#//And curses his own existence as his vision fades; knowing he will experience the trauma and sweet release of death only BRIEFLY
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@strdstd replied to your post:
{...Pyro Boothill thinkings are being thunked-}
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#strdstd#☆ ┆ ( .ooc. );#//This idea has reached you so now I raise: WHAT IF THIS CONCEPT BUT APPLY IT TO KHAENRI'AHNS#//What of part of the immortality curse is the fact that they can get torn apart/killed; and no matter how brutal; they just#//CANNOT die#//And suffer every moment through the revival process#//Shit like Halfdan in the Chasm is actually a mercy bc they've been freed from that terrible cycle#//but ye#//Thinkings of Dain just#//Heckin SUFFERING every time he gets slaughtered during a bout with a Herald/Lector#//And as he's wheezing that telltale rattle of a dying breath; he bleakly knows he's just gonna have to get up and keep fighting#//he will NEVER know peace#//And curses his own existence as his vision fades; knowing he will experience the trauma and sweet release of death only BRIEFLY#//Before he will inevitably snap awake in agony and have to bear it until every wound is healed and he is 'whole' again#//Knowing more of his body will prolly have been afflicted with Abyssal energy in the process#//Each 'death' and 'revival' making him more and more afflicted with it each and every time as it keeps thinking it needs to 'fix' its host#//Which is worse for him over most Khaenri'ahns considered he's so entrenched and exposed to such energy in his fight#//...or is that too dark kjdkgfg#//Okay adding to this bc I realized I veered lol#//BH gaining that sort of ability with a Pyro Vision is GOD TIER#//Bc can you imagine him dying for the first time with it#//And feeling such terrible FEAR all he's done is for naught; his family will go unavenged#//Only for the Instant the darkness closes on him; he feels such horrible AGONY and snaps back awake with a gasp#//He's still himself with his cyborg body; but he's ALIVE and RESTORED before his deathwound even if a lil banged up#//And each subsequent 'death' only serves to make him more and more reckless as he realizes he ain't got nothin to lose#//Tumbling further into the self-dehumanizing as seeing himself & his body as nothing more than a means to an end#//Bc now more than ever he 'doesn't matter' nor does worrying abt going 'too far' and 'self-destructing'#//Not realizing each 'death' is actually traumatizing him in the long run; no matter how cool he tries to play it#//Worse still if each 'death' leaves those very killing wounds marked on his body as reminders#//And each subsequent revival only tires him out more than more (bc it must rlly take a LOT of out him)
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The Bast Bad Idea (Part 2)
Three-part CS AU where Emma and Killian are doctors working at the same hospital (world without pandemic). They’ve yet to meet, but Emma has definitely seen the sexy Dr. Jones in her travels at Mist Haven Medical. It’s generally a bad idea to get involved with a colleague, but a little fantasizing never hurt… right? Inspired by the song ‘Bad Idea’ by Ariana Grande and a TV couple who set the bar for true love stories.
Part One Here. Story available on FF Here and AO3 Here.
A/N: Hello everyone! First and foremost, I want to start with a huge thank you to all of you who have reached out about this story. The response was so far beyond what I was expecting, but I am thrilled to know that all of you enjoy a CS Doctor AU as much as I do. As someone who grew up watching Grey’s Anatomy, it’s essentially engrained in my DNA to love a medical romance, and this story is one I have wanted to write for a long time. I’ve had more than a month away from writing thanks to my busy schedule, but finally my muse came to play and add a bit of fluff to this sweet short story. Chapter two picks up with a critical question – what was Dr. Jones going to propose to Dr. Swan…? Without further ado, here is our answer. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!
“This might be presumptuous of me, love, but I find I’m helpless to resist. I was wondering – that is, I was hoping that perhaps, you and I, we could…”
His eyes strayed down to her lips, and Emma wet them absentmindedly. She heard a low growl, and realized it was coming from Killian. She shifted in her seat, turned on in a way she had never been before. Instinctively she moved closer, sensing the sinfully sweet current between them, like lightning just before it cracked across a summer sky. The instant attraction was breathtaking. It felt almost out of time and space.
“We could…” she continued, nudging him along and hoping he would elaborate. She wanted so badly for him to say aloud what she herself was wishing for.
Yet where Emma expected words, she was instead met with action, tantalizing and surprising, but inspiring something in her she never expected. Before she knew it, Emma was in Killian’s arms, aching for this moment, kissing him and knowing she was positively senseless. All that existed was this kiss, this touch. It was electrifying and invigorating, a blaze rushing through her blood stream that emboldened a part of her she’d always held back. Desire. That was what this was, and it was luscious and intoxicating.
Following his lead, Emma broke away from the kiss only to gasp for air as he crowded her body against the wall. The hardness of the cement blocks behind her, coupled with the heat and definition of Dr. Killian Jones was too much to handle. She arched into him, striving for contact, and reveling in the feel of his skin on hers. The only problem was these damn clothes between them. Never in her life had she been irritated at this doctor’s coat she’d worked so hard to earn. For years she studied and poured everything she was into medicine, all for the authority this coat portrayed, but she practically purred when Killian stripped hers off and tossed it to the ground. Pushing his off of his body in return made her mind race. The muscles of his chest and arms were driving her to distraction. Then they flexed, and she swallowed harshly, earning a deep, decadent chuckle from this man who drove her crazy.
“See something you like, Swan?”
God that cockiness. They’d never had any kind of real conversation before now, but the way he smiled spoke volumes. His air and his persona were dripping in assuredness. Emma used to think that she hated so much confidence, but when it came to Killian, she craved it something fierce. It was somewhat infuriating, the way his eyes shone with mischief and conceit, but it was also hotter than anything she’d ever known. Still, part of her would rather die than admit that aloud. She had her pride, no matter how wrapped up in this moment she may be.
“It’s hard to say,” she replied, her voice sounding out with a shredded silkiness that she’d never heard before. “I haven’t seen much of anything yet.”
“My apologies, love. Allow me to rectify the situation.”
Emma watched as this ridiculously attractive man purposefully teased her. With deft fingers he reached for the base of his scrub top, inching the material higher up his body. The trail of dark hair he revealed was evocative, but it held no candle the shape and tone of those abs underneath. Sweet Jesus, were those real? Emma bit back a groan at the sight, her lip pressed tight between her teeth. It took everything in her to keep her hands from reaching for him. She lay them flat on the wall behind her at her sides instead, but they balled into fists unconsciously as Killian eventually tossed the shirt away.
His black hair was mussed now, both from removing the scrubs with that always-present swagger, and from her fingers having run through it during their never-ending kisses. His eyes were dark navy blue, but still they shone with hunger and delight. His grin was a mix of charming and predatory, but instead of inciting a fight or flight response, Emma only wanted to surrender. This was a man who knew he was in complete control. He had hooked her, totally and beyond any shadow of doubt, and all she wanted was for him to have his way with her.
The curses he whispered while helping her shed her own scrubs were like prayers on high, a sweet song to her ears that only added to his allure. Killian’s eyes never strayed from her, but his reactions were so open and transparent. He hid nothing, allowing her a glimpse to the world inside, and it caused the power between them to shift. If Emma was being hunted, then she was also hunting in return, and Killian seemed ready to be caught.
“Emma, I -,”
His voice faded out, and she struggled to hear him. Instead, there was a blaring alarm. Was this a fire drill? Why had the light in the room gone hazy? Still, Emma heard herself whisper his name.
“Killian?”
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The screech of the sharp, incessant chiming by her ears wrenched Emma’s eyes open, and immediately she groaned in disappointment. All of that – every exquisite moment – was a dream. Ugh, of course it was! Because this was her life now: fantasizing about a hot trauma surgeon ceaselessly and wishing that her memories of him were more than mere imagination.
“Damn it,” she muttered aloud, covering her eyes with her hand in frustration. With her vision blocked, Emma was more aware of the feeling that her body was wrapped up in her sheets. She’d obviously been tossing and turning through the night, restless in ways she rarely was before seeing Doctor Jones. These freaking dreams just felt so real, and they’d only gotten worse since officially meeting him.
That was three days ago now, but things had been chaotic in the meantime. The level four trauma that came in when they’d been formally introduced totally swamped the ER. Emma was called down for consult on multiple patients, needing to give life and death assessments and treatment plans for half a dozen people. While down there, Emma had the chance to see David and Killian in action. She was struck, even in the grips of adrenaline, by their cohesion and capability. They were cool and collected, battling odds that were dire to say the least, but they prevailed. Emma had worked for years to hone her craft, to heighten her skills, and to meet the moments of medicine that her work provided. But the energy in the ER had shifted, and she felt her own abilities elevated by the camaraderie and collectiveness of everyone in the hospital.
That shared experience only lasted a short while, for after initial inspections and emergency consults, Emma was quickly rerouted to the surgical wing. For 16 hours straight she worked to save the lives of four people, and through something that felt like magic, or maybe divine intervention, she was successful each and every time. That good fortune held, not only for her, but for all of her colleagues as well. The hospital had managed something next to impossible – they had saved every victim of the horrible accident, but the work had been backbreaking. When she’d finally scrubbed out of her last procedure, Emma admitted defeat, heading home and sleeping for twelve straight hours.
Her next shift was markedly slower, and Emma had the chance to see the progress of her post-op patients, and to connect with the others in her unit. It was critically important that the doctors, nurses, admins, tech teams, and other staff were all feeling strong and secure. Patients needed everyone working as a collective whole, and Emma took it upon herself to monitor that. It was unusual for a Doctor, especially one who wasn’t overseeing daily operations, but it mattered to Emma. Saving lives took so much more than her medical degree and steady hands. She needed each and every person in the cardiac wing to be successful, and she valued every one of them for what they brought to the team.
Unfortunately, while Emma’s day was slower and steadier, there was also a favorite element now lacking. She wasn’t too proud to admit that she’d willingly joined Ruby on the daily trip to the coffee cart. Actually, she’d been the one to page Ruby this time, earning more than a bit of teasing from her best friend, but Killian and David never showed. Only later, when Emma was at the tail end of her workday and helping with a consult in the ER, did she learn why.
“He was here for sixty-eight straight hours,” David said bluntly, after having confirmed his diagnosis for a patient presenting with a blood circulation issue.
“I’m sorry?” Emma asked, confused for a moment at David’s turn of topic.
“Killian,” David said, prompting Emma’s face to heat. Here she was, hoping it wasn’t totally obvious that she was looking for a man she hardly knew beyond imaginings, but David had seen through her in a matter of moments.
“Oh, um – that’s, well that’s… crazy. Sixty-eight hours?” That beat even her record, and she’d been called a workaholic on more than one occasion.
“Mhmm. We were on the end of a twelve-hour shift when the call came in and he stayed, until every last patient in the trauma department was seen and attended to. I left for eight hours and was dead to the world the entire time. Still felt laggy when coming back. Meanwhile, he caught maybe four hours sleep total interspersed between rounds, crashing in on call rooms. You’d never know though. He was totally unfazed. Brilliant as ever. It was like being back in the field again.”
“Seriously?” Emma asked, amazed at that. She was no stranger to long shifts, but to work that hard for that long was a herculean feat. Somehow, though, she wasn’t surprised to hear Killian had pulled it off.
“Yup. I had to force him to go back to his hotel. Actually, Regina had to. I tried, but until the Chief said something, he wouldn’t budge. She had to spew all sorts of protocol and legal jargon at him to get him to go. Even then, I could tell he was debating whether to stay or not.”
“He has a real connection with his patients,” Emma commented, vocalizing a fact she’d ascertained by watching him in action. Killian cared deeply, and while his main job may be all about stemming the flow of crisis, and bouncing around from one case to the next just to keep people holding on, he kept track of all those he helped, and invested in each patient no matter what.
“Maybe. I think it had more to do with the fact that it was only eight am and you wouldn’t be at the coffee stand yet.”
Before Emma could respond, David was paged for something else. He’d left her with a polite goodbye, but also a knowing smile. Another time, Emma might have tried to fake that she wasn’t interested or deny that there was something between her and Killian, but instead she was too busy fixating on what she’d just heard. Emma carried David’s assessment around with her for the rest of the day, well after leaving the hospital and heading home. She spent the night wondering if what David said was true. Was Killian as interested in her as she was in him?
“This might be presumptuous of me, love, but I find I’m helpless to resist. I was wondering – that is, I was hoping that perhaps, you and I, we could…”
“We could what?” she whispered, getting out of her car, heading inside to her next shift. “What was he going to ask me?”
“Did you say something, Emma?”
Emma jumped at the unexpected question, senses on high alert as she stood before the elevator in the parking garage. When she found Mary Margaret only a few feet from her, and clearly the orator of the previous question, Emma relaxed slightly. She tried her best not to show her embarrassment, but it was difficult. Now she was talking to herself? Jeez, she was truly losing it at this point.
“Oh, uh, nothing. How are you today?” she asked her friend. Mary Margaret smiled widely. Her excitement was palpable, filling up the elevator car as the two of them stepped inside.
“I’m great! Just eager to get to work.”
“Any interesting cases on the schedule?”
“Oh, uh, sure, there’s a few, I guess. Well really most of my day is going to be in consult with the Chief’s office.”
“Wait a second, you have to spend a prolonged period of time with the Evil Queen and you are smiling? Who are you and what have you done with Mary Margaret?” Her friend now looked flustered, clearly trying to grasp at an explanation and then it dawned on Emma. “This is about David isn’t it?”
“David?” Mary Margaret asked, her pitch higher than it had been just moments ago. Emma laughed at her friend’s terrible play acting. Trying to pretend that this wasn’t about David Nolan was a lost cause. Eventually Mary Margaret realized that, and she sighed, releasing the tension in her shoulders as she exhaled. “Okay, yes, I am seeing Dr. Nolan today.”
“Let me guess, he’s also going to be at the admin meetings.”
“They’re about coordinating long term therapies better with our emergency protocols and treatments. So yes, the head of the ER is likely to make an appearance.”
“I see,” Emma said, biting back a smirk so as not to make Mary Margaret too uncomfortable. In the end though her curiosity won out, and she had to ask. “So, any movement there?”
“Movement?”
“Has he asked you out yet?”
“Not exactly.” Emma waited for her friend to explain herself. Mary Margaret held off for a few seconds before blurting out the truth. “I actually asked him.”
“Really?” Emma was shocked. Not because she thought any less of Mary Margaret. In fact, quite the opposite. She was proud of Mary Margaret for going for what she wanted. She just had never ever seen Mary Margaret step outside of a comfort zone like that, and certainly not with a hospital colleague. “Good for you. And he obviously said yes.”
“Why is it obvious?” Emma rolled her eyes, but in a teasing way.
“Come on, you know you two were making heart eyes at each other the other day. There was a definite spark. We all saw it.”
“I’m honestly surprised you noticed since you had your own, what did you just call them? ‘Heart eyes’? Well, you definitely had heart eyes for a certain trauma surgeon.”
Now it was Emma’s turn to blush, and what perfect timing, because the elevator doors had just opened to the lobby. They exited the quiet of the elevator to a hustle and bustle found only at a top tier hospital. It felt like a swarm of people, buzzing every which way, on their own individual paths.
“David and I going to dinner tomorrow,” Mary Margaret said quietly, looking around and finding no eavesdropping colleagues. When the coast was clear, she smiled, looking back at Emma with excitement all over her face. “That’s all I know though. I may have asked him out, but he made it very clear he had plans for how our first date was going to be.”
“I have a good feeling about this guy,” Emma said, referring to David. She had known Mary Margaret for a long time, and she knew how much her friend wished for a real and solid love in her life. Few people desired and deserved that kind of connection like Mary Margaret, and for Emma, there was a real satisfaction in seeing her friend’s instant connection with a stand-up man. Based on past experience, there weren’t too many of those to go around.
“Which one?” Mary Margaret asked. Emma stammered something non-committal out, causing her friend to laugh once more. “And that right there is all the answer I need. See you later, Emma. Oh, and when you see Killian again, just go for it. Believe me, it’s so much better than waiting and wondering.”
With that, Mary Margaret headed towards the wing of the hospital where the Chief and her admins worked. At the same time, Emma turned her attention to the cardiac unit. She had a ways to go to get there, but while still in the main entrance of the hospital she was stopped short by a gruff, and somewhat uncertain voice.
“Excuse me, Doctor Swan?”
“Yes?” Emma replied, looking to the young man who approached her. Taking in his features, she realized she knew him peripherally. He was one of the new interns cycling through the hospital this year, but he hadn’t worked in the cardio wing or in a surgical capacity. Taking in his lanyard, which bore his ID card over plain clothes, she saw he was an ER intern. Interesting. “Can I help you?”
“This is for you.” The young man offered her a paper box. Emma accepted, thoroughly confused before the intern elaborated. “Curtesy of Doctor Jones.”
“Oh,” Emma said, suddenly incredibly interested. Unable to resist, she opened the box. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but what she found made her smile widely. “These are flowers. Paper flowers.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m not entirely sure of the significance, but Doctor Jones told me there is a note inside as well. He wanted me to be sure to mention that.”
Emma was more than excited to read what this astonishing man would write to her, but something the intern said reminded her of the awkwardness of this situation. Had Killian used his authority over the interns to have this delivered? It wasn’t a crazy assumption. Many of the residents and attendings here saw interns as the low rungs on the ladder. They were meant to be learning and training, but often they were sent on coffee runs and foolish errands. Emma never believed in that though. She found it unkind and unnecessary.
“To be honest, it was hard to convince Doctor Jones to let me bring these,” the intern said, perplexing Emma further while eerily reading her mind. “I had to offer about a half dozen times. My shift was ending, you see, and I’ve been looking for a way to thank Doctor Jones since he got here. You know he created extra hours in the ER skills lab? He’s working with first years too. We get very little access usually, because the third years are prepping for exams and stuff, but he convinced Doctor Nolan to extend the hours. He’s even hosting classes himself. Cool right?”
“Very cool,” Emma said with a nod, and another smile. She breathed out a sigh of relief, genuinely happy to realize this man she’d been thinking of was good to others. It also made accepting this thoughtful gift so much easier.
From there, Caleb said goodbye, heading out for whatever interns did with down time these days. Oh, who was she kidding? Sleeping. That’s what she’d done, and no doubt that was what all interns still wanted most of all. Emma though, felt more awake now than she had in a long while. She found a quiet corner in one of the corridors leading to the cardio unit and took a seat, opening the box away from prying eyes.
Inside the box there were six different types of what looked like origami flowers. They were beautiful and delicate, and she wondered where he could have bought them. Only when she opened the note did she realize the truth.
Emma,
As you know, I’ve been away for quite a while, out in the field in a completely different world. In the desert there’s not really that much to do, except survive and keep as many of your people as well as you can. The downtime is long and hot and quiet. I picked up these tricks from a fellow soldier. It kept my hands at the ready and my mind clear, and there’s an honest beauty in them that reminds me of you.
Truth be told, there’s a flower for each time I’ve tried to catch you at the coffee cart since our meeting. Clearly my missions have been unsuccessful, so this calls for a change in tactics…
Emma smiled at the thoughtfulness and felt the pull of butterflies low in her chest. He thought she was beautiful, and he said it without fear. Had a man ever said so much? Had it ever mattered? Certainly not like it did now. Reading on, Emma laughed at the lightheartedness of the note and the bit of cheeky humor that accompanied it. His easygoing candor and transparency enchanted her, drawing her in even more than she already was. Then she memorized the time and place he suggested that they meet at the bottom of the page, knowing nothing and no one was going to keep her from this meeting.
Only after reading through his handwritten thoughts three or four times did she realize an added layer of perfection: these flowers weren’t just handmade and crafted with intention. They were also safe for her to take with her to her ward of the hospital. Being in and out of the ICU and cardiac units, Emma couldn’t bring real flowers into her offices without putting some patients at risk, but she could have these. From within the box she selected a bright yellow blossom, beautiful and intricate and folded to perfection. Wordlessly she tucked it away in her pocket. The others were deposited for safe keeping in her office as soon as she arrived back in the East Wing, and displayed on her windowsill, brightening the space.
The hours between the start of her shift and the time she was meant to meet Killian passed by slowly. Her rounds usually distracted her, but not today. While she still gave all due attention to her patients, Emma had that sense in the back of her mind that this afternoon would bring so much more to the forefront. The promise of seeing him again kept her heart pattering faster than it should be, and by the time the clock was minutes from their meeting, she was positively bursting with anticipation.
“Okay, usually I would give you a hard time and pretend to tag along, but even I can’t mess with a smile like that.” Ruby’s words snapped Emma’s focus back to the hallway where she was standing, pretending to read a chart. As she looked to her friend, however, she would never be able to recall what was on the screen in front of her. Ruby grinned when their eyes met. “He gave you the flowers, didn’t he?”
“You knew?” Emma asked and Ruby nodded.
“Yup. Ran into him at the cart a couple of times. He was really starting to piss off the kiosk guy with all his loitering. Had to give him a hundred dollars just to shut him up.”
“He didn’t!”
“No, I wouldn’t let him. I told Boris to shut it unless he wanted a hospital wide nurses strike. Guy knows better than to cross me. He just acts tough for clout.” Emma laughed, knowing her friend truly ran this place in most ways. But then the apprehension of the moment caught up to her again, and Emma’s brow furrowed in worry. “Oh no you don’t. No doubting this, Ems. I’ve vetted this guy. Run all the background, checked all the sources. He’s a good one, a one in a million, needle in a haystack, diamond in the rough kind of man. And, to top it all off, he’s crazy about you.”
“You think?” Emma asked and Ruby nodded.
“I know, but that’s all I’m saying. Let Killian speak for himself, okay? And, even though it’s hard, try and trust this.”
“I think I already do,” Emma whispered. “Trust him, I mean. But that’s crazy, right?”
“Love tends to be that way.”
“Ruby.”
“Emma,” her friend parroted, taking her hand and squeezing gently. “Just go for it. Go for it and see for yourself.”
With a nod, and the validation that she needed to hear from a trusted friend, Emma headed off. It felt natural and expected to make her way towards the center of the hospital once more. This time though, she passed the coffee cart, with only a fleeting glance. Killian wasn’t meeting her there today. In fact, she wasn’t entirely sure where they were meeting. She followed the directions he’d given her, up a few more flights of stairs and through the wing with pediatric patients and newborns. She had been here many times before, for consults and comfort. It was a draw here in the hospital – the cuteness of babies just starting their journeys in the new world. Emma looked at them today, noticing the vibrancy inside the nursery, but didn’t linger. Instead, she followed the last of the route that Killian had given her and ended up somewhere she’d never been before. A place that must have just finished being renovated.
“Wow,” Emma whispered, walking into the sunlight on the open terrace.
With the glass surroundings and the plant life everywhere, this place was beautiful. There were pergolas and hanging vines, topiaries and flowering plants, daffodils and tulips, all breathing in the spring. It felt like a park, floating in the air, with the sounds of the city barely audible below. Emma could imagine the kids and the families who would come here someday. She hoped it would be a space for them to find some peace and happiness while staying in this unfamiliar and often stressful place. Hospitals were rarely any fun for patients, necessary as they may be, but this space was beautiful enough to distract from that.
“You made it, love.” The deep rumble of that familiar voice sent a shiver through Emma’s whole body. She cast a glance over her shoulder, finding Killian, leaning against the stone façade of the building behind them. In his hands were two coffees, and as he moved towards her, he offered her one with a boyish smile. “This is for you. Didn’t want you missing a routine caffeine fix for my sake.”
“Thank you,” Emma said automatically, feeling his fingers brush across hers, sending a zing of awareness through her. Her eyes flashed up to his, and she knew he felt it too. Suddenly she had no want or need for this coffee. She cleared her throat slightly before continuing on. “Where exactly are we? And how, might I ask, does the new guy know about it before I do?”
“It’s the Hubbard Family Wellness Gardens, gifted by one of the hospital’s most loyal benefactors” he said, full of knowledge. Emma was shocked that he actually knew what this place would be but then he smiled, gesturing to the plaque bearing that information. She bit back a laugh. “And as for how I found it, that’s easy. I never leave well enough alone, and I’m curious by nature. I’ve been nearly everywhere in the hospital now, but this place seemed the best for what comes next.”
“What comes next?” Emma asked, her voice hitching up as she repeated the words.
“Aye,” Killian murmured, his tone dipping sensually low. She swallowed harshly as he entered into her space, and he tracked the motion. She felt the heat of his closeness, and caught his scent in the air, clean, and male, and with a hint of spice.
“I’m afraid I didn’t think this through,” he said, close enough to kiss her. God, how she wished he would kiss her. Emma vocalized her first thought.
“Really? I did. Like a lot.”
His smirk told her she’d said that aloud even though she never meant to, but before she could react, he took hold of her cup once more.
“I meant these,” he gestured to the coffee in her hand. Oh, right. “May I, love?”
Emma nodded, and shakily let go of the cup she forgot she was holding. With deft hands, Killian placed their drinks back on a table beside them with far more poise than she could muster at the moment. When that was done, he stepped towards her again, looking at her with a glint in his blue eyes that made her heart skip. His hands came to her body, one to her hip, the other to cup her cheek. The rightness washed over her, and so did the realization that none of her dreams could actually prepare her for real intimacy with Killian Jones.
“Last time we spoke I intended to ask you something. Do you remember?”
“Yes, I remember,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from wanting this so badly. Without thinking, she wet her lips, and he caught the action, letting out a groan that mixed pain with passion and pleasure. Then he cursed, a totally British ‘bloody hell’ falling past his lips before dipping his mouth to hers and giving them both a taste of temptation.
The kiss was… beyond incredible, but Emma was so deep in it she had no ability to comprehend anything at all. She was consumed with the moment, arching against Killian, feeling the silky strands of his dark hair and the scruff of his beard. His kiss was assured and passionate, dominant and indulgent all at once. She succumbed to the sensations, and let the rightness surge within her, not caring at all that they were outside or at work or that they’d just met. Instinct took over, and her gut, which Emma had always trusted, was telling her that this man was even more than she imagined, and someone she should choose to let in.
Pulling back from the kiss, Emma and Killian stayed close, and Emma took stock of all the places they were touching. His hold on her was firm but caring, like she was precious, and he wouldn’t let her slip away. In his eyes she saw so much emotion, and again she was struck by his transparency and trust. He wasn’t shying away from her or the moment. He was in the depths of desire with her, and their kiss, that perfect, sexy as all hell kiss, had left him tongue tied. The quiet wasn’t awkward, but assuring, and Emma felt secure here, safe even, while also being filled with more unknown wonder than she’d ever been before. Like someone at the start of a glorious adventure, she took a next step born of passion and hope.
“I’m off at six tonight… so, you want to pick me up at seven thirty?” she asked, referencing a date he hadn’t actually asked her out on. She feigned ignorance even though she could read him like a book. “Unless you were going to ask me something else…”
His hold on her tightened, and he shook his head immediately. She was right. He wanted a date – and she saw no reason to wait when she wanted one just as badly. She grinned at him, loving how the tables had turned. This time he swallowed harshly, and she was oh so tempted to kiss him again and see if he’d stay shy or rise to her challenge.
“It’s a date, Swan,” he said dazedly.
Emma hummed out her agreement, going in for one last fleeting kiss. But where she meant to only tease, he took the reins again, kissing her senseless and leaving her breathless when they finally broke apart. Only when her pager beeped with an incoming call did they end their inevitable interlude, and as they did, Emma felt a pang of longing, wishing this moment could last so much longer than this.
“Tonight, love,” he whispered, running his thumb against her lips. “Far away as it may seem, I promise the wait will be worth it.”
“Good,” she replied, nipping his thumb ever so softly, and bringing the fire back in his eyes, before taking a step back. And with that, and just enough presence of mind to grab her coffee, Emma headed off, back through the hospital to the work that awaited her, knowing she could and would get through anything today for the promise of tonight.
Post-Note: Ah!! Finally!! I got the words on the page!! I did the thing!! I wrote the story!! And honestly, it’s such a relief. It felt, at some points, like I may never get this chapter written, but finally today it came. I know many of you were waiting, and I cherished every comment and review and message along the way. I hope all of you who wrote me, and those who read along with chapter one, all enjoy this installation. I write these stories for me and to brighten my world ever so slightly, but also in the hopes that they’ll spark joy for others too. In a time like this, a little joy goes an awful long way. Anyway, thank you all for reading, sending you the best, and hope you’ll join me next time for the final chapter of this CS AU! xE
#captain swan#captain swan fic#captain swan au#cs fic#cs#cs au#cs fluff#cs smut#captain swan fluff#cs ff#captain swan ff#captain swan smut#emma swan#killian jones#the whole storybrooke gang#cs doctor au#cs medical au#ouat fic#ouat ff#once fic#once ff#bad idea#bad idea part 2
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@eritvita ↩
As borne from the branches of an olde tree dost Roland’s legs prickle from lack of oxygen and pinches of too-tight nerves, and dost he shake them by his feet and ankles whence his Lord places a hand upon his own face.
His mouth thins and an expression of suppressed painful whittles along Roland’s brow, and he clears his throat from a decade of political politeness. “I cannot explain it,” says he slowly, and worried for the branch of a hard scolding. “But … thine talk of ‘laboratories’, and, prithee, perchance the idea of all my old dreams and assurances —” and he looks and gleans a companionable Glance, like a secret of inner triumph, with his walking God. “— hath made me viable for the opened maw of old wounds and regrets. Sects of nightmares; visions of a rust-colored sea.”
And he breathes roughly and passes a hand o’er his own face, and readjusts the edge of his tunic for a bit of comfortable twitching. “The only curse is the trauma of my hard past, my Lord. I was one of many who didst remain within the Circle for nearly the whole of my young Life, but naught without argument … or from violent bloodshed. Perchance the safety I feel with thee, and with thy children and, yea, my kin as First, dost allow me to bloom and release finally these old fights.”
Dirthamen's frown deepened as he listened to Roland's explanation. The hand on his cheek slid down to his neck, lingered and then remained with the fingertips pressed gently into the dip underneath the back of his skull a steady stream of gentle soothing magic meant to stave of any aches he might experience from having been cradled in the Varterral's hardy arms for so long.
"I don't know much about these Circles of yours", he admitted, "Only whisps of memories I could glean from passing through dreams. Most those, who lived in a circle where far too paranoid of possession to let me settle comfortably in their dreamscapes for further observation. But I am confident my laboratory is far unlike those places you dread. It is a place designed to pursue knowledge freely and unhindered, to explore the unknown and catalogue the known. And just like the Varterral it is designed to answer to its masters."
Dirthamen carried on to describe his laboratory to the boy, hoping that a better understanding of what awaits him will help chase away the shadows of past trauma. He told Roland of elaborate architecture so deeply drenched in the old god's magic, it would not even open without his direct command; of a large complex stretching mostly underground, half buried in the Fade even, so that no outside force could violently pry their way in, let alone find the actual entrance.
"And just like the Varterral", he concluded, "It will acknowledge you as my First. Like the Varterral follows your call, it will exist to answer to your needs. It may always be my laboratory, but I purposefully designed it to be forever of use to my people."
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I watched beauty and the beast today and just... beautiful and the beast au with woozi... just because || yo have a nice day~
ayyyyyye thanks for requesting! tbh idk how i feel about this one but i hope you like it! it seems a little rough to me, i started it over a few times but idk man… anyways enjoy!!
You thought staying at the castle for the rest of your life as his prisoner was going to be the worst thing ever; it had started as the worst thing ever, so who would have that could change. All the yelling that occurred the first night, the simple trauma of losing your father like that was enough to break you. This had to all be a nightmare. There was no possible way a castle like this existed and no one had noticed. There was no way you had lost your dad like that. There was no way you were a prisoner. And there was absolutely, zero percent chance all this furniture could talk and move, and your capture was a freakin beast.
You sat on the lavious bed set in the middle of the room, calming your heart down from the beasts previous screaming as you stared at the wardrobe as she flitted about her own drawers. You flung yourself back on the bed in exasperation. You were just starting to contemplate if pulling all of the dresses from the wardrobe and tying them together and using them as a rope to climb down the tall tower was a good idea when there was a knock on the door. You sat up and looked towards the large door. Surprisingly, seeing a teapot and teacup roll in on a cart by itself didn’t shock you. And you weren’t shocked when they started talking to you about various things.
Before you knew it, you were being whisked away to an exciting dinner, and then after that you somehow found yourself exploring the castle. Being the curious person that you are, you found yourself wondering towards the west wing. Little did you know you would soon experience such a trauma that it topped all else that day. Being yelled at again by such a furious beast for the second time that day was enough to send you running into the snowy weather. The wind whipped your hair around your hair as you climbed onto your house, speeding through the maze of plants until you had finally broken free from the cursed castle grounds. Not long after entering the dark forest did you hear the howl of the wolves. You spared a second to look behind you, only two see no more than eight wolves at your horse’s heels.
When the beast came to save your from those wolves is when everything started to change. After ignoring his intense complaining and whining while you tried to clean his wounds did he start to open up. With each day that passed the castle started to brighten up. Each interaction the two of you had, the world grew a little brighter. The staff worked hard to set things up between you and the beast, but whether they had been doing that or not, you were sure nothing could stop you from falling in love with him.
The night the two of you danced around the ballroom was a night you would never forget. The way the lights sparkled, the feeling of the fancy dress brushing against your legs, but most of all the way the atmosphere felt that night. When he showed you the mirror, and you saw your poor father that way, everything about that wonderful moment faded within a blink of an eye. For the second time that month, you found yourself speeding through the snowy woods on your horse, sparing only a second to think about the kind beast you left behind.
You had never imagined going back into town would end that badly. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought the town would lock you up like this and storm off to the beast’s castle, but thanks to your wonderful, brilliant father you were free, and you were making the long ride back towards the castle. This ride felt like a million years, the path never ending no matter how fast you urged the horse to go.
There you stood, the wind pulling at your hair and dress, in front of you the beast and the man you hated fought, or rather, the beast took all the beatings. You couldn’t help but call out to the beast upon seeing him in such pain. He looked over at you with his big brown eyes, and the once dull look began to glimmer with light again. He rose up from the ground and stood his full height, towering over the small man in front of him. It didn’t take long for the beast to easily overtook the man.
Everything that happened after that was a blur. The beast kind nature kicked in, and soon the man took everything you loved from you. There in front of you laid the beast, clutching the wound on his chest. You knelt down beside him, pleading for him to stay. The tears poured from your eyes like a waterfall, blurring your vision. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. Everything was crumpling around you. He was gone, the beast was gone. You hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell him you loved him.
You’ll never understand why the beautiful gold light wrapped around him like it did that day. How it lifted him up into the air and transformed him like that will always have you perplexed. There, before your eyes stood a man, much shorter than the beast. Much shorter. His back faced you, leaving you to see only his torn pants and his white shirt that hung loosely over his shoulders. His dirty blond hair was organized chaos on top of his head. Only when he turned around and you got a good look at his face did you realise who it was. It was your beast, your beautiful, kind, quiet, gentle beast. Alive and standing right in front of you. Needless to say, the past few months were full of intense emotions, but nothing could top the extreme happiness that you experienced that day, and the many days to follow.
#svt#seventeen#woozi#jihoon#Lee Jihoon#svt woozi#svt jihoon#beauty and the beast#kpop beauty and the beast#kpop#writing#requests#requests open#scenarios#i screamed when i saw this#seventeen scenarios#svt scenarios#woozi scenarios#beauty and the beast au#cute!au
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