#Hinges in United Kingdom

[tsff21]

With the epilogue now released, I can say confidantly that, yes, Ironwood WAS wrong.

His entire plan hinged on the belief that no one would come to Atlas' aid if word of Salem got out. That everyone would panic and fend for themselves. That's why he was so determined to flee into space so at least the Staff would be out of Salem's reach.

But now we know how wrong he was.

Ruby's message didn't cause panic or division. Its UNITED all of Remnant. Everyone, from all four kingdoms, working together to save their world.

All because one simple soul refused to give up her hope.

[dracula-dictionary]

Dracula Dictionary, May 7th

Hampton Court: a palace in London, built by Henry VIII in 1514

toilet glass: a mirror for a dressing table

London Directory: a list of people in businesses in London with the streets where they can be found

Red and Blue books: financial records for the United Kingdom

Whitaker's Almanac: a reference book about many topics like education, government departments, health and social issues, and the environment

Army and Navy Lists: lists of people who serve in the army or navy, including their names, ranks, and ships they serve on

Law List: a list of names and addresses of people who practice law, also includes information that's useful to lawyers

boyar: a member of the highest rank of the feudal nobility

"without his doors": outside

"I dare be sworn": I would bet

remissness: showing neglect or inattention

Bradshaw's Guide: a series of railway timetables and travel guide books

patronymic: a surname that comes from the given name of the father (here Dracula just means Jonathan's last name)

Quatre Face: French phrase that means "four-sided"

kodak: a pocket camera

gaiety: entertainments or amusements

voluptuousness: the quality of sounding or looking extremely beautiful

gay: happy

battlement: a low wall on top of a fort or castle, that has regularly spaced squared openings for shooting through

casement: a window that is attached by hinges at the side

malignant: evil in nature or effect, malevolent

saturnine: gloomy

preternatural: beyond what is normal or natural

[yoonavii]

𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐀

Gladiator Prince! Eustass Kid x Reader

Story description: Y/n, a skilled ice warrior from the frigid kingdom of Nosta, and Prince Eustass, a ruthless gladiator prince hailing from the enemy nation, the Modora Empire. Their two nations have a long history of conflict and animosity. However, when a dire situation calls for a political marriage to secure peace, Y/n and Eustass find themselves bound together in a union neither desires. As they navigate the treacherous path of diplomacy, they must confront their own prejudices and the weight of their peoples’ expectations. Through adversity and danger, the icy walls between them slowly begin to melt, and they discover unexpected connections and feelings, transforming their initial enmity into a deep and passionate love of the ages.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

In the heart of the kingdom of Nosta, the eldest members of each Nostian family engaged in a solemn tradition. With determined hands, they delicately unearthed buried vessels of fermented food from the snowy ground. The vases, each a repository of sustenance, had been carefully preserved, offering a lifeline to the families through the harsh winter months. This year’s harvest had been a challenging ordeal for the Nostians, as relentless snowstorms had battered the region without reprieve. The inclement weather had taken its toll on the land, making it nearly impossible to cultivate and gather food. As a result, the Nostian families found themselves grappling with the specter of scarcity, a challenge that tested their resilience and unity.

Amid the adversity, a glimmer of hope emerged from an unexpected source. The royal family and the council, recognizing the dire circumstances faced by their people, made a compassionate decision. They distributed a portion of their own supply of food to each family in the kingdom. This gesture of generosity transcended mere politics or duty – it was a lifeline extended from those in positions of power to those who struggled to secure their next meal. The significance of this act rippled through the kingdom. Families that had been grappling with hunger and uncertainty now found relief, their burdens temporarily lightened by the provisions provided by their leaders. The gesture carried a profound sense of solidarity, a reminder that even in the face of hardship, the Nostians stood together as a community.

as the snowy ground gave up its hidden treasures, you paced the length of the council room. The air within was thick with the wisdom of the elders – warriors, archers, and herbalists who held the weight of generations on their shoulders. Each one bore the scars of a kingdom’s struggles etched into their very beings. Restlessness gripped you as you grappled with the enormity of the situation. Your people’s history and suffering clashed with your own desires, creating a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The thought of uniting with someone from the empire that had caused so much harm was almost unbearable.

Turning to the council, you sought answers to the questions that consumed you. Your voice was a mix of determination and desperation as you posed the question that had haunted you, “Why must I go through with this marriage? How can we align ourselves with those who have brought us so much pain?” One council member, their face etched with the lines of wisdom, stepped forward to address your concerns. Their voice carried the weight of years as they explained the rationale behind the decision, “Princess, you ask a question that weighs heavily upon us all. Our land faces a dire predicament. The relentless snowstorms have stripped us of our harvest, and the specter of famine looms over us.”

With a steadying gaze, they continued, “The Modora Empire possesses the resources we lack – food that can sustain our people through the trying times ahead. We have negotiated a peace treaty, one that hinges on trade rather than conflict. In exchange for our medicinal herbs and remedies, they will provide us with the sustenance we so desperately need.” Their words resonated in the air, carrying both the wisdom of experience and the urgency of the present. The council member’s voice softened with understanding as they added, “This is not a decision taken lightly. We are bound by the duty to preserve our people and ensure their survival. The alliances we forge today lay the groundwork for a more secure tomorrow.”

As their gaze met yours, you felt the weight of their wisdom and the empathy behind their words. The complexities of leadership were clearer than ever – a delicate balance between personal convictions and the welfare of an entire kingdom. The path you tread was one that would test your strength, challenge your perceptions, and demand sacrifices that transcended individual desires.

——

In the dimly lit chambers of your quarters, you couldn't conceal your discontent. As maids attended to you, their delicate hands guiding you through the evening rituals, you grumbled softly under your breath. Tomorrow morning marked the beginning of your journey to a new life with the enemy prince, a path you had never envisioned for yourself. Amidst your private lament, one of the maids decided to break the tension. With a warm smile, she attempted to lighten your mood. "You know, Your Highness," she ventured, her voice gentle and reassuring, "that crown you received during your coming of age ceremony suits you beautifully. You'll look absolutely regal as you wear it."

Her words were infused with sincerity, an attempt to offer some solace to a princess burdened with the weight of duty and sacrifice. The crown, a symbol of your status and responsibility, held a unique kind of elegance that complemented your grace and strength. Your grumbling softened, if only slightly, as you regarded the maid's kind gesture. In this moment of uncertainty and apprehension, a glimmer of warmth and camaraderie emerged. The challenges of the road ahead remained daunting, but the bond between you and your maids offered a reminder that even in the face of adversity, there were those who would stand by your side. You offered a gracious nod to the maid, appreciating the effort to lift your spirits during this challenging time. As the conversation continued, you couldn't help but think practically about the upcoming journey. Turning to the maid, you inquired, "Will all of my belongings be taken with me on this trip?"

The maid's expression turned thoughtful, and she replied with a tone of caution, "I'm afraid not, Your Highness. For safety reasons, it's best to travel light for now. However, once you've arrived safely at the Modora Empire, arrangements will be made to have more of your belongings sent to you." The consideration for your safety was evident in the maid's response. You understood the necessity of traveling with only the essentials for the time being. The path ahead was fraught with uncertainties, and the decision to keep your possessions to a minimum was a prudent one. You knew that, in due time, your familiar belongings would follow you to the new land that awaited. One of the other maids, as she helped in preparing you for the journey, made a suggestion. “Your Highness,” she began tentatively, “perhaps you could consider taking either your axes or your bow and arrows with you for the travels.”

As the maid made her suggestion, she glanced at the collection of weapons in your room. There, hanging on a wall adorned with trophies from your archery competitions, were your finely crafted axes and your prized bow and arrows. You surveyed the weapons with a sense of nostalgia. Each had its own history, its own story of battles won and challenges overcome. The axes, with their polished blades and ornate handles, were symbols of your strength and determination. The bow, a work of art in itself, had accompanied you on countless hunting trips and had never failed you in times of need. The suggestion to choose one weapon over the other gnawed at you. They were both extensions of your identity, and you couldn’t bear to part with either. After a moment of consideration, you made your decision with unwavering resolve. “I will take both,” you declared firmly, your eyes locking with the maid’s. “Even if I have to be discreet about it.” The prospect of sneaking these cherished companions along on your journey added an element of intrigue and determination to the preparations. It was a secret pact between you and your weapons, a silent promise that no matter what challenges awaited in the Modora Empire, you would be ready to face them with the strength and skills that had defined you as the ice princess of Nosta.

—————-

In the grand corridors of the Modora Empire’s palace, Prince Eustass’s steps reverberated with frustration. His mood was as turbulent as the storm clouds that often shrouded his kingdom. He had stormed out of the council chamber, leaving behind the imposing presence of the council members and their unsettling decree. Grumbling beneath his breath, Eustass navigated the labyrinthine halls of the palace. The news that the council had arranged a political marriage for him, set to commence as early as tomorrow, gnawed at his very core. He had barely returned from his military campaign, bloodied and wearied from the battlefield, only to be thrust into a situation he vehemently opposed.

His steps echoed through the marble corridors as he brooded, his mind filled with thoughts of the impending political union and the implications it held for his future. The weight of responsibility and expectation bore down upon him, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of resentment. As he continued to traverse the palace’s opulent halls, Eustass couldn’t shake the feeling that his life was spiraling into a direction he had not chosen for himself. The clash between duty and personal desires waged on within him, leaving him to grumble and seethe as he contemplated the uncertain path that lay ahead.

Amidst the labyrinthine halls of the palace, Prince Eustass’s sharp eyes caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. He called out to her, his voice carrying a hint of urgency, “Roxane!” But the glare that met his gaze made it clear that Roxane was in no mood for pleasantries. The General’s daughter remained a picture of resentment, her eyes hard and unyielding. The words exchanged in the council room still hung heavily in the air between them, a stark reminder of the tension that had escalated during the meeting. Eustass hurried to close the distance between them, his voice laced with a desperation to make amends. “Roxane, I promise you, I’ll find a way to override this political marriage,” he implored, his voice earnest and determined. However, Roxane’s response was anything but receptive. She maintained a cold demeanor, addressing him only with the formal title of “Your Highness.” Her words cut through the tension like a sharp blade as she declared, “I don’t care about the political marriage, or even you.”

Eustass was bewildered by her response, unable to comprehend the sudden change in her attitude. In a desperate attempt to understand, he reached out to grasp her hand, his voice softening with concern. “Roxane, what do you mean?” he asked, his gaze searching for answers. But Roxane didn’t linger. She pulled her hand away abruptly, her features frozen in a mask of resolve. Her words came out with a finality that left no room for negotiation. “We need to separate, Your Highness. Permanently. We can’t be together anymore.” With those words, she turned away and walked briskly down the corridor, leaving Eustass standing there, bewildered and hurt. The cold exterior she displayed masked the complex emotions within, and the decision she had just made had left both of them reeling, their connection severed in a heartbeat.

As Eustass stood there, his thoughts in disarray after Roxane's unexpected declaration, his loyal right-hand man, Killer, hurriedly caught up with him. Concern etched across his features, Killer asked, "Are you okay, Eustass?" But Eustass, consumed by a whirlwind of emotions, couldn't find the words to respond. Instead, he brushed off the question with a curt wave of his hand and a voice thick with frustration. "I need some time alone," he muttered, his gaze distant. "I'm going to my room, and I don't want anyone to bother me."

Killer could sense the turmoil within his prince, and he nodded in understanding, albeit with a hint of worry in his eyes. He watched as Eustass retreated down the corridor, his thoughts heavy with the weight of Roxane's cold rejection. The sudden turn of events had left Eustass reeling, and now he sought solitude to grapple with the emotional storm that raged within him.

—————-

As you entered your room, your gaze immediately searched for your journal. Among the few belongings you could take with you, this was one you couldn't bear to leave behind. While you would be living in the empire, you could at least document your experiences and thoughts in its pages. The journal, small and unassuming, held the potential to be a source of solace in the unfamiliar territory that awaited you. It was a private space where you could record your journey, your emotions, and the challenges you would face. Its pages were a repository for your innermost thoughts and a connection to the world you were leaving behind. With a sense of determination, you retrieved the journal and carefully concealed it within your chest binding wrap. It was a precious keepsake, a silent companion that would bear witness to the chapters of your life as you embarked on this unexpected journey, a small act of defiance against the constraints of fate. You offered Trafalgar Law a warm smile and gestured for him to sit, a silent invitation to a more casual conversation. He obliged, taking a seat at the end of your bed.

As he settled in, you let out a sigh, your expression turning slightly pensive. "Trafalgar," you began, your voice devoid of the formalities that usually accompanied royal conversations. "I must admit, I'm feeling a bit nervous about this journey to the Modora Empire. It's not just the political marriage, but the prospect of learning an entirely new way of life." You paused, your thoughts swirling with uncertainty. "I'll be expected to adapt to new traditions, new etiquette, and take on a role as not only the empire's new princess but as the future empress. It's a lot to take in, and I'm not sure what to expect."

As you shared your concerns with your trusted bodyguard, you couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability. It was rare for you to express your fears openly, but in this moment, Trafalgar's presence offered a comforting reassurance that you weren't facing this daunting journey alone.

Trafalgar Law listened attentively to your concerns, his reassuring presence a source of comfort. When you expressed your apprehensions about the journey ahead, he spoke with unwavering support. "Princess, you have my word that I'll be by your side every step of the way," he assured you, his voice filled with sincerity. "I will protect you, and if things take a turn for the worse, I'll do everything in my power to ensure your safety."

His words were a balm to your anxieties, but what he revealed next left you in a state of shock. "And there's something else," he continued, his tone grave. "I have an acquaintance, someone I knew from the Modora Empire." Your eyes widened in astonishment. You were well aware that communication with anyone from the empire, especially given the ongoing tensions, could be considered treasonous. The fact that Trafalgar had such a connection left you both surprised and curious.He went on to explain, "My acquaintance has already been sending scrolls of information about the empire via message birds. It's meant to give us a head start on what to expect, to help us navigate the complexities of the empire."

The revelation was both intriguing and unsettling. You couldn't help but wonder about the nature of this acquaintance and the valuable insights they might provide. Yet, it was a risky venture, and the stakes were high. As you processed this unexpected turn of events, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and caution, knowing that this connection might be crucial in the days to come.

©𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐈— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.

[ask-court-genshin]

Prepare to be swept away on a delightful adventure set in the enchanting waves of the Murmure Court. You're not in your waters anymore– instead, your sea legs stumbled into a land filled with vibrant characters and impressive dilemmas, all under the watchful eye of the whimsical Queen Furina.

Your journey home hinges on a contract you've made with a questionable "traveler" who had transformed you from a lowly hydro eidolon into a full-pledged human being. She shall grant you a wish and in exchange– you'll have find a man named "Aether" in the Home of Whispers and Laughs under 50 days (in-game time).

As you embark on your quest to find your way back home, you'll encounter a cast of colorful people, each with their own unique charm. The stoic and mysterious Count Diluc, who hides a secret love for romance novels, may surprise you with his heroic feats. If not, perhaps your tastes lie with the smooth and charismatic Lieutenant Kaeya, who harbors a questionable legacy beneath his charming exterior alongside Duke Wriothesley, who challenges you to uncover those truths. But of course, you can't wrap that party up as "complete" when there's the captivating Court Jester, Lyney, whose enchanting magic performances entertain not only the Queen but the entire kingdom and its seven states.

But it doesn't stop there! Beneath the layers of revelry, there are mutterings of discreet and unexpected alliances. Could Court Justice Neuvillette be more than just a figure of authority? Are there more allies beyond the capital? In Murmure Court, you'll navigate the United Kingdom of Fontaine– where laughter and romance intertwine– where there may be more people of interests than meets the eye.

Get ready for a trial as the oratrice and abyss royalties scales how much shape mere water droplets should have.

⚜︎⚜︎⚜︎ Ad astra abyssosque! ⚜︎⚜︎⚜︎

[officiallordvetinari]

I know you've all been waiting eagerly for it, and here it is: the first Wikipedia poll of the new year! Links and summaries below the cut as always.

On 29 September 1940, a mid-air collision occurred over Brocklesby, New South Wales, Australia. The accident was unusual in that the aircraft involved, two Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF) Avro Ansons of No. 2 Service Flying Training School, remained locked together after colliding, and then landed safely.

On 11 May 1812, at about 5:15 pm, Spencer Perceval, the prime minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, was shot dead in the lobby of the House of Commons by John Bellingham, a Liverpool merchant with a grievance against the government. Bellingham was detained; four days after the murder, he was tried, convicted and sentenced to death.

The Dorset Ooser (/ˈoʊsər/) is a wooden head that featured in the 19th-century folk culture of Melbury Osmond, a village in the southwestern English county of Dorset. The head was hollow, thus perhaps serving as a mask, and included a humanoid face with horns, a beard, and a hinged jaw which allowed the mouth to open and close.

The Ediacaran (/ˌiːdiˈækərən/; formerly Vendian) biota is a taxonomic period classification that consists of all life forms that were present on Earth during the Ediacaran Period (c. 635–538.8 Mya). These were enigmatic tubular and frond-shaped, mostly sessile, organisms. Trace fossils of these organisms have been found worldwide, and represent the earliest known complex multicellular organisms.

John Rykener, also known as Eleanor, was a 14th-century sex worker arrested in December 1394 for performing a sex act with John Britby, a man who was a former chaplain of the St Margaret Pattens church, in London's Cheapside while wearing female attire. Although historians tentatively link Rykener, who was male, to a prisoner of the same name, the only known facts of the sex worker's life come from an interrogation made by the mayor of London.

Norwich Market (also known as Norwich Provision Market) is an outdoor market consisting of around 200 stalls in central Norwich, England. Founded in the latter part of the 11th century to supply Norman merchants and settlers moving to the area following the Norman conquest of England, it replaced an earlier market a short distance away. It has been in operation on the present site for over 900 years.

Olive Elaine Morris (26 June 1952 – 12 July 1979) was a Jamaican-born British-based community leader and activist in the feminist, black nationalist, and squatters' rights campaigns of the 1970s. At the age of 17, she claimed she was assaulted by Metropolitan Police officers following an incident involving a Nigerian diplomat in Brixton, South London. She joined the British Black Panthers, becoming a Marxist–Leninist communist and a radical feminist.

Paul Palaiologos Tagaris (Greek: Παῦλος Παλαιολόγος Τάγαρις, c. 1320/1340 – after 1394) was a Byzantine Greek monk and impostor. A scion of the Tagaris family, Paul also claimed a somewhat dubious connection with the Palaiologos dynasty that ruled the Byzantine Empire at the time. He fled his marriage as a teenager and became a monk, but soon his fraudulent practices embroiled him in scandal.

The Royal baccarat scandal, also known as the Tranby Croft affair, was a British gambling scandal of the late 19th century involving the Prince of Wales—the future King Edward VII. The scandal started during a house party in September 1890, when Sir William Gordon-Cumming, a lieutenant colonel in the Scots Guards, was accused of cheating at baccarat.

In a protracted conflict during the Spanish colonization of the Americas, Spanish colonisers gradually incorporated the territory that became the modern country of Guatemala into the colonial Viceroyalty of New Spain. Before the conquest, this territory contained a number of competing Mesoamerican kingdoms, the majority of which were Maya.

[riveramorylunar]

The Avatar

Pairings: Older Fire Lord Azula x Avatar Reader x Kuvira Great Uniter, Mako x Reader (Engaged)

Warnings ⚠️: Arranged/Forced Marriage, Fighting, Fire, Lightning, Cheating(Not Really), Mentions of Burning & Electrocution, Blood bending & Forbidden Love

Pet Names/Nicknames: Dear, Darling, Sweetheart, Princess, ZuZu & Vira

Word Count: 1,853

The Avatar's Love

Things happen for a reason and you can't do anything to change it. Y/N never imagined that she would have become the next Avatar. She was born in the earth kingdom and she was an earthbender. She had trained every day & night for the past 13 years. All the elements had come easy to her which was a surprise. For the past 4 years she has lived in Republic City living in the air temple with Tenzin & his kids.

Y/N was training with Tenzin's kids on the training grounds. "Go easy on Us Y/N were not even close to the powers of the avatar" Jinora said and Y/N rolled her eyes as her and Jinora walked in circles. Jinora was the first to attack with her airbending. Y/N used her earth bending and made an earth wall. The others attacked as well and Y/N dodged all of their blows before using her water bending to knock them all down before using her earth bending to keep them on the ground. "Alright we give up" Ikki shouted and Y/N let the four of them go. Y/N smirks but stops when she sees someone walking towards them. "Ugh what's he doing here" Rohan said and the others agreed.

"Y/N sweetie how's training going" Mako said as he pulled Y/N into a hug before kissing her on the cheek. "It was good before you got here" Y/N muttered out the last part when Mako pulled away. "Mm that's nice I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date tonight and maybe we could have some fun after" he said and Y/N scrunched her face up. "Uh I actually have to be somewhere tonight sorry Mako" Y/N said and she whistled. "Oh uh that's fine maybe next time" he said as he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. A TigerDillo stopped beside Y/N a couple seconds later. She nudged Y/N's face causing Y/N to smile. "I should get going now I'll see you all later" Y/N said as she mounted her animal guide. "See you soon Y/N good luck" Jinora said and Y/N waved before telling Ruby to set off.

Y/N and Ruby arrived at their destination a couple minutes later and Y/N hopped off of Ruby. She patted Ruby and they both walked in the courthouse. "Go rest Ruby" Y/N said and Ruby rushed off to the back. Y/N made her way up the flight of stairs before walking through the halls. She stopped at a closed door when she heard someone talking on the phone. She twisted the doorknob before throwing the door open a little too roughly. "What the hell kno- oh Avatar Y/N" someone said and Y/N put the door back on its hinges before turning back around. "Councilman Bolin" Y/N teased causing the man to roll his eyes. "Where are they at" Y/N asked and Bolin pointed behind him. Y/N walked over and kissed his cheek before using her earth bending powers to move the wall.

She arrived in an underground room and looked around when she heard hushed voices. She snuck through the room and hid behind a bookshelf. She snuck around the bookshelf and threw herself into the closet out of the two women causing her to jump. She spun around and slammed Y/N against the bookshelf causing some books to fall on the other side. "Well this is a nice way to greet someone especially the Avatar" Y/N said as she looked up at the person. "Oh hello Princess" Kuvira sighed out before her lips twitched up into a smirk. Y/N's face flushed red causing Kuvira's smirk to widen. "ZuZu help me" Y/N whined out as she looked at the other black haired woman who just sipped on her hot tea. "Oh you can beat her you're the Avatar and plus you got yourself into this so" Azula said and Y/N frowned and was about to use her air bending when something clicked over her wrists pinning her to the bookshelf. She looked over to see metal keeping her from using her hands. "If you try to use your fire bending it's gonna set the whole place on fire so I wouldn't use that. On the other hand using your water bending would ruin the books as well" Kuvira said as she patted Y/N's cheek before stepping away. Y/N growled out as she stomped on the floor making the ground crack. Azula grabbed the tea pitcher and lifted it up so it wouldn't spill when the ground shook. "Watch the damn tea" Azula growled out and Y/N gulped. Kuvira let Y/N go causing her to drop to the ground. She stood up and brushed herself off before walking over to Azula and kissing her on the cheek.

"How much longer do you have until you get married to that boy" Kuvira growled out and Y/N sighed. "Can we not talk about that I just want to forget about him right now" Y/N said as she stroked her hand through her ash brown hair. "I know a few ways to get your mind off of him" Azula said causing Y/N to blush brightly. "Absolutely not" Y/N said and Azula raised an eyebrow as well As Kuvira. "What you don't want to fight against your two secret girlfriends" Kuvira said and Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "Oh that's what you meant" Y/N said as she rubbed the back of her neck. "Yes what else did you think we m- oh oh you thought about something dirty" Kuvira said and she laughed as she threw her head back. Y/N blushed even more and hid her face in her hands as Azula smirked. "Well we can do that too if you want I'm not against that" Azula said as she stood up and walked over to Y/N. Y/N squeaked when she felt Azula's strong hands on her shoulder. Azula squeezed them before leaning down and whispering into Y/N ear. "We could do both" she said her voice raspier than usual.

It was the day of Mako and Y/N's wedding and Y/N just wanted to get the day over with. "Honey you look beautiful" Y/N's mother said as she tightened the wedding dress causing Y/N to suck a breath in. She didn't smile as she looked at herself in the mirror. She didn't want to marry Mako she wanted to marry Azula and Kuvira but that probably wasn't going to happen after the wedding since Mako and Y/N would be going back to Mako's home city far away from Republic city. "Dear are you alright" her mother said and Y/N looked at her mother through the mirror before faking a smile. "Yes I'm alright mother I can't wait to marry Mako" Y/N said before she cringed on the inside. "Well you don't have to wait long you'll be married to him in a couple minutes" her mother said not hearing the sarcastic tone in Y/N's voice.

Mako and Y/N were standing at the altar facing each other while holding hands. "Mako do you take Y/N to be your wife as long as you both shall live" the priest said and Mako smiled at Y/N. "I do" he said and the man nodded before looking at Y/N. "And do you Y/N take Mako to be your husband as long as both of you shall live" he asked and Y/N gulped before looking around the wedding hall to see everyone waiting. She saw Jinora, Ikki, Meelo and Rohan looking at her. She looked back at Mako to see him still smiling. "I-" she was cut off when the doors to the wedding hall busted open. Everyone looked over to see Fire Lord Azula and Great Uniter Kuvira standing in the doorway. "Stop this wedding now" Azula shouted and Y/N looked back at Mako before pulling her hands away and stepping back. "Y/N sweetie what's going on" Mako said as he tried reaching for her but a wall of earth divided the two. The priest had jumped out of the way and everyone looked at Kuvira with eyes widened in shock. "This wedding is cancelled" Kuvira growled out and Y/N ripped the bottom of her wedding dress off before dropping it onto the ground. "Took you guys long enough I absolutely hate wearing dresses" Y/N growled out as she made her way towards the two women. Y/N stood in between the two women before turning around.

Before Y/N could stop it a huge fight started with Mako, Azula and Kuvira along with Y/N's parents. Y/N started shaking with anger and her eyes started glowing. "KNOCK IT OFF" Y/N shouted just as lightning struck Kuvira in the arm causing her to wince as she collapsed to the ground. Azula stopped and rushed over to Kuvira before helping her up after sending fire towards Mako. He nearly dodged it and it grazed his arm burning him. He shouted out in pain and Y/N's parents rushed over to him. Y/N floated back to the ground and walked over to the two women. "Are you two alright" Y/N asked and the two nodded. Y/N looked over at Mako before walking towards him. She stomped on the ground and the ground shook before Mako was pinned against the wall. Y/N's parents were shoved out of the way as well. She made her way up the small stairs before stopping right in front of him. "What's going on Y/N" he growled out and Y/N silenced him as her eyes glowed again. "Simple I never loved you it was an arranged marriage and I don't even like men my parents knew that but still made us get engaged" Y/N said as she clenched her hands into fists. "And those two women I love them with all my heart I've been seeing them ever since we got together" she continued causing Mako's eyes to widen in shock. "YOU CAN'T DATE WOMEN THAT'S JUST DISGUSTING" Y/N's father shouted causing Y/N to whip her head around. Y/N just smirked before she raised her hand up. His limbs started bending in weird ways causing him to scream out in pain. "You're the only two to think that in this whole room" Y/N said as her smirk widened. "Y/N darling stop it's not worth it" Azula said causing Y/N to snap out of it and drop her father to the ground. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm leaving with my girlfriends" Y/N said as she made her way to Azula and Kuvira. The three of them walked out and Y/N let Mako go before the doors shut behind them.

[mariacallous]

The world is embarking on a critical year for the future of democracy. Elections in India, Indonesia, South Africa, and the United States—to name just a few prominent countries headed to the polls in 2024—would normally be routine affairs. But many of these democracies are at an inflection point. Can the strengthening tides of polarization, institutional degradation, and authoritarianism be reversed? Or will democracy reach a breaking point?

Every democracy has its own particular set of characteristics. In each country holding elections this year, voters will judge incumbent governments on familiar issues such as inflation, employment, personal security, and a sense of confidence about their future prospects. But the foreboding that accompanies the world’s elections in 2024 stems from one singular fact: The uneasy accommodation between nationalism and democracy is coming under severe stress.

The crisis in democracy is in part a crisis in nationalism, which today seems to revolve around four issues: how nations define membership; how they popularize a version of historical memory; how they locate a sovereign identity; and how they contend with the forces of globalization. In each of these, nationalism and liberalism are often in tension. Democracies tend to navigate this tension rather than resolve it. Yet, around the world, nationalism is slowly strangling liberalism—a trend that could accelerate in a damaging way this year. As more citizens cast their ballots in 2024 than in any other year in the history of the world, they will be voting not only for a particular leader or party but for the very future of their civil liberties.

Let’s first discuss how societies set parameters for membership. If a political community is sovereign, it has a right to make decisions on whom to exclude from or include in membership. Liberal democracies have historically opted for a variety of criteria for membership. Some have privileged ethnic and cultural factors, while others have picked civic criteria that merely demand allegiance to a common set of constitutional values.

In practice, a range of considerations have guided the immigration policies of liberal democracies, including the economic advantages of immigration, historical ties to particular groups of people, and humanitarian considerations. Most liberal societies have dealt with the membership question not on a principled basis but through various arrangements, some more open than others.

The question of membership is increasing in political salience. The causes may vary. In the United States, a surge of migrants at the southern border has politically foregrounded the issue, forcing even the Biden administration to reverse some of its promised liberal policies. To be sure, immigration has always been an important political issue in the United States. But since the political arrival of Donald Trump, it has acquired a new edge. Trump’s so-called Muslim ban—even though it was eventually repealed—raised the specter of new forms of overt or covert discrimination forming the basis of a possible future U.S. immigration regime.

Europe’s refugee crisis—induced by global conflicts and economic and climate distress—is inflecting the politics of every country. Sweden has grown deep concerns about its model of integrating immigrants, ushering in a right-wing government in 2022. In the United Kingdom, Brexit hinged in part on concerns over immigration. And in India, the government of Prime Minister Narendra Modi will implement the 2019 Citizenship Amendment Act, which excludes Muslim refugees from certain neighboring countries from a pathway to seeking citizenship. For New Delhi, membership concerns are driven by the need to prioritize a large ethnic majority. Similarly, the status of migrants in South Africa is being increasingly contested.

The increasing salience of membership is worrying for the future of liberalism. Since liberal values have historically been compatible with a variety of immigration and membership regimes, a liberal membership regime may not be a necessary condition for creating a liberal society. One could argue that not having a well-controlled membership policy is more likely to undermine liberalism by upsetting the social cohesion on which liberalism relies. But it is a remarkable fact that many of the world’s political leaders who endorse closed or discriminatory membership regimes, from Hungary’s Viktor Orban to the Netherlands’s Geert Wilders, also happen to oppose liberal values. That makes it harder to create a distinction between being anti-immigration and anti-liberal.

The second dimension of nationalism is the contest over historical memory. All nations need something of a usable past—a story that binds its peoples together—that can be the basis of a collective identity and self-esteem. The distinction between history and memory can be overdrawn, but it is important. As the French historian Pierre Nora put it, memory looks for facts, especially ones that suit the veneration of the main object of recollection. Memory has an affective quality: It is supposed to move you and constitute your identity. It draws the boundaries of communities. History is more detached; the facts will always complicate both identity and community.

History is not a morality tale as much as it is a very difficult form of hard-won knowledge, always aware of its selectivity.

Memory is easiest to hold on to as a morality tale. It is not just about the past. Memory is a kind of eternal truth about one’s collective identity, to keep and carry forward.

Memories are increasingly being emphasized in the political arena. In India, to take the most obvious case, historical memory is central to the consolidation of Hindu nationalism. In January, Modi will open a temple to the god Ram in Ayodhya, built on the site where Hindu nationalists demolished a mosque in 1992. It is an important religious symbol. But it is also central to the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party’s narrative that the most salient historical memory for Indians should not be colonial rule by the British but a thousand-year history of subjugation by Islam. Modi declared Aug. 5, the day the foundation stone of the temple was laid in 2020, as being as important a national milestone as Aug. 15, the day of India’s independence from the British in 1947.

In South Africa, questions of memory may seem less pronounced. But the compromise of the Nelson Mandela years, which some now see as sacrificing economic justice for the cause of social solidarity, is increasingly being interrogated. Faced with continuing inequality, economic worries, and declining social mobility, many South Africans are questioning the legacy of Mandela and whether he did enough to empower Black people in the country. This reflects some disillusionment with the ruling African National Congress. But this reconsideration could also potentially redefine the memory in terms of which modern South Africa has understood itself.

In the United States, the contest over how to tell the national story goes back to the Founding Fathers. But debates around this are more politically visible than ever, with politicians from Trump to Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis basing their candidacies in part on what it means to be American and how to “make America great again.” Florida, for example, created dubious standards for the teaching of Black history, seeking to regulate what students learn about race and slavery. This is not just a contest over the politics of pedagogy; behind it is a larger, anxious political debate about how the United States remembers its past—and therefore how it will build its future.

The third dimension in the surge of nationalism is the contest over popular sovereignty, or the will of the people. There has always been a close connection between popular sovereignty and nationalism, as the former required the formation of the concept of a people with a distinct identity and special solidarity toward one another. During the French Revolution, inspired by the ideas of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, the popular sovereign was supposed to have a singular will. But if the will of the people is unitary, what explains differences? Furthermore, if there are differences among people, as there naturally are, then how is one to ascertain the will of the people? One way out of this puzzle is to see who can effectively perform the will of the able—and in doing so represent the other side as betraying that will, rather than as merely carrying an alternative interpretation of it. In order for such a performance to take place, one has to castigate anyone who represents an alternative viewpoint as an enemy of the people. In that sense, rhetorical invocations of “the people”—understood as a unitary entity—always run the risk of being anti-pluralist. Even when democracies around the world have embraced a pluralist and representative conception of democracy, there is a residual trace of unity that gets transposed to the nation. The nation is not a nation, or cannot acquire a will, unless it is united.

People rally around a unitary will by benchmarking their national identity: We are Indian by virtue of X or American by virtue of Y. Sometimes, this kind of benchmarking of identity can be quite productive; it is a reminder to citizens of what gives their particular community a distinct identity. Yet one of nationalism’s features is that it struggles to make room for its own contestation. The opposition is delegitimized or stigmatized not because it has a different point of view on policy matters but because its views are represented as anti-national. It is not an accident that the rhetoric of national populists is often directed against forces that are seen to challenge their version of the national identity or their benchmarking of nationalism. As national identities become more contested, there are increasing chances that unity can be achieved only by being imposed.

As a political style, national populism thrives not so much by finding enemies of the people but enemies of the nation, who are often measured by certain taboos. Almost all modern populists—from Turkey’s Recep Tayyip Erdogan to Modi, Orban, and Trump—draw the distinction between people and elites not in terms of class but in terms of who authentically represents the nation. Who gets benchmarked as the true nationalist? The cultural contempt for the elite gets its strength not just from the fact that they are elites but that they can be represented as elites who are no longer part of the nation, as it were. This kind of rhetoric increasingly sees difference as seditious rather than merely a disagreement. In India, for example, national security charges are deployed against students who question the government’s stance on Kashmir. This is seen not just as a contestation—or possibly a misguided view—but an anti-national act than needs to be criminalized.

The fourth dimension of the crisis of nationalism relates to globalization. Even in the era of hyperglobalization, national interest never faded away. Countries embraced globalization or greater integration into the world economy because they thought it served their interests. But a critical question in this year’s elections in all democracies is a reconsideration of the terms on which they engage the international system.

Globalization created winners but also losers. The loss of manufacturing jobs in the United States or premature de-industrialization in India was bound to prompt a reconsideration of globalization—and all of this was happening even before the COVID-19 pandemic, which accentuated a fear of dependency on global supply chains.

Countries are increasingly convinced that the assertion of political control over the economy—their ability to create a legitimate social contract—requires rethinking the terms of globalization. The trend is to feel more skeptical about globalization and to seek out greater self-sufficiency for national security or economic reasons. “America First” and “India First” are to a certain extent understandable, particularly in a context where China has emerged as an authoritarian competitor.

But the current moment seems like a much larger pivot in the politics of nationalism. Globalization, while seeking to advance national interests, also mitigated nationalism. It presented the global order as something other than a zero-sum game in which all countries could mutually benefit by greater integration. It was not suspicious of cosmopolitan solidarity. Increasingly, democracies are abandoning this assumption, with profound consequences for the world. Less globalization and more protectionism will inevitably translate to more nationalism—a trend that will also hurt global trade, especially for smaller countries that need the rising tide of open borders and commerce.

Each of the four features of nationalism described here—membership, memory, sovereign identity, and openness to the world—has shadowed democracy since its inception. All democracies are also facing their own profound economic challenges: inequality and wage stagnation in the United States, the crisis of employment in India, and corruption in South Africa. There is no necessary binary between economic issues and the politics of nationalism. Successful nationalist politicians such as Modi see their economic success as a means of consolidating their nationalist visions. And in times of stress, nationalism is the language through which grievance can be articulated. It is the means by which politicians give a sense of belonging and participation to the people.

Nationalism is the most potent form of identity politics. It views individuals and the rights they have through the prism of the compulsory identity to which nationalism confines them. Nationalism and liberalism have long been competing forces. It is easier to navigate the tension between them if the stakes around nationalism are lowered, not raised. Yet it is increasingly likely that in many elections in 2024, the nature of the national identities of these countries will be at stake along the four dimensions listed above. These contests could invigorate democracy. But if the recent past is any guide, the salience of nationalism in politics is more likely to pose a threat to liberal values.

Advancing forms of nationalism that do not allow their own meaning to be contested or that seek to preserve the privilege of particular groups generally produces a more divisive and polarized society. India, Israel, France, and the United States each face a version of this challenge. Issues of memory and membership are the least amenable to being resolved by simple policy deliberation. The truths they trade on are not about facts that could be a basis for a common ground. It is notorious, for example, that we often choose our histories because of our identity rather than the other way around.

Perhaps most importantly, assaults on liberal freedoms are often justified in the name of nationalism. For example, freedom of expression is most likely to discover its limits if it is seen to target a deeply cherished national myth. Every emerging populist or authoritarian leader who is willing to abridge civil liberties or pay short shrift to institutional integrity wears the mantle of nationalism. It allows such leaders to crack down on dissent by using the canard “anti-national.” In many ways, this year’s elections may well decide whether democracy can successfully negotiate the dilemmas of nationalism—or whether it will be degraded or crushed.

George L. Mosse, the great 20th-century historian of fascism, described this challenge in his inaugural lecture at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem in 1979: “If we do not succeed in giving nationalism a human face, a future historian might write about our civilization what Edward Gibbon wrote about the fall of the Roman Empire: that at its height moderation prevailed and citizens had respect for each other’s beliefs, but that it fell through intolerant zeal and military despotism.”

[exhaustedpirate]

parent for hire

finally back with a new chapter, the last one in Misthaven and it's a big one, guys! @kmomof4 is the most amazing beta i could ask for! thank you krystal!

Chapter Five - Misthaven (Part Three)

word count: 17,037 words 

rating: Teen and Up

tag list: @cocohook38 ; @bluewildcatfanatic ; @piraterefrigerator ; @sotangledupinit ; @booksteaandtoomuchtv ; @teamhook

read on AO3 | prologue | one | two | three | four | five (1) | five (2)

It was just as eerie inside as it was outside. 

The shards of mirror reflecting them as they walked made them even more uncomfortable now that they knew the Evil Queen was probably watching them. They tried to walk determinedly and unafraid, but he wasn’t sure if they were doing a very good job of that.

The fact was that as they walked towards the tall castle, they saw more and more of the destruction of Misthaven. The houses were still abandoned, no signs of life, an uneasy feeling surrounding them. Here and there he saw small animals - too small to notice outside the kingdom’s magical barrier - brave little creatures unwilling to leave their home, seemingly unbothered by any evil around them.

Killian pulled Henry closer to them as he saw the evident signs of struggle, of defeat - rusted pots and pans thrown haphazardly on the ground, makeshift weapons in a time of need, doors kicked in, broken windows and toys.

Seeing children’s toys forgotten on the ground hurt the most and made his resolution grow. His hand clenched around Henry’s even as he tried to calm his thoughts. He hoped they hadn’t noticed it yet.

Henry seemed focused on the castle, perhaps unwilling to think of anything else but their next step. Emma though, she noticed. Her eyes were breathtakingly sad, heartbreak in them for a home she’d never had. He saw resolution in them, a determination he knew had been in them ever since he met her.

He was glad for it. It made them an united force, ready for anything.

It was surprisingly easy to reach the castle gates. 

There had been no guards in the streets, nothing but silence. They hadn’t said a word since they crossed the walls, worried a sound louder than footsteps would trigger some alarm.

The gates were heavy, handcrafted but cracking, the years taking their toll on the wood. The hinges creaked as they all joined in their efforts to open them. Killian wondered how long it had been since they’d been opened.

“Where should we go?” Henry asked, whispering in acknowledgement of the silence around them.

They all quieted for a moment, waiting and wondering before taking a deep breath. Brave though they were, the silence was unnerving.

“Well,” Killian answered. “She thinks herself a queen, doesn’t she?”

“The throne room.” Emma nodded.

They all took a collective steadying breath as they stepped inside the castle. There was no obvious passage to the throne room, so they walked cautiously.

The destruction outside the gates continued inside. 

There were broken mirror frames on the walls, miniscule-sized shards on the floor beneath them. Every surface was covered in dust, spider-webs at the corners of rooms, many doors collapsed on the floor. There was also an air of handmade destruction in the broken vases and torn pictures. 

They entered a dining hall, where a battle had obviously taken place. There were chairs strewn around and some were broken, as if they’d been used as weapons. He wondered how long ago it was, as long rotted food still sat on the table. There must have been some type of preservation spell upon the room keeping the stench intact.  They left the room as quickly as they entered.

As they continued through the castle, he could feel the sparks of everyone’s nerves electrifying the air around them. He wanted to reassure them, think of a joke or comforting words but nothing came.

They stood outside a door now. It looked taken care of, used, and clean. A stark contrast to everything else in the castle. This had to be the throne room.

“Ready?” he whispered to his companions, letting go of Henry’s hand to grab his sword.

Henry shook out his hands, now both free, and Killian could see the sparks at his fingertips. He nodded. Emma did much the same. He watched as she rolled her shoulders and took a deep breath, but instead of focusing on her magic, he watched her take care to chamber an arrow in her crossbow and grab her sword.

Over the course of their journey, he had witnessed her coming around to her magic, becoming comfortable with it as she learned. To see her push it aside now in favor of physical weapons felt wrong, demoralizing almost.

Before he could ask, reassure or anything at all, Emma used her foot to throw the door open. Not wasting another moment, they rushed in, hoping to catch the villain by surprise.

Unfortunately, their plan was unsuccessful.

Standing in front of a set of hand carved thrones, stood a woman. There was a clear regal air to her, with the way she wore her crown and stood. But there was madness in her eyes, in her smile. Her clothing was exquisite, expensive fabrics and hand-sewn gems. 

Just like the castle, she had suffered the effects of time. Her hair was strikingly white in the middle of her dwindling dark hair. Her skin was less youthful, her features less defined. It was clear she had been a beautiful woman but her madness, her evil had burdened it far more than time ever could.

“Finally,” the Evil Queen exulted, her arms open and a wide bone-chilling grin on her face. “I have been waiting for you!”

Her words boomed in the silent room, shaking their bones. Turning slightly towards Emma, he saw the rage in her eyes. This was her parent’s killer, the reason she was left an orphan. To see the Queen so gleeful and nonchalant would infuriate anyone.

In a flash, Emma shot the arrow from her crossbow towards the Queen’s chest. They held their breaths as the arrow flew across the still air only to be turned into dust by a quick swiping motion of the villain’s hand.

“Really, Emma?” Her tone was annoyed but amused. “Are those the manners your parents taught you?”

The heat coming from Emma was intense, and he knew Henry could feel it too. Before either of them could make a move, before they could reach for Emma, before she could use the power they felt coming from her, a black dust blew in her face. They watched as Emma fell to the ground, unconscious. 

It happened too fast. No sooner had Emma hit the ground and Killian had looked around for the source, than he was being shoved to the ground. He felt hands and knees keeping his shoulders and waist trapped, his hand uselessly gripping his sword.

“Killian!” He heard Henry call for him and felt a sparking in the air, before it came to an abrupt stop.

Killian struggled to turn towards the boy, only to find him on his knees with some very familiar cuffs on his wrists. His struggle turned violent as he managed to roll away from the guard’s hold and swipe at one of their chests. His victory was short-lived, however. Two more grabbed his arms from behind, taking his sword and hook and forcing him to his knees.

“You fought well, Killian Jones.” His name from the Queen’s lips shook him to the core. He should have known she’d know who he was, who all of them were, but to hear it spoken with such casualness, was chilling. “But you are no match for me.”

He was being manhandled to kneel next to Henry, his wrists cuffed behind his back and two guards behind him, feet on his calves and hands on his arms and shoulders to keep him still. Henry was swaying now as he kneeled, sat back on his feet, a guard behind him.

“Killian…” he murmured weakly. Killian struggled to try and comfort him, to hold him, but the guards’ grip simply got tighter.

“What do you want from us?” Killian demanded.

She walked towards them, a sway to her step. She stood in front of him, his position on the floor making him look up at her. Her hands were on her hips and he glared at the victorious grin on her face.

“A little birdie told me about what you did in Oz,” the Evil Queen answered, her hand casually gesturing to the black framed mirror behind her, “and who wouldn’t want the power that the Heart of the Truest Believer possesses?”

Killian shook his shoulders, his need to protect Henry from her stare, from her thoughts, instinctive. A wider grin stretched the Queen’s face.

“It’s funny, I only wanted the Heart but you’ve basically brought Emma to me on a silver platter, as well.” She laughed to herself, her chuckle unsettling, unnatural. “I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get my happy ending.” 

He believed Henry. Killian believed him when he said that Cygnus was leading them to where they needed to be. He had understood it then and he understood it now. He wanted to fight with Henry and Emma by his side and win. But now, with Emma unconscious on the floor and Henry swaying in place, he cursed it all. Cursed their journey. The one that kept putting them in danger. And yet he still hoped. Hoped for a life in a cabin on a seaside cliff where they would be safe, away from any dangers.

“That isn’t…a happy ending.” Henry spoke from next to him, his voice weak even as he seemed to use all of his strength to look up at the Queen. “You can still…change.”

She looked at him, her grin never faltering. He watched her lean down in front of the boy, his heart pounding against his chest. It couldn’t end like this.

“Why would I want to change, dear?” The Evil Queen tilted her head, a mockingly confused expression on her face. “I’m about to get everything I ever wanted.”

“I already killed Snow White and her ridiculous prince.” Her eye roll didn’t diminish the satisfaction he saw in her eyes. “I’m about to kill their precious child.” Her hand grabbed onto Henry’s chin, bringing their faces close together. Killian’s struggle against the guards’ hold intensified, uselessly. “And then I’m going to rip your heart from your chest and make him,” she gestured with her head towards Killian, “watch before I kill him.”

The Evil Queen released Henry with a sharp movement, the boy almost losing his balance if it hadn’t been for the guard’s grip on his shoulder. She strutted a few steps away before twirling back towards them.

“So you see,” she held her arms open. “I’m about to get everything I ever wished for.”

Since he had met him, Henry had been a good child. He believed in the inherent goodness of people. The child believed there was good in him and Killian was the first to say that that belief is what made him want to change. But for all his wishes to protect Henry from his own belief, he hoped the knowledge that the Queen had no desire for redemption wouldn’t change him too much.

The Evil Queen’s expression changed to one of boredom as her gaze fell back on Emma’s unconscious body. “Take them to the dungeons,” she commanded, gesturing towards them.

As the guards’ lifted him by the arms, he wanted to call out to Emma, wake her up, hope she would be able to defend herself from the Queen’s sadistic plans, but there was a paralyzing fear coursing through his veins. For all their victories, were they going to fail now? Was the Evil Queen going to come out victorious? 

---

The disarray of the castle continued down towards the dungeon. Killian’s focus was on Henry and the way he could barely take a step and was essentially being dragged by the guard. He tried to free his arm from their hold only to receive a punch to his gut. 

The corridors were damp and dark and smelling of death. There was no shortage of decaying bodies and decomposed skeletons along the way. 

He never fancied himself a man of hope, but now, in this hopeless place, he wondered if perhaps it would do them good to hold on to some.

It wasn't long until they were shoved into two empty cells, side by side. As soon as his cuffs were removed, Killian rushed to the iron bars separating his and Henry's cell as the guards turned and walked away, leaving them alone in the dungeon.

"Lad! Henry!" he called when he noticed the slumped form of the boy. At his call, Henry raised his head slowly, tearful and frightened eyes landing on him.

"Killian, it hurts…" Henry moaned, his voice weak.

"I know, lad, I know." 

Luckily - as much as their situation could be called lucky - Henry's clothing was within Killian’s grasp. Reaching through and pushing himself against the bars, he grabbed the boy’s cloak, pulling the child closer to him.

It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions for either of them, but Killian pulled Henry into a seated position against the bars between them, the child holding as tightly as he could onto his arm. Killian wrapped both arms around the boy and Henry sighed in relief, making his heart clench in his chest.

From a far away cell, Killian could hear a giggle, as if someone watched their interaction and found it amusing. The sadistic glee of the laughter reminded him of a cold touch on his cheek, a proclamation of love, tears streaming down his face.

Henry's fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around his arms as the boy released an unsteady breath. With a shake of his head, Killian banished the memories, his focus on the lad restlessly slumbering in his arms.

"I'm sorry, lad…" he whispered, ignoring the pain of the rough iron against his face as he laid a kiss on the boy's head.

---

Her head was foggy. She forced herself to wake up. To remember where she was.

They were in Misthaven. They had just found the Evil Queen. Regina, her name was Regina, she was no queen. They- She couldn’t feel Henry’s energy. She couldn’t hear Killian. 

Her eyes shot open, a gasp forcing air into her lungs. She had to blink repeatedly to force away the clouds in her eyes. Even before looking around, she knew they weren’t there.

She clenched and unclenched her hands, trying to wake the rest of her body. The soft fabric at her palms surprised her. She had been standing in the front of the room when she had been knocked out. She looked down to find soft dark velvet. She was sitting on a throne, she recognised it as one of the thrones at the end of the room.

There was no perceptible weight over her head or her shoulder. Her hood was gone, her mask not bunched on her neck, her hair coming loose with the removal. She wondered what magic knocked her out for her not to feel it.

A glint of light caught her eyes and she looked up to find Regina standing in the middle of the room. She stood there with a patient expression, waiting for Emma to wake up. She wondered how long she’d been out. 

Then she saw it, the source of the light. Regina held a curved piece of metal in her hand. A hook. Killian’s hook.

“What have you done to them?” Emma demanded, ignoring the rough sound of her voice.

Regina didn’t move. The only clue that she had heard Emma was the grin on her face. “You should worry less about them and more about you.” 

Her body was still refusing to work. The only progress was in the way she could move her toes and flex her fingers. The Queen was probably right.

“What have you done to them?” Emma repeated, wanting, no, needing to know.

She thought of the way she and Henry had fought side by side in Arendelle, the way she felt Killian’s belief from across the field. She needed to know where they were.

“I put them somewhere safe,” Regina answered in a sickly sweet tone. “I couldn’t very well let the dessert escape while I’m busy with the main course.” Emma watched her lick her lips, like a predator stalking its prey, and an urge to run overwhelmed her.

“What do you want from me?” Emma asked, hoping to pass the time until her body responded to her urging. She didn’t know whether Regina planned for her death to be quick or if she wanted to drag it out. The older woman didn’t seem overly concerned with being disturbed before her plan was complete.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Regina’s face lit up in excitement. Emma held her breath when she made a swiping motion with her hand.

No attack came.

Instead, she watched as the dozen mirrors hung across the room showed an image of a young child, dark hair and green eyes with a bright smile. She didn’t recognise the child but there was something familiar about her.

“You see her?” Regina asked, keeping her eyes on Emma as she began to slowly stalk around the thrones. “She ruined my life.”

So, that was Snow White. Her mother. She could see the similarities. She could see how Johanna had recognised her.

“She killed the man I loved,” Regina continued. “She made me a villain.” Her voice came from behind the throne. “She got everything while I got nothing. Tell me, how is that fair?”

Emma wondered how long Regina had lived with these thoughts, how long until it had become the only truth she knew, and how long until it had consumed her. Her arms regained feeling and she was able to slowly shuffle her feet.

“Is it fair that you took my parents from me?” Emma asked, anger fueling her bravery. “Is it fair that I grew up alone?”

“You’re right,” Regina answered, a solemn expression on her face, leaning against the throne with her hands holding the hook in a demure position. “It isn’t fair.” Her expression morphed into one of disappointment. “I should have killed you, too, but you escaped.” Regina ran her fingers down Emma’s cheek with a pout on her face, but with a glint in her eyes. Emma moved her head away from her touch in disgust.

“Not to worry,” Regina said loudly, an expectant grin on her face as she hooked the metal weapon on the top of the throne and almost skipped to the center of the room. “You won’t escape me now.”

“What are you waiting for, then?” Emma asked, wishing her glare was enough to hurt the woman. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it!”

“Oh, no, no, no, dear, I want to savor this moment, I want you to suffer.” Her grin was predatory, her fingers sparked and her eyes were lost in fantasy. “I want you to fight back. I want to bring you to your knees and have you beg me to kill you.” 

“Don’t hold your breath.”

Regina’s laugh was mocking as she made another swiping motion with her hand.

The mirrors’ image changed. The image was moving now. Emma watched as a dark-haired woman dressed in comfortable armor deflected a ball of fire, a blonde man fighting next to her. All while a victorious laughter reverberated in the room.

Despite the rapid movement, she knew who they were. She recognised the fire in the green eyes, the determined chin. She recognised the shape of the man’s eyes, the color of his hair.

Her parents. The last moments of their life.

She watched as her mother stopped, her father in Regina's clutches, her hand in his chest. Emma couldn’t look away as she watched Regina remove her father’s bright red heart.

“Time for you to know how I felt.” Regina’s voice gloated from the mirror.

“I love you, Snow,” David forced out, his voice pained as Regina squeezed his heart until it crumbled to dust in her hand.

As his body dropped to the floor, she heard her mother’s screams of anguish as she fell to her knees to Regina’s cruel delight. There were tears in Emma’s eyes and her heart pounded in her chest, knowing what was sure to come next. 

Emma watched as her mother stood up slowly from the ground. She gripped her sword firmly in her hands. “I won’t stop until I stop you.”

Emma watched as the battle resumed, Regina’s attacks more vicious than before. She watched as her mother deflected the attacks, single-mindedly erasing the distance between them. Pride surged in her heart despite the dread as she watched Snow White fight back.

Emma couldn’t help the gasp when she saw her mother’s sword slice Regina’s face and then saw the red angry wound on her cheek. It seemed like a futile battle, that small cut the only injury Snow had managed against Regina, but at the same time, it felt tremendously important.

Unfortunately, Snow White’s determination was for nothing. While Regina recovered from the shock of the cut, her mother tried to stab at her. She watched the anger burning in Regina’s eyes as she grabbed the sword in her hand, the metal turning red hot from her grip. It reached Snow’s hands and, gasping from the pain, she let go of the sword.

She heard the clatter from the mirror as Regina threw the sword across the room but she didn’t take her eyes away from her mother. There was a disappointed look in her eyes, grief, hopelessness, anger. So powerful, Emma could feel it in her chest. 

“Your turn.” The Regina from the mirror grinned like a predator who had caught its prey.

Emma watched her mother take a deep breath and Regina wasted no time plunging her hand in her mother’s chest. Emma gasped, even if she knew it was inevitable.

Regina held the heart in her hand like a precious gem. “Finally…” she whispered.

Emma followed her mother’s hopeless movement as she carefully kneeled next to her husband’s dead body. Her mother placed her father’s head on her lap, her fingers feather-like on his features. A sudden flinch and gasp broke Snow’s focus from David, an angered look thrown at Regina.

“I was just testing it out,” Regina shrugged, a faux-innocent smile on her face.

“You will never win, Regina.” Snow’s voice was determined but refused to look away from her husband for another second longer. 

Emma watched as Snow leaned over David’s body to kiss his forehead. “I will find you.” She heard her mother whisper and Emma felt tears sliding down her cheeks. She didn’t take her eyes away from her mother even as she let out a pained scream - the crushing of her heart dragged out for Regina’s amusement - and her body slumped over David’s.

They were both dead.

“But I just did.” The voice in the mirror was echoed by the Regina standing in front of her.

To her disgust, Emma watched as the mirrors restarted the scene. Her parents fighting against Regina’s spells showing once more all around the room. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the mirror before but now, she noticed how Regina mouthed the words said in the mirror and wondered how many times she had replayed the scene of her triumph.

Emma’s body no longer felt like lead. The effects of whatever spell had been cast over her body were finally gone. She looked around to locate her sword. She found it on the floor next to Regina. She didn’t think she could get to it without raising an alarm.

Sitting up straight, the silver of the hook flashed in the corner of her eyes. As subtly as she could, she took hold of it. It was cold. She wondered how Killian was. She wondered about Henry. If they were okay. What could Regina possibly have done to them?

Trying to make as little noise as she could, Emma stood up. She took a few deep breaths for balance, her legs unsteady. With Regina focused on the mirror in front of her, Emma took quiet steps towards her, hook raised in front of her. 

As close as she could be, Emma stopped and swiped the hook down towards Regina’s back. But before the weapon could make contact, Emma was thrown back against the throne, a grunt escaping her as she made sharp contact with the wood.

Regina turned to her with an amused laugh. “Oh, you’ve got nerve! You caught me basking in my victory!” Her tone sounded unexpectedly proud, Emma didn’t much care for it. “But if you’re ready for a fight, then it’s a fight you shall get!” 

Emma barely had time to let her confusion settle before an unseen force was grabbing at her neck in a tight grip. It pulled her to her feet as she clawed at nothing, her nails catching on her skin. She felt the air being strangled from her, letting out panicked grunts. Before she could pass out, Regina used the grip on her neck to throw her to the other side of the room.

Emma got on her hands and knees trying to catch her breath. Her eyes found Regina standing patiently on the other side of the room, her gaze following Emma’s every move .

“Grab your weapon, princess.” Regina formed a fireball in her hand, her grin excitedly eerie. “We’re fighting to the death.” 

---

Henry drifted in and out of consciousness and it reminded Killian too much of the aftermath of Emma taking the arrow meant for him. Henry’s hazel eyes now replaced Emma's green ones, both dulled by magic Killian could do nothing about. He laid the boy down close to the bars so that he could get comfortable but still within Killian’s reach. He pushed the boy's hair away from his face, his stump held tight in Henry's frail grip.

"Killian?" His voice was soft, almost a whisper.

"Yes, lad?" Killian's hand caressed his shoulder.

"Do you think Emma’s alright?"

His question was punctuated by a tremor from above them. As Killian thought about it, he realized the sound had been a near constant from shortly after they settled down here, even if he couldn't tell exactly how long that had been.

"I think Emma is very strong and I learned that we shouldn't underestimate her." He tried for a reassuring smile as his thumb ran back and forth on the boy's cheek.

"I hope she wins." Henry's eyes were heavy as he blinked.

"I hope so, too."

He felt it in his chest, that determined beat, hope rising in his heart. 

"I'm going to get us out of here, lad." His voice was low but there was determination filling every syllable.

Henry hummed, his eyes closed.

Reluctantly, Killian pulled his stump away from the boy's limp grip. He stood and finally took a look around his cell. With his attention directed towards the boy the whole time, he hadn’t taken a moment to analyze his surroundings.

Their cells had much fewer decomposed bodies compared to the others. They were locked by a heavy padlock, signs of age clear in them. If he had his hook, they would be out of there in no time, and Henry wouldn't be in so much pain.

He couldn’t despair, he needed to think.

---

Emma quickly grabbed her sword to deflect the fireball thrown at her. Regina wasted no time sending another. Emma tried to summon her magic, recalling everything Henry had taught her, but it resisted her. Thankfully, her sword didn’t.

Emma tried to push back against Regina’s attacks. But every time she managed a step forward, a particularly vicious attack sent her back two. She begrudgingly thanked the Lost Ones’ cruel attacks for helping her in this fight now.

The mirror still played the same scene over and over, Regina seeming to cherish every repetition of Snow White’s death, a wide grin stretching her face. The sounds of her mother’s sword in the mirror matched hers.

“Your mother also thought she could defeat me,” Regina taunted, the effort of the fight not affecting her as it affected Emma. “Look where that defiance led her.” As if on cue, her mother’s screams echoed in the mirror.

Emma tried to not let Regina’s words stop her, tried to focus on moving forward, tried to focus on saving Henry and Killian. And yet, every time she heard one of her parents die, it brought her to an exhausted stop.

Surprisingly, Regina stopped attacking. Holding her sword in trembling hands, Emma looked at the other woman. She was grinning, an almost childlike gleam to it, excited.

“Are you ready to beg?” Regina asked, her arms wide open cherishing every one of Emma’s ragged breaths, her unsteady stance.

In the mirror behind her, Emma watched as her father died yet again. She wondered if she gave up, let Regina win, perhaps Killian and Henry would be able to survive, carry on. The rational part of her brain told her no, Regina wasn’t letting anyone leave her castle alive.

Emma watched as her mother stood from the ground once more, the way she persevered even after losing what the stories claimed was her True Love. But this time, as soon as Snow White was on her feet, Emma looked towards Regina. She saw the flash of surprise in her eyes before it was replaced with anger.

“Are you ready to die like your mommy and daddy?” Regina taunted.

Snow White had fought to her last breath. She hadn’t let Regina’s cruelty get the better of her. 

Emma wouldn’t either.

She felt a warm and comforting weight on her chest. A weight that wanted to burst forth. Emma was helpless to stop the power as a white wave of magic escaped her. The explosion threw Regina back, the mirrors surrounding them shattering as one.

Despite the power of her magic, Regina stood up only a moment later. 

“I see you’ve been holding out on me, Emma.” Regina’s grin was unimpressed but she recognised a hint of trepidation in her eyes.

Emma let the warm wave of magic flow through her, strengthening her tired arms, her unsteady legs, her heavy chest. Emma felt the determination, the hope rising within her. 

She was going to win.

She was ready when she saw Regina raise her hands so, imitating the movement, she let the power flow through her hands. With a quake, Regina’s dark red stream of magic met Emma’s white one shaking the ground around them. At the back of her mind, Emma heard the walls cracking but remained focused.

It felt freeing to let her magic flow unrestrained. Fighting alongside Henry had been good but she had been pulling back, afraid of her power, afraid of what it might do, who it might hurt. But Henry had told her to trust it, to allow it to flow.

Emma felt the significant power difference between their attacks. Regina had had far longer than Emma to hone her abilities. But she didn’t let that stop her.

For the first time since her battle started, Emma took no steps back. She kept pushing with her magic, kept walking forward. Despite her confidence, Regina wasn’t able to mask the fear in her eyes. Emma’s power scared her.

“Enough!” Regina yelled, a suddenly powerful blast pushing Emma to the floor, the sharp shards of mirror tearing through her clothing, cutting her palms and her knees.

Emma was able to shield herself from a fireball Regina threw at the last second. The other woman strode towards her and she threw a ball of her own magic towards her.

Regina swiped it away. “You think because you have magic that you’re going to defeat me?!” Her voice was filled with rage, echoing in the room, vibrating its foundations. “You’re an orphan, a street rat! You are nothing!”

“I am not nothing!” Emma yelled back, standing steadily to her feet, her own voice filling the room around them, making the walls tremble. Her hands glowed with a warm light. “I am going to win because I have something to fight for.” She threw a ball of magic against Regina, the woman stumbling even as she deflected it. “I am going to win for my parents.” Another ball of magic, another stumbling deflection. “For my kingdom.” Her last ball of magic hit Regina in the shoulder.

It felt like the cut her mother inflicted on Regina. It felt like a step towards victory.

“I am going to kill you!” Regina yelled, a stream of magic that Emma matched preceded a faltering stride towards her.

She could feel the shaking under her feet but she focused all of her concentration on her magic, on keeping Regina away from her, on winning.

“I am going to crush your heart slowly and painfully!” The dark red stream of magic turned black, her anger fueling the magic, causing Emma to take a stumbling step back. “I will win, I will always win!”

Before Emma could take a proper breath, Regina’s hand was buried inside her chest.

“Finally…” Regina whispered.

Emma felt the intrusion in her body, a hand wrapped around her heart. She thought of them.

She thought of her father’s devotion to her mother, his bravery to the end. She thought of her mother’s courage, hope, and resilience in the face of pure evil. She thought of Henry’s light, his laughter, his belief. She thought of Killian, of his warmth, his trust, his smile.

She thought of them and hope rose in her.

She hoped and she felt a tug in her chest. Opening her eyes, Emma saw Regina’s frown, her frustration, her anger. She felt Regina tug on her chest again and again, gasping at each one.

“What is this?” Regina was angry but in her eyes, she saw fear, regret. She wondered for a second how different this woman’s life could have been if she hadn’t followed this dark path.

“My mother was right.” Emma smiled. “You will never win!”

Feeling her magic coursing her veins and gathering at her heart, she let it go. 

Regina’s hand was ripped from her chest, and Emma gasped in relief, watching as her enemy was thrown against a far wall. The cracks already filling the walls ruptured further, reaching the crumbling ceiling. Before Emma could take another step, big blocks of stone fell on Regina.

A swooping warm wave caused Emma to take a step back. The Evil Queen was dead.

---

Killian strode to the corner of his cell where a pile of bones lay. Locating a rib bone, he broke it in half. Filled with renewed determination, Killian ignored the distant giggling, the distant rumblings and, finally, a tremendous wave of power and slipped the end of the bone into the lock. 

Thanking the sudden silence, Killian focused, moving the bone carefully within the lock. A moment later, he let out a surprised laugh when the lock opened. He wasted no time rushing to Henry's cell.

This one took even less time than the other as he was now able to look at the padlock. Once it was opened, Killian ran in kneeling in front of Henry. Pulling the boy carefully towards him, he focused on the lock on his cuffs, barely aware of Henry's eyes blinking open.

Killian sighed in relief once the cuffs opened, and he threw them as far as he could from the boy. Everything else forgotten, Killian pulled Henry into his arms, holding the boy close as his hand cupped his head. He felt the boy's arms wrap slowly around his neck, his heart resting for a moment.

"Are you alright, my boy?" Killian whispered, not letting go of him.

Clearly exhausted, Henry nodded against Killian's shoulder.

"Let's go find Emma."

---

There was a difference in the air, a warmth. A lack of darkness, of cold.

Emma looked at the pile of rubble on the far side of the room. She could see a hand protruding from underneath it, unmoving, not even the slightest twitch.

She felt the magic in her body settle. Her breathing was labored, her limbs heavy and eager to rest. But she couldn’t, not yet. After a decade on her own, she now had people to care for, who cared for her in return. She needed to find them. She needed to know if they were okay.

The castle was no longer silent. She heard footsteps, running, from far away. She needed to move. Her hand gripped the hook from the floor tightly.

Like earlier, she walked aimlessly, nothing but hope guiding her.

The halls were as oppressively dark as they were earlier, but now, they seemed even more constricting without the presence of Henry and Killian, their support and their strength.

She never thought they would become so important to her. She had tried to distance herself from these feelings. From being hurt. But Henry’s light was captivating, contagious and she knew she was devoted to the boy from his very first smile.

As she roamed the halls, looking for some sign of them, she saw a cluster of guards in black armor without their helmets. Her hand tightened around the metal of Killian’s hook, her hands tingling. They weren’t attacking. They seemed to fear her, their faces full of anguish. They weren’t threats, just frightened soldiers, looking for help.

“Do you know where it is?” One of them asked, his hand clawing at his breastplate.

“What?” She took a step back, worried regardless.

“Our hearts,” another one explained, his head swiveling from side to side. “Do you know where they are?”

There was a moment of hesitation, of shock. However, given Regina’s propensity for heart removals, she really shouldn’t be surprised.

“No,” Emma answered honestly. “But can you help me find my friends? I can come back to help you.”

The soldiers looked between each other. She saw confusion, mistrust, fear. 

“They’re in the dungeons,” one answered from the back of the group. “Down the corridor.”

“Thank you.” She nodded. “I will be back, I promise.”

She wanted to help. 

With her new direction, she carried on past the distressed soldiers.

She would help. She just needed to find Henry and Killian first.

Her chest seemed to lighten as she rushed down the corridor, as she got closer to them. It scared her. For all she pulled Henry closer, Emma pushed Killian further away. 

Their time with the Turners had been a dream. A very pleasant dream. To be so close to both of them, to imagine that they would be together in the same way the other small family was. To imagine a life on a seaside cliff, peaceful and good.

Thoughts of a future with him - with them - scared her. 

Her steps faltered. 

The metal around her neck pulled at her hair, the ring heavy and warm against her skin. She grabbed it over her shirt and continued on, needing to find them.

Emma ignored the rubble, the bodies, the stench festering inside the castle. She ignored it all as she ran down half-crumbled stairs.

But it scared her, he scared her. He had scaled the walls around her heart and had found a way inside. She was too vulnerable with him. The way she already felt so close to him, the way it had felt to sleep by his side, the way it had felt to touch him, the way she worried about him, the way she cared for him. She’d never cared about anyone the way she cared for him. Could he possibly care for her the same way?

She couldn’t ignore the whispers, the footsteps from ahead. She held the hook in front of her, her only weapon. She deflated when she saw them. 

Emma felt her heart burst with happiness. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her hands itched to hold them, to touch them, to keep them.

She didn’t feel scared with him anymore. She needed him.

Killian lowered the rusted sword in his free hand before dropping it completely with a smile of intense relief. She knew hers was the same.

“Swan…” 

"Killian…" Her voice was breathless. She was aware of it, but she didn’t care. “Henry?” She cleared her throat nodding towards the boy resting on Killian’s shoulder.

"He's alright, just exhausted." His eyes roamed her, seeming to take stock of her, and any injuries she might have. But she didn’t feel anything, just light. She approached them with slow steps.

"I was coming to save you." Her smile hurt her cheeks by now, her tone teasing. He smiled back at her and her heart felt like it grew too big for her chest.

"The only one who saves me is me." His tone matched hers and he winked as she drew closer.

She laughed, shaking her head, her eyes fondly looking into his. They stood facing one another now, his smile fading as he seemed to read something in her.

Emma wondered what he saw. She wondered if he could see the chaotic turn of her emotions. She let them lead her hand, her deepest desires coming to the surface. She cupped his face, her thumb running back and forth over the scar on his cheek. 

Emma searched his eyes. Looking for a sign, something that told her she wasn’t wrong, that he was the man she thought he was. She found it. She saw the deep care he had for her. She saw the desire, the trust. She recognised it because she felt the same.

It should scare her. But it didn’t. She knew she could trust him, that her heart was safe with him. A desire rose up in her - the desire to be close to him, for the future she couldn’t yet hope for. A brief flash of fear leapt up at how easily she pulled him towards her.

Her lips connected with his, his sharp intake of breath caught between them. It didn’t take long for him to kiss her back though. His lips were soft against hers; a calm, deep kiss not at all matching the furious, loud beat of her heart. Emma’s magic sparked as she felt his free arm wrap around her waist, tucking her into his right side. She felt his hand tighten against her, her fingers reaching up to his hair, the metal weapon in her hand hooking into Killian’s shirt.

"Emma, finally!" 

The voice startled them and pulled them apart. Any feeling of loss and regret was pushed to the side as surprise and concern took over. Emma stood protectively in front of Killian and Henry. She could feel him shift from foot to foot as if he wanted to switch places with her, stopped only by the fact that Henry was in his arms.

They watched as a woman wearing an utterly impractical blue gown stood in front of them, smiling widely. She looked unbothered at the destruction around her and Emma noticed that her feet didn’t touch the ground.

"No need to be alarmed, dear. I am the Blue Fairy," she introduced herself with an almost insignificant bow. "Congratulations on defeating the Evil Queen.”

Emma’s emotions were still too close to the surface - the adrenaline from her fight and consequent victory, the comforting feel of the kiss, and now this surprise making her hair stand on end. Hook still in hand, Emma pointed it towards the Blue Fairy.

She watched the scrunch of the fairy’s nose as she looked at the silver weapon and felt Killian shift behind her, Henry’s body accidentally knocking into her. She stood her ground.

A spark of annoyance shone through the woman’s eyes. “As I said, I am the Blu-”

“We heard,” Emma interrupted, letting her magic flow to her fingertips, her desire to protect the two people behind her fueling her. “Excuse us if we’re a little distrustful.”

“I understand your battle was hard,” her tone sounded put-upon, dismissing. “But you’ve won. The Evil Queen is gone and Misthaven is saved.”

“What would you know about my battle?” Emma’s tone was angry, her arm lowering making her no less dangerous. “I didn’t see you anywhere. I had to fight it on my own.”

“Well, of course you did, it was your destiny.” Her voice was grating, her anger beginning to get the best of her. “Besides, we couldn't get inside the castle.” The fairy followed her statement with a dismissive hand wave and Emma felt the urge to break that hand. “I’m glad to see you kept the Truest Believer safe.” 

“No thanks t-” Killian’s hand on her arm stopped Emma’s tirade. Despite its calming intention, his hand was shaking with anger. 

“If you’re right and Misthaven is saved,” Killian began between gritted teeth, “then we can leave these dungeons, correct?”

“Yes.” The Blue Fairy barely managed a glance towards Killian before she turned back to Emma. “Your subjects have already entered the walls when they came down and are helping my fairies bring it back to its full glory.”

The fairy began to walk - well, float - out of the dungeons. Emma turned to Killian, her annoyance and anger clear in her eyes.

“I know, love.” He smiled reassuringly and pushed a strand of her hair away from her face despite the turbulent emotions reflecting her own in his eyes.

His touch was soft against her skin, raising the hair on her arms. Her hands clenched and she remembered the fact that she was holding his hook.

“Oh, I have something of yours.” Tearing her eyes away from his and without rustling Henry too much, she grabbed his brace and clicked his hook into place. When she looked up, she found him still looking at her.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“There’s no time to wait, Emma!” The Blue Fairy’s impatient voice sounded ahead in the corridor.

Emma and Killian shared an annoyed glance and took a deep breath before following. 

--

Killian had only ever been to one castle before. 

On his first mission with Nemo, they were hired to find a king’s bastard child. 

Killian remembered being in awe of the riches of the castle. Gold and jewels everywhere, more riches than Killian had ever dreamed of. After his time aboard Nemo’s ship however, he realized that no amount of riches could entice him to replace the freedom of the skies for the stifling air of a castle.

This castle was just as sweltering as the other. 

It had been sinister before, with the silence and the destruction. Now, it was less sinister but more overwhelming.

People that hadn’t been there before filled the hallways, parting for them to pass. Everyone looked at them as they did, most of them bowing to Emma. Emma’s shoulders stiffened at the attention, her hands clenched, her posture uncomfortable. If there was anywhere she could have run off to, he was quite sure she would have already.

He tuned out the Blue Fairy’s voice, focusing on Emma and on Henry’s weight in his arm instead. He felt the boy stir awake, his hands clenching his clothing tight in his small fists before relaxing.

“Killian?” Henry whispered, face still hidden on Killian’s neck.

“Aye, lad, I’m here.”

“Where is Emma?”

Killian reached forward to touch Emma’s arm, startling her. She whirled around towards them, pausing their procession down the corridor. Her eyes filled with relief and joy instead of fear when they landed on Henry’s relieved and joyful smile.

“Henry!”

“Emma!” Henry cried at the same time, releasing his grip on Killian to wrap his arms around Emma’s neck. 

Killian stumbled towards them since he still held the boy’s legs in his grip. Standing so close, he could clearly see Emma’s face relax, her arms desperately wrapping around the boy, as the two took a deep and satisfied breath. He made no effort to release Henry.

From the corner of his eyes, Killian could see the people around them look at their embrace with affection. He could relate. He felt their joy as his own, felt complete with them so close.

A sigh of frustration penetrated their joy. “You are expected in the great hall, Emma,” the Blue Fairy urged, breaking up the reunion.

Killian saw Henry’s frown as he looked at the Blue Fairy. Emma reluctantly released Henry, but not before laying a kiss on his forehead. Killian relished the fact that Emma chose to walk beside them as they resumed their walk. He was amused at the glare she was sending towards the fairy in front of them.

“Who is that?” Henry asked, keeping his voice quiet.

“The Blue Fairy,” Emma answered, her tone tainted with annoyance.

“Oh.” 

At Henry’s frown, Killian pulled him closer. “What is it, lad?”

Their attention was broken by the opening of a large door. They were in one of the first rooms they had entered earlier, but it was barely recognisable now. There were no cobwebs or broken glass shards on the floor. The shattered furnishings were now back to their former glory. The torn pictures sewed back together, frames and pictures of royalty back on the walls.

“Nova!” Henry called, his voice echoing in the room.

Killian followed his eyes towards a dainty woman dressed in pink, who looked back at Henry with a stunned expression. He remembered her name from Henry’s stories, and wondered if she had expected to ever see the boy again.

The fairy didn’t move. Henry frowned.

“Nova?”

The Blue Fairy placed herself in front of them and turned towards the obviously frightened fairy. “Nova, since this room is finished, go with Silvermist and Tiger Lily to fix the King and Queen’s quarters and the Princess’ nursery. Have them prepare a room for the Truest Believer, too.”

Killian watched as the fairy looked between Henry and the Blue Fairy before lowering her head in a nod. “Of course, Blue.” Her voice shook before she rushed out.

“I just wanted to talk to her,” Henry said, turning offended eyes towards the fairy.

“She can’t very well talk to you when there is so much to do.” Killian’s hackles raised at the fairy’s condescending tone.

“I wanted to ask her why she left,” Henry continued, a sense of pride welling up in Killian at his determination. “I wanted to ask why she didn’t come help me when I called, why none of them did.” The boy’s vulnerable tone hurt Killian’s heart and he felt Emma’s warmth as she stepped closer to them.

“You didn’t need their help, Henry. You were perfectly safe.” The Blue Fairy waved away the boy’s emotion, and when Henry’s hands clutched his clothing, Killian had had enough.

“Perfectly safe?!” Killian’s voice echoed angrily in the now empty room, as he took a menacing step towards the fairy. All his anger towards the boy’s misfortune finally found a target. “He was taken by pirates! They put cuffs on him that weakened him! That hurt him! The same cuffs the Evil Queen just used on him! He was alone! He wasn’t safe!” He pointed his finger at the fairy’s unbothered face. “And now I’m wondering just how much you had to do with it!” Emma’s energy sparked beside him.

The Blue Fairy’s eye roll made him stand upright, the anger overwhelming him. “As you can see,” she gestured towards Henry. “He is perfectly safe, no need for dramatics.” 

Killian took an instinctive step forward, wishing that Henry wasn’t in his arms so he could strike the fairy down with his hook. Emma took a matching step, though at the moment, he was too infuriated to notice.

“Emma? Is that you?” 

An emotional voice called all their attentions to the older woman who had just entered the room. She looked too old to be helping restore the castle but she had an inherent strength to her, a determination, a care in her eyes.

“Yes, Granny Lucas, this is Emma and the Truest Believer.” The Blue Fairy turned towards the approaching woman gesturing towards the trio. “Take care of them while I supervise the rest of the renovation.” She turned back towards them, her eyes on Emma and a pleased smile on her face. “Welcome home, Princess.”

Killian took a step forward wanting to stop the fairy from leaving - to get some explanation, some retribution - but, before anyone could do or say anything, the fairy shrank down to the size of a small bird and flew away leaving a trail of blue magic. His arm went back around Henry and he felt Emma’s hand at his back comforting him as well. 

“Are you alright, lad?” he whispered, ignoring the approaching steps.

Henry nodded, looking up at Killian with sentimental eyes. “Thank you for defending me.”

Killian’s smile was small but his voice bore testimony to the overwhelming emotions in his heart. “Always, my boy.” Emma dropped a kiss on the boy’s head and Killian watched Henry close his eyes in affection.

The slow steps continued to approach and Emma turned to the woman they apparently called Granny Lucas. Killian was slower with the boy in his arms and, anger now abated, he was able to see how the older woman’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears. Emma looked uncomfortable, but she wasn’t running away, so he counted that as a win.

“You’re Granny Lucas?” Emma asked.

“Yes, dear,” she replied, taking a hesitant step towards the group. “I’m very glad to see you again. It’s been a long time.”

Emma seemed to be pushing back any emotional response, focusing on facts. “Are you the one who made the blanket for me? Johanna said you did.”

Granny Lucas nodded. “Yes, I was friends with your parents for a very long time. They were like family to me. And you were always like a grandchild to me.”

Emma’s arms wrapped around herself and he wanted nothing more than to comfort her. Henry must have thought the same since he used his weight to get closer to Emma, pulling Killian as well. His hand laid comfortingly on Emma’s back and he saw her shoulders relax.

“I can only imagine how hard this is for you, my dear,” Granny Lucas continued, cleaning her dust covered hands on her apron. “Why don’t I take you all to my cabin? You can rest and recover a bit while the fairies finish up here.”

Killian took one look at Emma before turning back to the older woman. “That does sound inviting, Lady Lucas, it’s been a tiresome journey.”

He wasn’t offended by the surprised look the woman gave him, her eyes had been only on Emma. But now that she was looking at him and by extension, Henry, her eyes softened even more, a fond smile on her face.

“Yes, of course, you all deserve some rest. I don’t believe I caught your names.”

Despite her politeness and overall better demeanor, Killian was reminded of the Blue Fairy’s dismissive attitude, his hold on Henry tightening. 

“I’m Henry. Truest Believer is not my name,” the boy introduced himself, his voice vulnerable but determined.

“And what a fine name it is!” Granny Lucas affirmed, earning a smile from Henry, before turning to Killian.

“I don’t think the Blue Fairy even cared to look at me twice, much less know my name.” His tone showed his bitterness towards the fairy and he did feel bad for somewhat directing it towards the much nicer older woman.

“Don’t let her get to you, dear,” Granny Lucas advised with an amused smile, even as he felt an understanding in her tone. “That fairy has a stick up her ass but she is one of the good guys.”

Killian smirked at the matching giggles from Henry and Emma, even if Emma’s were much better hidden. Granny Lucas grinned at that, having noticed as well.

“My name’s Killian Jones,” he introduced himself.

“It’s a great pleasure to meet you all.” The older woman did a small version of a bow, no less respectable. “And thank you for taking care of our Emma.”

Killian caught Emma’s wide-eyed look from the corner of his eye, probably surprised at the care in the woman’s voice. “With all due respect, Lady Lucas, Emma’s saved us a lot more times than we have saved her.” 

“Yeah!” Henry rushed to agree. “She’s awesome!”

He saw the blush in Emma’s cheeks and the uptick of her lips even as she tried to look away. “Alright, we should get out of here.” She quickly interrupted the conversation.

Emma began walking towards the exit and Henry leaned towards Granny Lucas. “She’s just shy, Granny Lucas, but she is awesome,” he boasted in a loud whisper.

“I believe you.” She nodded with a fond smile. “But please, call me Granny.”

---

Killian still remembered the destruction outside the castle - he didn’t think he would ever forget it - the emptiness, the destroyed houses, the scattered belongings. So, despite knowing that the Misthaven people were working to bring their home back to its former splendor, it was still jarring to see so many people wandering about. 

The broken mirror shards cemented on the walls were nowhere to be seen. He suspected they had been the first things to go. He didn’t blame them. There were no more scattered things on the ground. He could hear the laughter of children and small feet stomping around - he wished Henry could have the same innocence as them.

Henry had been put down on the ground after they stepped out of the castle’s door but he didn’t go far. He walked between Emma and Killian, holding their hands. Killian still felt Emma’s discomfort, especially as the people outside bowed to her as well, but he could tell she felt calmer with Henry’s presence at her side.

“Why must they bow to me?” Emma whispered the complaint.

“Because you’re their princess, dear,” Granny answered. “They have been waiting for you for a long time.” 

“How have they stayed so loyal? My parents have been gone for 28 years.”

“They had hope,” Granny explained simply. “That’s what your parents taught us to have. They did a lot of good and loved their people so they loved them back. They believe in you in the same way. You’re our savior, but you’re also their child. You’re our princess.”

“I never asked for that,” Emma mumbled, her free arm rubbing the opposite one. Henry noticed and leaned further on her. “I never asked to be anyone’s savior.”

“I know. I know,” Granny repeated after a pause, trying to comfort with her words. “But you were. You defeated the Evil Queen and everyone here is grateful for that. Now, you get to be in your home, you get to be loved by your kingdom and learn to love them back. You get to be their Princess.”

Despite the loving words from the older woman, Emma still looked uneasy. It had taken some time for her to be comfortable with the two of them, for her to express her feelings towards them. To have these expectations spelled out so plainly likely made her feel trapped, tense.

“Granny, we’re almost d- is that Emma?!” A blur of red interrupted their thoughts and their walk, and Emma was suddenly wrapped in a tight one-sided hug by a tall brunette.

She was a beautiful woman, much older than them. The white mixed in didn’t take away from the wildness of her long hair. There were lines on her face that showed a full life. The red cloak on her shoulders didn’t hide the strength of her posture.

“Ruby, let the girl breathe,” Granny Lucas admonished, even with a soft smile on her face.

“Right.” The woman called Ruby quickly stopped the hug, making Emma stumble slightly. “I’m sorry, I’m just so happy to have you back.”

“You know me?” Emma asked, feeling overwhelmed.

“Everyone knows you, Emma.” Killian saw how that seemed to make her withdraw even more. “But I knew you before they did. I am your godmother. Your mother and I were best friends.”

“Oh, so you knew her, too?” He wondered how it felt for Emma to be around so many people that knew so much of her family, how desperate she was to learn all she could about them.

“Yeah, even before she met your father! We found her in our chicken coop stealing some eggs.” Ruby laughed at the memory, a hint of bittersweetness to her tone.

“Why was she stealing eggs?” Despite her casual tone, there was a desperate hint to Emma’s tone.

“Well, she was on the run and got hungry. She was so scared.” 

“We just had to take her in.” Granny shrugged, a slightly put-upon huff completely overshadowed by the immense care in her eyes.

“She was lucky to have you,” Emma whispered, a small smile on her lips. Killian felt Henry tug on his hand as he leaned against Emma’s side. She looked at him, at both of them and her smile grew. 

Ruby suddenly seemed to notice his and Henry’s presence, not that he took offense. Pointing between Emma’s two companions, she turned to the blonde.

“Is the kid-? Are you-?” She couldn’t finish her questions, but it didn’t take long for them to understand her meaning.

“No.” Despite her vehement response, she smiled softly at them. “We’re just having an adventure together, I guess.” Her simple response was accompanied by a fond look in her eyes that made it feel like more than just an adventure.

“The boy’s the Truest Believer, from the prophecy,” Granny explained and Ruby nodded. There was no ulterior interest in Henry’s power, Killian realized. It was simply a clarification for them.

“My name’s Henry,” The boy clarified, a wide smile towards the women.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Henry.” Ruby smiled back before a mischievous glint sparked in her eyes. “Do you like wolves?”

“Yeah!”

“Ruby,” Granny interrupted. “There will be time for wolfing out later.”

“Wait, you’re a werewolf?” Despite the bright sun in the sky, there was nothing brighter than Henry’s eyes. Ruby just winked in response and he could feel the boy’s excitement. 

“They have finished repairing the west side,” an accented voice interrupted. “We can start housing the families from there.”

They both turned to the approaching man at the same time. Before anyone could respond, Emma had taken several steps forward with a knife he had seen on Granny’s belt.

“You’re the one who tried to poison Killian!” Emma accused.

“Woah, Emma,” Ruby took slow steps towards the stranger holding her hand out to the knife. “Why don’t you put the knife down and we’ll talk?”

“You’re right, I did.” The man spoke directly to Emma and Killian couldn’t help but take a step towards her while keeping Henry behind him. “At Regina’s command. She had my heart.” His hand moved to scratch at his chest, and he saw Ruby’s eyes soften. “She had it for a long time and one of the things she forced me to do was to get rid of the Believer’s keeper. I couldn’t refuse.”

The tension between them lessened with his explanation. Killian could see, underneath his age, the exhaustion in the man’s posture, the years of servitude in his eyes. He could relate. But Emma stood her ground, her eyes analyzing the man’s and Killian was impressed with the way he didn’t back down either, letting Emma see the truth in his words.

Finally Emma lowered the knife, handing it back to Granny’s awaiting hand.

“Alright, now that everyone’s calmed down,” Granny said, “I should take these three to our cabin while you two help around here.” 

“Yes, Granny.” Ruby nodded with a regretful half-smile towards Emma. “I’ll see you again later,” she promised before taking the man’s arm. He made a small bow towards them before following Ruby towards the west side of the village.

“You don’t need to concern yourself with Graham,” Granny reassured. “His heart is safely back in his chest and he has been going above and beyond to redeem himself.”

“Emma was poisoned by the arrow,” Henry explained, the furrow on his brow making Killian relive the painful experience of watching Emma dying in their arms. “She saved Killian.”

Granny’s frown matched Henry’s even as a proud spark lit up her eyes. Emma shifted her feet, uncomfortable with the praise.

“It’s still quite fresh in our minds,” Killian added. 

“I understand, it will take some time.” Granny nodded, sensing the renewed tension. “We should keep going. Johanna’s waiting for us at the cabin.” 

“You know Johanna?” Henry asked, excitedly following the older woman, his two companions right behind.

“Of course, who do you think told us you were here?” Granny winked with a grin.

---

The Lucas’ cabin was, surprisingly, not far from the kingdom’s walls. Killian guessed the Evil Queen had been satisfied enough with having destroyed their lives and wasn’t interested in chasing them. It was surrounded by a whole village’s worth of hastily-built cabins. They had made their own home away from home. There were still people running around, gathering their belongings.

Granny’s cabin was the only place with some life and quiet in it - the smoke from the chimney rose up to the sky. As they approached, they saw in the window a figure moving around inside. It must be Johanna. There was a delicious smell wafting from it.

When they entered, the source of the smell was quite apparent - the sweet pastries still warm on the table. The scene was very comforting and welcoming. Henry sighed next to him.

“Oh, you’re finally here.” Johanna rushed towards them, looking them up and down. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she fussed.

“Granny says you warned them?” Emma asked, already knowing the answer.

“I’m sorry for not having told you, sweetheart.” Johanna frowned apologetically. “We couldn’t pass the barrier but we knew you’d win. We all believed in you.”

Emma nodded, her eyes soft with gratitude. “Thank you.”

“Why don’t you guys get some rest and we’ll prepare you a bath?” Granny interrupted kindly. “We have some clothes that should fit you and you’ll need your rest for tonight’s celebration.”

“Celebration?” Henry asked.

“Of course, everyone will want to celebrate your arrival.”

They sat around the room, eating their delicious treats Johanna had prepared. The conversation was hushed, quiet, everyone recovering from the exhilaration of the day. They talked about their journey, especially now that everyone was on the same page. 

Despite Henry’s returning energy from his rest in Killian’s arms, there was still clear exhaustion in his eyes and limbs. As expected, the boy fell asleep on the plush chair with a half-eaten pastry in hand, mid-conversation.

They all ended up falling asleep, their bellies full and warm. Killian let sleep calm his racing thoughts - the terrible outcomes of what if’s where he lost this family that he just found.

Once they all awoke, they agreed that Henry would bathe first. Emma had gone after and Killian made sure to keep his eyes away from her. Because of the small cabin, they washed and dressed in the same room, a hanging sheet providing the only private space to change. It was tempting to try and catch a glimpse of her, but she trusted him. He had worked hard to win her trust. He wouldn’t destroy all of their progress for that.

The warm bath felt as good now as all the other times. Killian was happy to be rid of the sweat and grime from the last two days. The loose white shirt was a couple of sizes too big but the brown trousers fit him perfectly, if a little long.

She was still in the room when he finished dressing. She stood looking out the window, one arm around herself, her free hand laying on her chest where he saw the metal chain peek out from her collar. Emma was dressed much like himself - much like Henry -, a loose cream shirt and brown trousers. She was quiet but he could almost hear the spiraling thoughts in her head.

“Are you alright, Swan?” Killian asked quietly, not wanting to startle her.

Emma must have been a lot more aware of his presence than he thought because she simply turned her head to him and nodded. “This is just…too much.”

“I know.” He joined her by the window. “But, you found your home. You know more about your parents. The truth.”

“It doesn’t feel like home,” she confessed in a quiet, shameful voice. “When I was in that room with Regina, she kept showing me my parents’ death and I was losing. I kept seeing them die and I kept thinking of how I would be next.”

Hoping to provide comfort, Killian leaned so that his shoulder touched hers. She responded by pressing their shoulders together more firmly.

“And then I saw the way my mother fought - the determination in her eyes, her strength - and I reminded myself what I was fighting for.”

“What were you fighting for, love?”

“You,” Emma turned to look into his eyes and Killian’s heart rate picked up. “And Henry.” She looked back at the window. “I was fighting for my people and for my parents, but… that’s not where I belong.”  

“And where do you belong?” His voice was quiet.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was just as quiet. “I thought that I would find a home here but seeing them bow to me, seeing their belief…” Emma sighed. “I want to help them. I want to be what my parents couldn’t be for them, but…”

“That’s not who you are,” Killian finished.

Emma shook her head. “No, it isn’t.”

“And just who are you, Swan?”

She turned to the side to look into his eyes, and her mouth opened and closed a couple of times. “I know I’m not a princess. I’m not a savior,” she said, haltingly. “I’m just…me.”

“I have to disagree, Swan,” he said, making sure she could see the truth in his eyes, even with the doubt swirling in hers. “You could never be ‘just’ anything.” He paused for a moment and took her hands in his own. “You are Emma Swan. You are brave, selfless, caring and terribly stubborn,” he said with a fond smile.

Emma lowered her head but he saw the way the corner of her lips rose. Holding on to a moment of bravery, he slowly reached up to cup her face, urging her to look at him.

As their gazes met, her hand cautiously followed his own, running up his forearm until it laid on top of his hand. Her skin felt warm and smooth against his.

“You really believe in me, don’t you?” 

Killian worried for a second that she felt overwhelmed by his belief, like she had about her people’s. But all he saw in her eyes was surprise, affection and just a touch of fear.

“Aye.”

Her hand tightened on his, her eyes filled with vulnerability and returned belief and he thought his chest might explode. He had never expected to feel this way again.

He couldn’t help the way his eyes flicked to her lips, the memory of their kiss vivid in his mind. The memory made him eager to repeat the experience. To feel her lips on his again, to feel her hands on him, to feel her close to him again.

Killian wondered if he was imagining the way she leaned closer to him, their faces inches apart.

“Are you decent, dear?” A voice sounded from the door, their moment shattering. 

Emma pulled away first and he felt cold in her absence. She was the one to open the door to a surprised Johanna. The older woman looked between the two of them.

“It’s time to head back to the castle.” Her voice was unsure, perhaps aware of the tension in the room. 

“I’m ready.” Emma nodded, her shoulders tense for a whole different reason now. 

---

Henry was more of his energetic self on the way back to the castle. He served to divert everyone’s attention to things such as werewolves - how a werewolf looked or what a werewolf ate. There was a lot of talk about werewolves.

The wall around Misthaven had been repaired. The houses on the way to the castle were repaired and ready to be inhabited. The paths no longer had anything broken and scattered over it. 

There were lights coming from the castle and noise, as well. It looked alive. Nothing like the decrepit building it was before. As they approached, the excitement surrounding them dimmed just a bit, the grandiose feeling of the place overtaking them.

As soon as they crossed the open threshold, the noise grew, music, laughter and conversations ahead of them in a great ballroom. In a flash of blue magic, the Blue Fairy appeared in front of them, wearing a formal blue gown. 

“Finally, you’ve arrived.” 

Despite the time he spent away from her, Killian still wanted to wring the gnat’s neck. She seemed to be sizing them up and down, her focus on Emma and Henry.

“Those rags won’t do, Granny Lucas, they are guests of honor, they must look the part!” The fairy’s admonishing tone was received by Granny with a glare. Killian was reminded of the woman’s reassurance and wondered just how much of it was to herself as well as to him.

With a decisive wave of her hand, a cloud of blue smoke surrounded them. He was surprised the fairy had cared enough to change his outfit as well, but he supposed she didn’t want him standing out like a sore thumb.

When the cloud dissipated, his clothes had been turned into a dark brown noble outfit. They felt constricting, despite the flowy fabric. Perhaps royal life really wasn’t for him.

Henry, he saw, was dressed in colors similar to his but his outfit was more detailed, more rich. It suited him, made him look like a young prince.

But then a goddess in white took over his vision. Emma’s hair was down, loose, flowers in a crown on her head. Her dress was long and flowing, lace and soft fabric coming together to highlight her beauty, her form. The metal chain on her exposed neck and the ring he knew settled somewhere underneath, made her look even more enchanting. He could look at her forever.

Emma looked surprised and more nervous now than she had been. Henry seemed to have found the magic impressive even if he still harbored resentment towards the Blue Fairy. Killian was still entranced by Emma. But that wasn’t a surprise.

“We’ll head to the ballroom now,” Blue spoke to Emma and Henry. “You’ll be presented to the kingdom and make a grand entrance.” In her excitement, she completely missed the panicked look on Emma's face. Killian counted on Henry to be there for her. In a quick move, the Blue Fairy grabbed onto his two companion’s arms.

“The rest of you will use the side entrance,” Blue ordered at last with a passing glance to the rest of the group. In a blue cloud of smoke, Emma, Henry and the fairy disappeared.

“What a horrible, horrible bitch!” Granny grumbled.

“Evelyn!” Johanna admonished.

Killian smirked, following Granny and Johanna as they walked through the side corridors towards what he expected to be the side entrance.

“Oh, come off it, Johanna, she was rude and you know it, not that she cares. Don’t defend her just because she’s one of the good guys.” 

Johanna was quiet for a few seconds and Killian watched as her frown deepened before she sighed. “Fine, she is a bitch.”

“Now, now, ma’am, that is quite rude of you,” Killian mockingly scolded and the woman’s shoulders tensed.

Granny laughed and he joined almost immediately, Johanna relaxing with a shake of her head, a smile peeking through. The noise from the ballroom had been steadily growing as they approached the door. When it opened, it was deafening.

“Now this is more like it.” Despite the noise, he heard Granny’s satisfied sigh loud and clear. She caught his questioning gaze. “This is what Misthaven should have always been.”

The room was full. Everyone in the kingdom had come to the celebration. There were children running around, everyone was talking, laughing, dancing. Their joy was infectious.

There wasn’t a lot in terms of decoration. Much of the original layout of the room was intact, merely repaired, and Killian tried to forget the despair he had felt mere hours ago in that same room. The thrones were clearly the main attraction. There were flowers decorating them and the jewels embedded in the wood were gleaming. 

Killian nodded, Granny was right.

A sharp thump on the floor from a short dark haired man standing by the large door made silence descend quickly - mostly everything, anyway. Children were always difficult to keep quiet for long. 

“It’s my pleasure to present Princess Emma of Misthaven and the Truest Believer!” The man’s announcement echoed throughout the room and an excited energy took over everyone.

“His name is Henry…” Killian mumbled.

The doors opened to Emma and Henry, holding each other’s hands in a white-knuckled grip, obviously - at least to him - completely overwhelmed. The loud roar of applause from the crowd startled them. The Blue Fairy behind them urged them to descend the stairs, shifting their focus.

Killian watched, from afar, as the Blue Fairy parted the people so that Emma and Henry could pass. Emma’s shoulders were tense, and Henry was glued to her side.

Killian tried to make his way to the front. To be with them, support them. But the crowd was too thick - everyone wanting to see them, to talk to them, shoving everyone to get closer - he couldn’t push through. Killian was all but shoved to the back of the room, leaning against a pillar, while trying to keep an eye on Emma’s blonde head.

Everyone went silent as Emma and Henry stood on the dais, the Blue Fairy in front of them. 

“After 28 years, we have our Misthaven back!” A loud cheer almost deafened him. “Not only is the Truest Believer of prophecy with us,” her hand on Henry’s shoulder, while showing care first, was now used to part him away from Emma’s side. She placed her other hand on Emma’s shoulder, despite her poorly hidden glare. “But, we have our princess back!”

Another loud wave of cheers overtook the room. Killian had to stand back and watch as Emma was swallowed by her people, receiving praise and well wishes while she looked like she wanted to be anywhere else.

“Killian!” His troubled thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice next to him.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Henry was suddenly there.

“Lad! What are you doing here?” Despite his surprise, Killian was relieved to have the boy with him. He crouched in front of him.

“I needed to get out of there,” the boy confirmed with wide eyes. “I was almost trampled by those people.”

“They’re just happy to have their princess ba-”

“I know, I know,” Henry sighed. “It’s been the three of us for so long, it’s just too much…” Killian gave him a tight-lipped smile, his hand caressing the boy’s head. “I just wish I could have gotten Emma out of there, too.” 

“Me too, lad…” 

Killian and Henry stood at the back of the room, the boy leaning against him instead of the pillar. It felt like hours before the Blue Fairy made her voice heard once more.

“Let us celebrate!” With a wave of her wand, the music began to play, instruments moving on their own. 

When Killian looked back towards where Emma had been standing, he saw she was no longer there. He tried to find her blonde hair, made more difficult by the colorful spinning heads of the dancing audience. 

“I’m going to try to find Emma,” Killian said, turning to the boy whose face lit up at something he saw on the other side of the ballroom. “Will you be okay?”

“Yeah,” Henry quickly nodded. “I see Ruby, she’ll keep me company.” Before he was even done talking, he rushed away.

Alone once more, Killian made his way through the room, the mingling and dancing crowd making it easy to navigate. He tried to catch a glimpse of blonde hair, of white fabric, of sparkling energy. When he couldn’t locate her right away, he feared the worst.

Then, he saw her. Trying to escape conversations, trying to find a safe space. Maybe he could provide it for her. He hoped he could.

In a smoother maneuver than he ever thought himself capable of, Killian grabbed onto her waist and hand and slid with her towards the dance floor. He felt her grip on his right arm tighten and an instinctive spark throughout his body before she recognised him. Her hand relaxed where it lay on his shoulder and her other hand fitting more comfortably on his hook. 

“I could have hurt you, you know?” Emma asked with a raised eyebrow, a veiled threat in her countenance. Her whole demeanor softened in his presence making it easier for him to lead her in a waltz.

“You wouldn’t,” he said confidently.

“You’re really that sure?”

“Aye.” 

His grin was bright and happy. He couldn’t help it. And it only got brighter as they danced around the room. She noticed and her smile was shy, but not less happy.

“Watch the mocking, I’m actually getting the hang of this.” 

“I’m not mocking, Swan. I’m just thinking about what you said earlier, about not being a princess.” He watched her look away and he worried he might have upset her but then he noticed the pink blush on her cheeks. “All I’m saying, Emma…” Boldly, he pulled her to him and spoke close to her ear. “Is that you appear to be a natural.”

Her smile was soft and he was sure she could hear his heart pounding over the music. They moved effortlessly, her trust apparent as she allowed him to lead. 

“Emma.” Her green eyes were bright and he took a second to just look at her - at the soft smile on her lips, the way the white flowers compliment her beauty, at the freckles on her cheeks. “About our kiss-”

In an instant, her whole demeanor changed. He could feel the distance she put between them like a physical thing, even if he still held her in his arms. Her eyes shuttered, her posture turned tense, and her smile disappeared. He tried again. “It was…”

“It was nothing, Killian,” Emma immediately interrupted, her voice sure. “A one-time thing.” 

“I-”

“They’re here!” 

The short man from earlier shouted from the top of the stairs, shocking the whole room into silence.

“They’re here!” he repeated.

From the open door, everyone watched as a dark-haired woman and a blonde man walked in. Killian recognised them from the paintings around the castle. 

The Queen of Misthaven and her Prince.

The whole room erupted into chaos. Loud voices, people rushing to the front of the room. In the confusion, Emma escaped from his hold and he couldn’t help but worry about what that meant for them.

“People of Misthaven.” The Blue Fairy’s voice quieted everyone. “Our Queen and our Prince are alive!”

The whole room stood in stunned silence. He could see the confusion on the royals’ faces. In their young faces. They looked just as they did in the portraits. Not much older than himself. 

And then the questions and accusations began.

“Why do they look so young?”

“How are they alive?”

“This is a trick!”

“Please, everyone!” The Blue Fairy urged, laying a hand on the Queen’s shoulders. The monarch looked like she wanted to argue but the fairy continued. “What was for us 28 years of despair, was for them but a moment.” He watched the shock and grief on the Queen and Prince’s faces even as they tried to conceal it. “Even though the Evil Queen seemed to have won, their souls were protected in the stars. When Emma broke the curse, it freed them!”

At the mention of their daughter’s name, the royals could be held back no longer.

“Where is our daughter?” the Queen demanded.

At once, the crowd parted towards where Emma stood, on the other side of the room. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted as she looked at her parents. Killian felt Henry slip his hand into his and he tightened his grip.

“Emma…” The room was silent enough for them to hear the Prince’s awed whisper.

It was like the whole room stopped breathing as Snow White and her prince made their way down the stairs to the floor of the ballroom. Henry pulled on his hand.

“I can’t see,” he whispered.

Killian scooped Henry up on his arms, their heads at the same level. Together, they watched as Emma now stood in front of her parents.

“Emma…is that really you?” The Queen asked.

Emma was no longer looking at the man and woman in front of her, her eyes on the floor. Her posture looked as if she expected a blow, but Killian had become quite skilled in reading her, and he knew she was afraid to hope. Afraid to believe that she’d be able to reunite with her parents. To find her family.

“I knew you’d find us.” The Queen’s barely audible whisper made Emma look back up at them, look back up at the hope shining in their eyes.

The Queen cupped Emma’s face, gently forcing her to look at them, the love in her eyes almost blinding. Killian heard a few sniffles from the crowd and he could see, from the corner of his eye, Henry’s fascinated expression. Killian’s own thoughts went to his mother, gone too soon, and then to Nemo, the father he left behind.

There were sighs in the crowd when the Queen and her Prince finally hugged their daughter. Emma hesitated for a moment before she all but melted into her parent’s embrace.

“People of Misthaven!” The Blue Fairy’s voice echoed through the still silent room. He watched as the reunited family reluctantly separated. “I believe we should allow our rulers some much needed solitude.”

The Queen cleared her throat and, all at once, everyone turned to her. “Tomorrow we will hold an assembly. It seems we have missed much, but we are so glad to be back here with all of you and our Emma. We are ready to be your leaders once more.” 

The cheers and applause filled the large room, a general feeling of exhilaration and hope that was contagious. Henry swung his legs in joy and Killian found himself smiling.

They lost sight of Emma once more when the people in the room began to filter out, a cacophony of sounds surrounding them - footsteps and excited conversations. He led Henry away from the crowd, lest they were swallowed by them.

Once they were free to move again, they tried to find Emma. His eyes landed on the three of them, once more enveloped in a tight hug. Emma’s shoulders were still tense but she seemed to be making an effort to relax, to get used to her parent’s affection.

“Emma!” Henry called out, dropping from his arms, when they broke the hug.

Killian watched as Emma took a deep breath to welcome Henry’s arms around her waist. 

“Hey, kid.” Her voice was gravelly with emotion, holding the boy like a lifeline. His smile was bright and Emma’s could only follow, if a bit smaller.

“Is this the Truest Believer?” The Queen asked, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

“His name’s Henry.”

“My name is Henry.”

“It’s Henry, actually.”

The three of them all spoke at once, receiving a wide-eyed look from the royals.

“It’s been a long day, your Majesties,” Killian apologized, placing his hand on Henry’s shoulder.

The Queen looked at them with kind eyes and an understanding nod. He could see where Emma got it from. He wasn’t surprised by the Prince’s suspicious gaze on him, he could see where Emma got that from, too.

The Queen knelt in front of Henry. “You may call me Snow and this is David. We’re very happy to meet you, Henry.”

Henry’s smile turned shy at the Queen’s attention and he nodded. “Me, too. I’m glad Emma found her parents.”

“It looks like you guys had quite the adventure.” The Prince, David, looked between them, his gaze heavy on Killian.

“I can tell you all about it!” Henry’s shyness was overridden by his excitement, earning him fond looks from the royals.

Killian and Emma shared an amused smile, but she looked away faster than he hoped. He sighed in resignation. It seemed like things between them had just taken several steps back.

---

The corridors of the castle were now empty but they didn’t feel as daunting and nightmarish as before. Perhaps it was the renovations, or the company or Henry’s continuous chattering. Perhaps it was all of it, but the castle felt more inviting, warmer. 

“Johanna was the one who told us about you!” Henry spoke excitedly, his hands gesturing all over the place. “That’s how we found out Emma was your daughter and she was the one who brought us here!”

Some rooms were still ruined and aged, the fairies not having finished their task before the celebration had started. But the view of the restored library through the large open doors was breathtaking and it made Killian wish they could spend just a while longer in the castle.

Unconsciously, Killian stopped in front of the door.

“You can go in and take a look, if you’d like.” David’s voice caught his attention, his eyes wide as they met the Prince’s gaze.

For all of his suspicions, Henry’s story had obviously raised Killian in Emma’s father’s eyes. 

“Wow, is that a library?!” Henry rushed to Killian’s side to peek inside the open door. “It’s huge!”

“Why don’t you two go in and have a look?” Snow suggested. “We would love to have some time alone with Emma.”

He watched as Emma’s eyes widened slightly. He knew it was the surprise at being chosen, at them wanting to spend time with her, at wanting to know her.

“We’ll take you up on that. Come on, lad.” Killian nodded, sending a reassuring smile towards Emma.

“What?” Henry looked between Emma and the royals, confusedly for a second, before his mouth opened in the shape of an ‘O’. “Yeah! Yeah, we’ll see you later!”

Henry ran back over and quickly wrapped an arm around Emma’s waist and shot a bright smile at the Queen and her Prince before returning to Killian and rushing through the library’s open door.

“He’s still learning how to be a little more subtle in his interactions.” Killian shrugged, smiling at their amused expressions. “Your Majesties.” He bowed before following Henry.

“You found some very interesting companions, Emma.”

---

The library was as magnificent as he suspected. Floor to ceiling shelving with golden accents filled the room. Several beautiful paintings scattered along the few empty walls. A couple of soft-looking couches faced a large stone fireplace.

They walked up and down the carpeted corridors, Henry’s hand carefully running over the spines of the books that they could see under the bright light of the moon shining through the tall, wide windows.

The only downside was the severe lack of books. He feared that they had been lost during the Evil Queen’s reign. He only hoped that the collection could be restored.

“Look, Killian, it’s Cygnus!” Henry called from the large window. “Where is it pointing?”

Pushing aside his worries about all the lost knowledge the lack of books attested to, Killian joined Henry. Through the window, he easily found the familiar constellation. He thanked his years of sailing for not needing a compass.

“It’s telling us to go West.”

“What’s West?”

Killian closed his eyes and envisioned their map. “Camelot.”

Henry hummed and they stood looking out the window in silence for a moment. Slowly, the boy sat down on the plush bench underneath it, and Killian joined him on the opposite side.

“Do you think Emma will travel with us to Camelot?” Henry’s voice was quiet, his eyes still facing the constellation.

“I believe she will,” Killian answered after a short moment, hoping he was right.

“But…” The boy turned to him and his heart broke at the doubt in his eyes. “She has her parents now. Don’t you think she will want to stay?” 

“Emma said she would take you to Avalon, lad, and I don’t think she is the type to break promises.” 

“I know,” he sighed, crawling across the bench to rest against Killian’s chest. “I believe her…”

“But?”

“But I wouldn’t be mad if she wanted to stay with her parents. She probably missed them.”

Killian’s arm around Henry tightened as he laid a kiss on top of the boy’s head. “I’m sure she did, my boy, and if she does decide to stay, we can carry on together. Just like before.”

Henry moved around in place, turning to look at Killian. “Would you miss her if she stayed?”

“I would.” There was no doubt, no hesitance whatsoever.

“I would, too,” Henry sighed, resting back against him.

They stayed that way in silence for a while. While they looked outside the window, Henry played with his fingers and rings. It felt relaxing to have this moment of peace and quiet, just the two of them. Like before. Killian liked to have Emma’s company but he had missed these moments.

“Can you sing me something?” 

“I thought Emma was the singer. You don’t want me to tell you a story instead?”

Henry smiled, shaking his head. “No, Emma is not here to listen to your stories.”

“Alright, any special request?”

“After the battle in Arendelle, you said you remembered your mom’s lullaby. Can you sing it to me?” 

Killian’s eyes widened at the shy request and he felt his heart beat faster. “Aye, I can.”

Henry shuffled in his seat, resting his head more comfortably against Killian’s chest making his heart settle. It had been a long time since he thought of his mother’s song. He feared he had forgotten. Killian closed his eyes, his hand running up and down the boy’s back and thought back to a time before he first suffered loss. He began to sing.

He saw his mother’s smile. He remembered Liam playing with him in the living room while his mother laughed at their antics. He could feel her warm embrace surrounding him, her kiss on his head when he hurt himself. He remembered her song, the safety he felt when she sang to him.

Killian felt Henry relax in his hold, his breathing deepening as he sang the last words of the song. He pulled him closer to him and tried to blink away the wetness in his eyes.

“That was beautiful.” 

He looked sharply up to find Emma standing by a nearby bookcase, a blanket over her shoulders, another in her arms. Her white dress reflected the moonlight and made her glow.

“Thank you.”

She smiled timidly, seemingly almost regretful to have shattered the quiet of the room but he could never regret being able to look at her. He hoped his eyes were welcoming enough to transmit the invitation his dry mouth could not. It seemed to work.

Emma moved quietly across the room. She draped her extra blanket over her two companions and he heard Henry sigh in his sleep. Her smile grew as she sat on the opposite side of the bench.

“What song was that?”

“It was a lullaby my mom used to sing to me.” He was sure his cheeks were bright red and he could only hope it wasn’t too noticeable. “Henry asked for it.”

“Not for a story?” Emma’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Killian’s smile grew. “He said he didn’t want one because you weren’t here to listen.” Her eyes opened wide before she softened them to look fondly at the boy. “I agreed.”

Emma’s cheeks reddened and she looked away, outside the window. He joined her. Despite his happiness at seeing her, he could still feel her rejection like a dagger to his chest. They had been growing close. They trusted each other. They understood each other. How could he have been so wrong?

Killian felt the ghost of a touch - their legs were stretched side by side on the bench, the white fabric of her dress almost touching his dark one. She had come looking for them, for him. She had brought them a blanket. Maybe she was still afraid.

“I told you I had a great love,” Killian started in a quiet voice, pausing to allow her to remember their last night aboard the Black Pearl. “Her name was Milah. I met her more than a decade ago. I was young and naive, but I was in love. I was already part of Nemo’s crew and she wanted to join us - travel with us, go on adventures, see the world.

“I asked him, begged him to let her join but he refused. He told me I was blinded and that I didn’t know her. I was so angry, I left.”

Killian felt Emma’s eyes on him but he couldn’t look up, keeping his eyes on the landscape below.

“I stole a small merchant’s ship and we sailed together for about a year. They were the happiest moments of my life.”

He stopped for a moment, memories of what he was about to tell her filling his mind.

“You also told me you suffered a great loss,” Emma interrupted his thoughts with a whisper, a furrow on her brow. “I’m guessing this doesn’t have a happy ending.”

Killian shook his head. “She had told me she was married and, during our travels, she spoke of the son she left behind.” Guilt quieted him for a moment, unconsciously holding Henry tighter. “Milah told me of how unhappy she’d been with her husband but that she missed her son. I wanted to go back for the boy, but she refused. She didn’t think we could give him the life he deserved. And I didn’t mention it again.

“Her husband found us. She always spoke of him as a coward but when he found us, he was different. He had become the Dark One.” Emma’s widening eyes told him she had heard of the demon. “We had something he was looking for. Milah traded our freedom for it, but he went back on the deal. He killed her.” Killian took a deep steadying breath. “Tore her heart from her chest and crushed it right in front of me. He was the one who cut off my hand.

“Nemo found me. Our ship had gone adrift, miles from any coast. I had tried to fashion some sort of bandage but there was too much blood. I would have died if it wasn’t for him.”

“I can see why you’d want revenge.” Emma had folded her knees against her chest while he told his story, her arms around them.

“That’s not why I told you this.” Killian shook his head. Unable to touch her, approach her, Killian locked his eyes with hers, opening himself up to her. Letting himself be vulnerable. “I understand why you’re afraid. I was, too. Loving Milah was everything and losing her hurt more than I could ever imagine. I never thought I’d be able to let go of her, of my first love… Until I met you.

“That kiss-” He could see in her eyes that she wanted to look away but he wouldn’t let her. “That kiss wasn’t nothing. I know you felt it too.”

“Killia-”

“I’m falling for you, Emma.” Her eyes widened as her mouth followed. “And I believe you might feel the same way for me.”

He let silence fall between them.

“We don’t have time for this, we need to focus on getting Henry to Avalon,” Emma deflected.

“You’re coming with us, then?” Killian asked.

Her countenance was surprised and a flicker of hurt shone in her eyes. “Of course I am,” she said. “I gave my word.”

Killian nodded in satisfaction, pleased that his speculation about Emma continuing with them was correct. “We will get Henry to Avalon,” Killian said confidently. “But know this,” he continued, capturing her gaze again, “I’m not going to give up on us, Emma.”

She looked at him and he let her see the truth in his eyes - his promise to her, and the depth of his feelings. She stood up from the bench and his face fell. Her arms were wrapped around herself and her eyes never landed on anything for too long. 

“It’s late, we should go to sleep,” she said as she walked away from him. “Henry’s room is at the end of the corridor on the left.”

“Goodnight, Emma.” 

She paused with her hand on the doorknob. “Goodnight, Killian.”

---

Henry’s room was big. Too big for just the two of them and Killian pushed down the feeling that something was missing. He knew what was missing. As suspected, there wasn’t a room prepared for him. It didn’t matter, he wouldn’t have left Henry alone in such a big unknown castle, no matter who it belonged to.

The bed was soft when he laid Henry down, the boy curling up instantly. Killian quickly removed their coats and boots before he spread the blanket that had been around them in the library over the boy. He sat down against the headboard, not willing to let his guard down for a moment, his sword within easy reach.

Henry, probably noticing his presence, disregarded all the plush pillows on the bed to curl up against Killian’s side, his head pillowed on Killian’s thigh. A smile spread on Killian’s face almost instantly, as he’d begun to do more often in Henry’s presence, his hand on the boy’s head.

Killian hoped his sleep was quiet and peaceful, because he suspected a bigger battle was to come.

[bluenpinkcastle]

20240102: the History of LEGO Castle day 002. 375-2 / 6072-2 Castle (1978 / 1981, 779 pieces, 72 different parts, 1 sticker sheet) The "Yellow" Castle was designed by Daniel August Krentz and was the first mini-figure scale castle. The original (375-2) was released in the United Kingdom in 1978 while the United States version was released in 1981 (6075-2). The 1982 LEGO catalog said, "LEGOLAND Castle Sets take you back to the Middle Ages. The largest set has a castle with a working drawbridge you can raise and lower, 4 knights on horseback, and 10 guards with armor. With LEGOLAND Castle Sets, you can launch your own Medieval Adventures." Five thin baseplates allow the castle to be opened into several shapes and features a mostly yellow build with an arch over a red drawbridge, two side towers, and one rear tower with small red windows over two red doors. A sticker sheet is used to provide decoration to the light gray shields, mini-figure armor, towers, gate arch, and flag. Most of the stickers feature a yellow crown on a triangular dark pink background, while other stickers include dark pink decorative scrolls on a yellow background, eight yellow trefoils on a blue background, green chevrons on a yellow background, and a white maltese cross on a red background. The castle also features four brick-built horses; three black and one white. The minifigure as we know it today first began production in 1978, creating more versatile and mobile characters for Lego's first three themes: Castle, Space, and Town. Early versions of the minifigure torso used an entirely open interior and later versions utilize the cross-section interior stud holders. These minifigures have plain torsos with no print and the design effect is created with minifigure armor with stickers. Included in this set are fourteen plain minifigures, two black, eight blue, two red, and two white. With their plain smiling yellow faces, the four knights, four squires, and six guards could be any gender and that was one of my favorite parts about Lego as I was growing up. I like the ability to create my own stories and populate my realms with characters more in line with my own imagination with women knights and rulers. Early Lego sets all had a "back of the box" build, to show builders some of the other things it would be possible to build with the set. I've always enjoyed these alternate builds but as a younger human, I often felt like I didn't have the skill to build something pictured without instructions. I've been pretty good about building random things on my own, but something about building to a picture has always intimidated me. This set is a really good basic castle build, though the baseplate design makes it difficult to lift up and move to different locations. For only being a six-color castle (black, green, light gray, red, white, and yellow), this is a very interesting build. I like the hinge element and how you can expand the castle for easier play and all the parts involved make it very easy to build other things. While it is a very basic design, it is the first of it's kind and was definitely the building block for many of the following castles. Parts lists for this set can either be found on BrickLink or Rebrickable, while scanned instructions can be found at ToysPeriod. If you want to know more about the designer, Daniel August Krentz, BrickSet did a really nice tribute and has a full list of everything he designed.

[finitevoid]

I was tagged by @sparrowmoth to share the first few lines of my last 10 fanfics. i dont post half of what I write so to save my sanity from boosting exclusively the relatively old stuff on my ao3 account im just going to include WIPs in progress

Hummingbird Heartbeat

WHAT REMAINS OF CENTRAL CITY, A REACH LABOR CAMP, SPRING 2056 “Did you get it?” Nathaniel frets, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Yeah,” Bart replies, pulling the aforementioned piece of tech from it’s hiding spot tucked into his shoe. It’s small, so it fit against his skinny ankle— long and thin and light.

Warchild (HH's sequel)

GATEWAY CITY, OCTOBER 3RD, 2001, 10 AM He’s looking at her, Helena can tell. She can feel it on the back of her neck. His gaze is heavy, and it almost— burns. When she turns to look back at him, his eyes are scarlet.

Blueberry Bruises

She feels the explosion. Of course she feels the explosion; everyone does. The ground had been wracked with tremors for a good half an hour, but that shaking was paltry compared to the devastating, cacophonous shaking caused by the explosion. She felt it in her teeth, in her bones, in her eyes, and most of all, in her magic. 

Strawberry Split Lip

There is not, actually, zero contact between the Isle of the Lost and the United Kingdoms of Auradon. Both sides may act like there is— the put-upon ignorance of the royals, the cursory sneers of the villains— but the Isle and Auradon are linked; you can’t have one without the other.

From a doc only titled 'SHAME'

Ruggie scratches the pen against notebook paper, filling out a packet of calculations for his Magical Runes class. It’s due in about— he checks his phone—five hours. The test, too, is in about five hours. And Ruggie doesn’t intend to get any sleep between now and then; he gets all his best test scores after an all-nighter spent cramming. 

Diasomnia Fairytale

The boy, Lilia comes to understand, is human. He had seemed unreal, when he found him; not so much a human as something out of a faded, and yet glittering dream. Tiny eyes squeezed shut, pale cheeks and small hands clenched into equally small fists. Pale skin like metallic ichor with hair as light as spun spider-silk.

From a doc that's a pun on the ship name "Ikesoren" and the word "eyesore"

Ike watches as his blood stains the bathwater pink. It sloughs from his skin where the water kisses his sides, lapping gently. The cuts sting, but he can’t bring himself to mind.

A fic I am writing at an irl friend's behest due to his utter glee at my ability to mimic bad ao3 smut

Alhaitham pinches the bridge of his nose, sighs harshly through his mouth, and watches as Kaveh explodes through their front door and into their home. He slams the door behind him with a violence; it rattles in its hinges.

Ruggie Bucchi's Unwitting Foray into Rest and Relaxation

“You work too hard,” Leona’d said, as if he wasn’t lounging, half-dressed, on his unmade, king-sized bed. “It exhausts me just watching you. You should take some time off.”

Prince Kingscholar's Unwitting Foray into Community Outreach

Leona Kingscholar’s life gets significantly weirder after he finally graduates Night Raven College at the ripe age of twenty-two. Well— it doesn’t get weird at first. At first it gets, in retrospect, extremely boring.

i tag uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh myself from the mirror dimension

[teratocore]

Literally so obsessed with how all the worldbuilding and symbolism is done in the service of developing Damen and Laurent’s relationship. Obsessed with how the story hinges on the fact that despite everything that has happened to them, how they’ve both been betrayed by people they were supposed to trust who killed people they loved and tried to kill them too, Damen and Laurent learn to live and appreciate each other and this fact is symbolized by neutralizing a literal war and uniting these kingdoms that were once a single kingdom in times that only exist in the remnants of buildings that their own kingdoms built upon.

[myfandomrealitea]

(The same anon from the CSEM thing, sorry)

When you said that even hyper-realistic art of a child could be considered CSEM, even if it was tecnically fake, a question popped out of my mind for some reason:

What if a artist decided to draw a fictional child character in a sexualized manner with a realistic artstyle, will this count as CSEM, even if the child doesn't exist?

(Sorry if I keep doing this type of questions)

As before this does technically hinge on the laws of where the content exists and where the creator who made it resides. The laws regarding visual images are often far more restrictive than those regarding literature.

For example, under the 2009 Coroners and Justice Act (s62-s68) within the United Kingdom it would be illegal if the artwork depicted sexual acts with a child or was explicitly focused on their genitals whether or not the child was real or fictional.

In the United States, the 2003 PROTECT Act defines that hyper-realistic sexual images (drawn, manipulated, ect) can only be prosecuted if they are indistinguishable from an image of a real child or cannot be proven as artificially created.

In Japan, however, pornography of fictional minors, even hyper-realistic, is a lucrative, legal and normalised industry. Its seen in everything from street art to manga.

[dan6085]

The **German occupation of England, Scotland, and Wales** during World War II is a scenario that never occurred, although it was a possibility that both Britain and Nazi Germany considered. This hypothetical situation is most often discussed in the context of **Operation Sea Lion**, Hitler's planned but ultimately aborted invasion of the United Kingdom. Here's a breakdown of the situation and what was planned but never executed:

### **Operation Sea Lion: The German Plan to Invade Britain**

After the fall of France in June 1940, Nazi Germany's attention turned toward Britain. With much of continental Europe under Nazi control, Hitler sought to bring Britain to the negotiating table or invade if necessary. The invasion plan, known as **Operation Sea Lion (Unternehmen Seelöwe)**, was developed as the Germans aimed to defeat Britain and secure the western front before turning their full focus eastward toward the Soviet Union.

#### **Strategic Overview**

1. **Air Superiority**: The first step in the German plan was to establish air superiority over the English Channel and southern England by defeating the British Royal Air Force (RAF). This was crucial because without control of the skies, any invasion fleet crossing the Channel would be vulnerable to British air attacks. This led to the **Battle of Britain**, fought from July to October 1940.

2. **Naval Superiority**: The German navy, the Kriegsmarine, was much smaller and weaker than the British Royal Navy, and any invasion would have required securing the Channel from British ships. German forces planned to launch a cross-channel invasion from French ports, primarily targeting the south coast of England, but the logistics and naval strength required for this were problematic from the start.

3. **Ground Invasion**: If the Luftwaffe had succeeded in defeating the RAF, the German army would have attempted an amphibious invasion of Britain. The initial landings were planned for the coasts of **Kent** and **Sussex**, with subsequent advances toward London and other key strategic locations in England. Scotland and Wales would have been secondary targets once southern England was secured.

#### **The Battle of Britain: The Turning Point**

Hitler's plans for the invasion hinged on defeating the RAF, but the **Battle of Britain** proved to be a critical victory for Britain. The British forces, using radar technology and skilled fighter pilots, managed to repel the German Luftwaffe. By October 1940, the Germans abandoned their attempts to gain air superiority, and **Operation Sea Lion** was indefinitely postponed.

### **Why the German Occupation of Britain Never Happened**

1. **Failure to Win the Air War**: The failure of the Luftwaffe to dominate the skies over Britain meant that an amphibious invasion would be highly vulnerable to British air and naval forces.

2. **Royal Navy Superiority**: Even if the Luftwaffe had succeeded, the British Royal Navy remained far superior to the Kriegsmarine. Any German invasion fleet would have faced overwhelming naval opposition.

3. **Logistical Challenges**: Launching a cross-Channel invasion required significant logistical planning and resources, including transport ships, landing craft, and the ability to maintain supply lines across the Channel. Germany was not fully prepared for this, especially after suffering losses in the Battle of Britain.

4. **Hitler’s Shift in Focus**: As it became clear that Britain could not be easily subdued, Hitler shifted his focus to the east, preparing for the invasion of the Soviet Union (Operation Barbarossa), which began in June 1941.

### **Consequences of a Hypothetical German Occupation**

While Germany never successfully occupied Britain, many plans were developed by both sides for such an eventuality.

1. **German Plans**:

- **Occupation Government**: Had Germany succeeded, they likely would have established a puppet government in Britain. British fascist leader **Oswald Mosley** or others sympathetic to Nazi ideals may have been placed in positions of authority.

- **Repression and Control**: The Gestapo had drawn up lists of people in Britain, including political leaders, intellectuals, and Jewish individuals, to be arrested or executed upon occupation.

- **Cultural and Political Domination**: Nazi Germany would likely have imposed German laws, banned democratic institutions, and enforced their racial ideology. The monarchy might have been removed, or King George VI might have been used as a figurehead under Nazi control.

2. **British Preparations**:

- **Resistance and Defenses**: Britain prepared defenses in case of invasion, including the formation of the **Home Guard** (civilian militia), anti-invasion defenses along the coasts, and contingency plans for guerrilla resistance if the Germans successfully landed.

- **Churchill's Response**: British Prime Minister **Winston Churchill** vowed to fight to the end, famously stating in his speeches that Britain would "never surrender."

### **Fictional Representations of German Occupation**

The concept of a German-occupied Britain has been a popular topic in alternate history fiction. Some notable examples include:

- **"The Man in the High Castle"**: A novel by Philip K. Dick (later a TV series), which explores a world where the Axis powers won World War II.

- **"SS-GB"**: A novel by Len Deighton (also adapted into a TV series) that imagines a Britain under German occupation after a successful Operation Sea Lion.

- **"Fatherland"**: A novel by Robert Harris, which, though focused on a post-war Europe dominated by Nazi Germany, touches on the concept of German victory and occupation.

### **Conclusion**

Despite Hitler’s ambitions, the German occupation of England, Scotland, and Wales never occurred, thanks largely to Britain's resilience during the Battle of Britain and its superiority at sea. Operation Sea Lion remained an unfulfilled plan, and Britain stood firm as a key player in the eventual defeat of Nazi Germany. The notion of German occupation remains a chilling "what if" scenario that serves as a reminder of how close the war came to altering the course of history in the United Kingdom.

[businessindustry]

Articulated Dump Trucks Market Global Opportunities by Regions and Growth Status - 2032

The Reports and Insights, a leading market research company, has recently releases report titled “Articulated Dump Trucks Market: Global Industry Trends, Share, Size, Growth, Opportunity and Forecast 2024-2032.” The study provides a detailed analysis of the industry, including the global Articulated Dump Trucks Market share, size, trends, and growth forecasts. The report also includes competitor and regional analysis and highlights the latest advancements in the market.

Report Highlights:

How big is the Articulated Dump Trucks Market?

The articulated dump trucks market size reached US$ 4,919.6 million in 2023. Looking forward, Reports and Insights expects the market to reach US$ 7,965.3 million in 2032, exhibiting a growth rate (CAGR) of 5.5% during 2024-2032.

What are Articulated Dump Trucks?                                                                                                                                                                            

Articulated Dump Trucks (ADTs) are robust, off-road vehicles primarily utilized in construction, mining, and quarrying to transport bulk materials. They feature a hinge connecting the cab and dump box, enabling independent movement between the two parts for enhanced maneuverability on rough terrain. ADTs are known for their high payload capacity and are equipped with large, sturdy tires to ensure traction in challenging environments. These trucks are essential for hauling materials in demanding conditions due to their capability to navigate steep slopes and uneven surfaces.

Request for a sample copy with detail analysis: https://www.reportsandinsights.com/sample-request/1990

What are the growth prospects and trends in the Articulated Dump Trucks industry?

The articulated dump trucks market growth is driven by various factors. The market for Articulated Dump Trucks (ADTs) is on a steady rise, propelled by the construction, mining, and quarrying sectors' need for durable off-road vehicles. ADTs are prized for their capacity to handle tough terrains and transport large volumes of materials effectively. Growth drivers include ongoing infrastructure projects, expanding mining operations, and the demand for efficient material transportation solutions. Furthermore, advancements in technology, such as increased fuel efficiency and improved safety features, are also playing a role in driving market expansion. Hence, all these factors contribute to articulated dump trucks market growth.

What is included in market segmentation?

The report has segmented the market into the following categories:

Product Type:

Standard Dump Trucks

Compact Dump Trucks

Dump Capacity:

Below 30 tons

30-40 tons

Above 40 tons

End-Use Industry:

Construction

Mining

Quarrying

Agriculture

Landscaping

Others

Application:

Hauling Materials

Waste Management

Infrastructure Development

Mining Operations

Others

Sales Channel:

OEMs (Original Equipment Manufacturers)

Distributors

Online Retailers

Segmentation By Region:

North America:

United States

Canada

Europe:

Germany

United Kingdom

France

Italy

Spain

BENELUX

NORDIC

Russia

Poland

Rest of Europe

Asia Pacific:

China

Japan

India

South Korea

ASEAN

Australia & New Zealand

Rest of Asia Pacific

Latin America:

Brazil

Mexico

Argentina

Rest of LATM

Middle East & Africa:

Saudi Arabia

South Africa

United Arab Emirates

Israel

Egypt

Who are the key players operating in the industry?

The report covers the major market players including:

Caterpillar Inc.

Volvo Construction Equipment

Komatsu Ltd.

Hitachi Construction Machinery Co., Ltd.

Terex Corporation

Doosan Infracore Co., Ltd.

Liebherr Group

Bell Equipment Co SA

XCMG Group

SANY Group Co., Ltd.

JCB Ltd.

Deere & Company (John Deere)

Hyundai Construction Equipment Co., Ltd.

View Full Report: https://www.reportsandinsights.com/report/Articulated Dump Trucks-market

If you require any specific information that is not covered currently within the scope of the report, we will provide the same as a part of the customization.

About Us:

Reports and Insights consistently mееt international benchmarks in the market research industry and maintain a kееn focus on providing only the highest quality of reports and analysis outlooks across markets, industries, domains, sectors, and verticals. We have bееn catering to varying market nееds and do not compromise on quality and research efforts in our objective to deliver only the very best to our clients globally.

Our offerings include comprehensive market intelligence in the form of research reports, production cost reports, feasibility studies, and consulting services. Our team, which includes experienced researchers and analysts from various industries, is dedicated to providing high-quality data and insights to our clientele, ranging from small and medium businesses to Fortune 1000 corporations.

Contact Us:

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[triexlimited]

Spotlight on a Leading Renewable Energy Electrical Contractor

In the verdant landscapes of Wales, where lush valleys and rugged coastlines meet, a quiet revolution is underway in the realm of renewable energy. At the forefront of this movement stands a distinguished electrical contractor dedicated to harnessing nature's power through innovative renewable energy solutions. This blog delves into the pivotal role played by this leading renewable energy electrical contractor in shaping Wales' sustainable future.

Embracing Renewable Energy

Wales has emerged as a beacon of renewable energy within the United Kingdom, driven by its commitment to reducing carbon emissions and embracing clean energy alternatives. With its abundant natural resources, including wind, solar, and hydroelectric potential, the nation has set ambitious targets for renewable energy generation. This vision is brought to life through the expertise and dedication of specialized electrical contractors who design, install, and maintain the infrastructure needed to harness these renewable resources effectively.

The Role of a Leading Contractor

At the heart of Wales' renewable energy sector is a leading EPC Contractor England for its innovation and reliability. This contractor stands out not only for its technical prowess but also for its holistic approach to sustainable development. From large-scale wind farms dotting the Welsh countryside to community-based solar projects empowering local residents, their portfolio showcases a diverse range of initiatives aimed at maximizing energy efficiency and minimizing environmental impact.

Expertise and Innovation

The success of renewable energy projects hinges on the expertise and innovation brought by electrical contractors. In Wales, this leading contractor employs cutting-edge technologies and best practices to optimize energy production and ensure the longevity of renewable infrastructure. Their skilled team of engineers, technicians, and project managers are adept at navigating the complexities of renewable energy systems, from initial feasibility studies and site assessments to ongoing maintenance and performance monitoring.

Driving Economic Growth and Community Engagement

Beyond their technical proficiency, the contractor plays a pivotal role in driving economic growth and fostering community engagement. By investing in renewable energy infrastructure, they create job opportunities, stimulate local economies, and contribute to Wales' overall prosperity. Moreover, they prioritize transparent communication and collaboration with communities, ensuring that their projects are not only environmentally sound but also socially beneficial.

Overcoming Challenges

While Wales' renewable energy sector holds tremendous promise, it is not without its challenges. The contractor navigates issues such as grid integration, regulatory compliance, and the variability of renewable resources. However, these challenges are met with innovative solutions and a forward-thinking approach, ensuring that Wales remains at the forefront of sustainable energy development.

Looking Towards the Future

As Wales continues to expand its renewable energy capacity, the role of electrical contractors will only grow in importance. The leading contractor is poised to play a pivotal role in realizing Wales' ambitious renewable energy targets, supporting the nation's transition towards a low-carbon future. Their commitment to innovation, sustainability, and community empowerment sets a precedent for others in the industry to follow, ensuring that Wales remains a leader in renewable energy innovation for years to come.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the leading Renewable Energy Electrical contractor Wales exemplifies the transformative power of sustainable development. Through their expertise, innovation, and dedication, they not only contribute to Wales' renewable energy landscape but also inspire others to embrace clean energy solutions. As they continue to innovate and collaborate with stakeholders, their impact on Wales' sustainable future is undeniable, paving the way for a greener and more prosperous tomorrow.

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