#it’s not my moms fault and deep down I know it isn’t my granny’s fault either

[how-gross]

7:44pm — February 2, 2024

I try and explain to you that it’s slippery by the tub because something’s wrong with the toilet where the water leaks out of the toilet and ONTO THE FLOOR WHERE ANYONE COULD SLIP, and to just let me know when you’re GETTING OUT OF THE TUB so I can help you…

And literally the only thing you take out of that is, “I’m not no baby I can get out myself” and “I know you’re not gonna put your hands on me”…

ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!

Mom already told you to stop saying people who love you are gonna hurt you. I HAVE NEVER PUT MY HANDS ON YOU EVER IN YOUR LIFE SO TO HEAR YOU, MY OWN GRANDMOTHER SAY THAT TO ME, FUCKING HURTS.

Fuck you. I can’t wait to get out of this fucking house.

[nightshadedawn]

Writing prompts!!

Select one of the prompts and a ship and I'll write 300 words for it! I'll keep this open for a week!

Prompts are broken up into categories and further numbered within those categories to help everyone quickly find prompts, so please either give me the category and number of prompt or the prompt itself.

Fuck

"Fuck you." "You know what, [name], I've been trying but you haven't been cooperating." "What."

"I don't hate you." "You bought an entire fucking island to avoid me so we wouldn't be roommates our second year of college." "It obviously didn't work out well because we still ended up in Art History together."

"I'm fucked, I'm screwed. I'm gonna faaaaiillll."

"Well, fuck me and leave me to bleed."

"You're crazy." "Yeah, I'm fucking insane!"

"I have fucking questions!"

"You sir- are fucking hilarious."

"I love you but you're a fucking idiot."

"Love- fuck off."

"I'm cute as all fuck, but I'm an asshole if you piss me off."

"Insomnia's a real fucker, you know?"

"Fuck it- just- breathe! Breathe, damnit!"

"You and your bisexual ass can get the fuck out of here."

"Let's fuck the world over, 'cause that's all we're good for."

"Fuck it. We're not done yet."

"Occasionally I tell people to go fuck themselves just to mess with their puny lives."

"I didn't want anyone else. Fuck it, I just wanted YOU."

"You're a fucking bisexual disaster. Don't at me, brah."

"I'm just a sad, mostly human being that doesn't know what they're doing with their life." "Only mostly?" "Granny honestly got it on so who knows what the fuck Mom is."

"I don't mind if you call me a freak, just don't say it to my face. That's really rather rude." "You're a fucking idiot." "Yes, I've been told."

"I'm DONE! I'm done acting happy, I'm done pretending to be okay, I'm DONE playing this game. I am so. Fucking. DONE. With shits like you! Don't ever come near me again."

"The only reason I kept fighting was because of the people I cared about! And you took them all away from me! I'm not done fighting yet! I'm not done fucking fighting until your body is rotting in the fucking ground!"

"Giving a fuck what other people think about you is like giving them control of your life."

"Please don't pretend to give a fuck about me. I know better now."

"They said I can't." "Well, fuck 'em." "What?" "You're not weak. It's your life. Fuck 'em. Do what you want."

"I trust you about as far as I can throw you. Which is to say I don't. I can't. I'm weak as all fuck."

"I'm as cute as a cucumber. Wait, fuck, that's a kiwi."

Shit

"When you're a sarcastic piece of shit but people keep falling in love with you anyway."

"My sister is a huge piece of shit." "Awe, that's not nice. What'd the shit ever do to you?"

"Shit aside, this isn't the worst plan put into motion."

"Literally no one cares about that shit."

"I'm not a bitch, I'm an asshole. Guys still want to screw me even if all I spew is shit."

"Congratulations! You're in deep shit."

"You've shown great aptitude for bullshitting."

"Shit... I don't... I don't know why I'm crying... Just please don't leave me alone..." "Never."

"I'm one of those people that people regularly tell me not to do stupid shit and I do it anyway."

"I've lived my life watching through windows. I'm ready to go break shit now."

"I promise, I'm okay."

"You expect me to believe that bullshit!?"

"I'm just getting a little tired of having to deal with this shit!"

"Hey, I'm kinda feeling like shit tonight. You think you could... come cuddle me?"

"I don't see myself as someone who breaks promises, spills secrets, or tells lies. I'm not a great person like that statement would suggest. I just don't talk to people enough, and when I do, I don't give enough of a shit to care."

Asshole

"'Cause sometimes, people are just assholes no one else cares about."

"It was an accident! I didn't mean to-" "Now why don't I believe you?" "Because I'm an arrogant prick and an asshole." "At least you're aware of your short comings."

"No, I'm not getting high off lemonade. What are you drinking, bitch?"

"If you're not sucking cock for the fun of it, I don't know what you're doing with your life."

"Ten out of ten. Would bang again." "Please stop." "Love you, babe."

Forget

"I haven't quite forgiven you for that." "No, I don't expect you did."

"The most unforgettable stories are also the most unbelievable, don't you know?"

"I don't need you to hold me like it's okay to forget. I need you to hold me like it's okay to remember, to hold on, and then to let go."

"Sometimes people forget... I'm not normal."

"The world is a wonderful, beautiful, amazing place. That's why it doesn't matter if in thirty years, no one remembers us."

"I want you to remember what it felt like to fight against me."

"Do you remember what it was like when we were young and alright?"

"Do you remember what I promised? That we'd always be together. I don't break promises. Not to anyone, but never to you. As long as you'll have me, I'll be right here. So please, let me stay."

"I want you to remember this feeling; it will follow you all your life."

"Why don't you remember ANYTHING I said!?"

Pain

"Don't you ever wish we could ever be something different? Like, I don't know. Something less hellish?" "I don't know. Sometimes I welcome the pain."

"I just get so restless, and I can't stop moving, and when I have to sit down and focus... it's really hard because I just want to be up. It's genuinely painful when it strikes in the middle of class or something."

"Pain is what made me human."

"You don't understand all the pain we went through to get where we are now."

"I will break, I will burn, but I will not let you hurt me."

"Listen to me and this broken heart of mine."

"It's not your fault you've been hurt before."

"I don't enjoy hurting people." "Could'a fooled me."

"Does it hurt?" "Always."

“It’s not me you have to worry about killing you if you hurt our daughter, it’s my wife.” “Oh, honey, you know me so well.”

"I knew from the beginning I'd never be able to hurt you."

"I shouldn't care. Caring only hurts."

"Sometimes when people get hurt, they shut themselves away. They push away people and the things that hurt them. But I think it's more interesting when they fight back. Revenge is a bitter tale, but it's a more interesting story told."

"I don't want to fall in love. Falling means you get hurt. I want to grow. I want to grow to love someone, see them at their smallest and grow into their mightiest. I want to grow to love, because when something grows, it never stops growing."

"My head feels heavy and my heart just hurts."

"Don't stress the small stuff. It only makes your brain hurt."

"In the end, we were made of blood that could be spilt and bones that could be broken."

"'Broken,' he'd promised. And 'broken' he'd become."

Death

"I have been scared of many things. Surprisingly, my death has never been one of them."

"They're both very strong willed, bull headed, "death to all those who defy me" kind of people."

"Even the bravest close their eyes when facing Death."

"Death seems like the best option right now." "No. No, it does not."

"Touch my phone and you accept Death as your new best friend."

"You tend to just find death everywhere you go. Isn't that a problem?"

"Death is not a good look on you, honey."

"I've got about a hundred years worth of death on my hands and isn't that great?"

"Death comes to all those who wait for it."

"Murder, death, and mayhem are my favorite things to write about."

"You are an angel of death by association. This is your duty."

"I hope you've got some kind of special armor under that dress, 'cause with the way you're surrounded, if you don't, you're gonna die."

"We're gonna die." "That's the plan."

"How many times must she die before you're satisfied?!"

"This time, I'm not letting you die for me."

"Someone's gonna die tonight, but it ain't gonna be me."

"Fine. I'll let you die. I'll just have to bring you back to life."

"But why'd you have to die?"

"If I die, it's officially Your Fault."

"Welp. time to die again,"

"No! No! You don't get to die! You don't get to die and leave me alone!"

"Don't ask me that! Don't do that!" "Why?" "Because everyone knows that when you talk about the future right before a big battle, you're gonna die!"

"When it comes down to it, I want you to make sure I die."

"How did you save them?" "Easy- I died."

"I would live and die for you, but I'd never kill."

"We are not gods. But I shall die like one anyway."

"There was a time when I swear I was just waiting to die."

"I'd rather destroy myself than let her die for me."

"The truth is- I'm just tired of watching you die."

"I've died so many times, and I'm still falling for you."

"I am so done with children." "You have nine." "And I would die for each and every one of them."

"It's a miracle in itself that you haven't died yet."

"The explosion killed thousands. How are you alive?"

"You bother me." "I can't imagine why." "Surely it has nothing to do with the fact you've killed hundreds of people including my family. That couldn't possibly be it."

"I trust you, but the question is, do you trust me?" "I trust you not to get yourself killed." "I think you might be asking a little too much."

"How are you going to tell your sister you killed her best friend?" "I'm not." "That's no way to start a relationship."

"You are legit trying to kill me." "Oh darling, if I really wanted to kill you, I wouldn't be trying. You'd be dead already."

"I'm pretty sure I killed someone. But then again, I could be wrong."

"I'm going to kill someone." "Oh dear god, please be me."

"Ohhhhh, my sister's gonna kill me for this one."

"One time my sister tried to tell me I wasn't right. Valid, I wasn't. But I still tried to kill her anyway."

"Do what you will. But don't come crying to me if it kills you."

"Oh god, just kill me now." "As you wish."

"The next time somebody tries to kill, me, I'm gonna scream." "I should hope so?"

"This child threatened to kill me." "She threatened to burn the entire city to the ground. I don't see what your point is."

"We are all dead and it’s your fault!"

"Oh look. The sun is shining, nobody is dead- today's gonna be a good day."

"I swore I wouldn't do it again. But here I am. Wishing all of them dead."

"I guess being dead wasn't good enough for you. You wanted to erase me from history too."

"Who even knows if we'll be alive tomorrow?"

"What story did they tell you?" "That'd I'd never make it out alive."

"And if I refuse?" "Well, *chuckle* don't suppose you'll get out of this alive."

"You just need to survive."

"The world is a cruel, unfair place. But it's the one we live in, so we gotta do what we can to survive."

"You've done your best to destroy me, but I survived all along."

"I survive because there is nothing else I could do."

"The world didn't want me. But I survived anyway."

"I think I'm more surprised that you're telling me this than the fact that you survived it."

"We exist in this time and place. This isn't the end."

"You hide it in the corners of your mind like it doesn't exist."

"Once upon a time, there was a girl. A regular, ordinary type of girl. The kind of girl... that no longer exists."

"In any other world, we would not exist."

"Hell exists in ways you don't expect it to."

"I exist in your eyes, but not in your life."

"You weren't supposed to exist."

"I suppose that magic exists. In some way or another."

"Time is inconsequential. Unreal. It doesn't exist. All that exists is the here and now."

"The world only exists the way we want it to."

"The world need not know you exist. More importantly, the world need not know you exist as you do."

"Who's dying this time?"

"I've existed long enough to know this is a very bad idea."

"We only sort of exis

"There's something beautiful in the way you look at the world like nothing else exists."

"We exist to be tempered into impossible weapons."

"I am aware of worlds and things that should not exist."

"The difference you have to learn about the past and future is that the future gives us a reason to keep living... the past only exists to hold us back."

"You are the bane of my existence." "I'm the bane of existence in general."

"How many times have I thought about dying? Too many."

My entire life you've made me cry. All you're doing now is making me cry again.

"My room's a mess. Kinda like my life. But nobody's complaining about that."

"My life was wonderful. But it was better without you in it."

When life gives ya lemons, we find someone who has vodka and makes martinis.

"She's living her life in monochrome."

"There are some things in life that just get you down. And then there's her."

"I've been wrong all my life. This is just another instance, isn't it?

"Home is not a place. It's a feeling. Feeling of contentment, life, respect, safety. That is home."

"I live off of two things: spite and validation. I live to spite those who say I can't, but I need validation from those who say I can."

"Please don't live for tomorrow. Live for today."

"My favorite kind of people are the ones who live for themselves, and not for anyone else."

I knew we'd live forever.

"There's not enough time on Earth to see everything. We could go back a billion years and live every moment up to now, and even then we wouldn't see everything." "Nah. But with you, I'd like to try. I feel like I could do anything with you by my side."

[elizabeethan]

Forget What I Said (It’s Not What I Meant) 3/3

His laugh is self deprecating. It’s almost hateful as he shakes his head and turns away from her. “I want you, love, more than anything. But I don’t want to be your secret. I’m not willing to sit around and wait for you to come to your senses. If you don’t have feelings for me as I do you, then I think you should go.”

“Hook,” she tries again uselessly.

“Please,” he begs, refusing to look her way for the first time. “I’ve known enough heartbreak in my life. I’ve learned to prevent it where I can.”

Hey! It’s @donteattheappleshook‘s birthday so I decided to post the last part of this story :) Also, we’re aware that we’re basically writing the same fic. That’s how this all started. so enjoy a double dose of Neverland nonsense. Originally posted for @neverlandnewyear

Thank you to @the-darkdragonfly for being a kick ass beta and even better friend!

rated E for smut and language

~7400 words

Part 1, Part 2

Read on Ao3

Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschazi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18​ @xhookswenchx​ @winterbaby89​ @swampmedusa​ @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells​ @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook

She’s fine. Everything is totally and completely fine. Nothing is bothering her. 

 That’s what she tells herself when she sees Hook and Tink walk into Granny’s a week after his hardcore rejection of her. She nearly chews a hole through her straw. 

 “Mom,” Henry says, probably not for the first time, as he waves at her to get her attention. “Mom, I have to go to school.” 

 “Right, right, I know,” she responds, wiping her mouth with her napkin and scooting to the edge of the bench. 

 “You don’t have to walk me, you know.” 

 “I want to,” she says with a smile. She does want to, any chance she gets to spend time with her son is a gift. Any chance she gets to spend time away from Hook is also a gift. She walks to the register and notes Ruby’s gaze, deep and adoring as she stares in Hook’s direction. Of course. 

“Sorry,” she says once her attention is brought back. “Checking out?”

 “Yeah,” Emma grumbles, taking out her wallet and handing some cash to Ruby. 

 She sighs longingly as she counts the cash, hardly looking down, then says, “you guys were in Neverland together, huh?” 

 Emma rolls her eyes and takes her change, unable to answer before Henry calls for her from the door. She exits the diner, and it takes way too much effort to not look back at Hook as she does so. 

 By the time she gets to the station, her mood is less than sunny, but that doesn't stop her father from shouting, “good morning, sunshine!” as she walks in. 

 Mumbling a greeting in his direction, she sits at her desk and tries to ignore the anger bubbling up inside her. How could he move on that quickly? How could he tell her that he has feelings for her and then start hanging around with her? He knows she has walls, she just didn’t expect him to give up scaling them so quickly. She thought she meant more to him than that. 

 She isn’t sure why meaning more to him than that is so important to her.

 Sadness, she thinks. What she’s feeling isn’t anger, it’s sadness. She’s sad that she lost him. Sure, she’s mad at him for rejecting her, but she has to assume that the constant desire to break down and cry is more due to her sadness at their… well, it isn’t a breakup. 

 “Hon,” she hears from the office door, jumping back into reality with a start. “You got a minute?”

 “Sure,” she sighs, sitting back in her chair as David walks in and makes himself at home. 

 With a soft smile, he sits in the chair across from her and folds his hands over her crossed knees. “So,” he starts. “What’s up?” 

 She lets out a suspicious laugh, giving him a look of incredulity. “Not much, you?”

 David smiles again and shakes his head. “I mean what’s going on? What’s up with you lately?” 

 “Ah,” she laughs. “Just jumping right into it, are we?” 

 “More my style,” he explains, and she laughs again. “Emma, something’s clearly on your mind, and I think I know what it is.” 

 She looks up at him through her lashes shyly and shrugs. “I guess.” 

 “You’ve got a lot of pressure on you right now. And I’m sure a lot of people want you to make… difficult decisions.” 

 “It shouldn’t be this difficult,” she says without thinking much. But her father’s right. She is getting pressured from almost everyone she knows. She wants nothing more than to make Henry happy, but if it’s at the expense of her own happiness, is it worth it? Does thinking that way make her a bad mom? Is choosing her own happiness worth the backlash she’s sure to get? When did Hook become her happiness? “If you thought you were coming in here to tell me to be with Neal, don’t even bother.” 

 “Oh, I’m not here to push you in one direction or another. Just to tell you I understand.” 

 “You do?” 

 “Sure,” he shrugs. “You know who doesn’t? Your mother.” 

 She lets out a hearty laugh now, her first in weeks, and asks, “what makes you say that?” 

 “Well, she believes in your first love being your true love. She thinks that if you had love for Neal back then, then you must have love for him now.” 

 “I do,” she sighs. “But I can’t just…” 

 “You can’t trust him.” He isn’t even asking. She nods. “Because of your past?” 

 “Yeah,” she says, her voice small and weak as she thinks of all that they’ve been through. All that he put her through.

 “You know you can tell me anything, right?” She slumps back into her chair and lets out a groan, thrusting her fingers into her hair and tugging just slightly. David laughs softly but waits with gentle patience. 

 “It was… I was homeless. I was on the run after leaving a foster home.” She knows that the way she starts the story surprises her father, but he lets her continue without interrupting. “I broke into a car, and it turns out he had already stolen it; that’s how we met. And I was so young and naive, and I never really had anyone who cared for me like that before, so I fell for him. The Bonnie and Clyde act was so romanticized, but at the end of the day, we lived in a car and stole every meal. We couldn’t keep going on like that, so we made a plan to settle down.” 

 She can see the pain in her father’s face as she tells him what her life was like growing up without him. She knows it isn’t his fault, and he knows it too, but that knowledge doesn’t make the truth hurt any less. 

 “Anyway, he had stolen some watches a few months prior and was wanted. He couldn’t collect the watches from where he stashed them without getting caught, and we needed the money so that we could settle down. I decided to get the watches. And he was gonna go and fence them and meet me after with the money, but he gave me one first. So when he called the cops and they found it on me, it was easy to pin the crime on me.”

 “Emma,” he breathes, dropping his head to his hand briefly before looking back up at her with glassy eyes. 

 “It’s just…” she says through her own tears, ones she didn’t realize were falling. “I loved him. I really thought I did. And when I found out I was pregnant, a part of me wished he would come back and we could be a family. But he never did, and the more time that went by, the more I realized I could never—” she chokes on a soft sob at the memory. “I could never have raised Henry by myself. I had nothing. No one to help me. No money, nowhere to live… I was stuck with a criminal record and a teenage pregnancy and it was all because of him.” 

 It was because of him. What’s to say he won't do it again? 

 All she can think about is the one person she knows would never do that to her. 

 “I had no idea,” David says sadly. 

 “How could you?”

 He shakes his head and sighs. “It all makes perfect sense. I wasn’t sure why you were so adamant about not being with him but…” 

 “I don’t think I ever forgave him. I don’t know if I ever could. He— he took away my chance to raise my son.” 

 She didn’t expect to be so emotional about this; she’s had plenty of time to process what’s happened. Maybe it’s the fact that this is one of the most heartfelt conversations she’s ever had with her father. Maybe it’s the fact that her old wounds have been ripped open again by Neal’s return. 

 She considers the pain and fear that comes with being with him. She thinks about the comfort and security she feels with Hook. She wants to bury her head in sand.

 “I’m sorry that your mother and I have been pushing you to be with him. It isn’t fair to you.” 

 “You didn’t know.” 

 “We should’ve known you had a good reason.” She shrugs, sighing and resting her head on the desk for just a moment. “You know, this seems like a pretty easy decision to me: don’t be with Neal.” 

 She laughs at that, lifting her head and resting back against the chair. “Yeah, that’s the easy part.” 

 “Ah, I knew it. So this isn’t just about him?” 

 Rolling her eyes, she says, “you’re pretty perceptive, aren’t you?” 

 He hums out a laugh and says, “Well, if you want my advice, which I realize you didn’t ask for but I’m going to give anyway, I’d say you deserve to be with someone who would do anything for you. Someone who would go out of their way to make sure you’re safe, that your family is safe. Someone… honorable.”

 “Honorable…?” She cocks her head to the side and somehow knows exactly where he’s going with this.

 “Yeah. Someone who has had a few opportunities to show that he’s honorable. Someone who has proven himself, despite his past.”

 She snorts, rolling her eyes and saying, “you’re too much.” 

 “I’m not nearly as dramatic as someone else I know, whom I believe I saw heading to his ship not thirty minutes ago.” 

 She looks up at him again, this time cautiously, emotionally, and says, “you did?” 

 With a smirk, he nods. “I saw how happy you were for the past few weeks, Emma, and I can see how unhappy you are now. I don’t know what went on between you and Neal, or you and Hook, but whatever it is, it’s time to fix it. You deserve to be happy.” 

 She does, doesn’t she? Hasn’t she had enough heartache in her life? Isn’t it time for her to admit to herself what would make her happy?

 His strong arms holding her, keeping her safe. His soft touches as he comforts her whenever she’s upset. His gentle words of encouragement and belief in her. 

 He makes her happy. And she messed it up. She hurt him. 

 She’s got to fix this.

 She huffs and rolls her eyes again, standing and taking her keys off of the desk. “Fine,” she says. “I’ll be right back.” 

 “Take your time,” he calls after her. She rolls her eyes again. 

 ~~~~

 She’s on his ship again. 

 She’s holding flowers. 

 Roses.

 Emma feels the tears trailing down her cheeks, cool against her flaming skin, and drops her head down onto her arms dramatically. She’s too late, she thinks. She hurt him too badly. There’s no way she can put herself out there now. Tink is probably a better match for him anyway. They have a long history, and if she considers the shared glances on the island, probably a sensual one. She probably knows him better than almost everyone. Better than Emma, at least. 

 God, she messed up. 

 She messes up more, though, when her arm slips off the steering wheel and her head collides with the horn, alerting everyone at the docks of her presence. 

 Everyone. 

 She scrambles, cursing as she searches for the keys in her bag that lays on the passenger's seat. “Fuck,” she mumbles once she finally finds them, but her hands are shaking so much that she can’t find the correct key and get it into the ignition. Once she finally does, she roars the engine to life and whips it into drive, glancing up and out the windshield, when she sees him. She screams, jumps, and starts rolling towards him. 

 She hears his soft bloody hell from inside the car as he holds up his arms as if surrendering to her manic driving. She puts the car back into park and drops her head to the wheel once more. 

 He rounds the car, squatting before her window and smiling softly before he points down, asking her to open it for him. She obliges, reaching for the crank and turning it painstakingly as it squeaks in resistance. “Alright, love?” he asks, and she thinks it might kill her to be here.

 “Sorry that I interrupted whatever you and Tink—”

 “You didn’t interrupt. Tink was just leaving. She’s got a big date tonight.” 

 Leave it to him to rub it in. Bastard. “I’m sure you’ll have a marvelous time.” 

 He scoffs, standing up as if to leave, and she rolls her eyes. But he walks around the car until he reaches the passengers side and jiggles the handle until she unlocks it. He moves her bag and places it on his own lap once he sits. “Swan,” he says, staring at her despite the fact that she refuses to look anywhere but straight ahead. “Emma, look at me.” 

 She turns, looking at him through her lashes and wishing she didn’t have to hold back. She wishes she could reach over the center console and kiss him. But despite her acceptance of her own feelings, she knows she needs to do the right thing. 

 “What’s wrong?” 

 She isn’t sure what to make of this question. Of all the things he could say, he chooses this. She thinks of the fact that Neal hasn’t noticed anything being off about her. 

 “Nothing,” she lies, faking a smile and looking back at the horizon. 

 “Emma,” he repeats. His voice is commanding, but not threatening. “You forget that you’re an open book, love. You’re here for a reason; tell me what it is.”

 “I’m sorry,” she blurts out without meaning to. 

 He draws in his brows, then raises one dramatically as he stares her down. “You are?” 

 She rolls her eyes. “Yes.”

 “For what?”

 “You’re gonna make me say it?” she scoffs. 

 With a smirk, he responds, “aye.” 

 With a sigh, she drops her head once again onto the wheel, then lets out a loud groan. “I’m sorry,” she starts, “for everything. You were right, I was using you, and I shouldn’t have treated you like that.” 

 She lifts her head just slightly to look at him for a moment, and sees a soft smile gracing his face. “Thank you.” 

 She leans back in the seat, her gaze finding the ceiling far too interesting. “And,” she says, struggling a bit to get the words out. “I’m sorry that my inability to deal with my own feelings hurt you.” 

 He takes her hand in his but she can’t look at him. He squeezes softly and says, “Swan.” 

 With a sigh, she gives in, unable to look away from those forget-me-nots for long. “Yeah?”

 “Thank you.” 

 As she stares into his eyes, she realizes why she was trying so hard not to. They’re so enchanting that she’s sure she could say something foolish if she continued to stare into them. Instead, she whispers, “you’re welcome.” 

 “Would you care to come aboard so we can talk a bit more comfortably?” he asks softly, taking her hand in his hesitantly. 

 “I shouldn’t.”

 “Why’s that?” His face is falling, and she wants to catch him and make him smile again.

 “I don’t want to get between you and Tink. I shouldn’t have even said anything— if you’ve moved on with her—”

 “Bloody hell, Swan,” he says through a laugh. “Tink was here for advice. She doesn’t know much of anything about this town and she was interested in Ruby. She wanted to see if I knew anything about her from my short time here before Neverland.”

 She squints as she thinks, then blurts out, “Ruby?!”

 With a chuckle, he responds, “aye. Ruby and Tink have a date tonight,” and suddenly things start to make sense. 

 “So when she was here last week…” 

 “Why Swan,” he says with a smirk, “are you implying that you were here last week?”

 She blushes fiercely and chooses honestly as she nods. “Yeah, but I left. And I’m glad I did.” 

 “Why’s that?”

 “When I came then, I knew I shouldn’t have. I knew I wouldn’t have said the things I needed to say. I’m glad I waited until now so that I could tell you that…”

 “That…?”

 “That I… I like you.” 

 His smile is brighter than the sun reflecting off of the dancing ocean waves. “I quite like you, too.” 

 “Yeah?” 

 “Oh yes.” She laughs softly, meeting his eyes once more and falling for him a bit harder. “Now, would you come aboard? I’m sure you could use something to eat.”

 She shouldn’t be surprised that he seems to have noticed her nearly full plate at breakfast this morning. With a small smile, she says, “okay.”

 When they get to the galley, kept as tidy as the rest of the ship, he offers her an orange, citing their curative properties. When she accepts, he uses his hook to start peeling it, but once she takes over, he looks at her suspiciously. “What?” she asks. 

 “I’ve just never seen you willingly eat something so healthy,” he shrugs. “I’m surprised you aren’t demanding Poptarts.” 

 With a scoff, she says, “it’s not like you have any.” 

 “Well, I’m not sure what the bloody hell a s’mores is,” he says, walking towards a cabinet and taking out a large blue box. Family size. Her mouth is watering. “But I suppose they do look rather appealing in the picture here.” 

 “You didn’t,” she says with a grin, unceremoniously dropping the inferior orange onto the table and hurrying towards him. 

 He shrugs, easily opening the box with his hook. “Well,” he says, trailing off and giving her a knowing smirk as he hands her one of the silver packets. 

 Instead of taking it, she leans towards him and presses a gentle kiss to his lips. He lets her kiss him for a few moments, backing them up so that he leans against the cabinet, before breaking them apart and murmuring, “eat,” against her lips. 

 “I’m hungry for something else,” she whispers, but her stomach growls angrily and he hoists her into his arms and carries her backwards until he can rest her on the small table in the center of the galley. 

 “I’ll not be able to have my wicked way with you if you swoon from hunger, love,” he says flirtatiously, touching their foreheads together, cupping her cheek in his palm and running his thumb along her bottom lip tantalizingly. “Eat,” he repeats, his breath fanning over her face and making her eyes flutter. 

 “You’re no fun,” she pouts when he breaks away from her, not even giving her a final kiss. 

 “I’ll be much more fun later,” he promises as he sits in the chair just below her and takes the half-peeled orange, starting on it again for himself. Once it’s opened up, he begins segmenting it meticulously, peeling away the pith and dropping it onto the discarded peels that he left on the table. Watching him place each segment into his mouth halfway and bite down, licking his lips as the juice escaped them, is driving her mad with want. 

 She eats her Poptart slowly, barely able to appreciate the sweet taste she loves so much because of the distraction he serves. But then she realizes that not only is he perhaps the sexiest man she’s ever met, he’s also the most thoughtful. Seriously, a family sized box of her favorite, most versatile meal doesn’t seem like a big gesture, but she knows the meaning behind it. He bought that for her because he cares about her comfort and her happiness. He knows they’re terrible for her, and will likely berate her when she finishes the box in a week, but he got them anyway because he cares. 

 Dammit. 

 She puts the empty foil packet down on the table by the discarded peel and scoots to the edge of the surface before him, dropping herself onto his lap and straddling his hips with her knees. She isn’t even sure this chair can support the weight of the both of them, but she supposed they’ll find out soon enough when it either breaks or he complains of a safety issue. 

 He doesn’t though, he merely pops the last segment into his mouth salaciously and places a hand on her hip, smirking as he chews in a way that shouldn’t be as appealing as it is. “Finished?” she asks him in a breathy tone when he licks his lips again. 

 “With the orange,” he confirms with a nod. “With you, not even close.” 

 She giggles, actually giggles, before her fingers find his hair and she’s kissing him, enjoying the taste of citrus against her tongue. His hand begins to roam her back, tucking up under her jacket and stroking along her soft, thin shirt while his hook finds purchase in the belt loop of her jeans. It's so easy to be here, to melt into him under his touch, to let herself relax into the feeling of being his. 

 He breaks away from her slightly, gently, and runs his fingers through her hair to move it away from her face. “What is it?” he asks, as if he can’t quite read her racing thoughts. 

 With a smile, she shrugs and leans into his palm against her cheek. “Nothing,” she starts. “Just… this feels right.” 

 He smiles too, leaning closer to kiss her chastely. “Aye, it does. I’m glad to hear you think so.” 

 “I want,” she begins, cut off by her own insecurity until his thumb traces the line of her jaw soothingly. “I want you. I want— I want to be with you.” 

 “You’re with me, love,” he breathes against her, kissing her softly once more. 

 She falters at his misunderstanding, but forces herself forward so that he grasps her true meaning. “I meant I want… us. I want to try— with you.”

 He’s still for a moment, and she feels her heart nearly beating out of her chest. She wonders if he can hear it. Though she thought they were on the same page, she isn't sure if this is him gearing up to reject her again. Maybe he isn't ready. 

 But when the smile grows on his face and he kisses her again, sweet and passionate and everything she’s been missing over the last week, her heart races for a different reason. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he says against her lips, kissing her again. 

 “Yeah?” 

 “Yeah.” 

 She wastes no time bringing his lips back to hers, running her fingers through his thick, ink-black hair and tugging him as close to her as she can. His hand continues to run up and down along her side before finally tucking under her shirt, erupting a trail of goosebumps in its wake and making her shiver against him. He chuckles as she wiggles just slightly and asks, “cold, love?” 

 “No,” she responds. “Definitely not.” 

 “Are you hot, then?” he asks with a smirk before biting her bottom lip lightly and drawing a giggle from her. 

 “I guess you could say that.”

“Well, I'm hot for you.” 

 She snorts and pulls away from him, resting her head on his shoulder and biting the soft flesh where his neck needs his shoulder. He hisses, and the sound goes straight through to her core. 

 “Take me to bed,” she whispers in his ear before biting the lobe. 

 He hums lewdly and squeezes her before backing the chair up from the table and hoisting her up into the air, her ankles crossing around him. He struggles carrying her through the ship, having to go from the galley to the main deck and then back down into his quarters, but he doesn't complain once. 

 When they get down the ladder, Emma terrified that he’ll drop her but keeping her fears to herself as she clings tightly to his shoulders and hips, he plops her on the bed and smirks down at her devilishly. “My my,” he says. “How I’ve missed you.” 

 With a soft smile, she asks, “have you?” 

 “Of course I have,” he answers, crawling up the length of her and settling himself upon her. “I hope you know I took no pleasure in turning you down the last time, love.” 

 “I know,” she says with a sad smile, the memory flooding back to her. She touches his cheek gently with her hand, reveling in the fact that she’s here now, despite what’s happened between them. “It’s good that you did. I had to figure myself out.” He hums but doesn't agree verbally, perhaps worried about offending her. “I’m sorry, Killian,” she whispers. His eyes sparkle a bit and she thinks it must be because she uses his name. He likes when she does that.

 “I know, darling. You needn't say it again.” 

 “You were right, I was using you and it was unfair.” 

 “I’m only happy you see that now, and that we’re able to move past it.” 

 “Yeah.” 

 He kisses her fervidly and she returns it, hoping to convey exactly how she's feeling through the connection between them. His tongue snakes out along her lip until she grants him access and he takes it happily. His hand trails back down her waist, squeezing her hip as if he can’t get her close enough to him. “I want you,” he mumbles against her mouth without actually breaking from her. “You've no idea how badly I wanted to eat my pride and let you into my bed when you came here, Swan. Thinking I wouldn’t ever have you again was torture.” 

 “I don’t know what I was thinking. I never want to stop this.” 

 “Good.” 

 His lips trail down her jaw, along her throat, towards her chest, until he moves her shirt aside and licks against her sensitive skin along the line of her bra and she moans. He raises himself off of her a bit and tugs her jacket off her shoulders, tossing it to the ground, then follows suit with her shirt. “Has it truly only been a week since I’ve seen these breasts?” he wonders aloud dramatically, drawing a laugh from her. 

 “You're ridiculous,” she chortles, tugging on his hair as he removes her bra. He finally mastered the modern corset a few weeks ago and he gets it off quickly, even with one hand. Once she’s free from her confines, he tosses the garment to the floor with grandeur and pounces on her, drawing a hearty laugh from her. 

 Her laughter is short lived, as the second his tongue strokes along her hardened nipple, her breathing chokes. He nips and sucks and licks just right until she’s being driven mad, his hand paying attention to the neglected breast. His hook trails her waist, the cool steel a shock to her heated flesh, until he reaches the button of her jeans and releases her nipple with a pop. He travels further down her body until he reaches the button, his face lining up to it and his fingers working deftly as if he needs to be close to complete his task. When he tugs the pants down her legs, his hand squeezes her ass lightly on its way down and she giggles again. She’s never laughed this much during foreplay, ever. 

 He presses hot kisses against the front of her, still covered in her cotton underwear, before he loops his hook in then and starts tugging them down as well. Feeling the contrast between his warm fingers and his cool hook against her flaming skin drives her wild with her need for him. 

 He sits up so that he can toss her pants and boots to the floor, and she only thinks about how unfair it is that he’s still fully dressed for a moment before he’s trailing hot, wet kisses from her knee up the inside of her thigh. “So flawless,” he murmurs against her leg, biting her flesh and likely leaving a mark. “So perfect, and all mine.” 

 She moans again once he finds his way to her center, licking a strip through her dampened folds. She hums happily and her fingers find his hair, never tiring of the vision of his head between her legs. A thought pops into her head, and she realizes this is the first time they've been this intimate in his bed. It’s the first time they haven’t had to rush through it. 

 “Killian,” she breathes out as his fingers dive into her and curl just right. 

 He hums against her in response and she keens, arching her back in hopes of getting closer to him. “Aye, love?” he asks with his tongue planted against her clit. 

 “Fuck,” she mumbles. “More.” 

 She thought she was going to ask him to stop so that he could fuck her, but at this point, she’s so close that she can’t seem to form the words. He continues his unyielding attention to her until she snaps, silently screaming and pulling on his hair too hard. 

 It’s only once she’s come down, as he continues to stroke his fingers against her tightened muscles, that she notices him rutting his hips against the mattress, still fully clothed. She places her hands on his forehead, then his cheeks once he emerges from between her thighs. “Come here,” she whispers. He smiles, doesn’t smirk, and crawls up the length of her to plant a kiss on the tip of her nose. “You’re still dressed,” she remarks. 

 “I’m sure we can remedy that.” 

 “How? There are so many buttons, and they’re so small.” He laughs as she goes on. “How do you even get them done? I’m not surprised you leave so many open.” 

 “I suppose I’ll need your help then, darling.” 

 Pushing his shoulders, she flips him onto his back and straddles his lap, bending down to plant her lips against the skin of his chest with each button that she opens. She pushes it open and finds a scar from a blade on his side, below his ribs, and presses a kiss there. She finds another from a bullet on his shoulder and decorates it with another kiss. She takes his arm in hers and kisses the tattoo above his wrist. 

 She undoes the laces on his trousers and pulls them off, her face lining up with his cock so that she can lick a strip up his shaft. He groans as she does, and his hips jump towards her when she takes him in her mouth. She can hardly fit all of him in her mouth without her eyes watering. 

 She revels in the sounds he makes in response to each of her movements, groaning and moaning as she swallows around him. She hollows her cheeks around his tip before taking him again, but he places his hand on her cheek to stop her. “Love,” he rasps. “I want you.” 

 She releases him with a soft pop and looks at him through her lashes as he takes a deep breath, guiding her up to him and kissing her softly. “You’re incredible,” he whispers against her lips. 

 With a giggle, she sits up, taking him in her hand once more and stroking him a few times before running the tip along her folds. He squeezes her hip as she tucks him inside her and they groan in unison. She looks down at him as he fills her to the hilt, and she realizes it’s the first time that she’s made eye contact with him during sex. It won't be the last. 

 He thrusts up into her forcefully as she grinds on top of him, the two of them setting an unforgiving pace for themselves. For each other. He bends his knees behind her, supporting her rear against his thighs and giving her more leverage. She plants her palms on his chest, her hair a curtain around the both of them before he leans up to capture her lips in his. She drops down, her elbows beside his head and his arms around her waist to pull her closer as they continue their movements against each other. 

 After a moment, he shifts them so that they’re flipping over, Emma landing on her back with Killian on top of her. He plunges back in, kissing her passionately as he thrusts relentlessly, perfectly. She claws at his back and desperately whispers, “don’t stop,” into his ear. He groans and buries his nose into her neck and kisses her skin, the tender gesture a contrast from his fierce thrusts. 

 They reach a precipice together, clinging to each other and shouting out into each other’s skin. She lets her muscles tighten around him until she falls off the edge of the cliff he’s been working her towards, then she feels him spilling himself into her almost immediately after and it makes her cling to him harder. 

 He kisses along her neck and jaw and face endlessly as they come down from their highs, and she can only smile once she catches her breath. When she does, she kisses him back. 

 “That was marvelous,” he whispers, and she chuckles. 

 “Yeah,” she breathes back. “Thank you.” 

 “You needn’t thank me for that, love. I’m sure it’ll happen again.” 

 With a laugh, she says, “no, I mean thank you for listening. And for giving me a chance.” 

 He rests his forehead against hers and nuzzles his nose against her own and says, “always.” 

 ~~~~

 They should’ve been more careful. It was the middle of the morning when she arrived, and she was technically supposed to be working, so they should have taken care not to fall asleep. But when she wakes and the sun isn’t streaming brightly through the eastern-facing windows, she knows she’s screwed. 

 “Killian,” she hisses, jabbing his ribs with her elbow as he holds her back to his front. “Wake up, I have to go.” 

 “No you don’t,” he mumbles into her hair, holding her tighter. 

 “I’m supposed to be at the station.”

 “Shhh.” 

 She rolls her eyes, unaware that Navy men could nap, and wriggles her way out of his tight hold in favor of grabbing her phone. She should have cleaned herself up before they fell asleep, but she didn’t exactly plan on that happening. 

 When she pulls her phone out of her pocket, she has 3 texts from David. 

 Hope everything’s going well… All good?

 Actually, I don’t want to know. 

 Been a while, let me know if you’re coming back today. 

 Dammit. 

 She scurries around the room to get her clothes on, refusing to speak with her father without them, and then calls him to put his mind at ease. He answers on the first ring. “She’s alive!”

 “I’m sorry. I lost track of time and—”

 “Seriously, I don’t wanna know. Shifts almost over anyway,” she pulls the phone away and sees that he’s right. She’s a terrible sheriff. “I was able to handle everything. Take the rest of the day and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 “You’re sure?”

 “Yeah. You two worked it out, I’m assuming?”

 With a grin and a blush as she looks down at Killian who begins to stir, she says, “yeah, we did. Thanks, Dad.”

 “See you later,” he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice. 

 When she hangs up, she sees him smiling at her and she can’t help but to go back towards the bed. “Morning,” he murmurs. 

 “Hardly. It’s almost 3.”

 “You must be famished then.” He pulls her hand so that she’s laying across his chest atop the blanket. 

 “I could eat, but I don’t know if I’m in the mood for another Poptart.”

 “I wouldn’t dream of giving you more than one a day.” She doesn’t have the heart to tell him it comes with two in each package. 

 “Granny’s?”

 “Sounds perfect.” 

 ~~~~

 They sit across from one another in the booth, Emma’s back to the door, before she thinks better of it and moves to sit beside him. It’s a tight squeeze, but she doesn’t mind being close to him. He gives her a look, a quirky smile as if he’s entertained, and tucks his hook under the table. She wonders if he does this to hide it from her, but she can’t imagine why he would think he’d need to. So, rather than ignore the thoughts like she may have a week ago, or even yesterday, she reaches under the table and takes his hook in her hand to hold it tenderly. 

 He breathes out in a way that could be a laugh, or perhaps it’s in disbelief, and he bumps her shoulder with his. 

 “The usual?” Granny asks with disinterest, seemingly unfazed by their close proximity and child-like grins. 

 “Yes, please,” Emma responds, stomach singing praises at the prospect of a grilled cheese and onion rings. 

 Killian orders a clam chowder, apparently something he can’t get enough of, much like you, love. 

 She giggles again, something that makes her so unlike the person she thought she was, and presses her nose to his neck, leaving a kiss there. She’s about to tell him something, she isn’t sure what— perhaps that she thinks he’s funny, or that he’s ridiculous— when the door opens with particular force. 

 “Emma,” she hears, the tone accusatory, and she straightens, stiffening but not pulling too far away. 

 Henry’s with him. 

 Neal picked him up from school. 

 “Hey mom!” he calls as he rushes towards the table and sits across from them. 

 “Hey kid,” she says back with a smile. Though she’s rigid, she feels her muscles relaxing in the presence of her son. “How was school?” 

 She notes Neal from the corner of her eye, sitting awkwardly at the counter but still facing them suspiciously. 

 “Good, I learned my eights times tables.” 

 “Wow,” she says with a smile. Though she hated math, she finds that Henry enjoys it, and she couldn’t be prouder. “That sounds fun.” 

 “What’s this time table? Some sort of clock?” Hook asks. 

 “Modern math,” Emma explains with a soft laugh, and he nods in understanding. 

 “So, what are you guys doing here?” he asks, gesturing towards her close proximity to Killian. 

 “Ah,” Hook says awkwardly, scratching behind his right ear. “Grabbing some lunch.” 

 “Isn’t it kinda late for lunch?”

 She clears her throat and straightens a bit, taking hold of his hook once more under the table and trying to speak loud enough so that Neal can hear. She’s sure he will, as she’s sure he’s listening closely. “Actually, Henry, we’re on a date.” Killian looks at her immediately, surprise and excitement written across his face, and when she meets his gaze, she smiles softly at him. “Right?” 

 He looks at her so longingly, so… lovingly, that she can’t help leaning towards him. She almost kisses him before she hears Neal stand from his stool and walk over. “Henry, I gotta go.” 

 “I thought we were having milkshakes?” 

 “Seems like you can have one with your mom and… Hook,” he spits in disgust.

 “Neal,” Emma tries, but he holds up a hand to silence her. 

 “It’s fine, Ems. I see you’ve made up your mind and that’s just fine.” 

 She glances towards Henry and Killian and then stands, placing a hand on Neal’s shoulder to not-so-gently persuade him to speak with her in private. 

 “Neal, come on,” she says once they’re alone.

 “What?” 

 “So I didn’t choose to be with you! I’m sorry about that. It doesn’t have to impact us.” 

 “There is no us, Emma. You made that perfectly clear when you stood me up and got together with him.” 

 She rolls her eyes and huffs an angry breath. “We have a child together. We will always have a relationship. And you were engaged a few weeks ago! To someone who kidnapped my son!” she hisses in quiet anger. 

 “I didn’t know Tamara was like that!”

 “The point is, you have no claim over me. You have no right to judge me for moving on and being happy with someone who isn’t you. I can’t go through this with you. You were just engaged to someone else. How could I even believe you?”

 “That thing with Tamara wasn’t even real, Emma, you know that.” 

 “But you didn’t know that; it was real for you. And seeing how fast you moved on from her just reminded me how fast you moved on from me. After you left me in jail.” 

 “We’re not seriously talking about that again, are we?” 

 “We’ve never talked about it!” She’s trying so hard not to raise her voice, mindful of the fact that Hook is somehow entertaining Henry across the diner. 

 “I moved on from her because I knew I wanted to be with you!” 

 “It’s not enough for me. I deserve to be with someone who makes me feel safe. Who shows me every day that they want to be with me too. That I mean something to them.” 

 His tone is so patronizing that she feels herself shrinking. “When did I ever show you that you didn’t mean something to me?” 

 “When you called the cops!” She does shout now, the diner quieting and the patrons turning to look at them discreetly, and she blushes 

 “You’re really letting the chance of us go because of a pirate and a mistake I made 12 years ago.” It wasn’t a question. He seems in such disbelief and she honestly isn’t sure what to say to make him see her point. The fact that it isn’t just what happened 12 years ago. 

 “That wasn’t a mistake, Neal. A mistake is something you can fix. What you did ruined my life. You took away my chance to raise my child.” It’s all she can do to keep from crying at the memory of the decision she had to make. 

 “I didn’t know,” he says softly, weakly, as he looks down at his feet. 

 “I don’t care.” 

 “Well, what about Hook?” He asks, raising his voice now. “He left with the bean, didn’t he?”

 “And then he immediately came back and helped us rescue Henry! He made amends! There’s nothing you can do that will make me forgive you for what you did to me. To him.”

 “You said you loved me.”

 “Because you gave me my son. You said you wouldn’t stop fighting for us; just… fight for him. He loves you, so I want to be civil and coparent with you. But that’s all you and I will ever be. Please respect that I’ve made my decision and it runs so much deeper than choosing between you and Killian.”

 He’s silent for a moment, essentially pouting as he tucks his hands into his sweatshirt pockets and kicks at the ground, before he says, “fine. I gotta go.”

 “Okay. When are you seeing Henry for dinner this week?”

 “I don’t know.”

 “Neal, don’t take this out on him. Just tell me when you plan on seeing him for dinner.”

 “I don’t know,” he says more forcefully. “I’ll text you or something.” 

 “Fine.” 

 “Fine.” 

 She watches as he walks by the booth, glaring at Hook and tapping Henry on the shoulder, then walks out the door without a word. 

 ~~~~

 Later, when they’re on his ship out on the bay, laying together on the main deck as the stars shine in the blackened sky, he runs his fingers through the ends of her hair and she traces hers through the curls on his chest. “I only know the Big Dipper,” she says softly, and he hums happily. 

 “I’ll teach you, love.” 

 She curls up closer to him, tucking her head into the space between his neck and shoulder. “That sounds nice.” 

 “And perhaps we can have dinner beforehand. Somewhere other than Granny’s?” 

 With a soft chuckle, she asks, “why Captain, are you asking me out?” 

 “I believe that’s customary in this realm, yes?” 

 “Yes, I guess it is.”

 He kisses against her temple, pulling her closer to him until she’s giggling and hopping up onto his hips and straddling her thighs around his, running both hands along his cheeks and planting a chaste kiss on his lips. “Well then,” he says once she releases him, “I quite look forward to it. Henry informed me that you may enjoy an Italian meal.” 

 “Henry did?” 

 “Aye, lad was quite excited, I’d say. Said something about taking you out on a real date. And about being glad to see his mother so happy.” 

 She laughs in disbelief and shakes her head before kissing him, this one with more fervor than the last. She sneaks her tongue along his bottom lip softly as his hand trails up her waist, and she can’t help the contented sigh that releases from her nose. “I am happy,” she says when they press their foreheads together. 

 “Aye, I look forward to making you happy for many years to come.” 

 And he does make her happy, scaling her walls and crashing them down until all that remains between them is respect and trust and endless love. 

 ~~~~

~~~~

[klynn-stormz]

Written in the Stars

Hi everyone! Today is my day to drop my January Joy fic!! It was only supposed to be a one shot, but that didn’t work out so well, lol. I have split it into two parts and the second part should be posted within the next two weeks! So without further ado, here we go, I hope you enjoy it!

AO3: 1 |

Summary:  Emma Swan is enjoying her small town life in Storybrooke, a place where she can raise her son, practice her magic, and lead a relatively normal happy life. What she doesn’t expect is Killian Jones moving to town for business and turning her quite life up on it’s head. She’s not about to let some stranger interrupt it, easier said than done when everyone, including her magic, seems to push them together 

Part 1:

The snow-covered meadow glimmered under the full moon, a layer of untouched smooth snow had crossed the expanse of the forest Emma had walked through. There was something about the way the new snow shined brightly against the dark wood of the trees that made her think she had gone through a portal to a new enchanted realm. Under the watchful eyes of the moon and stars, Emma made her way to the middle of the meadow and took a moment to breath in the cold air. This was her favorite time, the sun had set long ago, the sound of the night animals was quiet and soothing, and not another soul was in sight. This was a time when she could be herself. She set her basket on the ground, it was already brimming with the herbs she had collected from the forest, and brushed the hood of her silvery white cloak off her face, then went to work on her favorite ritual.

 The set up was easy; the symbols drawn in the snow, much easier than in the dirt in her opinion, the herbs needed laid on the outer circle, she stood with a goblet in the middle and uttered the enchantment into the still night. It was a little later this year than she normally preformed, but her duties in town kept her busy until nearly 10 days after the New Year. Henry had finally put his foot down and insisted she preform it tonight, seeing that it was affecting her so. Preforming it late wouldn’t stop the renewal ritual from working, as it always did, she had just felt off until she was able to perform it. The coven in town had performed one on at midnight of New Years, but she rarely participated in the coven activities, preferring instead to keep to herself.

 Storybrooke was the perfect place for her and her son, from a young age her abilities had made it hard to stay in one home long. Left on the side of the road as a newborn she had been sent through the foster system, placed in families until her powers scared them to much for her to continue living there. Many hardships and trials had been sent her way, and each time she picked herself back up again. Eventually ending up in a quiet town of Storybrooke, finding others who practiced as she did. She wasn’t close to many of them, but they and all of Storybrooke had snuck their way into her heart and become family. Henry had taken to Storybrooke quickly, finding friends on the first day of school and worming his way into the hearts of all of the people there. His happiness at their newest home was what sealed her decision to stay, he needed stability and he needed a real home. Now, 5 years later, they were well settled in.

 The ritual completed, the spell seemingly hanging in the frigid air, Emma breathed a deep sigh of relief. A feeling of comfort washed over her as the cleansing and renewal ritual did its job. She carefully picked up her basket and walked to the edge of the meadow, waving her hand the grooves she had created in the snow disappeared as if she had never stepped foot there. Making her way back through the woods to a cozy cottage at the end of town, one she was lucky enough to have a view of the forest and the ocean in, she could never have realized how the new year would change her life.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“You’re completely blowing this out of proportion!” Ruby complained.

 “I’m really not.��� Emma rolled her eyes while popping an onion ring into her mouth. She was having lunch with a few of her friends at Granny’s. Ruby was insistent on talking about the disaster that was Emma’s dating life, a topic that seemed to be a favorite among her, Mary Margaret, Ana and Elsa. “I’m not doing it again; I will not go through another Walsh incident.”

 “That wasn’t my fault!” Mary Margaret exclaimed, flushing slightly. “How was I supposed to know that he was a creep? He seemed so nice as the bank! Besides, I’m sure that this new man, his name is James, will be much different.”

 Everyone at the table stared at her till she muttered something about Emma becoming an old maid. Normally Emma would be put off and make them promise to stop setting her up, this would be met with mumbling and no eye contact. Normally. Today was different though, it was a cold fresh February morning, and there was something in the air today that made her feel content and almost… safe. It was a rare feeling for her, even in Storybrooke she rarely felt that way. She wasn’t quite sure she could trust the feeling, not one to get her hopes up.

 “I think we should get back to talking about Ruby’s date.” Elsa suggested. She was reserved, much like Emma, while her sister Ana was the most people person Emma had ever met. She gave Mary Margaret a run for her money on talking and gossip.

 “I’d rather talk about the new ship that just sailed in!” Ruby deflected.

 “Storybrooke has a fairly large port, why would a ship be anything special?” Ana paused, then hurriedly continued. “Not that ship isn’t special, I mean everyone is special so that must make it sort of special. Although, if everyone is special no one is right? Wait no, that’s from the Incredibles isn’t it, I need to stop falling asleep watching movies. What I’m trying to say is what makes this particular ship interesting? I’m sure it’s very interesting, but we do get ships in and out of port all the time, and they are all interesting too, especially the ones that trade in magic, but you never want to talk about those ones. I think that we need to discuss—”

 “Okay, that could go on for awhile so I’ll just answer your question now. The Captain and his brother are major hotties and we definitely need to find out more about them.” Everyone at the table was aware that once Ana got started it was best to interrupt her before they spent an hour listening to her ramblings. The current record was actually an hour and twelve minutes before they couldn’t take it anymore.

 “Of course, it would be because you think they’re attractive.” Elsa rolled her eyes at Ruby’s wiggling eyebrows.

 “Oh, believe me, if I wasn’t in an exclusive relationship, I would eat them up.”

 “I knew it! I knew you and Victor were finally serious.” Mary Margaret’s gleeful cry made Emma’s ears ring.

 “As fun as this is, I better get back to work.”

 “Emma you’re the sheriff you can make your own hours, it’s a Monday, nobody wants to work on a Monday!” Ruby whined.

 “And as the sheriff, it’s my responsibility not to spend three hours talking about potentially hot newcomers at lunch and instead protect and serve.” She responded drily. Turning towards the door, she was met with a loud chuckle and vivid blue eyes staring into hers.

 “I assure you, love, I wouldn’t mind if you continued to talk about my attractiveness.” The man gave her a grin that might have stopped her heart, she wasn’t quite sure at the moment, to lost in his eyes. His dark hair brushed over his forehead, she wanted to run her fingers through the strands and brush her palms against the stubble lining his jaw. When she got ahold of herself, she prayed that she hadn’t been staring to long.

 “As I said, I have better things to do.” She sniped, her defenses up, even if they felt different. Normally her magic would be on edge with a stranger near her, but now it seemed to lean towards him.

 That was ridiculous, she was just imagining it.

 She hoped.

 “Well, then it’s best I introduce myself to the law enforcement of this lovely town. Killian Jones at your service.” He bowed slightly and her eyebrows went up.

 “Planning on needing the Sheriff’s department anytime soon Mr. Jones?”

 “Only if the Sheriff is the one to respond.” His wink sent a shiver through her that she worked hard to keep hidden.

 “Emma Swan then,” Forcing her voice to sound clipped and uncaring. He reached down and took her hand; the reaction of her magic was immediate. Bursting around her in little near fireworks that only she could see, she panicked and attempted to reign it in. Her magic never showed itself to other people unless she willed it to; not even Mary Margaret, Ruby or Elsa had ever seen it, though they knew she had it.  He didn’t help any by lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. The magic continued to burst around her until he dropped her hand.

 “I should be going.” A quick mumble and a nod of her head was the last thing he saw before she rushed out the door.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 For the rest of the day Emma stewed over her magic, it had taken her a long time to come to terms with what she was, and even longer to learn to control it. As light magic was magic that was inherited and based on emotion, it was harder than dark magic. While dark magic took practice, research and patience, it did not require emotion; Emma’s magic was some of the strongest that Storybrooke had seen in a long time and they relied on her control over it to keep their little town off the radar of those who would exploit it. The local coven worked hard to protect the town, and expected her to do the same.

 She needed to know why her magic reacted differently to him. A flash of Neal went through her mind and her stomach curled at the memory. A man who had taken advantage of a young girl all alone in the world, who had made her believe she was special. The only good thing she had gotten out of that relationship was Henry, and Henry would always be her top priority.

 “Hey mom!” Henry barreled through the door, eyes bright and full of his adventures from school. Her shift finished, she grabbed her jacket, phone and radio, and hugged him.

 “Hey kid, ready for some dinner? I was thinking pizza.”

 “Works for me! We have a new project in English, we get to write a short story.” He dumped his backpack on her desk, then sheepishly picked it up at Emma’s raised brows. “I was thinking I could interview you about some of your magic and—”

 “How about we get some dinner, go home and you can tell me your story over dinner?” Emma asked, grabbing the phone to order.

 Later at their apartment, while they ate their dinner and had the tv playing in the background, Henry told her about his idea. He had gotten nearly to the end when he paused. “I don’t want to spoil the whole story for you.”

 “I thought your teacher said you were supposed to write a short story kid.” She teased him, impressed with his imagination. He’d always had such a wonderful view of the world; Emma was pretty sure she would be buying copies of his books one day. “Why do you need to interview me?”

 “Well, if the princess, Evil Queen, and Dark One are going to have magic I need to know how to write it! I don’t want to make any mistakes.”

 “Alright, tell you what. You get all of your homework done on Friday, and on Saturday and Sunday we will go through a few basic.” He grinned and hugged her tight. When he was all tucked into bed and Emma was reading in her room, she couldn’t help but think of blue eyes and dark hair. Her magic sparked again, a light skittering across the room. She would worry about everything tomorrow. Banishing thoughts of him, she willed herself to sleep.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Killian Jones had seen much of the world in his days, he had seen wonders and mysteries, magic and mayhem, good and bad people, and most everything in-between. As a Captain in the Navy, before he lost his hand in a tragic storm that he nearly lost his brother in, and as a sailor building a business with his brother when they left the Navy. He had been everywhere he’d ever dreamed. Yet, none compelled him as much as the blonde haired, green eyed sheriff that had magic bursting around her as he kissed her hand.

 He’d heard the lasses at the table talking about him and his brother. The long-haired brunette excitedly exclaiming their attractiveness and looking for gossip about them, while the blonde goddess rolled her eyes and looked for an excuse to leave. Seeing her had nearly stopped his heart, he was quite sure of that, only to have it pounding in his ears when their eyes met and time stopped. He could have stared into them forever, wanting to lean closer and brush his lips over hers. He wanted to gather her in his arms and find a private room to kiss her till neither could breathe, after all he wouldn’t need air so long as he had her. He was brought back to himself by the sound of her voice, a bored tone with a hard edge, as if she was putting on a show with it.

 Her eyes shined out at him and he was sure she felt the same as he had, though he was no less embarrassed at where his thoughts had gone immediately. He reigned himself in, flirting just enough with her to get her name. Emma Swan. Fitting, he mused, she had the elegance and grace of one, with high enough walls he knew he’d get pecked if he pushed.

  He didn’t think he’d mind much.

 The moment his lips touched her hand, the white sparks of magic had lit around them, fascinating him. He would have asked her what they were, but for the panic in her eyes when she realized what was happening. He pretended he saw nothing; it could wait till a later date. He had a feeling it would be long till the next meeting.

 When she was gone, he’d ordered at the counter, found a table and waited for his brother. All of his thoughts revolved around Emma.

 “She’s totally single you know.” Came a voice from behind. He turned in his chair to see the group of woman Emma had been with staring at him, a little bit of mischief in their eyes. The one who spoke gave him a wolfish grin. “In case you were wondering.”

 “The sheriff?” He clarified.

 “That’s the one, utterly single and refusing any sort of set up.” The woman with a pixie hair cut and the kindest eyes he’d every seen, replied. “She’s naturally suspicious of people, so you’d have to try pretty hard if you wanted anything to happen.”

 “That is,” Now a woman with frost in her hair and ice in her voice spoke up. “If you’re planning on sticking around.” He smiled at that.

 “My brother and I recently moved our business headquarters to this town, as it’s a good port and unique. We’ll be here for a long while.”

 “Oh that’s just lovely! Emma takes awhile to warm up to people, but you’d definitely want her on your side since she’s the sheriff. Just don’t break any laws and annoy her and you’re good to go.” The final woman had a voice that sprinted instead of walked, he wasn’t sure her mouth was even moving at the speed the words came out.

 “Thank you, ladies, for the advice. I’ll take it into account.” His brother walked through the door then and he was distracted greeting him, nodding a farewell to the women as they left. He smirked slightly when the icy woman ran into his brother and uttered a quick apology, the moment couldn’t have been more than ten seconds and his brother looked starstruck. Looks like they’d both have better reasons to make Storybrooke their new home.

 Liam and he spent the next hour going over some of the logistics of moving the company. It was almost done, the last thing to deal with was selling the old building they’d had back in England. The move to Storybrooke would be better in the long run, while the port wasn’t as big as the one they’d been at, most of their business and suppliers were closer, saving them money in the long run, and they’d just signed three new contracts with new contacts.

 Having heard of Storybrooke’s… unique circumstance, they were drawn to wanting to experience it for themselves. Their mother had been open about her magic from the time she had met their father, he had never really liked it, but dealt with it to be with her. She raised Liam and Killian to believe and practice as well, and though she had died when both were still young, her lessons had stayed with them when their father did not. Neither Liam nor Killian practiced regularly, feeling there were others much more talented that could keep the balance better. However, they preferred a place where they felt comfortable and free. Both had stepped off their ship onto the Storybrooke dock and could feel the rumors had merit. There was magic here, and it seemed to welcome them.

  “Well little brother, it’s time to find some housing I believe. I’ve scheduled a meeting with a realtor tomorrow who will walk us around some of the houses they have here.” Liam clapped his brother on the back, heading towards the back that led to the Bed and Breakfast rooms they’d booked for the week.

 “You mean younger brother,” Killian corrected. “and as long as you know I’m getting my own place then that should be fine.”

 “Of course, you’re not living with me anymore. It’s time for you to stop mooching off of me and get your own space.” The teasing tone made Killian roll his eyes as he bumped into his side a little harder than necessary.

 “Goodnight Liam, see you tomorrow.” Killian went to sleep and dreamt of green-eyed swans and magic.

[essence-ofme]

Struggle of a Shopaholic

Over the past year, I’ve started to come to terms with the fact that I am a shopaholic. In other words, I’m kind of really materialistic, obsessed with clothes and other items I feel I need for whatever reason, but especially clothes. Blame my Auntie Karen. She was once a personal shopper for a very wealthy couple back in her day; she was notorious for finding the best deals and bargains— would send my mom to school in designer brands from Gucci to Givenchy. Coming up myself, I would spend hours at the thrift store with her and my granny, sifting through clothes. My Auntie Karen would also give me hand-me-downs— bags filled with clothes she’d never worn or were too small to fit (her and I were roughly the same size, with me filling out a bit more in certain places). Watching her as a kid and even ‘till this day, I marvel at the way she dresses, clad in outfits you can tell that she puts a great deal of consideration in, even when she’s not particularly going anywhere. I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember as well, carefully planning out my attire almost every day, taking pride in my sense of fashion and combination of clothing choices, probably a bit more so than the average Joe. But what can I say? That’s just the way I was raised, what I was taught, what I’ve seen. So yeah, blame her.

OK, she’s not really to blame, although I definitely think she’s a significant part of the reason. A while ago, my mom even slightly (not so slightly) mocked me for my excessive spending on clothes while we were in the midst of discussion about possibly getting a car for me in the future.

“You stay spending your money on clothes you don’t need,” she scolded. “If you had stacked your unemployment, you coulda been had a car. But you felt the need to buy shoes in every color for some reason.”

I had chuckled at this. OK, fair point. But hey, I’m not exaggerating when I say my shoe collection had been looking very shabby, minimal. I had to get more, especially in a variety of colors to match my outfits! Duh.

“Hey, blame Auntie Karen for my obsession with clothes,” I joked, to which my mom shook her head. But then, a bit more seriously, I added, “Just kidding. I don’t know. You’re right. It’s definitely a problem.”

“It’s a sickness,” my mom had declared brazenly. “If I were you, I would think deeply about why— are you trying to get attention, are you filling some type of void?”

It was kind of funny because deep down I had known the reasons myself for quite a long time already. But to hear her question it so bluntly like that had really made me start to think about some of the underlying issues I really did have, but were trying to pretend as though they were no big deal. Was I trying to get attention? I mean the wording of that made it sound so desperate and pathetic, but I did often intend to get noticed a little bit more from people based on the clothes I specifically chose to wear. With my wardrobe came a certain confidence, a new me coming to life every day and making myself known. Even on days when I dressed more casually. And I was definitely filling a void, I mean, who isn’t? Shopping and the feeling of buying new clothes and things, but once again, especially clothes, just makes me feel better when, unfortunately, most times I’m used to feeling shitty and insecure. Everything about it is fun for me, from looking around and discovering clothes to imagining where I’d wear them, there is even great excitement once I get home and begin to put all of my things away.

I know I said blame my Auntie Karen, and I was partly joking, but let me just say that the fact that I work in a retail store does not help at all. In fact, I think it’s only made my shopaholic tendencies even worse. Ironically enough, my Auntie Karen was the one who actually pointed out the T.J. MAXX job opening to me, and well, she is the reason I have this job ‘till this day. Thank you, Auntie Karen. But seriously, what is the lady trying to make of me? A clothes-obsessed, materialistic bitch who unnecessarily wastes all of her money? All I do is shop on the clock, wander around the shopping floor looking at things to possibly buy. But OK, I’m deflecting. Once again, it really isn’t her fault. But she is a major influence.

Sometimes I even find myself embarrassed by how much I shop, believing that it’s something others notice as well. Usually I’ll pile items on the counter about a good two or three times per week, and every time someone rings me up, I can’t help but wonder if they and other surrounding coworkers at the registers are wondering why I buy so many things from there. I mean, it’s not like I’m the only one who does, but still. Knowing what I now know about myself, I feel slightly self-conscious about my excessive shopping habit.

All I know is that something’s gotta give. I can’t keep spending money on clothes I don’t need. (OK, well actually I don’t think I can just quit cold-turkey. I think it would be better to modify my shopping, going back to my old ways and buying a bunch of clothes at thrift stores instead, so that way I get more for less.) Maybe one day, hopefully, I’ll realize that I don’t need clothes and other items to complete me. But for now… I mean, why not shop?

[writing-mermaid]

Another Heart Calls, prologue : Hopeless love what else for me is this my destiny ?

Summary : Y/N is a soulmate seeker. As all the seekers before her she can see everyone's soulmates. But being a seeker is not a blessing because every seeker has her own soulmate but their soulmate never loves them back. Destined to be unlucky and unhappy with love and to raise a child that will be the last seeker of her family, what if her destiny changes when she falls in love with someone who lost his soulmate a very long time ago and that he loves her back. But, life isn't easy and what would happen if her soulmate realizes that he loves her too ?

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader; Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings : Mention of death and blood

Word Count : 4660

Square Filled : @star-spangled-bingo​ : Soulmate AU

Author’s note : This story is on my WIP for a little time. I hope you’ll enjoy it. Don’t forget that feedback is appreciated and really important.

Song of the title : Is This My Destiny ? - Wanda Jackson

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Everybody was born with a soulmate. Well almost everybody. Only a handful of people don't have one and only a few have two or more. But with each generation, there's only one soulmate seeker. I'm the one for that generation, the only one, the chosen one, the seeker.

  Every two hundred years, destiny randomly chooses a family and for two hundred years, the firstborn of that same family has the powers of the seeker. When the family is chosen, every firstborn are girls, because, seekers are only girls. Mine has been chosen in 1817, which means that the last one of our family will be born in 2017, I was born in 1987, which means that I'll have that child the year of my thirtieth birthday, a bit later than the other women of my family.

  My mother waited for me to be old enough to understand, explaining to me that I was the next one and to tell me the rules. First, she explained to me that my future daughter will be the last seeker of our family before fate chooses another one, then she told me all that I had to know, the good and the bad things. So, here are the things she tells me.

  First, she said that my seekers powers are going to appear when I'll reach my sixteenth birthday, she had it from my grandmother, who had it from her mother, who had it from the generations before. When I'll turn sixteen, I'll be able to touch someone and tell them what I saw about their soulmates. It could be just a detail, a name, the way they look like and sometimes, name and the way they look. When I asked about people who don't have one, she said that everything will be blank and that I'll not feel anything. For my own soulmate, my mother promised me that she would tell me the day I would ask to know who he is. After clearing those points, she started to outline the rules.

  Rule number 1 : The seeker is always a girl,  her soulmate will always be a boy.

 Rule number 2 : From the age of sixteen, when the seeker's powers appear, she will be able to see the bonds between soulmates. She can see things about other people soulmates, but not about her own. However, sometimes, the seeker can see things, but it rarely happens.

 Rule number 3 : The seeker's soulmate has himself another soulmate. And in the end, he always chooses his other soulmate. The link between the seeker and her soulmate will break in favor of the other soulmate.

 Rule number 4 : No matter what her sexual orientation is, the seeker and her soulmate will always at least spend a night together, the result of that night is going to be a baby girl who will be the next generation of seeker, no matter if it's protected, the seeker will get pregnant.

 Rule number 5 : The seeker will raise her daughter all by herself because she can't be loved by her soulmate or by anyone else.

  So, this is how I grew up, only with my mother and my grandmother. My grandma died when I was five and my mom when I was twenty-one. I don't know my father, never met him, never seen a picture of him, I don't even know his name. But this never disturbed me, I had my mom and granny, I didn't need anybody else.

  No one knew about my powers, no one except Marian, my best friend. Marian's parents met thanks to my mother, Alienor, that my grandmother named after a French queen. Katherine and my mom were best friends from high school and short after my mom told her about her soulmate, Richard, she met him randomly at a Robin Hood film show. It was love at first sight, which is not the case for every soulmate, and that's why they called their daughter Marian the day of her birth.

  Marian and I grew up together, best friends since preschool, even before according to our mothers. At the age of seven, I told her about my futures abilities, she seemed so excited and made me promise something.

 “Promise me, please promise me, that when you'll have your seeker powers, I'll be the first one you're going to tell who her soulmate is. Promise me Y/N.”

“I promise”, I answered her, concealing our promise with a drop of blood making us 'blood sisters'.

  Around the same age, I started to ask my mother about my own soulmate. Despite all she said to me about the fact that my soulmate will leave me for his other one after spending only one night with me, I still wanted to know about him, and she promised me to tell me what I wanted to know when I'll almost be sixteen, because she thought that I would not be prepared for it before.

  So, years pass by, I grew up and eventually, my sixteen's birthday arrived faster than I expected.

  I was taking my breakfast when someone rang the bell and when I opened the door, Marian was behind, holding a present and a big balloon which said, 'Happy birthday'. Even before I had the time to say hello, she rushed inside the house, pulling me behind her to my bedroom upstairs.

  “So, what do you see ?”, Marian asked, excitedly, when she sat on my bed, patting the empty spot next to her for me to take place. “Tell me, is he tall ? Is he strong ? Is he blond ? Is he a brunet ? How are his eyes ? Just tell me please, please, please !!!!”, she added, extending her left hand for me to hold.

  I took it between mine, took a deep breath and closed my eyes to concentrate, like I've seen my mother doing so much time. I opened my eyes after two minutes.

 “What ? Have you already seen something ?”, she questioned.

“I've seen nothing”, I answered. “I'm gonna try again, remember that's the first time I'm doing it.”

  I took her hand and closed my eyes again. I tried and hoped so much that I'll be able to give her an answer, but nothing came. After ten minutes, I opened my eyes again and with a sad look on my face, looked at Marian's, just to see her smile fading away when she saw my expression.

 “Marian, I'm sorry”, I finally whispered after an awful pregnant silence.

“Wha... Wha... What are you talking about ?”

“I... I...”, I stammered. “I see nothing for you.”

“What does that mean ?”, she asked, on the verge of tears, her face drained of its colors.

“You... You... You don't have a soulmate”, I finished saying.

“No. No. No. That's impossible, I can't ! I must have one !”, she shouted, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“It's okay, Marian, it's okay. It doesn't matter if you don't have one.”

“That's easy to say for you”, she spat. “You have one, as you are a seeker, YOU HAVE ONE !”

“Yes, I have one, but one who's gonna leave me alone with a baby. You, you will have the choice, the choice to find someone, the person you want. You'll have someone, when I'll be alone.”

“Yes, poor little Y/N and her soulmate that will abandon her, everything is always about you !”

“Please, Marian, don't say that”, I said, tears falling from my eyes.

  She raised from the bed and rushed to the door before slamming the front one in her way. I laid back on my bed, sighing and feeling bad because I hurt my best friend.

  When my mom came back home, with takeout of my favorite food and a cake, she asked me where Marian was, I explained to her what happened in the morning.

 “Don't you worry baby, that's not your fault”, she said. “Marian is not stupid, she'll understand. She loves you, and she knows that it's not your fault, that you didn't do that on purpose. She knows that there are people without soulmates. She'll be back really quickly”, she added, kissing my forehead.

“Mom.”

“Yes, darling ?”

“I'm sixteen now and you said that when I'll be old enough, you would tell me about my soulmate.”

  She sighed, waving at me to follow her in the living room. She made me sat on the couch and did the same movements I did with Marian few hours before. I knew that she was having a vision, and my soulmate must be handsome, seeing the smile on her face, but quickly it changed, her face become worrier and her smile faded away, and she let go of my hand. When she opened her eyes, she looked terrified.

 “Mom”, I called her. “Mom”, I shook her shoulders. “Mom, what happened ? What did you see ?”

  She looked at me with wide eyes, fear and worry filling her gaze.

  “Nothing baby, I saw nothing.”

“Mom”, I whined. “You saw something, I know it.”

“What I saw wasn't pretty, my love, I'd rather you do not know until I find out”, she finished, raising from the couch, before heading back to the kitchen.

  We spent my birthday night in an almost total silence. Each time I opened my mouth, she shut me down, refusing to tell me about my soulmate. When I went to sleep, I swore to myself that I was going to search by myself a solution to know who he was and what scared my mother so much.

  My mother was right, after a few days sulking, Marian came to talk to me.

  “I'm sorry”, she said, sitting next to me in the school cafeteria, putting down her tray on the table. “I reacted like a jerk, I didn't want to, I know it's not your fault, I was just angry and jealous, will you forgive me ?”

“Of course, I forgive you”, I answered her. “You're my best friend, you're a sister to me. I know you didn't mean this, I was just surprise. I'm so sorry that you don't have a soulmate.”

“That's okay”, she added, squeezing my hand. “I'll find someone without one eventually”, she laughed. “And what about you ? Did your mom look for you ? What does he look like ?”

 I glued my gaze to the floor, not knowing how to answer her.

 “I... I... I don't know”, I finally dropped after a few minutes. “My mom, she... she used her power to see, but when I asked about him, she seemed so afraid. When she was looking, at the beginning she was smiling and then, her expression changed, so quickly. She didn't say a word during the entire night, at least none about it.”

“What are you going to do about it ?”, she questioned. “Your mom is the only seeker we have under hand.”

“No, she's not, I am a seeker.”

“Yes, but you can't see your own soulmate. You told me yourself.”

“Promise me that you'll never say what I'm going to tell you.”

“I promise”, she answered.

“Pinky promise ?”, I asked, lifting my hand and stretching out my pinky finger.

“Pinky promise”, she said, her gaze not leaving mine as she wrapped her finger around mine.

“I read about a seeker that managed to see by herself who her soulmate was. But it's kinda, dangerous.”

“What do you mean dangerous ?”

“It means that I need to be looked after while I'm doing it.”

“You can count on me”, she said. “When do you want to do it ?”

“My mom leaves for the entire day on Saturday, you can come, we'll say that you stay for a sleepover, and we're doing it during the day.”

  The next Saturday, when my mother left home, Marian and I got up, ready to follow the plan.

 “Okay, so this is the plan”, I started to tell her, while I was putting a blanket on the floor. “I'm going to put some of my blood inside of that bowl, it'll have to be full enough for at least my hand to be completely inside of it. Once it'll be done, I'll lie down on the cover, put my hand inside the bowl and sort of fall asleep, but according to the journal of the seeker who did it, my 'sleep' is going to be restless. I need you next to me, to patch up my wound and to look after me and to wake me up if you see that something is going wrong.”

  Marian just nodded, a worried look in her eyes. I could see that she didn't agree with what I was about to do, but she promised, so she didn't stop me from doing that. I winced as I cut one of my wrists above the transparent bowl, watching my blood dripping into it. When there were enough, Marian patched me up and gave me some sugar water. Then, I took a breath and laid down on the blanket diving my hand inside the bloody bowl and closed my eyes, concentrating on what I wanted to see. For a minute, I could feel the world around me and suddenly, everything was dark, and I couldn't feel anything anymore.

  I don't know how long time passed before he appeared. First, I saw his back, broad shoulder, in an old military suit, World War II I might say and then, he turned around. He was gorgeous, the most handsome man I've even seen in my life, he took my breath away. White tanned skin, chestnuts hair, grey-blue piercing eyes with a sparkle and a sweet thing in them, plump red lips wearing the most exquisite smile I've seen and a strong sharped jaw, he's simply stunning. I felt my lips stretch at the view, almost sure that even in my 'sleep' I was doing it and imagining Marian laughing at the view. I held my hand to reach his face with my fingertips but retracted myself, remembering that this wasn't real, that this was only a dream. I'm searching for what my mom was so afraid of in that vision of heaven. Maybe the only weird thing is that that guy seems to live in the 1940s, which means that he would be something like one hundred when I'm going to meet him, then how am I supposed to have a baby with a very old man ? It's nonsense.

  Suddenly, the vision changed. I turned my head all around to see where I was. The world seemed to look like more the one I knew. There was some smoke around me, sound of gunshots and panicked screams. I wasn't seeing further than the tip of my nose but I felt it. When I turned to the presence I felt, I saw a figure strutting towards where I was. When the silhouette stepped field of view, I recognized him. It was the guy from just before, except that something had changed, the sweetness of his eyes was gone, the sparkle was off, they were filled of literally nothing, the smile on his lips was absent too, replaced by a neutral expression, his hair was also longer, and he had a stubble on his previous smooth cheeks. He continued to walk towards me, a gun in the hand, a hand finishing a grey metal arm and I wondered what could have happened to him, he then stopped mere inches from me and aimed it. I could almost feel the cold metal of the barrel on my forehead. I was scared and I could feel hot tears falling down my cheeks, even if none of that was real. He pulled the trigger and fired. The bullet passed through my head, without hurting me, but finished its race in someone behind me.

  I felt my whole body shaking and I my name coming from far away, softly at first, as if Marian was trying to wake me up from a nightmare and a few seconds later, someone spoke up, shouting my name. My eyes shot open and my mother is above me, anger on her face. My gaze searched for Marian, she was curled up in a corner, crying.

 “What were you thinking about ?!”, she shouted, anger left her face, her expression changing to a disappointed one. “Don't you know that this could be very dangerous ?! What would have happened if I hadn't noticed half-way that I forgot my files for the presentation I had in Boston today !”, she sighed and took a breath. “Now tell me, tell me why my daughter thought she had to bleed herself to see her soulmate ?”

“Because you wouldn't tell me about him”, I screamed back to her. “Every time I wanted to know, you shut me down, I needed to see, I needed to know, even if I know that he's going to leave me alone with a baby and that he's probably going to break my heart. I wanted to know mom, I wanted to see him, just because I don't want to be taken by surprise when I'm going to meet him. I heard about that seeker who found a way to look by herself because she had no one to read her destiny, so as you didn't want to tell me, I figured out that I could do it by myself and please don't blame Marian, she's here because I asked her to look after me. Please, mom, please forgive me”, I added my voice coming back to its usual tone, tears falling from my eyes.

  Without me to expect it, she wrapped her arms around me, and pulled my body to hers.

  “I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I just wanted to protect you. You're my only child, you're all I have in the world. I know that it was wrong. I should have told you”, she said, stroking my hair. “I was afraid of what I saw, death and violence, I didn't want that for you.”

“But it's too late mom, that's fate, that's my fate.”

  She started to cry too, burying her head in my hair, repeating over and over again that she was sorry that I was forced to carry this burden, that if she could, she would take that away from me. After a few minutes, she helped me to get on my feet and said that we were going to clean up the mess. I felt dizzy when I rose to my feet and my mother decided that Marian and I needed to eat something. She sat me on the couch and told Marian to take care of me while she was cooking.

  “What did you see ?”, she asked, sitting next to me when I laid my head on her shoulder, and while she was holding my hand, I told her everything.

  From that day, none of us talked about soulmates anymore, deciding to live our lives as if we didn't have one, which was easier for Marian, she could allow herself to fell in love when I couldn't, I didn't want to break someone's heart under the pretext that I was going to leave them to have a baby with my soulmate, I knew my grandma's story and I didn't want the same thing to happen to me.

 Marian eventually met someone during our senior year, a guy named Robin, I know you can't make this up, Marian and Robin. When she saw him in the school hallway, it was like no one else around existed and after I checked if he had or not a soulmate, just because I didn't want Marian to be disappointed and discovered that he didn't have one, I introduced them to each other, and Robin was smitten without even having talk to her.

  On my side, I was always looking at people's relationship from far away. I didn't want to start one that I knew was going to end as soon as I would meet my soulmate and still, it happened, I fell in love, madly and passionately in love.

  I met Ben when I was eighteen. I was studying literature : English, American, French, Indian, Japanese..., and he appeared in my life, suddenly, without me to expecting it. He didn't have a soulmate and I knew that he wasn't mine, but we were happy, really happy. He had dirty blond hair, green eyes and an Australian accent. He came to America for his studies, and we randomly met at a party where we grabbed the same cup at the same time. We started to talk, no soulmates involve, no powers involve, just two young adult, meeting like destiny wasn't written in advance. I tried to resist but, I was too attracted by Ben and his glow that it was impossible. Knowing that my life was going to be less happy and tougher during the next years, I let myself fall for Ben.

  I introduced him to my mother after four months of relationship, and when he left, she admitted that he was a nice boy and that she liked him, but she was worried. Worried about the next steps of our relation, worried about the fact that I would have to leave him someday, about the fact that the both of us will have a broken heart when I'll leave him or when he'll leave me, but I didn't want to think or talk about it, but I knew that it would happen someday.

 Three years passed and Ben and I settled together, still so in love, crazy about each other. For the surrounding people, not knowing about my powers and the seekers and soulmates things (well everybody knows about soulmates but not for seekers), we were the perfect couple. My mom died that year, lungs cancer. Before she passed, she advised me once again to leave Ben before it's too late, but once again, I didn't listen to her. I sorted her things, kept some, sold others and rented her little house in Brooklyn, the one I grew up in, the one she grew up in, the one my grandmother bought when my mother was a baby.

 But I knew that at some point, this would happen, and that it was selfish from me to keep Ben for myself. When we turned 25, he wanted us to have a baby when he perfectly knew that we couldn't have my first baby with someone else but my soulmate, but he thought that the fact that we loved each other as much as we did could change something about my fate. I wanted to believe him, I wanted to believe that I could have a baby with the man I loved, build a family with him, stay with Ben forever and be happy. So, I decided to try, and we did it again and again and again, but with no results. After almost a year of trying, I realized that Ben was more and more sad each time to see that I wasn't pregnant, I took the toughest decision of my life, leaving Ben to give him a chance to have a normal life. On that night, we had the worse fight we ever had in eight years of relationship.

 “Ben, can I talk to you for a second ?”, I asked sitting at the table.

“Sure babe”, he answered, sitting in front of me, taking my hand. “Are you sure that you're okay ? You seem a little pale and worried.”

 He squeezed my hand and narrowed his eyes to my face. I perfectly know what he saw at that moment, someone with all the colors drained of her face, someone determined to do something she doesn't want to do, someone who's going to break his heart into pieces.

 “I... I...”, I stammered.

“You ? Come on Y/N, tell me.”

“I'm leaving you Ben”, I finally spit out.

“Wha... What ?”, he asked, his eyes opening wide. “Wh... Why ? Aren't we happy ? Aren't you happy ? Is it something that I did ? Please, tell me, I'm going to change what I've done wrong.”

“Nothing, Ben, I swear to you, nothing. You... You're not the problem, I'm the problem.”

“Don't be silly babe, you're not a problem.”

“Of course, I am”, I shouted, rising on my feet. “I'm keeping you from having a normal life. I'm keeping you away from having what you really want, children. I can't give you what you want Ben. I'll never be able to give you what you want, not until I've met and had sex with my soulmate. Keeping you from a normal life is so selfish. I'm being selfish.”

“No, no you're not, because I know what your 'powers' include. I know that someday you're going to be inexplicably attracted to some man that you'd never met before and that you'll have sex with him and come back pregnant, I don't care. It's not going to matter for me.”

“But it will for me ! I can't do that to you. Do you really imagine yourself rising another man's child ? As I said, it would be selfish from me to force you to live all of this. So, we have no choice, we have to break up.”

“No, you are being selfish right now, wanting for force me to leave you, we will be able to go through this”, he came closer to me and cupped my face in his hands. “I love you, Y/N, more than I've ever loved someone, I don't want anyone else, so please, please don't make me do that”, he added, tears in his eyes, his forehead against mine. “Please don't leave me.”

“I love you too but, we're being both selfish, please Ben, you knew that that day was probably going to come at some point”, I told him, trying unsuccessfully to hold my tears. “I'm going to leave tomorrow morning, I called Marian earlier, and she's letting me crash at her home for a few days before I go back in my childhood house. The tenant is leaving in a few days and I'm going to settle back there and that's where I'm going to live when I'm going to have that baby. Don't try to retain me for doing it because, my decision is already taken. I'm so sorry. I'm going to start to pack my things and going at Marian and Robin's tomorrow morning with all my stuff.”

“Fine, if you want to leave and your decision is already taken and if you think that it's the best for us, I'll let you go. But, do me a favor, let's have a last night together, this night, I want us to say proper goodbyes.”

  I didn't answer, just nodded and Ben kissed me desperately. That night, we made love as if our lives depended on it, to keep inside of each other the memory of our skins, touches, moans and whispers. When the day came, Ben left before I woke up, letting me a note saying that he wouldn't bear to see me leave and that he would always love me. After a quick shower, I put the boxes containing all my belongings in the car and threw a last look to the apartment I shared with the man I loved for five years. If it's hard to leave someone you don't love, it's harder to leave someone you love.

  After spending the next week crying in my best friends' spare room, I moved back in that place that saw me grew up. This is what's going to be my new life now, alone until I meet my soulmate and have my baby girl. I had to start off on the right foot, I had to start something new.

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[fallforcs]

Am I Your Girlfriend?

Art by @liloproductions

Author: @onceuponaprincessworld

Summary: Emma never thought that she would stay for long in that new sleepy town, she was a foster kid after all. She also didn’t expect to fall in love, but here we are.

Rating: G, there is kissing.

I would like to thank my wonderful beta reader @hookedonapirate​ for all the help and support, without her this story would never have seen the light of day.

Also a big thank you to my amazing artist for creating the banner for the story, I love it!

She doesn’t know how it happened, but she is in love with Killian Jones!

It all started in September, the first day of school.

She was the new kid, and she tried to keep to herself and stay out of everyone’s way. Well, she tried, but she didn’t really succeed. Because she literally fell in someone’s arms.

“Oh, steady there,” he said in a british accent.

“Sorry.” Emma tried to go around him and leave.

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. “Are you new? I haven’t seen you before.”

“Yeah, first day actually,” she answered rather awkwardly.

“Then let me introduce myself - Killian Jones, sophomore.”

“Emma, Emma Swan. Also a sophomore.”

“Pleased to meet you,” he beamed at her. “Do you need any help getting around?”

“No, I am good,” she replied and left him alone at the hallway.

She thought that was the last she would see of him. But boy, was she wrong. It turned out, they had all the same classes. Like all of them. From Math, and English to History and Chemistry.

So, yeah, it wasn’t really her fault that they started hanging out. How could she not when they spent all of their time in school together?

On the plus side he fit in well with her small group of friends. Ruby, who she met in gym class and had become something like her best girlfriend. The raven haired teen thought he was funny and good to look at, and it didn’t hurt that she had her eyes for his friend, Victor. Even Graham, who helped her find her English class and who she started to consider as a friend,  though he was okay, and he was never easy to accept new people.

Eventually, they started to see each other outside of school as well. He took her to all of his favorite places around Storybrooke - Granny’s for milkshakes and onion rings, the movies because “Come on Swan, they’re playing a Harry Potter marathon,” and the docks to watch the boats. “They are ships, Swan.”

They were becoming fast friends, but that’s it, nothing more. Friends who spent all of their free time together or with their shared group of friends. And they liked hanging out with each other, and sharing their hopes and dreams and their pasts. Which was a first for Emma.

As the weather became colder, they spent all their time at Killian’s place. Emma’s foster parents were nice; Mary Margaret and David were doing their best to make her feel at home. But still, she liked to hang out at Killian’s house better. He lived with his big brother, Liam, who worked a lot, so it was usually the two of them. They watched movies, snuggling on the couch, doing their homework and having dinner together.

When Liam and his girlfriend  Elsa, were home, they all hung out together. They played board games or cooked. Her favorite pastime was watching Liam teasing Killian, like when he called him “little brother” and Killian corrected him, but he did so while smiling. She knew they cared a lot about each other because it was just the two of them.

To top it off, she didn’t feel like an intruder in their home; they always made sure she was comfortable and included. Emma felt at home there; she felt safe. She didn’t know why yet, but she was about to figure it out.  

During their Christmas break, she went to his house to hang out like usual. They were supposed to study as well since they had some math problems, and Emma could use his help for that. Math wasn’t her favorite subject.

Liam opened the door and welcomed her in.

“Hi Emma,” he greeted with a smile. “Killian is upstairs in his room. I will get him for you.”

“Thanks, Liam.” She moved to get her shoes off, hearing Liam calling from upstairs, “Killian, your girlfriend is here”.

She froze. Girlfriend? When did Killian got a girlfriend? Why hadn’t he said anything to her? Who was she? A sudden feeling of jealousy started taking over her. Did Ruby know? Was it Ruby? No, it couldn’t be. She was dating Victor.

Suddenly, she remembered an incident that happened at school before the break. Killian was on his way to his locker, and she went to surprise him when he stopped to talk to Tink, the cute blonde from history class who always wore mini skirts. Was she his girlfriend?

Just then Killian was coming down the stairs with a grin on his face.

“Hi love, I thought we could watch a movie or we could go out for a hot chocolate at Granny’s.”

Emma was still standing by the door, so he approached her and  touched her arm. “Swan, are you okay?”

She tried to smile and nod when the realisation hit her.

Liam was referring to her as his girlfriend.

She felt relief for a moment and then shock. Was she his girlfriend? Well sure, they spent all their time together, he always watched after her, she cared about him a lot, and yeah she loved him, but girlfriend? Realization hit her like a brick.

She loved him! She did love him. She was completely and totally in love with him.

Now that she’s able to admit it to herself, where does she go from here? She doesn’t know what to do.

She smiles at him and replies, “Yeah sure, let’s just watch a movie.” She spends the whole time thinking about it.

Killian senses she is distracted, but he knows sometimes she needs space before she can talk to him, and he accepts it.

By next week, she is still distracted and she keeps avoiding him.

He knows she went out with Ruby two days ago, because Victor came over to play video games and he told him. He even joked, asking him if they were having trouble in paradise. It’s not like they are a couple and they have to always be together or inform the other when one of them is having other plans, but they always talk about their plans.

He knows it’s just him she is avoiding. On the one hand, he is relieved she has her friend to talk to, but it still hurts that she doesn’t talk to him.

So he decides to confront her. He goes to her place, but she isn’t there. Her foster mom told him she went for a walk, so he knows there is only one place she could be.

It turns out, she is there, sitting on a bench by the lake, where he took her the first time they hung out, just the two of them, and he wanted to take her to all of his favorite places around town.

He stays for a moment admiring her from a distance, she is wearing a red coat and jeans, her hair is loose and she looks stunning. He takes a deep breath and starts walking towards her.

“Hey Swan, I thought I might find you here. Is everything alright?” he asks when he is at a hearing distance.

She jumps a bit at his voice. She was so lost in her thoughts, she didn’t heard him coming. She quickly recovers and answers.“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” She then gives him a fake smile.

“It’s just that we haven’t seen each other a lot this week and I have a feeling you are avoiding me” he admits, and there is a hint of pain in his voice.

She hurt him, but she doesn’t want to hurt him. She loves him, and she doesn’t know if he feels the same.

“Everything is fine, Jones. It’s just a bit busy with the holidays and stuff.”

“All right then,” he murmurs, and she knows he doesn’t believe her. He always was able to read her like an open book. “Are we still on for New Years?”

They had made plans some time ago. He and Liam would go to her place and spend New Year’s Eve with her family. And on New Years they would all share dinner together.

Her foster parents had invited them over after Thanksgiving when they found out that it would be just the two of them. Mary Margaret said with the time they spent together, it would be rude to separate them on such a holiday, and Liam had accepted their invitation since he wasn’t much of a cook.

“Yes, my foster parents are all over the preparations. You should see how many recipes Mary Margaret has searched through in order to find the perfect one for a New Year’s pie.”

“Okay. What do you want to do now?” he asks, afraid she prefers to stay there alone.

“Am I your girlfriend?” she blurts out, and manages to leave him speechless.

“Uh… hem…” he coughs. “Excuse me, Swan?”, he says while scratching behind his ear.

“It’s just that… nothing. Forget about it,” she says and turns around to get up and leave. But Killian is quicker and puts his hand on her arm before she does so.

“Emma, please don’t hide from me. Do you want to be my girlfriend?”  he asks with a shy smile and his heart is beating so fast he thinks it might explode.

“Liam called me your girlfriend the other day. So am I?”

“Do you want to be?”

She doesn’t meet his eyes, and instead she looks at her hands in her lap

“Because I would want nothing more than to be able to call you my girlfriend. To be able to kiss you as I’ve thought about so many times before. To hold your hand and hold you in my arms. You are so beautiful, Emma, inside and out, and…”

He doesn’t get to finish his thoughts before Emma leaps forward and kisses him. It takes him a moment to react, and he kisses her back, as he’s dreamt of doing so many times before.

When they break the kiss and  touch their foreheads together, he asks breathlessly. “So, what do you say Swan, am I your boyfriend?”

Her “Yes” is answered between kisses.

8 Years later:

They exchange vows at the very same lake where they shared their first kiss. Mary Margaret and David, her now adoptive parents are sitting near Liam and his wife, Elsa. Their friends are all there to witness this important moment of their lives.

After the minister pronounced them husband and wife, just before Killian bends his head to kiss her, he whispers, “Am I your husband, Swan?”

Her answer is once again swallowed by his kiss.

And she couldn’t be happier that she is madly in love with Killian Jones.

The End.

[onceuponaprincessworld]

Am I Your Girlfriend?

Hi, I wrote a fic!! I know I am as suprised as probably you are! I still can’t believe it. I would like to thank @fallforcs, the anonimity of this event gave me the push I needed to publish my little story! 

I would like to thank my wonderful beta reader @hookedonapirate for all the help and support, without her this story would never have seen the light of day.

Also a big thank you to @liloproductions, my amazing artist for creating the banner for the story, I love it!

And a big thank you to everyone who had read it and for all your sweet comments, you guys are the best!! 

Also on Ao3 and FFN. 

Summary: Emma never thought that she would stay for long in that new sleepy town, she was a foster kid after all. She also didn't expect to fall in love, but here we are.

Rating: G, there is kissing.

She doesn’t know how it happened, but she is in love with Killian Jones!

It all started in September, the first day of school.

She was the new kid, and she tried to keep to herself and stay out of everyone’s way. Well, she tried, but she didn’t really succeed. Because she literally fell in someone’s arms.

“Oh, steady there,” he said in a british accent.

“Sorry.” Emma tried to go around him and leave.

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. “Are you new? I haven’t seen you before.”

“Yeah, first day actually,” she answered rather awkwardly.

“Then let me introduce myself - Killian Jones, sophomore.”

“Emma, Emma Swan. Also a sophomore.”

“Pleased to meet you,” he beamed at her. “Do you need any help getting around?”

“No, I am good,” she replied and left him alone at the hallway.

She thought that was the last she would see of him. But boy, was she wrong. It turned out, they had all the same classes. Like all of them. From Math, and English to History and Chemistry.

So, yeah, it wasn’t really her fault that they started hanging out. How could she not when they spent all of their time in school together?

On the plus side he fit in well with her small group of friends. Ruby, who she met in gym class and had become something like her best girlfriend. The raven haired teen thought he was funny and good to look at, and it didn't hurt that she had her eyes for his friend, Victor. Even Graham, who helped her find her English class and who she started to consider as a friend,  though he was okay, and he was never easy to accept new people.

Eventually, they started to see each other outside of school as well. He took her to all of his favorite places around Storybrooke - Granny’s for milkshakes and onion rings, the movies because “Come on Swan, they’re playing a Harry Potter marathon,” and the docks to watch the boats. “They are ships, Swan.”

They were becoming fast friends, but that’s it, nothing more. Friends who spent all of their free time together or with their shared group of friends. And they liked hanging out with each other, and sharing their hopes and dreams and their pasts. Which was a first for Emma.

As the weather became colder, they spent all their time at Killian’s place. Emma’s foster parents were nice; Mary Margaret and David were doing their best to make her feel at home. But still, she liked to hang out at Killian’s house better. He lived with his big brother, Liam, who worked a lot, so it was usually the two of them. They watched movies, snuggling on the couch, doing their homework and having dinner together.

When Liam and his girlfriend  Elsa, were home, they all hung out together. They played board games or cooked. Her favorite pastime was watching Liam teasing Killian, like when he called him “little brother” and Killian corrected him, but he did so while smiling. She knew they cared a lot about each other because it was just the two of them.

To top it off, she didn't feel like an intruder in their home; they always made sure she was comfortable and included. Emma felt at home there; she felt safe. She didn’t know why yet, but she was about to figure it out.  

During their Christmas break, she went to his house to hang out like usual. They were supposed to study as well since they had some math problems, and Emma could use his help for that. Math wasn’t her favorite subject.

Liam opened the door and welcomed her in.

“Hi Emma,” he greeted with a smile. “Killian is upstairs in his room. I will get him for you.”

“Thanks, Liam.” She moved to get her shoes off, hearing Liam calling from upstairs, “Killian, your girlfriend is here”.

She froze. Girlfriend? When did Killian got a girlfriend? Why hadn't he said anything to her? Who was she? A sudden feeling of jealousy started taking over her. Did Ruby know? Was it Ruby? No, it couldn't be. She was dating Victor.

Suddenly, she remembered an incident that happened at school before the break. Killian was on his way to his locker, and she went to surprise him when he stopped to talk to Tink, the cute blonde from history class who always wore mini skirts. Was she his girlfriend?

Just then Killian was coming down the stairs with a grin on his face.

“Hi love, I thought we could watch a movie or we could go out for a hot chocolate at Granny’s.”

Emma was still standing by the door, so he approached her and  touched her arm. “Swan, are you okay?”

She tried to smile and nod when the realisation hit her.

Liam was referring to her as his girlfriend.

She felt relief for a moment and then shock. Was she his girlfriend? Well sure, they spent all their time together, he always watched after her, she cared about him a lot, and yeah she loved him, but girlfriend? Realization hit her like a brick.

She loved him! She did love him. She was completely and totally in love with him.

Now that she’s able to admit it to herself, where does she go from here? She doesn’t know what to do.

She smiles at him and replies, “Yeah sure, let’s just watch a movie.” She spends the whole time thinking about it.

Killian senses she is distracted, but he knows sometimes she needs space before she can talk to him, and he accepts it.

By next week, she is still distracted and she keeps avoiding him.

He knows she went out with Ruby two days ago, because Victor came over to play video games and he told him. He even joked, asking him if they were having trouble in paradise. It’s not like they are a couple and they have to always be together or inform the other when one of them is having other plans, but they always talk about their plans.

He knows it’s just him she is avoiding. On the one hand, he is relieved she has her friend to talk to, but it still hurts that she doesn’t talk to him.

So he decides to confront her. He goes to her place, but she isn’t there. Her foster mom told him she went for a walk, so he knows there is only one place she could be.

It turns out, she is there, sitting on a bench by the lake, where he took her the first time they hung out, just the two of them, and he wanted to take her to all of his favorite places around town.

He stays for a moment admiring her from a distance, she is wearing a red coat and jeans, her hair is loose and she looks stunning. He takes a deep breath and starts walking towards her.

“Hey Swan, I thought I might find you here. Is everything alright?” he asks when he is at a hearing distance.

She jumps a bit at his voice. She was so lost in her thoughts, she didn’t heard him coming. She quickly recovers and answers.“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” She then gives him a fake smile.

“It’s just that we haven’t seen each other a lot this week and I have a feeling you are avoiding me” he admits, and there is a hint of pain in his voice.

She hurt him, but she doesn’t want to hurt him. She loves him, and she doesn’t know if he feels the same.

“Everything is fine, Jones. It’s just a bit busy with the holidays and stuff.”

“All right then,” he murmurs, and she knows he doesn’t believe her. He always was able to read her like an open book. “Are we still on for New Years?”

They had made plans some time ago. He and Liam would go to her place and spend New Year’s Eve with her family. And on New Years they would all share dinner together.

Her foster parents had invited them over after Thanksgiving when they found out that it would be just the two of them. Mary Margaret said with the time they spent together, it would be rude to separate them on such a holiday, and Liam had accepted their invitation since he wasn’t much of a cook.

“Yes, my foster parents are all over the preparations. You should see how many recipes Mary Margaret has searched through in order to find the perfect one for a New Year’s pie.”

“Okay. What do you want to do now?” he asks, afraid she prefers to stay there alone.

“Am I your girlfriend?” she blurts out, and manages to leave him speechless.

“Uh… hem...” he coughs. “Excuse me, Swan?”, he says while scratching behind his ear.

“It’s just that… nothing. Forget about it,” she says and turns around to get up and leave. But Killian is quicker and puts his hand on her arm before she does so.

“Emma, please don’t hide from me. Do you want to be my girlfriend?”  he asks with a shy smile and his heart is beating so fast he thinks it might explode.

“Liam called me your girlfriend the other day. So am I?”

“Do you want to be?”

She doesn’t meet his eyes, and instead she looks at her hands in her lap

“Because I would want nothing more than to be able to call you my girlfriend. To be able to kiss you as I’ve thought about so many times before. To hold your hand and hold you in my arms. You are so beautiful, Emma, inside and out, and…”

He doesn’t get to finish his thoughts before Emma leaps forward and kisses him. It takes him a moment to react, and he kisses her back, as he’s dreamt of doing so many times before.

When they break the kiss and  touch their foreheads together, he asks breathlessly. “So, what do you say Swan, am I your boyfriend?”

Her “Yes” is answered between kisses.

8 Years later:

They exchange vows at the very same lake where they shared their first kiss. Mary Margaret and David, her now adoptive parents are sitting near Liam and his wife, Elsa. Their friends are all there to witness this important moment of their lives.

After the minister pronounced them husband and wife, just before Killian bends his head to kiss her, he whispers, “Am I your husband, Swan?”

Her answer is once again swallowed by his kiss.

And she couldn’t be happier that she is madly in love with Killian Jones.

The End.

[waveypedia]

OKAY SOFT ANGST I AM HERE FOR THE ANGST LIKE OH BOY GIMME THE ANGST (*cough* If possible I'd love to see "Don't talk. Save your strength" between Uno and Donald. Only if you WANT to or feel like you can, though. If not, "It's all been a lie, hasn't it?" between Donald and Scrooge works

I’m really sorry, I know you love Uno and there isn’t much fanfic of him, or Duno, out there. But the Donald and Scrooge prompt really spoke to me. I’m a sucker for their angst, haha. I might write something Duno for you later, though!

–

It’s all been a lie, hasn’t it?

“It’s all been a lie, hasn’t it?” Donald asked, his tone eerily calm. “You don’t care about your family. You never have. You never cared about Mom, or me, or the kids. You only want adventuring partners that you don’t have to pay.” The younger duck clenched a rock in his fist, squeezing tighter and tighter. His knuckles were white, and the rock’s sharp edges were slicing small cuts into his delicate hand, but he didn’t care. “I was a fool to ever think you’d care about us, and I was a fool to bring the boys back into your life.”

“No,” Scrooge snapped, stiffening. “That- that’s nae true.” He leaned heavily on his cane, pressing the tip hard into the uneven ground. “Ah always cared about ye. Ah still do.”

Donald pressed his back onto the stone wall and stared at the wall across from him instead of Scrooge. “You brought four ten-year-olds on a dangerous adventure. If you really cared about them, you would let them be safe.”

“The world isn’t safe, Donald!” Scrooge snapped. “You can’t protect them forever!”

“Their world would be a lot safer without you in it!” Donald shot back.

“At least I can give them a stable home and fill their bellies!” Scrooge nearly clapped his hands over his mouth. His knuckles whitened on his cane and he snapped his mouth shut, staring at the ground.

Donald crossed his arms and set his jaw, but stayed quiet.

They waited like that, in tense silence, for a few moments.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Scrooge whispered gruffly after a few moments. His belly was churning and even though he meant the words with all of his heart, it still felt like he was wrenching open his jaw and yanking the words from deep inside. “That was a low blow. Ye’ve done more fo’ those boys than Ah ever have.”

Donald pursed his lips. “No, you’re right,” he replied after a moment, sighing heavily. Scrooge flinched at the familiar tone of defeat. “That’s more important.”

“It’s not,” Scrooge insisted. “They barely know me. Part of them still resents me. And they’re right to.”

“You’re the cool uncle,” Donald mumbled.

Scrooge sighed. “That’s only because they think of ye as their dad.”

Donald smirked. “I suppose,” he replied sarcastically, his tone light and fleeting.”

Scrooge drew himself up, a new purpose entering his words. “Ah mean it. Ye are th’ only parent they’ve ever known.”

“It really shouldn’t be that way,” Donald replied, casting his gaze towards Scrooge for the first time in the conversation.

Scrooge huffed. “Aye. But it is.”

Donald glared at him. “Says the man who spent ten years grieving. Suddenly I should just accept it and move on?! You did a great job with that.”

“You’re the one who taught me that,” Scrooge replied quietly, not meeting his nephew’s eyes.

Donald jerked away from the wall, his eyebrows raised. “What?”

Scrooge hooked his cane over his arm and crossed them. “Ye didnae grieve. Ye jumped right in ta raising the boys. And they turned out wonderfully. Meanwhile, Ah paced around ma house lost in grief and didnae ever try ta contact ye or meet the boys. Ah had a business that needed ta be run and a little niece running around ma house but Ah paced and grieved. For ten years. And ever after Ah met the boys and started ta adventure again, there are still days where Ah feel like pacing an’ grieving again, or one of the boys, or Webby, or even ye do something or say something or just remind me of her. All over again. But Ah stay bright and continue with ma life because Ah see that ye do, and Ah know that’s what she would want me ta do.” He sighed heavily. “But it’s mostly ye.”

“Oh,” Donald replied. “I, uh, I didn’t know that.”

Scrooge crossed his arms. “Ta be honest, Ah didnae really want ye to.”

“Why?” Donald asked, turning to face his uncle, the fire in his eyes renewed with new intensity. “Are you that scared of your own family? Or do you just want to pretend it never happened? That she didn’t exist? That Huey, Dewey, and Louie didn’t spend ten years not knowing Scrooge McDuck is their uncle? That you can just decide to move on? That it’s that easy?” Tears pricked at his eyes and he turned away from his uncle’s gaze a moment too late, biting down hard on his lower lip.

“The boys not knowing wasn’t my fault,” Scrooge replied after a moment.

“You never even tried to contact them,” Donald replied bitterly.

“We both know ye never would have let me anywhere near them,” Scrooge shot back, but the anger was fading from his voice.

Donald chuckled, humorlessly and bitterly. “With good reason.”

Scrooge sighed heavily and leaned back, rubbing at his forehead. “Maybe we should tell the boys. Get it all out in the open.”

Donald sighed heavily. “Yeah, maybe. Dewey has been getting pretty suspicious lately.”

Scrooge chuckled dryly. “The lad always is the most like his mother.”

Donald smiled sadly. “He is.”

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, their thoughts settling heavily around them, but for the first time in over ten years it was a comfortable silence, albeit a sad one.

Then there was a loud crash and a rock dropped swiftly from the ceiling right between the two. The two ducks yelped in shock and dropped to the floor. Probably on instinct, Donald shot over to Scrooge and the older duck covered his nephew’s head with his hands.

Clouds of stone dust floated around, disguising the two ducks and the large duck who was now poking his head through the whole in the ceiling. Donald hacked and coughed, clutching his throat, and Scrooge silently handed the younger duck his canteen before returning to swat away the smoke.

Donald took it after a moment and drank up. The smoke cleared, revealing Launchpad and now Huey, Dewey, Louie, and Webby, the same worried and relieved expression mirrored on all five of their faces.

Huey immediately whipped out his Junior Woodchuck Guidebook. “Are you hurt? What kind of injury?”

Launchpad reached a hand down, which Scrooge gratefully accepted. “Ah, there you are, Mr. McDee, Mr. Dee! I’ve already had to open five caverns! It’s not hard. It kind of like a crash.”

Scrooge coughed and stepped aside so Launchpad could help Donald up. “Aye, thank ye, Launchpad. The temple must not be in good shape.”

Louie shrugged. “Not really. It’s all crumbly and gray.”

Scrooge sighed. “Mebbe we should head back then.”

Donald shot Scrooge a surprised, grateful glance.

Louie sighed in relief. “Ooh, can we? I want pizza!”

Scrooge and Donald both sighed in unison.

Dewey was quick to jump on his brother’s bandwagon. “Ooh! Me! I want pizza too!”

“I’d rather have a hamburger,” Webby added thoughtfully. “I’ve never actually tried pizza.”

“Ohhhh, you have to! It’s amazing!” Dewey jumped in next to her, excitedly explaining all the good things about pizza.

“Oh, great,” Scrooge grumbled. “Her granny is never going ta forgive me.”

“They’ve been doing this for every kind of junk food imaginable,” Donald sighed. Scrooge hadn’t noticed when they started walking together. “If I ever turn up dead, you know why.”

Surprised, Scrooge began to laugh, and after a minute, so did Donald. It was awkward and a little bit forced, but nowhere near the hostility they’d been experiencing a few hours ago.

Shaking his head in awe, Scrooge let his laugh grow until it caught Huey’s attention.

Maybe talking did solve problems after all.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Once Upon A Different Time Episode 322: “Fixed”

Catch up on previous episodes:

=====

Season 3A episodes 1-11

Episode 312: “New York, New York”

Episode 313: “Monkey Business”

Episode 314: “The Wonderful Wizard”

Episode 315: “Cardinal Points”

Episode 316: “The Vault”

Episode 317: “Poles Apart”

Episode 318: “Love, Wisdom and Bravery”

Episode 319: “A Single Strand of Silk”

Episode 320: “Like Father, Like Son”

Episode 321: “Follow the Yellow Brick Road”

=====

Once Upon A Different Time

Episode 322: “Fixed”

Oregon – Past

“Neal, where even are we?”

“You’ll see. Just keep a lookout.”

They were in a dingy back alley surrounded by dumpsters that smelled suspiciously of popcorn, and Emma was beginning to think that she knew what was going on. She leaned back against the wall as Neal fiddled with a fire escape door that had no visible means of opening it from the outside. She certainly couldn’t deny that she’d had a good few days since she’d met him, and it was infinitely easier for two teens on their own to survive together rather than apart.

“We’re breaking into a cinema, aren’t we?” Emma asked.

“Yes, indeed we are. Have you still got that screwdriver?”

Emma handed it over. “You know, I’m sure that there are easier ways to get inside cinemas without paying for a ticket.”

“There are, but none of them give you as good a view.” The door opened a fraction and Neal heaved it the rest of the way, waving Emma inside with a little bow.

“So, what are we going to see?” she asked as they picked their way through a labyrinth of little corridors, ducking out of view of the CCTV cameras. Neal had obviously done it before, so Emma just let him take the lead, until they were sitting in a hidden area at the back of the theatre, just under the projectionist.

It was a great view, Emma had to admit that.

“No idea,” Neal said cheerfully. “Whatever’s on.”

It turned out that the cinema was having a classics afternoon, and the film was The Wizard of Oz. Emma had seen it before, but she still watched with rapt attention until the end credits were rolling.

“No place like home, huh,” she muttered. “God knows where the slippers would take me. What about you?”

Neal looked thoughtful for a long time, and Emma was beginning to think that he wasn’t going to answer.

“With my dad, I guess,” he said eventually.

“I thought you hated your dad.”

“I did. I do. But I love him too, and it wasn’t always bad. I miss the good parts. I miss the good in him more than anything. It never mattered how dire the circumstances got. I had him, and he had me, and that was what made it home. People, not a place.”

Emma mulled it over.

“I don’t think I have a home,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever had one.”

“Sometimes you don’t know it’s home till you’re not there anymore. One day you find yourself missing it, and then you realise that was home.”

Emma fell silent. Neal and the bug were the closest thing to a home that she’d even known, and she didn’t want to think about the possibility of losing them.

 Storybrooke – Present

Regina looked at the neat stack of boxes on her desk and took a deep breath. She’d been meaning to do this ever since Neverland and the horrible experience of having her shadow taken whilst she was there, but there had always been more pressing circumstances that had prevented her from following through on her plan. Now that Zelena was out of the picture and things had calmed down a bit, she could get back to it.

She opened the first box and took out the softly pulsing heart within. She had no idea whose heart was whose anymore, so there was really only one very quick way to find out easily and with the minimum of fuss.

Regina held up the heart and spoke to it directly.

“Please come to the mayor’s office at your earliest convenience.”

A moment later, there was a knock at the door, and Regina startled. She hadn’t expected it to be quite that quick.

“Who is it?”

“Henry.”

Regina hastily put the heart back in its box and closed the lid.

“Come in.”

Henry entered bearing a bag with a take-out sandwich from Granny’s.

“I brought you some lunch; you’ve been in here all morning. Also, Belle called. She and Rumpelstiltskin are hoping to reach Dorothy by the end of the day.” Henry paused, taking in the boxes. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Regina said, slightly too brightly. “Just some housekeeping, that’s all.”

“I’ve read the story book enough times, Mom. I know that those are your heart boxes.”

Regina slumped in her chair a little.

“I’m trying to give them all back,” she said. “But I’ve got no idea whom any of them belong to anymore, so I don’t want anyone to know that I’m giving them back or the office will be mobbed. I have to do them one at a time or I might end up with the wrong hearts in the wrong bodies.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be good,” Henry agreed. “But I think that you’re doing a really good thing by returning them.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It shows how much you’ve changed from the Evil Queen. You could just have decided not to use them anymore, but by giving them back, you’re actively trying to make amends, and own up to the person that you were before instead of trying to ignore it.”

Regina smiled, feeling warmth suffuse her veins.

“Thank you, Henry. That means a lot.”

The door was still open from Henry’s arrival and a young man came up to it, looking slightly dazed and confused.

“Sorry, Madam Mayor,” he said. “I’ve got no idea why I’m here. I’ll leave you in peace.”

“No, no.” Regina grabbed the heart box and rushed around the desk before the man could leave. She recognised him as one of her black knights from back in the Enchanted Forest. “No, it’s all right. I asked you to come here.”

“You did?”

“Yes.” Regina held up the heart and the man’s eyes widened. “It’s high time that I returned this; you’ve been without it for too long.”

She pushed the heart back into its rightful place and waited with bated breath. The guard blinked a couple of times, then a smile spread across his face.

“It’s been gone so long I’d forgotten it was missing,” he said. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“It’s really the least I can do after taking it from you in the first place. I’m very sorry for what I did to you.”

The man went on his way with a noticeably lighter step, and Regina went back to the desk.

“You see, it’s not that hard to do good,” Henry said sagely. Regina shook her head.

“Somehow I don’t think that they’re all going to be as accepting as that one,” she said. “There are a lot of hearts, and the balance of probabilities says that some of them are definitely going to be angry.”

“Heroes don’t do the right thing because it’s easy,” Henry pointed out. “They do it because it’s the right thing.”

“Yes, you’re right.” Regina took the next heart out of its box. “Please come to the mayor’s office at your earliest convenience.”

Regina took a bite out of her sandwich, and she and Henry continued to eat in silence for a while as they waited for heart’s owner to make an appearance.

“So, have you thought about what’s going to happen once we get Emma and Neal back from Oz?” Regina asked presently. It wasn’t something that she particularly wanted to ask because she feared the answer, but she knew that it was a conversation that needed to be had.

“You mean in terms of where we’re going to live?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t discussed it with anyone yet. I haven’t really had chance. I want to stay here. This is where I grew up and where I spent most of my life, and I have friends and family here. You and my dad are here, and I don’t want to lose either of you. It’s more a question of whether Mom wants to go back to New York or not. I’m hoping that she’ll want to stay here, but I know she’s made a life for herself in New York and she might not want to give that up.”

“I don’t know,” Regina said. “She seemed pretty happy to stay here in Storybrooke before, during the first curse. This wouldn’t be the first time that she’s uprooted in order to be with you and the rest of her family.”

“I know, but so much has happened since then. Storybrooke doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to a safe place to live, if the number of strange portals are anything to go by. I really wouldn’t try to sell it as a tourist destination. And then there are other things to think of, besides her wanting to stay close for me.”

“Like what?”

“Well, Mary Margaret and David have little Lance now,” Henry pointed out. “Emma has a sibling who’s going to get to grow up with his parents in a way that she never did. I’m sure that she might have some mixed feelings about that.”

“That’s a good point.” Regina sighed. “It’s a bad situation for me to think about because it’s not Mary Margaret and David’s fault that Emma never got to grow up with her family. That’s all on me.”

“At least you’re trying to make amends now,” Henry said. “But I think it’s something that Emma might have a hard time getting over.”

“It’s true that her relationships with Mary Margaret and David were always the closest that she had in the town, and now they’ll be irrevocably changed. But you’ve both got a lot of other friends here. I think that Emma’s a lot more beloved and respected in the town than she realises. Maybe once she knows how many friends she really has here, she’ll be more inclined to stay. And I get the feeling that Neal at least does want to try and make things work between them, so there’s that as well.”

“Yeah. I just really want us all to be able to stay in the same place, you know? I want to be with my family. All my family.”

Regina smiled. “Thanks Henry.”

There was a knock on the doorframe and David poked his head around it. Regina looked down at the heart box and then up at David.

“Well, I know that this definitely isn’t yours.”

David came into the office, looking from the stack of heart boxes to Regina to Henry and back again.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Something that’s been very long overdue, and if I don’t start it now, it’ll never get done,” Regina replied calmly. “I’m returning all the hearts that I took.”

“Right.” David looked at the boxes again. “That’s very admirable, Regina, but don’t we have a slightly bigger problem to deal with here? Emma and Neal are trapped in Oz and we need to get them back!”

“We are getting them back. Belle and Rumpelstiltskin are on their way to get the silver slippers right now and by this evening we should have an update from them.”

“But what if it doesn’t work?” David exclaimed. “What if they get there and Dorothy doesn’t have the slippers, or their theory of sending them back to Oz with the lost and found potion turns out to be wrong? We need a back-up plan.”

“And we will think of one,” Regina said. “Believe it or not, I can multi-task, and whilst I’m waiting for the hearts’ owners to arrive, I can think of other things as well.”

“Regina, this is important! My daughter is missing! Gold’s son is missing! Henry’s parents are missing!”

“I know that, David, I’m not stupid, but we can’t expect to just drop everything whenever a catastrophe happens, which in this town is remarkably regularly. Last time Emma and Mary Margaret went missing after the first curse break, the town ended up in chaos. Poor Billy was murdered, and Ruby took the blame. We can’t let that chaos descend again, David. I know you’re worried about Emma and Neal, I am too, but we can’t just forget everything else for them. You’re a king, David, you should know that. I’m still mayor of this town and I still have a duty to make sure it’s taken care of, and that includes all of its citizens, not just the ones who’ve been swept up in a tornado. Emma is important, I am not saying that she’s not, but everyone else is important too. We can’t just forget about the rest of Storybrooke.”

It was clear that David was trying to come up with a counter-argument and failing. Regina could sympathise with him. He and Mary Margaret had been through so much over the last couple of days and naturally he was worried about Emma.

“Grandpa, why don’t we do and talk to Jefferson about alternative ways to get to Oz and leave Mom to take care of the rest of the town,” Henry suggested. “That way we get the best of both worlds. We’re already researching in case Belle and Rumpelstiltskin’s method doesn’t work, and you can concentrate on Neal and Emma, and Storybrooke is still in the hands of a capable authority figure.”

David nodded.

“Yes, that’s a good idea. Thanks, Henry. Thank you, Regina. I’m sorry; I know everyone else in important too, it’s just…”

“It’s ok. I understand. I’ll see you for dinner later, Henry, ok? I’m making apple pie.”

Henry grinned. “I’m looking forward to it.”

They left the office and Regina settled back to finish her sandwich and continue the long-winded process of returning the hearts. A moment after David and Henry were gone, Robin came in.

“Hello,” he said. “I was coming to ask if you knew of any empty property in Storybrooke that I could move the Merry Men into, and I couldn’t help overhearing some of the conversation.”

“Well, most of the property in town is in Gold’s name, but I can take a look at the deeds and we should be able to come to an agreement with him when he’s back.”

“Thank you. By the way, I think you’re doing the right thing, keeping the town going like this. Everyone needs an unflappable leader in times of crisis.”

Regina smiled. “Thank you.”

They weren’t very far apart, and for a moment, Regina thought that they were leaning in for a kiss. Then she remembered Marian, and Robin’s ignorance of his wife’s fate at Regina’s own hands, and she pulled away.

Robin frowned. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes, I just…” Regina sighed. “There’s something I have to tell you, but I’m still too much of a coward right now.”

“Ok…” Robin raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’ll be ready when you are.”

He left the room, and Regina rested her forehead on her desk with a groan.

 Oz – Present

For all their small stature, the munchkins certainly looked ferocious enough to be scary, and the fact that Neal and Emma were squashed into a cell that was designed for people a lot shorter than them wasn’t really helping matters. It was clear that the munchkins weren’t going to leave them alone until they got some answers, so Neal and Emma were going to have to talk their way out of this one pretty quickly.

Neal and Emma had done their fair share of talking their way out of things back when they had been teenagers on the run, but there was something in the implacable munchkins’ faces that made it obvious that just spinning a yarn and hoping for the best wasn’t going to fly.

“I’m sorry for whatever it was that Dorothy did to you,” Emma began, “but we don’t know her.”

The leader of the munchkins stepped forward.

“You know of her, though, don’t you?”

Emma nodded. “Yes. The land that we came from in the tornado is a land without magic. All of the things that happened in other worlds, like Oz, are written down and told as fairy tales for children. No-one there thinks that they’re real.”

The munchkin lowered his crossbow and leaned on it as he pondered their story.

“So how come you know they’re real?”

“Because we’re not originally from the Land Without Magic,” Neal said. “Emma and I originally come from the Enchanted Forest.”

At the mention of the Enchanted Forest, a murmur went around the gathered munchkins. Their leader hissed at them to be quiet.

“How did you end up in the Land Without Magic?” he asked.

“There was a curse,” Emma said. “It took a lot of people from the Enchanted Forest and transported them to the Land Without Magic.”

“And who cast this curse?” The munchkin was leaning in now, both wary and intrigued, as eager to try and catch them out as he was to learn more about them. Emma decided that honesty was probably the best policy here.

“There were two. The first was cast by Regina, the Evil Queen. The second was cast by Zelena, your Wicked Witch of the West.”

There was another rumble of conversation, and the munchkin leader went over to his comrades. Emma couldn’t make out what they were saying but the bits that she could hear were encouraging.

“…telling the truth… Enchanted Forest portal jumpers… where Zelena went after she left Oz… the Wizard… Dorothy…”

The huddle broke up and the munchkin leader came over. “We accept your story so far,” he said. “But there are some other things still to clear up. If, as you say, you know Dorothy’s tale as a fairy story, then surely you know what she did.”

Emma shook her head. “She came to Oz with a tornado, killed the Wicked Witch of the East, the munchkins rejoiced, she followed the yellow brick road to see the wizard who turned out to be a fraud, and Glinda the Good Witch gave her silver slippers which took her home.”

The munchkin scoffed. “Your fairy tale writers are delusional,” he said, completely matter of fact. “For a start, the witch of the east wasn’t wicked. She was the sweetest of the four by a long way. It was a dark day indeed when she was taken from us and I can assure you that not a single munchkin rejoiced. You’re right, the wizard was a fraud, but Glinda didn’t give Dorothy the slippers. They weren’t hers to give. They were Zelena’s. Dorothy stole them and left us munchkins to fend for ourselves in a war against the Wicked Witch of the West that we couldn’t hope to win.”

“Right.” Emma and Neal looked at each other. “That’s definitely not the version of the story that we were told.”

“Well, now you have been told. And between the wizard and Dorothy, I think you can understand our distrust of strangers blown in on tornados.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah, I can see that. But honestly, we just want to get home.”

“Dorothy and the wizard just wanted to get home too,” the munchkin leader said darkly.

“Look, maybe we can come to some sort of arrangement,” Neal said. “Zelena’s not here in Oz right now. We know that she came from Oz to the Enchanted Forest and from there to the Land Without Magic.”

“Who’s to say that she won’t come back in the same way that you got here?” the munchkin snapped. “Tornado transportation is becoming a regular occurrence in these parts and I for one am sick of it.”

“I can quite sympathise,” Neal said. “But Zelena’s not going to come back here.”

“You can vouch for that?”

“She’s dead,” Emma said.

“Are you absolutely sure of that?” The munchkins weren’t convinced, and whilst Emma could understand why they were so wary, she didn’t know how she could get past their sheer stubbornness and get them on the same side.

“She had been defeated,” Emma began again.

“That’s not dead.”

“I’m not finished! She had been defeated and her magic was oppressed. She’d found a way to get her magic back, but at great injury to herself. She was dying when she created the tornado we were caught in and she wouldn’t have lasted much longer. The others in the Land Without Magic will have finished the job.” Emma thought of Rumpelstiltskin and of the anger rolling off him whilst Neal had restrained him. Without Neal there, with him gone at Zelena’s hand, she dreaded to think what he might do.

“Wait.” The munchkin looked less suspicious and more curious now. “You said that Zelena created the tornado.”

“Yes. She was trying to come back here, but she failed.”

“And you say that she was close to death.”

“Yes.”

“So, she won’t be creating any more tornados?”

“Unlikely.”

The lead munchkin was lost in thought for a long time, then motioned for one of his comrades to unlock their cell.

“You’re letting us go?” Emma asked hopefully.

“Not exactly. We need to test the truth of your story, but there’s an easy way to do that, if long-winded.”

“Follow the yellow brick road?” Neal suggested, only half in jest. The munchkin leader looked at him incredulously.

“Why would we go and see the wizard?” he asked. “He’s a fraud and he’s not in Oz anymore.”

“He’s dead too,” Emma said. She thought of Walsh’s body on the floor of the sheriff’s station. “He’s definitely dead.”

The cell was unlocked, and Emma and Neal shuffled out on hands and knees, crawling along the corridors after the munchkins until they were out in the open once more, in the middle of a small village.

“We used to be such a large group,” the munchkin leader said sadly. “Thanks to Zelena, this is all that’s left of us.”

There certainly weren’t very many, and Emma could see why they were so angry with Dorothy for abandoning them in their hour of need.

“So, if we’re not following the yellow brick road, then where are we going?” Neal asked.

“The Crystal Castle,” the leader said. “The home of the Cardinal Witches. If what you say is true, then Glinda and Phoebe will no longer be under the monkey curse and will be able to help you return home. If not, well…” He patted his crossbow. “You are Neal and Emma, and you may refer to me as Captain Boq. If we move out now, we should reach the Crystal Castle in good time before the bear hunting time starts.”

“And if we do meet any bears?” Emma asked.

“Or tigers?” Neal added, thinking of their close encounter with the sabres.

“Or lions?”

“Oh, the lions are harmless,” Captain Boq said. “Cowards, the lot of them. As for tigers and bears, well…” He grinned as the other munchkins brought over bags of provisions for them. “You’d better be good at running…”

 Kansas – Present

“We’re looking for Dorothy Gale.”

The old woman continued to regard Belle and Rumpelstiltskin with suspicion as they came towards the hand, one hand on her hip and the other brandishing the undoubtedly sharp knife that she had been using on the vegetables in the bowls around her.

“Who’s looking?” she asked.

“My name is Mr Gold, and this is Miss French,” Rumpelstiltskin said.

The woman narrowed her eyes.

“You’re not one of those Men in Black people from the government, are you? The Area 51 types who click their little flashy pen things and wipe all your memories?”

Belle and Rumpelstiltskin looked at each other. Whilst Rumpelstiltskin’s dark suit might have given that impression, Belle’s blue sundress was really not the attire of government agents.

“We’re not with the government,” Belle assured the woman.

“Are you sure? Because I swear on my honour that we’ve had no alien abductions here and absolutely no probing went on during the abduction that didn’t happen.”

“We’re not here about aliens.”

“Yeah? Are you here about her disappearance? Because there’s a perfectly good reason for that, you can ask any of the other press people who kept snaking around after the fact.” She paused. “You’re a little late picking up the story, aren’t you? It’s two years since.”

“We’re not with the press,” Rumpelstiltskin said quickly. “We really need to talk to Dorothy because we think that she can help us with another, similar disappearance.”

“So, you’re cops? You don’t look like cops. Not in a skirt that short.”

“No, we’re not cops. I’m just a concerned father trying to find out where the hell my son is,” Rumpelstiltskin snapped.

The woman snorted. “I don’t know how Dorothy will be able to help with that. She hasn’t left the farm in two years.”

“She disappeared in a tornado, didn’t she?” Belle said.

Immediately, the woman’s face changed, from angry and defensive to fearful. They’d struck the right chord at last. She dropped the knife and backed up towards the house, calling inside.

“Dorothy!”

“Yes, Auntie Em?”

“Dorothy, there are some people here to see you. It’s about the, well, the you know what. They’re not cops or press or government folks.”

There was silence for a while, the old woman still not taking her eyes of Belle and Rumpelstiltskin, and then a woman in her mid-twenties appeared in the doorway. She had the eyes of a person who had seen a lot, and Rumpelstiltskin knew at once that she was the person they were looking for.

“Come on through,” she said. “There’s ice tea.”

Belle and Rumpelstiltskin followed Dorothy through into the kitchen, noting that she closed the door firmly and pointedly to keep her aunt out.

“So, what is it that you want to know?” she asked once they were all seated around the table with drinks. “If you’re not any of the things that my aunt just described, then who are you?”

“We…” Rumpelstiltskin began, but he tailed off. He knew that he had to begin at the beginning, but how far back did he have to go? “We need to know what happened in Oz,” he finished.

Dorothy’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know about Oz? I’ve never told anyone what happened there, or what the place was called.”

“But it still ended up as a story though, didn’t it?” Belle said. “You may never have told another soul, but everyone still knows the story of the Wizard of Oz.” She pulled Henry’s story book out of her bag and laid it down on the table, carefully opening it to the bookmarked page containing Dorothy’s story.

Dorothy went pale.

“We’re like you,” Belle said. “Characters in our own stories. We’ve found ourselves here in this world where our lives and our experiences are just fiction. Just like you came back from Oz to find that your time there was just a story, and always had been.”

“So why are you here?” Dorothy asked. “I don’t know where you’ve come from and I don’t really care, but I’m Kansas born and bred; this is my home and it always has been. Oz was just an interlude.”

“Where we’re from isn’t important,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “We’re here because we have a problem and we believe that you can help us.”

“What sort of a problem?” Dorothy asked. Although she was still guarded, there was a definite tone of curiosity in her voice now.

“A tornado-shaped problem.” Rumpelstiltskin sat back. “Sound familiar?”

Dorothy snorted. “Whose house got dropped on a witch this time?”

“The witch dropped the house on herself, but my son and his friend were caught up in the tornado, so we have reason to believe that they’re currently in Oz. We’re looking for a way to get them home.”

Dorothy laughed bitterly. “Good luck with that. It took me three years to get back here, and it wasn’t for want of trying.”

“But for those three years, you didn’t have the one thing that you needed to get home.”

Dorothy’s expression hardened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The silver slippers. If you used them to get home from Oz, then they must still be around here somewhere.”

“Even if I still had them, how would you propose getting them back to Oz?”

“We have our methods,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “And I think that you do still have them. Innocuous as they might look, you of all people know that they’re a powerful magical artefact and they shouldn’t be allowed to fall into the wrong hands.”

Dorothy was unwavering in her conviction. “How do I know that yours are the right hands?” she asked. “If you really are fairy tale characters like I became, and we really are dealing with powerful magical artefacts, then surely you’re aware that there’s good and bad in every tale.”

“What is it to you?” Rumpelstiltskin asked.

Dorothy was silent for a long time, viewing them with tight-lipped scepticism.

“I left the munchkins in a pretty dire state,” she said eventually. “I don’t want to be responsible for making matters even worse for them. You could be working with the Wicked Witch for all I know.”

“Believe me, we hold no affection for Zelena,” Rumpelstiltskin snarled.

Dorothy seemed taken aback by his vehemence.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to cause offence.”

“The munchkins aren’t the only ones whose lives Zelena made hell.” Belle reached across the table for Rumpelstiltskin’s hand and he squeezed it, the small gesture giving him the strength he needed to continue.

“Zelena is dead,” he said. “You’re going to have to take our word on that one, but I swear that she won’t be doing anything to anyone anymore. She was trying to escape our realm and use a tornado to get back to Oz, but she failed. The tornado took my son and his friend instead. Please, you have to help me to get them back. You’ve been to Oz, you know what it’s like there. Even without the Wicked Witch of the West, my sources tell me that it’s still a pretty grim place. You really wouldn’t want anyone to be trapped there any longer than they had to be.”

Dorothy didn’t meet their eyes, tapping her fingers against the side of her empty iced tea glass.

“I was trapped there for three years,” she murmured. “Part of me wants to leave them there for three years, because why the hell should they have it easy after everything that happened to me? But if I’d had a life line and people with the means to get me back as soon as possible, I know I would have leapt at the chance and been eternally grateful.” She gave a long sigh. “Wait here.”

She left the room and Rumpelstiltskin let out a long, shaky breath.

“What if she doesn’t help us?” he asked.

“She will,” Belle said. “She doesn’t sound to be a cruel person by nature; she’s just bitter about what happened to her.”

The minutes dragged by, each one feeling like an eternity until the kitchen door opened again and Dorothy slipped inside, holding a cardboard box.

“Sorry, it took me a while to find them,” she said. “They were hidden at the back of my closet along with all the other crap relating to memories that I’d rather forget. I think that these are what you’re looking for.”

She opened the box and took out the silver shoes inside, setting them carefully on the table. Rumpelstiltskin picked one up and looked at it with a practised eye. Although he had no magical ability of his own outside of Storybrooke, he could still detect its traces, and he could tell that these shoes were very powerful indeed.

“Yes,” he said. “These are what we’re looking for. Thank you for giving them to us.”

He could feel the powerful light magic that permeated the shoes. They had been created from no motive besides pure love and a desire for reunification, no matter how far. For a moment, he found himself thinking of just how wrong Zelena had got it. She’d had power, respect, and moreover a family who loved her more than anything, and yet it had never been enough for her. She had always wanted more, and in the end it had been that hunger that had led to her downfall and demise.

“So, what happens now?” Dorothy asked. “How are you going to get them back to Oz? I mean, it’s not exactly like I’m going to have much use for them now. I’m not planning on going anywhere that’s more than ten miles away from this farm.”

“That’s a shame,” Belle said. “You could come and visit us in Storybrooke and meet all the other characters pulled out of their tales.”

Dorothy looked at Henry’s story book as Belle put it back into her bag and started rummaging around for something else.

“You haven’t told me who you are,” she said pointedly.

Rumpelstiltskin smiled, the trickster��s smile that showed the gold in his teeth.

“I’ll give you three guesses.”

Dorothy opened her mouth to say something then thought better of it as realisation dawned.

“Rumpelstiltskin?” she hedged.

“At your service.”

“Huh. It’s a small world.”

Belle pulled out a small, dark vial and handed it to Rumpelstiltskin, who uncorked it and dripped out a small measure of the clear liquid within onto the slippers. Nothing seemed to happen.

“Maybe we need to take them back to Storybrooke for the magic to take hold?” Belle suggested.

Rumpelstiltskin was about to make the same observation when a rush of inky-dark smoke enveloped the slippers. When it dissipated, they had vanished.

The three gathered around the table looked at each other.

“Did it work?” Dorothy asked.

“I guess that we can only wait and hope.”

Rumpelstiltskin squeezed Belle’s hand tightly. Only time would tell if her plan had been successful.

  Oz – Present

Once upon a time, the Crystal Castle had no doubt been impressive, but now it looked very much the worse for wear. Emma looked up at the dilapidated structure, reserving judgement on whether or not those inside would be able to help.

It looked as if it had been all but destroyed, and parts of it had been restored and rebuilt but whoever was in charge of repairs had run out of either time or inclination or money or all three. Some of the broken windows had new glass in, and some of the shattered crystal structures had been replaced, probably just enough to make the place liveable in again. In a way, the abandoned rebuilding efforts made the place look even worse than a complete ruin would have done. They gave the impression that someone was still trying to live in the middle of it all.

“You should have seen it in its heyday.” The nostalgia was heavy in Captain Boq’s voice. “It was so beautiful. It shone out for miles around, brighter even than the Emerald City. The Crystal Castle and the Cardinal Witches were the pride of all Oz.”

“What happened?” Emma asked.

“The tornado.” Boq indicated the flattened trees around them. “Not yours; Dorothy’s. The castle is so steeped in centuries of cardinal magic that it would take all four of them working in unison to repair it fully. Without Verdie and Zelena, well, Glinda and Phoebe did the best that they could, but they’d never be able to get it back to its original splendour.”

He shook himself out of his reminiscences and marched on towards the doors; Neal and Emma had to run to keep up with him. The munchkin pounded several times on the heavy wood, then without waiting for a response, heaved the doors open.

The three of them stepped inside the seemingly deserted castle and looked around in the dim gloom. Every surface as covered in dust, and Emma didn’t hold out much hope of finding the witches here to corroborate the story of Zelena’s demise. Boq was still holding up his crossbow, and he was obviously more than ready to use it.

“Can you tell if they’re here or not?” Neal asked Emma. “You know, with that magical stuff you use to find Zelena’s presence.”

Boq looked at her. “You’re also a witch?”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say witch,” Emma said. “But I can do some bits of magic.”

She closed her eyes, searching for magical signatures. There were traces of Zelena’s sickly green everywhere, in amongst the faintest facets of a rainbow of other colours, all part of the very fabric of the castle itself, the remnants of Cardinal Witches long gone.

Two colours shone brighter than the rest, both pale and white, tinged with silver and pink. Very similar and very pure. This was bright light magic, unlike the darkness in Zelena, Regina and Rumpelstiltskin’s signatures.

“I think we’re in luck,” she said, although she was very aware that she didn’t sound at all sure of herself.

“Excellent,” Boq said. “I suppose we should look for them.”

“Or they might come to us,” Emma muttered to herself. Regina and Rumpelstiltskin had both told her that her magic was very bright and very loud, so she’d probably attracted the two witches’ attention without even trying.

“The most potent magic is kept in the lower levels; the witches live on the upper floors,” Boq explained. “Ordinarily I’d split the party here, but I don’t entirely trust you two yet. Let’s go up and start in the library sections.”

Boq led the way up the stairs, poking into all the rooms with his crossbow, in case of any flying monkeys lurking around corners. Emma and Neal followed close behind him, but Emma wasn’t paying all that much attention to her surroundings and was instead trying to formulate a plan for getting them out of this crystal maze if it turned out that Phoebe and Glinda were in fact still monkeys.

She was brought out of her thoughts sharply when a shard of crystal whizzed past her right ear and she spun on her heel to see who had attacked her.

A blonde woman in a white dress was standing at the other end of the corridor, hands outstretched, looking ferocious.

“Hey, hey, Glinda, it’s ok. They’re with me.” Boq pushed past Emma and Neal, swinging his crossbow over his shoulder, and putting his hands up. Glinda relaxed out of her combative stance.

“It’s only you, Boq. I thought that we had intruders. That castle’s been unprotected for so long that I wouldn’t be surprised if opportunists had started looting.”

“Are you all right?” Boq hedged. “Not monkeyfied anymore? What about Phoebe?”

“I’m all right.” Phoebe appeared beside Glinda in a swirl of white smoke. “Monkeys one moment and human again the next. It feels like the curse is broken, but since there’s no sign of Zelena, I think we can all assume what this means.”

“Zelena’s dead?” Boq asked.

“At the very least her magic has been stopped,” Phoebe said. “She’s powerless now and unable to sustain any spells.”

Boq took a moment to digest the witch’s words, then turned to Emma and Neal.

“Your story check out then,” he said. “I’ll leave you with Glinda and Phoebe to work out a way to get you home. No hard feelings about the cell?”

“No,” Neal said quickly, wanting to avoid any diplomatic issues as much as possible.

“Good. Good luck with getting home. You’ll need it.”

Boq turned and bowed to the witches.

“Your Graces, this is Neal and Emma, borne in on a tornado from the same place as Dorothy. Emma and Neal, this is Phoebe and Glinda, the Witches of North and South.”

He marched back out of the castle without another word, leaving Emma and Neal standing in the corridor with the witches.

“So,” Emma began. “Can you get us home?”

Phoebe and Glinda looked at each other with worried expressions.

“Well,” Phoebe said, “as we said to Dorothy when she first came here, crossing realms is a difficult and serious business and not to be undertaken lightly.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “From the amount of times I’ve crossed realms in the last couple of years, I honestly wouldn’t have guessed.”

“We were always told that Dorothy got home with the help of silver slippers,” Neal added. “Is that true? If it is, do you have another pair hanging around somewhere?”

Neither Neal nor Emma missed the uneasy look that passed between the two witches.

“The silver slippers are one of a kind,” Glinda said. “Created by Verdie for her sister. Dorothy stole them from Zelena. They aren’t ours to give.”

“We’ve already established that Zelena is as good as dead,” Neal pointed out. “I don’t think that she’s going to be using them again any time soon.”

“We don’t have them,” Glinda said quickly. Emma narrowed her eyes. Her lie detection had been off for a while, but this time she was sure of it.

“Yes, you do,” she said firmly. “Don’t ask me how they got back here from wherever Dorothy was hiding them in Kansas, but you’ve got them.”

Phoebe sighed. “Considering what happened last time, we’re somewhat reluctant to just hand them over.”

“Zelena’s gone,” Emma pressed. “We’ve only been in Oz a few days, we’re not leaving you in the lurch in the middle of a war.” She thought of the munchkins. “I know that you’ve been bitten in the backside before, but it’s all over now. I highly doubt that Zelena’s coming back, and if she is, then she has so little power and she’s so weak that you’ll easily stand up to her. Keeping Neal and me in Oz against our will isn’t going to achieve much more than making our families come on a mad rampage across worlds to find us. We’ve done it before when one of our own got taken from us and you can bet we’d do it again. And when you consider that Neal’s father is the sorcerer who taught Zelena in the first place…”

She left the threat hanging in the air.

Phoebe sighed. “I guess you’re right. Follow us.”

Storybrooke – Present

After his conversation with Regina and his research with Henry and Jefferson, David had come to the unhappy conclusion that there were other people far more qualified to deal with this latest crisis than he was. When it came to diplomacy he was good, having spent a year back in the Enchanted Forest effectively co-ruling with the Evil Queen who until comparatively recently had been a mortal enemy. When it came to tactics and military campaigns, he was even better, despite never having been trained as a soldier and being entirely self-taught in the art of warfare.

When it came to magic, however, David would be the first to admit that he was absolutely not an expert, and as such, he’d relinquished the investigation to those who knew a lot more than he did about magic and portals and how they all fitted together.

“They will find Emma and Neal,” Mary Margaret said firmly, strapping on the baby sling that Ashley had donated to them. Whilst they’d managed to get quite a few things sorted ready for the baby’s arrival during the short time that they had been back in Storybrooke, suddenly waking up to find themselves eight and a half months pregnant with no memories had naturally not left them with a lot of preparation time. Since Alexandra was now happily toddling about, Ashley had been happy to help out with things that she and Sean no longer required.

“I know.” David sighed, looking out of the loft window towards the rest of the town.

“David.” Mary Margaret left her sleeping son for a moment and came over to her husband, putting her arms around him and resting her head against his shoulder. “I know it’s hard. I know you’re worried about her. I am too. But Emma can take care of herself, and we have another child who can’t.”

David felt something in his gut twist. It was true that with all the upheaval that had accompanied Emma and Neal’s disappearance, he hadn’t been spending nearly as much time with Mary Margaret and their new-born as he should have done.

“I just don’t want her to feel like we’ve given up on her or abandoned her because we have another child now. I don’t want her to feel like Lance has replaced her.”

“I’m sure she won’t. She’s a parent herself, David. She knows what it’s like. Please. We haven’t given up on her, but right now we are really not the best people to help her. She wouldn’t want us to neglect Lance because we were too busy trying to help her. Come on. Let’s go and meet up with Henry and Grace and Jefferson. Hopefully they’ll have some news for us.”

Mary Margaret strapped Lance into the baby carrier and they left the loft, heading out in the direction of Granny’s.

Before they could get there, however, David saw a familiar black car parking up outside the diner, and he rushed over to the Cadillac as Belle got out of the driver’s seat.

“How did it go?” he asked.

“No welcome back? No hello? No how was the trip?” It was good to hear Gold back to his usual sarcastic self after everything that he had been through, but his dry smile told David that he wasn’t entirely serious, and Belle gave a good-natured eyeroll before turning back to David. She was wearing a wide and sincere smile, and David took that as a good sign.

“We found Dorothy and the slippers,” she said. “And the slippers should have arrived in Oz by now.”

David let out a long breath of relief.

“Thank you both so much, for everything.”

“Well, they aren’t back yet,” Gold said darkly. “It’s up to Emma and Neal and the benevolence of the remaining Cardinal Witches now.”

David knew that, but his heart was still lightened by the fact that the plan had worked so far. He trusted Emma to be working to get herself home from the other side, and now she had the silver slippers to aid her.

“We had a more than successful trip, actually,” Belle said. “We picked up a couple of hitchhikers.”

For the briefest of moments, David remembered the last time that strangers had come to Storybrooke and he felt a jolt of panic, but then he saw that the two women getting out of the back of the Cadillac were not strangers at all.

“Aurora! Mulan!”

Robin came rushing down the diner steps towards them, hugging Mulan tightly, and then Aurora less tightly so as not to crush the baby in her arms.

“We thought that it was time to come and see you all,” Mulan said. “You know, we were getting lonely in New York. But of course, Storybrooke isn’t on any maps and the outside world hasn’t heard of it, so asking for directions was a fruitless pursuit. We’re lucky Rumpelstiltskin drove by or we might have been wandering around rural Maine for months.”

Henry, Jefferson, and Granny had all come out of the diner to investigate the scene outside, with Granny immediately fussing over Aurora’s child and Jefferson expressing sheer relief at seeing them all right.

“When the worms opened that portal I honestly dreaded to think where you might have ended up,” he said. “I’m so glad that you came to the right place.”

“It was an interesting time, that’s for sure,” Mulan replied. “But we got through it.” She reached for Aurora’s hand and squeezed.

“Belle and Rumpelstiltskin filled us in on what’s been happening,” Aurora began. “I’m sorry to hear about Emma and Neal.”

“We’re getting them home,” David said, and this time, he firmly believed in his own convictions. “Let’s focus on the people here in Storybrooke; I’m sure that you’ll want to be reunited with Philip.”

Aurora nodded. “Please. I know that Zelena’s dead now and the curse should have been broken, but I know that I won’t believe that he’s all right until I see him with my own eyes. Besides.” She looked down at the baby in her arms. “He needs to meet his son.”

“I’ll take you,” Robin said. “All of the Merry Men and former monkeys are living out by the edge of the forest. We should hopefully be moving into houses soon if the rent agreements can be worked out.”

Gold gave a snort of laughter. “I’m sure that I can get something drawn up with reasonable terms. For a price, of course.”

Robin bowed slightly. “I would expect nothing less from the master dealmaker.”

As Gold and Belle returned to the shop, ostensibly to make the necessary arrangements, Robin led Mulan and Aurora through the woods towards the Merry Men’s camp.

“I like this place much better than New York,” Aurora murmured, looking around at Storybrooke’s buildings. Mulan squeezed her hand again.

“Yes,” she agreed. “I can see us finding a good home here. Not as many people.”

“Not as many cars.” Aurora shuddered at the memory of the city that they had just left.

“Mulan! Aurora!” Roland bounded out of one of the tents as they approached the camp. “I was scared that you’d been turned into flying monkeys! Where have you been? You weren’t in the forest with us.”

“We’ve been in New York,” Aurora explained. “We had to keep little Philip safe.” She showed Roland the baby and he wrinkled his nose with a child’s typical disdain for such things.

But Aurora wasn’t paying too much attention to Roland’s reaction, as Philip came out of a tent, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Soon he, Mulan and Aurora were enveloped in a three-way hug, little Philip squeezed in the middle.

“I’m so glad that you’re all right.” Philip’s voice was choked with emotion. “When I saw that you weren’t here in Storybrooke, I hoped you’d been spared, but when Jefferson said you’d escaped via portal I didn’t dare hope that I’d ever see you again.”

“We’re here,” Aurora said softly. “We’re all here and we’re all safe and well. Including your son.”

Philip took his baby from Aurora, cradling him close.

“My son,” he breathed. “My beautiful son.”

The rest of the Merry Men retreated away silently, leaving the trio to complete their emotional reunion in private, and Robin smiled. He had long since given up hope of reuniting with Marian, but he had Roland, and he had seen another family become complete once more. That was more than enough for him.

 Oz – Present

Neal and Emma followed Glinda and Phoebe down the corridor and up another flight of stairs, getting ever more lost in the midst of the shattered, dusty crystal. Almost every surface was mirrored in some way, and Emma wondered if they were walking towards a trap in the centre of a labyrinth. She guessed that they’d find out once they got there. If she hadn’t walked into her reflection or a sheet of glass first, of course. She and Neal followed the witches closely; they at least seemed to know where they were going.

“In here.”

Phoebe opened a door and Emma and Neal entered a room that was thankfully not quite as disorientating as the rest of the castle. In the centre, on a small table, the silver slippers stood in pride of place.

“They came back to us just this morning,” Glinda said. “We woke up and they were just there, staring us in the face. We don’t know where they came from, but we can tell that they’re the same ones that Dorothy took from Zelena.”

Neal went over to the shoes, picking one of them up and turning it over and over in his hands.

“Seems innocuous enough,” he said. “I don’t think they’ll fit me though. They look more your size, Emma.”

Emma picked up the other shoe. She could feel the magic in them just as she could feel the magic in the castle. It was distracting, and she wished that she could just turn off whatever magical receptors she had. Before she’d always had to concentrate to find magical traces but the longer she remained in this place so steeped in magic, the more everything was turned up a notch. She furrowed her brow.

“Rumpelstiltskin’s magic is on these,” she said. “I can feel it.”

“Well, he did teach Zelena,” Neal said. “It’s not impossible.”

“No, it’s too strong for that. I think he sent them back here.”

“For us to use?”

“Why else would he send them?”

Neal handed the other shoe to Emma. “Like I said, they won’t fit me.”

Emma looked at the silver slippers and then down at her own practical boots, then finally at Glinda and Phoebe.

“Are you sure that this will work?” she asked. “It won’t just take us off to some unknown land and we’ll end up worse than we started?”

“They’ll only ever take you home,” Glinda said. “It depends on where home is for you.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Emma muttered. “And what about Neal? It’s all very well me putting these things on, but how’s he going to get home?”

“You should be able to pull him along with you,” Phoebe said. “As long as you hold on tight.”

Emma nodded. “Right.” She still wasn’t entirely sure that it would work. It all seemed so easy, after everything that had come before.

“You’re really ok with us taking them?” she asked. “I don’t know what Rumpelstiltskin did to get them back here, but he might not be able to do it again.”

Phoebe nodded. “We are home,” she said simply, reaching out and taking Glinda’s hand. “We’re not likely to be leaving any time soon. There’s so much to rebuild after Zelena’s reign of terror; now that we’re no longer under her curse, we can help the munchkins to get back on their feet as well and recruit new Cardinal Witches to make our sisterhood complete. Maybe we’ll finally be able to restore the Crystal Castle.”

Glinda nodded her agreement. “At the end of the day, these were Verdie’s gift, to ensure that her family could always return to her, wherever they might be trapped. I’m sure that she would have wanted them to be used to reunite other families.”

“Right.” Emma sat down on the end of Phoebe and Glinda’s bed and pulled off her boots. The slippers were a good fit, a remarkably good fit, and Emma wondered if there was some kind of magical assistance going on.

“Ready?” Neal asked. “Do you have to click the heels together three times to make them work, or is that just Hollywood embellishment?”

Glinda and Phoebe looked at each other and it was quite clear that neither of them had a clue what he was talking about. He sighed.

“Never mind. It can’t hurt to try.”

“It can hurt my pride when I stand here looking like an idiot clicking my heels together with nothing happening,” Emma grumbled.

“As far as I know, you just have to visualise your home,” Phoebe said. “Think of that place, and the magic will do the rest to take you there.”

Emma stood up and made her way over to Neal on unsteady feet, unused to the shoes.

“Are you ready?”

Neal held out a hand. “After sabre-toothed tigers and munchkin jail cells, I’m more than ready.”

“The tigers are loose again?” Phoebe sighed. “Glinda, we’re going to have to do something about that.”

Emma grabbed Neal’s hand and clicked her heels together three times.

Absolutely nothing happened. Neal looked down at her feet.

“Maybe they’re a bit rusty?” he suggested.

“There’s no place like home,” Emma muttered closing her eyes and bringing her heels together with such force that she hurt her ankles. “There’s no place like home.”

She opened one eye, but they were still in the Crystal Castle.

“Oh, this is hopeless!” She let go of Neal’s hand and sat down heavily on the bed again. “How are we going to get home now? I don’t even know where my home is! I don’t have a home! I never have!”

“Emma.” Neal came over, crouching in front of her. “You do have a home. Maybe you don’t realise it yet, but you do have one.”

“Where, Neal?” Emma sighed. “You remember that first time we saw the Wizard of Oz? On our first date? I said I had no idea where the slippers would take me, and I still don’t!”

“Yeah, I remember,” Neal said. “Do you remember where I said that home was for me?”

“Back in the Enchanted Forest with your dad.”

“No. I never said anything about the Enchanted Forest to you back then. I was still pretending to be normal, remember?”

“Back with your dad, then.”

“Exactly. With dad. I didn’t care where that was as long as I was with him.”

“People, not a place,” Emma said, echoing an almost-forgotten conversation from a first date so many years ago.

“I know it’s an old cliché, even here, but home is where the heart is,” Glinda said. “These slippers were made to reunite the sisters. It didn’t matter where they were.”

Emma took a deep breath. Henry. Mary Margaret. David. They were her family, and she wanted to get back to them. She had spent so longer over the last few days in Storybrooke feeling out of place and not at home, but as long as she was with them, then it didn’t matter. Neal was right. She could put roots down anywhere, but Henry was what would make any place into a home for her. Her family, and Neal’s too. If he were wearing these slippers, he’d be wishing himself back with Rumpelstiltskin and Belle, wherever they might be.

She stood up again and took both of Neal’s hands in hers. She closed her eyes and saw Henry’s face.

“There’s no place like home.” Click. “There’s no place like home.” Click. “There’s no place like home.” Click.

This time she felt it, powerful light magic swirling around the two of them, as intense as the tornado had been, but nowhere near as frightening. Neal held onto her tighter.

Glinda and Phoebe shielded their eyes as the white light in the room grew blinding, and then Emma and Neal disappeared.

“Did it work?” Phoebe asked.

“I guess we’ll just have to trust that it did,” Glinda said. “Now, with Zelena gone. I think we ought to start assessing the damage.”

“Are you sure that can’t wait till morning?” Phoebe’s expression was cheeky. “Once Boq gets the news out that Zelena’s gone, we’ll be overrun with munchkins. We need to make the most of the quiet.”

Glinda rolled her eyes then smiled.

“All right,” she said. “We’ll start tomorrow.”

Phoebe just kissed her.

X

Emma could feel the powerful magic surrounding her and buffeting her just like the tornado had done, but this time it was different. It was just as nerve-wracking as last time, but now it felt more controlled. This wasn’t a random side effect from Zelena losing her already precarious hold on her overpowered magic. This was something that was intended, and Emma could feel the pure light magic all around, threatening to overwhelm her entirely.

She was clinging onto Neal so tightly that her hands were hurting, and she was scared that her fingers would go numb and she would lose her grip, sending him off to whatever unknown place might be halfway between Oz and Storybrooke.

“Emma.”

The roar of magic in her ears gradually began to fade, and she could no longer feel it blowing her hair around.

“Emma, you can open your eyes.”

Neal sounded happy, but the part of Emma that still expected everything to go wrong at any given moment was unconvinced.

“Did it work?” she asked, her eyes still screwed tightly shut.

“It worked.”

That was David’s voice, and Emma’s eyes shot open to find herself standing in the middle of Granny’s diner. On the counter, actually, much to the astonishment of all the patrons who were enjoying their evening meals.

“Emma, you can let go now.”

Emma looked down at her and Neal’s clasped hands, her knuckles white and his fingers turning blue from her vice-like grip. She let go, and let David give her a hand off the counter as Neal jumped down and accepted Granny’s huge hug.

“We knew you could find your way home,” David said, guiding Emma over to where Mary Margaret was sitting with the baby. Despite Emma’s protests, she got up awkwardly and enveloped her daughter in a one-armed hug, David embracing them all. Yes, Emma thought. This was home. She could have been in any city, in any diner, in any realm, but as long as she was with these people, then she was home. As she broke out of the group hug, she could see several of the diner customers on their phones alerting the rest of the town that their missing persons had returned.

“What can I get you?” Granny asked. “Whatever you like, on the house. You two deserve it after all you’ve been through.”

“Honestly, Granny, all I want is some decent shoes.” Emma looked critically at the silver slippers, realising that she had left her boots in Oz. “They’re lovely, but they’re just not me. These are more Belle’s style, I think. But speaking of Belle and Rumpelstiltskin… What happened to Zelena?”

“She’s dead,” David said firmly. “The blood loss from her wound and the injuries she sustained from the debris in the tornado killed her. Her body’s been destroyed, and we buried the ashes. She won’t be causing anyone anymore pain.”

Emma nodded. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

A small, cynical part of her kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the next terrible thing to go wrong in the town, but she pushed it to the back of her mind. She had been worried about the future for too long, and it was time for her to live in the present. As Henry rushed into the diner and threw his arms around her without any pre-emptory greetings, Emma really didn’t care what happened tomorrow.

“Neal!”

Neal spun around as the diner door opened again by another exuberant hand, and a group of Merry Men came in, led by Mulan.

“You’re all right!” Neal exclaimed. “You got here safely! Did you find the apartment in New York? Where’s Aurora? Is the baby ok? How did you get to Storybrooke?”

“Aurora’s fine, she’s here too,” Mulan said. “She’s with Philip, and baby Philip. They haven’t seen each other for so long; they need some time alone. And we got here because we got your postcard.”

She pulled a battered card out of her pocket, a simple cheap picture postcard reading Welcome to Storybrooke. Neal recognised it, and the single word scrawled on the back: FIXED.

“Your father picked us up on his way back from Kansas,” Mulan continued. “It seems like we’ve all been having adventures.”

“It certainly does.” Neal remembered what Emma had said about feeling traces of Rumpelstiltskin’s magic on the shoes, and he wondered just what had been going on whilst they had been dodging tigers in Oz.

He didn’t have long to wait to find out; Belle and his father were the next people to enter the diner, and Neal broke away from Mulan and the Merry Men to go over to them.

“Bae…” Rumpelstiltskin’s voice was barely more than a whisper of wonder, as if he couldn’t quite believe that he was really looking at his son. Neal didn’t bother to correct his name and just hugged his father, letting him know that he was really here and not just some figment of his imagination that had been brought on by so much torture at the hands of the Wicked Witch.

“Thanks for sending the slippers,” he said. “I don’t know how we would have got home without them.”

“It was Belle’s idea,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “I simply provided the means.”

“Thanks, Belle.”

“You’re welcome.” Belle was looking a little nervous and Neal’s brow furrowed.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no. Something’s very right, actually.” She smiled. “Neal, we have something to tell you.”

“You’ve not been back together long enough to be pregnant.”

“Neal!” Rumpelstiltskin exclaimed. Belle just giggled.

“No, it’s not that,” she said. “We’re getting married.”

“Honestly, you go away for a couple of days and anything can happen.” Neal grinned. “Congratulations, you guys. You deserve this.”

He hugged Belle, pulling Rumpelstiltskin in as well. They were home, and everything was going to be all right.”

 Storybrooke – Present

Moe looked up as the door to Game of Thorns opened, and he smiled when he saw Belle walk in.

“I heard that you were back from your trip,” he said. “How did it go?”

“Well, Neal and Emma are safely back in Storybrooke, so I think it was a success.”

“I’m very glad to hear it.”

“Papa, there’s something else.” Belle paused and came over to her father, closing the distance between them. Things weren’t perfect in their relationship; they still had a long way to go, but they were making progress.

“What is it, Bluebell?”

“Whilst we were out of town, Rumpel asked me to marry him. I said yes. I’m not asking for your blessing, because we both know me well enough to know that I will marry him with or without that. But I wanted you to know, and when we do get married, I would like you to be there. If you would like to come, of course.”

“Belle…” Moe reached over and took her hands. “All I want, all I’ve ever wanted, is your happiness. I was so caught up in my own preconceptions that I couldn’t believe that Rumpelstiltskin would make you happy. I thought I knew your own mind better than you did yourself, and for that I am truly sorry. I saw him as a villain who stole you away from me, and I couldn’t see past that.”

“He didn’t steal me, Papa. I went with him freely. I’m not a thing to be stolen, I’m my own person.” She remembered saying the same thing to the Blue Fairy just after Rumpelstiltskin set off to Neverland. He is my true love, and I am my own person.

“I know that now. These past few weeks have been enlightening in many ways. But if being with him is what truly makes you happy, then that’s good enough for me. You have my blessing, both of you, and I would be honoured to walk you down the aisle.”

Belle came around the counter and embraced her father.

“Thank you, Papa. That does mean so much to me.” She smiled as she pulled away. “Would you please do me the honour of making my bouquet?”

“Of course. White roses, I think.”

“And honeysuckle, for Mama.”

Honeysuckle had been Colette’s favourite flower, and it felt right to include an homage to her in the bouquet. Moe glanced at Belle; the issue of her birth mother was still one that they had yet to discuss, but that was a conversation for another time. For now, it was a time of happiness and celebration, and neither Moe nor Belle were going to let anything get in the way of that.

X

“Do I look all right?”

“Neal, you look fine, stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying. It’s just that Papa always looks immaculate in his Dolce and Gabbana suits and as his best man, I don’t want to let the side down.”

“You look great, Dad.”

Neal adjusted his tie in the mirror of the bed and breakfast room that Emma was sharing with Henry and finally deemed himself satisfied.

“Do you think that maybe they’re rushing into this a bit?” he asked, relinquishing the mirror to Henry and Emma. “You know what they say. Marry in haste, repent at leisure.”

“I think I trust Rumpelstiltskin and Belle to know what’s best for them,” Emma said levelly. She had been surprised when they had invited her and Henry to their wedding after only a week of being engaged, but she wasn’t too shocked by it. “After everything that they’ve been through, I can’t really I say that I blame them for wanting to make it official and wanting to get it done as soon as possible and as quietly as possible before the next magical catastrophe arrives. Besides, no-one can deny that they’re ridiculously in love with each other.”

“I know, I don’t doubt their feelings for a moment, but it takes more than just love to make a relationship work. Look at us, for example.”

Emma didn’t have a response to that one. She didn’t really know where she stood with Neal right now. She knew that she wanted him as a friend and co-parent, and she knew that a part of her still held deeper feelings for him that would never die. She liked to think that there was hope for them to fix what had been broken between them, but at the same time, she was still mourning the end of her relationship with Walsh and it was too soon for her to be thinking about another one. The last thing that she wanted was to come back to Neal on a rebound and make everything even more complicated between them.

“I think they can do it,” she said eventually. “They have all of us to support them at any rate.”

“Come on, we’re going to be late!” Henry said. He was already waiting impatiently by the door and Emma had to wonder at his excitement before realising that in the end, it all came down to happy endings. Belle and Rumpelstiltskin had been denied their happy ending in the story book and so many times since, and now they were finally getting it. It was certainly enough to make an ardent believer in hope and happy endings giddy.

The proceedings were simple, with just a few close friends and family invited to the well in the forest. Archie was already there to preside over the ceremony, along with Leroy and Astrid who had spent the evening decorating the grove with fairy lights and wildflowers. Rumpelstiltskin was nervous, fiddling with his fingers as he waited for Belle to arrive.

“Papa, it’s going to be fine,” Neal assured him. “Belle will be here, and nothing is going to go wrong.”

“What if her father’s kidnapped her again?” Rumpelstiltskin asked frantically.

Neal sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“You know, I’m not even going to ask,” he muttered. “But look. There was no need to worry, see?”

Rumpelstiltskin turned to see Belle walking serenely through the trees towards him on her father’s arm. All in white and cream, she looked like an angel against the dark backdrop of the forest, and the sight of her took Rumpelstiltskin’s breath away.

She was smiling radiantly as she came towards him clutching her bouquet, and Rumpelstiltskin knew that after all the bad decisions he had made in his life, this was definitely a good one that he would not regret.

Belle let go of her father’s arm and made the last few steps to Rumpelstiltskin on her own, reaching out her hand for his. He squeezed her fingers.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

“So do you.”

“Thank you.”

They turned towards Archie, who stepped forward and cleared his throat.

“I think I speak for everyone here today when I say how happy I am to witness this union. After all the tumult and all the separations that you two have been through, I am very glad and honoured to be a part of your happy ending at last. Please, begin your vows whenever you’re ready.”

Writing vows had been a major stumbling block for both of them over the last couple of days. Belle had always assumed that she would be married in a traditional religious ceremony in the Enchanted Forest with a priest spouting archaic phrases at her, and however pleased she was to have been given a lot more control over her wedding, she’d found herself at a loss for what to say.

Leroy had advised her to simply speak from the heart, and that the right words would come when they were ready. So, that was what they did. Theirs had been a long and complicated road, but despite all the losses, they had kept fighting for each other, and no matter what might happen next, they would keep on fighting for their forever.

“That was beautiful,” Archie said after they had finished speaking. “Now that you have exchanged your vows, I can pronounce you husband and wife.” He winked at Belle. “You may kiss the groom.”

Belle’s arms were around Rumpelstiltskin and pulling him in for a kiss almost before he had finished sliding the ring onto her finger. In that moment, the cheers and applause of their guests faded away into the background. There was nothing else in the world but them. They were married, and they were going to be together. Nothing was going to go wrong now.

At length they broke away, both of them wiping tears from their eyes, and the others crowded around them to offer their congratulations. Moe and Rumpelstiltskin shook hands; the air was never going to be completely clear between them, but at least there was a truce of sorts now.

“Remember, if you need anything, either of you, you know where to find us,” Astrid said as the rest of the group were about to leave. She and Leroy were staying behind to clear up.

“We’ll see you through, no matter what,” Leroy added.

Belle smiled. “Thank you so much.”

“That’s what friends are for, sister.”

“So, what happens now?” Rumpelstiltskin asked Belle as they meandered back through the forest towards the town, their fingers entwined.

“Papa, do I really need to explain the birds and bees?” Neal joked from behind them. Rumpelstiltskin just rolled his eyes and didn’t deign to reply.

“In all seriousness though, we thought that you might like some peace and quiet for your honeymoon,” Emma said. “Mom and Dad found a big house when they were doing the census after you first came back from the Enchanted Forest again. It’s unoccupied and out of the way, and they thought that you might like it to get away from everything for a couple of days.”

“That sounds wonderful, thank you.”

Emma led the way to the empty house, and Belle looked up at it in mesmerised awe.

“Oh my, it’s beautiful. Are you sure that no-one lives here?”

“We’re sure.”

They had to break in but once inside it was clear that the place, although furnished, was deserted.

“We put some food in the fridge and stuff,” Neal said. “So, we’re not expecting to see you for the next three days. I think that should give you some time to explore.”

“Neal!”

“What? It’s a big house!”

Emma sighed and dragged him away, leaving Belle and Rumpelstiltskin swaying softly to inaudible music in the ballroom.

“I think that’s all’s well that end’s well,” Emma said as they headed back towards town. “Celebratory drink in Granny’s?”

“Sounds good.”

“Hey, what’s that?”

Henry was pointing to a shimmering trail on the road. On closer inspection, it turned out to be ice, the road rimed over.

“I know this is Maine, but it’s still the wrong season for ice,” Neal said. “I don’t like the look of this.”

“Me neither.” Emma looked at the trail. “It’s headed towards town.”

“Or away from it.”

“Either way, I think we need to get to the bottom of this.”

They followed the glistening trail back into the town, and Emma gulped when she saw that it led to the pawn shop. The lock had been broken with frost, but it had been broken on the inside.

She stepped into the shop and flicked the lights on.

“Hello?”

There was no response. Just a large urn smashed into pieces on the floor where it had toppled from a shelf. The rime trail was leading from it.

Emma groaned.

“Oh no…”

[themonkeycabal]

FAM! Please tell us - when is the next Great Installment of WRLWA coming out?? We've still got Ultron and Civil War, with Panther and Infinity War just around the corner. The is tied with my favourite fic series ever, and I've been dying for some updates. Any hints??

Hey fam, I hear you like updates.

Next story is Ultron and the Date, and here’s the first chapter for you (I’m not sure when there will be more, sorry, but I’m getting there):

Darcy liked London. It was old and new, and big and small, and all that contradictory jazz. But, somehow the contradictions just made the city feel human scale to her; like it wasn’t some monolithic mass of stone and steel. New York was still a little overwhelming sometimes. Though, she did come from the land of vast Southern California sprawl — not exactly the coziest or friendliest of human habitats. But, that was really beside the point.

At the moment, what she liked most about London was that it was thousands of miles away from family drama.

The Seattle branch of the tree were in a tizzy. People, it seemed, were miffed. Possibly even vexed.

Calling home had become a real and deep regret, and Darcy was trying not to listen, but her mother was pressing on.

“Marcia isn’t bending. She says it has to be at that resort; she and her fiancé have some deal with the owners. Your grandmother is pitching a fit.”

“Oh no. It’s the end of the world. How terrible,” Darcy murmured and kicked her feet out, lounging back on an uncomfortable bench overlooking the Thames.

It was a nice day. The sun was out and the air was nearly warm. Warm for London, she supposed. But, definitely better than New York sticky. So, yes, it was a nice day. Perfect to get outside and do outside things.

She and Jane arrived in the city two days earlier. And today, while Jane and her mother were bonding over academic journals and fighting over Jane’s wardrobe and how she basically still mostly shopped at Goodwill, Darcy fled the apartment to wander around a little. It was a fine time to reacquaint herself with the area, get her bearings, and give her own mother a call. Such a mistake.

“I know, I know,” Rebecca Lewis continued. “But, she’ll make the trip hell for all of us if somebody doesn’t appease her. According to Jo, it’s nearly war as it is. Uncle Larry’s on Marcia’s side, aunt Ruth’s on mom’s. It could get ugly. So, have you RSVP’d for Marcia’s wedding yet? That might win us back a point.”

“Are you kidding?” Darcy rolled her eyes to the sky and gripped her phone a little tighter, like she could throttle the drama out of it.

Francine Perlman was not a grandmother given to displays of warmth or cheeriness or whatever grandmothers are supposed to be like. She wasn’t a sweet, round, little granny who smelled like spices and made cookies. She was a thin, brittle woman, in both stature and personality. Sour and never pleased, and doubly never pleased with Darcy.

Darcy and her grandmother didn’t get along, and hadn’t since, as far as Darcy knew, the day she was born. Francine was never cruel, never outright rude, but there was a definite chill towards Darcy that her other cousins didn’t seem to get. And it wasn’t just because of that one time Darcy set her grandmother’s dining table on fire. That was an accident, and Francine was unpleasant before that anyway.  

The mystery of Darcy’s biological father — because Rebecca refused to tell and no amount of persuasion or scorn was ever enough to get her to spill, because Darcy’s mom was badass, thank you very much — was the biggest sore spot for the woman. Francine once made the mistake of referring to Darcy as a bastard in her great-grandmother Perlman’s hearing. It was a flipping shame that Darcy’d been too young to appreciate or remember the look on Francine’s face at a dressing down from her own mother. Seeing that again would totally be worth the pain of time traveling. Maybe.

Anyway, Darcy didn’t think that her presence would tilt the scales towards familial peace with Francine.

“Do I have to?” she asked in a tone that most definitely wasn’t a ‘whine’.

Rebecca was silent for a moment, probably steadying herself to deal with a whining daughter, and then she let out a long breath. “No, you don’t have to, but it would be really great if you did.”

Darcy felt her nose wrinkle with distaste and annoyance. She didn’t want to go, it was a pain in the ass, she liked to absolutely avoid the family drama, and being stuck in a mountain resort with the whole Perlman clan sounded like the opening to a horror movie. Unfortunately, she knew, without a doubt, that she’d cave and RSVP and whatnot. But, she was going to make her mother work for it.

“A destination wedding to the middle of the Cascades, in October,” she said, trying to make her voice as dry and bland as Coulson’s when he was being pointedly sarcastic.

“It’s only a couple hours from Seattle. And it’ll be beautiful. I looked the resort up, it’s really nice. Remodeled last year with a huge new spa. Amazing views. And it’ll be autumn. You like autumn.”

Darcy did like autumn. It was her favorite season when she was at Culver, and now that she lived in New York she’d gone all tourist-stupid in love with dramatic fall colors. The seasons really didn’t change like that in San Dimas. They had hot season, and not hot season, and mudslide season, and holy-shit-everything’s-on-fire season. But not autumn so much.

Still, she had to protest a little bit. “It’ll be cold and rainy.” Rubbing at her forehead, annoyed tension threatening to cause a headache, Darcy glared at not-at-all-cold-and-rainy London.  But, it wasn’t London’s fault, and she patted the bench beside her in apology.

“I always pictured Marcia as a June bride cliche,” Darcy continued after a moment. “And maybe at one of the fancy resorts on one of those islands out there. Like Duck Island, or whatever it’s called. Moose Island? Whatever. Just, wouldn’t have figured a mountain lodge in October. For real, did she hit her head recently?”

“There’s not a Duck Island,” Rebecca sighed.

“I feel confident there’s a Duck Island somewhere. But that’s not the point,” Darcy protested. “I’m serious. This is wildly out of character. Should we be worried? Has she joined a cult? Is she doing drugs? What does aunt Jo say about all this?”

“Jo is very excited for her daughter’s wedding,” her mother replied dryly. “I would be, too. In fact, I have extensive plans and when—”

“Don’t push me,” Darcy sniffed. “Oh! Could she be Hydra? Or her fiancé? What do we know about him? Has anybody run a background on this guy? Maybe this is a trap. Darn, looks like I’ll have to pass. For national security reasons, you understand. I am a very important asset.”

Her mother made a low, growling grumble sound. “You’re something, that’s for sure.”

“So rude.” Darcy pouted and petulantly knocked the toes of her shoes together while slouching down on the bench like a put-upon grade-schooler.

“Anyway,” Rebecca said, raising her voice above her daughter’s attempt to change the subject into absurdity. “Marcia and Ben negotiated an event deal on the rooms, but only if you book by August 10th. There was a plus one with your invitation, so maybe you’d rather get a suite?”

“Meh.”

“You could bring Steve,” she said with a leading and kind of pleading tone in her voice. Her mother was never going to give up her star-spangled dreams for her daughter, was she? “I think he might be able to charm even my mom.”

“Poor Steve, what did he do to deserve being sent on the Francine charm mission? It’s practically a suicide run.” Darcy snickered. “Besides, I think bringing Captain America would kind of upstage the bride, and I thought that was the biggest possible wedding faux pas of them all.”

“How about Tony?” It seemed like her mother was as desperate for a distraction as Darcy was herself. She must be, to suggest that. Tony would be a bored in ten minutes and disaster would follow. Bad enough Darcy anticipated being bored in twenty minutes. Nobody deserved two bored Starks at their wedding. Not even Marcia.

Darcy laughed out loud. “Speaking of upstaging. Though, you know, I bet he absolutely could charm Francine. Again, I don’t think Marcia would appreciate it and it would be our teen years all over again with the screaming and the door slamming and the brawl in the dining room.”

“And the paint bomb?”

Darcy shifted on the bench and winced. Technically she was still grounded from that incident, since, as she recalled, the terms of punishment were 'until you’re thirty, young lady!’. “I’ll leave the paint bomb at home.”

“Ah-ha!” Rebecca crowed. “Progress! Look at you, ready to let go of the kid arguments with your cousin, at long last. And peace falls across the land.”

Darcy snorted and felt a little aggravated because teenaged Marcia was the actual worst. Bossy, bitchy, snooty, and prissy. So, it’s not like the war had been Darcy’s fault. Nope, not at all. “Right, did you or did you not have an argument with aunt Jo last year about how she hogged the bathroom when you were kids? Like, actually yelling at each other.”

“Well, we were finally resolving that issue,” Rebecca told her. “Sometimes it takes a while. And anyway, I’m not judging, I’m just glad. Marcia has asked me twice if you’re coming. She’s waiting for your RSVP. She really wants you to be there.”

“To show off how together her life is while I’m still interning,” Darcy grumbled. She swore she heard Jane shout 'assistant’ in her head.

“Maybe, or maybe she genuinely wants to share the day with you. She’s not the same person she was when she was fifteen, and neither are you. Give her a chance.”

Blowing out a long breath, Darcy stuck her tongue out at her absent cousin and told her mom, “I don’t know. I’m up to my ears in things; I’m not sure if I’m in the mood for a destination wedding and Marcia’s Marcia-ness.”

“Okay, look at it this way,” Rebecca argued back doggedly, “why don’t you try to mend fences, you make the effort? And then if she’s an obnoxious diva, show-off, it’ll just make her look petty and you’ll look like the bigger person. You win.”

“That’s so manipulative, mom,” Darcy said admiringly.

“I know. Give it a shot. Or bring Tony. But, I’d really like you to be there.” And that was that. That was the firm mom-voice. That was the tone of a woman who would no longer accept 'no’. She’d try and make it palatable for Darcy, but the jig was up. “So would your dad. And your brother. And aunt Jo, and uncle Hugh. That’s five people you actually like. And your great uncle Larry, who will pull a quarter from behind your ear, because who doesn’t love that trick? Right? Come on.”

Darcy scoffed and kicked at a tuft of grass by her feet. “I’m 25, I doubt uncle Larry will try the coin trick.”

“I’m 48 and he tried it on me when I saw him two months ago at his granddaughter’s bat mitzvah. Just think, free money.”

“That’s a pretty big inducement for me. You know me too well.”

“Besides, who cares how together her life is? Good for her, I say. And, you know and I know that you’re not just an intern.”

“Oh sigh, mom, sigh,” Darcy told her with a touch of melodrama. Why did she think it was a good idea to call her mom?

“Are you cracking?” Rebecca asked. “I think you’re cracking. If you agree to crack, I won’t pull out guilt.”

“Fine,” Darcy moaned. God, not guilt. “Consider me cracked.”

Rebecca was good enough not to laugh or cackle or otherwise express her triumphant glee. “So, plus one ideas? Clint?”

“Clint’s a good option,” Darcy agreed readily enough. It was a sort of topic change that was at least more entertaining to think about than Marcia or her grandmother. “He’s fun, probably won’t be able to charm Francine, but he knows how to make an escape. And God knows he’s game for almost anything, no matter how awkward. And nothing screams awkward quite like a Perlman family civil war in the middle of the forest.”

“He’ll be a hit at passive-aggressive cocktail hour,” Rebecca laughed. “Any update since the proposal? We could make it a double wedding.”

“The joke proposal. No, mom.”

“Too bad. He’s cute.”

“He’s also got a weird thing with a hot Russian assassin,” Darcy pointed out with a little laugh. “So, Clint is firmly friend material.”

“Yeah, I remember. I like Natasha; I wouldn’t mind seeing her again. She’d be a nice plus one. Though, she and your grandmother would probably try to freeze each other to death with icy stares. But,” Rebecca’s voice dropped, quieting in a way that suggested a secret — a delicious secret, “what about Bucky Barnes? I hear things. I hear that maybe you’re going on a date.”

Darcy was silent for a moment, chilly surprise slipping down her spine. That was an unexpected conversational turn. One she wasn’t sure she was prepared for. “Who told you that?”

“Steve.”

That sounded bad. That sounded awkward. Her mom and Steve were chatting buddies? She’d never survive the nagging. “When are you talking to Steve?”

“Darcy, you leave your phone all over the place. Half the time when I call you, I end up talking to somebody else. They all pick up. I talk to Norse gods and secret agents more often than I talk to my daughter.” Rebecca made a frustrated sound and then let her breath out slowly before saying, “You can tell me these things, you do know that, right?”

Her mother had a point. She’d been desperate to talk to people about Bucky for a while, and she’d talked a little bit to Jane, a little bit to Phil, but for some reason she never thought of her mom. That felt kind of unfair. Some things were a little awkward for a mom talk, but not her weird mixed up head about Bucky.

“It’s just been a little overwhelming, is all,” she said, trying to explain to herself and her mom. “Like, everything that’s happened lately. I wasn’t not telling you, I just have a billion things going on.”

“Are you going to tell me now?”

“Sure. I mean, yeah, that would be good.” Darcy blew out a long breath and nodded once to herself. “Apparently we’re going dancing. I don’t know when; that’s his deal, but he said while I’m in London. He’s supposed to visit in a couple weeks. Anyway, he got crazy stoned like five months ago — inadvertently stoned, I mean; he’s not a stoner — and he asked me dancing and I thought it was just because he was, you know—”

“Stoned?” Rebecca guessed, maybe almost kind of laughing. Darcy ignored that.

“Yes! But then he asked when he wasn’t high. And I said yes. But, then I was like, is he asking because like I’m the only girl he knows? Which is the truth. Or because he actually likes me. I mean, I know he likes me, because we’re building a bar together and it was his idea. And we go to breakfast together sometimes, but in a friend way, not a romantical way.” She took a breath before jumping into the next run-on sentence.

“But, before we figured out the dancing thing, it was kidnappings and arrests — did I say arrests? It wasn’t a real arrest, and it was like five hours tops and I laughed at them the whole time because they had no legal leg to stand on so it was mostly annoying to everybody involved — and attacks on the tower and property acquisitions and unexpected bequests and … so many things! So, we haven’t gone dancing yet. Is it a date? I don’t know. I think he wants it to be.”

“Do you?”

“ … Maybe? Okay, I totally brought jewelry to London, okay? I haven’t bought a dress yet, but that’s just because I haven’t had time. I plan on going out this weekend, and actually, I should say, that Jane and I plan on going out this weekend, and there’s no way in hell she’d let me out of it, even if I wanted, but I don’t want out, so it’s fine. I’m sure we’ll have fun and she’ll make sure I get something suitable for kicking up my heels with a greatest generation assassin. So, I’m taking it seriously and I want to go dancing with him, and I’m just—”

“Oh sweetie,” her mom finally couldn’t pretend she wasn’t laughing.

“Don’t 'oh sweetie’ me,” Darcy grumbled and then paused. “Wow, I really do sound like Pepper sometimes.”

“I’m sure your father loves that.”

“Yeah, he always says it with this panicked look on his face.” It all made so much sense now. Anyway. “So, yes, I guess I’m going on a date.”

“Can I offer a piece of advice?”

Darcy hesitated for a moment, but, that was what she wanted, wasn’t it? “Go for it.”

“Just have fun. Don’t make it bigger than it has to be.”

Not helpful. “That’s what Phil and Jane said.”

“You told the Director before you told me?” Her mom sounded hurt and like this might be something she’d hold over Darcy’s head for the rest of forever unless Darcy could head it off.

“Bucky’s my partner!” she exclaimed, throwing one hand up in the air and startling a passing jogger, who ran away faster in response. “There are protocols and crap. I told Phil after Bucky asked me out the first time, because it seemed like I was supposed to and also I didn’t know what to do. He just said to work on our partnership, and he basically wasn’t going to tell me what to do with Bucky one way or the other. Technically Bucky’s an outside contractor, so it doesn’t exactly violate frat regs. Which, by the way, Howard was an asshole.”

“Howard? Your grandfather Howard?” Rebecca asked, no doubt confused at the abrupt change in topic. “What does he have to do with it?”

“He named a sub-clause in the fraternization regs — the one covering partners — after me.”

“I thought you two got along?”

“We did. I loved the heck out of him. But, he was still an asshole.”

Her mom sighed and chastised lightly, “Don’t call your grandfather an asshole.”

“Why not? He’s dead; he can’t hear me. And if he can, he knows what he did. And he’s probably laughing. Asshole.”

Rebecca was silent for a moment and then changed to a brighter tone and tried to get the conversation back onto a more productive track. “So, what are your plans? For London, I mean. How long will you be there?”

“I’m shooting for a month,” Darcy told her. “I have to find Jane a new assistant, but I also kind of have to get back to New York.”

“And have you told Jane yet?”

Darcy’s procrastination on this issue was widely known. To everybody but Jane. She bit her lip and cleared her throat.

“Darcy, sooner rather than later,” her mom said in mom-voice. “You need to let her have time to adjust and you need to have time to hand off to a new assistant. You can’t just —”

“I know,” Darcy interrupted with a growl — though she was more irritated at herself. “I know, okay. Yes, I know. I will do that. But, let’s just, you know, get settled for a few days. I mean, we only just got here and her mom’s going to Spain or whatever at the end of the week, so they’re hanging for a while, and that doesn’t seem like the right time to interrupt. So, like, after that. When we’re settled in a little bit and I see what I have to work with, potential replacement-wise.”

“Alright, alright. You’re an adult, I know you can make the right decision.”

Narrowing her eyes, Darcy asked, “That wasn’t a compliment, was it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rebecca said in a blithe tone. “I’m going to let you go; your dad and I are going out to dinner with your grandparents. I love you, baby.”

“Love you, too. Sometimes.”

Rebecca laughed. “Oh, and call your brother. You know he goes to Argentina in a couple weeks and he said he hasn’t heard from you lately.”

“Ugh. Fine. Go do dinner things.”

“And I want to hear all about the date.”

“Bye mom,” Darcy said loudly, hoping to forcefully yet not rudely end the call.

Rebecca laughed some more. “Oh fine, goodbye. Have fun!”

eta: sorry! forgot to fix the italic tags. Also, thank you!

[mintybunnytron]

2020.11.25

Granny and my late aunt Hanh sent me a Christmas present one year. Toxic mother told me it was a photo album with pics of me granny and Hanh taken with mother and father’s camera that granny had me provide her from their room.

At the time I was angry. I had cut off everyone on fathers side except for mother. I was angry and further fueled by mother story about how they manipulated me into taking the camera from her Nd father bedroom and then gramma would never give the camera back.

I held onto to unwrapped album for years. It was with me forgotten in a drawer when I moved to LA with my ex. It came with me to Kim’s when I left that fker. Then it lived in my car trunk.

Then I had to move out of Kim’s so I had to clear the trunk to make space to move. That’s came across it.

I was filled with anger and sadness every time I saw the package.

I’d always fantasized about how to return it unopened and the hurt it would cause. Just to be vengeful. I could mail it back. I could drive to granny’s house and place it in the mailbox or throw it in the yard. Throwing it in the yard was my favorite.

The wrapping paper had seen some wear and oil stains at this point. I thought it would hurt them to see it discarded.

But it was too much for me. I always dream of revenge but I can never carry it out. I’m empathy points.... I’m not the least bit interested in hurting anyone. And with revenge.... I most definitely hurt myself in the end.

I don’t think my sister gets it when I say shitty things about them and follow up with a that’s fucked up fo me to say that. Yes the ducked up statements are true. But I feel the need to say it’s fcked up aNd feel guilty about saying it the fked up statements about them because deep down I’m a softie and care about these people who have all hurt me like hell.

But anyways I didn’t want to have the album burning a hole in my car anymore. I think I’m a fit of anger and Marie Kondo this does not spark joy So I threw it away in a trash can outside work. I didn’t want to carry it anymore.

Now I know that was wrong. It felt better than the vengeful versions i he thought of. It I still ended up hurting myself throwing it away. I should have kept it. Or given it to someone I trust for safekeeping.

Now that she’s dead I feel regret. And I hate it. Regret is useless. It’s too late. It already happenned. Move the fuck on and stop dwelling on it. It’s fking annoying hearing about regret.

I’d blamed everything that was wrong with our nuclear family on granny. And partly on Hanh since a the favorite she’d benefited from not challenging granny. It’s likely she want being manipulative and just really loved granny and sided with her big brother and granny. Idk.

I’m hard and angry and say things like everyone on fathers side are terrible evil people and I need to cut them off. Even the ones that aren’t terrible evil I have a hard time trusting because they’re still in it and I don’t trust their motives having been hurt by them before. Still in the abusive environment.

But now that Hanh is dead, I see things differently.

This isn’t granny’s fault at all. She never really left the house when she came here. Never worked real jobs here in America. She knows nothing of what it’s really like to live and work here.

Why the fuck did my mommas boy father have to listen to her. She knows nothing of the struggles of working and raising your children within American culture and rules.

Why the fuck did he not stand up to her and defend mom when HIS ENTIRE FAMILY wa fretting mother like shit?

Instead, avoidance measures. Everyone treated mom like shot and she never divorced his dumb ass. Things have gotten so bad both children don’t hVe a good relationship with mother and father. Despite the emotions abuse and manipulation and control, mother never leaves.

Which leads me to believe she likes this. She’s chosen this life. She’s chosen a bit house and a comfortable bed over her children. The trade is woth it to her.

I hate them both so much. Which translates to I love these fkers but they’re trash and fking hurtful.

Now I’m just....I’m more angry. I threw away that album because the what pushed me over the edge was mother’s story about how Granny had me steal away the camera and never gave it back.

These two fkers - my birth mother and father - didn’t take care of shit in their relationship. Mommas boy and superficial keeping up with the Jones more important than her children garbage ass parents. You two fked up everything.

I regret that I threw away the album. She’s dead and I have no pictures of her. No pictures of us. I have a stupid creepily photoshopped picture of her on the funeral program. Terrible photoshop. She looks so thin. It makes me cry.

I miss my aunt so much. You always think you’ll have more time. I cut her off because of my mother and father were just too toxic to be around. Too toxic that I couldn’t be around anyone in their circle.

And now this. Hanh is gone. Never coming back. Pancreatic cancer. It was fast.I have no pictures of me and the woman who at one point was my third parent, my roommate at 3 years old, my mentor for a bit. She always took us out and spoiled us. And derpy games for our family parties. Still gifts. Always kind and always nice and happy.

And she’s gone forever. I hadn’t seen her since at least 2014 or 2015. The last time was the tet before grandpa’s 80yh birthday.

At the end of the day I can blame father and mother but I won’t do me any good. Yea they’re both trash. But similarly to how father is an adult and he doesn’t have to be a manage mommas a boy and take granny’s advice word for word, I too am an adult.

I stayed away because I didn’t want to deal with any of those fkers related to father because for the most part they’re all evil assholes. But that’s for the most part. There are some good people there.

And one of them has already died.

I don’t want to let things sry like this as more people die. I missed out on Hanh. I don’t wanna miss our on granny or grandpa or David or Kevin. I really don’t.thw rest I can do without. But those 4.... grandpas 80th was 5-6 years ago. Thy means he’s even more old now.

I can’t miss out on them just because my father is a dick.

Idk. I have visceral feelings of panic and anger when it comes to even text communication from ANY OF THEM. So it’s going to be hard. But I have to. I cannot take anymore premature deaths. Co Hanh wa unexpected AF. Gramma and grandpa are old AF.

I guess let’s get my health together first. But I do want to see them eventually. Hopefully my surgery next month will go well.

I wanna shoot for maybe a June 2021 deadline to reach out and see each there or have lunch or something. I’d like it to be sooner but idk what’s gonna happen with my health. I don’t wanna be around these people with shot health.

I still need to visit her grave. It’s in rose hills. Pretty far. The last time I drove to that area and back I wanted to die on the way home so...Here’s to taking things one day at a time. And here’s to my health.

God fking damn. I know I ranted and repeated myself. It’s just....things I’ve been thinking.

[kek-eek]

So Many Ways to be Wicked | C.D.V

Requested?: No.  Word Count: 2,427 Pairing: Carlos De Vil / Reader

Masterlist 

Part 2

Princes and Princesses were not kind. Let’s get that straight. With, of course, the exception of Prince Ben. Legally, you were a citizen of Auradon. You had lived there your whole life in a small cottage with your mother, Little Red Riding Hood, and your great-grandmother, Granny. You were born in a world full of good, and you were good. 

    But, apparently, having blood relations to the Big Bad Wolf, your father, made you a villain. The school was not kind. Boarding school was worse. At home, when you shifted beneath a full moon, your mother would let you roam the forests until dawn broke and you shifted back to your normal self. 

    At Auradon Prep, the King and Queen had to secret you away, transporting you to a faraway forest a day before your shift, then bring you back the next morning. It sucked. But, it kept people safe. You were unpredictable during your shifts. For this, you could only curse your father. 

    It wasn’t like you could control it. And you liked to think that you were rather peaceful during your shifts, keeping to yourself as wolves do. But your peers didn’t know this. When you had heard children from the Isle of the Lost would be joining the school, you were hesitant. What if they knew your father? You expected to be ignored by the Isle kids. But, in fact, you became best friends. One, in particular, caught your attention, and you, his. And you became the best of friends. 

    You exited the forest as day broke, the cardinal colors spilling across the horizon. The blanket wrapped around you was warm and soft, a sharp contrast to the chilly morning air. A dark form stood by the car that would take you back to the school. As you stepped closer, you identified the red and white leather jacket and frosted hair.      You smiled at him weakly once you got close enough. The blanket covered your naked form, clothes torn from your transformation the night before, but you still felt extremely exposed.      “Hey.” You greeted weakly.      Carlos brought you into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Hey. How are you feeling?” 

    You released a shaky breath against Carlos’ skin, relishing his warmth and welcome. You were still surprised you hadn’t scared Carlos away yet.      “The usual. Like a freak.”      Carlos sighed. “We’ve all got a little freak in us. Ben’s dad was a beast for God’s sake. My mom talks to a stuffed dog. Being a freak doesn’t make you bad.” 

    You snuggled into Carlos, pulling your blanket tighter around you. Your thanks went unsaid. It was almost routine for Carlos to comfort you after a transformation. Stepping away from each other, Carlos opened the car’s door for you and you stepped in.      “Fairy Godmother says she’s been reading up on werewolves.” You said as you slid on some clothes left for you in the car as Carlos turned away.      “Really?” Carlos asked from behind his hands that shielded his eyes.      “She said that she feels like she’s close to understanding my transformations. And, maybe, how to control them. You can look.” 

    Carlos pulled his hands from his eyes, smiling at you.      “That’s great. But these transformations aren’t that bad, you know.”      You raised an eyebrow at him, smiling teasingly. “What, you like waking up at four in the morning to drive down to pick me up?” You teased, punching Carlos’ shoulder affectionately.      The boy chuckled. “It’s not that bad. At least I've become a morning person.” 

    You knocked sharply on Mal and Evie’s door, rocking on your heels. Clutching in one hand was Evie’s chem test, one she had dropped on her rush from the class. You were intent on returning it to her; you knew how much her grades mattered to her, and she would be rather pleased to see a big fat A stamped on the front of her test. 

    “Evie?” You sing-songed, rapping on the door again. It remained silent. You tried the handle, not expecting it to open. The door clicks and swung, revealing the room to you. You arched a brow, wondering why on earth they would leave the door open. Mal was quite secretive and loved to squirrel her things away. Whatever. 

    You pushed through the door, closing it behind you. The paper crinkled softly as you set it on the oak table to the side of the room. The two beds were neatly tidied, you noticed. Smells permeated the room, sweet and thick. You sniffed the air, eyeing the bubbling vials beside Mal’s bed. What were those? You walked over, enraptured by the glowing color of the vial. Beside the mini setup was glistening red apple. It shined in the dull lighting, delicious. You imagined sinking your teeth into its skin, the crisp snap and taste of it. 

    Before you knew what you were doing, your hand reached out and snatched the apple from its perch. You bit into you, moaning at the savory taste and strong texture.      “[Name]?”      You turned, eyes wide. The apple fell from your hands, onto the carpet, rolling to the foot of the bed. Mal’s expression was equal to yours, though as time went on it grew more and more alarmed.      “[Name]...” Mal said again, with far more caution. “Where...where did you get that apple?” 

    You grinned sheepishly, looking at your hands.      “I’m sorry, Mal. I came to return Evie’s paper, and I saw it there--”      Mal bent down, picking the apple up in her hand. Her mouth was agape. Your stomach started to churn, nausea building in your throat.      “I think I saved you one.” You grumbled out, hunching over your stomach.      Mal’s eyes snapped to you, her breath catching in her throat. Oh no. This wasn’t good. Not at all. How could you, of all people, have eaten that apple? 

    “[Name], h-how do you feel?”      You groaned out miserably, the churning of your stomach increasing tenfold.      “N-not good.”      You cried out, collapsing to your knees, Mal’s harried form rushing to you before you blacked out. 

    CARLOS 

    The clock ticked softly away in the class. I tapped my pencil rhythmically against my desk, praying that time would pass faster. It was only five minutes until the bell, but Fairy Godmother sapped the energy from each second, making them feel like hours. 

    My eyes fluttered open and closed with drowsiness. I focused on the soft chatter of students in the background. I let their voices lull me...

    A loud roar that seemed to split the earth shook me awake. Screams pierced the air, terrified and shrill. Fairy Godmother rushed to the window, her fingers plastered against the glass as she tried to get a look of all the commotion. 

    “Oh...oh no.” 

    I raised my head, trying to get a peek at all the commotion. The screams rose and fell. Snarls carried across the growls.      Evie’s voice rose above the crescendo. “What’s going on? Fairy Godmother?”      The women stumbled from the window, her face white. Her hands were folded over her heart and the room sat in still silence before Fairy Godmother ran from the room, the clicks of her heels fading. No one moved. Then, I slowly rose from the table, dread in my heart. The heavy drapes were pulled back from the windows, displaying the freshly mowed grounds. The sea sparkled not far off, the isle of the lost just on the horizon. 

    Students swarmed across the grounds, some stumbling and falling in panic. A large beast prowled the grounds. It had thick brown fur and piercing eyes, hooked claws and long teeth. It looked like a wolf-human hybrid, and with sinking certainty, I knew exactly who it was.      “Oh, no.” I mirrored Fairy Godmother, taking a shaky step back, before running from the room. 

    I burst from the castle, searching for you. I spotted you beneath the shade of a towering tree. You cast a shadow across three cowering girls, snarling and snapping at them. Saliva dripped from your jaws and your fingers flexed by your sides.      “[Name]!” I cried. Your ears pricked in recognition, your head turning slowly to peer at me. I stumbled down the steps, sprinting across the field to the tree. You watched me with bloodthirsty eyes, a horrible lupine grin curling your lips. This was not you. It was not the girl who I walked to class and studied with, nor the wolf that prowled the wood as the moon hung in the sky. It was a horrible, angry monster. 

    “[Name], what are you doing?” I held my hands out in front of me, a calming gesture, but you snarled, swiping. I ducked, dodging the blow. I could hear frantic footsteps pounding over to me.      “No!” I snapped, holding a hand out behind me, stopping whoever was advancing.      “Carlos!” Mal panted, desperation thick in her voice. “It’s...it’s my fault. She...she ate an apple...with...potion...” Mal’s voice paused with pants as she tried to catch her breath. 

    My breath faltered and I snapped my eyes from you to look at Mal.      “You did this?” I asked softly, my eyes ablaze with anger.      Male swallowed, looking at your shoes guiltily. “I-I didn’t mean for it to happen. She just came in and...”      I shook my head slowly, amazed. “You...you’ve ruined her,” I said slowly. “When she comes back from whatever...this is, she’ll be exiled to the Isle. Because of you.” I spit the last words venomously. Mal flinches. 

    Pitchy screams erupt behind me and I whip around. Deep cuts have ripped open a girls bag. Her school supplies have spilled out onto the grass, papers fluttering in the wind.      “[Name], stop it!” I bellow. Your glowing eyes snap back to me, claws poised for another strike, this one deadly. We stare at one another, locked in battle. I can see the battle behind your dilated pupils.      “[Name], stop. Look at what you’re doing. This...this isn’t you. Come back to us. Come back to me.”      I take a step forward, hands poised. I come close enough so that I can feel your hot breath blowing across my cheeks. 

    You look torn. Your body has completely pivoted towards me, the girls forgotten. They scamper away.      “[Name].” I say softly. “Come back to me.”      You whimper softly, your ears pressing against your skull. You tail tucks between your legs and your bow like a beaten dog. My heart aches as I lay a hand atop your head. The chaos behind me has taken a pause. I can feel everyone holding their breath. But I'm not doing this for them. I’m doing it for you. 

    “Mal,” I say over my shoulder, sharply. “Get a blanket.” I hear her feet patter off. I bring my lips to the tangled fur between your eyes, breathing deeply.      “I’m sorry.”      It’s all my fault. I was supposed to protect you. I was supposed to protect you from the students, and from yourself. A tear streams down my cheek.      “I’m sorry.” 

    YOU

    The air is cold around me. I shiver softly, my muscles aching and taught. Soft whispers assault my ears, and then the familiar comfort of a blanket is placed over me. Was it another full moon already? I felt like I often did after a shift. I tried to remember what had happened, but my mind fell blank. 

    Soft lips pressed reassuring kisses to my hairline, and Carlos’ familiar scent enveloped me.      “Carlos?” I asked softly, my mouth prying open in a yawn. My eyes flutter, blinking away the daylight. I hadn’t remembered it ever being this bright after one of my shifts. The scent of woodland was absent as well. This raised alarm bells. My stomach began to turn and I opened my eyes, looking around in a daze.      “Carlos?” I asked again, a note of nervousness seeping into my voice.      “Sh...” He soothed. “I’m here. I’m right here.” 

    The sour scent of fear surrounds me and I instinctively wrap my blanket tighter around me. Had I done something? Carlos peered down at me, eyebrows drawn.      “Is everything ok?” I ask cautiously.      Carlos bites his lip, turning his head to look at someone, then looking back at me. He shakes his head.      “No.” He says weakly. “Everything’s...not ok.” 

    I sit up quickly, looking around me. My first warning sign is the castle standing against the blazing sun. Next to me is a blue picnic bench, one I was sure I had eaten lunch on many times. Students crowded around me with wide eyes, pointing, staring. My heart crawled up my throat. My face flushed. I was sure I was going to pass out. I curled into Carlos’ side, the boy wrapping protective arms around me. 

    “Carlos...” I whimpered out, not sure what to say. Had I shifted? Had they seen me shift? Had I...killed anybody? Carlos read my face.      “Everybody’s fine.” He comforted. “But--” 

    “Miss [Name]!” I turned my head and watched King Adam and Queen Belle hurry over. Fairy Godmother puffed beside them, her face red and sweat crawling down her neck. The King ordered everyone away, and when they lingered, he bellowed out a command.      “All students not seen in their classes in two minutes will be receiving cleaning duties for a month!” 

They cleared out quickly after that. 

The King kneeled beside me, the Queen folding her legs gracefully.      “What’s going on?” I inquired, feeling panicky.      The King swallowed thickly and the Queen tilted her head.      “You mean...” she began. “You mean, you don’t remember?” 

    I never remember after a shift. I shook my head. The Queen pursed her lips, looking off to the side.      “You shifted, [Name]. And you attacked--”      I pushed off from Carlos, shaking my head furiously.      “No!” I choked out, tears pricking my eyes. “You’re...you’re lying. I didn’t...” My words caught in my throat and a sob left me. I covered my head with the blanket, to hide the tears streaming down my face. I was mortified. I had shifted in front of the whole school and attacked someone--

    “They’re not hurt, [Name],” Carlos said softly. His hand appeared on my covered shoulder. “Everyone’s ok.”      I pulled my head from the blanket, glaring at Carlos through my tears.      “I could have killed someone!” I snarled, then shrunk beneath the King’s reproachful gaze.      “I’m sorry,” I whispered, climbing to my feet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to..” I stumbled over myself, breaking into a sprint towards the forest. I heard protesting cries behind me, but I didn’t stop until I disappeared into the undergrowth. 

[blueflamebird]

Jotaro isn’t the best at giving advice, except when he is

fandom: JJBA

ship: Josuyasu

summary:  Josuke goes to jotaro for some advice on his feelings for his best friend. He learns a thing or two about his family as a result

Rating: G

Jotaro was many things. He was the one who took down DIO. He was stoic and hard to read. He was passionate in all he did.

The one thing he was not, was easy to talk to. He knew that for a fact.

Which is why he felt a bit justified when Josuke’s sudden statement had him inhale tea into the wrong pipe, he spit it out in surprise all over Josuke, coughing in an attempt to get a breath of air.

The two were in a coffee shop, sitting outside at a two chaired table to enjoy the summer weather. So Jotaro’s outburst got him a few stares.

“O-oi!! Watch the hair!”

“Star platinum, The World!”

As time halted, Jotaro coughed until he managed to dislodge the tea from his lungs. Jotaro took a deep breath, fixing his hat and coat as Star Platinum grabbed a tissue and wiped Josuke’s face, taking care of his hair.

“Time resumes.”

Josuke blinked in surprise, feeling his face and hair for any tea, before seeming to figure that Jotaro stopped time to compose himself. People continued to go about their conversations and business as if nothing happened, and Jotaro was glad no one in Morioh seemed to find them out of place.

The two sat in a tense silence, Josuke fidgeting as Jotaro simply gave him an unreadable, intense stare. Eventually, Jotaro got tired of the silence.

“I’m sorry...what?”

Josuke seemed to deflate at having to repeat himself, his face turning pink. “I-I said, I think I’m in love with Okuyasu.”

Jotaro let the words sink in, albeit more composed than when Josuke blurted it out the first time. He wouldn’t admit that he didn’t really know what to do. He wasn’t exactly the easiest person to talk to. He figured Josuke would’ve gone to his mother, or Koichi, or someone who wasn’t him. Not that he didn’t want to help he just...didn’t know how.

“Have you told him?”

Josuke sputtered. “WHAT?? NO! And freak him out?? No thanks.”

Jotaro raised an eyebrow at Josuke in silent question, and Josuke reddened again as he explained himself. “It’s just, Oku is my best friend, you know? And I don’t want to ruin that. But I just can’t help but notice how cute his smile is, or how much I want to kiss him and hold his hand and other sappy stuff like that.”

Jotaro was silent, giving Josuke an unwavering stare that had the younger Jojo squirming in his seat. After a few minutes he realized Josuke wasn’t going to continue, and Josuke wasn’t going to leave. With a defeated sigh, Jotaro slumped minutely in his seat.

“Good grief. Why didn’t you go to your mom? Or Koichi? I’m sure they can handle this much better than I can.”

Josuke fiddled with his own tea absently. “Normally I’d go to Oku but I can’t phrase it without getting flustered or risking him finding out. Koichi’s great but I don’t want him to slip up and tell Oku, or worse Yukaku. And I love my mom but I’m kind of hesitant to bring up matters of love with her, because then she starts talking about Joseph and then she gets all down. And I’d rather Crazy D punch me in the face than to go to Rohan or the old man, so that leaves you.”

Jotaro considered this, watching as Josuke did his best to avoid awkward eye contact. Crap, Jotaro didn’t think he’d have to deal with this until Jolyne got older, and even then he could intimidate anyone who got to close to her usually. And if he didn’t Star Platinum could.

Jotaro tried to think, but all his experiences with love weren’t exactly positive. Kakyoin died before anything could really progress with them, and he was on his way to getting a divorce with Jolyne’s mother.

Josuke was biting his lip, obviously waiting for Jotaro to react in some way, so Jotaro sighed in defeat. “You know I’m not exactly good at this.”

Josuke glanced up and sighed, pouting almost childishly. “Yeah, I figured. It was worth a shot though. Just...forget I said anything, ok? You can punch me with Star Platinum or something and make this less awkward.”

“Kakyoin died before I could tell him.”

Josuke’s eyes went wide, “What?? Jotaro, you don’t have to-”

“Let me finish.”

The firm statement had Josuke’s mouth shutting with an audible click. Taking a deep breath, Jotaro continued.

“It was...during the fight with Dio. That Kakyoin died. I wasn’t with him, the old man was. But I just remember getting so pissed off. It’s never been easy for me to show how I feel, and I would never get the chance with him. Of course I took out my anger on Dio, but after everything was said and done, I was still alone with my feelings, never knowing if he felt the same way.”

Josuke was silent, looking down at his tea with a mix of guilt and grief. Jotaro didn’t want or need his pity, what happened happened, so he continued speaking.

“I met him when he was under DIO’s mind control. Like Okuyasu with you, Kakyion was my enemy too at first.”

Josuke sat up a little straighter, picking up his tea. “Ok, how did you two become friends?”

Jotaro waited until Josuke took a big gulp of tea before responding, “I beat the shit out of him.”

Josuke promptly choked, and Jotaro stopped time long enough to move his seat exactly two inches to the right. When time resumed, Josuke spat his tea out where Jotaro was previously sitting.

“Can you not meet anyone without punching them, Jotaro?!”

“Apparently not.”

Josuke grumbled to himself, rubbing his cheek as if remembering their own first encounter. Jotaro let him linger in his thoughts, taking a small sip of his own tea before continuing.

“The old man was the same way.”

That seemed to get Josuke’s attention again, his eyes going back up to look at Jotaro in interest.

“Gramps told me after Kakyoin and the others died. He had a friend named Caesar Zeppeli, they were close and the old man was in love with him. The only difference is that Gramps actually went after him, so he knew the feeling was mutual. They got into an argument right before their big battle, and Caesar went alone to fight. He died as a result.”

Josuke looked down at his tea again guiltily. “I had no idea Mr. Joestar went through something like that.”

“There’s a lot about him you don’t know.” At Josuke’s flinch, Jotaro corrected himself. “It’s not your fault, he’s far from perfect, but he’s had his battles. Even I don’t know the whole story. Granny Susie says he went through a lot in his younger years. He was only a year or two older than I was when I fought DIO when he had his battle and lost Caesar. Grandfather or not, I wouldn’t respect him if he wasn’t at least somewhat deserving of it.”

Josuke seemed to think over this newfound information for a while before he sighed in defeat. “Both you and Mr. Joestar lost the ones you were in love with. I almost did too. I was so scared when I thought I couldn’t heal him. I didn’t want to accept it, that I lost someone else important to me because I couldn’t fix him. That’s why I want to confess. But...I just don’t know how.”

Jotaro knew nothing about Jonathan Joestar, the one DIO’s body belonged to, the one Joseph obviously respected. But Jotaro did know anyone who shared the Joestar bloodline was doomed to a sort of fate. Doomed to have their life in danger, to lose people close to them. It was passed to his grandfather, then to him, and now it seemed Josuke had to bear the burden as well.

“So wait, does this mean we’re all gay?” Josuke suddenly asked.

“No.” Curt, almost angry.

“But-”

“Bisexuality is a thing.”

Josuke pouted, but seemed to accept Jotaro’s abrupt answers.

After a moment of silence, Jotaro tried, “Why don’t you just be upfront with it? Okuyasu isn’t very bright minded, but he holds a great deal of passion. He obviously cares about you.”

Josuke visibly swallowed, brushing an invisible stray hair back into his pompadour. “Oku hasn’t exactly had a good past with people caring about him and all. He might not even like me back.”

“All the more reason to tell him. He will know he’s cared for, even if he doesn’t return the sentiment. Loving someone who doesn’t love you is painful, but doesn’t he deserve to at least know the truth, after all of this? He almost died and he is still friends with you, he won’t leave because of a confession.”

Josuke seemed to have no argument against Jotaro’s words, seeming to reluctantly agree.

“Besides,” Jotaro added. “He’s obviously in love with you. The both of you are so into each other but so clueless it’s annoying.”

Josuke blushed, “Ok but, even so, how will I confess.”

“How would I know?”

“Ugh, you’re no help!”

“You know how you blurted it out to me in the beginning?”

“Yeah so?”

“Do that.”

“JOTARO!” Josuke whinned. Jotaro fought a smirk.

“What?”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“BECAUSE IT’S OKUYASU!”

“So?”

“UGH! You’re absolutely no help.” Josuke whined, and Jotaro covered his smirk with a sigh.

Jotaro stood up and digging into his coat for his wallet. He dug out enough cash for both their drinks and a tip, throwing it on the table to signify this conversation was over. He still had a thesis to write after all.

“Good grief. You can face the likes of Yoshikage Kira but you can’t handle a schoolboy crush. Just tell him, Josuke. I haven’t led you wrong yet, I’m not leading you wrong now. The boy obviously likes you, you just need to be upfront with how you feel.”

Josuke shuddered at Kira’s name, but stood up as well with a sigh.

“You’re probably right.”

Jotaro wanted to say he knew he was right, but withheld the comment as Josuke combed back his hair and fixed his uniform.

“I just need to be brave.” Josuke continued. “Uh...thank you Jotaro. I know this was probably awkward for you.”

Very awkward, but again, Jotaro kept his comments to himself. Instead he gave Josuke a nod, and bid his farewell with a simple “good luck.”

Josuke watched as his nephew’s enormous figure disappeared into the crowd of people. With a sigh, he nervously walked through the streets of Morioh.

Because if one thing was for certain, Jotaro was right. He didn’t want to spend his days wondering if Okuyasu felt the same way. He almost lost him once, he was going to make sure nothing like that ever happened again, and he was going to make sure he had no regrets when it came to his best friend.

And so, with renewed vigor and determination, Josuke made his way to Okuyasu’s house.

[desforprez]

The Wise and Untamed

Chapter Six: Confession

Cher adjusted the collar of her shirt as she made her way to Myra’s hospital room. "Cher?" She looked over to see the doctor. "I'm so glad you came. Your mother left."

"What?! And you let her?!"

"It's her choice if she wants to deny medical attention, but it's against medical advice," the doctor sighed. "I tried to convince her to stay, but she wouldn't listen and told me to tell you she's with your grandmother." Cher heaved a sigh and made her way out of the hospital. What on earth is wrong with my mother? She acts just like Granny Ann. Am I the only reasonable one in this family?

Cher opened the door to her grandmother's house and looked around to see Loki charging for her feet. "Loki! You're okay!" Cher rubbed the back of the cat’s ears and Loki purred in delight as she bumped her head against Cher’s legs.

"Grandma found her wandering the streets. Luckily, she went straight here." Cher looked up to see Myra. Her arms were wrapped with bandages and she held onto a crutch for support. Though she looks like she just went through Hell and back, the light in her blue eyes remained dancing with joy.

Cher gave her a stern look and crossed her arms. "What in your right mind made you think it was okay to sneak out of the hospital when you're still injured?"

"Relax. It's not illegal so it's okay," Myra chuckled. Cher sighed in annoyance then gasped as her shoulder throbbed with pain. She tried to cover the glow from Myra as her mother squinted at her with curious eyes. "Where did you get all those scratches? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, mom. Just fell down a hill when I was out taking a hike.” Myra heaved a sigh and gave Cher a look.

"I've told you to be careful. Jeez, go get cleaned up. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.” Cher’s emblem ached again and she struggled to ignore it. I can't be her Sacratus. I'm too weak. She walked down the hall and over to the guest room before opening the door. Once she stepped inside, something rumbled on her thigh and she looked down to see her phone vibrating in her pocket. Heaving a sigh, she checked it to see Dahlia’s name on the screen.

“Hello?”

“You might wanna hide.”

“What? Why?”

“Did I mention Ferox have a strong sense of smell, vision, and hearing? Carina’s pissed and she’s hunting you down.” Cher blinked a few times to understand what she’s saying.

“Wait, so you let her leave the clinic knowing she's injured?”

“It's not my injuries you’ll be worrying about.” Cher jumped in surprise as she looked over to see Carina perched on the window with glaring brown eyes. Fresh bandages wrapped around her milk chocolate skin and her dark curls were a little messy from the fight. They stared at each other in dead silence and Carina’s gaze didn't waver from Cher’s. "So, are you going to explain why you left, or just stare at me like you don't know who the hell I am?"

"Why the hell are you here?! You're supposed to be in the emergency room! How are you even running around with a hole in your gut?!" Cher exclaimed, hanging up the phone.

"I snuck out, got a little help from Vexx with the whole pain thing-" What is up with everyone leaving hospitals?! "-and you know exactly why I'm here." Cher’s eyes looked down as Carina hopped off the window and onto the bed below before moving closer to Cher. "I was worried sick about you. Why did you leave without telling me or letting me know that you're okay?"

"I can't be your Sacratus anymore." Carina stopped moving towards her, hurt clearly written on her face. "I'm not strong enough and I'm not meant to be a fighter! You almost got killed!"

"I always almost get killed! Rezor spoke to you, didn't he?" Cher slowly nodded and Carina growled under her breath. "Why would you listen to him? You think I care what he or the others have to say about us?"

"You should care. They know you better than I do. They grew up with you. Rezor trained you. You think he doesn't know what's best for you?"

"And now you're defending him?! The man who called you worthless and pathetic?! What happened to the Cher I met and became friends with? She had strength and-"

"No, she didn't!" Carina looked taken aback by her outburst and Cher clenched her fists. "You keep saying I'm strong and I have the potential to be your partner but don't you ever wonder if you're wrong? I'm not strong. I never was. I don't feel strong at all. I feel scared and hurt and I don't know what to do. I never defended myself against Rezor because I agree with him. I already know that stuff and he’s just saying it out loud. Why can't you get that through that thick skull of yours?" They stood there in a tense silence and Cher’s knuckles burned red from how hard her fists clenched.

"You are strong. You shouldn't have to be scared because I'm going to help you get stronger."

"Stop saying that!" Cher struggled to keep her tears in her eyes and gritted her teeth. “I don't want to be the weak link who has to wait in the background while her friends risk their lives! Sometimes, I want to protect you. You have so much faith in me and I'm nothing but a burden." Cher stared at the ground and rubbed her emblem. "I just... want to be everything you say I am. I want to be your Sacratus." She jumped in surprise with a soft gasp as Carina stepped closer and held her face in her hands. She flicked away the tears Cher didn't realize she shed and gave her a soft smile.

"You are my Sacratus. You always will be.” Cher tried to look away, but Carina held her in place. "Don't listen to Rezor or anyone else. You're my Sacratus. I know you don't think you're strong. I know the way you fight proves that. When I got hurt, that wasn't your fault. I should've been paying attention to my surroundings."

"But-"

"Did you know Sacratus aren't meant to fight?" Cher squinted at her in confusion. "The fighter is the Ferox. A Sacratus isn't really supposed to fight since their wisdom is too valuable and the council doesn't approve of a Sacratus fighting. Rezor just wants me to have a strong Sacratus because Haru was his Sacratus and he got killed by Helios since he couldn't fight. Rezor just can't admit that he should've helped him. He's too proud."

"Is that true?" Carina nodded and settled her forehead against Cher’s.

"Don't feel bad about everything that's happened. We're following the rules. Now, will you please come back and stay as my Sacratus?" Cher searched her eyes for any hint of a lie but found none.

"Alright.” Carina softly smiled and turned to leave through the window.

"I should head back. They're gonna be looking for me. Oh, and tell your mom I'm glad she's okay." Before she could jump down, Dahlia leaped into the room, causing them both to fall onto the bed below them. "What the-?!"

"I finally found you!" Dahlia exclaimed. She gave them both a grin then crossed her legs as she beckoned Cher closer. "The three of us need to talk." Cher shared a confused glance with Carina then sat in the space in front of them. "Carina hasn't told you everything you need to know about the Citadel Union and the Ferox." Cher narrowed her eyes at Dahlia’s words while Carina gulped. "Did she tell you that she's an Elite Ferox?"

"That's a thing? Is it some title for the ones who graduate at the top of their class?" Dahlia scoffed and turned to Carina with a raised eyebrow.

“Carina didn’t even pay attention in class so it's a wonder how she even graduated.” Carina bowed her head and ruffled her hair.

"Why are you bringing this up?"

"Because she needs to know! When an Elite Ferox gets a Sacratus, the Sacratus always gets scared when they first meet! I've noticed before your guys’ ceremony, she was super chill about everything.”

"So that's why you were looking at me like you wanted to say something," Cher murmured. Dahlia nodded then turned to Carina. She let out a deep sigh and looked at Cher.

"I'm sure you know of Satan, correct?" Cher slowly nodded and Carina cleared her throat. "Have you heard of the Seven Deadly Sins?" Another nod and she took a deep breath. "Satan took in seven demons and they're known as the Seven Daughters of Satan. Each Daughter is symbolized by a Deadly Sin. When a Ferox's demon form is one of these Daughters, they're known as an Elite Ferox."

"Wait a minute. So are you saying, you have a spawn of Satan inside you?!" Dahlia gave Carina a teasing grin at Cher’s shock while Carina sighed.

"Cool, isn't it? She's the big shot in the Union! Everyone wants a piece of Cari- OW!" Cher held in a chuckle as Carina knocked a fist into Dahlia's shoulder.

"Anyways, yes. However, they aren't actually his children," Carina continued. "When an Elite Ferox is born, they are immediately placed in high-security areas and once they're old enough, they're placed in a very strict training course. If you can't learn how to control one of the Daughters of Satan, then you must be executed for the safety of the people. Rezor is the best trainer there is for Elite Ferox and since I have the strongest Sin, he had to take me in."

"Who do you have?!"

"Drum roll." They gave Dahlia a look as she patted her hands on her thighs then beckoned to Carina. Carina heaved an annoyed sigh.

"Vexx, the Sin of Wrath.” Dahlia cooed in amazement and Carina gave her another punch to the shoulder. "She's the oldest and strongest of the sisters."

"So God and Heaven are real? Why haven't you told me any of this? Why didn't you tell me how powerful your demon is?"

"Because I knew you would be scared. I didn't want you to think different of me. I'm still the same girl you've been friends with all this time." Cher lowered her chin then turned to Dahlia.

"Are you an Elite Ferox?"

"Pfft, hell no. I would've gotten executed," she scoffed. "There's no way in hell I could control a demon like that." She tugged down her shirt to reveal a lion emblem on the right side of her chest. "This is just a regular Ferox emblem. Elite Ferox have dragon emblems." Well, that explains a lot.

"Are there any other Elite Ferox?"

"Nope," Carina answered. Dahlia jumped to her feet before she climbed up to the window. 

"Well, it's time we get back. You aren't supposed to be out and about when you got a hole in your stomach.” Carina rolled her eyes and followed.

"I'll see you later, Cher. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.” Cher gave her a nod then heaved a sigh as they left. You learn something new every day. She raised an eyebrow in thought. Wait, if I have the wisdom of a Sacratus, then how come I didn't know about the Elite Ferox? How come I didn't know that God and Satan are real? How come I didn't know about the Seven Daughters? Is my power even working? Cher crossed her arms and tried to ponder on what the reason could be, but her thoughts were interrupted by Myra's call.

"Dinner's ready!" Cher heaved a sigh then walked out to the kitchen. I'll have to find out in the morning.

[smartgirlsaremean]

My Heart’s in the Highlands - Chapter 18

Fandom: OUAT, Hamish Macbeth

Pairing: Bellish, sides of Swanfire and Snowing

Rating: T

Summary: With Rumplestiltskin gone, Belle can't face going back to the Enchanted Forest without him. She leaves Storybrooke forever, travels the world, and ends up in a small village in Scotland, where she meets a constable with a very familiar face.

AO3

Chapter 18 - Double, Double Toil and Trouble - Hamish's plans speed the investigation along, and something's up with Hook.

Zelena snarled. “What do you mean, the Dark One’s son did not return? He must have!”

“There was no one by the name of Baelfire in their party, my lady,” Aurora said shakily. “He stayed behind with his own son.”

“What about the servant girl they say he took all those years ago? Belle, wasn’t it? Perhaps she could do in a pinch.”

“I met no one by that name.”

Zelena growled and waved a hand, and the girl’s head whipped to one side as if she’d been slapped. “Useless. But then, all you spoiled little princesses are.”

“Please, my lady, I - we’ve done as you asked. It isn’t our fault that…”

"Fault? No, I suppose not. Go, and if you breathe a word to anyone about this, I will skin your precious Philip alive.”

When the girl was gone, Zelena glared around her sister’s room for something worthy of her rage. Fixing on a stupid little crystal decoration on her vanity, Zelena hurled it across the room, watching with satisfaction as it shattered on the flagstone floor.

“My lady? Are you well?”

Zelena took a deep breath and turned to face Walsh, who hovered just inside the door. “There has been a...complication in our plans. The only people who would have been interested in resurrecting the Dark One stayed behind.”

“I thought the Queen was his student - would she not wish to…”

“Undoubtedly, but she would not be willing to pay the price.”

"But without him, my lady, how will you…”

"It will be more difficult, certainly, but there are other ways.” She glared into one of the many mirrors hanging on the walls. “They are not ideal, but they will do the job. We must concentrate all of our efforts on returning to the Land Without Magic. When I have succeeded, Rumplestiltskin will never have died at all, and it is I who will be chosen.”

“Winged monkeys?” Henry stared at his mother as if she were crazy. “Those aren’t fairy tale characters.”

“I know, but...well, that’s the only way I know to describe what we saw,” Emma looked rattled. “I mean, I know there are other realms, y’know? Obviously. But I can only think of one place winged monkeys would come from.”

“So now we’re dealing with The Wizard of Oz too?”

“Oz?” Belle came around the counter, her heart pounding. “I thought...I thought Oz was a myth.”

“You’ve heard of Oz?” Emma closed her eyes. “Ok, I guess that settles that. Oz is real. Fantastic.”

“And the winged monkeys are…?” Hook asked, waving his hook impatiently.

“That’s new to me,” Belle shrugged. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Well, we have.” Henry shared a look with his mother. “Only one person in Oz works with winged monkeys. The Wicked Witch of the West.”

“The woman with green skin, aye?” Hamish said, and Belle turned to stare at him. “I’ve seen a film or two.”

“There’s a film?”

“What’s a film?” Hook asked.

“Never mind.” Emma huffed. “Okay, so...so if the monkeys are here, odds are she is too. But why? What does she want?”

“Well, first we need to find out who she is,” Hamish pointed out. “And we can assume her skin isnae green in this world, because someone definitely woulda noticed that.”

“I guess that’s where the census comes in,” Emma said. She still looked a little shaken by the revelation that Oz, green women, and flying monkeys were now a part of her reality, but Hamish had to admire her grit.

“So...we still haven’t seen or heard from my mom,” Henry said nervously. “But if the Wicked Witch of the West did all this, my mom couldn’t have. She was the evil queen, not a witch.”

“I never believed Regina did this, not for a second,” Emma said firmly. “There’s no way she would have brought us back here and then not come for you. Even if she’d gone totally Dark Side, you would’ve been her first priority.”

“Yeah.” Henry looked a little mollified, and Emma put an arm around him.

“It’s almost one,” Hamish pointed out. “We should probably go see what the others have found, aye?”

Mary Margaret - she had insisted that Hamish call her that, and he’d agreed because calling her “your majesty” was still much too surreal for him - sat at the head of several tables shoved together with her husband standing just behind her. They’d moved their base of operations from the sheriff’s station to Granny’s Diner because it was more centrally located. To Mary Margaret’s right sat Grumpy, his brothers in a row beside him, and to her left was the Mother Superior with a few of her nuns. Belle, Emma, Captain Hook, Granny, Ruby, and an older man Mary Margaret had called Marco sat farther down the table.

Hamish crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, eyeing each face and committing it to memory. Under Mary Margaret’s direction, each group read out the names of unfamiliar people they’d encountered. Doc had met a young lady named Tiana he didn’t know, but one of the nuns knew her. Astrid, a nun with a brilliant smile who kept sneaking glances at Grumpy, had never met a couple called Ariel and Eric, but Ruby, Belle, and Grumpy knew them. So it went, and Hamish could see bewilderment and fear beginning to creep across every face as they worked their way through the lists and discovered not a single person who wasn’t known to someone or other.

“That’s everyone,” Mary Margaret said at last, looking over the list and frowning. “I don’t understand - I thought surely…”

“Hang on,” Hamish said, straightening. “What about the woman who visited the pawn shop today? Said she was yer midwife?”

“Oh, Zelena.” Mary Margaret frowned at the papers in her hands. “Her name isn’t listed - but she was at my house for most of the afternoon. They must have just missed her.”

“And you knew her before?”

“No, I didn’t recognize her.” Glancing around the room, her pretty face grew wary. “Has anyone met a midwife named Zelena before?”

“The name isn’t familiar to me,” Mother Superior said. She looked down the table to the row of nuns. “Have any of you heard of her?”

They all shook their heads and Mary Margaret looked faint. “But...surely...what about you, Belle? Captain?”

Belle shook her head, and Hook shrugged. “I’ve met a good many women in my time, but never anyone named Zelena,” he said. “A name like that, I think I’d remember.”

Hamish looked at Emma over her mother’s head and saw that she was staring at Hook, her eyes narrowed and her mouth set in a firm line. Mary Margaret made a distressed noise and placed one protective hand over her belly.

“What if Zelena is the witch?” she asked. “I’ve let her into my home, drunk tea she made for us...how could I be so stupid?”

“You weren’t stupid, Mom, and we don’t know that she’s the witch. Either way, we need to find her and talk to her, maybe find out if she has any other connections in town who can vouch for her.”

“I don’t really see the point of all this,” David said impatiently. “Just because we remember someone doesn’t mean they didn’t cast the curse, and Zelena’s status as a stranger doesn’t make her guilty.”

“Obviously,” Emma answered. “But all we know about the caster of this curse is that they’re going after people who were close to Rumplestiltskin and they’re magical enough to pull off the Dark Curse. Blue keeps pretty close tabs on magic users, and it’s pretty telling that of all the people who’ve come over this time, this Zelena person is the only one no one seems to remember meeting.”

“Mom, I just thought of something,” Henry said. “Belle figured out why Dad is missing.”

Everyone swiveled to stare at Belle, and she fidgeted a little as she explained the safe and the blood magic.

“They’re keeping Neal for his blood?” Emma looked pale and David moved closer to her.

“They wouldn’t have needed much,” Belle reassured her. “Just a couple of small drops would do it, one to open the lock and one to seal it again.”

“And you don’t have any idea what was in that jar?” David asked.

“Something dangerous and powerful. Rumple wouldn’t have bothered to lock it away, otherwise.”

“Okay. We can worry about that later.”

Mary Margaret stood unsteadily, and David immediately went to her side to support her. “I’m sorry, I...I think I need to lie down.” She looked around. “You’re all dismissed. Thank you for your help today.”

“If anyone does run into this Zelena, would you send her to the station so I can talk to her?” David asked. “You can reach me on my phone; I’m going back to the woods to look around. Wanna come with me?” he asked his daughter.

“Nah, I’ve got something else I wanna do,” she said. She glanced at Hamish, and he recognized that look - it was the one a partner would use to make sure you had her back. Nodding slightly, he settled back against the counter and waited. The dwarfs and the nuns filed out, the other members of the council, but Emma pointed at Hook. “Not you,” she said firmly. “I need you to stay here.”

“Your wish is my command, love,” the pirate said with a smile. “How may I be of service?”

Emma met Belle’s eyes, and Belle immediately rose. “Henry, I think there might be some information in your book that we could use. Will you bring it back to the shop so I can take a look?”

Henry eyed her suspiciously, but shrugged and agreed. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes dark and unreadable, as he left and Emma waited for everyone to empty out of the diner. When they were gone, she fixed Hook with a hard stare. “We’ve known each other awhile, Hook. We’ve climbed beanstalks. Waved swords at each other. Fought our way through Neverland.”

“Fallen desperately in love only to be tragically separated?” Hook suggested, and Emma rolled her eyes.

“My point is, you’re no stranger. You know me.”

“Oh, that I do, love.”

“Right. So tell me: why did you think you could lie to me?”

The charming grin on his face froze and slid away, and Hook’s eyes lost their roguish twinkle. “Come again?”

“When you said you’d never met anyone named Zelena, you were lying. The others didn’t notice, but I did.” She crossed her arms. “Superpower, remember?”

“I…”

“The truth this time, or things could get real ugly real fast.”

“I...well...the truth is that Zelena...she’s, er…”

Emma raised her eyebrows.

“A dalliance, alright?” Hook sighed. “A few years before the first curse.”

That still didn’t ring completely true. Hamish straightened and walked a little closer while Emma’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“And...and I’ve run into her again a few times since coming back,” Hook said hastily. “We...reforged the old connection and...well, it’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Emma asked.

“I...didn’t want you to think badly of me.”

“Why should I care who you sleep with?” Hook looked a little lost for words, and Emma sighed. “Killian, we’ve been over this. You and me - it’s never going to happen. You can romance every single woman in Storybrooke for all I care.”

“Aye, love, so you’ve said,” Hook said. “But you certainly were quick to notice that I knew Zelena.”

“Because I knew you were lying.”

“Or because you were jealous.”

“Oh my God.” Emma shook her head and closed her eyes. “Does Zelena have magic?”

“None that she’s used in my presence.” Hook shrugged, the cocky grin making another appearance. “Not the sort you mean, at least.”

“Great, that’s all I need to know.” Emma stood back and waved at the door. “Please feel free to leave as soon as possible. I’m gonna go...clean up.”

Hamish frowned as Hook watched Emma’s departure, the calculating look in his eyes not quite disguised by the exaggerated leer. When the other man turned to leave, he met Hamish’s gaze and smiled coldly.

“You really do resemble the old crocodile,” he said.

“So I’ve heard.”

“Don’t suppose you’ve any magic of your own?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Here’s some advice, then, one mortal to another.” Hook leaned close as if to impart a great secret. “This isn’t your fight, mate. If I were you, I’d leave and never look back.”

“That your usual strategy, is it?” Hamish asked.

“Are you calling me a coward?” Hook pulled himself up to his full height and glared down at him.

“All I know about you is what ye’ve told me, and you just said you’d run away in my position. If that sounds like the coward’s way out tae you, I’d say ye called yersen a coward.”

“Tread lightly, little man,” Hook said quietly. “You may have Emma’s ear for now, but I have sworn to win her heart, and when I do, you will regret crossing me.”

Hook turned on his heel and stormed out of the shop, and Hamish smiled grimly. When the pirate was gone, Emma poked her head around the corner of the door she’d disappeared behind.

“Okay, so he’s definitely up to something.”

“Aye, I’d say so,” Hamish said dryly.

“I’ll keep an eye on him. If he thinks he’s making progress with me he’ll be easier to keep track of, and you can help my Dad patrol the woods. We ran into the monkeys on the north side of town, so I’d bet there’s something out there if only we can…”

The walkie talkie on Emma’s belt suddenly squawked to life. “Emma? Emma come in!” David’s voice was high and panicked, and Emma hurried to answer.

“Dad? What is it?”

“I’ve found her! I’ve found the witch! She’s…” He was cut off by static.

“Dad? You were cut off! Where are you?”

“I’m - of the - hurry - “

“Dad!”

The walkie talkie crackled and hummed, and then went silent.