whimsicallyenchantedrose

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x19 A Curious Thing

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 712

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26 @bethacaciakay @ultraluckycatnd @effulgent-mind @ilovemesomekillianjoness @kat2609 @brooke-to-broch @missgymgirl @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @daxx04 @nickillian  @gillie  @britishguyslover @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst @kmomof4 @linda8084 @golfgirld @captain-swan-coffee @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious @laughswaytoomuch  @allyourdarlingswans  @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82 @therooksshiningknight @lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree @jrob64  @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @i-will-sing-no-requiem @bluewildcatfanatic @laianely

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21)

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Killian’s heart rate gradually returned to normal as the adrenaline faded, but with it, his hope faded as well.

This whole situation had completely spiraled out of control.  He’d tried so hard, so bloody hard, to do what was best–to protect the lad, to save Swan’s magic, to keep the Charmings and everyone else Swan loved safe.  The damned witch had left him with no options.

He couldn’t kiss her.  That much was clear.  There was no possibility in any realm he would willingly take away her magic.

He also couldn’t not kiss her, or he placed her lad in danger.

He also couldn’t tell her what had happened for fear word would get back to Zelena and she’d exact retribution.

The only thing he could think to do was to get the lad away from the witch’s purview, and even that had gone spectacularly pear-shaped.

He was quite fortunate Swan, the queen and the Charmings had shown up to the boathouse when they had when he’d run out of ammunition or…well the alternative didn’t bear contemplation.

But then Zelena herself had shown up spinning her lies and perfidious insinuations about him.

“Don’t blame me.  The captain failed me.  He knew what the price of failure was–your son’s life.”

Killian’s heart plummeted as he looked into Swan’s eyes once the witch was stopped and the curse was broken.  Her eyes were filled with anger and suspicion.

“Are you gonna tell me what Zelena was talking about?” she asked in a voice as hard as steel “She said you failed her.”

“Don’t listen to her!” he said, hearing the pleading sound of his voice.

“Killian, what’s going on?” she asked, arms crossed. “Were you working for her?”

Killian’s heart plummeted even further.  Had she no faith in him at all?  Had he not proven, at least to some extent, that her welfare and that of her family were his priority?  How could she even ask such a thing?

“The witch tried to back me into a corner,” he said, desperate for her to see his sincerity, desperate for her to see the hopelessness of his situation. “I did everything I could to try to resist her plans.”

“So whose idea was it to kidnap Henry and stick him on a boat?” she demanded.

He closed his eyes, deflating.  He was mucking this up royally.  “It was mine. I was trying to save him.”

“From what?” she continued, “What is she doing?”

There was nothing for it.  It was time to spill the whole sordid tale. “She cursed me. My lips actually.”

Her brows furled. “Your lips? Why?”

Did she really not know?  Did she really not see it? “Because she wants to steal your magic.  She thought I was the best way of doing that. She knows what we all know-that you can defeat her.”

For a split second he saw something that might have been pride or gratitude in her eye, but then the anger took over again. “It should have been my decision to protect Henry. Whether she forced your hand or not doesn’t matter!  I can’t trust you now.  How can I?”

It struck him to the very heart, her anger, her accusations, her lack of trust.  What could he have done? What could he have bloody done?  He’d been like a caged animal with no way out.

And as the scene continued to play out–as her parents looked on him with suspicion as well, accusing him of lying about how he’d obtained the potion, it suddenly became blindingly clear to him.

They’d never see him as a hero.  He could never escape his past.  A part of him–the part that had dealt with his grief over Liam’s death by becoming the most vicious and merciless pirate on the seven seas–was tempted to throw it all away and embrace his fate as a villain yet again.

But he’d tried that in the lost year.  He’d tried it and he’d found that she’d changed him irreversibly.  No, that wasn’t precisely accurate.  She’d inspired him to change himself irreversibly.  He was no longer the villain Captain Hook.

He was Killian Jones, and he’d never abandon her, never abandon her family.

Even if they never saw him as anything more than a pirate.

Note: I'm sorry. This scene always absolutely INFURIATED me, and if I have to suffer, so do you. I will however leave you with the following Gif because 1. I think this is what we ALL want to say to Zelena and 2. Killian with that intensity and anger saying "Damn you, Zelena!" is just...*whew! Fans self.*

#season 3 rewatch drabbles #cs fanfiction #zelena is the worst #but let's be real #emma and the charmings are also the worst in this scene #what exactly was Killian supposed to do? #Zelena left him NO options #my fanfiction #damn you zelena indeed!

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x18 Bleeding Through

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 855

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (21)

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Emma sat at the counter at Granny’s focusing all her attention on the mug of hot cocoa sitting before her.  If all went as planned, she’d be able to focus her magic and send the mug to the broody pirate sitting in their characteristic booth.

Despite, well, everything (after all, nothing in this town was ever easy or normal), Emma had a new found optimism after the day she’d just spent.  They may not know what Zelena’s plan was.  They may not know exactly how to defeat her.  They may not even know why she was doing what she was doing, but they did have something going for them: Emma had learned how to control her magic, and with that simple fact she knew they were going to win. That fact alone made her nearly euphoric.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the feeling, and let the warmth of her magic bubble up from deep within.  When she opened her eyes, she saw that it had worked.  She’d successfully transported the hot beverage without spilling a drop.

“Boom!” she said, triumphantly, as she rose from her bar stool and bounded over to Killian in the booth.  “Granny’s to go.  I should open a franchise.”

Killian sighed, lifted the mug from the book he was perusing and set it aside.  “It’s impressive,” he said, in a tone that sounded far more annoyed than impressed.

Something was up with him.  He hadn’t truly been himself since…well, since he brought her back to Storybrooke, to be honest, but especially in the past day.  He’d been broody before, but this…this was a whole new level.

She thought back to earlier that evening when she’d seen what he’d done–helped Ariel find her way back to Eric–when she’d finally opened up to him, told him she didn’t care what happened in the past year. 

When she’d all but let him inside her walls.  (She hadn’t torn them down, of course.  It was more like she’d cut a small door for him.)

She wasn’t an idiot.  She knew he cared for her.  He’d all but declared his love back in Neverland.  She wasn’t ready for all of that yet–wasn’t sure if she’d ever be–but she was ready for…she didn’t know…something.

She would have thought he’d have jumped at the opening she offered him.  She would have thought her overture would have put a smile on his face, but nothing could have been farther from the truth.  If anything, her statements seemed to cast him even deeper into his bad mood.  He’d even declined having dinner with the family.

Something was definitely up with him.

Ever since Neverland, he’d been there for her, he’d been her support, her sounding board, her cheerleader.  In some ways, he’d been the best friend she had.  It was time she returned the favor.  So she found herself doing something she’d never expected to do with him.

Flirting.

“You wanna see something really impressive?” she asked, giggling like a schoolgirl.  With a wave of her hand, she transported his hook to the coat rack in the corner of the room.

She would have expected him to laugh, to praise her magical prowess, to do that thing with his eyebrows that she’d never admit made the butterflies dance inside her, to make a suggestive remark.  Anything.

Instead, he sighed in obvious exasperation as he got up from his seat to retrieve his steely appendage.  “It’s bad form, Swan,” he said, an edge of impatience in his tone, “tampering with a man’s hook.”

Yeah, there was no doubt about it, something was seriously off.  “Okay, what is up with you?”  she asked.

He took his seat again, sighing and refusing to look at her as he clicked his hook back into place.  “I apologize for my rudeness.  It’s a long story.  Too long for now.”  With that, he uncorked his flask and took a long drag.

Well, at least he’d admitted there was a story there.  She wasn’t about to let him dismiss it like that, though.  It was time they had it out.  It was time he let her know what was eating him inside.

It was time she proved to him that she’d been serious in the stairwell of her parents’ loft earlier that day.  She didn’t care what he’d done; it wouldn’t change how she felt about him.  (Not that she wanted to delve too deeply into just what she felt about him, but that was beside the point.)

“Okay, obviously something is–” she began, just as Belle burst through the door, book in hand and a look of urgency on her face.

Emma sighed.  She should have known better than to hope for a heart to heart.  A person could barely get two sentences out in this town before some crises erupted.

She really couldn’t wait to have this whole business behind her so she and Henry could get back to New York, back to normal life. Whether Killian ever told her what was bothering him, whether he followed her back to New York again…well, she supposed that would just have to remain an open question.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#season 3 rewatch drabbles #ouat fanfic #captain swan fanfiction #3x18 bleeding through #they are both idiots #and I just want to shake them

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Snow ‘Too Beautiful For This World’ White

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x17 The Jolly Roger.

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 875

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (20) (21)

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Note: There were many directions I could have gone with this Killian-centric episode, but given the recent passing of Chris Gauthier, it seemed appropriate to write a Killian-Smee centered “drabble”.

Killian looked out across the sea at the Storybrooke harbor.  He’d always found that looking at the horizon brought him peace and comfort, but none was to be had today.

How long could he keep the truth of his activities during the lost year from Emma?  How would she react, how would everyone react when they learned of the choices he’d made in order to take back his ship?

“Captain Hook!” he heard from behind him. “Captain!”

The guilt deepend as he glanced at Smee.  Always the faithful first mate, Smee was willing to follow him anywhere, follow any command.  He rather reminded him of a faithful dog, perhaps one of those new goldendoodles Swan’s lad had shown him moving pictures of on his telephone.  

Would even Smee stand beside him when he learned the full truth?  Killian hid his worries behind the mask of the stern captain.

“It’s about time, Mr. Smee.  You know how much I abhor waiting.  What is it that’s so urgent?”

“It’s just, um,” Smee stammered, “that me and the men were talking about how we haven’t seen much of you since we all ended up back here.”

Killian waited for a beat, but it soon became obvious that Smee was not inclined to elaborate without prompting. “Is there a point to that rather odd observation?”

“What’s keeping us from crewing up again, hitting the high seas, getting back to pirating?” Smee asked animatedly.

Killian’s heart plummeted again. He knew no matter how much he might have tried to go back, that life was no longer for him. “You mean, other than being attacked and turning into flying monkeys?  Have you forgotten there’s no safe passage out of this town?  You’ve already been a rodent, Mr. Smee, does life as a simian interest you as well?”

He hoped his tone of annoyance would deter Smee, but it seemed the other man was not to be put off this time. “Of course there’s safe passage!” Smee said. “We could outrun them!”

“Not with that tosser of yours,” Killian said, gesturing derisively to the broken down excuse for a boat Smee had purloined.

“If we had a fast enough ship,” Smee persisted, “The Jolly Roger for instance… You still haven’t told me whether you found her during the time none of us can remember.”

Another wave of pain washed over Killian.  Oh he’d found her alright.  He’d found her, traded a good man’s safety to take her back…and then he’d given her up again.  Aye, he’d do it all again a thousand times if it meant he could get back to Swan, but it still hurt.  She’d been his last link to Liam, to Milah.  She’d been his home and sanctuary for centuries.  He couldn’t help but feel her loss.  Keenly.

“What happened during that time isn’t important,” Killian said dismissively, praying that Smee would let it go.

It seemed the gods did not deign to smile on him this time.

“Because you remember,” he persisted. “Is our ship okay?  What…what happened to it?”

“My ship,” Killian barked.  “All you need to know, Mr. Smee, is that the Jolly Roger isn’t here, so there will be no outrunning of anything.”

“Well, I mean, what if we found another ship?” he tried, “Any one of these–”

Killian felt his exasperation multiply. “Mr. Smee, I’ve tried letting you down easy.  Now let me be more direct. I have no intention of leaving this town.”

I have no intention of leaving her.  Not ever again.

“Captain, I agree with you, this place has its bright spots,” Smee continued. “I have never tried anything quite like frozen yogurt before, but the Wicked Witch is here, and with that kind of danger, what possible reason do you have to stay?”

It was then that he spotted her.  Swan and her lad were walking toward him, clearly seeking him out.  His heart made its characteristic swoop at the sight of her.  She was so beautiful, so vibrant.  Though it had seemed impossible he could love her more, absence truly had made his heart grow fonder. Aye, he’d willingly, happily, give the Jolly away for her again and again–that and much more–to have the chance to keep her and her lad safe.

Whether or not Mr. Smee would understand his motives was an open question, and one he had no intention of exploring at the moment.  Instead, he infused his tone with every bit of command and steely determination he could muster.  Far stronger men than Smee had cowered before him when he got in their faces and employed the deadly tone he intended to use here. 

“My reasons are my own,” he growled. “Question them again at your peril.”

For the briefest moment he thought he saw a flash of pain, betrayal in his faithful first mate’s eyes, and he felt like the worst of cads.  In so many ways, Smee was a better man than he, and he deserved a better captain, a better friend.

But then Swan was there before him, and all else was forgotten.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#once upon a time fanfic #season 3 rewatch drabbles #killian jones #mr. smee #broody self loathing killian being broody and self loathing

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x16 It's not Easy Being Green

Note: I don't know who created the above gif. If you're the creator, reach out to me, and I'll add an attribution.

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 649

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (19) (20) (21)

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Emotions swirled within her that evening as she heard the knock at her door at the B&B and opened to find her son and Killian–windswept, smiling, excited–standing before her.  So many emotions, she wondered how they could all exist within one person and not tear her apart.

Grief over Neal’s death, anger over the Zelena for causing it, frustration that they’d survived the recent encounter but still been thoroughly trounced, relief that her son at least was safe and happy, something like butterflies at the very sight of Killian, guilt that she might, possibly, perhaps, in some small way feel….something…for him.  Not love of course!  Couldn’t be that, but…something.  But yes guilt that she could feel anything for someone else when Neal had just died, anger at Neal for his bull-headed stupidity in getting himself killed.

Yes, all of that, but above all, an overwhelming desire to run.  A part of her deep inside knew things were more complicated now, that she couldn’t just run back to New York, to the good life she’d thought she had, and forget about all of this–Storybrooke, magic, being the savior, her family, Henry’s family. Killian.  But the fact that she knew that was the case didn’t make the desire lessen.

Why, why, why couldn’t she just have an ordinary life?  A peaceful one?  One where she didn’t have to worry about some sadistic green witch turning her son into a flying monkey?  One where she could have an ordinary job (albeit one with more than a little danger and unpredictability)?  One where she could have a perfectly ordinary (even if kind of boring) man to love?

He was lying to you.  He was really just another one of Zelena’s flying monkeys, the honest part of her that she could never completely drown out pointed out helpfully.

And there it was.  Even her happy, ordinary life was an illusion.  But she’d built a happy, normal life for herself and Henry.  She could do it again, and she could put all of this behind her.

At least so she told herself when she was alone, when Killian wasn’t standing in front of her looking at her like that–like he knew her, really knew her to her core and loved her anyway.  It was terrifying.

“How did the queen fare against the witch?” Killian asked as soon as Henry disappeared into their room.

“She survived, but the rest is definitely more than a doorway conversation,” she said a little dismissively.  But Killian deserved more than that.  He deserved at least a little gratitude.  “Thanks for taking him.”

Killian smiled wistfully.  “There’s more Bae in your boy than you realize,” he said sadly.  

She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice.  It was easy to forget–especially after the idiots the two of them made of themselves over her in Neverland, but Killian cared for Neal too, mourned him too. She prepared to say something comforting, something to let him know she understood and was there for him like he’d been there for her, but then he continued and touched on the heart of the issue.

“He needs to know about his father, Emma,” he said gently but firmly. “You can’t just take him back to New York when this is over and pretend like none of this is real.”

The fear, guilt and need to run bubbled up again, and she knew she couldn’t deal with this any more tonight. 

And so she ran.  Rather than answer, she smiled sadly, said good night and disappeared into her room.  One day, probably one day soon, she’d need to confront the truth of what he’d said, but that day was not today.  Today she just needed to shut him out, listen to her son gush about the fun he’d had with Killian, and pretend like normal was still possible.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#season 3 rewatch drabbles #ouat fanfiction #my fanfiction #cs fanfiction #3x16 it's not easy being green

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 3 Rewatch Drabble: 3x15 Quiet Minds

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 674

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (18) (19) (20) (21)

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“Okay, so what’s the plan?” Emma asked as she stepped out of Baelfire’s hospital room and rejoined her parents and Hook.

Killian saw the hints of agitation on her face and wondered just what had transpired between her and Bae after he’d asked for a moment of privacy with her.

Nothing pleasant, that was for sure.

The selfish part of him felt a kind of sick satisfaction at the fact, but his better nature–blessedly the part that was firmly in control at the moment–felt only concern for her, and even some manner of concern for Bae.

“Is everything alright, Swan?�� he asked gently.

She looked at him, and for the briefest of seconds, she let him see her agitation and discomfort before firmly shutting it down.  “It’s fine,” she bit out, “but time’s wasting.  We need to find Gold. Now.  So again, what’s the plan?”

Killian wanted to argue, knowing everything clearly wasn’t alright, but he knew Swan well enough by now to realize any further insistence would be met with intractable denial.

“Well, your mom and I figured the best place to start the search would be the woods,” David said.  “No real reason to think he’s there, but we know he didn’t go to his shop or his house, and the last place we know he was was in Zelena’s cellar, so…” He shrugged.

“Great,” Emma said.  “Dad, you and I will head there.  Mom?”

Snow White sighed.  “I know,” she said. “I’ll be no help on the search in my very pregnant state.  I guess I’ll…stay with Belle and watch over the homefront.  I can still wield my bow and arrow.”

“Sounds good, and Hook?” She said turning to him.

“I’ll accompany you,” he said, his look encompassing both Swan and the prince.  “After all, we can’t be too careful with the witch about.”

Snow and David shared a look.  “Actually, Hook,” David said, “we were thinking it might be better if you stayed here.”

He protested vehemently at the suggestion, but Swan stopped him with a gentle hand to his arm.  “He’s right,” she said. “We need someone here with Neal.”

“You think he needs protection?”

She snorted.  “Well that, and there’s also the fact that he needs someone to stop him in case he does something stupid. Not like that’s unusual for him.”

“Emma!” her mother chided.

“I just mean something like leaving the hospital against medical advice,” she said. “You know, trying to come after his dad himself.”

“Aye,” Killian agreed, as a new possibility occurred to him, “not to mention the fact that we don’t know how much we can trust him.”

Snow White gave him a look that was so reminiscent of his own mother rebuking him when he was a small lad that he nearly squirmed.

“Consider what little we know thus far,” he said. “I’ve no doubt Bae is sincere in his allegiance to the side of the heroes, but we’ve yet to learn what precisely he did to resurrect his father.  It is a safe bet that it was both exceedingly reckless and at least marginally unsavory.  It would not hurt to have someone about to protect him when the price he undoubtedly owes for such dark magic comes due.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Swan said after a moment.  “Let’s get to it, then.”

“Swan,”he called after her as she and her parents started toward the hospital entrance.  She turned back to look at him. “Be safe,” he answered, unable to stop the slight hint of concern for her welfare from his voice.

Her eyes softened, and she smiled slightly at him.  “Always am.”

With that, they were off, and Killian was left standing alone in the hospital corridor.  He took a step toward the cafeteria in search of that “jell-o” he’d been served.  It had been far too sweet for his taste and the texture was…unusual to say the least, but he gathered it had great medicinal properties and as such it would be as good an offering to Bae as anything.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#season 3 rewatch drabbles #ouat fanfiction #my fanfiction #cs fanfiction #3x15 quiet minds

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Can we talk about how absolutely aghast he looks that Emma had the ~AUDACITY~ to forget he’s a pirate?! 🤣🤣🤣

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x14 The Tower

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 915

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21)

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The past year without her had been hell.  He’d missed her every day, every moment of every day.  He’d tried everything he could to forget her, to alleviate the ever present pain, but the only thing that had brought him even the smallest modicum of comfort was the remembrance of their parting.

Good.

That one word had told him everything.  Despite her walls, she did care for him, she would miss him–or at least she would have had she retained her memories.

It was that reminder that had gotten him through the early sleepless nights.  It was that promise that had given him hope when he’d finally been given a chance to return to her.

He would like to believe he’d be pleased to learn she’d been happy, that she’d found love again, but selfish bastard that he was, it had cut like a knife through his heart when she’d told him the eight months she’d spent with Walsh had been real and that she’d loved him.

Now, reunited, back in Storybrooke, memories restored, the walls she’d built around her heart were tenfold what they had been in Neverland, and in his lower moments he almost wondered if the year without her–but with the memory of her good–had been less painful.

“You know what Swan?” he asked peevishly as they stomped through the snow-covered ground searching for a trace of the witch. “Whenever you’re around, I inevitably find myself trekking through some manner of woods or forests courting danger.”

She gave him a sardonic grin. “And here I thought you weren’t afraid of anything, always looking for the next adventure.”

“Oh, is that what this is?”

“Isn’t it?” she asked, her words dripping with sarcasm. “What the hell were you doing on that ship?  I’m guessing it was one swashbuckling tale after another until you decided to come back and save me.”

He couldn’t stop the stab of pain her words gave him.  He knew this was a defense mechanism, but gods above, did she truly think that of him, even in part?

“Exactly,” he answered shortly.  She wasn’t the only one, after all, who could employ defense mechanisms.

She stopped abruptly and turned to face him, all trace of mocking sarcasm wiped from her face to be replaced by a seering intensity. “You’re lying.”

“Excuse me?”

“What happened back there?” she pressed. “What aren’t you telling me?”

The shame washed over him as he remembered the sordid business with Blackbeard, Prince Eric and Ariel.  The last thing in the world he wanted was to see the disappointment and revulsion in her eyes when she heard the tale.  More deflection was certainly in order.

“Nothing,” he said shortly, turning to continue his walk. “That’s my tale and I’m sticking to it.”

“I still don’t believe you.”

Killian mentally groaned.  She was not giving this up.  It was time to take drastic measures to change the subject.  “Let’s leave it at that, and you can just say thank you.”

“For my memories?” she asked, “I already did.”

“For saving you from a loveless marriage,” he said, turning toward her, looking into her eyes, looking for an indication it was true.

“Is that what you think you were doing?” she asked.

“He was a flying monkey,” he said flippantly.

“I didn’t know that,” she answered, and he could hear the pain in that statement.  It made him feel like a cad, pressing on her still open wound.

“Were you considering it? His proposal?”

“Does it matter?” she asked.

“Humor me,” he answered, both needing and dreading the answer.  He knew this woman, knew her better than anyone.  He saw the festering wound her walls hid, knew it needed to be lanced in order for her to heal.

And so he pushed, even though the act hurt him nearly as much as it did her.

“Yes, okay?” she finally answered, her tone steely. “I was in love, so of course I was considering it, but as usual, he wasn’t who he said he was and I got my heart broken. That enough humor for you?”

Killian let out a long breath, feeling the pain and betrayal coming from her in waves.  Behind that thick, nearly impenetrable wall lay a heart that was bruised and bloody, but one that still beat, one that would heal, one that could find happiness again.

He could only hope she’d allow him to be the one who helped her find it. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m glad to hear that.”

If anything, her frown deepened. “You’re glad to hear I got my heart broken?”

Killian took a chance.  He stepped forward, letting his feelings, his sincerity, his care for her shine through his eyes as he looked deeply into Emma’s. “If it can be broken, it means it still works.”

For one bright shining moment, he thought she might kiss him.  Her breath caught, she swayed into him, her own feelings, which she’d been trying so desperately to hide, to banish, shown through her lovely green eyes.

And then abruptly the walls came up again.  

Without a word, she turned away, stepped past him and continued on toward the farmhouse in the distance.

The disappointment washed over him, and he allowed himself to feel it for a moment before sighing and moving forward.

The woman he loved–the one he knew loved him–was still in there.  He simply needed to be patient.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#once upon a time fanfiction #captain swan fanfiction #season 3 rewatch drabbles #3x14 the tower #emma and her 3b walls #*shakes head

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

            Captain Swan Advent Calendar 2022

                     Day 15 ↝ Hugs

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x13 Witch Hunt

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 844

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21)

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Regina was no stranger to grief–after all, she’d lost both of her parents as well as her first love–but nothing could have prepared her for the overwhelming, all consuming, oppressive grief of losing a child.  Granted, Henry wasn’t dead.  He was hopefully living a full and happy life with Emma in New York, and that was certainly some comfort, but still the grief of knowing there was no way of ever seeing him again was so crushing she felt like she could barely breathe.

It was the main reason she’d come back to her castle.  She just wanted it all to end, and she knew exactly how to do that.  Putting herself under a sleeping curse might be extreme, but hey.  It was better than living out the next forty or fifty years with this overwhelming sadness.

“Make yourself useful,” she tossed over her shoulder to the man who had followed her like a stray puppy, or perhaps a guard dog.

Regina’s broken heart swooped at the remembrance of discovering Robin Hood following her.  What was wrong with her?  Why did she have this strong, overwhelming reaction to him everytime he showed up?  Yes, he was handsome, but she’d had dealings with plenty of handsome men through the years.  What was it about this bandit that affected her so?  She didn’t need this distraction.

And so, she’d resorted to her default when she felt flat footed–sarcasm and snark.

She did her best to ignore him as she went about gathering the supplies she needed for the curse.

She should have known he would make that impossible.

“What is that?” he asked, suspiciously eyeing the bottles she’d amassed.

“Nothing that concerns you,” she said dismissively.

He pulled an arrow at her, actually pulled an arrow. “I won’t ask you again. What is that?”

Regina’s anger flared–anger at him, anger at herself, anger at Pan, anger at the witch who’d stolen her castle, anger at the whole damn world and everyone in it.  She raised her hand and choked him.  “How dare you threaten me in my own castle!”

He struggled against her hold, but the defiance never left his eyes.  “Even if you choke the life out of me,” he gasped, “this arrow will still leave my bow, and trust me, I never miss.  Now what manner of dark potion are you making?”

In an instant the anger drained from her, leaving nothing but the emptiness–and something feeling almost like shame.  Why did it bother her so much that this man jumped to the worst conclusions about her motives?

It was something that didn’t bear contemplation.  She was so tired, so heartsick, she just wanted it to be over.  She let him go.  “A sleeping curse.”

“The kind you used on Snow White?” he asked.

“That spell came from Maleficent,” she answered, mixing ingredients. “I finally learned how to make one of my own.”

“A spell?  This is why you wanted to come to the castle?” he asked.  “That was your plan? To use it on the witch?”

“The witch?” Regina asked in surprise.  Truthfully, the idea had never occurred to her.  “I don’t care about her.”

“Then who do you plan to use it on?”

Regina stopped for a second, letting the pain, the heartbreak, wash over her once again.  She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing things were different, wishing, in a rare moment of brutal self reflection, that she’d been different.  “Don’t worry.  No one you’ll miss.  No one anyone will miss.”

“This is about your son, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice tender, understanding.  “I can’t let you do this.”

And she couldn’t let him stop her.  With a lazy wave of her hand, she stuck his feet to the floor.  “Then it’s a good thing you don’t have a say in the matter.”

He tried to dissuade her, speaking of his own heartbreak, his own guilt at his wife’s death.  He spoke to her of second chances and new reasons to care about life.

For a moment, a single moment, she almost wavered.  Her traitorous heart leapt at the hope, the possibilities his words brought to her.  What if…what if he was right?  What if there was still a possibility of a…if not strictly happy, at least content…life for her?

But as soon as the hope sprung up, it dissipated.  It was too late for her.  Too late for hope.  Hope was for the heroes, for those who still had their loved ones at their side.  Her hope was gone, and she was never getting it back.

“This isn’t an end,” she said finally. “It’s an eternal middle.  This curse can be broken by the only true love in my life and the only reason I would even want to wake–my son.”

“Regina, listen to me!  This is a mistake!” He tried one last time.

“Don’t worry,” she said, resisting the allure of his voice, “I’ll keep my word.  I’ll lower the protection spell so that Snow and Charming can be victorious, but then, then I go to sleep.”

NEXT CHAPTER->

#once upon a time fanfiction #season 3 rewatch drabbles #outlaw queen fanfic #the evil queen #robin hood

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

S03E11

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

365 days of emma swan: day 94

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Anybody else get the feeling there was A LOT of female crime in Hyperion Heights whenever he was on duty?

Arrest me, please, detective 😏

Tag people who may be interested: @killianxswan @teamhook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @caught-in-the-filter @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Completely ridiculous and insulting to women who are survivors of sexual assault and/or domestic battery.

He's entitled to ship whatever he wants and create whatever fanfiction or "fanon" about it he wants, but he's not entitled to change canon, and in canon CS took a True Love test. The only way they could have passed the test is if they are True Love. Guilt does not work that way.

As to the rape and killing of romantic partners, it's honestly wild to me that people accuse Killian of that when there's absolutely no evidence he ever did anything remotely like that. Regina, on the other hand....do they all just forget that Graham existed?

Yesterday I had a big fight with S/Qer, who went to my moot’s comments under CS edit and wrote his “opinion”. It so strange to me, how they can see everything in completely wrong way. And it’s funny how they ignore all red flags in Regina even if you give them facts, quotes and moments.

That guy said that they could do True Love test in Underworld because Emma felt guilty. Oh, man, they literally said that it was TRUE LOVE test. Your interpretation is only your problem.

And that guy wrote “Because of an opinion like yours, women are raped and killed”. What? 💀

Just ship what you want and don’t try to bring your unnecessary opinion to those people who will never understand you and your delusional interpretation.

#anti sq

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Throwback Thursday: National Pi Day Meet Cute

Note: This story was first posted on March 14, 2018. Given that it is once again National Pi Day, I was persuaded to repost.

Title: National Pi Day Meet Cute

Fandom: Captain Swan

Rating: G

Words: 1678

Summary:

When Mary Margaret Blanchard finds out her grandson has a very single, very handsome math teacher, she devises a way to create a sweet little meet cute between her daughter, Emma, and said math teacher.

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26 @bethacaciakay @ultraluckycatnd @effulgent-mind @ilovemesomekillianjones @kat2609 @brooke-to-broch @missgymgirl @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @daxx04 @nickillian  @gillie  @britishguyslover @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst @kmomof4 @linda8084 @golfgirld @captain-swan-coffee @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious @laughswaytoomuch  @allyourdarlingswans  @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82 @therooksshiningknight @lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree @jrob64  @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @i-will-sing-no-requiem @bluewildcatfanatic @laianely

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“Bye mom!” Henry yelled, as he hopped out of Emma’s yellow bug, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and started sprinting toward his friends.  “See you after school!”

Emma waved him off, smiling as she saw her son catch up with a few of his friends, talking animatedly.  It had been nearly a month since the two of them had moved to the sleepy little town of Storybrooke, Maine.  Emma had worried that moving Henry halfway through his sixth grade year would be difficult, but her precocious little eleven-year-old had taken to small town living like a duck to water.  He’d made more friends than he knew what to do with, and he absolutely loved school.

The smile slid from Emma’s face as she looked at the fresh-out-of-the-oven apple pie sitting on the passenger seat before her.

The problem with having a preteen who loved school is that he talked about it.  A lot.  And one of the people he talked about more than any other was his absolute favorite teacher, Mr. Jones, who was, as Henry put it, “the best teacher in the whole world”.

When Emma and Henry had left New York for Storybrooke, the two of them had moved in with her mom and dad, David and Mary Margaret Blanchard, at least until they got settled.    When Henry started talking about Mr. Jones, Mary Margaret had perked up.  When he told her that Mr. Jones was single and “old like mom”, Emma had groaned.

Emma knew she’d never get another moment’s peace.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret had said one morning, a conniving look in her eyes.  “It’s really important you be involved in Henry’s education.  Don’t you think you should meet his teachers?  Maybe we should have one of them over for dinner one night.  How about, oh, I don’t know…Mr. Jones?”

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Look mom,” she said, “I get what you’re doing, but I’m not looking for a relationship.  I did the whole ‘fall in love’ thing about twelve years ago, and Neal Cassidy cured me from any desire to ever do it again.”

“But not every guy is like Neal,” Mary Margaret said earnestly.  “Not every guy is going to leave you.  And love is so worth it when you find the right guy.”

Emma muttered something about needing to get some work done before she went into the office, hoping her mom would drop the subject.

No such luck.

Last night, Mary Margaret had come up with her most brilliantly evil plan yet, and what’s worse, she’d gotten Henry involved.

“Hey mom,” Emma said as she returned to the loft after her day at the sheriff’s station.  “Something smells good.”

Mary Margaret shot her the kind of smile that Emma knew was trouble.  “So Henry came home from school today and told me that tomorrow is National Pi Day.  I was thinking I ought to do something to celebrate.  I thought I would make a pie for his math teacher, Mr. Jones—you know his very single, very handsome and very eligible teacher?  You know because….pie for Pi Day?”

Emma groaned.

“And…” Mary Margaret said in a way that made Emma sure she didn’t want to hear what came next, “I was thinking maybe you could take the pie to Mr. Jones.”

“Mom…”

“Yeah!” Henry said, coming in and swiping an apple slice from the bowl where his grandma was tossing them with cinnamon and sugar.  “Mom, Mr. Jones would love it, and I can’t carry the pie in myself!  I’d look like a loser!”

“Since when does pie make you look like a loser?” Emma asked.

“Mom!” Henry said, drawing out the single syllable and following it with an eyeroll.  “I can’t take a pie to a teacher.  I’ll look like a teacher’s pet!”

“He’s right, Emma,” Mary Margaret said solemnly.  “Middle school is a brutal place.  You don’t want your son to be ostracized, do you?”

Emma sighed, shaking her head at the two.  She knew when she was beat, and with the two of them ganging up on her, she was most definitely beat.  “Fine.  I’ll take the pie to Mr. Jones.”

And so here she was, bright and early on National Pi Day, weaving her way through a sea of rowdy pre-teens, looking for room 108, where Mr. Perfect himself would be waiting.

Mr. Perfect she scoffed to herself.  The man was a math teacher, a math teacher who was passionate about his topic.  Just about screamed nerd didn’t it?  There was probably a very good reason he was very single. 

She stopped just outside the door and took a deep breath.  She’d get this over with, and then be able to go home and tell her matchmaking mother that her meddlesome schemes had failed miserably.

“Mr. Jones?” she said, knocking on the doorframe, and looking in at the man whose back was turned to her as he worked on his computer.

Mr. Jones turned around, and for a moment Emma forgot to breath, though she’s pretty sure she gasped so loudly her mom could hear it all the way from the loft.  Mr. Jones was quite possibly the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life.

He gave her an appreciative grin, getting to his feet and coming to meet her with an outstretched hand.  “Mr. Killian Jones at your service.  And who might you be, love?”

Great!  Not only was he hotter than any many had a right to be, but he had a smooth, British accent as well.  Butterflies started doing the polka in her stomach.

“Love?” He said again, and it was only then that Emma realized she’d been staring, mouth hanging open, at the man in front of her for a solid two minutes.

She shook her head.  Emma!  Get a grip!

“Sorry,” she said, hating the slightly husky sound of her voice.  “I’m Emma Swan.  My son Henry is in one of your sixth grade math classes.”

“Henry!” Mr. Jones said.  “I must admit he’s one of my favorites.  What can I do for you Mrs. Swan?”

“Miss,” Emma said, lamely, surprised and annoyed by how hard she was finding it to string two words together in a coherent fashion.

“Beg pardon?”

“It’s Miss Swan,” Emma said.  Henry’s dad and I…well, let’s just say we haven’t been together since before he was born and leave it at that.”

He grinned at her from beneath heavily hooded eyes, and the look made her heart skip a beat.  The amount of gorgeous this man was displaying should be illegal.  It really should.  “I must say, I’m rather glad to hear it.  So what brings you to my classroom, love, though I’m hardly complaining about a lovely and single woman coming to visit me?”

Emma felt the blush covering her face.  She averted her eyes, desperately looking for a way to get ahold of herself.  Her eyes landed on the item she was holding.  “Uh, I came to give you this.  Henry thought you might like a pie for National Pi Day, because, you know, pie, Pi?”

He laughed, and Emma looked up, admiring the dimples in his scruff-covered cheeks, the tiny lines around his shockingly blue eyes.  “I’ll accept this happily on one condition.”

“Yeah?  What’s that?”

“You simply must stay and have a slice with me,” he said gesturing toward his desk.

“Don’t you have, you know classes to teach and stuff?” Emma asked.

“Aye,” Killian said, “but as it happens, first period is my prep period, so I’m all yours for the next hour.”

“I don’t know…”

“I insist,” Killian said.  “You, no doubt have heard about me from your son, but I know next to nothing about his mother.  Just who are you, Swan?”

Emma grinned, giving him a flirtatious look.  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Perhaps I would,” he answered with a wink that did not turn her insides to mush.  (It absolutely turned her insides to mush.)

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

An hour and a half later, Emma pulled up in front of her parents’ apartment building, dropped her head onto her hands on the steering wheel and groaned.

She and Killian had fallen into easy conversation over their pie, and just before she left, he’d asked her out to dinner that night, insisting he must return the favor.

She’d said yes almost before the sentence was complete.  She had a date with her son’s (hot) math teacher.

There would be no living with her mother after this.

~The End~

Notes:

--Happy National Pi Day!  When I heard on the radio this morning that we were celebrating that particular holiday, it brought back to mind something that happened to me several years ago.  My sister had a single math teacher who was around my age.  My mom decided that he would be absolutely perfect for me.  (Why?  I don’t know; she hadn’t even met the guy.  All she knew was that he was my age and single, lol.).  So she came up with this brilliant, devious plan to create a little meet cute.  She made a pie for the guy for National Pi Day, called me at my apartment, and asked if I would take my baby sister into school that morning and take the pie to her eligible bachelor of a teacher.  I rolled my eyes and agreed to do it.  Sadly, my story has an anti-climactic ending.  When I got to the classroom, Mr. Perfect was not there, so I ended up just setting the pie on his desk and leaving.  I never did meet the math teacher, which is fine with me.  We must not affirm our mothers in their crazy matchmaking schemes, lol.

--But, as that story came to mind, I realized it, like so many other things, would make a very interesting CS au.  So happy pi day, everyone!  I wish you all drop dead gorgeous, blue eyed, black haired, ginger-bearded math teachers to make your Pi Day complete!

#throw back thursday #captain swan fanfiction #cs au #my fanfiction

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x12 New York City Serenade (part 2)

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 831

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21)

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Note: You can thank (or blame) @kmomof4 for this one. She's the one who sent me the prompt!

Mary Margaret slowly swam up from the depths of sleep.  It was when she opened her eyes that the alarm bells started going off in her mind.

She was in her bed in the loft.  What was she doing here?  How did she get here?  The last thing she remembered was being at the town line, the curse about to hit them as Emma and Henry drove away.  

And then she felt it, a very distinct sensation in her abdomen, almost like someone was rolling a ball inside of her.

Mary Margaret looked down and gasped.  Where only moments ago her stomach had been flat, now it resembled a beach ball..

She felt it again, and remembered the feeling from about thirty years before.  This is what it felt like to be pregnant, and not just pregnant, but just-about-to-give birth pregnant.

Her heart started racing.  How could she be pregnant?  How could she be this pregnant?  This wasn’t possible!  This wasn’t…oh gods, she’d had a drink with Emma just the other day, and she hadn’t had any prenatal vitamins or doctors visits.  She didn’t have any baby things!  How could you have a baby without preparing your house?!

This was a dream.  This had to be a dream!  She pinched herself. Hard. And then pinched herself again.  Nothing happened.

Mary Margaret started hyperventilating. “David,” she said her voice little more than a croak. Beside her he mumbled incoherently in his sleep.

What had happened?  Was this Pan’s curse?  Oh gods, was Emma okay?  Henry?  Were they here?

The hyperventilating intensified.  “David!” she said louder.  He stirred but didn’t wake.

This couldn’t be happening!  It couldn’t!  She felt another kick, as though the little being inside of her begged to differ.

“Charming!” She shouted it this time, and he woke with a start, sitting up so fast, his head must have been swimming.  

He looked around, uttering a soft curse in surprise.  “What are we doing here?”

“I don’t know,” Mary Margaret said, hearing the absolute panic in her voice.  “I don’t know.  David, we don’t even have a crib!”

He turned to look at her, eyebrows furrowed, just now becoming aware of both her tone and the very strange thing she’d just said.  Slowly his eyes drifted to her midsection and he cursed again.  “Snow, you’re…”

“I know!” She said,  “David, our family and now this and the town and the curse, and what’s going on?  Oh gods, what’s happening?”

David shook his head as if to clear it, and then gripped her shoulders gently.  “I don’t know, Mary Margaret, but you need to calm down.  You need to breathe.  This can’t be good for the–”

“How can I calm down?” Mary Margaret nearly shouted.  “I don’t know what’s–”

Suddenly his lips were on hers, the rest of her words fading away as he kissed her hard and deep.  Her mind suddenly went blank.  When he kissed her like that, it always made everything fade away.  There was nothing else but him and her and this feeling between them.

After a moment, he pulled back, hands still caressing her shoulders, as he looked into her eyes.  “Better?” he asked.

She took a deep breath and let it out.  “Yes, thank you.”  The panic had receded but the concern about their situation was still there at the forefront.  “David, what’s going on here?  Are we in another curse?”

He looked around their loft, seemingly listening for something–anything–that might give him some idea of what was going on.  “I don’t know,” he said finally, “but we seem to be alone here.  I think whatever this is, Emma and Henry managed to escape.”

“Well, that’s something, I guess.”

David slowly reached down, putting a hand on her distended belly.  The baby within gave another kick, strong enough that David could feel it.  He chuckled.  “I think this little guy just gave me a high five.”

Snow smiled, putting her hand over David’s.  She still had no idea what had happened or what they were facing, but the initial panic over, it started dawning on her.  Her wish from Echo Caves was coming true.  She and David were about to be parents again.

“Are you happy?” she asked.

His smile was brighter than she’d seen it in years.  “Of course I’m happy.  Snow, we get another chance.  We get to be a family!”

“But what about Emma and Henry?”

“We’ll find them,” David said confidently.  “We’ll defeat–whatever this latest crisis is and we’ll get our family back, and we will get our happily ever after.  How could we fail when we’re together?”

Mary Margaret leaned in and kissed him softly, so thankful for this man, she couldn’t even find words.  “David, there’s no one I’d rather have by my side for…whatever it is we’re facing.  I love you.”

“Not nearly as much as I love you,” he replied.

She very seriously doubted that, but rather than argue, she simply leaned in for one more kiss.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#season 3 rewatch drabbles #ouat fanfiction #my fanfiction #3x12 new york city serenade #mary margaret blanchard #david nolan