#shoutout to emma for giving me this idea!!

[ahbogman]

heart to heart—

last day of edwin week :((( I wanted to at least get this one out, even though I’m still two days behind……..

this was for day four: heartbeat

@503week

[leelreallylikespersona]

Decaying Godhood (Persona AU)

I've been rambling and throwing ideas for this AU for a good bit now, here's a much more cohesive post about it!

Shoutout to @the-squeege and @artekai for discussing ideas with me, it was super helpful o(*°▽°*)o

Spoiler warning for P3, P4, P5/P5R, P5S, and P5T!

So let’s meet the main characters and their arcana!

Nyx (Tower)

Ryoji (Death)

Izanami (Empress)

Izanagi (Emperor)

Yaldabaoth (Devil)

Satanael (Justice)

Emma (High Priestess)

Salmael (Lovers)

Azathoth (Hermit)

Adam (Strength)

I’m omitting Pandora, Nyarlathotep, Clockwork God, and Enlil since I haven’t played the games they’re from… I don’t know enough about them to include them properly.

I’m scrapping the usual typings and giving (almost) everyone new typings… mostly because I have no idea who I’d apply fire, wind, etc to, none of these guys scream any particular element. I’m still working out the typings but what I know for sure so far are the “typeless” ones:

Adam: Strictly physical attacks

Azathoth: He is strictly a healer in this, and has no offensive attacks

EMMA: Navigator, can occasionally use almighty attacks

I’m leaning toward making their typings relating to humans, somehow.

As for the plot, at least a quick summary of what I’m thinking so far… all of humanity has come to a standstill. As in, time has stopped progressing for them. However, effects of leaving a living thing out to the elements are still occurring. In other words, humans are kind of just rotting away. It’s a very slow, magic mixed with organic decay kind of process that’s going on here. The appearance of this rot becomes more and more obvious as our group of unlikely heroes progress.

The gods, with the exceptions of Nyx, Thanatos, and Izanagi are dead, so how does this work? For this AU, none of the final bosses really die… their physical forms are abolished and their concepts are left to wander a nothingness, endlessly reflecting on what they’ve done. For Adam’s case, he stuck with Maruki until he died, then he took on a human form and lived among people for many years. Now would be a good time to mention that this takes place years after the events of P5S, so any human characters are long gone.

Let’s start from the beginning of the AU. It focuses on Nyx, Ryoji, and both P3 protagonists. These four are kind of just in a white void. Ryoji is able to move freely, he can see, he could leave too, but doesn’t want to leave Minato and Minako. They’re depicted as statue-ish figures, with a few features a deity would have. Their positions after the events of P3 caused them to go from humans to some sort of gods themselves. They are still mostly human though, this is important for the start of the plot.

Nyx’s sealing is visualized here as having been chained to these two. Until now, she couldn’t move, she was paralyzed along with having actual restraints. Therefore she couldn’t see, her eyes were forced shut. She couldn’t speak either. She could hear though, and the only thing she could do was listen to Ryoji speak to Minato and Minako. Some days, he’d talk to them as if they were still around. Other times, she could hear him mourn. Initially, she didn’t understand it at all. Sure, that’s her kid, and she cared about him somewhat, but she didn’t understand why he’d cry about them so much. There’d be times too, where Ryoji would talk to her, usually it would be him saying he wishes she could understand humans like he did, or sometimes he’d yell at her. Over the course of years and years, Nyx comes to understand Ryoji’s feelings… somewhat, anyway.

This brings me back to the chains she has. Now, all of the sudden, she can see and move again. And these chains, which were once really short, are now much longer, allowing Nyx to walk pretty far from them. This happening is meant to show Minato and Minako’s humanity being affected by the Rot, which is causing them to lose their grip on Nyx.

Upon hearing some movement, Ryoji is quick to become aggressive, but Nyx is still disoriented from suddenly being able to see and speak again, so she doesn’t return any hostility. You can imagine the arguing taking place as they try to figure out what’s happening. After a while, they realize they are able to see into the human realm. That’s when they notice the state of humanity.

Of course, they don’t notice the Rot yet. These two are the first to venture into the human realm to investigate what is going on. It’s mostly Ryoji that wants to figure things out, he takes Nyx with him to keep an eye on her.

This brings me to the motivations of each of the characters… Ryoji going out of his way to help humans makes sense. He did live as one, and made a lot of friends who he cared a lot for. For others, they hate humanity (cough Yaldabaoth), so why’re they here? Simply put, after humans rot away, the realm of gods is next. Also worth mentioning, everyone now has a humanoid form (if they didn’t have one already), so this is something of a second chance for these guys too.

I’ll go through each character:

Nyx: After spending years only listening to Ryoji talk to the twins and voice his affections for humanity, she gains a better understanding of them and obtains a sense of self (much like how Thanatos/Death became Ryoji during P3). She feels like she owes it to Ryoji to help him now.

Izanami and Izanagi: After the events of P4, these two really didn’t feel like doing anything else… Izanami was unable to do much anyway. They are later dragged out of the realm of nothingness they were hanging out in. Izanagi’s time with Yu makes him far more inclined to help out, Izanami is a little heartbroken that after the Investigation Team proved humanity’s worth, they fell into this state.

Satanael: He ditches the Phantom Thieves after Yaldabaoth is taken care of, and left to go cause minor bouts of chaos, nothing too drastic. He doesn’t outright try to end humanity, he just likes “poking fun”, so when everything comes to a standstill, he’s alarmed. Satanael is more neutral compared to everyone else, he does care about mankind, not to the extent that Ryoji and Azathoth do, though. He doesn’t hate them either, so he (probably) helps them for a selfless reason.

Yaldabaoth: For sure is only saving humanity so he also doesn’t rot away. Perhaps by the end, he’s changed a bit, but now that he’s given a physical form again, who knows what he’ll get up to.

EMMA: Upon being defeated, she spent her time watching over Sophia and Ichinose. She chooses to help humanity because of how well the PTs treated Sophia.

Salmael: Toshiro’s anxiousness rubbed off on him a bit… As the god of stagnation, this halt in humanity seems like it’s his doing, but it isn’t. He ventures out thinking that he somehow accidentally did it, and is horrified by the Rot..

Azathoth and Adam: These two genuinely care for humanity, their motivations are completely selfless. While Azathoth can suspend his emotions, Adam spent more time with Maruki, living as a human for years, so he’s much more emotional over the whole situation.

None of these guys are able to have Personas, but are able to “summon” their deity forms as an extension of themselves (so there’s a split-consciousness situation happening). Awakenings are still required for them to be able to do this, though, similar to Persona awakenings.

This ability requires one to first of all realize that their status and power as a god is due to humanity’s perception of them, but then they also must accept that. Only then they can “break free” of their restricted humanoid forms to use their more powerful forms. These forms look similar to their in-game designs, but there’ll be some differences, as I want to give them fun new(ish) designs…

Acquiring this ability is much easier for some than others… Ryoji and Adam as an example, are really quick to accept this once they understand the idea initially, but then a few others refuse to accept that humans are responsible for their power.

As for enemies, Shadows are present due to humans being unable to pass properly. For major bosses, the Rot left some human bodies as empty husks that became aggressive. These husks are attracted to the power the gods have.

Some side characters I also want to include… Jose and Sophia run the shop that provides weapons and other equipment! There’s also the Velvet Room that has specifics I’m trying to figure out… I might make Yu and Ren the attendants.

I think that’s all I have for now! I’d still like to figure out the order in which each god joins the team… It starts with Ryoji and Nyx, Salmael probably second since he’s already out investigating (he can be the navigator before Emma joins), then it’s either Adam since he’s also around, or Emma. This is still a wip! So if anyone has any comments or anything, feel free to send an ask! I'm already doing some doodles for this so hopefully I'll have some art for it soon (❁´◡`❁)

[goldiipond]

ray tpn is autistic and i'm gonna tell you why now

ray is one of the most heavily autistic-coded characters i can think of, and i've been wanting to write up a post going over as many of his autistic mannerisms as i can because there is a lot. this will probably be long because i am also autistic and i am especially autistic about ray, so please enjoy while i psychoanalyze this anime boy with way more scrutiny than anyone would consider healthy <3

body language

perhaps one of the strongest arguments for ray's autism can be made by looking at his body language. ray tries to keep a stoic, neutral expression and voice the majority of the time (though he's often quite. bad at that too) but he is always extremely expressive through his movements and gestures, the most noticeable of which being the use of his hands. pretty much every character uses hand gestures, but ray is ridiculously excessive. it'd take frankly way too long to compile every instance of this (or even half) throughout the manga, so here's a small collection of gestures from s1 of the anime to give an idea:

note that this is not even close to all of them and that he's exactly like this in the manga as well, though the animation and its use of snappy, exaggerated movements does help to make these much more noticeable.

moving away from his hands there's also just a lot of really expressive full-body language as well, such as this friendly chokehold:

this dramatic shrug:

and this even more dramatic flop:

just to name a few. basically, ray has a thing for grand unnecessary movements and no one is surprised.

poor emotional regulation and masking

as i mentioned before, ray tries really really hard to bottle up his emotions and keep a sort of stoic persona during his time at gracefield. he's also really really bad at doing this. not terrible, as he was able to keep up a believable enough front that none of the other kids saw anything odd about his behavior for 6 years, but that's also because he deals with so much more stress once the events of the escape arc actually get going. there is a stark difference between his quiet and detached demeanor while emma and norman are still in the dark about the house, and him nearly having a meltdown every time something strays from his meticulously crafted plans while they actually begin making their preparations to escape over the course of the arc.

just a few examples of this include him nearly having a breakdown when emma insists on taking everyone:

or one of my favorite anime exclusive moments where he strains his voice while yelling at isabella to the point he breaks into a coughing fit:

and it's not just big flashy meltdowns, but little bursts of anger as well. shoutout to this moment in particular where he launches this bucket with enough force to tear up a bit of the damn ground:

this emotional instability can be seen after the escape as well, the most glaring example being how he interacts with yuugo:

their dynamic in general really does a good job of showing ray’s mental state after the escape, because pre-goldy pond yuugo is An Asshole. and ray is so, so easy to piss off and quite frankly tired from bottling up his emotions for so long that every interaction with said asshole is a massive struggle to keep himself from physically attacking him.

as for the topic of masking, that’s what ray’s attempts to hide his emotions feel like to me. ray is constantly in danger of losing isabella’s trust, whether that be by revealing he may be a little more attached to the other kids than he lets on or by showing too much emotion that the other kids start to wonder what the hell’s going on. ray has to constantly hide and cover up his emotions with more palatable ones for others out of fear of looking out of place or being seriously hurt, and well if that doesn’t just describe autistic masking to a tee i don’t know what does.

maybe one of the things that gets me the most about that is that he's essentially been masking for about half of his life, and doing that for any extended period of time is extremely draining. ray has been drained to the point that he will have full meltdowns when put under any sort of stress and when you take into account the fact that he already has pretty severe anger issues as a result of his trauma, it's really no wonder he has such a short fuse.

lack of a filter when speaking

ray is a very blunt person. he speaks matter-of-factly and he wastes no time in getting straight to his point, sometimes with only a single sentence:

the way he talks is also pretty significant, as he generally has a more monotone way of speaking. he really only yells when he gets really worked up which like i said, happens a lot, but there’s almost no inbetween for him. pre-escape, he tries to show as little emotion in his voice as possible outside of his outbursts.

as for post-escape ray, he does seem to show much more emotion in the way he speaks. its a bit harder to judge, as nothing past the escape arc was ever adapted into the anime (s2 isnt real it cant hurt you) but his facial expressions become much more varied and it’s easy to say his vocal inflections likely do as well. however, what we can say for sure is that he remains just as blunt as ever:

no matter how comfortable he becomes with expressing himself, this aspect of his speech never seems to change.

while we’re on the topic of his speaking mannerisms please also direct your attention to these panels:

these need no explanation.

sensory issues. so many sensory issues

briefly moving back to the subject of ray’s hands, i couldn’t help but notice during my countless s1 rewatches that they are almost never just resting at his sides. if he's not using his hands for unnecessary gestures they are either shoved into his pockets, or he's crossing his arms. it's very likely his arms default to these positions because they offer a sort of sense of security, the former keeping his hands covered and the latter keeping him more closed off, almost like he's constantly hugging himself. basically, ray is a 'likes to feel covered and secure' autistic and if he was buried in weighted blankets he'd probably love it.

also tying into the ‘likes to feel covered’ aspect of ray’s autism is this scarf he acquires sometime during the volume 12 timeskip:

it’s a well known autistic thing to get attached to articles of clothing and wear them as much as possible, and boy does ray get attached to this scarf. i can count 2 post-timeskip scenes off the top of my head that have him not wearing this scarf, and the image on the right takes place a full 2 years after the left one in canon. he has no explicitly stated emotional attachment to this scarf and we don’t even know how he got it, just that he almost never takes it off. it could easily be seen as a comfort item, maybe he just likes the way the fabric feels or the extra coverage it offers him. there is post-canon content that depicts him without it, but the fact that he wore it almost nonstop for at least 2 years straight is still pretty significant.

another sensory thing i feel is worth mentioning is that ray seems to have a very specific tolerance threshold for physical contact. he seems fine initiating touch himself, and touches from emma and norman are generally alright, likely because they are the only people he has openly allowed himself to be close with his entire life. sudden touches from others however, are a different story. the one that immediately comes to mind is this interaction with don:

don in particular is someone ray becomes pretty close to, and i would say that besides the obvious growth with emma and norman, don is likely the person we see the most development with with in terms of their relationship. him having this reaction to a hug from someone he’s so close to seems indicative of some issues with unexpected contact.

and finally one of my absolute favorite things the anime added, which is ray experiencing what looks a lot like sensory overload:

this takes place right after the argument with isabella, which ended with him being knocked to the floor and locked up in a room by himself, so its needless to say that he’s pretty shaken up. he gets so overwhelmed that all he can do is yell and desperately reach for any sort of stimulation to keep him grounded, curling in on himself and aggressively ruffling up his hair. i genuinely cannot think of an allistic explanation for this scene.

and basically, he is just so autistic

all in all, theres some pretty damn solid evidence for ray being autistic and whether it was intentional or not, the sheer amount of autism-coding present in ray’s writing is almost impossible to ignore. i love some good projection but i don’t even need to do that much, hes just doing this all on his own. in conclusion:

[f1blrcreatorsfest]

fest credits & acknowledgements;

an author’s note by yours truly, ames ivettel <3

"oh, wow..." was pretty much all i could say as i scrolled through the f1blrcreatorsfest23 tag on the evening of august 1st. i was in a hotel room with some of my best friends in the world, all of us piled on a single bed, my laptop balanced precariously in the air as i passed around tumblr posts like a blunt, and already, i was floored by the initial response to the fest. little did i know that my mind would continue to be blown.

not to ruin the illusion, but going into the month, i was so stressed and scared that things wouldn’t happen—literally, the day the festival launched, we were still doing prep work. fio and i had committed to a morning of Getting Life Shit Done, and while she did more important stuff, i was on after effects finishing up the launch post and rushing through the caption (and bothering her 💀). i hit post and went to touch grass, already kind of having given up on things going smoothly… and i came back to the best chaos i’ve ever seen, along with the feeling that i was completely out of my depth.

honestly, if i’d run this behemoth of an event completely by myself, i’m sure it would have flopped early. not for lack of trying, mind, but simply because running a community festival is a team game at heart; you need input from others if you want to make something big for others!

so, with that said, i’d love to give credit where credit is due. i hope you’ll join me in giving a standing ovation to these stellar individuals!

first and foremost, a massive shoutout to barbi @brawn-gp for kickstarting the idea in the first place: a racing sideblog that prompts community challenges for motorsportblr. the very foundation this fest is laid on is because of you! thank you also for running the queue for most of the month and being so meticulous with the tagging system—our blog would not be here without you!

next, thank you to kyle @princemick and riel @azrphales for your work doing posters and being active members of the exec team! as i tried to chase people down to vote on big decisions, your quick input was a sigh of relief—a sign that others wanted this fest to happen just as badly. your promo work was literally invaluable in getting this to take off and stay strong. thank you both for your work post-launch (additional planning + sideblog modding)! a special thank you to kyle for being so active in the discord server and supporting our participants, also for participating so much in the fest itself <3

another big thank you to garnet @garnetaldebaran! your suggestions were incredibly insightful and thoughtful while trying to create the fest’s schedule and events. you really came through with the organization of our first sprint, which proved so helpful when organizing the second and third. and the creations you made for the fest on top of it all? absolutely gorgeous!

to nico @userscuderia and fio @maranello, thank you for lighting the inspirational fire we needed to get ideas flowing on what we could do in addition to weekly themes! the very concept of our sprint challenges, our silly f1-themed guidelines, and our motivation for most of july are thanks to you!

finally: nami @boyfrombarbados, emma @dannysricciardo, and ginevra @leclerqued, thanks for rolling with the changes to the video editing server / joining the pitwall on the fly! your comments were great and helped us define how we wanted to shape our fest identity.

i set out, initially, to try and change the culture around f1blr—to show noncreators that there is so much talent that exists in the fanbase, and that to keep us going, pretty much all we ask for are reblogs. maybe even a nice comment or two! it’s been made pretty clear, however, that the lack of interaction and interest in supporting creators stretches far, far beyond our reach.

that said, not all hope is lost! if this fest has done anything, i think it’s encouraged people to try new things artistically and really push the boundaries of what it means to make a #f1edit. at the end of the day, isn’t that what this is all about? being on the side of art, encouraging creation, fostering support? if we can continue to push ourselves—and really enjoy the act of creating—doesn’t our spirit count for anything? 

so i’ll sign off on this by saying one last thing: stay passionate about the beauty you give to the world. it matters, regardless of the notes, the likes, and the comments; it matters, and most of all, you matter.

thank you, everyone! a gold star for each of you ⭐️

-xo ames

[mymanyfandomramblings]

Glee-cap: Episode 4x14--I Do

I'm watching Glee for the first time, and writing recaps of my episode reactions (I'm also watching it a second time through with my sister, and I'll provide those recaps too). Here's my reaction recap for I Do

We start off strong--Finn and Rachel. Together! (Know that I am a Finchel shipper, before we go any farther)

Aaaaaand Rachel giving Finn terrible advice. Please stop.

Also, I do love Finn's 'not everything is about you'. I love Rachel, but she needed to hear that

Yesss Emma!! I love how confident she's gotten. Stressy, but a lot more confident

"I hope it's Britney again." Never change, Brittany, never change

Cory Monteith's facial expressions are perfect. Especially the 'internally screaming' one.

Emma knows exactly how to communicate with Artie. To a vaguely concerning degree.

Marley is so cute, especially with Jake. Her smile is so sweet, and I totally believe they are In Love

Jake is a sweetie too

Ryder is so level-headed, and I love him as well. Also yes, call out Puck dating a sophomore (as much as I like Puck, I don't like that subplot whatsoever)

Shoutout to the ridiculous outfit that looks like the lovechild of Kurt and Mike's fashion sense that Puck is wearing in the flashback

The bro-ship between Ryder and Jake is amazing. Ryder's acting is so bad. The tuxedos are everything

Jake and Marley's musical chemistry is *chef's kiss*

Not gonna lie, that bouquet was gorgeous

Yesss, Mercedes!! I love her!

And Sue is officially hilarious. "What, this old thing? It's an exact replica of your wedding dress."

and we're back with the random cracks about Finn's weight. The dude's insecure, and everyone needs to back off him

Aside from the aforementioned fat-shaming, every word out of Sue's mouth is gold. Not whatsoever helpful for poor Emma, but comedy gold

And Jayma Mays shows off hitherto unsuspected talents with Getting Married Today, as does Amber Riley. I haven't loved any of Emma's songs before this point but goshdarn it, Jayma knocks this out of the park.

Emma's freaking out, meanwhile Sue is just eating, and I love it.

Brad is the organist. Guy cannot catch a break.

Shout out to Becky, the world's most angry looking flower girl. Also shout-out to Kurt's reaction.

The doors open and...SUE. Gosh, I love her sometimes. And the organ crashing to a halt is hilarious.

Will and Sue's faces straight afterwards are delightful

Brittany mouthing that Sue 'looks so good' as she walks down the aisle at someone else's wedding. Never change, Brittany.

Jane Lynch hit comedy out of the ballpark in this episode. Everything Sue does here is hilarious

Finn now has himself in deep trouble

I am, at my heart, a Samcedes shipper, but I can't lie, he and Britts are pretty cute

Marley looks so pretty in that darkish pink.

I am vaguely frustrated that my hunch that Ryder has been having all of Jake's ideas all this time was correct, but I do still appreciate that they're bros, rather than, you know, fighting.

Jake and Ryder: Most Reasonable Dudes in the Glee-verse

Kurt's dance moves always make me laugh. I also love that Blaine looks so intense while he sings, and meanwhile Kurt's shimmying around and making Big facial expressions

Yes, Artie!!! For all his faults, Artie is really good at standing up for himself (no pun intended)

Sam and Brittany are so unhinged together /affectionate

Lots of people find Tina OOC in S4, but ever since The Power Of Madonna she's been given to occasional outbursts where she never gives her outburstee enough context to know what they've done

The comic timing on 'Did you vapo-rape my ex-boyfriend' is so perfect.

Did my eyes deceive me, or was Sam also lining up to catch the bouquet too?

Finn is my favourite character but occasionally he takes this particular tone with Rachel, and I Don't Like It

Whoa, Finn gets poetic and metaphorical. Guess being a teacher did make him smarter

Rachel missing the point is always hilarious.

I love Finn, and I love Finchel, but he's being just a tad presumptuous and condescending here, and I wish he'd express these same sentiments in a different way

Okay, what's with almost every couple heading upstairs. I kind of hoped that Marley would set some boundaries for Jake to respect (I mean, I'm not saying she has to, I'm saying that it would have been nice to see what would actually have happened if Ryder had been right, and how Jake would respond)

And that's how you know that I'm writing this as I watch, because I got what I wanted. Jake is so chill about it, even after getting his hopes up, and I'm glad he's not letting Marley apologise

Ah the glorious love between Brody and Rachel where they're constantly lying and being unfaithful. Love it /heavy sarcasm

Tina's dress is so cute

RYDER! You have been being so great the last few episodes now you ruin it!!

Artie's French accent is so cute

Their final song is really good, even if the dancing makes them all look completely insane

I also appreciate that their final-episode songs are starting to look a lot more low-budget and like real school performances than they used to

It's way too soon for Rachel to actually know if she's pregnant--unless there was supposed to be a timelapse in that song, but okay then.

[fullscoreshenanigans]

HI bestie happy pride !!!!!!! one quastion do you have any lgbt hcs for tpn that you're particularly fond of? whether they were hard hcs from the beginning or picked up from others,, give me yuor thoughts <3

ℍ𝔸ℙℙ𝕐 ℙℝ𝕀𝔻𝔼 𝔹𝔼𝕊𝕋𝕀𝔼!!! 🌈❤️🧡💛💚💙💜✨

My favorite hard headcanons that will come as a surprise to no one who has spent some time browsing this blog are endgame Norrayemma/REN/NER and Gildayshe, the former of which I'm very fortunate with when it comes to finding art and fic, and the latter not so much because I've never seen it anywhere besides this site. </3 (Thanks for prompting me to finally put together my past!Gildemma → endgame!Gildemma ramble I mentioned months ago. 🧡💚💛) Special shoutout to @frozentothetouch whose art converted me back in 2021 before I made this blog.

I don't have hard gender or sexuality headcanons for the trio for reasons @hanz-xd perfectly articulated here:

i think they'd have a hard time understanding the human world's perception of relationships and their hyper focus on labels. it's not like they really had those things at grace field, or at least, it wasn't important enough for them to care about. no one really called themselves straight, gay, bi, etc. so it's a little confusing for them in the real world. not the concept of these identities, just the need for labels in the first place. emma is kinda like "well i love every body?? why do i need to label that??" i think emma also struggles to understand the pressure of monogamy because again, her heart is so big and so full, she can't possibly imagine containing that love to one single person. especially when she thinks about ray and norman. she doesn't love one of them more than the other, she loves both of them so much. why would she want to force herself to choose when she could just love both of them? [...] but yeah, to summarize, the three of them would be together, but they'd never put labels on their identities, aside from calling each other their boyfriend/girlfriend. that's all it needs to be for them. the most they’ll do is confirm with a simple “yeah i guess” when people ask if they’re polyamorous. like yeah, they are by definition, but they don’t really care about labels. they just love each other in a way that feels right and authentic to them

The trio of my heart 🤍🧡🖤 though if I had to pick some, I'd default to the ones @officersnickers uses in this piece.

Likewise I don't have firm gender headcanons for Gildayshe, but I'm very big on lesbian Gilda, once again thanks to Rain and also to @just-like-playing-tag. I would also say I'm 95% committed to lesbian Ayshe, with the last 5% being my soft spot for Rayshe, though even then she's wlw + Ray doesn't necessarily have to be cis for it to work.

I'm ever so slightly less big on Yuucas but still big on it and a firm believer in the bunkerdads. 🖤❤️ Like many people in the fandom, I also champion gay Lucas and bi Yuugo, though ngl I'm half convinced Shirai included Dina as an afterthought at the suggestion of higher-ups so people wouldn't suspect either was a mlm or "funny" with the kids given how inconsequential Yuuna is to the story. Do love a bi skunk king though. 💖💜💙👑🦨✨

I also love the idea of bi Nat with him leaning toward guys thanks to @puff-poff. Don is pan with a preference toward girls (though you have shown me the light of trans gay Don. 🙏💙💖🤍) I love the thought of him firmly believing in the idea of "finding a cute girl to date" like he talks about in episode 1, only to one day be hit with the mental equivalent of a sack of bricks upon falling hard for a guy. Not in like an angsty way because this is years down the line and he's able to handle his insecurities better, plus he has the support of a large family filled with members of the community and I'd like to think after another world war the human world as a whole is more accepting of this, so there's no shame attached to it. It's more like having it happen and then going in the group chat with something akin to "remember when I said I was a ladies' kind of guy?"

No one in the Goldy Pond crew or Lambda gang claims cishet, but my favorites for each:

Trans lesbian Violet. I cannot pass up Shirai canonically making her favorite food pickles (noted in the mystic code book). It writes itself.

Love the thought of Violet taking Gilda under her wing during their search for the Seven Walls when she finds out she had a crush on Emma. (something Violet can relate to lol)

Trans girl Gillian. Feel like this one is less common than trans Violet, but regardless, she's pan and Nigel's bi.

Vincent is gay. M'guy dapper af.

(Chapter 137)

Cislo is a mlm, though Snickers has kind of converted me to him being aroace.

Barbara is a lesbian. While I'm definitely not opposed to Cherry Bomb, I've recently taken a liking to her and Sonya being a couple. (Sonyara? Is this a thing that I've missed or am I the only potential shipper? I like the idea of Sonya approaching things in a more calm and levelheaded fashion and how that sometimes conflicts with Barbara's more chaotic one, but instead of it resulting in ire, they take it as a playful challenge. Plus I like how Sonya's blues pop next to Barbara's pinks and reds.)

(Bad mesh of their color pics in the art world book but I work with what I have. </3)

This is already hella long but there was definitely something between Leuvis and Bayon Sr. Also Geelan is a mlm.

[thephantomcasebook]

Dyana returning for s2 and possibly being involved in jaehaery's death and thus ultimately making it "aegon's fault" is kinda funny when otherwise the blame would've mostly been put at aemond's feet (daemon's hit on the children aside. and let's be for real, it's definitely going to be daemon's hit, and rhaenyra will look like a hapless bafoon). I never "blamed" aemond for b&c reading f&b, but it very much read as a situation of one thing leads to another. aegon's "involvement" now muddies the waters, which can be interesting, but considering aegon's track record on the show it just seems kinda overkill at this point.

I honestly think that a lot of the ground work of vilifying Aegon and creating the fiction that Aemond is a bad person - despite the fact that no one has ever came at me with a reason that Aemond is a bad person in Season 1. It is all in service of trying to justify "Blood and Cheese" and exonerating Rhaenyra from any blame.

Cause, on the surface, in Fire & Blood, there is actually no justification for the murder of the children. Luke was sent into dangerous territory for a dangerous mission, armed - You are always armed when you're riding a dragon. And he got caught up in a personal grudge and duel of which he is he 100 percent responsible for starting and fostering over near a lifetime of resentment.

The murder of Jaehaerys is supposed to be a monstrous act condoned by monstrous people who are unquestionably the villains of the entire dance. And if you still don't believe that, than all you have to do is look at Viserys II basically putting a Taboo on his own parents names - barring his children and nieces and nephews from ever naming or recognizing Daemon and Rhaenyra as legitimate in any way. And why all of Daemon's children defied his legacy by marrying into his rivals families and continuing their lines.

GRRM has a ton of inconsistencies (Shoutout to @duxbelisarius Military Breakdown series) but he has always baked into the narrative that Rhaenyra was a monster and a villain - and is forever remembered that way by the ASoIaF Universal history, not because of sexist historians, but because of her own children who survived.

The main issue with the telling of this story is that it is being told in the 2020's, in which leftist political activism has become the orthodoxy and official opiate mainstream religion of Hollywood and London entertainment industries. Thus, because of inter-sectional feminism reaching cult like devotion in writers rooms and board rooms throughout mainstream entertainment, they cannot show a woman, a protagonist, becoming evil and acknowledging it as evil.

Don't get me wrong, they're still evil characters doing evil things, it's just that these corrupted and morally bankrupt people think that what they're writing is moral. That in their fucked up algebra "Tragedy" + "Justification" X "Girl Boss" = Morality.

Therefore, as long as they give every woman that has been wronged by Aegon and Aemond justification to avenge a tragedy by being proactive girl bosses, than anything that happens to Jaehaerys is morally right.

Thus, in our minds, what happens in "Blood & Cheese" is an unforgivable and purely evil act of savagery that everyone in Westeros for all time condemns as monstrous.

But to nut jobs like Sara Hess, Olivia Cooke, and Emma D'arcry (Or any "activist" in general) - who is only interested in their political and social agenda - Rhaenyra, Dyana, The White Worm, are villainized by sexist historians for being women of their age with power or agency and that they were justified in their evil acts because they are powerful women. In fact the idea that them being women, in general, is justification enough to do terrible things and see it as morally good, because, they were women.

It's the kind of sociopathic behavior rampant on this site with a bunch of weirdo window lickers cuing over "Let women do crime!" which is fine, but those same people also don't want those same women to face the consequences, to face condemnation, to face justice, for the evil they do.

So, to sum up, I disagree with your premise that Rhaenyra will be in the dark about "Blood & Cheese". What I think is that they're building up moral justifications through villainizing the male characters of Team Green of why Rhaenyra is justified in doing what she and Daemon plan to do.

[sotangledupinit]

run, run rogers - My CSSS 2021 Gift

hi there @ilovemesomekillianjones! here’s the fourth and final chapter of my @cssecretsanta2020​ gift to you from last year! thank you for being so understanding and patient (still. because i am the absolute worst!). 

also - this was uploaded to AO3 a few days ago, in case there’s any confusion!

run, run rogers (chapter 4 of 4)

SUMMARY: The last thing Emma Swan expected to be doing on Christmas Eve was last minute Christmas shopping. But Neal’s genius left her in the lurch, and she needs to fix things. And the Uber trip to get this all done? It’ll cost her.

RATING: T for Teen 

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 5,267 words

TAGS: Captain Swan, Holiday, Uber Driver Killian Jones

AO3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: The muse did not want to cooperate for a few long months, hence the downgraded rating and lack of smut. But! I did finally get to write out my idea for the gift. My giftee @ilovemesomekillianjones​ is so patient and kind about the long wait so a very big shoutout to her (and a day late happy birthday as well)! if you haven’t already read this on AO3, then i hope you enjoy!

***

“Oi! Whaaaz been da hold up?”

Will’s voice is loud as he slurs his holler, taking particular delight from popping the P in ‘up’. His grin is lazy as he hangs half of his body out of the window he’s rolled down in the backseat, arms dangling against the car door. Emma shares a look with Killian, their mouths quirking up at the corner from Will’s antics, and she feels a weight lifted off of her shoulders.

Not completely, no. But Killian’s words have made her feel like she’s not a total failure. It still sucks that she can’t give her kid something completely new to open, something that isn’t what his father just copied, but she can still salvage the holiday one way or another.

When Emma approaches the car, Killian a few steps behind her, she sees the kind of state Will’s gotten himself into. He had clearly sprawled himself out on the seats, laying on his stomach. With the upper half of his body still out the car window, his legs are stretched behind him, feet resting on the door on the other side. She huffs a laugh. As annoyed as she’s been by him half the night, it’s like having a big kid around and her heart yearns for Henry.

She loves her kid and she knows he deserves to have some time with his dad, but she still wishes he was home Christmas Eve, baking cookies with her and drinking their hot chocolate while watching Home Alone and Die Hard.

She senses Killian’s presence before she feels his arm coming around her side and opening the passenger door for her. “You get to be my first mate.”

“Lucky me.” The smile Emma shoots Killian is unlike any she’s given someone in quite a long time. It’s flirty, which is no surprise, but there’s a layer of giddiness to it too. She settles herself in the seat as Killian helps Will back inside the car, a number of grunts and phrases, some of which she’s never heard but no doubt are not for the faint of heart, come from behind her seat and she stifles her laughter until Killian’s in the driver’s seat beside her again.

Her seat suddenly jerks forward and the faint smell of alcohol from Will’s breath makes its way into her personal space. She turns slightly to see his body slumped forward against the back of her seat, his chin resting beside the headrest and his eyes half open.

“I thought you were going shopping?” he mumbles to her.

“I was trying to.”

“Bollocks. Ye’ve got no shopping bags with ya.”

“Scarlet,” Killian cuts in, voice struggling on its precarious balance of amusement and frustration.

“Well yer not doing a good job then, Killian. Where’s the lady’s gifts?”

“Actually…” Her eyebrows furrow together as Killian runs his tongue along his bottom lip in deep thought. Without a word to her or Will, he throws the car in drive and sets off in the opposite direction of the address she told him.

“What are you doing?” If it had been anyone else, anyone but Killian, she’d be frightened. She’d have pulled out her mace by now and worked a means into stopping the car. Instead, she sits patiently in her seat with her head turned in his direction and the seatbelt digging into her neck.

“Try something new, darling. It’s called trust.”

“I do trust you.”

The lack of hesitation takes them both by surprise. Her mouth drops open as she struggles to build off of her statement and Killian continually glances at her from the side. After a few moments, she shrugs shyly and gives him a small smile.

Will mumbles something along the lines of ‘pathetic’ and falls back into his seat, head lolling towards the window as he views the house lights passing them by.

Never before had she said something like that to another adult with such conviction and she didn’t know how to proceed. Emma doesn’t voice her feelings, that’s not the kind of person she is. Their conversation outside of the toy store already left her feeling raw and vulnerable and her words slipped out of her mouth without any filtering. It’s as close as she can come to laying her heart bare.

Her eyes trace Killian’s tongue as it pokes out his mouth to lick his lips.

He glances at her once more before straightening in his seat, flicking on one blinker as they stop at a red light. “I can read you pretty well, love, and I know you’re still disappointed about your lad not having anything new to open tomorrow.” He shifts in his seat again as the tips of his ears begin to turn pink. “I think I have an idea to remedy that.” She practically melts as he softens his tone and finally looks at her. “If you’ll allow me to help?”

The man sitting across from her continues to amaze her.

Emma doesn’t even need to think. She nods her head and says softly, “Yes.”

They drive in silence for a few minutes, Will ooo-ing and ahhh-ing at various Christmas displays before Emma leans forward.

She smirks at Killian as she flicks the music on, an older man singing about jingle bells wafting from the speakers, her mood vastly improved from earlier. It’s not until they pull onto one of the streets on the outskirts of the city, bordering the city center and the suburbs, that she notices Will perk up in the backseat.

“No way, mate. Don’t do this to me,” he whines, suddenly acting wide awake and sober despite the sway to his positioning. Killian chuckles and shakes his head.

“Yes way. You can’t hide forever.”

“I can bloody well try. I’m not going in.”

“Then you can freeze in the car.”

“It’s fucking cold out! And snowing!”

Killian grins wide into the rearview mirror, catching Will’s eye, and lifts an eyebrow as if daring the other man to fight him. “I guess you’re coming inside then. Aye?”

Will grumbles and crosses his arms as he glares out the window until Killian comes to a stop in front of a small section of shops. It’s a part of the city she hasn’t been before. An ice cream shop, wedding store, therapist’s office, pawn shop, and a comic-book store line one side of the street with a police department – not David’s, that much she knows – across the street with a diner beside it.

Emma waits to ask until everyone is out of the car, Will huffing and puffing the entire time. Nearly all of the shops are dark and closed up for the holiday except for the comic-book store which looks to be having a work party. “Where are we?”

“At the wolf’s den,” Will says angrily, shooting a glare at Killian who only laughs in glee.

“Yeah,” Emma starts, glancing wearily between the two of them. “I’m going to need more than that.”

“Come on, love,” Killian says. His prosthetic comes to the middle of her back and she suppresses her shiver from how good his heat feels so close to her. “Trust me, remember?”

“Yes –”

“You really shouldn’t,” Will cuts in, gaze now turned towards the holiday party. “He’s a scoundrel.”

“Bloody hell,” Killian calls from her side. She leans into his chest as he turns towards Will and she pretends not to notice the way his arm slides along her waist, bringing her closer as well. “Weren’t you just trying to wing-man me an hour ago?”

Will waves the statement away. “You don’t deserve my talents. The lass can do better anyway.”

“I beg your pardon –”

“Guys,” Emma cuts in. “My kid. A present. Before midnight, please.”

They grumble at each other before Killian ushers her to the door of the comic-book shop, opening it for her as Will shrinks into his coat, shoulders raised to his ears. He rips his beanie from his pocket and forces it over his head at such an alarming speed that it nearly makes her laugh.

“Captain!” a velvety voice calls out from across the shop. “Thought you were skipping out on us tonight for the cash flow.”

Emma’s not sure what to expect from the voice. Surely, such an attractive sound belongs to an equally attractive person, but nothing could have prepared her for the gorgeous brunette that walks out of the crowd gathered at the back of the store and right towards them.

It’s been a long time since jealousy held a vicelike grip on her throat but the feeling invades the bubble she’s had with Killian all night.

The woman’s legs are shaped by tight red skinny jeans and she wears a green crop top lined with white fur. A Santa hat sits askew on her head, the perfect match for her blood red lipstick. Dark hair rests in waves down her back and her nails are painted such a deep red it could be mistaken for black. The smile she shoots their way is one Emma could imagine a predator wearing. But who was her prey?

Emma chances a glance at Killian and relaxes instantly at the feel of his prosthetic on her back again. The smile he shoots the woman looks so similar to the patient, kind grin he’d given Henry on their rides. In that brief look, she feels all jealousy shrink away. Not that she had any claim to Killian to start with, but if there’s a possibility… “Aye, but I had much more important matters to attend to. Miss Swan is in need of your expertise, Ruby.”

“Miss Swan?”

Emma struggles to find her voice for a moment, feeling as if she’s been pulled in a million different directions. All she can do is fall back on her instinct to fight. “Don’t listen to him,” she insists. “It’s Emma.”

“Aye, Emma is in need of your expertise.” The amusement in Killian’s voice is enough to earn a narrow-eyed look from her over her shoulder, his grin widening in reaction. His teasing starts to bring her back to herself and she finds breathing slightly easier than it’d been a moment ago. With a roll of her eyes, she faces their newcomer again.

“With what exactly?” Ruby inquires.

“A gift for her boy.” Emma’s cheeks heat up as Ruby’s calculating gaze bounces between herself and Killian. “He’s creative. Writes and draws his own comics. Isn’t that right, Swan?”

She nods furiously in agreement, centering herself on talk of her kid. Talking about Henry is always easy for her. Not that she’s biased or anything but he’s the greatest kid around. She tells Ruby as much. “He’s incredible. A creative genius, honestly. I don’t know how he comes up with half the stuff he does.”

“Huh,” Ruby says, eyeing Emma up and down. What the hell? She doesn’t know why but the urge to defend herself – against what, she’s not even sure – crawls up her throat.

“Huh?” Emma echoes, glancing back at Killian who narrows his gaze at Ruby.

“You’re different,” she elaborates, probing even though her sentence already feels like a statement.

“Ruby…” Killian warns. “Don’t start. Get the pages, lass.”

Ruby merely rolls her eyes and scoffs. “I meant it as a good thing.” She steps towards Emma, looping her arm through Emma’s so fast that all she can do is look at Killian with a bewildered expression. “I like her.” The smile she sends Emma’s way once she faces forward again is friendly and warm and Emma feels the feeble defenses she’d built back up at the other woman’s appearance come down again.

They near the party for a moment, a group of only a handful of people surrounded by alcohol and baked goods with a stereo in the corner playing a Kelly Clarkson song and surrounded by more of the string lights, tinsel, and mistletoe that decorates the rest of the shop.

“Killian’s idea is perfect for your kid, if he’s as creative as you say.”

“Oh, he definitely is.”

“How old is he?” Ruby tosses her a look over her shoulder out of pure curiosity. There’s no judgement to be thrown down based on her answer and Emma doesn’t even feel the urge defend herself as she answers.

“He’s 12.” Ruby grins at this and much like Killian, doesn’t question it further and accepts it for what it is.

“Then this really is perfect and I have to admit, Killian’s a genius. It’s right this way,” Ruby says. Her hand gestures to an alcove in the back corner, opposite the party. The lighting is dimmer there and it’s not as loud. Or at least it isn’t until Ruby yells back to where Killian leans against a counter by the door. “Don’t let Scarlet run away! He still owes me $500! I will get my money and if he keeps running, it won’t be pretty!”

“Fucking hell.”

Emma huffs out a laugh. She has no doubt that Will was attempting to escape out the front door or blend in with the party to avoid paying it. Killian’s chuckle drifts over to their area, confirming her suspicions.

Her eyes scan the shelves before her as Ruby detaches herself. “Stay here,” she orders and Emma shrugs. It’s not like she has any other choice.

While she waits, she continues browsing. Henry’s gotten so many comics over the years from herself, David, and Mary Margaret that she can’t even keep track of what he does and doesn’t have. The last thing she’d want is to try to get him something new only for it to be what he already has. It’s that exact line of thinking that’s gotten her into this situation.

Once she bores of that, she makes a quick perusal of the store. Garland circles the shelves and moldings, string lights hanging from the ceiling throughout the store, and mistletoe is placed throughout. Ruby had navigated the two of them through it without needing to look, clearly an expert at avoiding the tradition when not desired, but the rest of the party on the other side of the store takes glee at the catching each other underneath it.

A particularly loud cheer diverts her attention over to them, watching as two of the people gripe and groan, making a big deal over it before engaging in a short kiss amidst the cajoling party. A flash of black captures her gaze.

Killian’s made his way over to the party. He stands on the edge of it and laughs as a man in a Santa dress suit with a red velour top hat places a Santa hat on his head to match the rest of the store’s occupants. Will slinks between the other party-goers, snatching snacks from the tables around the area and grabbing a plate of lasagna someone abandoned atop a display.

She can’t stop the smile that grows on her face as Will gets slapped in the back of the head by one of the women there, her fierce attitude clear in her reprimanding as Will shrugs his shoulders and offers excuses. Killian’s shit-eating grin at the scene is hard to miss, especially as Will sighs in defeat and pulls out his wallet, and as he takes a swig of his water bottle, Killian catches her eye.

Her breath hitches in her throat and she finds it hard to swallow. It’s like there’s an electric current dancing along a wire connecting the two of them, tingling her skin beneath the surface. Her eyes follow the sight of his tongue as it sneaks between his lips to catch the water residue. He clearly swallows and when her eyes drift up his face to meet his, she sees the black of his pupils swallowing the blue coloring.

“Got it!”

Emma jumps at the sound of Ruby’s voice and turns quickly.

“Need a minute?” Ruby teases, raising an eyebrow and tilting her head in Killian’s direction. Emma swallows and shakes her head.

“Sorry, what do you have?”

Ruby takes one of her hands from behind her back and offers a Santa hat out to her. Emma eyes it, popping an eyebrow in question. “Uh, I am not giving my son a Santa hat for Christmas.”

“No, the hat’s for you.”

“I am not wearing a Santa hat. I just want to get a gift for my kid. If you can’t help out then –”

Ruby rolls her eyes and thrusts the hat towards her. “Don’t be a grinch. Have a little Christmas spirit – it won’t kill you. Wear the hat, then you’ll get the gift.”

The two of them stand in a stare-down for a few moments until Ruby smirks and tilts her head, pride already making its way onto her features before Emma even concedes.

She knows that Ruby means business. Her confident swagger nearly fills the store and Ruby knows just how desperate she is. With a frustrated sigh, Emma hastily grabs the hat from Ruby’s hand and shoves it on her head, frowning. “There. Now the gift?”

“Thanks for playing along,” Ruby begins, her voice taking on the tone of a game show host announcing the grand prize. “For that, you will receive…”

Everything else Ruby is saying fades to the background as she reveals what she’d been hiding behind her back.

Five packages of blank comic panel pages, each package representing different, commonly used templates for comic-books. There’s nearly 200 pages total in her hand and Emma could practically cry at how perfect the gift is. Her son – her incredibly brilliant and creative son can actually create his own comic with ease.

“I didn’t even know anyone made these,” she whispers in amazement, her hands gently, hesitantly, shakily, taking the packages from Ruby.

“I’m not the one you should thank.” Ruby’s smile is pointed yet gentle as she gestures over the Killian. A quick look over her shoulder and Emma sees the way he’s half listening to the conversation at his side between Will and the woman from before. Instead, he keeps trailing his eyes back over to her and even from afar, she notices the vested interest etched in the way his eyebrows lift as he watches them.

Ruby’s voice breaks her gaze.

“How did you guys meet?”

“Uh,” Emma starts before she shakes her head. “He’s my Uber driver, actually.” Ruby remains unconvinced and unsatisfied.

“Really? Just your driver?” She points her deep red nails, gesturing between Emma and Killian as their eyes catch again. “That’s what you’re going with?”

The half-shrug that comes from her lifted shoulder is sheepish. Heat rises to her cheeks and Emma feels as if she’s been transported back to middle school talking about her crush at a sleepover. Not that she did any of that, but she imagines this must have been what it felt like.

“Well… he was just my Uber driver. Now I’m not so sure.”

Ruby offers her an encouraging smile and grabs a bag from behind the counter as they leave the area. When Emma twice tries to pay, Ruby brushes her off. “My little Christmas gift to you,” she says. There’s no pity or guilt in Ruby as she says the words and Emma struggles to say anything other than a cracked thanks.

People always wanted something in return. Nothing is done for free. If someone offers you something, it’s because they want you to owe them a favor or they’re using you to assuage their own guilt.

At least, that’s the take Emma had before the start of the night.

Then Killian gave up a night of potentially heavy cash flow and became her… friend. Now Ruby is joining the ranks too, helping her make Christmas special for her kid. If she hadn’t met Killian, she’s sure her pride would’ve been a lot harder to swallow to accept such a gesture.

When they make it to the party, Ruby rushes over, pulling the hand belonging to the woman who gave Will a dressing down, and steps under the mistletoe. “Merry Christmas, Mulan,” Ruby whispers. The party start a cheer, noisemakers and chants of ‘Kiss! Kiss!’ filling the store. Emma meets Killian’s eye between Ruby and her lover and they share a grin before the kiss blocks them from each other.

Ruby eventually detaches herself from the kiss and introduces Emma to her fiancée Mulan. Between the two of them, they convince her to stay an extra half hour so she can enjoy the party.

“You can always join our poker game tonight too,” Mulan offers. Her face gives nothing away but there’s something in her voice that tugs at Emma’s warning bells.

“Babe,” Ruby says with a sigh. “We’re trying to make a good impression on Killian’s… friend. We can’t do that if you’re robbing her blind.”

“She’ll count every penny too!” Will adds around a mouthful of cheesecake. “Stole $350 from me wallet already tonight.”

“You owed me that.”

Ruby cuts in, “Wait, you paid her but you still haven’t paid me?!”

“You’re practically married, it’s all the same now!”

“Actually –”

“So,” Mulan cuts in, drowning out Will and Ruby. She compromises, eyeing Emma with a calculating gaze. The woman reminds her of a general in the army, observing the enemy and coming up with at least three strategies to ensure their defeat. “I’ll give you a month. Expect an invite. Bring enough cash not to disappoint.”

Before Emma can accept or decline the invitation – though she has no clue what answer would’ve come out of her mouth – Killian appears at her side. “Bloody hell, Ruby. I leave you to warm up my car and you’re already letting your fiancée take Emma for all she’s worth?!”

There’s no malice in his voice, just a thinly veiled teasing tone, and Emma suppresses a grin at the eye rolls and groans from his reprimand that fill their small group. “I guess that’s my cue,” Emma says instead, backing up. “You coming, Will?”

Will shakes his head. “I’m going to give these lovely ladies the privilege of my presence on their couch tomorrow morning.” His wide grin breaks at the slap on the back of his head from Mulan, but neither her nor Ruby do anything to stop Will.

Wishes of merry Christmases fill the room and soon enough, Emma and Kilian find themselves heading towards the shop’s exit.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” The gentleness of his voice, the care in which he takes with her mission, lights a fire in her chest.

Her smile is wide even if her voice is quiet and soft. “Thank you. Seriously. It’s going to blow his mind.”

Killian’s response is cut off by loud cheers and chants of ‘Kiss! Kiss!’ They both turn a curious glance over at the crowd, ready to see who the latest couple caught by the random sprig of mistletoe is, only to find the crowd already staring back at them. Her head slowly tilts back and her mouth drops open, dumbfounded.

It feels fated, almost, the way that she’s found herself under the mistletoe with the one man who’s been able to turn her world inside-out in just a night. The universe is pushing them together and for once in her life, she agrees with it.

“Please,” Killian scoffs, addressing the group. It becomes clear to her quickly that he’s trying to give her an out or a reason to jump. His statement offers her the choice and that’s what does it. Well, that and his next sentence leave no other option for her competitive side. “She couldn’t handle it.”

Then he turns to her with that wide, victorious smirk and she wishes to wipe it right off his face, the smug bastard. No matter the choice she makes, he still wins. So she does the only logical thing to do in the situation.

She lays the bag with the comic pages on the display stand behind her. Her eyes remain locked on Killian’s the entire time and she can tell that he’s itching to swipe his thumb across his lip.

Then her resolve crumbles to nothing and she grasps the lapels of his leather jacket and tugs him forward.

Their lips meet in a slow, hesitant kiss despite the passionate start to their embrace. The moment Emma sighs, relaxing slightly as her mouth remains pressed against Killian’s, Killian takes advantage. He moves with confidence and familiarity. The taste of his mouth is new but the way his fingers tangle in her hair feels like his hand is always supposed to cradle her head there.

It’s exhilarating and intoxicating all at once. The sounds of the party fade to nothing and the only thing she can hear other than her racing pulse in her ear is the way Killian sighs and groans as they kiss. It’s delicious and tempting and she wants it to stay imprinted on the forefront of her mind.

The spell is cracked, not broken, when they pull apart.

Emma’s left in a daze, not registering a single moment of their final goodbyes before she’s buckled back up in Killian’s car and waiting for him to pull away from the curb.

Despite their bubble splintering at the store, a crackle of electricity, a simmering heat, still rises beneath the surface. It’s so palpable she can almost taste it. She can’t let him leave her yet. Not without another taste. Especially when he looks so unfairly good in the Santa hat bestowed on him at the store.

Killian starts their route to her place and Emma can’t bear to say goodbye to him when they pull up. Her mind flitters to the to-do list she wrote that morning and all the things she needed or should be doing for the holiday. The few remaining gifts she had to wrap, the food she had to prepare for tomorrow, and the cookies left unmade. All of the ingredients in her cabinets are new and purchased for a single holiday. She’ll never get through all of it by tomorrow.

Swallowing hard, Emma turns in her seat and looks at Killian. “What’re your plans for the rest of the holiday?”

He licks his lips before he answers, his mouth as dry as hers suddenly feels. “Just heading home to watch a few films on the telly.”

“How do you feel about making sugar cookies?” It only takes a moment for the question in his gaze to disappear, giving way to a bright grin. Her heart flutters at the sight and instead of fretting, she lets out a deep breath and relaxes her shoulders.

The house is warm when they enter. Henry’s new gift is placed aside to be wrapped once the cookies are in the oven. Their fingers linger longer than necessary as they help each other tie their aprons, a twinkle in Killian’s eyes as he raises an eyebrow when Emma’s hand slides a little too low once she’s finished.

“Fair game,” is what he whispers to her as he trails his hand up her side before tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He leans down to place a soft kiss on her lips only for them to lose themselves in the action. Their Santa hats fall to the ground, not that either of them notice. The slight flour that got on Emma’s hand from pulling down ingredients before now runs a white streak through one side of Killian’s hair and he returns the favor once they actually start cooking.

She gets mesmerized by the way he uses his stump – brace off and arm washed clean – to knead the dough better than she’s ever been able to. It takes a near monumental effort to concentrate on the cookies and not what else he might be capable of.

That only lasts until the cookies are in the oven and the timer is set, Henry’s gift laying unwrapped where she left it as Killian proves just what he can do.

They trade lazy kisses once she finally gets around to wrapping Henry’s new gift. Neither of them attempt to repress the smiles that bloom on their faces and it’s the most at peace Emma has felt in possibly her entire life. The only thing that’d make the moment even better, she thinks to herself, would be if her kid were with them.

Perhaps it’s coincidence or luck. Or maybe Christmas magic, as hard as it is to believe, actually does exist. Because it’s not a moment later when, at 11:43pm Christmas Eve night, her phone rings.

“Hey, Mom?” Henry whispers once she picks up.

“Henry?” The hairs on the back of her neck raise in alert and she sees Killian’s posture straighten from beside her on the couch. He makes a quick move to pause Miracle on 34th Street.

“I’m okay,” her kid starts but Emma only feels a small bit of tension leave her shoulders. “I just… I miss you.”

Her heart lurches at his words. “I miss you too,” she whispers back and wills her eyes not to tear. It’s been a long time since they’ve been separated like this but time doesn’t make it easier. “How was your night, kid?”

Henry huff’s out a laugh. “Thanks for the gifts, I know they were your idea. Also, I’m pretty sure half of this stuff is actually his.”

She joins in his laughter with a quick snort of her own. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Yeah…” He pauses and Emma leans back into the couch. Killian raises an eyebrow in her direction as he wraps an arm around her and she merely shrugs. She guesses Henry just wanted to talk. “It doesn’t really feel like Christmas here. Not without you. Can you pick me up? I want to come home.”

“Oh Henry,” Emma whispers again. She makes quick work of the tear that manages to escape and nods her head before she realizes that he can’t see her. “Of course. It’ll take me ten minutes to get there. Start packing up and wake your dad to let him know, okay?”

“Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

“I love you too.”

The moment after they hang up, Emma turns towards Killian and pulls him into a tight embrace, allowing only a few more tears free – the last thing she needs is to let Henry know how emotional their conversation got her.

“You’re right,” she mumbles into Killian’s neck. His hand and stump hold her closer and she feels every worry leave her body with a few strokes.

Killian was right. For as much as she focuses on the material things of the holiday, Henry doesn’t care about the gifts. She’s given him a home, a place of comfort and memories, and that’s what he wants this year. It’s nothing that Neal can provide him and Emma knows that just turning on their Christmas tree and watching Home Alone will be enough.

She glances at the gifts stuffed under the tree in their living room, especially the special new addition, and grins to herself.

The presents don’t hurt either.

Killian helps her to stand as she explains the situation. She can see the offer of a ride sitting on the tip of his tongue but his desire to not overstep holding it back. For most of the night, he’s been making the effort and opening up first. So this time, she resolves, it’s up to her.

With her hand out as an offering, she asks, “You willing to give us a ride?”

He grins wide, leaning down to give her a kiss. “Ride accepted.”

[sarcophagid]

Give me your thoughts on every tokrev female character (you can skip yasuda if you want....lol)

yeah ok 👍 

u sent this ask like a month ago but smth i saw recently was the theory that to “save mikey” takemichi had to “let go of hina”, making the series finale include hinatas death. which... i get it hinatas not a particularly popular character (tbh none of the girls are ✌️😃) but the idea that she has to compete with mikey over who’s “worth saving” is just stupid. regardless, idk what 2 think abt hinata. it’s probably just wonky writing but at times hinata was almost a paragon of forgiveness kindness etc that it was funny how she had people killing and dying for her. and she heard kisaki was the guy doing all this awful shit and was like “oh yeah tettas just silly like that 😝” GIRL?? 

as much as emma being sunshiny and content w/ everything is nice it would have been interesting to see her perspective on being in between the toman-tenjiku conflict idk. does she shoulder worries about her family that she doesn’t let on? plus sort of having to ‘grow up fast’ being neglected for much of her childhood (why she noted being ‘lonely’ in that one chapter), a lot of ideas that just went unexplored -_-. 

takeomi was curbing senju’s potential but so was wakui bro. she had a whole arc and backstory just to be hit in the head by sanzu and forgotten about i’m still mad about this idk what i expected and i know nothings gonna be done about it now but senju was such a solid character... the balance/inbalance between being seen as an ‘invincible’ leader of brahman vs. just also being a kid, and how in both roles her obstacle was the dark impulse (brahman is like the reincarnation of og black dragons to stop mikey’s bastardization of shinichiro’s vision of ‘age of delinquents’, and how senju blamed herself for sanzu’s mutilation by the hands of mikey) she was a lot more involved with mikeys dark impulse thing than a lot of people let on. im so tired of mikey conversations though so honestly ignore that last part 

yuzuha is one of my favorite tr characters she never appears but thats ok i’ll just make shit up and live in delusion. sm stuff abt yuzuha is just so crazy! smth smth yuzuha being so similar yet different from taiju about using violence, “i hate it so much i want it to die but i love my family” & “why would god make me kill my siblings which i love so much?”, both of them emulating their parents but failing etc... but also the yuzuha trivia is good fun. she does archery and girls love her swag. she also hates “good looking guys”. i think about that one a lot. just like me fr (wildly different reasons). 

ill add yasuda out of spite just bcz u said i had the option not to. she may have had like 4 panels total but her ride or die attitude lives on forever in my heart 😤😤 shoutout yasuda love u y-dog

[kazoosandfannypacks]

⭐ director's commentary for a fic of your choice? 🥰

Open to Interpretation: Director's Cut

Emma Swan is appalled at works by modern artist Killian Jones- until a handsome stranger convinces her otherwise- and after introducing himself as the artist in question, he invites her out on a date. As their relationship develops, they find that they might not be as different from each other as originally thought.

This fic began as a oneshot from a list of Meet-Uglys (aka the opposite of a Meet-Cute,) but eventually I realized "oh. I could add onto this fic." So I did.

My tumblr posts for this fic also feature pictures of the paintings featured in this fic. I painted them myself, and still keep them in a box on my nightstand in my room 😊 This fic also gave me a chance to give a shoutout to one of my favorite poems ever, Masks by Shel Silverstien!

In chapter 5, I had the distinct pleasure of including not only my favorite OUaT rarepair, August and Belle, but also a reference to August writing a historical fiction series about fairytale characters in the American Revolution, which is a running bit in my fics and also shows up in That's Just The Way We Roll, Road Less Traveled, and Window Seat.

Looking back, I have no idea why I had the Black Fairy as Killian's stepmother in chapter 10, but I feel like it was a matter of asking the CS discord server for advice, as I was unable to think of any character I despised enough to set up with Brennan Jones.

Chapter 13 was one of my favorites to write, because I included as many cameos from other OUaT characters as possible, including the other fairies as Killian's step-aunts, Captain Nemo as his uncle, and the beloved visit from Cousin Rogers:

 Perhaps the most memorable person Emma met was Killian's cousin, Rogers. Killian had told Emma in advance that people always said they looked alike, though Rogers was a few older and neither of the two could see the resemblance. However, when Emma met him, she marveled at the powers that be, and how they'd been gracious enough to grant such perfect looks to two fortunate people. Rogers did look a little bit older than Killian, though he attributed the gray streaks in his hair to the stress of being a single parent, but aside from that, they looked so similar it was almost uncanny. Emma was secretly a little glad when he left early to take his daughter to dance class, because his mere presence was, admittedly, a little confusing. Even afterward, Emma almost felt it easier to pretend he was just a weird dream that never happened, as it made things a lot less confusing for herself and everyone involved.

Chapter 15 was fun, because I included my life hack for how to make mug cakes from a boxed cake mix, and I love sharing recipes. Hmmm.... maybe this entire fic was one of those recipe blogs that tells you this humongous story before you get to the recipe that you came to the blog for in the first place 🤔

I think that about sums it up! Thanks for reading!

[introvertedexhuastedpigeon]

i cant stop thinking about a percy jackson inspired swan queen au where henry is the demigod child of emma (mortal) and regina (goddess). i just think demigod status, at least in pjo, suits henry incredibly well, like the whole "demigods process reality differently" thing and never feeling like he belonged or like he was crazy (im well aware regina is the reason for that in the series [shoutout to season one], but i said AU for a reason! so just go with it and hear me out okay) like think of it. emma and henry's relationship in new york gives the same vibe as sally and percy's relationship, plus the whole mother and son in new york duo... it just works. oh, and season one henry (rightfully) hating regina can be turned into anger at her for abandoning him and his mother once he learns the truth AND THERE'S SO MUCH ROOM FOR ANGST AND EMOTION AND OH MY GOD THIS WOULD BE SOOOO GOOD.

anyway i really like this idea and desperately want someone to write it. please.

ps. what would regina be the goddess of?

pp. who would take the role of gabe in this story?

[caught-in-the-filter]

Sharing the Joy - Chapter 2

Summary: When Emma attempts to distract Captain Hook in the past, Killian doesn’t make it off his ship in time to slip away unnoticed.

Picking up exactly where Chapter 1 left off, Hook and Killian show Emma a very good time. The rating has now been raised to very E.

A/N: This has been a long time coming. I couldn't let go of the idea ever since I wrote Chapter 1 and posted it back in December, literally creating the Doc for Chapter 2 the day I posted the first one lol. I have a bunch of wips but not a lot of time or energy lately, but I finally finished this one and can share it with you at last.

Huge shoutout and thank you to @veryverynotgoodwrites for being a wonderful friend and beta, and for helping this flow a lot better and keeping my paragraphs in order, and another to her and everyone else who has been super supportive throughout the long process of writing this. ❤️❤️❤️

Rated: E; Words: 5832 (6412 total); AO3; my Kinkmas AO3 series; Chapter 1 on tumblr.

——

Hook released his hold on Emma’s hair and lowered his hand to her neck. He tugged at the clasp that held her cloak in place until it loosened, deftly caught the heavy material before it could fall to the floor, and tossed it out of their way.

“Are you going to join us, or are you just going to stand there and watch?” Hook jeered at Killian before surprising Emma with a forward shove.

Killian caught her in his arms, an apologetic look on his face for what he knew his past self was capable of and for how he’d already begun to treat her. Emma’s cheeks flushed, and she averted her eyes. Killian was surprised not only at her shyness, but at the fact that she hadn’t seemed bothered by Hook’s behavior at all. She shrugged, her hand on his bicep, thumb rubbing soothing, reassuring lines as if to say that this was more than okay.

“You want to see what’s underneath as much as I do, don’t you?” Hook goaded, closing the space he’d created between Emma and himself, pinning her between Killian’s chest and his own. Tucking the curve of his hook beneath her chin, he tipped back her head, making her hold Killian’s still hesitant gaze. “Have I lost my touch in the future? Am I no longer a pirate?” Hook asked snidely, gliding his hand up Emma’s side to cup her breast through her bodice. “She’s giving herself willingly to us, mate. Go on and take her.”

Killian brought his hand to the loop of the bow at the top of her bodice, gently toying with the lace and pulling it taut before he paused, never looking away from her. He cocks his head to the side, a silent request for permission in his stalling. Emma nodded, and Killian untied the knot, taking his time as his fingers and hook skillfully worked the laces out of their loops down the whole front until the material opened for him. As Killian slowly slipped it off Emma’s shoulders and down her arms, Hook groaned impatiently.

“Savor it another time,” he snapped at Killian, making quick work of divesting Emma of the rest of her clothing. “I seem to recall you’re both on a bit of a tight schedule, and if this is the first and last time I’ll get to enjoy this lovely lass until however long you’ve had to wait for me to make your move, I want as much of her as I can get right now.” He tapped the backs of her knees, getting her to lift each leg so he could kick away her discarded dress.

“That’s better, isn’t it, darling?” His voice rolled deep in his chest as he addressed Emma, sultry and smooth and no less dangerous than she knew he was. His calloused palm returned to her breast, kneading her soft flesh with no more barrier between them. “Kiss him,” Hook instructed, and this time it was Emma’s eyes which begged for permission that Killian readily gave her.

Emma gripped Killian’s lapels as she had in Neverland and rose on her toes as she crashed her lips into his, pulling him closer as one hand slid up to grasp the hair at the nape of his neck. Suddenly she jumped and pressed her body flush against Killian as Hook trailed his lips down her spine, sinking to his knees behind her. He dragged his teeth over the curve of her ass and nipped at her flesh as he slipped his hook between her legs, making her shiver as he ran the curved metal along her folds.

“Naughty lass. You must already be soaking wet for us,” Hook speculated as he decided to tease her with his hand instead. His fingers were met with the proof of his assumption as they slid easily against her sodden skin. Hook asked Killian, “Would you like to taste her first, or shall I?”

Killian pondered for a moment, surprised that his past self would give him a choice rather than take Emma’s sinful treasure for himself. At first he figured it would mean more to himself as the version of him who fell in love with her than to the pirate who might not care if she returned for another night, but then he had another thought.

“If you try her first, would that mean I’d remember it?” He asked, his voice low and feral as he began to give into his lust for her, sounding more like his counterpart as they discussed her as if she weren’t standing before them. But gods, it turned Emma on all the more.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Hook grinned as Killian hoisted Emma onto the desk, laying her back flat against it and spreading her legs over the sides.

“He’s going to give you his mouth,” Killian said as he circled her and stood by her head, “and I promise you’re going to love it. I want the memory of you on my tongue to make it that much more satisfying for us both when I get to give you mine. Alright?”

Emma nodded and watched as Hook knelt at the end of the desk opposite Killian. As Hook kissed a path up her inner thigh, Emma reached up for Killian, finding comfort as she wrapped her fingers around the curve of his hook. She glanced up and smiled as he gently grasped her other hand in his.

“We’ll take good care of you, lass,” Hook growled, sounding more like a taunting threat than a reassurance, as he wrapped his arms beneath her thighs to hold her in place. “Just stay perfectly still for me.”

“Fuck,” Emma gasped as Hook flattened his tongue against her and dipped the tip of it inside her core before flicking at her clit instead. Her grip on Killian’s hand tightened as Hook licked and sucked and muttered words like delicious and fucking perfect into her flesh. When Hook found a particularly sensitive spot that made her moan, Emma canted her hips in an attempt to direct his focus there, but he simply laughed and tightened his hold on her legs.

“Ah ah, I know, darling,” Hook cooed, kissing everywhere except the spot where she most wanted his lips. “I noticed what got to you. I know where you crave so much more. But you haven’t yet earned it.” He looked at Killian, almost disappointed that his future self would stand untouched and lend a comforting hand rather than take what they all knew he wanted, then looked back at Emma. “I want you to suck his cock. Put those sweet little hands on his leathers, take it out, and show him what he’s been waiting for all along.”

Emma and Killian shared a glance before she practically purred, “Yes, Captain.”

“Ooh, I like that,” Hook growled, rewarding her with another pass from his tongue. “You know we’re in charge here, don’t you? You know what being a good little wench will get you.” Emma jumped as his hook met her slick flesh once more, the touch of the cool metal jarring after the softness of his tongue and the warmth of his breath. “Go on, love. Obey your Captain’s orders.”

Emma let go of Killian and reached for the laces of his leathers. Hook impatiently egged her on as she took as much care as Killian did with her bodice, both eager and unprepared to see what hid behind the tight material. When at last Emma finished with the laces, Killian helped her lower the leather down over his hips, freeing his cock as it subtly swayed in front of her face from his movement.

“Staring at it won’t get us very far, lass,” Hook scoffed. “If you don’t know what to do with one, he can help you if I haven’t become too prudish.”

“I can handle it,” Emma bit back. She knew what she was doing; of that she was confident. She just hadn’t expected to be doing it with Killian so soon, let alone two of him, and that’s what riled her nerves.

“Then fucking handle it.” Lowering his hook, he threatened, “You don’t get more from me until he’s balls deep in your pretty little throat.”

Killian tensed and relaxed as Emma hesitantly wrapped her hands around his cock, gritting his teeth as she began to pump him with languid strokes. He was already hard for her; he always was. For as often as he wondered what it would be like if they were to finally share some intimacy, he never imagined their first time together would have been like this. Or, he supposed, his first and second time with her.

“Gods, Emma, please,” he moaned as he rutted into her hands. “Keep doing that.”

He was at least as thick as Emma had figured he would be, perhaps more so as he seemed to swell further in her fists, and as long as she’d secretly hoped. Not that she thought about it all that much, of course, but sometimes she couldn’t help it when he always wore such damn tight pants that left little to her imagination. He made it easy to want him, and that only made it harder for her to admit that she did. She would have to remember to thank his past self for his open determination.

“Take a taste of him,” Hook goaded, watching her as he nosed along the crease of her thigh. “Wrap your perfect lips around him like a good little wench, and I’ll put mine back on your clit.”

“Yes please, Captain,” Emma said, hoping he wouldn’t wait. “Lean closer,” she told Killian, parting her lips and taking just the tip of him between them before sucking hard, swiping her tongue over his slit as he hissed sharply and bucked into her mouth.

“Don’t tease him, darling,” Hook smirked as he did exactly that to Emma, pressing his palm to her flesh and brushing his thumb back and forth just above where he knew she ached for it.

“Fucking hell, Emma,” Killian breathed as she took him deeper with each roll of his hips. As his hand fisted in her hair and cradled her head, it took everything in him not to thrust too hard. “So fucking good.”

“There’s a good girl,” Hook praised. Emma jumped as he dragged his teeth down her inner thigh, whining in frustration around Killian’s cock. “Shh,” he soothed, “I’m a man of my word, don’t fret. But first, a wench as good as you deserves to wear her Captain’s mark, doesn’t she?” As Hook clamped down on her soft flesh, Emma gasped at the sudden pricks of pain, coughing around Killian as she choked on her own saliva.

“Are you alright, Emma?” Killian asked softly as he reluctantly pulled back and gave her a moment to breathe.

“She’s fine,” Hook answered for her as he worked a small bruise into her skin and used his tongue to lave over the impressions left by his teeth.

“I’m fine,” Emma reassured him, urging him closer again. “I want more of you, Killian, please.” Arching her brow at Hook, she continued, “And I want that you to keep his fucking promise.”

“You’ve too much fire for your own good.” Hook returned Emma’s expression and said to his future self, “I see why you like her.” With that, he sealed his lips over her clit and sucked hard with pulsing force. “Gods, I love the way you taste,” he muttered. As she writhed on his tongue and moaned around his duplicate who once again filled her mouth, Hook slid his fingers along her dripping wet folds and eased two inside her. As he pumped and curled them again and again, faster and faster, he asked, “Tell me, have you ever had your mouth and your cunt fucked at the same time?”

“Uh uhn,” Emma replied, her mouth full of Killian, rocking her hips in search of more.

“Oh darling, then let me—let us—enlighten you.” Hook loosened his laces as he got to his feet and tugged off his leathers. Taking his cock in hand, he aligned himself with her entrance and pressed the flat of his hook against her stomach to hold her in place as he steadily filled her. The satisfying stretch would have taken Emma’s breath away if she’d had any left as Killian thrust into her mouth. “Gods, you feel fucking fantastic,” Hook moaned, sighing at the bit of relief he found in her heat. “She’s so bloody tight.”

“You should try her mouth,” Killian muttered. A groan caught in his throat at a sudden new sensation. “Gods, she fucking swallows. You’re gonna make me fucking come like that, Emma. Bloody hell.”

“What do you say, lass?” Hook asked Emma as he continued pounding into her. “You’ve got my cock all nice and wet. Should we switch so you can taste it?”

“Nnhnn,” Emma nodded, her movement restricted by Killian as he pushed deeper and held her flush against himself.

“You heard the wench,” Hook smirked at Killian, leaving Emma feeling suddenly empty as he pulled out of her, making her squirm as he teased her clit with the tip of his cock. Killian retreated too, peeling off his leathers the rest of the way to grant himself easier movement. As the two men traded positions, Hook instructed Emma, “Roll onto your stomach. I want to see your pretty eyes as I fuck your throat.” As she obeyed, he added, “On your knees, get your arse in the air for him. That’s it.”

“Gods, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” Killian praised as he swatted her ass and gripped her flesh in his hand. He already missed her mouth, but he was eager to feel her heat instead. “Look at you, so wet and eager between the two of us. It seems you’ve wanted this as long as I have.” Killian looped his arm under Emma’s stomach and reached for her clit, making her legs slide further apart on the desk as he rolled and pinched the sensitive nub. “Take me in, love,” he breathed as he aligned himself with her entrance and pushed forward.

Emma’s mouth fell open as Killian filled her completely, and Hook seized the opportunity to take it, relishing the feel of her moan around his cock.

“Fuck, you weren’t kidding, were you?” Hook panted, talking to Killian as he watched Emma seal her lips around him and suck. “She’s bloody fucking fantastic.”

Emma hummed at the compliment and swallowed lightly, the corners of her lips turning upward as Hook called her a good girl again. As Hook’s fingers made their way back to her hair, Killian’s gripped her ass, roughly kneading her flesh as if to curb his desire to fuck her harder, the effort in his restraint made clearer in his clenched jaw and painfully tense stance.

“She’s not made of porcelain, mate,” Hook reassured, noticing Killian’s hesitance. “You won’t break her.” He glanced down at Emma, wrenching back her head so she met his gaze as he fucked her mouth and continued, “She wants to be thoroughly used. Don’t you, wench?”

Emma tried her best to nod, another rush of arousal coursing through her at his words, but Hook made it difficult as he plunged as deep as he could down her throat and held her head firmly in place until her gagging became a promise none of them wanted to endure. She gasped and coughed as he let her go, catching her breath before she confidently took him in just as deeply on her own, sweetly looking up at him as she bobbed along his length and bucked back onto Killian.

“Bloody fucking hell! See?” Hook yanked her hair, and the erotic sound she released at the pleasurable pain was enough to give him brief pause as he raised his brow at her.

“Did you like that?”

Hook grinned as Emma nodded, and he thrust forward again.

“Do you want more?”

“Mmhmmn.” Emma slid her tongue along Hook’s shaft as she impatiently rocked back onto Killian, who had slowed in order to keep a careful eye on Hook.

“Tell us how you want it then.” Hook’s eyes were positively wild as he challenged her.

“Harder, Captain.”

“There’s a good wench.” Jerking her head back by her hair, Hook held Emma firmly and slammed into her mouth, paying no regard to her heaving sounds as he plunged a little too far each time. He glanced at his still slow-moving counterpart and growled, “You heard her, too. Be the gentleman and give the lady what she wants. Tell him,” he ordered, pulling her head back for her to say it again.

“Fuck me harder, Killian,” she begged breathlessly. “Ple—” Hook interrupted her, filling her mouth hard and fast.

“Gods, Emma.” Killian lost all his restraint then. His fingers dug into her hip as he gripped her tightly, the flat of his hook at her other side to keep her steady, as he snapped his hips with abandon. “As you wish.” If Emma wanted it rough, they were damn well going to give it to her. Gods knew he longed to take her on every surface in his ship and beyond; he wasn’t about to deny her desperate plea.

It didn’t take long for Emma to approach her climax. She visibly shook between them as they quickly brought her closer to the edge, tensing and relaxing as she tried her best to prolong the feeling.

“Look at her trembling,” the Killian behind her devilishly teased as he steadily snapped his hips nonetheless. “I’m beginning to think she can’t handle us both.”

“Mm, I think we’re exactly what she needs,” Hook purred. “Isn’t that right, little wench?”

Emma nodded as she gagged on his cock, swallowing him deeper without much choice as he held her firmly by her hair. Gods, it was so intense, pinned between the two almost as if they were connected inside her, rocking back onto one cock before leaning forward to take the other into her mouth and endlessly repeating the intoxicating cycle.

“I think she’s going to come.” Emma could hear the smirk in Killian’s voice as he fucked her harder, faster. She gasped as his hand found her clit, earning herself a yank on her hair by his harsher counterpart as her sucking faltered.

“Keep up, lass, or we won’t let you.”

Emma wasn’t sure which one of them said it as they both stopped for an agonizing moment before pounding her in synchrony. She almost cried from how wonderfully overwhelming it was, but then they kept talking, both to her and to each other, and she finally, blissfully spun out of control.

“Come on, I want to feel you swallow again.”

“Gods, she’s fucking squeezing me.”

“Touch her clit.”

“She’s so fucking sensitive. Aren’t you, love?”

“Fuck!” Emma screamed, muffled by Hook’s cock filling her mouth as he held her against himself while she spasmed on Killian’s. It was the most intoxicating orgasm of her life, both versions of the pirate flooding her senses as she rode the waves of euphoria. The taste of him, the feel of him, it was too much, and it was perfect.

As she came down from her high, they lifted her to her feet, far more gently than their actions just a moment ago. Emma didn’t know how she would stay upright, hurriedly wrapping her arms around Hook’s neck and clinging to him as her knees buckled beneath her. Killian caught her from behind as they both chuckled lightly, his hand at her hip as he brushed her hair over her shoulder with his hook and kissed her neck, his lips wet and warm against her already heated skin.

“That was—” Emma started breathlessly.

“I know,” they both muttered with a smirk.

Hook slanted his mouth over Emma’s and kissed her senseless as that of his future self roamed her back. Killian sank to his knees behind her, traveling lower, lower, until he made her gasp as he sucked at her clit and prodded inside her with a hummed groan. The soft touch of his tongue was a welcome change of pace, and she melted into Hook’s embrace.

“I couldn’t resist,” Killian sighed contentedly against her slick flesh as he continued to slake his thirst between her legs. “I remembered now, how you tasted to him all these years ago, and I had to have you again at last.”

“Delicious, isn’t she?”

“Mmm.”

Supporting her with his hand splayed against the small of her back, Hook bent Emma backwards and mapped her chest with his lips.

“These deserve much more attention than they’ve gotten from us. Perhaps we should remedy that, aye?” Hook gently sucked her nipple into his mouth as Killian did the same to her clit, coaxing the peak to attention with his teeth and quick flicks of his tongue.

Emma’s soft gasps drew hungry groans of encouragement from both men as their expertise stirred the beginnings of another release deep within her, the tension coiling low in her belly with every little tease. But she remained just barely on the precipice as Killian soon pulled away reluctantly and stood beside his counterpart.

Hook turned his body aside and welcomed Killian to the sultry feast. They were so in sync, which should have been unsurprising given that they were technically one and the same, but it still blew Emma’s mind how little had changed despite how different Killian had clearly become from his past self.

As they both tended to her breasts with such fervor, Hook’s hand gradually slid lower still, and he cupped her ass in his palm as his fingertips inched toward his goal. Killian’s hand moved in tandem in front of her, once again finding her overstimulated clit and rubbing it in soothing circles, but it was Hook’s confident prodding that made Emma breathless.

“Easy,” Hook cooed, working a finger inside her as he dragged his lips back to the crook of her neck. “Would you give us your arse, darling?” he asked sweetly as he peppered her with kisses, surprising her by making a sincere request. “We could make you feel so full.” He looked up at her, and gods, she could’ve lost herself in his eyes. “Please?”

Emma glanced at Killian, hoping to see his reaction. It wasn’t something she’d done often, and she wasn’t sure how much she trusted his past self to be patient with her. But if he had some sort of lubricant they could use, well, she was certainly curious what it would feel like to have them both inside her, and she wouldn’t have another opportunity to find out if she hesitated.

“Only if—” Killian, look at me please, Emma thought “—only if he’s the one to take it.”

Killian snapped back to the moment then, his precise focus on her breast brought to a halt as his thoughts caught up with his ears. Emma hadn’t meant to put pressure on him, and Hook didn’t seem to be thrilled that he would be denied the privilege either way, but nonetheless the prospect remained an exciting venture.

“Emma….” For the first time, Killian Jones didn’t know what to say. His hand left her sensitive flesh in favor of scratching behind his ear, almost as if he were nervous. He could certainly handle it, and he believed he could make it good for her, but he knew she was hesitant and didn’t want to push her as much as his past self did.

“Maybe we just need to show him what you have to offer,” Hook murmured against the base of her ear. Spinning her to face him, Hook grasped Emma’s hand and walked her to his bed. He sat first on the edge of the mattress, his feet planted firmly on the floor, before waving her onto his lap. “Come on.”

Emma straddled his legs and lowered herself onto his cock, sighing as he stretched her once more. Gods, she wasn’t sure how she’d ever handle two of him, even if they wouldn’t be filling the same spot.

“There’s a good girl,” he smirked. Palming her ass and pressing the flat of his hook to the other side, he spread her apart to give Killian a full view as he thrust up into her and teased her ass with his fingertips. “Look at her. We both know you want it.”

As Emma moaned and bounced on Hook’s lap, Killian swallowed hard and asked, “Emma, are you sure?”

Hook locked eyes with her and nodded in reassurance.

“Yes.” Emma sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and worried it for a moment before repeating with more certainty, “Yes please.”

“Mmm, naughty fucking wench,” Hook growled low in her ear, making her blush, before he addressed Killian again. Jutting his head toward the cabinets across the room, he instructed, “The door on the right. There’s a small bottle of oil on the top shelf. Get it.”

Killian took his own order, bristling at the insinuation that he didn’t know where things were kept on his own ship. After retrieving the bottle, he stepped behind Emma, massaging her flesh as he drizzled some of the liquid onto her skin. Her light hum made him smile, and he kissed across the back of her shoulders as he poured the oil generously over her puckered hole, coating his fingers and easing them inside her.

“Lean forward, lass,” Hook purred, pressing his hook to the small of her back and cupping the back of her head with his hand, holding her against his chest as he settled back onto the mattress and let himself slip from her core. “That’s it. Let him have you.”

“Just…” Emma started, suddenly anxious but no less interested, “just be gentle.” She expected Hook to tease her for her request, but he simply kissed her, stroking her hair as he nipped at her lips.

“Of course.” Killian pressed his words into her spine as he slowly worked her open, pausing occasionally to apply more lubricant to his fingers as he got her used to the feel of them inside her.

“We don’t want to hurt you.” Hook surprised her with his promise. “This is as much for you as it is for us.”

“Thank you,” Emma said softly. Both men hummed in response and continued their efforts to ease her tension.

It didn’t take long before they had her moaning again. The tender touch of their lips against her heated skin, the brush of their cocks against her most sensitive flesh as she rocked into Hook and felt Killian finally align himself, their hands and hooks roaming her body and keeping her steady—it was all too much and all too perfect all at once.

“Tell me if you need me to stop.”

Killian coated his cock in the oil and slowly rolled his hips forward, filling Emma’s ass inch by agonizing inch. Her moans of “fuck, Fuck, FUCK” heightening in pitch and increasing in volume until he was fully seated inside her. Patiently he waited to move as he kissed away the tension which arched her back and stiffened her shoulders, allowing her to adjust to his size.

“Gods, you’re perfect,” he praised. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yes,” she sighed, urging him to move as she canted her hips to give him a better angle. “Yes, it’s—I’m—you’re good, Killian. So good.”

“Give her what she needs,” Hook growled eagerly.

As Killian eased into a pulsing rhythm, Hook palmed Emma’s breast as he brought his mouth to her nipple once more. He groaned as he swirled his tongue around the stiff peak until she was panting above him.

“Look at you, stretching for me like this,” Killian praised, his voice still full of disbelief that they were actually, finally doing this together. “Taking me in your perfect, tight arse. Bloody hell, Emma, I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“How sweet,” Hook dismissed his future self, far more interested in joining him than hearing his already obvious confession. Keeping Emma balanced with his hook at her side, the Captain lowered his hand between them and wrapped his fingers around his cock, dragging the tip through her folds and tapping it on her clit. Meeting her gaze, he asked, “Can you be a really good girl and take me back into your sweet little cunt while he fucks your arse?”

Hook’s words were blunt and lewd, and yet Emma felt there was something oddly endearing about them. Maybe she saw a bit of the Killian she knew in his request for permission, or maybe she was just so horny that the thought of the two of them fucking her at the same time simply made her wetter. In any case, she nodded with a small “yes please” as she smiled and nipped at his lips, waiting for him to fill her too.

“Gods, you’re bloody perfect,” Hook sighed as he carefully but quickly slipped inside her, falling easily into Killian’s rhythm, syncopated at first to let her get accustomed to their thrusts before he matched his counterpart and they stretched her together.

Emma’s mouth fell open and she wanted to speak, to tell them both what they were doing to her, how full she felt, how close they were bringing her to another climax. But she couldn’t find the words, and she realized that they, too, had stopped speaking in favor of filling the room with loud groans and desperate moans.

“Come,” Hook muttered through gritted teeth. “Come on, lass. We won’t be far behind. Come for us.”

“Please, Emma,” Killian breathed against her neck, his lips latching on as he whined in his own urgency.

Emma writhed between them and couldn’t decide whether to cry his name or his moniker as her left hand anchored in Hook’s hair and her right searched for that of the Killian behind her. Her knees dug into Hook’s sides as her legs drew together and the tension inside her snapped, soaking the Captain’s cock as he thrust faster and faster.

“I want you both to come too.” Emma’s eyes flicked between the two of them. As Killian’s hips stuttered, Emma reached out for him and held him close. “Please. It’s alright,” she encouraged, and it didn’t take much more coaxing before he stilled and spilled himself in her ass. “Fuck,” she breathed, and he did just that, pushing it deeper inside her until he couldn’t take it any more.

“Fuck, I’m—” Hook lifted Emma enough to let his cock slip from her core just in time for his release to shoot out in thick creamy ropes across their stomachs. His chest heaved as he caught his breath to answer her curious expression. “I imagine that’s not a risk you have the luxury to take right now, darling. Add time travel to the mix, and well, who knows what effect that could have on you.”

Emma nodded, grateful for his unexpected precaution. He certainly knew how to surprise her in the best ways.

But then she couldn’t help but laugh, a bubbling giggle overtaking her at the impossible circumstances they found themselves in together, and at the mindblowing sex, the way the intense pleasure of her orgasm flooded her mind with pure, sated delight. She tucked her head beneath Hook’s chin, blissfully sore and too spent to move as both men smiled and embraced her as they covered her in kisses.

“I suppose,” Killian said softly against Emma’s shoulder blade as he soothingly rubbed her back, “we might want to get back on schedule. As tempting as it is to rest, we’ve already taken quite the detour.”

“Mmmm, I don’t want to leave,” Emma huffed as she traced nonsense shapes on Hook’s chest. “But I guess you’re right.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Hook echoed, gently tangling his fingers in her hair as he cupped the back of her head, caressing her neck with his thumb. “But if what you said was true, if your very existence is on the line, I should not have kept you as long as I already have.” Guiding her to sit up with him, Hook continued, “I know I’ll have you at least once more. That’s enough for me to let you go now. But perhaps you would be so kind as to not keep him waiting so long for the next time, aye?”

A smile tugged at the corners of Emma’s mouth as she averted her gaze and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling more vulnerable with them than she had been all night. Hook set her on her feet and stood with her as Killian retrieved their clothing.

“I wouldn’t mind that, you know,” Killian teased as he helped her back into her gown. As erotic as it was to let him slowly unwrap her, it felt like a different, oddly deeper sort of intimacy as he effortlessly dressed her and looked into her eyes as he tied the bow with the help of his teeth.

Emma replied with a kiss, soft yet passionate as she stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around him.

Hook dressed as he watched them, the sight of his future self with Emma like that stirring him again. Scratching behind his ear as he cleared his throat, he politely interrupted them.

“We should probably—”

“—Go.”

“Yeah.” Emma stepped back to let Killian pull on his leathers before helping him with the laces, granting him the same tenderness he’d shown her. Pressing her hand to his chest in the exposed V, feeling his heartbeat beneath her palm, she smirked and said, “Maybe… I might not mind that either. And thank you,” she continued as she turned to Hook and settled her hands on his shoulders, “for helping me say it.”

She kissed Hook’s cheek, devilishly chaste, and laughed as he caught her around her waist before she could move away.

“That’s certainly not the final memory you’re going to leave me with, is it?” he growled into the crook of her neck, delighting in how ticklish she was there and making a mental note that he hoped he’d remember for however many years down the line until they’d meet again. He slanted his mouth over hers, and she melted in his arms as he made it that much more difficult to leave the Jolly and his embrace.

When Hook at last let her go, the three said their reluctant goodbyes. Emma and Killian made their way above deck without the Captain, fearing the effect it might have on poor Mr. Smee to see two of him at once as he kept watch.

Emma curled her fingers around the curve of Killian’s hook and rested her head against his shoulder as they journeyed on to the next part of their adventure.

——

Tag list ❤️: @anothersworld @batana54 @darkcolinodonorgasm @deckerstarblanche @donteattheappleshook @elizabeethan @holdingoutforapiratehero @hollyethecurious @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @jonesfandomfanatic @jrob64 @justanother-unluckysoul @karlyfr13s @klynn-stormz @kmomof4 @laschatzi @motherkatereloyshipper @qualitycoffeethings @resident-of-storybrooke @sotangledupinit @stahlop @teamhook @the-darkdragonfly @thejollyroger-writer @tiganasummertree @ultraluckycatnd @veryverynotgoodwrites @wefoundloveunderthelight @whimsicallyenchantedrose @xhookswenchx @xsajx @zaharadessert

[mrdarcygenderenvy]

2005 Joe Wright Pride & Prejudice (ranked out of 10 on my own esoteric metrics)

As Pride & Prejudice-s go, this is the Big One for a lot of people my age. It’s a classic and I have Opinions.

IN SHORT: The film is full of disgustingly lovely visuals and COMMITTED TO THE ROMANCE/ YEARNING to a degree I frankly respect. Immaculate vibes in individual scenes. Lbr, 2020 Emma wishes it had the energy of this film.

Extra credit: Romantic Horniness rating

The unashamed breathless horniness of this Mr Darcy is the defining feature of this film to me and also the film knows it. CONSIDER: the first proposal being a 100% ‘staring at each others lips angrily’ scene in the rain, the classique hand flex after he helps Elizabeth into a carriage, the mystifying choice to have him wandering the moors tits-out in the sunrise, and then fate wafts Lizzie out there too and the two of them practically try to eat/ make out with the sun like a leaning tower of Pisa photo op.

Every creative choice in this film is towards its own idea of what’s pretty and sexy - even if for me, that actually most closely lines up with my personal aesthetic when the thing they have a big hard on for is ‘shots of a lake in afternoon light’ and ‘cool rocks in the peak district’.

mmm

FAST TAKES - The (UK) ending is mystifyingly abrupt - The sisters’ casting is bang on, especially Rosamund Pike Jane (EFFERVESCENT) - Wickham barely gets a look in because everything’s too busy looking beautifully lit but maybe that’s okay - Why is Caroline Bingley wearing a sleeveless dress A CLASSIC

Wildness: 6/10. Yes, it’s a horny romance adaptation of a book whose main appeal is not necessarily romance, and what’s more classic hollywood than that. BUT ALSO, think about the swing scene where Lizzie spins a bit and the seasons pass, the choice to have a pig walking through the house and prominent pig balls shot, and the admirably bold idea of prioritising a long continuous shots of ‘lake’ and ‘in and out of the windows of the house’ over bothering to flesh out Wickham or Mary or explain why Lizzie is inside Darcy’s house. Also, the ‘sculpture gallery, having a big wank over classicism and colonial spoils’ vibe bit of Darcy’s house MAY BE in a real old house, but it fully looks like they’ve teleported to the modern day british museum in a piece of masterful surrealism. This film is fervently here for the aesthetic above all else, including things making sense, and surely there’s a feral energy to that.

LAKE!!!!

Mr Darcy gender envy rating: 4/10. I do not personally find Matthew Macfadyen attractive and I’m pride and prejudiced against this era’s hair. That said, he is tall, which I do envy, and he is a bit pathetic, which I relate to.

(TANGENT, I’m arguably more envious of his cheating, boisterous, lusciously moustachio’d avatar in 2012 Anna Karenina, a very theatrically visually lovely adaptation by the same director where him and Kiera Knightley are brother and sister both giving sort of ‘fun horny fuckup’ vibes. If you liked this P&P, I recommend this film. Also do you think despite Jude Law always having nasty energy, he only started being increasingly cast as evil as his hairline receded because society is terrible? I’M GETTING OFF TRACK.)

How much I have a crush on Elizabeth rating: 8/10, Kiera Knightley is obviously a babe but as a young teenager I was definitely more emotionally overcome by seeing her being a pirate

Shoutout to: That fucking great tree Elizabeth sits on in Derbyshire. THIS IS MY FAVOURITE SCENE OF THE FILM IT’S SUCH A GOOD TREE

Also shoutout to the Lady Catherine Reveal scene that my partner thinks is really funny because they really linger on revealing it’s Judi Dench. Like ‘guess who we fucking got…… wait for it…. JUDI DENCH, BABY!!!!’ and then she’s sitting in this insane room of paintings which I guess is just the fanciest filming location they could find, who needs context

OVERALL RATING: a wet horny classic

[hanniiesuckle17]

The Modern Wife

HAN JISUNG REGENCY AU

A/n: Literally I’ve been so obsessed with the idea of this I had to mess up my schedule and write this. Also, omg will you look at that edit job??? I have never used photoshop in my life and look at that!!! Also special shoutout to Celi @poeticallyspaghetti​ for helping me so much with this

See how many Austen quotes you can spot!

Warnings: Slight cursing, mention of violence

Word Count: 11.5k

Summary: Miss Y/n L/n is the talk of the town. She is one of four gorgeous sisters. Her father is a successful politician who travels frequently back and forth to London. She is beautiful, poised, and absolutely unobtainable. Every man in town had been asking for her hand, all except a certain Colonel. Things are turned upside down when Miss L/n is forced into an engagement.

Genre: history!au, enemies to lovers!au, regency!au, historical!au, pride, and prejudice!au

“OW! Not so tight, Harry!” I screamed holding onto my bedposts as my maid and friend, Harriet pulled the laces tight on my corset. “Harry, are you trying to kill me?” I said with a laugh. The small thin plank of wood in the boning pressed hard against my chest and pushed up my breasts as high as they would go for no reason other than to put them on display. 

Ironic that it was unseemly to show my ankle but my cleavage could parade about the world openly. For the next forty minutes, Harriet proceeded to help me get dressed. The pale yellow frock complimented my skin nicely. Harriet always knew what I looked best in. She sat me down at my vanity while she fixed my hair, untwisted the fabric that tied my curls. Before she could finish my eyes glimpsed movement outside my window. 

“Cecilia!”

Bolting up from the chair I ran down the hall, fabric billowing behind me. I rushed passed several servants as I made my way down the sunlit passageway. “Miss Y/n,” our butler, Mr. Carson, exclaimed as I nearly ran him over. Thankfully he did not drop the glassware on his tray. “I’m sorry, Carson!” “Don’t worry about it, my lady.”

With a bright smile, I burst through the large entryway doors and was met by a gracious morning breeze, A carriage had pulled up in the driveway and a woman a few years older than me was exiting the cab with the help of a footman.

“Cecilia! You’re home!” 

“Y/n!”

Wrapping my arms around my elder sister I gave her the biggest hug imaginable. The sound of our laughter could most likely be heard from anywhere on the grounds. I was once again reunited with my sister. She had not been gone but a few months since her last visit, but it felt like ages to me. 

“I should hope I get the same welcoming as my wife,” Turning away, I saw my sister’s husband stepping out of the carriage, a kind smile on his face. “Of course, Chan. I could never forget my brother in law.” He gently gave me a hug before returning me back to my sister. 

“Is father home?” I shook my head, leading my sister arm in arm into the house. “No, he has yet to return from London.” She scoffed and held my hand tighter. “But, it is the beginning of spring! How can he miss your birthday?” Carson greeted Cecilia and Chan with a warm welcome before we continued to the parlor. 

“Do not worry. Papa said he would return in the next few days in time for the ball on Saturday. Tomorrow we girls will simply have to celebrate my nineteenth birthday together.” Chan left us to talk while he helped tried to help Carson and the footmen with the bags, much to Carson’s displeasure. Chan never could really get used to having servants do things for him.

“Where are Charlotte and Emma?” Cecilia was referring to our two younger sisters. Charlotte had turned sixteen this year and little Emma was now ten. “They are in lessons right now. Papa is still positively adamant we are all educated to the highest degree.”  “Of course, he is.”

My sister filled me in on everything that had happened in Dover in the past few months. She and Chan had moved there after they got married, much against father’s will. “Oh, Chan got a letter before we left. He said the Colonel was in London and met up with father. He might come back to Surrey for the spring.” 

Cecilia laughed as disdain took over my face. “Wonderful. There go my hopes of a lovely spring.” “He isn’t that bad, Y/n.” The Colonel was around Cecilia’s age, in his very early twenties. He was the one who introduced Chan to Cecilia. Chan had served in his infantry and had grown quite close to the young officer. 

Father adored the Colonel. Anytime the Colonel returned to Surrey, Papa would insist on us inviting him to our residence. Everyone loved the Colonel. He was a brave man who had done his country proud in the war, taking over his father’s position in the midst of battle after he tragically perished. There was just something about him that made me hate him. He walked around like he was entitled to everything around him. 

“Does that mean he’ll be returning with father?” Cecilia nodded as her husband entered the room. “Who?” Chan asked sitting across from us. “Colonel Han,” Chan nodded with a soft smile on his face, adjusting his jacket. “I assume so. Miss Y/n why are you asking about him? If my memory serves me correctly, the last time he was here you called him ‘Death’s head on a broomstick’,” 

“Well, it was rightly deserved. I’m simply asking because I would like to know when to board up Whitewater so that he simply can’t get in.” 

Cecilia’s bright blue eyes crinkled as she laughed. Running footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. In raced two girls who practically jumped on Cecilia. “Cecilia, we missed you!” Emma sang in her soft voice. Charlotte went and gave Chan a gentle hug as well. 

The next day we celebrated my birthday. Chan and Cecilia got me a lovely gift, a gorgeous leather-bound sketchbook. I knew there was no way they could possibly afford something of such quality, but Cecilia insisted I take it. Carson and the staff celebrated with us making and sharing a beautiful cake. The next two days went by quickly. Chan worked on his music, the girls continued their studies, and Cecilia and I spent the time walking the grounds and gossiping about anything and everything, with Harriet often joining us

On Thursday afternoon, Charlotte and I were strolling near the banks of the creek, for which our estate was named. The clear water quickly rushed along making almost a soft song with the wind in the trees. Soon, we began to grow tired so we headed back to Whitewater.

As we reached the estate, my eyes were drawn to a carriage and a horse stationed outside. No one was expecting visitors so it must mean father was home. Charlotte and I raced into the house, grins filling our faces. 

“Papa! Are you home?” I called out. Charlotte heard voices in the parlor, so we both ventured into the sitting room. “There are the rest of my beautiful daughters!” He exclaimed, getting up and wrapping his arms around us. It felt so good to have my father’s arms wrapped around me again. His familiar smell of burning wood and lavender. 

He pulled away and kissed each of our cheeks. “Girls, you remember Colonel Han Jisung.” I tried to hide the grimace on my face but failed. Of course. That’s whose horse was out front. My eyes fell on the man standing near the window. He wore a dark navy overcoat and pristine black boots. While his somewhat smaller and shorter than some of the other military men I had met in the past, there was no doubt about the way he commanded the room.  His shaggy brown hair was tousled from the ride back to Surrey. 

His dark eyes were hidden as he bowed and took Charlotte’s hand. A proper way to greet a lady. “Yes, unfortunately, I do remember,” I said rolling my eyes. “Believe me, feelings are the same Miss L/n.” The Colonel said giving me a curt bow. Rolling my eyes, I sat down next to Cecilia, who nudged me, giving me a look. 

“Papa, how was London?” Charlotte asked happily. Father smiled and sat back down near the fireplace. Mr. Han remained standing near where Chan was sitting. “Perfectly fine. Everything is well. It seems Napoleon’s advances in England have stopped for the time being. Also, I met quite an intriguing man and invited him to have dinner with us this evening.” 

“Is he handsome, Father?” Charlotte asked. “Charlotte, do not ask such things.” Cecilia scolded, gently pushing our sister back in her seat. “I should think so. Colonel, you are welcome to join us for supper as well.” 

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You do most days anyway,” I muttered under my breath.

Ignoring the look he sent my way I turned back to father. “Nonsense! You shall join us!” The hour seemed to drag on. Father and Mr.Han seemed to only talk about the war. Papa only paused to ask Cecilia and Chan about Dover and Chan’s music. To be fair he only asked because Cecilia forced him to be civil with Chan about his work.

Soon, The Colonel decided he should return to his estate and unpack his things. “Thank you for your time. The visit was lovely.” He said graciously. Giving everyone a short goodbye, he mounted his horse and made the travel to Ruxfield Manor a few miles to the west of Whitewater.

“That was an eventful visit,” Cecilia said wrapping her arm in mine.

“It was a delightful visit-perfect in being much too short.” 

She laughed at my comment as the two of us climbed the stairs to get ready for dinner in a few hours. Harriet helped me change for dinner and pinned up my hair leaving a few twisting strands loose framing my face. “Carson told me your father and his guests are already in the sitting room,” I sighed picking up a handheld mirror as she clasped a necklace around my neck.

“Well, then we should join them.” I stood up, smoothing the dark green fabric of the dress Harriet had picked out. As I exited my bedroom, the door next to me opened as well to reveal my sister and her husband dressed for dinner. As we approached the parlor, Carson opened the door and announced us.

“Miss Y/n and Mr. and Mrs. Bang.”

All heads turned towards us as we entered the room. Two men stood up at the announcement. One was the Colonel, purely out of respect for the women of the household. His eyes never even moved to the door. The other man wore a dark almost velvet-like coat and he carried himself with high prestige. 

He had deep brown eyes and sharp features. “My darling girls,” Father exclaimed before setting down his glass of sherry. He came and kissed both of our cheeks. “Father,” I said, latching onto his arm. He led us over to the men and our sisters. 

“Mr. Han,” I said trying not to roll my eyes. He gave me a curt nod and then returned to his seat. “Y/n play nice,” Papa said jokingly. “I am, Papa!” 

“Miss Y/n,” The other man said bowing before me. I couldn’t help but give him a questioning look as he took my hand and placed a soft and chaste kiss on my skin. “Oh, and to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“Angel, this is Mr. Lee. He is a barrister in London. Minho, this is my second eldest daughter.” Mr. Lee stood up straight and looked me over with a gentle, but mischievous smile. “The pleasure is all mine. Your father has told me so much about you.” 

“Oh has he now! All good things I hope!”

“You can you tell the difference?” The Colonel mumbled, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Oh please, you are hardly agreeable yourself.”

“I do not wish people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of being forced into casual pleasantries.”

Thankfully, Carson entered the room, saving the Colonel and myself from getting into yet another altercation. “Dinner is ready to be served in the dining room.” Mr. Han scoffed when Minho bowed once again and offered me his arm. The eight of us ventured into the dining room where our new light bulbs brightened up the space from the ceiling. Father was obsessed with every new invention.

Papa took his place at the head of the table, the girls on either side of him. Cecilia sat across from her husband and the Colonel was seated next to her and across from me. Mr. Lee was seated at the other end of the table.  

Polite conversation was heard throughout dinner. The girls discussed their studies with father, who then bragged about our education to Mr. Lee. Dinner was lovely as always. Mr. Lee was beyond courteous and thanked Carson and the staff for the meal. We engaged in polite conversation. Mr. Lee seemed to pride himself in small talk because the conversation never got any bigger. “You know green is my favorite color. It is almost as if you wore that dress to see me smile.”

To be frank he was quite boring. He seemed no different than the other men I had met except for the fact he seemed fascinated by the cats on his estate. Cecilia sent me a pitiful glance and I did my best to hide my expression from Father. 

“Doori is just so mischievous. And Soongi! You would love Soongi!” Cecilia stifled a laugh as I downed the rest of the wine in my glass. I was too preoccupied forcing the alcohol down my throat that I didn’t notice Mr. Han’s soft laughter at my struggle with Mr. Lee. 

“Since we are all here and getting along so well, I would like to say something,” Father announced to the room. Carson ushered the footmen out of the room and back to the kitchen before turning back to Father at full attention. Every eye at the table was on Papa.

“After much discussion and thought, I have decided that it is time for Y/n to be married.” 

All eyes turned to me. I froze and looked around the table. Excuse me? When did my father talk to me about this? He was just marrying me off to some random noble?

“Mr. Lee and I have agreed. We would like to announce an engagement by the end of the summer.” 

This time all eyes turned to Mr. Lee at the other end of the table. “What?” Cecilia says breaking the silence that had lasted for much too long. I could do nothing but stare at the table. There were too many emotions flying around and none of them were particularly good let alone ladylike. Everyone, even the Colonel looked between my father and Mr. Lee with widened eyes. Chan watched his wife struggling to comprehend my fate. The girls stared at me looking for an answer. I felt the Colonel’s stare like a weight, when I looked up he was looking anywhere except my face. He let out a hefty sigh with an emotionless expression as he soon became fascinated with the chandelier.

“Did you think to ask me how I felt?” Papa looked at me, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. “I didn’t think you would much care,” All of my sisters seemed shocked at his words. Father had always been so set on us making our own decisions. He always wanted us to be happy, especially after our mother had passed.

“Just because Cecilia decided she did not want to marry a noble doesn’t mean you can pass this onto me!” Cecilia looked down at her plate. It was no secret that Papa was outraged at her marriage to Chan. “This has nothing to do with your sister.” 

“You are sending me away! Why not just make this punishment even worse? Send me off with the Colonel, make my life completely miserable!”

“Y/n L/n!” Father yelled standing up. 

“Father you are at fault here too,” Cecilia said standing up. She rushed over and led me out of the room and up the stairs. When Harriet saw us down the hall she rushed to us and opened the door to my bedroom. “Did you hear, Harry?” You looked at the girl who sadly nodded. Of course, she had heard. People in France had heard the argument between me and Papa. Cecilia helped Harriet calm me down and change before placing a kiss on my forehead and leaving to confer with her husband. Slowly I slipped into a deep sleep hoping to forget the events of this night.

The next afternoon my sister and I strolled through the lanes of Surrey on our way to the dress shop. Cecilia had convinced me to come out and get a new dress for the ball tomorrow night with her. Despite my protests, she and Harriet dragged me out of bed and helped slip by my father’s study and into town. 

I had to admit, I was thankful to be away from Whitewater. Walking into the dress shop with my sister on my arm felt freeing. Like I wasn’t about to be engaged to a man I had absolutely no interest in. 

Breathing in the smell of the wood and the fabrics put a smile on my face. Cecilia ran over to the rolls of blue fabric. I had missed coming to the seamstress with my older sister. In Dover Chan and Cecilia didn’t have enough money to get a new dress more than once or twice a year, so Cecilia was thrilled to come with me. 

“What color do you think you would like?” Cecilia shouted from over her shoulder, pulling out a dress with baby blue fabric and white lace. I shrugged and sorted through the different dresses. “I will wear anything but green. Minho would not stop talking about how I wore his favorite color at dinner.” Cecilia laughed as I brushed passed a light green ensemble without hesitation. 

“Why don’t we send you in black since it is going to be your funeral anyway,” Cecilia said throwing a black frock at me. I laughed and returned the dress to the seamstress. “Y/n, what about this?” She handed me a gorgeous red dress that was embroidered with pearls and gold thread. 

“I have not worn red since we were little girls. It’s absolutely gorgeous!” The seamstress helped us try on the dresses before we paid for them and changed back. Cecilia laughed as I recounted the conversation with Mr. Lee as we walked out of the shop. I felt uneasy. Like something was off. Looking around I saw several young men from the town walking about and standing near shops but they all seemed to be looking anywhere but me, which was very abnormal. 

“Do you think they heard about the engagement? It isn’t even official yet!” Cecilia said, reading my mind. An exasperated sigh left my chest. “Nor will it be. I will marry Lee Minho over my dead body.” 

“Oh, Miss Y/n!” a voice called out from across the street. 

Looking for the source of the deep voice I found Lee Felix, Colonel Han’s aide. And of course, next to him, was Colonel Han Jisung himself. My sister laughed as the Colonel and I both grimaced. Despite the second protests of the day, Cecilia dragged me over to greet the two soldiers. 

Han and Felix gave the two of us military level bows and Felix greeted us happily. “I see you two ladies are enjoying today’s fine weather.” Mr. Han said looking around at the scenery, his hands behind his back and his posture incredibly straight. “Yes, Y/n and I were out shopping for an ensemble for the ball tomorrow.” 

Felix’s grin grew three times larger. “I see that!” He said pointing to the folded dresses in our arms. “Oh Colonel, Miss Y/n picked out a red dress! What a coincidence!” Han spared me and the dress in my arms a glance before scoffing and looking at Felix. “What is a coincidence? Do tell,” I said, a smirk falling on my lips. “Jisung was just saying how gorgeous the red roses were at Ruxfield.” 

“Ow-” Cecilia nudged my stomach with an innocent grin on her sweet oval face. “Y/n just adores roses! She was sketching them in the garden, just the other day.” Cecilia’s blue eyes sparkled as she nudged me once again. What was she getting at? They were just flowers. 

The Colonel looked up at my words, his eyes slightly widening. He quickly recovered and trained his eyes on the ground. “Well, Felix and I have much to attend to. I am sure we shall meet again tomorrow night.” I rolled my eyes as Han mounted his horse, Felix following close behind. 

“Come, we must prepare for tomorrow night, given this new information!”

“Cecilia! What new information? Stop pulling on my arm!”

The carriage rumbled to a stop in front of the Hall. My father the girls and I were all in one cab, while Chan and Cecilia rode in a separate carriage. A footman opened the door and helped me down from the cab. He gently took each of my sisters’ hands as they exited as well. The music swelled as we entered the Hall with our father in front of us.

Emma quickly ran off to the table filled with sweets and hour devours, and Charlotte was towed away by her friends. “Miss L/n!” Turning, I saw Mr. Lee pushing his way through the crowd. Wonderful. The last person I wanted to see.  Like a leech, Mr. Lee latched himself onto my arm. “Are you quite good at dancing, Miss L/n? I fancy myself quite the dancer. They do all the latest court dances in London you see.”

“If you would excuse me, Mr. Lee, I am quite parched,” I said interrupting the never ending stream of words. “Yes, quite alright. I shall miss every second you are parted from me!” Minho said placing a kiss on my hand. Begrudgingly, I plastered a smile on my face and maneuvered my way through the crowd. 

Spotting my sister’s golden brown hair, I moved through the flood of people. Her beautiful baby blue dress stood out against the dark colored suits and dresses around her. She stood next to her husband and another man. “Cecilia, thank goodness.” I heaved out in a sigh. “My dear sister, you look ravishing! Don’t you think so, Mr. Han?” Turning I saw The Colonel dressed in fine navy blue. His eyes drunk me in with a disenchanted expression.

“She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humor at the present to give consequence to young ladies with such ‘modern’ attributes.” 

Only to uphold my social presence and reputation did I refrain from slapping him. How could he say something so ghastly right to my face. Before I could fire back Chan interrupted, questioning his friend. “Han, do you plan on joining in the festivities? I certainly plan on bringing my adoring Cecilia onto the dance floor tonight. There is absolutely nothing like dancing after all. It is one of the first refinements of a polished society.” He sighed, rolling his eyes and placing his hands behind his back in a seemingly military sense. 

“Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance.” “Not every savage-” Cecilia ventured. “I assure you, Mrs. Bang. Every savage can. Even damn Napoleon, so no I do not think I shall partake in the such an adolescent event.” 

The urge to shove his head up his ass grew stronger within me by the second, but I don’t think anything would be able to move past the gargantuan log shoved up there already. “Well, my dearest, would you accompany me onto the dance floor.” Chan said with a bright smile, offering a hand to his wife. Her lace gloved hand slid into his with a smile. Just as they were leaving a voice called out over the sea of guests. 

“Miss L/n! Where are you my love? Miss Y/n?” My eyes widened as I saw Minho’s head bobbing through the crowd. “Ah! Miss Y/n! There you are!” He said pointing in my direction. 

“Oh lord help me. Quick!” Without thinking I grabbed the nearest coat sleeve and pulled the man out onto the dance floor, a new dance beginning. “What in all hell?” He exclaimed, eyes turning to saucers. 

A sigh of relief left my lips as Minho walked right passed my previous location, still looking for me. Music swelled and the couples around me started dancing so I joined in with my partner. My heart skipped a beat when my eyes fell on Mr. Han standing in front of me, gently holding my hand and bowing. I curtsied to him and focused on looking for Mr. Lee in the crowd. Hopefully he wasn’t too close. Absentmindedly I followed the steps of the dance, my palm pressing lightly against the Colonel’s as we moved through the steps and turns of the dance. 

Halfway through the song, my eyes followed Mr. Lee as he searched for me into another room. This time a sigh of relief escaped as my focus turned back to the dance. I then became very aware of Mr. Han’s hand on my waist. “Mr. Han, I didn’t realize you could dance.” I jested a smirk playing on my lips. His face remained the same but there was something about his eyes that was different. 

“Miss L/n, I said any savage can dance. I am not excluded.” 

I was left without a retort. I simply stared at him as he circled and came behind me, one hand on my waist, the other gently holding my outstretched hand. The feeling of his chest against my shoulder  was unfamiliar but somehow inviting. He smelled like gun powder and old books. My eyes couldn’t seem to break away from his as we turned and moved with the music. 

The entire world seemed to dissolve away and all I could see was how he was looking at me. How he was holding me gently and cautiously, as if I was a butterfly in his palm. He had a softness in his eyes I had never seen before. The kind that showed a tortured past. Had he always been this handsome? 

Somehow I had never noticed the smooth lines of his face. The soft curve of his lips. The sharp angle of his jaw and the color of his warm tan skin from being in the sun on the battlefield. I had been completely oblivious. I was too stubborn to see the honorable man in front of me. I was even unkind to him on so many occasions yet he looked at me with such a hidden admiration. 

Our movements came to a stop and the Colonel stayed by my side, my hand still resting gently over his. I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from his stare. 

“Miss Y/n,” A voice called. Everyone was looking at me. Looking at us. Confusion and suggestion plastered on their faces. Suddenly the Colonel’s hands removed themselves he moved a good distance away from me. 

“Next time you would like to hide from your fiancee, use someone else as a shield. I would much rather not be involved in the manner.”

With a sharp, curt bow the Colonel excused himself and rushed off, disappearing into the bustling and whispering crowd. The gossip seemed to stop when Emma ran up to me, her big bright eyes sparkling. Leaving the moment between myself and Mr. Han behind, I danced with my sisters the rest of the night and did my best to fend off my soon to be fiancee. 

Hours later the evening drew to a close. Emma was already asleep and had returned to Whitewater with father a few hours earlier in our carriage. Charlotte and I walked out of the Hall our arms linked and laughing about Lady Moss’s hair piece. “Can you believe it?” Lottie laughed out of breath.

A yell from the street pulled our attention. “Your master stepped over the line!” A huge crowd had surrounded two very young men near the road. A fight had broke out between two footmen. I winced seeing a blow land on the smaller one’s face and another to his cut. My eyes widened when I caught a glimpse of his face. It was Felix. Colonel Han’s aide. 

“Lottie, go find Chan and Cecilia.” Nodding, she ran back into the hall to find our sister. I pushed my way through the crowd trying to see what was going on. Felix was doing his best to hold his ground against the other boy. It looked like Minho’s steward, Seungmin. “I have no control over what the Colonel does. You’re crazy!” Felix said blocking another swing. 

“Hey! Break it up! Stop this juvenile combat!” A voice boomed. Han himself pushed through the crowd and plowed through Seungmin, a hand clutching the collar of the boys shirt. “You do not touch him. If your quarrel is with me then face me so. Do not be a coward and go after my aide.” There was a fire in his eyes and Seungmin looked terrified. The power Han exuded would frighten any man. 

Seungmin, regaining his composure, threw a punch at the Colonel, landing on his jaw. While he seemed mostly unaffected, Seungmin took the opportunity to wriggle out of Jisung’s tight grasp. Han scoffed, and threw of his coat, rolling up his sleeves as well. “You will certainly regret doing that.” The crowd cheered as Han took a strike. His slim form allowed him to move with agility and strike with force. It was clear that Seungmin was done for. 

Another person burst through the crowd as Han threw Seungmin off of him. Minho caught his steward, pulling him up by the arm. He took Seungmin’s cheek in his hand and examined the boy’s beaten face, before handing him off to another footman. His glare then targeted the Colonel who stood out of breath and dark brown hair tousled. 

“How dare you assault my boy?” Minho screamed, pointing a finger at Mr. Han. “Do not jump to assumptions, my friend. Your boy att-” “First you try to seduce my fiancee in front of the entire town- then you assault my aide!” Han let out a breathy laugh before pointing at himself. “Me? You think I would ever be interested in the a woman such as Miss L/n?” His finger moved to point at me, but my glare in his direction was ignored. 

“Your man attacked mine first! It is you who needs to apologize! I will not have my staff humiliated and beaten by scum like you or your servants.” Han said beginning to get an almost erratic look in his eyes. “That’s it,” Minho said throwing his coat onto the ground. Without hesitation he leaped into the fight. The crowd cheered them on as I watched in horror.

“Stop! Stop this right now!” I screamed, but no one listened. Mr. Lee’s fist connected with Han’s temple, making his eyes go dark for a moment, before returning. Mr. Lee took the opportunity to throw Han over his shoulder and onto the ground before my feet. 

“Mr. Lee, stop right this instant! Both of you! There is no use fighting over me! this is complete nonsense.” Mr. Han’s eyes rolled over to me as he sat up. He winced as he moved to stand up. It took all of my power not to break his stare. 

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn about you.”

Why did his words wound me? The hurt must have shown on my face for a brief moment because once again his eyes softened. Before he could say something Mr. Lee took a cheap shot, his fist flying across Han’s cheek. My eyes did not fail to miss the drops of blood that landed on the dirt. Han wasted no time in fighting back. 

“ENOUGH!” I screamed. Reputation be damned. I was finished. I had enough. Storming up, with all my strength I pushed the men apart. The two seemed insistent on continuing the brawl. The only thing stopping the Colonel from destroying Mr. Lee was my hands pushing against his shoulders. “You know nothing about me!” My loathsome future fiancee shouted.

“You are only trying to buy her from her father; like she is some prize!” Han sneered. “She is not some timepiece or your stupid pet!” Hearing a yell from Mr. Lee I turned to stop him only to feel a strike against my head. My vision started to blur and my head started to spin before I felt myself fall to the ground. 

Every person froze. Mr. Lee and the Colonel watched in horror as I collapsed to the ground barely conscious. Not a second later Chan burst through the crowd with Cecilia in tow, breaking up the fight. She gasped seeing my body on the ground. Quickly she rushed to my side and cradled my head in her lap. 

“Quick! Someone help!” Felix, still recovering from his beating, rushed over without hesitating. With some struggle, he got my partially limp body in his arms as Cecilia led him to where our carriage should have been. Han seemed to snap out of his shock, and he rushed to Felix’s side. “Mr. L/n took their carriage. Felix, we’ll go in ours.” Nodding, Felix turned and rushed to the Colonel’s cab and gently placed me on the seat. Cecilia placed my head in her lap as Han jumped into the cab with us, worry painted all over his face. 

Felix jumped up into the coach’s seat. Han pounded on the carriage wall and screamed for Felix to go. “Felix, hurry! To Whitewater. Take the back road it’s  faster!”  Han prayed that they could return to my estate fast enough to call a doctor. When the carriage pulled to a stop, the Colonel took me from Cecilia’s lap and held me in his arms, letting my head roll onto his chest. 

“Into the house! Carson! Carson, call the physician!”

Mr. Han carried me up the steps of the porch and impatiently yelled at Felix to hold the door. The poor boy rushed up and let Han carry me through the doorway. Han cautiously handed my semi-conscious body over to Carson. His brow furrowed, concern flooding his features as he watched my loving staff rush to my aid. Carson placed me gently on a sofa  and Cecilia carefully undid the tight curls in my hair so my head had somewhat less pain. 

 Han could do nothing but stand off to the side watching in distress. “Miss Bang...please let me offer my assistance-”

“You have done enough,”

Cecilia did not mean her words to come out as harsh as they did. He knew that. He scolded himself at his thoughts. ‘If only Y/n had not gotten in the way.’ ‘Lee Minho will pay for what he has done.’ A touch on his shoulder brought him back to reality. Turning he saw Felix, a frown on his face. “Sir, we should return to Ruxfield. I will be sure to inquire of Miss L/n’s health in the morning.” Almost as if he was giving him no choice, Felix guided the Colonel back to his carriage and the two departed. 

The next morning I awoke to find both Cecilia and Harriet sleeping beside me. Harriet even in her sleep was still holding cloth wrapped ice to my forehead. Sensing my movement, Harriet woke up and asked millions of questions about how I was feeling. 

Cecilia then woke up not long after. She recounted what happened  after the fight and then left to let me change for the day. The next week went by with no word from the Colonel. Felix came by the first morning to give his apologies at the Colonel’s request. Sadly, Mr. Lee visited almost daily. I had taken to sketching in the book gifted to me by my sister, hoping this would come as a distraction from remembering certain interactions from that night. 

The afternoon was perfect. A light rain had come in the morning, leaving droplets on the the flowers in the garden. Now the sun was out and shining, as I sat on a bench outside with my sketchbook amongst the flowers. “My lady you have a visitor.” Carson said from the stone walkway. The garden had somewhat of a keyhole stone path, with a fountain and stone circle at the center. Mr.Carson stood near the fountain. Through the water you could see the outline of a man’s over coat. “If it is Mr. Lee send him away. I am in no mood to entertain him today.”

“Mr. Lee is not the one asking for visitation,” A smooth deep voice spoke as its owner moved from behind the fountain. 

Colonel Han stood a little in front of Carson, looking at you with a serious expression. The same he wore every day of his entire life, except it his eyes. His eyes once again held that softness, as if it was a sight only you could bring out of him. “I’d have to jump off a bridge if I was that cat loving bigot.”  A hint of a smile slid onto his lips. 

He was correct. Mr. Han was nothing like Mr. Lee. Han was rough. He had edges. He never primped himself like Mr.Lee did. I couldn’t help but drink him in. His dark hair was shaggy and he only wore a simple shirt and the old navy overcoat he seemingly never took off. His boots were dirty and scuffed, but well taken care of. A sign of his daring acts but military discipline. A blush came over my cheeks as I remembered the feeling of dancing with him, his chest against my back.

“Jis- Colonel... to what do I owe the pleasure.” I closed my sketchbook and placed it beside me on the stone bench. “Papa is in London, but he should return by nightfall.” In all of my life I had never been nervous in front of a man other than my father. I believed a woman should be a strong and elegant vision, not simply standing behind a man but beside him if at all. So why could I not meet Mr. Han’s eyes. 

“I’m not here to see your father. I’m here to see you.”

My eyes widened at his words. Nothing was different about him. He still stood straight with his arms behind his back, keeping a respectable distance form me. His face remained stoic as if he was reading from a war plan. “Thank you, Carson. You may leave us,” 

It was Han’s turn to be flustered upon hearing my words. Being the respectful man he was he always adhered to the social protocol of a woman and man never being alone unless with a chaperone. Carson raised his brow in question, but complied, entering the house.

A moment of awkward silence followed. Then another. And another. It was almost like Mr. Han had lost the ability to function after being alone with me. Nervously, I played with the fabric of my dress. What could he possibly want to discuss with me. We have hardly had a pleasant conversation in our entire lives. “Miss Ln-” His words halted when I looked up at him. His eyes went immediately to my face. I knew exactly what he was looking at. The bruise from that night. It was lighter now, having had a week to heal, but still visible.

“Oh Y/n...” He reached out as if to touch my face, but thought better of it and pulled back. There was no longer a wide expanse between us. He now stood only a few feet away from where I sat.  “We are not even wed, and yet I have already forsaken you and broken a valiant code...” He muttered under an aggravated sigh.

He was grateful that I didn’t hear it. “If you are indeed here for me, please enlighten me of your purpose for I am in the dark.” I said pushing a strand of loose hair around my face. As he opened his mouth to speak a deep voice called his name. 

“Colonel Han!”

Felix came running out of Whitewater. He was out of breath and his hair and clothes were out of place, like he had just gotten off his horse. He handed on a sealed envelope and whispered something in Mr. Han’s ear.  Immediately, Han opened the letter with his long nimble fingers. His eyes quickly scanned the letter, leaving me in anxious silence. 

“What is it?” I asked on the edge of my seat. Han handed the letter back to Felix and whispered something back to him. Felix spared me a glance before leaving us alone. 

The Colonel raked a hand through his already slightly disheveled hair and turned his back to me. Something was compelling me to reach out to him. “Jisung,” He turned at the sound of his name. My mind had yet to register the fact this was the first time I had actually said his name. He on the other hand, did notice.

“What is the matter?” He sighed and looked back at the house. Felix was standing by the door, discussing something with Carson. “Napoleon has resumed his advances on the border.” It took me a moment for me to process the information. This was news that was not for me to hear. “Why-”

“They are calling me to the front line.”

I couldn’t speak.

“Felix gave me my orders just now. I leave in the morning.”

This meant so many things. This meant our country was once again at war with France. It meant Father would have to stay in London. It meant Mr. Han would be sent to the heat of the battle commanding easily a thousand men in combat. It meant Jisung...was being sent into battle that he might not come back from.

Why did I even care? I was in line to be engaged. Granted it was to a spinless snob I practically loathed. “I may be a bitter married woman when you returned. Then our arguments will be that much more interesting.” Another look flashed across his face. Almost like he was disappointed that was what I had chosen to say. Like he had wished I had asked him to stay.

“Let’s hope for the both of us that is not true when I return.”

Before I could understand his words Felix returned, this time with Carson behind him. He came to Mr. Han’s side and urgently whispered something in his ear. Han nodded and brushed him off before turning back to me, his eyes growing soft. Gently, he took my hand. All I could do was watch as he brought it up to his lips and softly kissed my knuckles. 

It was an action I had experienced many times from many men. All seeking for my hand in marriage. But this. This was different. This felt intimate. Like the kiss was burning itself into my skin as if to mark me for life. His eyes joined mine as he pulled away. 

“Colonel, we have to go.” Felix said breaking the silence. Han slid his hand from mine and he turned to follow Felix back to Ruxfield to prepare for is departure. My body could do nothing but watch him leave.

“You’re all grown up now, Miss Y/n.” Carson said. He had the kindest smile on his face as he came to sit on the bench, pulling me down with him. “What do you mean, Carson?” He sighed, taking my hand in his. Carson was nothing like my father. He and my mother were very close and Mr. Carson always seemed like a real father figure in my life. He was the one who taught me to dance, and what books I should read, and even how to play poker. 

“You are falling in love. I would know that look anywhere.” Love? With the Colonel. Impossible. I despised him. Right? “I am not in love. If I was in love I would be getting married.” He chuckled and patted my hand. “Aren’t you though?”

“Carson, do you see me voluntarily marrying that mess of a man?”

“Are you speaking of Lord Lee or Colonel Han?”

Blinking, the thought crossed my mind. Of course I was talking about Mr. Lee right. I was set to marry him. Was Carson saying I should marry Mr. Han? Marrying Colonel Han Jisung. The thought had never crossed my mind. Now that it did, why did my heart swell.

“Of course I’m speaking of Mr. Lee. Father would forbid anyone else.” Carson nodded, looking over the garden. “So, are you saying there is someone else?” He took my silence as an answer, smiling. 

“An unhappy alternative is before you, Y/n. From this day you must be a stranger to one of us. Your father will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Lee, and I would never see you again if you do.” 

A warm, fatherly smile filled his eyes. “Do you love him?” There was no question of who he was talking about. “While I have lost my heart, I shall not lose my self control. I will not become one of those silly girls running around with their heads in the clouds controlled by love.” Carson laughed and picked a flower near the bench.

“Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way.” 

Before I could respond I was interrupted by what seemed like the fourth time today. “Y/’n! Y/n!” Cecilia ran out of the house a grin from ear to ear. Emma and Charlotte followed hot on her heels. Her light blue dress blew behind her as she ran over to us. “Y/n, I’m pregnant!” After blinking a few times I wrapped her up in a hug and cheered. Carson joined us and we all went inside to celebrate Cecilia’s news, leaving the conclusion of my conversation with Carson in the back of my mind.

Spring came and went. Soon came the long months of summer and with it came heavy summer storms. The Whitewater creek was filled to capacity and quite dangerous. Father had come home from London and the tensions had been high ever since he returned. Papa seemed hell bent on my marriage to Mr. Lee. 

Every chance he got he brought up the engagement. I was starting to think Carson may have been right. Every mention of Mr.Lee drove me further away from him and made me wonder about another man...far away. 

Another man who didn’t write. Not once. I found myself jumping to the door when Carson delivered our mail to our rooms. Weeks passed and still I heard no word from him. Weeks turned into months until it became the middle of summer. Still no word from the Colonel. Not even to my father about the war. I was beginning to worry something had happened. Certainly he wouldn’t forget about me after a goodbye like that? Why did I even care? I hated the man. Yes, I hated the man. I had all the right to hate him if he wasn’t going to send me even one letter. 

Another summer storm raged outside my window. “Miss you will have to leave your room sometime.” Harriet said, hanging up some of my laundry. “If Cecilia will not leave her room then I too shall not.” Harriet laughed as I watched the water pelt against the glass. “Miss Y/n, your sister is ordered by the doctor to bed rest. Chan is taking care of her. You are simply sulking over your engagement.” 

“I am not sulking over my engagement.”

“Then a certain Colonel perhaps? Maybe the lack of a letter?” 

Before I could correct my friend, Carson knocked on the door and entered. “My lady, your father wishes to speak to you in his study.” I sighed, turning back to the window. “Carson, I am in no mood to speak to Papa.” Harsh winds blew the trees in the forest just outside the estate. “My lady, he is leaving for London in an hour. He is insistent on speaking to you.”

Carson gave me a small smile. He was probably right. It was better to simply speak to him before he left than ignore him until he returned home. With a sigh, I got up from my window seat. Harriet straightened my dress and adjusted the loose but proper style she had done to my hair this morning. I knew exactly what awaited me behind the heavy wooden doors. My knuckles softly wrapped against the oak. 

“Enter,” 

The gruff voice of my father echoed as I opened the door. He sat at his desk writing a letter or some other important document. “Papa, you wanted to talk to me?” I said standing near one of the many bookshelves in his study. “Yes, about your marriage.” 

“Papa. I already told you I will not marry Mr. Lee-”

“The date has been set. You will marry Lee Minho in one month’s time.”

My jaw dropped in disbelief. “Father!” He didn’t even look up from his work. “Do not ‘Father’ me. You knew this was going to happen. You will marry Mr. Lee. You will do as your told. It is your duty as a woman of this household.” What? My what?

“My duty as woman?” 

“Yes.”

“Father, I have no duty as woman. Especially to you. I will not marry a man who I do not love. It is not my duty to obey your every command!” This was when he chose to look at me. His eyes turned cold. “Y/n L/n. You are my daughter. You will do as I say!” Rage filled every inch of my body. “No! I will control my own life! I will not marry him and that is final! Times are changing. It is time you changed with them, Father!” The sound of his chair screeching against the wood floor made me flinch. “We are a family of tradition! I will not let your silly misguided modern values change our family!”

His voice boomed loud enough for the entire estate to hear. “What would mother think of this! She would never-” “DO NOT BRING YOUR MOTHER INTO THIS!” A book  flew across the room. Never the less I stood  my ground, staring straight back at him even though tears threatened to spill over my eyes. 

“I wouldn’t have to if you would just be-” 

“If you are going to continue this kind of behavior then I want you out of Whitewater until you come to your senses!” 

A silence followed; the kind that hurt. The kind you could feel- like needles plunging into your skin. Rain continued to fall on the roof and windows like bullets. 

“So be it.” 

With word I stormed out of the study and towards the door. Shouts from the staff could be heard behind me as I burst through the doors and out into the rain. “My lady! Y/n!” Carson called. My feet carried me to the stables. Grabbing a saddle and mounting the closest horse I rode out into the storm.

Finally able to let tears flow away from any eyes, I screamed. Never had I felt so much agony. My own father was shunning me. The man I admired had abandoned me and was sent to war. The man I despised was forcing me into marriage. My skin burned as harsh rain pelted against it. The wind blew through my hair pulling it loose.

Even through all this pain it felt...freeing. It felt amazing to run through the forest outside of Whitewater, thunder rolling in the air and rain showering down. My heart still wretched in pain. I missed my family, despite our arguments. Most of all I missed Mr. Han, despite our many many differences.

A loud crack boomed through the sky and a flash of white burst in front of my horse. I screamed as the horse  reared, throwing me off its back onto the forest floor. I felt a pain against the back of my head upon impact. The horse sprinted away in fear leaving me stranded. 

“Help!” I screamed into the dark. My legs struggled to hold themselves up and my vision started to become blurry. It became indecipherable what was rain or tears on my cheeks.

The world started to spin as I walked forward. I must have been ‘walking’ for hours. The cold had started to set in and the rain showed no sign of stopping. By now I was miles away from Whitewater and the closest estate was fifteen miles east.

“Help me...” 

My dress was getting heavier and heavier despite the fabric being so light before. It clung to my skin and my hair hung in dark wet strands in front of my face.  Over the thundering storm I thought I heard hoof beats through the forest. I must have been hallucinating. Not being able to hold myself up anymore, I leaned against a tree.

“Y/n?” 

Definitely hallucinating. I was even hearing his voice now. How did I remember what his voice sounded like? Exhaustion started to set in, the pain and cold making my eyes droop and my body feel even heavier. 

“Y/n? Y/n, where are you?” 

Through my blurry vision I thought I saw the outline of a horse and rider wearing a dark navy coat. “Y/n!” My strength was wearing thin. Taking a chance, that it wasn’t my imagination I pushed myself off the tree and stumbled forward. “Oh god! Y/n stay where you are I’m coming!”

Hooves pounded against the ground growing closer. My head started ti spin even more as the rider jumped off his horse and rushed to me. Before I could fall, I was taken in a pair of strong arms. The edges of my vision started to blackout, my hearing came in and out, and my body shivered trying to keep itself warm. The person clutched me to their chest and pushed the wet pieces of hair away from my face, desperation in their deep voice. “Miss L/n? Y/n, can you hear me? I’ve got you now. I’m here.”

My throat felt dry. “The Colonel...he-he didn’t write to me. I’m...I’m still waiting for his letter. I can’t leave...” The rider sighed and I tried to make out his face. “Do you know Colonel Han? He told me not to get married...so I didn’t...” The words came out in slurs but they came out nonetheless. The rider clutched my head to their chest gently. 

“I know, darling, I’m sorry.” He gently laid me on the forest floor and took off his coat wrapping it around me. “I couldn’t even though I wanted to.” Gently he picked me up as if I weighed nothing and moved over to the horse. Through my haze I heard him curse. Even in my state I knew there was no way he could get myself and him on the horse safely. 

“Stay with me, darling.” I tried to focus on the rider’s words as he tried to figure out how to get me to safety. The exhaustion won out, leaving me in the darkness. 

Colonel Han kept his head. He couldn’t panic. Not even when he saw her eyes close shut. “Damn.” His dark hair clung to his forehead as he searched for a solution. She wouldn’t last much longer. Her body was already freezing in his arms. 

His horse was too high to lift her up and Ruxfield was too far to walk. Why was she outside of Whitewater in the first place? In a storm? Whitewater. Whitewater was no more than five miles away. He could make it there. Forgetting about his exhaustion from the ride back from the front line, Jisung adjusted the woman in his arms, resting her head against his chest and his arms under her legs, he began walking all the way back to Whitewater. 

His arms and legs burned as he climbed over the last hill. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw Whitewater in the distance through the rain. “We are almost there, darling. Hold on for me.” He just had to hold on long enough to reach Whitewater. To see Y/n was alright.

With his last burst of energy, Jisung burst through the front doors of Whitewater. “HELP! I need a physician! Someone help!” Several staff including Carson rushed up to him, seeing Y/n in his arms. “Quickly, upstairs!” he said, making a path for Jisung. She shivered in his arms as he carried her down the hall and up the stairs. 

“Harriet call the physician! Tell him it’s an emergency!” A girl he had scene with Y/n before nodded and rushed to call a doctor. “Y/n! Where is she! Y/n!” Cecilia called rushing to the Colonel. “Cecilia, love, move!” Chan said wrapping the woman in his arms. “Where is Father? He should be here!” She said as they moved passed her. “Your father left for London.” Carson said. 

Carson rushed to push open the door to the girl’s bedroom. The Colonel gently placed the girl on her bed and let the staff rush around the room to help her. All he could do was watch as the only woman he had thought about for the past four months lay helpless on her bed, shivering. 

A pair of strong hands pushed him softly out of the room and into the hall. He looked up to find Chan. “Han, you are freezing.” “I am fine,” He tried to get a look back into the room, but a maid closed the door. “You need to rest. You just returned on leave.” 

“Chan I will be fine!” 

Reluctantly, the man left Jisung alone in the hall. He watched as people walked in and out of the room, rushing with towels, blankets, wet clothes, new clothes, even hot kettles. Soon a physician arrived and entered her room. It felt like hours that Jisung had waited outside her door. Finally the girl, Harriet, walked out. She jumped when he grabbed her arm.

“Give me an occupation miss-or I shall go mad.”

Taking in the man’s tired state she handed him a towel. “The doctor says Ms. L/n hit her head and has a serious case of hypothermia.” She watched as Mr. Han sighed and ran a hand through his wet shaggy hair. “Please let me do something. Anything.” All she could offer was the smallest smile. 

“You’ve done all you can possibly do. Thank you for saving my mistress.” 

With a sorrowful nod he watched as she walked away. “We would be happy to set up a room for you, sir. We would be happy to keep you updated on how the lady is doing.” He gave Harriet a kind smile. “That would be very generous, Miss. I’ll only be staying for the two nights, if that is alright. I have orders to return to the line.” With a nod, Harriet went to prepare a room for the Colonel.

During those two days, Mr. Han never left her side. He stayed by her bedside helping Harriet and Cecilia with anything they asked. One the morning of his departure he gave Cecilia the name of his personal carrier. “If there is any change please let me know. The letter will go directly to me.” She nodded and took the piece of parchment watching the Colonel leave once again.

Sunlight streamed through my window. My head pounded and my body still felt cold.  Slowly I slipped out of my bed, feet placing themselves slowly on the cool wood floor. “You are awake!” Cecilia screamed. Rushing over she practically tackled me back onto my bed. “Cecilia, the baby!” “Oh I don’t care you are okay! Thank heavens you are okay!” 

I couldn’t help but smile as she hugged me. “Chan will kill you if you hurt his child before it’s even born.” “Shhhhhhhh! Not now. My sister has returned from the dead.” Laughing she hugged me even harder. 

“Oh! I almost forgot.” She pulled away and rushed to my dresser. When she returned she had a letter in her hands. “This came for you yesterday. You have been asleep for almost a week. You needed quite a lot of rest. I don’t blame you.” She handed me the envelope with a small smile. “Wait, where are you going?” I asked as she started to leave my room. “I think I should leave you alone with that.” Something about her smile made me laugh.

My shaking hands opened the letter with my name addressed on it in rough but elegant handwriting. When I opened it the familiar smell of gunpowder and old parchment reached my nose. The same handwriting greeted me as I read the letter.

“Miss Ln,

I have written this letter many times, but have been a coward to not send it. I had hoped I would be home to say this-but it seems Napoleon has different plans than I. 

Miss L/n, I would like to apologize from the bottom of my heart. There were a thousand times I wanted to write to you, but events on the front line prevented me. I would like to apologize for not getting to you sooner that day. I wish I had been there soon for you, my darling. 

I pray that by the time you get this letter you are not yet married to that insolent pitiful disgrace of a man. Though the timing may be off I have something to ask of you. Something to confess...

Miss L/n you have bewitched me- body and soul. To what time I fell so deeply under your spell, I cannot recall. I know not the hour or the spot or the words or even the look that lay the foundation. I was in the middle before I even began. What a proud fool I was. To think my stubbornness was the only thing keeping me from you.  In vain I have struggled, but it will not do. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and...love you.

It seems as if the only thing keeping me alive in this battle is the image of you smile. I would die a thousand deaths for that smile.

I have heard your father’s news of your wedding. I beg of you. Do not follow through. I hope that perhaps there is something I can offer. Miss L/n...should I return, I would like to humbly request for your hand. I know I have no right to you, nor should any man. You are the most strong woman I have ever had the pleasure and fortune of meeting, and to me it makes you the most beautiful woman to walk this earth. 

I hope to hear from you soon, my darling. Until then, I shall be fighting for the day that I do. I long for the day I am home. 

In hope,

Han Jisung”

I sat in disbelief. Colonel Han Jisung had written me a letter professing his love. He proposed... Leaving the letter on my  bed I walked to the window. The audacity. To ask me over a letter? A knock sounded at the door pausing my pacing. “Enter,” Harriet paused when she saw the look on my face. “Miss, what’s the matter.”

“Harry, I believe I have a serious decision to make.” 

 Months passed. Summer turning into mid fall. Father’s supposed wedding date for me had long passed. Each time Mr. Lee had visited Carson had turned him away. More letters from the Colonel had arrived, but they all said the same thing and soon they came to a stop. Cecilia had given birth not to long ago, to a beautiful baby boy. Chan and my sister had named the child Benjamin. 

News came that the war ended, England victorious. Soon I would be expecting a visitor. I sat in the garden with my sketchbook, drawing the few flowers that were left in the beds among other things. A certain face had popped up in the pages of my book several times. “Miss Y/n,” I looked up to see Carson walking down the pathway. 

“You have a visitor.”

A smirk fell across my lips. “Well, I believe I have been expecting him so let us not keep him waiting any longer.” With a smile, Carson returned into the house to fetch my guest. Patiently, I waited for the guest to come out and see me. I heard the sound of boots against the stone pathway and smiled.

“Good afternoon, Colonel.”

“Yes, indeed, Miss L/n.”

There was a nervous expression on his face. Once again he looked like he had just returned from active duty. His dark hair had grown a little longer and he wore the same navy overcoat again. His shirt underneath was covered in black powder and some of the buttons were undone to reveal his tan and slightly toned chest. Yes, definitely just returned. Returned with no time to change apparently. 

Quickly I brought my attention back to my sketchbook in hopes that it would hide the heat spreading on my cheeks. “Did...you receive my letters?” Self control regained, I turned my attention back to Mr. Han. “Why yes, Colonel Han, I did in fact receive several letters.”

“And you are not married...”

��No, I am not.”

The man stood perfectly still in military fashion, his hands clasped behind his back. “Well are you going to speak? You certainly did not come to Whitewater just to stare at me did you?” Shock crossed Han’s face. It was evident he had not expected me to speak to him like this. It was fun to see the stoic Colonel flustered. 

“I came to ask you response. You never wrote back to me.” I shrugged, getting off the bench. “Response? I don’t remember ever being properly asked a question.” He sighed running a hand through his hair, a habit that I had missed while he was away. “I do recall asking-” “No, Colonel Han. You requested. You, sir, never asked me anything. So why should I dignify you with a response.” 

Maybe it was the smile, or the slight twinkle in my eye, but he laughed. A sound that I had never heard from the man. It made me want to memorize every sound and feature of his face when he laughed. “Then, should I ask you properly, Miss L/n?” It was a genuine question, not of simple jest. “There is no harm in questions.” He took a deep breath and looked me in the eyes. 

“Miss L/n, will you please allow me the great honor of making you my wife?”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

His eyes widened at my quick response. “I’m sorry Colonel, but I cannot promise to be any man’s wife who sits prettily in a corner and who is expected to obey every word he says. I won’t be expected to just sit around waiting for you-...him- to come home.” 

“Wherever you are is my home; my only home.”

There was sincerity in his eyes. Love. “Mr. Han,” He sighed taking my hands in his. Though his touch was still unfamiliar, it felt sure and safe. “Miss L/n, please let me speak.” He practically begged. I waited silent for him to continue.

“I am half in hope and half in agony. If your feelings are still what I assumed they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged but one word from you will silence me on the subject forever.” He searched my eyes for an answer. 

“Miss L/n, I am in love with you more than you will ever know. I want nothing more than to be with you. To wake up to every morning- to fall asleep next to you every night. To stand next to me, not behind me. I am in love with your wit, and your charm, and how you always keep me on my toes more than any battle ever has. I am in love with your modern values and your spontaneity.” Han’s hands were rough against mine, his slender fingers ghosting over my skin.

“Y/n...Will you marry me, and do me the honor of letting me be your husband?”

Han’s dark eyes looked into mine- indeed half in agony and half in hope. He looked at me as if everything in the world that mattered to him was standing in front of him. The look in his eyes couldn’t help but make me smile. I was in love with Colonel Han Jisung and it couldn’t be helped.

“Yes,”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” He asked. “Of course.” He smiled and looked down at his hands still gently holding mine. “May I?” He asked softly, glancing between my eyes and my lips. It only took a small nod for him to act, pressing his lips softly onto mine. My head begin to feel dizzy in the best way. His fingers traveled up the bare skin of my arms and then down to rest on my waist, bringing me closer. Han smiled as my hands pressed against his chest, kissing him back. 

“I love you, Jisung. With all my heart.”

“It took you long enough to say it, my darling.”

El Fin

Requests are open my lovelies!

Masterlist

[flawedheroines]

I wanna give a shoutout to those who made 2020 better for me.

@experincingtheworld - My sister and my love! We just connect and I absolutely adore you! So special and so amazing! Literal angel! You have so much talent and so much kindness! Love you!

@mia-song - Someone who is so special to me. I don’t know where I’d be without you. Our rps make me beyond happy we just mesh well. You’re always down to do threads with me and you always listen to my ideas. Literally, you mean the universe to me and I love you so much.

@xchxsingcxrsx - I am so glad we connected and we have such great threads! You’re a wonderful person and I am grateful to know you!

@iiingenious - Such a great person! Our threads are so much fun and I cannot wait to do more with you! You induldge me in my Padmé muse and I love it!

@multi-muse-transect - You are beyond talented. The way you’ve built this such detailed world around your muse. You are literally so amazing and rping with you is such a fun time!

@timidstrcngth - You are an absolute angel and I cannot believe you wanna rp with me. You’re such a talent and so kind. Talking with you is always a pleasure!

@multimuse-rp - The threads we have are super fun and I love interacting with you! You are such a kind person and I cannot wait to continue our threads and do more!

@vaderiisms - I legit love you. You’re an amazing rper and such a kind soul! I gotta catch up on our threads because I miss them! You keep my Anidala heart alive!

@hndmaidn - Our threads are so much fun! I love your Sabé and I love exploring their relationship with you! You are so talented and I am grateful to rp with you!

@justicescreaming - You’re so awesome! I love rping with you and I love how supportive you are! Our threads make me so happy and you are just such a sweet person!

@moreprofoundbonds - You’re my Pattycakes. You mean a lot to me and I’m happy to be able to call you a friend! Still amazed you wanna be friends with me. You’re so talented and so sweet. I larb you!

@alderhope - I love rping with you! You were willing to talk and rp with me when I was feeling down. That is something I won’t forget and I am thankful for. Thank you! You’re so sweet!

@nctxrejects - You and I have gotten so close! I love talking and rping with you! We mainly do it all on Discord which is fun! You mean a lot to me and I love you!

@maddmuses - I really love interacting with you! You are such a great person with so much talent! I gotta stay on top of our threads because I don’t wanna miss out on replying!

@paeneopy - My baby. My sweet angel. Such a kind soul who is a treasure. You and I have been rping for a while and I have always loved it. Having you to rp with is a gift, one I am so thankful for!

@stayingtxgether - The talent you hold is just incredible. Your blog is fantastic and I love your muses! Thank you for interacting with me and I cannot wait to continue our threads!

@invisiblexcharms - I love you so much. You have been such a kind person ever since we started talking. I am so thankful to have met you and got to interact with you! I hope to do so much more with you and your muses!

@hearteateremma - I love your Emma so much! Being able to interact with you has been so fun! I get to explore Dark SwanQueen which makes me super happy! You’re so sweet and amazing!

If I didn’t have you on this list, it does not mean I don’t like you or anything. I’m a bit scattered so things slip through the cracks. If you’d like me to write a little blerb about you, send me an ask and I will!

Have a Happy New Year!

[wistfulcynic]

Their Way By Moonlight: Broken (Chapter 16)

In which the chapter title says it all, really. 

For @thisonesatellite​​ and @ohmightydevviepuu​​ and @katie-dub​​, YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID 😘😘😘 (and shoutout to @winterbythesea​​ for filling the gaping holes in my video game knowledge) 

SUMMARY: A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time Emma is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from Henry and anyone else who might  help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Killian have the ability to share their dreams, and are working together in secret to find a way to break the curse and free everyone from a new and dangerous foe.

Rating: M

AO3

- 

Broken: 

All her life Emma had loved to sleep, but she wasn’t the biggest fan of naps. Sleep, to her, involved putting on comfy, loose clothing, making the room as dark as possible, burrowing into her pillows and blankets and letting oblivion wrap her in its soothing embrace for at least eight hours, preferably more. Obviously, those perfect conditions didn’t happen often, but still a girl could dream. 

Naps, she felt, were like fast food sleep. They met her most immediate needs but left her feeling heavy and groggy and a bit gross. Exactly the way she was feeling now. She peeled one sticky eyelid open and groped for her phone, groaning when she saw the time. Ten past six. She’d slept for over two hours, and Neal would be here in less than one. Rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands, she tried to force her foggy mind to focus. 

A burst of triumphant laughter sounded from the living room, followed by a dramatic groan. 

“Right, you’ll pay for that,” snarled Killian’s voice. 

“Oh yeah?” Henry crowed in reply, “Who’s gonna make me?” 

Emma heaved herself up out of bed and went to the curtain that separated her and Killian’s bedroom area from the main part of the apartment. She peeked around it and grinned at the sight that met her eye. Henry and Killian were on the sofa, controllers in hand, playing what was apparently a very hotly contested game of Battlefront II. 

She thought back to when Killian had first begun attempting to play video games with Henry in New York, hampered by his missing hand and his general bafflement as to why anyone would want to sit for hours in front of a flickering screen, shooting imaginary bolts of light at each other. He seemed to have gotten over that in the past year, she thought, and now with his modern prosthetic he was able to manage the controller and navigate the game deftly enough that Emma had a sneaking suspicion he might be letting Henry win. 

Although, she thought, as Henry racked up another kill, pumping his fist as his character respawned into Han Solo and Killian’s eyebrows snapped together indignantly, maybe not.

She pushed aside the curtain and went to sit on the arm of the sofa next to Killian, who flashed her a brief smile before returning his attention to evading Henry’s digital assault on him. 

“Hey, guys,” she said, unable to resist letting her fingers sift through Killian’s hair. She still found it difficult to go too long without touching him. “Who’s winning?” 

“The lad has a temporary advantage,” Killian replied grudgingly. 

“Temporary my ass.” 

“Language,” Killian rebuked, and Henry snorted. 

“That’s rich coming from Mister oh bloody hell,” he retorted. 

“Perhaps, but when you swear in front of your mothers I get the blame.” 

Emma chuckled and Killian paused the game, looking up at her with the soft, adoring smile that never failed to make her weak. “How are you feeling, love?” he asked. “Rested?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” She shrugged. “Kinda groggy. Do you think I have time for a shower before Neal gets here?” 

“Aye, a quick one.”

“And you don’t need me to help with anything?” Emma looked around the apartment. It was as neat and tidy as ever, the way Killian always kept things.  

“No, everything’s prepared for dinner, it just needs cooking. Go have your shower, then Henry and I should probably freshen up too.” 

“What? I’m fresh!” 

“Your mouth is, perhaps,” said Killian, quick as a flash. “But as this is meant to be a nice meal, please indulge me by putting on a shirt that isn’t covered in dog hair.” 

“Ugh, fine.” Henry rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. Neither could Emma.

“What about that nice grey one I got you?” she suggested. 

“Mom, I outgrew that like six months ago.” 

“Oh.” The little flare of loss and regret was familiar now, but no less sharp. “Okay.” 

Killian squeezed her knee sympathetically. “It has been replaced by another nice grey one, however,” he said. “Which I happen to know is clean and ironed and hanging in your room. Wear that.” 

“Fine,” sighed Henry. “Can I finish kicking your arse at Battlefront first, though?” 

“You can try,” said Killian.

~

They were making dinner together. 

Mary Margaret knew it was happening, she was here, she was experiencing it. She could smell the rich aroma and hear the sizzle of frying onions, could hear the rhythmic sound of knives on a chopping board as she and David sliced mushrooms and minced carrots. Hell, she was the one doing the mincing. But she still couldn’t quite believe it. 

It had been David’s idea. When they finished their lunch at Granny’s that afternoon he’d walked with her back to her office, as slowly as they could get away with, then lingered even longer by the door. 

“This was fun,” he said. “I had fun. Did you?” 

The thread of uncertainty in the question squeezed Mary Margaret’s heart and set her mind racing. What if—she could barely entertain the thought—what if David felt as she did? What if he wanted the same things? What if he was just as unsure of her as she was of him? 

What if—this was the scariest what if of all—what if she actually told him what she wanted? That’t she’d like to give their marriage a real shot?  

What would happen then? 

“I did,” she replied, slightly breathlessly. “A lot of fun.” 

David’s smile widened. “We should do it again.” 

“We should,” she agreed, as her heart raced faster.  

“Like tonight.” 

“Tonight?” 

“Yeah.” David nodded eagerly. “Let’s eat together tonight. Let’s make dinner.” 

“Make dinner? I can’t cook!” 

“Me neither. It’ll be fun. Half raw and half burnt maybe, but, you know—” his eyes seemed to bore into her “—ours.” 

“Ours,” she repeated, wishing she could draw some air into her lungs. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” he echoed. 

She nodded. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” His smile was so soft, his eyes warm. “I’ll get some stuff. Ingredients and things, and I’ll—see you at home.” 

Home, thought Mary Margaret, letting her eyes caress his ass as he headed back down the street, then jerking them away when she realised what she was doing. Maybe they could actually have one. 

And so now here they were, standing next to each other in their kitchen, chopping vegetables and browning meat in an attempt to make spaghetti. 

“Shouldn’t be too hard, right?” said David, opening an old cookbook he’d unearthed from the back of a cupboard. “We just follow the instructions.” 

They browned their meat and added their veggies and a can of tomatoes, several pinches of herbs and a generous glug of wine. The aromas were amazing and the kitchen warm and steamy and Mary Margaret took off her cardigan, draping it over a chair, and when she turned back David was watching her, his gaze hot and almost tangible on her bare arms. She caught her breath and he seemed to catch himself, his eyes flying to hers, their gazes catching and holding, lingering as they began to move towards each other, slowly as if in a dream, drawn by the tug of attraction they could no longer ignore. David’s fingers gently traced her cheek and hers gripped his shoulders, and when their lips touched—so softly at first then harder, growing desperate—it felt right and natural and like coming home, and also sent the sharpest spike of lust through Mary Margaret’s belly that she could ever remember feeling. 

She couldn’t remember it, yet it was so familiar. This was familiar. David’s lips on hers, the silky slide of his hair between her fingers, the breadth of his shoulders, the firm comfort of his arms around her making her feel safe and  treasured. Loved. 

Then his hands slid over her hips to cup her ass and all she could feel was the frantic certainty that if she didn’t get him naked, right now, she would die. She sank her nails into his shoulders and rolled her hips against his, swallowing his moan and adding her own as he hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and then—

“Wait—wait,” Mary Margaret gasped, tearing her mouth from his. She was still a sensible woman, no matter how lust-drenched she felt, and just enough of that sense remained to remind her not to burn the kitchen down. She leaned over and turned off the burner beneath the bubbling spaghetti sauce, then wrapped her arms tightly around David’s shoulders and kissed him fiercely, telling him with her lips what she couldn’t put into words. What she felt for him, and everything she hoped that they could be.  

When they broke apart he stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time, like she was his sun and moon and stars and everything in between. 

“Mary Margaret,” he breathed. “I want—” 

“Me too,” she gasped against his mouth. “Me too. Let’s—upstairs?” 

The icy blue of his eyes had never been so hot. “Fuck yes,” he said. 

~

That evening Archie returned to the small, draughty room he rented in the boarding house where most of the mine workers lived. His body felt as exhausted as it always did after a double shift, his mind as fallow. He collapsed onto the small sofa that doubled as his bed with a sigh and let his head fall into his hands and his eyes fall shut. 

The cushion beside him shifted and sagged as Pongo leapt onto it, his tail swishing across the threadbare cover. Archie looked down at the dog with a faint smile that grew wider as Pongo covered his chin with sloppy kisses then settled down to rest his head in Archie’s lap, gazing up at him with warm brown eyes full of trust. Trust, and love. Archie’s heart swelled in his chest and the worst of his exhaustion seemed to lift, lightened as all burdens are by the presence of a friend. Tears prickled behind his eyes as he stroked Pongo’s silky head. 

“Good boy, Pongo,” he said. “That’s my boy.” 

~

“Your love does not see them. He sees you.” 

Oisín’s words rang in Regina’s ears as she stood examining her reflection in the mirror in the loft’s small bathroom. Carefully she applied another coat of lipstick then brushed a tiny crumb of mascara from beneath her eye. She’d managed to resist the urge to put her glamour spell back on but not the one that had drawn her into the market on her way home from Emma and Killian’s to pick up a stash of land-without-magic cosmetics. It was all well and good to talk about trusting people with the truth of her appearance but did have standards, after all, and no intention of going on a date with nothing whatsoever on her face. 

She gave herself a final once-over just as a knock sounded at the door and took a deep breath to quell the butterflies in her belly. It didn’t work, not even a little, and they fluttered more frantically than ever as she went to open it. 

Robin—no, John, she reminded herself firmly—smiled when he saw her, a smile that had warmed and softened considerably over the past few weeks. 

You look lovely, Regina,” he said, producing a bouquet of wildflowers from behind his back and offering them to her, almost shyly. She caught her breath. He’d brought her flowers before, many times during their slow, cautious courtship, but always from the florist. Tasteful, professional arrangements that a banker would choose, nothing at all like this handful of blooms he’d clearly picked himself. 

“Where—where did you get these?” she asked, taking them from him and breathing deeply, barely stopping herself from burying her face in them. 

“Ah.” He looked a bit abashed. “From the woods. If you don’t like them—” He reached for the bouquet but she snatched it back, cradling it to her chest. 

“I love them,” she said. “They’re just… different from the ones you brought before.” 

“Indeed. It was the most peculiar thing,” he explained, stepping into the loft as she held the door for him and following her to the kitchen where she took out a vase and filled it with water. “Every morning I go for a run, as you know. Always around town, along the same route. But this morning—I don’t know what it was but I just felt the need to get out of civilisation, into nature.” He shook his head wryly. “I’d barely had that thought when I found myself jogging down the road that cuts through the forest on its way out of town. I was feeling brighter than I had in some time, lighter somehow, and then I noticed a footpath leading off the road and into the trees, and on a whim I followed it. It led through some dense trees and then opened into a little clearing with a tiny rock pool surrounded by the most stunning wildflowers.” He caught her eye and smiled. “They reminded me of you.” 

Regina flushed with pleasure at the casual sincerity of the compliment and returned her attention to her flowers, arranging them in the vase and admiring their colours in the fading glow of the evening light. 

“So I took note of the location and went back there just now to collect some for you,” he concluded. “Do you really like them?” 

“They’re beautiful,” she replied, looking up again to see he had moved closer to her—so close—close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek and hear the hitch in it, see his pupils dilate as he too became aware of just how close they were. 

They’d seen each other nearly every day since she’d asked him to lunch, sharing coffee and meals and conversation but only rarely touching. Touches between them when they did occur were gentle, restrained. Cautious. 

(“Regina,” said Emma, coming up behind her as she stood by Granny’s outer gate, watching Robin return to work after their first lunch date. “I’m really glad you’re happy. But… don’t forget he’s cursed, okay?” 

“As if I could,” snapped Regina. “It’s kind of obvious in the way he doesn’t remember me.”

“That’s not really what I meant.” Emma shuffled her feet, her face the picture of both deep discomfort and grim determination. 

“Well what did you mean?” 

“Just that he—he doesn’t have control of himself. He can’t make decisions like he would if he weren’t cursed.” 

Regina frowned. “Are you saying that un-cursed he wouldn’t be interested in me? Because I can assure you—” 

“No! That’s not—look—” Emma crossed her arms over her chest, clutching her jacket sleeves so hard her nails left grooves in the red leather. “Don’t sleep with him, okay?” she burst out, flushing at Regina’s outraged glare but barreling on. “I know it’s none of my business and believe me, I really don’t want to be talking about it, but just—don’t. Cursed people can’t consent, and—” she took a deep breath “—I know that’s something my parents had to deal with after the first curse.” 

Regina scowled, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the twinge of guilt that needled at her. She’d cursed Snow and Charming to those lives with full intent to hurt them as much as she could, and while she wasn’t precisely sorry for it her own recent experiences had given her a new perspective on what she’d put them through. 

Things between her and Robin hadn’t exactly been friendly when the curse struck the Enchanted Forest, and while she’d had a whole year to think about that he had not. She’d spent those moments of the past year that weren’t consumed with her fear for Henry’s safety thinking about Robin and the way she’d treated him, wondering what might have happened if she’d been less scared, if she hadn’t let that fear make her so snappish and bitchy to him. Emma was right. Un-cursed, Robin might not wish for her to touch him. 

That thought hurt far worse than she’d expected.)

But she wasn’t thinking about that now, not with him so close and leaning closer… not when her heart was pounding and her breath short… not when his lips touched hers and she just… melted into the kiss. Melted into him, unable to think of anything now but how right this felt, how right they felt, and how profoundly she wished she hadn’t fought against it for so long. She felt consumed by him, by them and by this moment, and neither Emma’s words of caution nor her own regret, nor even the ominous shifting and creaking of the magic in the air around them could pull her attention away from it. 

~

When Belle arrived home she carefully removed the books Killian had lent her from their bag and placed them on the small table in her living room, taking a moment to let her fingertips trail over them, across the cloth bindings and the leather ones, tracing the titles and the authors’ names, and the illustrations on their covers. They all looked so fascinating she couldn’t wait to dive in and lose herself in the tales they carried within their bindings. And she knew exactly where she would begin. 

(“It’s an adventure tale,” Killian explained as he handed the book to her, his eyes twinkling at the way hers widened and her hands trembled with eagerness. “A heroic quest to rescue a prince and reunite true loves.” 

“Ohhh,” Belle breathed. “That sounds wonderful.” 

“I figured you might like it,” Killian’s grin was warm. “I can tell already that you have excellent taste.”)

Belle made herself tea in her favourite cup, the one she saved for the most special occasions, and carried it carefully to her sofa, curling her legs beneath her and tucking a fluffy blanket around them, and a plump pillow behind her back. She sipped the brew with a contented sigh, and then she opened her book. 

~

Neal Cassidy was no stranger to disappointment. It was always there, clinging to him like the smell of stale cigarette smoke he carried home with him each night from the Rabbit Hole, harsh and acrid and never wholly gone even when his clothes were freshly washed. The disappointment was the same, ever present, hovering in a cloud around his head, wherever he was, for as long as he could remember. 

He’d had dreams once. At least, he thought he had. He must have, everyone did. He’d had dreams and he’d had a family—or at least he’d had a father, though he could barely remember the man, no more than a hazy impression of a hunched form and a plaintive voice. 

I love you, son. 

But that was a long time ago, impossibly long it sometimes felt, lifetimes ago. He was alone now, and had been for—well, for as long as he could remember. He worked as a janitor because he could do no other job, he drank alone because that’s what everyone did in Storybrooke. Each night the Rabbit Hole was silent but for the blaring music that was always on its speakers, patrons scattered throughout the dingy room, staring into their drinks and pretending the rest were somewhere else. Possibly pretending they were. 

He worked as a janitor at the town hall, every day the same, sweeping and mopping and scrubbing, always under the sharp eyes of Mayor Green. Eyes that watched him more closely than a mayor really ought to watch a janitor, and with a smug, triumphant gleam that made him itchy and uncomfortable. 

And then one day Mayor Green was gone, replaced by Mary Margaret Nolan. Deputy Mayor Nolan with tentative determination in her eyes, who greeted him with a kind smile and didn’t watch him as he worked, and who one astounding day had called him into her office to inform him that he owned the pawn shop. 

(“It belonged to your father, apparently,” she said, “and he left it to you. I’m sorry I only found the records yesterday, they must have gotten lost. But the pawn shop is yours, and if you’d like to open it again, well, more business in town wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

“Um.” Neal’s head was spinning. He didn’t know the first thing about running a business. And yet… “Yeah, sure. I can try.” 

When he unlocked the pawn shop the next day it was dark and dusty, with that stale smell places get when they’ve gone too long without exposure to fresh air. Neal stood in the doorway feeling the full weight and scale of the task that lay before him and how very poorly equipped he was to tackle it. He was seriously considering locking the place back up and never thinking of it again when a voice spoke behind him. 

“Hi,” it said. “Are you gonna open this place?” 

Neal turned. He didn’t recognise the boy—not surprising as he didn’t recognise most people in town—but his bright, cheerful expression lightened Neal’s heart and gave it an odd twinge. 

“Uh, yeah,” he replied. “I’m gonna try. I guess.” 

“Cool!” exclaimed the boy. “Can I help?” 

Neal frowned. “Shouldn’t you be in school or something?” 

“It’s Saturday.” 

“Oh yeah.” Neal didn’t know much about kids but he was pretty sure this one was still a bit young to be going around talking to strangers. “Um, where are your parents?” he asked. 

“My dad’s at work,” the boy replied, like he was expecting just that question. “He owns a bookstore.” 

“He does?” 

“Yep. I helped him get it set up, so I know what needs to be done. I could help you too.” He shrugged. “You know, if you want.” 

Neal kind of did want. He wasn’t sure just how much help the kid could actually be, but just the idea of having someone around, of not having to do everything by himself, made the weight on his shoulders seem lighter. Still, a kid he didn’t know… “You sure your dad wouldn’t mind?” he hedged. 

“He won’t,” said the boy decisively. “But I can call him if you like, to be sure.” Again he sounded like he’d been expecting exactly this development. Neal’s frown deepened. He wondered if he was being played somehow, though he couldn’t imagine how or why. 

“Yeah, why don’t you do that,” he said. Let this play out, at least.  

The boy took out his phone and tapped on its screen, then held it to his ear. “Hey, Dad,” he said. “I’m at the pawn shop. Yep.” His eyes flitted to Neal’s face and then away. “There’s this guy who’s gonna get it open again and I offered to help him but he wanted to be sure it’s okay with you… uh huh… yeah… okay.” He looked up at Neal. “My dad wants to talk to you.” 

“Oh. Um, sure.” Neal took the phone from the boy. “Hello?”

“Hello,” said a voice, a deep, smooth, accented one that gave Neal another odd twinge, less pleasant than the one inspired by the boy. The voice was friendly, but it made Neal tense, his fingers flexing on the boy’s phone. “I hope my son isn’t troubling you,” it said. 

“No.” Neal had the oddest urge to contradict everything this voice said. “He’s not.” 

“Good. He sometimes lets his enthusiasm overwhelm his common sense. If he’s bothering you, feel free to send him away.” The voice was light and careless and Neal bristled at its lack of concern for the kid’s feelings. 

“He’s not bothering me.” Neal glanced at the boy, who was listening intently.“He offered to help, and actually I could probably use it.”

“Excellent.” There was a hint of amusement in the voice now that Neal found deeply objectionable. He scowled. “Well, let me know if he causes you any trouble,” the voice continued. 

“Sure thing,” said Neal shortly, and handed the phone back to the boy before he snapped and said something much longer. The boy took it back with a bright grin. “So I can stay?” he asked. He listened for a moment, then sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know. Okay. Okay, bye!” He ended the call and stuck the phone in his pocket. “I’m Henry,” he said, holding out his hand. “Henry Jones.” 

Neal took the hand, feeling that twinge again as the small fingers wrapped around his own. “Neal Cassidy.” 

“Nice to meet you, Mr Cassidy,” said Henry. “So, where do we start?”) 

Henry Jones turned out to be just as enthusiastic as the voice had warned, bright and cheerful and actually very knowledgeable about running a shop. As was his dad, Neal discovered, when the man arrived later that day to pick up his son. Neal had ignored the funny twist in his gut at the sight of them hugging and forced a smile as the man—Killian, as he introduced himself—cheerfully inspected their progress and answered a lot of the questions Henry hadn’t been able to, and even some Neal hadn’t thought of yet. And Neal found himself taking the man’s number, almost gratefully, and even calling it, just once or twice, whenever he hit a snag he hadn’t anticipated. 

Though he liked Henry very much Neal had weirdly mixed feelings about Killian Jones. He couldn’t seem to quell the hostility he felt deep in his gut whenever they met, the twisting anger and resentment that at most times simmered low but at others flared so high they licked right at the edge of hate. This despite the fact that the man was never anything but perfectly nice and helpful and by all appearances the kind of loving father Neal wished like hell he could remember. He tried to like Killian, he almost liked him. But that gut reaction was too troubling to ignore.  

And that was how he came to find himself at ten minutes before seven p.m. walking straight past the Rabbit Hole and towards the harbour, turning down the small street where he could see the sign for Jolly Roger Books hanging from a wrought iron hook above the shop’s wide doorway, swinging gently in the chilly evening breeze. 

Neal set his jaw and rang the bell, and a minute later Henry’s cheerful face appeared. “Come on in, Mr Cassidy!” he said, pulling the doors open. “You’re right on time.” 

~

It was a typical night at the Rabbit Hole. The bar’s interior was smoky and dark though the sun was still in the sky outside, adorned with neon signs in precisely the wrong colours and a ceaseless blare of music from the speakers. Not bad music, not exactly, but bleak and melancholy and a strain on the ears, and just loud enough to make conversation impossible, should anyone wish to converse. 

Generally, no one did. 

A handful of patrons sat at random around the dark and grimy room, staring into their drinks or off into space, not looking at each other, not so much as a civil nod. This was not the place for civility.  

It was a typical night and no one expected otherwise, none there hoped for any more or less from their drinking place or from their lives. 

And then the music stopped. 

It stopped abruptly, with no hiss of interference or record scratch, just silence that fell with the grace of an anvil and was in itself so deafening that it took a moment for those present even to register the change.

The town records clerk was first to notice, rousing from his reverie and frowning as he looked around, his eyes meeting the confused gaze of the librarian sitting one table over to his left. 

“What happened?” he asked. 

The librarian shrugged. “Maybe it’s broken?” 

“Wouldn’t be a bad thing if it was,” said the clerk, and the librarian snorted. 

“Maybe they’ll switch it for something good,” another voice chimed in, this one belonging to a man the clerk vaguely recognised. Did he work for the bank? No… the insurance company, maybe? 

“Let’s hope so,” the librarian agreed. 

“I hope so,” said a fourth voice from behind the clerk’s right shoulder. “If I never hear that whatever-stank again it will be too soon.” 

“Hoobastank,” supplied the librarian, and they all groaned. 

“Even the name’s bloody awful,” said the clerk, and the other men all nodded their agreement, sliding their chairs ever so slightly closer as they did, drawn by the unifying power of a shared grievance. 

On the other side of the bar a similar conversation was occurring. 

“Finally, I can hear myself think,” growled Leroy, still glaring at his beer like it had done him a personal wrong, but doing so in peace and quiet at least. 

The man down the bar to his left sneezed, startling the man down the bar to his right, who had been dozing into his mudslide. “What?” said the sleepy man. “Wha’s happ’nin?”

The sneezy man wiped his nose with an enormous handkerchief. “Something’s wrong with the music,” he said. 

“What music?” asked another man from further down the bar, blinking wide, guileless eyes. “Was there music?” 

“Of course there was music,” growled Leroy, glaring at the dopey man. 

“Loud music,” agreed the sneezy man. 

“Kept me awake,” muttered the sleepy man as his eyes drifted shut. Leroy snorted. 

They all turned to look as the door to the back room opened and another man entered, wringing his hands anxiously and blushing bright pink, the sweat on his forehead glistening beneath the neon glare of the bar lights. 

“Um,” he whispered, far too quietly to be heard over the faint buzz of conversation that now filled the bar. He tried again. “Um,” he said, slightly louder. 

Leroy felt a flare of anger oh his behalf. This bashful man was just trying to get their attention and no one was taking any notice. 

“HEY ALL OF YOU,” he shouted at the very top of his lungs, turning so that the men at the back of the room would be sure to hear him too. “THIS GUY HERE IS TRYING TO TELL US SOMETHING,” he continued, pairing his bellow with a nasty glare that killed every last conversation in the room. “WHY DON’T YOU JERKS SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO HIM?”

The bashful man was pinker than ever but he nodded gratefully at Leroy. “Um,” he said for a third time, and every ear in the place strained to hear him. “I—I’m so sorry, but the music seems, ah, to be, er, broken.” 

“What’s wrong with it?” called the clerk. 

“I don’t know,” the bashful man confessed. “I can get someone in to look at it tomorrow, but it’s too late to do anything tonight. I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” said the librarian. “I’d rather talk with this group of scoundrels than listen to another note of that shit.” 

A chorus of “ayes” and “huzzahs” rose from the men around him, the clerk and the insurance man, and several others who had gathered around them to raise a pint in merriment together. Men whose day jobs left them drained and hopeless and who now preened in delight at being referred to as “scoundrels,” knowing it was as far from the truth as anything could be and yet feeling that somehow, deep in a place they hadn’t known they possessed, that secret place that brought them dreams of forests and campfires and glad camaraderie, scoundrels they might actually be. 

“Doesn’t bother us—achoo!—either,” said the sneezy man, who had moved to sit next to the sleepy man and nudge him with a gentle elbow whenever he began to doze off. Leroy noted that the dopey man was now flanked by two companions, one white-whiskered with round, wire-rimmed glasses and the other wearing a broad grin that Leroy suspected ought to annoy him but instead made him feel like he’d found something long missing from his life. The happy man raised his glass to Leroy, and Leroy raised his in return.

“Doesn’t look like there’s a problem here,” he told the bashful man. “Why don’t you join us—” he’d meant to say join me, but the us he spoke instead felt far more right “—for a drink?”

The bashful man looked over at the group in the far corner, now laughing uproariously and toasting each other’s exploits, then back at Leroy. “Okay,” he said. “I’d like that, I think. Thanks.” He smiled shyly. “Thanks for everything.” 

“No trouble at all, brother,” replied Leroy. 

~

Neal followed as Henry raced up the winding staircase to the third floor and burst through the door to the apartment. Through it Neal could see Killian standing in the middle of an open-plan living space with his head bent towards that of a blonde woman, whispering in her ear. Their pose was unmistakably intimate, his hand curled around her waist and hers resting lightly on his chest, their heads touching. They turned when he entered the room and both smiled, strangely rigid smiles, Neal thought. 

The woman’s face he could swear he recognised, though he couldn’t place it, and vague recognition definitely shouldn’t make him feel so angry at the sight of them together, or cause a stab of jealousy to pierce his gut when Killian’s fingers tightened on her waist and he pulled her almost imperceptibly closer. 

So why did it? 

Neal forced his emotions down and returned their smiles in kind and Henry, seemingly oblivious to the odd tension in the room, said, “Mr Cassidy, this is my mom, Emma.” 

“Your mom!” Neal cried in astonishment, then wondered why he was astonished. 

“Yep!” Henry’s bright grin faded slightly at the look on his face and Neal attempted to smooth his features as Emma stepped forward and offered him her hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said. 

“And yo—” Neal began, when he realised in a flash of memory where he’d seen that face before. “Wait—did you say Emma? Emma… Swan? The sheriff?”

“That’s right.”

 He could place her now, sitting at the end of the table at the town council meetings, sighing and tapping her pen impatiently. Neal frowned again as he tried to remember what he knew about Emma Swan. It was… not much. He didn’t know much about anyone in Storybrooke, and for the first time that felt wrong. He stared at her as he strained to remember, watching as she toyed absent-mindedly with the chain around her neck, the ring on her wedding finger catching the light. 

“You’re married?” he shouted, and that gut feeling flared again when he saw her glance back at Killian, silently seeking support from her husband. 

“Yeah, we—” Emma began, but Neal interrupted her. 

“No,” he said, forcing the fury and jealousy down again and making an attempt to smile. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Of course you’re married. Henry’s parents.” 

“Yeah,” Emma smiled in relief and from the corner of his eye Neal could see the tension drain from Killian’s stance.  “Hey, don’t worry about it. Come in and sit down, Neal. It’s okay if I call you Neal?” 

“Sure.” 

“Do you want a beer or something?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” Neal was starting to think he needed a hell of a lot more than a beer, but it was better than nothing. His gut was roiling and his head felt stuffed with cotton balls, and there was a distant buzzing noise in the back of his mind, like white noise from a broken television. He tried to force himself to think, to remember more about Emma, about Killian, about all these things that seemed to be teasing at the edges of his mind, but the harder he tried the louder the buzzing grew. He gave his head a hard shake and then another, and ignored Emma’s surprised look when she returned from the kitchen in time to catch him doing it. She pasted on a smile and handed him a beer. 

“So Henry tells us you’re reopening the pawn shop,” she said, sitting next to him on the sofa and taking a pull from her own beer. She smelled like flowers, clean and sweet, and gods, he could swear it was familiar. Her scent slammed into him like a Mack truck, carrying memories of something he could feel but not touch, as powerful as they were indistinct. Why couldn’t he remember? 

He gulped his beer and tried to concentrate on her question. “Yeah. I guess,” he said. “Kinda sudden, I know. I just found out recently that the place used to belong to my father.” 

“Oh?” Emma’s voice rose a bit too high on the question. 

Neal frowned at her. “Uh huh. I don’t remember much about my papa—er, I mean my dad. So it was a pretty big surprise to find out about it. But Henry, he’s been a major help with everything. I probably couldn’t have done it without him.” He looked at Emma and warmth bloomed in his chest. “Thanks for letting him come by.” 

“Of course,” she said with a smile. “But you know, with Henry it’s sometimes hard to stop him.” 

“That’s what, um, Killian said.” 

“What did I say?” asked Killian, perching on the arm of the sofa next to Emma as Henry came to sit on the floor. 

“That sometimes when Henry decides he wants something there’s not much we can do to stop him,” Emma replied. 

“Aye, unquestionably,” said Killian. “The lad is a force of nature when he sets his mind on a thing.” 

There was so much pride in his voice as he said it, and so much pleasure in Henry’s answering grin, and so much love on Emma’s face as she looked between them and her fingertips absently traced patterns along Killian’s thigh as his played with the ends of her hair, and suddenly it was all just too much. They rose up and they choked him, all the feelings between these three people and the ones churning in himself, and it was too much and too strong and too confusing, and the buzzing in his head was so loud he could barely think straight. 

Blindly he set his beer down, hoping he managed to get it onto the coffee table, and lurched to his feet. 

“Is everything all right, mate?” Killian’s voice hovered just at the edge of his consciousness, and the mate made Neal want to punch him. 

“I’m fine,” he growled. “I’m just—not feeling very well. Think I should go.” 

“Oh.” Emma stood as well and approached him cautiously, taking him gently by the shoulders, her hands warm through the fabric of his t-shirt. She tried to catch his eye but he evaded her. 

“I’m really fine,” he said, stepping back. “I just gotta go. Maybe we can do this another time.” 

“Well, if you’re sure,” she said. 

“Are you sure?” Henry asked. He was clearly trying to be calm but his eyes were so disappointed, and again Neal felt a surge of emotion that was far too strong for the circumstances. He shouldn’t care about disappointing some kid he only met a few weeks ago. But he did. He did. 

“I just—I feel like—” he stammered, groping desperately for the words he needed to say, to explain. And then Henry stepped forward and hugged him. 

Henry hugged him, and Neal’s arms came around the boy in return, automatically, naturally, like they’d done it before. He looked down at Henry’s eyes, big and brown and so damned familiar, so different from the clear green and blue eyes of his parents. 

Was that even possible? 

“I—” he tried again, but Henry interrupted. 

“Please stay,” he said. “I don’t want you to go.” 

“I—damn it.” Neal snarled. He wanted to go, wanted to run, fast and far away from all of this mess and tangle of emotions hot as fire and memories thin as smoke. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t bear for Henry to be disappointed in him. 

“I’ll stay,” he said, and the world exploded. 

~

Sleeping curses broke elegantly, the Dark Curse dramatically, but this odd chimaera of a hybrid curse, cobbled together from odds of this and ends of that, bound by Oz magic and twisted through the mirror world… this curse shattered. It burst into shards like the very mirrors that made it possible and Emma, Regina, and Zelena gasped in unison as they sensed its fracture. There was no burst of light, no gasp of awakening, just a sharp shock and then memories and then…

The world blurred, shifted, settled, and then snapped back into focus. The colours and shapes and sounds of Storybrooke were themselves again, the breeze through the town was warm and welcoming and the trees in the forest tall and straight, their eerie menace wholly gone. 

Emma looked at Killian, eyes wide. 

“What is it, love?” he asked, reaching for her and pulling her close. “What was that?”

“I think…” Emma lowered her voice to a whisper. “I think the curse just broke.” 

“Really? How do you know?” 

“I—I felt it. I felt it shatter and its magic is… well, it’s everywhere.”

Neal was staring at Henry, blinking rapidly, then a huge grin split his face. “Henry?” he said, pulling his son in for a bone-cracking hug. “Oh my God, Henry. I’ve missed you.” 

“Um.” Henry was still reeling from what had felt like an earthquake. He looked past Neal to where Emma and Killian were standing with their arms around each other, whispering frantically, then his eyes lit up with triumph as the pieces fell into place. “Have you?” he said. 

“Yeah, kid.” Neal loosened his hold and ruffled Henry’s hair. “I did. I—wait.” The smile faded from his face, replaced with a scowl as he turned to Emma and Killian. “What’s going on here?” 

They exchanged a look. “What do you mean?” asked Emma. “You were cursed—” 

“Yeah, I know that, but I mean you—you two—” He gestured at them, his scowl deepening as they unconsciously drew closer to each other. “You aren’t actually—it was the curse for you too, right? All this is just the curse.” 

 “No, mate,” said Killian gently. “We weren’t cursed. Emma was briefly, sort of, but Henry and I never were.” 

“Then you’re really—” Something dark and angry flared in Neal’s eyes. 

“Yeah,” said Emma. “We’re married.” 

“You married him,” sputtered Neal, almost choking on the words. “The pirate? The one who fu—” he broke off with a glance at Henry “—who took my mother away. Him, of all people.” He stared at them, shaking his head, then gave a bitter, grating laugh. “So much for your word, huh Hook?” he said. “You remember, your word that you gave me, to back the hell off and give me a chance to be a family with my son and my—well, her.” 

“A lot has happened since I made that promise,” said Killian, as calmly as he could when the nasty curl of Neal’s lip was making him wish he was wearing his hook. “A lot has changed Bae.”

Neal hissed an angry breath. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Neal, then,” Killian amended. “As you like. We have much to discuss, lad, why don’t you—” 

“I’m not a lad,” snapped Neal. “I’m as old as you are in this realm, maybe older. I’m not that boy you knew.” 

“You’re right of course. I’m sorry.” Killian’s voice was genuinely contrite now, his expression sorrowful. “I do know that. Sometimes I just—forget.” 

Emma’s arm was still around his waist and she squeezed him reassuringly. “Look, I know there’s a lot we need to talk about,” she said. “And I promise you, Neal, we will explain everything. But right now the curse has just broken and people are going to be confused. So can we table all this, please, until we’ve had a chance to figure out what we have to do?” 

“Do for what?” asked Henry. “Isn’t the curse broken?” 

“Yeah it is.” Emma shivered at the sharp, dangerous feel of the magic that had come untethered by the shattering curse. “But that’s not necessarily the end of our problems.” 

“So what do we need to do?” asked Killian. 

“I’m not sure yet. Let’s start by finding Regina. And my parents.” 

-

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