#Emma stone 💖💖💖

[johnisonlysleeping]

If the only thing you have to say about poor things is that it’s the “born yesterday trope” I have no respect or time for you because you didn’t even watch it or at least went into it with bad faith.

[zepskies]

Hey! Just wondering if you could suggest some romantic/rom-com movies💖

Have a great day❤️🌼

Oh my goodness, I certainly can!! Thank you, bby! 💖💖

10 of my favorite romantic comedies:

(In no particular order.)

1. 10 Things I Hate About You

An absolute perfect movie. Dialogue, casting, story, romance, Heath Ledger, Shakespeare references, what more could a literary inclined girl want?

2. A Cinderella Story

Another gift from the early 2000s. Is it cheesy? Sometimes. Is it adorable? Absolutely.

3. He's Just Not That Into You

Hilarious, sometimes heartbreaking, ensemble cast, but the endings for each couple are undoubtedly satisfying. Plus, my favorite rewind moment of all time:

4. Crazy, Stupid Love

Ryan Gosling, Emma Stone, Steve Carrell, Josh Groban cameo. Need I say more? (But it will also unexpectedly grip your heart with profound, tender moments.)

5. While You Were Sleeping

One of my favorite Sandra Bullock rom coms, of which there are many. (Honorary mentions: The Proposal, Practical Magic, Two Weeks Notice, and Miss Congeniality, though it's not really a rom com is one of my favorite movies in existence.)

6. You've Got Mail

A classic of classics in rom com history. Meg Ryan at her best, Tom Hanks at his. She's a small, independent bookstore owner. He's essentially Barnes & Noble, coming in to disrupt New York with corporate America.

7. Mrs. Winterbourne

A forgotten '90s Brendan Fraser must-see movie. He's the "rich playboy" type, she's scrappy and resourceful, pregnant by her deadbeat ex-boyfriend, and pretending to be the widow of Fraser's twin brother, who recently died in a train accident.

8. Crazy Rich Asians

Based on a book, top-tier casting, bad ass mother-in-law, bad ass heroine, a classy, handsome, Good Man™️ hero? Sign me TF up.

9. 13 Going on 30

Easily Jennifer Garner's best movie, but also Mark freakin' Ruffalo. They're adorable together, and this one's a classic in its own right, full of heart, back-stabbing bitches, and 80s music references.

10. My Big Fat Greek Wedding

It's one of the best, folks. Also one of the most quotable movies in movie history lol. As a kid, I remember really identifying with Toula, who feels too plain, too big, too "frump girl."

But Ian never saw her that way. He genuinely laughs at her jokes. He's patient with her and sees her beauty, inside and out. He also deals with a lot of crap from her family in order to be with her, with all the grace and gentlemanly poise a guy could have.

And Toula learns to love herself, fall in love for the first time, and challenges every expectation of her family to do so.

I have many, many more, but these are just a few of my favorites. What's yours?

Don't see it on this list? Drop it in the comments! 💋

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

💖 Sapphic Books Coming Out September 2024

🩷 It's Sapphic September!! There's something especially sweet about a sapphic romance. Here are only a few of the amazing sapphic books hitting shelves in September 2024.

💖 Which ones are you adding to your TBR?

Contemporary 💖 The View from the Top - Rachel Lacey 💖 The Seemingly Impossible Love Life of Amanda Dean - Ann Rose 💖 I'll Get Back to You - Becca Grischow 💖 Back to Belfast - Emma L McGeown 💖 The Lovers - Rebekah Faubion 💖 Perfect - Kris Bryant 💖 Rabbit & Juliet - Rebecca Stafford 💖 Saving Graces - Ruby Landers 💖 All Daughters Are Awesome Everywhere - DeMisty D. Bellinger 💖 Superficial - Diane Billas 💖 Wild Wales - Patricia Evans Cox 💖 The Dating Countdown - N.G. Peltier 💖 Exposure - Nicole Disney & Kimberly Cooper Griffin 💖 Royal Expectations - Jenny Frame 💖 Fire Fall - JD Glass 💖 Love and Sportsball - Meka James

Paranormal/Horror 💖 The Hunter's Gambit - Ciel Pierlot 💖 We Came to Welcome You - Vincent Tirado 💖 Lucy Undying - Kiersten White 💖 How to Survive a Horror Movie - Scarlett Dunmore 💖 To the Bone - Alena Bruzas 💖 The Beauty of Us - Farzana Doctor 💖 Old Wounds - Logan-Ashley Kisner 💖 Touch of Death - Taylor Munsell This World Is Not Yours - Kemi Ashing-Giwa

Fantasy 💖 The Gods Below - Andrea Stewart 💖 Shadow Rider - Gina L. Dartt 💖 A Dark and Drowning Tide - Allison Saft 💖 The Cottage Around the Corner - D.L. Soria 💖 Night Owls - A.R. Vishny 💖 Spells to Forget Us - Aislinn Brophy 💖 This Will Be Fun - E.B. Asher 💖 The Tapestry of Time - Kate Heartfield 💖 Hunt of Her Own - Elena Abbott 💖 Pathways: Chronicles of Tuvana - Elaine Tipping 💖 Faeries Never Lie: Tales to Revel In - Various

Historical 💖 The Duke's Sister and I - Emma-Claire Sunday 💖 The Butcher's Daughter - Corinne Leigh Clark & David Demchuk

Mystery/Thriller 💖 Everything Glittered - Robin Talley 💖 The Breakdown - Ronica Black 💖 Jones - Gerri Hill 💖 Stone Cold Secrets - Nance Newman

Sci-Fi 💖 Countess - Suzan Palumbo 💖 Tribute - L.M. Rose 💖 In the Shadow of the Ship - Aliette de Bodard 💖 Rumor Has It - Cat Rambo

[tsaritsa]

ana my beloved my heart my love!!! in your most recent writing, what has been your favourite scene/line/dialogue you've written? (or all three 👁️👁️) also do u have any aes/moodboards for ur hp fic?? i cannot wait to devour this fic when it releases 💖

oh emma u know how to ask the most bestest of questions.

Malfoy is chatty when he is as high as a kite. She learns a lot. He tells her about Malfoy Manor, the ghosts that linger in the stone foundations, the way the grass never really grows under the grove of willow trees by the adjacent lake. The first time he remembers seeing magic. The first time he created magic: just a few sparks in protest when Narcissa had given him an outfit that was apparently a crime to fashion. The fashion sense of a four-year old, he admits, curling his body towards her on the floor, starlight hair falling into his eyes like meteors. He tells her about the worst of it too. The way his father would tremble with rage, the whispers of the portraits following him in sixth year whenever he dared to return. How the nightmares began to follow him home, culminating in an oil slick of a tattoo embedding itself into his being. Hermione’s fingers hover over the ink, curiosity and revulsion warring it out plainly on her face. Did it hurt? Yes.

this piece had been a tadpole in my brain for the last year or so and although i didn't intend for the space metaphors and similes to be so overt, when they flow into the prose like this i know i've made the right choice for themes and general ~aesthetic. i want the scenes where they're high off their faces to be so gossamer and blurry (vasalined to fuck as @dairogo and i were laughing about a few nights ago!) there's such a tragedy and horror to space: it is a gaping maw, we know so very little, and yet there is beauty in the most destructive of the physics we know of. black holes? objectively terrifying. but so fucking gorgeous at the same time.

this fic very much has that dark academia feel to it, although there is this underbelly which is rooted in a bit more southern gothic than british gothic alone. ethel cain and her work is def playing a part to how themes are developing in the story, as well as how i want that story to be told. this book i'm reading about the cannibal mermaids has a similar kind of slant in a way: the horror is already there. it's up to u to decide to look into the abyss.

[swiiftiiee]

la la land is arguably the best movie of all time. literally nothing tops this. emma stone and ryan gosling is the best on-screen couple of all time. 🦋💖💋

I know it’s late…

[drclaudiosaracinodcsworld]

DOULEURS MENSTRUELLES vs HYPNOSE ? Hypnose DCS unique au monde

Réveillez le pouvoir de l’hypnose véritable et professionnelle pour dire adieu aux douleurs menstruelles ! 🌀💖

Si vous en avez assez de souffrir chaque mois et que vous souhaitez trouver un soulagement naturel et durable, l’hypnose réelle et professionnelle pourrait être la solution que vous recherchiez.

Voici 3 témoignages de célébrités ayant expérimenté les bienfaits de l’hypnose pour cette problématique :

1 "Grâce à l'hypnose, j'ai appris à gérer mes douleurs menstruelles de manière naturelle et efficace, sans avoir recours à des médicaments." - Jennifer Aniston

2 "L'hypnose a changé ma vie, elle m'a permis de vivre mes cycles plus sereinement et sans douleurs insupportables." -Emma Stone

3 "Après des années de souffrance, j'ai enfin trouvé un soulagement aux douleurs menstruelles grâce à l'hypnose. Je ne peux que la recommander à toutes les femmes qui sont aux prises avec ce problème." -Meghan Markle

Si vous aussi vous souhaitez vous libérer des douleurs menstruelles et vivre votre cycle plus confortablement, utilisez l'hypnose réelle et professionnelle💫🌸

Si vous n'avez pas envie de parcourir les chapelles, de vous faire voler votre temps précieux, de raconter vos affaires aux autres, téléchargez dès maintenant cet audio DCS unique intitulé :

PLUS JAMAIS DOULEURS MENSTRUELLES

https://claudiosaracino.com/prodotti/no-dolori-mestruali-metodo-dcs/

#methodedcs#drclaudiosaracino

#hypnose #bien-être féminin #douleurs menstruelles #santé #regles #femmes #douleur #hypnosidcs

[monzabee]

https://www.tumblr.com/monzabee/719288562386927616/httpswwwtumblrcommonzabee718869613577961472

I’m glad you’re doing good bestie, andd yes I did enjoy also my mum says thank you for the wishes 💜💖!! I can understand the anxious waiting but bestie you’re super smart and and im sure you’re results are going to be amazing🌟!!

Alsoo your new Charles fic was soo good !! The part where Arthur was caught between their fight was so funny and the angst was so well written like it’s a very valid thing so it makes it feel real ykwim ? And the ending was so sweet!! Your talent is just top tier 💖💖🌟

That’s so true fans need to learn to respect people’s boundaries 😭 I love the original cast so much they all were so lovely and fit the roles so perfectly !! I’m so happy it’s on Disney+ so that I can watch it anytime 😂💜

Agreed I felt the Yuki penalty was a bit severe and I hope lando gets his podium this season ! Alsoo wait xavi is going to be fired ? Hopefully the new person will be better for Charles 🤞

Also did you see Taylor revealed the speak now tv vault tracks all the names seem so interesting and I can’t wait to hear them 💜

-💖

well thank you for your kind kind words, bestie, i guess we'll have to wait until july to see if my brain was braining when i did my exams🤭💜 and thank you so much for your kind words about the charles fic, too!😭 i'm glad you liked it, it was fun for me to write but i just wanted to add some fun to it because otherwise it would have been too angsty🤭

i hope they get better with time, honestly🙁 I KNOW, lin's best idea ever was to sell the original cast recording to disney+, god bless him for doing that🤩🩷

i saw some photos of yuki after the race and he looked so sad, poor guy!! and lando def deserves a podium this season, i hope mclaren can also pull a mercedes and fix up their car✌️ i read somewhere that xavi is fired, so hopefully? i really hope the new engineer will be a better fit for charles because he needs a positive this season👀🫶

i did! and there is a song called when emma falls in love and if it's about emma stone and andrew garfield i'm crying myself to death🫡 also collaborations with the fallout boy and hayley williams?? yes please!!💜💜

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

💖 Sapphic Books Coming Out September 2024

🩷 It's Sapphic September!! There's something especially sweet about a sapphic romance. Here are only a few of the amazing sapphic books hitting shelves in September 2024.

💖 Which ones are you adding to your TBR?

Contemporary 💖 The View from the Top - Rachel Lacey 💖 The Seemingly Impossible Love Life of Amanda Dean - Ann Rose 💖 I'll Get Back to You - Becca Grischow 💖 Back to Belfast - Emma L McGeown 💖 The Lovers - Rebekah Faubion 💖 Perfect - Kris Bryant 💖 Rabbit & Juliet - Rebecca Stafford 💖 Saving Graces - Ruby Landers 💖 All Daughters Are Awesome Everywhere - DeMisty D. Bellinger 💖 Superficial - Diane Billas 💖 Wild Wales - Patricia Evans Cox 💖 The Dating Countdown - N.G. Peltier 💖 Exposure - Nicole Disney & Kimberly Cooper Griffin 💖 Royal Expectations - Jenny Frame 💖 Fire Fall - JD Glass 💖 Love and Sportsball - Meka James

Paranormal/Horror 💖 The Hunter's Gambit - Ciel Pierlot 💖 We Came to Welcome You - Vincent Tirado 💖 Lucy Undying - Kiersten White 💖 How to Survive a Horror Movie - Scarlett Dunmore 💖 To the Bone - Alena Bruzas 💖 The Beauty of Us - Farzana Doctor 💖 Old Wounds - Logan-Ashley Kisner 💖 Touch of Death - Taylor Munsell This World Is Not Yours - Kemi Ashing-Giwa

Fantasy 💖 The Gods Below - Andrea Stewart 💖 Shadow Rider - Gina L. Dartt 💖 A Dark and Drowning Tide - Allison Saft 💖 The Cottage Around the Corner - D.L. Soria 💖 Night Owls - A.R. Vishny 💖 Spells to Forget Us - Aislinn Brophy 💖 This Will Be Fun - E.B. Asher 💖 The Tapestry of Time - Kate Heartfield 💖 Hunt of Her Own - Elena Abbott 💖 Pathways: Chronicles of Tuvana - Elaine Tipping 💖 Faeries Never Lie: Tales to Revel In - Various

Historical 💖 The Duke's Sister and I - Emma-Claire Sunday 💖 The Butcher's Daughter - Corinne Leigh Clark & David Demchuk

Mystery/Thriller 💖 Everything Glittered - Robin Talley 💖 The Breakdown - Ronica Black 💖 Jones - Gerri Hill 💖 Stone Cold Secrets - Nance Newman

Sci-Fi 💖 Countess - Suzan Palumbo 💖 Tribute - L.M. Rose 💖 In the Shadow of the Ship - Aliette de Bodard 💖 Rumor Has It - Cat Rambo

[sxlver-sweet]

I’m sorry but I’m in love with your writing😭❤️ it’s so good!!! I absolutely loved your plushie story with the Tokyo revenger boys🤩. Is it alright if I request more boys with that same idea? I’d love to see you write for Mikey, Hakkai, and and I can’t pick between Sanzu and Izana so which ever your more comfortable with writing you can pick the third between those two😁 if you don’t wish to I will completely understand!! I hope your doing well and I thank you for writing such amazing stories💖❤️

— IT REMINDED ME OF YOU // PT. 2

|| m.lists || taglist form ||

ROSTER . . . manjiro sano, hakkai shiba, izana kurokawa

SYNOPSIS . . . they receive a plushie for the first time ; pt. 2

CONTAINS . . . swearing

NOTE . . . OMG THANK YOU SM <3 you’re such a doll. im still trying to figure out both toman!sanzu’s and izana’s characters when it comes to those close to them, so i’m sO sorry if izana’s part is out of character (it most likely is). i hope you like the rest of it, though!!

you sit perched on the second stone step of the shrine, toes tapping enthusiastically and humming a simple, little harmony that’s all but swept up by the distant growl of departing motorcycles. you’ve been waiting anxiously for toman’s meeting to be adjourned so that you can finally have MIKEY’s undivided attention. your backpack is sandwiched between your arms and your chest, concealing the gift you’d spontaneously purchased for your boyfriend a few hours ago. you’d meant to give it to him earlier, but draken had materialized out of thin fucking air at the most ill-timed moment, seizing your boyfriend and chastising him for lounging around when toman's meeting was about to begin. so, rather than sulk about it, you'd quietly resigned yourself to waiting among the shadows for the duration of the meeting, toeing at the gravel and listening to the new recruit mikey had scouted a couple days prior face their formal induction into the gang.

now, you watch as mikey bids draken farewell, and the last bike rumbles its way out of the parking lot. a comfortable silence fills the air, interrupted only by the crunch of gravel and mikey’s footsteps as he makes his way back to you. his bearing is easy and equable, his pace unhurried. his uniform jacket is slung over his shoulders, left to swish and rustle in the same breeze that slithers through the hem of your dress and causes goosebumps to arise over the expanse of your skin.

“thanks for waiting,” mikey’s eyes flutter closed with a grateful yet concerned smile. “but, you really didn’t have to, honey. it’s pretty chilly out here, and all you’re wearing is that dress.”

“oh, no!” you shake your head. “i’m…” your voice trails off when mikey shrugs off his jacket and whips it over your head, allowing it to flutter gently over your shoulders. the heavy fabric provides a suitable barrier against the wind, and you smile at the faint scent of his cologne that embraces you. “thanks, mikey--oh! right! i have something for you!”

“do you like it?” you ask. you reach out to poke his thigh. “you both have super strong legs, so i thought it was perfect.”

“thanks, (reader)!” mikey’s eyes are curved into amused crescents as he takes the plushie into his hands. when his laughter fizzles away, his eyes flutter open, now half-lidded with contentment and a more serene expression of gratitude. “i’ll treasure it.”

“thanks, (reader)!” mikey’s eyes are curved into amused crescents as he takes the plushie into his hands. when his laughter fizzles away, his eyes flutter open, now half-lidded with contentment and a more serene expression of gratitude. “i’ll treasure it.”

the next day, while visiting the sano family’s dojo to donate some extra equipment you’d found lying around, you’re abruptly seized by emma. her eyes are narrowed into accusatory slits, but there’s a sly smile curving her lips that you don’t quite understand.

“what did you do to mikey?” even as she speaks, there’s a lilt of amusement pitching her tone. when all you do is blink at her, clearly oblivious, she proceeds to explain, “i’m talking about that kangaroo plushie you got him. he cleared off a space on his dresser for it, and when i tried to pick it up, he spazzed.” when a glowing smile slowly crosses your lips, she leans forward with an open laugh, eyes crinkling mischievously and hand squeezing your arm. “i think he even kissed it good morning.”

your heart thrums enthusiastically in your chest. well, he did say he was going to treasure it, you suppose.

you nudge HAKKAI’s bedroom door shut with the heel of your foot and slowly shuffle your way forward, vision obscured by synthetic fur and arms squishing the plush body of your present against your chest. you have to actively stay leaned back in order to keep the tail from dragging across the floor. about an hour ago, you’d taken a trip to the mall on a hunt for a suitable thank-you present for your boyfriend. you’d just passed your exams with a grade high enough to appease your parents, something that wouldn’t have been possible without hakkai attentively supplying you with food, quizzing you whenever you needed him to, and pulling more than one all-nighter with you in preparation. you didn’t know how to verbally express exactly how much you appreciate his help, so you decided to try to convey it with a gift.

hakkai is sitting on the edge of his bed, eyes closed dutifully as he waits for your permission to open them. he chuckles at the sound of your strained huffing and puffing. “are you okay?” he raises a brow. “you need help?”

“no, i got it!” you insist, plopping it down with a dull thud in front of him. you heave a sigh of relief and lean back, wincing at the ache in your lower back that you’d acquired from hauling the cumbersome present into the house and maneuvering it around the furniture. “you can look!”

hakkai obeys, only for him to freeze as soon as he notices the gift you’d brought him. a boxer dog plushie towers in front of him, five feet tall and complete with a vermillion collar and royal blue fur speckled with indigo. at first, all hakkai does is stare at it, eyes round and turbulent with undulating waves of emotion as the gears in his brain rotate on overdrive to process that you really carried this big-ass plushie all the way here to give to him. now, it’s currently sitting in his room. it’s five feet tall. it’s looking at him. it’s his. you bought it for him.

“holy shit,” he whispers.

you watch, pleased, as the shock finally ebbs from his features, leaving his eyes to shimmer with glee and his lips to pucker into a baffled "o." he’s never been one for gift-giving, nor has he ever really been on the receiving end of presents from anyone but yuzuha and mitsuya. so now, seeing you standing proudly--yet noticeably out of breath--next to this oversized plushie... he feels flustered, like his brain short-circuited from trying to figure out how to respond. but, while he may not know how to properly thank you or even how one should react in this situation, one thing he does know is that he loves it. so, the least he can do is express that.

“thanks, babe,” the smile that plays on his lips is wide and earnest, eyes glowing with admiration for your efforts. when he picks up the stuffed animal to weigh it in his hands, his body twitches with a sudden snort of laughter at the thought of you dragging it around with zero assistance. “you carried this here by yourself?” he grins at you.

“well, of course!” you plant your hands on your hips, chin lifted in satisfaction. “i’m not that weak, you know.”

“yes, but it’s hot outside.” he reminds you.

“so?” you shrug. “i wanted to get you a thank-you gift for helping me with my exams.” you beam up at him. “i couldn’t have scored that high without you. so, thank you, hakkai.”

he’s quiet for a moment, but this time, it isn’t because he doesn’t know what to say. it’s because his throat is beginning to knot up, and he fears that if he speaks before he can regain control of his emotions, he may tear up. up until a couple years ago, cowardice and helplessness had been running rampant in his life, derailing his self-confidence and reducing him to a sniveling weakling that cowered pathetically behind his sister for years, allowing poor yuzuha to endure beatings meant for him and shivering in the darkness of taiju’s shadow. so, hearing someone thank him for anything has always left a bitter taste in his mouth.

early on in your relationship, he revealed to you his failures and shortcomings, whole-heartedly expecting you to be disappointed in him and regard him with disgust. however, you'd accepted it all in stride. you continued to gaze upon him as if he hung the stars in the sky--all sparkly-eyed and adoring as you reassured him that there isn't a human in history who's exhibited nothing but strength. you'd looked at him with such... such fondness that it made his lungs constrict painfully.

he'd almost felt guilty then. he knew that he didn't deserve someone so brilliant in his life, nor did you deserve to shoulder the burden of being in a relationship with someone as emotionally vulnerable and mentally weak as he was. still, you stayed; and, since you decided to remain a steadfast part of his life, he did everything in his power to ensure that he did things right this time around, landing him where he is now. it was because of you that he resolved to protect those he cherishes, and it was because of you that he succeeded.

hakkai steps forward, drawing you into an unhurried embrace. “no, i’m serious.” his voice is low, mellow. “thank you.”

“for what?” you mumble into his chest.

“for being here.”

you don’t know why you thought this was a good idea.

IZANA has never been one to indulge in the more “trivial” enjoyments of life, like going on hikes or celebrating birthdays or even shopping for the holidays. you don’t think he’s ever even held a plushie for more than ten seconds--let alone owned one. you just wish that you’d had this moment of clarity before you’d impulsively purchased a stuffed animal and showed up at izana’s home unannounced. now, you feel like withering beneath the intensity of his gaze as you stand before him with the paper bag concealed behind your back.

he’s going to hate it. he’s going to hate it. you inhale deeply, preparing yourself for the worst possible outcome. you offer an awkward smile and tilt your head in a slight, apologetic bow. “sorry, i didn’t really think this through,” you explain with a forced laugh, “i just thought that it reminded me of you, so i grabbed it.”

“yes, darling, you already said that…” izana’s gaze doesn’t falter and remains locked expectantly on your face. upon noticing that his stance is relaxed and his usually blank eyes are shining with undisguised interest, you expel a silent sigh of relief. he doesn’t seem to be bothered by the intrusion, thank goodness. even so, you know that he highly values his time and considers it to be precious, which means that you can’t keep stalling. “so, can i see it?” he presses.

“uh, yeah, here.” swallowing your hesitation, you extend your hand toward him, the bag swinging idly from your fist. his violet eyes finally stray from yours when he moves to accept the bag and reach inside. you can tell when his hand closes around the soft body because he freezes momentarily, a small hum of curiosity vibrating in his throat as he fishes out the contents.

clutched in his hand is a siamese cat plushie. its eyes are a shade of purple that matches almost perfectly with your boyfriend’s, and they’re half-lidded in a cunning, scheming expression that reminds you of his personality. at first, all izana doesn't move, his eyes unreadable. “a toy?” oh, man, he really does hate it. your eyes briefly flutter closed in defeat. you’re about to tell him that he doesn’t have to keep it when izana suddenly speaks up, audibly perplexed as he flips the plushie over in his hands. “is there a pocket in it? what am i supposed to do with it? does it serve some kind of purpose?”

“huh?” your eyes flick back to him. “hey, ‘zana, have you never had one before?” when he responds with a shake of his head, you take a step closer and slide your hands over his, fingertips gliding along his slender, nimble fingers and acknowledging the familiar coldness of his skin. “they don’t really do anything. they’re just really soft. here, squeeze.” you close your hands, consequently causing his hands to squeeze around the plush body. when they do so, izana’s lips part the slightest fraction in an expression of surprise as the pliant body folds beneath his touch. “soft, right?” you question. he nods, and his fingers voluntarily constrict under yours, squeezing the body again.

“never had one before.” when you search izana’s expression again, you notice embers of fascination sparking in his eyes. “this is mine?” upon hearing you hum cheerfully in confirmation, a small, quiet laugh huffs from his lips, and his stare softens into a half-lidded gaze. you smile. he may not be as enthusiastic or as lively as usual, but you can tell he still appreciates it.

it’s true, he does appreciate it. but, what you don’t know is that his laugh had actually arisen from a sense of disbelief--disbelief that someone went out of their way to select something they believed resembled him, disbelief that out of all things, this is new territory for him, and disbelief that such a simple, little gift is able to stir up a hazy warmth within him that’s so foreign and unfamiliar that, for a moment, he genuinely doesn’t know what to do.

it’s a small gesture, he knows that. even so, not only is this cat plushie the first gift he’s received from you, it’s also the first gift he’s received that isn’t endowed with material wealth nor has been offered to him as a flamboyant peace offering. rather, it makes him feel loved, wanted, like he matters to someone without needing a good reason for them to enjoy his presence. as addicting as the feeling may be, it’s still a bit unnerving. all of this is just so... new. so, all he does is stare at it, posture stiff, slender neck inclined in wonder, and eyes swirling with an array of emotions while his tongue sits heavy in his mouth, cumbersome and useless, as he tries to piece together some kind of thank you. if nothing else, he at least wants to reach out and touch you; but, for some reason, his body just won’t cooperate.

halfway across the room, his ringtone blares, snagging his attention and snapping him back to reality. “that’s kakucho’s.” izana notes aloud. he returns his attention to the plushie, a shadow of confliction crossing his face. after about five seconds of him not making a move to answer the phone, you start to lift your hands, lips parting in an offer to hold his present while he takes the call. but, before you can, izana quickly nestles the plushie under his neck, chin tilted down to pin the squishy head to the hollow of his throat.

“uh, izana?” you quirk a perplexed brow. “what…”

he doesn’t speak as he zips up his black jacket, enclosing both the bodies of him and the plushie. the head of the siamese pokes out from the top of his collar, settled in the delicate curve where izana’s jaw meets his neck. you have to actively choke back a laugh at how ridiculous he looks with that obscure expression, the oddly feline-shaped bulge in his jacket, and the purple-eyed siamese head propped beneath his chin. he doesn’t seem bothered by it in the least as he, hands now free, makes his way toward the phone to find out what kakucho is calling for.

once he disconnects the call, you expect him to remove the plushie and set it aside, so you’re pleasantly surprised when he makes no move to unzip his jacket. he walks around with it zipped against him for the next few hours, nonchalantly completing tasks and lounging around with the siamese toy squished under his chin. interesting, you acknowledge. but, you decide to refrain from questioning him.

it isn’t until you’re sitting at the kitchen table flipping through a magazine that you sense izana’s presence hovering silently behind you. before you can say anything, he leans forward, planting his hands on the back of your chair for leverage. you hum, puzzled, when you feel the button nose of the siamese plushie wedged against the back of your head. so, he still has it zipped up. you tilt your head back to glance at him, only to freeze when you’re greeted by a quick press of izana’s lips to the crown of your head. his platinum locks tumble across his forehead in a glossy curtain, shrouding his eyes in an arcane shadow and matching the idle swaying of his trademark hanafuda earrings as he bows over you. you tip your head in an attempt to peek at his eyes.

“izana?” you prod quietly. “everything okay?”

“thanks.” he murmurs. when he doesn’t continue, you smile softly, knowingly.

“you’re welcome.”

[sundove88]

All 24 Inspirational Quotes in Balan Wonderworld: The Blooming Lotus

Link to Fanfiction: https://www.wattpad.com/story/283141412?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create_story_details&wp_uname=Livigirl88&wp_originator=M1LH%2BEZSBbTzJ5BZQAy2eAkiKbPKzhjgpr0I4ztiZDlHq1mORPxvvvGsgmTEzb11aLOstV0wgK8DwF46uRXZ%2F8QytETScbl4RZlThEAt99aOhQlhq3LNzwDKWUO4rWrT

🌪The Man Who Rages Against The Storm🌽

“Hope’s Eternal Light can chase away the storms of devastation.” (Jose Gallard)

🌊The Dolphin and The Diver🐬

“True friends will never turn on you no matter what.” (Fiona Demetria)

🐞The Girl Who’s Gaga For Bugs🦋

“Sharing your passion with others helps bonds grow stronger.” (Yuri Brand)

✈️The Boy Who Would Be One With The Wind🍃

“Never give up, even when obstacles stand in the way of your dreams.” (Haoyu Chang)

🌳The Lady Filled With Avian Adoration🕊

“There’s always a solution to everything, no matter how overwhelming it seems.” (Sana Hudson)

⏰The Girl and The Kitten 🐱

“The past can return when you least expect it.” (Cass Milligan)

♟The Former Champion Obsessed With Past Glory👑

“Playing a game is never about winning or losing. It’s about having fun and enjoying.” (Cal Suresh)

❄️The Lady Too Scared to Love💍

“Those who are gone are always still with you, and love refuses to die.” (Iben Bia)

🤡The Man Who Fell For a Princess🎡

“Don’t be afraid of what you decide. Each decision opens up a new path.” (Attilio Caccini)

🎨The Artist with Painter’s Block🖼

“Going outside your comfort zone can inspire you even further.” (Lucy Wong)

🔥The Firefighter Who Wants to Be a Hero🧯

“You are much braver than you think at first.” (Eis Glover)

🧊The Man Seen By No One🗑

“You are never truly alone- there are folks just like you.” (Bruce Stone)

🥘The Baker Who Feared Mistakes🍰

“Mistakes are a part of life- they make things better sometimes.” (Esme Alastair)

🏎The Driver Who Sought Good Sportsmanship🏁

“Trust in your heart and always follow it to the end.” (Wilson Lucius)

🎸The Deaf Musician Who Wanted to Sing🎤

“It doesn’t matter if you’re different or not. Everyone you meet will accept you for who you are inside.” (Lydia Maxwell)

🏅The Soccer Player and His Fleeting Dreams⚽️

“Even if things seem their lowest, Hope can help you resurface.” (Adrien Paisley)

🦢The Ballerina Too Scared of The Stage 🩰

“The power to dance for all who are and aren’t watching stems from courage within.” (Clarissa Swan)

🥋The Karate Student Who Felt Weak🌸

“True strength comes from within, not from outside.” (Shin Takahashi)

🎞The Actress Who Doubted Stardom🎥

“Don’t worry about the outcome. Always enjoy the moment.” (Stella Carlson)

💐The Gardener and The Plants He Loved🥀

“It’s alright to let go of friends- you might meet new ones.” (Derek Terrabora)

☔️The Weatherman and The Hurricane🌀

“Even if the storms seem huge, just know that the sunlight of determination will shine through.” (Harvey Liang)

🌟The Girl Who Longed to Visit The Stars🔭

“Never stop reaching for the stars, even in the face of adversity.” (Alicia Marcos)

🏇The Horse Rider and His Cherished Horse🐴

“Friendships last forever, whether it be between man or beast.” (Jeremy Brown)

🏥The Nurse Searching For a Cure🩺

“It’s never too late to save a life, change the world, or both.” (Regina Cunningham)

But most importantly…

“True Happiness Is An Adventure, and always will be.”

⭐️💖🏮💛🌈🎼 (Leo, Emma, Mei (@sundove88), Rebecca (@thehypercutstudios), Trisha Jane (@lovelyteng), and Kaylo (@kayssweetdreams)

Thanks, Yuji Naka and Balan Company, for such an excellent game… I hope you’ll recognize your fandom’s devotion.

P. S.: I’m getting a Balan Cosplay for Halloween! Stay tuned!

[drclaudiosaracinodcsworld]

DOLORI MESTRUALI vs IPNOSI? Ipnosi DCS unica al mondo

Risveglia il potere dell'ipnosi vera e professionale per dire addio ai dolori mestruali! 🌀💖

Se sei stanca di soffrire ogni mese e vuoi trovare un sollievo naturale e duraturo, l'ipnosi vera e professionale potrebbe essere la soluzione che stavi cercando.

Ecco 3 testimonianze di celebrità che hanno sperimentato i benefici dell'ipnosi per questo problema:

1 "Grazie all'ipnosi ho imparato a gestire i miei dolori mestruali in modo naturale e efficace, senza dover ricorrere a farmaci." - Jennifer Aniston

2 "L'ipnosi ha cambiato la mia vita, mi ha permesso di vivere i miei cicli in modo più sereno e senza dolori insopportabili." - Emma Stone

3 "Dopo anni di sofferenza, ho finalmente trovato sollievo dai dolori mestruali grazie all'ipnosi. Non posso che consigliarla a tutte le donne che stanno lottando con questo problema." - Meghan Markle

Se anche tu desideri liberarti dai dolori mestruali e vivere il tuo ciclo in modo più confortevole, utilizza l’ipnosi vera e professionale💫🌸

Se non hai voglia di girare cappelle, farti rubare il tuo prezioso tempo, raccontare i fatti tuoi in giro, scarica ora questo audio DCS unico al mondo dal titolo:

MAI PIÙ DOLORI MESTRUALI

https://claudiosaracino.com/prodotto/no-dolori-mestruali-metodo-dcs/

#metododcs#drclaudiosaracino

#ipnosi #benesserefemminile #dolorimestruali #salute #ciclo #cose #donne #dolori #ipnosidcs

[xninetiestrendx]

I was tagged by so many friends @celestialmickey (creator extraordinaire) @energievie @gallawitchxx @you-are-so-much-better-than-that @thisdivorce @heymrspatel @bravemikhailo @suchagallabitch for today’s tag game. Thank you all for tagging me I love y’all dearly 💖💟

Your name backwards: alyakim ..fun😃👍🏻

The song you have stuck in your head: Pocketful of Sunshine. But Emma Stone singing it in Easy A ☀️

Do you play an instrument: not anymore but I was learning piano in high school

First celebrity crush: probably Rider Strong

Where is your happy place?: somewhere overlooking a really pretty view

Something you would tell your younger self: don’t be friends with her, or her, oop not her either.

Would you rather live in outer space or underwater?: let me be among the stars 🌟

Something you think is overrated: tesla’s

Favorite holiday: a tie between Halloween and Christmas 🎃🎄

Favorite kind of weather: depends on my mood but either dark and rainy or a sunny spring day, windows open so you can feel the breeze and smell fresh cut grass

Something on your bucket list: facing my crippling fear of heights on my trip and going on the Navy Pier ferris wheel and sky deck

A tattoo you don’t have but want to get: ‘love you’ in both of my parents handwriting either on one arm stacked over the crease of my elbow or one on each arm

tagging: @matteoamiras @squirrelfund @lethargicmick @iansw0rld @mikhailoisbaby @flamingbluepanda if you want or here is me just cradling you in my love 💖

[marvecl]

HAPPY 2ND MONTHSARY, love.

halo Ezaire, ai, pacarku, sayang, cantik, cintaku, dunia, semesta, jagat raya. IT'S ME STEPHEN STRANGE'S SON, HAPPILY TO ANNOUNCE THAT happy 2nd monthsary, my love.

Everyone loves red

Our sign blue

More and more blue than now

di momen yang berbahagia ini izinkan aku membawakan angkotkopter, bercanda. izinkan aku memberikan sepatah dua patah kata.

it's been just two months but with you it already feels like home.

"Home is where you are loved wholly and unconditionally, without barriers, restrictions, judgments, or expectations. Home is where you are most comfortable being your absolute self—where you are treasured and celebrated for the unique flaws and quirks that make you authentically you."

source: thoughtcatalog.com

yang di atas bener banget, a perfect explanation why Ezaire is Marvel's home.

Eza isn't like a shot of espresso like Emma Stone, even better than that. he's like a morning dew, calming yet refreshing, it reminds me of new beginnings, but it doesn't make me nervous or feel anxious. he's more like a warm chocolate drink that we drink when it's raining, feels warm and safe. INGET INI GAK soalnya it really how i feels whenever i remember you, or whenever i'm with you, i feel safe. wait OHHHHHHH YOU ARE MY SAFE PLACE, you are indeed.

it's been a long time since i have been this happier for the past two months. even though it's kinda tiring and making my cheek bones hurt becuse i ALWAYS BEEN SMILING LIKE CRAZY WHENEVER REPLYING TO YOUR MESSAGES but it's okay because it's you, Ezaire. thank you so much. thank you for your love, laugh, care, affection, attention, patience, presence, accompany, support, basically everything. thank you for the happiness that you always gave to me, and for those moments when we always shared our thoughts.

time will fly, people will change and the colors of life will disappear, but one thing that i would and am willing to remain constant is my love for you.

ai, you changed my life and my perspective on love. i don't want to lose you in any possible way, so i'll always try my best to always be with you and shower you with all of my love. i wish you to stay with me for a long time and LET'S MEET AGAIN ON THE NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT NEXT MONTH.

i love you so much and a lot, just like you always knew. please bear with me for many more months❤.

I LOVE YOU AI I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AI I LOVE YOU A LOT AI I LOVE YOU PISAN AI ILYSM AI ILY AI I LOVE YOU TEU EUREUN EUREUN AI I LOVE YOU GAADA ABISNYA AI I LOVE YOU ENDLESSLY AI I LOVE YOU INFINITELY AI i love you i love you i love you so much je t’aime ti amo 我爱你 ich liebe dich あなたが大好きです 사랑해요 Kocham Cię Eu te amo Ты – моя любовь на всю жизнь Me encantas Seni seviyorum Ես քեզ սիրում եմ আমিতোমায়ভালোবাসি მიყვარხარ Aloha Au Ia`oe Palangga ko ikaw ຂ້ອຍຮັກເຈົ້າ Tôi yêu các bạn ຂ້ອຍຮັກເຈົ້າ Mahal kita Te quiero Jeg elsker deg Njan ninne premikunnu Ayor anosh’ni Es tevi miilu Bahibak ನಾನುನಿನ್ನಪ್ರೀತಿಸುತ್ತೇನೆ أحبك Ek het jou lief Ya tabe kahayu Я люблю цябе U kamakutu nu Volim te Ma armastan sind Mina rakastan sinua მიყვარხარ હુંતમનેપ્રેમ Palangga ko ikaw நான்உன்னைகாதலிக்கிறேன் abdi bogoh ka anjeun AKU CINTA KAMU

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️

#MARVEZA #COTY #MARVEZABESTCOUPLE

[brw]

Pietro & Wanda for the character ask thing!!

PIETRO

Sexuality Headcanon: Honestly I'm not sure! On one hand ofc both twins can be bi and also he has some nice Homoerotic Relationships™. On the other hand it's kinda funny to imagine him as a cishet who doesn't understand but is supportive of his trans bi sister, and his two queer nephews. The token straight of the Maximoff gang <3 but yeah basically nothing it set in stone for him dhrhhrhfhr.

Gender Headcanon: I personally do not have anything perfectly set in stone again however I like the headcanons some people have of him being trans and have read a few nice fics so :> yeah nothing again that's set in stone or disputable for me I just like seeing people's Thots™ on the matter

A ship I have with said character: God I dunno 🙈 I have relationships that I like with him but nothing that I strongly ship u know? Like lots of concepts that are fun but nothing that I go "yeah that's good". Probably either the Silverfish ship or him and Emma in No Surrender were sweet.

A BROTP I have with said character: Hmm him and Lorna I think! I absolutely hate P*ter D*vid still but their moments were nice :)

A NOTP I have with said character: Saw some xmcu fans ship him and Scott together which <3 no.

A random headcanon: While I don't think he's got ADHD (I stay away from hc speedster characters as having ADHD bc :/) I do think he would benefit from having stims so I think he uses figit spinner when he wants to go Fast™ but cannot :>

General Opinion over said character: He's nice tbh. I prefer him in X Stories tbh (I swear every time him and Vision are on panel together I'm just like "stay away. go someplace else PLEASE) but I liked him in the Cap's Quartet days! I also think marvel should bring back him liking the circus bc that was really pure and nice :) also I think he's not dramatic enough these days. Needs to be more over the top I think. Also rip to the way Englehart wrote him, though Englehart just had a think for cucking (I mean seriously, he wanted to write Vision cheating on Wanda w/ Mantis and wrote Clea almost cheating on Strange with Benjamin Franklin apparently??? So who knows what was going thru his head) so hdndjrh.

WANDA

Sexuality Headcanon: Bisexual :> but tbh I'm open for most headcanons and stuff hdhhdhrhrh.

Gender Headcanon: Trans Wanda my beloved... I just like the idea :) I have the url transwandamaximoff for a reason! It is just a vibe ❤️ marvel can kiss my ass idc

A ship I have with said character: Guess. Go on, guess.

Them, of course. One of the classics. Hope old marvel writers are rolling in their graves at me calling this a lesbian romance hdhdhdhhd.

A BROTP I have with said character: Her and Janet! They were really sweet together and their friendship was nice :> also her and Mantis. They were friends too and idk it was nice to see them be chill together. None of this "women forced into a stupid rivalry bc of a love triangle" bullshit I just want them drinking tea and gossiping together.

A NOTP I have with said character: Her and Simon 🤢Byrne I'm never going to forgive you for that. Also her and Victor. That was... strange and unappealing. I really... do not understand. Also her and Carol. She deserves better than an ex-military war criminal jfc.

A random headcanon: Honestly considering Wanda helped design some outfits for people (the Goliath Hank Pym fit was her :>) I like to think that Janet decided to take her sort of as an apprentice for a bit and taught her how to design clothes and that she's actually good at it :> I also imagine if Janet asks she models for her on occasion!!

General Opinion over said character: Wife ❤️💖💞 treated like shit by m*rvel c*mics and for WHAT. if she was written by Bendis it didn't happen <3 deserves way more than what she gets. Should get to lead her own Avengers Team at some point tbh. Her relationship with Vision also wasn't any worse than any other Silver Age Romance at the time so idk why people act like it was? But um yeah 👉👈 Hickman if ur not gonna retcon the stupid AXIS thing keep your filthy hands of her.

send a character

[thisonesatellite]

The Sword and The Heart -- CH 5

 SUMMARY:  It started because love was a weapon.

Wait–this is how it started: Emma opened her mouth to scream, and the world went dark.

There was danger and Darkness, and words spoken into the void as she surrendered herself.

It started because Emma did not want to see anyone else she loved die. (He’d promised her he wouldn’t.)

Love was a weapon, and it was always used against her, to separate her from the people she loved. (From the person she loved.)

That’s how it started.

But now Emma Swan, Dark One, has to answer a question:  How does it all end?

(Season 5 Canon Divergence - for @cssns​​​ )

.

| CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | AO3 |

.

A/N:  Guys.  Do you know what this is?  This is the halfway point.  The end of 5A.  And the chapter title is The Hero Dies In This One - and kids, if you’ve ever actually seen 5A this cannot possibly come as a surprise to you.

Can it?  (This is such a MUAHAHAHAHAAAAAA moment, i can hardly contain myself.  Please forgive me.  🤣)

Also - this chapter is an absolute beast at 8.4K words, and any and all lines lifted from BtVS are completely intentional.

All thanks to my partner in crime @ohmightydevviepuu​, the Goddess of the Canon Phrase and the Thinker of Brilliant Thoughts.  And to @profdanglaisstuff​ and @katie-dub​ who have listened to us and been our brilliant support for so long now.  💖

But mostly to all of you out there who are reading and walking these strange and twisting paths with us - thank you so much.  💕💕💕

Now strap in.  The midseason finale is coming down the line with a wallop.

.

If you want on or off the tag list, let me know!  (And seriously - if it’s ‘off’ - please don’t worry.  Absolutely no hard feelings.)

@mariakov81​ @stahlop​​ @thejollyroger-writer​​ @snowbellewells​​ @captainsjedi​​ @toomanyfandomstochoosefrom​​ @xarandomdreamx​​ @tiganasummertree​​ @mayquita​​ @ohmightydevviepuu​​ @sals86​​ @karenfrommisthaven​​ @kmomof4​​ @kday426​​ @superchocovian​​ @jennjenn615​​  @facesiousbutton82​​ @suwya​​ @spartanguard​​ @capnjay21​​ @shardminds​​ @carpedzem​​ @girl-in-a-tiny-box​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @lfh1226-linda​ @artistic-writer​​ @teamhook​​ @katie-dub​​  @shireness-says​​​ @qualitycoffeethings​​​ @cluttermind​​​  @fragilebeautifulchaos​​​ @optomisticgirl​​​  @klynn-stormz​​ @winterbaby89​​ @ethereal-madnesss​​ @scientificapricot​​

.

.. 

.

CHAPTER 5 - The Hero Dies In This One

. 

A twist of her palm and a flick of her wrist, nothing more, and Emma found herself back on the hilltop, the clear, ageless, undefined female voice surrounding her.  It echoed in the cold and inside her head equally; it sounded like happiness would sound if it wasn’t an emotion but a degree of satisfaction.  Wind gushed past her, even colder than the night air, but it was nothing against the thickness of her skin or the heaviness of her robes.  Cold was nothing more than information, now--irrelevant, like pain or anger or happiness or tears.

A pale moon shone down on massive hulking stones and a rough-hewn basin and when Emma saw her skin glitter in the dim light it did not shock her.  The darkness was no longer impenetrable to her eyes--it was simply a different way of seeing.

Everything .

  “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Emma huffed.  Why was everyone always waiting?  She lifted her chin, looked past the muted colors of ancient stone and said, “Show yourself.”

The voice laughed and the sound bounced off of the boulders and rang in her head.

  A figure emerged from nowhere--from everywhere--appearing before her in the guise of a woman:  green-skinned, gold-flecked, solid.

And yet unreal.

“Waiting for me?”  Emma’s words rang against the granite and the grass, hollow and disconcerting.  It echoed between her temples just like all the others.  “Why?”

Pealing laughter, clear as a bell and just as foreboding.

“It’s not every day we get a Dark Savior,” the voice whispered.  Its anticipation was almost something Emma could taste in her own mouth.  “But you were promised to us, and here you are.”

“Who.  The fuck.  Are you.”

“I am Nimue,” the voice proclaimed.  “I am the First.”

Nimue .

The voice built up and crested and split apart, multiplying, fracturing; as Nimue lifted her hand and revealed dozens of figures behind her--motionless, black-cloaked, their skin a rainbow of glittered hues, their hands raised just like Nimue’s, who laughed, and they all laughed,

inside Emma’s head

Until she had to suppress the incongruous urge to laugh.

  “I am all of the Dark Ones,” she said.  The figures vanished and Emma and Nimue were alone again.  “I am the first and the last, and I will tell you a secret, Savior.”

  (Fire the blade.)

(Be free of your fear.)

  Nimue smiled.

Emma flinched.

“You can stop fighting.  I am you as well.”

And the voice that Emma heard now--

was her own.

  --

  The flask was open, untouched in front of him as he ran his fingers across the pebbled surface and was reminded of Emma’s skin, and the way it felt now; pebbled but still soft, cool but still warm.  Like her but not.

  The library chairs were uncomfortable but Killian could not sit in the room where she had been in the bed where they had been and wonder if he had just damned them all to Hell or paved the way for her salvation.  The pile of books was still stacked on the table, haphazard and unbalanced.  Several lay open where Killian had left them and seeing the Sorcerer’s words in his ancient script only made Killian more angry and uncertain.

  Surely, the choice needed to be hers.  That was what Merlin had implied, and Killian could not shake the feeling that it was the right thing to do.  Emma Swan was, above all things, a person of action--but perhaps he should have realized.

  There was nothing that Emma Swan feared more than wanting things and he had just asked her to willingly give up what he had promised he would never take away, the one thing she had ever let herself want.

He’d promised her.

He should have known, he should have--

No.  He trusted her.

  Love was a weapon .

But he trusted her not to destroy him.  He trusted her to understand what was necessary to defeat the Darkness.  He believed .

  A sniffle carried over from the next shelf, disturbing his ruminations.  Carefully Killian pocketed his flask and followed the sound back to Henry, who was crouched over a table staring desperately at a book written in a language he couldn’t read as if he could will the words to make sense.

  “Henry,” Killian said.  He kept his voice low but Henry jumped.

“I don’t understand,” the boy said.  “This isn’t how things are supposed to end.”

  Killian’s jaw tightened, and he knew, he knew --he could never separate this boy from his mother.  He could never break up this family, this family that had somehow become his family.  

They had already had more time together than they were ever meant to.

  “And I’m--I’m the freaking Author , I should have been able to--”

But the Author was nothing more than another one of Merlin’s diversions, Killian knew now.  Merely power unleashed upon the world at Merlin’s whim, for his own amusement.  Perhaps even a way of seeding the chaos--and darkness--that would eventually cause Emma to be born.  Killian put his hand on Henry’s shoulder and was surprised to feel his weight slumped against his side until there was nothing he could do but wrap him in a one-armed hug as they sat, Henry’s tears falling over the pages of the open book.

  This volume had the same distinctive handwriting as the journals he had already found, but the words were different--the language was different.  This was not the arcane dialect of the upper-class and the nobility of old Misthaven; it was rough, with only the basest rules of grammar--words and phrases borrowed freely from languages scattered across the port towns that, taken together, formed the smugglers’ argot that Killian had used for his livelihood for nearly two centuries.

  Someday, there will be a person who is worthy to hold that power and not let it darken their soul.  The power is a weight, but love can help--if the heart is ready to be free.

  His blood turned to ice as he read the words.

Killian had heard those words before.

  Suddenly the library was full of people.

No--not people.  Soldiers.

Armed soldiers, with Arther at their head, still smiling his fake, practiced smile, and Killian put his hand on Henry’s leg, willing the boy to be still.

  “How can I help you, Your Highness?”

  --

  “Fire the blade.”  Nimue’s whisper, finally, out loud.  “Be free of your fear--your actual fear.  Because you’re not afraid of losing.  You’re not afraid of dying.  But an orphan --” the word twisted in the wind--”an orphan will always be an orphan.”

  Nimue pointed down and Emma felt it, the command--the invitation--in her left hand was the sword and in her right hand was the dagger--

  “Now then, Savior,” Nimue went on.  “Go ahead.  Light the flame.”

  -- and as Emma lifted her arms to join them together the leather pouch tumbled to the ground and spilled its contents.

A ring, and a chain.

  (I love you.)

(Remember who you are.)

(You are enough.)

  “No,” Emma whispered, then:  “NO.”

She threw the blades down to the ground and bent to pick up the ring and felt a rush of certainty--of warmth, of love, of the echo of Killian’s voice saying her name, soft, lovely, loving .

The power inside of her burst to life and Emma saw the flash of pale skin under her robes and she saw them, saw the sparkles starting to fade.

  She, Emma Swan , was the Savior.

She, Emma Swan , would vanquish the darkness.

That’s what heroes did.

Whatever price there was, it was not Killian’s to pay.

  (Fire the blade.)

(Be free of your fear. )

But--finally--she wasn’t afraid.

  --

  “Where is it?”

“Where is what, Majesty?”  Killian shifted so that he was just slightly in front of Henry as he spoke.

“Do not play with me,” Arthur snapped, and his facade dropped completely.  “My birthright, my destiny.  My sword.”  He bent forward, menacing, leaning toward Killian.  “I know you have it.  Give me Excalibur.”

  --

  “Oh.”  Nimue smiled and started to walk a large circle around Emma, her voice one again amplified as it ricocheted between the boulders. “Tell me, Savior,” and her voice was silky, inviting, “tell me how this will play out.”

  Nimue came to stand before Emma once more, closer now, a step away from both blades where they suddenly stood upright in the grass and made Emma’s hands itch.

“Tell me how this will end.”

Emma blinked and the blades were in her hands; she held the tips just far enough apart to keep them from touching and looked Nimue in the eye.  “You’re trying to trick me.”

  “Am I?”  Nimue smirked, and something stirred within Emma, an instinct, a--

Superpower.

With a scream Emma touched the blades and turned around and there, there , on the rough-hewn altar a flame sprang up, roaring blue and yellow and green--

  --

  “You have it,” Arthur spit.  “It was prophesied she would bring it.  Merlin prophesied it.  He promised that sword would be mine .”

And with that, every soldier in the room drew their own.

  --

   “Stop me if I’ve got this wrong--” and just for an instant, her voice was Emma’s again “-- You still think this is about sacrifice .  You still think magic comes at a price.”  

  With everything she had Emma channeled the magic through the blades, instinctively drawing on the power of the Flame.

  “But what about the price of inaction?”

Nimue snapped her fingers, and there was the library , a vision between the stones so clear that Emma felt as though she could walk right into it and Nimue’s voice was in her ear and she said, “ This is how it ends, Emma.”

  And inside a battle was raging--a deafening, discordant symphony of blades--and there was blood, so much blood , and there was her son and Killian, Killian , outnumbered and outmatched and Emma held up the dagger and the sword and she watched--

  --as Killian parried and twisted, felt a hand give, felt a sword fall, and leapt onto a table as he scrambled for a better vantage point, for Henry , where was the lad--

  --watched as the blades melded together--

  --heard Henry, finally, suddenly, yell “No!” and instinctively Killian threw himself sideways, and over, and down and in front of the boy (Milah’s grandson, Bae’s son, Emma’s son--his son?) just as the blade connected with flesh--

  “No!”  Emma screamed it this time, beaten, broken, and

“Yes,” Nimue whispered, close, so close now , and the word bounced around the inside of her head.  “And this is all you will be for the rest of your life.  Alone. ”

  And Emma could do nothing but stand frozen and watch, watch as steel cut through skin; deadly, unforgiving as it cut through bone and sinew and organ, watched as the red blossomed across Killian’s abdomen, as he fell to his knees, but he’d promised,

he’d promised

  (I told you, Swan, I’m a survivor.)

(I love you)

(Here, and now, and always)

(We’ve already had more time together than we were ever meant to)

  “Fire the blade,” Nimue murmured, a caress inside of Emma’s skull.  “Be free of your fear.”

  --and the flames danced and the blades melded, whole and rejoined--

  “You don’t have to be alone, Savior.”

(Eternity is a very long time.)

  --and white-hot as the fire carved new letters into the steel--

(You can make a choice.)

  --spelled another name--

  --KILLIAN JONES.

  (You should have left the sword alone, Emma.)

  --

  Killian inhaled, deeply, waiting for the signs of his injury to manifest.

It didn’t hurt.

When he inhaled, he could taste the thickness of the air and the way it was underlaid by the metallic scent of blood that covered his clothing, his blade, his surroundings.

But it didn’t hurt, his injury.

  Killian shook his head and turned to Henry.  “Are you all right?”

“LOOK OUT!” Henry yelled and pulled Killian down beside him just as a blade buried itself behind them and Killian saw Henry, his eyes large and scared, and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Stay down, lad,” he said, removing his hand and re-grasping his sword.  “No matter what happens.  Stay down.”

  And then he got up, adjusted his grip.

It didn’t hurt.

There was no pain.

No fear.

No doubt.

Killian smiled.

The knowledge of the power was inside of him, as instinctive as how to breathe or how to think and he reached for it and felt it uncurl and felt its readiness to be put to use.

To be unleashed.

  The first blast was violent enough to stagger everyone in the room and the melee recommenced; a flick of his wrist--of his will--and he was on the table again, heightened vantage, not that it mattered.  The vaunted Knights of the Round Table were helpless before him and for several long, endless minutes, there was nothing but battle.

Nothing but battle and blood and the feeling of his sword slicing, cutting, rending limb from limb.

Nothing but the steel of his hook rending flesh and bone and muscle and tendon, and it was good, and right, and the power was happy because that’s what the power had been made for, the taste of carnage and the endorphins of victory, and he didn’t hear the voice calling him, the childish, angry, worried, broken voice calling “Killain” until he stood triumphant amidst blood and bodies and saw the shocked eyes of Henry and the smile faded.

  Dimly, he became aware of a commotion, of Snow White and the Evil Queen as they burst through the doors and stepped over the corpses of the fallen Knights as they came looking for Henry, and for him.

  Killian frowned in confusion, his hand and his hook raised in front of his face as his sword clattered to the stone floor, and he stared at them as though he had never seen them before; at the raised pattern of his skin, and the way it was overlaid with tiny sparkles.

  --

Henry was not afraid of the dark.

But it was very, very dark; he could see nothing but the faint outline of glowing metal in his mother’s hand, a muted blue that just barely lit the wooden floorboards.  There was nothing else in the darkness, just a sense of space and calm and quiet--except for the glowing sword, which was, well, it wasn’t not scary, that was for sure--and then suddenly there was a swish and--

Light.

  They were at the mansion, which didn’t seem possible, but there were the same wall sconces lighting the warm dark wood.  The faint glow of the sword remained, it did not change or brighten or diminish and Henry might have preferred it in the dark.  He saw the exact same expression of confusion on each face across from him and could feel his own disorientation in the way his forehead crinkled.  His grandmother’s eyebrows were drawn together and Regina’s lips were a thin line and Emma--she had no expression at all.  She was tense, and her hand was tightly gripping the glowing sword.

She had eyes only for Killian.

  Killian was pale and drawn and the muscle in his jaw was throbbing and his hair was standing on its ends and his skin glittered.

Like his mother’s, like his grandfather’s in the drawings Henry had seen in his storybook.

Blood was still dripping off his hook and his clothes were soaked.

In blood.

Oh, shit .

  “Where are we?” Killian’s voice sounded low and raspy and wrong.

“This looks like the sorcerer’s mansion,” Regina said, “but how can we possibly be in Storybrooke again?”  Her eyes narrowed as she looked from Killian to Emma and back again.  “Not even Dark Ones can just travel between the realms at will.  Not without a portal.”

  It took a minute for her words to register in Henry’s ears and he was pretty sure he was the only one who noticed what she’d said:  Dark Ones.  

Plural .

  Mary Margaret walked over to a window and pulled back a curtain but all Henry could see was trees.  Densely growing woodland trees that could have been the Enchanted Forest or the woods around the Merry Men’s encampment, for all he could tell, but Mary Margaret saw more than he did.  “We didn’t traverse realms,” she announced.  “We’re definitely still in the Enchanted Forest.”  Her brow furrowed.  “How can this mansion be in the Enchanted Forest and in Storybrooke?”

“Emma.”  Regina’s voice was sharp  “What destination were you thinking of when you magicked us away from the castle?”

Emma shrugged, as if it didn’t matter.  As if none of this mattered, and she couldn’t bring herself to care.  “Somewhere safe,” she said.  She was still watching Killian.

  A thought struck Henry.  “Maybe this mansion isn’t part of any realm.  Or--maybe it’s part of all of them.  Maybe it’s outside of time and space, I mean--we used it to get to New York and Elsa and Anna went back to Arendelle.  It could be a--”

  “Killian?”  Mary Margaret had turned white as a sheet.  She stepped forward, gingerly reaching for Killian’s midsection, and Henry saw that the shirt was sliced clean through.  It was a long jagged tear that left the hem of the shirt hanging literally by a thread.  The entire side of it was black with blood and that was when Henry noticed that it was stiff and dried and carried down to his trousers--to the knees.  When Killian took a step back to avoid Mary Margaret’s touch, his shoe print was bloody.

“What is this?”  Undaunted, Mary Margaret took another step forward and once again stretched her hand, as though Killian was one of the birds in her birdhouses, and this time he let her lift the shirt.

Henry gasped as Mary Margaret’s eyebrows went clear into her fringe.  Regina’s lips were pressed so tightly together he almost couldn’t see them until she turned around and looked at Emma, at the sword in her hand--

“What did you do, Miss Swan?” she demanded, and that’s when Henry noticed for the first time that the sword was whole, unbroken, just like Killian’s skin, and it was still glowing.

  Emma just stood there, unmoving, upright, looking at Killian as if they were the only two people in the room or maybe in the universe.  There was fire in her eyes and her pupils looked different--all of her looked different.  Henry moved toward her slowly, mirroring his grandmother’s gentle movements as he reached for the sword, carefully grabbing its twisted tip and pulling it up to the light.  He could feel Mary Margaret and Regina watching him, silent and still.

There was a fading edge where the dagger had been molded to the broken sword blade and the glowing was coming from the ornate carvings encasing the letters that spelled out EMMA SWAN.  

But they were not the only letters.

Above her name and slightly to the side, in the same writing, encased by the same engravings, was another name:

  KILLIAN JONES.

  Time slowed to a near standstill.  The only sound was Henry’s own ragged breathing.  Finally, Killian spoke.

“Emma?”  It was a growl.  “What did you do?”

“What I had to,” she said.  Her eyes glittered.  “What was necessary.”

If Killian’s voice was a growl, then Emma’s was almost a low hiss, careful and quiet and emotionless.  He took a step closer to Emma.

“You had to what ?”  The menace in his voice was unmistakable.  It was Captain Hook giving orders and expecting obedience, but relishing the punishment he might mete out if his demands were not met.  There was danger there, danger and power , and it was so thick Henry felt as though he could cut it with--a sword.

Emma shifted and the movement forced Henry to let go of the sword tip he was still holding and that was when he noticed that Killan’s sword was back in his hands, is if he had conjured it there, unsheathed and still smeared with blood, its tip leaving a path on the floorboards as he advanced on Emma.

  Emma brandished Excalibur.  “Killian, stop ,” she said.

And he did.

Henry could see the magic rippling through his skin as he chafed against the command and so could Emma, because her face--for the first time--showed actual emotion.

Remorse--and just a hint of fear.  She looked like she had been slapped.

Henry had never seen his mother’s face look like that before.

“I saved your life,” she said.  It was a whisper, and it did not sound convincing.  She lowered the sword, slowly.

  But she shouldn’t have.

Quick as a flash, Killian was in her face, his voice cold fury as he nearly spat.  “My life?” he said.  “You did this?”

“I did this for us, Killian.  For you and for me and for us .  So we could be together.”  Emma lifted the sword again, just in time to block a blow--there was a sharp clang as Killian parried and Mary Margaret yelled “STOP IT” and Henry felt Regina yank him backward by the collar of his shirt--

  And then the faint blue glow around Excalibur exploded.

  There was a rushing sound, like wind down the side of a mountain, and the blue light expanded outwards.  It glowed brighter and brighter and Emma and Killian were both rooted to the floor, fused at the point of their connected swords.  The mansion buckled, folding in on itself, and it almost threw Mary Margaret across the room before she managed to just grab a curtain and hold on.  The energy kept growing and it was bolts of lightning and deafening cracks as the sconces flickered out and it was, again, dark.

  (Henry was not afraid.)

  --

--

  He’s terrified.

He blinks, trying to clear his head, and he notices it isn’t dark any more.  Henry looks toward the only source of light, a streetlamp.

A streetlamp outside the window where Mary Margaret is still clutching the curtain, a streetlight that Henry has seen almost every single day of his life.  The blue glow is gone and Regina’s grip on his shirt relaxes.

“I think we’re back in Storybrooke,” Henry says.

  And then Killian laughs.  It’s a terrible sound that strikes terror--real terror--into Henry’s heart, because the only person he has ever heard laugh like that is his grandfather.

Not the Charming one.

Killian gestures at his tattered clothes and with a mocking bow he says, “May I?” as he snaps his fingers.  There’s red smoke and Killian, all in black:  leather trousers and boots, a fitted waistcoat and a new leather jacket with a high collar.  

Even his jewelry is black, from his rings to his charms to the stud in his ear.

“It’s not a Charming family outing until there is a wardrobe change,” he says.  “Isn’t that what you said, milady?   That I’m part of the family?”

  Mary Margaret shrinks backward and Killian smirks.  “Worry not, Your Highness .  I’m a free man now, free from your pretty blonde distraction of a daughter.”

  “Killian--” Emma says.  “I made a choice.  You would have done the same.”

And Henry knows, he knows , that whatever Emma is saying is the absolute wrong thing to say even before Killian cuts her off, hatred so thick in his voice that Henry can taste it.  “Actually, no .”

And Emma can’t hold his gaze.

And Henry sees his grandmother flinch.

“I was willing to die for you, Swan.  I was going to give my life to save you.  Because it was the right thing to do .  The heroic thing.  Because I respect your choices.  Because I could not destroy this family.  Because I believed in you, Savior .  Perhaps you should have considered that before you--”

  “I couldn’t lose you,” Emma says.  “You know that I could never lose you.  You promised .”

“So instead of letting me go, you’ve tethered me to your darkness?  Forever?”  Killin walks up to her, puts his hook squarely over her chest, over hear heart, and Henry shivers.  “I don’t know if it’s ever occurred to you, Swan, that I’ve already lived a very long time.  I was ready .”  His hand brushes up against her cheek and his voice softens.  “I was going to save you.”

“You were trying to fix me,” she says.  “I don’t need saving.”

“Aye, the only one you saves you is you , is that it?”  His laugh is quieter this time, but no less terrible.  It’s full of bitterness and anger.

  No one answers.  Henry feels glued to the floor and all he can do is watch--it’s like a slow-motion trainwreck and there is nothing he can do to stop it.

  “Well, the joke’s on you, darling.  If it’s forever you want, I’ll give you forever--an eternity of misery , because that is what you’ve bestowed upon me.”

Killian steps backward, slowly--one step, and then another--and drops into a fighting stance.  He snaps his fingers again and his sword is back in his hand.

  And it’s weird , so weird , to see Killian with magic.

Henry almost wishes he could close his eyes and pretend it’s all a nightmare.

Which it is--only he’s awake, and this is real.

  “What do you want?” Emma’s voice is barely above a whisper.  “What are you going to do?”

“I want to hurt you,” Killian says, and he smiles again.  “I want to hurt you, like you’ve hurt me.”

He lifts his blade.

  “Enough .”

  Both of Regina’s hands are raised and for an instant, everything is frozen.  Henry’s not sure if it’s magic or the sheer Evil-Queen-ness of her voice, but it works--and that’s something.

  Killian’s head is cocked, as though he is listening to a voice only he can hear--or so Henry thinks.

“The darkness doesn’t care what you want,” Emma says, and it’s as if she is answering a question.  She’s not moving, her eyes once again focused on Killian as though there is no one else in the room.  “It only cares what it wants.”

“As long as I get what I want, I don’t give a damn about the rest,” Killian says.  “And you, of all people, should understand that.  Who would have guessed, Swan, that back on that beanstalk--I was the one who was wrong about you ?”

  Henry’s sure he isn’t breathing.

He’s sure that none of them are breathing.  

  Killian moves, just a single step forward, and Regina’s spell is broken.

But Killian’s words are their own kind of spell.

“You’re so afraid of losing the people you love that you push them away.  That’s why you’ll always be an orphan.  You don’t need some villain sweeping in to destroy your happiness--you do that quite well all on your own.”

  With each word Emma flinches.  It’s just a flicker of her eyelash, but Henry knows his mother and the way she get when she wants everyone to think she is okay but really, she is the opposite of okay.

  “Ten hours, Swan,” he says.  “Seems fitting, doesn’t it?  Ten hours until the full moon.”  He closes the distance between himself and Emma, he shifts his head, angling it so that their eyes are level and there’s barely an inch between them.

He bites his lip.  “Welcome to eternity, love,” he breathes.

With another snap, he’s gone.

  --

  Mary Margaret spares no thought for the nature of immortality of Dark Ones, has no understanding of the magic that compels Killian when Emma commands him; all she sees is her daughter turn against the man she loved, the man who had been ready to lay down his life for her.  She sees Killian, this man who had become her family out of his determination and strength to conquer his demons, to prove his love and his loyalty and his honor , hurl insults like weapons with the intent to do damage, each one cutting into Emma’s flesh as surely as if they had been arrows.

And then he’s gone.  There’s a puff of red smoke and it’s only the four of them, this strange little family that, perhaps, should never have existed but is the very bedrock and foundation of Mary Margaret’s world.  There are footsteps behind her--running, familiar--and there is her husband, breathless.  

“Grandpa!” Henry runs straight for him like he hasn’t done since the first curse, as though he is a scared child again who just needs the comfort of someone’s arms around him.  Emma is stock-still, unmoving since Killian left; Regina watches Henry, but her focus is elsewhere.

“Miss Swan.”  Regina’s voice could freeze fire.  “What did you do?”

“I made a choice.”  The words are simple but the weight of them is something that Mary Margaret feels on her heart.  Emma’s eyes are narrowed and focused.  “I made a choice to protect what I needed .”

“I would say that you chose poorly, but that would seem like a massive understatement.”

Suddenly there is emotion in Emma’s face--detached, wrong , but it’s there--and she says, “You’re going to lecture me about life choices, Your Majesty ?  When your choices are the reason we all ended up here in the first place?  When I saved you from--”

“Emma.”  Mary Margaret speaks softly and Emma whirls on her.

“No, mother , she made a choice, and you made a choice, and I ended up here, alone.  For twenty-eight years.  And now you’re going to care?  About her ?”

There is nothing like watching your daughter, the baby you had to give away, the girl you never got to see grow up, the woman you’ve done your best to get to know--to love --lift a jagged blade out of a legend and use it against the love of her life.  And Mary Margaret knows in that moment that no matter how hard she tried, how much she’d hoped, how much they’d built between them--it hasn’t been enough .

That Emma still sees herself as that little Lost Girl, and that hurts.  It’s a small hurt on top of all of the others and it’s nothing compared to Henry when he says, “You didn’t have to do this.”  Mary Margaret can see it written all over his face:  He’s crushed .  “Killian found a way, he had a plan--”

Emma is agitating and snapping when she says, “He was going to die , Henry, don’t you understand?”  

Henry shrinks back, Regina pulling him close against her.

“It wasn’t your choice to make,” Mary Margaret says.  Her heart might actually be breaking and her words are barely a whisper.

“And now you have to make it anyway,” Regina says.  “Emma, why didn’t you come to us--”

“I didn’t need you!” Emma screams.  “I had Henry, and Killian.  That is all I need. ”

“We were supposed to be a team.”  Henry’s angry now.

Emma’s face is impassive again and Mary Margaret looks at Regina, sees her stepmother looking back.  There’s fear on Regina’s face.

  “Emma, what is Hook going to do? What happens in ten hours?”  David looks clueless, upset and anxious. 

Ten hours.  Mary Margaret remembers.

“ That story didn’t exactly have a happy ending.”

  “How can we help?”  It’s obvious to Mary Margaret that David is restraining himself from reaching for Emma, to touch her, to comfort her.

“You can’t.”  Emma’s gaze lands on her father.  “He’s going to unleash the Darkness, untether it and release hell on earth  Tonight at the full moon.”

David is undeterred.  “Then how do we stop him?”

“We can’t,” Regina says.  Her voice is an incongruous mixture of understanding and horror.  “Only Emma can, and the only way for her to stop it is to kill him and destroy the Darkness.”

  “That can’t be the only way,” David says.

“It’s not,” Emma says.

David exhales, his relief visible until--

“I can make the sacrifice,” Emma says.  “I can contain the Darkness, and use the sword on myself to destroy it.”

  Emma’s eyes are like a stranger’s.  “One of us has to die.  It’s him or me.”

  Mary Margaret can feel the blood draining from her face.

“There’s no Saviors in this town anymore,” Emma says.

  --

  It pleases him to watch her.  It always has, for she is a thing of beauty; even now, sculpted by the Darkness, she radiates power and beauty.

It’s cold now, though, cold and broken and lifeless, and he did that to her and this also pleases him.

Hook watches her through the window, watches her shut herself away from her family , from the life and warmth and love she had so craved, and knows that he will take this from her, too.

  (Unleash the Darkness.)

(Seek your revenge.)

  It’s a voice both in his head and out loud, a voice that takes the shape of a woman.  Green skin sparkles from under a black hood and Hook knows her name.

“Nimue,” he says.  He raises his eyebrow and tilts his head.

“Do you think she will try to stop us?”  The voice changes, modulates.  It’s Emma’s voice and a vision of her stands before him--not like the one he watches but one of her as she used to be, in her red leather jacket and golden hair that he can still smell and smooth skin that he can still feel against his own if he closes his eyes even for a second.  His jaw twitches and he tamps it down, ruthlessly smothering the flames alight within him, the reaction of his body and his blood and his cock.

He still loves her--he still wants her--and the Darkness will not let him forget it.

“It matters not,” he says, turning away from the vision and back to the window.  “Whatever she does, I win.  Either Hell will be unleashed or I shall be free--of her, and of this .  I don’t need to kill her.”

“Now you care what happens to me?”  Emma’s voice again and he closes his eyes and feels her, feels them , can feel the softness of her lips against his and the silkiness of her hair in his fingers and when he opens her eyes she is still there.

“This is not who you wanted to be, Killian.”

Darkness and anger and pain and hatred, for centuries upon centuries.  He cannot withstand it and he is already too far gone and he will unleash it, destroy her , and force her to make a real choice.

“If you didn’t want me to change, you should have let me die.”

Force her to face the consequences.

“All of my life, everyone I loved abandoned me.”

“I didn’t.”  He spits the words at her.

“I know.  Im sorry.”  The words are brittle.  “I couldn’t watch one more person I love die.”

Villains don’t get happy endings.

“And now,” he breathes, “because of that, you get to watch everyone you love die.”  He steps forward, into her space, and he would swear he feels her breathing against him as he fights the urge to take her .

“I love you,” she whispers.  “Killian, I love you.”

“That man died in Camelot.  All that is left is what you made me.”

“This is because of me,” she says, and it’s exactly what he wanted to hear her say, to admit, to face, and it feels empty.  Hollow.  It echoes inside of him.

“It’s too late.”  He pushes her, surprised to feel weight under his hand, and raises his voice.  “It’s too late.  You should have trusted me, Emma.  Trusted me the way that I trusted you.”

“I’m not giving up.  Not tonight.  Not ever.”  She fades and he shakes his head.  

Hears Nimue behind him.

  (Unleash the Darkness.)

(Seek your revenge.)

  Hook looks out the window, where he can see Henry staring back, as if he knows .  “Enjoy this time you have left with your family, Swan.”

  --

  And this is how it ends.

  Emma meets him by the docks, along the shore.  She knows where that’s where he’ll be because she still--after all of this--knows him.  

“Well then,” he says.  His hair is greasy and untidy and his slitted-pupil eyes are bloodshot and his skin, like hers, glitters in the fading sunlight.

  She approaches, and she looks for it in his face--the man she knows, the man she loves --and it hits her, that she’s still never said the words.

Not really.

Not the way that he deserves to hear them, but it’s not him , it’s--he’s--something else.  Not Killian.  Someone who knows her, can read her, the way that Killian does but there’s the easy, careless casual cruelty of the pirate, and she did this .

  (In her dream, she whispered it to the tombstone.  “I love you,” her voice sounding battered and bruised and broken; she couldn’t tell if he could hear her, if he could see her, if she was even real to him.)

(If he was real at all--if either of them were.)

  Deep inside of Emma’s numbness, there is pain.

  (You can make the choice, Emma Swan.)

(You can follow the Darkness, or you can follow the light.)

  “Let’s see what you’re really made of, Swan.”  There’s no other warning before he’s moving to disarm her.  A steel blade swings towards her, the perfect marriage of heft and razor sharp edge and momentum, and is stopped in its path toward her neck by the steel in her own hands and the desperate brute force of muscle and will.

  “So this is how it ends.  Not with a whimper.  With a bang .”  

(And deep inside of her, something stirs; his voice and his affect and the easy way he manipulates words, making innuendo into a weapon.)

  Kinetic energy converts into potential energy with a literal bang, and she nearly staggers.

But not quite.  This will not best her.

  “How fitting.”  

  She pulls back her sword, and looks up at his face.  It’s contorted now, and unfamiliar.  This is pure rage unlike anything she has seen before.  

  (She did this.)

( She did this.)

  “How fitting that I will be the one to send you to meet your maker.”

She strikes a blow so fast he barely has time to parry.

Their hilts lock, bring her face up against his. She can feel his breath.  The pain inside of her gains strength.

  (She’d had a choice.)

(She’d had a choice, and she’d made it.)

  “I am your maker,” she hisses and even underneath all his fury, he flinches.  She steps back and drops into fighting stance:  Deceptively loose, coiled and ready to strike.

Just the way he taught her.

  (She’d made the wrong choice , she knows this.)

  “You’re going to hell,” he snarls, advancing.

She thrusts.  “I’ll save you a seat,” she says.

  You can make the choice, Emma. Eternity is a very long time. (She saw a tombstone.  Killian Jones.   And then--

Emma Swan )

You can follow the Darkness, or you can follow the Light.

  “Let’s finish this.”

  --

  There is comfort in his hatred.

  (You’ve fought the Darkness for centuries, Killian; you understand its nature better than most.)

(Perhaps there is a person who is worthy to hold that much power and not let it darken their soul.)

  Fool that he was, he’d believed in her.  Believed in her, in them , in the light she had brought into his life after centuries of darkness.  Yes, he understood the Darkness better than most.

It was the only thing that had never betrayed him.

  (The tests that you will face, Captain, will be greater than you can possibly imagine.)

  Killian watches as the metal arcs through the air at this woman he used to love, who had betrayed him and them and the light they had created between them, and it feels like contentment.  Like a destiny not written for him but by him.

He can feel them , too, the Dark Ones pushing against their tethers now that the blade has been fired and Excalibur is whole again, can feel them all straining against their bonds, begging to run free.

He can’t wait to free them.

He takes a step forward.

And another.

He’s playing with the sword--toying with it.  Toying with her, a raptor with its prey, and then--

It’s in her face, one smooth, deadly motion and a sword tip inches from her nose.

  He will snuff out that light--her light.  He will snuff it out and then watch as she loses everything she claims to love, as she loses the light, his Savior .  He will destroy the light that had led him to her, a Lost Boy just looking for a home.  

  “No home,” he spits.  “No warmth.  No family.  No hope , Savior.”

  He relents, stepping back.

“What’s left?”

  He will destroy the light that had led them to each other.  He will snuff out every bit of Emma’s light and he will watch her as she falls over the edge into complete darkness, where she has left him. 

  “I would have done this for you, Swan.  I would have done anything you asked .  I would have chained myself to the darkness, willingly given myself back to it, if you had asked me to.  Because I trusted you.  Because I promised you.  Because I loved you.  But, no.”

  He will watch her as she is forced to give up the notion that she is good and he will watch her break.

Not because she succumbed to Darkness.

Because she has no choice but to accept her utter absence of light.

  “I found another way.  Because that’s what heroes do.”

  Because she has no choice but to understand that there is no using her power for good.

  “You never asked me what I wanted.”  His voice was a hiss.  “You never asked me what I would be willing to give.  You just took .”

  There is only Darkness.

Darkness, with no promise of light.

Love was a weapon.

  “I never asked for any of this!”  It’s a scream, and Excalibur nearly rips the sword from Killian’s hand.  Her eyes are large and full of rage and fear and yet they are shuttered, closed to him for the first time since they’d met.  “I was taken from my parents and ignored for twenty-eight years.  My son was raised by someone else and he shows up at my door and gives me a mission, he tells me it’s my fucking job to save everyone and you know what?  I did.”

  She’s meeting--matching--every single one of his attacks with her blade infused by her power and the power of every Dark One since the beginning of time.  She is feeding power to the line of Dark Ones clamoring at the power of her blade as if she’s holding a belay line.

  “But here’s the part they left out, lover :  Evil never rests, never gets vanquished, never really loses and it’s just you against the goddamn universe, saving everyone over” -- clang -- “and over” -- clang -- “and over again until everyone dies and all you get in return is to be alone.  Forever .”

  Emma’s sword is against his neck, and the gesture is nearly useless, locked as they are in immortality, and he’s--

  “At least you got to decide what kind of man you wanted to be!”

  With a roar she spins and feints left and he follows her, parries her feint, and she twists up and to the right and there, her blade connects, and there is pain.

He’s bleeding.

  (Remember the nature of love.)

It glints in the last rays of the dying sunlight and he sees it:  Liam’s ring.

  No matter what.

I am here.

With you.

Always.

  His blade comes down her left side and tears part of the sleeve from her jacket, and he can see the skin underneath. 

And it looks like skin .  Normal, human skin.  The sparkles are fading, nearly gone, and then--

  The tests that you will face, Captain, will be greater than you can possibly imagine.

  She lifts her chin.  It’s a small movement, one nobody would notice if they did not know her face well.  If they did not know her face better than their own heartbeat.  Killian knows her face, every inch of it, has catalogued every twitch and flutter and wrinkle and he knows what this means.

Emma’s chin-lift is a powerful tell, and he knows it, knows it better than the boards of the Jolly Roger , and it means one thing, and one thing only.

  Remember the nature of love.

Love is giving someone the ability to destroy you--and trusting them not to.

Perhaps there is a person who is worthy to hold that much power--

  Emma has made a decision.

   --and not let it darken their soul.

  He falters.

  --

  “Fight it.  You can choose Light over Darkness.”

Merlin’s voice, disembodied and far-away.

“The power is a weight on the soul.  Love can help.”

  Killian’s in bed with her, all blue eyes and scruff and warm fingers whispering across her skin.

“I thought I lost you.”  His voice is scratchy.

(She was cold, but she could not see her breath.)

  “Darkness takes hold of a person,” Merlin says.  “Is your heart ready to be free?”

  Killian leans over, kisses her.  His lips are soft, and she melts into it.

“Don’t scare me like that again.  Please, love.  Please don’t.”

(She could have stopped it.) (She should have stopped it.)

  And Nimue’s voice is in her ear and she says, “ This is how it ends, Emma.”

  --

  Clang.

  A vicious thrust connects with Emma’s blade and sends her reeling, seriously off-balance for the first time since they started fighting in earnest, and she feels a small spike of worry.

What if this is not how it ends?

  She can feel them.

Power and Darkness in an unbroken chain through the ages.  Growling like hounds at the gate still locked.  But weakening.

They will break through soon.

She can feel them. 

She can feel.

  She cannot place it, but she knows--no matter what happens, he has heard her.

Because he will always hear her.

  Pain .  It shoots up her spine and steals her breath, excruciating as Excalibur reverberates from the sheer force of the blow and Emma feels--

  ( When I jab you with my sword you’ll feel it)

  Emma feels and she could almost cry from the relief of it.

But her body does not remember how to cry.  She can’t cry, just as she can no longer sleep, or eat, or feel true joy, but she knows that deep inside her empty heart, grief beats just as true as loss. 

  He does not pull his punches as the swords cross, a deafening clang as the curved blade and the straight interlock and she will not go out like this .

Not today.

Not ever.

  Neither of them will.

She will fix this.

Emma ducks his thrust, avoids hook, hand and sword as they seem to defy the laws of physics

Action and reaction

Equal and opposite

And with a roar she spins and feints left and he follows her, parries her feint, and she twists up and to the right and her blade connects with his arm and splits his jacket like tissue paper.

His jacket and the shirt and the skin beneath it and she has drawn first blood and she feels that, too, a hum in her veins and a buzzing in her mind as she watches it trickle with detached fascination.

  He can bleed.

She can feel.

It doesn’t have to end like this.

She can fix it.

(She can fix him .)

  Emma braces her feet and keeps pushing against Killian’s hilt while she wraps their tethers around Excalibur, binds them, binds herself, binds him, and she sees Killian’s eyes

Killian’s eyes

He is looking at her, that look in his eyes–soft and sad and knowing.  The eyes that have said I love you since long before she was ready to hear it.  They are windows to his soul and they’ve shown her everything, everything she ever wanted to have, everything she was ever afraid to want.

  He falters.

Power and fury scream down the length of the blade, and they are here.

They are here, and it’s time.

It’s time.

The Dark Ones are howling in her ears.

  Emma takes a deep breath and looks around:  at Henry, brave and honest and still so very full of faith in the goodness of people.  Her mother and father who made her the Savior even though their hearts had been broken by the choice and she realizes suddenly that they have been trying to atone ever since.  She should have forgiven them.  

There is Regina who looks straight back at her and knows and Emma feels something that might be relief at the knowledge that Regina will make sure that Henry never forgets who the real Emma was, that he won’t be alone, that he’ll have his grandparents and Regina and--

Killian.

  It’s time.

Emma pulls back Excalibur and twists the hilt, spins the blade.  It needs to align with the heart and she heaves and pushes and pierces the skin, down through her breastbone.

(It doesn’t even hurt.)

With the last of her strength she hurls herself at Killian, one last tearful goodbye; she is sobbing, sobbing , emotions so strong they are painful as they rush through her and she feels his lips on hers and lets gravity do the rest as they both fall to the ground.  There is screaming, but Emma cannot hear it; there is Excalibur, shoved clean through her heart and out the other side and she has made it right , now.

  I love you. I love you.

There is a pulse of warmth and light and energy and then--

There is silence.

  now i lay me down to sleep i will not scream i will not weep.

  if i should die before he wakes--

  Silence, and a sense of relief.

  --

  Mary Margaret tries to pull back Henry, who has yanked himself hard from Regina’s grip and stares at his mother, his mother , his eyes wide, his face pale, his eyes open.  She tries to pull him back and tells him not to look but Mary Margaret knows that he will see this no matter what.  There is nothing she can do.

She sees her daughter, the Savior , jab and thrust and draw blood.

  She can’t look at them.

And she can’t look away.

She can only watch as these two people who found themselves in each other, who found each other beyond the boundaries of space and time, destroy each other.  And then they fall and Mary Margaret is running, running --she’s crying, she is shaking from the emotion rolling through her but someone needs to be there--

  With the body.

She’s a mother, and she just watched her daughter --she might vomit, she might, and she feels David come up behind her, wrapping his arms around her--

  It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

It wasn’t supposed to end.

  --

  Her ears pop and her eyelids flutter as Emma opens her eyes and looks around.

She’s in the driver’s seat of her Beetle.

Inside a decrepit, run-down amusement park.

Alone.

[johnny69150]

Emma Stone 💖