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lord-of-the-harvest · 1 year ago

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Pleasure, Pain, and Power Chapter 12

Chapter 12-All One's Sins

Summary: Cont. of Chapters 8, 9, 10, &11 Ren and Jasmine talk about his line of work, and Fox has a heated conversation with Kangaroo regarding his job.

Contains: Hurt/comfort, oral sex, breath play, humiliation, recording, pet play, inhuman genitalia mentions of drinking, snuff, murder

NSFW

MDNI

“Um, I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up, but your last night away, you did call me. You didn’t tell me much, but you sort of told me…what it is you do.” Ren pulled away even more, his nose scrunched and eyebrows narrowed. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t even know how it happened, but we were on the phone and you kept talking about it, and I didn’t want to bring it up, and I thought you’d be mad, and now I just want to go back to normal and forget it, and-” “What did I say?” Ren cut her off and Jasmine stared at him. “H-huh?” “What did I say, Pet? What did I say I do?” He was gritting his teeth and clawing into the tiles. Jasmine fumbled her words, she had been trying to block out what he said to help ease her paranoia. “I-you said, um, it was mean of me to capture Kangaroo, and it’s your job to do that, and you don’t torture with cartoons. You said that’s what…red rooms are for.” She sniffled and Ren’s eyes got wide, a single tear fell down Jasmine’s cheek. “And then you talked about your trip, and making a mess, and-” “Stop, just stop, Pet.” Ren pinched the bridge of his nose and ran his fingers through his hair. “Ughh, I need to not let Diamond talk me into drinking so much.” “You mentioned her too-” “I said stop! Alright, listen.” He leaned back, collecting his thoughts. He’s never had a pet find out about his work due to a drunken phone call, and certainly hasn’t had one bring it up so pathetically. Not to mention…she didn’t seem particularly scared. Their whole day had been nice up until this point, and had he been asked, Ren wouldn’t be able to tell she knew at all. She was silent while he leaned back, of course now she looked frightened. Although, it was more akin to someone fearing the consequences of confessing a sin or betrayal, rather than genuine fear of a dangerous partner. It reminded Ren of himself from long ago. He looked at her teary eyes, she was averting his gaze, not wanting to face her disappointed owner. A piece of his heart broke off seeing her like this, but he had to remain firm and composed.

“Well, I didn’t want you to find out like this, obviously. Usually when those in the past found out it was under much more…serious circumstances.” Jasmine sunk even deeper into herself, and lowered her head even more till her nose almost touched the bubbles. Had it not been for the sheer brutality of their conversation, it may have been comical to see a couple having a fight like this in a hot tub. “Aaahh, I’m not going to hurt you, Pet.” She peaked up at him through her hair, he looked more as though he was keeping himself from strangling her rather than trying to ease her anxiety. His grin resembled an animal baring its teeth, and not happy or content at all. “Thank you for telling me, though. Now answer me this, you’re quiet, what’s going on in that little head?” His voice got softer, likely out of mental exhaustion from the day and her news. “I…it’s a lot to process.” She sniffled while still averting his gaze, which Ren didn’t like, and his voice rose at her again. “Yeah, well it’s a lot for me to ‘process’ too. Are you going to answer me, or are you going to keep hanging your head and crying?” She threw her arms around his neck and started bawling. “I don’t know, I don’t care anymore! I just don’t want you to be mad at me anymore! Please Ren, I want to go back. I don’t care what you do, I just want to go back to how things were when you weren’t mad with me!” Jasmine sobbed into his neck while he thought her response over. On one hand, she now knew his secret way earlier on in their relationship than he would have liked. On the other hand, she seems to be broken in enough to not fully process it. I’ll listen to the phone call later, whatever I said couldn’t have been that bad, or she would have tried escaping earlier. He remembered all the alone time she had with various employees, and didn’t even try to slip a note. He held her shoulders and pulled her back to face him. “Is that true, Pet? Do you really want to go back to how things were?” Jasmine held his wrists and nodded her head. “And be honest, I won’t be mad, are you afraid of me?” A lie. She thought for a moment, but shook her head. “You told me if I’m good I won’t get punished, and you haven’t gone back on that” Another lie. Her whispered voice was almost too quiet to hear. God, she just looks too…pitiful to be mad at her right now. He pulled her into a hug, and placed her head on his neck. “Okay then, darling, we can do that. Looks like no one will be hurt tonight.”

After they calmed down, they decided to head back upstairs. They dried off, put on their coverups, and took the elevator back up. For the first time, Ren allowed Jasmine to shower by herself while he tied something up in his office. Quickly, she rinsed off and washed her hair. She was eager to get to sleep and start fresh the next day. While Ren was in his office, he went through the notes Kangaroo had left him. Nothing here seems to indicate a change in behavior, I can interrogate him tomorrow, though. He looked at his call log, something he probably should’ve done that morning when he woke up hungover. Sure enough, an outgoing call to Jasmine was made around midnight that night. He scrubbed through the video feed to that time and saw Jasmine sobbing on the couch. I’ll have Kangaroo access the call audio tomorrow too. For now, though, this will work. He scrubbed through her cries and watched her go to sleep. He laid back, running his fingers through his hair and sighed. He still wasn’t sure how he wanted to proceed. She seems broken in enough, but once the shock and tears die down, she’ll have questions. Questions neither of us want me to answer. I guess business as usual till those pop up. He walked into the bedroom just as soon as Jasmine was climbing into bed. She smiled and flipped the covers down, inviting him in. He smiled back and kissed her forehead. “I need to shower too, Pet, but I’ll be quick.” Jasmine had almost fallen asleep when Ren came back and snuggled up to her. They laid there spooning for a while before Jasmine spoke up. “Ren, there’s something else you said that night.” He held her tighter and buried his face in her hair. “Drop it, Pet, we need to sleep.” “But yo-” “Drop. It.” His teeth gritted and Jasmine backed down. If he wasn’t joking about his work on that call, she wondered if he meant that he loved her as well. Ren’s alarm went off early in the morning, and the sun shone through the slits in the curtains. He rolled over and sleepily hit the snooze button, only to go back to hugging Jasmine. He liked to have a few extra minutes hugging her. As he woke up, he remembered their night together and sighed into her neck. This made Jasmine finally wake up enough to turn around and hug onto Ren’s waist. They laid there together until his alarm went off again, causing them to both curse and groan. He kissed her head and shut it off while rubbing sleep from his eyes. They played their usual game of Ren trying to get out of bed, only for Jasmine to drag him back into her clutches. While laughing, she pinned him to the bed with his arms above his head, only to fall onto him and nuzzle her face into his neck. If she’s willing to ignore it so easily, then I can too.

Ren

After strapping Jasmine’s collar back onto her neck, Ren was off to work. After the long drive to his bunker, he changed into his usual techwear and went to find Kangaroo. He found him with Rhino at his desk. Kangaroo was sitting behind it, typing away at his computer, while Rhino leaned against the wall talking to him. “Oh hey Fox! How were things after I dropped you to lovebirds off?” He was smiling, and nudged Rhino at the mention of ‘lovebirds’. “Oh it was perfect, just fine, yeah. Say, Kangaroo, answer me this. Can you do your fucking job?” His smile fell, but Rhino’s face rose. “Oh, what’d you do this time buddy?” He asked, nudging his coworker back even harder. “I didn’t do anything, what’s wrong now?” “Oh, well let me see. You know THIS?” He asked, gesturing to the walls and room around him. “Yeah, all this, Jasmine now knows about. I ask you to visit her and take notes for me, and you didn’t see anything that would’ve tipped you off she was onto it?” Kangaroo’s jaw dropped, and his eyes grew wide. “No, she was fine when I visited her! How the Hell could she have found out? Wait-” “Not important.” Fox cut him off. “Wait, did you call her before you called me the other night? Did you tell her while you were drunk? Why are you yelling at me?!” They were now screaming at each other, all while Rhino smirked and watched the show. “I’m yelling at you because I put you in charge of watching her! You’re supposed to find out these things while I’m away!” Kangaroo stood up, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fox. I. Am not. A fucking mind reader. Next time I’ll watch through the feed from when I’m not there. Do you want me to tap your phone line too? How about I just spend the night on your couch next time, huh?” Fox glared at him, he knew he was right, but didn’t want to admit it. “I do job after job for you. I was working the whole time, while also driving out to check on your Pet. Which, by the way, is no short drive.” Fox took a deep breath and reached into his jacket. “You’re right, Kangaroo. You do, in fact, do ‘job after job’ for me.” He handed over a white envelope, which was quickly snatched out of his hand. “So here’s the bonus I promised for that.” He sighed, leaning back, and holding his ears. “I apologize for yelling, happy?” Kangaroo thumbed through the cash in the envelope and glared back at him, a mischievous smile spreading on his face. “Hmmm, almost. Hey Rhino, did you know Fox has a collection of body pillows?”

After a much more embarrassing, yet light hearted, yelling match between the two, Fox asked him to pull up the call log from that night. He knew what Jasmine said, but wanted to hear it for himself. Towards the end of the day, he got it, and listened to it in his office. The worry in Jasmine’s voice was much more clear, and he winced and cringed at his description of his “mess”. He threw his head down on his desk and groaned. “Yeahhh, I should. I love you Jasmine! Goodnight!” His head shot back up, and his eye twitched. I really really need to stop letting Diamond talk me into drinking so much. He shut his eyes tight and hid his face behind his hands. Oh God, this is what she wanted to tell me last night, isn’t it?

…

Ren returned home to Jasmine waiting for him, drink in hand, at the front door. “Hello darling, I missed you!” She stood in place, not wanting to get too close to the entrance. Walked in and hugged her, tail swishing back and forth. He took a sip of his drink, a rum and coke, and kissed Jasmine’s cheek. “I missed you too, Pet, it’s nice to be home again.” He took off her collar and lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and carried her to the living room. She placed the drinks on the coffee table after he sat her down, and was pinned by her wrists to the sofa. She smiled at her fox climbing on top of her, and kissed him passionately. Their love making was cut short by a deep rumble coming from Ren’s stomach. Reluctantly, he climbed off of her and decided it was time to start on dinner. He made a delicious shrimp scampi with garlic bread. While filling each other in on their days, Ren briefly brought up the talk he had with Kangaroo. “So anyways, at the start of my day, Kangaroo decided to mention the pillows we have in the bedroom to Rhino.” It took a moment for Jasmine to think, but giggled when she realized he was talking about his daki collection. “With that being said, and not that I’m planning on it anytime soon, I think I’ll leave someone else in charge of checking in on you next time I’m away.” Jasmine quickly swallowed her food and refuted him. “I liked Kangaroo, I thought he did a really good job with me. You aren’t thinking about firing him, are you?” He laughed and set his fork down, picking up his drink instead. “My dear, people don’t get fired in my line of work.” Silence fell amongst the two and Jasmine stared into her diner. “To answer your question, though, no. He won’t be fired, nor will he be dealt with in other ways. I just thought someone else might be a better fit for you, is all.” Jasmine twirled her fork and made a puzzling look at Ren. “Well…I was thinking about that earlier, actually. I guess it wouldn’t really be murder, would it?” Ren choked on his drink and gave her an even more puzzled and alarmed look. “I mean, since you’re not, you know…human?” Ren dabbed at his mouth with his napkin and choked out a laugh. “Darling, you think too much, and you’re too smart to be asking me these things. You know how I feel about questions.” They fell into silence again, but Ren could see the thoughts behind her eyes. “Fine, you can ask me one of your little questions if you promise to drop it. I’ll answer it honestly, you have my word.” Jasmine’s face rose and she set down her fork, thinking which to ask. Why does he do it? No, he’d just say it’s because he’s good at it. How does he do it? I don’t think I’d want to know. How many people does he work with? How many people does he know? What does he make per video? Does he stream it? Where does he go everyday? What’s in his…oh God… “What’s in your office?” She figured wherever he goes is the main base of operations, but couldn’t wrap her head around what would be in the home office of a snuff filmmaker. “Hm, congratulations, Pet. You asked a smart, yet dangerous, question. Are you sure you want to know?” Jasmine put her hands in her lap and slowly nodded her head. “Alright, finish your food and I’ll show you.”

Jasmine put the dishes in the washer and followed Ren to his office. He hid himself while typing the passcode into the keypad, and flung the door open, turning on the lights. Jasmine followed him in, and looked at the room in awe. The walls were painted red, a big black rug laid on the hardwood floors. His desk sat at the right side of the room with a big tapestry behind it, depicting the emblem that was on her daily shock collar. The wall to the side of it was so full of so much anime paraphernalia, it would put most other collections to shame. Even his desk had a few figurines, as well as a framed photo of her. Although, she didn’t remember the photo being taken. The bandage on her chest told her it was taken the morning after their second night together. She reached up and touched the scars, remembering that night well. On the opposite side of the room, a large dog crate sat with a sex swing suspended from the ceiling above. She walked over to it and touched one of the straps. “In the past, I’ve brought pets in here when they’ve been bad, or when I just missed them while working. Having a photo on your desk is nice and all, but sometimes I just want to look up from my laptop and see them hanging up or napping in the crate.” She turned her attention to Ren, ignoring what looked like an old blood stain on the swing. She started up with another question, but cut herself off, remembering what he said about dropping the topic. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Okay Ren, you answered my question. I’ll be good now, and drop it. Thank you.” He placed his hands on her hips and licked his lips at her. “Such a good girl, why don’t you show your owner just how obedient you are.” She bit her lip and thought fast. Letting go of his shoulders, she sank down to her knees and nuzzled her face against his thigh. He mentioned again how good she was when she kissed his bulge. He undid his belt and unzipped his pants, letting his cock out. Jasmine kissed up the shaft and maintained eye contact with him the whole time she did it. “You’re so adorable when you’re like this, Pet, and you know this is where you belong.” She nodded her head, a faint “yes sir” escaping her lips before she used them on his head. She stuck out her tongue, and slid her mouth down his aching cock. She licked at his knot and he threw his head back in ecstasy. He looked back down when she gained a steady rhythm, bobbing her head up and down, and their gaze met again. He moved one hand to the side of her head, guiding her down as far as she could go, the other hand went in to pinch her nose. “Good girl, choke for me, I’ll let you breathe soon.” A small squeak tried to escape her throat, but nothing could get past Ren’s knot. Her tongue hurt as it was forced down onto her teeth, but she remained still, she knew he wouldn’t keep her here for too long. Sure enough, when she was about to run out of air, he let go of her nose and guided her head off his cock. She looked up at him, mouth agape and panting for air. “Aww, I could look at that all day, couldn’t I? In fact-” He gripped the side of her hair again, keeping her in place, while he looked for something in his pocket. He brought out his phone, and rubbed himself on the side of Jasmine’s face. “Look up darling, and keep that pretty mouth open~” She obeyed, and allowed him to take picture after picture of her. Feeling herself getting wet at the sheer embarrassment, she started to grind herself against the floor. That is, until Ren stopped her and insisted she hump his leg instead. “Come on, you can do it, act like the pet you know you are.” She clung to his hips and rubbed herself on his shin. God this is so humiliating, I’m so pathetic, how the Hell am I so turned on from this? What is wrong with me?

This was one of the rare times Ren opted to cum over her face instead of down her throat or inside of her. Her mouth was wide open and drooling, one eye was shut as he came right on her lid. He, of course, took another embarrassing photo of her and flipped through the photos he took. “Hmmm, I can’t choose which to put on my desk, the one I just took or the first one…Oh no, I never said stop, Pet, I want to see you finish.” Jasmine had stopped humping his leg after he came, thinking he’d let her up. She was wrong, and she cautiously kept going. He wiped the cum from her eye, only so she could keep looking at the camera. He popped his thumb in her mouth, letting her taste him again, but kept the rest of his cum smeared on her face. He had stopped taking photos, and was now filming her. Her breath hitched when he extended his leg out so she could better grind herself on him. She felt herself getting close, she gripped tighter on his hips, and her gaze faltered as she let out a loud, filthy, moan. She breathed heavily, still clutching to his hips, and looked back up at Ren and his camera. “Such a good girl, it’s not too hard to learn your place, now is it?”

By this time, they were both ready for a nice, long bath. They sunk into the hot, bubbly water, the whole room smelled like citrus and pine. Jasmine looked around the room, thinking to herself while laying on Ren’s chest. The bathroom was connected to the bedroom, and the back wall would be against Ren’s office. She decided not to ask why the bathroom wall was larger than the one she saw in his office.

Notes: Might take a *short* break, just to map out how I want the next few chapters to go. If anyone wants to see a filler chapter of Ren and Jasmine, let me know! All recommendations are welcome, either in AO3 comments, or in my Tumblr ask :)

#the price of flesh #boyfriend to death #ren hana #tpof ren hana #tpof fox #tpof announcer #tpof fanfic #pleasure pain and power

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proheromidoriyashouto · 2 years ago

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this is a betrayal akin to 9/11

LMFAOOOO ELON MUSK JUST GOT STABBED BY AN EX TWITTER EMPLOYEE

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zorkaya-moved · 1 year ago

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gen - 3, 9, 10 . story - 2, 7, 11. rom - 3, 7, 5

@poswiecenia

BG3 COMPANION ASK LIST.

Due to how many questions are here (ily), I'm going to separate this ask into 3 posts. This is the first one addressing the GENERAL section.

3. Does Zarina have any comments or advice when you recruit other companions?

If you recruit Zarina first out of all companions, she has comments on all companions. Well, she has comments in general. Always. The thing is that Zarina doesn't show her full true thoughts when you recruit each other. During Act I, she is still a charming liar. That's why Jaheira and Minsc have very different vibe of commentary. They go as follow:

Shadowheart: "She has sass and class? Consider me intrigued! I like her, let her stay for a while." Astarion: "Aw, he's going to fit into our little camp just perfectly. We need those who are always on their toes." Lae'zel: "A githyanki warrior is a rare ally, indeed. Believe me when I say this: she's a force to reckon with." Karlach: "What a darling! I can trust her to keep our heads safe. What a wonderful addition. Do enjoy your stay." Wyll: "The Blade of Frontiers is a known legend with powerful skills. It's an honor to have you fight by our side." Gale: "A wizard of his caliber joining our merry band? Well, we just keep finding golden nuggets, don't we!" Halsin: "A druid like him can either help us more or not at all. Do be sure to keep an eye on him." Minthara: "She called me ugly. Of course, I don't like her. I remember grudges, sweetheart. Sleep with both eyes open." Jaheira: "You can stop glaring at me, Jaheira, I will explain everything in due time. We can talk more when we're not as... occupied." Minsc: "Minsc will be a powerful ally to have for our future endeavors. Make sure to use him to our advantage."

9. Does Zarina have any escalating conflicts with one of the other companions, like Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s knife-fight?

The biggest conflict from the known people who can enter the camp would be DAME AYLIN. If you rescue the Nightsong, it will trigger a series of events where Dame Aylin makes it very clear how upset she is with Zarina as a daughter of a fellow Moon Goddess - Sehanine Moonbow. Aylin not only exposes Zarina greatly, but also lets her temper get the best of her despite Isobel's words.

Dame Aylin has all the reasons to be upset. Not only does Zarina reject her mother's gifts/call by refusing to sleep/dream and embrace her birthright but she also hides from her own truth from everyone. There is another level where the hostility grows and it's with how Zarina does NOT follow the path of those who are born from the Moon (Selune or Sehanine). Upon confrontation in the camp post-Myrkul fight, Dame Aylin and Zarina get into a one-sided fight until Tav (or any origin character) interrupts the beginning of the conflict.

Around the time of the Spellplague, Sehanine Moonbow was a fey aspect of Selune, which also gives a complicated dynamic between the two. Almost akin to sisters, but not exactly. Thanks to that, Dame Aylin treats Zarina's choices and existence as a betrayal to both Selune and Sehanine Moonbow as Zarina not only refused her name, her birthright as a demigod, and her path but also continues to stroll towards the darker shades instead of bringing justice in Faerun.

10. Are there any unique NPCs associated with Zarina that can show up during the course of the game?

As I'm still working on the Frigid Moon Companion Questline, I will say that there will be a deeper insight into Zhentarim's members and how Zarina has connections to almost everyone in Baldur's Gate when it comes to information exchange, power/influence and authority over organized crimes.

There will also be appearance of Sehanine Moonbow through one dream but only if the path of 'good ending' will be used to further her quest line. But that's it for now since I haven't yet fleshed it out more.

#❄ ― HEADCANONS. ╱ the cold，pure flame of conquering is what I was destined for.#THE NEXT PARTS WILL HAPPEN TOMORROW CUZ IM... EEPY...#THNK YOU FOR SENDING IT!!!#poswiecenia

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charleslovemustdie · 4 years ago

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✨ my OG stuff masterlist ✨

you can find everything ive made under #charles did this and #charles art if you're interested thank you for the support <3333

Disco Elysium

art:

debrief with kim

do you need something, detective?

sleepy kimharry

disco sapphics

undertale x disco

worship

+4 Kim is here

stupid shit:

silly kimharryjean meme

IWTV

art:

daniel molloy my best friend daniel molloy

misc:

TVL // 1x04, 1x07, lestat and claudia

TVL // 1x01, 1x03, louis and lestat

what the interview is about...

ofmd (mostly s1. fuck zionists like taika)

stupid shit:

almost kiss BLONDE BIMBO

how about we stop talking for a little while

stede's cravat throughout the episodes

something like it what if ed was there

art: you wear fine things well.

the black hole of the window where you sleep

izzy the weirdo he knows. we cant stop hurting each other

love without injury + what i am

betrayal and forgiveness are best seen as something akin to falling in love.

babygirl

i love everything about you

𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚆𝚎 𝙳𝚘 𝙸𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚜

stupid shit:

text posts: [1] [2] [3] [4]

other: something really lgbt just hæppened to me

⭐️ the illusion of free choice

hell yeah i'm a "vampire slayer" nadja you hurt his feelings :/

the council has decided.... you are friend :)

how do i get a girlfriend ??? beast in hardware aisle

nandermo + excuses to hold your hand

art: a reunion

you, who regrets nothing.

viago <333

why won't you chase after me ?

me and the bad bitch i pulled by being off-putting

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚞𝚜 𝙰𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 , art: season 5 jon

𝙻𝕠𝑘𝗶 (lmfao whoever was here when i was a loki blog is a true veteran. haven’t thought about this show in years. heritage posts:)

loki + text posts

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

[8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14]

[15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22]

art: even someone good // you kinda feel bad for that ice runt

lokius as brokeback mountain // the goddess of mischief

mr tesseract x presi loki doodle

loki + other shit [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [1]

misc jokes:

somebody tell him... // i know this and i love you

et tu brute ? // somebody gag this man

i have feelings for you // im gonna fuck(ing kill) him

ended up on fucking buzzfeed // we ? we :)

i want her to be homophobic SO badly + you guys

the heteros are gone // flirting with a narcissist

love loses // trust no one not even yourself

jealous mobius my beloved

the secret deleted lokius kiss // all men do is disappoint

tfw the god u chose is a mess // man i got a lot going on

mobius gets along with Every loki ;)

#charles art #charles did this #masterlist #disco elysium #iwtv #wwdits #ofmd #tma #loki

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val-aquenta · 4 years ago

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Here folks. Take an impromptu Mace centric fic as a token of my affections xD

Here on ao3

1. It takes 14 seconds to fall from the Chancellor’s office to the ground. Mace counts them slowly. Almost a meditation. Each second stretches for eternity, each centimetre passing with an agonizingly slow speed. Mace blinks and even that feels like it takes forever. Mace feels, well he really can’t feel his hand. His wrist, however, is another matter entirely. It throbs and throbs and does not stop. He supposes that soon he won’t have to worry about it.

2. Mace has time to feel betrayed. Feel the sting of anger and hurt for a moment before he is occupied by other things. He has known of a shatterpoint poised around Anakin, precariously on the point of breaking at any point. He had hoped that when it broke, the balance would be restored, but now… well the rise of the Sith is hardly balance. There is a moment of this anger, that Anakin could not have chosen better, did not deem balance important, but within moments it leaves him. He can do precious little now, weakened as he is, to stop his fall. He can only think about what he is about to leave.

3. He wonders how Depa is. Alone in the darkness of the world, struggling with her padawan, the newest member of their lineage. He wonders how young Caleb is. Whether the clones have befriended him, whether he has seen some interesting animal or tradition that he would have shared over tea next they met. He wishes, oh how he wishes, that he could see them one last time, could whisper his farewell to them, could press against their essence in the Force and feel them, feel his family, his daughter and her son.

4. Mace feels something twang, some kind of resignation from up above, from the office he has just been thrown out of. The dark, cold, oppressive feeling suffocated the surroundings. Young Skywalker, he realises, is truly stepping for the dark. He feels pain because that is where the path will end. With Anakin and all of Anakin’s friends in pain. The shatterpoint that has hovered over Anakin for all the man’s life breaks and shatters with an intensity he has only felt a few times before. Of course, it would be Anakin that aggravates the pain of his death in such a manner, he sardonically notes. However, the loneliness, the fear, the pain, and the resignation is painful to feel. Part of Mace feels bad for Anakin considering the path that he will walk on guarantees pain. He hopes that Anakin will turn from this path, but already he feels the strings of fate being drawn together as though this inevitability has been years in the making and is finally culminating in the man's fall.

5. The Force is dark. It has been darkening throughout the war, and even darkening before that. Slowly, but surely, using the Force to sense things had become akin to wading in a swamp through fog with nothing to provide light. True darkness had hidden within the despair, anger, and hate of the general populace, tired of the galactic war that sucked up resources. The war machine, fueled by uncaring individuals who had sought profit had pushed and pushed and pushed until it had taken up every thought. Until classrooms became war meeting rooms, and until the mosaics and gentle art of the Temple were chipped and left in disrepair as it simply became too expensive to keep clean and intact.

6. There is regret he feels for not having noticed what Palpatine was, what the man was capable of. He has never truly liked Palpatine. The man was a slimy politician like many others who somehow managed to put off a kind font for all his friends. The man has never done something like that for Mace, and Mace has always found the act somewhat manipulative. He spares an idle thought, wishing that the Zillo beast had somehow succeeded in eating the Sith. As a Jedi, he probably shouldn’t entertain such thoughts, but Palpatine is a sith lord who has orchestrated a galactic war. He hopes the Force will cut him some slack.

7. Obi-Wan. His friend. What devastation the man will feel. He has lost his Grandmaster to the clutches of the dark, lost his own Master to a Sith monster from his nightmares, lost his Grandpadawan to the greedy clutches of the Senate and the war, and now he will lose his own Padawan to the darkness. He wishes he could comfort his friend the way he had done after Qui-Gon’s death. Mace hopes his death will not hurt so much, but he knows Obi-Wan takes it very personally when someone he loves dies. He… he wishes he could also meet with Obi-Wan, wishes he could bring some joy, some calm, something positive to the man who will no doubt feel the most devastating feeling of loss when he realises his family has torn itself apart, has hurt each other in such a horrid way.

8. The Jedi in the Temple. There are so few, most of the older ones scattered throughout the galaxy, but he fears for the younger ones. With Anakin, himself, Kit, Saesee, and Agen gone, most of the defences in the Temple are gone. Now only the youngest of padawans, the younglings and the oldest members of their order remain. He knows, feels it in his bones, that the Temple will be attacked. It is impossible for Palpatine not to have planned something ensuring the death of his family. He hopes that the younglings might escape, that the few Knights might keep those younger safe, that the recovering Jedi in the healing rooms escape. However, Mace has always been logical. The best he can probably hope for is a quick painless death for the members of his family, one with as little pain as possible. Knowing Palpatine, the man who gladly played two sides of a galactic war, he knows that it won’t be so. His family will suffer more than just a quick death, they will suffer and he… he finds he hates the idea of it. What he would give to save them. He would die for them. Would take all their pain to save them. His family, the warmth he has always known will disappear, this he knows.

9. His lightsaber is falling too. Ahead of him. The crystal which has been by his side always is mourning with him, feeling the and echoing his betrayal, winking brightly just like he is before Mace dies. One hand stretches out and calls the blade to him. If he was to feel one last thing in his life, his lightsaber and the warmth from it would be high there. His intact hand grasps the blade and clutches it close, looking for that warmth, that light that he has had by his side since his childhood. The crystal hums on his level, reflecting joy at being united with him, sadness at the coming doom. His faithful friend has been by his side through many dangers but now is the end. He recalls the first time he picked it up, surrounded by darkness and cold and ice the crystal had sat, glowing and colourless. The blade had been purple, much to the surprise and delight of both himself and his family. Sure, he had tweaked the hilt as he had grown, but the crystal had remained the same. He reached out for it and let its calm force envelop him one last time, letting the light peace wash over him moments before his death.

10. Time seems to blur. He sees the past melding with the present. The future seems to push back and reaches him in strange visions, flickers across his vision. There are ghost feelings of something entirely alien drifting across his mind. The future, he realises with a quiet gasp, reaching back and showing him small flickers of it. Mace accepts it quietly. He accepts the flickers of death, destruction, and terrible darkness as they fall across his vision. He sees the lone figures of light as they leap across an indifferent galaxy, attempting to fight the suffocating darkness. There is a shadow of a togruta, old and unfamiliar with blades of pure light against one red and black shadow flickering across his vision, followed by a robes figure facing off a dark machine, a strange imprint of betrayal and sadness. Another shadow of green and red blades against each other followed by a sky of flickering light, illuminated by lightning. More and more visions flicker across his vision and finally a balance. He feels relief keenly as the light stretches past the few points it was reduced to. In the end, balance will prevail, he knows, and he rests easy with that knowledge.

11. His clones, he wonders, will be sad when they find out he is dead. He has somehow gained their respect and admiration. With that, as he and his colleagues had quickly found, came a need front he clones to keep them safe. Through many battles, Ponds watched his back, offered advice, and shared his pain. In turn, he has done the same, but it always feels like it is not enough. For all that he loves his troops, he can not save them from the Republic’s scorn and the Senate’s indifference. He has tried to save them, tried to keep the other military leaders from recklessly using the clones as a battering ram against the Separatists, disregarding the lives they will lose, but still he ends up with dead men. Ponds. He wishes… something. He wishes he could have said goodbye. Told him he wished he could have done more, could have saved more men. But, the time for that has passed and he cannot save them or comfort them. He only hopes that they will be safe and healthy and happy in the wake of his death. That someone will step up to take care of them.

12. His family… the Jedi… He can feel them dying. Something is… something is killing them. Someone is killing them. He has failed. Failed to protect them. Failed to save them. Their pain rips through the Force as they are killed, betrayal, pain, and anguish suffocating the Force. No! He feels his bonds, some of which have been in place since childhood, be ripped mercilessly from him. Depa’s still glows bright, alive, but there is something painful growing around her. It feels as though the end is coming soon, both for him but also for her. Lights flicker and are put out mercilessly. From the old elder Jedi who had been a mentor in the past to the young Rodian child he had comforted two weeks ago. They burn brightly, like stars, and then disappear, cementing darkness in the universe.

13. Mace Windu, moments before his death, sees something. He’s always seen things. Breaking points in people, situations, and things. He’s grown up with them. Now, in the seconds before he hits the ground at breakneck speed, he sees something different. An impossible possibility. The culmination of a billion small things resulting in the perfect world. So out of reach, so… impossible. It flashes for just a moment, blinking for an eternity. He observes it, observes the choices, observes the outcomes, the unfolding of events. It is almost as though he experiences it, almost like he lives through it, but not quite. This ‘what if,’ this best-case scenario, is an imagination. Nothing he can do will bring it to truth, and yet still Mace wishes.

14. Fourteen seconds. Mace Windu fell from a window fourteen seconds ago. For fourteen seconds he has fallen down the side of the building. Now, he hits the ground as darkness swallows the universe. It seems almost fitting that he would die the moment the Jedi are about to die and the universe is about to be swallowed by darkness. Mace closes his eyes a fraction of a second before he hits the ground at breakneck speed, the rapid speed of descent slowing abruptly in a split second. With the end of his fall, Mace Windu's life ends too.

15. Mace wakes in the light which he has chosen. The light which he has always chosen and which he will always choose. The dark of the world is behind him. Ahead, only light, warmth, and happiness remains. Each step into the warmth, leaving the dark world he’s lived in, is like coming home. He takes each step until he isn’t Mace anymore, not really. He is the light, he is the Force. Mace sighs and finally, he releases himself into the Force, into home. A thousand troubles, hundreds of sleepless, millions of deaths, countless memories of pain fade away until Mace is unburdened. Mace breathes in slowly, meditatively, and he steps into the light. As darkness falls, Mace steps into the light. And so ends Mace Windu.

#star wars fanfic #fanfiction #star wars #mace windu #mace windu appreciation #obi wan kenobi #depa billaba #pro jedi #jedi appreciation #pro jedi fic #duna writes

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proheromidoriyashouto · 2 years ago

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this is a betrayal akin to 9/11

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lochtayboatsong · 4 years ago

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The Jesus Christ Superstar essay absolutely no one asked for.

Last weekend, I watched the pro-shot of the 2012 arena tour of Jesus Christ Superstar starring Ben Forster, Tim Minchin, and Melanie C, because it was Easter and it was up on YT for the weekend. I never managed to do my annual listen-through of Leonard Bernstein’s Mass this year, as is my usual Easter tradition, so I figured “Why not watch/listen to this instead?” It was my first time seeing and hearing JCS in full, and Y’ALL, it has been living rent-free in my brain ever since. I have a mighty need to get my thoughts out, so here they are, in chronological order by song.

1) Prologue: I love the way JCS 2012 makes use of the arena video screen. The production design and concept clearly took a lot of inspiration from the “Occupy ______” movement, which makes it feel a bit dated now. But every single production of JCS is a product of its time period, so this is a feature and not a bug.

2) Heaven On Their Minds: This is a straight-up rock song. It wouldn’t be out of place on any rock and roll album released between 1970 and 2021, and it boggles my mind that Webber and Rice were both in their early twenties when they wrote it. Also, the lyric “You’ve begun to matter more than the things you say” hits hard no matter the year.

3) What’s the Buzz: A+ use of the arena screens again, this time bringing in social media to set the tone. Also, this song establishes right from the outset that Jesus is burnt out and T I R E D by this point in the story. Seriously, can we just let this man have a nap?

4) Strange Thing Mystifying: Judas publicly calls out Mary and Jesus claps back. Folx, get you a partner who will defend your honor the way Jesus defends MM in this scene. Also Jesus loses his shoes and is mostly barefoot for the remainder of the show.

5) Everything’s Alright: Okay, this is one of the songs I have A LOT to say about. First, it’s important to know that I was a church musician throughout all of my adolescence and into my early adulthood. The pianist at the services I usually played at was a top-notch jazz pianist, and also my piano teacher for about six years while I as in high school and undergrad. (Incidentally, I had a HUGE crush on his son, who was/is a jazz saxophonist and clarinetist and also played in the church band, but that’s a story for another day.) One of the hymns we played a few times a year was called “Sing of the Lord’s Goodness,” which is notable for being in 5/4 time. Whenever this hymn was on the schedule, it was usually the recessional, or the last song played as the clergy processed out and the congregation got ready to leave, so we were able to have some fun with it. After a couple verses the piano player and his son would usually morph it into “Take Five,” a famous jazz standard by Dave Brubeck which is also in 5/4 time. Anyway, the first time I listened to this song in full, it got to Judas’s line “People who are hungry, people who are starving,” and I sat bolt upright and went “HOLY SHIT THIS IS ‘SING OF THE LORD’S GOODNESS/TAKE FIVE.’” And I was ricocheted back in time to being fourteen and trying to keep up with this father/son duo in a cavernous Catholic church while simultaneously making heart-eyes at the son. Final note: This is the only song in the musical to feature all three leads (Jesus, Judas, and Mary Magdalene) and is mostly Jesus and MM being soft with each other in between bouts of Jesus and Judas snarling at one another.

6) This Jesus Must Die: I LOVE that all the villains in this production are in tailored suits. LOVE IT. Also, Caiaphas and Annas are a comedy duo akin to “the thin guy and the fat guy,” except in this case it’s “the low basso profundo and the high tenor.” Excellent use of the arena video screen again, this time as CCTV.

7) Hosanna: My background as a church musician strikes back again. It honestly took me two or three listens to catch it, but then I had another moment of sitting bolt upright and going “HOLY SHIT THIS IS A PSALM.” Psalms sung in church usually take the form of call-and-response, with a cantor singing the verses and the congregation joining in for the chorus. If I close my eyes during this song, I have no trouble imagining Jesus as a church cantor singing the verses and then bringing the congregation in for the “Ho-sanna, Hey-sanna” chorus.

8) Simon Zealotes: This is part “Gloria In Excelsis” and part over-the-top Gospel song. Honestly it’s not my favorite, but it marks an important mood change in the show. The end of “Hosanna” is probably Jesus at his happiest in the entire show, and then Simon comes in and sours the mood by trying to tip the triumphant moment into a violent one. Jesus is not truly happy again from this moment on.

9) Poor Jerusalem: Also not my fave. It kinda reads like Webber and Rice realized that Jesus didn’t have a solo aria in Act I, so they came up with this. But it has the distinction of containing the lyric, “To conquer death you only have to die,” which is the biggest overarching theme of the story.

10) Pilate’s Dream: Pontius Pilate might be the most underrated role in this entire show, and I love that this production has him singing this song while being dressed in judge’s robes.

11) The Temple: The first half of this is one of the campiest numbers in Act I, at least in this production, and it’s awesome. The second half is one of the saddest, as Jesus tries to heal the sick but finds there are too many of them. Also the whole scene is almost entirely in 7/8 time, which I think is just cool.

12) I Don’t Know How To Love Him: Mary Magdalene’s big aria, and one of the songs I knew prior to seeing the full-length show. This production has MM taking off her heavy lipstick and eye makeup onstage, mid-song, which is kind of cool. Melanie C says in a BTS interview that MM’s makeup is her armor, so this is a Big Symbolic Moment.

13) Damned For All Time: The scene transition into this song is played entirely in pantomime, and I love it. The solo guitarist gets to be onstage for a bit, A+ use of the video screen again to show Judas on CCTV, etc. Love it. And then this song is Judas frantically rationalizing what he’s doing, and what he’s about to do, with Caiphas and Annas just reacting with raised eyebrows and knowing looks.

14) Blood Money: This is where the tone of the show really takes a turn for the dark. I think this might be one of Tim Minchin’s finest moments as Judas, because his facial expressions and microexpressions throughout this scene speak absolute volumes. And the offstage chorus quietly singing “Well done Judas” as he picks up the money is a positively chilling way to end Act I.

15) The Last Supper: Act II begins with major “Drink With Me” vibes. (Except JCS came WAY before Les Miz, so it’s probably more accurate to say that “Drink With Me” has major “The Last Supper” vibes.) Jesus and Judas have their knock-down, drag-out fight, and it’s honestly heartbreaking, thanks again to Tim Minchin’s facial expressions. A well-done production of JCS will really convey that Jesus and Judas were once closer than brothers, even though their relationship is at breaking point when Act I begins.

16) Gethsemane: This is Jesus’s major showpiece and one of my faves. Jesus knows he has less than 24 hours to live, he knows he’s going to suffer, and worst of all, he doesn’t know whether it’s going to be worth it. It’s an emotional rollercoaster to watch and to perform, and it goes on for ages: something like 6 or 7 minutes. Fun fact: the famous G5 is not written in the score. Ian Gillan, who played Jesus on the original concept album, just sang it that way, so most subsequent Jesuses have also done it that way. Lindsay Ellis has a great supercut of this on YT. John Legend notably sang the line as written during the 2018 concert.

17) The Arrest: Judas’s Betrayer’s Kiss is played differently across different productions. The 2012 version is pretty tame - I’ve seen clips and gifs of other productions, including the 2000 direct-to-video version, where they kiss fully on the mouth and have to be dragged apart by the guards and it is THE MOST TENDER THING. Then the 7/8 riff from “The Temple” comes back and the 2012 version lets the video screen do its thing again as Jesus is swarmed by reporters.

18) Peter’s Denial: Not much to say about this one, as it’s basically a scene transition. But it’s a significant moment in the Passion story, so I’m glad they included it.

19) Pilate and Christ: The 2012 production continues with the theme of Caiaphas, Annas, and Pilate all being bougie af, since Pilate intentionally looks like he just came from tennis practice during this scene. Also he does pilates...hehehe.

20) King Herod’s Song: Tim Minchin says in a BTS interview that JCS works best when Jesus and Judas are played seriously and the rest of the production is allowed to be completely camp and wild and bizarre all around them, and he is bloody well CORRECT about that. Case in point: King Herod. There is not a single production of JCS that I know of where Herod is played “straight.” He’s been played by everyone from Alice Cooper to Jack Black, and everyone puts a different zany spin on him. In JCS 2012 he’s a chat show host in a red crushed velvet suit, who is clearly having the time of his LIFE.

21) Could We Start Again Please: This is another of my faves. Just a quiet moment where MM, Peter, and the disciples try to grapple with the fact that Jesus is arrested and things are going very, very badly. This is also my favorite Melanie C moment of the 2012 show. Her grief is very real, and the little moment she has with Peter at the end is very real.

22) Death of Judas: This is basically Tim Minchin screaming for about five minutes, and incredibly harrowing to watch on first viewing.

23) Trial Before Pilate: Possibly my single favorite scene in the entire 2012 production. This is another harrowing watch, but there’s so much to take in. The “set” that the entire show takes place on is essentially just a massive staircase, and the people with power are almost always positioned above the people without power. In this scene, the crowd shouting “Crucify Him!” is positioned above Pilate, which is a very telling clue to Pilate’s psychology during this scene. Jesus is at the very bottom of the stairs, of course. Excellent use of the video screen once again during the 39 Lashes, to show the lash marks building and building until the entire screen is a wash of red. Pilate’s counting also gets more and more frantic, especially starting around “20.” And all the while the guitar riff from “Heaven On Their Minds” is playing. Jesus’s line “Everything is fixed and you can’t change it” is played quite differently in different productions - here it’s defiant, but elsewhere (in JCS 2000 for example) it’s almost tender, like Jesus is absolving Pilate for his part in the trial. But it always ends the same - with Pilate almost screaming as he passes the sentence and “washes his hands” of the whole sorry business.

24) Superstar: The most over-the-top number in the show. Judas, who died two scenes ago, comes back to sing this. There are soul singers. There are girls in skimpy angel costumes. The parkour guys from the prologue are back. Judas pulls a tambourine out of hammerspace midway through the song. And Jesus is silently screaming and crying as he gets hoisted onto a lighting beam while all this is going on.

25) The Crucifixion: More of a spoken-word piece than a song, it’s Jesus’s final words on the cross over eerie piano music, and another harrowing watch.

26) John 19:41: An instrumental piece in which Jesus is taken from the cross and carried, at last, to the top of the stairs, before being lowered out of sight as the video screen turns into a memorial wall and everything fades to black.

So. I know I’m anywhere from three to fifty-one years late to this particular party, but I am on the JCS bandwagon now and I’m thoroughly enjoying myself. :)

#jesus christ superstar #jcs 2012 #jcs is all i have been thinking about all week sorry not sorry #ben forster #tim minchin #melanie c #andrew lloyd webber #tim rice

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cakesunflower · 5 years ago

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Quiet Hours [College!Luke AU] Ch. 15

Chapter 15

LUKE WAS ALL sorts of pissed off; the kind that had his jaw aching from clenching it so hard and hands perpetually formed into fists to prevent himself from punching something. He was familiar with this type of anger, the one that stemmed from betrayal and hurt that skipped right past being upset and festered in the stage of something akin to hatred. Luke never thought he could truly hate someone, but not for the first time he was debating against that idea when it came to the two people he was thinking about.

“Just don’t go,” Ashton shrugged, looking at Luke as if he didn’t understand what the big deal was. “Then you won’t have to see them.”

Luke shot his friend an aggravated look. “It’s my nan’s seventy-fifth birthday, Ashton. I have to go.” If he didn’t love his grandmother so much, Luke would just spend the weekend on campus instead of going home to celebrate with his family—which included his cousin Max and Luke’s ex—and Max’s current—girlfriend Gwen. He was in no mood to see the two of them flaunt a relationship that was created at the expense of Luke’s heartbreak.

“Take someone with you as your date,” Michael suggested from where he sat at the kitchen counter, busy on his laptop as he did an assignment. He then glanced up, looking at Luke, who sat on the couch. “And by someone I mean Ophelia.”

Glancing at his friend, Luke furrowed his eyebrows at Michael’s proposition. Propping his right elbow on the armrest of the couch, Luke used his fingers to worry at his lower lip as he thought about the idea. It wasn’t a terrible idea to bring Ophelia to the party, but introducing her to his family seemed to be a bit too soon, especially since they only just figured things out to be together. He didn’t want to use her as a way of spiting Max and Gwen to show that he was fine after what happened. He didn’t miss Gwen, by any means, but he was still pissed. Still hurt.

Ophelia didn’t even know about Luke’s ex, Gwen, cheating on him with his own cousin and Luke didn’t want to just tell her so she would come with him just to show the two people that betrayed him that he was better off—even if he was. Luke wasn’t comfortable with using Ophelia in that type of way, but maybe if he told her then she wouldn’t be offended. She’d understand.

So that’s why Luke was now knocking on the apartment door next to his, smiling as the door swung open to reveal Laurel. He was glad to see she was okay after what happened at the party a few days ago, and the pain in his knuckles that had followed was worth it. “Hey,” he greeted the blonde. “Is Ophelia here?”

Laurel opened the door wider, nodding inside the apartment. “She’s in her room,” she chuckled, earning a thanks from Luke as he wandered in and heard Laurel shut the door behind him. He waved at Tanya, who was munching on a bag of Cheetos as she watched The Bachelor on TV, before wandering down the hall and stopping in front of Ophelia’s closed door.

He knocked twice, hearing her call out, “come in,” before opening the door and stepping inside the familiar bedroom. Luke saw Ophelia laying sideways on her bed, watching something on her laptop. When her eyes landed on Luke, she paused her show and sat up. “Hey,” she smiled, crossing her legs.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Luke greeted, shutting the door behind him. The blinds were open, sunlight streaming in and drenching the small plants on the windowsill. “You busy? Wanted to ask you something.”

Ophelia shook her head, tilting it to the side curiously. “What’s going on?”

The Australian sat down on the bed, sliding off his slippers to sit cross legged right in front of her. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous. Ophelia was one of the sweetest people Luke knew, and if he explained himself he was sure she’d understand. “Okay, um,” he began, clearing his throat as fingers absently twirled one of his rings. “I have to go home this weekend for my grandma’s birthday and, uh.” He stopped briefly, but the encouraging raise of Ophelia’s eyebrows prompted him to continue, “my ex is gonna be there with my cousin and I was hoping you’d come with me because I just—I don’t wanna deal with them, y’know?”

Ophelia blinked at Luke, hazel eyes slightly widened in shock. Then, she blurted, “your ex is dating your cousin?”

Luke didn’t blame her expression as a humorless smile tilted at his lips. “Cheated on me with him, actually.”

This time her jaw dropped, completely taken aback. Honestly, she genuinely didn’t understand how or why someone would cheat on Luke. Other than him being confusing at times, Luke was a great guy to be around. It was no secret that Ophelia adored him; adored him as a person and was obsessed with the way he looked at, kissed, and touched her. To Ophelia, Luke was unfairly perfect, if she didn’t consider the mess it had been for the two of them to acknowledge their feelings—though she could be partly blamed for that too—so why someone would cheat on him was beyond her. Luke had Ophelia entranced by just his gaze, feeling excitedly powerless against him in the most enjoyable of ways, so leaving him for someone else sounded ridiculous.

She was also kind of flattered that Luke wanted her to come with him. The most they’d done was confess to each other that they wanted to be together—did that mean they were together? Ophelia wasn’t sure, but she found herself kind of okay with that. Because she told Luke she wanted to be with him after he’d told her the same, and with assurance, that was enough for now. Ophelia figured that Luke asking her to come with him was to distract himself from watching his ex-girlfriend be all over his cousin, and a nagging voice in the back of her mind wondered if there were still unresolved feelings on Luke’s part.

But the hopeful expression on his face, the way he chewed his lower lip and blue eyes seemed a bit worried, had Ophelia giving Luke a small smile as she shrugged. “Yeah, sure, I’ll come,” she finally said, watching as Luke’s eyes widened slightly.

“Really?” he questioned, brows risen. He hadn’t really expected for her to say yes right away—not that he was complaining. As soon as her answer had registered in his mind, Luke felt his heart do an excited leap. “I—you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to think I’m usin’ you to make my ex jealous or anything. It’s just that I don’t wanna show up alone and her be—”

“Luke, stop,” Ophelia cut him off with an airy laugh, finding it endearing how he was suddenly a nervous rambling mess. While she was still trying to work out if Luke had any feelings left for this ex of his—and bitterly hoping that he didn’t because that would kind of suck—Ophelia felt a small sense of relief at his reassurance. He looked genuine in the matter. “I don’t mind. No offense, but your ex sounds like a bitch and your cousin a dick for doing that to you. I’m happy to go with you.”

She felt her heart do that giddy flutter in her chest at the sight of the relieved smile that stretched on Luke’s lips, dimples appearing under the dark blonde facial hair that decorated his sharp jaw and around his mouth as his hands reached forward and grasped hers gratefully. “Thank you, darling,” he breathed out, squeezing Ophelia’s smaller hands. “You’ve no idea how much this means to me. I swear I’ll make it up to you when it’s over.”

Ophelia’s lips pressed together, the corners of her mouth tilting upwards as she grabbed her laptop and reached over to rest it on her bedside, eyes meeting Luke’s. Her smile turned slightly coy, hand that was still holding onto Luke’s as she used it to tug him closer. “You can start now,” she suggested boldy with a quirk of a brow, her smile widening as Luke mirrored her expression, not even hesitating to lean towards her as he immediately picked up on what she was saying.

A low, throaty chuckle escape Luke, though it was silenced the second Ophelia’s hands grasped Luke’s face and pulled his lips to hers, feeling the familiar thrilling shock course through her body as his soft lips met hers. Luke smiled against her mouth, never tired of kissing Ophelia as he got on his knees and grasped the back of Ophelia’s, using his grip to unfold her legs and pull her towards him. She effectively slid down, left hand going to the back of Luke’s neck as she laid down on the mattress and pulled Luke on top of her. Her heart rang in her ears and her body grew warm in excitement as Luke deepened the kiss, feeling his tongue against hers and the ends of his curly hair tickle her face as he hovered above her.

As he kissed her, hands sliding under her shirt and prompting Ophelia’s heart to skip a beat at the feel of his cool rings against her warmed skin, Luke couldn’t help but notice the change of taste in her lips. “Changed your watermelon chapstick for strawberry, huh?” Luke murmured against her mouth, supporting himself on top of her with his arms as he trailed open mouthed kisses along her jaw.

Ophelia let out a breathless laugh, eyes shut as she reveled in the scratch of his beard against her skin, fingers threading through Luke’s curly locks. “Yeah,” she whispered, heart thudding rapidly in her chest as she felt Luke lightly bite at the spot that connected her jaw and neck, “you like it?”

“Mhm,” Luke let out a deep hum, bringing his mouth back to cover Ophelia’s, licking at her lower lip as he smirked, “love strawberries,” before grasping the hem of her shirt and tugging it upwards.

Ophelia grinned, a pretty flush across her face that made Luke’s heart drum thuddingly as she leaned up slightly to allow Luke to fling it right off of her. The immediate tightening in his sweatpants could be felt against Ophelia’s clothed core as Luke let out a deep breath, blue eyes trained on her bare chest as his hands immediately came up to grasp her full breasts. “No bra?” he smirked, watching in satisfaction as Ophelia arched into his touch, eyes closed and sharp breath expelling from her parted pouty lips. Luke leaned down, keeping his gaze trained on Ophelia’s pleasured expression as he let his lower lip drag against her perky pink nipple, mumbling, “you’re too good to me, pretty girl.”

The way her head tilted back, exposing the expanse of her neck as a soft moan escaped her begged Luke to get rid of his sweatpants as soon as possible. But he took his time, wrapping his lips around her nipple while his right hand ever so slightly squeezed the soft plush of her other breast. One of Ophelia’s hands were at the back of his head, fingers gripping his curls while her other pushed back her own hair from her forehead and teeth sunk to her lower lip to stop any sounds from escaping. Her roommates were still in the apartment, after all.

“Come on, Luke,” Ophelia finally breathed out, her voice uncharacteristically raspy from the pleasure his mouth and hand were delivering to her chest. Luke watched as she opened her eyes, hazel eyes darkened with pleasure as she begged, “get down to it already, please.”

Luke wasn’t one to deny her what she wanted, though when he lifted his head he kept his lips wrapped around Ophelia’s nipple, teasing it lightly with his teeth. Ophelia dropped her head back, muttering a soft, “oh, God,” as Luke smirked to himself before sliding down even more, letting his fingers hook into the band of her night shorts and pull it down her legs as he went.

Luke let out a throaty groan when he realized Ophelia was completely naked in front of him and completely ready for whatever Luke was about to do to her. But Luke couldn’t help but stop for a moment, sitting on his knees at the sight of the breathtakingly gorgeous girl laying on the bed. Whether she was naked, in sweats or dressed up—Ophelia managed to take Luke’s breath away and cease the beating of his heart in half a second. She was flawless in his eyes, and Luke found himself wondering how he got lucky enough to have someone like her interested in him.

When Ophelia let out another small whimper, Luke was thrown back into reality and he instantly reached to the back of his shirt, taking it off and discarding it somewhere on the floor before pulling of his sweatpants. The room was slightly cold, but goosebumps had no chance of raising on his skin at the brilliant heat he felt spreading throughout his body at the sight of Ophelia and the anticipated thrill of being inside of her in a matter of moments.

“Wait,” Ophelia suddenly said, reluctantly leaning up on her elbows and reaching over to pull open her bedside drawer. Luke watched, eyes following the lines and curves of her gorgeous body, before Ophelia tossed the royal blue packet towards him. He caught it, mentally berating himself for forgetting the condom as he used his teeth to rip open the corner of the packet.

His gaze was fixated on Ophelia, her chest rising and falling in eagerness while she watched through a hooded gaze as Luke slid the condom on, a hiss escaping pass his teeth at the feel of the latex. Luke leaned to hover over Ophelia once more, right arm supporting him once more as his left hand lined his shaft up to her awaiting entrance. Their hearts were thundering, which was ironic because they’ve done this a number of times yet the thrilled beating of their hearts and the dizzy pleasure they got in their heads never ceased.

Luke’s head was above hers, curly hair curtaining his cheeks as Ophelia’s right hand reached up to push it back, fingers tangled in and their breaths mingling together as Luke’s blue eyes locked with her hazel. “Ready, sweetheart?”

Ophelia nodded quickly, humming her agreement after hearing Luke’s words over the pounding in her ears, though she still felt the smile twitch at her lips. It immediately disappeared, replaced by her eyes shutting and lips parting with a quiet moan as Luke entered her swiftly, familiarly, his guttural groan joining in with the sweet sounds she was making as his forehead dropped to rest against Ophelia’s. “Fuck,” he rasped, unsure if he would ever get used to the way she felt around him, so ready and so fucking amazing, eyes squeezing shut. “Feel so good, pretty girl,” he couldn’t help but add, pulling out just a bit after she nodded in approval before jutting his hips forward once more, swallowing the moan that escaped Ophelia by pressing his lips to hers.

The movements of his hips meeting hers were slow, purposeful, and Ophelia’s arms looped under Luke’s, pulling him down on her and nails scraping down his muscled back that had yet another deep groan sounding from Luke’s throat. Their lips moved together bruisingly, every sense filled with each other as their bare chests pressed together while their tongues met. Ophelia felt that familiar overwhelmness she felt every time she and Luke were joined together so intimately, incredulous at how dizzyingly fantastic it felt to have him fill her up so completely. Every thrust had her heart threatening to burst out of her chest, and every whispered encouragement from Luke intensified the warmth on her face and prompted even more quiet moans of Luke’s name to spill from her lips.

It wasn’t long until both of them could feel the recognizable clenching in the pits of their stomachs, Ophelia’s legs that had wrapped around Luke’s hips to deepen the feel of him beginning to shake as he effectively brought her closer to the edge. “Oh, God, Luke,” Ophelia groaned against his mouth, their lips pink and swollen from the kisses they refused to end. “I’m gon—”

Their noses brushed together, Luke not letting up from the thrusts of his hips into Ophelia’s as her nails on his back egged him on, heart thumping and ring clad fingers clenching the bed sheets next to her head. “Let go for me, sweetheart,” Luke croaked, accent thickening as he buried his face in the crook of Ophelia’s neck. He breathed in her familiar fruity scent as her hands pressed against his back at the feel of his beard scraping her skin. The tension that had built up in their bodies finally released explosively as Ophelia’s back arched and teeth clamped on the skin of Luke’s shoulder.

Both of their bodies pulsed shakily, heavy breaths and moans they attempted to keep quiet falling past their lips as head spinning orgasms igniting their skin yet slowly loosened the tightness of their limbs. Once spent, the room full of the sounds of their heavy breathing, Luke found himself laying on top of Ophelia, still inside her yet not being able to bring it in himself to move just yet. Ophelia didn’t mind, eyes closed and a blissfully pleased smile tilting at her lips as her hands remained on Luke’s back. “Just so you know,” she found herself speaking, her voice still a whisper as she tried to catch her breath. “I still expect a little something after the weekend.”

Luke’s broad shoulders shook as a deep chuckle rumbled, face still buried in her neck as Ophelia felt his lips press a kiss at the skin there. “Absolutely,” he murmured back, before his arms slid around her bare back to swiftly flip them on the bed, earning a startled yelp from Ophelia as she was now suddenly on top—with Luke still inside of her.

They got rid of the used condom, throwing it in the trash as Ophelia remained laying on top of Luke, bringing her blanket up to cover their bare, spent bodies. She felt so small against his broad chest, laying with her cheek pressed against it as she felt the tips of his fingers lightly trail down the expanse of her back, the soothing gesture along with the thrum of his heartbeat making her eyes flutter closed. Ophelia smiled sleepily—she definitely wasn’t going to get tired of sex with Luke.

*******

Luke’s mother was the sweetest woman Ophelia had ever met. From the moment Luke and Ophelia showed up at the doorstep of his home, Liz Hemmings was all smiles as she hugged and kissed her son before greeting Ophelia with a motherly hug as well. She then had one of Luke’s older brothers, Ben, take her bag upstairs to the guest room before dragging Ophelia into the kitchen, asking if she wanted anything to eat.

Ophelia and Luke were the first to arrive at his house, and since his home was a near three hour drive from campus, the two were spending the night instead of making a total of a six hour trip in one day. Her stuff was in the guest room, much to the disappointment of Luke, but Ophelia didn’t mind—sharing a bed with Luke lately ended up in sex and Ophelia didn’t think it was a good idea to do that with Luke’s family under the same roof.

“Your mom’s adorable,” Ophelia commented once she joined Luke in the backyard, where the party was mostly set up. It was November but it was still warm enough on this particular day to have an outdoor party—Ophelia would fight anyone who said climate change wasn’t a real thing. “She’s into photography?”

She had noticed the Nikon camera the blonde woman had hanging from her neck, one hand almost always on it as if she was always prepared to take a picture. Luke chuckled, ripping open a bag of Tostitos and emptying it out in a bowl on one of the lawn tables that were set up outside. “When she’s not teaching math, she’s taking pictures,” he nodded in confirmation as he crumpled up the bag in his hands. “She’s pretty good, too.”

“Does she do it professionally?” Ophelia asked, hugging her cardigan closer to her as a light breeze blew past. It was warm out, but the occasional wind rose goosebumps on her skin.

“On the side, yeah,” Luke nodded, glancing over Ophelia’s shoulder as his older brother Jack walked out and towards a Bluetooth speaker set up on the side, connecting his phone before a Duran Duran song began playing. “Oi, Jack, when’s everyone gettin’ here?”

“Aunt Penny and the others just got here,” Jack responded, shooting Ophelia a friendly grin before going back inside the house.

Turning to look back at Luke, Ophelia raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a lot of family in the States?” she asked, a question she had been wondering about but never really prodded Luke on. He was Australian, obviously, but she didn’t know that he had lots of relatives here in New Jersey.

“My dad’s side, yeah,” Luke told her as he led her across the yard towards the backdoor. “He grew up in America and wanted to go to uni in Sydney so he moved back, met Mum, and then when I was five we moved here.”

“Your accent’s pretty thick for someone who grew up in America,” Ophelia teased, feeling her heart flutter happily as Luke draped his right arm over her shoulders to pull her closer as they walked.

Luke chuckled, left hand running through his curls as his boots thudded more heavily than Ophelia’s as they got to the porch. “Spent a lot of my vacations back in Aus, since Mum’s side of the family’s still there.”

Entering the house—Ophelia enjoyed the delicious smells of food inside—the two of them caught sight of a couple being greeted by Luke’s parents, as well as two young children running down the hall, squeals of laughter escaping them as they each latched onto Luke’s legs. “Wh—hey!” Luke laughed as Ophelia stepped to the side, a smile growing on her face as Luke bent down slightly to ruffle the tops of the two kids’ heads. Both blonde, one boy and one girl as they cutely grinned up at Luke. He mirrored their expression, blue eyes lighting up happily as he mused, “how’re you doin’, kiddos?”

“I missed you, Luke,” Luke’s eight year old cousin, Holly, smiled up at him as she and her twin brother, Jake, finally let go of Luke’s legs to let him stand properly.

“Yeah,” Jake piped up excitedly, and Ophelia crossed her arms over her chest as she watched them with a smile tugging on her lips. “You gonna play your guitar for us?” he then asked, and Ophelia noticed that unlike their older cousin, the two little kids were American—which, she figured, wasn’t surprising.

Luke chuckled, ruffling the little boy’s hair once more. “Maybe later, buddy,” he relented.

“Who are you?” Ophelia blinked at the sudden question directed towards her, eyes landing on Holly who was peering up at her with curious brown eyes, head tilted to the side.

Her brother looked up at Ophelia as well, both of them looking expectant as Ophelia’s lips parted, slightly taken aback at the sudden attention the two of them were giving her. Fortunately, Luke quickly swooped in, grinning, “this is my friend, Ophelia.” Crouching down to his knees, Luke put his arms around either of the twins’ shoulders, smiling up at the girl who was most definitely more than just a friend as he introduced, “Ophelia, these are my cousins Holly and Jake.”

“Hi,” Ophelia smiled at them, offering a small wave at the two children who easily returned her grin.

“Luke! Come say hi to Penny and Darrel!” Luke’s mother’s voice sounded, and the twenty-one year old ushered his younger cousins off to the backyard before meeting Ophelia’s gaze and nodded his head towards the front of the house, a silent request for her to follow him.

Luke’s aunt and uncle were gathered in the kitchen with his parents, immediately and excitedly pulling Luke into a hug as loud chatter filled the room. Ophelia stood idly, awkwardly by, making conversation with Jack’s girlfriend Celeste until Ophelia heard Luke’s aunt say, “oh, is that your girlfriend?”

Unable to help herself, Ophelia glanced where Luke stood with his aunt and uncle, taking it as her cue to introduce herself as she offered a smile. “Oh, uh,” Luke fumbled, earning quizzical looks from the two adults as Ophelia pressed her lips together. Luke’s blue eyes then met Ophelia’s hazel, and she saw something flash in his. There was a gentle look of realization that fluttered across his features, before a smile quirked at his lips and he looked back at his aunt and uncle. “Yeah, she is.”

What they were to each other wasn’t something Luke and Opehlia had discussed, but to hear him put a label on it had Ophelia’s heart jumping right into her throat. Whether it was officially or not, Ophelia felt a sense of relief flood through her at the thought that being his girlfriend was something Luke wanted.

Even if her presence at Luke’s house was mostly to be by his side whenever his cousin and ex-girlfriend showed up, Ophelia was glad to be there. Sure, she hadn’t really expected to meet his family already, but there was a warm contentment that engulfed her being in Luke’s home with him. So she smiled at each and every relative of Luke’s that arrived, more than happy to meet them. Especially his grandmother, who they were celebrating today, and Ophelia loved that the small woman was lively as ever. Particularly when she had Luke bend down so she could reach up and pinch his cheeks like he was a ten year old.

Most of the guests had arrived by three, the music playing through the speaker as they all gathered outside. Luke’s father was manning the grill and if people weren’t eating the hot dogs and burgers being made on that then they were munching on the different pastas, mashed potatoes, and other foods laid out. Luke’s dad had two brothers and a sister, so they were all here with their spouses and kids, the yard full of people chattering and having a good time—and every introduction included Luke telling them that Ophelia was his girlfriend.

The smile that pulled at her lips wasn’t something she could ever hope to stop when the word left his lips. She never missed the brightness in his blue eyes, either.

“Oh, Max, you’re here!” Luke’s aunt Hilarie exclaimed, catching Ophelia’s attention as she lowered her can of Coke and looked towards the woman. Hilarie was hugging a blonde boy, another girl standing on his other side that Ophelia couldn’t quite see as Hilarie continued, “I thought you’d never make it.”

“Sorry, Mom,” the boy, Max, laughed lightly, and Ophelia immediately blinked in realization as the name sunk in her mind. Her eyes darted around the yard, no longer paying attention to the conversation she was in with Celeste and another one of Luke’s aunts, before they finally landed on the boy she was looking for.

Ophelia’s grip tightened on her can nervously, conscious of the nearly empty plate of food she was balancing on her lap, as she caught sight of the look on Luke’s face. He may be standing on the other side of the yard, but she could make out thinning of his lips and furrow between his eyebrows, gaze fixated on the newly arrived people. It was them; the cousin and the ex-girlfriend, and Ophelia wondered if she should go over to Luke to distract him in some way. That’s what she was there for, right?

“Luke, dude! Haven’t seen you in a while, man!” Max’s voice rung out, and Ophelia blinked in mild alarm as the new guy wandered over to Luke, casual and calm as if nothing was wrong.

Unable to help herself, Ophelia’s eyes wandered towards the girl following Max, feeling insecurity tightening her throat at the leggy, dark skinned girl with shiny, straightened hair that made Ophelia’s nicely French braided one look like a bird’s nest. The girl, whom Ophelia knew to be Gwen, was gorgeous and Ophelia understood why Luke would ever date her. By looks alone, this girl was a stunner.

Though, Ophelia tried to make herself feel better because if Gwen left her boyfriend for her boyfriend’s cousin, then that doesn’t say many good things about the kind of person she was.

“Oh, God,” Ophelia heard Celeste mutter, the younger girl looking towards the dirty blonde haired woman, surprised to see Celeste staring towards Luke in apprehension. “I hope Luke doesn’t take a swing at Max again. Nan’s gonna be pissed if they ruin her birthday.”

Ophelia was taken aback, brows rising slightly as she asked, “Luke and Max fought before?”

Celeste turned her body to face Ophelia, Aunt Leslie now having a conversation with Liz, as she nodded. “Oh, yeah,” Celeste informed, hazel eyes widening like she was confiding a big secret. She wrung her fingers together as she continued, “when we all went to Aunt Hilarie’s house for Thanksgiving last year and Luke saw that Gwen was there as Max’s date, shit hit the fan. Luke broke Max’s nose, he was so pissed off. And rightfully so!” Celeste shook her head, face scrunching in distaste as her eyes locked with Ophelia’s. “You ask me, Gwen’s not worth it. She cheated on Luke to be with Max—I wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up cheating on him, too.”

Ophelia pressed her lips together, processing Celeste’s words as she straightened her back in the plastic lawn chair she was occupying. Truthfully, Ophelia wasn’t surprised that Luke punched out his cousin, but a little ball of dread did form in the pit of her stomach at the thought of it possibly happening again today. She may have only been here for a couple of hours, but Ophelia already adored Luke’s grandmother—and, God, she adored Luke, too. That being said, she didn’t want this day being spoiled by Luke and his cousin throwing fists at each other.

“I think Luke’s calling you.”

Blinking at Celeste in confusion, Ophelia followed the older girl’s gaze as she nodded forward, and Ophelia’s lips parted slightly in realization as she caught sight of Luke looking right at her. Even from the distance, she noticed the pleading look on his face, and Ophelia immediately stood up and excused herself from Celeste, putting her plate on the chair before crossing the yard and making her way over to the three people standing near the hammock Luke’s younger cousins were swinging on.

Luke felt relief course through him as Ophelia approached, replacing some of the irritation and frustration he had been feeling the second Max and Gwen had stepped into the backyard. Only a single thought had entered Luke’s mind the second he saw Gwen; he couldn’t stand her. Any positive feelings he had towards the girl were now gone, instead replaced with a screaming reminder of what she had done. Fortunately, Luke knew subjecting himself to having feelings for someone capable of cheating on another person would just make him look like a dumbass, and it was a good thing he didn’t feel for her what he used to.

He was pulled out of his thoughts once Ophelia neared them, coming to stand to Luke’s right as he watched a smile pull at her pretty pink lips, one that he recognized as her faux sweet one. “Hi,” Ophelia greeted in a friendly tone, cheekbones prominent as both Max and Gwen’s gazes snapped to the brunette at Luke’s side. “You must be Max and Gwen, right?” She didn’t wait for a response, sliding her left arm around Luke’s waist, the taller boy allowing her to pull him closer as she continued, “I’m Ophelia, Luke’s girlfriend.”

Luke stared down at her in a mixture of awe and amusement. She looked completely at ease, a glint in her eyes that was equal parts mischievous and contemptuous. The smile effortlessly tugged on Luke’s lips as Ophelia’s gaze flickered up to meet his, green eyes bright under the afternoon sun and gleaming in mischief before looking at the two people in front of them.

Max smiled at her politely, and Ophelia noticed that like Luke, he had blue eyes that accompanied his blonde hair, though Ophelia easily preferred the taller boy standing next to her. Luke’s own arm casually wrapped around Ophelia’s shoulders, his body relaxing being so close to her.

“Oh,” Gwen returned, her hand sliding down Max’s arm to grip his hand, a smile stretching on her full lips that Luke knew to be as fake as Ophelia’s. “It’s nice to meet you, Ophelia.”

Luke was trying desperately to keep his lips from forming a smirk, unsurprised that Gwen’s reaction of false politeness went completely over Max’s head. While he didn’t hold any feelings for her anymore, Luke still could read Gwen the way he used to be able to, and he was going to use it to his advantage to provoke a reaction out of the fake bitch—not a word he liked using towards a woman, but there was no harm saying it in his head. Especially towards Gwen. Ophelia was more than happy to help.

“Yeah, you too,” Ophelia nodded, hand on Luke’s back under the leather jacket he wore, feeling the soft material of his shirt under her palm as she added sweetly, “Luke’s told me lots about you guys.”

The uncomfortable expressions on Gwen and Max’s faces threatened a smug smirk to curl at Luke’s lips. His anger towards the two of them made him want to make them feel as uncomfortable as he could manage, and clearly Ophelia was on board with that. God knows Ophelia would’ve blown a gasket if her ex dated her cousin that they cheated on her with. It was just wrong.

Fortunately, Luke’s mother called everyone towards one of the circular tables that was pulled in front of Luke’s grandmother, placing the sheet cake in front of the older woman so she could blow out her candles and cut it. Everyone gathered around as Luke’s grandmother held the knife, his grandfather right by her side as Liz snapped pictures of everyone singing happy birthday to the seventy-five year old woman.

As they sang and clapped, Ophelia’s eyes flickered across the round table where Gwen was standing next to Max, and though the girl’s lips were moving to sing happy birthday, her gaze wasn’t fixated on the blonde to her left—rather, she was focused on the blonde next to Ophelia. “You know, if I didn’t know any better,” Ophelia spoke up quietly, hands still clapping as she leaned her head towards Luke. The taller boy leaned down slightly to his right, stopping his singing, though mouthing along, to listen to Ophelia’s low tone while keeping his gaze on his grandmother. “I’d think that Gwen still has some type of feelings for you.”

Luke blinked, expression morphing into one of weirded out incredulity as the singing turned into loud cheers, everyone clapping as Nan cut the cake. Luke clapped along, but he looked at Ophelia in bewilderment. “What?”

She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest after she finished clapping and the sounds of Luke’s family members clamouring over his grandmother filled her ears. “She keeps looking at you like you’re a piece of meat and she hasn’t eaten in days,” Ophelia murmured, scoffing slightly with a slight shake of her head as she tore her gaze away from the other girl, meeting Luke’s eyes. Lowering her voice even more, Ophelia whispered conspiratorially, “a girl only looks at a guy like that if she wants to get dicked down.”

Luke pressed his lips together, stifling the snort of laughter threatening to blow past as they dispersed from around the table, walking further down the yard as he looked down at Ophelia disbelievingly. “Are you serious?” he said, allowing a short laugh to escape as the two of them settled on sitting on the grass, leaning back against the tall wooden fence that surrounded the yard. “Sweetheart, Gwen doesn’t want to get dicked down by me.”

Ophelia suppressed the smile from growing on her lips at Luke’s repetition of her words, finding him saying them somewhat amusing as she crossed her legs. The floral romper she wore allowed for the occasional goosebumps on her legs whenever there was a gust of wind, and now her bare skin was being tickled by the grass they sat on.

The yard was full of the light hum of everyone chattering, mixed in with laughter and music playing and it felt nice to Ophelia. She had just met these people only hours before, but she felt comfortable around all of them. Eyes wandering around, they landed on Gwen once more before she let out a breathy laugh and glanced at Luke. “Yeah?” she responded to his statement, watching as he turned his head to look at her with a quirk of his brow. “Then why hasn’t she taken her eyes off of you since she got here?”

Luke frowned, looking away and to where Gwen was. When his blue eyes met her dark brown ones across the yard, Ophelia noticed the way Luke’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat before his frown deepened and he looked back at Ophelia, stretching his jean clad legs out in front of him and lacing his ring clad fingers together on his lap. Ophelia couldn’t help the bit of relief at the sight of Luke looking completely turned off and disgruntled by Gwen’s gaze. “She care stare all she wants,” Luke said, “doesn’t mean she’ll get anything in return.”

He tilted his head back, leaning it against the fence and eyes going skyward, and Ophelia couldn’t help but keep staring at him. Luke closed his eyes as a gust of wind blew at their faces, tousling his curls, and Ophelia’s own eyes followed the curve of his nose, the fullness of his lower lip and the sharp line of his jaw, before having to look away quickly as suddenly images of his facial hair scratching her neck from last night began flashing through her mind.

Ophelia let out a breath. This was gonna be a long day.

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sebastbu · 5 years ago

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My Top 40 Movies of the Decade

***just my opinion***this list is not set in stone either***

1. 12 Years A Slave (2013)

What Steve McQueen has managed to do with this movie in nothing short of the best thing art is capable of. He takes the horror of humanity and turns it into a heart shattering tale of the best of humanity. A film that could have sunk easily among the brutality it contains, instead soars with Solomon’s survival. It is one of the most life-affirming, uplifting works of art I’ve ever seen. It makes you cry, it makes you shout, it makes you cheer, it makes you breathless. In short, all the things movies are best at. Not just a definitive movie, but a definitive work of art.

2. The Act of Killing (2012)

This has my vote for the best documentary film of all time. What begins as a transfixing profile of the mass murders responsible for the 1965 Indonesian genocide quickly transforms into a Brechtian nightmare as director Joshua Oppenheimer somehow convinces these men to stage scenes for a fake movie reenacting their crimes. As the film progresses you can hardly believe what you’re witnessing. Horrifying, yet you can’t look away. Oppenheimer holds your attention for every second. What’s captured for film here is truly unique, ground-breaking, soul shaking. A statement about the banality of evil as profound as Ardent’s essays.

3. The Tree of Life (2011)

Malick has reached his final form here. An organic art form, pure cinema, visual poetry, whatever you want to call it. Nothing but a movie could be this. The images he crafts here are as close to a religious experience as I’ve ever had watching a movie, and probably ever will. In exploring childhood memories, Malick’s style perfectly matches his subject manner. He use of ellipsis and fluidity mirrors the way memories flash through our heads. It is as if we are witnessing memory directly, unfiltered. This movie will move you in ways you didn’t know a movie could.

4. The Social Network (2010)

That Facebook movie? Hell yeah that facebook movie. What Fincher and Sorkin have managed to do is take what could be a standard biopic, or dull tech movie, and made it into an epic tale of betrayal, greed, friendship, coming of age, and identity. Ross and Reznor’s score pulses, as does the dialogue. This movie starts the instant you press play and it doesn’t let you catch your breath for one second until the very end. Endlessly quotable, perfected acted. A masterclass.

5. The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)

What can I say about this movie? Every shot is perfect. Every joke, beat, pan, zoom. Well, I guess I’ll say this. This movie disarms with its charm, its facade. But at its heart is a wrenching tale of loss, nostalgia, and the fleeting nature of everything, especially those we love. A jewel of a film. Anderson makes sure you’re cozy and then pulls the rug out from under you, and suddenly you’re crying.

6. The Master (2012)

Career best performances from Joaquin Phoenix and Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Lushly shot. Greenwood delivers another ground breaking score. PTA has made an aimless film about aimless characters that nevertheless is riveting. At the end, you may not know exactly how far you’ve progressed, but you’re sure glad you went on the journey.

7. Drive (2011)

This is not an action movie. It’s a love story. The now famous dream pop soundtrack. Ryan Gosling doing so much with so little. Refn’s breathtaking cinematography. Diluted dreams. Crushed hopes. Silent gazes, filled with more emotion than dialogue could ever render.

8. The Revenant (2015)

An achievement of pure cinematic insanity. I still have no idea how they got some of these shots. A brutal, thrilling story of survival among nature’s cruelty. Inarritu’s camera is like magic in this film, uncovering the previously thought not possible.

9. La La Land (2016)

A reinvention of a genre that somehow manages to have its cake and eat it too: a nostalgia trip that also subverts expectations. Right up there next to Singin’ in the Rain, in my book at least. How on earth was that only Chazelle’s second ever movie?

10. The Lighthouse (2019)

TELL ME YE FOND O ME LOBSTER! WHYD YA SPILL YOUR BEANS? IF I HAD A STEAK ID FUCK IT. That about sums it up.

11. Parasite (2019)

Bong Joon Ho has made a beautifully twisted psychological thriller that is also hilarious, touching, and a lasting commentary on class and social mobility.

12. The Florida Project (2017)

Baker’s approach of setting this story from the viewpoint of children makes it a glorious romp through a world of innocence as well as tragedy, and also makes it all the more emotionally impactful.

13. Inside Llewyn Davis (2013)

It’s all about the cat. Alongside the Coen’s mastery of dialogue and the side character, as well as the beautiful folk music, this film acts as a deeply moving portrayal of depression, and how sometimes we are our own worst enemy.

14. Moonlight (2016)

Expertly crafted. Expertly acted. Expertly shot. A gorgeously rendered coming of age story. I’m not really the person who should speak of its importance. I’ll just say: it is. Very. A movie that will stun you.

15. Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

Practical! Effects! Yeah, that really is Tom Hardy swinging fifty feet off the ground on a pole as explosions go off behind him. A feminist, post-apocalypse, road trip movie brought to you by the director of Happy Feet and Babe 2. What more could you want?

16. Moonrise Kingdom (2012)

A wonderful celebration of childhood and of fantasy. Anderson crafts a world you want to return to again and again. Anyone else get jump scared when they realized Lucas Hedges was in this???

17. Arrival (2016)

I love Denis Villeneuve’s films for so many reasons. The most important I think is that he balances entertainment and artistic depth so well. Like all great scifi Arrival is not really about aliens, it’s about us.

18. Inception (2010)

A film that runs on all cyclinders. Smart, funny, jaw dropping, just plain fun. Nolan manages to build some surprisingly moving moments as well.

19. Gone Girl (2014)

Ah Fincher and his twists. Rosemund Pike at the top of her game. Ross and Reznor return with another gripping score. Around the narrative, Fincher creates a fascinating portrayal of the media and marriage, one with endless twists and turns. You never quite know where it’s headed.

20. Sicario (2015)

A second thing I love about Dennis Villeneuve: he does point of view characters better than anyone else.

21. Enemy (2014)

A third thing I love about Dennis Villeneuve: he plays with genre and narrative structure unlike anyone else working right now.

22. Incendies (2010)

A fourth thing I love about Denis Villeneuve: he’s given us some of the best female lead characters this decade.

23. Blade Runner 2049 (2017)

A fifth thing I love about Denis Villeneuve: he somehow managed make a Blade Runner sequel work. Here’s hoping for Dune.

24. The Look of Silence (2014)

The companion film of The Act of Killing. Oppenheimer does it again, this time focusing more on the victims of the genocide. Groundbreaking cinema.

25. Shame (2011)

Slow clap for Michael Fassbender. Slow clap for Carey Mulligan. Slow clap for Steven Mcqueen.

26. Hereditary (2018)

Using horror to examine mental illness and family trauma. Aster has made a new classic of genre, taking it to new heights.

27. Under The Skin (2014)

How to make a movie about an alien descended onto earth in order to capture men and engulf them in her weird black room of goo? Make a very alienation movie. Chilling. Otherworldly. Haunting.

28. Son of Saul (2015)

In making any holocaust film there’s always the risk of feeling exploitative. Nemes’s radical camera work, focusing almost entirely on the main character’s face in close up leaves this concern in the dust. The horrors enter only at the corners of the frame, while humanity is firmly centered the whole time. An important film everyone should see.

29. Whiplash (2014)

As visceral and heart pounding as the solos performed, the film as a whole is a perfectly made portrait of a obsession.

30. Amour (2012)

Haneke takes his unforgiving approach and lays bare a topic with incredible emotional depth. The result is deeply moving without ever being sentimental. I’m hard pressed to find another film about old age that is this poignant.

31. Birdman (2014)

A whirlwind of a film. A high wire act. The long takes turn it into something more akin to a play. A pretty damn good one at that.

32. Once Upon A Time In Anatolia (2011)

What’s Chekhov doing in the 21st Century? He’s in Turkey. He name is Nuri Ceylan.

33. The Favourite (2018)

Lanthimos turns down his style and turns up his humor. The result is the best of both worlds: a dark, twisted tale of power and a hilarious parody of monarchy and British costume drama.

34. Phantom Thread (2018)

PTA delivers again. What could easily have been another tired tale of the obsessive artist and the woman behind him is instead a fairy tale-ish ensnaring of two people’s ineffable pull towards each other.

35. A Hidden Life (2019)

Still fresh in my mind. Malick’s late style is given the backbone it needed in the form of a relevant tale of resistance and struggle. A meditative, prayer-like film about the power of belief.

36. Prisoners (2013)

A sixth thing I love about Denis Villeneuve: his movies have layers, but only if you look. Otherwise, the ride is pretty great as well.

37. Manchester By The Sea (2016)

A masterclass in doing less with more.

38. Foxcatcher (2014)

Bennett Miller does biopics unlike anyone else. That is to say, maybe better than anyone else working today.

39. The Witch (2015)

Eggers’s first foray into historical New England horror. A chilling commentary on the evils of puritanism.

40. The Kid With A Bike (2011)

The Dardenne brothers managed to make a gut-wrenching tale of childhood, masculinity, abandonment, the power of empathy, belonging, and redemption in 84 minutes. Here’s a suggestion. Watch this movie. Then watch it again. A better use of the same amount of time it takes to sit through The Irishman. Oh wait, no you still have 30 minutes left over.

#movies #top10 #decade list #movies list #2010s cinema

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thecommunityzone · 6 years ago

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Agent Stern, writing a report: Chicane's critics suggest he dressed up in a Bigfoot costume himself to promote his failing business. Chicane decries the accusation as "a slanderous betrayal akin to 9/11." Later, he would refer to the theory as "essentially accurate.”

#taz #the adventure zone #agent stern #edmund chicane #ned chicane #amnesty #community #jeff winger

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mayquita · 6 years ago

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Pictures of Reality (15/16)

Hello everyone! I can’t believe this is almost over, but it’s happening, this is the final chapter (plus the epilogue next week) Thank you so much for all your support and for continuing to give this story a chance.

Summary: Emma Swan returns to her birthplace, Storybrooke, in search of a fresh start after a life marked by abandonment and betrayal. After a year there, she finds the stability she needed and also the possibility of learning about one of her passions, photography. Killian Jones, a former British war reporter with a tragic past, establishes himself in the same town as an instructor of photography, following in the footsteps of his best friends, the Nolans. What will happen when their paths cross? Will their common passion for photography help them heal old wounds?

Rating: M (Language, mature themes, implied sex)

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, mentions of the loss of a limb in an armed conflict.

Other ships / Characters: Although, obviously, this is a cs fic, Snowing plays a major role here, mainly David. In fact, the story contains three different points of view, those of Emma, Killian and David. Also, Henry appears in the story as Regina’s adopted son but he is not Emma’s biological son.

Beta: I’d like to express my gratitude, as always, to my beta @jarienn972 I’m aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.

Artist / art: Go visit @imagnifika’s blog and enjoy her amazing art.

Art for the prologue/ Art for chapter 1 / Art for chapter 2 and banner / Art for chapter 3/ Art for chapters 4-5 / Art for chapters 6-7/ Art for chapter 8 / Art for chapter 10 / Art for chapter 11

Special mention to @saraswans , thank you so much for your perpetual support, for believing in me when I doubted myself and for offering ideas to make this story grow.

Don’t forget to go read and enjoy the rest of the amazing csbb stories and art.

Word count: ~ 10500 (116k total in 16 chapters)

Also on (From the beginning): Ao3 / Ffnet (Current Chapter) Ao3 / Ffnet

Tumblr: Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

What to expect from this chapter? This is a long one and also one of my favorites. We'll know what's going to happen with the relationship between Emma and her parents. And yes, Emma is going to read the letters, finally!

CHAPTER 14

Killian Jones, Storybrooke - May 9, 2018

Killian's thumb moved across the phone's screen while he held the device with his hand, hesitating over whether to press his finger on Emma's name.

"You should call her, Killian." Mary Margaret suggested in a soft voice. "She deserves to know. It's her father after all."

Killian nodded at her, his lips pressed together. She was right, he should call her. He was aware that he would end up doing it at some point, he just needed a little more time to figure out how to approach the subject.

He left the phone in the seat next to him as he leaned his head against the wall and pinched the bridge of his nose, a deep sigh escaping his mouth while wishing that someone would soon inform them. This long wait was driving him crazy.

They had arrived at the hospital a couple of hours ago. To his surprise, Mary Margaret had accepted the news with a composure that was worthy of admiration, after the first initial shock. Quickly, she had driven them to the hospital and had even managed to talk to one of the doctors who had checked on David in the first place.

He was out of danger, that they had been assured. In fact, although he had lost consciousness after the accident, he had recovered it again in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Still, given the high probability that he had suffered a concussion after the impact and to detect possible internal injuries, the doctors were conducting some tests so they hadn't been allowed to see him yet.

Still, Killian was reluctant to put Emma in an uncomfortable situation where she felt forced to do something she might not yet be prepared for, but he shouldn't be the one to make any decision for her. After the traumatic experience they had gone through, he had sworn to himself —and to her —that there would never be more secrets or lies between them.

After taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he finally dialed Emma's number, got up and started walking down the hall looking for some privacy. She answered with the second ringtone.

"Hey, Killian! I was about to leave for lunch. Are you still home?"

Dammit! He had totally forgotten that they had agreed to meet for lunch. "About that... I'm afraid I'm going to have to cancel today's lunch, love." He tried to keep a calm tone and even forced himself to smile, but Emma quickly realized that something was wrong.

"Are you okay?"

"Aye, I'm fine... It's David... We're in the hospital..." His voice trailed off as he tried to pull himself together.

He heard a sharp intake of breath from the other side of the phone before Emma spoke in a thin voice. "What happened?"

"He was involved in an accident, but he's out of danger." He hastened to reassure her. "It's just that they have to do tests to assess the level of concussion..."

"Concussion?" Emma cut him off, a hint of fear evident in her voice.

"It's usual in these cases, Emma, he was hit by a car. But we were told he was already conscious, he's going to be fine." He assured her with more confidence than he really felt.

"And you? How are you? Do you need something?" She asked, the way she cared about him sending a warm feeling to his heart.

You. I need you to be by my side, so you can assure me that my friend will be fine, that I won't lose him too. "I'm fine." He repeated, burying those fears in the depths of his mind. "Mary Margaret is here with me." It was his turn to stay strong now, to act like the rock that Mary Margaret and Emma would need.

They talked for a couple more minutes, Emma insisting on finding out her father's condition and knowing in detail what the doctors had told them. Only when Killian had reassured her enough, she finally decided to end the call.

"Tell me something as soon as you know, please. I'll be waiting for your call." She paused for a few moments, only the sound of her shallow breathing was heard from the other side of the phone. "And thanks for telling me, Killian." She muttered.

"Of course, love. He's going to be fine." He insisted with the intention of convincing both Emma and himself. I love you, he would also have liked to add, the words burning on the tip of his tongue. But this was not the most appropriate time. Soon, he promised himself before hanging up the call and returning to the waiting room to accompany Mary Margaret.

Emma Swan. Storybrooke - May 9, 2018

Emma was unable to concentrate, Killian's words echoing in her head preventing her from thinking about anything else. He was hit by a car. David, her father, was hit by a car.

From the moment she heard the news from Killian, a wave of panic crept up her throat as her stomach tightened into knots. Flashes of David's gentle gaze, of his frank smile, jumping to her head to torment her.

The mere possibility of losing her father even before accepting him as such caused her heart to constrict in her chest. The memory of the letters hidden in her closet, the letters she had not yet dared to read, caused incipient tears to threaten to slide down her cheeks. She blinked furiously in an attempt to hold them back.

To make matters worse, the idea of Killian alone with Mary Margaret in the waiting room, suffering in silence and probably experiencing some kind of deja-vu made her uneasiness increase. She needed to be there with him, at his side, supporting each other.

She didn't have to think twice. After all, the rest of the day was going to be totally unproductive since her mind was away from the office for obvious reasons. She got up and walked toward Regina's office, knocking lightly on the open door with her knuckles.

Her boss looked up, a slight crease of annoyance between her eyebrows at being interrupted.

"I have to go." She announced without further ado, although she knew that Regina would not make it easy for her, not at least without requesting some kind of additional explanation.

"And where do you have to go, if I'm allowed to know?" Regina asked in a cutting tone.

"I have to go to the hospital, my f..." Her voice trailed off as she suppressed a gasp of surprise. She couldn't believe she had been about to say the word out loud. "...David has suffered an accident."

Regina's expression softened instantly, a flash of something akin to concern crossed her gaze. "What? How is he?"

"He's conscious, but they were still doing different tests." A new wave of unease swirled in her stomach, as the urgent need to run to the hospital took over her. "Killian is there, I need to get to him."

Regina's impassive pose disappeared for a moment, she seemed bewildered for a few seconds until she finally reacted, shaking her head slightly. "Sure, of course, go and inform me when you know anything, Emma."

She simply nodded, the corner of her mouth twisting slightly upward in appreciation before turning and leaving the office and town hall in the direction of the hospital.

Emma only realized the implications of entering the hospital when she arrived there. That was the place where she was born, the place where she had shared the last moment with her parents before they gave her up for adoption. Or at least that was what she supposed. She did not know what had really happened. A tug of regret for not having tried to find out before settled in her stomach.

She wandered through the corridors of the hospital trying to locate the Emergency room while wondering if her parents had also taken that same route when the delivery was approaching, if Mary Margaret would have been in pain, if David would have held her hand in the process. Enough! Emma shook her head in an attempt to make those thoughts disappear. She would have time to find the answers to those questions later. Right now, she needed to find Killian, desperately.

There was no sign of Killian when she arrived in the waiting room though. Who she did locate was Mary Margaret, sitting there while clasping her hands together.

Emma allowed herself a few seconds to observe her before announcing her presence. The expression of concern was evident in the lines of her face, her brow slightly furrowed, her lips pressed together, her gaze lost miles or maybe years away. There was something in her pose though, something stoic, almost regal, as if she was implying that no matter what happened, she was going to get back up and keep fighting.

When Mary Margaret’s gaze drifted to meet hers, her eyes went wide and her mouth hung open. "Emma!" She almost screamed as her face lit up. She might have realized her impulsive reaction because she quickly schooled her features in a cautious expression.

Emma looked away uncomfortably, wondering where Killian had gone as she felt a slight blush rise to her cheeks. She forced herself to behave like an adult though, especially given the place and situation she was in, and walked hesitantly to sit near Mary Margaret, leaving a free seat between them.

"Hi, Killian told me... how's David doing? Do you know something new?" Emma asked hating how weak her voice sounded, her heart pounding against her chest.

Mary Margaret shook her head slowly, a shadow of sadness crossing her features. "Nothing yet, I'm afraid." She remained thoughtful for a few seconds until she seemed to remember something. "Killian went to get us something to eat, but he will be here any moment." The corners of her lips twisted slightly upwards.

"I... I'm sorry, I should have brought you something from Granny's, I just ... I didn't think about it." A wave of embarrassment washed over her when she realized that, in her hurry to get to the hospital, she hadn't bothered to bring them a decent meal after God knows how many hours in the hospital. She had not even bothered to eat any food herself.

"It's okay, Emma, I don't even have an appetite." She reached for her arm, but dropped her hand halfway as if she had changed her mind. Emma was aware that her cautious attitude was her own fault, but that did not stop her from feeling a kind of rejection.

An awkward silence fell over them as Emma began to regret having come, she did not feel able to deal with the amount of mixed feelings that collided inside her.

"You know, it's ironic, because David learned of your existence for the first time here, in this same hospital."

Her body tensed, while she began to feel a tingling in the back of her neck at the mere mention of her past. She held her breath, keeping her lips sealed while secretly wishing, and also fearing, that Mary Margaret would continue.

She did not seem to have noticed the effect of her words on Emma, her gaze remained lost, her voice trailing a hint of melancholy. "Luck, or maybe fate, brought him here just two days after your birth."

Emma's heart tightened in her chest, as she watched how Mary Margaret's eyes filled with tears. "I think he never recovered from the fact that he had to say goodbye to you within a few minutes of knowing you existed. He fell enamored of his little baby girl - Emma, of you."

The look of sadness and regret that Mary Margaret gave her caused her eyes to begin to sting while a multitude of new feelings began to crowd inside her, her head spinning, unable to process the information.

"We... we will have time to talk about all that, when he leaves the hospital." It was the only thing Emma could offer at that moment. She was sure that she would not be able to prevent an overwhelming feeling from consuming her if they kept talking.

"I'd like that... We owe you so many explanations ..." Mary Margaret muttered, giving her a smile full of affection that went straight to her heart. She returned the smile while nodding in silence.

That was the moment when Killian decided to appear, holding two sandwiches and two paper cups somewhat precariously between his hand and the prosthesis.

"Hey." Emma wiped away her tears quickly with one hand as she got up and, after giving him a quick peck on the lips, helped him with the food, handing Mary Margaret one of the sandwiches and a cup of coffee.

"I'm sorry love, if I had known you would come, I'd have bought something for you." Killian gave her an apologetic look as he offered her his sandwich.

"We can share. I'm not hungry, really." Mary Margaret added as she handed her half of her sandwich.

"Thank you." Emma accepted through a small smile.

Killian stood there with a confused expression on his face, as if he did not quite believe what was happening in front of him.

Emma did not quite believe it either honestly, but that first step of approaching Mary Margaret, far from frightening her or pushing her away, was helping the barrier around her heart to begin to melt, and she wondered for the first time how it would be experiencing the true love of a family.

Those thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a doctor who was asking about the relatives of David Nolan. The three rose suddenly, approaching the doctor.

"Good afternoon, I'm Dr. Whale and I'm in charge of treating Mr. Nolan." He looked up from his tablet and looked at them. "Are you all family?" He asked with a skeptical expression.

"Of course, I’m his wife." Mary Margaret assured.

"And I am his daughter." Emma snapped, her mouth acting on her own before her brain had time to process the words. But it was the truth, that was how she felt in this moment and no shoddy doctor was going to prevent her from knowing the state of her father.

"And I'm her boyfriend." Killian added, placing an arm around her shoulders in a protective attitude.

The doctor gave them a last skeptical glance before turning back to the tablet. "Mr. Nolan is undoubtedly a fortunate man. Beyond the concussion suffered by the impact, he has only suffered a few bruises and also had a dislocated shoulder, which we have already placed back in its position.”

Emma let out the breath she had been holding, a sense of relief spreading all over her body. Killian, on the other hand, pulled her even closer to him as he placed his other arm around Mary Margaret's shoulders.

"Thank God," Mary Margaret muttered, clinging to Killian.

"Since the blow to the head was quite strong, it is advisable that he stay here under observation at least during the night. And now, you can come to visit him, but no more than two people each time, please. He needs to rest." After giving some final instructions, the doctor offered to accompany Mary Margaret to the bay in which her husband was located.

Only when they disappeared from sight did Emma take refuge in Killian, burying her head in his chest, choking back a sob while he wrapped her in a tight hug. "He's fine, Swan, everything's going to be fine." Killian murmured, his reassuring words hiding a deeper meaning to which she decided to cling with all her might. Yes, everything was going to be just fine.

David Nolan. Storybrooke - May 9, 2018

David's head was going to explode. He made an attempt to massage his temples to relieve the pain, but then he realized that it was an almost impossible task. His right arm was in a sling — dislocated shoulder, they had told him — and he had an intravenous line placed in the other arm to administer some type of pain medication, he supposed.

A whine, a mixture of pain and frustration, slid between his lips as he waited desperately for the medicine to make its effect and calm his aching body.

How pathetic, he thought as he remembered the reasons that had led him to be in that situation, run over by a car in his coffee break. He cursed himself for being so stupid or so reckless as to cross the street totally distracted. In his defense, the events of the past few months had kept his mind so busy that he found it difficult to concentrate even on the simplest task.

Now he would have to stay in this damn hospital all night when the only thing he longed for was to get home, to the arms of his wife. At that moment, as if somehow she had been summoned, the curtain opened giving way to Mary Margaret.

"Oh my god, David." His wife hurried to move beside him, the expression on her face a mixture of worry and relief. "You scared the hell out of me! Don't you dare do it again, you hear me?"

"I'm fine, sweetheart." He croaked, feeling his throat dry.

"You got a concussion." She replied as she gently stroked his forehead. His eyes closed instinctively at her touch, as his body began to relax. He still felt the throbbing pain in his head and a slight dizziness, but the mere presence of his wife at his side managed to alleviate some of his discomforts.

“What happened? "She muttered, holding his left hand in hers.

"I got distracted when crossing the street." He admitted without daring to look at his wife, sensing her disapproving expression. "I'm fine, just a blow to the head." He insisted.

They remained silent for a few seconds, just enjoying each other's company while he felt his eyelids grow heavier.

"She's here, David."

Emma... He didn't even have to look at Mary Margaret to know that she was smiling. His heart fluttered furiously at the thought of Emma caring enough for him to go to the hospital.

"We talked, instead of her avoiding me. She listened to me and even smiled. I think she's starting to accept us." This time David did look at his wife, the glimmer of hope in her green eyes so intense that it caused a warm feeling to run through his veins.

"Do you think she'll come... you know, to see me?" David could not prevent a wave of anticipation washing over him.

"I hope so. Do you want me to go look for them? She's still with Killian in the waiting room."

He nodded. "How is Killian?" Even in this situation, the well-being of Killian, and of all his loved ones in general, would always be his priority. Despite his mind puffing from the impact, he supposed that his friend would not have taken the news very well. He only hoped that at least he had found the comfort he needed in his daughter's arms.

"He's fine. I know him well, I know he was probably dying inside, but he tried to stay strong, I guess for me and for Emma. It's amazing how far he's come, David, how he's growing up." Mary Margaret’s voice came full of affection towards Killian.

She was right, despite all the suffering he had gone through, it seemed that at last, he was rising from the ashes, revealing the honorable man he was always meant to be. He could not be more proud of him. "She’s been his savior."

"Well, I prefer to think that the two managed to save each other. She seems so happy with him..." A tug of some unease settled in the pit of his stomach at the thought that their happiness might have been truncated by their fault, but he quickly forced himself to swallow those feelings. What mattered now was that they were together and that he was about to see them.

"These medicines are beginning to make their effect. Would you mind if... I'd like to see them." He muttered, feeling an extreme weariness overtake him and his mind began to cloud.

"Of course, I'm going to get our kids. I'll see you later." Mary Margaret offered him an affectionate smile before placing a tender kiss on his forehead and leaving the bay, closing the curtain behind her.

The headache was still latent, but a feeling of numbness, of heavy limbs, spread through his body, making it harder to keep himself awake. Just as he was about to surrender to sleep, the curtain opened again.

Despite the pain, a soft smile tugged at his lips as he saw Emma and Killian holding hands and approaching his bed. The lines of concern were still evident on his friend's face, but the corners of his lips rose when his eyes fell on him. Emma, on the other hand, wore a cautious expression. He was aware that the situation she was in couldn’t have to be easy, that's why he valued her effort even more.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" To his surprise, it was Emma who spoke first, her lips drawing a tentative smile.

"I feel like I've been hit by a car." Her smile turned into a grin as Killian raised his eyes to the ceiling at his bad joke. "I've been better, but I'll survive."

"You better, mate." Killian raised one eyebrow in warning. "You had us very worried for a while."

"I know, and I'm sorry I made you go through this, but I'm really fine now, quite exhausted, and a little sore, but that's it. I don’t know why I have to stay in this damn hospital all night." He huffed.

"Because you got a concussion." Emma and Killian replied in unison, causing a laugh to bubble up in the back of his throat. The sound turned soon into a kind of a whimper, his aching body accusing the effort.

"You should rest, mate." Killian approached him, giving him an affectionate squeeze on his good shoulder. "You will be at home tomorrow but in the meantime, I will try to convince Mary Margaret to go and get some rest, and that I will stay tonight with you, but I'm afraid it will be a difficult task."

"It will be an impossible task, don't even try." He said so quietly that he doubted that his voice had been heard, his eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. "Also, I don't need anyone to stay with me, that chair doesn't seem exactly comfortable and I'm really fine." He made one last weak and failed attempt. Both his wife and Killian could be very stubborn when they set out to do something and he felt too weak to keep insisting.

"You and I know there's no way in hell that's happening, Dave."

"Try to get some sleep, you'll find yourself better tomorrow." Emma's gentle voice made the clouds that were taking over his brain slow their progress.

"Emma..." He raised his left hand slightly, as if he wanted to reach her, reluctant to let her go so soon. "Thank you so much for coming, you don't know how much I value this kind gesture."

When her hand held his, giving it a gentle squeeze, he wasn't sure if he had already fallen asleep and was dreaming. Dream or reality, a feeling of deja-vu seized him while a flash of that distant day in this very place jumped to his memory, a swell of emotion rising in his chest. "You did the same thing the first time we met, your tiny little hand clung to my finger that day..." He whispered. The last thing he saw before his eyes finally closed was a watery, intense gaze through the prettiest green eyes he'd ever seen in his life.

Emma Swan. Storybrooke - May 9, 2018

Her heart beat frantically in her chest as they finally made their way back to the waiting room. Both the previous confession from Mary Margaret and David’s last words before falling asleep had caused a strange sensation to spread through her body, a mixture of confusion and a desire to know more.

"Are you okay, love?" Killian asked, as he pulled her to his side, a protective arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah, a little overwhelmed with everything that's happening, I guess." She admitted through a weak smile.

They didn't have much more time to talk as Mary Margaret came out to meet them as soon as she saw them arrive in the waiting room, asking them about David's condition.

Killian and his friend talked for a while, he trying to convince her to go home to sleep since he was more rested for having had the day off. She, of course, refused any attempt, crossing her arms over her chest and pursing her lips.

"I'm not leaving, Killian, and that's final!" She stated, thrusting her chin upward.

"Fine." Killian growled, throwing his arms in the air. "But I'm not going either, I'll sleep here, in the bloody waiting room."

"Oh, no, you won't."

"I can assure you that I will." Killian challenged, causing Mary Margaret to roll her eyes. "I'm going to walk Emma to her car and I'll come back here."

Emma watched the scene between the two friends as she tried to hold back the smirk that threatened to form on her lips. There was no doubt that despite her seemingly fragile appearance, Mary Margaret was a bit of a spitfire. Just like me, and for the first time, that thought did not scare her at all, quite the contrary.

The mention of her name made Mary Margaret address her, still unwilling to bury the hatchet, apparently. "This boyfriend of yours is so stubborn... I'm afraid you'll sleep alone tonight, honey." Although she was still slightly frowning, her expression softened as she talked to her.

"I'll manage." she mumbled, looking down at her feet. Maybe Mary Margaret hadn't realized the meaning of her words, but Emma did. Her cheeks began to burn at the thought of talking to her mother about sleeping with a guy. Gods! What had her life become in the last hours? From completely ignoring the existence of her parents to now, where she felt like a kind of teenager in front of them...

Killian came to her rescue then, wrapping her waist, and gently pulling her toward the exit. Before leaving, Mary Margaret said goodbye to her warmly but keeping her distance, which she appreciated. She was not ready yet for more physical contact.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, Emma lost in thought as tiredness took over her. This perpetual roller coaster of emotions was taking its toll, clearly. After more than two months sleeping in Killian's arms, the idea of returning to her solitary apartment wasn't appealing at all. But she understood him and respected his decision.

Once they arrived at the place where her car was parked, she stopped, facing him. "Just for the record, had you been in David's place, I would have stayed with you too."

A shadow crossed his face darkening his features while he clutched his grip on her waist, pulling her even closer. "I can't even imagine if you were the one who..." He trailed off and suddenly his lips were on hers offering her a searing and demanding kiss, cupping her face with both his hand and his prosthesis. She barely had time to react, returning the kiss with earnest when he pulled away almost as abruptly as he began, resting his forehead with hers.

"It's not that I'm complaining..." She muttered as she tried to catch her breath... "But what's that all about?"

Killian parted enough for his gaze to bore into hers, still holding her face, his thumb brushing her cheek lightly. "I love you, Emma. Gods! I love you much."

Her mouth fell open as she tried to process his words, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering and her heart thudding in her chest.

"You're a bloody wonder, love, and I know you needed to be very brave and compassionate and kind to come here in spite of everything." He paused, while running his tongue across his lips in a movement too distracting. "Maybe it's too soon, or maybe not, but... with everything that has happened with David... I wasn't able to hold back these words for any longer, so I'll understand if you aren't ready yet..."

"I love you too." Emma assured him by cutting off his rambling. After a few seconds in which he was speechless, gazing at her in awe, his face split into a giant grin as a special glow appeared in his eyes, making them impossibly blue. This time, it was she who captured his lips, reluctant to part just yet.

Only after someone yelled at them to get a room did they separated. "I'll miss you in my bed tonight." She mumbled against his lips before pulling away and finally getting into the car.

She left him there, in the middle of the parking lot, gaping, a wrecked expression on his face, while her chest swelled with pride at being aware that she and only she was the cause of his state.

While driving to her apartment, she thought that sooner or later she would finally have to face her past and decide what future she wanted to follow, whether she wanted to give her family a chance or if, on the contrary, their relationship was damaged beyond of reparation despite the advances of these last days.

She shook her head, causing those thoughts to vanish, at least for a while. She would have time to think about them later. For the moment, she indulged herself in the fact that she had taken a step forward in her relationship with Killian, finally uttering the words that had been bubbling inside her until then. She felt her chest bursting with happiness. And that was just the beginning. From now on, the sky was the limit.

Letters to Emma from her father, 1989-2018

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Emma stared at the box she had placed in front of her, not daring to open it, for fear of what she might find inside.

Three days had passed since David's accident and she hadn't yet decided what to do with the Nolans. Her heart screamed that both she and they deserved an opportunity. She felt in the depths of her soul the longing to be part of a family, to begin to build a future together. Her mind, however, remained cold. If she didn't give them a chance she wouldn't risk getting hurt along the way.

There was something she was sure of though. It was fair to get all the information to be able to decide. And that meant gathering enough courage to read David's letters. She may not owe them anything else, but she at least did owe them that.

She was waiting for Killian to arrive to read the letters together. Maybe it wasn't the most appropriate decision, maybe she was violating some rule of intimacy by showing another person the contents of a letter written just for her, but there was no way in hell she could do it alone. And besides, Killian was one of those affected in this whole story, wasn't he?

Her heart skipped a beat as she heard the clink of keys against the lock, both from the fact that Killian now had a spare key to her apartment but also it meant that the inevitable was about to happen. She was going to immerse herself in her past. She just hoped that Killian's protective arms would act as a lifeline.

"Emma, are you home?" Killian's voice came from the hall.

"Over here." She called, hoping her voice wasn't shaking.

Killian stopped short when he opened the door and entered the room, his gaze traveling from the box to her face, a small wrinkle of confusion adorning his forehead.

"I want to do it, I want to read them, but I can't do it alone. So... would you mind joining me, please?" She asked not bothering to hide the hint of pleading in her voice as her right shoulder tensed up around her hear and her lips drew a small pout.

Killian continued looking at her for a few seconds, letting out a deep exhale. "I'm not sure I should intervene in this, love. It's something between you and your parents."

"It wouldn't be an intervention, just moral support." She insisted while holding her breath. A thought crossed her mind then, causing her determination to falter. She had no idea of the content of those letters but what if Killian also appeared in them? What if reading the letters not only meant traveling to her past but also to his? She needed to abort the mission right now.

She got up suddenly, grabbing the box with the intention of returning it to its hiding place, feeling like her heart dropped into her stomach. "You're right, this is a bad idea. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking straight." She mumbled, a wave of shame washing over her at the thought that she had been so self-centered that she had forgotten how others could feel.

Killian was at her side in a split second, slowing her progress. "Easy, Swan. What the hell are you doing?"

She swallowed hard, feeling her hands burning from the contact with the box as she deliberately avoided Killian's gaze. "It's a bad idea." She repeated weakly.

"Emma, love, talk to me, please." He muttered, as he gently pushed her chin forcing her to raise her head and look him in the eye.

A deep sigh escaped her lips as she squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds. The look he gave her when she finally opened them again was filled with a mixture of concern and devotion. "These letters may contain not only part of my past, or rather the absence of my past, but also of yours. I wouldn't want your wounds reopened because of me, Killian."

Letting out a heavy breath, he ran his hand over his scruff. "We're in this together, Swan, or don't you remember agreeing to walk together until we reach the light at the end of the tunnel?" The way he was using her own words to cheer her up caused a warm sensation to run through her whole body, the memory of that day bringing a faint smile to her lips.

His lips also drew a small smile in encouragement, his eyes never leaving hers. "These bloody letters may make us fall into a dark hole, but I'm sure we're going to get out of there hopefully having left behind some of our burdens."

There was so much honesty and determination both in his speech and in his expression that she had no choice but to trust him. "Okay, let's do this." She breathed out.

Killian's smile widened as he took the box from her hands and placed it back on the bed. Next, he took off his shoes and sat with his back against the headboard, leaving a gap for her between his spread legs. "Come here, love." He waved his hand inviting her to come closer.

The moment she climbed onto the bed, emulating her previous position, Killian wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her right shoulder in a position that allowed him to read as she did.

Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly, while closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she finally made up her mind and took the lid off the box, holding her breath. There were several objects inside, including a pile of letters tied with a string, but she focused first on the handwritten note that was on top, following the instructions: Read this note first.

The note was attached to a sheet of paper folded in half. With trembling fingers, she unfolded the paper and found what appeared to be the first letter, also handwritten. She felt Killian's arms tighten slightly around her waist as if encouraging her to read. And that she did.

My dearest Emma,

If you have come this far it's because somehow you have decided to give us an opportunity to offer you the explanations you deserve even though it’s through this way. I could not be more grateful for that, but let me inform you first about what you will find inside this box. I wrote you a letter every day on your birthday and some more, baring my soul in them and expressing my wish that someday we could meet you. Our wishes have come true, finally. I just hope it was not too late.

There is also a series of small objects, simple trinkets that shouldn't even be considered gifts, but we couldn't resist acquiring them as soon as our eyes fell on them, because for some reason, they made us think of you. But I will offer the explanation to each of the objects later. First things first. Let me tell you a short tale before you start reading the letters.

Emma ignored David's suggestion and, before continuing, reached into the box, looking for those non-gifts, while her heart constricted in her chest.

There was a small rag doll with golden hair and green eyes, dressed as a kind of princess from a fairy tale. Emma also found a small glass figure carved in the shape of a unicorn. And an old storybook that included an illustration of The Ugly Duckling story on the cover. The irony, Emma thought as the corners of her lips lifted slightly. From that angle, she couldn't see Killian, but the way his scruff tickled the exposed skin of her neck made her think he was smiling too.

And finally, there was the camera. It was one of those disposable devices and Emma doubted if it would even still work, but the very thought that her parents had believed she would like it caused her stomach to flutter as she blinked a couple of times, holding back tears.

If just by observing those objects she was about to burst into tears, Emma wondered what would become of her when she immersed herself in the contents of the letters.

As if he sensed her uneasiness, Killian whispered in her ear. "You can do it, love."

Nodding almost imperceptibly, Emma steeled herself and grabbed back the first letter, ready to read the short tale her father had written for her.

Once upon a time a boy and a girl fell hopelessly in love when they were still young and innocent. They longed to build a life together, a promising future awaited them, but on the way to achieving their dreams, they must be separated for a while. When the boy left, he did it with endless promises that he trusted to fulfill. But what neither of them knew was that the product of their love had begun to grow inside her. Unfortunately, with his departure, the girl was left alone and unprotected, so the evil stepmother took advantage of her vulnerability to spread her claws and try to destroy the happiness that she would never get. The girl, sad and desperate, fell into her stepmother's trap, believing that she really would not be able to offer her daughter her best chance, thinking that she too could not destroy her boyfriend's promising future by burdening him with a responsibility he did not have requested. But luck, or fate, made the boy return to the town with enough time to meet his daughter and also to say goodbye to her, the tiny baby girl carrying part of his heart with her while he watched helplessly how she was taken away - perhaps forever - without him having the chance to hold her in his arms for even a few seconds. And this is where you appear, my dear daughter.

This tale hasn't yet reached the end, and that is why I'm hoping against hope that we will be able to write our happily ever after together.

Dropping the paper, Emma pressed her lips together as she leaned her back against Killian's chest, breathing hard and unable to prevent a tear that slid down her cheek.

Although David had not offered details, the few written touches did serve to paint the scenario of a young girl alone and manipulated by her stepmother. She could now understand the reasons and although that would not mean that the pain of abandonment would ease, at least it did allow her to feel lighter. Her mother had not given her up for adoption because she thought she wasn't enough, but because she believed that she wasn't going to be able to give her her best chance.

She kept her eyes closed for a few seconds as she tried to calm her agitated breathing with the help of Killian, who alternated light kisses, barely a brush of his lips on the skin of the curve of her neck, with soothing words whispered in her ear.

Just when she seemed to have calmed down enough, the image of the stepmother came to her memory. Emma straightened her back as she turned her head slightly looking for Killian's eyes. "Mary Margaret's stepmother... she was Regina's mother, wasn't she?"

Killian nodded, pressing his lips together. "Aye, she was the one who took care of Mary Margaret when her father passed away, even though they had already divorced at the time."

“Regina knew it, didn't she? She was there when all this happened, right?" She clenched her jaw as he nodded again, increasing her decision to quit that job as soon as possible.

The reading of the first letter seemed to pave the way to the following since, once recovered, Emma grabbed the pile of letters and untied the string that held them together, leaving them in her lap and holding the first one, dated October 1990, the day of her first birthday.

The first letters were not an easy journey, as she had already anticipated. A bittersweet sensation settled in the pit of her stomach as she (they) read along.

There were smiles when David narrated some of his experiences in Storybrooke with Mary Margaret and how the town seemed not to have changed in the least almost thirty years later.

She shed more tears, first for the death of Ruth, David's mother —her grandmother— and for the reasons behind their decision to leave the town and try a new beginning on the other side of the ocean, the burden of memories too heavy for them.

She also cried for herself since, while David clung to the hope that she would be happy with a family that loved her, the reality had been very different. Each of his words acted like a dart to her already broken heart because, if they hadn't had that certainty, maybe they could have fought for her, maybe... Emma shook her head, it wouldn't do her any good to lament about what could have been. That wouldn't make the past change. Now she had no choice but to look ahead.

The letter in which she turned ten was also the one that brought Killian on stage. She noticed how his body tensed, as his arms tightened even more around her waist when his written name appeared for the first time.

From there, they continued the trip together, holding each other while they faced their ghosts of the past in the best possible way.

The feeling of jealousy and envy was there, latent, ready to strike from time to time in the form of a reminder that they had been there for him, sharing happy experiences, acting as a family, unconventional, but a family after all, while she had had to keep fighting and facing new abandonments, new disappointments, new rejections.

The letter that almost ended up breaking her was the one David had written a few months after she had turned eighteen. She already knew in advance that even though David's birthday letter had held the promise that they would come looking for her now that she had become an adult, they never would. But having the written confirmation that they had deliberately chosen Killian instead of opting for the tiny possibility of being able to recover their own daughter caused a pain almost impossible to bear.

Because irony had wanted that, while it was true that Killian had been going through the most traumatic moment of his life with the loss of his brother, she had also gone through hell at that time, locked in prison, alone and vulnerable after being once again abandoned and betrayed in the vilest way possible.

She had to stop reading, tears so plentiful that her vision blurred. She also noticed moisture at the height of her shoulder, where Killian was resting his head. That and the slight tremor of his body against hers were indicative enough that Killian was also crying.

Emma's heart ached for him, because he had been just another victim of the vicissitudes of life. She turned her head again, searching his eyes. The expression she found was so laden with guilt and regret that she could do nothing but turn around and straddle his lap, facing him, while cupping his face with both hands.

"Hey, Killian, look at me." She mumbled as he stroked his hair softly.

"I'm so sorry, Emma." He managed to say through a broken voice.

"It's not your fault, Killian, I mean it." Emma tried to convey both with her voice and her eyes, her raws feelings. "I'm not going to deny that it hurts like hell, that that twinge of pain has increased, but deep down, I'm glad they were there for you. If it hadn't been for them..." Her voice trailed off while she swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. She couldn’t deny the obvious, if David and Mary Margaret hadn’t been there to support him he might never have recovered.

Killian stared at her for a few seconds until he pulled her toward him, burying his head in her chest as they both melted into a tight embrace, their hearts beating in unison as they both found comfort in each other's arms.

"David was right," Killian muttered, pulling away a little to look into her eyes. "Reading about Liam is like opening the wound again..." his lips drew a small smile, a halo of melancholy reflected on his face, "... but with you by my side, I feel stronger, Emma."

"David was wrong about something though." Before continuing, Emma bit her lower lip, hesitant about expressing aloud the thought that had crossed her mind.

Killian tilted his head slightly, looking at her intently. "About what?"

"About Liam. It's true that I didn't know him personally, but I do feel like I've known him. He's alive in these stories, Killian." Emma pointed to the letters they had just read, scattered on her bed. "And he is alive here." She laid her hand on Killian's chest, at the level of his heart. "And here." Then she brought her hand to his forehead. "And on all those photo albums you have in your apartment."

He closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his forehead on hers. "Emma..." The way he pronounced her name, in a reverent sigh, sent a chill down her spine but she needed to continue with what she had started.

"I'm glad that both you and David have allowed me to get to know him through your memories." Killian shortened the distance between them, his soft, warm lips brushing hers and then hugging her again.

They remained in that position for what seemed like hours. It wasn't that she complained, she had learned that being in Killian's arms doing nothing, simply enjoying his warmth and the security he offered, had become one of her little pleasures. But Emma was beginning to fear that maybe the time to finish reading had passed. He soon pulled her out of her uncertainty, to her pleasant surprise.

"I think we still have a few cards left, Swan. Shall we?"

"Are you sure?"

Before answering, he took a deep breath. "Aye, let's go with it."

They didn't return to their original position though. Emma sat on his lap, but with her legs stretched out on the bed. She leaned on her side against Killian's chest, holding the letters at the right angle so he could read too as he wrapped both arms around her waist.

Together they resumed the journey through Killian's memories as they read David's letters. This last stage of the trip was perhaps the most painful, at least for Killian, since he had to relive not only the loss of Milah and the traumatic experience of the impact that took away his hand and almost his future, but they also discovered the torment that David had suffered all these years, trying to be the rock that his loved ones needed when he was dying inside.

The last letter was dated only a few months earlier, on the day of her last birthday, when she had received the gift that would change her life forever. David had mentioned Killian in that letter, as a premonition, anticipating that their paths would cross. What no one could have imagined at that time was the depth of feelings that would develop between them after that first encounter.

There was something implicit in the contents of the letters, something she hoped Killian would have noticed, too. The relationship David and Mary Margaret had with Killian was not based on the responsibility they felt towards him. They had loved Killian throughout those years and they were still loving him now. She could understand where those unfounded concerns of Killian came from, but maybe it was time to leave behind any vestige related to that fear.

She really was grateful that they had the opportunity to dedicate that love to at least one of them. "They love you, you know that, right?" She mumbled as her fingers drew delicate patterns on Killian's chest.

"I do. I do know it now. They love you too, Swan, even though they have not had the chance to prove it to you until now, but if you let them..." He paused for a few seconds as if deciding whether to continue or not. "I'm sorry, it's just up to you to give them a chance or not, but at least I hope that reading the letters has helped you understand them better."

The wound was still fresh. Maybe it had stopped bleeding but the edges were still tender. Reading the letters was meant to apply a bandage on that wound, and now she only hoped it would be enough for it to finish healing.

Still, her heart had begun to flutter in anticipation, as a wave of longing took hold of her. She also wanted to be part of future letters, she deserved to experience what it meant to be part of a family and if she had to forgive them and trust that the bandage was enough, so be it.

"I'm tired of fighting, of protecting my heart, Killian." She admitted, raising her head as she searched his gaze. "Even though I may need your help. I'm not an expert on this family thing, you know."

The smile he gave her had the ability to illuminate the entire bedroom. "You just have to trust me, Swan."

"I do." She returned a smile that she hoped matched his, before laying her head back on his chest.

Maybe it was the rhythmic beating of his heart against her ear or the soft sway of her body in his arms, whatever it was, Emma felt her eyelids grow heavier as a sense of drowsiness overtook her. Before surrendering to sleep, she clung to the last thought, like a premonition, that crossed her mind. A little girl, with green eyes and dark hair, lay in her crib while holding in her arms an old rag doll dressed like a princess from a fairytale.

When Emma woke up a little later, she was alone in bed, a thin blanket covering her body. She sat up confused, looking around through her narrowed eyes as she tried to get rid of the vestiges of sleep. There was no sign of the letters on the bed, but the box containing them had been placed right at the foot, on Killian's side. A handwritten note that had not been there before was stuck on the lid of the box.

Emma reached out a hand to get the note, finding a text written in Killian's cursive handwriting.

I hope you have achieved the restful sleep that you deserved after experiencing so many emotions. I would have stayed with you, watching over your dreams, but I needed to do something first. I needed to express my feelings towards my (our, I hope) family. I will return to you soon. I love you, yours, Killian.

She held the note against her chest and dropped her head back onto the pillow, thinking that maybe the time had come to finally pay a visit to her family.

Killian Jones. Storybrooke - May 12, 2018

The moment the door opened and he found Mary Margaret on the other side, Killian pounced on her, wrapping her in a bear hug. She remained still at first, unable to react, but then returned the hug in earnest. They continued that way for a few seconds, Killian letting himself be carried away by the sensation of calm that always emanated from his friend while the swirl of feelings dancing inside him became more intense.

The letters had been a revelation for him, so he didn’t mind to have gone through that tortuous path of reliving his past if it meant he finally managed to see that light at the end of the tunnel, at least as regards his relationship with his friends.

"Killian, you're scaring me, what's going on?" Only Mary Margaret's voice, full of worry, got him separated from her. David chose that moment to appear from the kitchen, a cloth over his left shoulder.

His brow furrowed as his gaze traveled from Killian to his wife and back. "What’s happening?”

Something caught Killian's attention, making him forget for a moment the reason for his visit. "Where's your sling, mate?" His gaze shifted to the cloth. "Don't tell me you're cooking... You should rest, Dave." He scolded him while shaking his head, unable to believe that his friend was so careless about his health.

David rolled his eyes as Mary Margaret snorted at his side. "Believe me, I've tried Killian, but this man can be incorrigible at times."

"I'm fine." David snapped defensively. "Actually, being stuck here at home helplessly is driving me crazy." He massaged his temples before continuing. "So I'll go back to work tomorrow."

"No, you won't." Mary Margaret raised a finger in warning.

"But..."

"It's Sunday." Killian interrupted, getting both of them to turn their heads towards him. As much as he enjoyed these little domestic fights, since they reminded him of home, he had come for a specific purpose. "Tomorrow is Sunday, so I'm afraid you'll still have to spend another day here, mate." He smirked at him while wagging his eyebrows.

"You aren't helping, Killian." He huffed in annoyance.

"Maybe not, but I'm sure that when you know why I'm here you'll have a reason to enjoy a quiet Sunday at home."

"Are you sure everything is fine?" Mary Margaret asked as she reached out her hand to give him an affectionate squeeze on his biceps.

"Aye, everything is fine." His stomach tightened into knots, but he forced himself to swallow any hesitation he might feel. "Emma and I... she asked me to read the letters with her. We did it this afternoon."

David's eyes widened as Mary Margaret covered her mouth with one hand, both looking at him intently, as if inviting him to continue.

"Maybe I shouldn't have done it, because they're letters that you wrote exclusively to her, but she asked me and..."

"I'm glad you did it, Killian." David cut him off while nodding. "I'm glad you were with her through it."

"I'm not going to speak for her, she'll be the one to do it when she feels ready, but..." His voice trailed off as he felt a wave of emotion creeping up his throat. He swallowed again, hoping to keep his voice stable enough. "It's been painful to relive those moments, but thanks to those letters I've realized something that maybe I should have noticed before."

"Oh, Killian." Mary Margaret squeezed his arm affectionately again, while it was evident that she was making great efforts to maintain her composure.

"You guys have always been with me, in good times, as well as in not so good ones, as in my incursions to hell. I will never be able to thank you enough for letting me be part of your family, for having welcomed me and made me feel loved even though I wasn't able to prove it or to reciprocate it to you then."

"Of course you are part of our family, Killian." It was all David said before wrapping him in a tight hug, charged with emotion to which Mary Margaret joined a few seconds later.

They remained there, embraced for a while, as Killian felt all the power of memories dancing around them. Emma was right, Liam would always be part of this family, he would stay alive forever in their hearts.

A sudden knock on the door interrupted the moment. His heart skipped a beat in anticipation, trusting that his Swan had already woken up and gained enough determination to follow in his footsteps.

This time, it was David who opened the door. Indeed, Emma was there. His chest swelled with pride as he saw that his beautiful, brave and talented Emma was finally ready to take the step that would bring her back into the arms of her family.

"Emma! What a pleasant surprise." David welcomed her, unable to hide the joy in his voice. "Come in, come in." He stepped aside, allowing Emma to enter the living room.

"Hey, guys." She greeted them, holding a tight smile as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Her eyes then traveled to David's right arm as her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Where's your sling?"

"Oh my God." He heard Mary Margaret muttering at his side as he kept his lips pressed together in an attempt to hold back a chuckle.

"Maybe he will listen to his daughter now." Killian leaned down to whisper in his friend's ear causing her eyes to go wide as she clung to his arm and gave him a pleading look. He nodded subtly and then turned back to Emma.

"Well..." David mumbled as he ran his hand down his chin.

Mary Margaret seemed to take pity on her husband as she ran to David's side, hooking her arm in his good one and giving Emma a warm look. "I'm glad you're here. Can I offer you a drink?"

Emma shook her head as she looked in Killian's direction briefly. He nodded quietly, encouraging her to continue. "No, not for the moment at least. I... look, this is hard for me so I'm going to drop everything now, okay?"

Everyone remained silent looking at Emma carefully. Before continuing, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "I suppose Killian has already told you, but we've read the letters this afternoon - all of them, which means a lot, but anyway, I just wanted to tell you that you don't need to write me any more letters... I, well, I'm here," Emma shrugged her shoulders as her lips drew a half smile, "so we can just, talk in person..." Killian was dying to be by her side, to support her at this moment, but he was also aware that it was something she had to do for herself.

"You mean birthdays and other events like in the letters?" David asked tentatively.

Emma shook her head while licking her lips. "No, I mean that, if you allow me, I'd like to be part of all this." She waved her hand, encompassing everything around her.

"Oh Emma." Mary Margaret muttered as she reached out to hold Emma's hand. "Of course, you've always been part of this family, although we haven't been able to prove it to you until now."

"Thank you so much, sweetheart, for giving us this opportunity to do things right with you for once." The raw emotion was evident in both the voice and the expression of David. He himself felt a warm feeling spread to his heart as he witnessed how the three most important people in his life finally reunited forever.

"Can I... can I hold you?" Mary Margaret offered in a soft voice. Emma blinked a couple of times, but was unable to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks. She could only nod in response to her mother's request.

Something pulled on Killian the moment Emma's parents finally embraced their daughter, no lies, no secrets between them anymore, just the sincere embrace of three people who had been separated for too long.

His fingers began to tingle with the need to immortalize the moment and make it eternal. They deserved it. In the absence of his camera, he took the phone out of his pocket, and shot a few pictures quickly and then he took it more calmly, focusing on capturing the emotion, the endless feelings that were reflected in the faces of his friends and his girlfriend.

David looked at him with a frown, but also with a smile on his lips. "Stop thinking about photography for a moment and come here to join your family." He happily obliged, at least in part, since, before joining the first — he hoped— of many family hugs he reached out as he held the phone in his hand and then shot.

While he was immersed in the embrace, surrounded by the love of his life and the people who had been his family for twenty years, he made a mental note to include that photo in a privileged place in the photo album that Emma had given him for his birthday, willing, more than ever, to keep filling that album of memories in the form of images. The memories of his family. The memories of the new life that awaited them all. Together.

TheLadySwan Life is composed of small pieces of a puzzle that fit together little by little. Sometimes the last piece takes time to appear, or it's difficult to fit at the beginning, but when it finally does and you are able to observe the complete picture, you feel a sense of fulfillment and the certainty that, no matter what awaits us in the future, no matter if at some point the pieces of the puzzle are separated again, we will always find a way to unite them.

This is the end, almost...

What to expect from the epilogue? I hope you all enjoy the last stage of this journey celebrating Emma's new birthday... and more...

Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)

#cs ff #csbb #cs au #captain swan #captain swan ff #pictures of reality #mayquita writes #my cs writings #cs au ff #csbb 2018

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iamtaekooked · 6 years ago

Text

Vanilla Rules || Ch 13|| pjm

Genre: Enemies to Lovers! AU, badboy! au, college! au

Word count: 5.5k

Synopsis:

The hate saga between you and baddie of the town Park Jimin rests on two very simple rules: 1.) Hate each other for the rest of your lives and 2.)under no circumstances fall in love with each other. But what happens when the possibility of love threatens this dynamic?

A/N: This took me so long to write!!! and since people had been asking when I am updating I thought I would do it since I was struck with .Idk if this could have gone in a different direction, but please don’t get mad at me. Enjoy ;)

Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 || Ch 4 || Ch 5 || Ch 6 || Ch 7|| Ch 8 || Ch 9 || Ch 10|| Ch 11 || Ch 12 || Ch 13 || Ch 14

The next few days passed by in a blur mostly because you hadn’t stepped foot outside your apartment. All you did was mope around, get drunk and fall asleep. It was a coping mechanism you were using to avoid having to think about a certain boy. It was your worst nightmare come true because you were inept at dealing with this new revelation.

To say you were confused would be an understatement. To you, it felt like having your whole world turned upside down. It was akin to existing in a living breathing hell which partly might have been of your own making. Maybe if you hadn’t let your guard down, or if you hadn’t forgone your dislike none of this would have happened.

The flood of mixed emotions that was painfully drowning you with each passing day was difficult to handle. Amongst everything you were feeling, frustration was a big perpetrator. You were constantly irritable and any time Taehyung brought up Jimin you physically felt the need to scream and break something. You couldn’t even hear the boy’s name without wanting to rip all your hair out.

But despite that, another emotion lingered in the depths of your heart: fear. The near constant anxiety had diminished your appetite, and sleep. You were clueless as to how to face him. It wasn’t like you had done anything wrong, but you couldn’t even find it in yourself to imagine being face to face with Jimin after what he had said. You often wondered at times whether he was just as affected as you were. Maybe he had told you that as a joke and maybe when you would see him next he would tell you the same.

That would be the ideal scenario. However, a small inkling in the back of your mind told you otherwise. He looked far too serious to be joking. Unless he carried the talent of being a flawless actor in his repertoire. But that was unlikely as well. So basically you were utterly screwed.

You knew you would have to get out and face the music because one week of missed classes was enough to kick your scholarship to the curb. You couldn’t afford it so there was a choice to be made. Either you could go to college tomorrow and face your demons, or you could stay holed up in your apartment and risk your career. It should have been an easy choice had it not been for the confession that was sprung on you.

Lying around aimlessly with the bottle of wine in your hand the situation you were in right now was far too similar to the one you had experienced before. Jimin had threatened you into kissing him in the gym after the basketball game and you had done so. Even then you had hidden away, and now were doing the same.

Even Taehyung did not know about it. You didn’t want to put him in an awkward spot so you had refrained from telling him about Hoseok, the fight, and now Jimin. He had questioned you multiple times about it, but you always managed to find an escape.

With a heavy sigh, you relinquished your moping to pour yourself another drink. You were in the midst of doing so when the door flung open to reveal-- Jimin?

You dropped the bottle of wine in your hand and the liquid sloshed on the beige carpet, coloring it red. A tight nauseating knot bound your stomach, and your heart skipped mercilessly in your chest. You looked at the door wide-eyed, the word leaving your mouth as a panicked whisper. “J-Jim-Jimin?”

“I wish I looked like Jimin” the voice was definitely not his. It was a tad bit deeper so you rubbed your eyes and instantly the image changed to reveal Yoongi.

“Yoongi!” you jumped from your seat but instantly fell back down because your motor functions were not optimal at the moment.

“Woah!” he approached you. “How much have you tortured your liver?”

“Ughhh. My liver is the least of my worries Yoong” you sighed once more and hoped that it would convey your helplessness accurately.

“Were you expecting Jimin?” Yoongi crouched down and took a bunch of tissues from the tissue box on the coffee table and began cleaning the spill. It wasn’t salvageable but you were grateful for his help.

“What!” you chuckled because of the irony of his statement. If only he knew, he wouldn’t have said that. “Noooo…. I am not expecting Jimin. In fact I am never going to”

“What happened now?” he stood up and strode towards the kitchen behind you.

You waited for him to be face to face with you again to answer. Once he was back you decided to reply. “Nothing and everything”

“Wow. That definitely answers all my questions” he shook his head as he took a seat next to you. You weren’t sure if you should reveal this to anyone because it would only involve more people in the unnecessary drama. But then again you had not talked with anyone about your worries and the stress was eating you away. Yoongi always had good advice so maybe he could suggest something to ease your growing pains.

You turned your head to look at him and a second later he shifted his sideways to look at you as well. “Jimin didn’t tell you?”

“So something did happen then” he raised a curious eyebrow waiting for you to spill the beans.

But it felt like a betrayal if you told him first and not Taehyung so you decided you would wait until Taehyung was back to tell them both about the kind of mess you were in. You doubted they would be able to help but maybe you needed your friends to be able to figure all this out.

///

To a third party, it might have looked like Taehyung and Yoongi were stoned and not you. They were staring at each other blankly as if neither of them possessed the brain power to comprehend your story. You were expecting a better reaction than the one you were getting. It was a little more “grandiose” in your head and there was a bit of an outburst as well.

But none of that came to fruition because both boys casually shook their heads at each other after a moment of silence.

“What?” you looked between the two of them.

“So he said he likes you?” Taehyung attempted cautiously as if he was scared of you going off on him or something.

“He said he might just like me more than he wants to. I mean he said might. So maybe after all he doesn’t like me. Right?” you looked at Taehyung and then at Yoongi.

“I can’t speak for him but it’s better if you talk it out amongst yourselves” Yoongi responded

“Tell me you don’t actually mean that” you deadpanned

“I do. Eventually, you have to talk about it” he shrugged like it was the most likely of occurrences.

“Not happening. I mean what would we even talk about?” you couldn’t help the frustration as you threw your hands in the air.

“Forget that. First, we need to get you out of the house” Taehyung slipped his hands into yours and helped you up.

“Where are we going?” you looked at him puzzled.

“Somewhere” he turned you around by the shoulders and pushed you in the direction of the washroom.

“Alright, you kids have fun. I gotta go to work” Yoongi stood up, ruffled your hair, high fived Taehyung and left.

///

“So your idea of getting me out of the house was the soccer game?” you looked at Taehyung accusingly.

“It’s better than you moping around in the apartment all day y/n. The world hasn’t come to an end so stop acting like it has” he shrugged and took a sip of his beer, waving wildly to some of his friends from the soccer team.

“Seriously?” your mouth hung open as a sign of your disbelief

“Yeah. But for now, Hoseok is coming here so you might wanna act like its A-okay. You don’t want to be the reason behind the captain of the soccer team not showing up for the game today” he smiled at you and quickly fixed his expression into a pleasant and welcoming one-- a bright smile and a ton of enthusiasm.

“Hey, guys! Thanks for coming” Hoseok greeted you and Taehyung with a bright smile.

“I wasn’t going to miss this game bro. Good luck out there today” Taehyung and Hoseok shared a high five.

“Good luck. I know you will win us this game. You’re the best we have Hoseok” you beamed at him and he nodded in return.

“Thank you y/n. I am going to try my best” the corners of his mouth lifted to return your smile. But then his gaze shifted behind you and his smile faltered. With a small frown, you turned around and felt the wind knocked out of you.

Jimin and Jeongguk were approaching the stands in all their glory. Your muscles stiffened, and heartbeat painfully fast. A feeling of crippling warmth spread through your body while your mouth dried up. Whipping your head back around you looked at Taehyung in panic. He didn’t understand the look of absolute horror on your face until Jimin was within his line of sight. His mouth opened in realization while his eyes shifted between you.

Jeongguk quickly skipped the few rows of bleachers and settled beside Taehyung. Your hand tightened around Taehyungs free hand, prompting his attention towards you.

“Relax. It ’s just Jimin” Taehyung whispered close to your ear in an attempt to calm you down but it wasn’t helping.

“Didn’t think you would show up” Hoseok motioned his head at Jimin

“I might not like you but I still have school spirit” the two men nodded at each other as Jimin finally halted to a stop next to you.

Your limbs stiffened, rendering your muscles incapable of functioning. You should have looked away but you couldn’t. You couldn’t even blink, or swallow and you practically forgot how to breathe. Jimin had never been one to induce such panic in you. But now he was the reason you were shaking in your spot, almost feverishly.

His voice from the other day repeated the wretched words on a loop in your head. He triggered a hoard of memories you had been trying to suppress. Once again you felt the feeling of his lips on yours and your heart couldn’t decide whether to beat faster or to stop beating altogether. You would have preferred the latter because he had focused his gaze on you which only spelled your demise. A hiccuping fit ensued making both Hoseok turn his attention to you. It only served to make things worse.

Jimin looked at you with curiously raised eyebrows, causing you to blink away from him awkwardly. The cup of beer was almost meeting Taehyung’s lips when you snatched it from him and chugged the whole drink in one breath. That definitely did not help because a second later you were hiccuping endlessly-- worse than before.

You saw a water bottle extended in front of you and trailing up the arm you saw a sweet-faced Jeongguk. You took it from him with a nod and drank all of it feeling some relief as your chest stopped burning. You focused on the vast field to distract yourself from Jimin’s gaze which still rested on you. But it proved to be a futile because you hazarded a glance only to find him staring right back.

“Hey Jimin” Taehyung was a bit too late in his greeting but it came as a respite because he turned his focus onto Taehyung instead.

“Hey” Jimin responded.

“Are you going to watch the game with us ?” Taehyung questioned with a tone of surprise. But it was more like an invitation than anything else. You wanted to sock him but refrained from doing so with much difficulty. Jimin’s eyes shifted to you and simultaneously you looked at him too. You had no idea what made you try such a stupid move because he was already staring back. You made haste of averting your gaze and focusing to the side somewhere.

“Yeah” he responded after a moment as he occupied a spot on the row below in front of Taehyung.

“Anyway, I gotta go. Enjoy the game” Hoseok winked at you and you gave him a small smile accompanied with a nod.

Jimin looked over his shoulder at you and then at Hoseok. You caught his eye for a split second and managed to notice the scowl on his face. You were almost at the edge of your seat, ready to sprint when you remembered doing so would be giving into your-- whatever it was you were feeling. Even if it killed you by the end, you had no choice but to endure.

///

It was half-time and people began emptying the stands. You watched them leave just to try and distract yourself. Somehow in the midst of the game, Jimin had moved to your row and was sitting beside Jeongguk whilst staring affront with a vacant look in his eyes. After a quick glance at him, you did the same while fidgeting with your hands in the lap. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stay in his presence but you knew you had to stick it out. Otherwise, if you gave into your anxiety that would mean that his words and actions meant something to you. But they didn’t. Right?

It was incomprehensible the way your body reacted in his presence. You became hyper-aware of your bodily sensations like the stiff muscles and limbs, the hammering of your heartbeat, the shallow breaths, and the feeling of tight knots in your stomach. You could feel everything and it amplified ten times more when you focused on Jimin.

You weren’t even sure if you had processed your feelings about the matter. In fact, you didn’t even know if you had processed the situation itself, much less your thoughts about it. When he had told you he likes you more than he wants to, a moment later he had looked at you like he couldn’t believe it himself. Wordlessly he had sat in the car, just staring at the steering wheel, while you stood stunned at your spot.

You still remembered that you stood against the hood of his car alone and watched as the sun rose in the sky. He hadn’t interrupted you and neither did you disturb him while he sat in the driver’s seat with his head resting against the steering wheel. Maybe you had stayed like that for an hour or two, neither of you talking to the other as you both soaked in the peaceful glowing morning and possibly the tumultuous emotions both of you were feeling. When you finally gathered the courage, you went back inside the car. He drove you to your apartment, not a single word or look exchanged for the duration of the ride. The whole situation was so surreal you thought it better not to dwell on it at the moment.

That resolve carried over the next week as you drowned yourself in alcohol and sleep. Had it not been for Taehyung’s insistence you were sure it would have gone on longer. But it felt nice to be out-- except for Jimin being there too. That was something you would have to work on.

“I am gonna go get some food. Let's go Jeongguk” Taehyung stood up and winked at you while motioning his head very indiscreetly towards Jimin. You sprung to your feet in panic with wide eyes as you gaped at Taehyung in horror. You clasped his wrist in a tight grip while shaking your head rapidly. Taehyung gently uncurled your fingers from his wrist and ushered a clueless Jeongguk who made sounds of protestation.

You supposed you could follow them but Taehyung would send you back. Sometimes you really hated him. As you watched the two boys disappear into the distance, you also felt all sense of sanity and composure leave you. It’s not like you were calm and collected before, but there was at least a sense of relief having other people around which prevented any possibility of conversation. But now that seemed unlikely as you sat down on the bleacher with slumped shoulders. There was no barrier between you and Jimin this time so it was even more awkward.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes and quickly looked away before he could catch you. You realized you had your phone with you and took it out of your jean pocket. As luck would have it, your phone had run of out battery which meant you had no way of distracting yourself except by people watching.

“You look like shit” you jolted upon hearing Jimin’s voice.

All the dread was replaced by a sudden irritation at hearing those words. You weren’t expecting those to be his first words after he kissed you. You had no idea how you were meant to have a conversation with him after everything, but this wasn’t the start you could have imagined if you ever did. You realized in that instant that you did expect things from him and it made you all the more flustered. Because you knew you shouldn’t expect anything from him and the fact that you did scared you. It meant that somehow he mattered in your life since you only ever expect from the people you care for. But you didn’t care for Jimin. Right?

“I’ll take that as a compliment given that I can’t even say that for you since you are a shitty person” you turned to face him with a scowl.

He chuckled with a shake of his head, almost bitterly, almost disappointingly. Your heart sunk when you looked at him, because he looked a bit hurt .“It’s a better compliment than I expected given...” he shrugged a bit clearly referring to his confession.

Did he have to bring it up? No. Yet there it was, the incomplete and grave reference that needed no saying. The unsaid words hung thick with tension more than ones that had been spoken. Usually such serious matters never needed to be directly addressed because of how grave and impactful they were to those involved. It would be like opening Pandora’s box and hoping all ends well, despite knowing it would not.

This was like opening the Pandora’a box atleast in context of your situation, because the box held dreaded feelings, emotions, unsaid words that could potantially cause significant damage. Or ones that could create unparalleled fear in both of you.

“Well... “ you started shakily, hating how weak and helpless it sounded. But before you could reply, you were saved by Hoseok, who was walking up the bleachers towards you. Jimin looked completely taken aback as Hoseok slowly approached you. He scoffed audibly and for a split second, you looked at him in confusion before returning your attention to Hoseok. Instantly you stood up to greet the boy, more out of curiosity than anything else.

“Aren’t you supposed to be out in the field?” you questioned a bit too enthusiastically because relief flooded you as you did not have to carry on the conversation about what happened with Jimin. It was too soon.

“I am but I needed a dose of luck”

“A dose of luck?” you frowned in confusion

You heard a scoff from your right and you knew it was Jimin. From your peripheral vision, you could tell he was shaking his head and rolling his eyes. Even if Hoseok heard it, he ignored it as he kept his focus on you.

“Yeah. You” a smile quivered at the corner of his lip. Then out of nowhere, he smashed his lips onto yours. It was a kiss full of passion which triggered the memory of Jimin's kiss. That rendered you a complete vegetable because the physical stimulation and the mental torture somehow ended up on the same page and managed to push you into defeat. You could feel his soft lips against yours and you knew your brain was registering it. But your motor reflexes had been fried due to the chaotic rush of memories and Jimin’s voice faintly lingering in your head telling you to back away. You felt so dizzy that your eyes closed of their own accord due to the heaviness settling in behind your eyelids.

Hoseok parted from your lips with a faint blush covering his cheeks and you couldn’t imagine yourself looking any different-- mostly because of shock. You just blinked at the boy in complete surprise. You wanted to say something, but you didn’t even know what. You stood in a daze, unable to move a single muscle. And then you remembered Jimin which managed to wash over you waves of guilt. Everything felt so wrong all of a sudden. Hoseok kissing you, Jimin witnessing it, you being unable to react-- all of it felt wrong.

“I’ll-- I will see you later” a small shy smile curved his lips as his eyes lingered on your face a little longer before he awkwardly scratched the nape of his neck. He turned around and jogged back to his teammates on the field as the second half began. You heard the whistle ring and you could faintly make out players on the field but you were too engrossed in your thoughts to fully be present at the moment.

Your knees felt so weak, you had to sit down. Your cheeks were burning mostly because Jimin was staring at you. You glanced at him only to find him glaring at you. It was the kind of look someone gives when they are silently accusing you of something-- like maybe he thought that somehow this was your fault. You wanted to tell him to stop looking at you like that because not only did it unnerve you, but it also made you feel guilty. You wanted to run away from everything, to never see Hoseok or Jimin again. But like before your body was frozen in place.

Jimin hadn’t said a word because his eyes-- the hatred in them said it all. Abruptly standing up, he stormed off and you could only watch him disappear into the distance. That is when you felt your heart sink. It affected you and you couldn’t understand why. It was unlike you to feel this way, especially where Jimin was concerned. Yet you desperately wanted to chase after him because you heard his voice from that day in your head: I think I might just like you more than I want to. It was like a sense of urgency had taken hold of you. Like if you didn’t go after him he would misunderstand and you didn’t want him to think bad of you.

Biting your lip you stared at your lap while fidgeting with your hands, and feet tapping impatiently against the steel surface. You looked back in the direction he had left and found no sign of him. The urgent feeling within you was getting worse by the second and you found it hard to sit still anymore. Like a spell of some sort had been lifted, your once rigid body regained its ability to move. You sprung to your feet and while muttering apologies for stepping on people’s toes and disrupting their view of the game, you left the field and ran in the same direction he had left.

A part of you wanted to scream his name, however, that would be very lame. So you searched and searched the whole college and finally found him in the gym where he was shooting hoops. Your frantic heart calmed down when you saw his figure through the glass window in the gym door. It reminded you of the time you had been locked in the school and both of you had played ball through the night only to wake up cuddled next to each other the morning after.

The memory triggered the appearance of a small smile which quivered at the end of your lip. It vanished though because Jimin had caught you staring at him. Your breath caught in your throat and you gulped hard as your hand encircled around the handle. With a deep breath in, you flung the door open.

Jimin didn’t even acknowledge your presence even after he knew you were there, which somehow made you feel weird. You couldn’t describe the feeling but you almost felt bad that he didn’t look at you or address you. You knew the reason why and it scared you to even admit it to yourself. You walked in further with cautious steps and stood in front of him, watching as he shot one basket in after the other.

“Jimin I-”

“Just leave me alone” he dribbled the ball, took up his shooting stance and shot but missed the net. Cursing under his breath he took another ball and shot it at the net, missing once more. He was growing increasingly agitated and you could tell because his whole body language had changed. His expression was different, furious even with the way his eyes were cold and his lips were almost in a thin line.

“Look I just wanted to say-”

“I said leave me the hell alone. Just fuck off!” he yelled so loud that his voice reverberated across the empty gym. You looked at him wide-eyed in a dumbfounded state and stumbled back in shock. It wasn’t that noticeable but his chest was heaving. He was just glaring at you in the way he did before when the amount of hatred between you was on an equal footing. It was the familiar look of pure anger towards you, he used to carry before, during the days when you couldn’t even look at him without wanting to slap him. You felt tears prick your eyes but you would never let him see it. With one last lingering gaze you turned on your heels and proceeded out the gym.

You closed the doors, letting your hand slip from the handle and drop to your side. Standing with your back against the doors you let a few tears escape. You slid to the ground because you felt too weak to support yourself. It was finally too much. To make matters worse you heard Jimin yell something that sounded lot like “fuck’. Before you knew it you were crying, and inside the gym, he was laying on the cold floor staring at the ceiling, completely red in the face.

You didn’t know if you were crying because of what he said and how he said it, or if you were just startled out of your mind. But either way, you felt really bad. You felt bad because he yelled at you and it escaped your understanding why it affected you so much. Normally you wouldn’t have given a damn about him and yelled right back. But you found yourself incapable of looking at him the same way after he had kissed you. Since that day, something about him was changed. He was still the same guy, and you were still the same person but somehow everything was different.

You didn’t know how but it was. You could feel it. Because knowing his feelings meant you had to be careful with him. Because if something happened it would be your fault. But a part of you felt different since the kiss. Special even, since Jimin wasn’t the kind of man to like someone. He would fuck girls, but in all the time you had known him he never had a single serious partner. So knowing that he possibly harboured feelings for you, made you feel like you meant something to someone. Because for someone like him to feel something, it took a lot. Because he made you feel like you were wanted. That you were worth it-- to him.

Maybe you just didn’t want to disappoint him. Or maybe something inside of you had changed after you shared a kiss with him. It would be expected. But that didn’t mean it didn’t scare you to death.

///

Jimin knew he shouldn’t have yelled at you. The moment he saw the shock in your eyes and your stuttering steps he knew he hadn’t done right. He knew it wasn’t your fault Hoseok kissed you but he was just so angry he couldn’t stop himself. As he lay on the floor, basketball clutched under his armpit, he heard your quiet sobs. The walls really were paper thin, he assumed. Either that or he really did manage to scare you out of your wits to make you cry that hard. His mind was a mess with the image of you kissing Hoseok while drunk, then of him kissing you, and then Hoseok kissing you at the game. It was like his personal tape of torture that replayed in his head on a loop.

A quiet ache settled somewhere in his chest in the form of a constricting feeling. If he could rip his heart out he would. Because that’s how bad it hurt him. If he was to admit it to himself, your frightened image hurt more than Hoseok kissing you simply because he was the one who had inflicted it upon you. He lost control which made him wonder if he would ever be able to stop himself around you. To add to it, he knew you didn’t reciprocate his feelings on the level he wanted. So was it really worth it?

He felt so helpless and frustrated that he desperately wished to talk with someone about it. But considering his only options were Jeongguk, Yoongi, or Taehyung, none of them were the right choice. Yoongi and Taehyung would tell him what they have always been telling him-- that he likes you and he should tell you. But he had done that already and he did not know what to do next. He knew how to be angry about things and how to run away from like when he couldn’t deal with it.

To him, it was the worst mistake he ever made. Maybe he was overrun with the disease of stupidity or maybe at the moment he felt so attracted to you he couldn’t help but kiss you. Yet, that could never have explained in a million years the impulsive confession that came after. It bordered on ‘maybe’ but it was as good of a confession one could expect from Park Jimin.

It wasn’t that he regretted it. No. He would have told you one way or another he felt something for you. But what he couldn’t comprehend was the unnerving effect it had on him after. He has experienced so many hookups and in his drunken state, he has professed his “love” for a lot of girls. He thought he could handle feelings, but maybe not. Nothing ever left him feeling so vulnerable and scared. He had been feeling on edge all week because of it. Every time he imagined an encounter with you it always ended with him embarrassing himself or with you two arguing. He had no idea how to deal with being around you anymore.

He sat up with a frustrated groan leaving his mouth and hand raking through his locks. He did not know how he was supposed to face you, and worse he had no idea what was going on between you and Hoseok. He knew you said you liked him yet everything you had done since contradicted it. He also knew you kissed Hoseok but he wasn’t sure how much of it meant anything since you were clearly drunk. But now that Hoseok had kissed you, sober, he did not know where that left you and your confession of sorts about liking him. Because he saw your eyes close when Hoseok kissed you, and that probably meant something.

It was like he had lost himself only to find a new side to him. One which he couldn’t understand and which he never knew existed. He hated who he was now because of his feelings. He could not handle feeling so. vulnerable, almost naked and on display. He had given you the liscence to trample on his heart and he wasn't sure he could bear it. He has never experienced anything like it, he has never experienced rejection and that is what it came down to.

Because a single simple truth remained: Park Jimin was terrified of love.

Maybe if he just ignored the pangs of excitement in his heart every time he saw you, maybe if he pushed away thoughts of you, maybe if he went back to who he was before everything. Or maybe if he stopped caring about you and Hoseok, he would feel normal. Perhaps if he just ignored everything and became who he was before all of it, he could deal with it. Maybe that is what he would have to do.

He was not the type of guy to vie for anyone’s attention. Yet he somehow always wanted yours. Maybe in retrospect, Yoongi was right-- he did do all the stupid shit just to get your attention, to keep your thoughts occupied with him even if it wasn’t in a good way. But it was exponentially worse now because he wasn’t bluffing.

The questions was : were you all in?

As usual! Let me know what you thought? Was Jimin right in he way he reacted? Should OC have told Hoseok off? I wanna know your thoughts so don’t hesitate :) Thank you for reading and don’t forget to like, or reblog (tags are validation! and I need it from you because I care what you think)

#bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts smut #bts #bts enemies to lovers! au #bts jimin scenarios #bts jimin imagines #jimin x reader #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bts fluff #bts angst

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secret-captain-swan-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Castle on the Hill

English Literature PhD student Emma Swan just needs money to pay for her last semester of grad school tuition. Killian Jones has always dreamed of opening a bookshop but has never been able to afford it. So when the small principality of Misthaven is looking for their lost princess, the pair decide that this might just be the perfect money making scheme.

A Multi-chapter Modern Day + Lost Princess (think Rapunzel/Anastasia-esque) + Book Lovers in a Coffee Shop AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 80956/ ?

Prologue (Part 1 + 2) // Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8 // Ch 9 // Ch 10 // Ch 11 // Ch 12 // Ch 13 // Ch 14

Read on: Ao3

“Emma, I’ve never seen you like that with a boy before,” Belle announces as Emma enters her hotel room.

Emma tugs off her ankle boots and leaves them at the door. She hangs her coat on the back of the door, before heading over to the two twin beds pushed together in the center of the hotel room.

“Never seen me like what?” Emma asks, flopping onto one of the beds.

Belle sits beside her, giving her an incredulous look.

“I’ve seen you a little bit tipsy taking a guy back after the English Department Christmas party and I’ve seen you kicking him out before breakfast the next morning,” Belle tells her.

Emma takes the giant duvet on the bed and pulls it over her head. She can see where this is going.

“But I’ve never seen you actively in love,” Belle declares. “And I really like it.”

“I’m not in love,” Emma grumbles beneath the duvet.

“In ‘passionate like’ then?” Belle suggests.

“Okay, that was dumb, I’m in love,” Emma admits.

“I can tell,” Belle says.

Emma is starting to suffocate under the duvet, so she pops her head out.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Emma says. “Or if this is even something worth doing.”

“What do you mean ‘something worth doing?’ You’re in love,” Belle urges.

“But that doesn’t mean I need to act on it?” Emma questions. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

“Oh no, not thinking,” Belle remarks. “Never good when it comes to love.”

Emma shoots her a look, “I’ve never been able to see myself in a relationship with anyone, but I can with Killian. Sometimes it feels like we are already there- he’s slept in my bed every night this week. I just kissed him again.”

“Okay, so you are definitely already there,” Belle tells her. “I’m sensing there is a ‘but’ coming up.”

“But,” Emma says, “I’m leaving in less than two months. Neither of us can afford a long-distance relationship. Unless I somehow become Princess of Misthaven, I doubt that we have any future.”

“That’s quite pessimistic,” Belle says.

“No, it’s self-preservation,” Emma shoots. “Having my heart broken isn’t going to help anybody. Killian doesn’t need that either. He gets it. We’ve both had nothing before. We’ve both done what it takes to survive. He understands. This is just another way of doing this.”

“Emma,” Belle says, “That’s exactly why you should do it. When you are going to stop surviving and start living?”

Emma sits up a feeling akin to betrayal rips through her. It’s the kind of privileged shit that classmates have told her her whole life. “If you really believe in your dreams, they’ll come true.” Or “don’t live life on the sidelines.” Stuff that easy to say when you have money and connections. Fortunately, Emma has always known that it was hard work and luck that actually took you places, and she’s positive it’s the only reason she’s made it this long.

“That’s pretty rich for you to say, Belle. You know that I haven’t had the opportunity to. You know what I’ve been through. Life isn’t always a Jane Austen novel or marriage plot. There is reality and it sucks or whatever, but it’s real.”

Belle sighs. “I’m sorry, Emma. I didn’t want to get in an argument with you. I truly didn’t. But just think about it. In six months, you’ll defend your thesis, you’ll get a PhD. And then what?”

“And then I’ll be trying to find a post-doc, trying to find a position somewhere, trying not to end up on the streets. Trying to survive again,” Emma tells her.

“But what if you start looking for positions here?” Belle suggests. “You could start interviewing in Misthaven. Brussels, Bruges, maybe even Lille. You could be close to Killian, close your BFF the Queen of Misthaven.”

“Ugh, don’t mention her,” Emma laments.

“Wait, what happened to you equestrian and opera partner?” Belle asks, miming a Misthaven accent.

“She kept a massive secret from me,” Emma says. “And I’m not really sure if I can forgive her for it. See, this is why it’s better if I just leave.”

“And leave behind the only man you’ve ever loved?” Belle asks.

Emma groans and buries her face in the bed, making some sort of grunting noise that sounds like “blurg.” She props her head up on a fist, looking up at Belle.

“Fine, okay, tell me about your romantic life,” Emma says.

Belle brushes a hand through her hair, leaning back against the headboard.

“Okay, so, do you remember that guy who you swapped apartments with?” Belle prefaces.

Emma thinks back her Skype session months ago with the bio PhD she was swapping with. The guy was drunk at like 4PM in afternoon. She had written him off as a hot mess, but then again, his apartment had been surprising- all white and neat with living houseplants and stuff.

“Yeah,” Emma replies. “Will, right?”

“Exactly,” Belle says. “Will Scarlet.”

“The drunk guy?” Emma asks.

“Well, that’s what I thought at first too,” Her friend babbles. “But then, well, I don’t know. We got to talking. Like, he came home one night really stressed about his research and so we started talking about it. And his research is actually pretty interesting. Then he asked about mine and somehow we ended up spending half the night talking. Then later that week he took me out for a proper date- nice dinner and everything. And then we slept together and that basically sealed the deal. We’ve been dating since September.”

“Belle!” Emma cries. “That’s amazing.”

She scoots over to give her friend a hug.

“I know, I know,” Belle says. “Look at us American girls falling for Misthaven men.”

Emma sighs and sits ups, pulling the duvet around herself.

“Do you see why I feel so strongly about you and Killian?” Belle says. “Will has made me so happy and we’ve been willing to take a risk. Yes, it’ll be long distance once he moves back and yes, we’ll have to find a way to make it work. But that’s love. And if you and Killian are in love, you’ll find a way to make it work too.”

“Ugh, I’ll think about it,” Emma laments. She closes her eyes and lets the duvet fall from her shoulders. “No, I’m serious. I will. I have a few days without Killian and I think that will help me get a perspective over this situation. You are right, Belle. He is the first guy I’ve ever been really in love with. I’ve just never been the kind of person who prioritized that.”

“You were also not the kind of person who manipulates monarchs of foreign countries into thinking you are their daughter,” Belle points out.

“Don’t remind me,” Emma says, flopping back on the bed. “Can we go get dinner now?”

“It’s only like 5pm,” Belle says.

“So? I’m hungry,” Emma whines. “And we both know that it’s going to take you a minimum of a half an hour to get ready no matter where we go.”

“That’s true,” Belle acknowledges. “I’ll go do make-up and you can Google places to eat?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Emma agrees.

“I’m so glad you are here,” Belle tells her, getting up from the bed. “Everything is truly better with your best friend around.”

Emma sits up again, leaning against the headboard. “It absolutely is.”

The next morning Belle has research she needs to do at the Kings College library, so Emma uses the excuse to spend some time playing tourist around London. She shows up for a free walking tour, which takes her wandering around the main sights. She happily snaps away pictures of the landmarks. She was lucky to see the literary side of London yesterday, but today is all about checking off all the touristy boxes: Hyde Park, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace.

When the tour ends in Trafalgar Square, she heads to the National Portrait Gallery, enjoying seeing portraits of some of her favorite writers and characters from history. Afterwards, she stops for a coffee at a cafe across the street from the gallery. She uses it as an opportunity to read more of one of the books that she bought from Daunt Books the day before. The cappuccino has such a silky texture and Emma spends almost an hour reading at the café.

Afterwards, she starts making her way over to Kings. She stops in Covent Garden, wandering through the marketplace and looking at the different street performers. On a whim, she walks into the Box Office for the Royal Opera House and enquires about tickets. The clerk lets her know that there are a few tickets available a ballet tonight. The tickets are nosebleed, but just a few pounds, so she buys them.

Following the map on her phone, she heads down towards Embankment and Somerset House. She realizes she still has a bit of time before she has to meet Belle and it’s getting cold. So she ducks into the Courtauld Gallery. She uses her student ID to get a free ticket and wanders through the paintings. They are all so dreamy and whimsical. As she sits before a painting, she feels the stress of everything drift away. She isn’t trying to figure out if she needs to forgive a monarch. Or declare her love for Killian. She’s just part of this gallery. Maybe Killian was right about her needing a vacation.

But her phone vibrates from a text with a Belle.

Meet me in the café at Somerset House? We can get coffee and talk about the day xo

Emma reluctantly moves from her spot in the gallery to find the café where Belle is.

“How was your big day in London?” Belle asks when Emma arrives in the café.

Belle already has a large cappuccino waiting for her.

“Good,” Emma says, recounting the different places she visited as she crossed the city. She takes out her phone to show Belle the cheesy selfies she took in front of Buckingham Palace and Big Ben.

“That looks like a packed day,” Belle remarks.

“So exhausting. But I got tickets for the ballet tonight, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Ticket for the ballet tonight, hope you don’t mind,” Parrots Belle, in her horrible Misthaven accent. “Sure you’re not already the Princess of Misthaven?”

Emma rolls her eyes, “No, they were cheap and I thought it might be a fun thing to do.”

“But you still went up to a Box Office and asked for a ticket,” Belle teases. “You still thought, ‘Hmm, I wonder if there are any seat available for the ballet tonight.’”

“Shut up,” Emma laughs, ducking her head to take a sip of cappuccino.

“Okay, but has today helped you process what you are going to do about Killian?” Belle asks.

Emma pushes her hair out of her face and shrugs. “I think it’s helped me more to forget about it. I’ve had a lot weighing on me recently and it’s been good to just relax for a moment.”

“That’s good too,” Belle says. “And I bet the ballet will help even more.”

“True,” Emma agrees.

“Speaking of,” Belle remarks, “We should head to the hotel if we want to change and get dinner before the show.”

“Oh my god, calm down and let me finish this cappuccino,” Emma complains.

“What does someone even wear to the ballet?” Belle wonders.

“Just like a dress or a skirt of something,” Emma says. “You are always well dressed anyway; You’ll be fine.”

“That is true,” Belle acknowledges.

Emma takes another sip of her cappuccino.

“Okay, well, I didn’t fly all the way to England to not hear about marriage plots,” Emma teases. “So how did today go? What did you find in the libraries?”

“Oh Emma. Let me tell you,” Belle says, before launching into a summary of the day’s research.

It’s just after seven when Emma and Belle emerge well dressed and fed from the Holborn tube station. It’s just a short walk through the twilight streets till they reach the Royal Opera House. The outside is beautiful, all white columns and complete with a glass dome in another part.

The inside is just as gorgeous, but selfishly Emma doesn’t think it’s as pretty the Misthaven Opera House. There is less open space, it’s more parceled off into little bits here and there.

An usher directs them to a flight of stairs that they take up to their seats. It’s the nose bleeds. It’s actually past the nosebleed, seats that hang over the side of the theater, shoved in a corner. It’s a far cry from box seats at the Misthaven Opera. But if you lean the right way, it makes for a decent enough view.

Emma flips through her program.

“Have you seen this ballet before?” Belle asks.

It’s called Giselle and Emma shakes her head to indicate that she hasn’t.

“Do you know what it is about?” Her friend asks.

“I think something to do with ghosts,” Emma guesses, looking at the tagline, “Ballet’s Greatest Ghost Story.”

“There’s a description of the plot inside this program,” Belle says.

“I try not to read those,” Emma tells her. “I like to be surprised.”

The music in the orchestra begins and the lights lower. Emma gets that rush of anticipation she feels each time a performance at the opera is about to start. The curtain lifts and the show begins.

This one is about a peasant girl who falls in love with a man. But it turns out that man betrayed her and he is actually married to another girl. Giselle goes nuts at the betrayal and kills herself.

Belle and Emma go get ice cream during intermission. There is a rooftop terrace that they eat it on. It’s a little chilly, but they can see the whole city and it feel special.

“See,” Emma says, “This is why you can’t trust men. They say they love you and then they betray you. And what happens to you? You become a crazy, suicidal mess.”

“This is a ballet, not real life,” Belle points out.

“So? Life is all stories,” Emma retorts.

“There is a whole other act,” Belle tells her. “I don’t think it means that men suck and it’s not worth falling in love.”

“I think it does,” Emma says.

As they walk back to their seat, she thinks of Quinn from the group home, in jail for getting involved with the wrong guy. She thinks of Belle, coming back from that date with a black eye. Boys aren’t worth it. They just mess up your life and it takes forever to move on.

She knows that Killian wouldn’t do that. But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t dump her, or decide that the distance makes things to hard, or maybe make out with a cute girl who comes into the pub one night because Emma is far away and he’s so alone. Killian would never purposely harm her, but that doesn’t mean he can’t hurt her.

In the second act, the dick face guy goes to visit her in her ghost form. Her evil ghost girl gang decide to kill him, unless he can keep dancing all night. But he does, they work together and risk everything and keep dancing and finally say a goodbye.

And Emma’s crying. The sadness of seeing their goodbye, the bittersweet happiness of their reunion. It all washes over her and she feels something.

She feels like she wishes she had someone that loved her that much that they would risk death to just make things right with her. She wishes she had a great romance that defied every obstacle.

Emma knows, she totally knows, as she walks out of the theater, that Killian would give her that. Killian would give her everything.

It’s honestly silly to think about him hurting her, because she’s never met anyone as devoted, as patient, as kind, as Killian Jones. It’s silly to think he would put her in danger because she knows he would do everything for her.

Maybe it’s some weird post-performance afterglow, but Emma wants Killian. If he asked her to “go steady” or “be his girlfriend” or whatever people say these days, if he asked her right now- she would say yes.

“I take back what I said earlier,” Emma says, as they bump around on the Tube, 15 minutes later.

“What?” Belle asks.

“I think I should say yes to Killian,” Emma says. “I think we can do it. I think I can do it.”

“You don’t see him for a day, you’ve got some time to make up your mind,” Belle tells her.

“No, I’m certain now,” Emma says.

“Wait to tell him in person,” Belle says.

“I will,” Emma agrees.

“The next stop is Paddington Station. Please mind the gap between the train and the platform,” the voice announces.

The girls make for the platform, getting lost in the hustle and bustle of the station. All Emma can think of is getting back to the hotel and the free Wi-Fi, because she needs to text Killian and hear about his day. Because it’s just been a day and he’s still the only thing on her mind.

It’s cold when they burst out of the station and they quickly walk the last few blocks to their hotel. Once inside, Emma immediately goes to shower and change into pajamas. She brushes her teeth and pulls her wet hair into a braid, before giving the bathroom to Belle.

Climbing in bed and snuggling under the fluffy duvet, she connects to the Wi-Fi. She immediately switches to the messaging app to text Killian.

How was today? She writes

She waits a minute, impatient as the little dots bounce around the screen, showing that he is typing back.

Good, He replies. I got settled today and talked to the people at social services about the logistics of the adoption, especially since Alice would move to Misthaven with me.

Do you take the test tomorrow? Emma replies.

Yes. God Emma, I can’t wait to find out if she’s mine, He writes back.

Emma smiles to herself. She thinks that Killian will make a great father. She can just see it. Killian taking Alice to the library, reading books together. Killian playing with her in the park. Killian taking her to Mamie’s for a hot chocolate and croissant. She can picture the way the little girl’s face would bloom with happiness with each interaction.

You’ll be great, Emma writes.

She wishes she was with him. She wants to sooth him, rub her thumbs over his temples, through is hair, as his eyes would flutter close. When he was finally serene, she’s press a kiss to the tip of his nose, then his lips. He’d smile at her touch, before returning it.

Thanks, love, he types. I’ve got an early morning, so I’m off to bed. See you soon.

Good night, Killian xo, she writes back.

Smiling to herself, she snuggles down beneath the duvet and lets herself float off to bed.

The next morning Belle is doing to research at the library in the Victoria and Albert Museum. Emma takes it as an excuse to visit. She doesn’t think she’ll like it, but she’s totally pulled in to looking at the gorgeous old dresses and curious old statues. She finds Belle a few hours later in the lovely library. It’s got green-blue walls, bright windows, and dark wood accents. Emma takes a few pictures to post online. She considering starting an Instagram just for libraries as she’s seen so many excellent libraries recently.

Emma sits across from Belle and reads more her newest novel for another hour while Belle finishes up her research. They head downstairs to the tearoom for lunch. It’s gorgeous, with stain glass windows and giant, spherical chandeliers. They get large cappuccinos and salads.

“So how are you going to tell him?” Belle asks.

It pulls Emma out of her dreamy coffee-and-books daze.

“Hmm?”

“How are you going to tell Killian yes?” Belle asks.

“Oh that,” Emma replies.

She’s made up her mind. She knows that. She can’t go back and forth. She’s decided on Killian once and for all.

But that doesn’t mean she knows how to tell him.

“I don’t know, maybe just like tell him when we get home,” Emma says.

She can imagine them in bed together waking up and then she’ll just turn over in bed, kiss him, and say, “I’ve decided yes. If that’s okay with you.”

“That’s not bad,” Belle says.

“Why do you, Master of Marriage Plots, have any ideas?” Emma asks.

Belle stirs her cappuccino and bites her lip.

“Consider this, he’s getting off the train from finding out he’s going to be a father. And there she is, the other girl of his dream (you know, not his daughter), waiting on the platform for him and she just goes up and throws her arms around him and kisses and then declares her love for him,” Belle spills.

Emma rolls her eyes, “That’s so cheesy. You should really write, like, romance novels or something.”

“Okay, but is that not a decent idea for telling him that you are now an officially dating couple?” Belle poses.

“I suppose it is decent, but probably with less flinging,” Emma says. “I don’t really do that dramatic running and throwing thing.”

“Fair,” Belle says, “But tell him as soon as you can. So you won’t back out.”

“I won’t back out,” Emma protests.

Belle gives her a look.

“Okay, I could,” Emma acknowledges. “But I won’t.”

They both turn to their salads for a moment, chewing and silent.

Emma feels a bit of warmth in her heart knowing that she and Killian will be an actual thing. It’s like a happy little secret sitting in her heart.

“So, this is our last night together in London,” Belle says. “We should do something special.”

“I agree,” Emma says.

“I’ve got more research to do this afternoon,” Belle says. “So I’m putting you in charge of deciding something splendid to do.”

Emma gives a mock salute, “Aye aye.”

She spends the afternoon hopelessly wandering through Kensington trying to think up something that would be an adequate ending to her mini-vacation with Belle. She ends up back in the hotel googling ideas before deciding on a wine bar in the Shard.

It’s the perfect choice. The city sparkles below them as they sip wine and eat dessert. Though it’s insanely expensive for their graduate student stipends, the memories are worth it.

“I’m glad we did this,” Belle says.

“Me too,” Emma says, looking out at the Thames below them. “Honestly Belle, I’m always grateful for your friendship. This has been like a little oasis, given everything that’s been going on recently. It’s good to know that a life exists outside of my thesis and the queen and Misthaven.”

“Let me always be your oasis,” Belle says. “This was good for me too. I’m glad you know about Will now. And I’m glad I’ve met Killian.”

Emma smiles, sipping red wine, “I am too.”

“And I’m glad you are actually falling in love with someone,” Belle says, nudging her. “Emma Swan, I thought you never would. I didn’t know if you could. But I’m glad you’ve opened your heart. Everything is going to change because of it.”

“Honestly, I think we should call the sap police,” Emma groans. “I don’t think everything is going to change. But I’m happy too.”

That night Emma climbs into bed a bit too tired from the wine to text Killian. But she falls asleep thinking of him and what his lips will feel like on hers when he tells her the news about Alice and when she tells him the news about her heart.

It’s the next morning when Emma heads to the train station to meet him. She’s got her bags so they can head right to the airport from there.

Paddington Station is bustling with people. Emma feels a tingle of nerves in heart, but excitement too. She’s finally decided on her feelings. She’s going to have a boyfriend. Killian is going to be her boyfriend.

She’s nervous. She’s jubilant.

And she’s ready.

She’s finally, finally ready to let someone in.

She’s waiting at the gate for where his train comes in. She watches the different passengers coming off. There is a family with three kids. A business man in a suit. A couple looking like they’re off on a holiday.

And then he’s there, right before her.

His head is ducked and she just takes in his dark hair. He’s in a grey wool coat and her heart does a little swoop. She can’t wait for his blue eyes to meet hers.

But then they do and everything breaks.

She’s never seen him look so broken. Even from a few steps away, she can tell they are red-rimmed. He’s been crying.

Oh.

Tagging some pals: @sambethe @lenfaz @pocket-anon @the-corsair-and-her-quill@kmomof4@kiwistreetswan@princesseslikepirates @timeless-love-story@shady-swan-jones@katie-dub@1handedpiratewithadrinkingprob@midnightswans @hollyethecurious @hookswan25 @princesse-swan @captainpoe @onceuponaprincessworld

#cs ff #Captain Swan #emma swan #killian jones #cs mc #cs au #CS Crew #cs fanfic

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