#ouat missing moments

[jrob64]

I Loved You First - a Daddy Charming birthday fic for @kmomof4

As many of us in the CS fandom know, Krystal is the best cheerleader, encourager and flailer for our Captain Swan stories. However, she also loves the relationship between Emma and Charming, so I've written a Daddy Charming birthday story for her. l wish you the happiest of birthdays (a day early), my dear friend! Love you!

Special thanks to @cs-rylie and @snowbellewells for checking this story over and leaving lots of lovely comments and suggestions!

STORY SUMMARY: Emma and her father share some special sentiments with each other before he walks her down the aisle to marry her True Love. A canon compliant missing moment for 6X20, just prior to Emma and Killian's wedding.

RATING: G

WORDS: 1083

ALSO POSTED TO A03 and ffn

*********

David Nolan paced in the hallway outside the room where Mary Margaret was helping Emma get ready for her wedding. He could hardly believe he would be giving his daughter away in just a few minutes, and to a pirate, no less.

He remembered in Neverland when he said he would see to it that Hook would never get Emma. David wasn’t too prideful to admit he��d been wrong. Nobody can stand in the way of True Love, after all - he and Snow were proof of that.

And now that pirate, whom he’d tried so hard to hate, was his soon-to-be son-in-law…and his best friend. While Killian was earning Emma’s heart, he was also earning her father’s trust and friendship. So much so that Emma and Mary Margaret teasingly accused them of having a ‘bromance’.

The door opened and Mary Margaret emerged, brushing joyful tears from her cheeks. “She’s ready, David, and she looks absolutely beautiful!”

David pulled his wife into his arms, murmuring, “So do you, Sweetheart.”

She hiccuped a laugh. “You’re only supposed to notice the bride on her wedding day, not her mother.”

He leaned back, giving her one of his trademark smiles. “There will never be a day when I don’t admire your beauty.”

“I knew I called you ‘Charming’ for a reason,” she beamed. After kissing him soundly, she wiped his lips clean of the lipstick she’d left behind and said, “Now, go see your daughter before it’s time for us to walk her down the aisle.”

David straightened his tie and buttoned his jacket, then gently rapped his knuckles on the door. “Emma? May I come in?”

“Sure, Dad,” came her reply.

He turned the knob and slowly opened the door, peeking around the edge of it. His breath hitched when he caught a glimpse of his daughter. She was truly a vision in her wedding gown and veil, causing him to blink back tears of his own. “Oh, Emma,” he breathed.

“How do I look?” she asked nervously, twirling in a circle.

“You look…perfect,” he managed to choke past the lump in his throat.

Her cheeks flushed at his praise and she looked down at herself, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles in her gown. “Do you really think so?”

“I do,” he assured her.

“Hey, I think that’s my line today,” she giggled.

David laughed and stepped forward to take both of her hands in his. “Any second thoughts?”

“None,” she said confidently. “Besides, if I don’t marry Killian, you might just snap him up.”

“Very funny,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. Then his expression sobered. “I know you’ve had a lot on your mind the last few weeks, but I want you to put everything aside today and just enjoy your wedding.”

“I’ll try.”

“I’ve thought about this day ever since we found out we were having a daughter. I was sure no one would ever be good enough for you, but Hoo-, um, Killian has proven himself time and time again. I suppose if I have to give your hand in marriage, it couldn’t be to a more worthy man.”

“You didn’t always think that.”

“I know, but I was, well…I was wrong.”

“I’m sure Killian would be very satisfied to hear you say that,” she quipped.

“Of course he would,” David sighed. “But enough about Hook. What about you? How are you feeling?”

Emma’s face took on a serene look. “I’m happy, Dad. Really, really happy.” She swung their still-clasped hands back and forth.

“Happiness looks good on you,” he replied, letting go with one hand and using the other to spin her around. Then he pulled her back toward him, putting his free hand on her waist as hers moved to his shoulder.

They slowly danced in a small circle around the room to music only they could hear. “We missed out on so much of your life, Emma. I’m very glad we didn’t miss out on watching you fall in love and marry the man who won your heart.”

“I know we lost a lot of time with each other, but let’s not talk about regrets today, Dad. We’re together now, along with Henry and everyone else in town. I have more family and friends here than I ever dreamed was possible. And I’m marrying a man who has been at my side without fail, even when I didn’t really want him to be.”

David chuckled. “He has proven himself to be persistent, that’s for sure.”

Their swaying came to a stop as Emma looked up into her father’s face. “You and Killian are such good examples for Henry. He’s lucky to have both of you in his life, and so am I.”

They heard the wedding music beginning to play, and David checked his watch. “I guess it’s about that time. Will you allow me to get a little sentimental before we leave this room?”

“Just don’t cause me to smudge my makeup.”

“I’ll try not to,” he promised, then took a deep breath. “Emma, from the moment your mother and I found out we would be having a baby, I wondered what our child - what you - might grow up to be like. Nothing I imagined even came close to the person you are - strong, smart, determined, brave, and so very, very beautiful. You’ve defeated dragons, ice monsters, witches, the darkness and Hades himself; yet you’re one of the most loving, generous, and kind-hearted people I’ve ever known. To say I’m proud of you doesn’t do justice to my true feelings. I love you, Emma, and I’m blessed beyond measure to be your father.”

A tear spilled over her lower lashes, and David dug into his pants pocket to retrieve a white handkerchief. After dabbing the wetness away, he tucked it back in his pocket, kissed her forehead, then pulled her into a hug, cupping the back of her head, as usual.

“I love you, too, Dad,” she whispered in his ear.

They stayed that way for several moments, until they heard a tap on the door. Mary Margaret stuck her head in, whispering reverently, “It’s time.”

David nodded and stepped back, gripping Emma’s upper arms as he looked into her eyes. “Ready, Princess?”

“Yes,” she replied firmly.

“Alright, then,” he said, “but just remember this - Killian loves you now, but I loved you first. You’ll always be your daddy’s little girl.”

“I’ll remember,” she said, a soft smile on her lips.

“Good. Now, let’s go get you married.”

*********

Please join me in wishing Krystal a very, very happy birthday!

Tagging: @hookedmom​​​​​​ @kmomof4​​​​​​ @cs-rylie​​​​​​ @qualitycoffeethings​​​​​​ @grimmswan​​​​​​ @wyntereyez​​​​​​ @the-darkdragonfly​​​​​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​​​​​ @paradiselady19​​​​​​ @xarandomdreamx​​​​​​ @motherkatereloyshipper​​​​​​ @julesep3026​​​​​​ @courtorderedcake​​​​​​ @lfh1226-linda​​​​​​ @pawshapedheart​​​​​​ @vampcoffeegyrl23​​​​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​​​​ @captainswan4life85​​​​​​ @bluewildcatfanatic​​​​​​ @eleveneitherway​​​​​​ @elfiola​​​​​​ @kday426​​​​​​ @julieenchanted-swans​​​​​​ @gingerchangeling​​​​​​ @andiirivera​​​​​​ @djlbg​​​​​​ @jonesfandomfanatic​​​​​​ @snowbellewells​​​​​​ @huntressandlioness1​​​​​​ @anmylica​​​​​​ @booksteaandtoomuchtv​​​​​​ @pirateherokillian​​​​​​ @cocohook38​​​​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​​​​​ @laschatzi​​​​​​ @zaharadessert​​​​​​ @jennjenn615​​​​​​ @yasbio2015​​​​​​ @lyssapup27​​​​​​ @nachocheese-itsmycheese​​​​​​ @singersdd​​​​​​ @mie779​​​​​​ @undercaffinatednightmare​​​​​​ @winterbaby89​​​​​​ @xsajx​​​​​​ @jackieorioncat​​​​​​ @teamhook​​​​​​ @bdevereaux-blanche​​​​​​ @soniccat​​​​​​ @searchingwardrobes​​​​​​ @jarienn972​​​​​​ @apiratewhopines​​​​​​​ @softkilly​​​​​​​ @goforlaunchcee​​​​​​​ @kymbersmith-90​​​​​​​ @captainswan217-blog

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: “Father Figure”

This week’s little one shot is chosen in honor of Father’s Day, and the sweet surrogate father-son relationship that developed between Killian and Henry as the show went on. It was originally written in late season six, around the time of the CS wedding, and so is meant to be fairly canon compliant, more of a missing moment sort of fic. There are some elements that diverge, but most it’s just something I envisioned having happened that we didn’t get to see. I hope you will enjoy - now with cover art!

Also available on AO3 or ff.net as part of my one shots collection “Of Swans and Swords and Hopeful Hearts”

by: @snowbellewells​ 

The morning of the wedding had begun in a troubling wet, dreary grey of rain drizzle, but by mid-afternoon the clouds had slowly parted and sunlight was peeking through their wispy, tattered remnants with gaining strength.  Killian Jones had stood for some time, uncaring if he got a bit wet, staring over the water from the side of the Jolly, hoping deep in his heart of hearts that they would not have to change the venue for their nuptials.  He would of course rather that than see the occasion dampened or have to postpone it even a day longer, but he had truly hoped to pledge his troth to his True Love while standing on the sturdy boards of his previous truest love; the old girl who had been his home and companion for centuries.   

 Once the day began to dry, Killian had gone below to his cabin and started getting dressed.  The dark suit with its soft, well-made material felt transformative against his skin, whispering as it brushed across his flesh that today was infinitely special.  Today began the rest of his life – the happiest and best part.  And in a town where magic was all around at most given moments, that this day would still have a magic all its own was truly saying something.  Emma Swan – the Princess of Misthaven, the Savior – loved him, and today she would promise to spend the rest of her life with him, as he would her.  As he shrugged into the waistcoat over the button up dress shirt, and deftly did its fastenings one-handed as well, Killian caught a glimpse of himself looking conspicuously misty-eyed in the reflection of the looking glass in the corner.  It was true that is some ways, ever since Neverland – no, perhaps even since Lake Nostos and the beanstalk – he had been pledging himself to Emma every day; still, the culmination of his deepest wish seemed more than he could possibly deserve.      

  He was interrupted then from his preparations and reverie by a quiet knock on the cabin door.  Just as well, Killian thought wryly, eying the bow tie laid out with the suit jacket on his bunk.  There had been little chance he would be able to secure said article – he’d never even worn one before – without someone’s help, and now such aid was presenting itself.

His heart warmed, smile deepening when the voice that called his name proved to be Henry, asking if he could come in.  “Aye,” Killian answered Swan’s boy affectionately, waving him forward when the teen’s face appeared around the edge of the sturdy wood.  “Come in.  I’m always glad to have you aboard, Lad, you know that.”

Henry nodded, but cleared his throat nervously and looked more than a bit uneasy as he shuffled his feet forward into the room.

Killian was momentarily concerned at the young man’s bearing – surely if something were wrong, if something had happened to Emma, he would know; he would feel it.  There had been nothing from their fae nemesis this day, and he had hoped to have this one occasion without fight or interruption, but he wouldn’t put it past the malicious Stiltskin matriarch to make her presence known even now.  He was halfway across his cabin to the bracket under the window where he had carefully stowed his sword, ready to take it up again in service of his Swan, when Henry finally spoke.

As he did, and as Killian turned to listen to the young man about to officially become his stepson, Killian noticed for the first time that the Author also carried a book in his hand.  It was not his usual storybook, the huge brown leather bound one bearing all their past tales in the Enchanted Forest, but a smaller black one the pirate had never seen before.

“Killian,” Henry started again, voice still soft and somewhat hesitant as he moved closer, finally coming to stand face-to-face with the man who had become supporter, confidante and sometime partner-in-crime to him – in some ways, the most constant father figure he’d known.  He held his hand out, with the handsome new book in it, offering it to Killian.  “In this realm, they sometimes give the guy getting married something.  It’s called a groom’s gift.  So… anyway… I just wanted to give you this,” he offered, meeting Killian’s eyes fleetingly and then dropping his gaze again with a sheepish flush to his cheeks.  “It’s not much really… but I… I wanted you to have it.  It’s our story.”

The pirate’s eyes shot up to Henry’s, awed emotion flowing through him and having to see into the face of this extraordinary young man he loved as his very own to make sure he was really hearing what he thought.  “Truly?” he finally choked out, arching an eyebrow despite himself, his voice low and rougher than normal, but struck deeply by the gesture that Henry was making.

Henry chuckled a bit then, as if Killian’s sincere gratitude and affection made him more at ease with the gift he had given.  “Aye,” the youth mocked Hook now in his answer, and they both seemed unable to stop the silly grins spreading across their faces.

“Well then, thank you, m’boy,” Killian spoke solemnly, clasping Henry’s shoulder warmly and merely drinking in the moment, stunned that his long, tangled lifeline had brought him here with this young man, a chance at a family he would have never imagined coming to him again.

Killian took the gift, holding it in his hand and running his thumb over the smooth cover reverently.  Curious, he almost flipped it open to see what Henry had put down, but as if reading his mind, the lad stepped forward, shaking his head.  Cheeks flushed again, Henry’s grasp on Killian’s forearm stilled his motion to open and begin reading.  “No!  Don’t read it now while I’m standing here!” the teen exclaimed in humored exasperation.

Smirking only slightly, Killian conceded, “As you wish,” with an affectionate nod of deference to Henry’s wishes.  Sitting the book on his bunk for the moment, he turned back to the lad seriously before pressing on.  “I shall wait until later to peruse your fine gift.  But… if I may – perchance you might do one more thing for me?”  Reddening a bit himself, Killian gestured to the undone bow tie where he had discarded it atop the desk by his mirror, his awkward all-done-up collar, and gave his stepson a lopsided smile. “If you could be so kind?”

Shaking his head, Henry nodded and stepped forward, releasing a good natured snort of laughter at Killian’s expense, but lightly reaching out and putting the ensemble together as best he knew how, much like his Grandpa David had shown him to do his own.

When he had finished, the teen gave his soon-to-be stepdad a once over, smiling once more at the man he had come to look up to, who loved his mom and made her smile, who had taught him sailor’s knots and navigation by the stars, and how to manage his algebra homework.  This man had always had his back.  Even when Henry himself had been too stubborn to see, Killian had wanted the best for him, as any father would.  Though he would always miss his birth father and wish they had gotten more time together, Henry was struck suddenly by how his father figure had been there all along; he had never been truly without.  Dropping his hands from the slightly crooked but still fastened bow tie, Henry lunged forward to hug Captain Hook – their pirate – tightly in a swell of gratitude and love.

Killian was stunned still for several beats of time, blinking rapidly at the tears which welled up at Henry’s tight embrace and obvious acceptance, but he quickly recovered and hugged Swan’s boy back just as firmly, clasping him close for several long moments.  When they parted, there were conspicuous snuffles and bashful half smiles on both their parts, but also a new understanding of just how gladly and irrevocably they were family now.

A text buzzed through for Henry then, and he pulled out his talking phone as Killian watched.  “Grandma needs me for some decoration issue,” Henry said.  “So, are we all set, Captain?”

“Aye,” Killian affirmed with a wide grin and quick nod.  “I’ll see you again shortly…at the altar.”

~~*~~

After Henry had dashed off, Killian moved to his bunk once more, fully ready for the ceremony that was only a little over an hour away.  Before he headed above deck though, he was anxious to look at the gift his stepson had brought him.

Taking a seat on the edge of his bed, Killian picked up the book, opened to the first page, and began to read:

            “Once there was a little boy with an old soul and a heavy heart.  Though he believed in heroes and good and fairy tales, he didn’t know if anyone really loved him or where he truly belonged.

            There was also, once upon a time, a man who had lived for centuries, but had lost his boyhood much too soon. He was alone in the world with nothing and no one to live for.

            In truth, the two should never have met.  But meet they did, and the story of how it came to be, brought love and joy back into both of their lives…”

Killian kept reading, through a sheen of happy tears, all the way to the end; the warmth in his heart spreading throughout his whole body until he felt it might escape in beams of light from his fingers and toes.  He could hardly wait to thank Henry for this precious gift, and though words would not fully express it, attempt to tell the lad how much it meant to him. 

Neither of them had lived through very happy starts, but they were now embarking on their happy ending at last…

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @cosette141 @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @xsajx @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @sotangledupinit @anmylica @motherkatereloyshipper​ @gingerchangeling​ @gingerpolyglot​ @tiganasummertree​ @optomisticgirl​ @spartanguard​ @therooksshiningknight​ @xarandomdreamx​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @ineffablecolors​ 

[kazoosandfannypacks]

“Always Remember (the burning embers)” by kazoosandfannypacks

Pairing: Captain Swan Rating: General Word Count: 1380 Summary: Killian and Emma have a late night conversation about careless words that've left their scars Tags: au, fluff, captain swan, one shot, post canon, canon compliant, fix-it-fic, missing moment Author’s notes: I've been planning this fic for a little while here, since sometime during season 5. The title is based on the taylor swift song "the great war," which I feel nicely sums up Killian and Emma during the Dark Ones arc, though this fic takes place probably a couple years later. Taglist:@zahara@kmomof4@jonesfandomfanatic@booksteaandtoomuchtv@jrob64@tiganasummertree@anmylica@teamhook@undercaffinatednightmare@gingerchangeling@lonelyspectator@caught-in-the-filter  @ultraluckycatnd  @cs-rylie @silver-the-phoenix @pawshapedheart [if you’d like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

Also on Ao3!

 Killian had gotten so used to waking up next to Emma that it always felt weird when he didn't- especially when it was two A.M., and she'd been right there when he fell asleep, and now she wasn't.

 At first, he suspected maybe she'd gone to the bathroom or to get a drink of water or something like that- but then he saw her, sitting at the foot of the bed, seeming a touch unwell.

 "Is something wrong, love?" he whispered.

 She turned around, a bit startled.

 "I didn't realize you were still up."

 "Love, it's two in the morning," he said, "have you been awake this whole time?"

 "I guess," Emma said.

 "What's wrong, love?"

 "Nothing," she shook her head.

 He knew her better than to believe that.

 "What's wrong?" he repeated.

 "Nothing important." Emma said, quickly.

 "Emma," he said, hoping his soft tone could soften whatever armor she'd been crafting, "if you're up thinking about it at two in the morning, it must be important. What's wrong?"

 She sighed, and glanced back at him for a moment- and in that moment he nodded to her, like you'd nod to an injured animal to ask it to trust you, to tell her, "Go on. Let me help you."

 "It still feels like a fairy tale," she said.

 Rather than try and read into that statement, he simply asked for clarification.

 "What does?"

 "All of it," she said, in a whispered breath like an angry laugh, "you, Henry, my parents, our home- our happy beginning."

 "Aye," Killian nodded, knowing she still hadn't hit the point of her problem.

 "And the problem with a fairytale is the story always ends, the book closes, and you're back to being whoever it was you were escaping from."

 "Emma," Killian crawled out from under the covers and over to the foot of the bed so he could sit next to her, "what we have here is real, and it's not going away."

 "I know," Emma shook her head, "and I'm trying so hard to believe that."

 "What's stopping you?"

 She shrugged. "Myself. For someone whose job is happy endings, I'm pretty good at destroying my own."

 "What's that supposed to mean, love?" Killian asked, trying to sound reassuring and not like that was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard.

 "I…." she shook her head.

 "You don't need to push me away, love."

 "That's just the thing- that's what I do," she shook her head, "I push people away- people I love."

 And she tacked on, on top of it all, so softly he almost didn't hear it: "and that's why I'll always be an orphan."

 "Emma, love," he said, carefully but desperately turning her face to his, "where did you get such a ridiculous idea?"

 She pushed away physically this time, shaking her head and turning away from him.

 "I'm glad you don't remember," she said, almost smiling.

 "Remember what?"

 "It's nothing."

 "It's not," he insisted, his voice raising above a whisper for the first time that night, "talk to me."

 Her eyes almost seemed the blue ones for all the tears they held back as she looked up at him. He wanted to help her, wanted to dry the tears she was afraid to cry, wanted to clean up the mess she was afraid to spill, and wanted to make everything right for her. That's all he ever wanted for Emma, to be that for her, to be the one she could turn to no matter what she was facing- to be the one who made her burdens lighter.

 "The conversation at Regina's," Emma took a deep breath, "back when we were Dark Ones."

 He'd tried so hard to purge those awful memories, choosing to dwell on their happy moments instead of ones like that, those moments where they didn't trust each other, where they closed themselves off to each other, where they argued with each other….

 "That moment when I told her she'd always be an orphan," He recalled, "her pain now is my fault."

 He didn't know what to say now. All he knew how to do was throw his arms around her, pull her close to him, hold her as tight as he could and choke out an "I'm sorry."

 So, that's what he did.

 "It wasn't you," Emma said, "it was the darkness. I've tried not to mention it, because I know you'd never…."

 Though he couldn't see her face (which was buried in his embrace,) he could tell by the way her voice trailed off that she was crying, and he quickly let go of his right arms' grip around her, so he could catch the tears as they rolled down her cheek.

 He knew his apology was nowhere near sufficient, but he still didn't know what to say- what could his words do to make up for such loveless atrocities?

 "I'm sorry," Emma said, "I shouldn't've brought it up. I shouldn't've mentioned it."

 "Nonsense," he said, taking her hand in his and pulling it close to his chest, "I never want you to think that a problem you have is too big to share with me. Understand?"

 She nodded. He sighed, unsure what words would tumble out after his breath.

 "I love that you're my anchor, Emma," he said, "a ship would be lost without her anchor, and I'd be lost without you. I love everything you've ever done for me. Do you know what else I love about you?"

 "What?"

 "Call me a bit of a narcissist, but I love that you're my mirror. When I see you, I see a lot of myself. I see someone who never gives up, someone who risks their life for those they love, someone who does everything they can to be a hero, no matter what mistakes they've made.

 "And when I first met you, I saw what you were," he continued, "and what I was- a lost boy, a lone wolf- an orphan. And when I said those angry dark words I wish I could take back, words I never should've said- I was talking to myself too."

 He'd never seen a perfect blend of confusion and understanding quite like the one he saw on her face now.

 "We did push people away, love. We did hide from the people who cared about us. That's why we should still be orphans. But that's not what we are anymore."

 "Why not?"

 "Because we turn to the people we love. We've set aside our armor and chosen something new."

 "What's that?"

 "Trust."

 Still holding her hand close to his heart, he instead brought it to his lips and kissed it.

 "Emma Swan, you will never be an orphan again. That's not who you are anymore. You're the Savior. You're my True Love, my happy beginning and ending and everything in between. You're a mother and a daughter and a hero and the most perfect wife a man could ever ask for."

 "Some days I have trouble believing that," Emma shook her head, "but I believe in you."

 With the hand that he wasn't holding, Emma reached up and stroked his face, her cold hand warming against his cheek. "So if you can believe in me, I can believe in me too," she said.

 "I'm glad to hear it, love."

 "And you're not an orphan anymore either, Killian Jones," Emma said. She kissed his hand, then pulled it close to her heart, "You're my family. You're my best friend. You're my true love. My hero."

 "Aye," He nestled his head against her forehead, gently, then whispered "I love you."

 "I love you too," she whispered back, "thank you."

 "Anytime, love," he said, "now, let's get back to bed."

 They both let go of each other, only so they could crawl back across to the other side of the bed. As soon as they were both under the covers, Emma slid into his arms, wrapping her own arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest.

 "Goodnight, my love," he said, craning his neck forward so he could kiss her forehead.

 "Goodnight, Killian." She replied, sounding sleepy but satisfied.

 And with that, Killian fell asleep the only way that felt natural anymore- with Emma in his arms.

[mysteryandnonstopfun]

[ace-with--a-mace]

i have been watching american housewife

[hecckyeah]

am i late-night sob-surfing through videos of emma swan and david nolan? maybe. so what? don't judge me okAy

[snowbellewells]

@spartanguard Oh wow, I am ridiculously late in getting a chance to read and reblog this lovely little birthday fic, but it was truly sweet and touching and really a just right sort of treat to enjoy this Saturday morning!! I loved that Emma had taken the trouble to find Killian’s true birthday and went out of her way to mark it, and to show him how much his presence matters. And not only to her either, but also to his extended Charming family.

It makes me a bit teary-eyed to think that really neither he or David were exactly sure when they had been born and that both have probably not been celebrated as they should have been over the years, but that is true for Killian especially. No wonder his bro’s heartfelt words bring up the lump in his throat there towards the end.

The memory he has of his mother and at least how he knew the season of his birth was both lovely and heartbreaking as well. I do like that he at least has that little bit of memory though after so many years, and when he hadn’t really even felt it mattered. But that his True Love has now given him many more precious memories to mark his birthday is the perfect way to end this little story, even if their still many more years left to celebrate in their adventure together!

Thanks for sharing this with us!!

an important date

it's Friday and it's Colin's birthday....I had to do something!! Just a bit of a post-canon Captain Charming scene, inspired by this prompt: "We both meet at the bar at a birthday party but we don’t even know who’s birthday it is. I think it’s yours, you think it’s mine." 1.1k, rated T | AO3

The Rabbit Hole was…well, the Rabbit Hole—its usual divy self. It wasn’t where Killian would typically expect to find David, least of all on the prince’s birthday.

At least—he thought that’s what Emma had said? She’d all but shoved him out of the station that evening, with the direction to meet her father here for a “birthday drink”. Of the birth dates he’d memorized (and would never forget—Emma’s, Henry’s, Hope’s), he realized he was severely lacking when it came to his in-laws.

But perhaps David’s would be easier to remember, given its proximity to his own. Or, rather, when he thought his own was; the actual date was long since lost to time, realm travel, and changing calendars, and it had been centuries since he’d actually done anything to mark the date, but he remembered it being in spring. 

Really the only fond memory he had of the day was picking fresh wildflowers with his mother, the light scent filling their small house, and the sweet taste of the modest cake she’d baked. When the hyacinth began to bloom in Storybrooke, he was always taken back to that day, and generally used that milestone to mark the passing of his years—but he’d lived enough of them that he needed no extra celebration or recognition.

As it was, the first shoots of spring had only just begun to emerge, so by his math, that put David’s birthday—or whatever today was—a few weeks ahead of his own. Good to know.

He scanned the bar for his mate—squinting a bit harder than he’d like to admit in the dim light (further evidence of the passage of time, he presumed)—almost missing him at the far end of the counter, until David waved at him.

“Evening, mate,” he greeted as he slid onto the barstool next to his father-in-law. “Not your typical scene, eh?” he added, nodding towards the rest of the bar, where all manner of seedy goings-on (well, as much as ever happened in Storybrooke) were happening—things the deputy sheriff should probably be concerned with, but he was off the clock (and had no room to talk).

David shrugged. “I’ve been known to pass the occasional night here—cursed and not cursed. Having royalty around seems to keep things calm.”

“Aye, but you’ve never been here with a pirate,” he winked back, even if it had been ages since he’d anything resembling a rowdy night. The most exciting his had been lately were the times that they managed to get a teething Hope down early enough to squeeze in some intimacy, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Emma’s father.

“No,” David agreed. “But I figured I could manage for one night. To mark the occasion and all.”

“Aye; it does warrant that. My apologies for not knowing the date sooner—happy birthday, Dave.”

But instead of the customary thanks, David just tilted his head at him, brow furrowed in confusion. “Huh?”

Bloody hell—had he misheard Emma? “We’re here to celebrate your day of birth, are we not?”

“No; my birthday is in July—so now I kind of am offended,” David replied, though his tone was light. “Wait—did Emma not tell you?”

“She told me to meet you here for a birthday drink—I assumed that meant it was yours.”

“No, man—it’s yours.”

“Come again?” He’d never so much as commented to anyone, including Emma, the whereabouts of birth date; so how would either of them, least of all David, have known?

David explained, “Remember near the end of her pregnancy, when her magic was kind of overpowered and she was trying to release it?” How could Killian forget? He spent a whole week with blue hair, and trying to keep Pop-Tarts from flying around the house. “Apparently during that, she was trying out a bunch of easy, informational spells; there was one about revealing birthdates. Turned out mine was off by a couple of days. But yeah, she did yours, too; she never mentioned it?”

Killian was momentarily speechless. Not out of betrayal or anything—things were rather chaotic leading up to Hope’s birth, so he didn’t blame Emma for letting it slip her mind—but moreso that it had been able to be determined.

And, despite the last several years being filled with things such as True Love, marriages, and more family than he’d ever imagined having, he was still touched by the idea that anyone cared enough about him to know the date he’d entered this world (or whichever world it was)—and even more that they wanted to acknowledge it. 

“Uh, no,” he said, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. “I seem to recall her pregnancy brain was pretty bad then,” he quipped, hoping to lighten the moment. “So—really? Today?”

“Today,” David confirmed. Killian thought back to the wildflowers—then recalled that he grew up in a far warmer climate than Maine’s, perhaps the reason for his miscalculation.

(Also: he now understood why Emma had woken him with morning sex that day. That was never something he’d question, though—and also something he wouldn’t dare mention in present company.)

The barkeep then set two glasses of amber liquid in front of David. He slid one across the worn wood to Killian, then raised his own. “Happy birthday, Killian. To the best son-in-law—best friend—a man could ask for.”

Killian clinked his glass against David’s and quickly took a sip, hoping it might wash down the lump that had formed in his throat. Alas, it didn’t—but at least it was there with good reason. “Thank you, mate; and, uh, the feeling is mutual.” It wasn’t often words escaped him, so hopefully his father-in-law picked up on the weight of the emotion in his voice; he tried to find David’s eyes, but was overcome with an odd bashfulness he hadn’t felt since youth.

David just gave a gentle chuckle and a solid, brotherly thump on the shoulder, before attempting to down his own shot of rum—which brought on laughter of a different kind, but it broke the bit of tension. 

They shared another drink after (whiskey; far more palatable to the prince), before leaving to their respective princesses—and sharing perhaps a stronger embrace than Killian had originally intended, but it was certainly called for. 

As sweet as his memories from childhood were, it was nice to add this one to the collection of birthday remembrances—the first in so long. (And, as he eventually found, not the last—not by a long shot—in the many years to come.)

(However, he still refused, in all those celebrations, to tell David the way Emma preferred to mark the occasion.)

-----------------------------💙💙-------------------------------

[thanks for reading, and happy Captain Charming Friday! tags below cut]

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[heliads]

Can you do Peter Pan x reader OUAT? Peter goes to the modern world with Emma, Snow, David and them as they are looking for someone. He meets this girl and takes an interest to her. He’s never seen someone with facial piercings, and dyed hair before, they come to realize she is the girl they’ve been looking for.

'magic finds magic' - peter pan

masterlist

Peter Pan is leaving Neverland. Worse, he’s leaving Neverland alongside Snow, Emma, David, and Hook. In terms of traveling partners, this has got to be the lowest of the low. However, the sand in Peter’s immortal hourglass is running out, and his first attempt at prolonging his life with the heart of Henry Mills didn’t exactly go according to plan. It’s this or nothing, even though Peter is starting to wonder if it would be better to just die than put up with these people any longer.

Never in his life did Peter Pan think he’d be working with the good guys. But never in his life did Peter think he’d be dying, either. A few compromises will have to be made in the name of preserving Peter’s everlasting life, and if that means he has to put up with some princesses and pirates for a few days, so be it. In no time at all, his immortal life will be restored, and he can go back to Neverland and put all of this behind him. Hopefully.

Peter was supposed to die back on Neverland. He was running out of time, anyway. He had set up the perfect scheme:  kidnap Henry, disorient the boy’s rescuers on his island long enough to win the Heart of the Truest Believer, and cut the organ out of the boy’s chest if necessary. He’d almost gotten away with it, too, except he was foiled at the last minute. Heartbreaking. So unlike him.

For some reason, though, he hadn’t been left to die in the caverns of Skull Rock. Emma and the others had needed him, for some odd reason, and although none of them trust him in the slightest, they do trust Peter’s single-minded selfishness to keep himself alive. So they claim, at least, and so they had gotten a spell to give Peter one more week of life in exchange for help. If this plan works out, Peter will have a way to continue his immortal life without needing to murder Henry. If it doesn’t, or if he betrays them, he’ll die anyway.

He can feel it now, the pang of his close call with death. There’s a pain in his chest that wasn’t there before, a certain weakness in his lungs. Peter gets tired more easily. He feels– well, he feels like Henry and Emma. He feels mortal. Like he could die at any moment.

Peter has, obviously, thought about double-crossing them, maybe even triple-crossing them, but it’s no use. He feels shakily mortal right now, and Peter does not much enjoy the possibility of his own demise. This is the closest he’s ever come to being beaten, and Peter hates the feeling. He’ll have to play along for now, but after that, he will have his revenge.

First, though, Peter has to do what the others want. They’ve been careful to reveal as few details to him as possible, but the idea is solid. There’s a magical person somewhere in the modern world, in a city far from Storybrooke. This person is like the embodiment of a true love’s kiss spell, designed to renew hope in storybook characters through small acts of power that ultimately drive two needed people together. They’re like a guardian angel of those on the brink of destruction, which is exactly what Peter needs right now.

Peter has plenty of time to mull this over. They’ve forced him into a terrible, small room with awful carpets– an apartment, Emma called it– while they talk out what to do with both him and their missing spell-person. Peter is trying to focus, but he’s getting stared at by Henry Mills again, which is absolutely ruining his mood.

“What do you want?” Peter asks, glaring at the boy.

Henry just goggles back at him. “Don’t you feel bad for trying to kill me?”

Peter snorts. “Why would I do that?”

Henry shrugs. “You pretended you were my friend. I know you like the other Lost Boys on your island, I thought you would have felt bad for killing one of them. I guess not.”

“I don’t feel bad about killing someone so I would live,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s arguing with a child. “Go preach your morals to someone who wants to listen.”

“The others are busy,” Henry pouts.

Peter eyes him unhappily. “And what, I’m your best option for polite conversation? You really are desperate, aren’t you?”

Henry rolls his eyes. “I’d say you’re desperate. You’re the one who’s still talking to me.”

Peter can’t really argue with that, so he deftly changes the topic of conversation before Henry starts looking proud of himself again. “Tell me about our target again. You said you saw them before?”

“Only in a dream,” Henry admits, “but it was a clear dream, I swear. I saw a girl who looked about your age. She seemed like any other teenager, but there was something about her that was different. The way she spoke, maybe, or the glint in her eyes. She was magical, I’m sure of it. She can save Storybrooke.”

“And save me,” Peter reminds him. “That’s the important part.”

Henry rolls his eyes again. If he keeps that up, they’re going to get stuck like that forever. “Yes, I know, you’re only interested in keeping yourself alive. So long as it helps us find this girl, though, I don’t care.”

Peter leans forward. “What’s your plan for finding this girl, then? A little scouting party? This city is big. You’ll never find her.”

Henry shakes his head. “Magic has a way of finding magic. Somehow, our paths will cross.”

“That’s a terrible strategy,” Peter grouses. Why is he entrusting his life to this boy again? He remembers something about having no other options, but it doesn’t seem as good an excuse right now.

“Ask the adults, then,” Henry tells him, and gestures towards the miniscule apartment kitchen, where Emma, Snow, Hook, and David are currently huddled around a table, talking in hushed voices about what to do.

Not wanting to mess with the kid anymore, Peter pulls himself to his feet and heads over. “Tell me you have a plan,” he says.

The adults look up at him. “Find the girl,” Hook says shortly. “That’s our plan.”

Peter scoffs. “You could search this city for months and not find her. What if she doesn’t want to be found? If this girl has any brains at all, she’ll know that people will want her magic and she’ll hide. It’s what I would do.”

Emma sighs. “We don’t even know if this girl knows that she has magic. She’s probably just living an ordinary life, and we’re about to drag her out of it with all of our trouble.”

“Don’t tell me you feel bad for her,” Peter scolds her. “You want this, don’t you? So go get it, or I will.”

Snow tries to tell him to calm down, but David, so quick to anger when it comes to Peter, surges out of his chair. “How about you do something helpful and think with us instead of just insulting us?”

“I will do something helpful,” Peter informs him. “I’ll find her first.”

With that, he lunges for the apartment door, and is out of the tiny room and down the hall before they can stop him. Peter hears the thunder of footsteps after him, but he hurries down the stairs and out of the building. He has the advantage of being quick on his feet; if Neverland taught him anything, it’s how to run when you don’t want to be found.

Peter emerges into the bright sunshine of the city and stops dead in his tracks. He’s not used to the modern world, how the knives of its buildings slash up into the sky, how loud it is with those cars and signs and people. Peter swears he can even see metal things in the sky, soaring along predestined paths. It’s all so much compared to the world he used to know. No wonder some of the others had a hard time adjusting. His mortal heart lets out a pang of sympathy.

The door of the apartment building flies open, revealing Emma and the others hot on his trail. Peter curses under his breath and takes off in one direction, hurtling around pedestrians and shooting down the sidewalk. He heads for smaller streets, hoping to lose them in a swarm of alleyways. The others, more used to the terrain of the modern city, are gaining on him, and Peter is just starting to think that he’ll never be able to shake them when someone grabs him and pulls him into a nearby building.

Peter’s first instinct is to defend himself, but when he isn’t attacked, he realizes that the stranger is only trying to help him. There’s a window just to his left, and Peter watches Emma and the others appear seconds after him. They didn’t see him enter the shop, and keep sprinting down the road in the direction they thought he’d gone. Peter waits a few more intense moments, then decides that he’s lost them for good and turns back around to see who’s gone to the trouble of rescuing him.

He’s greeted with the sight of a girl about his age. She’s eyeing him cautiously, although the corners of her lips begin to prick up with a wicked grin. “Sorry for the rough introduction, but you looked like you needed some help,” she tells him.

Peter lets out a short laugh. “I’m glad to be rid of them, that’s for sure.”

The girl arches a brow. “What, did they catch you shoplifting? I’ve never seen people run that fast unless they were getting chased by the cops.”

Peter narrows his eyes, trying to figure out how on earth he would lift a shop, then decides it’s probably some slang term he doesn’t know. “Something like that,” he says evasively.

He studies the girl’s face to see if he’d answered correctly, and, judging by her impressed grin, he had. “Nice,” she says. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Peter,” he replies. He gets the urge to introduce himself as he usually would– Peter, Peter Pan– then remembers at the last second that Emma had warned him about telling people who he was. Apparently, telling people he was a fictional character in their world wouldn’t go over too well.

“Peter,” the girl repeats. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Peter says, and realizes belatedly that he means it. He feels like how he had at the start of it all, when the Lost Boys had first started appearing on this island, but this feeling is far stronger. He wants to get to know this girl. He certainly doesn’t want her to leave.

“I’m new to the city,” he says abruptly. “Any chance you could show me around?”

Y/N laughs, surprised. “You’re new and you’re already in trouble? You’ll fit right in, Peter.”

He grins, in on the joke a half beat late. “I like to have fun, that’s all.”

“Well,” Y/N says, starting to lead him back towards the door of the shop, “I like fun, too. Maybe we should stick together.”

“I’d like that,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s being so honest all of a sudden. When he sees Y/N’s smile– real this time, not sarcastic or joking, but genuinely because of him– he thinks he knows why.

The two of them step back out into the light. “Where to first?” Peter asks.

“I was going to ask you that,” Y/N replies. “What do you want to do? Sightseeing, maybe? We can get some food, or just talk.”

“Anything,” he says. He’d follow her anywhere. The feeling in him right now is like nothing he’s ever felt before. The pain in his chest, Peter realizes with some surprise, is gone. He feels immortal. Like living in this one moment could last forever.

They end up spending the next few hours together. Y/N shows him around the city, taking Peter to her favorite spots. Peter stares at the vast cityscape and finally starts to understand why someone might choose the modern world over the natural one. He’ll always pick Neverland first, of course, but seeing the world through Y/N’s eyes, it makes sense.

The two of them get along like a house on fire. Y/N’s got this rebellious streak to her that fits in perfectly with Peter’s, well, Peter-ness. No joke is too dark, no sarcastic comment too caustic. They feel the same. Peter doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who thinks so much like him.

As the sun starts to set in the sky, Peter feels his spirits sinking. He doesn’t want to let go of this day, not when he knows it can never happen again. He’s supposed to be finding Henry’s spell-girl, but all Peter wants to do is spend more time with Y/N.

His mood is especially ruined when they turn a corner and find Henry Mills walking towards them. Peter’s eyes widen and he tries to steer Y/N back in the direction they’d come, but it’s too late. Henry lets out an audible gasp and starts hurrying towards them.

“Peter,” Henry calls out when he’s close enough to talk, “We’ve been looking for you all over! Where have you been?”

Y/N glances at Henry dubiously. “Who’s this?”

“My little brother,” Peter blurts out.

At the same time, Henry chimes in, “My friend from school.”

Peter shoots the younger boy a quick glare, then turns back to Y/N. “Both, actually. He’s my step-brother. Recent marriage. We’re still getting acclimated. Our family is a little chaotic.”

“You can say that again,” Henry mumbles. Peter fights the urge to butcher him.

While Peter silently advises himself on why murder would be bad at a time like this, Henry stares openly at Y/N. All of a sudden, the boy’s mouth hangs open. “Oh my gosh, it’s you.”

Y/N’s brow furrows. “Excuse me?”

All of a sudden, Peter feels a sick sensation in his stomach. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

“You’re the girl from my dream,” Henry announces. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Y/N looks back at Peter. “What’s he talking about?”

The open, carefree expression, which had been on her face all day, is starting to be replaced with deep, unsettled fear. Peter hates to see it directed at him. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he begins. “Something about yourself.”

“You’re sounding a little creepy right now,” Y/N warns him. “Get to the point.”

“Alright,” Peter says. “You’re magical. So am I. We need your help to break a curse and save my life. How about that?”

Y/N shakes her head quickly. “This is crazy. Magic isn’t real.”

Peter can’t lose her, not like this, so he leans forward and holds out his hand. A ball of light appears inside his cupped fingers, glowing and bright. It’s a simple charm, one of the first he learned, but it has the desired effect. 

Y/N stares at it, transfixed, and when she speaks again, her voice is hushed. “That’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible,” Peter says. “Not magic. Not even the fact that you would find me in this city by accident. Magic is drawn to magic.”

Y/N’s eyes slowly raise to meet his. “This is real, then. I have magic.”

“You have magic,” Peter confirms. “Come with us, we can show you. They’re good people, Y/N. You can trust them.”

It’s the closest he’s ever come to honesty. For once, Peter isn’t playing a game. He isn’t trying to trick Y/N over to his side. He just wants her to be safe, and he knows that isn’t through lies.

Y/N smiles at him. “I trust you, Peter. That’s enough for me.”

She reaches over and takes his hand. Now that he’s focusing on it, Peter can feel the slow loop of her magic when they touch. It feels like power, but more than that, it feels like life. A life with her, maybe. A life for both of them.

ouat tag list: @loveanimals0000, @eclliipsed, @w1shes43, @lost-ender

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[wlw-imagines]

A Hunter By Trade - Ruby Lucas/Reader (Once Upon a Time)

prompt: "Could I request a Ruby(from OUAT) x reader one shot where R is a werewolf hunter and doesn't know Ruby is a werewolf and when R finds out Ruby is terrified that she'll leave her or kill her but instead the reader quits being a hunter and becomes a cop with Emma and David? Some fluff in the end?" - anon

a/n: these are from my old tumblr thefandomwritings from back in 2018 ! re-vamped and re-purposed!! hope u enjoy and forgive the 2018 me style writing 

Having just finished your shift in the forest, hunting under Mr Gold's insistence, you were happy to finally be off work for another month and back with your girlfriend at Granny's Diner. Ruby's long hours of working there often meant you're schedules of night shifts and hers of day shifts would clash but for the next month you were free to spend time with her,

"Morning Y/N." Emma gave you a small wave as you walked into the Diner like you did every morning after work.

You sent Emma and Henry a tired smile, "Morning you two. Hot chocolate and waffles before school, Henry?" You asked the young boy who smiled cheekily and nodded, stuffing a forkful of his breakfast into his mouth.

You were going to stop for a chat before you realised you still had your hunting weapons on you and you should probably get rid of them. Your knife still strapped to your thigh and your silver gun still in its holster at your hip. Emma seemed to notice at the same time and was about to speak but was fortunately cut off by your girlfriend.

"Y/N! Good morning, how was work?" Ruby asked, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug.

In an attempt to make your working life sound normal you simply shrugged and mumbled, "Quiet", which wasn't too far from the truth. You had never actually told Ruby exactly what your job entailed. All she really knew was that you had to work night shifts. However, she seemed content enough with your answer and pressed a light kiss to your lips.

Smiling, you pulled her close to you. You missed her when you were out working, you enjoyed the warmth and comfort just being in her arms caused you. Then that little moment was ruined by Emma inevitably speaking up.

"Need a gun for work, Y/N?" You turned to see her raising an eyebrow, looking at you intensely over her own steaming drink.

You rolled your eyes, "It's perfectly legal Swan." Justifying your actions as you sensed her legal conscience was starting to make an appearance.

Ruby's grip on you slowly loosened and you noticed her frown slightly, "You have a gun? How didn't I know you have a gun?"

"It's nothing Ruby. It was my mother's before she died," You smiled softly but Ruby still seemed unconvinced, "Mr Gold kindly made sure I got it a couple of weeks ago. Just before the spell broke."

Ruby shifted slightly, looking more uneasy by the minute, "But what's it for? Why do you even need it?" She protested.

"Originally it was just in memory of my mother but then Gold needed a favour so I thought I'd help him out and so more recently I've just been using it to keep the town safe, I guess. That's all he asked me to do. It's kind of in my blood to do it." You smiled proudly, now knowing that your mother and your mother's mother had both been Hunter's and now, in your own little way, you were honouring that.

"Keeping the town safe, isn't that my job?" Emma now joined in the inquisition, making your head spin slightly, "And you’re doing work for Gold?"

"Just as a favour, I patrol the woods at night, but I-" You stopped and took a deep breath, deciding that if they could just see how harmless your gun truly was then they'd give you a break. "I've never shot a person with it." You said, meekly as you carefully placed the gun down on the table.

"A silver gun?" You heard Ruby ask in an unusually quiet voice.

You were about to respond when Henry's cutlery clattered onto his plate, "You hunt werewolves? You're a Hunter? How didn't I see this before?" He asked incredulously, putting two and two together. "But-" He looked at Ruby but before he could continue you interrupted him in order to defend yourself.

"Woah, kid, no one said anything about werewolves." You shook your head, whilst having found out recently that that was in your blood, there were things that you couldn't bring yourself to do. Killing another human, in any form, was one of them. "I’d never- Look, Gold hired me to make sure that the wolves- that any animals don't create havoc or ruin his land o-or affect farmland." You clicked your gun back into its holster as it clearly wasn't being any use in calming anyone down. In fact, you were just getting more and more flustered as more questions were fired at you.

"Sure, that's what he told you." Henry got increasingly agitated, "You know you shouldn't kill anything. Don't you know who Ruby-" Emma quickly stood up and spoke over Henry.

"Okay, okay, enough chit-chat. Henry, let's get you to school." She gave him a look and left enough money to cover the food and drink on the table.

"But-"

"Henry, now." She clicked her fingers and Henry sighed in defeat before picking his bag up. He gave Ruby an apologetic look and just looked at you, contemplating what to say as he walked past. Whatever it was got interrupted by his mother as she practically pulled him out of the now empty Diner, "Faster, Henry."

You watched them leave in confusion before turning to Ruby, "Babe, I-"

"I don't want to talk right now." She turned away from you, clearing Emma and Henry's table. You frowned and reached out to your girlfriend's side, pulling her gently to you. She swatted you away and you swore she almost let out a small growl, "Y/N, just leave me alone!"

You shook your head, "I don't understand, I practically do the same job as Emma but just with animals rather than people. I found something I'm actually good at Ruby! Why can't you be happy for me, I-"

"Was your Mother a werewolf hunter? Back in the Enchanted Forest. Was she a Hunter?" She interrupted you, her voice increasing in volume before she slammed the plates down behind the counter. "Did she hunt animals?"

You hesitated before finally nodding, "Yes." You admitted and Ruby scoffed.

"So it's 'in your blood' to kill animals, is it? To kill-"

"No! I mean... yeah. But-"

"Then why do you need a gun, a silver gun? With silver bullets? Used to kill werewolves. Why do you need weapons if you don't kill?"

"Okay, well, on the odd occasion, I've had to-"

"Great!" She let out a loud sarcastic laugh and shook her head.

"But only when it's really necessary. And I told you I don't kill people! Okay? Whatever form they're in, I will not kill a person, okay? I'm not my mother, Ruby-"

She shook her head and clenched her teeth, "It turns out there is still a lot I don't know about you Y/N." She whispered, looking you dead in the eye as she spoke.

"No, that's not fair. There are things about you that I don't know too. There are still things about everyone I thought I knew that I don't know because of this stupid curse but we're working it out!" You reasoned, willing yourself not to think the worse about this situation. There was a horrible silence as you waited for her to say something. Anything. And when she finally did, it wasn't what you had expected at all.

"I don't think I feel safe around you, Y/N." She backed away from you ever so slightly and refused to look you in the eye. For the first time you've known Ruby, she genuinely looked frightened. Of you.

Your stomach dropped at her confession and you shut your eyes for a few moments and took a second to breath. "If this is about the gun then I only have it to protect you, Ruby. It's to protect everyone. I love you. I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. I just want to protect you."

"From what?"

You clenched your fists and slammed a hand on the counter, tired from repeating the same thing. If Ruby had been wanting your answer to change each time to something she would rather hear then she was out of luck, "From rabid animals." You cried out, getting angry at such a stupid fight over such a tiny thing.

"What? Animals like me, you mean?" She asked, contrasting your loud anger with a quiet fear. Whilst her eyes looked terrified she attempted to make herself look brave and confrontational by jutting her chin up slightly and staring you down but you knew her too well.

The anger inside of you quickly dissipated and you slowly approached her, treating her like one would a spooked horse or a trapped rabbit. "What do you mean by that?"

"Y-You said that there were things you don't know about me and that's true." You watched as she began to crumble, her eyes starting to become tearful. "I'm a werewolf. Your kind hunt me and my kind." She finally croaked out.

You both stood and stared at each other over the counter for a few minutes, not quite knowing what to do. There was a part of you that couldn't believe you didn't know, that she hadn't told you. A whole other part started to recognise the little signs that you had slowly picked up on but stubbornly ignored.

The tiny bell at the top of the door to Granny's rung, knocking you out of your thoughts and back into reality. Now that the diner was no longer empty you couldn't stay there any longer. You need an explanation but it couldn't be done there and besides, there was something more important you had to do first, "I have to go." You finally spoke up, not quite daring to look into Ruby's tear soaked eyes and instead keeping your head down and walking out the door.

Driving around for hours to clear your head eventually led you to the Sheriff's department, knowing Emma would be there by now. You ran in, throwing your gun on the table and crossing your arms as you stared down at the blonde woman. "How long did you know who my girlfriend was?"

Emma sighed and grimaced slightly, "She told you?"

"Mhmm." You flopped down in the chair opposite Emma and started chewing your lip. There was a long pause between the two of you, seeing as you were completely absorbed with your own thoughts.

Emma took a deep breath, eventually choosing to cut off the silence, "What are you going to do?" You shook your head slightly.

"I was born to be a Hunter, Emma." You noticed her raise an eyebrow slightly and so you hastened to add, "But I love Ruby. So much." You'd never do anything to hurt her, that much you knew.

"You're going to return the gun to Gold?"

"No." You shrugged, "I'll lock it up someone safe, I suppose. So no one can make use of it."

Emma put her hand on your shoulder and smiled fondly, "You made the right decision."

You sat in silence for a bit, Emma leafing through some paperwork as you tried to get your brain to absorb everything that had happened in the last few hours, "I won't miss the long nights, that's for sure." You eventually said, only just realising you were technically now out of a job. "Anyway, I should go. Thanks Em, for helping me figure out what's right."

Just before you made your way out of the door, Emma stopped you in your tracks by shouting after you, "Hey, Y/N, if you need a job we might just have an opening here for you. Can't guarantee you'll never work a night shift again, but you can keep on protecting Ruby and the town. You can just do it a bit more legally." You slowly turned back to your friend and smiled, shooting her a quick nod.

"You're on, Swan."

----------------------

It was gone noon once you were finished at the police station and you knew Ruby would have finished her shift by now so you swung by your shared apartment, hoping that she would be there.

You were torn between knocking and just walking straight in but ultimately chose the latter option, scared that if you were to knock then she wouldn't answer to you.

"Ruby?"

"I don't want to talk to you." A voice drifted from your left. You hesitantly licked your lips and followed her voice.

"Ruby-" You turned the corner to see her curled up on the sofa beneath a heavy red blanket.

She shook her head and you knew well enough to stop talking. "I just... I cannot believe you'd do this! That you would do something so stupid and so--" 

"I quit." You shrugged and took a step closer to your girlfriend.

"What?" She asked, head turning to the side slightly. You clenched your jaw at the pain you had caused within her.

You paused, formulating what you wanted to say before plunging into it. "I'm not a hunter anymore. I quit. I want nothing but to keep you safe and if you don't feel that way with me then I'll change."

Ruby stood up and shook her head, "I don't understand."

"I'd do anything for you. I love you." You finally wrapped your arms around Ruby's waist and pulled her into you, hovering your lips close to hers, "I'm sorry."

The smile on her face grew as she gazed into your eyes and her hands hovered over your hips. She begun to place a trail of kisses from your jaw down your neck. Ready to take it further, you pushed her slightly towards the sofa and tugged slightly at her red shorts. However, before you had the chance, Ruby pulled away and took a deep breath.

"What?" You asked, fearing you had done something wrong.

"What are you going to do now?" She asked, and you could still sense a dash of emotion reappearing from earlier. You pushed to do anything to clear her doubt about you.

You hooked your fingers in the belt loop holes of her shorts and winked, "What do you think about me in uniform?"

Ruby bit her lip and smirked, pushing you down on the sofa, "I think I could get used to the idea."

[divergentmisfit-fandomsblog]

“It was always Emma comes to town as savior & meets Mayor Regina” - And the evidence is present throughout, but it was also present in the pilot episode! The story was supposed to be that Regina’s happy ending was Emma and Henry.

Another example of this technique in storytelling, just off the top of my head, is the Netflix series Wednesday. When Wednesday and Fester talk about The Hyde, Wednesday concludes that she’s looking for two killers, the Monster and its Master. Then in the very next moment Miss Thornhill walks in - the clue as to who the master of The Hyde was walked right through the door.

As Lucy lawless says in that GIF, “What needs to be censored can be put in subtext”. I believe that’s what happened with OUAT’s storytelling and SwanQueen.

[anonymous-dentist]

Yes! Please talk about your aus

I miss blorbos being alright

I'll take this opportunity to talk about ouat au spiderbit because okay

So the way to break the curse is True Love's Kiss, which is why Osito Bimbo aka the Evil King sent Cellbit so far away. Such a powerful curse couldn't not be broken, so it just chose something really legitimately hard to accomplish (because everyone has a true love, but finding your One True Love is harder than you'd think.) The curse was actually cast during Cellbit and Roier's wedding in the Enchanted Forest to ensure that only Osito would get a Happily Ever After, and the last thing each of them saw was the other. And then they lost their memories of each other and were split apart, yeah. Everyone but Cellbit gets sent to Quesadilla City to live in ignorant human bliss for 28 years, and Cellbit ends up spawning in prison somewhere already with a body count on his hands that he's all-too-willing to add to.

But they find each other again in the Real World, and it's their first kiss that breaks the curse. It's super shy and awkward and neither really knows what they're doing at all, but they slowly grow more comfortable with it as their memories start to come back. It's muscle memory first, and then physical memories from the Enchanted Forest, and, well. See for yourself:

There's magic in the air, Cellbit can feel it. He doesn't know how he can feel it, but he does, and he's halfway convinced that he's just imagining it because, really, maybe Roier is magic. His lips are bitten and chapped, and they taste faintly of cherry cough syrup, but Cellbit doesn't think he's ever understood the word 'enchanted' until this very moment. Their noses bump, and Cellbit bites back a nervous giggle. "Stop laughing," Roier grumbles. He snaps his teeth at Cellbit's face annoyedly. "Finish kissing me, culero." "As you wish," Cellbit replies, and then he does so. Their lips connect once more, and this time the world explodes around them. Cellbit is almost jerked away with the force of it, wind tearing through his hair and pulling on the back of his coat. But Roier pulls right back, greedy and sweetly selfish. One hand finds its way into Cellbit's hair and the other lands on Cellbit's back, possessive. Cute. Somewhere, Richarlyson starts cheering. Osito Bimbo screams in outrage. The wind whips furiously, drowning out all noise but the faint beating of Cellbit's heart; he closes his eyes from the force of it, instead focusing all his energy on staying close to Roier. His skin tingles in the same way glitter shines. There are sparkles at his fingertips, but all he can think of is how much he missed this, and- Cellbit gasps, coming up for air for the first time. He opens his eyes to look at his One True Love for the first time in 28 cursed goddamn years, and his eyes meet Roier's- awestruck and angry. "I-" he starts, already turning to presumably strangle Osito Bimbo with his bare hands, but Cellbit rolls his eyes and pulls him back into another kiss, and then another, and then another and another and another and another as the world around them bursts with sudden returned magic. Roier melts into him. (He always was weak to kisses, Cellbit thinks he remembers.) "Marry me," he murmurs, breath hot against Cellbit's lips. "For real this time." "Get me a ring and ask again," Cellbit responds. He laughs as Roier pulls back and smacks his chest hard right above the heart. He lets Roier keep hitting him until he manages to grab Roier's wrist and hold it, leaning in for yet another kiss. (He missed him, okay?) The wind stops, finally. The magic settles, and Cellbit finally remembers the true story of Puss-in-Boots just as his magic hits him hard enough to send him flying out of Roier's arms and into a furry ball of fluff at his feet. Roier cackles and crouches to pick him up, cooing and pressing a lighthearted kiss between his ears. "There's my gatinho," he smiles. Cellbit glares. Not his fault he spent too long in human form. Asshole. Any and all anger fades as Roier's eyelids flicker and as his legs stagger. He has just enough time to jump out of Roier's arms before Roier crashes to the ground, peacefully asleep. Sleeping Guapito. The rest of the city comes stumbling out of their homes and businesses, and they all turn to Osito Bimbo- still frozen in the street- in fury. Cellbit hops onto Roier's chest and curls into a ball, purring as Roier unconsciously raises a hand to lay on Cellbit's side. This is fine. He'll let the townsfolk get their revenge first. He and Roier can have their fun later.

[jrob64]

Long Overdue Conversations - Part 4 (Emma & Killian) A OUAT missing scene

Here is another conversation I feel should have taken place in Once Upon a Time. This one occurs immediately after the 'You traded your ship for me' scene at the end of season 3.

THIS PART IS RATED M!

Previous installments can be found on Tumblr: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

All parts can also be found on Ao3 & FFN

Special thanks to @hookedmom who always makes my stories better with her beta skills and suggestions for making this scene better (and hotter!)

*********

“You traded your ship for me?” Emma asked, amazement evident in her voice.

Killian gave a slight nod. “Aye.”

Then she was kissing him. Not a bruising and frantic kiss like the one in Neverland, but a tender, passionate one that took his breath away all the same. At one point, he had to draw back to look at her, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. When she smiled at him and rested her forehead against his, he caressed her cheek, running her silky hair through his fingers, before capturing her willing lips once again.

Their moment was interrupted when Leroy and one of his brothers came bursting through the door of Granny’s, drunkenly singing. It was all Killian could do to keep himself from throttling the dwarfs, but Emma simply squeezed his hand and gave him a soft smile.

“If you don’t have your ship anymore, where are you staying?” she asked.

“The widow Lucas granted me a room at her bed and breakfast.”

“Hmm…” Emma hummed in thought.

Killian tilted his head, waiting for her to continue. After a moment of silence, he asked, “What’s on your mind, Swan?”

Leaning in, she brushed her lips across his cheek. “Give me a minute to say goodbye to my family. I’ll be right back.”

He watched her rise from her seat and ascend the steps into the diner. Before disappearing inside, she turned and smiled at him reassuringly.

While he waited, he touched his fingers to his lips, just as he had after their first kiss. He loved the feeling of Emma Swan’s lips on his and wanted it to linger. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to wait nearly as long to feel them again.

Sooner than he expected, Emma was back out the door. When she reached him, she took him by the hand, encouraging him to get to his feet. “Come on, pirate.”

“Where are we going, Love?”

She gave him a secretive smile. “To your room.”

In a near state of shock, he followed behind her as she led the way, still gripping his hand tightly. When they entered the lobby, Emma asked, “What’s your room number?”

“Um…four,” he stammered.

“Seriously? That’s the room I had when I first came to town.”

“Aye, the widow Lucas did mention that fact when she gave me the key.”

He trailed closely behind her up the stairs, his hand on the small of her back. He was hesitant to break physical contact with her, for fear she would suddenly disappear. It was Storybrooke, after all.

When they reached his door, he fumbled for the key. Finally withdrawing it from the inside pocket of his leather duster, it slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor.

Emma bent down and picked it up, smirking as she held it between her fingers. “Nervous, Captain?” she asked, before inserting it into the lock and turning it. The door swung open and they quickly crossed the threshold.

“I’m still trying to determine if this is indeed real, or simply my imagination,” he said. He closed the door and leaned back against it, gripping his belt buckle as he looked up at her through his dark lashes.

“Have you imagined this?” she asked, batting her own lashes at him.

He poked his tongue into his cheek, then ran it over his bottom teeth before answering. “Perhaps.”

Stepping closer, she leaned up to whisper in his ear. “Move away from the door.”

Quirking a curious brow at her, he did as instructed. She held her hands up with her palms flat and facing the door. Closing her eyes, she concentrated until a soft glow emanated from them. Then she moved them slowly to trace around the entire frame of the door.

When she finished, she dropped her hands and turned to face him. Seeing the slight confusion on his face, she explained, “Silencing spell. Granny has supernatural hearing, remember?”

“You’re bloody brilliant, Swan.” He closed the distance between them, reaching up to sift her blonde locks through his fingers, his deep blue eyes boring into hers. “Now that we’re alone…”

Emma shrugged out of her leather jacket and let it drop to the floor, then ran her hands up the front of his vest and under the shoulders of his heavy, leather coat. Understanding her intention, he pulled his arms free when she pushed it off of him.

“Just how much does that thing weigh?” she asked. “And how the hell do you wear it around all the time?”

He grinned at her. “Is that really what you want to think about right now, Love?”

“You have a point. Besides,” she said mischievously, “I’m sure you’ve carried rum barrels heavier than that, right?”

His brows furrowed. “Come again?”

“Just something your former self said when he was carrying me onto his…your…ship.”

“Bloody wanker,” he grumbled. “I should have hit him harder.”

She began undoing the fasteners on his vest. “Is that really what you want to think about right now?” she asked, echoing his words.

“Too right, Love.”

Once the vest joined his coat on the floor, he removed his hook and placed it on the dresser. Then Emma slid his suspenders off his shoulders and started working on the tiny buttons of his billowy, black shirt. “How do you manage these things with one hand? I can’t unbutton them with two.”

“I don’t mess with the buttons. I simply slide it on over my head.”

“That explains why it’s always open practically to your waist.”

“You’ve noticed that, have you?” he asked with a knowing smirk.

“Kinda hard to miss it, with your whole chest on display.” Lifting her eyes to meet his, she abandoned the buttons and slowly ran her fingers through the hair on his chest that had been teasing her ever since she met him in the Enchanted Forest. Hearing him gasp at the contact, she added, “I’ve been wanting to do this for a very long time.”

As her fingertips continued to explore, he dipped his head to capture her lips, his own calloused fingers finding their way under the hem of her turtleneck. He caressed the soft skin he found there, and she moaned into the kiss, “Killian…”

The breathy sound of his name from her sweet lips had him growing hard in an instant. “Swan,” he mumbled, “are you…are you quite sure about this, Love?”

She pulled back to look at him, her pupils dilated with desire. “I told my parents I wouldn’t be home tonight, brought you up to your room, and used magic to make sure no one would hear us. Does that sound like someone who isn’t sure?”

“You told your parents you were going to be with me tonight?”

“Yes. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about them anymore.”

“Agreed,” he chuckled. “Where were we?”

“Right about here,” she said, crossing her arms to grab the bottom of her sweater, then pulling it over her head.

Killian could feel his heartbeat increase as his eyes roamed over her newly bared skin. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t longed for this scenario, but never could he have imagined the absolute perfection of Emma Swan.

“Your turn,” she said, grasping the hem of his shirt to tug it over his head. He tried to stand still as her hands explored the expanse of his chest, moved over his shoulders and down his arms.

He was so busy enjoying her touch and taking in her beautiful form, he had forgotten about his battered, leather brace. When her fingers found it, he involuntarily took a step backwards, pulling his arm away from her.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she said soothingly. “It doesn’t bother me.”

His hand rubbed absentmindedly over the brace. “It…it’s ugly, Swan. It’s been a very long time since I’ve allowed anyone to see it.”

“You don’t have to hide it from me, Killian. It’s part of you and I…well, nothing about you could make me…care for you any less.”

Slowly, he stepped back into her space, his eyes never leaving hers. With practiced fingers, he deftly undid the buckles. After hesitating a few moments, he grasped the brace and twisted it off of his arm. Emma took it from him and laid it on the dresser beside his hook, as he removed the protective cloth covering his stump.

She locked eyes with him again, before dropping her gaze to his arm. Placing one hand under his elbow, she lifted it up while the fingers of her other hand gently traced the raised, jagged scars. “It must have been so painful,” she said quietly.

He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching at the memory. “I…I don’t remember feeling pain when he…when he cut it off. I’d just witnessed him murder Milah and that pain overshadowed everything else. It wasn’t until later, when a crew member cauterized it, that I finally realized how much it hurt. By that time, my grief and anger had taken over and all I wanted to focus on was plotting my revenge.”

Emma bent to press a kiss to the end of his wrist. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Killian.”

“It’s long in the past, Love. I would much rather look toward the future.” Using his finger to lift her chin, he gave her a smile. Then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. “A future that includes you, I hope.”

In answer, she fused her lips to his, her hands beginning to roam freely over his body. When she slid her hands down inside the back of his trousers and squeezed his ass, he sucked in a ragged breath. “Bloody hell, Swan,” he growled.

“What’s the matter, Captain? Can’t you handle it?”

Before she could utter another word, he skillfully flicked open the button on her jeans and unzipped them. “Let’s see who can’t handle it, shall we?” Then his hand was inside her panties, cupping her mound.

  Her surprised gasp turned to a moan of pleasure as his long fingers slid through her slick folds. “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already this wet?” he asked, his voice low and husky in her ear.

“I…I’ve wanted this ever since…” She stopped talking and bit her lip.

“Since when, Swan?” he queried.

“Since…Neverland,” she admitted.

Hearing her finally confess her feelings made his own surge through him in a hot rush. He withdrew his hand and lifted her off the floor. Carrying her across the room, he deposited her on the bed. “Take off your boots,” he commanded, beginning to toe off his own.

She happily complied, then began pushing her jeans down her legs. When they reached her knees, she looked up and felt like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

Killian was standing in front of her, arms crossed over his chest, dressed in nothing but his leather pants. They were straining against the huge bulge that was right at her eye level. Without conscious thought, her hands reached for him, rubbing his rigid member through the leather.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, exhaling the words, “I’ve wanted this for a very long time, too, Emma.”

“Then let’s not wait any longer.”

Her fingers set to work unfastening his pants to free his cock, which she promptly began to stroke. At the same time, he reached behind her and worked at the hooks of her bra. When they were undone, his hand and wrist tugged on the straps and her hands left his shaft long enough to wiggle out of it.

While she resumed her exploration of his sizable cock, he fondled her breasts - squeezing, pinching, rubbing and caressing them, murmuring words of praise for their perfection.

Killian suddenly realized how quickly they were working each other up, and put his hand over Emma’s to stop her stroking. “Can we…can we slow down just a bit, Love? I don’t want this to be over too soon.”

“Yeah, okay,” she said breathlessly. “Why don’t we finish getting undressed?”

“Aye,” he agreed.

Both of them removed their remaining clothes and as Emma laid down in the middle of the bed, she pulled Killian down beside her. He pushed himself up to lean on his left elbow, his fingers dancing along the skin of her belly. “Gods, Love. I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman than you. You’re absolutely stunning.”

Her hand moved up his forearm and bicep, tracing the hard muscles. “So are you, Killian.”

They explored each other’s body with their hands and mouths, whispered words spoken against skin, between kisses, licks and nips. When Killian’s fingers found their way once again to Emma’s most intimate place, she bucked into his hand, clearly craving more.

He nudged her legs further apart with his knee, then slowly slid one finger into her warm, wet channel. “Tell me how that feels, Love,” he implored.

“Feels…amazing,” she complied, her eyes closing of their own accord and her breath coming out in short gasps.

After gliding in and out of her a few times, he pulled his eyes away from the sight to look up at her. “Are you ready for more?”

She nodded her head, biting her lip in anticipation.

On the next pass, he added a second digit. “So bloody perfect, taking me like that, Swan.”

“Killian, I’m going to…you’re going to make me…” she muttered, trying to speak a coherent sentence.

“Don’t hold back. Just let it happen and enjoy it, Love.”

She took his advice and soon she was clenching tightly around his fingers, the evidence of her orgasm further slickening his fingers. As she throbbed around them, he sought friction by rubbing his hard erection against her thigh, then sucked one of her nipples into his mouth.

“Killiannn…” she moaned throatily.

He withdrew his fingers and chuckled lowly against her breast over her huff of annoyance. “Patience, Love. I have something much more…fulfilling…for that greedy quim.”

Instantly, she shifted onto her side and reached down to grasp his cock. “I’m ready when you are,” she breathed hotly into his ear.

With a growl, he flipped her onto her back, causing her to let out a little yelp of surprise. Then he swung himself over her body, hovering over her. Nuzzling into her neck, he murmured, “I don’t know if you noticed, but I was quite taken with that dress we pilfered during our adventure.”

“You mean the one…that made me look like…a bar wench?” she gasped, enjoying what his mouth was doing to her collarbone.

“Mmm, aye,” he hummed. “It certainly made you quite…distracting. And very enticing. I wanted to bury my face right here.” He licked up between her breasts, chuckling again when she uttered a curse.

Emma’s hands slid between them and wrapped around his girth. Widening her legs, she dragged the tip through her soaked folds. At his groan, she whispered, “You did promise to fulfill me, so fill me, Captain.”

He lifted his head to look into her face, giving her a grin. “As you wish.”

Her hand guided him to where she was aching for him and he slowly pushed into her, inch by glorious inch. Her legs wrapped around his hips, hands moving to scratch along his back, which added to the pleasure he was already experiencing from being buried inside the woman for whom he’d been yearning for months. He dropped his head to her chest, giving her a moment to adjust to him, while getting himself under control so he wouldn’t be on the verge too soon.

When he finally began to move, it was at a slow, steady pace. Experimenting with different angles, he took note of what brought the most response from her.

After several blissful minutes, she murmured, “Killian…”

“Yes, Love?”

“Make me see stars,” she requested breathlessly, reaching behind him to squeeze his buttocks almost painfully.

He kissed her and grinned slyly, determined to meet her challenge. Dropping to his elbows on either side of her, he began thrusting faster and deeper, until he was plunging into her with abandon, eliciting a loud exclamation from her each time he filled her.

He was getting close to his peak, but didn’t want to reach it before she did, so he caught her nipple in his mouth again, alternating flicking it with his tongue and sucking hard. His actions had the desired effect and soon she was screaming through her release, her head thrashing on the pillow, while her throbbing cunt rippled along his engorged cock.

“Bloody…fucking…hell,” he grunted, thrusting eratically, until he exploded, filling her with streams of his hot release. Not wanting to crush her, he rolled them over, sprawling her sweat-slicked body over his own.

Neither knew how long they laid there, trying to get their breathing and heart rates under control. He heard her mumble something into his chest, but couldn’t make out the words. Raising his leaden arm, he brushed her hair away from her face. “What did you say, Love?”

She lifted her face to peer into his. “You did it.”

“Did what?” he asked, thoroughly puzzled.

  “Made me see stars…and several planets.”

He laughed, then pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “I’m glad to hear it, because you definitely did the same for me.”

“Good thing I soundproofed the room, huh?”

“Aye, Love. I don’t think I would be able to meet Granny’s eyes tomorrow morning if you hadn’t.”

It was her turn to laugh. As they lay in silence, she skimmed her fingers through the hair on his chest, enjoying the sighs of pleasure from him.

After several peaceful minutes, Emma said, “Killian?”

“Hmm?”

“I would have chosen you.”

He opened his eyes to see her looking at him earnestly. “Chosen me for what?”

“Remember back in Neverland when you told me I would have to choose between you and Neal?”

“Aye.”

“Even if Neal hadn’t…died, I still would have chosen you.”

He lifted his head from the pillow to peer at her more closely. “Truly?”

“Yeah. Well, to be honest, it wasn’t ever a contest between the two of you.” She watched him studying her closely, before adding, “Is that difficult for you to believe?”

“I saw how much his death impacted you and thought perhaps, given the chance, the two of you might have rekindled your relationship.”

“We actually had a really nice conversation just before I realized he was sharing a body with his father, and I felt like we were in a good place with each other at the end. Neal will always be my first love and Henry’s father, so he has a special spot in my heart; but…after what he did to me, I would have never been able to completely trust him. You, on the other hand, have never given me any reason not to trust you. You’ve proven time and time again that you’re in my corner, that you believe in me…”

“Of course I do, Emma. You’re the most determined and assiduous woman I’ve ever met. I trust you with my life…and my heart.”

She tilted her head and smiled softly. “I trust you with mine, too. I think you know me well enough to know I didn’t come to that decision lightly.”

He reached up to twist a lock of her hair around his finger. “Aye, that I do. I feel incredibly honored to hold your trust, Love, especially when not so very long ago, you chained me at the top of a beanstalk because you didn’t trust me.”

“That’s not why I chained you there.”

“No?” he questioned.

She shook her head. “If you recall, I told you I couldn’t take the chance of being wrong about you. Even then, I sensed I could trust you, and that scared the shit out of me.”

“That’s because you thought I was nothing but a pirate, as did the rest of your family. Your father used those exact words in Neverland.”

“Yeah, well, you proved us all wrong.” She cupped his face in the palm of her hand. “You’re a good man, Killian Jones.”

He smiled. “During our adventure back in the Enchanted Forest, when Dave didn’t know who I was, he told me your parents would be crazy not to approve of me as your suitor. I told him I hoped he would remember that.”

“He’s coming around. Give him time and you’ll probably end up being his best friend.”

He wrapped his arms around her more tightly, taking advantage of having her naked form pressed against him. She laid her head on his chest, humming happily.

Later, when they were cleaned up and she was asleep in his arms, wearing nothing but one of his thin black shirts, their conversation ran through his mind again. When Neal died, he saw how grief-stricken Emma was, and assumed she would have chosen the other man, had he lived. He was Henry’s father, after all, and Killian thought that connection between Emma and Neal would be enough for her to try to make their relationship work.

Hearing her say she would have chosen Killian made him happier than he had been for centuries. He fell asleep with his nose buried in her hair and a smile on his face. Tomorrow, they would probably face some sort of crisis, but tonight, Emma Swan was his and hopefully would remain his for the long haul.

*********

I hope you agree that this is a scene we all needed!

TAG LIST:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4 @hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @zaharadessert @lyssapup27 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90 @apiratewhopines

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: “Just As Much As I Do”

Notes: This is another little one shot I originally wrote in the summer after Season 3 of OuaT.  Post Season 3 finale, this one is meant to be the very next day, waking up back in the present, the Wicked Witch defeated,and Pirate and Princess maybe - just maybe - stealing a quiet moment or two in the afterglow. Rated T, though the reasons for that are only implied. Title and song lyrics included are from Snow Patrol's "Crack the Shutters", and of course I don't own that lovely song any more than I do OuaT or its characters. Enjoy – and please leave a review!

Also available on AO3 or ff.net, if that’s more your preference

Summary: The morning after the finale, waking up in his room at Granny's, for Killian Jones, it seems like his wildest dreams have come true magnificently.

“Just As Much As I Do” 

by: @snowbellewells 

Sunlight pours in through sheer white curtains, bathing the small room in golden glow and warming the darkness into hazy morning. As the sun's rays fall across the tangled sheets on the bed and heat the bare skin of a pirate, Killian Jones' eyes ease open, blinking in the sunrise and slowly regaining his bearings.

He rubs a hand over his face and back through his tufted, disheveled hair, confused and disoriented for a moment, not sure how he is once again in his familiar room at Granny's when yesterday he was sitting at a campfire in the Enchanted Forest of his past. Memory filters back to him with the same sort of gilded pleasure as the morning light. 'Emma,' his mind whispers, 'I brought her home.'

Turning from where he sits up in bed, bare to the waist as the sheets pool at his hips, he sees her lying beside him drenched in the wash of gold through the window, that cascade of blond hair lit up as if on fire. She is still fast asleep, splayed out luxuriously on her stomach, pale, flawless back on display for his perusal. As Killian gazes on her, admiration swirling within him, Emma mumbles drowsily and smiles without conscious thought, looking so much more peaceful and satisfied than he believes he has ever seen her while awake. She scoots closer to him, seeking contact in the depths of her slumber.

He reaches out to brush a lock of hair off her shoulder, smoothing it down her back with its fellows and letting his fingertips trail along the graceful path of her spine. That he can touch her at last, after so long – after so much wanting and denial – seems almost a dream. Killian's breath catches for a moment as he wonders whether he is awake at all.

Smiling to himself, he cannot help snuggling back into the mattress, studying every relaxed, glorious inch of Emma Swan while she is still unaware, knowing she would be blushing and trying to hide from such frank adoration, ducking her head self-consciously to avoid his gaze, if she were awake. Somehow he has earned his place beside his golden goddess – and no one or nothing, not even the sun itself gilding her in splendor before his very eyes, can worship her as much as he does.

Crack the shutters, open wide

I wanna bathe you in the light of day

And just watch you as the rays

tangle up around your face and body

I could sit for hours

finding new ways to be awed each minute

'Cause the daylight seems to want you

just as much as I do

The peaceful quiet of morning's first light is broken before he wishes as Emma's cell phone rings from the nightstand of his rented room and stirs her from her slumber. Her hand shoots out blindly to snag the offending object, and she mumbles "Hello?" blearily.

Emma sits up as she listens to the voice on the other end, bringing the sheet to wrap around her body as she does. Killian can tell already that it is someone needing something from either the Sheriff or the Savior, but she doesn't seem to mind the duty settling back onto her shoulders as she has in the past. Instead, she seems pleased, as if she finally knows that this is not a curse or a burden so much as her calling, part of belonging to people and a place of her own at last. She glances at him over her shoulder, a sly smile on her lips and a sparkle in her eyes; even as she nods and goes back to assuring the person on the line that she will be right there.

Once she has hung up, she glances at him sheepishly. "Back to work," she says with a shrug and that quirk of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

"Aye, Darling, so it would seem," he replies, reaching out to run his fingers through her hair and pull her in for a quick kiss.

To his surprise, she nuzzles into his touch, eyes closing for a few precious moments, savoring the warm expanding feeling rising in her chest. He half expected her to pull away – push him back and shut him out once again – when she woke this morning. It would seem instead that his Swan has bested him one more time, and his devotion to her only grows.

"No rest for the wicked, as they say," she murmurs affectionately, pulling back with reluctance to stand and begin redressing in the clothes they had shed in such haste the night before.

"And just which one of us are you calling wicked, Lass?" he questions, brow arching and grinning at her in a way that he hopes will sorely try her resolve not to crawl back across the bed and let the dwarves deal with their stolen trash bins on their own.

"Oh, I meant both of us," she teases back, mischief in her expression, "but those lips and that hand of yours leave no doubt where you're concerned."

He laughs, taken so by surprise that he tips his head back with it, a full-bodied, strong chortle. "Oi, Swan, what would you have had me do, you vixen? You were practically begging me!"

She actually giggles, looking so happy and completely pleased with herself that he wishes to keep that expression on her face forever. The flush that colors her cheeks and spreads down her neck to disappear in her shirt is so fetching that Killian is hard pressed not to haul her back into his arms and refuse to let her go.

"Shall I accompany you, Swan?" he offers, moving to get up as well and already scanning for where she had flung his shirt and vest.

"No, you stay put," she says with a hungry glint in her eye. "Go downstairs and have breakfast or something. It shouldn't be long before I can get back here."

"Oh," he smirks, looking terribly proud of himself, "I see. Am I under house arrest because you cannot get your fill of me, Sheriff?"

"More or less," she grins evilly.

"Insatiable minx," he returns, tongue peeking out to brush across his lower lip in a way that sends sparks along her veins and graphic images flashing behind her eyes.

"You've got no one but yourself to blame, Pirate," she throws out, giving him one last playful look before she slips out the door. Inside, her heart is swelling while she marvels at the absence of panic, at the fact that she truly wants to stay in the perfect little cocoon the two of them have created, and yearns to be back with him as soon as possible.

It's been minutes, it's been days

It's been all I will remember

Happy lost in your hair

and the cool side of the pillow

Your hills and valleys

are mapped by my intrepid fingers

And in a naked slumber

I dream all this again…

The next morning dawns in much the same way, and Killian's eyes crack open with the sunrise once more; years ever-alert from life on the high sea never failing to pull him into early wakefulness. He is stunned all over again by his good fortune: Emma is with him still. This time, instead of a sprawl, she is curled up into his chest, head tucked under his chin.

Still reverent as he touches her, almost afraid to shatter the illusion, he lets his fingers ghost over the apples of her cheeks, along the line of her nose, and twine themselves in her hair, cradling the back of her head, his handless arm tucking her even more securely into the shelter of his body, stump gently caressing her lower back. Her sleep seems calm and dreamless, which she had confided in him is new and rare, and Killian dares to believe that he has helped to make it possible. Her presence is soothing to him as well, banishing haunted nightmares he never thought to lose. There are no creases of worry marring her forehead, and the tiniest smile rests on her senseless lips, tilting them upwards in a captivating, if unknowing, manner.

Killian places the softest of kisses to her smooth brow, loving her just as he has ever since she stared deep into his soul in the diner when Storybrooke faced oblivion and offered him a second chance – a way to belong to something, to someone…to her. He had seen it then, desired it so ardently that it has fueled every action he has taken since. The intensity of this love, now that Emma recognizes and even welcomes the power she holds over him, and is even trying to give herself to him in return, is overwhelming in its power.

He simply rests here, ignoring the sun's rays spreading across the covers and attempting to rouse him from the most peaceful moment he has ever known. He has traveled a dark, harrowing road to reach this place and moment in time, searched lifetimes for the feeling of completeness in someone who loves him, who will fight for him as fiercely as he fights for her. He can see the warm wash of light over Emma's skin and appreciation for her steals his breath anew. A vision forms of each new day beginning like this one: the pattern of their future together.

Allowing his eyes to drift closed, Killian gladly disregards the dawning day for staying beside his love a little longer. He does not need the sun's help to adore the sight of Emma in his arms; she is branded on the back of his eyelids and in the depths of his soul, every detail of her safeguarded in his heart.

I could sit for hours

finding new ways to be awed each minute

'Cause the daylight seems to want you

just as much as I want you…

Tagging a few who might enjoy:  @jennjenn615​ @kmomof4​ @searchingwardrobes​ @jrob64​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @laschatzi​ @apiratewhopines​ @spartanguard​ @therooksshiningknight​ @tiganasummertree​ @optomisticgirl​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @xarandomdreamx​ @cosette141​ @stahlop​ @sotangledupinit​ @elizabeethan​ @donteattheappleshook​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @gingerchangeling​ @gingerpolyglot​ @xsajx​ @teamhook​ @revanmeetra87​ @winterbaby89​ @hollyethecurious​ @thislassishooked​ @drowned-dreamer​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @zaharadessert​ @caught-in-the-filter​ @ineffablecolors​ @let-it-raines​ 

[kazoosandfannypacks]

Every Crappy Morning by kazoosandfannypacks

Pairing: Captain Swan Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 1K words Summary: When Emma and Killian find themselves running late for Regina's coronation, Emma's surprised by her husband's calm demeanor. Author’s notes: This one's a bit of a missing moment from the season 7 finale. I hope you like it! Taglist: @zahara @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @booksteaandtoomuchtv @jrob64 @tiganasummertree @anmylica @teamhook @undercaffinatednightmare @gingerchangeling @lonelyspectator @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @cs-rylie @silver-the-phoenix @pawshapedheart  [if you’d like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

Also on Ao3!

 This morning wasn't quite going like Emma had planned. She'd planned on getting herself and her family up early, getting to Regina's coronation early to greet the guests in attendance- give them a chance to dote on the new royal baby before the ceremony started.

 But the problem with schedules and plans is that newborns rarely stick to them. Sometimes they end up keeping you and your husband up until three in the morning, giving you a late- and groggy- start to your morning.

 And as soon as they did get up that morning, later than they would've liked, they got changed and had a quick breakfast.

 "I think we can at least make it in time for the coronation," Emma said, picking up her daughter, "not as early as I'd've liked, but I'm sure they'll understand."

 "Aye," Killian said, putting an arm around Emma, "how's our little princess doing?"

 Before Emma could answer, Hope volunteered a response of her own. Unfortunately, Hope's response was to spit up all over herself and her mother.

 "Great," Emma thought, swearing under her breath as she looked at the stain on her dress- a dress her mom had made a huge deal about, one that they'd spent three afternoons with a seamstress making sure was perfect for the coronation, one that was now ruined.

 "Regina didn't happen to teach you a 'vomit stain removal spell,' love, did she?" Killian asked, taking Hope from her arms.

 "No," Emma snapped, a little annoyed with her husband's attempt at humor, "I've gotta change."

 "I'll get her cleaned up," Killian said.

 "Alright," Emma sighed.

 She ran upstairs to change, racking her brain to figure out what dresses she had that she could wear for a coronation. Mary Margaret had said she could dress however she wanted, that it was an event to celebrate the United Realms, and the real world was one of those realms. But Emma knew how important it was to her family that she at least try to dress the part- and deep down, she enjoyed the ballgowns, at least a little.

 Begrudgingly, she pulled a dress out of the closet. Unlike the former dress, it wasn't the latest in style in the Enchanted Forest- it had been years since it was in style in this realm- but it was better than nothing, and at the very least, this one was pink and shiny. She quickly changed, then looked in the mirror, still thinking she was missing something.

 Emma noticed her red leather jacket, hanging on the back of a chair. She threw it on over the dress, half jokingly, and looked again in the mirror- and though it didn't quite go with it, with the way her morning had been going, she felt a little more comfortable once she'd slid her arms into her familiar armor's sleeves.

 "This'll have to do," Emma thought, "we're late enough as is."

 She grabbed her phone on the way out the door and sent her mom a quick text, explaining that they were running late but were on the way.

 When she got downstairs, she found Killian, having cleaned up Hope and wrapped her in a fresh blanket, now rocking her gently and humming a lullaby.

 "Ready to go, love?" Killian asked, looking up at Emma and smiling.

 "I think so." Emma said, "how do I look?"

 "Beautiful as ever, Swan" Killian smiled, as if the mere opportunity to compliment Emma was a delight to him.

 "Then let's get going," Emma said, "we're already late enough as is."

 They hurried out of the house, Killian carefully buckling Hope into her carseat as Emma set the diaper bag in the opposite seat, then opened the driver's side door.

 "I'll drive," Emma said, "we're already running late."

 "Are you saying I'm a bad driver?" Killian asked, already willingly taking the passenger seat.

 "You're a great driver," Emma said, "you're just a little more… careful."

 "One does not drive fast and take chances when hauling precious cargo, love," Killian said, "and there's nothing in all the realms more precious than you and our daughter."

 "Alright, Captain," Emma rolled her eyes, knowing it wasn't gonna hurt anyone to drive five miles over the speed limit- or the ten miles over it she'd have to go to make it to the coronation on time.

 "I still can't believe we're so late," Emma thought, knowing it would be a close call to get to the Enchanted Forest before the ceremony started, "I could've magicked us there, but it's not good to teleport with a child. I hope we get there before Regina does, and that no one bats an eye that we're a little late. It'll be alright, I'm sure."

 She glanced over at Killian and noticed that he didn't seem nearly as stressed as she was- in fact, that he was smiling at her, smiling the way he did when he clearly had something on his mind.

 "What?" Emma asked, glancing at him with a smile to mask her state of exasperation.

 "Your dress," Killian smiled, "you wore that color on our first date."

 "Our first date?" Emma asked, "Killian, that was years ago."

 "And?"

 "I don't know," Emma shrugged, "I just didn't expect you to remember.…"

 "How could I forget?" Killian asked, "it was a moment spent with you- and every one of those is a treasure."

 Emma smiled a little, and tried to coyly hide her insecurities behind humor, "even this morning, when I was a frantic mess covered in baby spit?"

 "You mean when you almost managed to get us out the door on time, despite being up all night with a crying child?" Killian asked, "and when I looked up at you and saw you, my princess, my wife- and our daughter, our little princess- and I thought to myself, 'Killian, how did you get so lucky, to get to call such a rare treasure yours?' And when we got to spend another moment longer together, with just each other and our daughter, because of that 'frantic mess and baby spit?'"

 Emma couldn't hide her flustered smile.

 "So what you're saying is," Emma asked, "that even though this morning was crappy, you treasure it because it was spent with me?"

 "Aye," Killian smiled.

 Emma couldn't remember anyone in her life who'd ever made her feel this treasured.

 "Ya know what," Emma said, "this morning started with your groggy 'good morning' and sleepy smile. When our little princess caused a little mess, you were right there to help take care of it. You've been so great this morning, and always. I don't know what I'd do without you."

 "Nor I without you, love," Killian said. He placed his hand on Emma's shoulder, "I want to spend every 'crappy morning' with you."

 Emma glanced over at him and smiled, reflecting a hint of his own smile back into his blue eyes. "I want to spend every crappy morning with you too."

[crime-wives]

ouat 1x01 thoughts

god regina, you dramatic bitch. “I shall destroy your happiness if it is the last thing I do” ok darling, you can destroy me if you’d like

henry is so small, his tiny cheeks awww

not to be gay but… emma swan in the pink dress. fuck. i forgot how attracted to her i was. and the HAIR, the fucking princess curls. jesus christ her ARMS.

“bail bonds-person” i love her

yesss bitch, strut across the street like you own it. absolute icon behavior, slamming that asshole’s face into the steering wheel.

babe you’re so sad and pathetic with your vanilla cupcake. i bet she wished for family.

not her apartment door saying ‘cast a spell’

“My name’s Henry, and i’m your son” agevgsvegw STOP

her having a panic attack in the bathroom, so real.

once again, her ARMS, i want her so bad

henry’s cute little freckles, i can’t do this.

idgaf abt snow and charming “She poisoned an apple because she thought I was prettier than her” shut up bitch, you know that’s not why

“Oh kid, you’ve got problems” emma swan, insulting children since 1983

ok but the fact that they chose the name ‘emma’ in a fairytale world, lmao

evil queen theme song playing as they enter storybrooke

emma swan wearing the most dyke outfit possible. getting ready to impress milfs

not that there’s any significance, but emma’s license plate is: 836•M4X

snow and charming are so annoying istg

ewww the blue fairy, i hate that bitch (derogatory)

regina running towards henry and wrapping him up in a hug. her eyes are wet. good lord, her first reaction is concern and worry, not anger.

“I found my real mom” my HEART. her face after he said that, so stricken and hurt, baby…

emma’s little flustered, ‘hi’ when talking to a gorgeous milf. ok babe, we get it, you’re gay.

graham leaving bc of emma and regina’s immediate sexual tension. and regina’s eyes roving over emma.

first ‘Miss Swan’ of the show at exactly 21:00 minutes.

emma swan is so desperate to impress regina. it’d be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic (affectionate)

“Sneaky bastard” once again, emma swan insulting children since 1983

crashing into the storybrooke sign like the absolute icon she is

the cgi 💀💀

yay!! curse time :)

emma waking up in a jail cell. she just does not give a fuck about this shit.

her lips parting when she she’s regina, ok babe, she’s hot we get it

LIP SCAR

god mary-margaret pisses me off

go regina, knock over mary-margaret’s shit, absolute queen

“She’s kinda a hardass” yes but that turns you on, doesn’t it?

gina’s so hot when she’s evil

putting a newborn through the wardrobe to save themselves, a+ parenting

henry mills, once again, the most mature one in a situation “You don’t have to be hostile. You like me, I can tell. You’re just pushing me away because I make you feel guilty.”

“I wanted you to have your best chance. But it’s not with me. C’mon, let’s go.” go emma! be the mature adult i know you can be

petition to get emma swan a therapist so she can deal with all her issues (trust me, she’s got a lot of them)

“Look, your mom is trying her best. I know it’s hard, and I know sometimes you think she doesn’t love you, but at least she wants you.” emma swan, standing up for regina mills since the moment they met

mmm regina’s voice is so hot.

her unhinged laughter, i love her so much

“Where are we going?” “Somewhere horrible, absolutely horrible” takes them to maine

emma swan is so fucking desperate for regina’s approval. she wished to not be alone on her birthday, baby…

second ‘Miss Swan’ of the show at 38:43 (i will be keeping count of all of them :D)

regina fidgeting with her blazer pockets, she’s so anxious

first “He’s my son” at 39:01 minutes

“I will destroy you if it is the last thing I do” babe, it’s kinda gay to have a nemesis, just saying

third ‘Miss Swan’ of the show at 39:32

baby… gina is coming apart at the seems

god, not to be gay, but regina’s HANDS at 40:27 agevvegse

emma’s only staying because of regina’s provocations. she wouldn’t have stayed for henry.

gold is so icky.

she’s staying a *only* a week, sure babe, sure.

also side note, i forgot how good the coloring was in ouat. like its very faded, maybe indicative of storybrooke being stuck in the past???

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Interlude 15.x Live Reactions

(This is going to be a very - no, insanely - long post)

As I noted, after this I'll be trying (ha!) to read faster, and on my phone more so I can just get this done.

This is gonna be an interesting read. Purportedly, after all, this is where we're supposed to get the idea that Amy raped Vicky. Though supposedly Wildbow had to do a line by line analysis to make that point on reddit (which I have not read) and I feel like if you have to do that for something like rape, you've kind of failed your task as a writer, at least in terms of conveying what you meant.

I wish, even more than usual, I could be coming into this fully blind but I'm not. I know the 'official' interpretation of this scene is rape, and that the text of the sequel makes it canonical that Amy raped Vicky here, but I also know large numbers of people never got that take, and Wildbow somehow spent years not noticing massive swaths of his readership didn't realize rape had happened... supposedly.

We'll see if I come away convinced that rape is the best reading that can be constructed from this scene, though from what I gather, it's more that a rape reading in this scene feels wildly out of place with all of Amy's other stuff.

It's certainly hard to reconcile the Amy we just saw in Arc 14 with Raping Vicky, though 14.10 makes it not impossible.

Of course, since I'm not coming in blind - I'm aware of the official version, and I've seen some people make the arguments in support of that reading and I've seen a bunch of arguments against that reading, etc - it's not like that all won't be hanging over all of this.

And the thing is, on a certain level, it doesn't actually matter. In the context of the universe itself, it certainly matters, but from the perspective of all these characters not actually existing in the real world, it doesn't really much matter to me.

On the level of Amy's actions: What she does do to Vicky that everyone agreed on (changing her brain, then mind controlling her in 14.6 and 14.10, not immediately removing the 'love me' change from Vicky's brain, wretching her - intentionally or accidentally or a mix or w/e - and not fixing her brain at any point there, and so on) is a gross and horrifying betrayal and a deep, deep violation of Vicky's mental and bodily autonomy. Making actual, real rape a thing that happened here as well is just icing on a cake, really, in a lot of ways, in the context of Worm. (Ward can and will be safely ignored for the rest of this post - in just a moment anyway)

For another, while it appears a lot of readers and fans did turn on Amy - her popularity in the fandom and in fics and stuff purportedly took a bit of a nosedive after the rape was made clear in Ward and in Wildbow's various WoG, though apparently there were still people who read Ward and missed that rape was made clear (Maybe use the word? Apparently Wildbow doesn't even use that word in Ward), it wouldn't actually change much for me.

(Now ignoring Ward)

See, some of my favorite fictional characters have comitted rape.

Damon Salvatore? Mass murderer and... though the narrative doesn't really linger on it, he rapes Caroline Forbes in early Season 1, and his girlfriend that he gets at the end of S2 (I think) and is dating in early S3 is a relationship so full of Compulsion (mind control ability vampires have in TVD verse) that it's moved well past dubcon, I'd say. And there's probably other shit like that in the man's past. Again, the narrative doesn't linger, but it's fucking rape. Still love Damon, amazing character, my trash son, but yeah, committed rape. Absolute monster, by any reasonable standard.

Regina Mills - again, mass murderer, tyrant, and... at the very least, she raped the Huntsman for possibly up to 38 years. (Again, it's never clearly stated, but she ripped out his heart - which in OUAT verse is a thing dark magic allows that lets the holder of the hard dictate commands to the person and also just kill them if they crush it - and then commanded her guards to bring him to her chambers. Ten years later, she casts the dark curse, and the Huntsman's cursed persona is having sex with her about once a week, at least, for the next 28 years, though given the nature of the curse, only Regina and later her son Henry are aware of the passage of time.) Regina is my favorite OUAT character, has an amazing redemption arc, and is unquestionably a hero to the point where she's crowned the 'Good Queen' in the series finale by Snow White (i.e. the girl she became evil while chasing revenge on). The narrative doesn't really linger on it, I'm not even sure the writers quite realized that it was rape, but I never believed it anything else. Still love her, because she and the Huntsman are both entirely fictional. Not real people.

On BtVS, Faith attempts to rape Xander, and basically does rape Riley while in Buffy's body (Riley is Buffy's boyfriend and thinks it's Buffy he's having sex with. Also she also effectively rapes Buffy by having sex with Riley while in control of her body). I still love her, one of my favorite characters. Again, the narrative doesn't really linger on this (the show in general has a bad habit of not lingering on female-on-male sexual violence or sexual harrassment).

Also on BtVS, Willow wipes her girlfriend's (Tara) memory so she forgets a pretty serious argument they were having, and then they have sex the next day, which Tara would probably not have had if she was still angry with Willow. While the show never calls it rape, I and large parts of the fandom consider it as such. (Tara never calls it rape either, though she is incredibly furious with Willow when she finds out, and they break up - and then get back together 12 episodes later, buuut :shrug) Still big fan of Willow, Tara/Willow is still the biggest ship for willow and one of the largest ships in the fandom.

Now, it's true that in all four cases, the writers either didn't realize it was rape, or didn't care and never really address it, but the key point is that I am perfectly capable of being a huge fan of Amy and wanting to see her redeemed/get better/etc (which I am and do) and accepting that she committed rape. So it's not like I'm going to just insistently refuse to see rape

Now, apparently part of the argument against the 'rape happened' reading is also how 15.x fits into the rest of the work, both before, and after, with regards to the fact that (apparently) Amy doesn't really talk about Vicky with any sort of sexual element, just a worshipful adoration, etc, (and the fact that rape never comes up and so forth) which I won't know until I get that far. But again, it is worth noting that large numbers of people didn't get rape as the intended reading, which again, seems like a pretty big detail to fail to convey to the reader. It's worth nothing that the comments for 15.x on the actual worm website mention 'mindrape' and that it felt 'rapey' but not 'rape' full on.

Now, with a much larger preface than intended, let's actually read this godforesaken Interlude.

Actually, having done the live reaction below, I'm gonna put it all below a readmore

Some of that was fatigue, some of it was hunger, some was thirst.  She had no idea how much time had passed.  She might have been able to guess from her period, but her body had decided such would be a waste of precious resources.  It hadn’t come, and she had no idea how many weeks or months it had been.

You only keep a Kidnap victim for weeks or months if you think there's a chance of a ransom. The fact that Carol's parents refused to just fucking pay the goddamn ransom for that long says a lot about how shit they were. Carol absolutely sucks as a mother, but she did have a pretty shitty starting point (though, somehow, somehow, Sarah managed to be at least halfway decent, so Carol could have come out better, but now I'm trying to compare traumas here and that's pretty sucky, but remember this is a Carol Dallon Hate Blog)

“Amy has always insisted she couldn’t heal brain injuries.” Alan winced.  “I see.  The worst sort of luck.” Carol smiled, but it wasn’t a happy expression.  “So imagine my surprise when, after weeks of taking care of my husband, wiping food from his face, giving him baths, supporting him as he walked from the bedroom to the bathroom, Amy decides she’ll heal him after all.”

Love how she just glosses over the part where Bonesaw actively did even more, possibly eventually fatal, damage to Mark's brain. Even when she does Mention Bonesaw invading the house below, she doesn't mention that part.

I feel like Mark would be able to mention that, so I'm sure Carol is just conviently ignoring the part where Amy was faced with 'Mark fucking dies if I don't break my rule'

“Oh, I imagine she was.  Victoria went looking for her after she ran away, returned home empty-handed.  I think she was even more upset than I was, with Amy taking so long to heal Mark.  She was almost inarticulate, she was so angry.”

So that would suggest that at least at first Vicky doesn't tell Carol what Amy did to her. Which would fit with Vicky saying she hadn't told anyone back in the early parts of Arc 14 (don't remember which chapter she said it) but the context could have just meant 'didn't tell the Protectorate/PRT' Though, it does still leave the open question: Amy was running around the city for fucking DAYS, a week possibly? between Interlude 11h and when she shows up in Arc 14.2 or 14.3. Did Carol even look for her? Why isn't she looking fucking now? She's your daughter, right, and Slaughterhouse Nine is looking for her too?

Is Sarah looking? Mark? Crystal?

Even if you don't love her or care about her, you shouldn't want S9 to have ahold of her, so maybe look for her rather than FUCKING FILE PAPERWORK?!

Carol fidgeted.  “Oh, that wasn’t even the worst of it.  Victoria’s been flirting with the notion of joining the Wards, and she went out to fight the Nine just a few days ago.  Apparently she was critically injured.  She was carried off for medical care and nobody’s seen her since.”

Ah, so this is now happening post-S9 leaving the city (though there's still no mention of Carol looking for her) and she's... not even looking for Vicky?

Like, okay, big city, might not be able to find her, but I feel like if I had a kid that I purportedly loved (as Carol does supposedly at least love Vicky, in her own horrible abusive sort of way) and said kid was missing and I had superpowers making it safe to go looking, I would be looking, damn the goddamn paperwork.

This woman just can't actively not suck.

Also, of all the people to be talking about this to, why the fuck is it Alan Barnes. Just a weird character to use for this. Is it supposed to be a juxtaposition - Carol was a neglectful bitch and Alan a too supportive parent and both ended up screwing their kids up?

“Or dead,” Carol said.  She blinked a few times in rapid succession, fighting the need to cry.  “I don’t know.  I was patrolling, searching, and I felt my composure start to slip.  I feel like shit for doing it, but I came here, I thought maybe if I took fifteen minutes or half an hour to center myself, I could be ready to start searching again.”

Okay, so there's that, so she was looking and just (understandably) needed a moment, but again - did you look for Amy at all earlier? Did fucking anyone? Somehow no member of New Wave actually showed up anywhere during Arcs 12 or 13 or 14, apart from Amy and Vicky.

He’d tried to attack them?  Carol couldn’t understand it.  He was the one who’d taken care of them.  When he’d appeared, she’d been happy.  And now it felt like that had been ruined, spoiled. She felt betrayed and she couldn’t understand why.

Stockholm Syndrome is a hell of a drug. But trigger trauma isn't much of an excuse, Carol, really fucking isn't.

“We didn’t know where you were.  But let’s not fight again.  The important thing is that Tattletale pointed us in the right direction.  We think we know where your daughters are.” Daughters?  Plural? Carol couldn’t put a name to the feeling that had just sucker-punched her.

Right, because with what little you know about the situation, you shouldn't actually have much reason to be that worried.

Technically, you're right this time, which I really kind of hate on the 'Carol Sucks' level of my personality, but you have no valid basis, because your paranoia was not actually well-founded.

The Brockton Bay Brigade closed in on the man who stood by his leather armchair, wearing a black silk bathrobe.  He held his ground. “If you’ll allow me to finish my wine-” he started, bending down to reach for the wine glass that sat beside the armchair.

Marquis really is the textbook fucking definition of classy, isn't he? :rofl:

 It meant she didn’t fall on her rear end, and she could pick a more appropriate posture as she snapped back into her human shape.

I mean, falling on your ass in a fight is just bad from a tactical standpoint, but also, I mean, you can't go losing style points, right?

The needles retracted.  Marquis rolled his shoulders, as if loosening his muscles.  “Broke your foot?  How clumsy.”

If nothing else, he's fun.

Well, only in a sense.  They still hadn’t touched him, and two of their members were out of commission.  Three, if she counted Fleur being occupied with a wounded Lightstar in her arms.

And so let's use his child against him! Great move!

Let's invade someone's home without checking to see if there's any innocents around! GREAT PLAN!

Was he distracted?

Maybe ask yourself why.

Though, I will say - Marquis didn't have to play Coy. He quite literally could have just said 'my daughter's in that closet'. They might not have believed him, but it wouldn't have been hard to show them.

I'm not saying I don't get why he didn't, but technically Marquis didn't make the most optimal choice here.

But that... happens.

“Careful now,” Marquis chided her.  “Don’t want to get decapitated now, do we?”

*giggle*

Instead, she turned and charged for the closet, creating a sword out of the crackling energy her power provided, slashing through the plates of bone that had surrounded it, then drawing the blade back to thrust through the wooden door-

I dunno. I know it's Amy - we all know it's Amy, at this point, even people reading Blind - and we're inclined to dislike Carol anyway at this point, again, even people reading Blind, I assume - but this just seems incredibly foolish.

Like, I guess maybe leaping straight to 'there's a kid there' might be a bitch much, and Carol in particular probably would have a hard time imagining Marquis as caring about another person because she's projected her issues with her kidnapper onto him for... reasons, but I mean, he could have a wife (or husband, I suppose) or girlfriend or all manner of things in there you may not want to hurt, and like... I dunno, I'd at least fucking open the closet before swinging in there? Maybe?

Fic idea - Marquis is a little too slow, but instead of killing her (I have read one fic where that happened. Marquis, understandably, kills Carol right after) he like, maims Amelia or something, cuts off her arm, or gives her a major scar or something.

That could be a really interesting story. Especially if Marquis still gets beaten, or Carol gets away and has to look at her daughter after having done that.

(I may hate Carol, but I can't imagine she'd be blithe about having maimed an innocent child, even Marquis kid, in the middle of a fight.)

*ads the fic idea to the list, which won't stop growing*

She stared down at him.  That long hair, it was such a minor thing, but there was something else about him that stirred that distant, dark memory of the lightless room and the failed attempt at ransom.  Her skin crawled, and she felt anger boiling in her gut.

This is so insane and then you take that projection and add a second layer onto Amy and like what the ABSOLUTE FUCK is wrong with you sick little woman?

“What were you so intent on protecting?” Manpower asked.  “This where you stash your illegitimate gains?”

Because Marquis didn't just say he didn't really care if they destroyed his expensive home a few minutes ago. Jesus Christ Manpower really is a dumb brute, isn't he?

“Her mother’s gone, I’m afraid.  The big C.  Amelia and I were introduced shortly after that.  About a year ago, now that I think on it.  I must admit, I’ve enjoyed our time together more than I’ve enjoyed all my crimes combined.  Quite surprising.”

Is that actually a thing anyone does? Or ever did? Is that a Canadian thing? Or a new england slang? 90s Lingo? I feel like no one has ever called Cancer 'The Big C' before.

That feels like something a writer - not necessarily Wildbow - invented and people just ran with even though it wasn't actually a thing people did.

If Marquis had realized how fucking terribly Carol would have raised Amy, I have to imagine he'd have settled for foster care instead. :rofl:

The idea disturbed her.

Why? Maybe get some fucking therapy for that, bitch? Seriously.

WHY THE FUCK DOES THIS DISTURB YOU?!

Maybe ask yourself that question?! But then, I suppose if you were capable of a single iota of self-examination, you would not have been such a shit mother and indeed, shit human.

That cultured act, the civility that was real.  Marquis was fair, he played by the rules.  His rules, but he stuck to them without fail.  It didn’t match her vision of what a criminal should be.  It was jarring, creating a kind of dissonance. That dissonance was redoubled as she looked at the forlorn little girl.  Layers upon layers, distilled in one expression.  Criminal, civilized man, child.

Right, and how dare something not line up with your view of the world? How DARE?! Surely the problem is with the thing, and not you?! SURELY!

“Then you take care of her,” Brandish replied, even as she mentally prayed her sister would refuse.  There was something about the idea of being around Marquis’ child, that uncanny resemblance, having those memories stirred even once in a while, even if it was just at family reunions… it made her feel uneasy.

*shakes head* jesus christ.

I wonder what Amy Pelham's relationship with Aunt Carol would have been like. A lot of 'why doesn't Aunt Carol like me?' I imagine. Which might have led to Sarah berating Carol into getting help sooner, because I can't imagine Sarah wouldn't have loved her daughter Amy as much as Eric and Crystal.

Though who knows. May just be grass is greener.

“You should.  Amelia’s Vicky’s age, I think they would be close.”

*nervous, awkward, darkly ironic laughter*

“I’m sorry to bring it up,” Brandish said. “But it’s relevant.  I decided I could have Vicky because I’d know her from day one.  She’d grow inside me, I’d nurture her from childhood… she’d be safe.”

And you did a bang up job with her! Two thumbs up! /s

“That child deserves better than I can offer.  I know I don’t have it in me to form any kind of bond with another child if there’s no blood relation.” Especially if she’s Marquis’. “She needs you.  You’re her only option.  I can’t, and Fleur and Lightstar aren’t old enough or in the right place in their lives for kids, and if she goes anywhere else, it’ll be disastrous.”

I can't believe I'm saying this, but: Sarah, Sarah, look at me.

Listen to Carol. For once in her life, she's actually right about something.

Look at me Sarah. Listen to your sister.

You could grow to love and trust that little girl, too.”

Truth is, she probably could have, but it would have required Carol getting over herself, and that, as it turns out, was borderline impossible.

I don't believe it would have been completely impossible - people always have a choice - and that's why, at the end of the day, I will never let sympathy for Carol rise beyond the barest of minimums, because she had a responsibility to be better, to get better, not just for Amy, but for Vicky, and she didn't, and so again, This Is A Carol Dallon Hate Blog.

Was the girl in shock?  Carol couldn’t muster any sympathy.  Amy was stopping her from getting to Victoria.  Victoria, who she’d almost believed was dead.

See, this is just...

I mean, I'm glad Carol didn't kill Amy here, but Carol has not even an iota of concern for Amy, and yet, once she sees the state of Victoria and supposedly finds out that Amy raped Victoria, she suddenly has enough sympathy for Amy to not kill her?

I -

Seriously. Absolute bizzaro world shit here, Wildbow.

“So I thought I’d put her in a trance, and make it so she’d forget everything that happened.  Everything that I did, and the things that the Slaughterhouse Nine said, and everything that I said to try to make them go away.  Empty promises and-“

Okay, so like, you can Amy's lying here, but all we have to go on is what she says, you know? If Wildbow wanted us to get the takeway that Amy's lying here, he kind of needs to make that more clear.

Like, far from done, and I am kind of biased against WB at this point, to say the least, but it's just really fucking hard for me to see this girl acting like this if she just raped her sister.

I mean, really, man, if that really was your intent, you did a REALLY bad job of conveying it, and when you fail as a writer you don't fucking take that out on the readers.

(Right, sorry, I said I was ignoring Ward. Back to doing that)

She could never be my daughter because she’d never stopped being his.

She doesn't even remember him, you crazy psycho!

Amy kept talking, her voice strangely monotone after her earlier emotion, as if she were a recording.  Maybe she was, after a fashion, all of the excuses and arguments she’d planned spilling from her mouth.  “I wanted her to be happy.  I could adjust.  Tweak, expand, change things to serve more than one purpose.  I had the extra material from the cocoon.  When I was done, I started undoing everything, all the mental and physical changes.  I got so tired, and so scared, so lonely, so I thought we’d take another break, before I was completely finished.  I changed more things.  More stuff I had to fix.  And days passed.  I-“

I'm having trouble seeing it. I really am.

I get that we're supposed to see 'break' as like... Amy raping her or something but -

But that -

no.

 It might even have been something objectively beautiful, had it not been warped by desperation and loneliness and panic.

Everything about this scene just paints Amy as pathetic and pitiable. She really is a sopping wet poor little meow meow here.

I'm not saying a rapist can't also be pitiable - someone can be victim and victimizer, of course they can - but if you want the pitiable character to be seen as a rapist, or, you know, hated, for what they did -

Especially when it's from fucking Carol's POV, and Wildbow just got done explaining how little regard Carol actually has for Amy, how she has no sympathy for the girl and everything.

If there's any POV that should not be painting Amy as pitiable, but as the rapist we're supposed to believe she is, it's Carol's right?

Then I’d go and spend the rest of my life healing people.  Sacrifice my life.  I don’t know.  As payment.”

Wildbow makes the most woobifiable character in the world, and then gets self-righteous when people woobify her.

News at 11.

And with everything laid bare, there was not a single resemblance to Marquis.  There was no faint reminder of Brandish’s time in the dark cell, nor of her captor.  If anything, Amy looked how Sarah had, as they’d stumbled from the house where they’d been kept, lost, helpless and scared. She looked like Carol had, all those years ago. The weapon dissipated, and Brandish’s arms dropped limp to her sides.

All this does is make Carol look narcissistic in the weirdest and worst way. She can only give a shit about someone who reminds her of... her?

But I mean, the whole reason she supposedly loved Vicky is because Vicky came from her, so she should have that take priority over...

I'm sorry. I'm just not seeing it. I'm not -

And Carol's actions here, even with the 'she looked like carol had' just...

No. This is weird. This is confusing. This is nonsensical. And I'm sure as shit not getting a 'Amy Raped Vicky' takeaway here.

Even allowing for Jack's comment about 'indulging' in 14.10. When Amy didn't agree or anything, and Jack would have no way to know what Amy did or didn't do when he wrote that letter we see in 14.11.

Like, if I squint and force myself to twist my brain into nots I can... pretend I can see it... but even then...

I mean, maybe Amy's lying, and characters lie and misrepresent and so on, true, but unless the text gives us a good reason to believe they are, which it hasn't yet...

I mean, it's the official version, the official narrative, that it's Rape. That's the WoG. And like...

Even if I didn't have my, admittedly largely unfounded, suspicions that Wildbow is just flat out lying about his original intent or meaning, I do believe that WoG should be an enhancement to and addition to the text, not a direct contradiction.

It really does seem like WB ended up falling into the trap of figuring he could just let his WoG paper over mistakes in his writing rather than getting it right the first time?

Carol stared as Amy shuffled forward.  The cuffs weren’t necessary, really.  A formality.  Amy wasn’t about to run.

I mean, this is another thing I don't get. Amy haters harp on Amy 'running away from responsibility/consequences' but I mean... quietly going to the Birdcage, an unaccountable black box of a prison where (IIRC from what I've heard) 2/3s of the prisoners ended up dying by the time of the breakout is sort of the opposite of running away?

I mean, Amy should have fixed Vicky before going, this is true, but it seems clear she wasn't sure she could, and would Carol and Sarah have even let her?

As if she could convey everything she wanted to say in a single gesture, she folded her daughter into the tightest of hugs.

I -

I mean, I suppose stranger things have happened, but of all the times to actually suddenly start giving a shit about Amy, it's here and now?

Yeah, I can't reconcile this with Wildbow's official narrative of things.

“Victoria is gone.  There’s nothing of her left but that mockery. 

Yeah, okay, back to Carol just sucking 100%. That's more familiar ground.

The day I cease seeing her as his daughter and see how she could be mine, he takes her back, she thought.

Well, no one to blame but yourself, Carol.

Yeah, my official verdict is: if this is supposed to be the scene that convinces the reader Amy raped Victoria, then...

Yeah, I'm not seeing it. I'm not seeing anything that makes that implied even with a tortured reading. Even with the most hostile reading, I don't -

I don't see it. I really don't. I'm trying to have as open a mind as possible, I tried to look for it -

This isn't me questioning a victim in the 'was it really rape' way or whatever, I'm questioning whether the writing of a scene conveys the idea that one character committed the physical/sexual act of rape on another, and this scene does not. Maybe there's another scene later on (In Worm) that will convince me, but...

This one sure doesn't.