#you could easily slip from fairy world INTO anti fairy world and then face the annoying hassles of trying to get back out

[cubbihue]

I'm curious,

If an Fairy changes court, like Upper(Fairy) to Circuit(Pixie), what happens to the Lower court(Anti-fairy) counterpart?

Do they just cease to exist? Will they come back if the change is reversed? Will they have any idea of what happened?

In addition to that, does the Leisure court(specialty fairies) have a Lower court counterpart, or is it just the Upper court that has that?

And if it's only the upper court that has that, why only them?

Besides Timmy, Pixies and Leisure fairies actually can't change courts! They're stuck the way they're born because they technically lack a living counterpart!

Leisure Fairies are bound to their specialty, while Pixies are bound to their work. But Uppers and Lowers are bound to each other, which is why they can swap places. If a fairy's counterpart dies or disappears, so does the original and vis-versa.

The only exception to this rule is if the "Binding" of the fairies are changed before the counterpart dies.

Additional fun fact! There's technically 4 Fairy "realms". They're stacked on top of each other, and it's progressively harder to get to each one the higher they are (Only Leisure Fairies can access ""Olympus"", for example). They have official names but nobody bothers to use them.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 3 Part 1

Hello all, here’s the first part of the third episode of Midnight Striga, a Fairy Tail/Owl House crossover fic! Everybody clap your hands!!

Luz’s head thunked against the table, heedless of King’s chuckles and Eda’s grimace.

“Aw, come on, kid.” Eda tried to console the embarrassed teen. “So some things slipped your mind after your big showdown. It’s not the end of the world!”

“I’m aware of that, Eda.” Luz’s muffled voice replied. As she lifted her head, she turned her tired gaze onto the Owl Lady. “But this is way more serious than me just spacing out.” Her serious look dropped away, replaced with a comical level of panic. “I can’t believe I dropped that Lacrima!! Who knows what kind of chaos that thing can cause!?”

“Easy, kid.” Eda raised her hands in a calming gesture, taken aback by how worried the kid was. She had never seen her get like this before. “What’s the big deal about that Lacrima thing anyway? I mean, I get that it boosts magical power and all, but aren’t you getting a little too bent out of shape over it?”

“BOOST MAGICAL-?!?” Luz started to shout, before taking a breath to calm down. “Lacrimas do WAY more than just boost magical power. Especially that one.” Her gaze turned morbid as she recalled that little chunk of crystal she had held, the power it represented.

Eda arched an eyebrow, puzzled. “Kid, I’m gonna need more than that.”

Luz sighed, but relented. “Okay, small history lesson, The Human Realm has magic, as you now know.” This got nods from Eda and King. “And with magic, comes monsters.” Another set of nods. “And among those monsters are those considered to be the pinnacle; Demons.” This brought the two up short. “I won’t get into the full story, but a while back, humanity crafted magic specifically designed to counter and battle inherently magical beings, of which Demons of our Realm very much qualify. To fight Demons in particular, Devil Slayer Magic was developed.”

Eda snorted, feeling uneasy. “Well, isn’t that a name.”

Luz cracked a grim smile. “It really is.” She grew serious. “But the magic itself is the real deal. Devil Slayer Magic, like all of the lethal arts, breaks down the inherent defenses of those it is meant to kill, and fundamentally weakens them as well. Anyone who wields the magic is essentially an Anti-Demon; the presence of a Devil Slayer actively weakens, and can even harm, Demons of all types and forms, making them easier to kill.”

Eda placed her chin in her hands, a dark light burning in her gaze, while King nervously sweated next to her. “I’m assuming the magic was made for a legitimate reason, so I’m not gonna say anything about the fact that it was created specifically to kill Demons, but what does this have to do with that Lacrima?”

Luz chuckled, an ugly sound. “I’m a little surprised you haven’t pieced it together yet. Lacrimas are crystalized magic, remember?”

Eda’s eyes widened, the implications hitting her, King openly whimpering beside her. “Now hold on kid, are you saying that that was a Devil Slayer Lacrima!?”

Luz snapped her fingers in Eda’s direction. “Bingo, right on the money.”

“So, what you’re saying is, there is a chunk of Demon Killing Magic loose in Bonesburough!?” Eda sounded a little panicked at the moment.

Luz shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“Well nothing we can do about that.” Eda said, all the urgency gone. Luz face planted the table in response.

Luz turned her head towards Eda. “How are you not worried!? I just said that an extremely dangerous form of magic was loose in the town!!”

“Yeah, but it’s been Four Days, kid.” Eda stated logically. “There is no way we’ll be able to track it after all this time.” Luz bit her lip, but didn’t argue, the Witch was right.

With a sigh, Luz sunk deeper into her chair, sullen. “Well, if we’re not gonna track down the Lacrima, what are we gonna do?”

Eda grinned. “Well, I’m gonna introduce you to one of the most intrinsic aspects of my business!” The way King went still at those words told Luz all she would need to know on the subject, as did Hooty’s surprisingly mocking laughter.

‘Still,’ Luz thought. ‘What’s the worst that Lacrima could’ve gotten up to in just four days?’

Unbeknownst to her, across Town, a young Demon crashed painfully against a wall, staring down a three-eyed Witch glaring at them hatefully. As they tried to crawl away, the Witch painfully stomped on their leg, eliciting a painful cracking sound. Seeing the Demon react, the Witch smirked, and dug her heel deeper into the limb.

“Boscha, cut it out!” The worried cry of her friend drew Boscha’s gaze from the Demon lying before her, the red fading from her eyes.

Walking over to her follower (Friend), Boscha casually asked. “Yeah Skar?”

Skara gave Boscha a reproachful look, much to the stunned disbelief of the rest of their clique. “I don’t know what’s been up with you since you lost that fight the other day,” All of the girls braced for Boscha’s retaliation to Skara’s comment, only to marvel as Boscha didn’t even blink at the reminder. Seeing as she wasn’t going to be beaten bloody, Skara continued. “But that’s no reason to start jumping every demon you meet in the streets!” Skara spread her arms wide, indicating that, yes, Boscha had indeed ruthlessly beat and left whimpering multiple demons, all lying in the street. Skara, feeling bold, got in close. “What’s up with you?”

“I need to get stronger, and they make good ways to test myself.” Boscha blandly responded, as if she was just talking about the weather. The fact that one of the demons she ‘tested herself’ against was lying on his back, struggling to breath from the damage done to his chest from her attacks didn’t even phase her. The sheer casualness of it chilled the group, unused to even this level of ruthlessness from their effective leader, at least not without some genuine spite and anger behind it. The sheer detachment from her emotions was jarring.

Skara shivered, lightly rubbing her arm. “W-well, let’s just get to class, okay? We’re gonna be late, you know?” With her piece said, Skara rapidly walked in the direction of their school, the rest of the clique following her. Boscha blinked, puzzled at their reactions. Was it something she said? Shrugging, Boscha slipped her hands in her pockets, strolling along after them, utterly oblivious to the death grip she held on the gem currently stashed in her pocket.

Kill...Demons...Kill...Every...Last...One

Back with Luz, she was currently staring at the sight of Eda, proudly standing before a massive, rotting slug corpse alongside the beach. Luz’s eye was twitching at the sight. This was… certainly something alright.

“Isn’t it glorious Luz?” Eda asked. Luz blinked, about to answer with a sarcastic quip, when it kicked in that Eda was serious. “These babies travel the Boiling Sea, growing larger, gorging on all they can, including valuable, resellable, junk from the Human Realm, before they eventually croak and wash up on these shores!!” She turned a beaming grin the Human’s way, clearly expecting her to be impressed. Luz was not impressed in the slightest.

Luz sighed, slowly dragging her hand down her face. “You dragged me out here to help you dissect and harvest this thing, didn’t you?”

“Got it in one, Kid!” Eda cheerfully admitted. “What can I say, you’re labor, you’re here, and we’ve got a lot of corpse to dismantle!”

With a groan of annoyance, Luz brought her hands together, a spell forming. “Light-Make: Workers.” she intoned. Shimmering into existence were two incredibly blank looking humanoids, who instantly set to work; the first grabbed the tools Eda had on hand and started going at the corpse of the trash slug, while the second plucked King out of the way, and started sorting the numerous goods and trash into piles. With a blank look, Luz turned to a dumbfounded Eda. “There, I officially eliminated two-thirds to three-quarters of your workload. If you need me, I’m gonna get a better look in town, maybe get a lead on the Lacrima. Peace!” With a backwards wave, Luz took off, while Eda marveled at the complexity of the spell before her.

“Dang, that kid really knows what she’s doing!” Eda mused. “These things are seriously sophisticated; I was never as in to the technical know-how for things like this as others, but even I can recognize the level of planning that went into designing these. And that kid just whips them up on the fly! HA!” Eda crowed, enjoying the pleasure of knowing she had gained access to something like this over anyone else on the Isles.

“So these things will follow any order?” King piped up, looking intrigued.

“Hmm… not ever order, but anything simple.” Eda stated after a moment of thought. “These things, from what I can tell, are meant to be simple labor; they can handle uncomplicated tasks well, but anything that needs real thinking is beyond them. They’ll keep going until they run out of magic, and any time they complete a task they’ll stand by to receive another.” Eda nodded to herself; she wasn’t kidding when she said these were good, any Abominationist worth their salt would sell their family’s entire wealth to spend even a minute studying one of these.

“So, what your saying is, we’ve got a pair of super-minions that’ll do all the boring work so we can kick back and relax!?” King demanded, ecstatic at the very thought.

As Eda opened her mouth to refute this, she paused, considering. As what had already occurred to King fully dawned on her, a wide, devious grin stretched itself across her face. The duo cheered, birds flying off in the distance at the volume.

Luz whistled along, carefully scanning her environment for anything out of the ordinary. As she wandered along, she idly noted how beautiful the place was, deadly wildlife and callous view of harm and death notwithstanding, and Luz could honestly say that, if things were different, she could easily see herself living here. Still, she had a mission, and absolutely nothing could distract-

“You can do it!”

Who the what now? Luz’s gaze turned to the source of the voice. Peering through the bushes, she witnessed the sight of a truly adorable Witchling giving herself a pep-talk. “You got this! It doesn’t matter if you do poorly in terms of grades. My parents are right, I’ll have better opportunities on this track.” As the girl kept cheering herself on, she accidentally stepped on a plant, yelping in distress as she noticed. “Oh, I’m sorry little friend!” With a hum, the girl quickly whipped up a spell that perked the damaged flower back to normal; Luz was impressed, the efficiency in that spell was something she hadn’t thought Witches on the Isles were actually capable of. As the girl celebrated, Luz spotted another girl coming along the path, the cart carrying her hauling a truly massive pot. As the new girl approached, she bumped into the first Witch’s own, much smaller cart, sending it sprawling across the ground. Luz frowned at the sight.

The new girl glanced down, slight surprise lighting behind her eyes as she tore them from her book. At first, Luz thought she would apologize; the next words out of her mouth killed any hope of that. “Oh, sorry Willow. I didn’t notice your cart. It was so small and pathetic I must have missed it, sort of like you actually.” Ordinarily, that kind of cruel callousness would’ve set Luz off to some degree, but the words lacked the genuine edge of malice that Luz often found in such statements.

“Amity.” The now-named Willow seemed to physically deflate. It was practically heartbreaking to see her look so small, so fast. “What do you want?”

“Oh my, can’t I check on a fellow classmate?” Amity said, a coy grin on her face. “I do hope you’ve got your Abomination ready for the presentation.” Abomination? Luz figured it must have been some aspect of the Isles’ magic she hadn’t seen yet. With a twirl of her finger, the kid named Amity called up a colossal humanoid composed of some purple-colored sludge and muck. With a hesitant twirl of her own finger, Willow called her own Abomination out of the much smaller pot beside her; it was pathetic, small, malformed, essentially nothing but a head. Every bit of Luz’s instincts and pride as a Construct Specialist cringed in pain at the sight of Willow’s Abomination.

Amity tisked at the sight. “Ooh, I don’t think that’s gonna cut it. Not like mine at any rate.” She gestured to her Abomination, which proceeded to march forward, stomping on Willow’s, and standing before the timid girl.

“You-Are-A-Star.” The thing gurgled out, apparently capable of VERY limited intellect. It then moved to slowly drag its finger across Willow’s forehead, leaving the image of a purple star behind.

“Oh, how sweet!” Amity cooed with faux-sincerity. “It’s just like mine.” She gestured to a gold spot on her uniform, some kind of badge, Luz guessed. “But smaller, and meaningless.” With that last bit said, she had her construct haul her onto her cart before returning it to its vessel. “See you in class, superstar.”

“‘See you in class, superstar.’” Willow spitefully mimicked. “Oh, I HATE it when Amity taunts me like that.” She growled, the ground shuddering. “I hate making Abominations.” The rumbling increased. “I hate getting bad grades!” Thorns started poking out from beneath her feet. “I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANY MORE!!!” With a scream of rage, eyes burning a vibrant green, colossal vines ripped out from the ground, lashing out in all directions. Before Luz could even blink, the vines whipped over to her hiding spot, hauling her into the air. While they were biting a bit into her skin, it was more irritating than harmful, other than the height she was being dangled from at any rate.

Deciding to cut this off before she reached a point of being in actual danger, Luz called out to the girl. “Hey, you mind letting me down!?”

As the girl’s still fiercely glowing eyes whipped over to her, Luz briefly contemplated the idea of having made a mistake, only to internally sigh in relief as the glow faded, embarrassed shock crawling across the Witchling’s face. “Oh my Titan, I am SO sorry for that!” She quickly withdrew the vines, smoothly lowering Luz to the ground, much to her admiring thanks. “I can’t believe I lost control like that. Oh! Where are my manners. My name’s-”

“Willow, I heard.” Luz chuckled. “Speaking of names, mine’s Luz.” With that said, she held out her hand, open for a shake.

[cianmars]

Cherry Wine (1/1) AO3

Emma thought that she shared True Love with Killian, not long after they're married she sees a darker side of him, she keeps trying, only to find herself without friends or family and forced to move out of town by him when Sophie is only a month old.

What will it take for her to leave?

A/N: This is very anti captain swan and Killian is abusive in this - I like Killian in general but not as part of this relationship. There are references and depictions of domestic abuse, if you are triggered by this please go careful or don't read at all.

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The wedding was idyllic, at first, like something out of a fairy tale. It reminded her a lot of her parents marriage, they would cuddle up watching things on Netflix, go on little adventures, they’d surprise each other with little gifts: the only real difference was there was a lot more alcohol involved, but Emma knew her dad had issues surrounding alcohol and his own father so he barely drank, and Snow could easily outdrink any soldier but after having Emma and Neal she couldn’t hold her alcohol anymore.

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Six months into their marriage came the first thing which shouldn’t have even been a red flag, it should have been a flashing neon sign, with loud music, telling her to run. It was a night after Killian had drunk a lot. They had argued about that, Emma telling him he should stop or at least slow down, there had been a lot of shouting, Emma had snatched the glass of rum from him, and thrown it into the kitchen sink, at first there was just the smashing of the glass, then there was a punch, not a slap, but a proper punch, Emma fell onto the hard kitchen floor.

Killian had apologised almost immediately, Emma had made him mad after all, and Killian had meant the apology, he made it up to her the entire next day, treating her like the princess she (technically) was, giving her gifts, and looking after her. He even stopping drinking for nearly a week.

Emma didn’t notice the change, at first. It had crept up on her like a monster under a child’s bed. The change happened slowly, the two battled each other like a dance, trying to find either equilibrium or power, depending on which person you were. Slowly, without her realising, Emma had lost while Killian had gained complete control. She suddenly saw less of her parents, her brother, her friends, her son, half the time because Killian had told her not to, and half the time because she didn’t want them to see her like she was. She was ashamed, because she truly believed that it was her fault, he reminded her (all the time) of the fact she had been the one to force The Darkness into him, he had a right to still be mad.

She had been in love, she was in love, true love…. Wasn’t she?

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She heard the door slam, she was lying in bed, her body was aching from an earlier disagreement, she had been trying to sleep but she was in too much pain.

She wasn’t sure if it was the actual smell or simply the memory of the smell of all the times it had happened before, but she knew that he smelt like a distillery. He no longer held out for rum, his alcohol of choice, he would accept any and all and all available.

She heard hit boots come down heavy on the wooden stairs, her heart quickened with every step. She couldn’t tell if his gait was just drunk or horny drunk, or angry drunk.

She heard him calling her name, her new name.

“Mrs Joooones”

Horny then.

She pretended to be asleep, it wouldn’t stop him, but it would at least mean she could try and protect herself as best as she could.

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She found out she was pregnant with only 4 months to go. She didn’t really show and didn’t have any symptoms, and when she found out she was she felt sick, Killian was there when she found out, and he was absolutely overjoyed. His pride and smile, a smile so full of love when he looked at her… it reminded her of when she had first believed they were in love.

He didn’t lay a hand on her anymore. Sure, he was still controlling, no, protective (she reminded herself) but she remembered her father being protective over her mother when she was pregnant with Neal (it wasn’t the same, she knew that deep down, but she kept trying to rationalise it). But she didn’t get a single bruise on her from him while she was pregnant, sure there were words and mind games, names, and taunts, but he didn’t hurt her physically.

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Soon Emma gave birth, with her husband holding her hand, she had ghost memories of holding Henry after he was born, though she knew they weren’t real,she thought of them again while holding her newborn daughter.

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What Emma didn’t know was that by the eighth month of Emma’s pregnancy Killian was feeling stifled by Emma’s family, her parents in particular, and Regina who had always thought that Emma was too good for him. He had been in the modern world for a long time now, he knew how things worked even outside of Storybrooke, he only played the fool.

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He stood watching Emma nursing their daughter, who currently had hair darker than his though he knew that could easily change, Emma looked up at him and smiled.

“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled. Her head tilted to the side a little. “I bought us a new house. I know I’ve always hated this place, too many bad memories, I swear I can still feel that bloody sword in the stone in the basement.”

Emma bit her lip. The guilt inside of her for her actions while dark was an endless well. “Okay. Where are we moving to? Nearer to my parents-?”

“No. I think we both need a new start, somewhere new, where we can just be us, not the daughter of Snow white and Prince Charming, and a villian.”

Emma hated when he put on a sneering voice to say her parent’s names.

“But, but what about Henry, I can’t leave him-”

“He’s practically a man, and he spends most of the time out with his mates or with Regina, he won’t want to come live full time with us. We’ll give him your old car he can drive and visit us. Emma, look down at Sophie.”

Emma did as she was told.

“Do you want her to be able to live to see the age of five.”

“Of course I do-”

“- She won’t if she lives here.”

Emma felt as though that sounded like a threat. She held Sophie closer to her.

“Emma think about all the threats, all the monsters, all the bloody portals. Sophie won’t stand a chance. I’ve made the decision Emma, for us, as a family. I have a job set up, a house, you can stay at home and look after our baby, the things you never got with Henry. You want that, right? We can come visit here, if you want, but I want you and Sophie to be safe.” He walked over to her, bent down, and tenderly kissed the top of her head. “You know I’m right, don’t be so bloody stubborn Swan, yeah?”

She felt his hold on her tighten. She nodded, not that it mattered.

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Sophie was a month old when Emma left all her loved ones behind, when she led on the floor on her new home bleeding and blaming herself for it she watched her goodbyes to her parents, son, and toddler brother in her head. She wondered what they really thought of her move, they had been crying and telling her to visit but they were trying to smile and telling her that this was going to be good for her. Perhaps Killian had told them that moving was her idea.

Their new home was hours away, in a place which was in a seaside town on the east coast, their house was smaller than their one in Storybrooke, and not as well done up, but Emma tried her best to make it a home.

She tried her best to ring her parents and Henry, she had tried facetiming but there were too often bruises on her face, if she had been crying too much then she would text.

She had tried to bring up visiting them… that had never gone well….

When Sophie was two Henry had invited her to his graduation, she had begged Killian to let her go, he had beat her up so bad that she had ended up in the hospital. She told the doctors she had slipped on one of Sophie’s toys. She didn’t realise until she was back and cradling her daughter in her arms that she was lying for her husband like she had lied for too many foster parents in her own childhood.

Killian no longer gave her apologetic gifts or even said sorry.

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3 Years (Sophie 5 1/2)

Emma was exhausted. Killian hadn’t let her sleep most of the night, he had gotten horny and drunk and the alcohol had stopped him from being able to get it up, which had made him angry at her.

She was pregnant again, only this time her husband didn’t care to keep his hands to himself, the worst of it was he didn’t seem to care that Sophie had heard him shouting at Emma many times now.

She had only just put Sophie to bed, she was trying her best to stay awake, but she had so many things on her list she needed to do, the most important was to tidy up the house and make Killian dinner for when he came home.

……. Only he came home early. He nearly slipped on one of Sophie’s toy cars. He saw red.

He threw the car at Emma, pushed her against the wall by her throat with his fake hand, he punched her in the face with the other. “I told you to keep her fucking toys tidy! It can’t be bloody hard! It’s just too hard for you, isn’t it?” He threw her to the ground.

Emma didn’t realise Sophie was heading downstairs until she already by her side.

“Daddy no! Mommy! Mommy!”

She was crying, terrified of actually seeing her father like this, Emma tried to hold her, to hold her as safe as she could. But Killian grabbed her, she let out a gasp and a whimper of pain, he had grabbed her roughly by the top of her arm and was half carrying half dragging her back up the stairs.

Emma whimpered and tried to push herself up, she needed to protect her daughter, she was frozen, absolutely terrified that he would hurt her daughter. He was back down the stairs quickly, too quickly to have actually hurt her, or so Emma hoped.

His booted foot came down hard next to her face, there was a smash as he completely totaled her cellphone. There would be no calling for help. “I expect this place to be bloody spotless when I get back from the pub, or you’re gonna wish you were never born.”

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He had once boasted that he had knocked down her walls, and he had, like a fucking cannonball. But it didn’t feel like she had no walls, it felt like she was locked in the tallest tower with a fire breathing dragon, and there was no way out.

She felt a stab in her heart as she heard the crying coming from her daughter’s bedroom. Emma had been through a lot, she had been hit, mocked, verbally abused, she had been cheated on- she hadn’t even felt jealous at that because at least it meant that she didn’t have to spend the night with him. But this, hearing her daughter crying because her daddy hurt her mommy, knowing that he was only getting worse… knowing that Sophie, and their unborn child, were going to see this and think it was normal… or they would become victims to their father’s rage.

Over the past six years she had been so scared that she would simply freeze. No more.

She pushed herself to her feet. She was sore but it wasn’t nearly the worst. She placed her hand on her stomach. “It’s okay baby. We’re going to go home.”

She made it up the stairs, a small feat being twenty weeks pregnant and having been beaten, but she had steel in her blood. She pushed open her daughter’s bedroom door. “It’s okay baby.”

Sophie launched herself into her mom’s arms. “Mommy, are you okay? Daddy hurt you, I tried to stop him, he wouldn’t stop mommy.”

“You’re a very, very, brave girl Sophie.” She pressed a kiss onto her soft hair, as a newborn baby it had been dark but as she had grown it had become blonde, like her mother’s. “Honey, we have to go. I told you about your grandparents, and your uncle Neal, and your brother, Henry, we’re going to go to them, but we have to be very very quick, okay?”

“We’re leaving?”

“Yeah, honey, we are. We, we’re not safe here.”

“Daddy hurt my arm.”

Emma looked at it and could see a bruise already forming. “I’m sorry, I should have never, he shouldn’t have…. He’s never going to do it again. We need to pack your things up, just very special things okay, some clothes, your toothbrush, a couple of toys. You choose your favourite toys okay? We can buy you more so just your absolute favourites.” She grabbed a few bags from her own room. She packed a couple of outfits for Sophie, photographs of the two of them, and some of newborn Sophie with Emma’s family in Storybrooke, her blankie Ruby had knitted before she was born, and some of her special teddies. She made sure she had enough clothing for her daughter for nearly a week, she didn’t really have many outfits or toys anyway, Killian was in charge of their money and he choose to use it to fund his alcoholism. She felt sick looking at Killian’s face even in a photograph, but she put one of the photos of Killian and Sophie into the bag, in case Sophie wanted it one day.

She kept Sophie with her as she headed into her bedroom. She had changed her sense of clothes to nearly the equivalent of a 50’s housewife when she and Killian had been engaged, she didn’t know why, she wasn’t aware she even did it until now. She would leave them, she grabbed as many clothes of her old style she could fit into, there was only a couple of things. She saw her wedding dress.

“True Love.” She sneered under her breath. She realised now how wrong she had been. She wanted to cry but it would hurt too much and she didn’t have time right now, he could be gone for an hour or so, or a couple of days, she had to be fast. She grabbed a box from the bottom of the wardrobe, inside of it was her baby blanket, photographs of her family, and other memories.  

“Soph, slip your sneakers on, we’re going to go in a minute.” She went to Killian’s beside table, turning her nose up at the smell of his strong cologne, she knew he had some cash there, she grabbed the entire envelope full of cash leaving him nothing, it was less than he had taken from her over the years. His car keys weren’t there, but she hadn’t always been this shell of a woman she was right now, she had once stolen a car and later drove it to find her parents. She could do it again.

She lifted up the bags, making sure Sophie had her bag of toys, and they left their prison which not long ago they had been calling a home.

She used an old metal hanger to open up Killian’s car, he must have walked to whichever pub he was at now, she made quick work of hotwiring it, she opened the trunk and the backdoor, she quickly put the bags in the trunk and helped Sophie into her carseat in the back.

“Mommy, are we ever coming home?”

It was dark but Emma could see the dark bruise on Emma’s arm. “No, Sophie, we’re never coming back here. We’re going to have a new home, with Grandma and Grampa, and you’re never going to get hurt again.” She knew her daughter was looking confused and truthfully she felt confused too, she just had to get back to Storybrooke and then she could cry.

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About an hour away from Storybrooke Emma stopped at a superstore and grabbed a disposable cell. She put in her mom’s number but stopped before she pressed dial. She deleted the number and typed her father’s number instead, the same thing happened again, she just couldn’t press dial, she didn’t know what to say, how to explain, to explain that they had been right when they had asked her constantly if she was sure about marrying him so quickly. She had thought, hoped, she had shared true love with him. She had been so wrong, and both she and her daughter had suffered because of it, how could she admit that to them?

So instead she got back in her car and started to drive home, she could only tell them it in person, and she’d only be safe back in the barriers of her hometown.

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Snow and David jerked awake at the sound of a banging noise.

“Wha’?” David slurred, less than intelligently. He looked at his wife then towards their bedroom door. “Neal?”

Snow was already getting out of bed. “It’s the front door.”

David shot up. ”Let me get it, it could be-”

“- A burglar knocking on the door?” She managed to quip. She heard a soft and sleepy laugh from her husband.

“It wouldn’t be the first time. Jesus, who needs us so badly at four in the morning? They’re clearly evil.”

The two headed down the stairs together, hurrying when the knocking carried on and knocked harder, they didn’t want it waking their son.

David’s mouth fell open. “Emma…” He gasped. She was covered in bruises, her eye was swollen and her nose had crusted blood under it, and she was obviously pregnant. At her side was a little girl, a few years younger than Neal, his granddaughter who he hadn’t seen in nearly six years. She looked small and scared, cuddled against her mom, it was too late (or early) for her to be properly awake but he could see her assessing him as subtibly as she could, exactly like Emma had when the first curse had broken, all those years ago.

“Emma!” Snow quickly assessed her and her daughter, while David was looking a little dumbfounded, understandably. “Hello Sophie, I don’t think you remember me, but I’m your grandma.”

“Mommy told me stories about you, and showed me pictures.” Sophie kept a hold of her mom’s hand.

Snow hadn’t received a text from Emma in over a year. She had a feeling now that it wasn’t down to Emma.  “Well, it’s very nice to see you again.”

“Mom?” Emma’s voice caught in her throat, it came out too voice, and she fought the need to cry. “Can we stay here a while? Please?”

“Of course you can!”

“Of course!”

Both David and Snow said at the same time.

Emma was surprised at the lack of hesitation, she wasn’t used to that, not anymore. She allowed Snow to usher them inside She placed down the duffle in her hand onto the wooden floor of the hallway. There was a small thud as she did. Then she was pulled into their arms. She felt tears pour from her eyes her body shudder as she choked down sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t…”

David’s hand cupped the back of her head. “It’s not your fault. Em, I, you shouldn’t have had to, I should have stepped in. Where is he?” He whispered, his voice was strained, and he was trying his best to hide his anger from his granddaughter.

“He’s not here, he’s, we ran away, as soon as he left. He grabbed Soph, he hurt her arm, I think he wanted to hurt her more… he didn’t but… I couldn’t let him hurt her, or our next kid, I shouldn’t have stayed that long.”

“It’s not your fault sweetheart. He shouldn’t have done that, he’s at fault, not you. He’s never going to get into this town, I promise you.” Snow kissed the side of her head and felt her wince in response.

David did too because he crouched down next to his grandaughter. “Hey there Soph, I know this must have been a very scary day, both for you and your mommy. Have you had hot chocolate before?”

“M-Me and mommy have it when daddy’s not home.”

David gritted his teeth before relaxing to give her a small calm smile. “Do you want to help me make some hot chocolate? Grandma’s going to help clean your mommy up which is going to be pretty boring, and I’ll show you my secret recipe for it.”

Sophie looked to her mother. She bit her lip and fidgetted.

“It’s okay Sophie, you go with Grandpa, I’ll be right here.” Emma watched as her daughter headed to the kitchen with David.

“How far along are you?”

Emma did a quick double take at her mom as it took her a minute to realise what she said. “Oh, erm, 20 weeks, I think. I haven’t had a scan, I tried but Kil- Hook, he wouldn’t-”

Snow gently cupped her cheek. “Emma,” She interrupted, “you don’t have to explain or try to make excuses, we all understand it, and why it was so hard for you to leave. I grew up seeing my father being abusive to both my mother and Regina, and abusing me in a very different way than he abused them, I understand. Your father was neglected and abused by Robert, his mother experienced domestic violence, he understands. What’s good is that you left him, now the even harder part is that you have to rebuild, for you and your kids.”

“I- I don’t know if I can.”

“You can. And you won’t be alone, you have me, and your father, Henry, Neal, Regina, you have all of us. You’re staying here, god knows we have the room, and you’ll need help, both you and the kids, we’re here for you. We’ll take you to the hospital to get a checkup and a scan tomorrow, and we’ll sort out your and Sophie’s rooms.”

“Thank you.” Emma’s voice was quiet and broken and despite the pain in her face as she heard her daughter’s giggles coming from the kitchen. At least out of this entire horrible ordeal she had her kids, she could build them a better life, with the help of her parents. “I missed you guys, a lot.”

[washedupfae]

Monsters as characters from fairy tales?

UT! Papyrus: Sweep in, save the day Prince Charming. Sure he may not notice the back ground, cutesy animal side kicks actually doing the brunt of the hard work, such as a foe he didn’t happen to notice or a trap, as he boldly storms the castle.. But his soul is in the right place, so how can he lose?! Also could end up the tragic hero.

UT! Sans: This guy, THIS GUY.. he is the smart mouthed unlikely hero. Slothful until the last moment, guy has some serious four wall breaking skills as well. Usually found in comedies.... or the long suffering side kick to the prince charming.

US! Papyrus: Here we find the sort of character such as Westley from The Princess Bride. He would be happy enough just having a normal life, but is a wee bitch tricky, has a smart mouth, and loyal AF. He isn’t above lying to get past a foe either.

US!Sans : Though he would LOVE to be prince charming, Blue is more of.. I would say the bard of the story. Bubbly, full of energy, and happy to tell you exactly what went down. If he actually is involved, it is more or less one of those stories told from the inner monologue of the main character. He tries his best, but can end up a tragic story, to inspire another to accomplish great things, or defeat an ‘indestructible’ foe. Or he could be cast as the hopeless romantic Shepard boy in love with the noble’s daughter/son.

HT! Papyrus/Sugar version: He does not save the princess, HE IS THE PRINCESS. A magical princess, heck make him a magical girl if you want, but for some reason, he has been outsmarted, tricked, or trapped and needs assistance.

HT! Papyrus/Crooks version: The misunderstood monster. Legends spring up around him, the great beast in the woods, but he isn’t as scary as others let on.. sure he has killed to survive, but he was hungry or hurt! He would rather spend his time roaming his territory, admiring the beauty of the forest, rather then attacking travelers.

HT! Sans: The hunter. The hunter in Snow White is a good example. He will kill, he will easily kill.. but if you are pure of heart (and his loved ones not starving) you might be lucky enough to be released.. if this happens, you better believe he is watching out for you now. He doesn’t show mercy easily.

MT(MafiaTale)! Papyrus: The town tax collector with a heart of gold. Sure he has a job most people hate, but he does not abuse his power. Often times you can find adventuring quests from him, if the quest ends up helping his town of course.

MT!Sans: Leader of a band of cut throats and highway men, but with honor. Robin Hood in a sense, but he is out for his own of course. Whatever lead him to a life of crime, he is using it to stick it to his enemies. Light hearted most of the time, but will slice your throat if he has to. Good monster to befriend, Better not to piss off.

MF(Mafia Fell)! Papyrus: Once a great captain, a ‘man’ of the sea, his kingdom turned their back on him, now he has turned to piracy. There is a moral compass there, but it is pretty dusty and cracked. Your most likely to rescue a princess/prince or defeat a vicious foe, if it brings him some glory or coin. Will keep the princess/prince however, if  they are entertaining enough, and will toughen them up. Does not permit drinking in excess nor gambling among his crew.

MF! Sans: Scoundrel, pure out and simple. Need a noble poisoned? He knows a guy. Need the neighboring farmer to stop tearing down your fence to let his live stock feed on the greener grass? He has you covered. Always for the right price however. Skilled with subtly, slight of hand, and disguise.. this guy can slip through a city nearly undetected.. his weakness? Gambling, a pretty face, and drinking.. Much to his brother’s chagrin.

UF! Papyrus: Not the white knight, no.. he gave that role up years ago. He is your anti-hero, the black knight. Head strong and ready for a challenge, the path of the self righteous hero was dull, unrewarding, or perhaps he was betrayed?

UF! Sans: The information guy, a thief who has blackmail on many but known by few. Could easily run a thieves guild if he gave a damn. He may at one time have been a brave and proud adventuring, can you pry his back story out of him? No.. not easily at least.

SF/FS! Papyrus: Deadly is the best word for this guy. He most likely is the number one lackey for the villain of the story, why? Pay is good or maybe he owes some life debt. Doesn’t care about much anymore, another day another step closure to death. Can be redeemed.

SF/FS! Sans: The villain, or leader of the villain’s army with plans to over throw the villain. Not so easily redeemed but does have some sense of honor, mostly on the battle field, best him in single hand combat and he might listen to you.

OT! Papyrus: A powerful yet.. unskilled mage. Very flashy and very kind. A common sight at the local pub, but he rarely imbibes. He enjoys the atmosphere on happier days, the stories adventurers carry, and if it is a gloomy day, he will do his best to lift the spirits of those around him. Might become an unlikely hero.

OT! Sans: A very skilled mage who has taken to become a hermit. He wants to be left alone. He will however, not turn you away if you stumble upon his cabin, lost, hurt, starving, or in search of information. He has little time for idiots, but he will entertain you for an evening with magic based puns and humors, and then kick you out the next day. A possible quest giver.

SS(Storyshift)! Papyrus: The broken hearted noble or royal. He has abandoned his title, be it from losing it to a foe, or betrayal. Hiding away, he might be found in a village, far from his kingdom, humbled and living a simple life under a new name. Ready to help those in need, there is something heavy weighing over his head.

SS! Sans: The world weighs down on this King/Noble. He has to make the hard decisions. He may or may not be hated for his decrees, but only does what he thinks is fair and just for his people. Alone due to the loss of his Queen through illness or perhaps assassination from a rival, he keeps his soul closely guarded.. if he never opens up, then he can not be hurt again. His people need him. The sort of fairy tale king to send his child away, with the best intentions at heart, trying to escape a prophecy, only to discover later on that the promise of woe can not be escaped. He will look into every possible answer to save others if he can.

Did I miss anyone? Might do this for other monsters later on, had planned to but kinda hit the skeleton train on this one.

[wordsablaze]

#14: Curfews and Calls

Match of Magic What if destiny chose soulmates through literal aesthetic matches? What if education fused with impossibility and reality faded away? Dan and Phil must unite, work together and help each other live the best of all the worlds they can…

(Dan POV)

“No, I can’t go!” Liz complains, dumping the DVD cover directly on Eliza’s head by accident. Eliza grumbles but doesn’t mention it, something I’ve seen her do to us far too often in the past.

Ellie shakes her head, “Lee, come on, can you not go to tomorrow’s show?”

“I can’t! She won’t be there!” Liz explains, shaking her head, “She’s the best dancer….”

I grit my teeth as Florence walks in with a smug smirk, “Oh, what a shame.”

Realisation dawns on our faces as she moseys past, joining Mum because she knows we won’t argue with her. Liz fumes on the spot, “The downright lacklustre swine! I’m going to kill her.”

“I recommend exsanguination.”

Eliza stares at me, “How the hell do you even know what that is?”

I shrug, a small smile playing at my lips while Ellie collapses into fits of giggles at Eliza’s reaction. Liz grins despite her malice towards and Florence but Ellie eventually recovers and shakes her head in confusion, “What is it?”

“Death by blood drainage.” I reply, smiling at her.

Her eyebrows furrow as she ponders this, “You want to drain Florence of her blood? Where would you keep it?”

“Don’t be so literal!” Eliza laughs, nudging her, “We can donate it to a blood bank.”

“Hypocrite.” Liz mumbles, calming down slightly, with an alarmingly cheeky smile littered on her face, “You’ve got to catch me.”

And that’s all the warning we get before her eyelids flutter, she sways and topples to the ground in just less than a perfect faint. Eliza shrieks, I dive forward to try and ‘break her fall’ and Ellie yells as loud as she can despite Mum being a few meters away, “Lee! Mum! Mum, Lee’s fainted!”

Mum runs in and gasps in fright, carefully sitting Lee up as I let her go and pass her over. Lee moans, her face actually looking paler than before. I don’t know what her crazy drama courses involve but they’re definitely paying off. Mum fretfully checks her forehead and pulse, frowning, “Liz, what’s wrong?”

“Mum…” Liz groans softly, shivering.

Mum sighs and glances at our convincingly worried faces before shaking her head, “You’re going to have to stay home then.”

Liz winks at me, and obviously Florence, before nodding glumly, “Sorry, Mum. I know how much this meant to you; I can try to…” she trails off, 'weakly’ sitting up and falling back down.

Mum shakes her head, “No, young lady, you’re on bed rest. I don’t want to see you out of bed until you’re fully better, you understand me?”

Liz nods, just smug enough for us to notice, for Mum to believe her, and for Florence to realise her plan failed, before she leans on Eliza, who shrugs, “I’ll tuck her in; you can get ready?”

Mum smiles, “Alright, thanks.”

Florence throws her hands up and sulks out of the living room as I quietly high-five Ellie, Liz and Eliza going upstairs, most likely to discuss what casual outfit could double as a dance costume in case she needs to spontaneously join in.

Forty minutes later, we’re heading out.

Mum frowns as she sees, “I wish Liz could have come.”

“That’s okay, Mum, she can see your garden another time.” Eliza beams reassuringly. 

Mum nods in acceptance and we head out, walking there because she doesn’t want to pollute the air with toxic car fumes. Well, I don’t want to pollute my feet with pain just before tomorrow’s P.E lesson.

Why do your feet hurt?

I almost jump out of my skin, recovering from my instantaneous heart palpitations. I know Phil’s probably both laughing and feeling guilty so I just shake my head at myself, chuckling inwardly.

We’re walking a couple of miles…

Is that it?

I can practically hear the smile on his face, but I know that he understands.

Sorry, I’ve got to – ow – go! Catch you later, alligator!

Laughing at his infantile rhyming and concurrently worrying if he’s hurt himself somehow, I stay silent while we walk. Eliza nudges me as we get there and I smile at her gratefully before painting a polite expression on my face. Mum’s co-managers are quick to greet her and hurriedly usher us all inside, leading the way to the back door of the building. When we get there, I wince at the sight of the crowd waiting with awkwardly delighted smiles on their faces.

Ellie shakes her head, “Liz better have gotten in.”

“Of course she has, nitwit. Say it any louder, would you?” Eliza reprimands, but not unkindly.

I snort, disguising it as Mum beams at us, her face flushed with excitement. She and one of her friends make a short speech to thank everyone and officially declare the new peaceful community gardens open, which is followed by an explosion of cheering and clapping but a lack of whistling because that’s supposedly too rambunctious.

I roll my eyes and find a small space for myself, regretting that I hadn’t managed to bring anything with me. Resorting to my phone, I slip in earphones, my headphones banned because Mum thinks their anti-social vibe would ruin the vibe, and shut my eyes.

You look tired.

I am tir – wait, what?!

My eyes fly open so fast I have to blink to clear away the brightness, but I can’t miss Phil’s chocolate fringe standing out to me in the crowd. I think it’s just me because everyone else walks past like he’s not even there or with only a small, appreciative glance to his shirt. I can feel myself smiling as he gives me a small wave, his perky blue shirt too celestial for the foliage behind him.

Aren’t you going to come any closer?

Only if you don’t mind me intruding your solitude?

I can’t fathom even a single response to that so he smiles and walks over, narrowly avoiding a crash with someone who looks ready for vengeance before settling beside me with a smile, “Hey.”

“Hi. What are you doing here?”

Without letting him reply, I feel my face flame, “I don’t mean I’m against it; I was only wondering because you live in the other side…?”

He laughs, a mirthfully bright noise I hadn’t thought could exist outside of fairy tales and nods, “I know, I’m not meant to be here, really, but I work here sometimes.”

“You do?” I ask, bemused. I’ve never seen him here before. Then again, I don’t frequent the place enough to notice who comes and goes.

Phil nods, ducking his head slightly, “Only if I need money for something.”

The flicker of a frown lands on my face before I smile it away, “You sound mature or something.”

“Eh, selectively.”

I find myself grinning, a soft laugh slipping between my lips when Phil shrugs. He gives me a purely happy look, his hand brushing against mine. It doesn’t require immense thought to choose my reaction, slotting my hand inside his warm one and watching his face light up when I do.

Your hands are almost too cold.

Sorry.

He pauses, sending me a soft, mildly amused look. I go to unlink our hands but he tightens his grip just enough to let me know he’s okay with my hands being colder than his, loosening it again after a few seconds and tilting his head, “Why did you walk here?”

“Mum: she doesn’t want to cause pollution.”

“Oh, that’s great isn’t it?”

“Yeah, sure, but I had to walk so far to get here.”

“So did I.” he tells me and I immediately feel guilty because at least I live close to this place; he must have walked for ages but I’m the one sat here complaining when he’s far more entitled to.

He must catch my expression as he adds, “But I came here when it was lighter outside so it was easier.”

“Stop being so kind.” I comment without missing a beat, my filter apparently broken.

He smiles so wide his teeth become visible, “I don’t think so.”

A familiar alarm goes off somewhere and I groan, standing up. Phil looks confused as I help him up so I sigh, “We have an evening curfew.”

“But it’s still early?”

“Yeah, we’re weird.” I admit, almost laughing, “I’ll see you later?”

“Sure.” He smiles, heading straight for the road.

I’ve never disliked our curfew more. Why do we even have one? I debate on whether or not to ask Mum but end up sticking with my original decision not to because I’ve never gotten an answer before and I doubt now will be any different. It’s still annoying…

I wonder how his curfew works or if they even have one, also trying to find Mum again. I see Eliza first and join her as she finishes her conversation.

“Yo.”

“Where’d you go?” she asks in return, fixing her hair, “You missed the cake.”

“The one drowned in flowers?”

Ellie jumps on Eliza’s shoulders, nodding to me, “Yup. Don’t stress; it was awful!”

Mum smiles as she sees us, “Ready to head back?”

“Yeah.” Florence says for all of us, none of us caring enough to correct her.

Eliza looks up from her phone with a calm smile, “Liz says she’s going to make herself hot chocolate.”

Meaning that she’s successfully back home and everything went well. Mum nods, “Okay, that’s good. Tell her she can’t have marshmallows.”

Eliza pretends to do this as we walk back, my feet protesting even though they probably shouldn’t be allowed. Just as planned, we get back right on time – early even – and Mum starts to set the table while we 'freshen up’.

I’m not surprised when Mum doesn’t inquire about Phil during dinner: she’s always busy with work or spending time with Florence. We have a borderline awkward meal, each of us eating the macaroni and cheese that Liz cooked for us earlier and re-heated because Mum forgot about it. Ellie and Eliza are clearing up today so I head upstairs to get some homework done before Phil’s show.

It’s not hard work so it’s done easily, except for the maths work that I totally give up on, and I log into YouTube just as I get the alert that he’s live. I laugh at his rather simple liveshow name of 'October the 19th’ but know he only does that because he doesn’t want to deceive or disappoint anyone with extravagant titles or clickbait – not that he’s ever disappointed anyone.

Well, he shouldn’t have done but there’s always going to be stupid people who don’t appreciate him being a literal sunshine. The descriptions he writes are wild enough to make up for the just less than amazing titles anyway.

I smile for the entire time, my grin still strong – possibly stronger – as Phil nears the end of his one hour live show, the whole thing seeming better to me this time because I’ve met him in person like I’d always only hoped. To my shock, he tells me and the internet, obviously, that he’s met his match and can’t wait to tell us more about them if they’re willing.

I laugh, wondering what he’s going to think and say when I tell him I’ve been waiting almost forever to be in one of his videos.

Phil quickly gives a vague, yet secretly detailed if you know what he’s referencing, description of me but not one that I could actually be recognised by. His perpetually compassionate nature still makes me smile, despite having witnessed it on more than several occasions.

Phil waves, telling us that his time is up, before asking for people’s plans and offering his: he’s going to try and call someone. I smile and type in the comments that I’d love to receive that call, before I can think about it. I scowl at own faulty inability to refrain from doing things I might regret in future as I gasp, “Damn.”

Phil chuckles as he reads my comment, which I hadn’t expected him to, and a few others, ending the video with a cute wave and his hand covering the camera like usual. The screen fades as he ends the stream so I read through the previous comments, reading a lot about him being lucky to meet his match and people already shipping it despite not knowing who it is, or rather who I am. I don’t log off, even when there’s nothing left but a blank box, watching as people carry on talking but not wanting to add anything myself and ruin their conversations.

My phone starts to ring.

I roll my eyes, then frown at the 'unknown’ flashing on the screen. Deciding that I have nothing to lose, I answer, then panic.

I panic because of who it is.

I panic because, even though I’ve thought about this for years, I’m not prepared.

“Hey, Dan?” Phil’s voice shines through the phone, a little echoed.

My voice gets lost on the way to my mouth and I have to cough to try and reboot my larynx. I exhale nervously and nod for no reason, “Yeah?”

“Are you okay? Is this a bad time?”

“No! It’s a wonderful time. Hey.”

“Hey.” Phil laughs, “Are you free?”

“No, I’m priceless.” I mutter but Phil hears and laughs, soon followed by a thud.

He clears his throat, “Sorry, that was my headphones falling off the table.”

“Klutz.” I joke, rolling my eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” He replies, “That probably wasn’t a great first impression.”

I decide not to tell him over the phone that my first impression of him was three years ago, on a black-and-white video blog.

Instead, I laugh, “Doesn’t matter, you’re stuck with me anyway.”

“True. Are your feet better?”

“Yeah…” I let my reply fizzle out as he laughs,

“Good luck with athletics.”

I only groan in response.

“Seems like you can’t wait.” He jokes and I can’t avoid laughing, his optimistic comments apparently contagious.

“How did you get my number?” I ask, curious. We’d forgotten to exchange numbers during the day and we only just saw each other at the garden ceremony so I’m not sure where he got it.

He goes quiet for a moment, “I may have looked it up on the school website.”

“What? How?” I ask, leaning forward with a frown.

“Uh…” Phil trails off but I smirk,

“You’ve got to teach me how to do that!”

I can hear him sigh with relief, “Sure, why not? You into computers?”

I am, but only since I started watching Phil’s vlogs. I nod, then chide myself for stupidly gesturing to someone over the phone before replying, “Yeah, of course. But school’s kind of … boring.”

“Definitely!” he agrees, our conversation flowing easily after that. We talk for hours, and have to stop when he yawns, and, in turn, causes me to yawn as well. I smile, “Night, Phil.”

“Night, Dan.” He yawns again, then ends our call. I smile sleepily, too tired to change my clothes. It’s around one am, so we’ve talked for three hours or so without a break. I plug my phone in the charger and let my head hit the pillow as my eyes shut, entering a dreamless sleep.

like/reblog but don’t repost, thanks!