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p4nishers · 2 months

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vimes realizing he's in love with vetinari. now that. hmm. listen. how long it took for him to ACTUALLY fall in love with sybil? oh he liked her, he loved her SO much, but he wasn't IN love with her till jingo. he just thought he was in love. (that doesn't mean he loved her any less or that their love is any less, it means he didn't know her, didn't really have the time for her till he made it so. till he wanted it. really, truly wanted it.) but what would it take for vimes to realizes he's in love with vetinari? well, to be honest with you, not one damn fucking thing. like vetinari's is quite literally the thing he's the MOST stubborn about. he only starts to begrudgingly like him in fucking THUD! that's the SEVENTH book in the watch series. like my man is NOT here to play about his feelings (or, what he'd like to think, the lack thereof) for vetinari. so, what would it TAKE??

another attempt on vetinari's life? this time a SERIOUS one? or vetinari ACTIVELY saving someone sam loves? like young sam? would that. would that ever happen and how would vimes feel about it?? or would it be bc of some kind of jealousy?? or or or OR WHAT

like this is driving me insane i cant fucking figure it out bc there's no universe for me where sam vimes isn't freakishly in love with his boss but how the actual FUCK does that happen and how do i get it thru his thick skull that it's happening??? HOW

what if they like go on ambassador shit together like idk to lancre (bc this is me we're talking abt what did u expect of COURSE imma bring the old women into this) (listen. yes vetinari wouldn't ever go bc why tf would he that's why he has fucking ambassadors and VIMES but. just give me this one thing please and thank you) and sybil outright refuses to go bc sam i have Things to Take Care Of and and you can jolly well run along and do your job and and and. right. yup. go on (she wants them to spent time together for fuck's sake what will it TAKE for them to stop this bloody silly dance already she is so so so tired of toxic yaoi. give her a break) and so they go and sam is perpetually angry bc his Emotional Support Wife basically kicked him out of the house and now he has to endure this bloody fucking trip with his boss who he has Feelings that he would rather not think about and vetinari keeps bloody smiling and being bloody cheerful and bloody handsome in the sunlight and– nope. Not Gonna Go There.

so anyway they arrive whatever it's fine but obviously there was some misunderstanding some (willful) spelling error on vetinari's part and turns out everyone thinks the patriarch and his HUSBAND came to the princess's wedding which is. fine. totally and utterly fine. everyone is suupper normal about it. especially since esme is marrying A Girl. wild, right? so you can imagine how vimes is feeling. how many walls has he punched? who knows we can never know (none bc vetinari Raised His Eyebrows and he had to settle for kicking a few trees and almost rolling down the mountain. Gracefully, of course).

obviously there's the There Was Only One Bed trope. obviously there's victorian woman having gay thoughts for the first time yearning (repressed). of course there's the beast (repressed. for now). of course there's a moonlight conversation which inevitably leads to the Slight Softening of Sam Vimes's Heart and the next day which turns out to be Sam Vimes's Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day. it's the evening before the wedding. a party. with nobs. and idiotic clothes and vetinari and stares and nosy witches and vetinari and awkward conversations and vetinari and vetinari asking (ordering) him to dance and oh shit oh fuck oh what the bloody shit is this why is the bastard SO GOOD+??!!??! does he practice has he practiced will he practice and want a partner– no. no. No. NOO not happening vimes is perfectly sane and Will Not Fucking GO THERE!!!

anyway of course shit happens. of course it ends with vimes and vetinari trudging thru the forest, drenched in rain and mud and fuck knows what else and both of them have fuck all idea about mountains and vimes is fucking Pissed bc his lordship shouldn't be here i dont need his lordship here this is bloody fucking daft. sir. and he gets nothing but that infuriating fucking smile in return and a "ah, but your grace, i am simply enjoying a brisk walk. i wasn't aware that was crime" and he's fucking COVERED in mud and his clothes are sticking to him and vimes had never actually seen him WET before and there's mud on his CHEEK and his hair is mussed and. vimes walks into a tree. gets tangled up in a few tree branches, perhaps. trips and falls flat on his ass, even. vetinari laughs at him in that way of his where he's not laughing but you can tell, deep down, he IS. and vimes is still pissed. and suddenly vetinari is helping him up and looking at him from up close with that expression of his that suggests he has inside jokes with himself and he. kisses him.

what the FUCK, right? well. surprise element and all that. vimes' first instinct obviously is to fucking fight him. then he's like. oh wait oh what the fuck. THEN he's like. vetinari is actually a good kisser and im gonna fucking faint. Actually. then vetinari pulls away and goes on business as usual like not a thing happened. if vimes wasn't so fucking dazed and tingling throughout his whole body he'd bash his skull in but well. he just stumbles after him and tries to not have a heart attack.

unfortunately he doesn't have time to think about it bc fucking CENTAURS attack them. yeah. it's not a pretty fight. by the time they get back to the castle vimes is angry and tired and his whole body feels like a bruise and he's STILL fucking thinking about that kiss but he's so tired he actively cannot fucking speak so instead of punching vetinari's perfect fucking face like he planned to he falls headfirst into their bed and goes the fuck to sleep. of course when he wakes up the bed is empty next to him and he remembers last nights events and he just looks and looks and looks at vetinari's side of the bed and has this horrible sick feeling like Uh Oh. i would do anything to see how he looks like asleep. how he looks like minutes after he wakes up. the weight of his body. vimes has the weird thought that he's actually JEALOUS of a fucking bed for feeling vetinari's weight and has to go walk around the castle 5 times. while in his drawers. it's...he could've been more diplomatic about it, is all.

so he spends the whole day in this out of body shock and avoids the fuck out of vetinari and instead goes to do literally anything he can. he talks to shawn. he talks to hodgesargh. he talks to the princess about love and freaks the absolute fuck out. he tears out every root in the entire back garden in a burst of mania. he walks up and down the mountains. he eventually ends up talking to nanny and she implements her bottomless wisdom on him ('fine lad you got there, your graciousness, wanna share 'im? oh, come on i'm just having laugh no need to be like that. you wanna lock it down, if you ask me, that whole fruit basket is RIPE wink wink') which makes him reevaluate his entire life and walk up and down more fucking mountains.

this leads him. nowhere. he hasn't figured out SHIT. he doesn't even know WHAT he's supposed to be figuring out but it sure as shit something and he has this insistent urge to see vetinari but also he WILL punch a wall if he sees him with his entire Unaffected Self so he goes and roams the halls of the castle and he's going room from room searching for something he doesn't even know about until he comes across quiet voices talking and he looks inside and it's bloody fucking vetinari comforting esme's fiancee, nina, and he just. watches. he never knew vetinari could be so gentle. and it's bc he doesn't have to pretend with nina. she doesn't know who he is just that he saw her struggling with some sewing and he helped and they got to talking and she opened up about her fears for being a queen someday and he was just SO kind. and as sam watches this he quietly, quietly realizes that he's in love. and it doesn't hurt him, not like he thought it would. maybe it will, eventually, but this, seeing vetinari like this, doesn't hurt. it can't.

he walks away before he can be seen (though, no doubt, vetinari already sensed him) and just. goes and has a cigarette and tries very hard not to make a big deal out of it. but it is a big deal. and he cant tell anyone.

so its the night of the wedding, ceremony blah blah blah its all a blur until vetinari intertwines their fingers as they walk down the aisle as guests of honor and vimes' whole world narrows down to that one point of contact until vetinari drops it again as they sit down and blah blah blah its the reception the brides are flushed and dancing and happy and happy and vimes is watching them and thinking of his own wedding and also vetinari vetinari vetinari and then of course vetinari stands next to him and he's more scared than he's ever been in his life and vetinari takes his hand again and it is So Over for vimes. they fucking hold hands while saying nothing and it kills vimes but also it's the most alive he's ever felt and maybe there wont ever be more than this but if he has this he'll be fine. and he is. and they are. the end.

so what i'm saying with this is. maybe vimes just needs a few quiet moments where he can see glimpses of vetinari he hadn't let himself see before and also he needs to be hit over the head with feelings otherwise it wont work. vetinari NEEDS to make the first move bc our dear duke will never. ever ever. he doesn't even let himself THINK he wants it he won't do it unless vetinari Plagues him with the Images.

#is this anything #samuel vimes #havelock vetinari #vetvimes #discworld #gnu terry pratchett #terry prachett #for timeline im thinking hmmm after thud! but before snuff? maybe?

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meekahy · 6 months

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Bullet Train

Making this into a mini series I think!

Summary: Savannah is having a bad day, Noah and the boys watch Bullet Train, and then her day gets worse.

It's really personal to me. You know, how my family treats me and some of the events that happened in my life. Please enjoy and let me know your honest opinions! Lmao Broken by Lifehouse came on while I was writing this and I cried.

Wanna be on the tag list? let me know!

Wanna request something? let me know!

It has been one thing after another. At work, you got blamed for something you didn’t do. You tried explaining that, yet you just had to stand there and take it. You’re pretty sure there’s something wrong with your car, not sure what. But, something didn't sound right and a light kept going on and off. With your brother, he called you up after work asking for money, which you denied since you didn’t have any to give. He proceeded to tell you how much he hated you and how much of a loser you were. He went on and on. As he was screaming at you, you felt tears prick your eyes.

You pulled the phone away as he ended the call. You were sitting in your car with tears falling down your face. A quick knock made you jump and look for the source. You looked at the window and saw Noah standing there with his hands up as a sorry for scaring you. You opened the door and Noah grabbed the door so it didn't swing back to hit you as you got out of the car.

Noticing your tears he quickly retorted, “What’s wrong? What happened?” Noah grabbed you by your arms and ran his hands soothingly up and down your arms.

“It’s been a long, horrible day,” you sighed as your lip quivered.

“Oh, honey,” he whispered as he pulled you into your arms, “do you want to talk about it?”

You nodded into his chest before you pulled your face away to tell him everything. Noah nodded every so often letting you talk it out. When you finished, you huffed at all the bullshit.

“I’m sorry everyone sucks today, babe,” Noah said as he ushered you to the door of the house. “Oh, the guys are over by the way,” he informed you. You nodded, sort of relieved that friends were over but also a little exhausted from crying.

When you both walked in the front door, the guys yelled their hellos and how-are-yous at you. You smiled and said, “Hey guys, I’m alright. Just been a long day.”

“Well, you’re home now and can relax,” Jolly chimed.

“We were about to pick a movie, want to join us?” Nicholas questioned.

“Yeah! I’d love that. Let me just change out of my work clothes,” you replied walking to your room.

“What movie do you want to watch? We’ve been searching forever,” Folio called after you.

“Have you guys seen Bullet Train?” you yelled down the hall. A collective no rang through the house. “We should watch that. It’s on Netflix. It’s really good and I don’t mind rewatching it.”

After a quick change of clothes, you strolled out back to the living room where the boys pulled up Bullet Train, ready to play. Noah opened his arms on the couch and you briskly jumped into his arms. Jolly hit play on the movie as everyone gets settled in.

Everyone laughed as Lemon talked about Thomas the Train. “You’re a diesel, Folio,” Noah retorted as the movie plays.

Folio’s head whipped into Noah’s direction, “WHAT? ME? If anyone’s a diesel, it’s you.”

“Me?” Noah scoffed.

“Okay, guys, no one here is a diesel. I promise,” you reasoned, “diesels are basically bad guys, and you are all good.”

Noah squeezed his arm around you and pulled you close. You felt a vibration under your leg. You pulled your phone out and skimmed the text you just received, “What happened with your brother? He’s freaking out.”

You quickly stashed the phone back under your leg, dismissing the text for now. You leaned your head against Noah’s shoulder as he asked, “Is everything okay?” You nodded fast and returned your attention to the movie. It’s about that time in the movie where everyone is dying left and right.

“That’s a good mustache,” you blurted out, referring to Aaron Taylor-Johnson.

“Yeah, that’s a good mustache,” Nicholas agreed.

“I could grow one,” Noah replied, Folio cackled as Noah asked “What’s so funny?”

“Honey, you can’t grow a mustache like that, and that’s okay,” you soothed as you patted his chest. You quickly pecked his cheek as he pouted.

“Jolly has a good mustache,” Folio observed. Everyone agreed with mhms and yeses and returned their attention back to the movie.

After a while you were engrossed in the movie. You received another text. Your phone buzzed, this time, a text from your mom. You groaned as you read it, “Why aren’t you answering your father? Something is up with your brother. He claims that you told him you hate him and he’s been crying and freaking out.”

You rolled your eyes as the movie ended and you tossed your phone back under your legs. You looked over to Noah, who has been watching you carefully, worry etched onto his face.

“What’s going on?” he wondered quietly.

“Drama with my family that I want no part in,” you replied lazily. Noah hummed in response.

“Are you going to reply?” he asked after a beat.

“Yes, after the movie” you drew out as you pulled out your phone.

Once the movie was over, you opened your messages and put your parents into a group chat. Quickly, you typed, “Andrew called me asking for money and I told him that I had nothing to give him. He called me a loser and told me he hated me. I didn’t say anything he told you. He’s lying.”

“You don’t seem very remorseful. Andrew is very hurt,” your father responded.

“I’m not sure we believe you, dear,” your mom sent right after your dad.

Looking down at your phone, tears spilled from your eyes again, as you quickly got up and headed to the bathroom. Why don’t they believe you? You had always been an honest person; they knew that. You sat on the edge of the tub and cried. It had always been like this. Andrew had always been a liar and got away with pretty much anything. You heard a small knock on the door that draws you away from your wallowing. You opened the door slowly to reveal a concerned-looking Noah.

“I’m okay, babe. Just needed a quick cry,” you mentioned as you slid past him and headed back to the living room with Noah on your heels.

Back in the living room, Folio was trying to decide which Thomas the Train Friends each of us are. “And Savannah is a Thomas,” Folio confirmed.

“Awww,” you said as you ran up to him and gave him a quick hug to which he returned.

After you back away from the hug, you get a phone call from your mom. Sighing, you looked to Noah and the guys quickly before running to your room.

“Hello?” you said into the receiver. You heard sniffling on the other end. “Mom, what’s wrong? What happened?” you frantically responded.

“It’s your cousin, Josh,” she whispered.

“What. Happened.” you demand.

“He just got diagnosed with cancer. He’s not doing well. He was flown to the next city for emergency surgery,” she somberly replied.

It felt as if your world crumbled. Josh was one of your closest cousins. Even if he was eleven, he was still your little cousin.

“What?” was all you could reply with.

“Oh, honey, it all happened so suddenly,” she responded. She continued to talk, but you zoned out. Tears flooded your eyes. You just blinked them away, not caring about anything right now. A hand on your knee brought you from your daze. You slowly looked over to Noah as you grabbed his hand and squeezed hard.

“Savannah?” your mom questioned, “Are you still there?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m still here. I have to go mom. Keep me updated?” you tiredly responded.

“I will. Talk to you later, Savannah,” your mom said her goodbyes.

You wanted to tell Noah what had happened, but all that came out of your mouth was a loud sob. Noah swiftly brought you into an embrace and rubbed his hands up and down your body. You sat like this for a while until you were able to tell him all of what that conversation held.

“Oh, honey. I am so incredibly sorry. I know how much he means to you. If you want, we can take a trip up to go see him,” Noah offered.

“I’d like that,” you responded mournfully.

Part 2

Tag list:

@rottingfern

@crimson-calligraphyx

@lma1986

@ladyveronikawrites

@circle-with-me

#bad omens #jolly karlsson #noah sebastian #nicholas ruffilo #bad omens fic #nick folio #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fanfic

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cookiesupplier · 2 months

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A Friend Down In Hell - Part Nineteen

pairing: Nick Folio x ofc (Ishtar)

warnings/tropes: slow burn, pining, idiot in love, language, drinking, mentions of violence, mentions of torture, mentions of religious mythology.

summary: Folio can't quite tell you how long he's been dead, but it doesn't matter when he has friends like his, and Ishtar. Ishtar, with whom he fell in love the moment he met her. The problem? She doesn't know it. How does he convince a demon, who is practically immortal, to date him when he's dead? How did Ellie do it so easily?

author’s note: Unbetaed.. Enjoy! You want a background scene, a moment you thought got lost in the shuffle? Feel free to message or inbox me.. it may or may not make my outtakes eventually :P

To read from the beginning: A Friend Down In Hell Masterlist

And for those that missed Noah & Ellie's Story previously, all Hell-Verse stories will be included here: Combined Hell-Verse Masterlist

tags: @spicywhenspeaking @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @lyschko666 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @sorrowsofsilence @collapsedglasshouses @vinyardmauro @dsireland86 @4rtificialfolio @emmmm127 @badomensls @agravemisstake @sunsshinesunny @blackveilomens @jilliemiw86

Tag lists are open, please let me know if you'd like to be added to this story, the Hell-Verse as a whole, or Everything

The next weeks were absolutely blissful. Sure, they didn’t get so many planned dates exactly, but that wasn’t the point of really dating, was it? No, no, at least not for Folio, he just liked to enjoy as much time with Ishtar as possible whenever they could. Whether she started spending time at his place, which she helped him transform from the organised chaos it was, to more, just, organised. Still a little bit of chaos, he liked a bit of chaos okay. It was who he was. Ishtar had giggled when he said that, especially when his little bit of chaos had involved wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her down to the couch with him. Laughing as she landed to sit in his lap, her legs draped across him, with that her arms circled around his neck as she kissed him softly. This wasn’t cleaning, but she’d take it.

Spending time with their friends, his friends, hers, Ishtar had absolutely loved introducing him to her friends, along with the other people she worked with at the bar, save for Tony. Every time Folio had come by the bar to see her, drop her off, pick her up and Tony was there, the older soul had gotten all pompous and arrogant. Making remarks about how he had gotten where he was without being friends with two demon lords, and look at where Folio was, he was nothing. Folio had just rolled his eyes at him, it was obvious Tony completely missed the point of Hell, helping each other.

Human souls weren’t even here to work, technically, they were here to enjoy their Afterlife. Folio worked because he liked being able to do things, to keep busy. If he really wanted, he could just spend every day out by the river fishing, Nicholas had told him as much. Instead, he chose to spend his time helping at the door with Jolly, and now Ellie. Tony, it was obvious he just liked pushing people around, which is how he ended up where he was. Really, how did he escape punishment with that attitude, Folio did not know. As it was, the man, despite being a good inch shorter than him, did everything he could to make sure Folio knew he looked down his nose at him. How he had a better job, and Folio was nothing more than a ‘Walmart Door Greeter from Hell’.

Asshole.

Folio dared him to say that if he ever had Ellie’s baseball bat within reach, he dared him.

No. No. He knew he couldn’t do that. It would be so stupid if he did something like that. Tony was one of Ishtar’s bosses, after all. He didn’t want to make life worse for her at work, him treating her horribly just because he punched the guy? Though as tempting as it may be, and it was so sorely tempting, it wouldn’t be worth making her life more difficult if he could help it. Unfortunately, there were some things that life didn’t make easy at all.

It had been almost six weeks since Folio had officially asked Ishtar to be his girlfriend, and he couldn’t be happier. He made sure to spend as much time with her as he could, whether at her apartment, or at his. Today, however, he’d wanted to surprise her before work. He decided to bring her some dinner from home so she didn’t have to eat on the go while working. There were some nights she went home barely having gotten to eat anything at all, and he hated seeing that. So yes, tonight he was bringing her something to eat before work, before she was rushed off her feet during work hours.

Folio however wasn’t prepared for what he found when he walked into the bar, however. Ishtar wasn’t out front, from what he could see, she was probably working out back with the inventory, or some other menial task that Tony had set for her as per usual. Before he could ask any of the others where she might be, that was when he noticed just who was here. Folio couldn’t help but feel utterly disgusted at the scene that was in front of him.

Of course, it was Tony, who else, leering at one of the younger demoness’ that worked at the bar, she was even younger than Ishtar. Kera had only just started working here a year ago. Folio remembered when she had started work here, Kera had been so excited. This was literally her first job, she was one step up from being an unpaid intern at this point, and had been talking constantly about how much she hoped to be like Ishtar one day. Folio remembered it as clear as day, as he had been thrilled to know that other demons looked up to Ishtar, and how she inspired them even. Especially the ladies after all, too many of the guys kicked them down, pump up the ladies, always!

That was why seeing Tony now, now not only leering at the young demoness, but pawing at her like the piece of disgusting filth that he was? It was disgusting. Damn, he hated seeing him treat the employees like shit, and even worse, Kera, who was literally younger than him, at least in this lifetime, she didn’t even have any memories of her past lives yet. To her, Tony was the asshole that had power over her, and far too much control over her life through her work here, the fact that he was a human soul made it worse. There were some demons that liked to throw their weight around against humans, and Folio knew that, he hated it, but that didn’t mean humans should do it either, and Tony, he did.

When Folio saw him leering at her, pawing at her like that, he dropped the container down he’d brought Ishtar’s dinner in on the end of the bar, and marched his way over to where Tony was standing with Kera. Maybe, maybe, he should have taken a breath, paused and thought about what he was doing before he acted. However, all he could think about was how he’d feel if Tony was trying to take advantage of Ishtar, and everyone had just stood by and watched. No one stepping in and standing up for her as young as Kera was. So of course Folio had to do something when he saw him trying to grope the young demoness while she was trying to wash down tables and get them ready for the night.

Marching up to Tony, he grabbed at his arm and pulled him back from Kera.

“What do you think you are doing, leave her alone!”

Tony, being the puffed up asshole he was, sneered at Folio, ripping his arm back out of his grip.

“Unhand me you, you, nothing!”

Oh, oh, that was a really intelligent insult, Folio raised an eyebrow at him as he sneered before giving him a forceful shove back.

“I’ll do whatever I damn well like, you little shithead, and don’t you ever fucking touch me again.”

When he went to grab Kera again, this time seeming to pull her towards the back, mumbling about having a different job for her now, Folio’s stomach turned. Hell no. He was not going to let what that was, happen, he didn’t even want to know what it was.

“Fucking hell no, you don’t.”

Folio knew he shouldn’t, he knew, but he was moving before he thought about it. Reaching out towards Tony even as he was turned away from him again, facing Kera to try to drag her to the back, so Folio was assuming, his fingers grasped out for the older man’s shoulder. He gripped at him to pull back as to force the other man to stop short and turn back to him. Then, acting on pure impulse, Folio had formed a fist, and he lashed out, bringing his knuckles slamming right against Tony’s jaw the moment he turned to start to mouth off at him again. Folio didn’t even give him the chance this time.

This was not the first fight Folio had been in, he had been in a great many when he was alive, admittedly, he hadn’t been in quite as many since he’d been dead. After being tortured in Hell, well, he didn’t really see the point in drag down fights anymore. Sure, sometimes there was still a thrill in doing something stupid, but he’d rather get on his bike and go screaming down the highway for that now. So, while striking his fist into Tony’s face wasn’t something that wasn’t exactly new to Folio, it was certainly something that he hadn’t done in quite a while.

“Get your fucking hand’s off of her asshole!”

It seemed to be all that it took was one punch for Tony to be sprawled out back onto the table that Kera had just been wiping down. Folio saw the way his eyes widened, the panic that took them, the fear.. He hoped Tony remembered that feeling, because it was the kind of feeling he kept forcing on his workers when he pushed them around, and Folio hated seeing it. Of course, the moment he thought that, he swallowed and felt guilty, knowing he shouldn’t have done that himself, he wasn’t a bully. Then when he saw Kera he remembered why, it wasn’t about being a bully, it was about protection.. He turned to her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yea, thanks, I’m,”

Her gasped alerted him before anything else, and he was turning just in time to see the flint of something shiny reflected off a glass on the bar. Folio moved with pure instinct. Years of being a bartender, years of being a biker, years of having to deal with drunks, and assholes, and just plain bastards of epic proportions, he knew how to handle Tony. Folio grabbed Tony’s wrist, twisting his arm completely backwards from his body and angling it with a twist to the side, so there was no way he could use it. Hearing Tony yell out in pain as Folio used his other arm to slam him, bodily, face first down onto the table. Tony’s cheek had hit the flat surface, Folio kept hold of his arm stretched out, careful of his hand with the switchblade in his grip, he was disgusted.

“Did you just try to stab me? Why?”

He was already fucking dead! What was he trying to do, kill him again?! Holy Shit!

“Nick!”

Folio looked up from Tony as he heard Ishtar call out in shock at what she was seeing from where she was standing in the doorway to the back staff area. He almost immediately smiled seeing her, flushed with relief, so glad she was okay, okay, and safe from this whole issue. Unfortunately, that was when Tony started yelling at the top of his lung about the trouble that he was causing. How he was going to destroy them for this, how he was going to destroy them both.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.. No, no no..

He had just wanted to help Kera, he didn’t want to make things worse for Ishtar, what had he done.. Why did he have to pull that knife on him, he was a complete idiot! Nick let him, but not without plucking the knife from his fingers, fuck him, he wasn’t letting him keep it, let him try to demand it back in front of everyone. Let him admit in front of Ishtar and every employee in the bar that he’d just tried to stab Folio, and that he’d been actually defending himself!

While Tony scrambled up to his feet, yelling blue murder at them both, Ishtar rushed over towards Folio, and hurried him out from the bar through the front door.

“Princess, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I just wanted to bring you dinner, I just, I’ll go in and apologise to him, I just-”

“NO!”

Folio drew in a show sharp breath slightly with the way she exclaimed.

“I think you’ve done enough damage tonight, go home, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Folio watched her go back into the bar.. Going over what she just said in his head.. Fuck..

Enough Damage. Fuck.

What the hell had he just done? He’d screwed up everything for her, hadn’t he?

She was never going to forgive him.

Dividers @saradika-graphics (stained glass) & @cafekitsune (MDNI)

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itspdameronthings · 3 months

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in Loving memory

Summary: here is my entry to@triplefrontier-anniversary celebration. This is a really sad one. sorry about that. this is a tribute for one of our own ,@aellynera who is now with the angels. She was one of a kind . Hope she loves this. she loved Oscar. Most of us knew she loved Triple frontier ,and anything with oscar. ha ha!

the fic deals with him mourning his love.

Wish people would stop asking how I am doing. Want to be alone! Let me fucking be! Let me grieve in my own way! Others never lose the love of their life like me. My Alleycat. One of a kind. Talented writer . Yeah. She loved to write short stories. Did that to take her mind off her illness. I found out about it four years ago when she would get sick a lot. Doctors ran test after test. Until … she was in a coma! Scared me half to death. Prayed for more time with her. Wishing Columbia never happened. Took me away from her! God! Why ! Why you called her home so fucking soon! Took my dad ( Which I didn't have to say goodbye to!) Took me years to get past the hurt. Feel so alone! What now!?

Haven't left our room since the funeral. That was the hardest thing to do. Say bye to my heart. Others are part of me. My Ying to my Yang. Treasure the moments we shared last year from going to a Broadway show in New York that stars her favorite actor. Okay, I saw why she likes him. Told me he looks like me. Smile at the memory. Oh Ally girl, wished we had more time together. Make even more memories. I’ll treasure them always. No matter what. I'll never find anyone like you darling. Promise you that.

I'm watching Revenge of Jolly right now. Try to laugh. Haven't been able to do that. I remember coming home from a horrible day. She was watching it. Okay.. kind of corny.

I watched it,and oh shit! Was so corny.

After the movie. I play some of her music. Oh how she loved the 70’s and 80’s. Her taste was all over the place! Like Dan Reed network. Played it a lot. Some country. Oh how she loved when I sing. Even with Benny. Speaking of him. Oh how he misses her. Like his big sister. Always teaming up to tease the shit out of me. Will and Frankie too loved her as well.

Her family gave me space that I needed. Mention if I need anything to let them know. That's sweet. Even Benny's girl, Paige comes by with food ,and tries to clean the house. Which looks like inside my head. She is grieving like me. Both of them were close. Like the same things. Same kind of sass. Which is comforting. On this day Paige brought me a note Ally wrote before she passed. Said for me to read it. Cant! Cant fucking do it! What can she possibly tell me that I already know! Paige told me it would help the healing process. Putting it on my nightstand for the time being.

Few days later Will texted me to come over for a surprise get together at his place. Others will be there. Too soon! Not ready to go out! Oh got a text from Paige:

Paige: Look, I know what you are going through. Been in your position when my dad passed away. Couldn't function. Took me awhile to realize that my dad didn't want me to wallow.

Santi: wallow? Think I'm wallowing?

Paige: a little. Have to get out at some point okay? Ally wouldn't want you to be sad forever. Have a lot of people in your corner. Besides, I need you at the gathering. So does Benny.

Santi: Oh.. the gathering has to do wop,ith you two?

Paige : maybe.

Maybe she said. Just like Ally . So secretive. Guess I have to bite the bullet,and read the letter. Sitting in my worn out, black leather chair. Starting to read:

My Santi baby( hot sauce) ,

Wrote this before my condition got so bad that I couldn't communicate anymore. Wanna tell you I love you soo much. Have been the love of my life for a long time, baby. Sorry for worrying you so much about my illness. Always there when I told you about it. So grateful for that.

Have a request for you. Live life to the fullest,but first thing first.

Get your knees checked out! Don't let it go too long! Hate to see you in pain. Do it for me. Secondly, it's okay to love someone new. Want you to be happy. It's okay to love someone else. Thirdly, let the others take care of you. I mean it! Have been a leader far too long. Let them take some of the slack okay?

Last thing my love I treasure all of the time we shared in our short time together. Never in my wildest dreams we found each other. Be strong .

Hold the note close to my heart. Tears fell again. Thinking about what I have to do. First thing. Time to get cleaned up. Meaning shaving my scruffy face.

Took a breath as I knocked on ironhead’s door. Benny opened the door. Hugging me so tight I couldn't breath. Others hugged me. Even Paige. Asked me if I was okay. Squeezed her tiny hands and told her I read the letter . Told her I'll do what she says.

Benny made his special announcement. Him and Paige are getting married. So happy for them . Hope both of them have a wonderful life together. Looking up at the evening sky knowing she is in heaven watching. Guiding not just me,but all of the people she cares about.

#triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #oscar isaac #@triplefrontier-anniversary

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eirinstiva · 24 days

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“Death, where is thy jolly old sting?”

My dear friend Bertie Wooster in engaged to Honoria Glossop! Congrats? Well, poor Bertie is not so happy with this arrangement. Honoria is dedicated to mould him but Bertie doesn't enjoy culture in the same way. Probably he feels like he's at school again.

“Bertie,” she said, suddenly, as if she had just remembered it, “what is the name of that man of yours⁠—your valet?” “Eh? Oh, Jeeves.” “I think he’s a bad influence for you,” said Honoria. “When we are married, you must get rid of Jeeves.”

Jeeves is essential in Bertie's life! How dare she to separate them? ¡Ven pa' acá, Honoria! [swears in Chilean]

“Bertie,” she said, “dear Honoria does not know it, but a little difficulty has arisen about your marriage.” “By Jove! not really?” I said, hope starting to dawn. “Oh, it’s nothing at all, of course. It is only a little exasperating. The fact is, Sir Roderick is being rather troublesome.”

There's a light in Wooster future, I guess. If Sir Roderick doesn't like him there's a chance to break the engagement, but there will be new problems with Aunt Agatha. Hard choice, dear Bertie. It's a good idea to see what Sir Robert dislikes:

Don’t giggle nervously: try to keep that horrible glassy expression out of your eyes: don’t yawn or fidget; and remember that Sir Roderick is the president of the West London branch of the anti-gambling league, so please do not talk about horse-racing. He will lunch with you at your flat tomorrow at one-thirty. Please remember that he drinks no wine, strongly disapproves of smoking, and can only eat the simplest food, owing to an impaired digestion. Do not offer him coffee, for he considers it the root of half the nerve-trouble in the world.”

Basically, he dislikes Bertie's life style

“I should think a dog biscuit and a glass of water would about meet the case, what?” “Bertie!” “Oh, all right. Merely persiflage.”

Just as in the Holmes family, "art is in the blood" (neurodivergency, I guess) and in Wooster familty, Uncle Henry’s eccentricity is the trait that Aunt Agatha fears a lot, but I don't understand why is she so afraid of Henry's love for rabbits... unless he liked another type of bunnies...

Sir Roderick is very smart, but his vibes doesn't match Bertie and my old chap is masking a much as he can. The fact that he doesn't like cats and apparently there's a cat hidden in Wooster apartament makes this harder.

Will Jeeves and Wooster be separated? Honoria has Aunt Agatha on her side, Jeeves has the power of friendship and luck on his side. Good luck, Bertie!

#letters regarding jeeves #sir roderick comes to lunch #RODE #jeeves and wooster #reginald jeeves #bertie wooster #letters in the underground

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cloudninetonine · 2 years

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Linktober: Boat/Vessel/Ship

“There once was a ship that put to sea, the name of the ship was Billy of Tea-”

“The winds blew up, her bow dipped down, oh blow my bully boys, blow~”

In this situation, many would say they had no idea how they got here. Which was fair, it was an odd one and it had left you puzzled for the first half an hour as both you and the Hero of Winds completed the task. But you weren’t, you knew exactly how you ended up in this situation, sailing across the Lake of Hylia, to collect the scales of Farosh.

There was a reason for it, but in all honesty, you hadn’t been paying attention, too thunderstruck by an actual in real-life dragon.

But you digress.

You’d offered to team up with Wind, after all in these past few days you hadn’t gotten to spend time with your favourite sailor, barely even a second so now was your chance and you weren’t gonna miss this chance, neither was he seeing as soon as you were both given the all clear you were racing across Hylia Bridge to get down to the old rickety sailboat that sat upon the water’s surface waiting to be used.

You were even more excited to see Wind’s real talents in action, to see him work his sailor magic not to mention see the Wind Waker in action.

And of course, you taught him a few good shanties for the occasion (and he, with you).

Pressing shoulders together you both bellowed, certain the boys upon the bridge could hear your shrieks as you sang.

“SOON MAY THE WELLERMAN COME, TO BRING US SUGAR AND TEA AND RUM, ONE DAY, WHEN THE TONGUING IS DONE, WE’LL TAKE OUR LEAVE AND GO!~”

The cackles that left the both of you were jolly, pushing at each other playfully, coming close to falling from the deck a few times.

“You know, sailor,” You started, tugging him to your side to give him the smallest of side hugs. “You’re not too annoying- I can say with confidence that I like spending time with you.”

He huffed, crossing his arms. “Coward, afraid to admit you like me?”

“I don’t like you, Link, I love you, you’re basically my little brother..”

You’d never be afraid to admit such a thing, this boy was basically your little brother, one of your closest friends in the span of only a few months and you wouldn’t change it for the world. He made the moments here much easier to bare, made everything feel less suffocating, was your shoulder to cry on and you, his. The both found comfort in each other during such difficult times, away from your families, fighting horrible monsters- you loved this boy like he was your own flesh and blood, and nothing would change that.

“I love you too.”

The smile that had grew on Wind’s face was nothing short of happiness, which only seemed to fill your heart with the same emotion, after all why wouldn’t you be happy to know he would see you in the same light? Your little brother and his older sibling, a dynamic duo that you would continue to hold dear even when you were gone from this world.

“You’re still annoying though.” And with a single push, you launched him right into the lake, following seconds after when his steel grip didn’t relent and dragged you right into the water along with him.

#Linktober #Linktober 2022 #linked universe #linked universe x reader #lu #linked universe imagine #player au #a player's aid #lu Wind

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cower-before-power · 8 months

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Sweet Tooth

Summary: Needing a break from the absolute drag that is your bitchy cousin's wedding, you slip outside for some air. Luckily for you, a cute waiter and a stolen bottle of champagne are ready and waiting to sweeten your night considerably.

Pairing: Modern AU Connie Springer x F!Reader

Word Count: 2,684

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, drinking at work, dub-con (because Reader and Connie are tipsy), implied/referenced sexual content (including unprotected sex, outdoor sex, sex with someone you barely know, oral sex/cum eating), horrible horrible sex puns involving food, rusty writing.

A/N: HEY LOOK MA, I WROTE SOMETHING!! I started this fic ages ago, but only had the motivation to finish it recently thanks to joining The Coffee Corner discord server. This is for their Slice of Life collab, I hope you enjoy some funny Modern AU adult Connie, thank you for reading, likes and (especially) reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️.

————————————————

You breathe a sigh of relief as you slip outside into the refreshing evening air. The thumping of music and sounds of people talking dull as the door clicks shut behind you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like weddings. It was just that you didn’t like this wedding.

Your cousin had always been a spoiled brat, a pouty, whiney thing that threw tantrums whenever something didn’t exactly go her way. They two of you had never gotten along, and you knew your parents did not exactly like that side of the family. But they wanted to avoid being reamed out for the next 20 years, so when the invitations arrived, your dad checked off “Yes” with a what could only be described as a world-weary sigh.

You knew she didn’t actually want you there. It was a chance to show off, to show how wealthy her poor (and dumb) husband was and how lavish of a wedding she could throw. If there was one thing that stayed constant, it was her need to always be the center of attention.

“Need a light?”

You whirl around, hand clutching your chest as you come face to face with bright eyes and a toothy grin. Your heart does a strange ga-lump that has nothing to do with being startled; it’s him.

The guy you’ve had your eye on all night, one of the only bright spots in this whole wretched affair. You’ve dubbed him Cute Waiter in your mind, his boyishly charming good looks and happy-go-lucky demeanor like a beam of sunshine through the gloom. He wasn’t assigned to your table, sadly, and you’d been wondering how you would be able to strike up a conversation with him.

Seems like something good may be coming out of this night after all.

“I-I don’t smoke,” you shake your head, frantically trying to reclaim a tiny bit of composure. “Just out for some fresh air.”

“Oh, my bad,” he says cheerfully, stowing the lighter he’d been holding out back into his uniform pocket. “It is kind of stuffy in there, isn’t it?”

You sigh in agreement. “And loud. And mentally exhausting. If my cousin rubs it in my face one more time that she’s married and I’m still “hopelessly inept” at finding love, I’m not responsible for what will happen next.”

Cute Waiter laughs, loud and jolly like he’s auditioning for the role of Santa in a school play. It’s surprisingly adorable. “Yeah, because love is totally in the air tonight.”

You giggle at his words. “She claims it’s love, but trust me; their marriage came to be because of money and the fact my dear cousin does not take no for an answer.”

Cute Waiter leans against the wall of the venue, hands tucked into his pockets as he continues to flash that mega-watt grin. “Yeah, I got the vibe. Wanna make bets about how awkward their night’s gonna be later?”

You snort. “I’m certain she’s just been laying back and thinking of platinum credit cards and shopping sprees for the last two years, and that poor bastard has no idea. He’ll probably be convinced it’s a night of romance while she’s planning the layout of their new mansion in her head.”

Cute Waiter shakes his head, chuckling. “Damn, are we sure they have a chance? Maybe I’ll be serving food at their divorce party. Or his funeral after she murders him for the dough.”

Your face hurts from how much you’re smiling. “Is it bad to say I hope so? The food is very good.”

“Niccolo is quite the whiz in the kitchen,” Cute Waiter agrees genially. “You can’t get much better around here.”

Almost in slow motion, you see your opening being laid out before you. Bolstered no doubt by the two glasses of wine at dinner, and encouraged by the fact he was just so cute and funny, you make your move.

“Of course, I also hope it would mean I’d see a certain man I’ve dubbed Cute Waiter again.”

The man in front of you blinks, eyebrows raising as his face morphs into an strange expression of surprise and amusement. “Cute Waiter, you say?”

“Yes,” you nod, determined to see this through now that it’s underway. “I’ve been wondering how I could get a chance to talk with him all night, but he’s been very busy.” You feel your face warming under his hazel stare. “Imagine my delight to find he’s not only cheerful and good looking, but extremely funny and easy to talk to as well.”

Cute Waiter’s cheeks bloom a lovely shade of pink. “That’s-wow. The prettiest girl at this wedding just-do you really-I mean, thank you,” he stutters out, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Connie.”

You duck your head shyly at his compliment, your own name murmured softly as you try to calm your thrumming heart. “Hello, Connie.” You stick out your hand out, heat now racing down your neck as you inwardly cringe at your own awkwardness.

Connie grins, taking your proffered hand in a gentle grip. You try not to think of how warm his hand is as his fingers curl around yours. “I think I liked Cute Waiter better.”

You could probably cook an egg on your face at this point. “Well, it’s still a true sentiment anyways.”

Connie chuckles. “You’re good for my ego.” His gaze drops to your still clasped hands. You stammer out an apology, attempting to snatch your misbehaving limb back, but to your surprise (and excitement), he grips your hand tighter.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Your eyes widen as your heart gives an excited thump. “What? Right now?”

Connie nods, eagerness rolling off him in waves. “I’m thinking you, me, and that massive bottle of expensive champagne I saw on the gift table deserve to get to know each other a little bit better. Preferably away from the god-awful vibes this place is giving off.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, but there’s no denying the thrum of excitement beneath your skin.

“You wanna skip out of work, steal someone else’s booze and run off with a girl you’ve known for all of 10 minutes?”

Connie grins. “If that girl is you, then hell yes.”

Laughter bubbles up from your chest like fizz in a soda can. “Then lead the way, Cute Waiter.”

And that’s how you find yourself down by the lake, sprawled out on a stolen tablecloth, tipsy giggles escaping the both of you as the champagne bottle is passed between you. Your animated chatter fills the twilight hour, talking about anything and everything. Connie is easy to talk to, open and free with what feels like a genuine interest in what you have to say. It’s nice. You don’t want it to end.

“This stuff is horrible,” Connie hiccups, shaking his head as he hands you the bottle. “Why do rich people have such garbage taste in alcohol?”

“I like it,” you grab the bottle from him, hugging it to your chest as if it was a beloved teddy bear. “It tastes like sunlight in a bottle. Maybe I’ll serve it at my wedding. If I ever get one.”

“You will,” Connie states matter-of-factly. “You’re super smart, pretty, funny, and nice. The only thing that sucks about you is your choice of drink. This shit is worse than pond water.”

You gasp in mock offense, your stomach doing somersaults at his compliments. “Okay, you are not invited to my hypothetical wedding, Mr. Meanie! How dare you insult the nectar of the gods?”

“Nectar- sweet mother of mercy,” Connie snorts, wrinkling his nose as you take another sip. “You’re too drunk to think straight, next thing you know you’ll be telling me you loved that horrible monstrosity your dear cousin calls a wedding dress.”

“I’m not drunk,” you giggle, “just a little tipsy. And no way am I ever wearing a dress like that. She looked like an over frosted cupcake-and that’s being nice.”

“Mmmmm cupcakes,” Connie sighs, rubbing a hand over his stomach. “Damn it, should’ve nicked some food, I’m hungry now.”

“Oh! I can help, one sec,” You wiggle around so you can reach your handbag, rummaging around until you find what you’re looking for. “Tada! Emergency Twinkies. I stashed some in case the food here was garbage, thankfully it wasn’t at all but you never can be too careful.” You nod sagely at the boy beside you.

“Shit, are you an angel?” Connie breaths, eyes going big and dopey as he takes the proffered treats. “Twinkies? A bunch of Twinkies in your bag. Just in case.”

“I always carry one at least,” you feel your heart going all gooey at his starry-eyed amazement. “You never know when you’re going to need a snack.”

Connie groans, low and deep in his throat, and you squirm at the sudden heat pricking at you. “You are literally the most fucking perfect girl. I am so glad I picked up this shift.”

“I’m glad I came too,” your smile is threatening to break your face in half, but you just can’t help it. There’s just something about Connie that makes you feel warm and blissful, like the first sip of perfectly prepared coffee as it bursts on your tongue.

You stare at each other, silly grins and hazy eyes and all the hope of youthful infatuation.

You don’t know who moves first.

What you do know, is that Connie kisses like he laughs; full, deep and with purpose. His mouth is warm and sweet with lingering champagne, and you whine as he cups the back of your neck to push you even closer to him.

Maybe it’s the buzz of the alcohol, or the sweet song of the crickets, or the thudding of your heart when Connie licks into your mouth like he’s going die if he doesn’t taste every inch. It could be the thrill of being desired, the delicate bloom of two young hearts connecting as if you were in some sort of sappy fairytale. You don’t really know, nor do you really care.

But you let Connie lay you down on the tablecloth, let him ruck your fancy dress up, let him touch you until you’re trembling like the leaves in the warm spring breeze.

“This ok?” He’s got one hand beside your head, the other stroking your inner thigh gently. “I uh-this wasn’t my intention, not right away anyways, but like, you’re so fucking cool and hot and I really really like you and-”

“Yes, ohmygosh yes,” you interrupt his rambling, clutching at his shoulders desperately. “I’m good. Fantastic. Wonderful. And very horny, so please hurry up.”

Connie huffs a laugh, leaning down to kiss you as you help him free himself from the confines of his pants. After that, only the soft light of the nearly set sun is the witness to your bodies meeting, your groans and sighs carried away on the gentle summer breeze as you let yourself drown in pleasure.

When you’re both spent you lay beside each other, panting and grinning as your heartbeats slowly return to normal. You feel floaty, fizzy with satisfaction, like you’ve downed that whole damn bottle of champagne in one gulp. You can’t remember the last time you felt so good at the hands of another, and you can feel yourself itching to grab the man beside you and have him do it again.

Suddenly, a thought niggles it’s way into your fuzzy brain, and you snicker loudly.

“I hope that’s not in response to my performance,” Connie reaches over to pinch your cheek affectionately.

“No,” you titter tipsily, swatting his hand away. “I was just thinking….now I’m a Twinkie.”

Connie scrunches his eyebrows. “What?”

A snort leaves you. “I’m a Twinkie….because now I’m filled with cream.”

You dissolve into fits of giggles as his mouth drops open in surprise.

“Ugh, no fair!! You can’t make jokes like that!” Connie digs his fingers into your ribs, grinning as you shriek in surprise. “Not unless you want me to fall in love with you!”

You squirm away from his questing fingers. “Slow your roll there, cowboy,” you warn, but your heart is light and your skin is tingling. “At least take me on a date first!”

“I suppose,” Connie sighs dramatically. “But you better reign in that charm! One more stashed snack or raunchy joke and you might never get rid of me.”

The thought isn’t unpleasant. “You better not come home with me and look inside my bedside drawer then.”

“Oh?” Connie waggles his brows suggestively. “Whatcha got in there, hmmm? Some Skittles and flavoured lube? Fuzzy Peaches and fuzzy handcuffs? Edible candy panties? Please say edible candy panties.”

You laugh as you sit up, feeling for your bag. “Why don’t you come over after work and see? Assuming you still have a job, that is. I don’t think you’re supposed to drink and have sex on the clock.” You shimmy in triumph as you fish out your phone. “Here, give me your number, Cute Waiter Who Is Also Pretty Good At Sex.”

Connie smirks, grabbing your phone as he sits and pulls his own out of his pocket. You take it eagerly. “Don’t worry, I’m still employed. Niccolo owes me like a million favors, considering I’m the reason he and his fiancé, aka my best friend, are even together. That’s why I even have this job.” He winks, handing your phone back. “Ah, the joys of nepotism.”

“Sexy,” you giggle as you swap phones. You smile when you see what he’s saved his contact as: Cute Waiter Who Is Also Pretty Good At Sex. Part of you feels a sense of disbelief; did you really just hook up with a hot, sweet, funny guy at your cousin’s wedding? And now you’re getting his phone number? After all the shit you got tonight for being the lonely single loser?

Take that, you frigid bitch.

Connie looks at his phone. He groans loudly as he reads what you’ve typed in. “You saved yourself as Twinkie ❤? Damn, woman! I’m never gonna be able to eat those delectable golden treats without popping a stiffy now. I’m rising to half mast right now just looking at this.”

You reach over and toss him the forgotten package, rolling your eyes playfully as it smacks him in face. “Down, boy. Eat your treat like you originally planned.”

Connie tosses the snack away, and you shiver as a hungry look flits across his genial face. “Yeah, these are not gonna cut it anymore. I wanna stuff my face with a different Twinkie now.”

Your insides twist violently, molten heat trickling down your spine at the implication of his words.

“Ohmygosh,” you groan, already whipping your phone back out to text your parents you’re heading home. “Fuck the rest of this, we’re going to my place. Now.”

Connie pumps his fist in the air as he jumps to his feet. “Hell yes! Do I have a horseshoe up my ass today or what?” He makes a show of trying to look behind himself, as if his behind might actually be sporting one.

Your face feels like it will break in two from the force of your smile. “Just order us a damn Uber, you goof.”

Connie salutes and begins typing rapidly on his phone. You stand, adjusting yourself to contain the mess that’s currently trying to drip down your legs. “Damn. Should have grabbed napkins along with that booze. I’m leaking like a broken facet over here.”

Connie’s phone is already in his pocket, and your heart thumps happily at the warmth of his hand as it slides into your own.

“I’m all the cleanup you need, babe,” he winks, tugging you gently into his chest. You look up at him, all smiles and flushed cheeks, mischief dancing in his adoring gaze. You don't know if you've ever felt so alive, so free, so ready for wherever he takes you.

“After all," he lowers his mouth to brush teasingly against yours, "the cream is the best part of a Twinkie.”

#connie springer #connie springer x reader #connie springer x you #attack on titan fic #attack on titan imagine #shingeki no kyojin fic #shingeki no kyojin imagine #slice of life collab #my writing

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snowbellewells · 5 months

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Self Promo Sunday: "Darkness Before Dawn (Leave Hope's Light On)"

This week's Self Promo fic is another older chaptered CS story that I am bringing back “out of the vault” lol ;p. Though there will certainly be some angst this time around, there is also a happy ending - I promise. This one is a post-Christmas/New Year's themed one, and it takes place between the 4a and 4b timelines of the show (i.e. after the defeat of the Snow Queen, but before Gold returns with the Queens of Darkness) and diverges from there.

Summary: A lovely holiday season has come and gone, and Emma hates to see it end. However, much more pressing concerns quickly take precedence when she and Henry are in a wreck. Now the Savior is fighting for her life, and those who love her can only hope she'll find her way out of the darkness one more time...

*Also available on AO3 and ff.net, if you would prefer...

(I've posted all five parts in this Tumblr post for ease of reading)

by: @snowbellewells

i. prologue

Only three days after Christmas, and Emma Swan finds herself driving Henry back to Regina's where he will stay until New Year's Day. She can't help but feel that the holiday has passed her by in a flash, and she is loath to give up the sense of her first real Christmas with her family, and especially her son, around her. Though she is ridiculously grateful that she and Regina have worked out a schedule agreeable to both of them and Henry; now she is afraid that with Henry gone for several days, all the leftover bits of holiday magic, pure, innocent joy, and the light that might still be lingering, will go with him.

Shaking her head, Emma sighs as she glances across at her son in the passenger seat, lost to the newest app on his iPhone and luckily oblivious to her gloomy thoughts. There is no doubt in her mind that she is being more than a bit silly, but that doesn't make the feeling disappear. Realistically she knows that Regina truly needs Henry right now; he is the one bright spot in a horrible time of loss for the formerly Evil Queen. Emma doesn't want to begrudge the other woman what little joy she can find. Yes, Henry needs to spend the time with his adoptive mother, but Emma still hates to see him go, even for a few days. So much of Emma's life has been spent alone, with no one to care about her, much less be there to share Christmas traditions, and she feels a near-insatiable need to horde the precious moments now that she has them.

It has been more fun that she could have guessed taking Henry to her mom and dad's to help them trim the tree, watching F rosty the Snowman and How the Grinch Stole Christmas , helping Snow bake dozens and dozens of sugar cookies, both to decorate and eat themselves, and then passing the rest out to seemingly everyone in town. She wants to make the warm and jolly December evenings they've spent laughing cozily together last forever, so she will never lose the feeling of being curled up between Killian, whose arm stretches lazily along the back of the couch and over her, and her father, chuckling at Henry as he makes faces to entertain his baby uncle and exclaims over his presents. Emma knows they all felt similar emotions at times, like when her watery eyes met her mother's over the boys' heads and a lump rose in her throat. This year has brought her more of a holiday that she could have ever imagined having a part in as a cynical, unwanted foster child years ago. Killian's arms have tightened around her numerous times in the last few days, and she has known that he understands all too well from the life he had lived. Her father seems to find every possible moment to squeeze her hand in his, as if reminding her that they had always wanted her with them like this.

Without realizing it, Emma lets her mind wander and loses focus for the briefest of instants. It happens so quickly that cause or fault will never be clear. Emma only glances at Henry beside her for a moment; takes her glance off the road no longer that she would need to adjust the heat or the radio volume. Yet, somehow, they hit an unseen patch of black ice on the wintry road, going at full travel speed. The Bug skids, back end fishtailing out one way, and then almost up even with the front, putting the vehicle perpendicular to its original path on the pavement. Emma scrambles to right them, and Henry calls out a warning, but it happens too slowly and isn't enough. Their little yellow car shoots offcourse, seemingly flying from the road and directly into a pole at the shoulder.

Mother's instinct makes Emma's arm dart out in a desperate effort to shield her son, and she feels – with both hope and fear – some of her magical energy leaving her fingertips almost like second nature, in an attempt to protect him. It is the last thing she feels before impact, and then her world goes dark.

ii. the call

"Mom! Mom!" Henry snaps out of the daze he hovered in after the sudden stop and the settling of the car. He can see snowflakes falling thickly through the cracked windshield, and bitterly cold air is filtering in, though he doesn't remember it snowing before they skidded. If his mom had not told him the Snow Queen was dead, and actually hadn't been evil, he would blame the unseen ice and strange drop in temperature while they were vulnerable on her. It doesn't really matter now, but he is still trying to get his bearings and stop his head from spinning. For an odd second or two, it’s like he is in a vacuum; roaring in his ears and dizziness makes him off balance and sluggish, but when his mind clears and he sees his birth mother slumped over the steering wheel, a thin line of blood trickling down the side of her face, eyes closed, not moving, his concern bursts through the haze.

Henry realizes that she must have used her magic to cushion him somehow and didn't have time to do the same for herself. Yet, even as he registers what she has done, the air around him seems to waiver, flicker, and whatever shield she put in place weakens and fades, allowing him to reach beyond it and touch her carefully, worriedly, enough to see that she makes no response.

"Mom…can you hear me?" he tries again. When he still gets no movement or reaction, Henry begins scrabbling around in the seat, then on the floor, until he finds his phone where it has fallen in the confusion. Swiping the screen quickly, Henry calls his other mom, then his Gramps, in rapid succession – once he has gotten an ambulance on its way.

As far as the teen can tell, nothing seems to hurt and he is completely uninjured. The car is caved in clear to the windshield from where it smashed into the pole head-on, but his door isn't blocked. He can get out, but is determined not to leave his mom until help arrives. Whatever Emma did to shield him came at the expense of her own safety, and Henry swallows back both guilt and fear for her at that knowledge. He is momentarily glad to be alone when he feels tears welling in his eyes.

Reaching over the console to grasp his mom's fingers in his, Henry threads them together and forces himself to hope it will all be fine. Her skin feels cold to the touch, and his brow furrows in concern. "Come on, Mom. Hang in there," he murmurs to her fervently, leaning in as though he can assure that she will hear him. "Please."

For some reason, as the silence stretches on and Henry worries more the longer she remains still, he realizes who he has forgotten to call in his anxiety. Killian will have to be told and will be crazed with worry for his mom. How he didn't think to call his mom's boyfriend until now baffles him. Killian will be frantic to get to Emma, to help, to see that she is okay, and he deserves to be with her. Henry genuinely likes the reformed pirate. He has more than earned his place at Emma's side. Hating what he knows it will do to the Captain, Henry also can't put this call off. Dialing once more, the young man waits as he hears the phone ring two, then three, times before Killian Jones picks up, sounding half-confused, half-exasperated at the modern contraption in his hand.

His accent is clear through the wire as he asks, "Henry? What is it, lad? Are you alright?"

"Yes, Captain, I'm fine. Just listen to me, okay?" Henry swallows hard, not sure what to say, how to deliver what he knows will be an awful blow. Yet, one glance at his mom's still, expressionless face, and he knows he has no choice … Killian might even be able to reach her. Henry is no fool. Both sets of his grandparents are True Loves – and he sees something just as deep and strong, if not as clearly understood, between his mom and Killian.

"Aye, lad," the Captain's voice breaks back in to agree. "My apologies. I will simply listen then."

Henry draws in a deep breath. He hates having to put this into words, but then blurts it out in a pained rush, not trailing off until the end. "Mom and I had a wreck. The ambulance is on its way, and they'll help, but Mom hasn't woken up yet. She's hurt, and I thought you should know what was happening. …I'm sorry…"

Drawing in such a sharp breath it sounds like he has taken a physical blow, Killian is stunned by the news. His chest tightens at the mere thought of Emma and Henry in pain or danger, and his mind is already racing to where she is and how quickly he can get there, what he can do. Yet, in the next moment, he knows there is something else he must take care of first. He can tell immediately by the lad's tone that he is already feeling guilt at being alright when Emma is not, and also at having to be the bearer of such awful news. He speaks firmly, and with intent when he responds. "No, lad, none of that. You need not apologize. You did not cause this, and you should not feel sorry at being unharmed. I have no doubt that is how Emma wanted it. Understood?"

Henry nods reluctantly before realizing that Killian can't see him, then manages a begrudging, "Understood."

"Where are you?" Killian asks, already moving around his rented room at Granny's to throw on his coat and grab the grey knitted scarf that Emma had brought him just a few days ago with a gentle smile and concern that he would take a chill. He is already reaching for the door as he adds, "I'm on my way to you, just tell me the direction."

"Head to the hospital – that's where we'll be."

"I will see you there, lad. I'm starting off as we speak."

"Killian," Henry breaks in again, strangely sounding as if he wants to reassure his mom's boyfriend, even though he is the one who has been in the wreck and is sitting beside his unconscious mother, "I know you were there once. Remember, they patched you up, even though you'd been hit by a car. They kept my gramps alive when he would have died for sure in the Enchanted Forest. They kept me stable when I ate the poisoned apple. They'll help Emma too. They have to! She's going to be alright. Just…I'll see you there, okay?"

"Aye, of course, lad," Killian assures, hearing both the pleading note in the boy's voice and the need to have his hope confirmed. The pirate already feels himself growing more frantic every second, wondering just how bad it is, but he can still try to give her boy a bit of comfort before he gives into his own fear. Though he speaks calmly to Henry, the desperate thoughts are already swirling inside his head. 'What if she doesn't wake? ' His beautiful, blunt, brave sheriff-princess, and he might never speak to her again, nor see her lovely green eyes sparkle with mischief. Killian shakes his head roughly, forcing that line of thought away. 'Not again. Not this time. Swan is strong. She will come back to me.' Killian has to believe that he will not suffer the loss of someone else he loves; even his life cannot be so cruel. "I'll be there as fast as I possibly can," he finishes saying to Henry, hoping the boy will be somewhat appeased; it’s all he has to offer.

"Good. Come find Gramps and me when you do, alright? ... And Killian?" Henry's voice fades for a moment, then adds, "You be careful. Mom will need you when she wakes up."

~~~~~000~~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After hanging up the phone, Henry lets out a breath of relief. Things aren't really any better, but the part he had been dreading is done. He looks back over to Emma, covering her hand with his own still-growing one, trying not to dwell on the chill to her skin. "Killian's on his way. Neither one of us want to lose you, Mom. I know you've had to do it a lot, but keep fighting. Stay with us."

Soon he hears sirens blaring, and then his grandpa peals up behind them in the town's outdated patrol car and runs to the Bug, ambulance wheeling in right behind him. Next thing Henry knows, David is jerking open the door and crushing his grandson to his chest. "Henry! Are you alright?!" he asks, drawing in a sharp breath as he sees his injured daughter over Henry's head. The EMTs are already easing her out of the car and onto a backboard for the trip to the hospital, and all he can really do is clasp Henry to him more tightly and watch. He feels the boy shaking slightly, even as he tries so hard to be strong. As a father, he wants to ask so many questions about his daughter. 'Has she spoken at all?' 'Opened her eyes?' 'What made her lose control of the car?' But he holds back, comforting his daughter's child instead. There is nothing he can do to help beyond that anyway.

Easing Henry out and guiding him with a hand around his shoulders, David ushers his grandson into the cruiser, studiously ignoring the sniffles the teen is trying to hide. He rounds the front of the vehicle, sliding behind the wheel and immediately turning it around to follow the ambulance. Still, he brakes for a moment, making eye contact with Henry and holding it determinedly. "She’s going to be fine. Trust me," he vows, knowing he shouldn't make such a promise, but unable to believe anything else. His daughter has been through so much to find her happy ending; it cannot be taken from her now. He hears Snow's eternally optimistic voice in his head, telling them to keep hoping, and he will not do anything less.

Henry merely nods in acceptance of his words though, and silence settles over them again as they make their way to the hospital.

iii. keeping vigil

Killian Jones cannot turn off the fear that has overtaken his mind – the worries for her, and the feelings of helplessness, that there is nothing he can do for Emma. He spends the whole walk – more run really – to the hospital with his heart in his throat, feeling it trying to choke him, in almost as much agony as when the Crocodile had held the organ and squeezed it in torture. His heart might as well be ash without her.

Unwanted visions of Emma lying pale and cold, as Milah had in death so long ago on the deck of his ship, flit across his brain – vicious waking nightmares that he cannot seem to banish. It pains him that he is already thinking the worst, when he knows he should not. Just as he once told Emma himself, his Swan too is a survivor. She has been proving so her entire life, and certainly as long as he has known her. Still, Killian cannot quell the near-paralyzing fear; he has lost everyone he ever loved, and he will not survive the loss of Emma as well, nor does he wish to.

Upon reaching Storybrooke General, Killian barrels into the ER, searching for Henry and David anxiously, and finding them in hard, plastic chairs in the waiting room to the right. "Henry! Dave!" he calls out, rushing toward them even as he gets their attention. "Have you had any news? How is she? Can we see her?" He does not mean to deluge them with questions, or to seem frantic in front of her worried son and her father, but he must know.

"Easy, Hook," David cautions, reaching out to place a steadying hand on his shoulder, "take a breath. We'll tell you what we know, but it isn't much at this point. We're going to have to wait."

Killian gives a curt nod and does try to draw in a deep, centering breath. He dearly wants to yell at the Prince, to rail at him for his seeming composure and for telling him to wait on word. Emma cannot wait; he needs to reach her. Instead, he forces the words down, blowing out a tense breath, reminding himself that David loves Emma as well, and is trying to help. "Fine," he grits, making his voice as controlled as possible, though still aching for something to hold onto, practically trembling with the effort of holding his body still, to appear calm. "Just please tell me what you know."

David nods, motioning for Killian to take the empty seat between himself and Henry, after moving their coats off it. "Emma's car hit a patch of ice. There didn't seem to be any others on the route they were traveling; it was just a freak chance of nature as far as anyone can tell. It was cold and starting to snow, and it just happened. They were traveling at road speed, so it's really a miracle Henry isn't in worse shape too."

"No miracle," Henry mutters, looking at his shoes forlornly, bitterness in his tone as he interrupts. "She threw her hand up, used her magic on instinct somehow to protect me, and she let herself get hurt."

Realization dawns on the Prince's face, as if he completely understands something that had been puzzling him. He doesn't comment on his thoughts though, instead moves as if to get up and embrace Henry. Killian jumps in first, getting Henry's attention and making sure the teen is looking at him. "Henry, what did I tell you on the phone? You can't blame yourself. Emma loves you more than anyone else in this world. She would never want to see you hurt if she could prevent it. There is no shame in that. She is your mother and will feel that way whether you are 13 or 33. She would not want you burdened by this, that I know."

"Hook's right," David seconds, making sure that his grandson knows no one believes Henry could or should have done anything more than he has.

Henry doesn't speak to agree or argue, but he seems less angry at any rate, and Killian's worry finally urges him to ask David to continue with his news of Emma.

Sighing, David does as he requests. "Regardless, Emma sustained a serious blow to the head, most probably from the dashboard, on impact. She almost certainly has a concussion, and she hasn't shown any signs of regaining consciousness. They have her in a private room under observation, monitoring to make sure she doesn't develop any subdural hematoma that puts undue pressure on the brain. If that happens, they will have to go in to surgically relieve it…" The Prince's face is grim as he tries to explain what he has been told, and Killian does not like the troubled expression the royal's eyes take on.

"Let us hope it does not come to that, mate," he offers awkwardly, not sure how else to provide comfort.

They sit in silence for a time, until Regina arrives. She and Henry leave to walk elsewhere in the hospital for a bit. Killian is honestly glad that Queen is here; she loves Henry dearly, and has raised him. She knows as well as anyone could what to do for him and what to say to him in this situation.

He clears his throat once they are alone and asks, "Is anything else being done for her? Can we see her? Sit with her? Anything?"

David shakes his head, trying to dissuade Killian before he goes up against the doctors and the hospital itself. "Right now, they aren't letting anyone in. She needs to be in a quiet, non-stimulating environment. When the doctor spoke to me, they didn't even want her to have visitors. After that, Dr. Whale assured me he would see what they could do. He said that her pulse was slow and a bit thready, while her blood pressure was up, and that her pupils were somewhat unequal in size. Both are concerns if she doesn't wake soon, and could indicate her unconsciousness deepening."

Thankfully, David pauses to draw breath and let that much settle in. Killian honestly does not know how much more he can stand, picturing Emma alone and helpless in such a fragile state. He wishes to be at her side, even if merely to hold her hand. She might have no awareness of him at all, but if there is any part of her which senses that she is alone, he would rather believe that she could sense if he were near as well. Killian knows that Emma's father is about to finish giving him what information he has, and is steeling himself for it, when they are interrupted by Regina and Henry's return and the arrival a few moments later of a harried-looking Dr. Whale.

"Any news on Miss Swan?" Regina asks brusquely of the doctor, cutting across both Emma's love and her father. Her voice sounds sharp and matter of fact, but Killian senses more care under the surface than he imagines Regina intends to show. She may be here for Henry's benefit most, but over time the Captain has seen her come to hold a grudging respect for his tough, no-nonsense Swan. They are qualities the former mayor has as well, and appreciates in others.

Whale looks startled by this new person firing questions at him, but as the prince does not seem to object, he answers anyway. "Not much has changed since I spoke with you last. Ms. Swan has withstood a significant blow to the head and is dealing with a concussion as a result. Her unconsciousness is a serious issue and must be monitored, but is not uncommon with this sort of injury. As long as her pulse returns to normal and her other vital signs remain stable, we are cautiously optimistic that she will wake once her body has had time to recover. If she remains unconscious through the night, we will make sure she is equipped to receive adequate nutrition intravenously in the morning. She will also need to be watched for respiratory difficulty or inability to swallow. However, we will deal with those issues if they arise. In the meantime, I am prepared to allow one visitor at a time, as long as each visitor remains quiet and calm."

Emma's four gathered visitors assure him that they understand all he has said and will abide by his orders; then they are led to the room where Emma rests. Killian is more than willing to allow Swan's father and her boy to each take their turns before him; he is so relieved to see her at all. Besides, once he reaches her side again, he has no intention of leaving.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nearly two hours have passed when Killian Jones is finally allowed to slip into the silent room Emma occupies and be near her at last. It is nearing 9 o'clock in the evening, and he knows he could not have stood being kept from her much longer. David has gone home to update and reassure Snow, who had stayed with the baby, and all three of them will be back bright and early in the morning. Henry has left as well, with Regina only minutes ago, surprising Killian by wrapping his skinny arms around the pirate's waist in a tight, wordless grasp and furtively wiping a silent tear from his face as he pulled away. "Take care of her, Captain," he had murmured lowly, making Killian aware that the lad knew his intention not to leave her.

"Aye, lad," he had responded in a voice equally low. "Have no doubt of that."

Moving across the room dimly washed in the moon's glow through the blinds, he tentatively reaches Emma and looks down on her before sinking into the chair nearby. For a moment, words are lost to him as he wonders how to reach her. He studies her beautiful, pale features, unable to stop gazing on her as his hand comes up to lightly trace over her cheek.

Speech seems pointless in the stillness of the room and her unflinching slumber. He only wants Emma to know that she is not alone, that she is loved, that he would do anything to bring her back. Bending to place a kiss upon her brow, Killian only whispers, "Darling, if you can hear me…please come back to us, Love. I need you. Your boy needs you. I promise…I will be right here when you wake." He threads his fingers with hers, leaning over the bed rail to keep his face even with hers, to watch in hopes of seeing her eyes flutter open again.

And so he begins the vigil he will keep, no matter how long, until she returns to him.

iv. drifting

Unbeknownst to Emma Swan, New Year's Eve dawns clear and bright, a brittle chill in the air, but a piercing sunlit sky overhead as well. Her son, her family, and her devoted pirate captain have all been waiting, watching, hoping she will wake, wishing each time a new sun rises that her eyes will open to see it and return to them. With a little one at home, David and Snow take turns visiting the hospital in the morning and afternoon while the other stays home with the young prince. As they do everything, the two royals work it out seamlessly between them, an unbreakable team. They set a routine of arriving at 7:00 a.m. – coffee and doughnut in hand for Killian – and never fail to carry on hoping, letting not a single moment of weakness show or a second of doubt that any day now their daughter will be awake to return their morning greeting.

Killian has not left Emma's side since he was allowed in her room that first night. One determined night shift nurse had attempted to shoo him out at midnight, but the words had died on her lips as she entered to find him seated at the sheriff's bedside – silent as stone, fingers of his one good hand tangled with hers, hook resting on the covers where the metal gleamed sharply in the dim light. He had raised a dark brow in questioning challenge, but had not moved or made a sound. No direct threat had been uttered, but it was clear he was not going anywhere without a fight, and from then on they had allowed him to remain.

Regina brings Henry faithfully as well, timing it so that Emma and Killian are not alone long after whichever of her parents has made the afternoon visit is gone. In truth, Killian is grateful for the company. He can only sit so long talking to Emma with no response – no twinkle of her laughing eyes, no sassy comebacks for his best witty flirtations – without wanting to beg her to return, to collapse to his knees, to give into the tide of despair he feels hovering in the back of his consciousness as each day and then night goes by with no change in her.

An IV has been put in, to get fluids and nutrients to her, and though he knows it was necessary, Killian feels a sense of nausea climb up his throat at the thought of her being so helpless, how much she would hate not even being able to feed herself or take a drink of water. His Swan is stubborn to a fault, not willing to give up an inch, wanting to handle all that life throws at her with her own strength and her own two hands. If she were aware of what was going on around her, it would be driving her mad. What really sends him over the edge though is the confirmation that she truly is not present with him; she doesn't know what is happening around her and she can't do it for herself. He continually has to push down the fear that she will not ever again.

After the first two days, it is determined that there is no further swelling or dangerous intracranial pressure. Continued observation reveals Emma's pulse and blood pressure regulating back to normal and her pupils' return to near equal size. Each note is received gratefully by her loved ones, but Emma remains in her distant, suspended state. Dr. Whale tries to caution them all that the brain has its own way and time frame for healing. They need to stay positive, keep visiting and talking to her. He assures them that he has no indication she will not come out of her coma once her body is fully healed and ready, but he also cannot explain to them why it has not already occurred.

A feeding tube is mentioned on the night Emma has been in the hospital a week, and Killian is more relieved than words can say when her father protests rather strongly, asking them to give her a day or two more to wake up before taking that step. The process would not have driven Killian away; he would have been there at her side, squeezing her hand in his, trying to offer her comfort whether Emma was aware of it or not, but seeing plastic tubing forced down his love's throat while she is unaware and can't fight back or speak for herself on the matter – even if it is meant to help her – seems somehow cruel and barbaric to him. Killian honestly is not sure he has the resolve to stand by and allow it without falling apart, much less to be present and watch.

Gradually, with his extended constant presence, the former pirate has grown on Emma's two regular nurses. Though both the day and night nurses had been disapproving at first of this dark, forbidding man disregarding all their rules and haunting their halls, his obvious devotion, his desire to do anything he could to help, and his charming nature had won them over. The day nurse now greets him as she arrives each morning, giving him a maternal smile and encouraging his hope by asking if there has been any change in Emma over the night. The night nurse has more than once covered him with a blanket upon her arrival, finding him asleep in the chair right next to Emma's bed. She cannot help but admire a man who loves that deeply and holds on so tightly; she finds herself anxiously awaiting their little town's sheriff waking to see who she has in her corner.

As Emma's unconsciousness stretches beyond a week, and then two, the hospital staff watches more carefully than ever for respiratory distress. Due to her inability to swallow, they begin suctioning her mouth and trachea when necessary, wanting to prevent any chance of aspiration. After failing to get Killian to leave while the procedure is accomplished, they show him how Emma must first be turned to lie on her side, and he then gently holds her in place while they carry out their task. Emma's pirate remains undeterred by anything she needs from him, only wanting to aid in her comfort, to do anything that might help, might keep her safe until she returns to them. His hands are steadying on her shoulders; he can tell that even unawares the suctioning must cause discomfort from the crinkle that forms between her brows, which he lovingly smoothes with a tender touch. He aches to take the distress from her, and so he watches over her religiously, brushing her hair back from her clammy forehead, watching for even the tiniest hint of movement.

Once all visitors and staff have cleared out for the night and they are alone again, that is when Killian Jones can do nothing more than pull the blankets back over her, take her hand once more, kiss her palm, and whisper to her. "Come, Love, surely you've had more than enough of this. Open your eyes, Darling…please. I am not giving up on you. I know you can find your way back. You are too stubborn by half to let this beat you. This…cannot…be your end."

It is only then, as darkness falls in the middle of the night, the halls are quiet, and Killian is sure no one will see, that he lets his strength crumble. His weeping is silent and fleeting, but his shoulders shake, unable to throw off the fear that his princess has finally gone where he cannot follow.

~~~~~~000~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~~0000~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emma feels as though she is swimming through a hazy dream world, floating unaware and unconcerned by any of the worries, any of the cares that normally tie her down. She feels no pressure, no impending doom from some new villain, no worry over whether she is doing right by her son, spending enough time with her new baby brother and her parents, serving her newfound home as both sheriff and princess the way all expect of her. No sounds disturb the easy quiet surrounding her, wrapping her up like a warm, soft blanket. It almost feels as though she could close her eyes and sleep for hours, days even, and it wouldn't matter at all. There would be nothing to stop her.

As quickly as that thought comes though, her calm is somehow shaken by a tremor of fear. Sleep for days? No one there to notice or worry about her? No sounds, nothing to see, nothing to do? Something isn't right, and on the heels of that realization comes the awareness that she cannot seem to open her eyes to see where she is or what is happening. She cannot make her arms and legs move or respond to her gradually growing distress. Emma wants to open her mouth to cry out, but her lips don't part and no sound escapes. The cozy grey haze that had seemed so comforting mere moments ago has become a thickening fog strangling her and pulling her down into its depths.

A soothing croon breaks through the darkness surrounding her. Emma cannot immediately place the speaker, but she knows instinctively that this is a voice she loves, a voice she feels comforted by amidst the nothingness surrounding her. "Open your eyes, Darling…please…" the lilting voice pleads, and desperately, painstakingly, with every bit of determination and energy she came muster, Emma moves toward that sound – or at least she attempts to. She surfaces from the sea of swirling fog and finally opens her eyes.

v. welcome back, love

Joyous pandemonium is not an exaggeration for the scene in Emma's room just an hour after her waking. Despite Dr. Whale and the nurses' repeated cautions that they are still in a hospital, that the other patients should not be disturbed, and that Emma should not be overexcited after being unconscious for so long, Emma's family can't help their enthusiasm and relief. Henry is unable to cease motion; one moment he practically bounces on the balls of his feet at the foot of her bed, and the next he shuttles forward to hug her again, as tightly as he dares, and then backs away as if afraid he will break her.

For her own part, Emma never wants her son to let go, but she is still dazed and can barely speak around the lump in her throat, so she wordlessly lets him do as he will. She catches Regina's eye over his head more than once, and though the queen only gives her a silent nod of understanding, Emma senses that even her former adversary is relieved at her return. David keeps bringing her water, trying to smuggle snacks to her, and pestering her for anything else she might need which he can fetch. Snow simply stands at her shoulder, looking at her with a teary smile, and bouncing Emma's baby brother gently in her arms. It is more than a bit chaotic after the absolute peace and quiet Emma has been stuck in for so long…and she loves it.

It had been a different matter when she first opened her eyes an hour ago. Relief had flooded through her upon finding Killian there, fingers of his good hand wound up with hers, speaking to her through the quiet dark. Emma had been so glad she was not irrevocably lost in the grey vacuum of her subconscious that it had taken her a few stunned, blinking moments before registering her sailor's motionless shock, and how he could not cease staring at her with wide, disbelieving eyes over tear-streaked, unshaven cheeks - drinking her in as though she might vanish from his sight once more and trying several times to speak before finally stuttering out her name. "Em – Emma? You can hear me?"

She wanted to tease him, to break the tense emotional stakes and make him laugh the hearty, uninhibited guffaw she had only recently learned he possessed. Instinctively though – knowing what he must have gone through if he was sitting there looking as bedraggled as he did while she found herself in a hospital bed – Emma bit back any smart retort on the tip of her tongue and squeezed Killian's hand gently, merely nodding her head in response to his question. She realized just how dry and unused her throat felt anyway; speech seemed a bit more of a challenge than she had expected.

Killian had not seemed at all disappointed by her stillness. The smile that crept over his face at her barest of responses was near blinding and adorably accented by the laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. Leaning over her, he delicately cradled Emma's face in hand and hook, then kissed her forehead. It might have appeared awkward to an outside observer, but Emma found the gesture immensely comforting. Still gaining her bearings, she swallowed hard, looking up to him for answers.

Her captain seemed to understand, as he always did, what she was thinking. "You've been out for more than two weeks, Swan. And…I will admit…you had me worried." He paused, seeming to need a moment to rein in his own reaction, brushing his fingers through her hair as he did. When he continued, his voice was suspiciously husky. "I must go find your doctor. He will no doubt want to check you over now that you're awake. I shall call your boy and your parents too; they have missed you tremendously."

She nodded her agreement, sensing that Killian hesitated to leave her alone, and gave him an encouraging smile. Secretly, she was thinking how good it felt to wake up to someone looking on her with such love. It was something she had been missing her entire life, and with him, it had been there the whole time – she had only needed to finally see. Twice in the last month, she had nearly lost this; first to Gold's attempt to crush Killian's heart, and now to her accident. Suddenly, Emma was clear on just how much she would be missing without this man in her life, how much she wanted to rest in his adoring gaze every night and wake up to it each morning.

His small upturn of the mouth showed once again that Killian possessed the ability to read at least some small portion of what was on her mind. "I will be but a moment," he assured her as he stood, then leaned back in with a whisper in her ear and teasing glint of white teeth in a happy grin. "Welcome back, Love."

Now, in the midst of the rest of her loved ones, and the night nurse who Emma can immediately see has fallen right under the spell of her pirate's irresistible charm, hugs are flying non-stop, and everyone seems to chatter and laugh at once, both in trying to fill her in on all that she has missed, and back and forth with each other. Emma feels wrapped in a warm, noisy nest of chatter and touch and genuine belonging, and instead of feeling smothered or pressured to respond in the right way, she simply feels happy and grateful to be back.

Killian is still hovering at her elbow. He smiles and nods along with what is said, responds when he is spoken to, but she can tell he is still shaken, still anxiously watching her, making sure she is alright. It is as though he had sat beside her standing guard for so long, fearing she was about to be snatched away from him, that he cannot yet relax and believe the ordeal is over.

As their miniature party breaks up and the rest of the group files out with embraces and promises to return in the morning when she is at last released to go home, Emma finds herself wondering how to comfort him. It was not so long ago that she had been standing frozen in the clock tower, powerless to do anything but watch as the Dark One prepared to kill her pirate. The anguish on his face when their eyes had met in that terrible moment; the corresponding pressure gripping her own chest as his heart was squeezed, and the irrevocable knowledge that Killian was slipping away from her against her will, were still incredibly fresh. The memory haunted her in ways she did not know how to express or assuage. Emma was all too well acquainted with how Killian might be feeling now, but what she didn't know was if she could provide any comfort when she had been the reason for his pain.

"Hey," she whispers, holding out a hand to him, urging her pirate closer to where the bed was raised for her to mostly sit up and interact with her guests more easily, "come here, Captain." Her voice is still a bit hoarse and strained from disuse, but Killian hears it immediately and is at her side almost before she has finished speaking. He had still been at the door from seeing everyone off, but upon her request, he is with her in an instant.

"What is it, Love? Are you in pain? Do you need something?" His hand hovers over her anxiously, smoothing back her hair and brushing over her shoulder, not sure where to settle.

If she doesn't stop him, Emma is pretty sure he will dart away again, off to fetch her something she doesn't even want, when all she needs is him – to draw him close and let him hold her. She isn't sure which one of them needs the contact more, but it has become a desperate necessity. "No! Killian, wait…" she swallows and licks her lips, trying to make her voice sound less scratchy and to gather her nerve. It may be the lingering weakness in her system, leaving her feeling raw and vulnerable, but she finds herself needing to take the leap, to let Killian know he is as important to her as she is to him. "I'm fine. It's just…I just…I need you."

His gaze, as deep and blue as the ocean he loves, depthless and encompassing, warms her as he takes her in, almost as though he cannot believe her confession. "Of course…Emma. Anything you want, I will do. I promise, Darling."

Emma's throat nearly closes up at the glassiness of his eyes and the way his voice goes raspy with feeling. She knows by now that Killian Jones does not make a vow lightly, and her yearning surges even higher at his words. Biting her lip, she reaches to take his hand once more, tugs gently, and pats the space beside her on the mattress, before whispering, "Then come here…please…I need you to hold me. I…I th-thought you were gone…"

The hesitant look on her pirate's face is so worried and careful that it makes Emma want to giggle. If anyone who had known him as the fearsome Captain Hook could see him now, it would be hard to believe he was the same man. Yet, Emma can see the truth; his strength and daring have never faded, nor his dashing looks and unwavering air of command, but the drive and determination which had twisted into hatred and pursuit of revenge were once again fixed on heroism – and his commitment to her. "I don't want to unknowingly do you harm," he says anxiously, while refusing to meet her eyes.

"You won't," she breathes, pleading in her gaze when he finally meets it again, "unless you don't get in here." She gives him a playful wink as further reassurance and scoots over until she lies on her side, facing him with her back against the bedrail. She moves the IV so he won't pull it from her arm accidentally and then watches him and waits.

Heaving a sigh, Killian acquiesces, and though he wants to be sure not to hurt her, she knows he is craving the closeness as well. After shrugging out of his jacket and dropping it on the nearby chair and removing his shoes, he finally clambers gingerly up onto the bed next to her. Stretching full length on his side facing her, Killian leans in, nuzzling his nose gently over hers and kissing her lightly, still chaste and soft, but full of intense care. "Alright now, Swan?" he asks.

"Nearly," she responds a bit breathlessly. She reaches out to curl her fingers around the metal curve of his hook, taking this moment to make clear something he should already know. She is not repulsed by or fearful of his appendage – it is merely an extension of him. Pulling the blunted limb toward her body, Emma rests the arm on her hip, letting the hook wrap around her back. Then, she snuggles closer, fisting her hand in his shirt and burying her face in his warm chest.

They lie together like that for some time, comforted by the quiet closeness, heartbeats fitting to one another's rhythm. Finally, she pulls away just far enough to look him in the eye. Her words are fierce with passion when she speaks again. "I love you, Killian Jones. Don't you ever doubt that again."

He pulls her back, fervently ghosting his response with his lips at her temple. "You must know I feel the same, Emma. My love for you will never change – as long as either of us live."

The kiss that follows soothes both their fraught, churning hearts and finally brings the peace that both of them seek. Emma's hand finds the short hair at the nape of Killian's neck and begins to stroke through the dark strands. Killian's fear and sleepless vigil catch up to him in her embrace, and he soon drifts off to sleep. It isn't long before his warm, solid presence curled around her protectively does the same thing for Emma and she follows him into slumber.

Anyone else in Storybrooke General that night who peeks into Emma Swan's room cannot help but be touched by the sight of the lost princess- savior and her pirate prince finally at home…with each other. Right there for all to see is a vision of two healing souls finally granted a miracle.

Tagging a few who might enjoy (or have never seen this oldie!) : @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @drowned-dreamer @xarandomdreamx @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic @stahlop @motherkatereloyshipper @statustemporary @booksteaandtoomuchtv @kazoosandfannypacks @zaharadessert @lfh1226-linda @wefoundloveunderthelight @mie779 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @bdevereaux @justanother-unluckysoul @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @ilovemesomekillianjones @thislassishooked @grimmswan

#self promo sunday #cs canon divergent ff #wintry cs angst #darkness before dawn (leave hopes light on)#ouat s4 canon divergent ff #cs five part mc ff #ouat ff

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