carey wriggles free and drags Istus towards the benches.

Istus automatically sticks her hand out to grab Raven’s and tugs her along behind them, laughing all the way.

“Is this why you told me to dress in something I loved?” She asks over her shoulder, Carey an unstoppable force in front of her.

“Nope, this one was all them, I just wanted you to be comfortable.” Raven looks perplexed, but happy enough.

Hopefully she’s okay, she’s not always big on unexpected plans. Istus squeezes her hand, hoping to beam some comfort to her.

“Here you go! Get on the table.” Carey shoos them towards one of the bench seats. It’s Istus’ favourite, dark blue with silvery stars and lots of sparkly bits.

“I have a vision, we’re here to celebrate the tables, to celebrate you. I want to feel the joy! Feel the love!” Brian starts to back away, releasing his camera from a complex series of straps as he does.

“He’s really good, I promise.” Killian stage whispers.

“Madame?” Raven offers her arm. “May I help you onto this beautiful picnic bench?”

“Oh you’re too kind.” Istus says conversationally. “It is beautiful though, isn’t it? It has to be, I painted for a beautiful woman, I think of her every time I see it.” Istus takes Raven’s hand and pushes herself up onto the table, using the bench as a footrest. “If you come up here and join me I’ll let you in on a secret.”

Raven laughs and takes the hand Istus offers to help pull her up. She wobbles slightly, but Istus has her, and Raven flops successfully down next to her.

Istus leans in to whisper in her ear. “I put this one here so I can see it from the counter. Then I can think about you all day long.”

Raven turns, laughing, and kisses her quickly.

“You’re perfect.” Raven says against her lips.

“I’m not.” Istus won’t have any of that.

“You’re perfect for me.” Raven amends.

Istus can’t argue with that, so she kisses her back instead.

–

Are they ever going to stop?” Sloane asks Hurley.

The claps and cheers have settled into a slightly awkward slow clap.

“No.” Hurley replies. “But that’s why we’ve got Carey.”

She gives the nod.

Carey aims the hose very carefully and mists the air above Istus and Raven. It’s enough to shake them out of it.

“Sorry everybody!” Istus looks slightly shame faced.

“I’m not!” Raven shouts.

Istus leans in and whispers something to her, they both laugh.

“Right, who’d like some refreshments? I’m sure I have some cake out the back and…”

Istus’ musing is interrupted by Killian, who gently picks her up from the table and places her back on the ground, then holds an arm out for Raven. (Who doesn’t get the same joy out of being zooped through the air as Istus.)

There’s ice cream, there’s cake, there’s biscuits, and there’s so much joy. It’s a perfect celebration.

–

In the aftermath, they lounge around the kitschy counter in the shop.

“Thank you all.” Istus says, grabbing her trusty scoop. “Now who wants what?”

“We should celebrate your tables more often, this was fun.” Killian says. “My usual please, Istus.” She adds.

Istus scoops diligently and hands it over, sticking a flake in the precarious mountain of ice cream (so maybe she’s overserving today, maybe they deserve it.)

“Thank you!” Killian looks positively delighted.

“Dealer’s choice.” Says Sloane. “I trust you.”

“So you should.” Istus starts working on Sloane’s mystery cone. “Afterall, look how things worked out!” Istus smiles happily.

“What…er, what do you mean sorry?” Carey’s the one who breaks the moment of tense silence.

“Well, just like I told you girls, the best revenge is living well!” Istus adds another scoop to Sloane’s already precarious ice cream. “There’s no need for extreme action, everyone will get their comeuppance.” Istus smiles and hands the cone over. “Who’s next?”

“You’re so right.” Hurley says quickly.

“So right.” Echoes Raven, who definitely looks twitchy.

Sloane just clears her throat.

Istus adores them all.

–

“Istus! The photos are here! They put them on a stick!” Raven grabs it from the envelope and cracks open her new laptop. Well, her ‘new to her’ laptop, Kravitz said it would be faster than the computer and if she liked it they could pick out an actual new one together.

“Oooooh! That was quick!” Istus turns from the hob. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Raven plugs the stick in on the third try and clicks her way through to the folder. She doesn’t start without Istus though, it wouldn’t be right.

“Okay. Coffee for you, tea for me.” Istus sets the mugs down. “And a scone because you deserve a treat.” She places the plate to Raven’s side, kisses her on the cheek, and settles in the chair. “Okay, ready!”

Raven clicks twice and opens up magic.

“Oh.” They say together.

Istus and Raven are at the centre of the frame on the bench made of silvery stars in an inky blue evening sky. They’re completely wrapped up in each other, no attention paid to the camera. Raven clicks the next one and the setting is the same but now they’re laughing, then they’re kissing, then the camera has pulled back and Hurley and Sloane and Carey and Killian are on their own benches respectively and their friends and customers are in the background and it’s perfect. Picture perfect.

Raven arranges for two prints and is delighted by how fast they arrive. There’s one of them kissing, still laughing, radiating joy. It goes up in the lounge so she can look at it every day. The second one, though, the second one brings her joy in a different way. There’s a whole crowd of people around them as they wave from their tables, friends and colleagues and customers. But in the back, easily missable if you don’t know they’re there, are two twin faces etched in sour disappointment. Raven loves that they captured victory and defeat all in one shot.

–

In a dark shop, lights switched off so no one feels emboldened to come by and make yet another ridiculous complaint, Edward sniffs the air and wrinkles his nose. “Lydia? Why does it smell like fish?”

[sanityshorror]

Hello :3

Can you elaborate on Cians relationship with Julius??? I'm really curious about that especially after the post abt Cians personality.

Yes yes yes of course!!!

Julius and Cian have what can only accurately be described as a friendship, albeit Julius refuses to acknowledge he has friends, and Cian would never call someone his friend first.

Cian was 13 when he first met (a still human) Julius. Despite Julius being 23, the two formed a friendship just due to Julius's immaturity and in plenty of ways, being mentally stunted in his teenage years. Julius specifically found it funny because Cian would verbally go toe to toe with Killian right off the bat.

Julius has never held any sort of authority figure in Cian's life, not a mentor and certainly not a parent. He's just Julius to Cian, a whacky nut job who Cian finds all too relatable in many aspects.

Julius is definitely the only one who has called out Cian on certain things and, when done in private, Cian didn't even bother trying to deny, just told Julius he'd stab him if he ever said shit. Julius is shockingly good at keeping his mouth shut when he wants to, and he did keep his promises to Cian - for better or worse.

"you can't bullshit a bullshitter," is something Julius has regularly told Cian, and even though Cian is aware that others do see through his bullshit of "I don't have trauma, I don't have problems!" Julius is really the only one that Cian has (in his own way) outright admitted it to. He'd never admit anything to Killian out of fear of Killian seeing him as weak (but, again, Cian's relationship is an entire can of worms I'm not ready to bust open lol).

If there's any specifics, feel free to ask! But tldr, friends, genuine friends. Always have been -🔫👨‍🚀

[darerendevil]

For archive purposes: October, 2012

A lean, slight, tousled figure in a sailor-striped T-shirt and buckle-back trousers, Cillian Murphy walks into an upscale Japanese restaurant in downtown Manhattan. As he says hello, sits down, and looks around the room with his extraordinary ultramarine blue eyes, I form my first impressions: kind, gentle, sensitive, good-humoured, with no visible traces of the villains, psychopaths and other tortured souls he has played so convincingly on stage and screen. He also looks a little weary, and there is good reason for this.

“I’ve had kind of a crazy week this week,” he says in a mellifluous Irish accent with a rich grainy timbre. “I was in the Ukraine for a film festival. I’ve been all over America promoting a film called Red Lights, which I’m in with Robert De Niro. Yesterday was The Dark Knight Rises premiere here in New York, and this afternoon we fly to London for the next premiere. It’s all part of the job, I suppose, but it’s certainly not the reason why you do it.”

The waiter arrives with water and menus, and after some study, Cillian (pronounced Killian) decides on a salad of shitakes and market greens, followed by the sashimi. “I’m a vegetarian who occasionally eats meat and fish,” he says. “I like a drink too, but I won’t just now. I’ll stick with water.” I order the Kobe beef and ask the waiter to bring out a glass of red wine with it.

Some actors enjoy talking about themselves and their films, and they do it well. Cillian does not count himself among them. “I’m getting less hung about it, but when I started, the whole promotion aspect was an ordeal to be endured,” he says. “I just don’t have a great facility for it. I try to be interesting and spontaneous but it’s so hard when you get asked the question fifty or a hundred times over. You hear your little anecdotes going stale. Yes, it was fantastic to work with Robert De Niro, but you can only say it so many times, you know? I’ve always thought, just judge me on the work. What else matters? I’m an actor and that’s what I do.”

There’s an assumption in the media that actors are all competing in the same horse race for A-list stardom, and that an actor like Cillian Murphy, who seems poised on the very brink of it, with the perfect combination of looks and talent, must surely be yearning to get there. Journalists find it hard to accept when he tells them that that the only thing he cares about is the work, and the rest of it is to be endured. But this is why he avoids celebrity parties and keeps himself out of the gossip pages. He attends his own premieres, because he has to, but he won’t go to anyone else’s and he dreads the four-minute television interview on the red carpet.

Off screen, he lives a quiet, normal life that he likes to keep as private as possible. He’s married to Yvonne McGuinness, a visual artist, and they’ve been together since he was 20. They have two sons, Malachy and Aran, and shuttle between their house in North West London and the ancestral sod of County Cork.

“I’ve always felt that the less the public knows about you, the more effective you can be when you go to portray someone else,” he says.“For actors to reveal so much about themselves, and allow their personal selves to be owned by the media and the public, I find at odds with trying to lose yourself in a character. And that’s the thing I’m after. That’s what drives me. I’m 36 now, and I still have a real hunger for it.”

He thinks the desire to perform for an audience is something genetic, a personality trait that lives in the DNA, and it first expressed itself in his youthful attempts to be a rock star.“Of all the arts, music is still the one that affects me on the deepest level,” he says. “My parents were teachers, not artistic types, but there was always music in the house, and all four of us kids learned to play music. I was in a few different bands, playing guitar, singing and songwriting.”

One of those bands was called The Sons of Mr Greengenes, after the Frank Zappa song. They were offered a five-album deal by Acid Jazz records, but turned it down, because the deal was a swindle and Cillian’s parents disapproved of the music business. At the same time, Cillian recognised that he’d reached the ceiling of his musical talent, and would never be as good as he wanted to be. He went to law school in Cork “for no good reason,” and then one day he wandered into a production of Clockwork Orange staged in local nightclub.

“If your first theatre experience is a bad one, it’s unlikely you’ll go back,” he says. “But my first theatre experience was an extraordinary one. It was dangerous and sexy and electric, and just astonishing. I’ll always love music, but here was another form of live performance, just as exciting.”He pestered the theatre company, and after some starter roles, he was cast in the lead of Disco Pigs, a strange and brilliant play by Enda Walsh about a sick, twisted, obsessive relationship between a deranged boy and a slightly less deranged girl next door. The play was a huge success, touring for several years, reaching as far afield as Toronto and Copenhagen, and in 2001 it was made into a film. Pale, beautiful and androgenous, with outsized lips and impossibly blue eyes, Cillian Murphy looks as though he drifted down to earth from some other galaxy, or floated up from a cave kingdom beneath the Irish Sea. This ethereal, otherworldly quality has been a great asset to him as an actor, and many of his films have taken place in imaginary realms or the future.

His big breakthrough came in 2002 when he was cast as the lead in Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later, and required to fight his way through a post-apocalyptic London full of zombies. He went to outer space in Boyle’s Sunshine, and Gotham City for Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy, in which he plays the sinister psychologist Scarerow. Nolan cast him again in Inception, as the target man for Leonardo DiCaprio’s team of dream-jackers.He’s also played a transvestite for Neil Jordan in Breakfast On Pluto, a creepy villain for Wes Craven in Red Eye, and a reluctant freedom fighter turned zealot for Ken Loach in The Wind Shakes The Barley, an epic about the Irish war of independence set in his native Cork. In all, he’s done 26 feature films, and while some of them haven’t turned out as well as he hoped, there are no bad or stupid films in his biography.

“You have to go in with good faith, and believe that this is best performance you’re ever going to give,” he says. “I’ve never done a film I didn’t believe in. I’ve never done a film for the money. Fortunately, I’ve been in some big budget films that were smart, and the money has given me the freedom to do small budget films and theatre that I’ve felt passionately about. An example is this movie Broken, which is a kind of version of To Kill A Mockingbird transposed to contemporary London. It’s a tiny, tiny budget film, and I’m just so proud of it. It’s such an emotionally brave piece of film-making.”Another example is Misterman, a one-man play that he performed earlier this year in Ireland, Brooklyn and London. Written by Enda Walsh, who got him started in Disco Pigs, and has become a close friend, it required him to play seven different characters imagined by the main character, and earned him the best reviews of his entire career. “It was incredibly exhausting and incredibly satisfying. Sometimes I was doing two performances a day. I don’t think I’ve ever been so tired, or so happy. It was very pure. It was all about the work. The commerce aspect was tiny, compared to when you make a film, and there was none of the waiting around.”

The waiter sets down two beautifully presented plates, one of sashimi and one of beef, and pours me a particularly delicious glass of Bordeaux. Seeing the expression of delight on my face when I taste the wine, Cillian says, “You know what? I’ll have a glass as well then. I do like my red wine.” Then the conversation collapses into silence, grunts,and occasional exclamations, as our chopsticks deliver one morsel of culinary artistry after another into our mouths. This restaurant, 15 East, was recently named one of the best in New York, and for both of us, it’s one of the best meals of our lives. “Absolutely sensational,” says Cillian, who is finding no problem at all drinking red wine with sushi.

When the plates are empty, I ask him what it feels like to become a character. Is it a genuine transformation, or it just a matter of dressing up and pretending to be someone else? “It’s not always the same,” he says. “Some characters are just a slight adjustment, and some are a great distance away from you. I like to do research. I was playing a professional debunker in this movie Red Lights about the supernatural, so I went and hung out with physicists and professional sceptics and magicians, to understand that community. Actors tend to know a lot superficially about a great deal of things.”

I press him again: what does it feel like when you’re in character? “It’s most satisfying on the stage,” he says. “If it reaches the point of being transcendent, where you’re not actually conscious of being on stage performing, because you’re only aware of the character and his world and his needs, well, that’s what you’re always aiming for, that’s the moment that theatre people are always chasing. It’s the ultimate rush, if you will, for an actor, when the self disappears completely.”

One glass of Bordeaux leads to another. The waiter asks if we want dessert, and Cillian says no thanks, and I order something called a Shiratama parfait of red beans, matcha jelly and green tea ice cream.When it arrives, it is multi-coloured and visually spectacular with many more ingredients, and Cillian says, “Wow, look at that. My goodness, I might have to get a spoon of that.”

We both dig in, exploring an extraordinary combination of flavours and textures, with gums, jellies, brioche, red bean paste and more. “Oh man, what’s that green stuff?” he says, mining the lower layers now. “I have no idea what that is. It’s got that gummy vibe going on again. Fecking amazing.”

With a drop more wine, Cillian gets talking with great enthusiasm about books and music. Have I read the Irish writer John Banville, one of his favourites? Do I know the seminal jazz album Bill Evans Live At the Village Vanguard? Cillian found it recently on vinyl, being a great admirer of Bill Evan’s understated piano playing, and firmly convinced that vinyl is still the best way to listen to music. He loves Frank Zappa, Captain Beefheart, Van Morrison, Jack White, and the Irish writers Pat McCabe, Sebastian Barry and the late, great, mindbending Flann O’Brien. Cillian is signed up for the film version of O’Brien’s satirical postmodern comedy At-Swim-Two-Birds, along with Gabriel Byrne, Colin Farrell and Michael Fassbender, and he hopes it will go into production soon.

“I’m also hoping to do some telly,” he says. “The smart mid-budget movie, which has been my bread and butter, has been squeezed out quite a bit. People are very reluctant to take a chance on a smart $17 million movie. They’d much rather throw everything into a dumb $250 million movie. But you don’t find that in TV where the writing just gets better and better, and you’ve the opportunity to develop a character over many hours.”

When you’re interviewing an actor, it’s always difficult to know if you’re witnessing a performance or the real person, but I get the distinct impression that Cillian Murphy is not only a nice guy, but maybe even happy and fulfilled. Is this true? “Well, the insecurity is always there,” he says. “It’s a necessary aspect of being an actor, or a writer for that matter. You have to have that insecurity. I used to feel like a failed musician pretending to be an actor, but that’s less of a worry now. I’ve found my form, I’ve found the right outlet for my impulse to create, and yes, I’m pretty happy. I don’t believe you have to be a tortured person in order to make great art. It needn’t always come from a place of pain, although there seems to be a romantic view of that.”

When he was a boy, all he wanted to do was hang around with artists and creative people, but he was stuck in a school in Cork where rugby and academia were the only things people seemed to care about. “Now, weirdly, I’ve found myself in a position where all my friends are artists. It’s a good place to be, I think, and that’s a real source of happiness, especially when we collaborate on stuff.”His ambitions for the future are very simple. In theatre, film or television, in collaboration with the best writers and directors, he wants to make great art, and keep on making it. “I can’t remember which director said it, but he said it takes 30 years to make a good actor,” he says.

“Longevity matters. I’m 16 years in, just over the hump, and when I’m 50 I should know if I’ve mastered my trade, or failed gloriously.”When the dessert and Bordeaux are finished, I ask for the bill, and the waiter brings it with two complementary glasses of dessert wine and a tray of petit fours. “I’m a big fan of your work,” he says to Cillian.

“I’m a big fan of your restaurant,” says Cillian. “How fantastic. What a meal. I wish all interviews could be like this.”As we walk out pleasantly buzzed into the bright furnace of a New York summer afternoon, I notice that Cillian doesn’t appear to have a mobile phone. “I left it in a taxi yesterday,” he says.

“Within half an hour, someone had called my wife and made arrangements to return it. I’m going to pick it up now before I go to the airport. It gives you faith, man. My publicist has lost two wallets and a phone here, and gotten them all back, with none of the money missing. It’s not something people expect from New York, but there you have it.”

Then I see the waiter from 15 East running down the street towards us, and I wonder if he’s going to ask Cillian for an autograph. But no, by odd coincidence, the waiter is holding my mobile phone, which I must have left in the restaurant. “You see what I mean?” says Cillian. “It gives you faith. Alright, best of luck, and I’ll be off now.”

[jjaylove27]

True Love

Part Two

Y/N POV

I woke up bright and early. I have to look for a job down at the docks and find Gold. I got up and put my boots back on and set out on my mission. I walked down to the docks talked to the manger about getting a job. I'm gonna help keep the boats stocked and check innovatory. As I was turning around I bumped into Killian.

"Did I get the time wrong Sparrow?"

He use to call me that all the time. I was his Little Sparrow he even would whistle when at me when I was a kid to tease me.

"No Kill I came down to the docks to get a job. Need to make money."

"Oh, well I was about to go to pick up Emma and go to Granny's to eat breakfast if you want come with me?"

"Um no it's okay I got other plans."

I put my head down and walked away. I walked back into town looking for Gold. When I bumped into Regina.

"Hello Y/N, how are you doing today?"

"I'm doing good. Just trying to figure out some stuff from my past."

"Anything I can help with?"

"No, I'm actually going to see the guy who I think can give me answers."

She nods and continues walking away. I finally reach the shop that I seen Gold enter into yesterday. I took a deep breath and walked in. I heard the bell over my head ring indicating that someone walked in. I looked around the shop to see what he was selling. Then I seen Gold walk around dressed in his suit.

"Hi dearie what can I do for you today?"

"I actually have a question for you. I'm sure you can tell that Killian doesn't remember me. But you do so I'm just wonder why?"

"Ahh great question. Well when Miss. Emma Swan came and saved the day from Regina I got my memories back. I don't know why your precious pirate doesn't remember."

"Okay, thank you for taking time out of your day to answering my question."

I walked out thanking to my self hmm he is up to something. Hopefully the book will have some answers for me.

HOOK POV

I was sitting at Granny's with Emma I was thinking about Y/N. I know I worked on the boat with her dad but I feel like she is a missing piece to something. I looked at Emma and I see her talking but I'm not listening to her I just nod my head.

"Do you think Henry would be okay showing Y/N the book? She doesn't remember her past I'm hoping that the book has something about her."

"I'm sure he is fine with it. I actually remember seeing something about her in the book. Her father refused to take slaves on the boat and that's how he got the Black Pearl. She had fell in love with a boy on the boat that would tease her all the time by-"

Then I remembered a sound of someone whistling and calling for a sparrow. Maybe that was who she was looking for.

"Was there anything else in the book about her?"

"No the rest was ripped out of the book."

"Who would take her story out of the book?"

"Obviously someone that doesn't want her to know about her past."

Just then I heard the bell over the door ring and we look to see Y/N walking in. I wave her over and a smile at Emma. I turned back around to look Y/N I caught her eyes and I felt my heart pick up. She finally reached us.

"We was just talking about you and the book. Emma remember seeing something about you in the book. She said the pages are taken out. That had to be someone here that did that. We just need to find out who and why."

"Oh, wow. I thank I know who would take the pages out of the book. It was Gold he hates my family always had something against them."

"That sounds a lot like Gold always out to get someone. We need to break into his shop and look for the pages. Who better then an ex-thief and two pirates."

"Hook are you sure that's good idea? I'm the sheriff now I can't just be breaking into people's shops. I don't want you guys getting caught by Gold."

"Emma it's the only way to get some answers. Maybe we can have Regina help us."

Y/N POV

I don't want him seeing the pages and running off because he seen something he doesn't remember.

"You guys don't have to do that."

"You deserve to have your memories. Lets go talk to Regina."

They stand up and start walking to the door. I follow them as they hold hands and talk. I really hope they don't find any pages I don't want Hook to know before I can tell him. We reach Regina's house and Emma knock's. This house is as big as my aunt Elizabeth and my uncle Will's house. Regina opens the door finally.

"Hi, can I help you guys?"

"Y/N found out that Gold stole pages out of the story book about her. We was hoping that you could distract Gold while we break into his shop and look for them."

"You know I can't stand them but if it's to help Y/N in remembering her past I will do. She and her dad use to help me out."

So Regina remembers me which means she must remember my relationship to Killian and not saying anything. I have to talk to her alone so she doesn't say anything to Killian.

"But I might have a spell that will help you find the pages. They will glow gold when you are close to them."

"Thank you Regina that will help a whole lot. Thank you guy's for helping me get my memoires back."

[pascaloverx]

As It Was

Chapter Six (M)

previous chapter next chapter

Summary: When our protagonist finds herself caught in the dilemma of continuing her mission and taking care of her ex-husband, her decision takes a dangerous turn...

Warnings: Use of explicit language, adult content, potential depiction of physical and verbal violence. Minors are advised not to read or engage with this story. Minors should not interact with this story, especially this chapter!

Personal Note: Hello dear readers, I'd like to request that you comment on the story if you enjoy it. Your opinions will be taken into consideration for the future of the fanfic. Please note that this story involves multiple romantic interests, so feel free to share your thoughts on them. I'll aim to update the fanfic every week and appreciate those who share and like this fanfic.

My feet carry me across the floor as Killian and I dance. We shared two drinks before he decided to invite me to dance. I can't complain; Dave asked me to stall for as long as possible. He has already hacked into Killian's notebook and bugged Killian's room while I'm distracting our target.

"You're quieter now than you were before..." Killian observes, his keen eyes studying my face for any hints of deception. I offer a faint smile, my mind racing to maintain the facade of innocence.

"Just enjoying the music and the moment." I reply, my voice steady, concealing the whirlwind of thoughts beneath the surface. The dance continues, a delicate balance of deception and charm, as I play my part in this dangerous game.

"I'd hate to think you're bored in my company." Killian says, drawing closer, his arms wrapping firmly around my waist. It's almost cozy, but my mind is far from at ease. I'm contemplating what Steve might be saying to Peggy, and worrying that James might need me. The dance becomes a blur as I attempt to juggle the complexities of the mission, my thoughts scattered between the present moment and the obligations that pull me away.

"Has any woman ever been bored in your presence? I doubt it's my case. It's just that being in a recent relationship occupies the mind quite a lot." I respond, attempting to divert his attention without revealing too much. Killian's eyes search mine, a glint of curiosity flickering within them. I offer a playful smile, hoping to mask my inner turmoil.

"Your boyfriend doesn't seem to be concerned about it. I think you can relax about the thoughts occupying your mind." Killian remarks, his voice smooth, yet there's a subtle challenge in his tone. I nod, feigning reassurance while my thoughts race, juggling the intricate web of lies and obligations.

As I'm about to agree, my phone rings, and I see it's a call from Sam. I hesitate, fearing it might jeopardize the mission. However, he persists, and my heart tightens with worry. I excuse myself from Killian and move to a secluded spot. I answer the phone to find a desperate Sam on the line. James has been shot in an ambush. That's all he manages to tell me amidst the background noise that hampers our connection. My heart sinks as I try to comprehend the gravity of the situation. I can't think of doing anything else, nothing but going after Bucky. I return to the nightclub, now pulsating with a more energetic beat, and stop in front of Killian, who looks at me expressionlessly.

"I... have to leave. There's been an accident at home involving a family member, and I need to go," I say, hoping to find a semblance of understanding between us. However, Killian's expression remains unhappy, as if he senses there's more to the situation than meets the eye.

"I hope this isn't some ploy to seduce me. Despite my appearance, I have very little patience for games." Killian says, his tone thick with authority. There it is—the villain I had been expecting to encounter at any moment. His words hang in the air, laden with suspicion, challenging my every move, as I navigate the dangerous path ahead, trying to outwit a foe who sees through my facade.

"I believe you must be mistaking me for someone with whom you had a fleeting romance, someone you felt the need to play games with. That's not me; I have no intention of seducing you in that manner. After all, I am committed to someone else, and you seem too fragile to be seduced. Now, if you'll excuse me." I reply, my tone firm, a subtle challenge in my words as I walk away, leaving Killian to ponder the complexity of our encounter.

On my way to the exit, I passed by Steve, who was in a corner talking to Peggy. Would it be right to let him know I'm leaving? Yes. However, upon considering it, I decide not to inform him, keeping my departure a secret to safeguard the mission's complexity and avoid potential complications. I inform Dave through a message that he should leave. Afterward, I get into the first taxi headed to the airport.

The journey home is filled with worries. My official phone, where I don't exchange messages about the mission, has two missed calls from Steve. He must be furious with me, but to maintain the disguise, he's playing the concerned boyfriend. The weight of my choices settles heavily on my shoulders as I navigate the delicate balance between my undercover persona and the reality of my personal life. However, I allow myself to focus solely on checking on Barnes. He is my top priority. I stop at a pharmacy and grab essential medical supplies, along with some food. I even wear a disguise to make the purchases and use cash to avoid being traced. Sam texts me, letting me know that the safehouse hasn't been compromised. It makes me think that Bucky must have gotten into trouble since they haven't gone after him. The worry gnaws at me as I speed toward the cabin, my mind racing with a mix of fear and determination.

When I arrive at the cabin, Sam and Yelena are outside. Yelena wears a tired expression as she smokes a cigarette, while Sam appears disappointed, as if he's been betrayed. Maybe he even feels guilty. Their expressions weigh heavily on me, filling me with unease.

"He..." I can't bring myself to utter the words as I observe the dried blood on their clothes. Dread fills the air, and my heart sinks, realizing the gravity of the situation.

"That bastard is fine. A bad penny always turns up." Sam says, his voice laced with frustration and relief.

"Your lovesick boy thought it was a good idea to go after his little girlfriend." Yelena scoffs, her tone dripping with sarcasm. The anger radiating from her is palpable.

I want to question her, to understand what they're talking about, but there's no time to waste. I quickly enter the house, finding him lying on the bed, unconscious. Wanda is tending to him. My friend is known for the magical healing she can perform with her hands to aid the sick and injured. The relief of seeing Bucky alive washes over me.

"He's fine; the bullet went through. Yelena and Sam were quick to stop the bleeding. In the end, he'll be okay. We've been taking care of him for a few hours, and he seems to be recovering. But I have to admit, it was pretty foolish of him to go after Sharon." Wanda speaks softly as she finishes changing Barnes bandages.

"Who the hell is Sharon?" I say while closely watching Barnes, who is sleeping so heavily that he isn't bothered by our conversation.

"She was this dumbass's partner, he thought he could get her help but discovered that she is actually a key player in arresting him." Wanda seems hesitant to tell me something, making it highly suspicious. Perhaps she wants to conceal the current relationship between Barnes and Sharon, adding another layer of complexity to the already tangled web of emotions and secrets surrounding us.

"Can you take them home and tell them I'll stay with Barnes while he recovers?" I ask, my voice steady but my heart heavy with the weight of the request.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Wanda says, her eyes searching mine for any signs of hesitation.

"You guys can go; I'll stay with him. I'll get in touch if anything happens. I think Sam and Yelena need some rest, just like you do. Besides, he's my responsibility." I say, my voice firm, yet laced with a tinge of sadness. Wanda doesn't argue; she simply nods in agreement. A few minutes later, I find myself alone with Barnes. The exhaustion from the journey consumes me entirely, so I decide it's appropriate to take a shower. As the warm water cascades over me, I try to wash away the stress and worry. I hear a noise in the room and decide to step out of the shower, my senses on high alert.

I find James attempting to get up from the bed, his face contorted in pain. My heart lurches with concern, and I quickly move to his side, offering support as he struggles against the pain. The wound is on his abdomen; I can't tell how deep it is, but the bandage still seems effective. I rush towards him and gently press him back onto the bed, my hands careful and steady as I hold him in place. In my haste, I accidentally forget that I'm only wearing a towel as I hover over Barnes, my focus entirely on his well-being. The vulnerability of the moment hangs in the air, a fleeting instance of intimacy amidst the chaos, as I tend to his wounds with unwavering determination.

"You almost died." I say sharply, my voice carrying a mixture of frustration and concern.

"You're exaggerating; the bullet barely grazed me." Barnes retorts, his tone defiant despite the pain etched on his face.

"You're far too reckless to be talking back to me like this. Now lie down and stop aggravating me." I command, my frustration bubbling to the surface. The edge in my voice leaves no room for argument.

"You know you don't have to take care of me," Barnes replies, his voice softening slightly.

"Maybe you'd prefer Sharon to take care of you, but unfortunately, only one of us is foolish enough for that." I retort, my words laced with a bitter edge. The mention of Sharon adds another layer of tension.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you." Barnes responds, his tone a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

"You have a lot of nerve accusing me of being jealous when you just got shot in the most pathetic way possible."

"So I'm pathetic now?" Barnes counters, his tone sharp, his eyes narrowing with defiance.

We lock eyes so intensely that our emotions become almost palpable. There's no time for overthinking, rationalizing our feelings would only hinder us from doing what we're about to do. Without thinking much, I hold my body against Barnes'. He seems to be as excited as I am. I kiss him while he's lightly sitting on the edge of the bed and I'm just inches away from laying both of us down on it. He pulls me closer, pressing our lips even more against each other. A fire grows inside me. I feel like he's the same way.

He slowly while kissing me removes the towel that is all that covers my body. I feel my body shiver. It's been so long since I've had sex with him that I feel like it's the first time. One moment we're just kissing and the next, I feel him inside me. It all happened so quickly that I didn't even notice the moment he opened his pants and pulled down his underwear. All I know is that I'm riding him, slowly as if I'm getting used to it. He holds my waist tightly and I try to keep up with a pace that doesn't make his wound open. Although at the moment I don't care if what we are doing will harm him. At least he doesn't seem worried Right now we're a mix of grunts. I start to increase the pace I grind on his dick while he concentrates on squeezing me. Sometimes he squeezes my breasts, or my ass when he seems to want to guide me.

"Doll, I'm almost there..." He murmurs as I lose myself in him. I understand that I need to be more effective. I start to go up and down at a slower speed, biting Barnes' neck and whispering into his ears that I am not ready to end. Three years of drought are not so easily released. He then moves his waist with precision to help me cum. His fingers stimulate me as he continues to bury himself in me. I feel ecstatic like it was on fire.

"Barnes I need you to go...faster." I say while kissing him intensely. He understands, increasing the pace of his thrusts and slowly I feel my orgasm coming. He holds my waist firmly with his metallic hand and with the other he holds my breast. We were both completely out of breath after a perfect climax. I stay on top of him for a few seconds. He holds me tight as we turn over on the bed. I'm too tired to ask myself how a injured man manages to have deposition after sex. He covers us with the blanket. And I allow myself to stay in his arms, lying beneath his sweaty chest as he quickly falls asleep.

tag list: @cjand10

[deckerstarblanche]

Welcome to Chapter 2 of “An Offer She Can’t Refuse” FINALLY!

Huge thanks to @ultraluckycatnd for being the best beta ever, to @undercaffinatednightmare for the cool artwork, and to @caught-in-the-filter for the inspiring gifs!

Warning: the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written ;)

TAG LIST: @kmomof4 @ultraluckycatnd @caught-in-the-filter @booksteaandtoomuchtv @jrob64 @djlbg @eddisfargo @stahlop @holdingoutforapiratehero @justanother-unluckysoul @teamhook @gingerchangeling @jonesfandomfanatic @grimmswan @captainfloorouat @cs-rylie @natascha-ronin @vasfasan @veryverynotgoodwrites @bugheadswanjones @everything-person @jackieorioncat

Killian was able to get a Safe House room booked during the drive back to school, much to Emma’s relief. He was such a caring, reliable friend — the perfect guy to be with during such a crazy time. The only thing she had doubts about was how they were supposed to go back to being “just friends” after this was over. Was that even possible? Maybe they could talk about it when her brain didn’t feel like mush.

“You know, I’ve never been to the Safe House building before. Do you think you can hear other people messing around in their rooms? I bet you can’t, because of privacy rules, and hormone stuff. It would get pretty confusing in there if the walls weren’t thick enough, so I’m sure they are…” Emma babbled, pressing her cheek against the cool passenger side window as her head lolled to the side.

“Why don’t you drink some of that water I gave you, love? You might be a bit dehydrated already, and you’ll need your strength,” he urged gently, squeezing her arm. She looked down at the bottle in her lap and glared at him for being right, but the cool water did soothe her parched throat and eased some of the tension in her muscles. By the time they got back to campus, though, Emma was literally limp from exhaustion.

Checking in was incredibly easy. Emma had guessed right; because of the school’s strictly enforced privacy rules, they didn’t have to interact with anyone but the staff member who showed them to their assigned room. A woman from housekeeping led them upstairs while Killian held onto Emma, who had burrowed into her blanket. It was a bit of a mess after their activities in the truck, but she needed it, and whatever Emma needed, she’d get.

Killian remembered learning about situations like this in high school health class: an Omega’s instincts and defensiveness intensified during a heat, so familiar and soothing things shouldn’t be taken away from her. Killian knew it was up to him to make sure Emma felt safe and secure. Once the extra bedding, towels, and cases of water were stored away, the housekeeper left, and they were alone together.

“Ugh, I need to shower,” Emma whined as he set her down, burrowing her face into his chest. He chuckled, kissing the top of her head.

“That can most certainly be arranged. Go and relax, love,” he said, handing her a fluffy blue towel from the stack of stuff they’d been given.

Once he heard the water running, Killian kicked his sneakers off and made himself comfortable on the bed, switching the television on. Mindlessly, he flicked through the channels, trying to calm his frayed nerves. He had never been with an Omega in heat before, and there were so many unknowns. How long would they be here? What if he couldn’t get the job done for some reason, and she rejected him? What would happen if he slipped up and told her his true feelings by mistake?

Maybe watching some baseball would help push the self-doubt away, and get him in the right mindset. By the time the bathroom door opened, Killian was so fully immersed in the Red Sox vs. Cardinals game that he had shifted to the edge of the mattress, laser focused on the screen. He had no idea that Emma snuck up behind him, covering his eyes.

“Hello Swan… I trust you found the shower refreshing?” he asked, drawing one of her wrists to his lips.

“Yeah, absolutely; good pressure, plenty of hot water… I’d give it three stars,” she said with a smile, removing her other hand from his eyes. She perched herself on the corner of the bed, knowingly blocking his view of the television. He didn’t mind in the slightest, as she was wearing nothing but a short terry cloth robe, using the bath towel to dry her hair.

“Why’d you take away a star? Surely a shower that nice would merit four,” Killian teased, before his eyes zoomed in on her robe as it crept up to the tops of her thighs.

“Eyes up here, buddy!” she barked, just convincingly enough to make his ears turn red. Laughing, Emma threw the towel on the floor, finger-combing her hair into loose waves before inching her way back toward the pillows. Once there, she relaxed against them with her legs stretched out, long and lean.

“There wasn’t any room in the shower for my favorite Alpha, and I got lonely,” she sighed, her lips pressing together in an exaggerated pout. “Isn’t that awful?”

Killian nodded, his eyes glazing over at the sight of her laid out before him like a present waiting to be unwrapped. “It’s truly despicable, Swan. We shall have to remedy that at once…” he purred, crawling up until he hovered right over her, caging her in with his arms.

“Yes,” she hissed, quickly undoing the belt so her robe lay open, displaying every square inch of her flushed skin.

“Fucking exquisite,” he rasped, dipping his head to kiss her hungrily, using a knee to nudge her thighs further apart. Emma arched her back and moaned as her head hit the pillow, making sure he got an eyeful of her chest.

“I need to feel your mouth on me, Alpha, and your hands…like what you did in your truck,” she told him hoarsely, reaching up to try and grab him by the collar. He dodged at the last moment, ripping the shirt off himself before diving back down to lick a stripe right between her breasts. She let out a soft moan, her nipples stiffening in response to his touch.

“I am going to worship you tonight, Omega,” he rasped into her shoulder, pausing to nip at the skin above her collarbone before trailing his lips up her graceful neck. “I already know how damn good you feel around me, and that your taste is just delectable, but there’s one more thing that I’m just desperate to learn about…” he told her with a grin, sliding his mouth back down to her chest. He bit down on one nipple while pinching its twin at the same time and she cried out, pressing her pelvis up almost involuntarily.

“Does that mean you’re gonna knot me this time, Alpha? Now that I’ve seen what you have to offer, I want yours even more,” she told him between jagged breaths, cupping his crotch before slipping smoothly out from underneath him to switch their positions.

“Ooh, so fiery…I like this side of you very much.” he smirked, watching her shrug her robe completely off, clawing at the button of his jeans before they popped open. In the time it took him to blink, Emma divested him of his remaining clothing, gasping when his quickly hardening cock sprang up.

She moved up to straddle his thighs, and he watched as she started touching herself, slipping two fingers into her wetness, pumping them lazily before adding a third. “Mmm…Seeing how hard you get, just from watching me touch myself? Alpha, it’s so fucking hot,” she whispered, pulling her fingers out so she could run her slick-covered hand over his length. He shivered and closed his eyes, gripping her hips tightly enough to leave marks as he bit out a few choice curse words.

“You nearly made me come, Omega. It’s a damn lucky thing that I have amazing control,” he said, raising himself up on his elbows. “But that’s enough teasing for now; get up on your knees,” he ordered, the words rising up from some feral place deep in his gut. His eyes were dark with lust, and his gaze roamed freely over her entire body.

Emma was in a similar state, licking her lips as she admired the lean muscular planes of his form. For as long as they were in this room, he was her Alpha, and she felt very possessive. She rose back up, never losing eye contact after she’d positioned herself to sink down onto his cock. Her movements were almost torturously slow, teasing him and squeezing her inner muscles to give him just a little extra stimulation.

“You like that, Alpha?”

He liked it; hell, he loved it. The instant they were fully joined, she ground her ass against his thighs and they both moaned loudly at the relief of it, savoring the feeling together. Emma leaned forward, placing both hands on this chest as she began rolling her hips. In response, Killian thrust upward, bending his knees for better leverage.

“I want you to tell me exactly how you like to be touched, Omega,” he urged, squeezing her ass as he watched her writhing above him. “I want to know so I can find all of the new places to touch, and the ways to make you scream and beg for more,” he revealed.

“My nipples are really sensitive right now,” she breathed, raking her fingers through his chest hair. “Bite them, squeeze them, whatever…I’m getting closer!”

“As you wish,” Killian growled, thrusting faster as he ran his rough hands over her breasts, twisting and rolling until she let out a shriek of pure pleasure, repeating his name as she tightened around him, shaking from the force of her release. As difficult as it was to hold himself off, Killian managed, only pulling out as her aftershocks tapered down. If he dared to look at his cock, fully engorged and dripping with her essence, he would have popped his knot, losing complete control of himself. He had to move quickly.

“If you want my knot, I need you to get on all fours and turn around… NOW,” he growled, mostly from the pain of literally holding off his orgasm. Wordlessly, she did just as he asked, still lightheaded from her own pleasure. She could feel fresh slick trickling down her thighs, as if her body knew what was coming. Listening to that inner voice, Emma tucked her arms under her forehead and lifted her ass a little higher in the air.

She felt his hands smoothing down her back and hips as he moved into position behind her. The heat from his body was almost overwhelming but still she shivered, craving more. Killian’s familiar scent calmed her down, as did the gentleness in his voice when he spoke.

“Before we take this step, Emma, I need to ask you one more time: are you sure this is what you want?”

“Oh, fuck yes,” she purred, and before she knew it, he covered her body with his, thrusting into her completely. Emma had never felt so full in all her life, and she knew instantly that she’d made the right choice in her partner. Adjusting her position a bit, she took several deep breaths, enjoying the pressure and stretch from his girth at the new angle.

“Everything ok, Iove?” he asked, sounding worried that she was in pain.

“I feel wonderful, Alpha,” she soothed, lifting her hips higher and arching her back so he could slide all the way in. Her ass wiggled against his balls, causing him to pant harshly, unsure how much longer he’d be able to hold on. Emma turned her head, looking up at him as best she could. “Why are you holding back, Killian? I’m ready, and I want you,” she told him, rocking her hips back as she arched her spine to further encourage him.

“I want you too, love— believe me,” he rasped, nuzzling into her neck as he squeezed her hip. “You feel so unbelievably perfect. Touch yourself, so we can do this together…It will feel so much more satisfying for you, I swear it,” he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion.

Emma was so moved by his constant consideration that she just nodded, bringing her fingers back to circle her clit roughly. That seemed to satisfy him, so he finally started moving again, taking her with fast, deep strokes. “Oh yes, Alpha, that’s the spot…Fuck! You feel so good,” Emma cried as she hurtled toward another release.

“I knew you could get yourself there, Omega. So unbelievably sexy,” he groaned, voice low and seductive. “You feel like heaven around my cock…”

There were no more words after that, just the sounds of their ragged breathing and slick skin colliding, building up toward a frenzied climax. She fell first, the tension mounting until it finally broke into seemingly endless waves of pleasure. With a final snap of his hips, he pushed forward, and when her muscles stretched enough to capture his knot, he could finally let go.

Experiencing such intense intimacy with Emma was the most satisfying high Killian had ever felt. He came hard, and as her walls spasmed, their bodies locked together to ensure that his release remained exactly where it was supposed to be.

In that moment he knew, with an almost primal certainty, that he had found his mate.

By the time the aftershocks ceased, they were sweaty and exhausted, barely able to coordinate themselves to lie down comfortably. Emma yawned, stretching her limbs as carefully as she could to avoid jostling his knot, but Killian was already falling asleep, his arm slung loosely across her hips. Aside from where they were joined, he made sure to keep an inch or two of space between them, avoiding too much skin contact for her comfort. It was exactly that kind of care, even to the smallest gesture, that made Emma’s heart swell with affection. The wonderful guy behind her was so thoughtful that he knew, without having to ask, how much she valued her space.

Emma wanted to let go of all her worries, and just bask in the incredible endorphin rush until she fell asleep — but her brain wouldn’t stop spinning. She heard his mind-blowing words and thinly veiled feelings on a loop inside her head, and it scared her to death. She knew what would happen if she allowed him in too close; they’d get too serious, too fast. Then, like so many other people in her life — from the parents she’d never known, to all the foster homes filled with neglect and broken promises —- he’d get tired of or abandon her. Everything, including their friendship, would crumble into dust.

Long before Emma met Killian, she had decided that she wouldn’t let anything distract her from her work, and it was even more true now. She couldn’t afford the emotional and physical maelstrom that a real heat caused, so going back on her meds was the best way to achieve her goals, even if it meant forcing herself to walk away from the man whose embrace had begun to feel like home. As her eyes drifted shut, Emma resolved to make her feelings clear after her hormones had settled.

##########

Killian awoke peacefully, just as the morning sun’s first rays began to filter in through the window blinds.

He was disoriented for a moment, knowing that he wasn’t in his own bed, but the soft snores from the body next to him, hopelessly tangled in the sheets, gave him a quick reminder.

Emma.

Emma, who apparently snored in her sleep? She was dozing on her side, facing the wall, so he propped himself up on one elbow, content just to watch her over her shoulder.

They’d had quite an exhausting night, so he was glad that she was able to get some rest. A few of the old wives’ tales he’d heard over the years ran through his head: Omegas who couldn’t sleep for days straight during a heat because their bodies needed constant stimulation; guys who almost asphyxiated in their partner’s slick during oral sex; the couple who spent 12 hours in an intimate tie because every time they tried to separate, it triggered simultaneous orgasms. At least that couple was trying for a baby, so they got their happy — albeit, unconventional — ending.

He shifted to focus his attention on his bedmate, who looked so peaceful and far removed from the chaos her body was going through. She had a small smile on her face, like she was in the middle of a very pleasant dream, and it filled his heart with happiness.

Dammit, get yourself together, man! Killian thought, chastising himself for such un-Alphalike behavior. It brought back unpleasant memories of his domineering father, who always berated him for walking away from playground fights as a child. Brennan Jones never walked away from a brawl, a “value” he tried to instill in his sons every single day, until he up and abandoned them in the dead of night.

Killian and his brother had worked hard to rise above their father’s pettiness, and as a result, Liam found a wonderful wife and partner in Elsa. Emma had a similar quality about her, enabling Killian to be softer and more in touch with his emotions. He had never experienced that with anyone else, not even his brother.

The woman in question was fast asleep at the moment, so he could take the time to memorize every freckle and laugh line on her face. If she ever found out how deeply he truly felt about her, she’d get scared and put distance between them. In the literal heat of the moment, Killian decided to let all of their issues and hangups fall to the side for a while. He wanted to enjoy this experience, and for that to happen, he needed to be unburdened.

A few minutes later, he fell asleep, breathing in the light floral scent of her shampoo.

###########

When they awoke after a long snooze, Emma was wild-eyed and wanting once again, but at least he persuaded her to guzzle down two water bottles and a Lemon Luna Bar before they got back down to business.

Unfortunately, a series of loud knocks on the door popped their bubble of serenity.

“Killian, just be as quick as you can…I need you,” Emma whined, writhing against the rumpled sheets. He stole one more kiss before sliding off the bed, nearly biting through his lower lip when he saw her, lying there all naked and glowing, waiting for him.

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart. In a few minutes, I’m going to give you exactly what you need,” he assured her soothingly, pulling on his discarded jeans and a grey t-shirt before slipping out the door.

He was flummoxed to see a woman in crisp blue scrubs standing at the door, holding a clipboard. A cardboard box stood by her side.

“Good evening, Mr. Jones, my name is Tracy and I’m the on-call nurse tonight. It’s just about time for your 24 hour check-in, so I have to ask you a few quick questions, then I’ll be on my way. I’ve also got your laundered personal items,” she said cheerfully, gesturing for him to pick it up.

“Oh sure, thanks very much! Everything is just fine here, really…” Killian replied, bending to grab the box so she wouldn’t see his face and ears turn a ridiculous shade of pink.

She still had a list of questions for him, so Killian raked a hand through his hair, shoved a thumb into his front belt loops, and prayed that she wouldn’t ask about bodily fluids. “Ok, let’s see now: any fevers, dehydration, headaches, or dizziness to report?”

“None at all. I’ve been paying close attention to her hydration,” he answered, looking at the nurse’s immaculately white shoes in order to avoid her gaze.

“Good. No excessive bleeding, burning, chest pain, or hmm...panic attacks?” she asked, jotting a few check marks down in her notes.

“Definitely not, although she might start panicking if I don’t get back in there!” he joked with a tight smile, looking up just as the nurse raised her eyebrows, looking suspiciously like she didn’t mind his intense discomfort. He felt mortified. What other invasive questions was this woman going to ask?

“Well, if you don’t have any questions for me, I think that’ll do it for now. See, that wasn’t so bad, was it Mr. Jones?” she asked, her chipper tone causing Killian’s jaw to clench. “Remember, call us in case either of you have any dehydration symptoms or are in need of more supplies. We’ll see you again in about 12 hours. Bye now!”’

“Thanks very much, Tracy. Have a pleasant evening!” he called as the nurse walked down the hall, off to harass another hard-working “caregiver.”

Apparently, that was the official name in this place for people like him.

Relieved that the strange interlude was over, Killian went back into the darkened room. The bed was empty, and his protective hackles raised immediately, despite there being no realistic way that Emma could have gone far. Nevertheless, his pheromone-heightened senses caused him to worry, so he breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of the shower running. Heart hammering, Killian walked past the small kitchen to the bathroom door and knocked tentatively.

“Killian? You’re back, finally! I decided to take a quick shower, so I’ll be out in just a sec,” Emma’s voice floated over the spray. The thought of her, wet and naked and covered in soap suds, sent blood rushing south so fast that his head spun.

“Aye, love! Take as long as you need,” he called, cursing under his breath when his voice cracked like a gawky teenager. While she finished up in the shower, Killian occupied himself by changing the sheets and checking the room’s thermostat before stripping down to his boxers and settling back into the bed.

By that point in their time together, he was so attuned to her needs that even the faint sound of her humming happily to herself aroused him to full mast. It was almost ridiculous how badly he wanted her. The desire to offer his body and to be fully accepted into hers, combined with his new knowledge of her taste and scent nearly overwhelmed him, driving him closer to a heat-induced rut.

An Alpha’s version of heat, ruts occurred naturally about 3-4 times a year, but they only lasted 48 hours at most. In cases where an Omega’s heat induced a state of rut in her Alpha partner, it usually meant that the pair had the highest compatibility rate for producing healthy children. Some people even believed that it was proof that the couple were soulmates.

The thought of it happening to them gave Killian the oddest sense of pride, but he knew Emma would freak out if he dared ever mention that subject in her company.

“Heyyyy, looks like you’re having some interesting thoughts over there! What are you up to?” Emma asked, leaning against the wall wearing nothing but a towel and a smile. Her wet hair was combed back and her skin was glowing, making her look like a siren in terry cloth.

“Oh, nothing too exciting,” he answered playfully, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that always made her laugh. He pulled the sheets away from the tent in his boxers, patting the spot next to him on the bed with a teasing grin. “You know, I do have something for you over here, if you’re interested…”

Emma couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his cheesy line, even though she knew she’d be in his arms in less than a minute.

And gladly stay in his arms forever, her heat-addled brain admitted traitorously.

But Emma didn’t really care to think about everyday life problems, not while her brain was all fogged up. Especially not while there was a sinfully attractive man waiting for her, ready to fulfill her every need and desire. She stayed where she was for a few seconds longer, enjoying the way his beautiful blue eyes looked her up and down, gazing admiringly at her form. He made her feel like the sexiest, most treasured woman in the world.

“I might be interested…” Emma murmured, finally answering as she sauntered over to the bed, rounding the corner to stand right next to him.

Killian just smirked, and before she could do any more teasing, he grabbed her by the waist and dropped her gently onto the bed.

“What’d you do that for?” Emma sputtered, moving to sit up. Heat or no heat, she didn’t like surprises.

“I’m sorry for the lack of warning, Swan, but I really do need you to be on the bed for what I have planned,” he revealed, his voice pitched down to a low rumble as he encouraged her to back up against the pillows. When she was arranged as he desired, Killian brought his hand up to stroke her cheek gently, and she melted into his touch.

Emma took his face in her hands and drew him in, kissing him hungrily as he pulled the towel from her body. It fell to the floor with a soft swoosh, but she didn’t even notice because his hands were everywhere. They roamed over her curves as his lips traveled to her neck, where a few moments of playful nipping and kissing her there elicited a series of needy moans. When he grazed her scent gland with his teeth, she shivered with delight, his name on her lips.

“Hmm, you smell absolutely delicious,” he whispered against her neck, inhaling deeply right near the sensitive gland. Emma sighed with pleasure, dragging her nails through the hair on his chest as he purred contentedly at the attention. She inhaled sharply as his fingertips brushed over the wetness between her thighs, clicking his tongue in mock disapproval while his index finger swirled around her clit.

“Alpha…” she pleaded, sliding down the pillows as she opened her thighs wider, inviting him to settle in between.

“Why didn’t you tell me how wet you were already, Omega?” he teased, chuckling as he continued exploring her folds, fingers gliding in and out effortlessly while she writhed pleasurably under his touch.

“I didn’t realize how much I needed you. Just keep doing what you’re doing,” she ordered, eyes screwed shut as the familiar tension began to coil in her belly.

“More of my fingers, or will you let me pay homage to your beautiful body with my mouth?” he crooned, watching carefully as she opened her eyes, eager as he was for her consent. Emma reached up to kiss him while she thought it over, enjoying the smooth and confident way he curled and darted his tongue. When they pulled apart, she was gasping for breath, desperate for his touch.

“Mmm, I haven’t had any good experiences receiving oral before, but I think you’re about to change that, Alpha. Fuck me with that pretty mouth of yours.”

His face lit up, as if she’d just told him that he won the lottery. It was so adorable and unexpected that Emma couldn't help but grin back, blushing.

“Absolutely. I promise that you won’t regret it,” he told her, his cute smile turning into a leer as he zeroed in on her dripping center. “Lie back now, Omega, and lift your hips,” he instructed, quickly grabbing a larger pillow to position her pelvis where he wanted it.

Killian sat back on his heels to admire his handiwork. There she was, fully exposed to him; her golden hair looked wild and free against the sheets, and her beautiful face was flushed with arousal. Slowly, he slid his palms from her shoulders to her sternum, pausing to lavish attention on her breasts. All the while, he planted scorching kisses on her neck, across her collarbones, and down to her rib cage.

Not wanting to miss a detail, he skimmed his hands from her taut stomach to her slick-dampened thighs, as his tongue trailed down to her navel.

“Alpha…PLEASE!” Emma begged, so worked up that her entire body shook.

“Patience,” Killian chided gently, placing a kiss to each inner thigh, then one brush of his lips to her center. Just when she thought she would burst, he surged forward, finally burying his tongue inside of her. Expertly, he massaged her clit with his mouth while using his fingers to stroke her g-spot to a quick, toe-curling release.

Her scream was a sound he’d never forget: uninhibited, passionate, and strong, just like the woman herself. As Emma’s breathing slowed, Killian slowly unwound himself from her body. Sliding up to lie next to her, he propped himself on one elbow to face her.

“Mmm, that was wonderful. Thank you,” she nearly slurred, cracking her eyes open slowly.

“You’re most welcome. Would you like a drink?”

She nodded, so he reached over to the nightstand where he’d stored a few water bottles. They both drank silently as Emma collected herself, her hazy eyes clearing and sharpening to hone in on her partner’s clear need of her.

“Alpha,” she murmured, looking down at his clothed erection.“You look like you could use some serious TLC. Take those off and let me take care of-”

Killian put a finger to her lips, cutting her off with a grin. “I’ll show you serious; get up, love,” he said , raising his eyebrows in a way that piqued her interest. She moved to let him get off the bed and followed him over to the front edge. He stripped, then sat down and grabbed her hands, drawing her in close. She narrowed her eyes, wondering what the hell he was up to.

“What are you doing?”

“I have a new idea, but I need you to trust me. I’d never hurt you, Emma; I can promise you that,” he assured, bringing her hands to his lips so he could place a kiss atop both sets of knuckles. The gesture made her smile, and she nodded in agreement. “All you need to do is get up on the bed, knees bent. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Looking more than a bit skeptical, Emma climbed onto his lap and straddled his hips on her knees as requested, placing her hands on his shoulders for balance. Almost immediately, he kissed her roughly, sucking her lower lip into his mouth while squeezing her hips. It felt as if every nerve in her body lit up in excitement as slick dripped onto his shaft.

“Ohhh, Emma…fuck, I thought I could wait, but I need to be inside of you right now. Just lift up, love…” he panted, sounding absolutely wrecked with lust.

“Yes, Alpha, please…” She did as he asked and immediately felt his cock nudging her entrance, hot and rock hard. Killian groaned as he guided himself inside of her, and she angled her descent, sinking down onto him as he began to rock up. He wrapped an arm around her, kissing her neck while Emma clutched at the back of his head, combing her fingers through his hair.

The position was intense: he was so deep now that he was hitting new places inside of her, making her shiver even though they were both damp from exertion and slick. They kept rocking against each other, finding a rhythm as they picked up speed.

“Killian,” Emma said with a hoarse voice, swallowing thickly. He raised his head from where it was nestled against her shoulder.

“Yes, love?”

“The way we are now…you’re hitting the perfect spot. It’s good for me, but is it good for you?” She asked, moving a sweaty lock of hair off his forehead.

“Don’t worry about me, Omega. This part’s all about you,” he breathed, trying to concentrate his efforts on hitting the same spot over and over so she could come. His muscles were beginning to tire, and he was dying to knot her, then take a shower and fall asleep, but he loved the closeness they had in this position.

Emma could tell that he was exhausted, so she kissed him and moved faster, snaking her fingers down to rub circles against her clit.

“That’s it, Omega,” he whispered, breaking their kiss as he stared down at her fingers moving so close to where they were joined. “I can feel you getting even hotter inside, that’s how I know you’re close. Tell me to go faster if that’s what you need, Emma…”

“Yes, faster and harder, please!” she begged, her breathy moans getting more frantic and louder as she approached her peak. The moment she snapped, he felt an incredible spasm of muscles gripping almost his entire length. While Emma was in a state of total ecstasy, Killian realized that he was on the brink too, with no hope of staving it off.

He gazed at her longingly, feeling like his blood was racing like liquid fire through his veins. His mind was consumed with images of knotting her slicked up body against the wall, pumping her so full of his release that he wouldn’t need to mark her; every Alpha on campus would know that she was off-limits.

“Emma, I want to pick you up and knot you against the fucking wall. I’ve been picturing it since we got here,” he confessed, groaning almost painfully as he pulled out of her warmth. “Now is the perfect moment; you’ve come so many times that you’re more than ready to take my knot. Will you let me?”

“DO IT. I want it, Alpha, now!” Emma hissed, gripping his neck and wrapping her legs around his waist. Her command gave Killian a surge of strength, and he rose, slamming her up against the nearest wall as he gripped the backs of her thighs. Guided as if by instinct, she grabbed hold of him, frantically angled their bodies until they clicked right back into alignment, like two puzzle pieces.

The heat generated between them increased rapidly into an inferno, as sweat and slick rolled down their bodies. He pounded into her like a man possessed, bracing his forehead against her chest as each thrust brought them closer to the brink.

“Mmm, I wish it could always be like this, Omega. I’d be balls-deep inside you every fucking night,” he growled, the sound coming from deep inside his chest, vibrating against her own.

“Yes, Alpha,” she agreed breathlessly, nodding as she held him closer, the thought of it taking shape inside her head. “Always want your knot inside me!”

“Then you shall have it,” he muttered darkly, pulling back once more before he slammed his pulsing knot deep inside her, making Emma scream his title as her orgasm overwhelmed her. His own release was long and satisfying, as if their bodies were urging each other to give more and more until oversensitivity forced them to stop moving. Breathing hard, they nearly slumped against the wall, until Emma tapped her heel against the ticklish spot on the back of his right thigh.

“Wench,” Killian groaned, making her laugh as he managed to get them over to the bed and onto their sides. With a sigh, she tucked her head under his chin, and once their breathing normalized, a comfortable silence filled the room.

##########

It took longer than usual for his knot to deflate, leaving them both sticky and uncomfortable. After separating, they rolled away from each other for a while, both needing breathing space and time to process what had just happened between them.

Emma melted into her pillow as she lay on her stomach, flinging her right arm in his general direction. Killian reached for her fingers, interlacing them with his as he gazed up at the ceiling.

“Holy shit, Killian, I don’t even know what to say! That was amazing,” she marveled, turning to face him. “Does knotting just get better and better every time? I don’t know if that can be topped,” she chuckled, amused by her own double entendre.

He laughed too, but his mind was whirling with confusion. He had no idea whether or not he should tell her the truth, the one he kept hidden away. In the end, Killian decided to confess only halfway.

“I can’t speak for anyone else, but for me, it’s like any kind of sex: best practiced with someone you really care for.” he told her softly, hoping that hearing the seriousness in his voice and seeing the love he felt for her in his eyes would help him get through to her.

Her eyes widened, showing a mix of emotions: affection, sincerity, tentative happiness…but fear was lurking in the background, just waiting to push its way forward. Luckily, though, she softened, opening her arms as she turned to face him.

“Killian, will you just hold me for a little bit?”

Without answering, he reached for her and scooped her into his arms. She laid her cheek against his chest, nuzzling into his warmth as she draped one leg lazily over his.

“Of course I will, love. I always will; you know that right?” he murmured into her hair, kissing the top of her head before resting his own back on the cool pillow. To Killian’s surprise, Emma snaked one arm around his waist and curled against him, holding onto his bicep like she wanted to make sure he wouldn’t go anywhere.

As he listened to her breathing even out, he combed his fingers gently through her hair, wishing this perfect moment with an unguarded Emma could last forever.

##########

When Emma appeared in the doorway to her and Mary Margaret’s room two days later, eyes red-rimmed and baggy from exhaustion, her roommate knew something was deeply wrong.

“What happened, sweetie?” Mary Margaret asked gently, guiding her friend back inside, her familiar fleece blanket trailing sadly behind her.

“This morning, I woke up just as the sun was starting to rise, and even though I don’t usually have any problem getting back to sleep, I felt so dizzy that I couldn’t close my eyes! Drinking water helped, but I haven’t felt so bad in years — just nauseous, bloated, and really sore from the past three days,” Emma told her, dropping onto her desk chair with a thump. “All of those times when you said that a natural heat’s end feels like a hangover, I thought you were being dramatic. Now, I know better…” she groaned, turning around in her chair to lay her head on the desk.

“Hey, c’mere,” Mary Margaret urged, holding her arms out, and after a few moments of hesitation, Emma turned and accepted the supportive hug, grateful that she wasn’t being judged. “I don’t understand why you insisted on coming back here all by yourself. Where’s Killian?”

When Mary Margaret pulled back and clasped Emma’s shoulders, she knew that it was time for her to explain her actions.

“Emma, did you check out of the building without telling Killian? Does he know that you left? I’m not judging, just asking…”

Emma’s silence answered the question, and Mary Margaret’s heart shattered for both of her friends. She and David had high hopes that the pair of them would just realize once and for all how perfect they were for each other.

“I just had to get out of there! I was starting to get claustrophobic, and I didn’t want to deal with him worrying about me, so I left. He was sleeping so peacefully that I didn’t have the heart to wake him,” she tried to reason, but Emma knew how irresponsible her actions had been.

“How could you do that to him?” Mary Margaret gasped, trying to rein in her shock at Emma’s carelessness. Unfortunately, the tears running down Emma’s face showed that she had failed.

“Listen, I need a long shower and a good nap. I can’t deal with these feelings right now,” Emma said dully, shrugging her shoulders as she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. Mary Margaret’s expression softened.

“That sounds like a good plan, Emma. Do you want me to leave so you can have some private time?” She asked, but Emma shook her head vehemently, clearly wanting comfort from her friend.

“After I get back, why don’t we spend some time together? Let’s watch some brainless tv, and maybe make hot cocoa with cinnamon. It’d be nice to hang out,” Emma cajoled, grabbing her shower caddy and towel so she could use their floor’s shared bathroom.

“Of course!” Mary Margaret replied with a placid smile. Once Emma left the room, she picked up her cell phone, telling David to be on the lookout for his own roommate. Killian hadn’t returned yet.

“Killian’s cell phone is still going directly to voicemail, so the only thing we can do is wait for him to surface. I’m sure he’s just fine,” David reassured her, but Mary Margaret wasn’t placated.

“You’d be more concerned if you had seen the way Emma looked when she got back, David! She’s a wreck, and it looks like she spent a long time crying. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her cry before! Usually, Emma keeps everything inside and Killian’s the one who wears his heart on his sleeve. I’m worried about him…” she whisper-spoke into the phone, just in case Emma returned.

“I’ll let you know the minute I hear something. He’s probably just licking his wounds somewhere — what Emma did sounds pretty heartless to me, so I wouldn’t be shocked if he’s hurting,” David pointed out, and Mary Margaret sighed in agreement.

“Don’t judge her too harshly, David. Promise that you’ll call me when he gets back, in case he needs a hug, or even just a friendly shoulder to lean on?”

“I promise.”

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Could you please do some HCs about cuddling with Killian Lynch, maybe how to cheer him up after a bad day while cuddling him? Thank you💕

Fluff headcanons incoming!!

Thank you so much for requesting!!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's blatantly obvious when Killian is having a bad day

He is more isolated, less talkative and he doesn't really speak to you as much as he normally would

So when he comes home late one night, not even bothering to say hello to you and instead just tredging up the stairs, you got worried

You share a worried look with another one of the creeps that had been downstairs with you, before getting up and following him

By the time you catch up to him, Killian had already gotten into his room and taken off his boots, beginning to slowly climb into bed

You sigh and step inside the room, closing the door behind you

You sit on the edge of Killian's bed and place a hand on his now covered shoulder

"You alright?" You ask

He lets an angry huff out of his nose

You stand up and walk around to the other side of the bed, taking up the corner of his comforter and sliding into the bed next to him

You pull the covers up to your neck and lay on your side, wrapping your arms around Killian's waist and nuzzling your nose into his back

You feel a cold hand brush up against yours, eventually intertwining his fingers with yours

You smile and kiss his back sweetly

"I love you" he whispers

"I love you more" you whisper back

You sit up and look over his shoulder to look him in the eye

"Do you wanna go somewhere?" You ask, twirling a lock of his hair between your fingers

Killian shakes his head and turns to lay on his other side, pulling you back down to his level and wrapping you up in a bear hug

"I just want to lay with you"

You bring your hand up to stroke his jawline, before pressing a small kiss to it

"Ok. We can do that" you say, burying your face into his chest

He smiles and strokes your hair with a hum

"You're so warm, love" he mutters, kissing multiple pecks onto your head

"Glad I could be your personal heater"

He hums and kisses you once more

"Feel better?" You ask

"Now that I'm with you, everything's better" he whispers, closing his eyes

You stay like this for many hours, eventually falling asleep in each other's arms

[spartanguard]

green with envy

Summary: Being back in Storybrooke brought up a lot of emotions in Emma—some forgotten, some new, and mostly unpleasant. Is that why she literally seems to be turning green with envy? And what can she do about it? (canon-divergent-ish from 3x14)

A/N: Hello! I am still here! This is just a kind of silly idea I've had floating around for a while, and finally finished. All the thanks to @optomisticgirl​ for looking it over! Hope you enjoy it!

rated T | 5.7k | AO3

Emma was wired with nervous energy as she and her dad shuffled into the loft. Finding the Witch’s hideout—and apparently that she had been holding the supposedly-dead Dark One captive—was definitely jarring, but it wasn’t the only thing that had her on edge.

That moment with Hook in the woods was still playing through her mind. 

“If it can be broken, that means it still works.”

Despite the distance she’d put between them after it (even though she came dangerously close to closing it), the idea lingered. She hated that he wasn’t as wrong as she wanted him to be, but mostly, she was envious that he could still have such an optimistic outlook, especially knowing that he’d been through as much shit as her, if not more, in the heartbreak department. 

Jealousy wasn’t a good look on anyone, but that hadn’t stopped her from metaphorically taking on the same pallor as the forest around her. So she was going to try to ignore that—and him—as much as she could. There were much bigger issues at hand. But for now, she’d settle with a nap and a drink.

Cruelly, though, this new curse had taken her mother’s expectant condition into account, and upon inspection of the cabinets and fridge, there wasn’t a drop of anything harder than ginger ale in the loft. She was making a mental note to bug Granny for the good stuff once she got back to the inn, but her mom had a different idea.

“Well, Zelena left this tea here,” Snow offered, holding what looked like a homemade tea bag. “It’s green, so it’s got too much caffeine for me, and your father doesn’t like it. Why don’t you take it?”

Eh, what the hell; it would do in a pinch. And Emma did have to admit, as she sipped it from one of the mugs she’d favored before the first curse had broken, that it was probably the best green tea she’d had in a while, even better than from her favorite sushi place in New York. 

It worked, for a bit, even though it made her a little homesick for the Big Apple. (The shot of whiskey she eventually got from Granny helped, too.) 

And, like she was prone to, she swallowed down all those difficult feelings as she drifted off to sleep that night.

═══════════════

The alarm on her phone came way too early the next morning, even if it was one of her favorite songs. She started to groan and curl inward, until she remembered that Henry was still asleep, and quickly silenced both her phone and herself. She shivered a bit as she got out from under the thick covers, wishing she could stay in the warmth but knowing she had stuff to do.

That didn’t stop the brief pang of jealousy as she looked over at Henry, still asleep and snug in his bed. But that was why she was doing this, right? To make sure he stayed safe and comfortable? She’d take a nap this afternoon or something.

As quietly as she could manage, she grabbed some clothes and headed into the bathroom to get dressed and ready. Except—was it just her, or were the lights in there terrible? She knew she was probably a little pasty after having spent most of the last year indoors, but she didn’t think she looked…green.

It looked better after she put on her foundation, though, so she finished her makeup, pressed a kiss on Henry’s head, grabbed her coat, and headed downstairs to meet her parents and the rest of their motley witch-hunting crew.

She blatantly ignored the flip of her stomach when she saw Killian was already in the sitting room, quickly jumping into business with her parents, who were also expectedly punctual. They set a plan for the day, and if Killian noticed that she intentionally put distance between them—both during their meeting and in their plan of action—he made no effort to breach it, thankfully.

Though even that was its own kind of torture—that he knew her so well as to give her space. Ugh.

Anyways. The rest of the day went without event—no progress, but no setbacks, either. She’d take that as its own kind of win, and couldn’t wait for one of Granny’s grilled cheeses for dinner.

At least, she had been, until she walked into the diner and saw Killian seated at the counter, leaning across it with a lascivious smirk on his face as he apparently flirted with Ruby. That jealous feeling from this morning turned her stomach again, so badly that she made a dash for the restroom. She thought she heard a “Swan” spoken on her breeze as she crossed the dining room, but she didn’t want to stop.

In the privacy of the ladies’ room, she took a deep breath. The nauseous feeling dissipated, but the longing didn’t quite. She splashed some water on her face to cool the flush that had arisen, and put a bit on her neck, too—but when she brought her hand back, it wasn’t red on her throat…it was more green, all along the left side. Not anything dramatic, but a noticeable change from her normal skin tone, and she couldn’t blame it on the lighting this time..

What the hell? Was there something wrong with the water? Maybe she should shower at her parents’ tomorrow.

But for now, she just tied her scarf tighter around her neck and decided to call it a night; there were some Pop-Tarts in the room that would have to suffice (goodness knew she’d had worse meals in the past). 

She hit something warm, solid, and wrapped in leather when she emerged, though. “Love, are you alright?” Killian had a steadying hand on her shoulder and worry in his brow.

“I’m fine; just tired,” she said quickly, stepping away from him—and pointedly avoiding his eyes.

“Swan, I know that’s not the whole of it,” he protested as she started to move for the stairs.

“Well, it’s certainly part,” she tossed back. “I’ll see you tomorrow; tell Ruby I said hi.”

She probably didn’t need to say that last part, but the jab felt good as she took the stairs two at a time. (The fact that he had no response—and knowing it was a low blow—wasn’t something she’d think about until she was safe in her room. She also may have feigned a headache as a reason to dim the lights, lest Henry notice the odd spot on her neck.)

═══════════════

It seemed like the spot had faded the next day; or, at least, she’d done a good job of convincing herself it had. She still needed her scarf to cover it, though; winter in Storybrooke necessitated one, so no one would really notice. 

In fact, she was feeling totally fine until she got down to the dining room. Henry had headed down first (only after promising not to talk to strangers, which was still most of town) and she saw him across the way, seated at a booth, laughing. For a minute, she was confused, until she saw David was sitting across from him.

She should have been happy to see that, even without Henry’s memories, he was still getting on well with his grandfather, and how good David was with him regardless. She may still have a hard time accepting David as her father, but there was no denying the man’s paternal leanings. 

The longer she watched, the more that sour, jealous feeling stirred in her stomach again. Henry didn’t have a complicated relationship with his father—not that he knew about, anyway; and he didn’t have to grapple with all the fairytale BS in his background. (She may have told him that he came via stork when he asked when he was 5, but that was still more probable than being shoved through an intra-realm portal in a tree.)

But at the same time, she didn’t want to rain on their good time with her descending mood, so she took the last seat on the counter instead. Granny almost immediately noticed the way she was slouching in her seat. “Hot chocolate and bear claw?” she called out from the other end of the bar.

“Please,” Emma gratefully replied.

It only took her a minute to get the necessary sustenance to Emma, and she expertly slid them across the counter. But before Emma could even pick up the mug, Granny’s firm grip was holding her chin. “Hold on there, girl; you have something on your nose.”

Emma had never known the feeling of a grandparent tending to her; it was simultaneously touching and embarrassing—especially when Granny used a little too much force trying to wipe away whatever was on her face. “Huh; it’s not budging. How did you get green on there, anyway?” she asked, narrowing her eyes and peering closer.

Shit—more of that? What the hell? “Oh, I must have knocked into something and bruised it,” she quickly lied, hopping up off her stool and out of Granny’s grasp, covering her nose with her hand. “I should…probably go look at it; I’ll bring the dishes back,” she blurted out, grabbing her plate and mug, and hurrying back upstairs (well, as fast as she dared with a mug of steaming hot cocoa).

Once back in her room, she set the food items aside and ran to the bathroom, flicking on the light. Sure enough, there was a greenish smudge on the side of her nose—not terribly dark, but noticeable.

Quickly, she grabbed her concealer stick and attacked her nose. A few times. That seemed to moderately cover it up. But this was getting weird; just what was in the water here that was causing—whatever this was? A rash, maybe? She’d gotten hives from nerves a couple of times; maybe this was related?

She stared for one more minute, but then just sighed and put her concealer in her pocket. There were bigger things to worry about than some weird blemish.

To her dismay, she ended up needing it more often than she expected. It seemed like every time she was in the restroom, she was reapplying makeup on some new spot. The rest of her nose changed color after a meeting in the mayor’s office, where Regina and Robin were shamelessly flirting (and honestly, they should just get together—but she envied that they both seemed so comfortable together); she had to cover up a spot on her chin after patrolling the woods with Robin and Roland and being in awe of how great a dad Robin was (she was jealous of how confident he was, and maybe a bit that Henry didn’t have any positive male role models like Roland did in abundance); and nearly caked it on the back of her hand during another stop at Granny’s, just after seeing a mouthwatering-looking grilled cheese on someone else’s plate.

As she frowned at her pallor in Granny’s washroom, still coveting that sandwich, she had to remind herself that envy didn’t look good on anyone, even though that was all she’d been feeling all day.

Wait—was that it? 

Was she literally turning green with envy?

This was Storybrooke; stranger things had certainly happened. (Flying monkeys, anyone?)

But…this seemed like a step too far. No, it was just a weird rash or something. She’d just make a dermatologist appointment when they got back to New York, she’d get some cream, and it’d go away in a couple weeks. Yup, that was all.

And everything was fine until she went back out to meet Henry for dinner. She glanced around the dining room for him, only for her stomach to turn more than once. 

First, when she saw Killian seated at the counter with Tink, deep in what seemed like a friendly, light conversation. There was a salacious smirk on his face, but Tink looked to be giving it right back to him—especially when he threw his head back and laughed, showing off the cords of his neck and that constantly teasing bit of chest hair that seemed to become even more exposed as his body heaved and shook. She’d love to have something like that with him, but her damn walls and worries kept that from happening.

Forcing herself to look away, her gaze settled on her parents, seated together on one side of a booth. The way they were cuddled together was almost sickly sweet, but what really got to her was the way David’s hand rested high on Snow’s so-round baby bump, likely feeling her future little sibling move around. God, was Granny chopping onions? She wiped some mist from her eyes, but it was hard to ignore the overwhelming jealousy she felt—both that her baby sibling would always know they were loved and wanted, and that she had to go through her own pregnancy just like she’d done everything else in life: alone.

God, she was queasy from how much it stung—both of those sights. Hopefully no one had seen her yet because, oh god—she was gonna be sick.

Fast as she could, she ran back to her room, just making the toilet in time before bile came up. She felt flushed and angry and bitter, even if she really had no reason to feel those things—or every reason to, and had just been triggered too many times in one day.

She turned back to the sink and ran the cold water, splashing a bit on her face to hopefully cool her overheated skin. She closed her eyes and did briefly enjoy the sensation; it helped a bit. At least, until she opened her eyes.

Because when she did, it became blatantly obvious that her hands were green.

And so were her forearms, when she pushed up her sleeves.

And then she looked in the mirror—and let out a yelp. Because whatever this new skin condition was had covered her entire face and neck now—even her scalp, when she moved her hair a bit to check. It wasn’t an ugly green, at least—kind of a light fern-y color—but still, so wrong.

What the fuck was going on?

She felt her face; her skin didn’t have any different texture than it usually had, so maybe the rash idea was out. 

Algae in the water, maybe? No; that didn’t do…this, whatever this was.

She’d look perfect if she wanted to audition for Wicked once they got back to New York, but there wasn’t enough concealer in the whole town to cover this up until then.

For a moment, she was envious of the way she looked when she woke up that morning—and, to her horror, watched herself turn a shade of green darker as that jealous feeling overcame her.

Fuck. She hadn’t been wrong—she was literally turning green with envy.

She groaned and hung her head. This. This was why she wanted to go back to New York. Where none of this stupid magical shit happened. At least, she had to assume that was the cause; she’d worry about the ‘how’ later; for now, she just had to not make it worse.

Maybe if she just stayed away from the stuff that seemed to be triggering it, it might reverse itself? With all the other crap going on, she didn’t want to pile this on—but at the same time, she knew trying to go out and about would inevitably draw attention to it, and her mom or someone would want to fix it.

But mainly—how the hell would she explain it to Henry?

So yeah, trying to resolve on her own was the best plan of action.

She called down to Granny to see if she could run up some food; the old wolf was confused by the request but complied, and Emma was careful to make sure she’d gone back downstairs before opening the door to grab the (perfect, beautiful, delicious) plate of grilled cheese and onion rings.

Playing the headache card again bought her another night in the dark with Henry, but she’d have to come up with a valid reason for that tomorrow. (Was it logical to say there was a power surge and the room was out of electricity? Even though there were other empty rooms on the floor? Eh, that was a tomorrow Emma problem.)

Thankfully, he didn’t question it again, and she was able to chalk up the hoodie wrapped tight around her head to the room being drafty.

But the next morning was another story. She woke before he did and tiptoed to the bathroom, but there was no change in her complexion. Damn.

She managed to get back under the covers and wrap them around her head before Henry stirred. Bless her caring boy, he figured she was still asleep and moved quietly around the room as he got ready before gently shaking her “awake”. “Hey Mom, you want to get some breakfast?”

She had to feign sounding ill. “Sorry, kid; I’m not feeling the best,” she said weakly.  “Maybe go see if Killian wants to go with you? And ask if you can hang out with him today?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just a stomach bug; I’m feeling a little green around the gills,” she said, then winced at the accuracy. “Give me a day and I should be fine.”

“Are you sure? Want me to get you some ginger ale?”

“Mm, maybe later; I just want to sleep right now.” Thank god her internal lie detector wasn’t hereditary.

“Alright,” he said, though he sounded uncertain. “I’ll check on you later, okay?”

“Okay,” she chuckled. “Have fun.”

She felt him press a kiss to the blanket wrapped around her head, then waited until she heard the door click shut to remove it. Hopefully, she could convince Granny to do delivery again.

Several minutes later, she was still sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling her phone absentmindedly (she’d been about to call Granny when she got distracted by a Facebook notification) when a sudden, insistent knock on the door made her jump and drop the device in her lap.

“Swan? Are you alright, love?”

Dammit. She should have known Hook would want to check up on her after Henry talked to him. Though, based on the way he’d been flirting with every other woman in town the last two days, she was mildly surprised.

“I’m fine,” she called back. “Just a stomach thing; I’ll be good by tomorrow. Can you watch Henry today?”

“Of course, but who’s going to look after you?”

She scoffed. “Me. I can take care of myself.”

“You don’t have to, you know,” he said softly; she almost didn’t hear it through the thin door.

“I’ve made it this far,” she bit back. “I’ll survive another day.”

“Can I bring you anything, then?”

“No!” she yelled, mostly out of panic; knowing him, he wouldn't be satisfied to leave her something without actually seeing her. “I’ll be fine; just—go.”

He sighed, and it wasn’t hard to imagine him hanging his head in frustration. “Can you at least open the door for a moment? Assuage my worries?”

She rolled her eyes. “You have nothing to worry about. Besides, I look super gross.” That part wasn’t entirely a lie, at least.

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“Trust me,” she lamented, looking over her chartreuse hand. “Seriously, just—take Henry fishing or something, or go hang out with Tink; I know you’d be happier hanging out with her.”

“Swan, you do realize that by insisting on my absence, I’m far more likely to want to stay?”

Emma groaned at his persistence and flopped back on the mattress, making her phone clatter to the floor. 

“What was that? Hold on; I’m coming in.”

“No!” she shouted again, jumping up and running for the door. Henry hadn’t locked it so Hook had no trouble turning the knob. But she was on her feet immediately, and he’d only opened the door a few inches before she was slamming her whole body against it, forcing it shut. 

“Emma, what the bloody hell is going on?”

“Nothing! Can’t I just have a day to myself?”

“If it were that simple, then why feign illness?”

“Well, I thought that meant people would leave me alone, but I guess I was wrong.” Who knew she’d long for the days when she didn’t have people looking out for her—but, more importantly, expecting her to save the day? She held her hand up, and sure enough, it turned another shade of green darker. At least she’d have good camouflage the next time she went into the forest.

“Perhaps it’s because people care about you,” Killian snapped. He may not have said it specifically, but they both knew he was referring to himself. “Have you considered that?”

“Yeah, well, maybe they care too much. The sooner they figure that out, the better.” She was being dramatic, she knew, but until she got over this thing, it’d be better to keep people at arm’s length.

“Swan,” he nearly whined. “You can’t possibly still think so little of yourself. There are so many people here who—”

“Don’t even start,” she cut off. “I’ve heard that hope speech before. But it’s not exactly something you can easily accept when your whole life, you’ve been some orphan freak. No one wants that.”

Well, now it was getting personal, it seemed. Why did he always have that way of cutting to the deep of her issues?

“You are not some ‘orphan freak’, love,” he replied, almost indignantly. “You are a fierce, strong—”

Okay. It was time to shut him up. Without even thinking, she swung the door open and finished his sentence for him. “Green-skinned weirdo?”

It was rare she was able to render him speechless; this situation wasn’t quite the confidence boost it normally would be, though. His jaw hung slack and she could see his eyes roving over what skin he could see (not much outside of her hoodie and sweats). 

After an eternal several seconds, he closed his mouth and swallowed. Then, to her surprise, he gave her a smirk. “That’s quite the look, Swan—it rather complements your eyes.”

She rolled her eyes; of course he’d turn this into flirting, so she tried to close the door on him. But he stopped it with his hand. “Hold on, darling—might I come in? I suspect you don’t want to draw any wandering eyes into our forthcoming conversation.”

She hung her head; he was right—they needed to talk, but she didn’t want anyone else to see her. “Where’s Henry?”

“He’s downstairs with Ruby.”

She snorted. “Surprised you’re not there to properly teach him how to flirt.” It slipped out automatically.

“Beg your pardon?” Killian sounded slightly offended. 

“You heard me,” she scoffed. “I saw you with her yesterday; I know you can’t resist her charms,” she replied, mimicking his accent (poorly).

His brow furrowed, but not in anything resembling the shame she wanted to see on his face; no, his eyes were wandering over her own face and neck in a way that made her feel exposed. She looked away, down at her feet, but that was when she noticed that the skin of her hand was yet darker. Dammit.

She just sighed and stepped aside, extending an arm to invite him in. He slipped into the room swiftly and quietly with a grace that she was doing her damnedest to not be envious of; surely there was a maximum on this thing? (Plants could only turn so green, right? Maybe this was a…chloroform? No, chlorophyll—thing. She’d never paid much attention in science class.)

She closed the door quickly behind him, and he turned to face her, his jacket swishing distractingly around his legs and making it seem like he was taking up more of the room than he actually did. Or maybe it was just the overall immensity of his presence in the room, or the weight of the tension between them. 

“Is it safe to assume that this isn’t a cosmetics choice?” he started, gesturing at her face.

“Obviously,” she confirmed, rolling her eyes. “And last I checked, my foundation hadn’t gotten moldy.” Though she did need some more—she’d just about used hers up with all of this.

“Am I to gather, then, that it’s something a bit more…supernatural in its occurrence?”

“If that’s your fancy way of asking if it’s magic, then yeah; at least—I think so,” she shrugged. “I don’t know how or why it started all of a sudden, but every time I feel jealous, I get a little more…like this. Looking like the freaking Wicked Witch herself.”

“Do you think it was her?”

“I don’t know; maybe,” she huffed, then flopped down on the end of the bed. “I hadn’t exactly gotten that far. It’s not like I’ve really had a chance to think about the things happening to me. It’s as good a guess as any, but it doesn’t solve a damn thing.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he concurred, his voice gentle, and she could almost cry—it was the first time anyone had just simply agreed with her in nearly a week and let her vent. “What started it?”

She recounted as much as she could remember over the last couple of days—the little things, like wanting to sleep in or coveting a sandwich, and the bigger emotions from last night when it came to her parents and Henry. She couldn’t bring herself to mention anything regarding her emotions towards him, though.

He listened, but tilted his head when she was done. “That doesn’t seem like everything, love. I’m no expert on magic, but I know it involves emotion, and you haven’t described anything particularly deep.”

“What, seeing my parents getting ready to have the perfect life with their new baby isn’t a deep enough emotion? Why would they still want me around when they’ll have everything they ever wanted with that one?”

It was a cathartic release of everything she’d been holding in on that subject pretty much ever since they got back to town. Killian said nothing, just stared intently, seemingly inviting her to go on—so she did.

“And Henry—I’m so jealous of the fact that he doesn’t have to deal with all this magical bullshit, but even the fact that he’s missing those memories is magic in itself and…god, I wish I was still there with him. I miss our old life, and I feel like such an awful parent having to lie to him constantly here.

“And you!” she continued, now on a roll. “I’m still mad and a little heartbroken over the Walsh crap—absolutely not in the market for a new guy, at all—but you’re here and being all caring and I think, y’know, maybe? But then I see you flirting with Tink and Ruby and I just remember—why on earth would you want someone with all my baggage?”

She paused to catch her breath. Then, in a small voice, ended with, “And how much of an asshole am I for thinking all of this?”

She wasn’t prepared for whatever judgment was on Hook’s face, so she just fell backwards against the bed and threw her arm over her eyes. 

No response came immediately, but then she felt a dip in the mattress near her and the springs squeaked as Hook took a seat a respectable distance away. “A completely normal one,” he finally said. “Perhaps even justified.”

She rolled her eyes, even if they were still hidden under her arm. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not. It’s not uncommon for an older child to feel replaced by a younger one; even if the age gap is a bit more dramatic here, given the course of your life, it’s completely understandable. And it’s even more so that you miss what you and Henry had; even if it started falsely, the last year was real, and special, it sounds like.” There was a bittersweet edge to his voice at that, reminding her that he still hadn’t been fully honest with her regarding his past year. Not important now, though.

“And, love,” he went on. His careful fingers found her wrist and gently pulled her arm away from her face. She was hesitant to meet his gaze, but when she finally did, the condescending look she was expecting wasn’t there—only a small, almost insecure smile and understanding. “I don’t know why you’d think I’d be concerned about the complications of your past, when my own is significantly moreso—a fact of which I know you are aware.”

He had her there; it was no use to try to argue that fact.

“And when it hasn’t stopped me from admiring you thus far,” he added, a bit quickly—like he was blurting out a confession, even though he’d never exactly hid his feelings. She certainly hadn’t forgotten the Echo Cave, or their brief encounter prior to that. The one that meant a lot more than she’d told herself it did.

Although—she’d kind of just admitted as much, hadn’t she? She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks as she blushed (and wondered what color it came up as). 

“Yeah, well, I’m sure your daydreams didn’t include some green freak,” she countered, rolling on her side away from him and crossing her arms. Even if she had just accidentally admitted her feelings, that didn’t mean she was ready to pursue them right away. So back behind her walls it was.

“Emma,” he sighed, sounding almost exasperated. Good. He stood and stepped around her, looking down at where she was pouting. “Despite my care for my personal appearance, I’m not actually that shallow. I don’t give a damn what’s on your outside; your spirit and your soul are what’s beautiful to me. And don’t you dare doubt it for a second.”

She swallowed; he sounded genuinely angry, and she could see something resembling hurt within the fire in his gaze. She sat up. “You really mean that?” she asked quietly.

He sat down again next to her. “Bloody hell, love; how else can I convince you?”

Her entire body was suddenly aware of how close his was to her—even more than their moment in the woods the other day. She wasn’t sure if she was feeling heat from the adrenaline of their conversation, or just off of him, or both, but she found herself swaying ever so slightly closer to him, chasing it, until her face was hardly even an inch from his.

He was watching her carefully, his blue eyes taking her in under the studious set of his brow. She held his gaze, but then glanced at his mouth—and that was all it took.

Almost involuntarily, she leaned the rest of the way in and found his lips with hers. He stiffened at first, but only for a fraction of a second before leaning into her, his hand finding its way into her loose hair.

She hadn’t forgotten how skilled he was in this department, but it was a nice refresher; like their first time, she grabbed his jacket to get closer and deepen the kiss. His hand slid down, gripping her waist, and she felt his hook settle on her other hip.

And as they sat there making out, it was like a weight lifted off her—yeah, she was dealing with some pretty heavy feelings, but she didn’t need to feel guilty about it; she just needed to feel them, and then move on. The people that loved her would love her no matter what. She maybe wasn’t ready to admit that was what the situation was with Killian, but he was on her side—and that was enough.

And goddamn, could he kiss.

She couldn't help it—she was craving more and threw her leg over his lap to straddle him. But he wasn’t ready for that and ended up falling back on the mattress, bringing her with him. “Oh, shit—sorry!” she blurted out (while trying to catch her breath).

He just laughed, that deep chuckle that did nothing to tamper her growing arousal. “It’s plenty fine, love,” he wheezed, grinning with his eyes squinted shut.

She at least rolled to the side so she wasn’t crushing him while he tried to catch his breath, and couldn’t help but laugh a bit herself. Finally, he turned his head to her and opened his eyes, a soft expression settling over him. “There you are, Swan,” he said, reaching across and brushing her hair out of her face. “Looking more yourself already.”

Huh? She glanced at her hand where it had settled on his chest, temptingly close to the open vee of his tunic. It was back to its normal (probably too) pale color. 

“Though I must admit, the green had been growing on me,” he quipped. She lightly slapped his chest where her hand rested. “You seem to be in better spirits, then,” he observed.

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “Thanks for getting me through that.”

“Anytime, love,” he said softly, and she knew he meant it.

So she kissed him again.

(Several times.) (And maybe a bit more than kiss.)

═══════════════

They did eventually meet back up with Henry, who had been hanging out with Ruby in the meantime. He might have given Emma a knowing smirk she pretended to ignore, but was mostly happy she was feeling better. (And later, when he got his memories back, was far too amused by the fact his mom was dating Captain Hook.)

She might have leaned a little bit harder into her parents’ hugs that week. And might have enjoyed a couple more grilled cheeses.

But the most satisfying moment came during an encounter with Zelena at Granny’s, once they knew she was their enemy. She looked at Emma and sneered. “Why aren’t you green?”

Emma glanced over her shoulder at Killian, who was giving her an encouraging smirk. “Guess I just didn’t let envy get the better of me. Better question is: why aren’t you?”

Zelena screamed in frustration and disappeared in a cloud of green smoke. They hadn’t beat her yet, but with everyone who loved her on her side, they were bound to yet.

Though if she took a few extra kisses from her pirate for moral support…that was her business.

═══════════════

thanks for reading! tagging some peeps: @kat2609 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @wistfulcynic​  @phiralovesloki​  @thisonesatellite @iverna  @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture  @wingedlioness @word-bug  @distant-rose @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @pirateherokillian @its-imperator-furiosa-default @fergus80 @killianmesmalls @thejollyroger-writer @ineffablecolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubblesandwich  @athenascarlet​ @kmomof4​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @snowbellewells​ @idristardis​ @scientificapricot​ @searchingwardrobes​ @donteattheappleshook​ @jrob64​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @itsfabianadocarmo @stahlop​ @klynn-stormz​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @deckerstarblanche​

[braveclementine]

Barrel of Monkeys

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OC Elizabeth Lightwood. I do not condone any copying of this.

"What's this? I have winners." Tony walked in with the Iron man suit, holding a ping pong paddle that he'd grabbed from a half-naked girl that had run past him, while also holding a brief case. There were two agents in the room, both with guns and wearing suits and ties. The Mandarin was also in the room, asleep in his chair, a soda can between his two hands.

They shot at him and he blocked the bullets with the paddle before Rhodey came crashing through a window and shot them.

"What have you come as?" The Mandarin asked.

Rhodey got up and pointed the gun at Trevor's face. "You make a move, and I break your face." Rhodey pushed the reclining chair back with his foot.

"I never thought people had been hurt. They lied to me." Trevor said.

"This is the Mandarin?" Rhodey asked incredulously, looking over at Tony.

"Yeah, I know, it's. . . embarrassing."

"Hi, Trevor. Trevor Slattery." Trevor said, holding out a hand that Rhodey did not shake, but rather, slapped out of his face. "I know I'm shorter in person. A bit smaller. Everyone says that. But, um, hey, if you're here to arrest me, there's some people I'd like to roll on."

"Here's how it works, Meryl Streep. You tell him where Y/N is and he'll stop doing it."

"Doing what?" Rhodey put the gun down and it burnt his ear. Trevor cried out in pain, grabbing his ear, "Ow! That hurt! I get it! I get it! I get it! I don't know about any Y/N, but I know about the plan."

"Spill."

"Do you know what they did to my suit?" Rhodey asked.

"What? No. But I do know it's happening off the coast. Something to do with a big boat."

Suddenly, Tony could hear footsteps coming down the hallway. They were stealthily ones and he half listened to the Mandarin and half readied himself to shoot whoever came into the room.

"I can take you there." Suddenly, he screamed, scaring Rhodey who jumped. "Ole, ole, ole, ole."

His stupid motherfucking soccer team had scored.

"Tony, I swear to God, I'm gonna blow his face off." Rhodey growled.

"Oh, and this next bit may include the Vice President as well." the Mandarin continued. "Is that- is that important?"

"Somewhat" Tony said.

"Yeah, a little bit." Rhodey said.

"Definitely." Another voice replied and Rhodey and Tony spun.

"Cap?" Tony asked in annoyance and exasperation. "What are you doing here?"

"Where's Y/N?" Natasha asked.

"Killian has her." Tony replied. "And Everleigh."

"Who are they?" The Mandarin asked, pointing at them. Rhodey glared at him.

"What are you doing here?" Tony asked again.

"Y/N had been keeping in touch with us." Steve explained, lowering his shield and taking his helmet off. "We knew she'd gone missing, we were looking for her."

"Right, well, she's not here. One sec." Tony turned back to the Mandarin. "Hey, Ringo, didn't you say something about a lovely speedboat?"

🎃 :::::  🧡  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  🧡  ::::: 🎃

Tony, Rhodey, Nat, Clint, and Steve were standing under the cover as the speedboat drove. Nat was piloting it.

"If he's right about the location, we're twenty minutes from where Y/N is." Tony said, feeling stressed. He was glad for the extra help, but also not glad for it at the same time.

"But we also have to figure out this vice president thing, right?" Rhodey asked.

"Right." Tony said, "I wonder who I'm calling right now. Oh! That's the Vice President."

Steve rolled his eyes but Clint laughed.

"Hello?" The voice was on speaker so everyone could hear.

"Sir, this is Tony Stark."

"Welcome back to the land of the living."

"We believe you're about to be drawn into the Mandarin campaign. We gotta get you somewhere safe as soon as possible."

"Mr. Stark, I'm about to eat honey-roast ham, surrounded by the Agency's finest. The presidents safe on Air Force One with Colonel Rhodes. I think we're good, here."

"Sir, this is Colonel Rhodes." Rhodey spoke up now. "They're using the Iron Patriot as a Trojan horse. They're gonna take out the President somehow. We have to immediately alert that plane."

"Okay, I'm on it. I'll have security lock it down. If need be, we can have F-22s in the air in 30 seconds. Thank you, Colonel."

"Rhodes and Stark out." Rhodey said.

Once they had hung up, that was when the real conversation began. "We can either save the president, or Y/N. We can't do both." Rhodey said.

"Sir, I have an update from Malibu." Jarvis said before anyone else could speak. "The cranes have finally arrived and the cellar doors are being cleared as we speak."

"And what about the suit I'm wearing?" Tony asked.

"The armor is now at 92%."

"That's gonna have to do." He grunted, pulling out the battery wires he'd been using to charge his suit. And then he flew up into the air. He zoomed after the jet. Maybe, with him going after the President, perhaps the others would go and save Y/N. He'd deal with this one on his own.

He could see hot boy walking through the plane and fired a shot at him through the window, before coming up behind him. He tackled him into the wall and he heard him grunt. He lifted his hand to the man's face. "The President. Now!"

"He's not here." The man hissed, grabbing the arm, causing the suit to malfunction from the heat. Tony hissed himself in pain. "Try the jet stream? Speaking of which," He saw the red button as he lifted it. "Go fish." He heard the explosion.

Tony went to hit him over the head, but now both of his arms were in the hot grip of Savin. He finally wrenched his arms away and then blasted him through the chest with his chest blaster. "Walk away from that you son of a bitch."

"How many in the air?" He shouted at Jarvis as he flew through the hole.

"Thirteen sir." Jarvis said.

"How many can I carry?"

"Four, sir."

Tony zoomed as fast as he could go, catching one of the women first. She was screaming hysterically, not that he could blame her. "Slow down. Slow down, relax. What's your name? Heather?"

The plane exploded above him and she stopped screaming incessantly and started screaming words. "Oh God! No! No!"

"Listen to me. See that guy?" He pointed at one that was falling past him. "I'm gonna swing by him. You're just gonna grab him. You got it?"

"What? Oh!"

"I'll electrify your arm. You won't be able to open your hand." He informed her. "We can do this Heather." He was proud that she already had one arm out to the side, her hand open, ready to grab.

There was a bit of a struggle, but finally she managed to grab him. "Easy, see? Eleven more to go."

They were all still screaming around him. "Remember that game called barrel of monkeys? That's what we're going to do."

"Eighteen thousand feet." Jarvis informed him.

"Come on, people. Grab your monkey."

He watched as two more men were added to the chain. "Nice." Arms wrapped around him from behind.

"Ten thousand feet."

Two more.

"Six thousand feet."

"Come on, people." There was a difficulty on the end farthest from him. "Come on, come on, come on!" Two more people added. "YEAH!"

"One thousand feet. Four hundred feet. Two hundred feet, sir."

"He's a chunky monkey, let's get him. Hello." He said as the one on the end grabbed him. Tony boosted upwards as best as he could and they rose up once more, the ones on the bottom of the weird pyramid, their feet brushing the water.

And then Tony slowed down, letting all of them fall into the water. He turned around and saw that they had all surfaced, and were cheering him on.

"Nice work guys." He said, pleased with himself, and with them. "Excellent. Good team effort all around. Go us. All right Jarvis. But it's only half-done. We've still got to get Y/N-" He turned and flew straight into a truck, the armor scattering everywhere.

He winced and then opened his eyes. "That came out of nowhere." He sighed with relief and then winced again when sunlight streamed into the cabin space that he'd been controlling the suit remotely from.

"Give me some good news man." Rhodey said from behind him.

"I think they all made it."

"Oh thank God." Rhodey said.

"Yeah, but I missed the President."

"You couldn't save the President with the suit, how are we going to save Y/N with nothing?" Rhodey asked, walking away.

"Uh- say Jarvis, is it that time?"

"The House Party Protocol sir?"

"Correct."

He thought about the space that he had hidden under the house. The circular platform that even Y/N didn't know about because he didn't want her to worry. Didn't want want her to see how many suits he had made because he couldn't sleep. All the suits that he made when he could have been sleeping next to her.

He was angry with himself for not spending those nights with her. He had wasted so much time and now she could die.

He had to do better.

He would.

He had to.

🎃 :::::  🧡  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  🧡  ::::: 🎃

You came to with a start, feeling a warmth coursing through your veins. At least it wasn't the burning hot pain that had caused you to pass out. It had felt as though your insides were melting with the most painful of fire.

"Hi." Killian said as you jerked, seeing him.

You breathed in deeply, your lungs feeling weird, as you surveyed the place around you. It was a workshop of some kind, with metal scaffolding and forklifts.

"You think he's gonna help you?" You asked with a scoff, shaking your head. "He won't."

Killian stepped forward, placing a hand on the metal that kept you locked in place. You couldn't move.

"Having you here is not just to motivate Tony Stark. It's, um- Well, it's actually more embarrassing than that." He gave a little laugh. "You're here as my um-"

"Trophy." You snarled.

He laughed again and then hummed in agreement.

You looked away before you heard metal footsteps and looked up in hope. At first, that hope flickered when you saw it was not Tony, but it still bubbled there because it was Rhodey and you knew that Rhodey would help you.

"Good evening sir."

And then the suit opened and the President of the United States dropped to his knees out of the container. You felt horror wash over you and the sense of helplessness was there as well. If only you could help the President.

Your hands pressed against the bonds, wishing you could lift your shoulders so you could free them.

Yes, you didn't trust the Government as a whole. But there were still good, individual people in there. And you believed that this President was one of them. He had done things on live television to try and keep the Mandarin from killing people. He didn't listen when his advisors told him not to.

"Welcome aboard, Mr. President." Killian grinned.

He led the President away and you were alone again. You banged your head back against the metal and hoped that something would happen soon.

🎃 :::::  🧡  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  🧡  ::::: 🎃

Tony followed Rhodey as they sneaked along the dark side of the boat. Steve followed behind him. Nat and Clint had gone their own own way, probably to find high ground for Clint.

The three of them made their way up a ladder and then darted through the dark. They had to stay in stealth mode because Rhodey had one gun, Tony had one gun, and Steve had a shield. That was it and no protection for the first two.

"You're not gonna freak out on me, right?" Rhodey hissed to Tony.

"I hope not." Tony replied and Steve shot him a look.

They made their way closer to the blue structure where cameras were being pointed and lights were being shown.

In the middle of the scene on the ground was a lit up Christmas tree with a star on top. Hung above that in the Iron Patriot suit was the President.

"Oh my God." Rhodey whispered and then came back to tell the two of them, "He's strung up over the oil tanker. They're gonna light him up, man."

"You two go to him." Steve said. "I'll get Y/N and Everleigh."

It did not sit well with Tony that the glorious Steve Rogers that Howard Stark loved and adored more than his own son was going to save his wife and daughter.

"Viking funeral. Public execution." Tony muttered to Rhodey, ignoring Steve.

"Yeah, death by oil." Rhodey said, giving Steve the 'wait a minute' look.

The three of them darted across the opening, heading for the stairs and started to head up them.

"Broadcast to commence shortly. Take final positions."

"Is your gun up?" Rhodey asked as they neared the top of the stairs.

Tony immediately lifted his gun. "Yep. What do I do?"

Steve sighed and made a quick motion like he was going to take the gun, then thought better of it.

"Stay on my six, cover high, and don't shoot me or Cap in the back." Rhodey said.

"Six, high, back. All right." Tony rattled off, nervous. He'd never shot a gun in his life before today. And he really did not have good aim.

"Clint has high ground already." Steve muttered to them. "On your eight."

Tony looked up randomly, but could see the bird blending in with the night, his arrows already slotted in his bow.

"Nat's looking for Y/N." Steve muttered.

The shooting happened almost immediately. Tony shot, but he wasn't sure he hit more than glass. Steve's shield flew out, slicing the man's head off before coming back to Steve. The Captain looked a little sick. "I didn't mean to throw so hard."

"Don't get soft now." Tony shouted as he ducked from more gunshots, following Rhodey. "See that, nailed it."

"Yeah, you really killed the glass." Rhodey replied sarcastically. Tony heard a somewhat familiar whistling sound and saw someone fall from Clint's arrow.

"You think I was aiming for the bulb?" Tony asked. "You can't hit a bulb at this distance."

Rhodey immediately got up, fired once, and all of the glass shattered out of the light.

"All personnel, we have hostiles on east unit 12."

"Over there!"

"They're coming!" Steve shouted, the shield flying in the air again.

"That's what she said." Tony muttered and Rhodey snickered.

"I'm out." Tony said, checking his gun. "Give me- You got extra magazines?"

"They're not universal, Tony." Rhodey sighed in exasperation.

"I know what I'm doing. I make this stuff. Give me another one." Tony demanded. "One of yours."

"I don't got one that fits that gun."

"Are you two going to argue all day?" Steve shouted, kicking another bad guy in the chest.

"You have like five of them! Okay, here's what I'm gonna do. Save my spot, ready?" He hopped up.

"What'd you see?"

"To fast, nothing."

"Stark!" Steve grunted, leaping over the box to land in front of the two of them. "What are you doing?"

"Out of ammo." Tony snapped, pissed at the stupid soldier. Tony stood up and looked over and then called out to Rhodey, "Three guys. One girl. All armed."

The three of them stood and Tony could see that they were all glowing under the skin. None of them had done that up till this point and Steve looked at Tony. "They're glowing."

"It's fire." Tony shot back.

"God, I would kill for some armor right now." Rhodey hissed.

"You're right. We need backup."

"Yeah, a bunch."

"You know what?" Tony asked, watching more of them come.

Rhodey squinted into the distance and Steve shielded his eyes with his hand.

"Is that-?"

"Yep." Tony replied, pleased with himself.

"Barton?" Steve asked in his coms and Tony wished he could hear.

"Are those-"

"Yeah."

"Merry Christmas buddy." Tony said, patting Rhodey on the shoulder as all of the Iron Man suits- nearly fifty of them- settled into the air around the place.

"Jarvis, target EXTREMIS heat signatures. Disable with extreme prejudice."

"Yes, sir." They all responded.

"That's creepy." Steve muttered.

"What are you waiting for? It's Christmas." He made random hand motions and then threw his hands up into the air dramatically. "Take them to church."

Steve made an offended sound in the back of his throat. He'd forgotten spangles was a Christian. Oh well, he could get over it.

"Incoming!" Tony shouted as one of the parts of the Iron Man suit came flying towards them. It exploded below them. "Jarvis, get Igor to steady this thing." Tony demanded.

Steve put his shield on his back, picking up Tony's empty gun and loading it with ammo, sliding it into his own holster. Tony decided to let him keep it as a Christmas present.

"This is how you've been managing your down time, huh?" Rhodey asked him as they crouched.

"Everybody needs a hobby." Tony explained. He looked around, watching the drones take out everyone that had the heat signatures they were targeting. Clint was still above, knocking people out with arrows through their necks, one by one.

"Heartbreak, help red snapper out, will you?" Tony commanded.

"Did you name all of them?" Steve asked, flinging his shield to knock one of the fiery bastards off of one of the suits.

"Duh, they're my children." Tony responded before ducking as there was a huge fiery explosion from one of his suits crashing into something.

"Nice timing." Tony said as one of the suits landed in front of him and opened up. He stepped inside and it closed around him.

"Oh, yeah. That's awesome. Give me a suit, okay?" Rhodey asked, sticking his arms out like Tony had. Steve rolled his eyes, grabbing his shield and then touched his com.

"Oh, I'm sorry. They're only coded to me." Tony replied.

"What does that mean?"

"I've got you covered." Tony said, blasting off and telling Jarvis to go and pick Rhodey up.

He saw Steve running towards one of the burning buildings and Clint was climbing down from where he had been before.

"Sir, I've located Mrs. Stark."

"About time." Tony said harshly.

Tony headed to where Jarvis was telling him that she was located and found her lying under a pile of debris. He was almost certain that Y/N was unconscious. He picked up a piece of scrap to move it and she jolted as things started to fall.

"Stop! Put it down. Put it down. Put it down." Y/N said quickly, eyes round with fear.

Tony knelt down and let the face plate pop open, "See what happens when you hang out with my ex-girlfriends?"

Y/N managed him a small smile and then said, "You're such a jerk."

"Yep. We'll talk about it over dinner." He said, extending a hand for her to take. She reached for him, struggling. "Come on, a little more baby."

Y/N grunted and their fingers touched before Tony gasped as a melted hand shot out of the floor and burned and entire hole through his chest.

Tony fell backwards.

"Is this guy bothering you?" Killian's voice asked. "Don't get up." He said, appearing over Tony. He pressed a glowing finger to Tony's chest. "Ooh, is it hot in there? Stuck? Do you feel a little stuck? Like a little turtle, cooking in his little turtle suit."

"Tony." Y/N gasped.

"She's watching." Killian hissed. "I think you should close your eyes. Close your eyes. Close your eyes, you don't want to see this."

He raised his hand, probably to stab Tony in the face or something, but Tony never gave him a chance. As Killian's arm swung down, Tony released a blade, letting Killian cut his own arm off, which flopped away.

At the same time that Killian started to gasp in pain, Natasha was suddenly leaping down, flipping him over her shoulder so that he hit his head against the metal. Suddenly, Y/N uttered a little scream and there was the sound of metal crashing.

"I found Everleigh!" Natasha shouted over at him. Her face was streaked with grime and soot from the flames. "She's with Clint now."

Tony nodded his thanks, getting out of his suit. He could hear stuff moving and could hear Y/N shouting for him. He watched as she got pulled one way because something had hit a cable wire. He immediately started to run with it. "Nat, get back to Rhodey and Steve. I've got Y/N."

He ran, knowing that there was a guy behind him, and leaped from one yellow stairwell to another. A flying suit hit the guy following so that he never made the jump.

He could see Y/N holding on tightly to the junk that she was laying upon, watching him with fearful eyes. Tony started sprinting along the runway, seeing the endpoint. "Jarvis, give me a suit right now!"

One suit got blasted out of the sky. Another appeared in front of him, but the moment he attempted to get into it, it was flung out of the way and smashed against a metal pole. He tucked and rolled out of the missed attempt and muttered, "Come on!"

Tony heard another explosion, and looked over just in time to see Rhodey hanging above the explosion, his hands wrapped around one of the cables that held the President up.

He didn't have time to see if they made it to safety.

He leapt out into the air and landed harshly on a support beam.

"President is secure Tony. I'm gonna start securing the area. Clint and Everleigh are with him."

"Nice work." Tony said.

He climbed up onto the hold where Y/N dangled above him. There was still space and he braced himself to the best of his ability and reached out. "Y/N I got you. Relax I got you."

She nodded, but didn't let go, her fingers white around the grip of the pole. She was hanging upside down, staring at him with wide eyes. She was terrified, but holding it together.

"Honey, I can't reach any further and you can't stay there." He said. "You've gotta let go."

He saw the determination in her eyes and she didn't hesitate, letting go of the pole. He saw her eyes relax, knowing that he would catch her. She was falling perfectly, and then the entire thing lurched. Her eyes widened again.

"NO!" He shouted, and he reached out. She twisted in midair, missing his hands, but grabbing the beam below him.

She hung above the firey mess below her. He bent down to help her, grabbing her wrist, but the maneuver was to strange and he couldn't pull her up any farther. Killian suddenly walked up, heading towards him.

"Fight him Tony." Y/N gasped. "I can help myself."

Her fingers were slipping, he could see that. But he also knew that she was right.

And then, just as he stood to meet Killian, Killian threw something at her. She let go on instinct and her eyes widened.

He felt his soul leave his body and watched as Y/N was consumed by the flames.

[noodyl-blasstal]

Icy Hot Romance - Best Served Cold Chapter 4

It's day 4 of @tazsapphicweek which means it's time for Chapter 4 of Best Served Cold!

Read below or on Ao3. Missed the start? Here's ch 1, ch 2, and ch 3.

-

Raven

opens the door for Sloane then locks it behind her and pulls down the roller blind. “Did anyone see you?”

“If by anyone you mean Istus, no.” Sloane replies, trying to soothe Raven’s obvious anxiety. She’s not in the business of keeping things from her wife. It feels wrong.

“Okay, good.” Raven sits back on the fancy ergonomic stool they all clubbed in to buy for her 60th birthday. “We haven’t got much time, and we need a plan.”

“Carey says it’s bad.” Killian looks more serious than Raven has ever seen her, and that’s saying something. “Istus is trying to be cool about it, but it’s clearly deeply uncool.”

“We need to figure out who’s trying to fuck with her.” Hurley already has her notebook in hand. “I’ve been trying to think of motives.”

“It’s The Good Dick Store.” Sloane and Killian reply in tandem.

Raven tries to stifle a laugh and fails horribly.

“Well obviously, but we have to prove it.” Hurley turns her notebook round. Raven refuses to switch out her glasses for this, but thankfully Hurley knows her well enough to know how stubborn she is about her definitely completely fine eyesight. “It’s a list of suspects and I’ve crossed everyone out apart from Good Lick.”

“Why am I on there?” Sloane asks, indignant. “I love Istus!”

“Exactly, and that’s why The Raven and Ram got crossed off first. I’ve got to be thorough though. You understand?”

“I guess you did also put Raven’s on.” Sloane says, soothed.

“You did what?” Raven stands up, managing not to make the long customary ‘hup’ noise through the sheer power of indignance.

“Always suspect the spouse.” Killian says with a knowing nod.

“I would never do anything to hurt Istus!” Raven’s hurt that they’d even think for a second the she would…

“It wasn’t you.” Hurley says quick and placating. “You can’t work Facebook, there’s no way.”

“Did you put yourself on too?”

“Gotta be thorough.” Hurley nods. “I crossed you and I off really fast. I put everyone on the list.”

“Well if it was them then I can just go over and tell them to stop.” Raven reaches for her jacket. Between her height and the flowing leather people tend to listen to her.

“Nope!” The others say in tandem. Killian moves to stand in front of the door, they’re so quick! It’s unfair.

“Well we can’t just do nothing!” Raven reaches for the handle and Killian slaps her hand away.

“We’re not going to do nothing, we’re going to make a plan.” Hurley sounds firm enough that Raven retreats from the door with a sigh.

“They already know what they’re doing is wrong, Raven. You telling them isn’t going to fix it.” Sloane adds.

“But we’re going to find evidence, and we’re going to get them.” Killian says, patting Raven on the shoulder.

“How? What can I do?”

“Host us later? We’ll have a proper meeting, but I have a security meeting with management in 10.” Says Hurley.

“Okay, we can use the games room.” Raven nods. “I’ll let Istus know.”

“She can’t come.” They say quickly.

“She’s going to notice that you’re there.” Raven says.

“Tell her it’s a secret meeting.” Killian smiles proudly.

“Great, that’s very not-even-a-little-suspicious, I’m sure she won’t have any questions.” Sloane rolls her eyes.

“I’ll figure it out.” Raven says.

–

“Oh hello dears, I like your combat trousers. Are you going out somewhere afterwards?” Istus smiles brightly as she lets Sloane and Hurley into the house, opening her arms for a hug.

Raven pops her head out of the office. “It’s okay Istus, I can get the door, I don’t want you having to get up and down.”

Istus releases the others and gives them room to take their shoes off. “It’s fine my love, don’t worry. I’m happy to help, it’s nice to see everyone!” She tugs Raven down for a kiss, just because she can. “Anyway, I’ll leave you all to it.”

She did mean to, of course, but what if they were thirsty? She knocks on the door. “Hellooooo, I made lemonade.”

There’s a quick muffled conversation and the door cracks open. “Is it the kind with the strawberries?” Carey asks through the narrow gap.

“Of course, I know how much you love it.” Istus holds up the jug so Carey can see. Carey lets out a happy little squeak and the door opens further. “Anyway, I won’t keep you.” She hands over the tray with lemonade and glasses. Heartened by the quiet ‘ooohs’ audible over the soft clinking of ice.

The door closes after a round of thanks and Istus goes to put her feet up, or, well, she intends to, but what if they want a snack to go with the lemonade? Maybe they’d like some lemon biscuits… she does have some unused fruit left over…

–

“Knock knock!” Istus says cheerfully outside the door.

“Who’s there?” Sloane asks.

“Biscuits!” Istus replies.

“Biscuits who?” Raven shouts in reply.

Istus can almost swear she hears some groans, but no one’s allowed to make them put any money in the jar when they’re in their own house. They all knew what they were getting themselves into.

“Biscan’t you open the door and get some lemon shortbread?”

The door opens and Raven plants a kiss on her head. “That was awful, I adore you.”

“I love you too dear, is that a no to biscuits?” Istus moves as if to take the tray away.

“No!” Killian barrels past Raven to grab the tray. “Thank you, we love you!”

“I love you all too. Do you need anything else?” Istus shouts into the gap in the door. “Oh… wait, I should get you some hot drinks!”

“But it’s so warm.” Carey shouts through the door.

“Oh… yes… of course.” Istus is probably overstepping.

“I do love your hot chocolate though…” Hurley adds quickly.

“With the whipped cream!” Killian adds.

“Shall I make some?” Istus is already heading for the kitchen again.

Raven rushes after her and catches her arm. “Thank you, dear heart. You look after us so well.”

Istus wraps Raven’s arms around her. “You deserve to be looked after.”

They lose a bit of time there in the hallway. It’s only after some particularly enthusiastic throat clearing that she remembers she’s on a mission.

“Sorry! I’ll make them extra good.” Istus waves over her shoulder, but doesn’t manage to sound particularly apologetic.

Raven winks at her and bumps their hips together as she turns to walk back. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

–

“We can’t keep hiding the board.” Hurley says as soon as Raven walks back into the room.

“I think the standing behind the door plan is going really well.” Sloane says from behind the board. “We didn’t know if you were coming back in together.” She adds. “Can I come back out?”

“Yes.” Carey says, head buried in her hands. “We’re not getting anywhere here.”

“We are! Look, there’s so many dooblies on the board!” Raven points enthusiastically. “Loads of revenge.”

“Yes, but we can’t talk about it properly, because… well Istus is…” Hurley grabs the board and moves back behind the door as there’s another knock.

Raven opens the door again. “Is everything okay?”

“I just wanted to check if everyone was okay with oat milk?” Istus asks. “Portia kicked the bucket over again.” Istus doesn’t begrudge Portia the kicking, it’s only ever enthusiasm.

“That sounds great.” Sloane says quickly. “Great for all of us.”

“Thank you!” Carey adds.

“Fabulous, I’ll be back soon.” Istus leaves again.

“We can’t plot like this.” Killian says. “I love Istus, you know I do, but she’s never going to approve, and she’s also never going to stop bringing snacks because she loves us and she’s perfect.”

“She is perfect.” Raven agrees.

“You’re going to have to distract her.” Sloane says.

“What?”

“Take her out on a date! A nice one!” Carey says.

“You can take her to the battle races!” Hurley suggests.

“Oh, or maybe the gym.” Killian looks pleased with herself.

“Dancing, and dinner.” Raven says firmly. “We haven’t been to Goldcliffe’s in ages”

“Isn’t it supposed to be dinner then dancing?” Sloane asks.

“That’s a recipe for acid reflux, absolutely not.” Raven shakes her head. “Plus if we’re too full of dinner it’s hard to really strut our stuff.”

The others try and fail to hide their laughter. It’s fine, they can make fun all they want, but Raven can’t even pretend to be grumpy. She’s too excited about the plan, it really has been too long since she took Istus out.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay without me?” Raven asks - as much as she’s excited to go on a date she doesn’t want to derelict her duties.

“Honestly, and I mean this with all the love in the world, you’ll only slow me down.” Sloane dives under the table. “I’m like the night. Invisible, soundless, ready to put a hole in some crucial pipe work.”

“I didn’t hear that last bit.” Hurley says flatly.

“None of us did.” Killian and Carey say in tandem. Well practised at this point.

“What?” Says Raven.

“None of us heard what Sloane said.” Hurley repeats.

“What?” Raven grins as they all groan.

“Terrible!” “Boooooooo!” “Get off the stage!”

—

“We’ve been planning, and I’d like to take you out on a date.” Raven says. Because neither of those things is a lie. It’s technically not her fault if Istus assumes the two points are related. She still feels a little guilty.

“It took all of you to plan a date?” Istus asks. She smiles, but raises a quizzical eyebrow. Raven places a quick, soft kiss on her lips, just because she can.

“I’d like to take you on a very nice date.” Raven says emphatically. She hopes that the flicker that crosses Istus’ face isn’t realisation.

Istus looks her directly in the eyes, right into her soul. She’d hate it if it was anyone else, but she knows Istus won’t be offended if she looks away. She tries not to wriggle under the scrutiny.

“You want to take me out on a very nice date.” Istus stays. “And also the others came over and you have been planning?” Shit.

“Yes.” Raven replies, because the less she says the better.

Istus pauses, mouth twitching in something suspiciously close to a smile. “That sounds delightful. What’s the plan?”

“It’s a secret.” Raven says quickly. Because it is, so secret that she doesn’t even know the plan yet. “But wear your dancing shoes.”

“And also my dancing skirt?” Istus asks.

“Definitely your dancing skirt.” Raven scoots closer to Istus on the sofa and is gratified to see Rave immediately pat her knee so Raven can flop sideways and lay her head there.

“And are we going for dinner?” Istus asks, running a comforting hand over her hair.

“Of course.” Raven rubs her face against Istus’ thigh. “Only the best for you.”

–

[Raven 08:00] Taako, I need your help. I need to take Istus on a date for subterfuge reasons and I left it too late to get reservations. [Raven 08:01] Taako? I know you love subterfuge. Please reply. [Raven 08:15] Can you please help me? I waited to text so you could have a lie in.

[Kravitz 08:15] Dear Mum, Please stop texting Taako so much, he’s asleep. I can see your name flashing up on his phone. He will definitely get back to you once he is awake, but remember that this is early for a lot of people. I love you, Kravitz.

[Raven 08:15] It’s basically noon! [08:15] Also I love you too.

[Kravitz 08:16] Dear Mum, It isn’t and you know that. Can I help? Love Kravitz.

[Raven 08:17] I need to get reservations for somewhere nice to take Istus tonight and I’m worried about disappointing her. Can you tell Taako I’m sorry? I don’t want to text again.

Raven paces while she waits for Kravitz’s reply. She probably shouldn’t pester… although maybe she could send one more quick message.

Her phone buzzes in her hand.

[Kravitz 08:28] Dear Mum, I asked Susan and she got you a table at The Spinnaker at 18:00. I think you’ll like it there! Have a wonderful time, Love Kravitz.

[Raven 08:28] You always were my favourite son.

[Kravitz 08:29] Dear Mum, I am your only son! Unless you’re talking about Taako? In which case I won’t tell him, don’t worry. Love Kravitz.

[Raven 08:30] You’d be my favourite regardless. I’ll ring you for our phone call at 9:30 Love you

[Kravitz 08:31] Dear Mum, I love you too, speak soon. Love Kravitz.

Raven shakes her head slightly as she puts her mobile down. She truly appreciates how lucky she got with Kravitz, he was diligent and caring and she wishes the pair of them would move closer. She understands, of course, orchestras don’t tend to be based in the sticks, but maybe one day they’ll come back.

[Raven 11:45] Sorry for all of the texts Taako. Kravitz has reminded me about time. Please ignore my other messages, Raven

–

“Dear Istus,

Tonight’s the night, We’re going out, My date’s the most beautiful, Without a doubt. I’ll pick you up, At 5pm on the dot, Then we’ll eat And dance a lot.

Love you, rainbow!

Yours always, Raven”

Istus reads the card again, closes her eyes to savour the warm feeling before she adds it to her memory box. She has an outfit to plan.

–

“Well, who could this be?” Istus shouts through the door as she unlocks it.

“It’s a secret.” Raven shouts back.

Istus swings the door wide to find Raven, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit jacket and long skirt, holding a massive bunch of flowers.

“For me?”

“For you - although they’re nowhere near as beautiful as you are!” Raven hands over the flowers and fans herself. “I’m all overcome, just look how gorgeous you are!”

Istus does a spin so she can bask in the attention a little, but can’t resist bobbing forward onto the step to cup Raven’s cheek with her hand and kiss her gorgeous face. She works her way slowly along her cheek bone, punctuating each kiss with a compliment. “You look wonderful, my love.” She says, before finally catching Raven’s mouth with hers. It’s rare she gets to be tall enough to kiss her easily, clearly she should meet Raven at the door more often.

“Hi Istus!” Sloane, Killian, Carey, and Hurley wave awkwardly as she finally surfaces.

“Oh! Are you all coming too?” They don’t look like they’re dressed for dancing and dinner, but then she never can keep up with the trends.

“No no, we’re just…” Hurley starts then awkwardly pauses.

“...coming to get the things from our meeting the other night.” Sloane says quickly. Smiling as if she doesn’t have a balaclava in her hand. It’s not that chilly.

“Mmmhmm, and shall I bring that out for you? Just to save you having to come in?” Istus asks sweetly. She tries not to laugh as they baulk at the thought.

“We have our reservations to make, we’d better head off.” Says Raven as if she didn’t already factor in at least 30 minutes of lateness time just in case. “They’re okay to lock up, aren’t you?” Raven turns to look at them all. Istus can’t see her face, but they all look slightly shame faced.

“Yes, we can lock up so well.” Says Killian.

“So well.” Carey echoes.

Raven gives her a half smile, full of apology, and Istus decides that whatever they’re up to they can do it. She’s busy.

“Okay, well, I demand a hug from anyone willing to give one before we go.” Istus opens her arms and laughs hard as Raven is the first one into them. After a loud kiss on the cheek Raven releases her.

“Sorry everyone, your turn.”

Istus doesn’t think anyone notices, but she has a very good idea where they’re going, and Sloane’s sense of justice is sometimes just a little unbalanced… She’ll give it back later.

“Have a wonderful evening everyone.” Istus waves as Raven takes her arm to lead her towards the car - ever a gentleman.

“Enjoy!” “Have a great time!” “Woo yeah! Romance” “Don’t embarrass us!”

–

“Sorry that we couldn’t do dancing first.” Raven says, taking an ill advised spoon of the cheesecake they decided to split because it sounded too nice (despite already being full of delicious food).

“That’s okay, my love! I think I’ve still got a few hours in me yet, I might even feel up to a spin by the end of the night.”

“Just a spin?” Raven asks, nudging the cheesecake towards Istus to ensure she gets her fair share.

“I wouldn’t want to presume…” Istus says coyly, and bats her eyelashes at Raven.

“You’re wearing your scooping skirt.” Raven says sagely, then hooks her foot around Istus’ so she knows it’s only a joke.

“Oh… would you look at that?” Istus stares, flabbergasted, at her own lap. “How did that happen?”

“It’s a mystery.” Raven says sagely. She can definitely scoop Istus, she got her out of the sofa last week! She deserves it, in fact.

–

The first notes float to them and Istus turns to Raven. “You requested our song?” Her face is soft and beautiful in the low light.

“It’s pretty good, you see, I quite like it. Will you do me the honour?” Raven stands and offers her hand.

“Well, if you insist.” Istus swishes into her arms. “It’d be rude not to.” She winks and Raven isn’t even surprised by the butterflies anymore. She’s long given up thinking it’ll wear off.

Sometimes Raven wonders exactly what the step was that set her on the path to Istus. One decision, one choice, and it led her here. Whatever it was, she is eternally grateful, although Istus always says that no matter what they’d have found their way to each other. As Istus spins away and Raven tugs her back into her arms, grey hair shining gloriously, she’d like to believe it. She could imagine life without Istus if she tried to, but why would she? She has everything she needs right here. They twist and spin slowly, ebbing and flowing together like the tide, until Raven spots her moment, scooping Istus into her arms, skirt flowing dramatically as Raven spins them. Istus’ laugh makes the twinge in her hip worth it.

Istus kisses Raven through the dismount, returning to the ground without breaking contact. “I love you.” She whispers against her lips.

“I love you too.” Raven leans their foreheads together, gathers Istus as close as she can, and they stay there, swaying gently to the music until Istus’ grumbling feet persuade them back to their chairs.

“Take me home?” Istus asks, batting her eyelashes.

“Well, I’m not usually this forward, but I would be a fool not to bring the hottest woman in here home with me.” Raven stands, trying not to wince at the way her knee twinges when she does, and offers Istus her arm.

“You won’t regret it.” Istus winks.

–

“Yes, there, right there!” Raven moans softly with relief as Istus’ hands work across her skin.

“Better?”

“Definitely. I swear that stuff’s magic with how quickly it works.” The pain in Raven’s hip is already fading as the Icy Hot settles.

“Do you want me to do anywhere else?” Istus asks, still holding the tube.

“I can definitely think of some places I’d like your hands… but you need to wash them first.” Raven winks and tries not to grimace at the memory.

“I don’t think we’ll ever repeat that mistake again. I’ll be back soon.” Istus holds her hand out to the side so it’s as far away from Raven as possible and swoops down to catch her lips in a kiss.

-

I hope you're enjoying! You can find the next installment here.

[sanityshorror]

Hi there! Can I ask you some headcanons of Killian?🤭

Hello:> as Killian Lynch is a character I created, I don't have HCS for him, just canon and some AUs. However, I can happily provide some canonical fun facts!!

Killian actually had numerous tattoos and scars, however I haven't drawn him with them..I promise that will change in the next illustration xD

One of Killian's favorite hobbies is horse riding. Born in 1872, the first car had yet to be invented. Naturally, he learned to horse ride from practicality. He genuinely enjoys it though. He has two horses in canon, they froze in time with him and Julius, and riside in a small stable that connects to the back of the dress shop/hell pocket dimension.

Killian drives a Black Dodge Charger with blacked out windows. He named his car "Betty"

Speaking of names, Killian names EVERYTHING. Killian's way of talking can be very chaotic to begin with, and the fact he uses the names for inanimate objects causes even more chaos.

And on the topic of how he speaks, Killian swears A LOT. Have a sketch of human Killian to emphasize this - if he's at a loss of words, then you get:

Since we're already talking speech, Killian actually is fully fluent in three languages. He can speak Gaelic (his native language), English, and Latin

Killian has an obsession with Caesar and ancient Rome

Killian has an extreme God Complex

"rules for thee but not for me" very much applies to Killian (extreme hypocrisy)

Killian is actually a Catholic, it's his genuine religious faith. However, he's very hypocritical so, see above. Ironically, Julius was and is an actual Satanist, Julius turned to satanism feeling God had betrayed him. Now that he's a demon, he is a satanist in the literal extent. Personally, I think it's kind of very sweet that Killian, a Catholic, and Julius, a satanist - fell in love and are life partners.

For those new tho might be confused by the previous: Killian is pansexual and canonically in a romantic relationship with Julius.

Killian chain smokes constantly

Mob boss. He's a mob boss.

The ONLY thing Killian draws the line at doing, is harming children. He's not around them much, but if he is, he's actually quite protective of them.

This is mainly due to the atrocities Killian experienced as the hands of his mother and/or actions since the moment he was born.

↑ is the true root of Killian's misogyny. It's not excusable but if you know the extent of what was done to him (and you will soon), it's very understandable.

Killian loves being the villain, he basks in it.

I could go on about him for DAYS but I'll let it there for now...I need to get back to writing these stories about him ;3

[the-darkdragonfly]

WIP Word Tag Game

tagged by: @hollyethecurious (Thank you, lovie!)

rules: find your given words in your WIPs and post a snippet containing the words, then tag others with their own sets of words :)

my words: Water (LMAO), hand(s), and glance

Hello darling! Thank you for the tag. These are three of my favorite words!

Water

Tempest, Chapter 9

They sat facing each other a long while, parchment between them, until Emma shivered from the chill of the dying fire, the water from the bath, long cold, cast glittering shadows on the ceiling as the flicker of the candles she had lit hours before burned low in their tapers. Killian had stood, chest bare with his wrist still free of the brace which he’d worn for centuries, and carefully pulled the sheet tighter around her shoulders- I’ll be right back, love- leaving the door standing ajar as he called down the stairs for more firewood, his hair a wreck from the hand that had been running through the strands all evening since she’d told him the once veiled truth of who she really was.

A Trick of the Light, Chapter 11

“Do you think my dad knows we’re gone, and that he needs to feed the chickens and Saoirse?” 

“Aye, but I fear he might not survive the experience.”

“He fought a dragon.” Emma quipped, raising her nose slightly in the air, as if navigating her beast of a horse was the same as simply conquering a dragon. 

“But he’s never faced an irritable, Emma-less Saoirse,” Killian yawned, stretching carefully to not dislodge the slumbering child on his chest, Liam’s cheek resting on the carefully folded shirt Emma had given him before heading quietly to the bath, the milk-scented cloth lulling their son into the same quiet sleep that had worked for their daughter only a few years earlier. 

She hummed, a miffed sort of sound, and continued to press the water from her hair while it hung like liquid gold in the candlelight.

“I cannot wait for tomorrow night; I won't take my pillow for granted ever again.” 

Killian chuckled- I’ve slept on worse, but I have also slept on better- eyes closing briefly  before glancing down at the sleeping baby- I should put him to bed.

“You said that half an hour ago.” 

“I know I did.” 

He made no effort to move, Liam’s small hands curled through the hair on his chest, a painful familiar feeling he had relished for the first time again when Liam had rested against his heart in the quiet of the night as a newborn, Emma mercifully asleep beside them in the moonlight.

Blacksmith WIP

OMG I DON'T HAVE 'WATER' IN THIS WHOLE WIP????

WHO EVEN AM I????

*starts writing furiously*

Hand(s)

Tempest, Chapter 9

“Because I lied to you” 

“You didn’t lie to me, love.” 

“I didn’t tell you the truth, that’s the same thing really, isn’t it?” 

“Aye, well, what was it you were supposed to say, Emma? Revealing yourself would have been foolish and you know that; out of the clutches of one pirate into another.” 

“I do not and have never considered myself to be ‘in your clutches’, Killian,” she huffed, gracing him with a stern look before continuing.” But you are right, I was afraid.” 

He nodded, hand covering the scars on his wrist, a vulnerability he hadn’t allowed before. 

“I was afraid of you at first, worried about what would become of me if you knew,” she continued and his heart clenched painfully, “but,” she reached out slowly, resting tentative fingers on top of his own, waiting for his gaze to meet hers. “Then I was afraid you would send me away. Send me back.” 

A Trick of the Light, Chapter 11

“No one knows where Arthur is.” 

“Correct.” 

“No one knows what happened to Merlin.” 

“Correct.” 

“No one has seen or heard from Lancelot in ‘they can’t remember how long’.” 

“Correct again, love.” 

A small hand appeared beside Killian’s elbow and he leaned down to nip gentle at the wiggling fingers, the hand disappeared at the same time as Hope’s manic giggling broke the comfortable quiet from beneath the wooden frame before her small hand reappeared, trying again. Killian smiled and pressed a slice of apple into her waiting palm- what do we say, lovie?- and her voice floated up to them amid the crunching of her treat- t’anks, daddy. 

Emma grinned wickedly at him for a moment and he narrowed his eyes at her- no, Swan, don’t- before she flicked her hair, correcting him as she usually did- Jones- and tucking the inevitable daddy comment away for future yielding. 

Blacksmith WIP

But the tale was just that, a dreary bedtime story told to children on cold evenings in hope of imparting an appreciation for their family. It was a tale beloved by orphaned girls, thinking they might be the lost princess, and perhaps their fate could be changed in some way. 

But while curses indeed existed, there was no witch powerful enough in any realm who could cast a curse so dark and powerful as to remove the memories from an entire kingdom.

It was just that; a fairytale. 

Alice would not be convinced, however, and for the past fortnight she had been coming home from the small street of shops north of the docks- did you remember bread today, Starfish?- spinning tales of a woman who was the lost princess, with golden hair and sea glass eyes- you are quite the poet, Lovie- and how he needed to rescue her. 

She’d watch him with large hopeful eyes, and he’d kiss her forehead and tell her that while it was a lovely thought, a blacksmith had no business running around rescuing princesses. And she would be quiet for a while, fingernails scratching lightly on the hand planed surface of their table- you rescued me, Papa- she had whispered and tore his heart from his chest with the conviction in her voice. 

Glance {I had to use 'glanced'}

Tempest, Chapter 9

“Did he hurt you?” 

She shook her head, hand rising to cover the now unmarked skin the careless blackheart had likely bruised as he pushed her towards the monster curled in the depths of her castle. 

“He said I had magic. That the creature with the claws and the gold skin was his father and only my magic could save him. Free him.” 

The nausea grew and expanded as if it were talons clutching at his heart. 

“What was his name, love?” Hot fury curled into the pit of Killian’s stomach. 

She glanced up, confused for a moment- the young man, what did his father call him?- watching the need for vengeance sweep across his dark features.  

“Baelfire.” 

A Trick of the Light, Chapter 11

“How will they get home?” 

“There are beans,” he let her go for a moment to dig through the pocket on his great coat, holding a translucent bean between his fingers, “not many, mind, but enough to get Fiona and Alec home again.”  

Emma nodded, eyes locked on the small object between his fingers, remembering another time when he held such an item out in front of her, the bars of the cell beneath the ghost of a castle cold against her palms as she begged him not to go. Not leave them; leave her. She’d opened her mouth, fingers reaching towards the bean as he let it fall into his palm, but he’d turned from her then, tears in her eyes. But the memory disappeared as quickly as it had come, the bean he tipped into her palm warm from his body and she glanced up to him as he stilled beside her before continuing to speak, his face solemn and careful. 

He’d promised he would try.  

“And,” Killian took a breath, “Henry.” 

Blacksmith WIP

He closed the door to keep the room as warm as possible, it would be winter soon and his supply of firewood would need to be replenished. He’d been terrified beyond measure that they would freeze to death that first winter at the cottage, the fireplace in his room always stoked to keep away the chill, Alice’s small bassinet pulled as close as he dared to the hearth in order to keep her as warm as possible.

He’d slept with her on his chest for the first few weeks away from their prison, until a shopkeeper had gasped dramatically and told him of the dangers of co-sleeping. And while he didn’t think he would roll over and hurt his child, it terrified him enough to place her in her own bed from then on. 

Killian placed the lantern on the small table near the fireplace, crouching to place another handful of split logs onto the flames, before rising to glance out the window at the rain running like rivers down the glass. He’d chosen this cottage for several reasons, but the view of the sea, which capped waves crashing against the rocky shore in the distance, is what had made it feel like home. 

♥️♥️♥️♥️

That was fun! Now I need to get to work!

Tagging @sailtoafarawayland, @veryverynotgoodwrites (since I haven't spoken to you ladies in FOREVER!), and @donteattheappleshook (hehehe) with Night, Breath(e) and Watch

[aprilqueen84]

All’s Fair In Love And Magic Prologue (Repost)

A/N: Hello! Here is the the prologue of my CS Supernatural story that I first posted back in October of 2021! OOF! I am reposting the chapters I have now in preparation for the next chapter. (which is already about 80% done) As always if you would like to be tagged, taken off the tag list or have changed your user name please let me know!

Tag List:  @resident-of-storybrooke, @kmomof4, @jennjenn615, @pirateherokillian, @piinfeathers @enchanted-swans, @superchocovian, @deathbycaptainswan, @winterbaby89, @kingofmyheart14, @a-faekindagirl, @kymbersmith-90, @ekr032-blog-blog, @laschatzi, @teamhook, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @capswantrue, @bmbbcs4evr, @kday426, @tiganasummertree, @Ifh1226-linda, @meganhinsley, @xarandomdreamx, @jrob64, @hannahhook7744, @klynn-stormz, @yourebeautifuleverylilpiecelove, @therooksshiningknight, @earanemith, @snowbellewells, @motherkatereloyshipper​, @emmythedaydreamer, @quirkykayleetam, @onceuponsomechaos, @goforlaunchcee , @hollyethecurious

Summary:  When a horrible crime is committed and the evidence points to someone in Emma’s coven, Killian is sent to investigate. The two are instantly at odds, but when it looks like he was right, Emma suddenly finds herself and her young son in danger,  she knows that there is only person she can go to for help. As the two work together to prevent war from breaking out in the supernatural world, they find themselves growing closer but evil lurks beyond every corner.

Prologue:

The only sound that could be heard through the darkness was the crunching of leaves as a  cloaked figure hurried through the woods. They stopped to lean against a nearby tree to catch their breath, knowing that they had to keep going because their destination was close and then they’d be safe. A sudden gust of wind blew through the trees making them tighten the hood of their cloak as they continued forward. 

When they reached a clearing, there stood before them an old abandoned building. “Thank the gods,” they said with a sigh of relief, and quickly ran up the stairs, stopping in front of a huge metal door. Bringing up their hand, they proceeded to knock a sequence on the door.

Stepping back they watched as symbols started to appear on the door as it began to glow. Suddenly, the door slowly opened to reveal a tall horned creature standing in the doorway. It looked down and contemplated them for a few seconds before moving aside to let them through the door. When they made it safely inside they looked around the room at all the various creatures that were there. Vampires, fairies, witches, and other supernatural beings who, under normal circumstances, would be enemies, but here in this safe haven they were all the same. Refugees. 

Many were here because of different reasons, either by being exiled or abandoning their clans, but all were seeking protection, for that's what this place was… a sanctuary. A place where while within these walls nothing could harm any of them. The cloaked figure walked over to the window and peered into the darkness, looking for any sign that they had been followed. It hadn’t been easy, the decision to flee their clan, but they had to, it was a matter of life or death. 

All of a sudden, they tensed. They could have sworn that they had seen movement through the treeline. It had only been for a split second, but when they did a double take it was gone. Shaking their head they stepped away from the window and went to sit in one of the empty chairs that was in the corner of the room. They were on edge, that was all, and it was causing them to jump at shadows. All they had to do was make it to the local Guard's community, then they'd truly be safe.

Settling back in the chair they began to feel the events of the night catch up with them. They fought to stay awake but could feel their eyes start to grow heavier and heavier and a second later they were asleep. They awoke to someone shaking them by the shoulders. Their eyes sprang open and they looked up to find a dark haired fairy standing over them.

"Hey. You okay?” The fairy asked. "You sounded like you were having a nightmare." 

Disoriented they sat up slowly, trying to get their bearings. Looking around they see that quite a few pairs of eyes were on them. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother anyone,” they said, standing up.

“That’s okay!” The fairy said. “It must have been some dream with the way you were calling out.”

They tried to recall what had happened in their dream but couldn’t really remember anything other than a feeling of dread. Before they could respond, they heard screaming coming from the other side of the room. They rushed over to the window where the commotion was coming from and what they saw froze them to the core.. Flames were climbing up the side of the building and smoke was starting to seep through the walls. This shouldn’t be happening, they thought, nothing is supposed to be able to penetrate these walls.

They looked around at the chaos that was unfolding. Everyone was running towards the entrance where the horned doorman was frantically trying to open the door, with no success, while others tried breaking the windows to no avail. Suddenly a terrible feeling washed through them as they turned back toward the window. They raised their hands up to the glass and closed their eyes in concentration. A few seconds later they let out a horrified gasp and their eyes sprang open. Dark magic. They could feel it’s inky blackness cocooning itself around the building. 

At that moment they knew they were all trapped  and that nobody would be getting out of here alive. As the smoke began to thicken and the fire started growing larger, movement from outside caught their attention. They peered through the window and saw a figure standing on the edge of the clearing. Their blood ran cold, they thought that they'd been careful and that nobody had followed them but they were wrong and now because of them, everyone was doomed. The noise around them had grown silent, no screaming or struggling could be heard and when they glanced behind them, they saw bodies littering the floor through the smoke. 

Turning back to the window they saw the figure hold an object up and speak into it. Immense pain went through them, like their insides were being crushed, like someone had a vice grip around their heart. As their hands went to grasp at their chest, their eyes flew up to meet the figures. All they saw before they collapsed onto the floor and their life left them, was a wicked, evil smile.