#dracula in storybrooke
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Dracula in Storybrooke 3
Captain Swan Supernatural Summer
@cssns
Once Upon a Time: Emma Swan and Captain Killian Hook Jones
Killian told Emma about his suspicion that his former first mate might know more about what is going on then he was being up front about.
Emma suggested that if Smee was willing to talk, he should bring him to the diner, and he could tell the rest of the group what he knows.
With a plan in place, and a kiss on the cheek, Killian headed out.
It was best if Killian spoke to Smee alone. He would likely feel less intimidated and more forthcoming that way.
Emma finished up her second cup of coffee, (and her second poptart) then left the house to talk to her parents about Killian’s theory and the new plan.
It was morning, but the sunlight was quickly fading away.
A dense gray fog was quickly rolling in.
There was no doubt in Emma’s mind that magic was behind it. Looking ahead, she saw a dark figure wearing a black cape.
With a roll of her eyes and a sigh, she pulled her bug over and got out.
“And I thought my pirate was over dramatic. Were the theatric’s really necessary, Drake? Or would you prefer I call you Dracula?”
The vampire was taken aback by her nonchalant attitude. He had been expecting a bigger reaction. Every other being would have been amazed, or frightened at his ability to summon the fog and appear out of nowhere.
But it seemed that the savior needed to witness more to be impressed by his power.
“I wanted to have a talk with you, alone. Your family, and the sun, have a tendency to interfere with my ability to have a deep conversation with you.”
He glided closer. His voice was low, sultry, and hypnotic.
“You are an exquisite being. Far too lovely for the likes of any mere mortal.”
Drake leaned closer to Emma. His eyes became more intense. Emma senses were going off. A part of her felt drawn to the man, but another part was screaming to run away.
Drake’s eyes were on Emma’s lips. He was going to kiss her.
But the only man she wanted to kiss was Killian. She only loved Killian. And he would be hurt if she allowed another man to kiss her.
Emma jerked back, her full senses returning. By pure instinct, she shot light from her hands toward The Count, who hissed loudly and quickly backed away.
“No. It’s not possible. How could you resist my power?”
“I’ve been told I can be pretty stubborn.” Emma retorted. She held up her hands, which were glowing with her magic. “I suggest you get out of here.”
In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
Emma noticed that the fog also started to disappear, but at a much slower rate.
She got back in her bug and headed to her parent’s apartment.
Once Upon A Time
“He tried to kiss you?” David was outraged that anyone would try to take advantage of his daughter like that.
“I think he has the power to put people in a trance. But for some reason, it didn’t work on me.”
Snow, equally concerned for her daughter as her husband, asked, “Were you tempted, but fought it?”
“Yeah. All I could think was that this wasn’t Killian. And I was able to pull away.”
Snow smiled. “That’s like what happened between your father and the siren. He was able to break free from her trance because he loved me.”
Snow looked at her husband with a bright smile. “Isn’t it wonderful! Our daughter has true love!”
“Our daughter also has a second centuries old being interested in her. And that one probably wants to drain her of her blood.”
Hoping that Killian convinced Smee to divulge what he knew, the Charming family headed to Granny’s Diner.
Once Upon A Time
“Dracula must take a bride every one hundred years. He failed to turn Mina Harker, and was weakened because of it. He needs a bride of great beauty, and great power, or he will die.”
“He wants Emma?”
“He needs Emma. Without her, he will become as weak and powerless as any mortal man.”
"The only person who gets to bite my neck is my pirate."
"That is not information a father needs to hear." David groaned.
"That’s not information a son needs to hear, either." Henry added.
"Dracula wants to make Emma his bride?" Mary Margaret wanted to get the conversation back to gaining information to protect her daughter.
Her husband’s and grandson’s psychological discomfort would have to wait for another day.
"One of his brides. Technically, you would be his fourth. He's already had three." Smee explained to his captain’s true love.
"Well doesn't that make me feel special." Emma rolled her eyes."What girl doesn't dream of being part of a harem. Having to wait in line for her husband to pay attention to her."
"He certainly picked a challenge." Whale thought any man who believed he could steal Emma Swan away from Killian Jones should be declared legally insane.
"He didn't exactly pick her." Smee explained. "Emma holds the light that will give him back all of his power. It’s Emma’s blood. She's the product of true love. She has magic that is pure light. Dracula believes he can regain power by turning Emma.”
“Is that how he picked his other wives?” Leroy asked.
“He didn’t need his power restored when he took the others. Each time he takes a bride, he chooses a woman who has something that he needs.
The first of his vampire brides was a maiden of noble birth from his own land. Her family had a lot of land, and great wealth. He killed every member of her family to gain full control of her and her family’s holdings.
When the people of the village near his castle became suspicious. His food source was becoming scarce. That’s when he realized he would have to travel to different lands from time to time.
That’s where taking a wife would be useful. He would never reveal that he had other eternal brides, of course.
Not all of those he turned would spend eternity with him. And not every maiden he married was turned.
Those that submitted to him completely and did his bidding were the ones he called his brides.
Those whose company he grew tired of were either killed or sent away to decide for themselves how they wanted to spend their eternity.”
“That’s not a life I want. Not even an undead one. How is Dracula planning on forcing me to be his bride? Because that’s the only way I see his plan working.”
“The only way he can consume your blood, is if you give into him willingly. Mina Harker’s love and innocence was what he needed to gain strength. Because it was something special within her blood, she had to surrender herself to him of her own free will. The power that he needs from you is within your blood. Just like with Mina Harker, he can’t take it by force. Or else the source will be tainted and it won’t work.
It seems that Dracual will have to make Emma forget everyone, and everything she knows. Only then will she be vulnerable to his influence."
“Magic.” Killian sighed. Fear for his true love and her family colored his voice and his face.
“Dracula’s not a sorcerer, Captain. He has the ability to do a lot of things. But his power is limited.”
“If he is as devious and resourceful as you, he will find a way.”
“And we will find a way to stop him.” Emma laid her hand on Killian’s arm.
“To undo everything Dracula had done, he needs to be killed, or at least sealed away again.”
“Do you remember how they did it?”
“I wasn’t there. I was under Dracula’s spell, so they had me locked up in a sanitarium. But I remember that Van Helsing kept a detailed recording of all of his encounters with the supernatural. I overheard him mention it to Dr. Seward, head of the sanitarium. If you find his journal he kept at the time, it will tell you how he and Harker defeated the vampire.”
“In all of the stories, crosses, garlic, and holy water make vampires powerless.” Henry was sure there had to be some truth to legends he heard.
"Dracula does not follow the same rules as other vampires."
"What makes him different?"
"Dracula wasn't bitten. He became a vampire through consuming the blood of a dragon. His power is greater because it came directly from a being of magic."
“I didn’t know there were dragons in the land of horror?”
“There’s not. Do you think Jefferson and Gold were the only beings to constantly travel between realms? There have been peddlers throughout the ages that have delivered goods from one world, to sell to those in another. I used to be one of them, before I joined in with Captain Jones.”
“Is that how many of the monsters were created?” Henry asked.
“The Captain’s right, you are a clever lad.”
Henry beamed with pride.
“I have said before that magic manifests differently in each realm. Even if you take an item from one realm, it may not work the same in another.” The Blue Fairy warned.
“There was a time when travel between realms was common. And there was an opportunity to make a lot of money. In the Land of Horror, multiple groups of people were trying to conquer the world. Some kingdoms wanted to protect their people from being invaded. Peddlers from lands of prosperous magic brought many magical items into the Land of Horror. But the effects changed the recipients in ways that were unimaginable. Vlad Tepest was one of those rulers who sought to defend his people. His intentions were once honorable. But it was power he was not meant to have, and it corrupted him. He even changed his name to Dracula, because he thought he had become a descendent of dragons.”
“So a guy consumes something he shouldn’t and ends up turning into a monster. Fair enough. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing I’ve ever heard of.”
“The strangest would be Captain Hook falling in love with the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming.”
“And here I thought it was the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming falling in love with Captain Hook.” Emma shot back with her own cheeky grin.
"So how do we keep him away?" David asked, wanting the conversation to steer away from his daughter’s love life.
"He's still sensitive to direct sunlight. Unfortunately, he can still be out during the day. As Emma found out earlier. He can summon the fog to aid him."
"What we need are werewolves." Henry announced. "A large pack of werewolves. Lots of movies say werewolves are deadly to vampires."
"Most of the wolf shifters were eradicated." Granny explained. "The pack mentality leads to too much destruction. So multiple kingdoms sought them out and killed them."
Henry looked disappointed, then a thought came to him.
"What if there are werewolves in other realms? The vampires came from Whale's world. What if the werewolves that kill vampires are also from Whales world?"
"If I recall, the creatures you're talking about can not be controlled and have no control over themselves when they shift." Killian said.
"And sometimes it's the vampires that have control." Emma added.
Still, it was an interesting idea. If also a really dangerous one.
It also posed the issue that there might already be werewolves, of the horror world variety.
“What if those types of werewolves are already in Storybrooke? What if that is something else we’re going to have to worry about?”
It seemed to be one thing after another. The heroes could not seem to catch a break.
“There’s been no proof of the more savage types of werewolves in Storybrooke. So let's not start worrying. We have enough to concern ourselves with already.”
Mary Margaret looked over and saw the dwarves clustered together.
“What are they doing?”
“Drawing straws on who gets to drive a stake through Regina’s heart, if she becomes a vampire.”
“Will you guys stop that! We need to focus on protecting my daughter!”
#captain swan#once upon a time#ouat#emma swan#killian jones#captain hook#emma x hook#emma x killian#killian and emma#cssns23#dracula in storybrooke#grimmswanfic
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The FINAL YEAR of the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer is behind us, so it's time for the CSSNS24 Event Roundup!!!
Does anyone else need a min? I know I do...
Before we get to the roundup itself, I have to give the LOUDEST OF SHOUT OUTS and GROUP HUG to the team of mods - @winterbaby89 @jrob64 @stahlop and @ultraluckycatnd - who helped me EVERY STEP OF THE WAY!!! This event absolutely wouldn't have happened without them and I'm sooooo grateful that they stepped up to the plate to make this final event a success!!! Thank you all soooo much, ladies!!!!
Also as part of this final roundup, I want to share all the links to all the other event roundups that have been reblogged the last few weeks. This has been an PHENOMENAL ride over all these years and I'm so grateful for all the love and support y'all have given it!! And now, all of the fics and art from all of the years will be in one place!!
CSSNS18
CSSNS19
CSSNS20
CSSNS21
CSSNS22
CSSNS23
Thank you all again for EVERYTHING all these years!!! Its been an honor and privilege to man the helm for most of these years, but it certainly wouldn't have lasted as long as it has without the contributions of all the participants and the enthusiasm of the audience!!!! So thank you all from the bottom of my heart!!!
And now, on to the roundup!!!! Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.
I opened us up this year on July 2 with the first of two contributions I prepared for this final event. The Arena was a short and - kinda, maybe, not so much overall, but def by the end - sweet werewolf oneshot with breathtaking artwork by @motherkatereloyshipper !!!
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On ao3
On July 5, @exhaustedpirate posted a not-so-short and extra sexy werewolf fic, In Your Moonlit Eyes, with wonderful artwork by @thejollyroger-writer.
On Tumblr
On ao3
On July 7, @whatevenisthisbloganymore posted the first chapter of a fae fic, Where Idle Feet Wander. Princess Emma of the EF finds herself in the Fae lands and needs help to return home. The first ch was fantastic and I can't wait to see where the journey takes us!
On ao3
On July 9, @jrob64 posted the first chapter of her ghost hunter Killian fic, Ghosted, with artwork provided by yours truly, manips of Neal and Liam courtesy of @motherkatereloyshipper! Now complete with five chapters, Joni took us on QUITE a spooky ride!! Don't read before going to bed at night!!!
Ch1 on Tumblr
On ao3
On July 13, @grimmswan updated both of her fics from last year, Dracula in Storybrooke and Love Bites (But So Do I). Both of these fics are SO MUCH FUN and we are getting very close to their conclusions!!
Dracula in Storybrooke on Tumblr on ao3
Love Bites on Tumblr on ao3
On July 14 @anmylica posted an update to last years fic, Fly With the Black Swan, her alternate telling of the Dark Swan arc. Now three chs in, this is an absolutely beautiful tale so far and I can't wait for more of it!!! Artwork by @zaharadessert
On ao3
On July 15, @theartofdreaming1 posted original artwork for the event featuring mermaid Emma!!! Absolutely beautiful work brought me to tears!!
On July 17, @mie779 posted an alternative take on episode 3x17 The Jolly Roger featuring merman Killian!! Don't Kiss and Tail, a fantastic and utterly delightful what if fic!!! Lovely banner by @iamstartraveller776.
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On ao3
On July 17, @goforlaunchcee updated last year's fic, Smoke and Mirrors, with absolutely perfect artwork by @piinfeathers!! A ghost/witch story, it's an absolute HOOT and I'm always so happy when she updates!! Now up to ch7.
On Tumblr
On ao3
On July 19, @snowbellewells posted the first of her two offerings for this year's event, On Wings of Storm, with magnificent artwork by @motherkatereloyshipper !!! A beautiful one shot that left me in tears of joy!!
On Tumblr
On ao3
On July 25, @laianely posted the first chapter of her crime mystery No Rest for the Immortals with artwork by @captainswan-kellie (x) and herself (x). A murder mystery featuring vampire Killian, I am BESIDE myself every time she updates. Now on ch7.
On Tumblr
On ao3
On July 27, @xarandomdreamx posted the first chapter of her fic, The Kiss of Life with beautiful artwork provided by @motherkatereloyshipper!! Ohhh, she killed me sharing snippets on discord and the whole chapter did not disappoint!!!! Cannot wait for more of this!!!
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On ao3
On Aug 4, I posted my second fic for the event, Return to Me, again with stunning artwork by @motherkatereloyshipper !! Since the whole purpose of this event was to bump up the number of werewolf and vampire CS fics, and I'd already posted a werewolf fic this year, I came up with a fic that I thought the original Dracula was kinda about. Turns out that I was very wrong. But anyway, it was a lot of fun to write.
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On ao3
On Aug 6, @belovedcreation posted the first chapter of an epic werewolf fic, Can I Be Your Werewolf? featuring lovely artwork from @mie779!! 33 chapters that she just finished posting TODAY, it was an awesome ride from start to finish!!!
On Tumblr
On ao3
On Aug 8, @everything-person shared with us a smorgasbord of ideas that she came up with, but real life intervened and she wasn't able to write full fics for them. HOWEVER, she did make art for them all and shared a snippet of where she wanted to go with each one. Each one was absolutely fantastic and I hope there will come a day when she is able to write the fics and share them with us!!
On Tumblr
On Aug 10, @jonesfandomfanatic posted the first two chs of her fic, Into the Parallel. Now on ch6 of 7, this is an incredible time travel/realm jumper fic that I am absolutely in love with!!!
On Tumblr
On ao3
On Aug 16, @exhaustedpirate posted her second fic of the event, Haunted By the Ghost of You, again with beautiful artwork by @thejollyroger-writer. The first chapter was lovely and heartbreaking in equal measure and I cannot wait to see the happy ending she has promised me will happen. Someday...
On Tumblr
On ao3
On Aug 21, @snowbellewells submitted her second fic of the event, For All Life and For All Time, this fic actually inspired by Dracula. The first of three chs is currently up and I cannot wait to see more of it!!!
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On ao3
On Aug 22, @hollyethecurious posted the first chapter of Once Upon a Grimm, her incredible fic using the lore and some storylines of the TV series Grimm featuring Once characters. @eastwesthomeisbest provided the gorgeous artwork!! We are now two chs in and I can already tell, we are in for a really fun ride!!!
On Tumblr
On ao3
On Aug 24, @wyntereyez posted a second fic to her series Bats In the Belfry. This year's fic, Wool of Bat and Tongue of Dog is a MC and a fantastic follow-up to A Little Batty from last year!!! Artwork by @jrob64 .
On Tumblr
On ao3
On Aug 25, @cocohook38 posted her artwork for last years fic by @iamstartraveller776 To Cleave Destiny. We only have the first ch of the fic posted, but it's amazing already and Jules artwork just gives me chills!!!
Artwork post on Tumblr
Fic on ao3
On Aug 26, @eastwesthomeisbest posted a series of manips of Emma Dressed in Blood. Literally took my breath away!!! Gorgeously creepy!!!
On Tumblr
On Aug 29, @zaharadessert posted the Prologue of her fic, Forget Me Not, with a lovely moodboard made by @exhaustedpirate . This first chapter sets up quite a mystery and I can't wait to see where she goes with this!!!
On Tumblr
On ao3
On Aug 30, @deckerstarblanche posted the final chapter of last year's fic, An Offer She Can't Refuse, with artwork by @undercaffinatednightmare. A super sexy Omegaverse fic, I was soooo thrilled she came back to give CS the happy ending they deserve!!!
On Tumblr
On ao3
Our last fic of the event, Scattered Earth (Mortua Terra), posted just yesterday. Real life intruded and kept @dykelilypage from finishing her fic until last week, but I told her that if she could get it in before I posted the roundup, I'd still include it, and boy did she deliver!!! The fic was absolutely incredible!!! Supernatural investigative reporters Emma Swan and Killian Jones team up to solve a mystery. Utterly perfect artwork done by @eastwesthomeisbest
On Tumblr
On ao3
Well, that's it, y'all!! Our FINAL CSSNS has come to an end!!
Everyone take a moment, take a deep breath, and join me in expressing your appreciation to all the participants this year and over the last six for giving us such PHENOMENAL, INCREDIBLE, FANTASTIC supernatural stories!!! There are still many fics from past years that the authors are still active in fandom and plan on continuing whenever they get a chance. And to that end, this blog is not going anywhere. Whenever an update to a fic posts, I'll be right here to read, flail, and reblog.
Until then, y'all!!!
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Return to Me: A New Fic for CSSNS24
Here is my second fic for the final @cssns!!
Ohhhhhh, I am SO EXCITED to share this fic with you!! I have to tell y'all, I thought I had an idea of what the original Dracula story looked like, and that idea is what inspired this fic. But turns out, I had no idea what Dracula was really about, which shouldn't have surprised me since I've never read the book nor seen any Dracula movie. Too much of a wimp... But anyway, that idea is where this fic came from, even if the idea bore almost no resemblance to the original story. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!
@snowbellewells and @hollyethecurious deserve all the love and long distance internet hugs for their beta work on this fic. They both had suggestions and insights that made it so much better!!! Thank you so much, ladies!!!
@motherkatereloyshipper did her magic AGAIN on the artwork!! Isn't it gorgeous? Please give her ALL the love!!!
Summary: Vampire Killian Jones has been waiting for his bride to return to him for 250yrs, and now that she has, there are a couple of obstacles that must be overcome before they can truly be together. Will they succeed?
*Spoiler Alert*
Of course they will. Happy endings are ALWAYS guaranteed with me...
Words: 7300
Rating: M for violence and smut
Tags: CSSNS24, Vampires, Reincarnation, TLK, Happy Ending, Temporary Major Character Death
On ao3
Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.
@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615
@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings
@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza
@djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic
@anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling
@caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite
@captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose
@thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones
@mie779 @kymbersmith-90 @suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites
Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.
Return to Me
Queen Emma stood at the window in the highest tower of the castle she called home and watched as her love led their army away to fight King Malcolm - the despot of a cobbled together kingdom some leagues away, who’d now turned his sights on adding her husband’s small kingdom to his dominion.
She had no doubt that Killian would ultimately emerge victorious, but she couldn’t help the dread that squeezed her heart as she watched him march away, leading his men into battle. Their kingdom was small but prosperous, their people strong, loyal, and eager to defend their homeland and their Sovereign from the aggression of a very well-known and universally hated tyrant. The people of Malcolm’s kingdom were little more than slaves to his oppression, with no real strength or motivation, other than fear, to conquer strong and well-defended lands.
There was nothing she could do but hope and pray for his safe return to her, so she turned away from the window and prepared herself for the day ahead. She was no stranger to duty and was ready to fulfill hers while her beloved was away. It was important for the remaining people in her kingdom to see and to know that their welfare would not suffer while their Sovereign was absent. And that duty fell now to Emma alone. Just as her husband wouldn’t fail their kingdom, she would prevail in her charge as well.
Many hours later, a large hand slammed over Emma’s mouth, waking her from a sound sleep. The strangled scream that burst from her was muffled both by the offending appendage and the way she struggled within her assailant’s grasp. It was only moments before the hand was replaced with a gag that was stuffed in her mouth and a bag placed over her head. A strong arm was wrapped around her middle as she did everything she could to escape. There were several of them, as evidenced by the grasping hands trying to grab her flailing limbs. They were finally successful, and her hands and legs were bound securely as she was carried through the silent halls of the castle. The guards who should have defended their queen had obviously been dealt with when her kidnappers approached her chambers.
They emerged into the night, evidenced by the slight breeze against her bare arms. She was unceremoniously thrown into a cage of some sort - the wooden bars solid and tearing at her exposed skin. She tried to stand in her prison as, with a jerk, they began to move, but her tied hands and feet made that impossible. She fell into a heap, tears of pain and fear filling her eyes.
Still blinded by the bag over her head - the stink of it making it difficult to draw a deep breath - Emma tried her best to keep her wits about her and not panic.
Who were these men and where were they taking her?
~*~*~
She must have fallen asleep at some point in their journey, because she was jerked into wakefulness when they came to a sudden stop. The air didn’t seem as close now as when they set out from the castle, and the sounds of many horses and low murmurs among the clanking of iron told her she was in the camp of an army. King Malcolm must have sent men to kidnap her to give him an advantage in the coming battle. She could hear her captors dismounting and coming to the door of her cage.
She positioned herself as far away from the door as she possibly could. There was blessed little hope for escape, but she wouldn’t make it easy for them. The gate of her prison was opened and, from the lurching tilt of the cage, she knew the man who’d just climbed inside was quite large. She held her breath waiting for him to put his hands on her. She suppressed a shudder of revulsion as a large hand wrapped around her bound ankles and began to pull her forward. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as his stench reached her. The moment she perceived that she was close enough, she pulled her head back and then forcefully jerked it forward, hoping beyond hope that she’d make contact with some tender part of her aggressor’s anatomy.
A sickening crunch and a howl of pain reached her ears a moment later. The hand around her ankles disappeared, and Emma began kicking her legs, trying to keep anyone else from laying their hands on her person. But her victory was short-lived. Similar to the night before, strong arms wrapped around her middle and hauled her bodily out of the cage she’d traveled in.
She twisted and flailed as much as she could while in her captor’s grasp, until she was put down on her feet and tied securely to some kind of post or tree. Only then was the bag over her head removed.
She blinked furiously against the bright morning sunlight that was just cresting the hill on which she stood. Once her eyes focused, she could see the army bearing the colors of her kingdom on the opposite hill, on the other side of a small valley where the two armies would presumably meet in battle. The army and her beloved were too far away to see clearly, but she now knew with certainty who had kidnapped her and also had a pretty good idea of his plans for her.
She turned her head to the side to see King Malcolm, a gloating sneer on his face. Finally seeing him in person rather than conjuring him in her mind's eye, he wasn’t nearly as impressive as the tales made him out to be. He was only slightly taller than she was - certainly not as tall as Killian - stocky, and with straight hair the color of dirt. His teeth were yellow, though the beard and mustache he sported was neatly trimmed.
He stroked his chin as he moved toward her. “It’s a shame that I’ve already bound myself to Lady Fiona,” he mused, his sneer turning lascivious as he looked her up and down. “You’d make quite a lovely bride…”
His words came to a sudden stop when Emma spit in his face. He roughly grabbed her chin in his hand and moved closer to her, his face inches from her own. He stank, like the rest of his men, and Emma was glad she’d had nothing to eat for hours, or she would surely lose it from the foulness invading her nostrils.
“Now you listen here, you draggle-tail.” The sneer was back in full force, and Emma glared with all the animosity she held in her heart for this foul coward of a man. “The only reason you’re still alive is because I want to be sure King Killian sees what happens to those who defy me.” He turned away from her, and over his shoulder she could just see the line of her kingdom’s army charging down the hill toward the valley.
They were too far. He was too far. He’d never reach her in time. A calm resolve settled about her shoulders. King Malcolm intended to kill her to punish Killian. She could see him now at the front of the army, though he was still too far to make out any details of his beloved face.
She thought back over the past weeks and months of their lives together. Killian approaching her father to arrange their marriage. The flutter in her heart and instant connection she felt with him when she saw him for the first time as she entered the church to join her life to his. After their wedding, when she was escorted to her chambers - Killian explaining that he did not expect consummation of their marriage when they’d only met a few hours ago at the altar - turning to her husband and informing him that she expected consummation and would be sharing his bed henceforth. Killian’s affectionate appellation the exchange engendered. The days, and nights, since then, the love and happiness they’d found together.
She gasped in pain as the blade King Malcolm carried found its mark. Numbness spread through her body from the fatal wound as her lifeblood spilled to the ground below.
She could see Killian now, far enough ahead of the main line of the army, even as darkness encroached on her vision. His scream of anguish reached her ears even as she sagged against her bonds, her strength failing her. Her vision was blurring, but she struggled to keep her eyes on him until the last possible moment.
I love you, Killian.
Then her eyes closed and Emma knew no more.
~*~*~
Many, MANY years later
Killian awoke from his slumber at dusk, yet another long and lonely night stretched out before him. No different from every other night. He sighed, melancholy settling on his shoulders like a cloak. He didn’t know how much longer he could endure this lonely existence. But when he thought of the future - the future he was waiting for, that he’d been promised - he knew he could wait forever. To the end of the world, or time.
As he moved through the corridors of the castle, something came over him. He could smell a freshness in the air, a sense of anticipation that rivaled the longing for spring when the first crocuses and snowdrops pushed through the frozen ground.
Turning his attention to the village below his castle, he sent forth his preternatural hearing to try and locate the source of this difference in the air. The village was growing quiet as shopkeepers closed their doors, children were called inside, and families gathered around the table for the evening meal. All was as it should be. As King of this tiny kingdom, he took his duty to see to the welfare of his people seriously. Just as he had during his days of life. Even if it wasn’t strictly necessary any longer.
The inn on the edge of the village drew his attention as he focused in on the newcomer who’d just entered the common room. The kingdom didn’t have visitors. Since the day his existence had changed, no one but those specifically traveling here for some reason had ever come. So this man had a reason for being here, and Killian needed to know what it was. The man’s voice had an oddly familiar huskiness to it - something about the cadence and inflection, the way he uttered the words more than the words themselves - that made Killian want - no, need - to see exactly who spoke.
With a wave of his hand, he transformed into a bat and quickly flew down to the large pine tree in the open courtyard of the inn. This particular perch would give him a good vantage point to see inside both the stables and the common room, as well as many of the private rooms inside, in case he wasn’t immediately able to put eyes on the speaker who had brought him down to the village in the first place.
He hung upside down from one of the lower boughs of the tree, peering inside the common room, when the freshness of the air he’d noticed earlier permeated his concentration causing him to turn his attention to the stables. An involuntary gasp in the form of a high pitched squeak- too high for humans to hear- left him as his eyes beheld his love for the first time in centuries.
His shock was profound as he transformed back to himself and hid in the shadows of the huge tree. Blood tears filled his eyes as they eagerly drank in everything about his Swan - his pet name for his beloved bride because of her beauty and fierceness if provoked. Long golden hair that curled slightly was gathered at the crown of her head, but still hung down to her shoulder blades. His keen eyesight could see the green of her eyes and even the dimples on her chin and on either side of her full pink mouth that he’d traced many times with his tongue in the throes of passion. It was all the time he had before she entered the common room of the inn, shutting the door tightly behind her.
Killian moved to the window, still careful to remain in the shadows, to see if she joined the man he was seeking or if she was traveling alone. She sat down at a table across from a man whose countenance tickled the edges of Killian’s memory, but he couldn’t quite place him. They were sitting close enough to the window that he had no trouble hearing their conversation.
“Neal, what is going on here?” she asked, furtively looking around, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You bring me to this… place… not on any map, out in the middle of nowhere with no explanation other than you have some mission to fulfill before the wedding. This looks straight out of, I don’t know, almost Medieval times. No paved roads, or vehicles for that matter, other than carts and horses. The women are all dressed like…” She looked down and motioned vaguely at her own attire of pants tucked into tall boots and a close-fitting shirt with no evidence of a corset underneath, all covered by a red leather jacket that barely skimmed her waist. “Not like me.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “It’s like time stood still here.” She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “I think it’s time you told me exactly what this mission is and why we’re here.”
Just at that moment, the innkeeper approached their table holding two keys. “Dr. Cassidy, Miss Swan,” he began. Killian was shaken down to his marrow to hear his own sobriquet applied as a proper name to his reincarnated love. She looked at the innkeeper confusion furrowing her brow.
“We’re together,” she informed him. “We just need one room.”
The innkeeper shook his head. “Separate rooms for men and women who are not married,” he informed her. “King Killian would never allow otherwise.” He left the keys on the table and withdrew just as one of the serving girls laid down plates of roasted chicken, vegetables, and fresh baked bread in front of them.
The consternation on her visage was very familiar, and Killian felt a surge of inexpressible joy that brought a wide smile to his lips.
“Is he kidding?” she asked this Dr. Neal Cassidy. The stare she pinned him with was also very familiar, and Killian could almost feel sorry for the man as he seemed to squirm a bit under her intense gaze. “Explain. Now,” she continued. “What is this place? What are we doing here?”
The man leaned across the table and lowered his voice, obviously not wanting to be overheard.
“Ems,” he began, glancing around to make sure there was no one near enough to hear him. Too bad he didn’t know Killian stood just on the other side of the wall and could hear every word that proceeded from his lips. “The reason we’re here - the mission - is to kill…” His love’s eyes widened as Dr. Cassidy glanced around again to be sure there was still no one within earshot, “a vampire.”
Killian let out a resigned breath as full recognition flooded him. Here we go again, he thought. The reason this Dr. Cassidy sounded, and then looked, vaguely familiar to him was because he was of King Malcolm’s bloodline. The last in a long, long line of adversaries who refused to leave him in peace.
“A… vampire?” she asked, incredulously. “But…”
“Don’t say they don’t exist,” Cassidy interrupted, his hand waving dismissively about. “I can assure you, they do. And this one has had a vendetta against my family for 250 years.” Killian could clearly see the disbelief in his love’s eyes as the man continued his impassioned explanation. “This vampire has killed every single one of my male ancestors, from my own father to my great-great-great-whatever going back to 1768. Why, I have no idea. But I didn’t want us to begin our lives together with this shadow hanging over us. So I’m here to kill him, before he comes after me. And I will succeed.”
The words took a moment to register, but once they did, Killian’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in suspicion. This man, this Dr. Cassidy - descendent of Malcolm, the man who’d… - was planning to marry his Swan. He stood rooted in the shadows unable to do anything but watch and seethe in helpless fury.
“Neal…” she began, doubt and confusion in her eyes. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” he insisted, interrupting her rudely. “Look, I know it sounds crazy, but you wanted an explanation and you got it. Just trust me, ok?”
“Fine,” she said, though her eyes told a different story altogether. “Let’s say I trust you, and vampires are real.” The skepticism in her tone was on full display, and Killian knew she still didn’t believe Dr. Cassidy’s words. “What if you don’t kill him?” she asked. “What if he kills you, too?”
“He won’t,” he assured her, reaching across the table toward her. “We’ll attack during the day, while he’s asleep. A stake to the heart and cutting off his head will ensure his death. Then we can return home, get married, and live our lives in peace.”
Killian ground his teeth in anger at the lies Dr. Cassidy was spinning. Why the man felt the need for deception about the history between his family - King Malcolm’s progeny - and Killian himself, he could only speculate. But the man was obviously not worthy to call his Swan his own.
“And you know how to find him?” she asked.
Dr. Cassidy nodded and pulled out a small notebook. “This has been handed down to me from my father and from his father before him. Everything we need to know to kill the creature is right here.” He opened the book and flipped to a page with a map. “This is a map of the castle, so yes, I know exactly how to find him.”
They finished their meal in relative silence. Once they’d satisfied their respective appetites, they each took a key and walked toward the stairs on the other side of the common room. Killian’s gaze fixed on Dr. Cassidy. He had some plans to make before he’d surely face this latest adversary come dawn.
~*~*~
Emma Swan rummaged through her duffle and pulled out her sleep shorts and tank top as she tried and failed to put Neal’s words from her mind.
Something about his explanation didn’t ring true to her. She had a sixth sense type of thing- she likened it to a superpower- but she could always tell when someone was lying to her. And as she ran back over his words about the vampire, she knew he was not telling her the truth. Not about the vampire himself, though. As unbelievable as his words were, they were not the rambling mutterings of a madman. And her superpower had been completely silent when he spoke about its existence. It was only when he spoke of the reason for the vampire’s vendetta that her intuition awoke, telling her of his deception. He had to know why, why the vampire was targeting his family. That was the only thing he said that wasn’t straight facts. For some reason though, he didn’t want her to know what the reason was.
She crawled into bed, closed her eyes, and prayed sleep would find her quickly.
It seemed only minutes later that Emma felt a feather light brush against her cheek and heard whispered words laden with tender affection.
“Emma. Emma, my Swan.”
Her eyelids fluttered open and her gaze landed on the most handsome man she’d ever seen. There was something very familiar about him, though she couldn’t say just what it was. It didn’t even occur to her to be alarmed at the presence of a strange man in her room. His hair was black as midnight and his blue eyes shone in the moonlight spilling into the room. His skin was unnaturally pale and neatly trimmed scruff the same color as his hair covered his jaw. He was tall and well built. His pants clung to the long lean muscles in his legs and he wore a dark shirt that wouldn’t look out of place on a pirate of old underneath a red brocade vest.
“Who are you?” she asked as she sat up in the bed. “How do you know my name? What are you doing here?”
He knelt beside her bed and extended his hand toward her. She placed her hand in his, feeling inexplicably drawn toward him.
“I am Killian Jones,” he said. His voice was low and rich and it wrapped around her like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night. “I am the Sovereign of these lands, and you are my love. I’ve waited for you for 250 years.”
“What?!” she cried, pulling her hand from his. His last words made her mind race back to what Neal had said earlier as she quickly put the pieces together. “You’re the vampire!” She couldn’t contain the horror in her voice or, she was sure, on her face. “Oh, God! You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” She could hardly believe what she was seeing, visual confirmation of Neal’s words. She pulled her legs toward her chest and scooted as close to the head of the bed as she could, trying to present as small a target as was possible. “Why me? Neal said you targeted his family! I’m not his family, yet!”
“No, my Swan,” he assured her, gentle compassion beset on his features, his hand still outstretched, her superpower as silent as could be. “I am not here to kill you. You are my bride. Returned to me. As promised.”
Bride? Returned to me? As promised? “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Nobody promised anyone anything!” she exclaimed. Without fully realizing what she was doing, she extended a hand towards him, and he gently clasped her fingers.
Love. A deep and abiding love that she’d never known swept over her as pictures filled her mind. Pictures narrated by the man kneeling before her.
“King Malcolm demanded tribute from our small but prosperous kingdom. He was nothing but a tyrant, and I refused. Our people were loyal and strong, and I knew that we could defeat him if it came to battle. The dawn when we were to meet, our lookout ran to me with his spyglass. I opened it and trained it across the valley to where his army was mustered.”
A gasp of profound grief filled her mind as she saw what Killian saw through the spyglass. A woman tied to a post, her face covered with a dark bag. The obvious leader of the army, King Malcolm, grabbed the bag off of the woman’s head, her long blonde hair settling about her shoulders. There wasn’t time to get a good look at her face, but the scream of anguish from Killian told her that whoever it was, was someone of great import to him. He sounded the advance - the thunder of hooves and battle cries of the men deafening in Emma’s mind. Watching the scene now through Killian’s eyes, as they got closer to the opposing army, King Malcolm drew his blade across the throat of the blonde woman, Killian’s cry of fury now filling her mind. The armies met, and Killian was relentless against his adversaries until he met King Malcolm himself. The fighting between the two men was brief - Killian obviously a far superior swordsman. It was only moments before Killian’s sword was buried in his enemy’s gut, withdrawn and brought down again where King Malcolm’s neck met his shoulder, literally slicing the man in two.
The battle was over, and Killian rushed to the dead woman on the other side of the valley. Emma watched through Killian’s eyes as he gently turned her face towards him. Emma’s breath caught and she couldn’t look away from the ashen visage of Killian’s beloved- her own face. His grief and despair poured from his lips as he gathered his love to his chest, uncaring of her blood that covered him.
Killian’s narration resumed.
“King Malcolm was soundly defeated, paying for his hubris with his life. But not before he took my greatest treasure away from me. My Swan, my bride, my Emma. We’d only been married a few months when I rode away to war. If I’d known what his plans were…”
His words drifted off for a moment before resuming again. “I’d heard of a witch who lived in the woods near the border of our kingdom. I’d left her in peace because, to my knowledge, she didn’t use her magic for nefarious purposes. I took the body of my beloved to her, mad in my grief, hoping that something could be done to bring my love back to me.”
Emma watched as Killian emerged into a clearing with a small hut on the opposite side. She could smell the woodsmoke tinged with aromatic herbs from the chimney. Could hear his gasping cries and the sound of his pounding fist upon the door. When it opened, Emma gasped in horror. The witch had no face. Long matted red hair framed a pale visage with thick black stitches where her eyes should be. She spoke in an otherworldly whisper as she invited Killian Jones in.
He laid the body of his beloved on a pallet on the floor and begged the witch to do something, anything. Holding her hands out in front of her, Emma gasped again at the bright blue eyes in the center of each of the witch’s palms. She slowly moved her arms back and forth, the eyes darting around, before she began to speak.
“I am powerless against the bonds of death, Killian Jones,” she murmured, but with an undertone that reminded Emma of the swell of the ocean pounding against the rocks of the seashore. “But know this, your love will return to you one day, not by my hand and many lifetimes hence. I will give you a potion that will enable you to live until that time. When she returns to you, her True Love's Kiss will restore you to life and you will live out your days in peace.”
The witch fell silent and her arms dropped to her side, the unnerving eyes now covered from Emma’s sight. The witch turned to a shelf laden with bottles and her hands moved surely among them until they settled on the one she sought. She turned back to Killian and handed him the bottle before speaking again.
“Drinking this will give you endless life, and will freeze time within the confines of your kingdom. The night will be your domain, and you will thirst for blood. Until the time your True Love returns to you.”
Killian uncorked the bottle and downed the contents in one go. It was only seconds later that he doubled over in excruciating pain, his cries surely reaching far beyond the woods in which they all stood. It seemed forever to Emma, but his cries finally came to an end and he straightened upright again. His eyes darted around the hut before landing on the witch. Emma could feel the struggle within him - his thirst for blood was overwhelming, but his gratitude for the witch’s prophecy and the potion kept him from slaking that thirst on the first available person he met. His hands shook as he reached out toward her, expressing his thanks. He turned and picked up his bride and quickly took his leave. It wasn’t far into the woods before the thirst took him completely. He hid his love and found a deer to satisfy his hunger. Emma had never hunted anything in her life and couldn’t watch this particular scene. As she waited for it to be over, she heard his voice in her head again.
“Since this time, I have never left my lands.” His voice was sad, resigned, the weight of centuries contained within it. “I’ve only left my halls to feed on the animals of the forest as I waited for you to return to me. Malcolm was the first, but he was by no means the last, to seek to forcibly take my dominion from me. Over the centuries, father and then son have sought to destroy me, but all have failed. Your Dr. Cassidy is the last of that line. Each one has come after me. I have never, in 250 years, sought them out. Malcolm was the one who took you from me, and he tasted my wrath. I held no ill will toward his progeny. I have only ever defended myself against their aggression.”
The scenes came to an end, and Emma was back in her room in the inn, Killian Jones, still gently holding her hand in his own, kneeling before her.
“I knew he was lying,” she whispered. “He said he didn’t know why you targeted his family, but you didn’t. They targeted you.” He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “His great-great…” Emma shook her head slightly, “whatever murdered your love… Murdered… me?” He nodded again. “And you’ve been waiting for me to return to you all this time.” Emma’s heart broke at the sadness in his eyes, and she moved to the edge of her bed, placing her feet on the floor, only inches separating them. “I can’t. I won’t allow this to happen.” She brought her hand to his face and cupped his jaw before lifting his face to hers and placing a gentle kiss to his lips.
A prism of rainbow colors blew through the room, and Emma gasped as she pulled back from him. Memories of her previous life flooded her mind - the contract of marriage drawn up between her father and Killian, her love for him from the moment she laid eyes on her betrothed, the swan nickname that he’d called her when she insisted on sharing his bed on their wedding night. She remembered the happy days of their lives before Killian had ridden off to defend their home from Malcolm and then being kidnapped and murdered on a high hill, her beloved on the other side of the small valley that lay between them.
“Killian,” she cried, falling into his arms where he still knelt on the floor. She kissed him fiercely, her hands in his hair, her body held in strong arms and lined up against his from their knees to their lips. They separated briefly, and Emma thought she could drown in the bottomless pools of blue that stared back at her. His skin was no longer pale, but glowed with youth and health. Her fingers trailed lightly down his face to his neck where she could feel his pulse fluttering under her fingers.
“Emma,” he whispered. “You’ve returned to me, and brought me back to life.” He was too overcome to say anymore and rose to his feet, his beloved still in his arms. Taking a deep breath, he was completely without words to express the love and joy flowing through him, not to mention the blood flowing through his veins! He was alive! At long last! He lived again, and his Emma, his Swan, was in his arms after 25o years. He captured her lips with his, teeth and tongues clashing with all the fervor of lovers long separated, finally reunited.
He lowered her to the bed and drew back, his eyes raking over his beloved, taking her in from head to toe - green eyes like emeralds glazed with passion, blonde hair fanned out over her pillow, her lips were red and kiss swollen, her chest heaved, nipples at attention as she struggled to catch her breath. Her long long legs writhed on the bed, seeking friction for the arousal she clearly felt.
“You are so beautiful, my Swan,” he murmured. His fingers trailed lightly down her arms, then sought the bare skin underneath the bodice she wore. She gasped and grasped the bottom of the garment before drawing it over her head in one smooth movement, baring her breasts to him.
Killian quickly removed his own clothing as she took her bottoms off before returning to her on the bed. Stretching out beside his love, his fingers lightly grazed the side of her breast as his mouth sought hers again. His moan of rapture came from the depths of his very soul. His beloved wife was returned to him. There were times over the past two and a half centuries that he despaired of ever seeing this day, but now that it was here, it seemed all these years without her were but a blink of an eye.
The fervent and frantic motions between them calmed when Killian captured her lips. Emma clung to him, drawing him closer and closer to where she desperately needed him. Her hands traced the long lines of his back from his shoulders to his ass, and delighted at the lean strength she found there. She rolled to her back, bringing him with her, settling him between her legs. Pressing her hips against his hardness, she shuddered at the exquisite pleasure that raced down her spine.
Killian released her lips and dipped his tongue into the two dimples on either side of her mouth and the one on her chin, just as he had remembered doing earlier this evening when beholding her for the first time in so long. He worked his way down the graceful slope of her neck, nibbling and biting, leaving open mouth kisses and raising gooseflesh in his wake. He circled one nipple and then the other with his tongue before drawing it into the warm cavern of his mouth, sucking gently. Her moan of pleasure went straight to his cock and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to wait to be inside her until he brought her to the pinnacle of ecstasy.
“Killian,” she breathed, writhing beneath him. “Killian, please. I need you so much.”
“Patience, dearest,” he replied in between kisses down her torso. “I must quench my thirst on you now.” She released her breath on a shaky exhale as he spread her legs and blew gently on her soaked folds. Killian couldn’t help but chuckle as she squirmed, but his need was also great, so he dove into the decadent feast laid out before him and was rewarded with a burst of sweetness on his tongue and a high pitched cry from his beloved signaling her climax. He lapped up every drop she bestowed on him before moving up her delectable body once again. Capturing her lips once more, he lined himself up with her channel and pushed into her scorching hot depths.
“Emma,” he cried, “How I love you!” He began to move, slowly at first, but then with more speed as his passion overtook him.
“I love you, too, Killian,” she moaned. “Take me. Mark me. Make me yours! Please!”
“I have missed you… so much… my love…” He buried his face in her neck and obliging her words, sucked on her pulse point, drawing heat to the surface of her skin. Her walls gripped him as she fell again, and he could hold himself back no longer, emptying himself into her with a roar of euphoria.
He collapsed onto his love, but couldn’t open his eyes for several minutes, his newly alive body utterly exhausted. When he could move again, he rolled off of her and gathered her into his arms, nuzzling and kissing her neck. She hummed in satisfaction and met his lips with her own.
“At times, I would despair that this day would ever come,” he murmured into her lips.
“But I’m here now. And I’ll never leave you,” she promised him. “We need to do something about Neal. He plans to kill you come dawn.”
Killian chuckled amusedly. “Let him come. I’m human again. I won’t be asleep like he expects. I’ll be waiting for him.”
“Let me,” Emma said, her green eyes flashing, her voice filled with passion. “His ancestor started all this - trying to take everything from you and separating us for 250 years by murder, no less. And Neal lied to me about you. Allow me recompense for all that he and his ancestors have taken from us.”
Killian stroked her cheek tenderly. “As you wish, my love.” He gathered her close, her head resting on his chest. “Once we awaken in the morning, you’ll meet him and I’ll slip away to the castle. I’ll be waiting for you in the great hall.” He smiled gently at her. “We will resume our rule of this land, side by side. As it should be.”
“I can’t wait,” Emma murmured. She reached up and kissed him gently before settling her head back on his chest again. It wasn’t long before her breaths evened out and deepened, indicating her peaceful slumber. Killian struggled to remain awake for just a few minutes more of finally holding his love in his arms again after so long. He stroked her hair gently and kissed the top of her head before his eyes slowly closed.
~*~*~
Killian peeled his eyes open and sat up, alarmed, to find himself alone in his chambers at his castle. The magic within him - that bound him and his kingdom - always made sure that he was safely ensconced in his castle before dawn. And the remnants he could feel now left within him must have done the same. Even if it was no longer necessary. He gasped in fear and looked down at his hands in a panic, terrified he might find it was a dream and he was still a vampire. The sun was just beginning to rise over the trees and into his chambers and he could clearly see that his hands were warm and pink with life, rather than the pale ashen color he’d seen for so long.
He rose from his bed, still naked, his eyes darting around his chambers. It was dawn, and he was awake! He was alive! He hadn’t seen the sun in 250 years and it was glorious! The comparison to Emma’s hair was completely unavoidable.
Emma!
She’d be here with Dr. Cassidy soon, and Killian needed to prepare himself. He dressed himself carefully and proceeded to the great hall to receive his guests.
~*~*~
Emma and Neal approached the castle, bold as brass. When she’d awoken alone that morning, Killian’s clothes were still scattered around the room, testimony to the night of passion she’d shared with her love, besides the sizable hickey he’d left on her neck. She’d needed to leave her hair down to hide it from Neal when they left the inn on horseback about forty-five minutes before. Now they could clearly see the gates of the castle, wide open.
As if they were expected.
It was exactly the same as her memories of her past life. As they passed under the portcullis, she knew what she’d see - the wide courtyard where the market day was held weekly, or the army Killian commanded practiced drills. They approached the keep, and Emma held her breath. Neal strutted forward as if he was the lord of this castle, and Emma ground her teeth in anger.
She followed behind him as he consulted the notebook he’d shown her the night before. They continued through the halls of the castle until they entered the Great Hall. Emma’s heart leapt to see Killian on the other side, silently waiting for them.
“Killian,” she cried, running to him, completely uncaring about Neal’s reaction. He rose to his feet, unspeakable joy on his face. Catching her in his arms, their lips met in a kiss so full of passion, she never wanted it to end.
Much too soon for her liking, Killian pulled back.
“My love,” he whispered, trailing his fingers down her cheek. The move was so full of tenderness, it made Emma want to weep.
She met his sapphire gaze with her own and whispered. “Soon,” she assured him before turning to Neal, who stood dumbfounded where she’d left him by the doors. Taking slow, deliberate steps, Emma crossed the room until she stood just a few feet away from her former fiancé.
“I imagine you have some questions,” she began. “Are you wondering how we could possibly know each other, what that kiss was about, exactly what is going on here? I am very happy to answer those questions,” she said with a satisfied smirk on her face. She paused for a moment, before taking another slow and deliberate step toward him. “But not before you hear what I have to say to you.”
Another step.
“You lied to me,” she accused softly. “You said that this monster had a vendetta against your family, and you didn’t know why. When actually, it was the other way around. Your family held on to a hopeless vendetta against him.” The blood drained out of Neal’s face, and Emma couldn’t help the small smile that touched her lips. “You and each of your male ancestors have come against him. Never has he come against you. Not once in two-hundred-fifty years.”
“Emma…”
“Now, for the questions… And the answer is really all rolled up into one. What exactly is going on here? Justice. You came here, the last in a long long line, expecting to finally destroy the vampire whom you claim has plagued your family for centuries. When actually, my True Love and I will be exacting retribution for your and your family’s crimes against us.”
Neal’s voice shook as he whispered, “True Love?”
“Yes,” she replied. “True Love. And you want to know how I know?” She nodded at him, a knowing and gleeful smile on her face. “I know because after he told me the truth, his kiss brought the memories of my past life back to me and brought him back to life again. This vampire has waited for me to return to him after your ancestor murdered me in cold blood, in full view of him and the armies they both led. Since then, your family has come against him, over and over again, until this very day. You are the last. And you will be the last. With no son to take up your vendetta, we will live out the rest of our lives in peace.”
With those words, Emma reached into the bag at her side where she carried all the weapons Neal had brought along on his fruitless quest. Quick as lightning, she pulled out the wickedly sharp wooden stake that he’d planned to plunge into Killian’s chest and plunged it into his neck. Blood poured through his fingers, too much to be stopped. He staggered forward, his other arm reaching for her, his eyes glazed and unseeing. Emma stepped back out of his reach into Killian’s warm embrace.
It was only moments before he was completely still. Emma turned to face her True Love and was shocked to see tears in his eyes.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s over,” he said in a whisper.
“It’s over,” she repeated, nodding gently.
“And you’ve returned to me.” A tear slowly tracked down his face as he looked into her eyes and tenderly, reverently stroked her cheek.
“And I’ve returned to you.” She lifted her hand to his face and drew him down to her lips, her kiss promising forever.
The End
~*~*~
Thank you so much for reading and sharing! I'd love to know what you think!!
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Listening to OUAT music and thinking: “If Dr. Frankenstein, The Count of Monte Cristo, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde as well as Greek Goods are all considered ‘fairytales’ in their world, does that mean Dracula could’ve been a character in Storybrooke?”
Another thing: Red Riding Hood (who, mind you, is a werewolf herself) states that she’s read stories about ‘men turning into wolves’; i.e werewolves are stories/legends in a world were fairytales are real-so at what point in this world are classical literature/folktales/fairytales real and which just remain stories?
#can you IMAGINE dracula being a canonical character in Ouat I think i’d die#personal#textpost#the poptart cat speaks#ouat#adam and eddy hire me
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I posted 3,305 times in 2022
That's 1,882 more posts than 2021!
7 posts created (0%)
3,298 posts reblogged (100%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
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I tagged 916 of my posts in 2022
#dracula daily - 233 posts
#ouat - 33 posts
#goncharov - 24 posts
#once upon a time - 22 posts
#psa - 17 posts
#queen's thief - 11 posts
#elon musk - 9 posts
#backreading dracula daily - 9 posts
#skipping the queue - 9 posts
#incredible - 8 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#i sometimes have like a dozen that are still sitting on my default new tab page just because i opened one and then remembered there's a tab
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Not a day will go by (9/?)
Hello my patient friends! Sorry for the wait! It won't be this long again (for real this time)! This is a Christmas fic for last year's Secret Santa, and I've given myself a deadline to finish it before this year's secret Santa. Specifically, I'm trying to finish before December 18, which is mine and @cosette141's birthday! Thanks so much to everyone who's still reading and leaving comments--they keep me going when my brain refuses to write! Thanks especially to @MotherKat for being the best beta EVER! I'm going all out in November, and I've actually already got Chapter 10 written!! So it won't be too long!
Tagging: @resident-of-storybrooke, @everything-person, @teamhook
AO3 Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9
Summary: He may not remember his present, but she doesn't know his past. If she did, she wouldn't have married him… right?
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19 notes - Posted November 5, 2022
#4
Not a day will go by (10/?)
OK, confession: I've had this one mostly-finished for a couple weeks. Nervous about it! Finally earning the M-rating, although it definitely goes nowhere near E. Not a thing I've done before, so your patience is appreciated! I'm really hoping I can finish the fic this month! Wish me luck! Thanks as always to @motherkatereloyshipper for her EXCEPTIONAL beta-ing, and for this BEAUTIFUL cover I just edited in! If you find any errors, they were probably my last-minute pre-post edits!
Tagging: @resident-of-storybrooke @everything-person, @teamhook
AO3 Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10
Summary: Hook gets a chance to get to know his wife.
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20 notes - Posted December 3, 2022
#3
Not a day will go by (7/?)
APRIL FOOL'S.
Get it? The joke is, you thought you were definitely not getting an update of this fic today, but actually YOU DID. The first of 2022 (yikes)!
But seriously, so sorry it took me this long! ADHD is apparently the boss of me much more than I would like. But I'm hoping to get back on--not nearly an every-day posting schedule, but definitely better than every-four-months.
Thanks a bazillion to @motherkatereloyshipper for coincidentally being awake at a million o'clock her time and willing to beta so I could post this on April Fool's!
Tagging: @resident-of-storybrooke @everything-person @teamhook
AO3 Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7
Summary: Captain Hook wakes up in a strange bed, next to a woman he does not remember. He finds nothing particularly unusual about this situation. But the woman seems to know him very well.
In Storybrooke, there’s only one surefire way to get back a lost memory. And it’s not going to work until he loves her.
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20 notes - Posted April 1, 2022
#2
My beautiful complete set, + a bonus first edition I got from a Secret Santa and the Spanish edition I’m working through! Somewhere I have the Vince Natale edition of The Thief, but I lent it to a student. I’d... better get that back before graduation, huh?
I think I might already have a somewhat more matched set in my classroom, at least part of it. I don’t mind whether I win or not, I just really wanted to share my beauties!
25 notes - Posted April 1, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
My fellow Friends of Jonathan on the Discord were talking about who they picture when imagine Quincey P. Morris. There were many excellent answers, like Owen Wilson, Woody Harrelson, and Daniel Craig doing his Benoit Blanc accent.
I apologize profusely but my answer is Doug Dimmadome, owner of the Dimmsdale Dimmadome. .
42 notes - Posted May 26, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
#this is so funny though#my Original Content rounds to 0%#and my number one post is about Doug Dimmadome#like yup that tracks#tumblr2022#year in review#my 2022 tumblr year in review#your tumblr year in review
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CHARACTER INFORMATION:
**CHARACTER NAME:** Robin Hood/Robin of Locksley
**CHARACTER FACECLAIM:** Tom Ellis
**CHARACTER AGE/DOB (if from enchanted forest, general age okay):** October 14th, 35(?)
**CHARACTER PRONOUNS/GENDER IDENTITY/SEXUALITY ETC:** he/him, cismale, very bisexual,
**CHARACTER FANDOM:** once upon a time
**OC OR CANON:** Canon
**WHICH LAND ARE THEY FROM (examples: earth, enchanted forest, wonderland, monsterland [frankenstein, dracula, vamps etc], neverland):** Enchanted forest
**CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY:**
- Robin started off as a communist petty thief because why should rich people get to have all the fun while the rest of us are dying?
- Tinkerbell tried playing Cupid to hook up him and Regina because they were true loves but Regina hates poor people so she didn’t pursue him :/. They have vibes tho
- Years later he tried stealing a horse from a farmer only to be threatened by Marian. He was turned on by this so they got married.
- He got wifed up and opens a tavern. The Sheriff of Nottingham doubled his taxes because rich people are greedy. The whole arch with Rumpelstiltskin happens and then he is glamoured to be hidden from the dark one. He decides he goes back to thieving but only stealing from the rich and giving to the poor #communist.
- He is stealing and everything but Marian gets sick. So he tries to steal a magic wand to cure her from Rumple who is now the beast but gets caught :/. Him and belle have a moment and she frees him and finds out why he was stealing in the first place. They capture him again and they agree to let him go
- Marian dies after his son is born :/.
- Changing canon a wee bit and saying he was in storybrook but was a barkeeper with a questionable past.
OOC INFORMATION:
MUN NAME/ALIAS: Az
MUN AGE: 27
MUN PRONOUNS: he/himbo
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I've been seriously considering writing a dracula arc as part of season 6. In my version the heroes of Dracula failed to kill him- instead he was thrown in his casket in the river, no way to escape, but our heroes knew it was inevitable for him to return someday- and without them around to save mina and avenge lucy. and so, our heroes (quincey included!!!) flee to the land of untold stories to wait for the opportune moment to strike against dracula- until hyde brings them all to storybrooke...
I still think Count Dracula would have been a fun arc villain for OUAT. It would have given us a chance to learn more about the World Without Color, and an actual vampire trying to turn or eat everyone in town would have been a nice change of pace from Evil Mage Trying To Cast A Powerful Spell.
But primarily, it’s a chance to have some dark comedy. As we all found out in the emails from our good friend Jonathan, he is capable of being both monstrously threatening and completely ridiculous.
Have Dr. Whale see the pinpricks on someone’s neck, notice the severe and chronic blood loss and go: ‘okay this going to sound crazy but hear me out…’
Have Dracula throw Wolf!Ruby through a window to try to get into someone’s house.
Have David at least TRY to hit the guy with a car.
But, most importantly, when the big bad in question tries to drink Emma’s blood, good ole Drac spends a full minute hacking and wheezing because it turns out a mouthful of Savior blood is like drinking holy water. Or acid.
I just think it would be a fun fanfic
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SE VOCÊ PRECISAR DA NOSSA NOVA HABITANTE, TALVEZ ELA ESTEJA EM SEU CAIXÃO… Ela costumava se chamar CELAENA, do conto DRACULA, e antes da névoa da maldição arrastá-la até Storybrooke, ela estava no REINO DE TENEBRIS, lá na FLORESTA ENCANTADA. Aqui na cidade você talvez a encontre se procurar por uma tal de SABRINA SCHNEIDER que é PROPRIETÁRIA DA ACADEMIA RAGING FIRE.
(㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ) — before the curse
Tudo é sempre o mesmo, até que deixa de ser. Você não se dá conta das coisas boas de sua vida, não nota a necessidade de ar, de calor, não ter percepção do que é estar vivo, até não estar mais. Quando Celaena tinha certeza de que morreria, como uma das oito milhões de pessoas que morreram durante a Guerra dos Trinta anos, a alemã foi surpreendida com vida. Mas não a vida que ela conhecia. Não a vida que fazia ela respirar, não a vida que fazia o sangue quente correr por suas veias. A alemã era mais forte, mais rápida, mas temia o sol e a sede insaciável que sentia.
Se tornar vampira foi um processo. Começou com os anos que demorara para aceitar sua condição: lutava contra a sede, arriscava-se no sol, tentava conviver com os humanos como se fosse como eles. Levou outros anos até se adaptar: testava seus limites, sua força, suas novas habilidades, se mostrou útil nas guerras, dentro de exércitos, sendo uma mulher brilhante. Não importava o quanto tentasse, ela sentia como se estar ativa, guerriando, essa era sua sina. Acusada de bruxaria, quase levada à fogueira, foram mais alguns longos anos para finalmente se juntar ao reino de Tenebris, onde sabia que estaria segura. Um dia havia sido jovem, delicada, inexperiente, religiosa até! Mas conforme os anos foram passando, Celaena fora perdendo muito de si - ou se encontrando, como muitas vezes gostava de pensar. Era a favor da paz. Ao se juntar ao reinado de Conde Drácula, ela jurou fidelidade a ele e ao reino. Com os anos que passavam, foi ganhando sua confiança, pois acreditava que ele fazia o correto. Ela mesma pouco se alimentava de pessoas, costumava optar por uma dieta de animais, mesmo que isso as vezes a fizesse mais fraca: ela arrumava outras formas de se fazer mais forte.
Em algum ponto, Celaena fora a responsável pela segurança de Lisa. A mulher era a favor da boa convivência com os humanos, era a favor de viverem bem. E com o tempo, fora ganhando muita afeição da esposa de Drácula - acreditava que ela despertava o melhor no homem, assim como em todo o reino. Mas tudo morreu quando a humana morreu. Sob um ataque humano, a vampira não foi capaz de proteger a mulher, de forma que após sua morte, se culpou imensamente - era seu dever, sua obrigação. Poderia ter perdido tempo se remoendo e se culpando, mas não houve nem brecha para isso. Não quando a ira do rei dos vampiros se virou aos humanos e ela, como sua fiel escudeira, participou daquilo. Vilarejos queimados. Humanos mortos. Derramamento de sangue por todos os lados. Não era o que ela acreditava, mas era o que devia fazer, certo? Era fiel a ele - e aquilo estava acontecendo por sua culpa. Ela estava fazendo o que era correto, certo? Não tinha mais certeza.
Os questionamentos começaram a ser feitos: não concordava com Drácula - menos ainda com Carmilla - e não conseguia entender qual deveria ser sua posição ali. Não acreditava na separação dos vampiros em duas vertentes e definitivamente não gostava da forma como o rei parecia estar lidando com seu luto. Aquele massacre não era a solução. Podiam ser mais fortes que os humanos, sim, mas isso não fazia deles superiores. Deviam saber conviver em paz, era nisso que acreditava. Mas é claro que tudo mudou quando a maldição chegou ao reino, levando-os para o mundo real. Era estranho estar de volta ali, mas mais estranho era como haviam chegado. Não sabia no que crer, afinal, as versões eram as mais diversas. Carmilla dizia ser culpa de Drácula, enquanto o vampiro dizia o contrário. Claro que sua fidelidade era ao homem, mas estava certa disso? Estava confiante de que era a decisão certa? Não.
𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓟𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷 — they are expected to demonstrate and embody goodness and law. the classic view is that of the knight in shining armor. they combat the forces of evil wherever they are found, and defend the helpless as much as possible.
(㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ) — after the curse
A maldição lhe deu uma história, é claro. Filha de imigrantes alemães que morreram, ambos de leucemia - que ir��nico, seus supostos pais tinham doença no sangue. A sua história diz que ela nunca conheceu nada além de Storybrooke, mas a mulher sabe muito bem que não é bem assim. Sabrina, como é chamada nos tempos atuais, sempre fascinada pela ideia de fazer o certo e o justo, se interessou ainda jovem pelas aulas de auto defesa para mulheres e aos vinte e sete começou a dar as aulas. Aos trinta e seis comprou a academia Ranging Fire, onde é instrutora e proprietária. Poderia estar fazendo algo maior, talvez na polícia ou no corpo de bombeiros, era onde sua história real lhe diria para estar. Mas ser submetida a Pierre seria o cúmulo, então até achou que trabalhar com o que gosta não é tão ruim assim: faz o que acha que deve, como acha que deve.
Sabrina não é das pessoas de mais fácil convivência e muito menos uma das mais sorridentes ou alegres. Na verdade, tem uma fama de ser mau humorada, mas isso vem de uma longa vida. Estava cansada. Não que achasse que sua trajetória não tivesse sido digna ou boa, na verdade, ela acreditava ter feito a diferença em muitos momentos de sua vida. Mas naquele ponto? Mal se lembrava do rosto de seus pais - de seus pais verdadeiros. Mal se lembrava de seu primeiro marido, mal se lembrava dos rostos do passado. Eram anos demais. E a verdade é que Celaena não conhece mais nada que não seja as infinitas lutas pelo que acredita ser o certo. Achava, inclusive, que em Tenebris tivesse achado sua família - as pessoas às quais ela finalmente poderia se apegar pois teria-as para sempre. Mas agora com a dispusta de poder entre Drácula e Carmilla, ela se sente confusa. Qual é o caminho certo a se seguir, afinal?
ATUALIZAÇÃO: atualmente sabrina acabou bebendo sangue involuntariamente e desde então não parou. está em um surto por sangue humano e por isso está mais bem humorada e radiante, mas ao mesmo tempo muito mais impulsiva e intensa.
(㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ) — extra info
nome real: celaena
nome em storybrook: sabrina schneider
idade real: 394 anos
idade aparente: 36 anos
espécie: vampira
altura: 1,73m
label: the paladin
character alignment: neutral good
está acordada? sim
inspirações: andy (the old guard), katniss everdeen (thg), captain america (marvel), harry potter (hp), bree van der camp (dhw), mary stuart (reign)
poderes/habilidades: supervelocidade, superforça, boa luta corporal, boa manipulação de facas/adagas pequenas, boa manipulação de armas de fogo, habilidade empática: consegue identificar e absorver sensações e sentimentos das outras pessoas/criaturas
fraquezas: sol, fogo, péssima manipulação de longas espadas/armas grandes.
headcanons: adora assistir discovery channel e ver curiosidades sobre animais. usa sempre as mesmas roupas (pretas, de couro e coturno). gosta de jogar videogame (principalmente jogos tipo mortal kombat) mas não é boa, ainda está tentando melhorar. é absurdamente boa em xadrez, principalmente por praticar há muito tempo, bem difícil ganhar dela. boa com leitura de linguagem corporal. tem sonhos estranhos e desenha todos eles, apesar de não desenhar bem (faz rabiscos legais). não tem nenhuma tatuagem, mas tem muito vontade de ter. bebe uma taça de vinho todos os dias antes de dormir. se exercita e bebe café muito mais do que provavelmente deveria.
conexões
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Dracula in Storybrooke part 2
For Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 23
Once Upon a Time missing storyline/AU
Killian noticed a man staring at Emma.
He had on leather pants, leather boots, and his shirt was opened clear down to near his naval. Revealing a well toned chest.
“But greatly lacking in chest hair.” Killian thought smugly.
The man who introduced himself as Drake, gazed at Emma with fascination.
“My, my, you are by far the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. The very sun is dim in comparison to your golden hair.”
Killian rolled his eyes. Just who did this git think he was. It irritated him more to see that Emma was actually smiling at the fool.
Neither man knew it, but Emma’s smile was due to her seeing that the two men, who seemed to be trying to one up each other, were very much alike.
“I really must have a type.” She thought to herself.
Both men had dark hair, deep blue eyes, and accents.
Drake wore a shirt with most of the buttons undone, reminding Emma of Killian’s wardrobe before he started wearing modern clothes.
She sometimes wished Killian would go back to wearing those clothes, at least on some days. She had always loved how sexy and dangerous he looked.
Yet Killian was staring daggers at the man, as if he considered him a rival.
Killian didn’t like the pure hunger he saw in Drake’s eyes as he stared at Emma. It was too possessive.
“It’s strange how in this world, a woman can cover her whole body, and still her lovely form is revealed.” Drake’s eyes moved over Emma. “I look forward to discovering what other wonders this place has in store.”
“He’s a smooth one.” Granny commented. “My mother always said, “Beware of a silver tongue. It tends to lay next to the sharpest tooth.”
“He was awfully flirty with Emma.” Snow remarked in puzzlement. “She was pressed against Killian nearly the entire time. Obviously her heart belongs to him. But that didn’t stop Drake from showing his interest.”
“I think we need to keep a close eye on that guy.” Charming said with a scowl. Father’s instinct warned that Drake would bring nothing but trouble in his daughter’s life.
Just as the Sun had slipped under the horizon, one figure walked up to another in the shadows of the alleyway near Granny’s Diner.
"I would stay away from Emma Swan, if I were you. Captain Jones won't allow anyone to take her away from him."
"Captain Jones is a mortal. An ordinary simple man. What is he compared to one such as myself?"
“Captain Killian Jones is far from being a simple man. The pirate captain has faced God's, demons, and monsters and survived. You may be powerful, but you are far from the worst thing Captain Hook has faced.
There is also Emma Swan. She is not going to be easily seduced away from the man she went to the underworld for. Especially not by a man spouting fancy words and performing magic tricks that she could beat. One would wonder what it is you think you can offer her? From what I heard, your grand castle is in ruin."
“There are other castles. From what I understand, there are two castles long since abandoned in another land. The former residents now live in this world. In this town. If I understand correctly, Emma Swan would inherit both, should something happen to those former owners.”
“Even you can not believe that you could charm a lady into accepting you after killing her entire family.”
“The blood lust made my other brides accept the same. I do not think Emma Swan will be any different.”
“I think you will find that Emma Swan will be very different. But you have a tendency to be far too confident in your own prowess to see reason. I still want to caution you. I feel I owe you something, since you once offered me immortality. Would have given it to me, if you hadn’t been outwitted.
That bloodlust only works if you're in power. Mina was willing to forgive you in regard to her dearest friend Lucy when you blinded her with your seduction. But once Jonathan Harker and Dr. Van Helsing sealed you in that tomb, she reverted back to her old self. And she hated you for what you did.”
“I was careless. I didn’t anticipate Harker’s strength of spirit. Or his devotion to Mina. I shall use more patience. And will pay closer attention to the players. I underestimated my opponents before. I will not again.”
The Count from Transylvania smiled. “Despite your insistent loyalty to the man who stands between me and the woman who holds my salvation, it is good to see you again, Renfield.”
“It’s good to see you again, Vlad. But it’s Smee, now. Renfield got the reputation of a lunatic. No one would take him seriously. I had to change my name and do business in another port, to escape the shadow of your story.”
“Perhaps the ending to this story will be more to each of our likeings”
Smee didn’t say it, but he was certain this story’s end would be the same as the previous one.
"Emma, I think Count Drake is dangerous." Killian spoke in earnest, hoping to get her to understand that she should stay away from the man.
"I know he is. I think he's a vampire." She said it so matter of factly, it made Killian’s jaw drop.
"Oh, come on. Count Drake. Count Dracula. It was pretty obvious. Plus, he stayed away from the windows? Out of direct sunlight?"
Killian wanted to kick himself. His jealousy had blinded him to the real threat.
Emma wrapped her arms around Killian's neck. "You really need to stop being jealous of every guy who looks like he might be my type. I have my perfect man, the man I love, right here. I would never do anything to mess that up."
"I do trust you, love. It's me I don't trust. I can never be rid of the thought that I don’t deserve you. That you could have someone better."
Emma opened her mouth to argue with him,
"I know what you're going to say, love. But knowing that you love me and think I'm a hero is far different than actually believing it myself."
Emma knew what Killian was saying. But she still wished she could find some way of convincing him how important he was to her.
He always knew what to say to help her understand how special she was to him. She wished she had his gift with words, so she could return the favor.
An idea on how to remind him that he was one of the most important people in her life came to her.
She might have been bad with words. But she was really good with her actions.
Drake snarled in frustration. He wanted to burst in through the window and tear the lovers apart. He vowed that he would find a way to kill Killian Jones, and take Emma Swan for himself.
Killian’s instincts warned him that the woman he loved was in danger. He couldn’t shake the feeling that all of these attacks were only a precursor to a much bigger problem.
He wanted to find out more about the beings that were called vampires. He believed that knowing your enemy was the best way in the path to defeating him.
And while he did not think that Whale was lying to the group, Killian was certain that the doctor did not actually know as much as he thought he did.
So Killian went to the one person who had traveled the many realms and has encountered various beings of power.
William Smee.
Killian suspected his former first mate knew more about what was going on than he had admitted.
Smee was not without his resources, he knew how to protect himself from the monsters that constantly invaded Storybrooke.
@cssns
#once upon a time#captain swan#emma swan#killian jones#emma x killian#emma x hook#cssns23#dracula in storybrooke#grimmswanfic
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SE VOCÊ PRECISAR DO NOSSO NOVO HABITANTE, TALVEZ ELE ESTEJA EM SEU CAIXÃO… Ele costumava se chamar GODRIC, do conto DRACULA, e antes da névoa da maldição arrastá-lo até Storybrooke, ele estava no REINO DE TENEBRIS, lá na FLORESTA ENCANTADA. Aqui na cidade você talvez o encontre se procurar por um tal de VIKTOR O’RIAIN BURKE que é POLICIAL.
biografia // casa de viktor // conexões requeridas (storybrooke e contos de fada) // tag inspo // plot inspos // inspos wanted
~ 𝕲𝖔𝖉𝖗𝖎𝖈, ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˡᵉⁿᵗˡᵉˢˢ
Da backstorie.
Nome: Godric
Idade: 409 anos
Conto: Drácula
Aliado: Carmilla
Poderes aguçados: persuasão, velocidade, super força, capaz de ‘drenar’ a energia das pessoas e confundir seus sentimentos.
Pontos fortes: estrategista, ótimo combatente, habilidades com armas de fogo - antigas em seu principal.
Pontos fracos: fogo, combates que não sejam corpo-a-corpo (como espadas, por exemplo) e depressão — drenar o sentimento e energia das pessoas demanda um controle mental que por muitas vezes ele não consegue manter.
Um breve resumo de sua vida passada.
trigger alert!: morte, dependência emocional, traição, contrabando humano, abusos com criança (não sexuais), menção a assassinatos, sangue.
Nascido no país em que hoje é conhecido como Rússia, Godric nunca soube ser uma criança e teve sua juventude tomada logo em seus primeiros anos de vida, quando seus pais o venderam para o que hoje chamariam de ‘instituição’;
Foi comprado para tornar-se uma arma humana, uma experiência de guerra. Moldado desde sua infância, atordoado, machucado e tendo seus sentidos humanos aguçados de formas inenarráveis — tudo isso para tornar-se um super soldado.
No local haviam também outras crianças com a mesma finalidade, mas poucas aguentaram a crueldade humana e conseguiram lidar com a frieza da situação. Não eram cobaias da ciência, mas sim do exército. Uma parte sórdida do exército que acreditava que colocar adolescente nas frentes de batalhas fariam enfraquecer o inimigo, e pior: adolescentes sanguinários, psicopatas e cruéis, capazes de matar sem remorso.
Com 16 anos foi posto para lutar em guerras e com 20 já era extremamente mortal, aos seus 25 tornou-se líder das frentes de batalha e aos 31 anos, veio a migração de sua vida humana para o desconhecido.
Em uma de suas expedições em guerra, o grupo de soldados deparou-se com um pequeno núcleo de pessoas, em menor número, mas prontos para a luta, Godric não pensou duas vezes em contra-atacar com a vitória já em mãos, decepcionou-se quando seus aliados morriam um a um por aberrações da natureza que ele nem se quer sabia existir. Quando chegou sua vez, lutou bravamente por sua vida, tão feroz quanto àqueles que o atacavam, acabou tendo seu feito reconhecido por que parecia ser líder do grupo - Merlye, uma vampira estonteante que poupou Godric da vida e o transformou em um dos seus.
Se antes era um homem perigoso, agora tornou-se um vampiro sanguinário e quase sem escrúpulos, encantando por sua força, velocidade e suas habilidades interpessoais — conseguia persuadir até o mais difícil oponente — e imortalidade, ele era implacável.
Merlye tinha planos não de dominância dos humanos ou vampiros, mas onde passava deixava rastros de morte e, além disso levava consigo os homens e mulheres mais habilidosos que conseguia encontrar; e Godric à seguia cegamente sem questionar, havia tomado gosto pela matança desenfreada e sensação de poder. Principalmente, pela sensação de poder.
Como braço direito de Merlye, destacando-se por sua mente estratégica e perigosa, assassinaram alguns dos mais poderosos de sua espécie, e não demorou muito tempo até perceber que a vampira formara um motim onde Godric era encarregado de se livrar daqueles que já não serviam mais, que eram fracos ou questionavam a autoridade da mulher — que se tornou um tipo de esposa ao longo dos 200 anos.
Com o tempo, o gosto pelo sangue e a massacres sem sentido acabaram causando em Godric sensações adversas; ele tinha o dom de drenar a energia de todos àqueles que tivesse contato e junto disso bagunçar seus sentimentos. Sentia a dor, a agonia, o medo, o cansaço e tudo que um humano ou ser místico poderia oferecer, e sua mente foi enfraquecendo pouco a pouco, morte por morte, até chegar no ponto em que começou a questionar Merlye.
Mais inteligente do que o próprio marido, Merlye sabia quando as coisas estavam erradas e sentia seu poder sendo ameaçado. Sabendo que não conseguiria deter Godric caso ele se voltasse contra ela, decidiu arquitetar um plano tão sórdido quanto seus atos: atraiu-o para um mundo novo, um mundo que ele nunca se quer sonhará em existir, onde fadas, sereias, piratas e todos os seres místicos eram reais e por fim levou-o ao reino de Tenebris.
Merlye sabia que em Tenebris os vampiros e humanos conviviam em harmonia e respeitava o reinado de Drácula, mas passou para Godric a ideia tola de que tentariam tomar dele o poder. Godric seguiu sua esposa até o vilarejo do reino, mas acabou caindo em uma embocada e quase foi morto pelas mãos de um Van Helsing, salvo por pouco.
Nunca enquanto imortal ele chegou naquela experiência de quase destruição, e tomado pela ira e medo, acabou indo atrás de Merlye em todos os reinos e travando uma batalha contra a mulher, que finalizou com a morte dela por suas próprias mãos.
Sem rumo, voltou para Tenebris onde acabou sendo acolhido pelos vampiros locais e tornou-se um dos aliados e seguidores de Drácula, com a intenção de apagar seu passado sombrio e tornar-se um ser melhor.
Durante anos tentou e conseguiu conviver como seus aliados: em paz com os humanos. Tentava a todo custo ser bom e gostava da ideia de não ser um monstro completo e sanguinário, ele realmente queria conhecer sua melhor versão, a versão humana que nunca lhe foi proporcionado. Entretanto, todo seu discurso caiu por terra quando conheceu Carmilla e seus ideais, tentado pelos fantasmas do seu passado.
No início (por anos) da ‘rebelião’ ele não abandonou o Conde e procurou por diversos motivos para manter-se do lado “bom”, desde vínculos fortes com outros vampiros até a ilusão de que ali era o seu lugar. Mas demorou pouco tempo para ele enfrentar a dualidade dentro de si, e flertando com as ideias bem postas e lábia de Carmilla, Godric acabou traindo os seus e passando para o outro lado.
Sente pesar por àqueles que abandonou, mas em sua mente treinada desde a infância humana, aquele era o lugar certo. Achava errado viveram em paz com os humanos quando eles tinham mentes tão monstruosas e perversas, não eram como iguais e a menção de se deitar para um inferior afetava veemente o seu ego.
~ 𝖁𝖎𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖗 𝕭𝖚𝖗𝖐𝖊, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙥
Em storybooke.
Nome: Viktor O’riain Burke
Idade: 31 anos
Ocupação: policial
Está acordado? Sim.
Habilidades: tático especialista, mestre em artes marciais, exímio atirador de elite, demonstra-se confiável ao extremo.
Personalidade duo: Um. Calmo, amigável e solícito, preocupado com o bem-estar dos moradores e sempre disposto a resolver até os menores dos problemas. É formado em psicologia e favorável para compreender emoções alheias, além de ser um cavalheiro. É um homem engraçado e de sabe dar boas risadas, conhece os lugares mais aconchegantes, mantêm a elegância sem parecer inacessível. Astuto e determinado. Dois. Canalha, pilantra, corrupto e cínico. Quase um sádico para àqueles que conhecem a sua real face, um homem de poucos amigos e muitos negócios, capaz de utilizar os meios mais brutos para chegar onde quer. Agressivo, ambicioso, desinibido e enganador.
Pontos fracos: os seus inimigos e ex-aliados, a dependência de uma pessoa “superior” e o sentimento de culpa por ser quem é e querer ser uma pessoa melhor. Sentimentos alheios e decepções o afetam.
Um breve resumo de sua vida atual (breve mesmo)
Não sabia das entrelinhas dos planos de Carmilla, por isso quando a maldição o alcançou o medo voltou a se instalar no seu coração frio e morto, motivo por ficar extremamente bravo com a mulher e àqueles que sabiam de suas intenções.
A maldição também deu-lhe uma história triste, mas não tanto quanto àquela que viveu, agora era um policial bem-apessoado e conhecido na cidade, praticante de bons atos aos olhos da população e de seus colegas, mas por trás das cortinas… Um homem perigoso, com informações perigosas e sem medo de usar seu status para conseguir o que quer. Não se importa com a história de ter tido sua mãe assassinada ainda que sua parte humana sinta uma fisgada ao lembrar, e tampouco liga para o fato de ter tornado-se policial apenas para encontrar os culpados; estava acordado e sabia que aquela não era a verdade, mas usava de sua boa lábia e imagem de bom samaritano para conquistar os mais tolos, e chegar através do sentimento nos mais poderosos. Todos tem um ponto fraco, no final das contas.
Enquanto banca o policial pelas ruas de Storybrooke, dentro de quatro paredes ele é traíra, corrupto e favorece àqueles que tem algo a oferecer. Tem boas relações com a prefeitura e com a maioria dos ‘vilões’, sempre disposto a fazer favores para receber outros em troca.
Como antes da maldição ainda enfrentava a dualidade de não saber o que era certo, de questionar Carmilla mas não querer seguir as diretrizes de Drácula (que pareciam as corretas), de ter em seu passado atos sombrios e querer mudar seu presente e futuro, acabou trazendo esses mesmos traços para Storybrooke: faz o que faz, mas sente-se culpado por isso. Gostaria de não ser uma pessoa ruim e vive em uma guerra interior onde odeia ser quem é, mas não consegue ser outra pessoa.
~ The token.
É assombrado pelo medalhão de Merlye, que arrancou de seu pescoço com sua cabeça para se lembra de nunca ser enganado ou traído novamente. A lenda é que o medalhão leva consigo as almas daqueles que foram mortos durante o pós-mortem da vampirada, que sugava a vitalidade de cada humano que matasse. Grodric acreditava veemente nisso e acabou guardando para si o objeto, como uma forma de protesto e poder.
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Welcome to CSSNS24 @grimmswan!
Your Tumblr and any other applicable names
grimmswan on Tumblr, AO3, and fanfiction.net
How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom?
Since the beginning. Reading fanfics since 2013, writing fanfics since 2018.
When did you start shipping Captain Swan?
Since Hook wrapped that scarf around Emma’s hand when Tallahassee first aired.
What drew you to this event?
I love all things supernatural and enjoy writing about it.
What inspired your topic?
Prompts from Tumblr
If you would like to share a snippet/sneak peek/summary of your fic or artwork, please use the space below.
I'm going to complete my works, Dracula in Storybrooke and Love Bites (But So Do I) Lots of danger, suspense, and carnage. But a guaranteed happily ever after for our favorite couple.
What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event?
All of the amazing art and stories.
Your stories are spectacular, Rachel and we're looking forward to more of both of them!
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SE VOCÊ PRECISAR DO NOSSO NOVO HABITANTE, TALVEZ ELE ESTEJA EM SEU CAIXÃO… Ele costumava se chamar BENEDICT GRIMSHAW, do conto DRACULA, e antes da névoa da maldição arrastá-lo até Storybrooke, ele estava no REINO DE TENEBRIS, lá na FLORESTA ENCANTADA. Aqui na cidade você talvez o encontre se procurar por um tal de BENJAMIN GELLER, que tem 24 ANOS e é PERSONAL TRAINER E DANÇARINO NA ROSA DO DESERTO.
* PINTEREST /
O PERSONAGEM ESTÁ ACORDADO?
Não, mas tem pesadelos perturbadores e constantes que são flashbacks da sua vida na Floresta Encantada.
FLORESTA ENCANTADA
Benedict era o irmão mais velho dentre os seis filhos do casal Grimshaw. Vivia com sua família numa pequena e humilde fazenda, um pouco mais afastada dos vilarejos de Red Rose, e não tinha muitas ambições, exceto pela vontade de servir ao trono. Contudo, mesmo após alcançar idade o suficiente para talvez se alistar na guarda-real ele sabia da necessidade de ajudar seus pais a cuidar dos seus irmãos mais novos, e por esse motivo continuou trabalhando na fazenda da família por muito mais tempo do que realmente gostaria. Mas, ainda que não estivesse exercendo a profissão que almejava, Ben era feliz.
No entanto, ele só percebeu o quão feliz era sua vida quando tudo ruiu. Com a aproximação do inverno, após ser obrigado a ir ao centro do seu reino para que pudesse vender as compotas feitas por sua mãe e trazer mais suprimentos para casa, ele retornou à fazenda dos Grimshaw se deparando com uma imagem que jamais esqueceria. Uma criatura com presas e indescritivelmente bela estava parada perto dos corpos ensanguentados e sem vida dos seus familiares.
Ben soltou um grito de aflição e pavor, enquanto via a criatura abrir um sorriso lascivo antes de fugir. O desespero que lhe tomou naquele momento foi gigante, quase tão grande quanto a raiva que o consumia e crescia juntamente com a vontade de se vingar de quem fez aquilo, tais sentimentos aumentando toda vez que se lembrava daquele sorriso. Desolado, foi obrigado a vender tudo o que lhe restara de valor para que pudesse sair em busca de alcançar seu novo propósito.
Ele já não queria mais servir à guarda-real, queria proteger aqueles que realmente precisavam de proteção e não tinham; famílias pobres e indefesas, que não possuíam qualquer segurança, que tinham suas terras e casas invadidas pelas criaturas malignas e nada podiam fazer sobre isso além de ver sua vida e dos seus familiares se esvair. Queria aprender tudo sobre aquelas criaturas: como identificá-las, combatê-las e matá-las. Precisava de um mentor.
Sabia que em algum lugar da Floresta Encantada encontraria pessoas que serviriam ao mesmo propósito, ou pelo menos a um propósito similar. Já havia ouvido falar de caçadores de criaturas da noite antes, só nunca pensou que algum dia iria querer se tornar um. Mas as coisas poderiam ser muito mais difíceis do que parecia, e Benedict, apesar de ter dedicado muitos dias da sua vida em busca de um professor ou de qualquer pessoa que pudesse ajudá-lo, chegou muito perto de desistir daquela ideia e simplesmente voltar para viver uma vida infeliz e solitária em Red Rose.
Por sorte acabou sendo encontrado por Abraham Van Helsing num momento muito oportuno, quase como se ele fosse seu próprio anjo-da-guarda surgindo para resgatá-lo. Graças ao mais velho se aliou à igreja que lutava contra monstros, tornando-se uma espécie de pupilo e se considerando até mesmo um fiel escudeiro, desde que decidira que seguiria Abraham e lutaria ao seu lado por qualquer reino que ele decidisse ir. Dessa forma o seguiu até Tenebris e foi arrastado pela névoa para Storybrooke pouco tempo depois.
STORYBROOKE
Benjamin vem de uma família judaica de origem britânica de seis filhos, dos quais ele é o único homem. Apesar de grande, sua família nunca foi muito unida, ou pelo menos deixou de ser à medida que os filhos iam atingindo a maioridade e conquistando sua independência ao sair de casa a fim de não serem mais obrigados a seguir as regras, em sua maioria ortodoxas, impostas por seus pais.
Por ser o único homem, por muito tempo ele acreditou veementemente em suas obrigações como protetor das irmãs e da família em geral, isso devido ao fato de seu pai ter lhe imposto tantas obrigações, restrições, e tantos ensinamentos sobre seu futuro como o homem da família. Mas foi exatamente essa sobrecarga e expectativa gerada em cima de si que acabou o tornando totalmente oposto do que se era esperado.
Apesar de ser esperado que ele fosse um rapaz estudioso, o mesmo sempre teve dificuldades de aprendizado, o que contribuiu para que não gostasse de estudar. Ao invés disso ele se concentrava no que conseguia ser bom: esportes e artes marciais. Acabou ficando atrasado no colégio e se formando mais tarde do que deveria, também acabou não ingressando numa universidade a fim de continuar os estudos, afinal ele não se considerava sequer minimamente bom ou inteligente pra isso.
Ainda na adolescência ele começou a sair da linha, foi quando começou a ser castigado pelos pais por não atender às suas expectativas e ter baixo desempenho acadêmico. Quando não ingressou na universidade foi a gota d’água para ser expulso de casa, começando assim a trilhar sua vida independente e sem precisar fingir ser quem não era. Benjamin então buscou trabalhos que não exigissem muito desempenho intelectual, querendo sempre o que lhe parecesse mais fácil e acessível, por mais que não pagasse tão bem. Sendo assim, já trabalhou como balconista, garçom, barman, zelador, ajudante de cozinha dentre outros, mas no final acabou optando pelo trabalho que parecia ainda mais fácil e divertido: dançarino de boate.
Sempre havia sido um rapaz charmoso e achava que combinava bem consigo dançar e conseguir arrancar dinheiro de madames ricas… ou até maridos que estavam dentro do armário. O convite para se tornar dançarino veio de uma amiga, e ele gostou daquilo, pois apesar de não pagar tão bem as gorjetas eram muito maiores do que as que já ganhou como garçom. Contudo, na tentativa de aumentar sua renda, ele acabou conseguindo também um emprego de personal trainer, desde que treinos e atividades físicas sempre haviam sido um dos seus pontos fortes.
INSPIRAÇÕES
Tanjiro Kamado (Demon Slayer), Shauna Vayne (League of Legends), Joey Tribbiani (Friends)
#╰ ⠀ › ⠀ ‘ 𝘽𝙀𝙉𝙅𝘼𝙈𝙄𝙉 ’ ⠀ 🏹 ⠀ ❪ ⠀ threads ⠀ ❫ ⠀ .#╰ ⠀ › ⠀ ‘ 𝘽𝙀𝙉𝙅𝘼𝙈𝙄𝙉 ’ ⠀ 🏹 ⠀ ❪ ⠀ files ⠀ ❫ ⠀ .#╰ ⠀ › ⠀ ‘ 𝘽𝙀𝙉𝙅𝘼𝙈𝙄𝙉 ’ ⠀ 🏹 ⠀ ❪ ⠀ visage ⠀ ❫ ⠀ .#╰ ⠀ › ⠀ ‘ 𝘽𝙀𝙉𝙅𝘼𝙈𝙄𝙉 ’ ⠀ 🏹 ⠀ ❪ ⠀ musing ⠀ ❫ ⠀ .
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SE VOCÊ PRECISAR DO NOSSO NOVO HABITANTE, TALVEZ ELE ESTEJA EM SEU CAIXÃO… Ele costumava se chamar LORCAN VOGELMANN, do conto DRACULA, e antes da névoa da maldição arrastá-lo até Storybrooke, ele estava no REINO DE TENEBRIS, lá na FLORESTA ENCANTADA. Aqui na cidade você talvez o encontre se procurar por um tal de BASILE DI FIORE que é PROPRIETÁRIO DA FIORE MÓVEIS E CONSTRUTORA e CHEFE DE GABINETE DO PREFEITO..
O PERSONAGEM ESTÁ ACORDADO? Sim
Antes da Maldição:
Deixou sua vida na nobreza, para abraçar sua não vida na elite vampiríca. Embora Lorcan fosse melhor que seus irmãos, se dedicasse mais nos estudos, na esgrima, e nas tarefas da corte, ele nunca passaria do filho mais novo, do irmão do herdeiro que mesmo sem merecer o trono o teria pelo direito de sangue.
A Lorcan coube tornar-se a mãe do rei, seu conselheiro, seus outros irmãos se casaram com princesas e ladies de outros reinos, como mais velhos tinham o direito de se casar direito. Para Lorcan sobrou a função de babá real, enquanto seu irmão bebia, caçava e dormia com prostitutas, Lorcan matinha o reino de pé e funcionando, negociando tratados, garantindo comida e segurança as pessoas do reino para que no fim do dia seu irmão tivesse o júbilo da glória.
Apenas os funcionários do velho castelo sabiam da verdade, pelo menos era o que ele achava, mas desde que recebeu aquela carta, o papiro envelhecido com um selo negro com a imagem de um Cetro e uma Espada entrecruzadas, uma carta elogiando o trabalho que ele vinha desempenhando e que os O Clã dos Reis estava de olho neles.
Por um lado ele ficou assustado de estar sendo vigiado e mandou que o meistre do reino pesquisasse sobre o Clã dos Reis. Mas por outro lado, no fundo havia certo orgulho em saber que seu trabalho havia sido reconhecido por alguém.
Outras cartas chegaram depois daquela, e o meistre não conseguiu nenhuma informação, a não ser um menção sobre eles no reino de Tenebris, foi quando Lorcan descobriu que estava lidando com vampiros, aquilo o tirou o sono por algumas noites.
Mas quando a última carta chegou, um convite formal. Lorcan tomou uma decisão a tomar, continuar ajudando seu irmão em seu reinado ou se aventurar indo atrás de sua própria história.
Lorcan foi abraçado por um grupo de vampiros chamados de Ventrue, conhecidos por liderarem a região da Bavária próximo a Estíria. Vampiros muitas vezes referidos pelos outros como Vampiros de Sangue Azul. Junto de seu clã aprimorou suas habilidades de política, diplomacia, espionagem, manipulação e tudo que era necessário para levar um reino ao seu ápice ou à sua queda.
Anos mais tarde os conflitos em Tenebris levaram a cisão do clã, Lorcan aprendeu a ver o mundo como um grande jogo de poder, aqueles que o tinham podiam fazer o que quisesse e subjugar os mais fracos, esse era o jogo, e Lorcan sempre preferiu ser um caçador a uma presa. Por isso quando conheceu Carmilla logo também viu seu desejo, sua ambição, sua sede de sangue e resolveu se unir a ela, auxiliando-a a retomar a Estíria.
O antigo castelo Ventrue e suas terras em posse de Lorcan foram anexados à Estíria, tudo parecia bem, Nikolai tinha sua própria parte naquele império, também estava construindo seu próprio legado, por mais que estivesse ameaçado pelo novo conquistador de Tenebris, Drácula, sabia que a Carmilla faria o necessário para manter tudo o que tinham construído. Bem, embora a princípio a vampira não houvesse conseguido deter o conquistador, ela tinha uma carta na manga para garantir sua soberania, mesmo que isso os levasse para outro reino.
Em Storybrooke:
Assumir a nova vida, não foi uma grande dificuldade, isso porque conseguira uma boa posição no novo mundo, dinheiro não lhe faltava sendo número de inúmeras propriedade de Storybrooke, angariava muito dinheiro com aluguéis a justificativa é que sua família houvera sido uma das fundadoras da cidade e por isso era dono de muitas terras ali. Agora era conhecido como Basile Di Fiore, pela sua ascendência as más línguas da cidade murmuram sobre ele ter envolvimento com a máfia italiana e também que ele faz serviços de agiotagem mas não se tem nenhuma confirmação disso. Na cidade, o sr. Di Fiore é bastante respeitado na cidade por aqueles que o conhecem, já que diferente de alguns, ele costuma a evitar os holofotes embora vez ou outra apareça fazendo doações e participando de eventos beneficentes a pedido de Carmilla.
Também a pedido de sua aliada, graças a sua influência na cidade, Basile conseguiu se tornar Chefe de Gabinete da prefeitura, além de ajudá-la no controle da cidade, atua com arriscado trabalho de ter os olhos sobre Pierre e suas ações. Não pode dizer que não acha divertido, embora nem sempre demonstre isso, Basile está cumprindo o seu papel como jogador onde o único final aceitável é a sua vitória e a de seus aliados.
Seu personagem é dono/funcionário de algum estabelecimento que não está na lista de lugares?
Fiore Construtora e Imóveis, uma imobiliária e construtora na cidade responsável pela maior parte das propriedades de storybrooke, desde kitnets a mansões, seja para compra ou aluguel, residencial ou comercial, não importa sua necessidade a Fiore atende.
Aceita aplicação para corretores de imóveis, arquitetos e engenheiros.
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Sabe, eu não deveria estar falando com estranhos, mas sinto que já te conheço! Foi você o sonho bonito que eu sonhei, certo? Você costumava ser conhecida como JULIA LAFOREZE, do conto DRACULA antes da maldição atingir o seu mundo FLORESTA ENCANTADA e o seu reino TENEBRIS. Agora, em Storybrooke, você é conhecida como ALINA AVERYVIK HAWTHORNE, uma MEDICA FITOTERAPEUTA de 27 ANOS de idade. Você me lembra um pouco NINA DOBREV, mas deve ser só a névoa da maldição me confundindo...
nome: alina averyvik hawthorne.
idade: vinte e sete anos.
data de nascimento: 06 de novembro de 1994.
sexualidade: heterossexual
ocupação: medica fitoterapeuta
conto: drácula (julia laforeze)
moral alignment: chaotic good.
inspirações: julia laforeze (castlevania), violet baudelaire (a series of unfortunate events), elizabeth bennet (pride and prejudice), ártemis e mais...
acordada? - Não, embora tenha alguns sonhos estranhos e perturbadores.
antes da maldição:
julia é uma bruxa comerciante que nasceu com o desejo, ou o fardo, de ajudar e curar as pessoas a qualquer custo, até mesmo quando ninguém a solicitava qualquer tipo de ajuda. ela não podia evitar, era parte da sua natureza, assim como também era das suas características ser sensível a dor alheia, ainda que lhe custasse muito, por vezes transferia parte da dor a ela. afinal, curar era assim, uma inestimável transferência da dor entre dois corpos, mas bem, isso valia a pena quando funcionava.
no entanto, antes de se dar conta de seu dom era apenas a comerciante, que vendia remédios herbalisticos e phitoterapia aos que precisavam de um xarope para a garganta ou de uma compressa para a ferida. com o passar do tempo o sucesso de seus remédios foI tanto que Julia começou a ser notada por todos os aldeões, que chegavam a chama-la para cuidar dos enfermos mais graves. infelizmente, quem não ficou nada feliz com os avanços de suas habilidades foi seu irmão, Isaac, que estava a ponto de entrar em colapso, mas Julia ainda sentia que precisava fazer de tudo para ajuda-lo, sendo capaz até de arriscar a própria vida se preciso.
depois do caos sucedido entre drácula e seu irmão, ela se tornou rival do drácula.
depois da maldição:
alina se lembra muito pouco sobre a sua infância, em partes pelo acidente que sofreu, em partes pelo trauma, mas começaremos pelo começo: a historia de que se lembra é de que nascera em storybrooke, em uma família feliz como as do comercial de margarina, não tinham uma fortuna mas possuíam dinheiro suficiente para viajar de tempos em tempos para os mais inusitados destinos. foi em uma dessas viagens em que tudo se apagou, e dos momentos ela só se lembra de poucos flashes. havia neve cobrindo a estrada, neve no topo das arvores, neve no para-brisas. uma imensidão branca e gélida que deixava tudo meio embaçado e confuso, foi então que viu um carro cruzar o caminho, e instantes depois ouviu o impacto da lataria se amassando, do vidro se quebrando, e então, nada mais. apenas silencio.
alina permaneceu em coma por quase um ano depois do acidente, em um estado que diziam ser irreversível, e quando todos haviam desistido, quando toda a esperança estava perdida, ela acordou. não mais como antes, algo havia mudado, parte dela havia se apagado para sempre. mas do trágico acidente não houveram vitimas fatais, bem, isso era o que os médicos diziam. não havia nada sobre a sua falecida memoria? ninguém prestaria as condolências? amnesia traumática, eles afirmaram, mas fato é que alina não tem mais memoria alguma sobre sua vida de antes da tragédia. o seu despertar pensavam ser um milagre, e assim ela ficou conhecida durante um tempo, o pequeno milagre, era como a chamavam, mas então por que ela não se sentia assim? o seu interior parecia apenas… vazio.
TRIVIA:
alina não se lembra de nada da sua vida antes do acidente, o que significa que ela também não se lembra de ninguém além da sua família.
é filha de um antigo delegado da cidade, e seu sobrenome é muito respeitado por isso.
ela e seu irmão sempre tiveram uma relação muito competitiva, mas ela tenta deixar isso de lado pelo carinho que sente por ele.
ama livros e tá sempre com um nas mãos.
se encontrou na sua especialidade, fitoterapia, que consiste no estudo das plantas medicinais e suas aplicações na cura de doenças.
embora não consiga se lembrar de nada sobre o seu passado, ela tem uma boa memoria para os momentos no presente, e guarda informações facilmente.
atualmente ela trabalha como medica fitoterapeuta no hospital de storybrooke, mas entre as suas ambições esta o desejo de abrir uma lojinha de ervas e produtos naturais que auxiliam no seu trabalho. (hippie????
#passando pra apresentar a alina e oferecer plotinhos com essa gata#mais tarde eu tento passar no chat de vcs#mas quem quiser algum plotinho pode me chamar!!#espero que gostem dela <3
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CHARACTER INFORMATION:
**CHARACTER NAME:** Arthur Pendragon
**CHARACTER FACECLAIM:** Bradley James
**CHARACTER AGE/DOB (if from enchanted forest, general age okay):** August 7th, he’s probably like idk 28?
**CHARACTER PRONOUNS/GENDER IDENTITY/SEXUALITY ETC:** he/him, cismale, repressed bisexual, probably polyamorous with his friends but doesn’t know how to feel or things
**CHARACTER FANDOM:** Merlin
**OC OR CANON:** Canon
**WHICH LAND ARE THEY FROM (examples: earth, enchanted forest, wonderland, monsterland [frankenstein, dracula, vamps etc], neverland):** Enchanted forest but To be honest Camelot feels like it’s own thing???
**CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY:**
Born to Uther Pendragon, the King of Camelot, Arthur grows up in a world where magic is outlawed and considered dangerous. He grows up in the royal court, surrounded by nobles and knights. As a child, he receives rigorous training in combat and learns the principles of chivalry, preparing him for his future role as king.
His real journey begins when he meets Merlin, a young sorcerer who becomes his loyal friend and confidant. Initially, Arthur sees Merlin as his moronic servant, often teasing and testing him. However, as they face challenges together and Merlin repeatedly saves Arthur’s life using his magic, (without him knowing) Arthur starts to value and rely on his friend’s wisdom and guidance. Their bond strengthens over time, developing into a deep friendship built on trust and mutual support.
As he matures, Arthur proves himself to be a skilled warrior, known for his bravery and unwavering loyalty to his people. Despite his initial prejudice against magic, Arthur gradually begins to question the laws set by his father, realizing that not all magic is evil. This transformation is further influenced by Merlin, who uses his powers to protect Arthur and Camelot discreetly.
He is driven by a desire to bring justice and unity to Camelot, Arthur aspires to be a fair and just king. He strives to create a world where magic is accepted and its practitioners are treated with respect. Through his actions, Arthur becomes a symbol of hope for the people, who see him as a beacon of light in a realm plagued by darkness and prejudice.
His journey ultimately leads to him facing off against a powerful sources named Morgana, someone he once considered to be family. In his final battle with her, he obtains a fatal wound that appears will end his life. He is taken to the mystical isle of Avalon, where Merlin tries to do everything in his power to restore him. However, a the curse of storybrook reaches the island where Arthur is alone, transporting him into a small town.
In the town, Arthur has no memory of who he was before. Instead believes himself to be a man named, Archie, a woodworker who inherited his dads failing furniture business and is trying to prevent the company from failing. It is a struggle, and Archer works hard everyday barely making the ends meet. When the curse is lifted, he regains his memories and recalls to the time he almost died.
Now Arthur is in search to obtain some form of contact with Merlin, knowing the wizard would be able to get them back to the enchanted forest and end this curse once and for all.
OOC INFORMATION:
MUN NAME/ALIAS: Az
MUN AGE: 27
MUN PRONOUNS: he/himbo
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SE VOCÊ PRECISAR DA NOSSA NOVA HABITANTE, TALVEZ ELA ESTEJA EM SEU CAIXÃO… Ela costumava se chamar EESHA, do conto DRACULA, e antes da névoa da maldição arrastá-la até Storybrooke, ela estava no REINO DE TENEBRIS, lá na FLORESTA ENCANTADA. Aqui na cidade você talvez a encontre se procurar por uma tal de SATYAVATI SULTANA que é PROPRIETÁRIA DA ÓPERA DE STORYBROOKE.
ANTES DE STORYBROOKE
Dizem que você só descobre quem é de verdade quando seu último sopro de vida está na garganta.
Eesha não tinha ideia de como tinha parado ali além dos fragmentos escassos da viagem com o capuz da cabeça. Os braços amarrados atrás das costas, cordas pesadas ferindo os pulsos e sufocando a garganta. Metade do caminho foi feito ao arraste, debatendo-se tal qual animal pronto para a morte inevitável. Os gritos preenchendo a noite preenchida com o crepitar ensurdecedor do fogo e morte. Tanta morte. Cheiro de plantação virando cinzas, o solo úmido de sangue de incontáveis vidas sem significado. Em algum momento a perna soltou das mãos inimigas e encontraram um joelho, o pano na cabeça expondo o rosto enquanto os joelhos tentavam equilibrar o corpo sem o auxílio das mãos. Ela gritou seus nomes, do marido e dos filhos, só para ser recebida com o eco vazio da família... Da sua linhagem chegando ao fim.
Eesha nunca teve luxos na vida. Suas roupas demonstravam o uso diário trabalhando com a família. Cozinhando, cuidando da sorte grande que tinha lhe acometido na vida. Tão bela, tão prendada. Os pais tinham orgulho daquela combinação da filha perfeita e não demoraram em dar-lhe ao mercado rico em troca de uma vida melhor. Amor. Sim, teve amor além da aparência. Houve festa simples e o conto de fadas. E foi aquela beleza ímpar. O poder sedutor daquele olhar escuro, em destaque nos panos que protegiam o rosto do calor brutal e sol escaldante. Aquele conjunto da obra que tinha sido poupada por aqueles soldados. Demônios de chifres e garras e presas. Porque só podiam ser de outra realidade, trazidos dos pecados encarnados em criaturas malignas, para tratar daquele jeito um povoado tão tranquilo.
Eesha tinha poeira e areia e terra sob as unhas quebradas, incrustado nos cabelos outrora bem cuidados. Sua roupa estava rasgada em diversos pontos e o rosto apresentava os sinais da violência. Marcas escuras, formatos de dedos e tapas e punhos, derramando-se pelo corpo e reproduzido o padrão como lágrimas que não deixava escorrer. Os lábios bem firmes um contra o outro, segurando o fogo que queimava mais alto do que aquele deixado para trás. Eles tentaram, diversas vezes, mas o espírito indomável da indiana era tão inacreditável quanto a existência dos agressores. Cansaço? Exaustão? Os olhos nem pregavam quando o dia raiava, não quando usava aquele tempo para quebrar a perna da cadeira atrás de si. Usava de alavanca para alcançar a arma, a lâmina rompendo o que prendia seus pulsos.
Eesha estava pronta para fugir, deixar tudo para trás e se perder no luto, mas ao passar ao lado das gaiolas... Ela viu em cada rosto estrangeiro o semblante dos filhos e do marido. Se viu naquelas mãos estendidas em súplica. A lâmina de fuga salvou sua vida três vezes. A primeira arrebentou as fechaduras e libertou os prisioneiros. A segunda abriu a garganta dos captores, alertados pela ausência da bela indiana foram os primeiros a associar a cacofonia com suas intenções. E a terceira foi sem querer. Dominada por brutamontes, levada ao general de aparência desprezível, a mulher fingiu subjugação. Caiu aos pés implorando pela vida, puxando as vestes pesadas e enfiando os dedos na pesada indumentária. E chutou o chão para erguer-se do solo, pegar a faca e encontrar outra brecha na carne macia exposta.
Eesha estava coberta de sangue seco do marido, dormente para sentimentos quando mais vermelho se juntou às manchas marrons. O que eram eles se não... responsáveis? Objetivos específicos antes de seguir sua jornada no além mundo? Contida, mais uma vez, a mão quebrada como garantia, a mulher usava os dentes para se defender. A mandíbula estalando no ar, sons guturais incompreensíveis de gelar o sangue. E foi assim, mais animal do que humana que o corpo paralisou com a presença. O ar ficando pesado, a noite ficando mais escura. A indiana ficou quieta de repente, analisando o que se aproximava e se surpreendendo com quem adentrava a clareia em polvorosa.
Eesha nunca tinha ouvido a história de Drácula e talvez tivesse um destino diferente se o conhecimento lhe fosse acessível. Talvez ela não tivesse tentado a mesma técnica para ludibriar, talvez ela tivesse deixado o cabo da lança em paz. Talvez não tivesse juntando a força e audácia restante para atravessar-lhe o peito ou continuado o ataque quando o homem demonstrara uma força descomunal ao reduzir o cabo a frangalhos. Talvez não tivesse a mão de aço congelante no pescoço ou a escolha injusta imposta a si. Talvez... Só talvez... Teria uma morte digna e o caminho sagrado garantidos, não a existência amaldiçoada de uma não viva pelo sangue escuro de um vampiro. Talvez ela não fosse livre pela primeira vez em toda sua vida.
Eesha... Eesha... Eesha... Quem era Eesha?
Satyavati nasceu três dias depois e não parou de renascer até o dia de hoje.
DENTRO DE STORYBROOKE
Satyavati não esqueceu sua história quando abriu os olhos na sala requintada na Ópera da pequena cidade amaldiçoada. Seu nome humano enfeitando a placa de metal sobre a mesa de madeira maciça. Seus dedos lembravam das lâminas e armas, da forma como eram usadas para matar. O corpo, uma arma por si só, ainda cantava bem oleado a cada passo dado sobre os saltos altos. Nada tinha mudado na missão ao lado de Dracula, como espiã e discreta finalizadora de empecilhos. A maldição não restringiu sua forma de pensar, não reduziu o espírito que a tinham colocado onde estava na corte do vampiro. Contudo, ah, aquele era um excelente disfarce. Encarregada de organizar as atrações da histórica estrutura, fazendo seus pequenos favores em outros setores, a vampira ganhava reconhecimento e admiração. Perdia o caráter assustador para melhor se misturar ao mar de comida. E crescia, exercitava o lado mais simpático e compassivo com quem não merecia grandes coisas. Há quem diga encontrar falsidade nos atos de Satyavati, mas existem também os defensores que com um passar de dedo derretem-se sobre a indiana. Defendendo-a com o fervor que outrora apresentara para salvar a própria vida.
CURIOSIDADES
A personalidade não se encaixa em lugar nenhum pois não tem uma específica, uma tão concreta quanto as sete maravilhas do mundo. O tempo corrói e esfarela, deixa tudo relativo e tão fluído que seria estupidez manter-se constante. O trabalho, a missão descoberta com o novo despertar, facilitou nesse aspecto mutante. Na criação do apelido de Camelão, o sussurrar do nome parecido com o sibilar das irmãs venenosas do deserto. Satyavati é adaptável, aparentemente maleável, puxando para a armadilha com a suavidade da areia movediça. Porém, há quem diga enxergar seu lado doce - se os resquícios de mãe amorosa e trabalhadora ainda pudesse ser vistos.
Não é estranho a encontrar olhando para o vazio, o cenho franzido com leveza enquanto mexe a taça do líquido âmbar e espesso. Nesses momentos a vampira tenta lembrar do passado, da vida antes da transformação por Drácula, mas... Cada vez que tenta fica mais difícil dar rostos aos nomes esquecidos, empurrados pelo vento fresco de Storybrooke.
Enquanto ainda era Eesha, todos daquele pequeno vilarejo conheciam seus dons peculiares de saber o que estava por vir. Não era aberto, escancarado, mas coisinhas minúsculas e quase inofensivas. Um sexto sentido apurado, intuição feminina na sua forma mais concentrada! A indiana não contestou, sorrindo enviesado sem concordar ou discordar das conjecturas impostas à si. Se soubessem dos sonhos, dos momentos fora de sintonia, da realidade daquela condição... Não teria a vida tão tranquila. E, bem, agradeceu aos céus de que tal dom fora carregado para a não vida.
Oferece consultorias exclusivas para quem conseguir marcar horário. Conversas informais na sala privativa da indiana. Quem sai desses encontros diz ser o melhor momento da vida, mesmo com a cabeça leve e o hematoma em lugares inusitados. A vampira sangra suas vítimas depois de colocá-las num transe, o idioma antigo induzindo a complacência e calma durante a sangria. Do lado de fora da sala, num dos corredores menos iluminados, o ‘vão’ faz o papel de cúmplice. A vítima tropeça, cai de todo jeito e a mancha convenientemente aparece sobre as provas da vampira.
PODERES
Níveis elevados de regeneração, força e agilidade. Visão noturna. Precognição subjetiva.
INSPIRAÇÕES
Mazikeen (Lucifer), Inej Ghafa (Grishaverse), Alice Cullen (Twilight), Severo Snape (Harry Potter)
TOKEN
A adaga do General assassinado, última morte por suas mãos antes do renascimento. A primeira, usada para os guardas, quebrou-se depois do segundo assassinato e permaneceu perdida até os dias de hoje.
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