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r0tten-brainz · 3 years

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hey do you want my carrie fix it au? no?

too bad!!!

Everything seemed to stop when the blood was dumped on Carrie. All the cheers and applause was cut off by shocked gasps and silence. Wide eyes stared upon the stage at their prom queen, now drenched in red sludge, her beautiful dress ruined.

Tommy Ross, the prom king, was staring at his date, some of the liquid (blood, literal blood, he realizes in horror) splashing all over his rental tuxedo. After the initial shock, anger bubbled in his chest so quickly his ears turned red and he turned to the crowd, searching for who could’ve done something so awful, his shouts of “What the hell?!” cutting through the quiet.

In the front row, George Dawson seemed to have the same reaction, he always was quick to anger but now he had a fair reason to. He was disgusted someone would do this, and almost everyone around him agreed. Almost.

It only took a minute for Norma to snort, and double over to quiet her laughter. A few others chuckled but otherwise they were alone in finding this funny.

The only one who hadn’t moved was Carrie. She was frozen, mouth agape and eyes wide. She only moved when the bucket itself came crashing down, right onto Tommy. She tried to catch him but he just collapsed onto the stage, groaning in pain.

People knew immediately something was off when she stood up straight, shoulders back and arms extending out at her sides. The ones who were laughing decided they wanted to leave, the pungent smell of the stale blood getting gross and killing their good time.

There were a few shouts of confusion and fear when the doors suddenly slammed shut and the room was flooded in red light. When one of the jocks tried to open it, he yelled in pain, like the door handle burned him.

That’s what made Tommy stir on the ground, his head aching and warmth trailing down his face. When he looked up the gym was in chaos, people screaming and trampling each other to find a way out. One guy, someone Tommy knew, had climbed up to try the window, but he was flung off like a bug. A squeaking noise made him look up and the fire sprinklers flipped on.

Murky water fell over everyone, only adding to the rotten smell permeating what with the blood also having its own stench. Tommy’s breath caught as he looked around, his eyes finally landing on Carrie.

She seemed unresponsive, barely even blinking as the chaos unfolded around her, like she was in the middle, stirring up the misfortune herself.

“Carrie- huff,” Tommy started, pulling himself up off the ground. His head spun and he nearly got sick with everything mixing around him, his stomach was never the strongest. “Carrie, we have to get you out of here.”

She didn’t move, didn’t even look at him, just tilted her chin up indignantly. The lights above them suddenly sparked, clearly not mixing well with the water. That frightened Tommy a lot, they could all die, and it seemed that’s probably what Carrie was aiming for.

“Carrie!” Tommy tried again, grabbing onto her shoulders. His breath was getting more frantic as he looked around behind him. “Carrie, listen to me. Look at me, Carrie.”

She blinked then, eyes focusing on the boy in front of her. She looked like she was on the brink of tears. When she noticed the blood flowing down his face it only made her feel worse.

“Is this why?” Her voice was quiet, if Tommy had been any further away he wouldn’t have been able to hear. “Is this why you asked me to go with you?”

A devastated look crossed over Carrie’s face. “So you could laugh at me?” Tommy gulped, really starting to feel sick now, realizing that in some sick way this was partially his fault. “She was right, I shouldn’t have come, I shouldn’t have-”

“No! Carrie, if I knew it wouldn’t have happened! I didn’t know- I swear whoever did this is dead.” He shouted, his grip on her shoulders tightening. “Please, you need to calm down. Just breathe, we can get you out of here.”

Flames caught his eye, the curtain behind them was on fire. They needed to go, now. Carrie sniffled, the tears finally falling. “They all laughed at me, they laughed…”

Tommy looked back at the crowd then back to Carrie. “No one laughed, no one did Carrie.” She let out a breath like she’d been holding it. The heat from the fire was getting unbearable.

“Do you swear?” Carrie whispered, looking up at him. She was in agony, he could see it clear on her face.

“Carrie, I swear.” Tommy holds out his arms for her, finally stepping back to lead her away from the gym. He could hear sirens approaching.

Carrie looked out a final time before the doors swung open and the students flooded out. The air was cool which was relieving to everyone. She took his hands then, and he led her off the stage out to the cool evening air.

Sue Snell pushed her way through everyone, Frank Green (notoriously known as the Beak) and George at her side, searching through the scared faces for Tommy and Carrie. “There they are!” She shouts, grabbing her friends and making their way over to the pair.

Tommy perked up at the sound of Sue’s voice, carefully leading Carrie to the grass so they could sit. Further away from everyone. Sue ran over and pulled Tommy down into a hug. Beak and George made their way over a second after, clearly left behind in the madness behind them.

Whispers were exchanged between the group, everyone sparing sympathetic glances to Carrie every once in a while. Carrie just sunk in on herself, Trying to calm herself down enough so she could walk home, figuring she messed up their night enough.

It surprised her all when they all sat around her, Tommy to her left and Sue on the other side. Beak and George settled across from them.

They didn’t talk, no one really knew what to say. It was Carrie who broke the silence. “I ruined your plans with your friends, didn’t I?”

Tommy just shook his head as he shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders. “No,” he assured her. “You didn’t do anything wrong at all, actually.”

Carrie blinked up at him, tears threatening to fall again but she willed them away and sank into the coat. If it was salvageable before, it’s definitely ruined now. Tommy wondered if the rental place had it in their hearts to cut them some slack.

“Carrie I- we- are so sorry,” Sue spoke up, reaching to hold her hand. “I tried to stop it, if I knew they were planning something I wouldn’t have asked, that was so cruel.” She whispered the end of her apology, like she couldn’t believe it had happened.

Carrie ducks her head. “I shouldn’t have come,” she says back. “Mama was right I shouldn’t have.” The group share worried glances, but they’ll unpack that later.

George sneers. “Don’t you think like that, it was fun at the beginning right?” Carrie glances up to him and nods. “Right! Don’t you worry, whoever did this will pay.” Frank nods along beside him, patting him on the shoulder encouragingly. “So inspiring.” Beak always did like to make a joke, to lighten the mood when things were heavy.

Tommy’s arm tucks around her, pulling Carrie closer to comfort her. “Even if it all ended bad, we’re all together, right?” He looked down to her, waiting for the response. Even now he’s pushing her gently, to get her out there. Maybe this is Tommy’s super power. She had telekinesis and he was good at making anyone comfortable, even Carrie White.

“Right,” she finished for him, which made Tommy smile. In return it made Carrie smile. Sue reached and brushed some bloody hair out of Carrie’s face.

“Wow, Sue,” Beak starts. “Before too long Carrie might steal Tommy from you curled up to him like that. Sue laughed and Carrie smiled, cheeks flushing red under the caked up blood.

Tommy grinned and shot him a look. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you beat her to it and steal me yourself, smart guy?”

Beak opened his mouth but was quickly cut off by George. “Oi! Don’t be comin’ onto my man y’ hear?” He shot back, elbowing Frank with a grin.

Tommy felt Carrie’s shoulders bouncing, but when he looked to her to see if she was crying, a small grin graced her face and quiet giggles bubbled up. Despite it all she was laughing. It made something twist in Tommy’s chest, he had to make himself look away.

“It isn’t much,” Sue starts. “But if you all wanted to stop by my house to get cleaned up, maybe we could still go to the Hive.” Carrie perks up, of course Sue was invited, why wouldn’t she be?

George whooped excitedly. “You’re a lifesaver, Susan, I really need a shake after all this.” Everyone cheered in agreement.

“Carrie?” Tommy said quietly. She looked up to him, still smiling a little. “Would that be okay?” He was so patient with her.

Commotion caught her attention though and she looked past Tommy towards the gym. The flames had been dealt with it’d seem, but that’s not what she’s looking at.

Two police officers were taking Chris Hargensen and Billy Nolan out of the school, Chris kicking and shouting the whole way to the car. Miss Collins watched them go, nothing but anger in her eyes. It only made Carrie’s smile widen. She hoped she’d never have to see Chris ever again after this.

“Yes,” she finally replied. “That seems fun.” Tommy grinned and stood, offering his hands to Carrie first to help her stand, then to Sue. “No help for me?” Frank joked. “Shut up, Beak,” Tommy joked back.

The rest of the night was filled with similar jokes, everything being kept lighthearted (lucky for Carrie, she may fall apart if anything else bad happened). The Hive was so much better than she imagined. They had delicious waffle fries, and soda flavors she didn’t know existed, she and Sue even shared an ice cream. Everything was perfect. She prayed to God that come Monday morning she wouldn’t be forgotten by Tommy Ross, or any of them.

#carrie 1976 #carrie white #tommy ross #sue snell #george dawson #frank green #the beak #fic #au #fix it fic

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james-joyces-right-eyeball · 3 years

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Absolute Favorite Books I’d Recommend to Anyone

This is a list of my top-tier favorite books that I would recommend/talk about endlessly to pretty much anyone (in no particular order). I know people probably don’t care but I just like talking about books I love so here we are.

Beloved - Toni Morrison

~ Based off the real story of Margaret Garner, a slave woman who escaped slavery and when captured killed her child in order to prevent them from ever being enslaved again, Beloved tells the story of a mother named Sethe, born in slavery who eventually escaped and is haunted by the figurative demons of her trauma and the literal (arguably) ghost of her dead daughter, who she herself killed. It is an excellent exploration of the horrors of slavery and of the haunting legacy of the institution for those who were subjected to it.

Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov

~ If you’ve been on Tumblr for a while, you probably know what Lolita is. The story of the predatory Humbert Humbert who lusts after, rapes, and kidnaps the “nymphet” Dolores Haze. An excellent construction of how predators, unreliable narrators in their own right, hide behind fabrications, almost-believable excuses, and pretty words to make their actions seem maybe not so bad. In the words of the book itself, “You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.”

Ulysses - James Joyce

~ Notoriously one of the most difficult books in the English language, Ulysses lifts its structure from Homer’s Odyssey to tell the story of a common man, Leopold Bloom, as he goes about his day. Yes, this book takes place over the course of only one day. We follow Bloom as well as Joyce’s literary counterpart Stephen Daedalus through their thoughts and actions, gathering details of their lives previous throughout. It’s a book that, in my own words, “is life”. It is sad, funny, strange, vulgar, disgusting, beautiful, revelatory, sensual, and nonsensical all at once. Joyce aimed to create a reflection of life through his stream-of-consciousness style which some people might find confusing, but I personally find absolutely beautiful and honest and realistic. The prose is also gorgeous, but that could be applied to everything Joyce wrote.

Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte

~ The classic gothic book that tells the tale of Heathcliff and his ultimately destructive love of Catherine Earnshaw, whose eventual marriage to someone else and the general mistreatment of him by her family drives Heathcliff insane and he spends the rest of his life trying to take revenge by abusing and torturing the next Earnshaw and Linton (the family into which Catherine marries) generations. If I’m being honest, I like this book mostly because of how wild and dark it is, but the writing is also genius and beautiful. I think the book also carries an interesting view of the destructive nature of revenge, overzealous love, and othering.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn - Betty Smith

~ A coming-of-age story at the turn of the century that tells the story of Francie Nolan, a young bookish girl growing up in a lower class family in New York City. It tells about her father’s struggles with alcoholism as well as her mother’s struggles to deal with that and at the same time raise Francie and her brother. Francie is confronted with a strange, uncertain world as a young girl, but tries to face it with bravery throughout childhood

Little Women - Louisa May Alcott

~ Another coming-of-age story, this time about four young sisters: Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy March. You are probably familiar with this book already; it’s had more movie adaptations then I can possibly remember off the top of my head. It’s the story of four sisters as they try to navigate growing up, love, and loss during the mid to late 1800s.

The Color Purple - Alice Walker

~ A novel that tells the story of Celie, a young black woman who is raped and then married young to a man who will go on to use and abuse her, through her letters to God. Throughout the novel she meets Shug Avery, a woman with whom she eventually falls in love and begins a relationship with. Through this and her eventual freedom from her abusive husband, she is able to gain at last her own sense of self and take back control over her life, a life no longer ruled by the abusive men around her.

The Bluest Eye - Toni Morrison

~ The tragic story of young black girl Pecola Breedlove, who wants nothing more than to have blonde hair and blue eyes just like the women she sees in the movies. Both a deconstruction of the whiteness of beauty standards as well as how these standards can utterly destroy vulnerable young girls, it is also an exploration of the people who allow these sorts of things to happen, including Pecola’s mother and father. The Bluest Eye, I think, showcases one of the aspects of Toni Morrison that I like the most, that I aspire to the most: her ability to enter the minds of all people, even people who you might despise at first. Her characters, especially Cholly in The Bluest Eye, are ones you might not entirely sympathize with, but they will always be ones you understand.

The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath

~ Based off of the author’s own experiences as a young college student, The Bell Jar tells the story of Esther Greenwood, whose depression over her place as a woman in a patriarchal society as well as her inability to choose a life path for herself leads to a suicide attempt and a subsequent stay in a mental hospital. A very nuanced portrayal of mental illness, especially anxiety and depression, The Bell Jar is an extremely moving and relatable story for me and clearly is as well for others. It is a classic for a reason.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings - Maya Angelou

~ A memoir of Angelou’s childhood, this book tells the story of her experiences living as a black girl in the south with her grandmother and brother as well as her later years living with her mother. It also tells of how she was raped by her mother’s boyfriend when she was around eight or nine, and how she struggled to live with that and find her voice, both literally and figuratively. A wonderful book about overcoming struggles and the power of words and literature in such times.

Invisible Man - Ralph Ellison

~ Ellison’s novel tells the story of a young black man, never getting a name in the text, and his feelings of invisibility and his struggles to find a place in society to belong. His struggles only lead him further into despair, until he decides to “become invisible” as people seem not to see him as a person anyway. Invisible Man is an exploration of American mid-century racism and the isolation it causes to those subjected to it. Not only that, but it is surprisingly relevant to our times now, especially on the subject of police violence. (Personal anecdote: When I first read this book, when I got to the aforementioned police violence part it was right in the middle of the BLM resurgence last summer and I cried for a good twenty minutes while reading that chapter over how nothing had changed and it still hurts me to think about it. Embarrassingly, my dad walked in on me while I was crying, and I had to quickly explain it away.)

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man - James Joyce

~ The title basically says it all lol. This book tells of the coming-of-age of Stephen Daedalus (the same one from the later-written Ulysses). His sensitive childhood, his awkward and lustful adolescence, his feelings of Irish nationality and Catholic guilt, and his struggles to fully realize himself, both as an artist and a human being. It is a very hopeful story, and one that I love mostly because I relate so much to Stephen Daedalus as an artist and as a person.

One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

~ A magical-realist intergenerational family drama, Marquez’s book traces the various lives and loves of the Buendia family over the course of (you guessed it!) one hundred years. A beautifully written, at times extremely emotionally moving and chilling masterpiece, Marquez in a way retells the history of Colombia, of its colonization and exploitation.

Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy

~ A classic Russian novel of society and love, Tolstoy tells the story of Anna Karenina, married, wealthy woman with a child she adores. However, she falls in love with another man, Count Vronsky, and comes to a tragic end for her love. The parallel story of the novel is that of Konstantin Levin, a wealthy landowner who also struggles to find fulfillment in his life and understand his place in society.

The Sound and the Fury - William Faulkner

~ A novel that features an entire family of unreliable narrators, The Sound and the Fury details the fall of a once-prominent southern Compson family and always-present place of the past. There are four different narratives: Benjy Compson, a mentally disabled man who is unsure of his surroundings and of time and only knows that he misses his older sister Caddy; Quintin Compson, the eldest son and a Harvard man both obsessed with his sister retaining her “purity” and the fact that she failed to do so and had a baby out of wedlock, going as far to claim it is his baby in an attempt to preserve something of the family reputation; Jason Compson, who is the caretaker of Caddy’s daughter and believes her to be going down her mother’s “sinful” path; and Dilsey, the black maid of the Compson’s who unlike the people she cares for is not weighed down by their history. The narratives take place in different time periods and is in a stream-of-consciousness style. It’s a deeply dark and disturbing novel about the haunting nature of the past, a common theme in Faulkner’s work (see Absalom, Absalom! for more of this).

Song of Solomon - Toni Morrison

~ It is the story of Milkman Dead, a young black man growing up in the south and his relationship with his very complicated family. To say anymore would be to spoil the novel, but I will say that it is an excellent book about family, self-fulfillment in a world that tries to deny you that, and, like The Bluest Eye, exhibits Morrison’s excellent character work.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof - Tennessee Williams

~ A play which takes place on the patriarch of a family’s birthday in the oppressive heat of the midsummer south, Williams’ play explores lies, secrets, and how repression only results in anger, frustration, and sadness. It’s a tragic but brilliant play that I think was very ahead of its time. If you’ve read it (or do read it) then you know what I mean.

Giovanni’s Room - James Baldwin

~ This book tells the story of a young man and his love of another man named Giovanni while he is in Paris. It is a book about love, queer guilt, and has what I would call an ambiguous ending. There is uncertainty at the end, but there does seem to be some kind of acceptance. It is a bit of a coming-out story, but more than that it is a story of personal acceptance and at the same time a sad, tragic love story.

HERmione - H.D.

~ An underrated modernist masterpiece, HERmione is a somewhat fictionalized account of the author, Hilda Doolittle’s, experience as a young aspiring poet dating another poet (in real life Ezra Pound in this book named George Lowndes) who is a threat to her both physically and emotionally. It explores her own mental state, as she considers herself a failure and falls in love with a woman for the first time (Fayne Rabb in the book, Frances Gregg in real life).

To the Lighthouse - Virginia Woolf

~ People think about going to a lighthouse. They do not. A couple years and a war passes then they do. That may seem like a boring plot, and you may be right. However, To the Lighthouse is not much about plot. It is more about the inner lives of its characters, a family and their friends, on two different occasions of their lives: one before WWI and one after WWI. Woolf explores in this novel the trauma that results from such a massive loss of life and security. Not only that, she also explores the nature of art (especially in female artists) in the character of Lily Briscoe and her struggles to complete a painting. It’s a short novel, but it contains so much about life, love, and loss within these few pages.

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter - Carson McCullers

~ A southern gothic novel about isolation and loneliness in a small town. Every character has something to separate them from wider society, and often find solace and companionship in a deaf man, John Singer, who himself experiences a loneliness that they cannot understand. There are various forms of social isolation explored in this novel: by race, disability, age, gender, etc. A wonderful, heart-wrenching book about loneliness and the depths it can potentially drag people to.

The Waste Land - T.S. Eliot

~ A modernist masterpiece of a poem, Eliot describes feeling emptiness and isolation. The brilliance of it can only be shown by an excerpt:

“Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, Looking into the heart of light, the silence.”

“The river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed. Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song. The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers, Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed. And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors; Departed, have left no addresses. By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept . . . Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song, Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long. But at my back in a cold blast I hear The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear. “

(My personal favorite line from this poem is, “I will show you fear in a handful of dust.”)

The Trial - Franz Kafka

~ The protagonist of the novel, Josef K., wakes up one morning to find that he has been placed under arrest for reasons that are kept from him. Kafka creates throughout the novel a scathing satire of bureaucracy, as K. tries to find out more about his case, more about his trial, but only becomes more confused as he digs deeper. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to the world he lives in, and the more tries to explain it the further the more that proves to be the case. An excellently constructed novel and a great one to read if you would like to be depressed about the state of the world because, though Kafka’s work is a satire, like a lot of his other work, it manages to strike a strangely real note.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead - Tom Stoppard

~ An absurdist play that is a retelling of Shakespeare’s Hamlet from the perspective of minor characters, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who in the broad overview of the original play, do not matter. Throughout the play, they question their existence and the purpose of it and through that Stoppard dissects not only the absurdity of life, but how fiction and theater reflect that absurdity inadvertently.

As I Lay Dying - William Faulkner

~ The novel details the journey the Bundren family makes after the death of the family matriarch, Addie, to bury her. Each chapter offers a different narrative from the family members and those who surround them, revealing some ulterior motives to them “going to town” to bury Addie. The patriarch Anse desires a pair of false teeth, and the daughter Dewey Dell is pregnant and needs an abortion, as there is no way for her or her family to support it. It’s about the powerlessness of people in the impoverished south. The Bundrens are constantly subject to forces beyond their control, struggles which would be easily solved if they had the money to spare for it. There is more to the book, but that is my favorite reading of it, that of class. Faulkner’s ability to create distinct voices for every one of his characters shines through here.

And, last but not least:

The Collected Poems - Sylvia Plath

~ All the poems Plath wrote during her tragically short lifetime. The best way to demonstrate or summarize the book’s brilliance is just to show you. This is her poem “Edge”, which appears in the book:

“The woman is perfected. Her dead Body wears the smile of accomplishment, The illusion of a Greek necessity Flows in the scrolls of her toga, Her bare Feet seem to be saying: We have come so far, it is over. Each dead child coiled, a white serpent, One at each little Pitcher of milk, now empty. She has folded Them back into her body as petals Of a rose close when the garden Stiffens and odors bleed From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower. The moon has nothing to be sad about, Staring from her hood of bone. She is used to this sort of thing. Her blacks crackle and drag.”

HOPE YOU ENJOYED! HAPPY READING TO ALL!

#dark academia #books and literature #toni morrison #james joyce #tennessee williams #virginia woolf #william faulkner #sylvia plath #plays #poetry #can you tell i like southern and modernist lit lol?

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lilacmoon83 · 4 years

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A Darker Curse

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 24: Calm Before the Storm

Michael paced the floor impatiently, as they waited for the DNA results.

"You know, I don't even know why we're doing this? What does it matter if that guy is her father or not?" he asked. Greg raised an eyebrow.

"So you're not just a tad curious? I mean, what if it's true? Cause if it is...I sure as hell want to know how it's possible. It could mean that more is going on here than we can imagine," Greg replied.

"Did the district attorney even approve this little detour? Because I've been in law enforcement a long time and the district attorney just wants this conviction, I can assure you. He or she won't give a damn about some paternity test," Michael snapped. Greg rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"Then call my boss, because regardless...I think this is important. I don't why yet, but this town is lousy with something weird and I want to know everything. This I think is where it starts," Greg replied. Michael was about to call him on his bluff and make the call when the doctor came out. He had introduced himself as Dr. Whale and the seasoned detective could tell that the results had shocked the doctor.

"The results you asked for are back," he said.

"Took you long enough," Greg complained.

"Yes...well when you told me who the subjects were, I had to run it three times just to make sure it was right. But it is," he said, as he handed the folder to him. Greg opened it.

"Familial match is nearly one hundred percent," he read.

"Wait...familial match. Couldn't that mean that they're siblings?" Michael asked. But Greg shook his head.

"No...those would be hitting different markers. I tested Emma Swan against David Nolan and he is biologically her father. I don't know how it's possible, but he fathered her. He's even the same blood type," he mentioned.

"And this story he told about Swan's mother and her being forced to leave to save their daughter?" Michael asked suspiciously.

"Well...I don't remember anything like that, but it wouldn't surprise me if they had to run from Cora. Our former Mayor, up until her ousting, ruled this town with an iron fist. If she wanted something...she got it," Whale replied.

"Why didn't anyone ever report her for abuse of power or any of her supposed crimes?" Michael questioned in frustration.

"Do you really think someone willing to kill a child, if his story is true, would leave any evidence? Or that anyone would be brave enough to report her?" Whale asked, as he walked away.

"He's right…" another voice said, as they turned to see a ginger haired man with a dalmatian.

"I am sorry to eavesdrop, but you must know that Cora Mills is a monster. She thinks nothing of violating a person, whether it be their privacy or physically," the man said.

"And you are?" Greg asked

"Dr. Archie Hopper...I'm a psychiatrist," he answered.

"And do you have any examples of this abuse?" Michael asked. Archie smiled thinly.

"Too many. I would say David has suffered more than most under the elite people in this town. He even tried talking to me, only for Cora and his ex to threaten me for counseling him and then stealing his confidential files," Archie said.

"And no one did anything?" Michael asked skeptically. Archie handed him a copy of a recent newspaper.

"Now that she's not in power anymore, the people are taking their power back and exposing just a little of what Cora and her cronies are responsible for," he said, referring to the article written by August Swan.

"I know you gentleman did not ask for my input, but if you are going after a wonderful family like the Swans, and that includes David Nolan now, then you're going after the wrong family," Archie said, as he moved along. Michael sighed.

"As interesting as all of this is...it's way above my pay grade," he complained.

"Are you going to call the state police in for this?" Greg asked.

"I really don't see how we have any other choice," Michael replied.

"Maybe we do. Hold off for at least another day," Greg said.

"But we're leaving tomorrow!" Michael called, as the assistant district attorney walked away.

"No...we're not," Greg called back. But that was unacceptable to Michael and he decided he was going to call Greg Mendel's boss. There was definitely something lousy in this town like he had said, but he was beginning to think that there was also something off about this man as well.

~*~

Snow and David arrived home at the loft and he led her inside. She sighed and collapsed on the couch. He closed the door and locked it, before collapsing next to her. She sniffed, but felt safe and protected in his arms, as she cuddled against him. He dropped a kiss on her head.

"They're not taking her," he promised again and she looked up at him.

"Even if we have to go live like bandits?" she asked, only half joking. He smiled.

"Any life with you would be wonderful...even one as bandits," he promised. She took his hands in her own.

"You were so strong for me back there, even after everything you've been through with Kathryn," she said.

"I still have things to work through. I guess it's easier now with my memories though," he explained.

"It doesn't erase what happened...but I can't blame her completely. It's Cora that is the reason for all of this," he replied.

"Which scares me...because I know her. I'm worried about what she's going to try next," she feared.

"Me too...but she has no magic here. That's in our favor and I'm going to fight whatever she throws at us and I don't care what I have to do to neutralize her, even if it means I have to take her out myself," he admitted.

"There was a time when you stopped me from doing that...to save me from darkening my heart. How can I not stop you from doing the same?" she asked, troubled by that. He sighed and knew exactly the time she was referring to.

~*~

Snow glared at the Queen, as she emerged from her carriage. She took aim and felt the need for revenge fill her senses. One arrow and she would end the Queen's life and thus her pursuit of her. Then she could finally leave the Kingdom and be free. She spared a quick glance at the man that she had knocked out and tied to a tree. She shook any thoughts of him away though. She didn't care what he said or about the absurd claims he had that he was her true love. It was a lie. It had to be, because she stopped believing in love long ago. True love was a myth. Marriage was just a business transaction. She wanted none of it. She breathed and fired the arrow, only to have her heart practically jump into her throat, as the handsome idiot she had tied to a tree foolishly jumped in the path of the arrow. It struck him in the shoulder and she was infuriated.

"Why? Why would you do that?" she cried, as she knelt beside him. He was in obvious pain, but managed to pull himself up against the tree.

"I refuse to let you darken your heart by killing in revenge...especially over that evil witch. I'd rather die," he confessed and she was taken aback by that.

"You'd...you'd die for me?" she asked in disbelief.

"Does it look like I'm making this up?" he joked.

"No one has ever been willing to die for me," she stated sadly.

"No one you can remember," he said, as she approached him and he gently caressed his face. Though the dark thoughts swirling in her mind were fighting her, the part of her mind begging her to kiss him was louder. So she pressed her lips to his and the rush of memories was instant. Her eyes flew open in surprise and she gasped, as she looked at him in wonder, before her surprise melted into a bright smile.

"Charming…" she gushed.

"Yes…" he uttered, as she kissed him again.

"I remember and I still don't see how that's different from this," she complained, but he knew she did and sighed.

"You didn't have love in your heart when you almost killed Cora then and only sought revenge. But this is different. If I do this now, I do it knowing that it is the only way to protect my family. I won't do it for revenge...I'll do it, because she has left us no choice and the survival of our family depends upon it," he promised. She smiled gently.

"Look at you...getting all old and wise on me. Except I'm the only one that got old," she mentioned.

"Snow...you are not old. Far from it," he said, as he lifted her chin with his hand.

"You are so beautiful...you still take my breath away, so much so that it makes me eternally grateful that you still want me. I know it had to be so hard out there...being alone and I know there had to be men that probably asked you out," he said, as he looked down at that.

"It was hard...but you're the love of my life. I'd never feel comfortable with anyone else, nor could I ever love someone the way I love you," she assured him. He nodded.

"I know...but then there were propositions?" he asked. She sighed.

"Yes...especially when I was a waitress. But most of them were only interested in one thing and the moment they found out about the kids, that was pretty much it. Trust me, I made sure to get the message across that I had two kids to save myself the awkwardness of turning them down. Because I could never want anyone else," she replied.

"I know...it's the same for me," he promised, as he pecked her on the lips.

"So...do you think they have the DNA results by now?" she asked curiously. He smirked.

"Probably..but we're not going to worry about that right now," he replied. She raised an eyebrow.

"We're not?" she asked coyly.

"No...we'll have to deal with all of it, but not until morning," he replied and she yelped in surprise, as he swept her into his arms.

"I take it you have something in mind to pass the time and it has nothing to do with sleeping," she mused playfully. He smirked.

"Just me making love to the most beautiful woman in all the realms," he replied, as he gently sat her on the bed. She blushed and looked down a little shyly. She had missed the way he made her feel that she was exactly as he saw her. She had not felt that way in a very long time. Her experiences in the Land Without Magic had weathered her and buried Snow White beneath the guise of Mary Margaret Swan, whom she had to become to survive.

Men like her husband did not exist out there. Even the nice ones fell short and it made the bad ones even worse. But he peeled away those weathered layers just by being him and Snow White emerged without fear. She was finally herself again without feeling the burden of what she had lost, for she had finally gotten it all back. He was worth everything she had suffered through and more.

"All those lonely nights...all the hardships...it was worth it for just one more night with you," she confessed. He smiled.

"I feel the same...everything I went through...it was worth it to know that you and Emma escaped Cora. But I promise you, as long as there is breath in my body that we will have more than just one night. We will have a lifetime...we will have eternity," he confessed in return. A tear slipped down her cheek.

"Charming…" she uttered, as their lips crashed together and passion swallowed them in its perfect storm.

~*~

Emma watched fondly, as her son gave big belly laughs, as Neal pushed him on one of the baby swings.

"You love this...you little daredevil," he joked, as their eyes met and she smiled.

"So...how about we go grab something at Granny's after this? You know, my last meal as a free man," he said. She rolled her eyes.

"You are not going anywhere. Your Dad isn't going to let it happen and apparently mine isn't either after what he did," Emma replied. Neal smiled.

"Yeah...watching them try to figure out how he's your father when that test comes back positive should be fun. He's way more intimidating than I expected," he said. She smirked.

"Aw, does my daddy scare you?" he teased. He scoffed.

"No," he said too quickly and she raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, so I'm the guy that got his little girl pregnant and then left her. He would have every right to want my guts on a stick," he admitted. She nodded.

"He knows there was more to it than that now though...so do I," she admitted in return.

"I was too hard on my dad for that, because I did the same thing," he said.

"I need to forgive him," he realized. She nodded.

"You do. But in your defense, you didn't know about the baby," she said.

"But I love you...and leaving you, because I was too cowardly to deal with my own issues with my dad was wrong. I wouldn't blame you if you never forgave me," he replied. She shrugged.

"Sometimes I want to stay mad at you...but my mom just didn't raise me that way," she said.

"I grew up hearing about hope and this amazing true love that my parents have. And then...I finally got to see it and my mom was right. True love really is magic. You made mistakes, but I forgive you," she told him. He swallowed thickly at that.

"Wow...yeah I don't deserve it, but thank you," he replied. She smiled.

"You do and so does your dad, because he's not the enemy here. Cora is," Emma said.

"Yeah...she is way worse than I thought possible," he said. She snorted.

"Tell me about. I mean, mom and August always told me how bad she was, but seeing it, especially after finding out what she did to my dad...yeah there is no forgiving her," Emma replied.

"Yeah...honestly, I don't know how your parents are still standing after everything she's put them through," he admitted.

"True love is magic," she reminded and he smiled.

"It's also really embarrassing public displays of affection and Granny's sounds great, because I have a feeling that it's not safe to go back to the loft for a while," she joked and he chuckled.

"Cherish it...cause my parents, yeah...that was not true love," he replied.

"You never told me about your Mom," she said.

"You know about my dad's past in the book though, so you know her," he replied.

"Milah...but I'd like to hear it from you," she said. He sighed.

"Well...I think at one time, they may have loved each other, but then came the ogre wars," he began.

"Dad had no choice and went off to war. It was considered an instant honor if your husband died in the war," he continued.

"Stupid," she commented.

"Really stupid...and he got scared. I get it...because you either died or were so horribly crippled that you wished you were dead after going to war," he explained.

"So...he crippled himself just enough," she said. He nodded.

"I never blamed him for that though...but my mom did. She was so hateful to him after that and eventually, she ran off with Hook, before he was actually Hook," he replied. She nodded.

"Then...after he was the Dark One, he caught up to them and got his revenge," he added. She squeezed his hand.

"He was hurt and he lashed out. It wasn't right, but sounds like your Mom and Hook weren't angels," Emma said.

"They weren't. Hook sold me out to Pan and that's how I got stuck there for two hundred years," he replied.

"So that's how you know Tinkerbell?" she asked. He nodded.

"Yeah...she hated Pan too," he replied.

"Apparently not enough not to work for him," she muttered.

"That's what I don't get. I mean...I get if she is working for him to get off that hell hole island, but I can figure out why he has an interest in Storybrooke. There's no magic here, so he'd never want to come to a place without it," he replied.

"Well...my brother is the author and if he wants a story, he'll get it," she assured, as she saw Rumple arrive with a young woman that she recognized as Lacey.

"Where did you go?" Neal asked.

"To the shop to see what I might have to work with. As you know, since there are certain conditions in Storybrooke as of now, I'm limited as to what I have to work with," he said and they knew that was code for there was no magic.

"Yeah, well that's a blessing in disguise, because if you had what you need, then Cora would have it too," Neal reminded him.

'Yes...which is why taking her out might be messy," Rumple said. He rolled his eyes.

"I was thinking of locking her up...not murdering her," he said.

"A cell isn't going to stop her," Rumple argued.

"He might be right," Emma said and he looked at her in surprise.

"Emma…" he said in disbelief.

"I'm sorry...but she's put my parents through hell. And now she's trying to put us in jail and take us away from our son!" she reminded him. He sighed.

"Yeah...I know," Neal agreed.

"So what do we do? Because I know you talk a big game, Em...but I know you aren't just going to walk up and cap her," he said. Emma huffed.

"Sure feel like it sometimes, but since the curse is't broken, I'd rather not have Graham arrest any of us for murder," she replied.

"Curse?" Lacey asked.

"It's complicated," Rumple answered, only confusing her more.

"Let's just table the murder talk for the moment and get some onion rings," Emma said, as she put her son in his stroller.

"Hungry buddy?" she asked.

"Pancakes!" he called and Neal chuckled.

"Dinner for breakfast...yeah he's yours," he teased.

"Shut up," she replied, as she nudged him.

"Just so you know...this is the furthest thing from dark that there is," Lacey commented to him. Rumple smirked, as they followed.

"It is...but stick around. It might grow on you and I assure you, dark things will come to Cora Mills when I'm done with her," he promised.

~*~

Tinkerbell found her way to the park and wanted to appreciate the beauty of this world, but it was hard when her mind, heart, and soul were so burdened by the deals she had made to escape that nightmare of an island.

"You know, if you're trying to sneak up on me...you're really bad at it," she snapped, as she looked at the man that was following her.

"Oh, I'm not trying to sneak up on you. If I was...you'd never see me coming," August replied.

"Really?" she asked skeptically.

"My Mom is a former bandit...she taught me some skills," he replied. She scoffed.

"But she's not really you mom," Tink commented.

"Yes she is. She raised me from age seven and I'm everything I am, because of her. And she's the best woman you'll ever meet," he said, fiercely defending her.

"Okay...sorry, I didn't realize that you really saw her as your mother," she replied.

"Well...I do. I was dumped in this strange, new land and she's the only reason I became the person I am. She raised me, loved me, and gave me a home, even when I knew she was in pain," he said.

"I'm not here to hurt Snow White," Tink assured.

"If you take Emma and Neal away...you're going to hurt her. Neal is the father of her grandson and Emma's best moves may be deflection and denial, but she still loves Neal too," August argued.

"He should have thought about before he stole all those goods and Emma may not have stolen anything, but we both know that she knew what he was doing," Tink reasoned.

"Cut the crap...you're not here, because of some stolen goods. What the hell does Pan want with Storybrooke?" he demanded to know. Their eyes locked and they stared each other down for several long moments, before she looked away.

"Pan has no interest in Storybrooke," Tink said.

"Then why are you here?" he questioned.

"Does he want Emma and Neal apart for some reason? Is that why you're here posing as a cop?" he questioned again.

"I can't tell you!" she shouted.

"Oh come on! You know what a little demon he is! If he's after my family...then I need to know!" he shouted back.

"This has nothing to do with him!" she yelled.

"Why the hell should I believe you?" he exclaimed.

"Because you're the author! You know that all the realms are frozen under the curse...including Pan! And I'm here to make sure it stays that way!" she revealed. His brow furrowed in confusion.

"What? You want to keep the curse from breaking?" he asked.

"If the curse breaks, then all the realms wake up and time moves again," she replied.

"And then you have to go back to work for Pan," he realized. She nodded. But he shook his head.

"That still doesn't make any sense. If he sent you here to this land before the curse...then there had to be a reason for it. What did he want?" August asked.

"Forget it...because I'm going to make sure your sister can't break the curse, so you better run home to mommy and prepare her for what's to come," Tink replied, as she stalked away.

"No way in hell! You're not taking my sister from us!" he hissed.

"I have to!" she snapped, as she turned to him.

"If the curse is broken and time moves again...then Pan will destroy your family," she said.

"That doesn't make any sense?! We've never met him. Why would he have any interest in us?" August questioned.

"It doesn't matter...because this curse isn't breaking," she said, as she ran away from him. August sighed and thought about chasing her, but then decided to go to Gold instead. There was a chance that he might have some insight into what his dear old father could want from them.

~*~

Cora stared at the black diamond, as she and Kathryn walked along the dark streets of Storybrooke. She knew exactly what tool they needed to activate it, but that wasn't the dilemma that was causing her to hesitate. If she activated the trigger without magic, she didn't know exactly to what degree the destruction would be. She knew it would work on some scale. It was designed for her to use at any time, magic or not, to hit the reset button and escape if she wanted. But with magic, she would have been able to ensure that none of her enemies could escape the total destruction. Without, there was always a chance for survival. But she was so dissatisfied with everything that she was ready to blow the entire town and escape unscathed into the Land Without Magic. She had amassed a nice fortune and she could live luxuriously out there and eventually, somewhere, she knew she could climb her way back to power. But there were two people she wanted to make sure did not survive and the only way to make sure was to force them to be at the detonation point. She smirked, as Sidney Glass met them on the street.

"Emma and August parted ways from their mother and David. They went back to her loft alone...but I don't know how long that will last," he reported.

"Excellent work, Mr. Glass. Do you have the item I asked you to bring?" she questioned. He nodded and handed her a rolled up paper bag.

"Thank you...that will be all," she replied, as they continued on.

"What is that?" Kathryn asked and then gasped, as Cora took out a gun, before handing it to her.

"What...you want me to take it?" she squeaked.

"Do you want revenge on David and that little bitch that stole him?" Cora questioned. Kathryn swallowed thickly and the older woman rolled her eyes.

"The gun is just to get them to do what we want. Trust me...their demise will be much more satisfying than a bullet. Take it," she ordered. Kathryn obeyed and put it in her coat pocket, as they continued on with Mary Margaret Swan's loft as their intended destination...

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Emma Swan #August W. Booth #Charming family #AU #CORA cast the curse #evil Cora #Regina Mills #OQ #Swanfire #Rumbelle #Wooden Fairy #romance #adventure #family #a darker curse

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tsuyoi-hikari · 5 years

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Memories of the Alhambra Review & Ending Explanation

I really love this drama as a whole. I love how groundbreaking and interesting it is that each episode seemed like its only 15 to 30 minutes long. I love how unpredictable it is like literally, you cant guess whats coming and I love how it is structured to make you speculate and ask questions. The editing was made to show the future first and later flashback scenes will follow aka Christopher Nolan’s ‘Momento’ kind of storytelling. You know that a story is great when it can evoke you all kind of emotions and this drama is exactly that. It made you care for the characters, only to play you around and makes you wanting for more. And I salute the writer for her ability to engage the viewers like she did in this drama.

Aside from that, I really love the writer’s little clues here and there. She did a looooot of foreshadowing in this drama. It sure raise a lot of questions but you know whats coming with that. I mean, we after all can predict Jeong Hun’s death the moment Jin Woo asked Jeong Hun to join him at Granada (as in the train flashback scene, Jin Woo is alone and not with Jeong Hun). We also know right away that Marco is the one who hunt Se Joo the moment he made his appearance in the drama (as a blue checkered guy is the one who shot Se Joo). We also know as early as in Episode 2 that Jin Woo’s leg will be injured but his limp is cured the moment he’s playing the game. The dynamic of Jin Woo and Hee Joo’s relationship is also foreshadow since in the earlier episode on how she’s sitting in front of Jin Woo in the rain is making him feel protected and safe. Hee Joo didnt kill the enemies like Jeong Hun would (since after all she cant see Hyeong Seok's NPC), but her presence and existence is like a buffer between Jin Woo and the game and that particular scene perfectly show what would her role be in Jin Woo’s life in the future.

Jin Woo has become one of my very fave Kdramas’ lead characters ever. And I have to give credit to Hyun Bin for that. He played Jin Woo in such a depth that you literally feel his pain just by looking in his eyes. I have watched Hyun Bin for the past 15 years and I have to say that this is simply his best role to date (although Hyun Bin's Robin from 'Hyde, Jekyll, Me' is my soulmate :P). Its been a really long time that I’m this emotionally invested in a character and Hyun Bin portrayal of Jin Woo made me feel Jin Woo’s soul. Aside from his outburst in Episode 1, Jin Woo is actually a really nice, humble and level-headed guy. Its evidenced with the way he talk to other people despite their status – he actually use a polite language (instead of Banmal) to everyone even to his low-level workers. And not to mention that despite his trouble with the game, he still treat people with utmost respect and care despite he himself is facing a real life and death situations.

Now regarding the romance part of the drama, I thought it was done very tastefully and slowly -- in a mature kind of way. You could see clearly why Hee Joo falls for Jin Woo. The mixture of Jin Woo kindness (still giving her the full amount of the contract), to him touching her soft spot (playing guitar), to him still taking care of his ex-wife (despite he didnt need to), to him facing real & death situation when he falls at her hostel, to her taking care of him and Jin Woo asking her to stay... And later when she realised the length Jin Woo went through to find Se Joo. All this small details contribute to why she loves him. And as for Jin Woo, its obvious that he falls for Hee Joo's kindness and strength. He was impressed with her ability to feed her family and was also taken back by her kindness (the length she is willing to go to help him either in interpreting to taking care of him when he's sick), to her quirkiness on how she explodes when she's mad. Plus, the most important of all is how her presence made him feels safe -- even when Hyeong Seok NPC is in front of him (during the rain scene). Hee Joo is like a buffer between the game and Jin Woo. He just unintentionally ask her to stay by his side since he is just too scared to be alone. He didnt understand it either but later, he realised that he likes her for her sincerity -- the one he never get from Su Jin or Yu Ra. And he actually smile and laugh when she is around him which he never did the whole 1 year after their last meeting at Granada when the game make him question his sanity. That is why he had the urge to see her before he completed the final mission since she is someone important in his life. IMO, the romance part was dealt with many minor details and mature way thats why I ended up really liking how their relationship grows despite the horrible situation they're in -- its not too much nor too little. When you are deal with real life and death situation, your feelings intensifies which explain their relationship perfectly.

All in all, I give the drama 9.5/10. It is not perfect but it was interesting as hell and full of unpredictable plots. I would love it more if the writer actually explain how the characters die because loss of blood when they were killed in the game but I guess she just lump sum it up as part of the 'fantasy and mysterious’ part of the game when Emma made the reality and game world collide when Marco stabbed Se Joo with real knife. But aside from these minor details, this drama has become one of the most nerve-wrecking Kdramas in my book. Its rare for me to have palpitation when I watch Kdramas but this drama is one of a rare case and it will always be special in my heart because of that. :D

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Explanation on the Ending:

ITS OBVIOUSLY A CLEAR CUT HAPPY ENDING. WHY?

I know that many people are really dissatisfied with this drama’s ending. I personally thought the writer trying to be creative with her ending but kind of backfired as many people got confuse with the game concepts and thought that the bug cycle was repeating themselves over and over again now that Jin Woo is still stuck in the game.

On the surface, the drama ended with a bittersweet note with a glimmer of hope at the end. However, after a second viewing, I have to admit that it is after all a clear cut happy ending. I realised many small details that the writer gave to us – that it was clear that despite the ending is ambiguous, the writer aimed for a happy end to both of our main leads. First of all, lets clear the confusion regarding the concept of the game world.

1. At first, I thought that Emma, while one of her features is to delete bugs, is a bug itself as she’s the reason why the game world and the reality world collide when Marco stabbed Se Joo with real knife. I mean, if she’s not there, the whole mess of the game become real wouldn’t happen as Se Joo will just bleed after the stab and probably recover after he go to the hospital. Jin Woo wouldn’t be in that mess and the only one suffers is only Se Joo with the stab wounds on his stomach.

2. Marco is Se Joo’s bug thus he do not need to be deleted for Jin Woo to reset the game. Plus, Jin Woo can't see Marco anyway unless he made an alliance with Se Joo. Bear in mind that Se Joo is the one who create this game and he set the rules. Among the rules are those who gave Fatima the Key to Heaven will win the game and become the new Master. And he also put one of Emma’ s features is to delete bugs and once bugs are deleted, the game will reset. And that is exactly what Jin Woo did; level up, get the key, kill the bugs and hand over the key to Emma and Emma reset the game. Now, why Jin Woo is a bug and need to be deleted? It is because he played the game while the game is in error state. Had other testers of the game made a duel and killed their opponents like Jin Woo, they will be in the same position as Jin Woo as well.

3. Jin Woo made sure he killed all of the bugs and also sacrificing himself in the process to end the game’s sinister elements. Since he already do this and reset the game to zero, there are no more evil cycle of one has to sacrifice themselves to save the others. Once Emma reset everything, it is a new game without bugs/errors/glitches. J One lost all the data and build the game back from scratch that is why it took them another 1 year to release the new game as they have to rebuild everything. The good thing about the whole thing is that is game is finally safe to be played unlike Se Joo’s original game which mix game world and the real world. The writer made it clear that the evil part of the game was buried once and for all when Jin Woo sacrificing himself at the end.

4. It was obvious that Yang Ju finally delete Emma from the new game when we hear that he regretted of keeping Emma where Emma in the end reset the whole game and delete all their hard work for the past 1 year. So no Emma, no more error in the game. There is no more Emma so the features of her to delete bugs and reset back the game is no longer there as well.

5. Regarding whether Hee Joo can see Jin Woo or not, she can see him as she is wearing lenses. All game users can see Jin Woo if he made an appearance that is why the guy at the restaurant insisted that Jin Woo is not NPC but an advanced user. But why there's no name for Jin Woo in the new game? It is because Emma has deleted everything including Jin Woo's game name 'Zinu' that is why he is without name. ‘Instance Dungeon’ is to make one become invisible from the enemies and hide themselves. Se Joo did hide himself for 1 year as Marco is there to hunt him so he keep using the instance dungeon feature to remain safe. Jin Woo in the other hand just use the feature to save himself from getting deleted by Emma. So if he didn't use the instant dungeon feature, other game users can see him. The problem is getting him out of the game and I believe that is Se Joo's task to do that.

And now the for ending, the writer purposely tell us about the 'Instance Dungeon’ and how a user can use it to hide themselves. And later at the end, it is shown that Jin Woo after all did use that feature to save himself. But why is he helping in killing low-level NPCs for other game users just days after the game was released? It is not actually a 'Master’ task to do that and he knew the game is now free from bugs and no one is getting killed for real. But he did it anyway. Why? He did that as a call of help to alert everyone that he is after all still alive but somehow still stuck in the game. He clearly let them know that he is still alive by helping the other game users. Now that Hee Joo knew that he is alive and hidden, it is only a matter of time for him to be saved just like how he saved Se Joo the year earlier. So, technically, it is only a matter of time before he can get his happy ending.

I am pretty much disappointed with the ending but upon second viewing, it wasn’t really that bad like I initially felt. The writer for surely aimed for a happy end, it just that, its not in-your-face type of ending like other dramas.

#Memories of the Alhambra #Memories of Alhambra #Hyun Bin #Park Shin Hye #Chanyeol #Kdramas #Reviews #Rants #The best drama of 2018 #Hyun Bin was exceptional in this role #I wanted more!

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distant-rose · 6 years

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Seal of Fate Ch. 6 (7/8)

Notes: Okay, okay, okay, there’s a lot of stuff in this chapter, including graphic violence, some mutilation, nonconsensual drugging and attempted murder. All the fun stuff. I ask you to be patient with the craziness that happens particularly with the boat scene. I spent a lot of time going over emergency radios and whatnot and unfortunately, there just wasn’t a lot of information though I did find out a lot of modern boats have locators on them, which allow officials to track your boat in the case of emergency. I would also like to make a quick apology for not updating last week. A lot was going on and there was just no way I was going to do it without losing my mind. This fic has been quite the roller coaster and I can’t believe it’s almost over. I hope you enjoy it. Anyway, a special thanks to @shireness-says and @katie-dub for being awesome. A thank you as well to the mods of @cssns and to @drowned-dreamer for creating art for me. And most of all, thank you to @aerica13 for being the most amazing beta ever. Summary: Emma Swan is looking for only one thing - answers. Abandoned outside a police station in Menemsha, Martha’s Vineyard, Emma has dedicated her life to finding out where she comes from and why she was given away. She finds an unlikely partner in Killian, a selkie she inadvertently summons in a fit of frustration over her cold case. Word Count: 5,400+ AO3: [LINK] Chapters: Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Epilogue Rating: T+

Emma awoke, head throbbing, a taste of cotton in her mouth and her cheek pressed against a rough cold surface. The pain wasn’t sharp but dull and constant, poking at the edge of her awareness. She felt a little fuzzy and not in the normal way she felt when she usually awoke. It was like her brain was made of cotton; thoughts flighty and less concrete.

Like she had been drugged on top of being knocked out.

The next thing that hit her was the smell of sharp chemical cleaner and decay. Both smells were something she had become familiar with in her runaway days, when she had stayed in an assortment of places from seedy unclean motel rooms to abandoned buildings with dead animals in them. It brought back memories of a hollow stomach, frozen toes and never-ending loneliness. She opened her eyes. Almost instantly she regretted the decision. She was on the set of American Horror Story.

That was the first thing that popped into her head as she surveyed her surroundings. She was laying on the concrete floor of an unfinished basement with no windows, wall beams and insulation exposed. Different types of knives and tools were hanging from the various nails on the beams. Directly across from her face was a rack of sealskin that looks freshly cut. Nausea churned inside of her at the sight but that wasn’t the worst of it. In the corner of the room, there was a large tub, surrounded with various types of chemicals and dark stains on the floor. The tub itself was filled with a churning pinkish mixture that was bubbling and fumes were rising from it. There was something large floating in it but Emma didn’t dare to investigate further. She didn’t want to know. What she wanted was to get the hell out of there. To her surprise, she was not bound or chained to anything but rather than critique the kidnapping skills of her abductor, she stood and stretched. She was alone aside from whatever was in the tub, no sign whatsoever of the person who had taken her from Stop & Shop. Immediately she began looking for a window or a door. From the looks of it, the only way in and out was the stairway. Tentatively, she ascended and pressed on the door. Again, to her surprise, she found it was unlocked. She opened it slowly, trying not to make a sound and alert whoever was around. Despite her efforts, it creaked loudly and she stopped pushing it almost immediately. She strained to hear if there was any activity on the other side, barely able to make out anything aside from the thundering of her heart. There was nothing. No sound or movement came from the other side. She let out a shuddering breath as she pushed the door a little farther, just enough to slip through. Moving as quietly as she could, she inched herself through and into an immaculate looking kitchen. The place was spotless and it was hard to believe that she was still in the same house that contained the horror downstairs. Her phone was on the counter.

Immediately, she grabbed it, noting the time. She had been out for at least four hours. Killian had blown up her phone. She didn’t bother looking at the messages. She hit the call button. It rang twice.

“Swan!”

“Killian,” she spoke softly, moving through the house in hopes of finding a quick exit. She had no idea where her abductor was and she didn’t necessarily want to come face-to-face with them.

“Where are you? I’ve been calling and calling!”

“I was taken somewhere,” she whispered as she entered an expensive-looking living room. “Someone hit me and then I work up on the set of the Friday the Thirteenth.”

“Now is not the time for your nonsensical references! Where are you?”

That’s when she saw it. On the cherry wood mantle. It was the only thing sitting there. No photos, no baubles or no knick-knacks. Only a large mason jar full of teeth. Her stomach dropped.

“Gold,” she whispered.

“Get the hell out of there! Swan, you need to get out of there now!”

She opened her mouth to speak but before she could get the words out, she was grabbed from behind and a cloth was placed over her mouth, muffling her scream of surprise. The noxious smell of chemicals hit her nose and almost immediately she was hit with a sense of drowsiness. Her phone fell out of her grasp as her body went limp and the last thing she remembered was high-pitched laughter ringing in her ears.

The floor wasn’t so smooth the next time she awoke, feeling just as hazy as she had the last time, though this time her hands were bound with duct tape. The floor was now cold, wet and rocking. Nausea returned and this time, she couldn’t hold it back. She got up in a sitting position so she could vomit without getting it in her hair. “Rohypnol doesn’t work well on you, dearie, does it?” Emma lifted her head, finally taking in her new surroundings. She was on what she could only describe as a generously large boat. Gold wasn’t looking at her but rather looking out at the ocean from the captain’s seat. He seemed normal, calm, as if he was going for a night cruise rather than abducting someone. His nonchalant attitude made her blood boil. “You roofied me? You son of a bitch!” He ignored her outburst, still scanning the horizon. “You should have been out for hours yet. How curious.”

“You’re psychotic!” She hissed. He turned to face her. Emma expected anger or at least annoyance. There was nothing. It was as if she hadn’t said anything at all. He merely stared at her with the same curiosity that person had when observing an insect, detached and only vaguely interested. “You have fire,” he said conversationally. “I wonder how long it will last.” He moved away from the captain’s seat, stalking in her direction. Emma immediately scooted backwards, trying to keep as much distance from him as possible. He snorted in laughter, passing her to drop an anchor over the rail. “Going somewhere?” “Anywhere away from you.” “Afraid your options are quite limited, dearie. We’re a mile from shore. Nothing but you, me and the open ocean. Now, let’s chat.” “I make a point not to talk to people who kidnap me,” Emma replied through clenched teeth. Gold looked down at her for a long moment. This time Emma stared back into his eyes, which she know noticed were as cold and emotionless as those of a reptile. She remembered her first impression of him in Granny’s diner and how he reminded her of a crocodile. The same look he had given Killian was now aimed in her direction. It caused a shiver to go down her spine. It was then Emma remembered exactly who she was dealing with. She was dealing with the man who murdered her parents, a man who had slaughtered and killed selkies and, more importantly, a man who believed he was above the law. She was stuck on a boat in the middle of the ocean with a serial killer.

He opened a cooler that had been sitting alongside the benches that lined the craft. At first all she saw was blood and ice. He plunged his hand into it, barely even flinching at the cold temperature and pulled out a large fish head.

“There are two ways this conversation can go,” Gold said, still in that nonchalant tone of his. “This could be a nice conversation where it’s just you and me or I could bring some...friends along and you can go for a swim. The choice is yours.”

He gave her a significant look as he tossed the fish head over the side of the boat.

“I think you plan to kill me whether or not we chat,” Emma replied.

Gold chuckled, pulling out another bloody severed fish head and throwing it over. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”

“I’m not a moron. You allowed me to see your face and I’m not bound to the island so you can’t keep my silence. You don’t plan on me living.”

“It’s strange how history repeats itself,” he said, still laughing. “I’ve had this conversation before, you see. About thirty years ago, now that I think about it. Young man who thought he was brave. Brave only gets you so far…”

“David Nolan?”

“My, someone has been doing their research. David, David, David. Everyone used to say how smart he was but he wasn’t so smart in the end,” he mused, a wicked smile contorting across his thin lips. Emma felt sick. “You see, like you, he got himself involved with a selkie and well, hunters don’t appreciate those who stand in the way of their prey. I wonder how smart you’re going to be.”

“I don’t think smart has anything to do with it if I’m going to die either way.”

“Oh but it does. You see, if you’re smart, I kill you nice and clean before I throw you overboard. No fuss. No pain. The sharks won’t be as kind.”

Emma swallowed. She could feel her knees rattling against the deck. She couldn’t tell what was causing her to shake more, the chill in the air or the fact that there was no way she was getting off this boat alive.

“I’ll say one thing, you’re stronger than most. You haven’t started begging or crying yet. No bargaining, no pleading for your life.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

He moved, crouching in front of her. She flinched when he touched her face, gripping her jaw and forcing her to look at him.

“Who did you call when you were in my house? It wasn’t the police. They would have said.”

“The FBI.”

“Doubtful,” he tutted as he smacked her cheek. “I would have known. I have contacts there as well. I’m more valuable to them than you could ever be. No. You were talking to someone you want to protect...the diner lady? Her harlot granddaughter? Or was it your selkie?”

Emma said nothing, merely glared at him. She had never hated another human being more than she did in this moment. Even during her worst nights in prison, she didn’t hate Neal as much as she hated Gold.

“It was, wasn’t it?” The smile grew more cruel. “You thought he would rescue you, didn’t you?”

Again she remained silent, visualizing what how his face would look after she had bashed it in with her fists. He treated this as a confirmation as well, crowing with sick delight and laughing more.

“Don’t you know? There’s no one more selfish than a selkie. They never think about anyone but themselves. They don’t care about the hearts they’ve stolen or the families they’ve destroyed. All they care about is pleasure and freedom. He won’t come for you.”

“What makes you so sure he’s a selkie?”

“Oh dearie, dearie, dearie. I know them better than they know themselves. I’ve been hunting them since before you even born. I know a selkie when I see one. Dark, beautiful, selfish and vicious. They always reveal themselves in the end. I saw him for the beast he was the moment I set eyes on him.”

The cynical and jaded part of Emma wanted nothing more than to laugh in his face. Here he was bragging about how well he knew selkies while there was one right in front of his very nose and he didn’t seem to realize it.

“If he’s the one you want, then what do you want with me?”

“Information.”

“I thought you knew everything there was to know about selkies.”

“I do, which is why if anyone knows the key to finding him it’s you. They’re chatty creatures when they’re trying to impress their latest victim.”

“You mean victims like your wife?” She didn’t know why she was baiting him but she couldn’t help but ask the question.

His eyes bulged in surprise for a brief moment, clearly caught off guard. It wasn’t long before they narrowed anything, the cold emotionless look replaced with something akin to fury. It was the first time Emma felt like she was seeing a genuine emotion from him.

“And what do you know about my wife?”

“She left you for a selkie man and you couldn’t handle it.”

“Is that what you think?”

“That’s what I know.”

“Which is absolutely nothing!” he snarled. “My wife was no victim. She was selfish and had little regard for anyone, including our son. I gave her everything. A home. Money. Clothes. A beautiful boy to take care of. All I wanted was her to be my wife and what did she do to show her gratitude? Returned to the ocean at her first chance.”

She felt her jaw drop as she realized exactly what he was saying.

“Your wife was a selkie,” she whispered in horror.

“And a vicious one at that. Heartless. Milah took from me what I desperately desired so I took away what she desired the most,” he replied, fiddling with charms of the crude necklace around his neck. “And now, she’ll never leave me.”

Emma stared in horror as she realized that charms he was playing with weren’t actually charms, but rather very human-looking teeth, canines if her elementary health classes had taught her correctly. Given the context of their rather gruesome conversation, Emma could only assume that they had belonged to his wife, which is why they were around his neck rather than in the mason jar on his mantle back in the house. Bile rose in her throat.

An even sicker realization hit her.

Milah. It took her a few moments to place the name but when she did, it felt like someone had dumped an ice bucket over her head. Gold’s wife had been Killian’s Milah, the selkie woman who had become his rock in a new and unforgiving environment. The man who had killed her parents had also killed the woman Killian had loved. She didn’t know why she was surprised. This man seemed to thrive on destroying the lives of those around him.

“You killed her because she wanted to go home.”

“She killed herself when she decided to abandon her family.”

“You couldn’t stand her saying ‘no’ to you. You’re like a child who destroys his toys when they don’t work the way he wants!” She shouted back at him.

Gold’s face flashed with fury. He lunged forward, grabbing a handful of her hair and slamming her facedown against the deck. The blow was sudden and disorientating, pain shooting through her skull. She could already feel the massive bruise beginning to form on her cheek.

“That will teach you to be mouthy. You will be silent unless I tell you otherwise,” he hissed into her ear.

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said no,” she repeated bitingly, her head still swimming. “I will not be silent. I will not cooperate with you. You will get nothing you want from me. I refuse. You might as well throw me overboard now.”

“That is a request I will happily grant,” Gold snarled, tightening his hold on her hair and proceeding to drag her across the boat.

Emma screamed, thrashing her body and waving her bound arms in hopes of hitting or loosening his hold. She wasn’t going to go down without a fight. She landed a few good hits, causing Gold to swear violently at her but she paid no attention to his words. In the course of her struggle, she managed to kick over the chum cooler, sending ice, blood and fish parts sliding across the deck.

As Gold attempted to drag her towards the ledge, something happened. A black mass burst from the water and jumped onto the boat, sending both Emma and Gold backwards. Emma let out a yelp of pain as she smacked her elbow hard against the deck. The boat rocked violently, seesawing back and forth in a fashion that made her wonder if the boat was going to flip over. Gold screamed as he fell, red flashing across her vision.

Initially, Emma thought it was some sort of shark that jumped aboard. It has been incredibly large and powerful enough to nearly capsize the boat. But as she got her bearings, she realised that she was seriously mistaken.

It was a seal.

A large black furred seal, larger than any animal that Emma had ever encountered before in her life. It was easily six to seven feet in length and looked like it weighed a few hundred pounds, more than capable of crushing both her and Gold. It looked more dangerous than any wild animal had the right to be, baring sharp teeth and barking noisily. She flattened herself against the deck, hoping that it wouldn’t take notice of her.

Gold had no such fears. He stood up on shaky legs, yanking Emma up by the arm. When she resisted, he pulled a switchblade from his pocket. She went still as he brought it against her neck.

“Yield.”

At first, Emma thought he was talking to her but Gold wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were trained on the still snarling animal. It was then that Emma really studied the creature. When she first caught sight of it, all she had noted was that it was large and terrifying but now it was familiar. Its sleek pelt had taken on a distant pattern that she had seen before but she didn’t make the connection until she saw the unnatural intelligence in its eyes.

Killian.

“Yield, beast.” Gold held the knife higher on her neck. “Take off the pelt and we will talk like men. Do anything rash and dear Emma gets a bloody necktie.”

The low growl emitted from Killian’s throat, lips raising to show off more sharp teeth. Gold didn’t so much as flinch - if anything, he pressed the knife closer to Emma’s skin. A few moments passed where nothing happened and Emma felt each second pass slowly as adrenaline pumped through her veins, heart beating a tattoo against her ribcage.

The seal shifted, rolling its shoulders followed by.a clicking noise. Emma watched, oddly fascinated, as bones began to shift beneath the skin. It was almost grotesque to watch it but she couldn’t look away as a flipper became more like an arm and the fat seemed to melt away from its torso, the pelt falling loose. She sucked in a breath as the face of the seal was pulled away to reveal a more familiar human one. The removal of the pelt was followed by an awkward squelching noise and it was then that she realised that his human skin was covered a thin layer of disgusting gunk. Faintly she mused that this was why selkies needed to dazzle humans into accepting them, watching the transformation from seal to human was pretty gross.

“You know, I’m hunted your kind for decades and I can count on a single hand how many times you lot have come back for humans. Not the smartest seal, are you?”

“You shouldn’t have brought her into this,” Killian said in a quiet tone. Despite his calmness, Emma could hear the anger in his voice.

“You’re the one who brought her into this, dearie.”

“Let her go.”

“And why would I do that?” Gold taunted.

Killian didn’t answer his question. His lips formed a tight thin line as his eyes cut away from Gold and met Emma’s. His demeanour changed, from furious to desperate. He seemed to be silently pleading with her but over what, she didn’t know.

“Tell you what, you hand over your pelt and the girl goes free.”

“No!” The word escaped her throat before she could stop it.

“Quiet,” Gold hissed, fingers digging into the skin of her arm. “That’s my deal for you. The pelt for the girl.”

“I’m not worth it,” Emma whispered, shaking her head, heedless of the knife at her throat.

“No…” Killian swallowed. “You’re worth everything.”

He stepped forward, pelt in his hands. Emma wanted to scream at him for being so foolish and so reckless and for choosing this moment, the worst moment in the history of bad moments, to be romantic. He was an idiot. Gold had no intentions of letting either of them go and he was surrendering the most fundamental part of him in a desperate, useless measure that everyone on this boat knew would amount to nothing. This was unacceptable.

She refused to accept this. She wasn’t going to.

An eerie sense of calm overtook her as she came to a decision. There was a sudden disconnect between her mind and her body, as if she was just watching a movie rather than experiencing it firsthand. The only thing she knew was that she wasn’t going to allow Killian to do this, not while she was living and breathing.

Over the course of her career as a private investigator, Emma had watched her fair share of shitty romantic comedies, including Sandra Bullock’s “Miss Congeniality.” It wasn’t the best film in the world and there were parts that Emma found more irritating than endearing but there was one scene that seemed to be burned into her memory and that was the scene where Gracie Hart taught the audience how to SING and not in the entertaining way.

Bracing slightly, Emma brought her elbow up and swung backwards as hard as she could. She made contact with his solar plexus, catching him off guard and causing him to stumble. The knife came down against her collarbone, cutting into her skin but Emma paid it no mind as she slammed her foot against his instep and pivoted back to hit him with her elbow again. Gold fell backwards and she moved to finish the job but Killian shoved her out of the way, getting in on the action by hitting him with a bodyslam. Gold went over the side of the boat with a loud shout, pulling on Killian’s arm in desperate attempt to stay onboard. Killian stumbled, clawing at the railing to keep from falling over as well.

“Fuck!” Killian screamed, trying to pull his arm back. “You’re going to pull my bloody arm off!”

“I’m going to do quite a bit more than that once I get back on board!”

“I’m going to run you over with your own goddamn-“ He didn’t finish his sentence. Emma watched in horror as the boat shook from a sudden collision with a large force. Killian went flying over the edge with a yelp and into the water, bringing Gold with him.

Emma scrambled to her feet, a fresh sense of panic taking over. There were only two things that could have hit the boat like that, a whale or a shark, and neither of them were good.

Red.

All she could see bubbles and blood spreading. No sign of Killian and Gold. She had never been more terrified in her life, not even when Gold had put the knife to her neck.

“Killian!” Her eyes searched the water desperately, looking for a sign.

Suddenly a dark head arose from the churning sea, gasping for breath and splashing frantically. It was Killian and he looked positively terrified.

“Emma!”

Her relief was short lived as she noticed the dark shape in the water and an all-too-familiar triangular shape breaking the surface as it moved towards where Killian was barely keeping afloat. She had seen enough Jaws movies to know what it was.

“Killian! You have to get out of the water!”

She searched frantically, looking for something to help him. She found portable boat ladder leaning casually against the side and immediately placed it over the rail. Killian began to swim towards it but his movements were sluggish and slow.

He wasn’t going to make it in time.

“No, no, no, no,” Emma chanted under her breath as she began ripping at the duct tape around her wrists with her teeth. It took her a few moments to break it but when she did, she didn’t bother to take all of it off. Instead she looked around wildly for something that she could throw or distract the shark with. All she could find was buoys, life jackets and things for boat maintenance. She highly doubted throwing a can of WD40 was going to do much.

The only thing that looked remotely useful was a long thin metal pole with a small hook at the end of it. She had no idea what it was for and she didn’t care. She just needed to figure out how help Killian.

Armed with her weapon, Emma returned to the side of the boat to survey the situation. The shark was nearly on top of Killian who only a few feet away from the ladder. She didn’t think, smacking the pole against the water in hopes of warding the shark off. It swerved to avoid the pole but wasn’t deterred from its course. She continued to violently stab at the water in hopes of keeping it away from the boat, hitting it at times along the top of the head and nose. It reared back when Emma managed to get a nasty shot at its gills. She let out of a shout of victory as Killian clambered onto the deck, unhindered by the shark.

Or so she thought.

As soon as he made it over the side, he collapsed. Breathing heavy and white faced, he cradled his left arm against his chest. Blood and water pooled around him and that’s when Emma noticed his hand.

Or lack of it.

It was gone, leaving an gnarled wrist in its wake. Blood and shredded tendoned curling around the stump. Emma fought back the urge to scream and recoil. Freaking out would solve nothing. Killian needed help and he needed help fast.

It was a vague memory from her middle school health class but Emma tore off her shirt and immediately wrapped it around Killian’s wrist in hopes of creating a makeshift tourniquet. Her hands shook violently as she tightened the cloth around his ravaged wrist.

“What are you doing, love?” He asked weakly.

“Stopping the blood flow,” she answered shortly, taking off her belt so she could keep the shirt in place. Red quickly spread through the fabric and Emma didn’t like how fast he seemed to be losing blood. “I’m going to need you to keep this elevated while I try to figure out how to get you help…Can you do that?”

“Whatever you want, love.”

As much as she didn’t want to, she left his side and began searching through Gold’s stuff again, looking for something, anything really, that could help them get help. She had no clue how to drive a boat, especially one of this caliber and she was almost positive that any attempt to drive it back to Menemsha would be detrimental to Killian.

She nearly sobbed when she found an almost ancient emergency radio and a pack of flare gun. She picked up the radio, unsure if it was on the correct channel or even if she was transmitting correctly and spoke.

“Help! Help! Help! Is anyone out there! I need help!”

There was no response. She shifted the channel, repeating the same desperate plea and waiting thirty seconds for a response before changing it. Only the third shift, someone finally replied.

“Ma’am, is this mayday?” A man’s voice crackled over the radio.

“Mayday, help, what, I need someone and I need them now!” Emma shouted back. “I’m in the middle of fucking ocean, someone dead and my friend is dying! I need help!”

“Ma’am, what is the condition of your craft?”

“It’s fine but my friend isn’t! Send the Water Ambulance, the Coast Guard, the Avengers, someone! He’s been attacked by a shark and is bleeding out and I don’t know how to drive this thing! The guy who did is dead!”

“Ma’am, calm down, this is the US Coast Guard based in Chilmark that you’re speaking to. Do you know where you are?”

“No fucking clue,” she said, letting out a hysterical laugh. Just her luck. She could get the Coast Guard on her first attempt of radioing for help but she had no idea where she was. “All I know is that we came from Memensha.”

“Do you know the name of the craft, ma’am?”

“No,” she replied shortly.

“Listen to me carefully. I need you to look find the name of the craft you’re on. It should be on the side or near the back of the craft. Can you do that for me?”

Before he had even finished, she had moved to crane her head over side to get a look. There was a name inscribed in large gold lettering and a bunch of black vinyl numbers underneath it that Emma could only assume was a serial number.

“Ma’am? Ma’am? Are you there, ma’am?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you find the name of your craft?”

“The Spinning Wheel,” she replied. “And I think, serial code...RU3PL3ST1K?”

“Thank you, ma’am. Your craft has a locator on it. We should be able to get to you in about 30 minutes to an hour depending on the accuracy of your locator. In the meantime, keep your radio on and tend to your friend. We’re sending a helicopter to get you. Look for any flares aboard your craft and set them off. They will help our responders find you.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” She couldn’t stop saying the words.

As soon as she was off the comm with the Coast Guard, she immediately shot off the flare gun. She watched in brief fascination as the flare flew up; red smoke bursting through the air, thick and vivid. It reminded her slightly of fireworks.

She returned to Killian’s side. He was propped up against the side of the boat, cradling his injured arm against his chest and looking as white as bone. Emma immediately wrapped her arms around him, pulling him to her.

“Someone is coming,” she murmured into his hair. “You gotta hang on because someone is coming and they’re going to help us.”

Killian nodded weakly, seeming to barely register her words.

“So much for a dashing rescue,” he said faintly.

“What can I say, the only person who saves me is me,” she replied shakily, attempting to smile.

He chuckled a bit at that, the corners of his lips lifting faintly. “You’re brilliant, Swan.”

“And you’re going to be okay...you have to be okay…you said you weren’t going to leave me…”

“I’m not sure I have much of a choice in this…”

“You’re right, you don’t. I’m not going to allow you. I won’t let you. I refuse god fucking damn it!” Hot tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes as she clutched him tighter, afraid that he would slip through her fingers. She ran her fingers down his back in attempt to comfort him, placing fleeting kisses against his crown.

She couldn’t lose him.

Killian had become important. In the past few weeks, he had wormed his way past her walls, through her rib cage and straight into her heart. She didn’t know what they were or what they would be but she knew that she wanted him alive and in her life. He was her person in a way that no one else had been.

Despite her insistence that he wasn’t allowed to die, she had held her breath; fully aware that neither of them had control of the situation. Emma had done her best to stop the bleeding but there was no telling how much blood he had lost before she had even applied the tourniquet. She watched his color, growing increasingly more panicked as he got paler and paler.

She nearly burst into tears when she heard the beating sound of the helicopter’s wings cutting through the air.

They were going to make it.

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fic #cs fanfic #cs fanfiction #cssns #seal of fate #my fic #my shit

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welllpthisishappening · 6 years

Text

Almost Believing, This One's Not Pretend

They don’t grow up skating together.

They don’t even want to start skating together.

But then life happens and they kind of need each other and maybe that sentence means a lot more than either one of them are willing to admit at first. Or ever. So they keep skating and, sometimes, winning and, always, ignoring the questions. There are a lot of questions.

Because how could two people have so much chemistry on the ice when they’re just partners?

Rating: That upper teen again. There is a lot of swearing in ice dancing. Word Count: About 12K total because, lolz, words, but only about 5K’ish in chapter one. AN: I continue to have no chill whatsoever about the Olympics and I said I wasn’t going to write a skating fic because, as I told my husband, “it’s too obvious, I want to write about the random sports.” But then you guys were awesome and my brain was like write it, so here we are. A huge thank you to the people who sent me messages and were also like write it, because that is honestly the nicest. That, naturally, includes @katie-dub & @distant-rose. Also on Ao3 & chapter two here because, uh, it’s a lot of words.

“It’s fine.” “Yuh huh.” “It is fine.” “Say it one more time.”

Emma scowls, narrowing her eyes, but Elsa doesn’t back down and she didn’t really expect her to because the word fine has, at some indeterminate point, stopped really meaning anything and she kind of feels like a broken record.

That’s a very old sentence.

“It’s fine,” Emma says again and the words sound just as foreign as they did before, but she’s got to get it right and maybe if she keeps repeating herself and citing vaguely ancient metaphors it really will be fine.

She is an absolute disaster.

“That one was, actually, almost better,” Mary Margaret adds, flashing an honest smile that does little to assuage the nerves festering in the pit of Emma’s stomach.

Mary Margaret is perched on the edge of the bed, a half-filled suitcase sitting a few feet behind her and there are far too many clothes draped everywhere, a mess of Team USA jackets and hair supplies she probably doesn’t have to bring with her, but Emma likes to be prepared and it really is going to be fine.

It is definitely not going to be fine.

“Can we not do this right now?” Emma asks. She leans back, but somewhere in between repeating herself and trying to believe what she’s repeating and remembering where she put her goddamn passport, she’s managed to forget that her closet door is still open.

She nearly kills herself.

“You really should probably practice a few more times,” Elsa suggests. It is not a suggestion. “It just, you know…” Emma lifts her eyebrows, trying to stand up straight, but it’s almost as pointless as repeating herself because she’s got nothing to push off of.

There’s a lesson in there somewhere.

She ignores it.

She’s going to be late.

“You want to finish that sentence,” Emma challenges, but Elsa’s already shaking her head and they are going in circles. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” “Happy thoughts,” Mary Margaret mutters.

Emma sighs, shaking her hair off her shoulders and, finally, standing up straight and she can’t fuck up her posture because that will probably mess with her ability to skate and that’s kind of the point of all of this.

Fine.

Fine. Fine. Fine.

It. Is. Fine.

“If you’re waiting for me to burst into song or something you’re going to be sorely disappointed,” Emma says, eyeing Mary Margaret with something almost resembling a smirk and it doesn’t work. That’s disappointing. “And,” she adds, nodding towards the tiny speaker sitting in the corner of the room. “I don’t think my voice is really going to match up with that music.”

“I did not use those words at all. I’m only suggesting that a positive attitude might help when people start asking questions.” “Because they’re going to ask questions,” Elsa adds and they aren’t just broken records, they’re going in circles and something resembling that cliché about insanity. “Like a lot of questions.” Emma nods, but she’s not entirely sure what she’s agreeing to. Elsa didn’t ask a question. “Sure,” she says.

She throws her hair spray over her suitcase.

She was aiming for the suitcase.

Elsa glances at Mary Margaret. It’s not as sneaky as she wanted it to be.

“They’ve asked questions before,” Mary Margaret reasons. “It’s not like Emma doesn’t have media training.” “Yeah,” Elsa says slowly. “But that was, well, before.”

Emma wishes she hadn’t moved away from the wall. Or that she’d put her goddamn clothes in her goddamn suitcase.

It would be easier to fall over if there was somewhere to fall.

As it is, there’s nowhere to fall and nowhere to run, literally or metaphorically, and she’s got a flight to catch and a gold medal to win and questions to avoid.

Politely. Artfully. With a smile on her face.

Her phone buzzes somewhere. And Elsa can’t quite hide the way her eyebrows jump into her hairline.

Emma continues to try and stay upright.

“Here,” Mary Margaret says, holding the still-buzzing phone with an expectant look on her face. Emma continues to ignore that too. “It was underneath the inexplicable amount of mousse you’re bringing with you to South Korea.”

Emma makes another face and she’s dimly aware of whatever it is Elsa mumbles under her breath, something about it freezing that way, but her hand is steady when she takes her phone and her voice doesn’t shake when she answers. She’s not even surprised to find she can hear his goddamn smile from wherever he is.

Probably on the sidewalk outside.

“How many cans of hairspray are you trying to fit into your suitcase right now?” Killian asks and Emma rolls her eyes. Mary Margaret glances at Elsa.

They are all horrible at this.

“That is none of your business,” Emma hisses.

He laughs. Loudly.

It is fine.

“I think it will be my business when I end up carrying most of the bags,” he says. “You want to buzz me in or you want me to just look like I’m loitering down here?” “The second one, definitely.”

“Swan.” “You didn’t actually tell me you were downstairs yet. Just started making sweeping generalizations about the status of my luggage.”

“There were no generalizations involved, Swan,” Killian grins. She assumes he’s still smiling. She hopes he’s still smiling. “There was several years worth of knowledge regarding your packing tendencies.” “Were you endorsed by Merriam-Webster at some point?” He barks out another laugh and Mary Margaret absolutely hears it because Mary Margaret’s eyes absolutely widen and it will be some kind of miracle if they get out of the continental United States without several different gossip websites posting stories about them.

There have already been so many stories.

“Buzz me up, Swan,” Killian says and she does and he only makes eight jokes about the hair products she absolutely does not have to bring with her to the Olympics.

It is, probably, some kind of record.

Mary Margaret and Elsa don’t say anything when he walks into the room, flashing a smile Emma’s direction and turning the music up without asking.

That is also, probably, some kind of record.

Totally fine.

Absolutely fine.

For sure.

“We going to win, Jones?” Emma asks, hours later on a plane they didn’t book themselves. They’re somewhere over somewhere, possibly an ocean, and she’s already lost track of the time difference.

He was absolutely asleep.

Killian hums, a quiet, confused sound that seems to echo through the otherwise silent plane and one of Emma’s feet has gone pins and needles. It’s probably because she’s got her legs draped over his.

Probably.

She’s not a doctor.

“Why are you saying words right now?” Killian mumbles, head lolling to the side and Emma only grunts slightly when it crashes on top of hers.

“I mean, only a few words, really.” He chuckles, twisting in his seat and they’d moved the arm rest as soon as they sat down. “Ah, that’s true,” he mutters and his voice sounds a little scratchy and just a bit gruff and it’s familiar like a blanket is familiar. A mix of home and comfort and neither one of those things should probably be used to describe a person, but Killian’s not just a person, he’s Emma’s person and her partner and they’re totally going to win.

She wants to hear him say it anyway.

She’s a little selfish like that.

Killian doesn’t say anything.

Emma grumbles. And then nearly growls when he laughs again, the quirk of his mouth obvious even through the slightly tangled mess that his her hair several hours into a fourteen-hour flight.

“You’re being difficult on purpose,” she accuses, pressing a finger into the jut of his hip and that’s playing dirty.

She shouldn’t know that it makes him flinch and, sometimes, when she’d nip her teeth over the same spot it would get him to make that one, particular noise that she still, somehow thinks about.

“I’m being nothing, Swan,” Killian argues, wincing when something in his back cracks. “Because you woke me up. Because I was being something. Asleep. I was being asleep.” “That’s not even proper sentence structure.” “I will repeat myself. I was asleep.” “Can you just answer the question, please?” “What was the question?” Emma groans, squeezing her eyes closed and slumping in her increasingly uncomfortable seat. She tries to swing her feet back onto the floor, but Killian has always been far quicker than her and, maybe, that’s part of their problem.

He catches her around the ankle and flashes her that grin, something closer to a smirk and if she thinks about it, she’s never seen him look at anyone else that way.

She doesn’t think about it.

She thinks about it way too much.

“Of course we are, Swan. No matter what,” Killian says and she can’t bring herself to argue with him. “You going to go to sleep now?”

She stabs him in the hip again. And falls asleep four minutes later.

It starts, as with most things, because David is a complete idiot.

David Nolan’s consistent and dependable idiocy is the reason behind several different things in Emma’s life – her penchant for cinnamon on hot chocolate, how inexplicably good she is at lacing her skates in less than a minute and how she ended up skating with Killian Jones in the first place.

Emma is eight eight years old when she lands in Portland, her third group home in as many years, and she shouldn’t have met David Nolan, but he’s there and his mom’s there and they were dropping off clothes.

Emma takes one of the jackets.

And the upstairs bedroom in their tiny house in Storybrooke.

She gets adopted on a Tuesday and starts skating on a Friday and they have to drive two hours back to Portland, one way, for ice time.

It’s David’s idea.

“It’ll be fun, Em,” he tells her, dragging her out onto a patch of ice that she eyes warily because she’s all too aware that it was only just recently a lake and they’re far enough away from the house that Ruth won’t hear them if she drowns.

She doesn’t drown.

She finds her footing and David, apparently, has some kind of absurd center of balance because he’s really good at those spins their coach eventually tells Emma are called twizzles.

“I told you,” David grins after their first win. Emma squeezes the teddy bear she picked off the ice, the cheers echoing in between her ears and cemented into every corner of her brain and she mumbles idiot before wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging as tightly as she can.

It’s exhausting. It’s exciting. It’s some other adjective that starts with the letter ‘e.’

They compete on the junior circuit and Emma is fourteen when she first hears the murmurs of Olympics and it makes her pulse race.

She and David take the world by some kind of storm, a fresh face in American skating, or so articles that discuss American skating say, and it‘s several other words that all boil down to fantastic until, quite suddenly, it’s not fantastic.

She’s twenty years old and they don’t make the Olympics and David winces every time he does one of those goddamn twizzles.

They hold a press conference.

“There’s an issue with my back,” David says and Emma has to bite her tongue so she doesn’t cry when there are cameras present. “A problem that’s been lingering since last year’s Worlds and after meeting with several doctors, both Emma and I have decided that it’ll be best if I step away from competition.”

It’s a lie.

A blatant lie.

And it makes every single one of her muscles ache and Emma can see Mary Margaret wiping at her cheeks in the corner of the room.

Emma bites her tongue until she tastes blood and blinks far too often and she doesn’t cry, but it’s awfully close because it feels a little bit like the world is ending.

She tries to keep skating, but she doesn’t know how to move without another human being near her and every single note of music sounds decidedly sour and she’s lost her edge – literally and metaphorical.

She’s sitting on the ice, legs splayed out awkwardly at her side, when she hears the footsteps. “Go back home, David. I’m almost done anyway.” “Yeah, you look it,” he laughs and she hadn’t noticed the second set of footsteps.

Emma’s eyes widen, lips parting with an audible pop and her first thought is that he looks like a skater. His legs aren’t long and he’s got this slightness to him, but there’s a certainty to his shoulders that gives Emma pause and she’s almost positive his eyes actually flash when he looks at her.

Her second thought isn’t quite as dignified.

He’s crazy, stupid good looking.

“I’m going to fix everything, Em,” David announces, clapping the stranger on the back and the stranger is wearing a leather jacket. Emma presses her lips back together. “Killian Jones, meet Emma Swan. Em, meet Killian Jones. You guys are going to win Olympic gold.”

Emma decides she hates Killian Jones at, exactly five thirty-seven after a practice that has gone on far too long.

He groans, running his hand over his face and his hair is sticking to his forehead. “You’ve got to hit the beat, Swan,” he says, straining on every letter like each one is a particular type of challenge.

Like she’s a particular type of challenge.

They’ve been doing this for a month and David keeps promising it’ll get better, but it only seems to be getting worse and Emma absolutely hates Killian Jones.

She’d looked him up that first day – or, rather, called Elsa and her eyes had nearly bugged out of her head when Emma said the name. Because Killian Jones is good. Real good. Olympic-bound, the subject of skating articles kind of good.

But he’d also been a solo skater and had some kind of vaguely horrible reputation and he kept calling Emma love like he knew how much it set her teeth on edge and there was that rumor about him hooking up with his coach, but Elsa didn’t know about that. Emma never asked.

David promised it would be fine.

And Emma trusted David.

He was friends with Killian. He liked Killian. He knew Killian from the junior circuit and everyone in skating knows everyone else in skating and if you guys can just not kill each other, you’ll be medaling in no time.

“Swan, are you even listening to me?” Killian snaps, jerking her out thoughts and Emma considers throwing her skate at him.

“I have a name, you know,” she seethes, moving into his space and pressing her index finger into his chest and his eyes are all blue and fire and neither one of them move for an eternity. “Use it.”

“Noted, love.” She’s going to kill him.

She doesn’t kill him.

She comes up with several, increasingly dramatic ways she’d like to, but she doesn’t.

Because Emma loves skating and she wants to skate and the only way she can do that is by skating with Killian Jones.

So she’s going to make this work.

Except that seems like the single most impossible thing in the world because they fight about everything. They spend most of their practices glaring at each other and arguing over the music choices and the costume choices and it might actually be a miracle when they finally, almost find a rhythm a few months in, landing side-by-sides in perfect tandem during practice.

That’s about as good as it gets.

The first year is, in a word, horrible.

It’s bad and awful and so goddamn disappointing Emma is certain she’s made of it, glaring at Killian as soon as they come off the ice at Four Continents.

They’ve medaled once – a silver at some random event she’d never heard of on the Grand Prix circuit – and it doesn’t mean much of anything because the Olympics are only three years away. They need to win more. They need to win consistently.

They need to stick their fucking side-by-side twizzles.

“What the fuck was that supposed to be?” Emma hisses, trying not to move her mouth too much. She’s far too aware of the cameras. And the distinct lack of cheers. “We weren’t even close to sync’ed.” “I’m well aware of that, love,” Killian shoots back and every single one of her hairs bristles at the endearment. Or whatever the opposite of endearment is.

He’s doing it on purpose now, she’s positive.

“And,” he adds, wrapping his fingers around her wrist. She nearly trips over her own skates. “You were off on the down beat again. You’ve got to listen to the music, Swan. It’s not all technique.” She glares at him.

The scores are, as expected, absolute garbage – a tenth-place finish after the short program that doesn’t inspire a single tweet, let alone any headlines or positive articles and Emma is somewhere between desperate and furious by the time they get back to the hotel.

They haven’t said a single word to each other in hours.

And, really, Emma is more than content to just go back to her room and possibly throw every single pillow against the wall, but she knows they’ve got to watch tape and there’s another routine to prepare for and she can’t really breathe.

“Swan?” Killian asks lightly, glancing at her over his shoulder when she freezes in her tracks. A bellhop almost runs her over.

She blinks quickly and her tongue feels like it’s growing at the same time her throat is shrinking and her lungs have, apparently, evaporated or, maybe, they’ve just entered some kind of vacuum where oxygen no longer exists.

Emma doesn’t know. She’s not a scientist.

Killian tilts his head when she doesn’t answer, the look on his face completely foreign. “Emma,” he whispers, brushing his fingers over the curve of her elbow and it might be the softest thing that’s ever happened to her. “Are you alright?”

“We’re really, really bad at this. Like. We are so bad at this.”

It’s obviously not the answer he expects, eyes bugging slightly and Emma’s clearly lost her mind because all she can think about is how blue his eyes are and his fingers are still tracing absent-minded patterns on her jacket sleeve.

Killian barks out a laugh, taking a step into her space and they’d been on the ice a few hours before, but it feels like the closest they’ve ever been. Emma tugs her lips behind her teeth, trying to keep her equilibrium and their feet are almost brushing.

“Embarrassingly bad,” Killian agrees. “And our music is the absolute worst.” “You don’t like the music?”

“I hate it.” “God, I feel like that’s something I should have known.”

“I didn’t bring it up.” “Seems par for the course,” Emma mutters, wincing when she realizes how absolutely bitter it sounds and she’s hit with the sudden realization that they, maybe, never really talked.

Ever.

No wonder they’re awful.

Killian grins. It’s stupid attractive. “Was that a joke, Swan? Are you making sports puns now?” “Back to the nickname, huh?” “Birdied on the fourteenth hole.” “That doesn’t even make any sense,” she accuses, pressing a finger into his chest.

They both freeze, eyes falling to her hand and Emma can’t move if she tries. She doesn’t try. And the moment seems to stretch on forever, eyes wide and breathing shallow and she swears she can feel the heat of him even through his jacket.

It is entirely possible the world recenters in that moment.

Emma’s still not a scientist.

“True,” Killian admits, a hint of a smile and a flash of something and the music is really bad. She’d been using it with David and there was something, almost, comforting in that, but Emma is suddenly hit with the realization that Killian is not David and this is not the past and she never listens to the down beat.

“Do you like onion rings?” she asks.

Killian smiles. “Who doesn’t like onion rings?” David never liked onion rings.

Emma refuses to admit it feels like a sign.

They order three servings of onion rings from room service and watch the tape sitting cross-legged on the bed in Emma’s room.

She tells him she focuses on technique because, more often than not, it’s easier to control than to feel and that’s only vaguely terrifying, but her history is, well, her history.

He tells her he started skating because his brother couldn’t afford the hockey equipment he really wanted, only to discover he was pretty damn good at landing jumps.

She tells him about Neal and she was seventeen and he was charming, but distracting and kind of a dick and David never blamed her for that one program in Montreal. It was absolutely her fault.

He tells her about Milah and the rumors that were true and nearly got him to walk away from the rink, but she was married and it was a mistake. He still misses her sometimes.

They sit.

They eat way too many onion rings.

They watch the tape six times.

And they come up with a way to fix it.

They finish in fifth place the next day.

It goes from there.

They’re teammates.

They're partners.

They’re friends.

At some point they might become each other's best friend.

Emma doesn't ever tell Mary Margaret that.

It doesn't matter.

Mary Margaret knows.

Everyone knows.

They medal in their next major event.

And, suddenly, it’s sixteen months from PyeongChang and things are going well. Really well. Too well.

“You’re a pessimist, Swan,” Killian says, sitting in the waiting room they give to pairs in medal position and Emma wants to start pacing.

There are two more programs and they're sitting in first place, still, but she can’t seem to stop fidgeting.

“A realist,” Emma corrects. She stabs her finger into his side, working a smirk out of him that probably gets caught on camera, but she can’t bring herself to think about that when the music for the French team hits her ears.

Emma doesn’t breathe for the next two programs, alternating between heavy sighs and gripping Killian’s hand tightly enough that, at one point during the Canadian program, he mumbles you’re going to pop a blood vessel, love. He also doesn’t let go of her hand.

She closes her eyes when the final scores are announced.

“Swan,” Killian mutters. “Swan. Emma!” “What?” He nods towards the monitor in the corner and the lights from the cameras suddenly pointed at them feel very bright.

“We won,” Emma breathes. “We won. Did we win just win gold?”

Killian laughs, loud and honest and it shakes down Emma’s spine until it lands somewhere in the realm of her stomach, warming her from the inside out. She’s surprised the ice doesn’t melt. “Why are you phrasing this as a question, love?” he asks, pressing a kiss to her temple and that’s the first time that’s ever happened.

Emma shakes her head slowly, trying to get her to brain to process all the things it’s doing at the moment, but that’s incredibly difficult and she’s still holding Killian’s hand. Or maybe the other way around.

“We won,” she whispers. He kisses her again.

The rumors start the next day. Mary Margaret, eventually, informs Emma they started as soon as the cameras spotted her fingers laced with Killian's, but that’s neither here nor there. The point is there are rumors and questions and probably blog posts about their chemistry because they’ve finally found their chemistry and they keep winning events.

“We’re just friends,” Emma says for what feels like the one-thousandth time, a few hours removed from their short program at Worlds and nearly every question has been about something other than the short program.

Killian glances at her, a smile tugging on the end of his mouth. “Partners,” he adds, voice even and sarcastic. “No matter what.”

Emma kicks him under the table.

He does something stupid with his eyebrows.

They skate better than they ever have that weekend – a year out away from PyeongChang and another gold medal and their twizzles are somewhere in the realm of perfect and Emma’s heart feels like it’s about to beat out of her chest by the time they get off the podium.

Killian’s hand is always warm when he holds onto Emma’s. She’s noticed it and, possibly, logged it in that back corner of her brain where she keeps good things. It’s practically on fire when they leave another press conference, cameras flashing and questions ringing in her ears and the weight of the medal is heavy around her neck.

“You were brilliant, Swan,” he says, turning on her in the hallway behind the press room. Her heart speeds up. That didn’t seem possible. “Absolutely brilliant.” “Charmer. Even if the music you picked was a little fairy tale.” Killian rolls his eyes, but his right hand has found her hip and it’s moving and everything else seems kind of pointless. “Good music. From a movie about fairy tales. And the real world. They spend most of that movie in the real world.” “Still, it’s about fairy tales.” “You are the single most stubborn person on the planet, you know that?” “I do,” Emma says easily, grinning and the muscles in her face are starting to ache. “But, honestly, you did good today. We did good. And, you know, the music wasn’t that bad.” “Ah, you flatter me, love. That was almost a compliment.” She groans, rocking her head back and forth and she’s only dimly aware of his smile when she’s trying to push her finger into his chest and that’s kind of become a thing. Killian wrapping his own fingers around her wrist and pulling her hand away is absolutely, positively not part of the thing.

“I can give compliments,” Emma say, but it’s breathless and cautious and there were a lot of questions. The music was totally about a fairy tale.

“Sometimes.” “Seems kind of rude. Occasionally. At worst.” “Is that not the same word?” Emma shakes her head. “No. Right? I don’t think so. Maybe we should ask Mary Margaret. I bet Mary Margaret would know.”

“I really don’t want to ask Mary Margaret about that.” “No?” “No.”

“Right, right,” Emma stammers and they still haven’t moved out of the hallway. It’s loud and there are people everywhere and coaches and skates scraping across tiled floor. She doesn’t remember resting her hands on Killian’s chest.

He needs to blink.

She wishes he would blink.

“Swan,” he says and she can’t quite cope with the way he’s staring at her. It feels like a perfect execution on the technical components.

It’s the least romantic thing she’s ever thought.

She’s not sure if it’s supposed to be romantic – but there were the questions and the rumors and his hand is so impossibly warm on her hip and they just won. They won. There’s got to be some kind of metaphor in there somewhere.

Mary Margaret would think it was a sign.

Emma really needs to stop thinking about Mary Margaret.

So, instead, she absolutely does not think. She moves her hands half an inch and wraps her fingers around his goddamn gold medal and tugs – hard.

To his credit, Killian doesn’t stumble, but his eyes do widen and in the days and weeks and months that follow Emma will spend a lot more time thinking about that particular moment than she’s willing to admit, but then she’s kissing him or he’s kissing her and nothing else really matters.

Emma’s still in her skates, so she doesn’t have to press up on her toes and she’s only fairly certain she’d lose her balance if she tried. She keeps pulling on the medal, trying to pull him closer to her and Killian doesn’t object, just slants his lips over hers and does something absolutely absurd with his tongue until she’s opening her mouth and sighing against him and there’s some kind of impossible rhythm to it all.

Like the music is playing again.

And that’s definitely a metaphor.

Emma rocks up, canting her hips into his and she smiles when he makes some kind of strangled sound in the back of his throat, like he’s been waiting for this or her or them – as some kind of collective unit, even off the ice.

She tries to twist, but Killian’s hands are heavy on her back, holding her against him and she swears he’s smiling. She might be smiling.

She’s definitely smiling.

It doesn’t really surprise her that Killian is incredibly good at kissing her – or maybe she’s incredibly good at kissing him and it just...keeps going. They break apart and come back together and it’s the same give and take they’ve found on the ice, some sort of dance around each other that ends with a lot more touching and a lot more sighing and Emma’s fingers in his hair.

That’s slightly more romantic than her previous thoughts.

At some point, the need to breathe becomes a bit more important than the need to keep making out in the middle of the hallway, but it’s still pretty close and Emma’s shoulders are heaving and her eyes are wide and it kind of feels like her lips might be swollen.

“That was uh…” Killian mutters and Emma silently congratulates herself on rendering him speechless for the first time ever.

She bites her lip, trying to get her bearings or, just, like, control of her life, but that seems absolutely impossible because she just made out with Killian Jones in the hallway. “Yeah, it was,” she says and she’s not sure who’s more surprised, her or him because that might have been an agreement and she doesn’t feel particularly inclined to run away.

Killian smiles, the expression moving across his face slowly and all at once and it’s an impossibility, but that seems to be the trend at the moment.

Par for the course.

Emma groans.

And Killian looks slightly scandalized.

“Emma,” he whispers, thumb brushing over the curve of her jaw. “I’m…” She wishes he would finish a sentence. Or possibly just kiss her again. “No, no, that’s...” she says and sentence structure is vastly overrated. “It was me. Right?”

“No, love, it wasn’t.” Killian ducks his head and kisses her again and it’s short and sweet and better than the first time because they both get better with practice. “C’mon, Swan,” he continues. “I’ll buy you some onion rings.”

Chapter Two continued on Ao3 because it’s a lot of words.

#cs ff #captain swan #cs #captain swan ff #cs fic #this just...it spiraled #if anyone can guess what the fairy tale song is i'll love you forever #that's like half the reason this fic happened #that song came on shuffle a couple days ago and i saw the whole routine happen

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whiplash-story · 6 years

Text

CHAPTER VIII

Kyler

* * *

“Astro 7? Come in, what’s your status?”

“Great! Everything’s going according to plan!” Kyler yelled.

Everything was most certainly not going according to plan.

He’d made it successfully out of the hangar, barrelling over a few guards on his way, but the Corinthians had quickly found their way to their own vessels, and it seemed his hull wasn’t as fortified as he’d thought. His stolen ship was taking heavy fire, and it wasn’t faring all that well.

The smell of smoke filled his nostrils and Kyler swore heavily as he maneuvered the ship between the soaring trees and dodged as many of the blasts as he could.

It didn’t exactly help that the ship’s systems felt the need to point out his current situation--”You are under heavy fire,” a robotic voice announced.

“I’m working on it,” he said through gritted teeth, fully aware that the system had no A.I. and most likely couldn’t hear him. Cracks splintered in the glass of his windshield as more of his attackers’ ships soared in front of him. He fired his shuttle’s weapons, but the blasts glanced harmlessly off the armored hulls of the newer carriers. Kyler’s heart thundered inside of his chest. He was surrounded--and utterly screwed.

“Surrender yourself,” came a blaring voice over the radio of his ship, “and perhaps we will spare your life.”

Ha. They’d hand him right over to Rzer for the bounty that hung over his head, and the only reason that Rzer would ever spare him would be to get information about the resistance--and then he would kill him. Yeah, right.

“Go to hell,” he responded coolly.

The ships pressed in closer, and Kyler had the fleeting thought that this was not how he wanted to go out.

His mind whirred. Corinthians were an advanced race, yes, with stronger weapons than almost any other race in the galaxy, but they were hesitant to spark disagreements with other planets unless there was money involved--especially ones they thought could beat them. Yeren was nearby, and far more powerful than Corinth. If he could get there, they wouldn’t follow him. He’d be safe--well, as safe as he could be with a few million hanging over his head. All he had to do was get off this godforsaken planet and get inside Yeren’s atmosphere.

Cake.

It was time to do something stupid.

Kyler scanned the ships in front of him. His was smaller, but that made it faster, sharper. And maybe he was surrounded on all sides, but that still left one way to go.

Up.

Kyler slammed the acceleration and yanked the throttle back as far as it would go without coming loose entirely. He barely had any room to get a start, but the ship did well, skyrocketing upwards like a bullet. It clipped one of the crafts in front of him as it did. A sharp crash resounded through his shuttle, but it survived, the circle of attackers growing more and more distant as he shot through the atmosphere.

“Yes!” Kyler grinned, blood still pounding in his ears.

“Structural damage to the right wing,” the ship replied.

He groaned at the reminder that he still had a ways to go before he could celebrate. Yeren was already visible in the distance, but the smell of smoke had grown stronger, and the ship harder to control. And the Corinthians hadn’t left his tail yet; they had settled into a formation behind him. Blasts shuddered against the hull once more.

There was nothing much to do besides fly; he pushed the ship harder and harder, firm on the acceleration and weaving between the fire until Yeren was within reach.

And then the lights on the console flickered. No, no no no--

“Structural damage to the main power core.”

“Fuck!” he swore. Yeren was so close. He gripped the throttle with white knuckles, but the ship began to falter. It needed power--a thought came to him suddenly, and he cursed himself for being so stupid. He had power. With a deep breath, Kyler shut his eyes as blue sparks began to dance along his fingers. He pressed his hands against the console, praying it would work, and let a surge of electricity pass through his body and into the vessel.

It whirred to life. The lights came on, brighter than before, and the ship made a final push through into Yeren’s atmosphere. He threw a glance over his shoulder, watching as the Corinthians fell back. A cheer rose in his throat, but it died very suddenly as he realized that the power surge had been short-lived, and he no longer had control of the ship.

“You are losing altitude,” the robotic voice declared.

Kyler yanked the throttle desperately, trying to aim away from the sprawling silver city and towards the empty hills. The ship sputtered, the ground coming at him faster and faster. Panic flooded him very suddenly.

“Hey, Commander Nova?” He pressed a finger to his comm and choked on the smoke filling the craft as he abandoned the controls altogether, struggling with the hatch. It would be better to land on the grass from this height than be trapped in the wreckage, he decided. But the door wouldn’t budge. He cursed again and screwed his eyes shut.

“So,” he said, trying to keep his tone even, “I might be a little late to our rendezvous point.”

He braced himself as the ship slammed into the ground.

* *

Kyler woke up on a stranger’s ship with a splitting headache.

A soft groan escaped his lips as he sat up slowly, fingers brushing against his temple. He blinked in surprise when they met a soft white bandage. Strange. His eyes flitted around the room.

The ship was small but sleek, with white walls and long windows and strange potted plants scattered around. Whoever owned this ship had money--and they also had him, he realized abruptly.

Instantly, the worst possible scenarios came to his mind--bounty hunters, Yertian officials, maybe even some of Rzer’s men themselves--whatever it was, he was probably going to have to fight his way out of this one.

On the plus side, this ship would make a kickass gift for Nova and the rest of the Resistance.

Nova, he thought suddenly, and pressed a finger to his comm. “Commander? Can you hear me?” Nothing but static. The stupid thing was busted.

Kyler huffed as he swung his legs over the metal bed he sat on and stood up. His aviator’s jacket was gone, but his cargo pants and shirt remained--both singed and peppered with holes, he noted. He walked--stumbled--out of the room and into a narrow hallway that seemed to lead to the main cortex of the ship, where he could hear an unfamiliar voice. With carefully soft footsteps, he crept down the hall.

A man sat at the controls, holding a radio that crackled with a voice Kyler couldn’t fully understand. A moment passed and the ship’s pilot responded with a curt, “Thank you for the report. Dismissed,” and set the radio aside.

Kyler stepped forward, but before he could make another move, the man had turned around in his chair and was staring him down with cold, icy blue eyes.

“Where am I? Who are you?” Kyler demanded, his fingers crackling with blue electricity.

The man tilted his head curiously. “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” he replied, nodding at his sparking hands.

“Oh yeah?” Kyler scoffed. “And why the hell shouldn’t I?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a wave of nausea and swayed on his feet. Oh. That’s why. “What did you do to me?” he groaned, clutching a hand to his bandaged head.

“Nothing,” his kidnapper said swiftly. “But you had quite the crash back on Yeren. Really, it was a spectacle. It’s a wonder you’re on your feet already.”

“I’ve got a thick skull.”

“I’m sure.” The man looked amused.

Kyler steadied himself against the wall, waiting for his head to stop spinning. “So you’re gonna take me back to Zetari? Hand me over to Rzer?” he said finally. “Fair warning, as soon as he gets what he wants he’ll probably knock that perfect head of yours right off its shoulders. Mount it on a wall or something—right next to a huge gold-framed picture of himself.” He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, I’m well aware of the...shortcomings of Zetari’s leadership. But the bounty isn’t what I’m looking for.”

Kyler’s eyes narrowed. That came as an unexpected surprise. “If you’re not a bounty hunter...then who are you, and what do you want?” he asked, brow furrowed. “I’m guessing you didn’t get me off of Yeren out of the goodness of your heart.”

The man laughed. “Not quite. My name is Nolan Sharpe. I’m the CEO of a clandestine research operation, and,” he paused, which seemed to Kyler like it was just for the sake of dramatics, “I have a job for you.”

“Yeah?” Kyler lifted an eyebrow and put on what he hoped was a somewhat intimidating scowl—which perhaps would’ve been a little scarier if he wasn’t currently using the ship’s wall as a crutch. “What makes you think I want to be your lackey?”

“It’s come to my attention that you went to Corinth in search of weapons from Vorlan, but he wanted more money than you have to offer.” Sharpe leaned forward, folding his hands in his lap. “I can give you the money. Better yet, I can supply you with weapons more advanced than anything Vorlan can offer you.”

Kyler’s mind whirred. This man already seemed to know far too much about him and his mission—but his offer sounded tempting. The last thing he wanted to do was return to the Zetarian underground empty-handed.

“I’m just supposed to believe you have that sort of money and tech?” he asked suspiciously.

Sharpe smiled and stood up from his chair, pulling out a long case from under the dashboard. “I thought it might take some convincing.” He opened the case.

Inside was a slim, shining prosthetic leg. It was made of silver metal, with electric blue lining and smooth joints. Kyler’s eyes swept over it, studying the design carefully; it was better made than anything he’d ever seen and looked more effective than anything he’d used before. Whoever this guy was, he really wasn’t messing around.

“It’s a blend of carbon fiber and a titanium-steel alloy. Extra light, but also extremely durable. And, you no longer have to switch between settings when you run or walk or anything else—this will do it for you. There’s even an underwater feature,” Nolan explained, a proud expression on his face.

Kyler felt his eyes grow wide and actually had to stop himself from gasping aloud. He reached a hand out to touch it, but before he could, the case snapped closed.

“So, we have a deal?” Sharpe asked. “You do the job in exchange for weapons? Or, I could drop you back on Yeren and we could pretend this exchange never happened.”

He chewed his lip in thought. He didn’t know if he could trust this Nolan character, but he had a better shot of helping the resistance if he had the money and the resources that he’d offered. And besides, that leg was pretty freaking badass.

“Alright, Sharpe,” he nodded finally. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Nolan smiled. “Wonderful.” He reached under the dashboard once more and handed Kyler a pile of clean clothes; his aviator’s jacket, freshly washed and sewn up, and under it a t-shirt and cargo pants not unlike the damaged ones he currently wore.

“Get dressed,” he said, gesturing to a bathroom. “We’ll be arriving shortly.”

#whiplash #whiplash story #kyler haxem #chapter viii #part 8 #chapter 8 #update #new update #new chapter #whiplash chapter 8 #whiplash series #original story #original series #original characters #sci-fi series #sci-fi story #space #umana

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jasntodds · 6 years

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Lover’s Redemption || Part 3

Pairing: Theo Raeken x Reader Warnings: Angst (always), little fluff, mentions of blood & death Request: Anon- Hi! Could you pls make an imagine where scott big sister is a hunter who help scott. She used to be sexbuddies with theo until she founds out he tried to kill her brother...etc A/N: Tbh I really like this and I hope you guys do, too Prt. 1, Prt. 2, Prt. 3 Masterlist Winter/holiday masterlist Prompt list Winter/holiday prompt list

Two weeks pass and Scott devised a plan with you and the pack. Your mom was going to be at the hospital with Mason and Corey, ready to fight whatever hunters showed up there. You were to stick with Theo and Liam since the three of you worked fairly well and Liam’s plan didn’t go horribly. The rest of the pack would be at the high school, taking care of Anuke-Ite. Which, to your relief, Stiles and Derek showed up to help. The pack could use as many people as possible and things seemed to always work out with the help of Stiles and Derek.

However, as usual, Scott’s plan, even with the help of Stiles, did not go as planned. Liam was supposed to meet you and Theo at Deaton’s office and he was already ten minutes late. Your thumbs tapped on the metal table as you pressed your palms against it.

“Where the hell is Liam?” You groan.

“I thought you would know.” Theo remarks, his arms crossed with his back leaned against one of the brick walls.

“Nope.” You pop the ‘p’.

“Sure he’s fine.”

“Oh yeah, no. I’m sure he is too, it’s the other people I’m concerned about. He nearly killed Nolan in case you forgot.”

“I didn’t forget.” Theo rolls his eyes. “He didn’t kill him though.”

You sigh and push up from the table. “I know. I heard you by the way, on the way home. I wasn’t sleeping. What’s your deal with him?” You ask bluntly as you hop on the table, facing Theo while your legs dangle.

“Uh, what?” Theo quirks a row as his forehead wrinkled with confusion.

“You,” You shake your head. “I don’t know, you’re nice to him.”

“I’m not that bad guy anymore, y/n.” Theo’s shoulders roll as he grows slightly defensive.

“I mean, you’re really nice to him. Even when you punch him the face.” You let out a soft chuckle, remembering the two of them beating each other up. “And, uh, heard about you showing up at school when he went after Gabe for shooting up my house.”

“You know about that?”

“Yep.” You nod, looking to the floor as you chew on your lip. “So, ya know, why are you doing that?”

Theo sighs as a hand runs through his hair. “You’re not gonna believe me so I should I bother?”

Your eyes roll as you readjust yourself. “I might. But you have to tell me first.”

“Really? Now you're gonna start believing me?” He eyes you with suspicion.

“I didn’t say that. It’s just, maybe I’ll believe this. I believed you two weeks ago when you said you didn’t know if you’d have used me had you known anything. Because that was believable. And, as much as I really want to hate you, you were there at the hospital and you didn’t have to be and you shielded me from bullets so I kind of owe you, to hear you out some more.” You gesture out to him as you purse your lips.

“Alright.” Theo shrugs one shoulder. “Because I see myself in him and had someone been there to tell me, told that what the Dread Doctors were telling me was wrong, or if I just had someone looking out for me, maybe I wouldn’t have been that guy. So, while Scott is trying to take care of this stuff, I’m making sure Liam doesn’t make any mistakes.”

Had Theo told you that weeks ago, you never would have believed him. Theo? Looking out for someone other than himself? Never. But, you saw him do it first hand. You saw him making sure Liam didn’t kill Nolan. You saw him let Nolan go when Theo could have knocked him out, too and kidnapped him, brought him back to Scott. But he didn’t. He let Nolan run and you two took Liam back to the car. He made sure Liam didn’t kill Gabe despite Gabe really needing his ass kicked for shooting up your house, landing your mom and friends in the hospital. But he didn’t. Theo didn’t have to come to the hospital with you, or stay. And yet, he did. He made sure you had what you needed when you went home. He even made sure Scott was okay and Scott thanked him. Theo made sure Malia was fine and he didn’t have to. He’s doing things that he doesn’t have to, things that wouldn’t even benefit him. You want to say he hasn’t changed but he’s really showing that he has.

The corner of your mouth tugs into the softest smile. “That’s believable.” You admit.

“Yeah?” Theo’s face slightly relaxes.

“Yeah.” You nod. “I can see it.”

“Thanks.” Theo’s soft voice barely hits your ears as your phone vibrates in your pocket.

“Don’t mention it.” You say as you look down to your phone and see it’s a text from Liam. Your brows furrow as you look up to Theo. “Uh, so, I guess Nolan switched sides.”

“What?” Theo walks over you and takes your hand in his to check your phone. “So, Liam is at the hospital because Nolan clued him on a trap? This kid is so damn stupid.” Theo rolls his eyes, releasing your hand.

“We’re gonna go save his ass. Ya know, he could have told us before he went. Werewolf, walking into a trap. He is definitely Scott’s beta.” You roll your eyes with annoyance as you hop off the table, grabbing your bow.

The two of you reach the hospital and everything, even on the way there, seemed way too still even for the small town. Eeriness filled the air and without heightened senses, it was more than obvious that a war was starting. This was going to be like nothing you'd been through before. Everything you experienced was going to seem like child’s play compared to this. To say you were nervous, would be the understatement of a century.

“Just stay behind me and-” Theo starts as you enter the building. You look up to him, clearly not having his shit. “If you die, I’m gonna be pissed and Scott’ll kill me.”

You scoff and pull an arrow from your the casing on your back. “I’ll stay behind you but only because you’ll block the guns while I start shooting.”

“That works, too.” Theo shrugs, giving you a nervous grin.

On the first floor, there was nothing so you entered the elevator, preparing to meet Liam on the second floor. Your palms started to sweat with anxiety as your grip tightened on your bow, your hand holding the arrow in place, ready to pull it up and release it at anyone firing.

“It’ll be fine.” Theo reassure, looking back to you as you stood behind him.

“Yeah, we can hope.” You sigh.

Before Theo could say anything else, the elevator dinged and doors opened just as a rain of gunfire started entering the elevator. You dodged to the side as Theo went forward and pulled Liam inside the elevator, you pressing the button to close the door the second Theo grabbed him.

“What are you guys doing here?” Liam asks, facing you and Theo as the two of you leaned against the same wall.

“You texted me you were here and the plan was that we were supposed to be together.”

“Right.” Liam says, looking to the door. "I meant for you guys to stay there."

“How many are there?” You ask, brushing off the last part of his sentence.

“At least five walked out but there has to be more of them around the floor.”

“Well, what do you want to do? You came up with the last plan.” Theo starts, staring at Liam as he pushes against the wall to step forward. “We could leave or find another way.”

“I’m not going down without a fight.” Liam states quickly, looking between you and Theo. “Look, I’m not dying for you.” Liam says, his eyes now locked with Theo’s. “I’ll die for y/n, but not you.”

“That’s fine.” Theo scoffs. “I’m not dying for you either, but I’ll die for y/n if that’s what we’re doing.”

“Uh, yeah.” You push against the wall to stand between the boys. “Dying isn’t on my agenda and watching the two of you die isn’t on my agenda either. So, how about we have a plan that doesn’t start with talking about any of us dying?”

The boys look down to you and back to each other, as if exchanging the same thought. “I’ll fight with you.” Liam states with a nod.

“Let’s fight.” Theo smirks, pushing you behind him and you press the botton for the doors to open.

Once the doors open, gunfire starts up again and the boys shift, growling as they run out of the elevator. Once they’re out, you take your turn to step out and shoot an arrow at a guy, successfully sending an arrow straight through his throat before he could shoot Theo or Liam. You pulled another arrow and set it up, sending it through another hunter’s shoulder just as Theo and Liam knocked two other hunters out cold, leaving you walking a few feet behind them as three hunters came from around a corner behind you. That’s when your mom and Nolan came out from a separate hallway and tased them, knocking them out and sending them to the floor.

“Mom?” You a cock a brow, lowing your bow as you turned to face her.

“What are you doing here?” She almost yells but a smile is resting on herself, proud she took down a hunter.

“Helping?” You shrug but your mom’s eyes grow wide as you turn to face Theo and Liam. “Move!” You scream as Gabe holds up an assault rifle, reading to murder all of you.

You and your mom dodge behind a cart with Nolan, you not wanting to even attempt to send an arrow at Gabe, not ready to actually kill a teenager. Theo and Liam ran and made it behind a cart on the opposite side of the hallway, Theo’s arm bleeding from the grazing of a bullet.

“Now what?” You ask, sitting between Nolan and your mom as Gabe’s aim starts getting better, hitting the carts directly in front of you.

“Got it.” Liam says before running up to Gabe as Theo tried to grab him to keep him from going.

Nolan looks to you and your mom with questioning eyes as he jerks his head to another hunter off to the side and a fire extinguisher behind him. Your mom nods her head, giving Nolan the okay.

“I’ll cover you, go.” You say as you kneel, pulling up your bow and placing an arrow.

As Nolan runs to the other hunter, you keep your eyes on the other hunter, making sure he didn’t notice Nolan or start shooting at Liam. That’s when you noticed he was talking into a walkie-talkie. He looked uneasy, as if asking permission to do something and not quite liking the answer. But, he started to put the walkie-talkie down and you realized he was going to start firing, even if it meant Gabe getting caught in the crossfire.

“Liam! Get down!” You scream.

You aimed but missed as the hunter started shooting, just as Liam was getting away from Gabe. Multiple bullets penetrated Gabe’s torso before Nolan hit the hunter with the fire extinguisher, you pulling another arrow just as the hunter hit the floor.

With the falling of Gabe, you stood with your mom, Theo getting to his feet with two of you. He was the last hunter standing and now he was bleeding out, nothing any of you could do to prevent his impending death.

Gabe pulled himself across the floor, leaving a trail of blood as he cried that it hurt. You felt your eyes burn as you watched him. He was just a kid. He was a kid manipulated into thinking this was right and no one gave a shit about him, not one. Instead, they used him to their own advantage. People always say the world isn't fair, but this, this wasn't even human.

You, your mom, and Theo walked in front of the carts, meeting with Liam and Nolan but Theo didn't stop. He kept walking as Gabe propped himself against the clear cabinets holding medical supplies. Liam stood beside you as all of you watched Theo kneel in front of Gabe, taking his arm into his hands.

Theo’s veins turned black with Gabe’s. The time you were with Theo, the old Theo, he never tried taking pain from anyone. He never cared enough to try. Deep down, you knew he was incapable of taking it. He wasn't human enough to do it. But, now, he's in front of you taking the pain of a teenager that just tried to kill him.

“Does it still hurt?” Theo asks.

“No.” Gabe mumbles with blood dripping from his mouth and nose; his eyes watering as he meets Theo’s gaze.

“Good.” Theo says.

All of you stay silent as your mom rests a hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. Theo doesn’t release Gabe’s arm until his heart stops beating and their veins turn back to normal. You found yourself wiping a tear that had slipped with the sleeve of your jacket. It was an emotional rollercoaster and what you just witnessed, pushed you over the edge. It broke your heart and warmed it at the same time. You wish you’d have not missed your shot at the hunter so Gabe would be alive but you knew, in that moment of Theo taking Gabe’s pain, that Theo was different. He held humanity. He wanted to change, he wanted to be different. And you were in love with him, no more denying it. You were and it was okay that you were.

A week passed since the war and everything seemed to be falling back in place in Beacon Hills, so much so that your bags were packed and Scott was loading them into your car.

“You don’t have to go.” Scott says, shutting your trunk.

“Yeah, I do.” You nod. “This isn’t my place anymore, it’s yours.” You give him a shoulder shove as you walk to the driver’s side of your car. “This is your place, Scott. I’m needed in the midwest. But, you call me next time and I’ll be right beside you.” You give him a bittersweet smile as he wraps his arms around you, giving you a hug.

“Call when you get there.” He says as he pulls away.

“You got it.” You nod and get into the car, your goodbyes already had with your mom.

You pull away from your childhood home but before you could get onto the highway to go back to your home, you had one stop you had to make. You headed to the sheriff’s station where Theo was standing beside his truck, the sheriff handing him his keys. You pulled your car two spots away from the truck before getting out.

“Hey, Sheriff.” You nod with a soft smile.

“Heading back?” He asks.

“Yeah,” You sigh.

“Keep in touch.” He nods, giving you a soft hug before turning to give Theo a soft nod and walking towards the entrance of the station.

“Y/n.” Theo says, his keys being swung around his finger.

“Where ya headed, Raeken?” You inquire, stepping closer to him.

“Not sure.” Theo scoffs.

“Sure, you have an idea. You always a have a plan.” You smirk.

Theo lets out a soft sigh as his face relaxes with content. “Yeah, usually.” He looks to the ground before shrugging and looking back to you. “This is the first time since I was nine that I feel like I’m not in some nightmare. I’m just gonna get out of here, ya know?”

“Well,” You bite your lip. “I’ve got an extra room at my place? If you don’t mind the snow part of the year?” You offer, the smirk not leaving your face.

“You serious?” Theo’s brows raise with the random offer.

“You’re not who you were last year.” You shake your head, holding a steady voice. “You’re better. I like this Theo. I really like this Theo and we didn’t get to finish what we started before so-” You take a deep breath as you start to ramble with nerves. “If you’re willing, I’d love to have you and we can see where things go if you’re okay with that. Maybe my bitchiness got to you and you don’t want to or whatever, but I’m offering. I’m offering because I’m a McCall and I forgive and I give out second chances and you deserve another one. With me. If you’ll have me.” You finally stop rambling and Theo pushes himself forward, his hands cupping your face.

“I can get used to the snow.” He whispers with a smirk before placing his lips on yours, a soft whimper leaves your mouth with the connection you’ve missed.

You giggle as you pull away. “Come on, then. Burning daylight.” Theo’s forehead rests against yours with the words, before you kiss him sweetly and pull away.

The two of you get into your vehicles, Theo following you out of the parking lot, ready to restart his life with you across the country.

If you want to be added to my tag list, just send me a message :) Tag list: @theofuckingraeken @huntress1428 @catching-fire-in-the-wind @elko10 @imjustakilljoybaby @kingduvhon

#theo x reader #theo raeken #theo raeken imagine #theo raeken x reader #theo imagine #cody christian #lover's redemption #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #imagine #imagines

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swanqueeneverafter · 6 years

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28. Shadows of the Past, Pt.1

Neverland. Present. (David, Emma, Regina, Hook and Mary Margaret trudge through the woods searching for Henry walking single file. Mary Margaret leads the way.) David: (Panting:) “Hey, need a break?” Mary Margaret: “No, I'm good.” David: “In this heat, you shouldn't overtax yourself.” Mary Margaret: “Oh, so you need a break.” David: “No, I'm good.” Mary Margaret: (Teasing:) “David Nolan let himself go.” David: (Laughs:) “Does it look like he let himself go?” Regina: (Looking around, annoyed:) “How much further?” Emma: (Taking a look on the map:) “We should be getting close to Pan's lair. (They are catching up with David and Mary Margaret:) Going in a straight line course... (Looking on the map and frowning:) Son of a bitch! How is it now behind us?” Mary Margaret: “How can that be?” Regina: “You got us lost.” Hook: (Holding a lamp:) “No, she didn't. It's the camp. Pan's moving it.” David: “He's playing tricks with us.” Emma: “If Pan's camp keeps moving how are we ever gonna find Henry?” Neverland. Present. (Henry sleeps under a tree. Someone cuckoos from behind.) Peter Pan: “Wake up. Catch.” (He throws an apple towards Henry.) Henry: (Sitting up:) “I don't like apples.” Peter Pan: “Who doesn't like apples?” Henry: “It's a self-preservation thing.” Peter Pan: (Smiles:) “Well, don't worry. (He crouches down to the same eye level as Henry:) They're not for eating. It's for a kind of game. A really fun game. (Aiming a cross bow at Henry:) I call it target practice.”

The Enchanted Forest. Present. The Dark Castle. (Neal is looking for something in a wardrobe. Robin Hood and Mulan are watching him.) Mulan: “You found the crystal ball. What else are you looking for?” Neal: “It showed me where Emma is, now I have to get to her.” Robin Hood: “Um, not sure you can find a horse in there, mate.” Neal: “I don't need a horse. I need a portal. A way to create a portal.” Robin Hood: “Why don't you calm down and tell me what the problem is? Perhaps I can assist.” Neal: “Henry is trapped in Neverland with Peter Pan who's hands-down the nastiest person I've ever met.” Mulan: “I saw Emma in this ball, not Henry.” Neal: “Listen, I was in Neverland. Pan was looking for a boy. A specific boy. I know he had some picture of him on a scroll. He called him the truest believer.” Mulan: “And you believe that to be Henry?” Neal: “It has to be. That's the only reason Emma would be in Neverland. Help me look. Lots of things make portals. Beans. Magic mirrors. Ruby slippers. Some kind of ashes.” (Startled by the noise, Little John and two Merry Men enter the room.) Little John: “What the hell was that?” Robin Hood: “Stand down, Little John. We're fine.” (From behind, a young boy watches the proceedings with curiosity and approaches Robin Hood. Robin Hood scoops the boy up.) Neal: (Smiles:) “Who's this?” Robin Hood: “Merry Men come in all sizes. This is my son, Roland.” (Something dawns on Neal.) Neal: “I know how to get to Neverland. I know how to get to Henry.” Neverland. Present. Emma: “So, this whole trek has been for nothing?” Regina: “I told you walking was idiotic. If I can just use some magic, we can materialize in the camp and grab Henry.” Mary Margaret: “We don't know where the camp is. Have you even been listening?” Hook: “Pan will have shields against magic, I fear. Such an attempt would end in your death, and more importantly, mine, which is why we're walking.” Regina: “Well then, what's your idea? How are we going to find it?” Hook: “By using someone he trusts.” David: “Who? Because I guess he certainly doesn't trust you.” Hook: “A fairy who lived here when I was about. She might still be on the island. She'd be an inside source, knows all about the camp, can get us in. She might even have some pixie dust left. Perhaps we could fly in.” Emma: “You mean fairy dust.” David: “No, pixie dust. It’s stronger. Like nuclear fairy dust.” Emma: “Wait. A fairy? Tinker Bell?” Hook: “Do you know her?” Emma: “Every kid in the world knows her.” Regina: “That's a bad idea. (Emma looks at her curiously:) Mark my words. This Tinker Bell is not going to help us.”

The Enchanted Forest. Past. The Evil Queen's Palace. (Regina eats her supper, alone. Magically, Rumplestiltskin appears, sitting opposite to Regina at the far side of the table.) Rumplestiltskin: “I thought you were dead.” Regina: (She flinches slightly:) “Go away.” Rumplestiltskin: (Continues:) “When you didn't show up for your lessons today, I assumed you went toes up. And yet, here you are. (Standing up, he takes a closer look at the food on the table:) Roast swan. (Giggles:) That's amusing. (Regina looks confused, but he makes a dismissive gesture:) You'll get that later.” Regina: “I'm not sure about these lessons anymore. I don't want to have a future that looks like—” Rumplestiltskin: “Like what?” Regina: “Like you.” Rumplestiltskin: “Feeling a little persecuted, are we, Your Majesty?” Regina: “Why shouldn’t I? I’m the Queen, but practically a prisoner. With a husband whose heart is still with his dead wife and his insipid daughter. It’s intolerable. Nothing to do and nowhere to go. (Sighs:) I need freedom. I need options.” (Stands up.) Rumplestiltskin: “Ah, can’t be done. You see, this is how it is. You think you’re the diner at the feast, tasting the offerings. A little love. A little darkness. What you don’t realize is, you are the feast. And the darkness has tasted you.” Regina: “You're vile. Leave my home.” Rumplestiltskin: “The darkness likes how you taste, dearie. It doesn’t mind the bitter. And now that it started the meal it’s gonna finish it. You can no more fly from your fate that can that (He gestures towards a roasted swan he noticed earlier standing on the table:) swan. See you tomorrow. Don’t be late. Oh, and bring that simmering rage. It’s all you have.” (He leaves.) (Alone, Regina walks through her room and stops to look down into the castle’s courtyard.) Regina: (Forcefully slamming her hands against the parapet:) “I just need- (Suddenly, the parapet breaks and Regina loses her balance. Screaming, she falls towards the ground. A cloud of green fairy dust appears underneath Regina and her fall comes to a halt:) Put me down. What are you doing?” Tinker Bell: “Giving you a second chance.” (Using her wand, she lifts Regina up again.) Regina: “Who are you?” Tinker Bell: “I'm Tinker Bell.”

The Enchanted Forest. Past. Tavern. (Tinker Bell and Regina share a drink at a table.) Tinker Bell: “Snow White, that’s her name? Even I think that’s a bit precious and mine’s Tinker Bell.” Regina: “She’s a monster. Totally indulged and adored. She sort of ricochets through life telling people’s secrets. She had my fiancé killed.” Tinker Bell: (Shocked:) “No.” Regina: “The only way I can get through it is when she and the king are gone all the time.” Tinker Bell: “You're glad your husband is gone?” Regina: “It’s not a marriage. It’s a farce. I may be the queen. (Leaning closer:) But alone in this palace I feel like the queen of nothing.” Tinker Bell: “No wonder you jumped.” Regina: “I didn’t jump. I fell.” Tinker Bell: “Right, (Clears throat:) you fell.” Regina: “I did. But if I had... well, here's to good reasons.” (They clink cups.) Tinker Bell: “You know, I’ve got an idea. I can help people find what they need, Regina.” Regina: “And what do I need?” Tinker Bell: “You don’t even know? That’s so sad. Regina, love. You need love.” Regina: “You’re gonna help me find another soul mate?” Tinker Bell: “It is possible to find love again. I’ve never seen pixie dust fail. It will find you your perfect match. If you let it, you’ll find your happy ending.” Regina: “My happy ending looks like Snow’s head on a plate.” Tinker Bell: “No. Aren’t you at least curious? What, if I can do what I say?” Regina: (Doubtful:) “Well, then, I’d say that’ll be real magic.” Tinker Bell: “I'm a fairy. You might wanna try believing in me.” Neverland. Present. (Sweating, Regina dabs her forehead using a small cloth. As she stuffs it into her pocket, it falls to the ground without her notice. Regina walks on. Hidden in the bushes, Tinker Bell comes out briefly to pick up the cloth. Catching up with the rest of the group, Regina approaches Emma.) Regina: “Emma. There is another way.” Emma: “Is there?” Regina: “Magic.” Emma: “Didn’t we just go through this?” Regina: “I’m not talking about my magic. I’m talking about our magic.” Emma: “I cannot take that risk. One thing I’ve learned is, it always comes with a price.” Regina: “May I remind you that the one time you actually used magic, you saved Storybrooke. (As Emma starts to protests:) Sometimes not using it comes with a price too. I bet you and I combined are strong enough to overpower Pan.” Emma: “And what if we’re not? Pan’s trigger almost destroyed Storybrooke, now we’re in his realm, Regina. Who knows what other kinds of tricks, charms or... hexes he’s got up his sleeve. I’m not taking a chance on that. We’re talking about Henry’s life.” Regina: “I’m aware of that.” (Mary Margaret walks over to join them.) Emma: “Look, I know you don’t like this plan. Let’s just see it through. At least, we can see if we find... Tinker Bell.” Regina: “And you think it’s the best plan because your boyfriend came up with it?” Emma: “My boyfriend? Hook? What’s your problem?” Mary Margaret: “She just lost Neal.” (Regina glares at Snow, Emma winces at her mother’s interference.) Regina: (Biting back her retort:) “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about Henry.”

Neverland. Pan’s Camp. (Pan souses an arrow into a bottle. Henry joins him.) Henry: “What’s that?” Peter Pan: “Dreamshade. It’s a nasty poison. We have a story here about a man who once shot an apple off his son’s head with an arrow. (Preparing the crossbow for shooting:) Let’s find out if this is possible.” Henry: “If you’re shooting the apple what’s the poison for?” Peter Pan: “Motivation not to miss. (Playfully, he aims with the crossbow.) Felix! Get over here!” Henry: (Voice cracks:) “Is... is Felix good? Is his aim good?” Peter Pan: “Doesn’t matter. You’re the one doing the shooting.” (Hands Henry the crossbow.) Henry: “But I-I don’t want to shoot.” Lost Boys: (Chanting:) “Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.” Peter Pan: “You won’t hit him. Trust yourself. Go on. (Felix places an apple on his head:) It’s exhilarating.” Lost Boys: (Chanting:) “Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.” (Finally Henry aims at the apple. Suddenly he changes his target, loosing the arrow at Peter Pan. Peter Pan catches the arrow midair.) Peter Pan: “Told you it was exhilarating. Come on, I have something to show you.” Neverland. Present. (The group continues on their way searching for Pan. Hook stops David in order to talk to him.) Hook: “So, you gonna tell her?” David: “Tell her what?” Hook: “I saw what happened to you, mate. Let me see.” (Looking around, David lifts his shirt a little. Black veins spread all around the cut.) David: “The arrow only nicked me.” Hook: “I’m sorry, mate.” David: “Do you know how long?” Hook: “Days. Weeks at most. You won’t see summer. It's a really bad break. You might want to tell her.” David: “No. “ Hook: “Well, you have to.” David: “Maybe I don’t.” Hook: “How’s that?” David: “Pixie dust. You believe in this Tinker Bell's power? In her pixie dust?” Hook: “Indeed, I do.” David: “Then let’s get to her and that dust.” The Enchanted Forest. Past. (Regina and Tinker Bell are leaving the tavern.) Regina: “You really think this will make me happy?” Tinker Bell: “I know it will. (Church bells ring:) I'm late. I have to go. See you soon.” (Spreading out her wings, Tinker Bell waves her wand and returns to her smaller form. Regina Looks up as Tinker Bell flies away.) The Enchanted Forest. Past. The Refuge Of The Fairies. (Tinker Bell enters. She carefully approaches a green blossom. The blossom opens and reveals the Blue Fairy inside.) Blue Fairy: “Good evening, Green.” Tinker Bell: “Hey Blue. You look amazing. Did you do something to your—” Blue Fairy: (Interrupting Tinker Bell:) “You're late. You’ve already broken every rule in the book. Curfew. Dust discipline. And you got big for no reason.” Tinker Bell: “Listen. I have news. Amazing news. I was helping someone. A queen in the Enchanted Forest. Regina.” Blue Fairy: “Do you know who she is? Her mother was Cora. The one who ripped out hearts. Her teacher is the Dark One.” Tinker Bell: “So?” Blue Fairy: “So consider yourself lucky you’re still alive. (Sighs:) Green, this is not a woman you can help. She is surrounded by darkness.” Tinker Bell: “Sounds to me like she’s exactly someone who could use help. Maybe if you let me have some pixie dust.” Blue Fairy: “Not a chance. You fly away from this one, Green.” Tinker Bell: “My name isn’t Green. It's Tinker Bell. And I can’t believe you want me to ignore someone who needs help. It’s not very fairy-like.” Blue Fairy: (Angry:) “I will be the judge of what is fairy-like.” Tinker Bell: “But I-” Blue Fairy: “No discussion. Until further notice you are to remain here and continue your training under my direct supervision. Understood?” Tinker Bell: “Yes, Blue.” (The Blue Fairy exits. After a moment, Tinker Bell sneaks a look around, making sure no one can see her, and flies off again.)

The Enchanted Forest. Present. Dark Castle. (Neal and Robin Hood discuss Neal’s plan.) Robin Hood: (Worried:) “Are you out of your mind? He’s four years old.” Neal: “The shadow won’t touch him, I promise.” Robin Hood: “How do you know that?” Neal: “Because I’ve done that before. It was what took me to Neverland as a kid. All Roland has to do is summon it. That’s it. I’ll take it from there. I’ll be the one going to Neverland. Not him.” Robin Hood: (Worried:) “So, at best, my toddler is bait. At worst something goes wrong and a demonic shadow carries him through a portal to the nastiest person you’ve ever met.” Neal: “Look, Robin. I have to get there.” Robin Hood: (Sighs:) “I lost my wife a while back. Before that we almost didn’t have Roland. She was so sick. Now, she’s gone. He’s all I have. I can’t lose him.” Neal: “So you know how I feel. I need my boy. And Emma. They’re all I have.” Robin Hood: (Angry:) “So, because I know what it is to value family, I should risk mine?” Neal: “When she was sick, your wife, how did she live so that she could have your boy?” Robin Hood: “You know how.” Neal: “My father. He saved her. And your son.” Robin Hood: (Visible feeling uneasy:) “Ah. (Turning away:) Right. (Facing Neal again:) Once. He stands at the window. He calls out once. That doesn’t take, that’s it. No second chance.” Neal: “You've got to understand this is my second chance.” Neverland. Present. (The group travel on endlessly through the forest. Hook, David & Mary Margaret heading up the group, Regina and Emma bringing up the rear. Regina stops and decides to wait behind.) Emma: “Hey.” Regina: (Shrugs:) “Hey.” Emma: “You’re falling behind. Hook thinks her place is right up ahead. Come on.” Regina: “Well, if she still lives there. You go waste your time searching, and I’ll wait.” Emma: (Frowns, walks back:) “What did you do to her?” Regina: “What? Why would you assume I did something?” Emma: “You’ve met her before, right? In the Enchanted Forest? What did you do? Kill her brother? Steal her halo?” Regina: “She’s not an angel. Okay, we have a complicated history.” Emma: “I knew it.” Regina: “You don’t need to know all the details. But if she sees me she won’t help. And if she’s the way in, well then, trust me, my staying out of her sight is probably best for Operation Henry.” (Takes a seat on a log.)

Emma: “Operation Henry?” Regina: “That’s what I’ve been calling it in my head because-” Emma: “He’d call it that.” Regina: “He’d have a better name. But, it’s the best I can do.” Emma: (Sighs:) “I’m sorry about before. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re not just as worried about Henry as I am. It’s just that-” Regina: “Magic is new to you. I get it. But it’s frustrating not being able to do anything worthwhile to save Henry. Having to rely on that damned pirate isn’t helping either. Why is he helping us at all? What’s in it for him?” Emma: “He knows Neverland. That’s the only reason we’re listening to him right now. (Shrugs:) I think he feels he owes Neal something. Apparently they were close a long time ago.” Regina: (Looking away:) “Something you both share.” Emma: “Hey. (Regina looks up at her:) Don’t worry about what Mary Margaret said. Yes, I’m sad about Neal’s death but that’s more about Henry than me. He just got to know his dad and then he’s gone.” Regina: “But not before his fiancee abducted Henry.” Emma: (Sensing Regina just wants to argue:) “Okay. We’ll get Tinker Bell and I’ll come get you.” Regina: “No, don’t bother. It’s better if we never see one another. And if you don’t find her, keep going. Just get Henry. Don't worry about Tinker Bell.” Emma: “What the hell did you do to her?” Regina: (Sighs and slightly shakes her head:) “What I always do.” (Emma hesitates, then walks away.)

#sq #swanqueen #Swan Queen

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davidmann95 · 7 years

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Since you've listed the preferences of the Superman actors, and also have done a FrankenBatman, can you do a similar worst to best list of the Batman actors in your opinion?

Skipping over Lewis Wilson and Robert Lowrey, as I haven’t seen the Batman film serials:

9. Dick Gautier

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Adam West’s fill-in for a 1974 Equal Pay PSA, his impression is far from up to snuff, with not an iota of West’s hilariously sincere conviction.

8. Val Kilmer

I’m what might be called a Batman Forever apologist - as opposed to Batman and Robin, which requires no apologies - but Val Kilmer’s flat, passionless performance is certainly not one of the aspects I would leap to the defense of. I suppose he deserves some credit for being the last to wear an acceptable big-screen Batman costume for 21 years, but bleak as 1995-2016 was in that regard, no cowl is enough to cover up that he just wasn’t a very good Batman.

7. Bruce Thomas

The Onstar Batman may not have had a chance to make much of an impression in his 6 commercials - nor did he give any kind of impression that there was some kind of grand take on the character just waiting to show itself - but he did pretty well with what time he had, with some decent comic timing and a straight-faced attitude to fighting the Joker, Penguin, and Riddler that managed the tricky balancing act of showing a serious version of Batman who regardless still clearly enjoyed his job.

6. Michael Keaton

I’m not totally certain I ever fully bought Keaton as Batman - his greatest performance in superhero movies wouldn’t come until, of all things, his time as the Vulture in Spider-Man: Homecoming - but I still most certainly bought him as an unhinged trust fund millionaire who would beat the snot out of sword-wielding street punks and a sewer-dwelling Danny DeVito, and that goes a long way. Plus he casually backhanded that one guy so fantastically it’s been a cultural shorthand for how awesome Batman is ever since.

5. George Clooney

While he delivered maybe the 5th-best performance of the thoroughly amazing Batman and Robin, it was regardless a seriously underrated one. His Batman may not have quite found the line overall between serious and camp it seemed to be aiming for, but he still had a number of great individual moments under the cowl, he was a smooth as hell Bruce Wayne, and his work bouncing off Michael Gough’s Alfred and Chris O’Donnell as Robin was A+ all the way. If nothing else, his delivery of “She wants to kill you, Dick” was Oscar-worthy.

4. David Mazouz

From what fairly little I’ve seen, Gotham is an utterly bonkers and entertaining Batman show at its heart, but one utterly and irrevocably crippled by a delusional self-image of actually being about Jim Gordon and generic cop show bullshit, rather than baby Batman hanging out with baby Catwoman under the world’s crankiest babysitter in Alfred as supervillains ham it up at each other. Insomuch as there’s a soul to the thing though, it has to be Mazouz, who pulls off a solid performance of a Bruce Wayne who deep down is already very much Batman, but in spite of his willpower and conviction simply doesn’t yet have the skill, maturity or perspective as to how to apply himself yet, with all the frustration that brings as he figures it out a bit at a time. Seeing him confront his parents’ killer or hold strong in the face of Cameron Monaghan’s proto-Joker, it’s honestly difficult to believe he’s even operating in the same genre as most of his co-stars, much less the same actual program.

3. Ben Affleck

Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice has a boatload of sins to be held accountable for, but the casting of Affleck as the caped crusader to fill Bale’s considerable shoes was not one of them. His Bruce Wayne is simultaneously genuinely charming while having *just* enough of an air of sleaze that he’d be believably overlooked, while his Batman…well, feels like Batman in a way no one else has quite matched, with the kind of visceral, focused intensity and righteous hate you’d expect from a guy who’s spent almost of a quarter of a century trying to fist-fight crime into submission, with an entire unseen history of allies lost and ground wars against brilliant, sociopathic crimelord-artists, while still showing the kind of sympathy in his rescue of Martha Kent and encounter with Deadshot in Suicide Squad to make clear there’s a soul underneath. While he hasn’t gotten a proper opportunity to strut his stuff yet - even the most generous interpretations of this version up to this point hold that he was *intentionally* being written entirely out of his character in his debut - if Matt Reeves and Chris Terrio bring it for The Batman, I could absolutely see him topping this list down the line (especially if they don’t try and fix what’s broken with that suit, the first palatable modern take on his uniform that only makes him look all the more like he stepped off the page).

2. Christian Bale

If Christian Bale committed a single sin in his tenure as Batman, it was that when he screamed “SWEAR TO ME!!!!!!” in that one crooked cops’ face before dropping him 10 stories, stopping him right above the ground, and then having him fall on his face, he was fully conscious that it was the hypest shit of all time, and mistakenly believed his Batman voice should be at that level of intensity all the time rather than the lighter degree of raspiness he went with in Begins. The voice aside though - I think it largely worked given it was meant to scare the shit out of muggers, though I’ll admit it really did get to be a bit much in Rises - he was tremendously better as both Bruce Wayne and especially Batman than he was ever really given credit for at the time. It’s not entirely surprising; he was surrounded by bold, charismatic figures being pushed to their limits and capital-A Acting, while the very nature of what he was doing meant keeping it a bit more emotionally reserved. But his Bruce Wayne was almost immaculate in his grand douchebaggery, his sparring with Alfred gave us some of those characters’ best scenes in their almost 75 year relationship, and his Batman was haunting, enraged, and unstoppable. I suspect he could have been pushed a bit farther though; while I entirely disagree with the notion of Christopher Nolan’s films being cold and emotionless, I feel like a lot of the time he was played a note or two low in terms of intensity when taking it further could have made him stand out much more, and made clearer his actions under the cowl were as much an extension of his personal rage as an act to frighten the superstitious and cowardly. Regardless, he can absolutely hold his head high as the definitive modern interpretation of the character to the world at large.

1. Adam West

With every Batman up above, there’s always at least one ‘but’. They were great except; he’d be perfect if not; so on and so forth. That is not the case with Adam West. The superheroes’ superhero, he was the ultimate straight man to a world of camp madness, whether refusing to throw a bomb in a lake when it’d endanger a group of ducklings, making leaps of deduction that held more in common with dadaist poetry than criminal psychology with a 100% success rate, or somehow summoning up the willpower to not stop Batmaning to go run off into the sunset with Julie Newmar’s impossibly gorgeous Catwoman. The epitome of Batman as father-figure, dedicated keeper of public order, and crimefighting savant - as well as a damn smooth Bruce Wayne - he leapt off the pages of the New Look-era titles and defined a platonic ideal of decent-hearted superheroism that carries weight to this day. More than any to succeed him to date, he was a perfect, hilarious embodiment of his time’s vision of Batman, taking it to a level that can truly be said to have redefined the character to an extent no one else to wear the cape has come close to matching.

#Batman #Batman '66 #The Dark Knight #DCEU #Adam West #Christian Bale #Ben Affleck #David Mazouz #George Clooney #Michael Keaton #Bruce Thomas #Val Kilmer #Dick Gautier #Opinion

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