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melis-writes · 2 years

Note

prompt idea: Victoria giving birth. again. 😂 but a little different this time:

about 20+ years after they first met, Michael and Victoria are having a family/friends/community/business contacts gathering. (it could be one of Tom or Sonny's grandkids first communion, Michael getting honoured by the church such as in tg3, one of their own kids' comemmoration... is up to you)

a dilf Michael (im drooling just thinking of it) and a boombshell mature Victoria are more in love with each other than ever. their kids have grown and are tracing their own paths (carreers, relationships, grandkids... i'll leave it to you.) and momma Vic is heavily pregnant again in her mid to late 40s, much to everyone's (including their own) surprise.

Michael is completely enchanted by the sight of Victoria expecting again after so many years. and more worried than he has ever been with the potential risks of it. the kids (adults and teenagers by this point 😂) are shocked but extremely happy with the idea of welcoming a new sibling around, and have all eyes on their mom.

a not very amused Victoria sneaks away a little to take a breath of fresh air by herself and ends up with a broken water. Michael and the kids soon realize she's missing and start blamming one another in a very funny scene, only to find Victoria in her bedroom, calmly breathing through her contractions and strangely excited trough the pain, making all of them freak out.

to late to arrive at the hospital, the baby is born there, assisted by the family in the middle of lots of nervousness, laughter, happy tears and unconditional love. With Michael and Victoria more than happy overjoyed to do it all over again with the litte Maria Chiara Corleone.

"you are suffocating me and the child. they're gonna be born already pissed at you"

"how many times i told you to not lose sight of your mother? so many eyes for not even one of it to watch her"

"michael, i should be the one freaking out...AH! just give me your hand"

"hai benedetto ancora una volta la nostra casa, mia regina. una ragazza, tanto tempo dopo verona. Ti amo, Vittoria"

Honestly with these two, I’m not surprised at all Victoria would be pregnant again. 😂❤ Love this!! ❤ A more mature pregnancy down the road with the children mostly all grown up! Lots of excitement in the air to welcome a new little baby to the family, awwwww!! 😍🙏🏻 20 years later means Victoria is about 45, and Michael is 49, Niccolo and Verona are 19, Vincent is 13 and James is 12!

1969 not only marks the year Niccolo and Verona turn nineteen with the end of another prosperous decade for your family, but also with the anticipation of your children’s acceptance to university accompanied with another surprise altogether.

Gathering today with both the Corleone and Ferrari families to celebrate the arrival of two university acceptance letters to mark a new path in the twins’ lives at your family villa in Rome with nothing but excitement in the air.

Niccolo and Verona’s success in both their lives, academics and personal hobbies have brought nothing but enough to boast about on you and Michael’s behalf for two lifetimes.

As champagne and other refreshments are served before the beginning of the family celebration, hearty conversation is made from various families as Niccolo and Verona grin at one another, toasting to sibling success.

Michael, now forty-nine and aged like fine wine; a few grey streaks through his otherwise lighty gelled, brushed back and neatly styled hair—is dressed in an immaculate tuxedo—continuing his lifetime streak of standing out at any celebration or party he attends whatsoever.

Michael’s attention is neither on the various refreshments being served around or indulged in a conversation with one of his brothers or in-laws.

Rather, Michael’s eyes are affixed towards the foyer where he knows you’ll be walking in from at any moment; just putting together the last pieces of your formal outfit for today which of course will have to accommodate for your almost nine-month old baby bump.

You and Michael have cracked smiles and chuckled here and there whenever you two have heard people say Michael and you have “aged like fine wine” with maturity in your appearances looking better than ever, but it couldn’t possibly be closer to the truth than it already is.

Just as Michael sees you approaching now, blushing at the sight of seeing your husband first while you rest your hand over your baby bump, Michael comes to realize yet again just how deeper he’s fallen in love with you as the years have gone by.

Of course the first few years of becoming a mother and father and experiencing new parenthood were critical and blossomed an entirely different love between you and Michael about twenty years earlier, but also watching all of your children grow up, succeed, and finally come down to celebrations like this is so much more than you and Michael could have dreamed of.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Michael murmurs softly as you approach him and he takes your hand in his. “There you are.”

“Almost fashionably late, right?” You blush, pecking a kiss over Michael’s lips. “You wouldn’t believe what a tight fit most of my dresses have gotten lately.”

“Does it matter?” A faint smile forms on the corners of Michael’s lips as he keeps an arm around your waist gently and gazes down at your baby bump. “As long as you and baby Maria are comfortable, the rest of the world can wait when it comes to your clothing choices.”

“Oh, please,” you giggle, amused by Michael’s comment as the two of you stand side by side now, beginning to attract attention by your families.

“Mom’s here!” Niccolo points out, raising his champagne flute to your direction. “And so is baby Maria, I see.”

Light chuckles come from the crowd as you notice your brothers, nieces, nephews and in-laws happily taking a peek at your baby bump as you hug onto Michael’s arm.

“It’s not me being the center of attention today,” you call out, jokingly. “Go on, who else are we waiting for?”

“If you say so!” Verona beams, happily clutching a specially marked envelope with the university’s name concealed next to her twin brother.

Since the twins were sixteen years old, they became more and more affiliated and knowledgeable about the ‘family business’ on both the Ferrari and Corleone family’s behalf.

You and Michael wouldn’t accept the twins to know much of anything until that age, and the same applies for Vincent whose now thirteen—scurrying off from his grandparent’s side to stand next to Michael with twelve-year-old James following and proudly standing next to you.

It’s not that Michael had been expecting Niccolo to change his mind about joining the family business even though he’d been jokingly calling himself “the Don” since he was a toddler, but that Michael encouraged his children to also pursue their own careers and lives instead of completely giving it to the family business as Sonny did.

Niccolo’s stance was firm; he wanted to pursue business at an Ivy League university while working in the family business, then focus on the family business full time after graduation with his own pursuits, investments and businesses on the side.

Verona on the other hand had always expressed wanting to “help people and make them happy” when she was just a little girl.

She was forever inspired by her late grandmother Ludovica’s selflessness as a nurse in her younger years, but decided to pursue a full career in medicine as a private physician instead of enrolling at nursing school.

When it comes to the idea of the family business, Verona doesn’t want to be entirely involved—at least not like her many uncles—but she wants to assist in any way that she can and make it known she’s not trying to hide her name in either family business.

All in all, Verona’s wishes are to have a proper life balance with her own career but if one said Niccolo and Verona aren’t interested in being powerful figures of their own right in the underworld, that would be a complete and utter lie.

Vincent on the other hand admires Michael and you as a role models in all aspects of his life and reminds you much of yourself and Verona in terms of personality and future goals in his life.

Teasing Niccolo and Vincent over resembling their father’s definitely paid off in the future as when James was born, his strikingly similar—almost near identical—looks to Michael surprised everyone and brought out all the more jokes that Michael’s genes were strong enough to make identical, mini replicas of himself.

Vincent and James have both just started middle school, but as Vincent began to grow, his appearance resembled a good mix of both you and Michael’s, whereas Verona looked much more like you with some similarity of Michael’s features too.

Michael and you already know you’ll be hosting a celebration just like this for when Vincent and James begin to apply to universities of their choice—welcoming them into adulthood and paving out the path of their future, celebrated and loved by everyone in the family.

When your family, colleagues and friends were on the topic of how utterly proud they were of your children’s success and how they just grew up so fast, conversation quickly (and with many giggles) also went to the fact you’re now pregnant with your fifth child at the age of forty-five.

After you gave birth to James in 1957, you and Michael continued on being extra careful about safe and unsafe days, when you were ovulating and when to use protection during sex.

In about late 1960 when the first oral contraceptive was introduced, it was the only method of protection you used resulting in twice the sex (much to both you and Michael’s insistence) right up until you missed a few pills earlier this year resulting and very much so surprising Michael and you with a pregnancy at this age.

Almost nine months into the pregnancy now and Michael still looks at you with nothing but pure awe and mesmerization, seeing you pregnant with his child yet again.

Instead of being shocked and going, “really?! Again?!” just as your friends and other family members did, when you told Michael the news of your pregnancy, you saw a warm and genuine smile form over his face and then surprise.

Still, nothing’s changed in terms of Michael’s overprotectiveness and extra care during your pregnancies, and if anything, it’s tripled now into worry as Michael knows there’s double the risks during a mature pregnancy.

Even amidst the jokes the children were making, the twins, Vincent and James were overwhelmed with joy at the news of welcoming a new baby sister—as sufficient technology came into light to determine the baby’s gender as the years went on too.

Now that the children were old enough to know and be aware of your pregnancy, their eyes were on you and the upcoming arrival of their new baby sibling too.

“Alright, alright, one moment.” Niccolo raises his champagne flute to his lips, taking a long sip which envokes chuckles from the crowds of your family. “Ah, that’s better. You know I needed to, because—” Niccolo sets down his drink, waving his acceptance letter in the air. “I woke up to twenty more of these in the mailbox.”

“Nobody likes a bragger, Niccolo.” Verona jokes, nudging her brother gently with her elbow.

“Unless it’s you bragging, right, sis?” Niccolo chuckles, “come on, come on. Open up that letter, I don’t know which one you can accepted either.”

The twins exchange equally ecstatic looks with one another as you begin to feel some discomfort from your pregnancy and let out soft, deep, breaths while trying to focus on their announcement.

Niccolo and Verona both carefully tear open their acceptance letters, pulling out the neatly folded paper inside informing them of their success in enrolling and that both universities of their choice wish to welcome them to their first semester starting in the fall.

“I’ve always wanted to pursue a business degree for as long as I could remember,” Niccolo begins, clearing his throat. “And even though I’m grateful to all of the universities around the country that I was able to enroll in and learn more about as a prospective student, only one stood out to me from the very beginning.”

“And it’s no surprise to anyone how I’ve always wanted to go to medical school—take up after my late grandmother whose inspired me since I was a little girl to aid others just as she did through medicine.” Verona adds, giddily peeking at her acceptance letter.

Cramps, nausea and discomfort aren’t anything new for you and all the more expected now, pregnant at fourty-five.

Still, you remain to hear your children’s choices of university before anything else—a breath of fresh air and some relaxation can wait a few minutes longer.

“I’m happy to announce that I’ve decided I will be going into a joint program at Harvard University this upcoming fall for both a Juris Doctor and Master of Business Administration degree.” Niccolo proclaims.

“And I’m more than grateful and appreciative to say that I’ll be at the very university both my parents added for the Doctor of Medicine program at Geisel School of Medicine at Dartmouth University!” Verona giggles, almost dropping her admission letter out of excitement.

“Oh my God.” Your eyes light up as you burst into applause with your family. “Congratulations, you two!!”

“Harvard and Dartmouth, huh?” Michael chuckles, joining the applause. “Very, very proud of these two. Would you look at that.”

“They get their smarts from you, you know.” You blush, “no shortage of that.”

“Says one of Nevada’s top prosecutor’s with one of the most illustrious careers anyone has ever seen in law.” Michael gazes at you with disbelief in his eyes. “That’s why your eldest son is also pursing a Juris Doctor degree, baby. You inspire both of our children.”

“Stoooop,” you whine quietly but a smile breaks through your lips as both you and Michael share a kiss with each other. “You’re too good to me.”

Michael takes your hand, raising it up to his mouth for a gentle kiss. “Come on, darling. They’re not going to let this go without at least a few dozen photographs.”

“Let me get my camera first though.” Your eyes light up with the suggestion. “Professional photographs are all the same but I’m definitely taking some of my own for us!”

“You brought it here with you?” Michael asks, letting go of your hand.

“Of course, I did!” You nod enthusiastically, gesturing towards the foyer. “Keep these two entertained at least while I go get it, alright, baby?”

“Mhmm,” Michael steals one last kiss from your lips before you part from him, feeling more or less guilty you’d rather grab the photography camera you indeed did bring after you get some fresh air from how badly nauseous you’ve gotten.

Between Mama Corleone smooching both of the twins’ cheeks and crying out in joy, photographs being snapped from all sides, and Michael’s brothers cracking jokes while Michael makes his way through the crowd of his family to congratulate the children, it’s easy for you to sneak away.

You clasp a hand over your mouth, groaning and feeling a painless yet immense pressure over your abdomen as you push through the back doors of the villa to get out to the courtyard.

“God…” You take in a deep breath, feeling the warm summer air soothe you for only a few moments as you lean against the fenced enclosure of the nearby garden.

It’s not that you were used to having easy pregnancies twenty years ago anyway, but that little baby Maria was causing a bit more discomfort and twice the nausea being pregnant at this day and age now.

‘Let me just…relax a little for a moment.’ You pull over a lawn chair by the garden and carefully take a seat, clutching onto your baby bump and sighing in relief.

You haven’t even realized you’ve mostly been standing all day, and if Michael finds out, he’ll definitely make sure you don’t get up for the rest of the day either—hence why you don’t want him to worry here and now of all places.

“Couldn’t decide if you wanted to be like your mother or your father, huh?” Sonny wraps an arm around Niccolo’s shoulder, teasing him.

“Why can’t I be like both?” Niccolo grins up at his uncle. “I admire both of them more than I do anyone else.”

“Six years of medical school?” Connie scoffs playfully, rubbing Verona’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry honey, it’ll pass by with ease! And you’ll still come to visit us, won’t you? I’m never gonna get used to you and your brother being so far away.”

“I will, I will, don’t worry!” Verona lets out a soft laugh, embracing her aunt. “I promise I’ll be flying in for weekends and holidays for sure. You won’t miss me too much.”

Only ten minutes more of discomfort and insisting pressure pass until you realize something’s beginning to trickle down your leg.

Furrowing your brows, you gasp and practically jump out of your chair to realize the odorless and clear liquid beginning to drip down your legs is your water breaking.

“Oh no,” you groan, grunting out in pain to feel it accompanied almost immediately by the first wave of contractions.

Refusing to walk back inside in front of your whole family and rather knowing now five pregnancies in that a single wave of contractions doesn’t warrant an immediate panic, you’re quick to carefully make your way around the side of the villa and back inside through a side door.

Keeping quiet, you cautiously make your way up the spiral staircase and down the hallway towards your bedroom.

While the hustle and bustle of the party continues, you’re able to shut the bedroom door behind you and move towards the telephone.

You dial Doctor Katherine’s number before hanging up almost immediately, knowing one ring is enough to signal you need medical assistance when she’s in the estate with the rest of your family too.

“Darling, did you—” Michael looks over his shoulder in confusion, about to ask if you’ve returned with your photography camera yet after ten minutes only to not be able to find you amidst the crowd.

“Where’d mama go?” Verona peeps up, looking around for herself. “We can’t take the photographs without her!”

“That’s what I’m wondering.” Michael mutters, rubbing his temples out of stress knowing he’s worried for you at the late stage of your pregnancy to just be away from the family and out of his sight with the discomfort you already have.

"Uh oh, mama's missing." James frowns, glancing at Vincent. "Again."

“Again?” Michael raises his brows at his son, overhearing the conversation.

Niccolo speaks up, “maybe she needed a break—”

“Maybe you should have been paying more attention!” Verona huffs, snatching the champagne glass out of his hand.

“I didn’t see mama last!” Vincent protests. “She was right next to me then, poof—disappeared!”

“Hey, seriously?” Niccolo rolls his eyes at Verona. “You’re gonna blame me for this? Come on. Knowing mom, she probably walked all the way back to New York for a breath of fresh air.”

“That’s not entirely impossible.” Michael sarcastically comments, “how many times have I told you two in specific—being the eldest—not to lose sight of your mother?”

“Not my fault, daddy!” Vincent pouts.

“Vincent, when did I ever say it was your fault?” Michael blinks at his son.

Vincent smiles back happily at his father. “I wanna help find mama like everyone else.”

“So many eyes on her and yet not one bothering to watch her.” Michael sighs out of annoyance, gesturing for the children to follow. “Come, unless I’m very wrong I know she’ll be upstairs and she has no reason to be.”

“Do we need to take her to the hospital?” Verona frowns, beginning to follow after her father with her brothers. “She’s that close to the delivery date and much more uncomfortable than before, dad.”

“I was thinking the same but she refuses to let me worry about her at all.” Michael smoothens out the sides of his hair, heading up the staircase. “In any case, we may just need to get a doctor to check up on her.” Michael clears his throat, approaching the bedroom. “Victoria?”

Taking in deep, calm breaths one at a time, you clutch onto your baby bump while sitting on the edge of the bed and fighting through your contractions.

“Victoria?” Michael can hear the sounds of panting as he eyes his children, giving a universal ‘give-us-some-privacy-please’ before he enters the bedroom.

The twins, Vincent and James all step back and remain at an appropriate distance to the bedroom as Michael pushes open the door.

“I c-called,” you breathe out, pointing to the telephone. “It’s okay, Doctor Katherine’s coming.”

Michael barely registers anything you’ve just said to him. Instead, his eyes fall to your chest—seeing how heavily you’re breathing, the sweat beginning to form on your forehead, and now with your water breaking—the stream of clear liquid leaking down your legs uncontrollable.

“No, it’s not okay.” Michael presses his lips together—worry crossing his eyes. “We’re getting you to a hospital, Victoria. Now.”

“Michael,” you shake your head at him, pointing down to your trembling and weak knees. “I-I’m not going to be going anywhere.”

From the moment that Doctor Katherine arrives, there’s already a unanimous decision that two things are going to occur: one, that the children will return back to their party and preoccupy family so none even have the time to question where Michael and Victoria are and two, Victoria’s going to be giving birth at home with the full assistance of Doctor Katherine and Michael.

The only thing that eases some of Michael’s worry is the fact that the bedroom walls are almost entirely soundproof at the villa; as if Michael kneeling down next to you to keep you comfortable while you’re screaming and pushing out your baby isn’t already driving him mad with worry and stress.

“We should have taken her to a hospital,” Michael glares at Dr. Katherine, squeezing your hand. “She’s in pain.”

“Urghhhh!” You grunt out, “h-hurts! It hurts!”

“She’s giving birth, Mr. Corleone.” Dr. Katherine clarifies, keeping your legs spread and noting the dilation level. “You may not have been present the last four times but the screams are no different than now.”

“That doesn’t help at all.” Michael sighs, looking down at you in worry.

“Michael,” you let out a shaky breath, giving your husband an annoyed look. “You’re more worried than I am—ahhh! Ugh, I should be the one freaking out and—ahhhhhhhh!” You shriek again, feeling the baby pushing outward. “Just keep holding my hand!”

“Right, right.” Completely clueless about childbirth, all Michael can do is sit on the edge of the bed by your side amidst internal nervousness as Dr. Katherine assists you.

“I can see her head already, Mrs. Corleone...” Dr. Katherine smiles up at you, keeping a towel covering your legs. “You’re doing fantastic.”

“Ahem—” Michael exchanges a glance with Dr. Katherine, obviously having no idea what’s actually going on with the birth from where he’s sitting and the towel covering you.

“It’s best you don’t see just yet, Mr. Corleone.” Dr. Katherine advises, extending her hand out. “Could you please pass me another clean towel?”

Michael reaches off the pile he had brought out from the bathroom and hands Dr. Katherine one before pulling the towel from underneath you, noticing some blood stains over it.

“Michael—just give me your hand!” You groan, swatting the towel out of his hand.

“She’s bleeding?!” Michael’s panicked eyes look towards Dr. Katherine.

“Of course she is.” Dr. Katherine nods, encouraging you to keep pushing. “Bit more, Mrs. Corleone. Keep pushing and don’t relent.”

“Let me get her another one—” Michael reaches into the towel pile and while grabbing a longer one out, he accidentally tugs a bit too hard and causes the towel to fly on top of you.

“You’re suffocating me and the baby already!” You squeal, laughing weakly through your contractions. “T-the baby’s not going to be happy with you, Michael.”

“She’s definitely not going to be impressed with me is all.” Michael mutters under his breath, taking the towel off of you and carefully inching it underneath your thighs. “Why exactly is my wife bleeding?”

“It’s all coming from the cervix, Mr. Corleone.” Dr. Katherine chuckles, amused by Michael’s questions knowing he has his best interests and intentions in mind to be there for you and make sure you’re comfortable above all. “Very normal during labor and you’ll see after the birth…ah! Go on, Mrs. Corleone! Give one big push! BIG PUSH!”

Michael’s eyes immediately dart back down to you as he kisses your knuckles; your hand still intertwined with his.

“I’m—” You groan out loudly, gritting your teeth from the pain. “P-pushing! Pushing…!”

“She’s coming, she’s coming! Keep pushing, Mrs. Corleone! The baby’s head is out!” Dr. Katherine urges. “Almost there! You’re doing so well!”

You make eye contact with Michael through happy tears, sniffling and giggling at the permanent confused and panicked look over your husband’s face.

“Ah!” You let out a final cry, exhaling deeply in relief as Dr. Katherine reaches her hands beneath the towel and beams, carefully grasping the baby. “Oh my Goddddd,” you whimper, bursting into tears.

Michael’s eye slight up to hear the sounds of a little baby crying and sees little baby Maria’s hand flailing in the air as Dr. Katherine moves her away from the towel.

“There is she, Mr. and Mrs. Corleone!” Dr. Katherine cautiously snips the umbilical cord before wrapping up the the newborn baby girl in a towel and carefully handing her to you.

“My God,” you hiccup throughout your tears, snuggling the little baby up to your breast. “M-Michael, look at her.”

“There she is…” A warm smile forms over Michael’s lips as he leans over to see his daughter cuddled up in your arms. “Our baby.”

“A healthy baby girl.” Dr. Katherine happily notes. “Congratulations, little miss Maria is here a little earlier than expected but it looks like she couldn’t miss her older brother and sister’s celebration for the world.”

“I guess not.” You laugh throughout your tears, gazing at Michael’s smile.

“Oh, she’s beautiful.” Michael murmurs, extending his hand to a crying Maria who snatches onto her father’s pinky finger. “Just like her mother… Our little baby Maria.”

“Born in Rome too.” You blink past your tears as you look over at your baby daughter nestled in your arms; Doctor Katherine disposing of the placenta and cleaning up the bloodied towels around you. “Aren’t you, little Maria?”

“Think she has more in common with her mother already and she’s only been here for a few minutes.” Michael brushes aside a loose strand of hair from your face, kissing your forehead gingerly. “Born at home and in Italy.”

“She’s got her own set of bragging rights already.” Dr. Katherine jokes, replacing the towels around you and monitoring for any further blood loss.

“I love her so much.” Your voice breaks as you hold back your tears. “She’s so perfect.”

“She is, baby, she is.” Michael kisses both of your cheeks, admiring little Maria who begins to calm her crying.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” Dr. Katherine says quietly, smiling and knowing she’s got something else to let your family know who’ve now all been questioning your absence.

As Dr. Katherine exists the bedroom, Michael remains leaned over next to you with his hand lovingly caressing your cheek—whispering to you in Italian. “Hai benedetto me e la nostra casa con un altro bambino, e questa volta una ragazza. Una ragazza, molto dopo Verona.” (You have blessed me and our house with another child, and this time a girl. A girl, long after Verona.)

Through tear-filled eyes, you weakly gaze up at your husband who plants soft little kisses around your cheeks, letting Maria continue to grasp onto his finger. “Ti amo, Vittoria.” (I love you, Victoria.)

#godfather au #prompts #Michael corleone #Michael corleone x reader #Michael corleone fanfic #moth to flame fanfic #michael corleone x oc #godfather x reader #not canon #moth to flame fic

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imagine-that · 4 years

Text

You silently pull yourself through the open window one foot after the other, just barely grazing the windowsill with your bare ankle.

Just as you think you’ve not only managed to get in but also managed to do so with grace, the cuff of your jeans snags on a screw by the window. You tug on your ankle desperately until somehow you pull with too much force and go tumbling to the floor.

“Damn it.” You curse under your breath as you quickly get back up to your feet.

You take a quick look around you, checking your surroundings. When all you see is pristine, perfect organization and no other people, you quickly make your way across the floor and grab the door handle carefully, opening it and slipping into the hall, shutting it back to its initial position as best you can.

You take a brisk walk down the hallway and open up another door and breath a sigh of relief when you see a massive wall filled with dozens of hats. You slip through the doorway and let your fingertips feel the brim of one, admiring the craftsmanship.

Too mesmerized, hypnotized even, you pick it up and place it on your head, though you aren’t fully certain what possessed you to do so.

“Well well. What have we here?” A voice says and you freeze in place, unsure what else you could do.

“Quite the collection you have here.” You comment, nodding to the numerous hats and trying to keep your cool.

He merely moves closer in response. “I believe this is what some would call breaking and entering. I should tell you, I know the local sheriff.” He warns, taking another slow and calculated step towards you.

“Is that supposed to scare me?” You scoff, still making no efforts to face the mystery man. “Everyone knows everyone in Storybrook, it’s kind of hard not to.” You add, smiling to yourself at the thought of not knowing basically everyone in town.

“Ah well I have a feeling she would particularly remember the man who tried to kidnap her.” He says with ease.

You whip around in alarm, the hat still perched on top of your mess of y/h/c hair and your smile fallen and find yourself being backed into a wall.

“I believe that belongs to me.” He says in a low, seductive voice with a lazy grin of his own. “Though it does appear to look much better on you.” He adds smoothly, looking you up and down with the same grin still on his face.

He moves in even closer and you back away, your back hitting the wall as his arm reaches out and he delicately plucks the hat off, settling it back onto his own head.

He slowly moves his hand back towards your face, pushing whisps of your hair behind your ear lightly, his fingertips gently grazing your jawline as he does so. He takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look right at him.

“Now, I’d like to know what kind of a person breaks into this place when I have had people who nearly died trying to get out.” He says, looking you up and down slowly with a quizzical look.

“The fact that you kidnap people doesn’t scare me psycho.” You inform him stubbornly, yanking your face away from his grasp.

He goes into a low and dark laugh, sounding even more unhinged, something you didn’t realize was possible. “I am not crazy, alright darling?” He insists, a new sharpness to his voice.

“But of course you are.” You say, crossing your arms and keeping your distance.

He jumps up in anger, grabbing a pair of scissors off the table and rushing at you, shoving you against the wall.

“I. Am not. Crazy.” He tells you, his teeth grinding together in fury.

“Alright. Maybe you’re just mad then.” You say, shrugging, you current position of extremely close proximity of no bother to you.

He looks at you in shock, taken aback. He nearly drops the shining silver scissors to the ground.

“What’d you say?” He asks quietly, a suddenly more soft expression replacing the angry one.

“I said mad. Am I right about that Hatter?” You ask with a grin of your own.

“How- what- who are you?” He demands, clearly confused.

“I’d tell you but I kind of like to introduce myself when I’m not pinned against a wall.” You respond, raising a challenging eyebrow with a smile.

He hesitantly backs away but keeps the scissors tightly in hand.

“Why thank you.” You say, taking his hat off his head and bowing with a flourish and tip of the hat before standing straight and placing it back on your own head. “Y/n’s the name.” You tell him.

“Truly a wonderful name for a wonderful person I suppose.” He says with a devilish smirk.

“Do you do that often? Change from mad to charming? It’s intriguing, truly.” You remark, leaning back against his work desk.

“Nevermind that. My name is Jefferson. Now, explain why you’re in my home?” He asks, toying with one of the unfinished hats on the table.

“Alright I suppose I could. Long story short, I’m from wonderland. I was trapped there for a long, long time. My sister wasn’t. She was off by the sea or something. Then, this curse or whatever it is happens and I end up here in Storybrook, basically knowing exactly who I am when it seems no one else does.” You explain with a tired sigh.

You’d gone over the story in your head over and over and over but you felt it seemed more crazy everytime. You feared no one but Henry would ever believe you but here you were.

“It would seem we’re in a similar situation.” He says with a small, bitter laugh. When he notices your intrigued expression, he sighs. “My daughter.... Grace... she was in the enchanted forest waiting for me to return. the evil queen fooled me and left me there for the queen of hearts to deal with.” He elaborates. You nod a bit.

“I know the queen of hearts well. She’s a certain kind of evil.” You tell him, shuddering a bit at the name.

“Don’t I know it.” He mutters. You raise an eyebrow and he pulls down the collar of his shirt without hesitation, refusing to meet your gaze. “Off with his head.” He laughs to himself as he makes his impression of the wicked queen of hearts.

You let your eyes trail the scar going all around his neck and scoff in somewhat disbelief. “She did that to you?” You ask and when he nods sullenly you feel yourself fill with all kinds of rage. “She is a cruel and heartless woman. That I definitely remember.” You growl, sneering at the mere thought of her.

“Yes true but it’s alright I lived. And besides, now I’m here and this seems much worse than having my head chopped off so at least there’s a bright side!” He says with another crazy laugh.

You feel yourself giggling a bit too, unable to help the grin spreading across your face.

“You definitely live up to the name, I’ll tell you that much.” You say with a shake of your head.

He takes a playful bow, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “I’m glad. But if you’re from wonderland, who are you? In the... stories I mean.” He asks, gritting his teeth at the word stories.

“I’m surprised you can’t tell from the smile.” You quip with a smirk.

“Ah. The Cheshire Cat then, I presume?” He asks, smirking right back as you nod.

“Didn’t you say you had a sister? Is she also a cat in the fairytale world then?” He asks curiously.

“No she isn’t. Just me. I’m almost like Ruby is in that world. She can change into a wolf involuntarily but I change into a cat whenever I want. It can be quite useful.” You explain with a small shrug.

“Ruby?” He questions and you smile in disbelief.

“Do you not leave this place ever? Never met anyone else?” You ask, fully interested in learning more about the mystery of a man in front of you.

“No, I’d rather not deal with Regina or with seeing my daughter with another family.” He informs you, looking out the window thoughtfully.

“Jefferson, it’s understandable but at some point, you have to leave to be able to get your daughter back.” You inform him and you take quick notice to the smile on his face when you say his name.

“At some point, maybe. But not now. Sorry darling.” He responds with a sad smile. “Now, why exactly did you decide to come and crawl through a second story window in my house kitten?” He asks with another grin.

You feel yourself blushing heavily at the nicknames.

“I came for a hat to get home but clearly if you had it you wouldn’t be here.” You say with a sigh.

“That is correct. I have yet to find my way home, sadly, though I suppose some may call me lucky to have a prison such as this one.” He says with another smirk as he gestures around the room for emphasis.

“Regina is a cruel, cruel woman. I do hope you’re returned to your daughter soon.” You murmur as you stand up, pulling the beautifully crafted tophat off your head.

He looks at you in a mix of surprise, confusion and sadness.

He pushes himself off the wall and saunters over to you, still watching your every movement longingly.

“And where exactly are you going? Not giving up, I hope.” He asks with an eyebrow raised.

“I’m going home.” You tell him, placing the hat into his hands. “It’s been a long day.” You add with grin.

You turn to walk away but he jumps in front of you.

“Wait, wait, wait!” He says nervously. You watch him, amused. He carefully places the hat back on your head and tips it off to the side a bit. “Much better. As I said, it suits you. And as you said, I have plenty.” He remarks as he steps back slightly, admiring the view.

You let out a laugh. “Thank you. It’s beautiful. I’ll wear it as often as possible.” You promise as you stand on your toes, placing a quick, delicate kiss on his cheek.

At first, he looks absolutely stunned. Then thrilled. Then he looks hungry for more. And he is, so you learn when he leans in and pushes his lips onto yours, desperately deepening the kiss. You follow his movements, melting into him.

He’s the first to pull away, proving to you once again that he’s unpredictable and full of tricks up his sleeves.

“To think I nearly killed you thief.” He says with a small smirk.

You feel a grin bigger than you’d ever had, even as the Cheshire Cat, spreading across your face.

“That would’ve been an absolute shame. For both of us. Especially considering I didn’t technically steal anything. Except maybe your heart of course.” You respond teasingly and he chuckles a bit.

You turn on your heel, walk towards the door and stop abruptly in the doorway.

“Oh and Jefferson?” You say, looking back at him.

“Yes y/n?” He asks, clearly a little hopeful that you’ll stay, which you find absolutely adorable.

“I’ll be back.” You promise. And then you smirk. “We have a home to get back to.” You add, blowing a kiss to him.

He grins and you grin back, tip your hat to him with a dramatic flair as you know he probably would in this situation and walk out the door.

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courtorderedcake · 4 years

Text

Roses : A CS retelling of ‘Tam Lin’ chapter 3

Hi, everyone! Thanks to @kmomof4 and the extremely talented @eastwesthomeisbest for their patience on this. As usual, thanks to @ultraluckycatnd who I would be lost without, the woman is a monster editing machine, and super beta. I live for my updates from her. Without further ado, here is my laaaaaaaaaaaate contribution to @cssns. It's been a while, hasn't it? I promise you it was worth it.Smut a'heckin'hoy! Two other things : This will be updating between MTFB and Hallow, as well as my CSMM ficlet. It also gained another chapter. Secondly, this chapter is MASSIVE. I tried to cut it down but it just didn't work right unless it was altogether. I promise you the smut fest was worth it.

Read on Ao3 right here, darlings!

Chapter 1/5 Chapter 2/5 Chapter 3/5

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The Soldier is feverish, when he falls upon the land of Carterhaugh. They have returned uneasily to the house, or the Lady has, her husband belongs to the forest more than she does. Her son teeters between both worlds, and with nothing to mother or care for, The Soldier becomes a welcomed friend. As he heals, and The Lady finds herself in his warm company, he becomes more. He learns how to tend to the Gardens with The Lady. She teaches him to talk to the birds, to sing to the plants, how to keep things green and blooming, and eventually how to touch them to illicit responses.

Eventually, he learns how to touch her, as well.

The Lady does not age, and as more war looms on the horizon, The Soldier finds he has only aged slightly. Where he should be gray, he has retained his youthful glow. When he asks, The Lady admits the truth about her family.

She tells The Soldier, about her son, about the Lord of the Wood, and about herself, The Lady of Carterhaugh. She begs him to come with her, to let another war rage on in the outside world, and to give himself to them. She asks him to join their dance, but not as a dancer, as a player with a role. She asks him to keep her tied to the earth, to the green that lives outside the darkness in the wood. To remind her of what she was leaving.

And The Soldier agrees. How can he refuse her?

It is his fault when she fades, no matter how much he tries. It is his fault that she is gone, and still remains.

His banishment is blessing and curse. Even still, when he hears the bells, he must answer the summons.

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Two weeks Earlier...

Killian has never liked the forest.

It's not for a lack of trying, and there is a level of bias involved, he will admit. A more honest statement is that Killian has never liked this forest, this particular forest down the hill from Carterhaugh. This accursed, twisted, blight on the land; sitting just close enough to the sea for it to have caught him in its gnarled fingers. For it to have caught them. For it to have changed Milah so much that imagining being a 'them' feels a lifetime ago.

Killian could remember her voice before it became cold and empty. He'd noticed their change, his ears pointing slightly the longer he stayed in her palace chambers, his canines becoming slightly sharper the more he ate of their food, his thoughts becoming colder and emotions numbing. The strange way time passed, and his promises to himself that he would contact Liam the next day, sending word once and then forgetting. It wasn’t him.

He tries to process these changes when a description of war to the Lordling makes Baelfire smile in wonder, an eerie and unsettling gleam there at the words of how many lay dead in trenches. It does not work then, or later. It's not as bad as the secret of their youth settling in his gut. Close, but not enough to end the longing for the taste of his beloved's neck.

There are more times than not he thanks the stars he is banished, even if banishment as an immortal is cursed and tedious work (or was), because what would he be now if he had stayed? The same sort of creature who lets mortals throw themselves at their feet for sacrifice?

Milah had reasoned with him that at least it was willingly, that at least Rumplestiltskin let them choose a life of bliss if they came, and it gave them a way out of the terrible situations they came from. Killian wasn't sure, the humans coming through looking too sick, starved, empty, or adrift to seem actively aware of their decision.

He'd accepted it numbly, even as his Milah had hurt him and others in affection. Her eyes had become sharp and cooled to a tawny color, hair flowing with invisible wind blown tentacles, cheekbones too sharp, skin too pale, nails too long, ears pointed and stretched. She no longer tasted like rum and lavender tarts, but of copper and earth. Her love making left him raw and scarred, and he'd tried to not drown in her tempestuous moods, clinging to his acceptance by her. Even when she had forced his want against his will, balking at his shame, he tried. When it became something she forced from him without mercy and in cruel humor, he retreated into himself.

Baelfire's disappearance and the note he left behind had been a mercy. When Killian’s head had cleared in the empty halls, Liam was long dead, and the Jones family long gone. He could return to Milah and beg for her forgiveness and her love, but without Baelfire that was never going to happen. He would instead be signed away with the house until Baelfire returned.

But Baelfire is not returning. Baelfire is never returning. Baelfire is lost, because if he isn't, Emma could not be there with the key in her hand.

Emma is there instead, and Killian will stop at nothing to keep her safe. He would never let her be lured to them, had taken great strides to consecrate the grounds, and had fiercely guarded her so many nights when he heard their songs call from down the hillside. It is the bells that he can't ignore, while everything else that had once been wondrously alluring now falls flat.

"You're in for it now," an amused voice calls from the wood as he steps past the threshold. The Green Fairy is there, her smiling face unlike her cousins that now dwell in what she claims was once her people's lands. No one knows what is true other than the King, and he surely isn't going to reveal anything of value. Thus, The Green Fairy torments who she calls the false denizens, wreaking havoc just for the fun of it. "She's in a mood today, the wind brought down strange tidings when it whistled through. She believes that you have let an imposter into her dominion, banished one."

Killian laughs at that, bitterly. "Are you sure it's me she's angry at?" He asks, pointing to her satchel, the huge blooms of crystalline flowers from the royal gardens barely hidden under the leather flap.

She smiles coyly, batting her eyelashes. "You didn't see me, and I didn't warn you?"

"Fair enough." He grunts, and she slips away with a wave.

She navigates the forest supernaturally, disappearing somewhere they cannot follow, in between trees, behind tall stones, more than once offering him escape with the caveat of being unable to return. At one point he had sought her for comfort, his despair at banishment leaving her pitying, even after she professed dislike of males in most species. She had given him her name, Tinkerbell, and he had tried not to laugh or offend her but failed miserably. Despite all of her kindness, she was quick to anger, and no longer ventured close to the house.

Twigs broke as another creature approached, this time someone unwelcome and familiar. He was close to the castle now, the trees and mossy floor moving around him, drawing him in as they shifted.

"Look who thinks he can come into our domain as he pleases!" a voice called, a Faery named Regina giggled, appearing by his side and slipping her elbow through his. Her long, deep red talons brushed against his sleeve.

"I have an announcement for the Queen that involves sensitive news."

Another giggling voice, this time like an ooze that made Killian feel uncomfortable and unclean. "Oh? Do you Dearie?" Rumplestiltskin drawled, a chair with him sprawled in it materializing in the gloom, the palace springing up around Killian. "What have you to tell my queen?"

Milah sat in the throne next to her scaled husband, her expression reading nothing but boredom.

Killian cleared his throat as the court appeared in different puffs of smoke, anxiety heavy on his shoulders. "Your Majesties, this may be a private matter -"

Rumplestiltskin laughed at that, and Milah stiffened in anger. "You dare tell us what our court is fit to hear -"

"Quiet yourself," Milah hissed, interrupting her husband's mocking. "Is this in regards to our son?"

Rumplestiltskin's face paled as Killian nodded once, Milah giving a thunderous clap of her hands. The palace moved around them again, Milah plucking silver flowers from trees to put in a basket.

"Tell us how he fares, and if he was well met! When will he return?" Milah exclaimed, and Killian let his heart ache for the woman she had once been. He steeled himself, Rumplestiltskin's demeanor ashy and nervous. Killian briefly wondered why this news would be alarming, but shook it off.

"The owner of Carterhaugh has returned, the woman who you saw before does indeed rightfully hold the key."

"That can't be right, she must have cheated or tricked him for his -"

Killian interrupted, shaking his head. "Queen Milah. She was married to a man named Neal. She has no idea who Baelfire is."

"Then we'll kill her and take the key, and when Baelfire returns -"

"I have come here to formally end our accord. I want to be with her and end my watch on the lands, as agreed, my Queen," Killian said calmly, trying not to betray his fear. Milah looked at him in shock, the silver of the room making her seem as if carved from marble, an angry goddess sent to smite errant worshippers. The force of her slap sent his head wrenching to the side, her eyes a deep black.

"You dare to spurn my gifts? You dare to ask for a reprieve from your post? And you dare to ask this of me for the foul creature who may be holding my Baelfire captive?" Milah seethed, her hand shooting out like a viper to grab his chin. "You are mine, and your punishment is befitting of how lucky you are to be mine. You should be grateful!" Killian pulled away from her as she tried to dip her tongue in his mouth, shaking her off. Her mouth tasted like cold, wet earth and sickenly sweet rosewater.

Killian felt bile rise in his throat, but swallowed it back to yell. "I want nothing from you, and will take nothing! Baelfire is -"

"Do not finish that sentence!" Milah screamed, and the world shook, dark fog again returning as trees formed from the mist. "Begone from my realm. I will call to you when I have made a decision, but for now your presence repulses me."

The fog lifted, depositing him at the beginning of the forest in the rotting clearing, his boots beginning to wet from the boggy groundwater. Taking a deep breath of air, he began the long trudge back up to Carterhaugh.

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Present day, post kiss

Sex had been a divisive and troubling prospect for Killian with the Fae court. Their psychological and physical abuse as they edged him for days, left him bleeding or bruised with no thought of soothing his skin or aftercare, and the degradation he begged not to consent to with disregard to any pleas he uttered had left him cold. In his exile, he rarely touched himself, and rarer still had any desire to do so.

The Fae world that originally poured vibrancy, milk, honey, and untold treasures had grown into something crooked that corroded and burnt any life. Even after his banishment, his exile did not return the colors they had taken, life left muted and gray.

Emma was an explosion, too bright at first for him to look at, and then a fire that he could not hope to seek refuge by. She would burn him, blind him, or he would snuff her out, let her smolder down to ash.

When she kissed him, neither happened and it was fireworks that did nothing but heat his body, light magnified. Emma was not a fire, but sunshine after too many long days of rain. She filled him with hope, illuminating the world again to push away the gray and reveal the hues he had lost.

When she fled, it was an all encompassing dread that filled him. He had realized that he was in love with her far before, but had been content for the cloudy summer days she brought him, peeking bits of color here or there to sustain him - her affection and attention like watering a withered flower.

Now it was alive, facing the sun happily, and it was like a sword through his chest when she took it away. She would leave, leave him in this house with its halls and secrets, leave him with the ghosts of the others that left. Killian texted her frantically, called her both through the door and over her cellular phone, tried to see her from his balcony, and had sat in the darkness staring at the lit screen of his own phone when no reply came. That was all the answer needed. The first bottle of wine was choked down in the kitchen, a bottle of cheap cabernet meant for cooking. He had asked Emma for it, had asked her for everything really, to cook meals they could share together. Eating alone, drinking alone - how could he go back?

The buried bottle of whiskey in the solarium was meant to be for Baelfire's return, but Baelfire would never return now that Emma was here with the key. He was gone, lost somewhere in the human world. If Killian had asked to pursue the lost boy's trail, if he hadn't waited in this tomb of a house, would things be different? The whiskey is smoky, a burn of fire inside him that licks his insides along with his self hatred. There is nothing more in him besides regret. Regret for not saving Baelfire, for letting Milah transform into the monstrosity she had become, and for Emma - everything he touched turned to dust. He was poison.

The emerald bloom of a flower he doesn't recognize is blurred in his drunken vision, but the thorns are sharp enough to make him curse as he bleeds over the strange petals. Even the solarium rejects him, his laugh bubbling out despite his hatred of everything around him.

Wandering the halls with another bottle in hand, he can't remember where this one was stashed. It's an old bordeaux that is wasted on him and dropped carelessly in the hall, probably hidden by Milah for some celebration - there were too many nooks and crannies in Carterhaugh stuffed with something, be it drink, memories, or ghosts like himself - it's not hard to imagine being as dead as he feels himself longing to be. Milah had warned him of this fate, her heel on his throat as he gasped for air.

"There is no escape from us for you Killian. Accept this. You are mine."

She had beat him bloody, used him until he felt hollowed out, carved clean of any kind of emotion. Breaking him took time, and she had more than enough of it. Depositing him at Carterhaugh in banishment at the end of her torture had been the hardest withdrawal he had faced until now, imagining Emma leaving him here when he had done all he could to heal. Maybe he deserved this hell; after all, the Fae were a form of damnation.

This torture was the worst and most effective the devils could have used. He was left blind now, her light too much up close, left to wander in the dark for his attempts to see her. In a room he doesn't immediately recognize as he stumbles through the door, there is a cool armoire that lets him crawl in like a beaten dog, the moth eaten linens inside serving as a soft cocoon around him. It's blissfully dark and enclosed, a coffin for the phantom he is. He should not accept becoming a ghost again, but in truth he should not have accepted a lot of things.

It might be best if he cut out his heart and buried the burden of it in the garden after all; to be blind, heartless, and complete his own transformation into the damned spirit of Carterhaugh. Maybe then the next owner might have pity for him, and he could forget about the losses that make his chest ache.

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The quiet stillness that settled over Carterhaugh when Emma padded to the kitchen was oppressive, the smallest movements tensed as if she were a thief in her own house. It felt wrong to be here, the change in atmosphere reminding her of when she had squatted in a museum's unfinished exhibit space for a few weeks, the edge of always being caught like a predator she knew lay just outside her peripheral vision. The difference was that she had caused this change, brought it upon herself by being careless and selfish and naive. He was gone. The absence of another presence was like a vacuum, and it sucked the life she had worked so hard to put back into the giant house without mercy.

No, that wasn't quite right. She was a ghost in this house because it was him she rebuffed. Others could come and go, but it was Killian who had actually made her feel like the building had a soul.

Touches of him were everywhere, even in her own decisions. She spent breakfast wrapped up in one such choice, his preferred coffee mug warming her hand under his preferred blanket that smelled like him. There was no one here to judge her if she wrapped herself in what was gone, or cried bitterly into her drink. There was only her. Only Emma, lost girl, left again and again.

Lunch rolled around faster than she could have anticipated, watching windows as she tried to convince herself to do anything but look for signs of him. His room was unslept in, bed made and tidy. It struck her as so entirely him, the lines of the crisp sheets creased with care, and she laughed out a strangled noise. He had cared about her, and she should have told him that he was cared for too. Laying in his bed, wrinkling the smoothed linens and holding his pillow tightly as she curled around it, her heart ached with unsaid admissions.

When he came back, she would tell him. Emma willed herself to have courage and take a leap of faith just this once, to trust that he would come back. He had to come back, and when he did, he would have to let her tell him the truth.

A spiteful voice slithered in her ear, its words making her lungs constrict.

He doesn't have to forgive you for pushing him away.

You don't deserve it.

Emma was tired of not deserving what she so desperately wanted. She had wanted a family, friends, safety, a roof over her head, trust, and love for so long. Fighting for those things after being let go from foster homes, after living in abandoned places, after the house with too many doors that haunted her nightmares, after Neal's destruction of her trust, after her forced committal and subsequent release, after making a family and making friends who she knew cared - Killian could be something new if she just let him in to try.

He had proven himself worth it time and time again even before her kiss, a kiss she now dreamt of in his bed. She could hear him, his mumbled and worried voice full of concern he shouldn't have over her, wetness drenching her cheeks from tears cried into his pillow.

Time is a wheel, and it turns and turns and spins and whirls as it pulls Emma along with it. It's as if her eyes are covered in gauze, her smile feels forced but she also craves having her lips upturned for him. When she is alone, completely and blissfully alone, she examines the confines of the ring that surrounds her. In the silence, there's clarity. Emma breaks it with whispered words she repeats to herself. The feel of them on her lips gives her hope, as if she can beat whatever this is by practicing the magic words that she longs to say.

'No.'

At one time, he had told her with his grin (too sharp, she can see it now, his teeth are sharpened and too white) that people knew better than to say no to him. She had done so with correction (he had called it correction when his hand met her face, or torso, or wherever he could reach with the open palm, then closed fist) and then by choice, not realizing what she had given away. First her name, then accepting all of his hospitality, giving him the power of her voice and will, and then letting him lure her into his ring completely. It glittered on her finger, too bright, overwhelming in its gaudiness. It's a wonder that she hadn't known and hadn't seen it behind the glamor.

Emma wonders idly if this is madness, if she's gone insane or broken to a mental fracture. Every time she sees him now in his true form (with the long fingers, the hair that moves sometimes as if in an invisible wind, his pointed ears and sharp teeth, the cold steel eyes that seem to glow, the carved angles of his face casting deep shadow) and cannot control her actions fully or fight against his will, she fears that her mind is lost. When people that aren't made of the glittering marble look at her, do they see what she once saw? Do they see a beautiful vision of a happy couple, that seems to exist outside of reality? Are they able to see how her face strains and her fingers spasm, all in attempts to claw at her face?

She knows that Neal and his kind can see the truth, even as hard as she tries to hide it. She knows that Neal is quick to take her hand in his (too tightly, as if to break her fingers) to still the tremors. She knows that Neal will kiss her (He always tastes of wine and honey, but now there is an aftertaste of something old, something gone sour and bitter, it makes her tongue feel as if she has licked an old battery covered in wet earth) to cement her smile.

The more she tries to break free, the more he presses down to keep her under his thumb. He grips tighter, beginning to take away the freedom of her silent reprieves by never leaving her alone. Emma can hear him in the next room, hear what he is doing and can hear the other woman as the purple haired beauty watches her with amusement.

'In the olden days, they warned you mortals not to dance with us,' She purrs, her warm colored skin ice cold when she curls to take a selfie with Emma, 'Say Hi, Emma. This is for my Instagram page, TheSeaBitch - Hey unfortunate souls! Ursula here, with Emma Gold, the it girl, hit girl, socialite you all want to be! We're reminding you to come out to Atlantica to dance this Friday, first drink is free and no cover for you other it girls. Come on, dance with us!"

Ursula twists the camera, and Emma's mouth moves on its own.

"Please, come dance! I could dance forever…" Her voice sounds foreign, but as Ursula presses a button to close out the video, she giggles while changing the filter.

"Great job, Emma. Neal will love this, after he finishes with her make sure to tell him that is our next ring." Ursula's cold fingers pinch Emma's cheeks, pushing her lips out into a pout as nails dig into the skin. Emma does not wince, even as the sharp pang of it hits her. "You have truly been such a perfect little thrall. I bet you'll be the one he chooses as his first attempt now that he's ready."

Emma grins, not understanding what that means, only happy to please. Her nose begins to bleed. Ursula looks at her with a too wide grin, the noises finally stopped in the room she cannot and does not want to see into.

Neal walks out as he finishes buttoning up his pants, his shirt open and tie slung around his neck. Emma stands dutifully as he approaches, carefully smoothing down his shirt, buttoning it and tucking it in his pants, then tying his tie. She can feel his eyes on her, watching the gentle trickle of blood slide down her face. He kisses her hungrily, the taste of copper unwelcome to her even as he groans, his eyes fluttering closed. From behind him, Emma watches the woman leave through the door, looking confused and dazed while she adjusts her skirt, Neal still pushing his tongue down her throat.

'I didn't want to do that, Em.' He whispered in her ear. She pulled off his lap in the car, adjusting her dress and then attending to cleaning him. 'I had a deal I needed to take care of, that's all. You're special. I know you are struggling with this, but I am keeping my promise to you - we are going to run away together, have a family, live in happiness. I just need to get things in order to make sure it's perfect.'

Emma stares, looking at him carefully. The air in the car shifts, as if a gust of wind has forced past the partition or closed windows.

'I don't want this Neal, I don't know what you've done to me, or how, but I don't want -'

The sleepy feeling of comfort rises again, a smile creeping up her face. Her head is so heavy, and Emma lays it in his lap as he strokes her hair, curling it around his fingers with a kind smile. He is so good to her, isn't he? So wonderful…

It echoes, again and again, how much she loves him, and how wonderful it is to be loved by him. How grateful she should be. He takes her shopping, her previous dress wet and stained, dressing her like a doll until she's perfect to stand at his arm.

They dance at Atlantica, the bright colors of outfits and gleam of sparkling fabrics among bubbles that fall from the ceiling makes Emma feel as if they are underwater.

(Part of her feels as if she is drowning)

Ariel and Ruby come, they appear as if they are parting the sea with their presence. Emma tries to tell them to flee with her slow blinking and blurry gaze. They don't. Neal is delighted when they dance with them, and when they drink. Emma watches them spin in circles while her feet step in choreography she can't control.

That night he presents her with the emeralds, the circle cut necklace, the bracelets, the earrings - the green so bright it seems as if it's a growing plant. Emma holds it in her palm, feeling it pulse, feeling it dig into her hand as if it wants to fuse with her skin. It whispers, and Neal whispers with it.

(It says, 'I am the ring of green mantle, I am the double rose with biting thorns!

I am the wands and I am the maidenhead!

I am everything that takes root, that will snap, and that will break forth!')

(Neal says, 'I'm ready. Let me show you the dark wonders, and the many terrible things. Let me have all of you. Let me have you, give me life from you, and from me.

Let me take you to what will be our home.')

(It sits heavy on her chest, just below her clavicle and between her breasts, whispering without pause. It is clear what it wants, it is clear what he wants, and Emma will not give him this. The whispers curl like worms, they crawl over her and make her itch. It laughs at her when she thinks about contraception, cackles when she thinks about her birth control pills taken religiously when Neal sleeps.

It tells her they won't work. It tells her that she should be happy. )

Neal takes her hand, and they step out of his car. It's different, less ostentatious, the neighborhood they are in is dark. The house looks shabby, a window boarded up and a wilted chain link fence covered in rust so foreign to her now, it pushes a memory of who she used to be up from the depths of her mind. She was on streets like these before. She fought. She punched back, made her own fate. No fairy godmother's, no fairies at all. No one saved her except her.

Rage prickles down her spine, sweat beading at the nape of her neck.

Ariel and Ruby step out of the car behind her. They look tired, almost asleep on their feet, but with happy smiles that make them look drunk. Emma knows they aren't drunk.

They stepped inside the house, it's dark wood paneling smelling like cigarettes and dust, the linoleum as they walked into the kitchen peeling. The cupboards are crooked and an old fridge hums when they turn beside it to go down to the basement. The wood stairs squeak under their steps, until her foot connects with white stone. They walked further, until Emma first sees the house for what it is - The house with too many doors.

Neal twirled her, laughing, and through opened doors she sees the shivering women with their blank stares. He spins her into him, and she feels the press of him against her, his breath on her neck. Her fingers curl closed, nails biting into her palms as she tenses. Neal rocks her, slowing as he turns her to look at him with confusion.

"We're finally ready. You're ready, and I," His grin infectious. It made her stomach turn. "I found you. You are so beautiful. You are so perfect for this. I made you, and you will make for me, in turn."

The rage under her skin heated to fury. No one has made her anything, and she is not this. She is not owned. She will never be owned. She isn't nothing. She has never been nothing!

She is Emma Swan, and she is not about to be shackled into this prison.

"You're… Why aren't you smiling, Emma?" He asked.

Emma blinked, touching her face. She wasn't smiling. She was frowning. Her eyes narrowed, watching Ruby and Ariel shuffle into a room. Neal touched her cheek, pushing her gaze back to him.

"Emma," Neal gritted out, his face contorted in fury. "Why aren't you smiling?"

Emma didn't answer, her hand gripping the emerald necklace by its whispering pendant and jerking it off of her neck with as much force as she could. It shrieked at her, she was sure she heard it scream, heard the cry of it like some horrid changeling infant.

She ran, ran to the steps, Neal on her heels just behind her. He caught her ankle and yanked, they fought on the stairs as she kicked at him. Her fingers dragged along the wood, splintering the boards. Another strong pull and her head landed hard on the cool rock, dizziness taking over, Neal looming above her as darkness began to bloom in her eyes.

'Oh, Emma.' Neal said with a nauseating fake tone of concern. "What ever shall I do with you?"

Emma tried to turn her head, tried to turn away from him, but she couldn't move as he dragged her.

"Emma. Oh, Emma." He tutted, her hair wet against the stone, her fingers tracing the trail that followed behind her. "Emma, Emma, Emma." He sighed.

"Emma," it was sighed, more exasperated now, but so much gentler. "Swan, you need to get up."

Emma blinked awake with a deep gulp of breath, sitting up to find a red eyed and bleary looking Killian watching her on the edge of his bed. He looked as terrible as she felt, which should not have made her heart warm as it did.

"You're here? You're back?" Emma whispered, and his sad smile at her brought more tears to her eyes.

"I didn't leave. I got a bit…" He blushed, sheepishly scratching behind his ear. "I got a lot drunk, and ended the night sleeping in another room. A closet, actually. I just woke up."

"A closet?" Emma asked, trying her hardest not to laugh, even as her eyes misted.

He chuckled nervously. "An armoire, actually, if we're being technical."

"Semantics," Emma teased, gently, an awkward silence following the way they fell back into easy conversation. Swallowing hard, Emma scooted over to his side. "Look, Killian, I -"

"It's alright, Swan. I overstepped, and I need to put my feelings for you aside." He shrugged, even as Emma gaped at him. "I shouldn't have kissed you, it was inappropriate and -"

"I kissed you, Killian. I was the one, and - Wait," She blinked, trying to clear her head. "Did you say that you have feelings for me?"

Killian nodded once, sagely. "Aye, lass. I do. I won't act on them again -"

"No!" Emma blurted, her hands finding his. "I want - No. I have them too. I don't want - I didn't want you to leave, and I thought you -" She paused, and he gently stroked her knuckles in encouragement as she met his penetrating gaze. "I've been abandoned so often. I was scared to let you in, to feel all of this so strongly, but thinking you left…"

"If you'll have me, darling," Killian whispered, his arm moving to bring her into his embrace, "You have no reason to fear I'd ever leave your side."

Emma laughed, happiness and a sense of joy flooding her veins as she looked up at him from where he held her against his body.

"I am so sorry for freaking out. I'm sorry for -"

"Apology accepted," Killian interrupted, kissing her forehead. "You needn't have even one, You have -you had an aversion to touch, and I -"

"Can I kiss you again?" Emma asked, surprised how breathless she suddenly felt.

Killian grinned, shaking his head. "No."

"Oh," Emma let out an exhale, trying to not show her hurt. "I just thought -" Killian held up a finger to silence her, tracing it along her lips to the apple of her cheek where he cupped her face. His eyes crinkled at the edges, the blue of them light and clear of worry despite their redness. He leaned closer, licking his lips, whispering against the corner of her mouth as she gasped.

"Because, darling, this time I am kissing you, if it's alright."

Emma nodded, swallowing hard. He pressed against her, and she molded herself to him, half wondering if it was a dream as her hands curled behind his neck. Her tongue slipped along his bottom lip until he was moving his head to deepen the kiss, his own tongue tracing hers while she let out a moan. This seemed to spur him on, his teeth joining the exploration as he gently bit on her bottom lip, her body grinding into his with sudden need. When she returned the teasing nibble, his answering groan made her shiver while they broke away for air.

"I think," Emma panted out, smiling at Killian's darkened gaze and mussed hair. "I like this whole you kissing me thing."

"Good," Killian smirked, his mouth trailing kisses up her neck as he pushed her back to lie on his bed. "Because I am not going to stop unless I bloody well have to."

His hands roamed her body over her pajamas, her eyes falling closed in bliss when he moved to cage her body and kissed her senseless again and again.

"I've wanted this for so long, Emma," he murmured, holding her as they lay together under the covers, her head resting on his chest. "You're beautiful, and everything I could have wanted. I thought - I thought I had ruined everything -"

"Shhhh," Emma murmured, rolling herself onto his chest, her legs straddling him. She had felt the sweatpants covered heat of him against her thigh before, but now it twitched back to life underneath her where her own warmth emanated. Killian hissed, his eyes widening. "This is a happy beginning."

Leaning down and hungrily kissing him, she pulled a wrecked keening noise from his throat when her hips rolled against his. His hands clutched at her ass, and she let her own fingers wander, splaying a palm under his waistband. He gasped when her warm palm lay against his hip bone, pulling away to search her face.

"Are you - Do you want to? It's just fast -" He let out a groan when her fingers stroked down against the heated flesh of his thigh. "Say that this is alright, Emma, because we don't have to -"

She silenced him by removing her loose top and bra, his gaze raking over her body more than appreciative. "I want this, Killian. I want you, all of you."

"Then you shall have it, love." He grunted, pulling her down to press hot kisses up her neck. He sucked on an earlobe and she whimpered, heat pooling in her belly. Frantically, Emma helped him rid himself of his clothing, kissing down his chest while her clever tongue found his nipple. The kisses turned more wild and possessive as they rolled, her body ending up over his. His cock jutted proudly against his stomach when she sat on her haunches, looking him up and down. The coil in her belly felt tight already, but the idea of his considerable size in her made it burn with want.

Emma let herself go, giving in to what she so desperately desired.

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Emma sat looking at him with lust hazed eyes, the green darkened to a stormy sea glass. Her body was perfect, her breasts bare above printed shorts and some lacy garment that had matched her discarded bra. He had felt the silky softness of it when tracing her hip bones, but now as she took off the shorts covering them his breath caught at how positively sinful they looked against her creamy skin. They did little to cover her heat, and as she shimmied out of the other garment he could see how they framed the globes of her ass perfectly. The wonders of this new world did not cease to surprise him.

Killian suddenly felt self conscious, realizing that her touch was driving him mad quicker than he wished.

"It's - ah - been a while since -"

"Me too, me too, but we'll go slow." Emma tentatively licked the large vein that throbbed under his skin, sending all thought scattering.

"You don't have to -" he tried to start as she lowered herself into a position better suited for her exploration. Braced on his forearms, he watched her smile up at him teasingly, pumping him a few times with a loose grip that he rutted into slightly.

Fae women were cold and calculated when they'd joined him, Milah growing fond of pain, but this was heaven in every sense of the word. Gods above he was a fool to not see that sinful smirk and not know Emma was perfect, fucking perfect -

Licking up his length, she bobbed and he lost all thought; his head falling back as his hands gripped the sheets tight enough to make his knuckles go white. Her mouth was so warm, sucking and swirling on the head of his cock then bobbing down to his base. He wanted to buck, but resisted to stay on the sword’s edge of pleasure, only thrusting upwards when Emma's tongue danced along a sensitive ridge.

"Em - Emma -" Groaning, he pulled her up, kissing her roughly, nipping at the corners of her mouth. Her moan tasted like warm honey, tongue guiding him into a gentler and slower pace that unraveled the rest of his thinking, the pads of her fingers nimbly finding his cock again. Killian gripped her hand firmly, pulling away from her lips to chuckle darkly under her ear. "My darling, I want this to last. I want to taste every inch of you - and you're making that incredibly difficult."

Her voice was wrecked and came in small pants, much to his satisfaction. "You did say," Emma let out a little moan as his hand found its way past her navel, "You liked a challenge."

"Mmmm." Killian left wet kisses in a trail down her neck, the bite right under her collarbone causing her hips to buck, and letting his fingers slide past her pushed aside silky underwear. The fashion in the modern age had never once been of interest until now, his other hand pulling down her shorts to reveal the barely there wet fabric his fingers swiped through.

He groaned and Emma ground herself down on his fingers, with a slight gasp that made him ache for not being between her thighs already. Her walls were velvety around his fingers as they slipped in and out, curling them he could feel her neediness as he wound her up, thumb rubbing circles before withdrawing his soaked digits. Popping them in his mouth as she watched, grumbling expletives at him for leaving her so close, she whined at his groan of pleasure at her taste. For a brief moment his eyes fluttered shut, her scent and the taste of her on his tongue both too much and too little. Emma looped her own wet fingers around the base of his cock and his eyes shot back open.

Killian pressed his lips hard against hers, hungrily and frantically desperate to feel her body against his. Pulling clothing aside to help her wiggle out of those blessed, beautiful, frustrating, underwear, then she was sinking down on him and he was praying to the stars behind his eyelids that he wouldn't spill right then and there.

He thrust up in ecstasy, pressure building as she ground her hips down, so tight and wet and perfect. She was perfect, he needed -

Lurching forward, Killian pulled Emma tightly to him, hugging her close and changing the depth of his strokes.

"Killian, please!"

"Oh, my love, you have no idea how good you feel, how much I need to hear you say my name just like that. Do you want to come with me, my darling?"

"Yes!"

"Good Gods, please - Please, tell me what you need -".

Her hand led his, his fingers working her as she tensed. "Killian!" Her nails bit into his back as she moaned into the juncture of his neck, everything condensed to a fluttering tightness as his own release chased just behind hers. The hand that clawed at his back gripped him tighter reflexively while her body tried to hold him everywhere they met.

She rolled her hips, his head falling back at their last jerking movements, bodies shuddering together in embrace.

"You are bloody spectacular," Killian whispered, leaning back again carefully, cradling her against his chest with his other arm. "Magnificent."

Emma smirked. "I couldn't tell, you give absolutely no praise or direction."

"Be fair Swan, you must understand that I never thought to do this, and I never believed that you would return my feelings."

"Me either. I suppose I could settle for you though." Emma's smirk turned to a smile of bliss, a late aftershock rippling through her when she adjusted, attempting to pull away. Killian made a keening noise, eyes falling shut as he bit his lip and she rose again, just slightly in exquisite torture. She could feel his once softening member twitching inside of her still, and she moved in a slight shift again. Already sensitive from before, his thighs quivered. The Fae could be thanked for his better than average recovery, at least. Decades of their brand of torment had one silver lining.

"Emma, I - fuck."

"Your begging? That was sexy for me the first time, so let's see if we can move past this being a one time thing. I am hoping with practice, thorough practice," Emma rolled her hips in a tight circular grind, earning a string of expletives as Killian’s back arched again, "We can make it an every week thing."

Flipping her as she squealed, he slowly started to thrust into her as she moaned.

"Start small, work our way to twice a day?" he grinned ferally, withdrawing in a slow pull to push back in at a teasingly languid pace.

"Whatever you want!" Emma whimpered.

His breath was hot on the shell of her ear, fluttering starting in her belly again. "Then we probably should make sure that our form is perfect, too."

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Emma found Killian making coffee, hugging him from behind with her face pressed into his back. Nuzzling against the thin cotton shirt, her hands dipped to splay along his hip bones. He made an indecent noise between a purr and a breathy moan, turning to pull her against him in one swift motion. Hips rolling into her, he hoisted her up into his arms.

"A man can't get a moment's rest around here, Swan." He grinned as he pressed her against the wall. Kissing her roughly, and forgetting about their breakfast until the clock chimed noon.

"You are just as insatiable." Emma smiled, untangling herself from him on the floor of the library. His bark of laughter and gentle poke in her ribs brought a grin to her face, her stomach rumbling loudly against his cheek.

"I suppose I should make something for you to eat." Killian whispered, rubbing his scruff against her navel. "It's only fair when I've had seconds of my own."

She hummed, offering a hand as she stood, leading them both toward the kitchen.

Weeks passed like this, intimacy laying itself over every aspect of their routine and relationship. Emma moved into Killian's suite at some point along the way, a vanity added to the corner while her bathroom products were gently reorganized by Killian much to her chagrin.

He made it up to her with enthusiasm, his tongue making her toes curl into the sheets as she rode his face. Hearing him moan into her folds and grip her ass tightly sent her higher and higher, up into the clouds. Even more pleasure came from watching how it affected him, if she turned to watch his cock leak, or his hips twitch upwards with desperate need for friction.

When she moved to swallow him with the same abandon he gave to her clit, he practically screamed. His whimpered breaths and puffs of hot air made her clench, until he was throwing her aside, eyes wild and face a mess of her own wet slicked juices.

Emma reveled in pushing him into a sort of frenzy, making his eyes go almost black with lust and his lips curl into a carnal smirk while filth poured from his mouth - with slight pushing Killian seemed to forget the prim and shy gardener in favor of becoming wild, animalistic. The things he whispered in her ear, as he licked up her thigh, in the soft nuzzle of one of her breasts; they could be soft and flowery, or erotic wishes that made her cheeks flame and heat lick her core.

Nowhere in Carterhaugh was too sacred to keep them from each other.

In the music room, light streamed in as the curtains lazily danced in a chilled breeze, Killian's hands threaded in the halo of her hair, setting a rhythm as he thrust up. His thighs spread further, shakily, while his other hand grappled at piano keys, playing a loud accompaniment for his groans as she bobbed her head and sucked him within an inch of his life. Feeling him send a rush of his hot cum down her throat while chanting her name made her feel pride, his protests at her interrupting a practice forgotten by both.

His hands felt amazing on her skin; the rough calluses from his hard work in the garden circling her nipple, while his soft lips followed behind could practically make her come on the spot. Emma would catch him watching her through the haze of their fucking, half lidded eyes looking up at her while he let his nose lead a trail for his lips to follow. She loved the way his palms kneaded her thighs, or pulled her up roughly, or splayed on the small of her back when he took her from behind. In the solarium he draped himself over her body in a possessiveness she hadn't ever known, torturously grinding against her to turn her into a writhing mess. Killian had chuckled into her shoulder when she had begun to whine in her throat, his hands gathering hers in a stretching thrust that made her see stars.

The way he mapped her body, admitting his memorization to her earnestly, his fingers stroking lazy patterns through the sheen of sweat on her stomach - it should have terrified her. She should be running, should know better than to stay and let someone pull down her barriers with not only sex, but with every part of their presence.

A snow storm moved in outside, both of them knowing the other well enough to know the edge it brought to their nerves. Killian made tea, while Emma chose a movie and created their blanket fort over the couches in the den. They lit candles together, the power going out as it always seemed to in heavy rains, but it was fine when they were snuggled together with warm mugs watching the screen of her laptop. Or, in Killian's case, watching her. The mugs were pushed aside, going cold while the movie played for no audience, the two preoccupied by their own rising needs.

His hands held her bouncing breasts, massaging them as she rode him with a deep circular grind that made both of them feel electric.

"God's above, oh - oh my darling - do you know how good it feels to have your sweet quim tight around my cock? You're going to make me come undone my love, please don't stop!"

Emma was being lit, flickering herself, wanting nothing more than to combust. "Close, close again, ah! Ah - Killian, I'm so so close -"

With a hiss, he moved to be above her and she lost the heat of him inside for the briefest moment before he was filling her again. He looked unearthly in the candlelight and occasional flicker of electricity, his chest hair against her nipples and the softness of the blanket underneath her a perfect combination.

"I can feel you, I want to feel you come - bloody hell , love, I - fall apart for me, fall for me, just like that," The hoarse whispers echoed through the room, the cords in his neck as strained as the groans tearing from his throat. "Good God's, Emma , just like - fuck, just like that!"

Her body shook, muscles tightening and fluttering as a fire that burned away everything but ecstasy consumed her. She was aware of the half scream she let out, but with everything pinpointed to the pulse just below her belly, she was more conscious of Killian chasing his own release with abandon.

He grunted, the hard thrusts using her weight and his muscle to ease the fury of his pace, her legs pulled over his shoulders to hold her flush and bent. She heard him utter a string of curses, the clear sign he was close, his formality falling away. Every aftershock and subsequent clenching as her body tried to hold him earned a gasping moan practically torn from his throat.

"Fucking hells, Emma - I'm - God's Emma, you feel so bloody amazing - so fucking good, Emma, yes," The word came out with a hiss, the 's' sound long in his mouth, his eyes pressed close when her hand snaked to stroke the sensitive skin below where they were joined. She squeezed, feeling the tightening in her palm as his body drew up, the vein pulsing under her thumb. " Emma , Emma, I fuck - Fuck !"

She felt his hips stutter, heard his cry, and then he was filling her with erratic strokes. Emma attempted to soothe him, the whimpers and guttural pants sounding almost pained. Lowering her legs to wrap around him, and her arms embracing him around his neck and shoulders, she peppered his face with soft kisses while the pads of her fingers ran over the lines of his muscles. His head fell, bowing from her ministrations, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck as his weight pressed down on her.

"Am I crushing you?" he whispered after a moment.

Emma shook her head, her fingers raking through his hair. His sigh of contentment and the feeling of his eyelashes on her collarbone filled her with another sort of weight instead.

She felt safe.

Not only safe, but cherished. When had anyone ever been so tender and treated her like this? Sex aside -

(No, not sex. Not fucking. He loves you, he loves all of you : body, mind, soul and heart. You know this isn't just sex and that you can't go back - )

His lovemaking aside, Killian cared about her more than anyone she knew. His love and affection were everywhere, like dust motes in the air. Sometimes seen, sometimes not but still present, and other times catching the glints of sunshine he brought into her life, valuable and precious, like gold leaf or diamond dust.

Stranger still, was knowing that Killian knew she cared for him too. There was an understanding that they both had rough edges, they both had secrets that lurked just out of sight, neither of them wanting to examine them closely. His scars and his gentle questioning that accompanied his careful touches or the way he flinched if she moved too quickly changed their relationship for the better. Emma felt his ease afterwards grow, the worry replaced by trust. On more than one occasion Killian had mentioned in quiet mumbles that his last partner had been too rough, averting his eyes.

On more than one occasion, Emma had taken his hand in her own, whispering that she understood. When she told him he never had to be ashamed around her, he scoffed, rubbing at his eyes.

"I mean it Killian," Emma waited until he turned to look at her, his face inches from her own. His eyes were wet, the blue the color of an overcast day. "I choose to see the best in you, no matter what. Whatever you have done in the past, the acts committed by you or against you, I know who you are. You could never be the villain to me." He allowed her to kiss his cheek, and curl into his side. Emma basked in the gentle embrace as his fingers traced trails down her hip bone.

He treasured her, Emma began to believe.

She was a treasured thing, falling fast and headlong into disaster, but didn't care about the consequences when that feeling was bestowed on her so liberally.

Even if more terrifyingly, she had slowly begun to realize that she, too, treasured him.

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To say that Mary Margaret Nolan was perceptive was an understatement. David and Double Ems had been Skype calling her almost every day since they had left for Christmas, as if they were looking for something. When nothing had happened the calls had tapered off slightly, until a few days after Emma and Killian had begun whatever it was that they were doing.

It was if Emma had writing on her forehead her friend could read, her eyes scrutinizing every detail and the questions becoming pointed. Finally, Emma had gotten an invitation to a big announcement from Mary Margaret, in which Killian was invited. When Emma booted up Skype, Mary Margaret's face greeted her, but her eyes were searching for someone else.

"Where's Killian? Did he not get my invite?" She asked, the accusation clear in her question.

"Look, about that -" Emma began, but Mary Margaret shook her head, scowling. She actually looked angry to Emma's surprise.

"I cannot believe that you stupid oblivious idiots don't realize that you not only are pining for each other, but you are perfect for each other, and he is head over heels -"

"We're dating, Mary Margaret." Emma admitted, begrudgingly interrupting the tirade. Seeing the look on her friend's face, Emma groaned. "Don't make it weird, but I really like him -"

"Ha!" Mary Margaret craned her head to yell across the room. "David you owe me 20 bucks!"

"No, really? Ugh, gross," David shouted from somewhere she couldn't see.

"Invite him on camera, I want to see him! We miss him!"

"You miss him, I want to question his intentions with Emma - " David grumbled, walking past in the background.

"Does he know about…?" Mary Margaret trailed off, her eyes searching Emma's face on the screen.

"No. Kind of. He knows something happened but not the details. I haven't told him about the psych ward, the fire, and Neal." Emma chewed her lip, wondering how Killian would react to her past, her hallucinations of the house with too many doors, her paranoid delusions about her friends disappearing, the fire she thought she had caused - would he still accept her knowing that she managed an illness so severe? Would it change the way he looked at her, from adoration to that smothering gaze of pity she got from everyone else?

"Are you going to? Because if you slipped back into that psychosis -"

"Eventually." Emma said, cringing at how fast the half truth slipped off her tongue. Mary Margaret's eyebrows rose, her lips pressing together. Before she could object, Emma pointed off camera. "I'm going to go get him, please don't talk about it when I get back, OK? Please don't go all Psychologist on me, I promise I'll tell him, but on my terms and later on. I'm not ready yet."

"Oh Emma," Mary Margaret sighed, her face softening. "Of course."

"I'll be right back."

Killian was waiting for her in the kitchen, handing her a hot chocolate as they settled in the living room and loaded Skype on the television's screen.

"Hi Kill - Are you both seriously in a pillow fort?" Mary Margaret asked, leaning in to her computer so her eyebrows took up the frame. "Oh my God, that is too cute, David look at them -"

"I told them to be cool about us dating," Emma grumbled, Killian letting out a snort of laughter as he kissed her cheek.

"Hello Nolan family, thank you for the invite to this, er, announcement." He blushed, and Mary Margaret giggled again. David sat beside her, finally coming into views she backed up.

They practically glowed together, David relaxing immediately when her head rested against his shoulder. Looking at where their own mirrored image was displayed on the screen, Emma could see Killian’s loving stare, her face in a resting contented grin. She looked - they looked -

"So, this announcement. I'm sure you've probably figured it out Killian, but my sister is completely oblivious to almost everything, it seems." David snickered as Emma protested, Killian laughing along with Mary Margaret.

"I might have," Killian admitted. "Congratulations are in order, I believe?"

Emma blinked, staring at Mary Margaret and her bright smile. She glowed.

To say Emma wasn't perceptive was an understatement. Her brain clicked, but she could not push the words from her mouth in surprise.

"Double Em, you're -"

"We're pregnant!" She laughed, David kissing her as Emma stared at them in complete shock. "We did some calculations, and it looks like, um," Mary Margaret's blush deepened. "It happened very likely at Christmas, most likely -"

"You -" Emma stammered, her own face reddening. "Seriously? You guys conceived in my house?"

David laughed at her grimace, before they were all laughing. Emma found herself curling into Killian’s touch, listening to her brother and Mary Margaret's plans for what they were going to do with a nursery, and how she was feeling, how they'd found out (a fainting spell during grocery shopping, of all things), the call stretching on as they simply enjoyed each other's presence. Killian traced his fingers along her back, pulling her to him immediately once the call was over and she had shut down the television.

"Mary Margaret says David and her are sending us a gift, which I'm a bit afraid for. She mentioned to me last time that they found these garden gnomes, and David thought it might spook you because you don't like -"

"Gnomes are not traditional Fae folk, at least not here. They're bloody Scandinavian, and only go after those who smell of unwashed feet." Killian sniffed, annoyed, holding her tighter. He let out a hum of pleasure when she turned to sit in his lap, eyes half closed while he stared up at her. "You're so beautiful."

Emma giggled lightly, feeling warmth in her chest and a lightness that relaxed her further. She yawned, and he followed slightly after, both of them curling into the pillows that made up their fort.

"Hey Killian?" Emma mumbled, exhaustion catching up on her.

He replied in a slow, groggy, hum of a question.

"You think you could be happy like that with me?" The question hung in the air, and Emma wanted to regret it, to take it back as her eyelids drooped.

"I think I could be anything with you, Emma," He whispered into her hair, falling to a low murmur. Her eyes blinked close, longer and longer. "I'd be happy just like them if not more. Enough to never need to compare. Incandescently happy."

The warmth Emma had felt earlier settled on her skin as she drifted asleep in his arms.

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Happiness felt strange to Emma, no real comparison to be made in the fleeting moments that it stayed in her life. She had thought she was happy, though worry and doubt had plagued her. She had wondered why others accepted happiness as it being the end all be all; hanging their joy to hitch their wagon on. Now, she knew.

There was a slow summer laziness to happy contentment, even in the early spring chill. It was as if happiness rolled over her, laid over her in a warm blanket she only wanted to burrow deeper into. Killian was tender, sweet even, his gestures so different than she had ever known. Her one night stands or Neal's rough uses for her had never shown any level of care Killian did, even in the smallest of actions. He kissed her shoulder every morning, bringing her coffee while reading her the news in their bed. He knew how she took it with more sugar than cream, knew how she sometimes needed time to forget her nightmares, and knew without needing to be told that probing the issue was not something she wanted.

I'm his eyes, she swore she could see something akin to understanding. It was too terrifying to bring up yet, but he seemed to read her. How he figured out how she had no idea, but Emma desperately wanted to hope that maybe he would listen. Maybe he would tell her she's not insane.

Maybe he knows about the darkness, about being adrift over pitch colored seas that have no end, no fathoms of depth. Maybe he knows what it's like to ride out waves that crash and claw through daily life, as if they were ships in the night passing close now, so close. As long as she doesn't ask where they're going or what lies below they can be fine forever, but for once Emma didn't want that; Because there is something that lurks, It lurks in his eyes and warnings, something scares him that he can't say, and it's the first time she has found another lost soul. She has found someone she empathizes with, her own monsters behind locked doors bursting at the hinges. He might take comfort knowing he isn't alone.

For all she knows, he might know of houses like the one Neal took her to. He might have seen places with too many locked doors, might have had too many missing friends, coworkers, neighbors, and acquaintances, might have wished to bite his tongue off than say anything but 'No' ever again.

And as she watches, she finds herself wondering if he might be the one she'll let herself sink into, not worrying about a destination any more as she simply enjoys the peace of floating in this current, no longer afraid that there might be monsters in these depths trying to pull her under.

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Summer tore through Carterhaugh's halls in a heatwave that made Emma thankful for fans and the installation of central air. Killian didn't notice the sweltering air, but she made it clear she felt free to notice him. Where she had blushed and her eyes had shied away before, now she was free to ogle without reservations. If he made more efforts to keep her eyes on him, he could always claim coincidence.

"I noticed before too, you're not exactly stealthy, Swan." He'd grinned into her jaw, kissing softly as they finished the final window of the main rooms. The stained glass lit the room in fire hues, as if the wooden floor was licked with a visible sign of the heat. Emma had been dressing much more delectably in turn, short trousers and tops with no sleeves that showed off how defined her arms were. Occasionally they had no straps, or fell just below her breasts baring her stomach and midriff.

When they lazily made love in the shade of the tree outside, blanket on the grass, it was easy to convince her to bask naked with him in the sunlight after. Emma was a marvel, a wonder, and she was his. Everything about her was like magic, her eyes finally full of trust when she looked at him. She was his, and he knew that meant all too soon she wouldn't be.

The bells came as July rolled through, Milah summoning him down to the wood. The house was finally finished, and Emma was exhausted. They had eaten a light lunch before she had fallen asleep on the couch, lost to the world in a well deserved nap. Kissing her forehead, he rolled out of their bed to stand before the Fae Queen's judgement. Emma stirred lightly, the whisper of his name sweet as she hugged a pillow with a sigh. It bolstered him, his feet carrying him quietly down the hill under the dark sky.

He could hear the hunt before he was even more than two steps into the forest, Tink running past him, then turning to run back with a smile.

"They are in a mood today, Killian!" She laughed, greeting him with a wave as she giggled. Somewhere to his right, he heard Regina bellow, the whinnying of her steed a shriek. He sighed, shaking his head as he continued deeper. Tink pouted, walking backwards on her toes with small little hops. "Killian," She whined, "Aren't you going to ask me what I did and why -"

"Why is it every time I have to kneel before the throne, you have agitated the hornet nest that resides on it?" Killian growled. She blinked, her pout turning to shock.

"I - I'm sorry. I try to distract them, and I have to keep the forest at bay…" She mumbled, looking down.

"All you do is make them angrier!" Killian gritted out, his jaw twitching. "I don't care about the forest, I just want Emma to be safe, and you -"

Tink straightened, her shoulders tightening as she stomped toward him. "I'm trying to help you, you dense - you idiot - you cabbage brain!" She sputtered, her face going red. "The forest spreads when Milah sees you, her avarice and wraith twisting the land further. I'm trying to keep you and your mortal lover safe. I'm trying to distract them!"

Killian blinked, his mouth falling open. "I didn't -" He stammered, trying to apologize. Tink shook her head, looking to where approaching war cries grew louder.

"I have to go. Just know that I have been trying to help you and this forest since… Well, forever. Neal wasn't your fault, and Emma, she -" The hoofbeats drew closer, and Tink took a sideways step towards a copse of trees. With a flick of her wrist they curled into an arch. "This place is cursed. I wish I had the time to explain, and I wish you would come with me. I'm sorry."

She took a leap through the arch, disappearing into nothingness as the horses swept through the clearing. The wind whipped around him, mud spraying his clothes as the horses passed. Regina cackled, the shrill noise falling away into the night as they chased their tails. He pressed on, the wood shifting around him, revealing how true Tink had been. Vines with thorns the size of his hand curled around dead trunks of trees, branches stretched crookedly to claw at the sky. The grass grew in black or a deadened white, no creatures stirring or making noise. The palace shifted, leaving him at the entrance, briars and strange shivering plants that snapped dripping jaws at him.

An audience awaited him when the throne finally appeared before him, the glinting silver, diamonds, opal, and glass blinding him momentarily and the jeers of Fae deafening him. Milah sat on the throne with her legs crossed, lapis lazuli and silk dripping off her body. Gold sat beside her, his tunic and breeches seemingly made of golden thread, adorned with jewels. Neal's empty throne lay empty, a red fur lined cape draped over it.

Milah stood, taller still, her features even sharper. Her lips twisted in a sneer as he knelt, the crowd booing louder. Milah raised a hand and they grew silent.

"I've thought about your proposal, and I know that you are not telling untruths, because I cannot march to Carterhaugh and kill this usurping tart myself." She drawled, clearly annoyed.

"Milah - " The crowd jeered, but Milah swept her hand toward the crowd.

"Silence!" The room fell silent again, and she stepped down towards him. "That said, regardless of previous arrangements, I request that you end our accord."

"Thank you," Killian sighed, even if the crowd voiced their upset. "You don't know how -"

"Sign it in her death blood," The crowd cheered, and Milah grinned widely. "Then you may go free."

"No!" Killian reached for Milah as she turned away, the guards moving forward from his peripheral. Shouts and cursing echoed around them at his loud refusal. "Milah, No, I won't let you -" An apple hit him on the shoulder, raucous laughter beginning while the crowd followed suit. Rocks pelted him as he curled into himself and sat, covering his head and face. He heard Milah's calm voice hush the crowd again.

Her heels clicked on the stone, nails digging into his chin and neck to raise him up. He struggled slightly, her strength unsettling, but her eyes worse so - cold and dead.

"We need a sacrifice, Killian. Do you dare deny me that which is my right? My duty?"

He rasped, her claws pulling free. Backing away, Killian coughed until he could manage a lowly growled whisper. "You shouldn't be sacrificing anyone to that thing. It's changed you, all of you. Please. Milah, I loved you. Now my heart belongs to another and she is… She's everything."

Milah's face pulled taut in rage for a brief flicker, disappearing into an almost convincing aloof shrug. "You have swayed my choice then. It will be you."

"Mí, please -" Killian tried again, taking a step forward, but she was in front of him in a flash.

Silver tendrils of lightning moved around her, crackling in the air, her eyes and skin gleaming an emotionless metallic.

"Do not address me like we are still lovers. Like you still come to my bed, and still ask me my desires. It will be you, or it will be her. You have offered yourself as her replacement by refusing to follow my directives." The stands that held the crowd began to smolder, Fae fleeing in all directions. Killian covered his face with his arm, staring at where Milah was bathed in bright light that made the air ripple in heat. "This shall be your last year."

There was a thunderclap that made his teeth rattle, then Milah stood back in front of him, her features carefully schooled even as her chest heaved. They stared at each other, Killian seeing her for the creature she was.

"October then?" he asked. "I have until then without your games?"

"Yes." Milah answered simply, returning to lounge on her throne.

Killian nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. "Fine. That's… fine. I'll enjoy every second of that time with her."

"Enjoy it," Milah spat, the facade of boredom failing completely. "Enjoy every second with your human whore."

Killian practically ran from the woods, clambering up the hill like a madman. As soon as he stepped foot through the doors of Carterhaugh he felt the curse shift. He almost fell to his knees in relief, wanting to weep at this newfound freedom, but then Emma was flicking on the light in her bed clothes looking at him in fear.

"You were gone, and I thought - I just knew you wouldn't - but I've trusted before and…" Her voice caught, eyes widening as he stepped forward to sweep her into his arms with a spin.

They had thirteen months together. They could do anything, go anywhere, they had thirteen months -

"Are you alright then? I was so scared, I didn't know what you were doing. Did you just go for a walk or -?"

Killian pressed his lips to hers hungrily, memorizing her taste and swallowing her protests. "I just - I really desperately need to kiss you."

She gasped, her legs parting for his knee to grind against her center. "Well, I'm not complaining," Her head fell back and he sucked on her earlobe, her hips bucking against his thigh as she keened a pretty noise. "But Killian, are you certain you're alright?"

"I will be. Let me love you tonight, properly make you dinner, drink wine with you, tell you how beautiful you are in every language I can speak -"

"What has gotten into you?" Emma squeaked out. He squeezed her ass tightly, eliciting a squeal. "Killian!"

"Nothing, nothing darling. I only want to get in to you, and taste you - "

Emma pulled away from his grasp, her smirk teasing. "You said wine and a dinner?" Her stomach growled loudly and her cheeks flushed a bright red.

"I suppose that is well in order first." Killian laughed, adjusting himself and trying to calm his racing heart. Quickly tossing together a salad, Emma argued with him over health benefits until he looked it up using her lap held computer. An ad caught his eye on the side of the page, Emma leaving to grab cheese from the fridge.

The lap-top type-writing device still gave him pause, although he handled it much better now. It had helped to have the learning curve of having a bank account that did not actually hold gold or coins, and to research. Killian had made a few mistakes, but managed to figure out the complex web that made up the interred net.

They sat down to dinner together, opening a bottle of white wine that sparkled in their glasses. Everything felt new now that he was freed, as if everything around him was clean and refreshed. With no hold barred, he prepared himself, readying for the brutal shutdown Emma might give him instead. His questioning wasn't subtle, but Emma was more than oblivious to it regardless.

"If you could go anywhere, have a dream vacation or a do over of traveling you've done, where would you go?"

Emma mulled the question, chewing her salad slowly. She liked it, complaining about the greens until he'd added an unhealthy amount of cheese. It still counted as healthy enough and a win in his books.

"You know I was married, but I don't know if I told you just how bad my honeymoon was," Emma said slowly, her voice the impassive, steely, aloof tone she reserved for touchy topics. "I - I know he cheated on me, and I know he… He wasn't a good person. I just thought, well, even then I expected him to be there."

She shrugged, briskly and Killian blinked.

"What do you mean, 'be there'?" He asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

Emma pushed her fork into the greens with a stab, sliding them around the plate. "He uh, he skipped our honeymoon; the entire thing. He had to work, so I stayed in our room and did our couples activities alone." She didn't look up, even as his hand found hers and she smiled wryly, remembering. "When I got back home he told me I'd gained weight. Truly, a winner."

"Oh, love -"

"It's fine. I mean, I don't want another honeymoon, I don't - that's out of the question, but, I'd love to go back and feel what it was supposed to feel like." Laying her fork down, Emma pinched the bridge of her nose, chuckling. "All those activities I skipped, or couldn't go on, or were supposed to be romantic and were instead so lonely… I just wonder what it would be like to do those with…"

Her eyes met his, and she blushed, yanking her other hand from his to stab at her salad again.

The tickets weren't expensive, the resort covering more amenities than he could fathom. His passport and making the documents that he needed were trickier, his supply of false papers just new enough to only need minor doctoring. Driving down into town with her in tow and their suitcases squirreled away in back, he watched her fidget with the radio.

"I don't think you've ever driven me anywhere before," Emma groaned, ducking her head from sight. "Ugh, there's that crazy old lunatic. He's obsessed with our house for some reason."

The windows were fogged, but Killian could hear the man's cries as he paced on the corner.

"The Fae! The Fae are at Carterhaugh, they will take your soul and beget you with changeling child to steal your youth, your luck, your fortune! Stay away from that cursed place, stay away from the wood where nothing grows!" The man screamed, waving his hands. He began to laugh wildly, running at their car while shouting nonsense, but Killian pulled away as the light fortuitously changed.

Emma peeked out, looking around confused as they turned off the main road, and onto the turnpike.

"You said we were going to the hardware store?" She asked, and he nodded, turning up the radio as he drummed on the steering wheel with his fingers. Emma cocked her head, squinting as she looked at him. "That's… That's not a lie, but it's not the truth either. What's going on?"

Killian mimed being affronted, his hand rising to his chest. "I need to go to the Hardware store, Swan. Can't a man simply just go about his business to get a certain piece of hardware with his lady love?"

"Not when you are acting so weird about it. Where are we even going? What store do you have to go to out of town?" Emma's eyes narrowed further. "You never go out of town."

"For you I'm making an exception. It's a special part. I need it, and it's only available at this certain store." He smiled, watching her chew her lip.

They arrived at the airport, and Emma refused to get out of the car as he unloaded their luggage onto a cart.

"Nope. Nuh-uh." Her arms were crossed over her chest, her eyes slitted slivers of sea glass. He tried to hold back his laughter, but settled for a grin as he held out his hand. "I don't know what crazy idea of yours you have cooked up in your mind, but I -"

"Take a leap of faith, love. I promise you that it might be worth it," Wiggling his eyebrows and giving a wink, he watched her fight a smile. "Very worth it."

"I'll come in the lobby if you tell me -"

"I'll tell you everything on the plane Swan, but we are running behind schedule because of your stubbornness. I would hate to have to go by myself and leave you here without my presence." Her hand met his, fitting perfectly when he pulled her forward. A valet took the car, Emma trying her hardest to hide her excitement.

"On the plane?" She murmured as they moved through TSA, some sort of inspectors that roughed up his intimate places a bit too much for his liking. He produced her passport when asked, watching her eyes widen as she read the ticket. "Wait, is this what I think - oh, Killian, I appreciate it but we can't, the house -"

"Will be there when we get back, and is being watched by Widow Tremaine," He grinned, and she smiled back with a brightness that made his heart soar. "If anything gets past the threshold of Carterhaugh, that old bat will kill it thrice over."

"The garden though, and my appointments with the contractors -"

"Will be fine, and rescheduled."

"I didn't pack -"

"I packed for you. Anything else, we can get there. The Navy taught me how to pack lightly, I have half a suitcase for you to fill with whatever you like."

"This is -" Emma sputtered, unable to protest.

"This is an adventure, love," Killian pressed his lips to her temple, swaying her when she pressed into him. "Really get into, alright? This is for you. Don't freak out or worry about anything but being happy."

Shadows flickered across her face when she looked up at him, but after a moment, she broke into a smile she reserved for him.

"Alright. Let's do this."

They stepped on the plane together, and off hand in hand.

He purchased the part he needed at the store a few blocks from their resort, the lovely bit of hardware gleaming in the jeweler's hand before it was placed carefully into a plush velvet box.

Emma was waiting for him when he returned, the masseuse just finishing her work. Killian signaled for her to go, his hands taking over to knead Emma's soft skin, feeling where the sun had kissed it on their beach walks and scuba trip.

"This is truly -" Emma giggled, swatting at him when he kissed down her back while tickling just under her ribs. "This is perfect. This is everything I wanted."

"I'm glad, darling." Killian smiled, Emma pushing him aside to sit up.

"No, I mean it. This… Killian I know this has been a lot, and I'm not ready for big declarations or conversations, because I just - I can't," He met her eyes, trying to hide his longing for just that, but she continued, her hands sliding up his chest. "But with you? I want to. I want that, all of it, and not because of this or anything like it."

"Emma -"

"Because of all the small things, and maybe yes, parts of this grand gesture, but mostly because I… I want to have someone build pillow forts with me, and looks at me the way you do."

"I always knew pillow architecture would show the true mettle of my wooing a beautiful woman." Killian grinned, her gentle smack to his chest making them both laugh.

Emma's lips met his, her fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck, and if he was not completely hers before that moment, it didn't matter -

He belonged wholly and entirely to Emma Swan when they parted to breathe each other in, and after when that wasn't enough and their bodies demanded more.

Lying next to each other while his bones worked on becoming something other than jelly, Emma curled into him like a perfect fit. In the back of his mind October loomed, it's thirteen months a ticking time bomb to this heaven on earth.

"Hey, Killian?" She murmured into his chest. He glanced down, her half lidded gaze soft as he held her.

"Hm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Emma."

Holding Emma even tighter to him, he savored every single second they had.

#Courtorderedcake #September #2020 #September 12th 2020 #Captain swan #captain swan au #captain swan fanfiction #Cssns #12th

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axwalker · 4 years

Text

The Trade 12

Synopsis: Liam is running for Cordonia’s presidency. To assure his victory, Constantine makes an arraignment behind his back for him to marry the rich ambassador’s daughter: Alexis O’Brien. Due to her father’s threats, she has no other option than to seduce Liam Rhys. But what happens when she falls in love with his best friend? (AU)

Pairings: DrakexMC

Warnings: I love drama and chaos so this will probably get a bit dark. In this chapter there is mention of rape, if you get triggered by this issue, don’t hesitate to send me a message and I’ll be glad to explain what happens without reading it. A lot of angst and heartbreak

Please note that this is my first series and English is not my first language. I really love ALL kinds of feedback. Don’t hesitate to comment!

Disclaimer: Some of the dialogues and settings as well as most of the characters belong to Pixelberry (except for Alexis O’Brien and her evil father George O’Brien JR).

To catch up: Masterlist

Thanks to @pedudley my awesome beta reader, your comments and encouragement mean so much. And of course, to @mskaneko for this beautiful mood board, and all the other great edits and mood boards 💕💕 Love you girls!!

Kiara being Kiara speaks a bit of French in this episode the translations are at the end of the chapter.

WE’RE ALMOST AT THE END!!

@burnsoslow @mskaneko @drxkewalker @pedudley @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @pug-bitch @lauzales @desireepow-1986 @yukinagato2012 @kingliam2019 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @debramcg1106 @speedyoperarascalparty @drakewalker04 @ac27dj @ravenpuff02 @msjr0119 @texaskitten30 @loveellamae

Liam was sitting in the living room, with a scotch in his hand when Maxwell and Alexis arrived.

“Alexis, thank god you are alright. I was worr-“ he stopped himself noticing that she had been crying. “Love, I’m sorry I made you cry. Please, believe it wasn’t my intention.”

He took a step towards her, but she raised her hand, stopping him, she felt emotionally drained. “That’s not the reason I’m crying.” She stared at him “However, I do want you to think very thoroughly about the kind of wife you want because I won’t limit myself to bear your children and smile prettily at your meetings. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m very tired, we’ll talk tomorrow. Good night, Max.” she gave Maxwell a kiss on his cheek and waved at his fiancé “Good night, Liam”

Liam was about to follow her, but Maxwell grabbed his arm. Alexis had told him everything about Abigail on the ride back and he knew she needed time alone.

“Li! Can I give you some unsolicited advice?” The blond man looked at him expectantly. “Give her some space. Let her breathe, man. You’ll talk tomorrow “

Liam nodded and left the room to go bed.

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Drake was twelve years old when he arrived at the Rhys mansion to live with Constantine and his family. Bastien had convinced the President to take the Walker children after their father had died to protect him. The president had accepted to take them in and give them the best possible education, not only as a proof of his gratitude but as a magnificent publicity stunt, he knew the voters would love it.

Drake was reluctant to go with them. Regina and Constantine were both extremely cold parents and he knew her mother had never liked either of them. What if they were horrible to him, or worst, to his baby sister?

He was so nervous that not even the thrill of living with his best friend was enough to calm him. Bastien showed them their respective rooms, both twice as big as their old ones at the old Walker cabin. Savannah was even more scared than him, her heart was beating furiously, and she was clutching her teddy bear so hard that her knuckles went white.

“It’s ok Sav, we’ll be fine here, you know Li and Leo are cool” He tried to sound as mature as he could.

Savannah couldn’t stop her tears any longer. “You always tease me when you’re with them.”

He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it “We won’t anymore, Sav. I promise”

“I second that,” Liam poked his head into Savannah’s room. “We won’t tease you anymore Savvie. But the two of you can help us get back at Leo. Olivia and I are thinking how to prank him after he hid stinky bombs under our chairs on Livvie’s birthday. When we sat down, they exploded, and the room was reeking. Olivia was so furious she persecuted him with the knife for her cake and my dad punished us for a month” He seemed really amused by the memory.

Savannah smiled shyly behind her bear. “He really did that?”

“Yes, he also took some red coloring from the kitchen and put it on Olivia’s toothpaste, she spent the whole day with red teeth. Well, that one backfired, she was delighted when everyone thought she had been on a fight” Liam grinned at them. After losing his own mother three years before, he understood how anxious they were feeling, and he wanted them to feel welcome.

Drake smiled seeing his sister was calmer and shot a grateful look at Liam. He put his arm around Savannah’s shoulders and winked at his best friend “We will definitely think of something”

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Drake had waited a more than an hour before leaving the beach so he wouldn’t arrive at Theron’s mansion at the same time as Max and Alexis. When he finally started driving his mind drifted to the day after his mother had left. He took a deep breath remembering how sad and scared him and Sav had been and how much Liam had wanted to comfort them. All that pain because his mother had decided to abandon her own children without looking back. It astonished him that Alexis had thought that the two situations were remotely similar. She had been strong and generous, where her mother had been flaky and weak. Alexis would do anything to keep her daughter safe, his mother couldn’t care less about them.

Drake sighed thinking of her, of the roller coaster of emotions she had put him through. And now that he had finally understood the reasons behind the way she was acting, his only wish was to kill George O’Brien with his bare hands. That asshole had not only failed in protecting Alexis, but he had had the nerve of making her feel guilty and worthless. He had abandoned her when she had needed him the most and then he had forced her to give up her own daughter. His blood boiled thinking of Alexis, young, terrified and alone, and of her pain so raw, so deep despite the years. He remembered her soft voice telling him that she had never felt safe before him. That son of a bitch had to pay.

He dialed Kiara’s phone.

“Drake?”

“Hi, Kiara. I just wanted to know if Ambassador O’Brien is staying at your estate tonight with the rest of us.”

“Uhm, yes. I think my staff gave him the blue room, you know?” Kiara lowered her voice. “The one where you and I almost…”

Drake sighed, they had almost slept together ten years ago during a Beaumont Bash and she wouldn’t let it go. “Yes, I know. Thanks Kiara”

“Wait, Drake, I think he’s-“

Drake stopped the call and speeded up, he wasn’t thinking clearly, the only thing in his mind was to teach that monster a lesson.

When he arrived at the house, he jumped out of his car and entered the mansion furiously. In less than a second he was in the room Kiara had mentioned. He slammed the doors open only to find her, sitting in the bed.

“Coucou! (1) You got me all curious, Drake. You hung up the phone so fast, I couldn’t tell you that George is out of the country. He had some business to do in France” She stood up and walked towards Drake, putting her arms around his neck. “Why are you looking for him?”

He grabbed her arms and put them away. “Something for the campaign, forget about it.”

“S’il te plaît mon chéri. Tu as l’air très énervé ! (2) It has to be something more than a simple professional matter”

“I don’t speak fucking French Kiara and is not of your business. Good night.” Drake left the room as angrily as he had entered it.

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Hakim Theron was satisfied that the campaign had finally reached Castelraillan. It would be much easier to carry out his plans without worrying about missing crucial information.

Penelope had proved effective, but she didn’t have the brains or the wit to take matters into her hands. Plus she had to keep an eye on him, his secret weapon, the one who would definitely destroy Liam’s presidential dreams.

Hakim hoped that the boy didn’t take his betrayal personally, it wasn’t something he had against him or even Constantine, as much as he disliked the old man. It was what was best for Cordonia. Liam wanted to change too many things too fast and that could be dangerous for his country’s stability. It would be better for everyone, if things could go back to the way they were.

He smiled seeing Alexis and Tariq’s pictures, it was ironic that Constantine had brought to his son’s campaign the woman that was going to, unknowingly, destroy it.

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Alexis got into the car that was going to take her to the rally at Castelraillan and decided to check the final details of her last speech on the ride. She sighed thinking about how much she wanted to keep on working with Liam. Ironically, he had fired her because of Drake but Drake wasn’t the reason she wanted to be part of the campaign. The reason was Liam. His passion, his ideas, and his determination to change his country inspired her and made her admire him.

“Can I come in?” She turned her head to the car’s door and saw Liam with a couple of coffees and some pastries in a box.

“My father is waiting for me in the other car, but I much rather share these cronuts with you.” He smiled charmingly.

She couldn’t suppress a smile. “Well, if you bought too many cronuts, I could always help you with that.”

He entered the car and sat next to her, opening the box. “Take one.” He handed her one of the coffees. “And here’s a latte too”

She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she drank her coffee black, no sugar. Like Drake.

“Thank you, Li.”

He leaned to give her a soft kiss stroking her cheek with his hand. “I’m sorry about your role in the campaign, Alexis, but I really think it is for the best. I know you think that it’s about Drake, but it’s not.”

She shook her head rolling her eyes.

“Well, not only,” he conceded. “If I win you are going to be the First Lady of this country. You should be focusing on preparing for that, my love.” He kissed her knuckles. “You will have a lot of charities and philanthropic work, and of course you should be planning our engagement party and our wedding. I wouldn’t expect nor want that you limit yourself to smile prettily. I need a partner, someone I can trust next to me. But being my wife won’t be easy.”

Alexis nodded, finally acknowledging what her life would be from that moment on. Fancy and uncomfortable dresses, high painful heels, endless galas, and boring meetings for the hundreds of charities she would preside but would have no real involvement in.

Alexis was going to have to accept the fact that she wasn’t her own person anymore. Her dreams of hiking and camping in the forest, traveling around the world or writing a children’s novel one day weren’t a possibility any longer. Becoming First Lady would bring a whole set of responsibilities and she would have to live with that.

However, the worst part would be learning how to live with an eternal broken heart. She focused on the view behind the window. “I know, Liam. I’ll ask Max for help to plan the party and the wedding.”

“Perfect darling. And you can also count on Regina” The limousine parked “Here we are.”

When they got out of the car, dozens of paparazzi were waiting for them. Liam put his arms around her protectively and they quickly reached the temporary campaign’s quarters that had been set for the rally.

Drake felt her presence before she walked in. She was beautiful in a simple red dress and light makeup, but her facial expression was gloomy, highly contrasting with Liam’s joyful one. After a few seconds, she saw him and her face softened immediately. They locked eyes with each other only for a moment but they both felt the electricity passing across the room and turned around grinning. She took her computer and went to work on the other side of the room.

“Drake, can you bring me the results of the last polls in Castelraillan?” Liam was with Olivia checking some numbers before his speech and had missed their exchange.

“Of course, here they are. They show how your numbers have increased since Hakim declared his support.” He handed him a USB and added trying to sound casual. “Do you have the speech? I have to double-check that all your facts are correct”

Liam went mute for a second. “Alexis has it. I’ll go ask her for it”

Olivia cocked her brow. “What? Do you need some extra cash, so you took a second job running errands?” She snorted “Don’t be ridiculous, Liam. We have to look at these polls before you start the rally. Drake is a big boy; he can go himself”

Drake went looking for Alexis and spotted her immediately on the other side of the room.

“Hey O’Brien. I need to check the speech.” He said with a soft smile.

Her breath hitched seeing him grinning at her. Those dimples. “Hi, Drake!” She felt like a teenager again. Her ability to form coherent sentences or look at him without blushing were both gone, so she feigned to be deeply interested in her computer. Drake pulled a chair and sat next to her.

He lowered his voice so only her could hear him. “How are you doing, Lexie?”

“I’m fine, Drake. Thank you. Talking really helped.” Her eyes were bright and grateful, and he had to actively fight his hand’s urge to touch her.

“I’m here for anything you need, baby.”

She looked fondly at him, but suddenly remembered where she was, and most importantly, where her fiancé was and cleared her throat, standing up.

“I’m going to take five minutes, but you can read the speech here on my computer.” She shot him a sad look before leaving. It was better that way.

The rally started one hour later, Liam went up on stage and people went crazy. Alexis smiled, he was a great politician, she might have written the speech, but it was him who was bringing it to life. The fact that he actually believed in what he was saying, definitely helped.

She saw the crowd cheer and applaud at the other side of the curtain.

All of a sudden, Drake stood up behind her, his musky scent immediately inebriating her. He leaned towards her and whispered in her ear.

“We didn’t finish our conversation, O’Brien.”

His warm breath and his low raspy voice in her ear made her shiver. “I don’t know what you mean, Walker”

He shot a glance towards the stage where Liam was talking about education. Then he looked back at her. She was playing nervously with her chocolate hair, finally setting all of it on the left side of her head, leaving part of her neck uncovered.

The temptation was too great, he leaned towards her again and placed a small kiss on her nape while his fingertips gently brushed her back.

She closed her eyes savoring the brief moment, the feeling of Drake behind her was exhilarating and nerve-wracking at the same time.

Drake placed another small kiss but on her shoulder this time. Then he turned to her ear again.

“I need you, Lexie. Don’t shut me down again.”

She turned to him “Drake, I can’t do this. Please, don’t make it so hard.”

He didn’t take his eyes off of her.

Suddenly, a burst of applauses took them out of their bubble. Liam had finished his speech and was walking off the stage shaking hands and smiling widely at his followers.

“Come on, Drake. Let’s avoid another pissing contest. If Li sees you two together again, he’s going to lose it” Olivia glared at Alexis.

“Go with her, Drake. Please,” Alexis begged.

He shook his head but left with Olivia.

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

Maxwell sighed content. He had coordinated the whole rally with Ezequiel’s help, Kiara’s brother had been very helpful. He had asked him out, but he was too in love with Rashad to accept.

He knew that he and Kiara had broken their engagement, but he hadn’t had look for him yet. Rashad was on his own path, and he had to respect that. Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the presence in front of him. He looked up and was surprised to see Rashad watching him

“Hi, Max,” He said smiling.

“Hi, Rash. How are you doing?” He grinned back.

“Fine, it’s definitely weird to be back at my ex-fiancé’s house but I’m more convinced than ever that it was the right decision. I’ve missed you.” He set his hand in Maxwell’s knee and looked him expectantly.

“Are you sure about this Rashad?” Maxwell’s eyes were full of hope “Are you ready to try something real with me? To come out for good?”

Rashad nodded “I talked to my father; he wasn’t as shocked as I would have thought. He wasn’t thrilled but he said he’ll be supportive. I think that he really, really hated Kiara, so anyone else is an upgrade for him.” He chuckled.

“Even me?” Maxwell cocked his brows inquisitively.

“You’re the most amazing man in the world, Max” Rashad pulled Maxwell’s head towards him and kissed him. “I was dying to do that”.

Maxwell smiled mischievously and took Rashad’s hand. “I’ll show you upstairs what I’m dying to do”

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

The next day, Alexis was having breakfast with Liam in the main room. He wanted to make plans for their upcoming engagement party.

Maxwell entered the room with a huge smile plastered on his face. When he saw Alexis, he took her hand forcing her to stand up, and started to spin her around the room while he sang, under Liam’s amused look.

“L is for the way you look at me

O is for the only one I see”

She cackled “Max!” He twirled her around once more before elegantly dipping her, as he finished singing.

“V is very, very extraordinary

E is even more than anyone that you adore can”

Liam laughed. “Should I be concerned about you stealing my fiancé, Max?”

He chuckled. “She’s definitely a catch, but not really my type.”

“Let me guess.” She pointed her finger at him beaming. “Rashad and you’re back together?”

Liam cocked his brows in surprise. “What? Rashad is gay? Are you and Rashad together, Max?”

Alexis laughed. “You didn’t notice all those cute little looks that they’re always throwing at each other?”

“I can be slightly oblivious sometimes.” Liam smiled sheepishly

She hugged Max. “I’m so happy for you! You’re the best friend anyone can hope for, you deserve all the happiness in the world.”

“Aww! Stop, Blossom, you’re going to make me cry and I can’t have red, puffy eyes on my first day back with Rash.” He looked pensive for a second before talking again. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to run by you. I would love to bring Rashad to your engagement party as my official date.”

“I don’t even understand why you’re asking, Max. You can come with whoever you want.” She turned to Liam.

“Of course, Max. I don’t care who you bring as long as you come.”

“Aww, guys! I love you! Group hug!” He threw his arms at both of them before leaving. “I’ll go tell Rash.”

Alexis watched him go, delighted to see him so happy. She looked at Liam who was serving her a cup of coffee and put her hand on his. “You’re a good friend, Li.”

He placed the coffee maker on the table and took her chin between his thumb and index. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, but I’m hoping that we’ll be able to take care of that with some time.” He leaned to kiss her.

“I have to run, darling. I have a lot of work to do. Will you go shopping with Max for your wedding dress?”

She shuddered but managed to give him a small smile. “Yes. We have an appointment with Ana de Luca later. That’s all I’ll be doing with my day today. It’s fascinating, isn’t it?”

He ignored the acid remark. “You’ll love her. See you later, my love.” Liam kissed her before leaving the room.

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

After days of trying wedding and engagement dresses, Alexis was more than exasperated. She had never been someone who cared much about clothes and the only thing she was doing lately, was to shop.

She was even more exhausted from avoiding Drake. Every fiber of her being was pulling Alexis towards him but being close to each other was a torturous pain for both of them, so she tried to stay away from the campaign quarters as much as she could. She shuddered thinking about her engagement party. Drake would have to be there and watch her getting officially engaged with Liam. He was going to have to smile and congratulate them. She felt like screaming, the pain was getting too much to handle.

She took the keys to her car and drove to the nearest bar.

Five or six cheap whiskey glasses later, she was still sitting on a stool, incapable of moving. The moments she had spent with Drake were replaying in her head like a broken record. The day they had met, and that amazing kiss. The night stargazing or drinking whiskey in the cellar. The way he had taken care of her the night she had seen Brad again. How he had comforted when she had told him about Abigail. The conversations and the confidences they had shared. The hours spend discovering and loving each other. She missed how safe she felt with him. She craved their fights, his eyes, his kisses, his arms around her, his deep, raspy voice, his strong hands. Alexis didn’t know how she was going to do to live the rest of her life without him.

She was getting really drunk. It would be better if she called Max to take her back to the house.

“O’Brien” The familiar, manly voice startled her.

“Drake…how-?”

“Someone recognized you and called me”. He pointed at the back of the bar where Bastien nodded at them.

“You didn’t have to come, I was going to call Max.”

He sat on the stool beside her and called the barmaid. “I’ll have the same than her.”

Then, he turned to her to stroke her face. “I’m always going to come, Lexie. Always.”

She exhaled a sad breath. “Drake, I have to marry him. I don’t want to, but I have to.”

“We have to tell him the truth, Alexis. I know him since we were kids, he’ll understand.”

She sneered. “He’ll understand that I have been lying to him for months? He’ll understand that his father and mine have been plotting behind his back? He’ll understand that he loves me but I’m ... I’m …” She ran her hand through her hair desperately.

“You what, Alexis?” He lowered his head to meet her eyes. “You what?” He cupped her face making her face him “Tell me, you what!”

“I love you, okay?! I love yo- “

He crashed his mouth with hers stroking her face with his thumbs. It was hungry, desperate. It was soft and hot and breathy, and passionate. The heat rose in their cheeks as their tongues intertwined and they had to come out for air, breathless and giddy.

He held her head so her forehead would rest on his “I love you too, Alexis. I love you so fucking much it actually hurts. I never thought I would be the kind of guy who would tell a girl he’s crazy about her, but here I am, mad about you.” He sighed. “Insane about you.”

Her heart was beating faster and faster. Her head kept telling her that it was a mistake but the pull to him was stronger and she kissed him over and over until they needed to come out for air again.

After a while, she came to her senses.

Her eyes watered looking at him. “The reason Liam is acting controlling and possessive is that he’s feeling insecure. And he’s right. I love you. You are the love of my life, Drake.” Drake listened to her as he softly rubbed her face. “So I can’t really blame him for acting the way he is. I know he would never hurt me. I know he loves me. But even if I tell him the truth, I have to marry him.” She took a sharp breath. “If I’m honest with him there’s two possibilities. Either he calls off the wedding and Abigail will be in danger. Or he’ll agree to marry me to help me but he will be heartbroken.” She stroked Drake’s cheek too. “Telling Liam doesn’t solve the problem; we would only break his heart even more. The only solution is to accept things as they are, Drake. I’m sorry.”

He stared angrily at her “So that’s it? I love you, Drake but I’ll be marrying Liam in three weeks. You’re not even going to fight?”

“Don’t be unfair, Drake you know there’s nothing I can do.” Tears were falling off her cheeks as she spoke “Please, leave. I’ll call Maxwell”

She gestured the barmaid for another whiskey.

Drake stood up and turned her stool towards him, so she would be facing him. He leaned towards her taking her chin with his fingers “I would never leave, Lexie. Never. I don’t care if you marry him. I don’t care if I have to wait for the rest of my life to be with you. I won’t leave. As you long as you need me, I’ll be right here.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Even if we can only be friends?”

“Even then.” Drake returned her sad smile. “You can always count on me, baby.” He put a strand hair behind her ear, before kissing her forehead. “Now, let’s get you out of here before you drink their whole lot of whiskey”

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

Three days later, Liam was getting ready for his engagement party. He put his tuxedo on and looked in the mirror. He felt nervous, he was completely in love with Alexis, but he couldn’t help but feel uncertain. He kept on trying but she seemed unattainable, always kind, and gentle but never really there with him. Liam shook his head putting those thoughts aside, they were getting married in three weeks and, then, she will be his. There was nothing to be afraid of.

Liam had arranged one limousine for the five of them so they would arrive together like a solid family. He had invited Leo to come with them too, but he said he would arrive a little later, surely drunk and with some random woman. It was exasperating but he couldn’t take care of that now.

When the car pulled over at the O’Brien’s mansion and Alexis came out, Liam grinned. She was gorgeous. He offered her his arm and took her to the limousine, with George behind them.

Constantine and Regina were already inside waiting for them with a cold champagne bottle.

Alexis sighed. Perfect! The man with no heart and the wicked witch of the east.

George spoke with a content expression on his face. “Well, we’re close to Election’s day and we’re almost sure that we will win. We should toast to that”

“A glass of champagne, dear?” Regina questioned.

She smiled politely.“Yes, Regina. Thank you” And keep them coming.

After clinking their glasses, Constantine turned to Liam “Are you ready, son? All Cordonia’s press will be there, you’ll have to give interviews and take some pictures” He paused to focus on Alexis “We all know how much you hate that dear, but you’ll have to do it tonight. Do we understand each other?”

She stared at him contemptuously. “I’m more than capable to answer some questions, Constantine but thank you so much for your concern.”

Liam grabbed her hand “Please, father. Alexis doesn’t need you to tell her what to do.” He turned to her. “By the way love, you look beautiful”

She looked at him gratefully. “Thanks, Li. You look very handsome too.”

The limousine parked at the venue chosen by Regina. Liam squeezed Alexis’s hand.

“Let’s do this”

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

Maxwell had everything ready. He had planned the party with Regina, after a few days, it had become clear that Alexis wasn’t at all interested in the party, or in the engagement.

He had greeted most guests and was only waiting for them. When they finally arrived, he instructed them on how to make their entrance. George came down the stairs first, then Regina and Constantine, and finally, in the middle of a round of applause, Liam, the candidate, and Alexis.

Drake was at the other end of the room with a glass of whiskey in his hand. His heart raced at the sight of her. She was breathtaking with a red strapless dress that brought attention to her breasts. It was tight, and had a long skirt with a slit that gave a tantalizing view of her tanned, long leg as she descended; her big eyes and crimson lips were framed by her shiny brown hair. She was a vision, A gorgeous vision. His mouth went dry instantly, he knew that his promise of being only his friend will be very difficult to keep.

His fist clenched seeing Liam put his arms around her and kiss her in front of everyone. In front of him. He felt like punching someone, and seeing George next to them, he knew exactly who. The rage didn’t let him see the brunette sitting next to him.

“Salut, Drake. Ca va? (2)” Kiara asked seductively.

“I have told you a thousand times how annoying it is when you switch languages like that Kiara. Pick fucking one and stick with it. It’s called commitment.”

She giggled. “I love how direct you are.” She placed her hand on his thigh “I really really love it” She started to rub his thigh, but he grabbed her hand.

“Well, I’m happy you appreciate my bluntness, you’re going to love this, I need some time alone, Kiara. Have a good night.” He turned towards the bar and asked for another whiskey.

Alexis didn’t miss anything about their exchange, her blood boiled when she saw Kiara place her hand on his thigh but smiled to herself when she saw Drake take it off.

Liam hugged her from behind.

“How are you doing, love?”

“I would love another glass of champagne, Li,” she answered.

He signaled the waiter to come and serve them. He clinked his glass with her and kiss her on the cheek “You won’t believe how happy I’m tonight, not only I’m way ahead in the polls, but I have In my arms the most beautiful woman in the room.”

Olivia huffed. She had a thousand things to coordinate and Drake wasn’t of any help getting wasted on the bar. Of course, she understood him, even if she still loved Liam, her feelings weren’t as raw as Drakes’ and she had had years of training.

She approached the happy couple seething, she would love to know Alexis’s intentions. It was obvious how crazily in love with Drake she was. Was she marrying Liam only for his position? Olivia had to find out.

“You have to come and talk to Francesco, the Italian’s ambassador, Liam” She shot an angry look at Alexis. “And your father is looking for you.”

Alexis seemed surprised. “What for?”

Olivia arched her brow “Do I look like your fucking secretary or do you need glasses?”

“Olivia, please,” Liam scolded her.

Alexis was about to answer with a snarky remark but when she saw Olivia’s eyes, she recognized the pain. Olivia was hurting as much as she was but for a different man.

“It’s fine, Li. I’m going to go look for my father. See you later.”

Liam took her hand and pulled her body towards him to kiss her “See you soon my love.”

Drake stood up furious after seeing the kiss. After all the whiskey he had had to drink the only thing he cared about was talking to her. He saw her walk away from Liam and Olivia and enter the hall, he tried to pass the couples dancing in the dance-floor as fast as he could but when he was about to go out, Max called him.

Alexis reached the hall. Her father was waiting for her with an envelope in his hand. “What does this mean, Alexis?”

George threw the envelope at her. When she opened it she saw a few pictures of her from a week ago, from the night she had told Drake about Abigail. They were hugging and kissing in the photos.

“Did you have me followed? How dare you!” Alexis was furious.

George took a step towards her. “How I dare? Me?” He grabbed her arm “You’re behaving like a whore but you think that it’s me who have to explain myself to you?” He yanked her arm.

“LET.HER.GO” Drake growled.

George laughed but freed her arm. “Prince Charming himself” He snickered. “Well, his best friend. This is a family matter, Walker. Leave.”

Drake ignored the ambassador. “Are you ok, Lexie?”

She knew Drake and she had to avoid a fight at all costs. “It’s fine, Drake. I’m fine. Really.”

“Good, baby. Go back inside.” He rolled his sleeves.

She didn’t move “Drake, please.”

Everything happened so fast that George didn’t have the time to react before he felt Drake’s fist connect with his jaw.

“You’re nothing but a piece of crap.” Drake grabbed him by his shoulder and gave him one, two, three punches in his stomach.

“You shouldn’t even be allowed to live, you piece of crap.” He slammed him against the wall. George was trying to defend himself, but the younger man was stronger and faster. “What asshole? If it’s not a defenseless woman you can’t fight?”

“Drake! Stop!” The music in the party was too loud but Maxwell and Rashad were close to the door and they had seen Drake beating the Ambassador. They both took him by his arms, using all their strength to pull him apart from George.

Drake tried to free himself. “Let me go! I‘m going to kill this motherfucker!”

George sat at the floor seething with fury. “You’ll pay for this Walker. I swear” He turned to Alexis. “Tell Constantine that I wasn’t feeling good. And you better keep your promise with Liam. Unless you prefer this filthy asshole to Abigail.”

Drake screamed at him. “Don’t you dare to threaten her”

Rashad got himself in the middle. “Come on, Drake. Let him go”

George stood up and limped away from them.

Drake looked at Alexis. Maxwell grabbed Rashad’s shoulder. “They need to talk, Rash. Let’s go back to the ballroom.”

Alexis was beyond furious. “Why!? Why do you have to do that!? Now he’ll have something against you too. I’m not only going to be worried about Abbie. I’ll be worried sick about you too, Drake.” Her eyes watered.

He cut the distance between them, there was nothing worst for him than seeing her crying. He cupped her face and cleaned her tears with his thumbs. “I can’t let it go, baby. I told you, no one would never put a finger on you, again. After the way he’s treated you he deserved that and much more. You know that.”

“I don’t fucking care about him, Drake. You don’t know how he is, what he’s capable of.” Alexis sobbed, terrified. “I can’t lose you.”

“He’s threatening his own daughter, Lexie. Believe me, I can imagine what he’s capable of. And I told you the other night, you will never lose me. I swear.” He kissed her lips tenderly.

She smiled through her tears, noticing his bloody knuckles. “Let’s go put some cold water on that”

Maxwell came out of the ballroom with a wet cloth. “I brought this for your hands, Drake. Lex, Liam is looking for you, he’s giving his engagement speech. You better come in first and alone” He threw an apologetic look at Drake.

Liam smiled as soon as he saw her coming through the door.

“There you are, love. Where’s your father? I wanted to give my speech now.”

“He wasn’t feeling well, Li. He won’t come back tonight so you can give the speech now.”

Liam looked at her suspiciously but didn’t reply.

He went to the top of the stairs with her. Maxwell nodded at the band on stage, so they’d announce Liam’s speech.

“Alexis and I are delighted, thrilled and honored to share our intentions for the rest of our days with you. Standing together in front of all the very special people in our lives to announce our engagement makes our private dreams public and, in a way, real. Thank you for being here, for your love and well wishes-”

Suddenly, the buzzing and noise of telephones beeping were all they could hear, but Liam made an attempt to ignore them.

“Alexis has made me the happiest man in the world. With her, by my side, I understand what the writer Francis Scott Fitzgerald meant when he said, ‘I love her, and that’s the beginning and end of everything.’-”

He stopped talking, everyone had their eyes glued either on their phone or on Alexis. She searched Drake, he was seething looking at his phone too.

Finally, among a trail of whispers and gasps, Alexis and Liam reached Drake and Maxwell and grabbed their phones. Alexis saw her world collapsing when she read the article. It was entitled “An Affair to Remember” and was illustrated by some very suggestive photos of her and Tariq the night of her attack.

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In a corner of the ballroom, Leo Rhys smiled. Hakim’s plan was working perfectly.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Kiara:

Please honey, You were really angry (...)

Hi! How is it going?

#drake walker #drake x mc #drakexmc #drake walker fanfic #trr #trr drake #trr fanfic

71 notes · View notes

somedayonbroadway · 4 years

Note

Okokokokok High School Musical AU pretty please with a cherry on top?

Hahahahahahaha YES

Okay, so…

Characters-

Jack Kelly — Troy Bolton

Katherine Plumber — Gabrielle

Medda Larkin — Ms. Darbus

Spot Conlon — Chad

Crutchie Morris — Kelsie

Racetrack Higgins — Taylor

William Snyder — Jack Bolton (only sort of)

Albert DaSilva — Zeke

Finch — Jason

Sarah Jacobs — Sharpay Evans

David Jacobs — Ryan Evans

I know… it’s a bit of an odd list. But like… go with me on this.

Over Winter break, on New Years Eve, Jack and Katherine meet at a ski lodge. Katherine went with her family. Her father, her mother and his older sister. Jack is up there after running away from his foster home and trying to get in contact with his birth mother who just recently got out of prison. He believes she’ll be at this party.

They both end up at a party. Jack has a hood pulled up over his head to try and hide. The cops are looking for him by then. Snyder’s pissed. Katherine is with her father, talking about school.

The karaoke machine gets set up. Jack is trying to get out of the room because he’s scared of getting caught and Katherine is minding her own business.

But they happen to be the two random people pulled from the crowd and dragged on stage. Jack tried to get away, barely stopping himself from punching someone in the nose. And Katherine shyly tries to tell them no thank you, but they both end up there and catch sight of one another. And they freeze.

Jack tries to leave again, now not wanting to embarrass himself in front of this pretty girl who just stops him by saying she’s willing if he’s willing.

And they end up singing together for the first time. And they actually sound really good together.

After they’re finished, Jack catches sight of some of the cops again and he bolts, only for Katherine to follow him outside and ask him what was wrong. He plays it off. Says it’s nothing. And she lets it go.

They end up exchanging phone numbers on the balcony. And they come so close to kissing when the ball drops.

But Jack has to run.

A couple weeks later…

It’s the first day back at school after the break. Jack is happy to have something to do rather than sneak out of his home and avoid his foster father, a Mr. William Snyder. He’s been in this home for about a year on his own.

Snyder and him don’t necessarily get along.

Anyways, Jack is stoked about seeing his friends again. He’s on the football team. The quarterback. And his teammates all very much look up to him. His coach, Mr. Todd Kloppman, adores him and wants him to get a scholarship with his skills. And Jack has his mind set on that.

Snyder didn’t want to let him play sports to begin with. But Jack told him it was the only way for him to get into college. So Snyder let him.

It’s Jack’s escape from that house.

In homeroom, after meeting up with his best friend Spot Conlon who also happens to be in that class, Jack spots a familiar face.

Katherine.

She sees him too and smiles at him. She looks nervous.

He moves to sit by her and talk to her a little. She admits she just moved to Manhattan from Chicago and just got transferred into Roosevelt High School. Jack offers to show her around and she accepts.

Spot gives Jack a look and Jack ignores him. Spot loves to tease him.

While Jack is showing Katherine around, she quickly starts to learn that this school has very tight cliques.

One of them being the drama kids.

As they walk by the theatre, Katherine sees that there’s a sign up for auditions for the next school musical and she jokes that her and Jack should sign up because they made such a good team up at the ski lodge. Jack laughs.

And in comes the Ice Princess.

Sarah Jacobs.

She is the queen of the school, pretty much. Pretty, rich and popular. She’s an amazing singer, trained in music, dance and acting as well as starting her own fashion business. (I know she is very different from the Sarah Jacobs we know, but come on, she’s gonna slay).

Sarah and her twin brother, equally as talented, equally as rich, but not quite as popular, David Jacobs, are walking over to sign up for auditions. That’s where Katherine and Sarah meet for the first time.

Sarah, the queen that she is, pushes past Katherine to sign up, signing the whole sheet before she turns around to say hi to Jack, who she believes she is destined to be with until the end of time. Jack does not feel the same way. But she tries to subtly tell Kath to get away from her “property” (i know it’s not mean girls but you can’t tell me Sharpay wasn’t based off of Regina George in some ways). Katherine doesn’t take the threat too seriously, as she is a nice, easy going person.

David is in the background. He has a slight crush on Jack, but would never act on it because he knows Sarah is basically in love with the guy.

(Tangent. Y’all can’t tell me Ryan wasn’t supposed to be gay in the first movie. He 👏🏻 was 👏🏻 totally 👏🏻 gay👏🏻, but Disney was too scared to own up to it)

Anyways,

Jack continues to show Kath around the school as Sarah hatches her master plan to keep Katherine out of the drama clique. She goes to Race, honor student on his way to being valedictorian, and tells him about Katherine. Race does a little digging and finds out that Katherine is wicked smart and recruits her for the Scholastic Decathlon, catching her and Jack in the halls at their next break.

Race rushes up to them and tries to talk to Katherine but ends up seeing Jack and says something sarcastic instead and he and Jack get into a small argument that Katherine can’t quite follow. She tries to defend Jack but Race says she doesn’t know him well enough yet. Katherine asks what Jack did to this kid who seems to be at least two years younger than them. Jack said he didn’t do anything to him.

His little brother just loves to fight.

Race just glares at him and says something like “you know what you did” and then turns his attention back to Katherine, officially inviting her into the “brainiac” clique.

She does join. But at that moment she just says she’ll think about it.

Then she asks Jack a little about Race. He admits that Race is his half brother and he lives with a foster family on the other side of town while he lives with his foster dad just down the street. She asks why they don’t live together and Jack tells her that it’s a long story. But eventually he tells her that since Race showed signs of being really smart at such a young age, it was decided that he needed to be placed with folks who would cater to his needs better while Jack was just normal.

The family’s that were willing to foster Race never wanted to take in two kids. So the system split them up.

Jack says this in fewer words. But Katherine figures it out.

Katherine takes Race up on his offer, finding out that Race is set to graduate the same year as Jack.

Later, while Jack is at football practice, he’s having an extremely hard time focusing as this girl has just come into his life and made him think about things he’d never thought about before. Like, how he might want to ask Katherine out on a date or how he enjoyed singing with her or how everyone had a specific thing they were expected to do, but what about other things?

His teammates don’t appreciate his inability to focus and wrestle with him a little, just playfully, to try and help him get back into the game.

He loves his teammates.

Later, after practice, Jack is the last one in the locker room where Race comes in and drops him off and bagged lunch. He tells Jack that he wasn’t hungry at lunch. And Jack just hugs him for a second before asking him if he’d seen Katherine around.

Race teases him for a minute before Jack asks him if he wants a soaking. So Race tells Jack that Katherine went to the auditorium. And he gives Race a kiss on the head before he goes to find her.

When he gets there, he sees Sarah and David auditioning. Katherine is standing in the back of the other side of the theatre. They see each other but make no move to get closer. Instead, they watch the amusing but well done audition of their classmates.

Sarah and David are obviously both talented, but Sarah is obsessed with having the spotlight while David is very creative and does love to try new things and welcomes change.

The audition process is finishing up. Jack does not miss the way Sarah hisses at Charlie, the innocent pianist on her way out. He just tried to put in his thoughts on how his song should be performed.

He’s a composer and student director of the band.

Miss Medda, the drama teacher, asks if there’s any more auditions. Charlie says he doesn’t think so and no one else speaks up.

So Medda goes to leave.

Katherine is standing in the back, unsure of what to do. But eventually, she speaks up. She says she wants to audition.

Medda tells her that it’s too late and that she’ll need to come back for the next production.

Jack gives her a sorry look.

And Katherine just shrugs, willing to accept that. But as they both go to go their separate ways, Charlie trips up on stage, setting one of his crutches down on a misplaced prop. Without even thinking about it, both of them rush up to help him.

And he thanks them as he pulls himself back to the piano. And tried to get his things back in order. He apologizes to them for not being able to audition. Jack says he wasn't going to, that he wasn’t good enough for that anyways. And Kath and Charlie both don’t believe him. So Charlie starts to play the audition song, telling them that Sarah and David sang it in a way that didn’t quite capture the meaning behind it.

The song is I Never Planned On You/Don’t Come A’ Knockin’. Because it can be.

Katherine and Jack sing the song easily. Katherine admits she used to love to sing and her fatherhad taught her violin. Jack admits he used to play the piano with his mom and his little brother and THATS WHY THEY CAN READ MUSIC BECAUSE ITS NOT THAT EASY TROY AND GABRIELLA.

Anyways…

Before Charlie can even say anything, Miss Medda is clapping for them and telling them that they better find themselves at callbacks the next day.

Katherine is excited.

Jack is terrified.

Jack goes home to an empty house. He eats the food his brother gave him and does his homework and goes to bed. When he hears the door open, he pretends to be asleep.

Snyder’s drunk again.

The next morning, Jack sneaks out through the window and goes to school.

When he gets there he finds that the callback list was posted. And he tries to walk the other way. But Spot catches up to him.

He teases Jack, expecting it to be some kind of joke. But Jack just rolls his eyes and Spot asks him if he’s serious. Before Jack can answer, Race rushes up to him and jumps on his back and teases him too.

Jack admits he hadn’t meant to audition. He’d just been screwing around.

Katherine tries to defend him but his friends still tell him that he wasn’t supposed to do drama. That he was an athlete and that he didn’t have time and that it was weird for him to want to sing and dance.

But Katherine says that she loved to sing and dance and she was a straight A student and she had played soccer at her old school.

And these kids would be amazed.

People would start admitting things. Things that no one knew.

Albert loved to bake.

Finch likes to dance.

Other things happen.

Spot is concerned by this. He needs Jack to focus on the playoffs that are coming up. Jacks the quarterback. He has too much of a responsibility.

He tries to enlist Race’s help. Race is hesitant, not wanting to upset his brother. But Spot convinces him it’s for the best.

They both hold somewhat of an intervention for their friends where Spot gets Jack to admit that he doesn’t think the audition is important and that Katherine couldn’t come between him and his team.

It’s not what he means. He means that if Snyder found out he was auditioning for musicals and pining after some pretty girl he’d get the living hell beat out of him.

But he can’t just say that.

He doesn’t know he’s being recorded.

Race shows Katherine the tape and immediately feels guilty.

He calls Spot and tries to tell him they made a mistake after Katherine tells him that auditioning in the first place was stupid.

Jack doesn’t understand why Katherine suddenly wants to back out when he goes to see Race after school. And Race gives him a sorry look. So Jack convinces Katherine to do it again and promises her that he’ll do it with her if that’ll be what makes her happy. And he sends her off to Charlie while he talks to Race.

Race is shocked and asks Jack if he would even be allowed. Jack would tell him not to worry about it and Race would just hug him for a minute, telling Jack that the family he was with was thinking about fully adopting him.

It would break Jack’s heart. But he’d try to tell Race that that was really good, that he should be happy. Race wouldn’t think so. He’d say that he didn’t want to belong to someone else. That he was fine exactly where he was and that he’d rather move in with Jack when Jack turned eighteen.

Jack would tell him that everything would be okay. That it would all work out for the best.

And then he’d tell Race to get him while he went to rehearse with Katherine.

Sarah would overhear Jack and Katherine rehearsing. So she’d go to Miss Medda and convince her to move callbacks to the day of Jack’s big game and Kath’s competition.

Charlie, the little genius, overhears this conversation and immediately starts to form a plan, enlisting the help of Race and Spot.

Race and Katherine hack into the school electrical system and mess with the power on the football field. They also cause a chemical reaction at their own competition, forcing an evacuation.

Jack and Katherine rush to callbacks with their friends right behind them and they get up on stage.

Katherine freezes, looking at Jack and shaking her head, silently telling him how scared she was. But Jack just takes her hand and starts singing.

And they get through it. (Something To Believe In).

Medda gives them the part and gives Sarah and David their understudies. David congratulates them. Sarah is pissed.

Everyone goes to watch the football team win after that. And Jack and Katherine kiss for the first time.

Spot admits to Race that he’s got a secret too. Then he proceeds to ask Race out.

And Jack sees it happen.

But he doesn’t say anything.

He goes home that day happy.

Snyder however, is not quite so happy.

When Jack gets home he’s almost immediately thrown against a wall. Snyder is tipsy at that point. He’s angry. He wants to know why Jack was out so late. Jack says he had a game. Snyder doesn’t believe it. So Jack admits he was with his friends.

And Snyder just hits him.

It happens every now and then when Snyder’s not completely forgetting that he exists. Snyder needed some extra cash. He hates that he has a kid living with him. Jack can deal with it every once in a while.

What he hates is being locked in the basement closet.

And Snyder knows that.

He locks Jack in and leaves him. And Jack cries for a minute before he can think to call his little brother with the phone that Snyder forgot he had.

And Race brings Spot and the cops with him to get Jack out.

Race and Spot get there first. Spot holds off Snyder so Race can get Jack out of the closet and Race holds Jack for a minute until Spot runs down with the cops. They try to talk to Jack and take him upstairs.

Before he goes with them, he tells Spot that if he hurts his brother, he’ll kill him. And Race can’t help but laugh.

They arrest Snyder and Race admits that his foster family found out they’re going to have their own baby. And they wouldn’t have room for him anymore.

The brothers are relocated. This time together. To a home of one Miss Medda where they find out Charlie is her adopted son.

And they all lived happily ever after.

Or, at least, survived the school year.

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akp-1327 · 4 years

Text

dear diary // chapter one

Hi, everyone! This is the first chapter of the new series I’ve started. I hope you enjoy and stick around for future chapters! 💕

Find a series “description” and other detailing here!

Word Count: ~ 5.3k

(*) Warnings: none

July 16th, 2020

Dear Diary,

Nothing would make me happier than to visit the city. The bright lights, the busy streets, the shops, the smell of car exhaust. For all the wonders I’d discover, for all the opportunities I’d face. For the experience, for the fun.

Living in a small town is boring. It’s the same, day after day. Then as soon as you bat an eye, you’ve turned eighteen and have barely left the state. Some would call me a hobbit, some would call me lazy. But it’s hard to get out of town when your family can’t really leave because of their job and you’re too scared to learn how to drive.

The diner that my parents own is great; awesome pancakes, delicious milkshakes, and every single pie flavor you could ever imagine. It’s called the Golden Griddle and it’s located right in the heart of Cedar Cove, Oregon. You’d have to be blind to miss the sunny yellow paint (that’s ever so slowly chipping away, but don’t tell my dad) smeared on the bricks.

Anyway. I’m Charlotte, but you knew that already, didn’t you? Of course you did. Well, if you needed a reminder of my sob-worthy life story...my brother and I are adopted. But you probably remembered that, right? Wow, I need to stop ranting about how you probably remember me. You’re a literal book for God’s sake.

Wait; back on topic. I want to go to see the city. So badly. Oh, and have I mentioned that I got accepted into my dream school? New York University, here I come. How have I not written about that yet? Holy crap. NYU preparations have been coming along nicely. I already have half my room packed and almost all my dorm stuff that my mom insists on buying. My brother Henry, too. He’s going to Ohio State on a football scholarship and a desire to pursue athletic training. Big dreams!

Me, you ask? Good gracious, Diary, stop interrupting! (Oh boy, I’m talking to myself. Skye would laugh...). I’m pursuing acting and theater, of course. A major in drama and a minor in production. I’m chasing the sun here, okay? I am a future Broadway star and actress with dreams as far as the eye can see!

I am ecstatic to make the big move at the beginning of August. More updates to come. Sorry if this ending was abrupt. My dad made his famous chili tonight and I gotta go get it while it’s hot and before Henry inhales it all like the vacuum he is.

Yours, Charlotte :)

The faint, familiar smell of spices filled my senses as I put the old and tattered diary down. It was a gift I got years and years ago from a friend, but I never used it. May as well start before the wild ride of my new life starts, right?

I threw my blonde hair into a bun as I walked out of my room, avoiding boxes piled up high on the floor. Right as I stepped into the hallway, however, my foot met a ball of fluff curled right outside my doorway.

“Aw, Cooper,” I cooed, leaning down and scooping the little snowball I called a dog into my arms, cradling him close, “you’re missing all the food downstairs, buddy!”

A small whimper came from him as I made my way down the stairs. Henry was spread out on the couch and watching some sort of European soccer, er, football on the TV.

“Hey, just in time!” Henry smiled, waving me over to sit next to him. I obliged, setting Cooper down onto the floor and taking a seat next to him.

...It was crazy how he was twice my size. And how I was the older one by three whole minutes.

“What’s up, Henry?” I asked, nudging his arm. A laugh escaped his throat as he gestured to the screen and unpaused the video (wait, it was paused this entire time?). I watched the screen to see a player get hit in the head with a soccer ball.

“Hah!” Henry laughed, his deep pitch echoing off the walls. I gasped and swatted his arm.

“Henry! Laughing at someone else’s pain is so rude! What if he got a concussion that ended his career?” I said, a twinge of amusement in my tone. All in all, I loved to see my brother get all flustered. He was such a goody-two-shoes that even something like this comment would make him blow a gasket--

“He’s laughing, sis. I don’t think the dude’s hurt.” Henry said, his tone smug. Maybe college was finally really going to his head.

I shook my head with both surprise and disappointment as I stood up, gesturing for the walking vacuum to follow suit. “C’mon, knucklehead. Dinner’s almost ready.”

We both walked into the kitchen to see the finishing arrangements being set up for dinner; Mom was retrieving bowls and utensils as Dad strained the water from the elbow macaroni at the sink.

“You two are in here early,” Mom teased, giving us a side glare as she placed the bowls and spoons on the counter, “what about?”

A sweet, innocent smile crossed my face as I batted my eyelashes at her. “It just smells so good that I couldn’t stay away!”

“I’ve heard that one before, you jest. Come get your bowls.” Mom chuckled, stepping away. Henry and I grabbed a bowl right as Dad turned to us.

“Get it while it’s hot!” Dad said, grabbing a bowl of his own. Henry and I both dove for the noodles and chili, somehow managing to get our servings without making a complete mess like we usually do. It’s crazy to think of how people mature over time...

The old seats at the table squeaked as we all sat down and started to dig into our chili. A comfortable silence blanketed the table and just as I got used to it, Mom broke it.

“So, you two have been packing, yes? Even the stuff you aren’t bringing?” Mom asked sweetly, dabbing a napkin at the corners of her mouth. She’d always been the politest one in the family; too bad no one else at the table had her mannerisms.

“My room is basically packed except for some of my clothes and books,” I said in between chews of the (extremely hot) chili in my mouth, “but otherwise I’m good.”

Henry nodded and pointed his thumb at me, his eyes never leaving his bowl. “Mhmm.”

“That’s great! Your flights leave in only a matter of days!” Dad cheered, giving Mom a high five. It was such a weird but common thing to see parents do: act like teenagers.

“You sound excited about that?” Henry questioned. I looked over to see half his bowl already gone.

Mom heaved a sigh.

“We’re excited for you both to finally experience the world. We can’t wait for your lives to truly start!” Mom said, a smile encompassing her features. Her kind, brown eyes flitted between Henry and me.

“You two have the world at your fingertips,” Dad added, glancing at Mom. They shared a fond look.

At that moment, for the briefest second, I wished that I had a connection like that; a soulmate, someone who you could spill your heart out to. Someone who you could love and be loved by. Someone who’d want nothing more than to see you happy.

Also at that moment, I decided that I would make it a small goal of mine to make this wish come true during my time at NYU.

My blankets were soft around my legs as I sat propped up against my pillows. Leila and I had been talking on the phone all night. I felt like I was in that moment in Mean Girls where Gretchen was switching between Cady, Karen, and Regina. Except...I wasn’t switching between anyone at the moment.

Leila Maciel is my best friend. She’s someone with a sarcastic personality and a snarky remark to anything. She’s as smart as a whip and could, without a doubt, put you in your place if you stepped out of line with her intimidating strength. Though, she also has a soft and caring side that she only reveals to those who she deems trustworthy. A confident, kind, and bold girl indeed.

We’ve been friends for our entire high school careers, but it feels like I’ve known her my entire life.

During our freshman year, Leila was in an extremely toxic relationship. Her ex-girlfriend, a “sweet” but a rather manipulative girl, was to blame for our friendship. This girl, Sadie, ticked all of Leila’s boxes; beautiful, smart, compassionate, sweet...

Remember that Leila and I had only known each other for a month at this point.

Leila and Sadie’s relationship was adorable from the outside. Both bright-eyed and bushy-tailed freshmen with hearts in their eyes. It was something you’d see in a more realistic version of High School Musical because let’s be real...those movies aren’t realistic. (I still love them, though!)

About a year into their relationship, though, Sadie transformed from sweet to sour. She used Leila to get what she wanted like she was her very own puppet. Her antics ranged from cheating on tests to almost stealing a designer handbag before I intervened. Then, like the cherry on top of this extremely nasty sundae, Sadie revealed that she cheated on Leila with a college girl for the majority of their relationship. Let’s just say that their relationship was terminated seconds after that bombshell blew up.

Leila was broken for months. She truly believed that she loved Sadie, but upon further examination, I found that Leila felt guilty whenever she had the opportunity to say no. It had never been any sort of love; it was an obligation. Also after that relationship, Leila decided that instead of focusing on liking girls, she’d be open and love anyone. She was sick of limits.

So, here we are today.

Now, as we talked on the phone, I thought about how she’d also be going to NYU, majoring in business. We were roommates! It was like a dream come true.

“Uh, Charlotte?” Leila asked with a laugh. “You alive?”

Reality snapped back into place as I blinked my eyes rapidly. “Oh, uh, yeah. What’d you say?”

“Did you buy a fan for our dorm?” Leila asked monotonously. This made me laugh for some odd reason. “Dear Lord, what’s so funny?”

Honestly, though. What was funny, Charlotte? One could say that I was losing my mind.

“I don’t know, spur of the moment? But otherwise, yes; I got the one you pointed out at Target.” I said, surprising myself with how even my voice sounded. A familiar hum came from the other end of the line in response.

“Cool. Then you’re all set to go for next week?” Leila asked, her voice making it sound like she was smiling. I laughed again and nodded to myself.

“Yes!” Was all I could say.

Leila’s sigh was so loud that I could swear that I felt her breath through the phone. “You’re not stressing out over this, are you?”

My eyes widened at her question. Was I stressing out about this? I’d been packing for days on end without breaks. I had folded, re-folded, and re-re-folded all of my clothes several times in my duffel bag. I had splurged on so many things, like that fan Leila mentioned, without a second thought. I don’t think I’ve had a proper shower in almost a week; I was too busy being a nervous wreck.

“Maybe a little bit, but not too much,” I responded, my tone a bit somber as I tried to conceal my lie. My fingers twirled the fringed fabric of my tie blanket around as I waited for Leila’s retort.

“Stressing out over this is like a circle, Charlotte. It’s pointless,” Leila said, her voice starting to reveal her exhaustion, “and you need to relax. We’ll be fine.”

Thoughts buzzed through my mind as I contemplated her words. Would we be fine? Is “fine” even the correct word to describe this situation? How about rephrasing the entire statement entirely by saying “there is a chance that we’ll survive, but it definitely ain’t high.”? That version was more accurate, in all honesty. Moving across the country for school didn’t sound like a situation that could only earn the word “fine”.

“Aren’t you worried, though? A big city, a new city, a scary city...we’re diving into the deep end here, Leila! We have no idea what the hell we’re doing!” I panicked, squeezing my eyes closed.

Now it was Leila’s turn to laugh uncontrollably. Though, hers was more of a witch’s cackle.

“Wow, okay. First of all, we’ll stick together. Second, not knowing what we’re doing is all apart of the college experience. We’ll seriously be okay if we stick together.” Leila assured, still laughing - she never was the sympathetic type in these types of situations.

“If you think so, then I guess I need to believe it.” I yawned, tucking myself further into my blankets. Leila broke out into a yawn as well, making me think that she was actually tired for once (the girl was the definition of a night owl).

“We should get some sleep. We’ll have plenty of time to talk later.” Leila stated. I could imagine her rolling her brown eyes at her own words. A laugh escaped me instead of the hum I intended on.

“Jesus, why do you keep laughing? Why do you have so much energy?” Leila groaned, making my laughter subside.

“I honestly don’t know, I’m a complete and utter mess. We’ll text tomorrow?” I suspired, resting my arm over my eyes to completely block out this embarrassing reality.

“You bet. Love you lots.” Leila said. Her declarations of love truly became more meaningful after that whole spectacle with Sadie. She had a ginormous heart of gold beneath that rough exterior.

“Love you more! Good night!” I said, hanging up after she murmured a farewell. I tossed my phone onto the soft fabric of my blanket and stared up at the ceiling, a nostalgic feeling washing over me. All of the nights during elementary school where I’d do this exact thing, except I would be thinking about my Barbie dolls or my recess adventures. Now, I thought about the future and what waited for me.

College better live up to its well-known reputation.

Before I could comprehend what was even happening, I was standing in the middle of Portland’s airport with the arms of my family around me.

Days legitimately whizzed past with nothing short of a greeting. I mean, it was already August 4th...somehow.

“You have all your bags, right?” Dad asked, his voice wavering the slightest bit. I looked down at my belongings for the fourth time; a large duffel bag of clothes, a chest full of dorm stuff and personal items (including that stupid fan, yes), and a very large and heavy carry-on stuffed with all of my technology. And, for the fourth time, I confirmed that I had everything.

“It’s all here, Dad. For the last time.” I giggled, shaking my head. He could only respond with his usual eye roll and grin.

“What about Leila? Are you completely positive that she’s on your flight?” Mom asked, her eyes inspecting mine. A sigh freed itself from my lungs as I nodded.

“She’s already waiting for me by the baggage area, Mom. You even saw her when we walked in, remember?” I stated, returning her inspecting gaze as she fondly smiled in remembrance.

My hands were reaching down to pick up my bags before Henry lightly punched my shoulder. “Wait, whoa, where’s the love, sis?”

“It’s hiding from you,” I teased, punching his shoulder before I pulled him close for a tight hug, “I’m gonna miss you bunches, you know.”

Henry’s grip tightened before he pulled back to show me the tears in his eyes. I gave him a sad smile, knowing that familiar look in his eye; he agreed but didn’t want to admit it.

“Don’t worry, Henry. I’ll only be a call away if you ever need to talk to me,” I said, putting my hands on his shoulders, “and I’ll be a nine hours’ drive away if you ever need me in person.”

He cracked a smile that was identical to my own and let out a deep breath that turned into a shaky laugh.

“Shut up, midget. Go catch your flight.” Henry laughed, shaking his head to compose himself. His blonde hair was tucked away in a red hat with a big, fancy ‘O’ embroidered in gray and black on its face. My heart swelled with pride to see it, too.

“Ditto!” I laughed while reaching down to grab my bags. “Well, I ought to get going. Leila’s been waiting on me for a while”

“Travel safely and call us when you land, no matter the time!” Mom said, hugging Dad and pulling Henry close. My eyes burned with tears as I nodded.

“Can do,” I shakily breathed, “I love you guys.”

Mom blew kisses my way and Dad smiled. Even Henry gave me a rare, genuine grin. I waved, and with a final glance, turned around and headed to the gate that was just behind me without looking back.

The weight of the bags in my hands doubled with each step towards Leila. She was sitting in the waiting area, her bags all around her, scrolling through her phone. Her straight black shoulder length hair was accessorized with a jade green headband, matching her comfy outfit that consisted of a matching jade green tee and a pair of workout leggings.

“Took you long enough, you slowpoke!” Leila smiled, patting the blue seat next to her as she tucked her phone in her backpack. I dropped my bags in relief as I sat down next to her. “How emotional were your parents?”

“Enough to make me almost cry?” I laughed, wiping the wetness below my eyes. “Well, maybe I did cry a little.”

Leila laughed and wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “It doesn’t take much to make you cry, Charlotte. But I am beyond glad to see that you held in most of your alligator tears.”

We both laughed, though our laughter faded after about a minute, turning into a stressed silence...

“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” I said while taking a deep breath. After almost a year of building up the nerves, the day was finally here. College...adulthood...life...

Leila turned to me, her eyes showing the most vulnerability that I’ve ever seen in them, and took a deep breath with me. “We may be crazy, but at least we’re crazy together.”

Bag security was a surprising breeze; little to no lines and no troubles. The security guys even smiled at me. Talk about weird.

Waiting for the flight time was tiring. I did, however, get a text from Henry saying that he’d successfully reached his gate and would be taking off for Ohio at dusk. So that was at least something to keep me occupied for a good two minutes.

Another distraction was to play matchmaker with Leila. It was our favorite pastime in high school, so why not continue the tradition?

“Ooh, that business guy over there wearing the red tie, and...” Leila trailed off, scanning the rows of seats until her eyes focused on a woman talking animatedly on the phone only a few feet away, “her.”

“Wait, the Adrian Raines-looking guy paired with that preppy woman?” I asked, my eyes narrowing. Leila hummed with approval next to me, making me cringe immediately; why, and how, would that work? They were polar opposites!

“Leila, listen. He looks like the type of guy that’d bite your head off if you gave him the wrong coffee order and she looks like the type of girl to organize a charity event. It’s all in the eyes and the cheekbones, even the eyebrows.” I explained, shaking my head. Leila, however, disagreed like she always did.

“They’d balance each other out. He’d soften up and she’d harden up. It’s that simple! Plus, it helps that they’re both very attractive...” Leila smirked, her eyes examining them both with a wistful sigh.

“And they’re probably much older than us, so don’t even get ahead of yourself.” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “But back on topic. Are you talking about the whole ‘opposites attract’ lore? Because that’s just not...plausible. Maybe it is in the movies--”

Leila let out an exasperated breath that hindered the rest of my thought. “It is plausible, though! Just think about how you would feel in this situation. Would you want a guy who has a prickly exterior and a mushy-gushy heart?”

My heart started to palpitate as my hands started to sweat. I have learned to loathe Leila’s ‘boy talk’ because it’d always turn into her setting me up with guys that were either way out of my league or guys that just didn’t meet my expectations.

Her question, though, did deserve some deep thought. I guess I can set my pride aside for a mere second and give her some sort of approbation...

So, the question on the table: did I really have a thing for those types of people? Snarky but also impossibly soft? I guess I’ve never really been invested in relationships of my own. The idea of romance, sure, but not for me. It just never really seemed as important as the ACT or my GPA. I’m starting to regret my valedictorian title; I focused so hard on my studies that I forgot about the fun aspect of high school like the average, rebellious boyfriend with a leather coat and a motorcycle.

“You know what, Leila?” I started, carefully testing this ground as to not lead her down the matchmaking rabbit hole, “I would like a guy like that. A sarcastic and snarky guy with a secret soft side? Yes, please. Oh, and glasses that he’d push up his nose when he was frustrated? Even better.”

An uncharacteristic snicker escaped Leila; she was never one to snicker like that, and now that I actually think about it, our boy talk always had that stereotypical effect on her. Man, this hobby was melting her brain. Is there any research out there on how the quietest whisper of romance can turn the human brain to goo? If so, I need to get my hands on it ASAP.

“I knew that you had a thing for that! I’ve been scoping this out for years, Charlotte!”

Of course she has.

“Glad you’ve been looking out for me. That or stalking me, but that’s up to you.” I teased, bumping my shoulder with hers only to receive a tired groan in response.

“Oh, hush. You know exactly how damn predictable you can be sometimes. Don’t even try to contradict that, either.” Leila stated, giving me a side glare. I gave her a bright, innocent smile in response as I fiddled with my duffel bag’s handles.

My mouth opened to bring up another round of matchmaker, but I was overpowered by a loud speaker.

“Flight one-hundred two for New York boarding at gate fifty-six!” A voice said gently over the speakers. Leila and I instantly looked at each other with the same anxious looks that slightly weirded me out.

“Um, Leila--” I stammered, trailing off as Leila hopped up and started to grab her things. She wore the biggest and brightest smile when she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye.

“C’mon, slowpoke! We gotta go! Move those short legs of yours!” Leila beamed, grabbing my duffel bag with her open hand. Before I could retort, I was ushered into standing and walking towards the luggage area.

“Alright, eager one, slow down a bit?” I asked through a huff. Only two months off of the cheer team and away from drama and I’m already bent out of shape.

Leila threw my duffel bag and her own suitcase onto the conveyor belt and so I followed suit.

This...this entire experience was moving faster than I expected.

The plane ride wasn’t really all that exciting. Just Leila falling asleep on me, like I expected. Throw in a couple packs of peanuts, a dash of watching Dirty Dancing and Grease religiously, and a sprinkle of a baby’s obnoxious tantrum...and you end up with the definition of a typical plane ride.

Woo, college. Already kicking off with such an exciting start.

We were about thirty minutes out from The Big Apple when Leila finally woke up from her sleep. I felt my shoulder lighten and then felt the instant soreness from the five and a half hour flight.

“How’d you sleep?” I asked, busying myself by pausing Dirty Dancing on its second playthrough. Of course it was right as Baby started to awkwardly dance down the staircase and onto the bridge.

Leila’s response didn’t come when I thought it would, so I looked over to see if she fell back asleep on the plane’s wall. To my surprise, I saw that her eyes were glued to a figure a few seats over.

The girl who sat there had this gorgeous auburn hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Her black headphones stood out against her pale complexion and revealed the slightest trace of taupe freckles scattered about her cheeks. Also from the girl’s side profile, you could just barely see the tint of matte black lipstick on her lips.

A gentle but teasing smile formed when I looked back over at a wide-eyed Leila, her cheeks now starting to redden with embarrassment.

“See someone you like over there?” I asked, softly nudging her arm with my own. She cleared her throat and blinked rapidly before turning her attention to me.

“I thought she was snoring?” Leila stammered, now rubbing her tired eyes. I looked back over at the girl - her head bobbing slightly to whatever she’d been playing on her laptop - and let out a laugh.

“Sorry to break it to you, Leila, but she’s completely awake.”

Leila whipped her head back around to see and then let another deep blush cover her cheeks. It was hard to notice against her olive skin, though it deepened enough to see from miles away.

“Okay, um, she was snoring a little bit ago. I swear on your life.” Leila said, pressing her hands to hide her bright red cheeks.

I let out another laugh. She had never let herself get this flustered...ever. This was so rare that I’d only ever seen it once and that was back in high school. Leila locked eyes for a solid twenty seconds with a junior guy named Michael Harrison at lunch during our freshman year. She couldn’t stop blushing or stuttering for the rest of the day, and that’s not mentioning the dejected look she had when Michael walked out of the building with an unfamiliar girl on his arm after school.

As expected, Leila only responded to me with her notorious deadly side glare.

“Shut up right this instant, Charlotte Parker.” She hissed between her gritted teeth.

Did I listen? Of course not.

“Looks like Miss Maciel has been struck by Cupid’s arrow...” I teased, dramatically leaning into her lap with my hand against my forehead. She grumbled and leaned her head on her palm, looking out the window. After I sat up, I could see her brown eyes flit over in the girl’s direction every once in a while and couldn’t hold back my smile. Not teasing, but happy.

I knew that wistful look in her eye well enough to know that she’d been enamored.

The plane landed at about seven in the evening. Before getting off the plane, I looked over to the girl. She was frantically putting her computer away in it’s decorated case. I saw a patch with the familiar NYU bobcat...right next to another patch with the name “Skye” in this sort of horror-ish calligraphy.

Huh.

“I think her name is Skye,” I said, leaning in to whisper to Leila, “and I think she’s going to NYU.”

Leila glanced over as she stuffed her neck pillow (that she never used) in her bag.

“Cool. Um...Skye, you said?” Leila said, a blush blooming across her cheeks again.

I’m seriously loving this.

“Yep, Skye. Maybe she’s a freshman like us?” I said. Leila bit her thin bottom lip.

“Maybe,” Leila said, a smirk crossing over her features, “just...maybe.”

Waiting for our luggage was so boring. I decided that it was even worse than waiting for our fight.

“Ah, it’s mine!” I heard a girl a few feet away from my tired figure cheer. She rushed forward to grab a gaudy pink suitcase bedazzled with fake gems. Leila pretended to gag next to me.

“Gross,” Leila sighed, though her eyes suddenly lit up, “hey, wait, those are our bags!”

She pointed toward a cluster of familiar bags on the conveyor.

“Ah! C’mon!” I stammered, rushing forward and grabbing them. We both started to laugh as we lugged them off.

“Jesus, this is heavier than I remember.” Leila huffed, lifting her bag onto her shoulder. I did the same, though almost toppled over because of the weight.

“Are we sure that these are ours?” I asked, unzipping the duffel bag to see my familiar coat. Relief flooded my features as I looked back at Leila.

Her face was a sickly greenish pale.

“Uh, Charlotte, this...this isn’t...” Leila stuttered, carefully shuffling through the bag. There were lots of black sweaters and lots of striped shirts. A couple pairs of ripped jeans, a few rock band tees along with an NYU sweatshirt...and a tag on the strap.

I reached out for the black tag on the strap and flipped it over. It read...

Skye...Crandall?

“Leila, remember that girl from the plane?” I asked, showing her the tag. Her face immediately fell, though I could see the flame of hope flickering in her deep brown irises.

“Oh. My. God.” Leila groaned, taking the tag into her hand. “You’re kidding. Charlotte, this seriously isn’t happening right now.”

Despite her panicked state, I laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

“I’m officially calling you Eliza Schuyler because you are helpless!” I giggled, doubling over. Leila loudly sighed.

“No, no no no...” Leila whispered, zipping the bag closed, “how are we going to find her now? I bet she left already with my bag.”

I sadly let my laughter subside as I wiped the humored tears from my eyes, being careful to not let my light layer of mascara run or smudge into a huge mess. That was the last thing I needed right now.

“Alright. Well, I think we should wait and see if your bag is still here. We don’t know for sure that she has it,” I stated, patting Leila’s shoulder, “but if it doesn’t show, we’ll track this Skye girl down and give her the right bag. Okay?”

Leila nodded, her face still contorted with a mixed emotion of annoyance and helplessness.

“Welcome to New York, where we lose your freaking bags and make you chase after freaking girls that you like,” Leila mumbled in a bad imitation of a New York accent, pinching the bridge of her slender nose.

“So you do admit it! Aww!” I cooed, booping her nose. She caught my wrist and gave me another glare, though this one was downright teasing.

“Shut it or I will mercilessly write on your face tonight with a Sharpie while you sleep,” Leila teased, “but let’s get going. We still gotta find our dorm and the sun’s already starting to set.”

I nodded and gathered up my stuff, taking another look back at the conveyor...

“Oh, everyone’s gone?” I questioned, my eyes scanning the now empty area around us. Leila rolled her eyes and started to drag me along towards the masses of people with her free hand.

“Yes, but now let’s go find this girl before I lose my mind. I need my bag and I can bet that she needs hers.”

#high school story class act #hssca #mc: charlotte parker #mc's twin: henry parker #oc: leila maciel #skye crandall #choices stories you play #no warnings #newwww au!#first chapter complete! 🥳

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idairsauthor · 4 years

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Women On Fire reviews Once Upon A Time

So we have started watching Once Upon a Time and are midway through Season 2. PJ is very into it. It’s a bit weird for me for a specific reason: Because OUAT and WOF both use a lot of fairy tale/fantasy tropes, some things that I think of as very specifically WOF things show up sort of prominently in OUAT and...that’s weird. So when I watch it, I can’t help thinking about how this show would play with the WOF crowd. Behind the cut tag, some of them will be discussing their reactions. It’ll involve spoilers for seasons 1-2 of OUAT and basically all of WOF.

PLAIDDER: All right, so, for the sake of any readers who may remember this show well enough to care where we are with it, we’re about midway through Season 2. Emma and Snow have returned from the Bad Place, and Cora has followed them and has just faked Regina killing Archie, causing Emma et al. to turn on the partially-redeemed Regina, while actually keeping Archie captive on Hook’s invisible pirate ship. OK?

AINE: I suppose WOF’s plot would also sound pretty stupid if you had to summarize it in one paragraph.

THEAMH: I don’t think it would sound THAT stupid.

PLAIDDER: ANYWAY! I just wanted to get your reactions to some of the...you know...correspondences.

THEAMH: Oh, you mean the whole reuniting the separated lovers thing? You know, “We will always find each other!”

ISTRIA: “But will we always lose each other? Is that our fate?”

PLAIDDER: To be honest I do kind of think that given that the show runs for seven seasons, it pretty much is gonna be their fate. The whole ‘waking the pseudo-dead beloved with true love’s kiss’ has already been done so many damn times and yet I fear it will happen with increasing frequency as we--

THEAMH: I’m sorry, you do not have a leg to stand on there. Istri, how many times have we--

ISTRIA: So let’s see...you lose me, you find me, you get taken prisoner, I find you. That’s all just up to Greenhaven. Then you get arrested by those traitors at Lythril’s old castle--

THEAMH: You lose me--

ISTRIA: Trial at Mypril--

THEAMH: You find me. Giant arani fight at Amranth--

ISTRIA: You lose me, you find me.

THEAMH: I think that’s the last time. So that’s...

ISTRIA: No, no, we’re forgetting about “Homeswept.”

THEAMH: Oh FNAA. Idair’s HAIRPINS. Well I mean can you blame me?

ISTRIA: I cannot.

THEAMH: Yes. You lose me, I lose you, we manage to more or less find each other--

PLAIDDER: All right. Yes. I am a sucker for a good reunion. I mean as much as I bitch about it I actually sort of can watch that story line a fair few times before I get tired of it. It’s nice how reciprocal it is with Charming and Snow.

THEAMH: Yes, that IS nice. Can I just ask though...why do all the men look the same?

ISTRIA: They don’t all look the same. There are two kinds. The blonde kind is a prince and the dark-haired kind is a dark user’s familiar.

PLAIDDER: Yes, I will say they made the Maerin figure a lot more interesting on OUAT. I actually kind of like both of them, which is strange, because I fucking HATE Maerin.

LYTHRIL: So do I.

PLAIDDER: Yes. Well, Lythril, since you’re here--

LYTHRIL: The reason you can...attach yourself...to Graham and Hook is that their dark users haven’t properly broken them. The bond is in the playful stage, where both partners are capable of enjoying each other.

PLAIDDER: And...did you and Maerin have...a playful stage?

LYTHRIL: Of course.

PLAIDDER: I’m really glad I didn’t have to write that.

LYTHRIL: It was brief.

PLAIDDER: Well, as long as you’re here...I mean what’s it like for you watching Regina?

THEAMH: Are you sure these people haven’t been reading your--

PLAIDDER: Yes, I’m sure. I’m very sure. Look, I saw Snow White just like everyone else and the evil Queen freaked me out just like everyone else and Lythril does kind of have the evil Queen’s vibe and that’s the transmission pattern. The film Snow White is the common source. WOF and OUAT aren’t borrowing from each other. I never watched the show while I was writing WOF, and I am 100% certain that nobody on the WOF distribution list ended up writing for a nighttime drama on ABC.

AINE: How can you be sure?

PLAIDDER: Look, I asked Lythril a question--

LYTHRIL: And because it will amuse me, I’m going to answer it: I find watching Regina EXTREMELY frustrating.

PLAIDDER: Why?

LYTHRIL: It’s a very long list.

PLAIDDER: Could we have the condensed version?

LYTHRIL: She doesn’t have the commitment. She doesn’t love the work. She doesn’t LIKE being evil.

PLAIDDER: Oh, I think she does like it.

LYTHRIL: No. It looks that way at first, but then they give her this...

PLAIDDER: Backstory.

LYTHRIL: That simpering little girl with her stableboy lover--that was PAINFUL. There is NO way that girl grows up to be the most powerful dark user in the kingdom.

TARIC: If I could--

PLAIDDER: Yes, of course, Taric.

TARIC: I don’t think I realized before that I was a...trope?

PLAIDDER: Yes, I did try to keep that from you. I’m sorry--

TARIC: Is that why I’m...you know...simple?

KEANRIH: Oh Taric. You’re not simple. You’re very complex.

TARIC: No, I mean...not very smart, and not good with words, and generally...not really very interesting.

KEANRIH: Don’t SAY those things about yourself!

PLAIDDER: All right, look, there is this whole thing with girls and horses and even though I never had a horse I did sort of become fascinated with horses for a while and yes, you two were a trope, but so are Theamh and Istria. I mean there were people back in the day who categorized WOF as a Xena a/u.

AINE: WHAT?!

THEAMH: Aine, just calm--

AINE: THERE IS NO SUBTEXT. THERE WAS NEVER ANY SUBTEXT. WE DISCUSSED THIS EXPLICITLY--

PLAIDDER: Aine, you cannot do anything about what people do with your story. You write, they read, what happens next is up to the gods. My point is: yes, Taric, you are a cheesy romance trope, I am very sorry, but I did do my best to give you the same kind of character depth that I gave everyone else, which is something that definitely DOES NOT happen with Daniel. So you are both the same trope but Daniel is a lot more...trope-y...than you are.

KEANRIH: Also I would never have turned you into a zombie.

TARIC: Thank you.

PLAIDDER: Look, speaking of zombies staggering around heartless, can we get back to Lythril’s take on--

LYTHRIL: Despite all the other fnaa you’ve pulled on me I feel almost moved to thank you for never giving me a backstory...if THIS is what it looks like.

PLAIDDER: Well...to some extent it inevitably does, because nobody’s just born evil.

LYTHRIL: No, but not everyone has evil thrust upon them. Some of us chose it.

PLAIDDER: Well, Rumplestiltskin--

LYTHRIL: Do not SPEAK TO ME about that BLASPHEMY.

PLAIDDER: Well I don’t think they mean the same thing that you mean when they say “Dark One”--

AINE: Are you SURE they haven’t read your books?

PLAIDDER: YES I AM SURE!

LYTHRIL: She wants to be redeemed? She wants to be a better mother? WHY? Why does she want to be a mother at all? I didn’t want that for a steaming hot second.

PLAIDDER: Oh, you are obsessed with fertility. OBSESSED.

LYTHRIL: Dark magic and maternity are profoundly incompatible.

RENNA: My gleacha they are.

LYTHRIL: Your entire *existence* proves my point. Take Regina out of the Enchanted Forest and she turns into YOU. An idiot who would choose some child over magic and power. I hate Storybrooke Regina. Always weak, and incompetent, and--

RENNA: I was strong enough to kill YOU.

LYTHRIL: You had help.

PLAIDDER: I actually don’t hate Storybrooke Regina’s redemption arc. I mean I don’t know how it’s going to end, but--

ISTRIA: You call that a redemption arc?

PLAIDDER: Oh dear.

ISTRIA: She doesn’t understand the FIRST DAMN THING about redemption.

THEAMH: She yells at the screen a LOT when Regina’s on it.

ISTRIA: You’re all hurt when people don’t want to invite you to their parties. Of course they don’t! You ruined all of their lives! And except *sometimes* regarding Henry, you have done NOTHING to live it down!

THEAMH: Like that.

ISTRIA: Redemption is not about getting people to like you. It’s about taking responsibility for the harm you’ve done and trying to undo it. Whether people *like* you again is irrelevant. It’s not about you and what you want any more, that’s the point.

PLAIDDER: Listen, this cannot go on forever, and I don’t want to quit without talking about the hearts thing.

LYTHRIL: Yes. The hearts thing.

AINE: I just don’t see how you can be ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that nobody who writes for that show has--

PLAIDDER: For the love of Pete, Aine, in the story of Snow White the evil Queen says she wants the huntsman to rip out Snow White’s heart and liver and bring them back to her and that is where ALL of these chest-punching heart-ripping evil women in black came from.

LYTHRIL: It’s HILARIOUS. Nobody needs THAT many hearts.

PLAIDDER: Well I think she uses these hearts for different purposes than--

LYTHRIL: Every time I watch her or Cora do that I have to pause it because I’m laughing so hard. Where’s the blood? Where are the screams? Where are the broken ribs and the--

THEAMH: Could you not--

LYTHRIL: And this glowing red Lucite thing that comes out--

ISTRIA: I know!

LYTHRIL: That’s not a heart. I don’t know what that is but it’s not...hearts are bloody, they’re warm, they pulse, they’re--

THEAMH: They’re messy. Really, really--

LYTHRIL: That’s the whole POINT of a heart, that’s why people miss them in the first place.

THEAMH: Yeah, they’re like...that’s where the whole soul/body thing happens, at least if you’re heart seated, and it matters that it’s all squishy and misshapen and--

LYTHRIL: They’re flesh. Hearts are flesh. They’re meat. That’s the point of hearts.

THEAMH: ExACTly!

[high-five begins]

ISTRIA: HEY! Are you both INSANE?

[high-five aborted]

PLAIDDER: Can I at least get your thoughts on Regina’s fashion sense?

[Everybody laughs]

AINE: Who is MAKING all those gowns for her? Who is doing her hair? Where does she get the materials?

PLAIDDER: And why does she lead with her cleavage, even in battle?

LYTHRIL: Oh come on. I have seen your illustrations.

PLAIDDER: What? They’re nothing like--

LYTHRIL: Shriias, back me up here: does she or does she not have me doing everything tits out?

THEAMH: I do have to admit--

PLAIDDER: No! Your outfits are--

LYTHRIL: Very tight.

PLAIDDER: Well sure but--

THEAMH: At least she’s never drawn you naked.

PLAIDDER: LOOK.

LYTHRIL: I don’t mind. Sincerely, I do not mind being the sexiest woman in this universe--

[confused and vehement shouts of protest from all assembled]

PLAIDDER: All right all RIGHT! There will be NO MORE discussion of costuming! Or hearts! Or competitive sexiness!

CHANDRA: Are we not even going to TALK about Mulan?

PLAIDDER: And another country is heard from.

CHANDRA: You know I heard there was going to be queer-baiting in this show and all through season one I was like, where is it? All the men seem very very straight to me.And then Mulan and Aurora show up and it’s like, oh, I see it now.

PLAIDDER: Yes. Well...

CHANDRA: “I promised Prince Phillip I would protect you and I will fight both of these other hot women to do it!”

PLAIDDER: All right, point--

CHANDRA: Mulan literally holds Aurora’s heart in her hands and actually PUTS IT BACK IN HER CHEST--

PLAIDDER: Sure--

CHANDRA: I mean even those two over there never got THAT close. And then the NEXT THURKING LINE: “Let’s go see if we can bring my useless dead boyfriend back to life!”

PLAIDDER: I did notice--

CHANDRA: You’ve got this intense, smoldering woman in armor staring at you with love beaming out of her eyes and--I mean if you’ve got Mulan, WHO NEEDS PHILIP?

PLAIDDER: You know, some women ARE straight, and--

CHANDRA: Everyone ELSE gets to bring their true love back with a kiss but Mulan and Aurora have to do it through open heart surgery?

PLAIDDER: OK, but the coding makes it more intense and more interesting. Admit it.

THEAMH: You didn’t code us.

KEANRIH: Or us.

PLAIDDER: Yeah, well your story was never published, was it?

AINE: You regret that?

PLAIDDER: No. I really don’t. I honestly don’t know what would have become of all of you if I’d had to really try to make you marketable.

CHANDRA: But that was the 1990s. This was freaking 2011.

PLAIDDER: All right, this has gone on long enough. Are we going to finish Season 2 or not?

LYTHRIL: I think your spawn has doomed us to it.

PLAIDDER: Well...are you enjoying any of this?

LYTHRIL: I enjoy imagining ways to kill Cora.

PLAIDDER: You know, Lythril, we never found out what your mother was like.

LYTHRIL: Thank the Dark One for that.

PLAIDDER: Or if you’d ever been in love, before...

LYTHRIL: Never.

PLAIDDER: You sure about that?

LYTHRIL: NEVER.

PLAIDDER: Because something did go on with you and Ulnach at scoil, and I go back and forth on what exactly it was, but I will tell you, sometimes in my mind it looks a lot like a Cinderella AU.

LYTHRIL: You’re not going to actually write that, are you?

PLAIDDER: Probably not. See, this is kind of interesting to me as an idea, but if I actually committed to it, I think I would--

LYTHRIL: Because that would be a GREAT way to lose a heart.

PLAIDDER: Well look. We complain, but we’re all having fun here, right? I mean you’re enjoying getting together and making fun of your...counterparts?

ISTRIA: I will admit, it is sort of fun.

THEAMH: It’s better than talking about American politics.

PLAIDDER: All right, let’s wrap this up before Conn shows up. Thanks everyone; I’ll see you at the end of season 2, maybe.

#wof #ouat #once upon a time #spoilers #meta review

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mysteli · 5 years

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freaky-fridayed (es crack one-shot)

A/N: now this fic is basically just a bad joke and i had the idea when i watched jumanji 2 today. got reminded of the scene in the last endless summer chapter where michelle and aleister switch bodies. thought it would be pretty funny. all the rights go to choices and the jumanji 2 script. hope you enjoy this!

Warning: just a few inappropriate jokes

Words: 1775

PERMA TAG LIST: @brightpinkpeppercorn@cocomaxley@hopefulmoonobject@alesana45 @jellybean-marshmellow@mymandrake@regrettingnathan@dobie2112@princessstellaris@mechaspirit@skyila @mind-reader1 @xo-endlessmayhem-xo@sakaily@justboredtrash@regina-and-happiness@annekebbphotography. @endlessly-searching-for-you@reginasayeed@zigortega4life@eileendannie@diamondoasis@speedyoperarascalparty@emomoustache@lostlightningbug@endlesstaylormckenzie @alekai-sayeed@akrenich@vickypoo91@nitta-jaeguet@femmeshep @hayden-park@mkatschoicesblog

Let me know if you wanna be tagged! 💗and let me know if the tags work because Tumblr is acting up.

Masterlist

ENDLESS SUMMER FAN FICTION FREAKY-FRIDAYED

It feels like forever since they’ve been walking. Exhaustion is kicking in everyone as they slowly trudge through the trees, trying to make their way back to the Vaanti. Luckily, they were able to escape the MASADA complex before Rourke managed to catch them. Good news is everyone is happy and healthy. Well... almost everyone.

Michelle and Aleister definitely suffered the most in the aftermath of this crazy mission. Everyone may be alive and well, which is a clear relief but... Michelle and Aleister still lost contact with their bodies. That’s right. In the words of Diego, they’ve been Freaky-Fridayed! Of course, this isn’t the worst thing that could have happened but to them it is.

What makes it worse is that it’s extremely amusing to the rest of the group, especially Craig and Zahra, who have been teasing the switches two about it since they escaped. So far, there hasn’t been a real way to reverse it but there is hope that the Vaanti might know what to do.

They’re about halfway back to Elystel, when suddenly Michelle (in Aleister’s body stops walking) clutching her knees out of exhaustion. “Oh my god... Aleister. How do you walk on these?” She questions in disbelief, causing Aleister (in Michelle’s body) to swerve around and narrow his eyes at her.

“The real question is, how do you walk around with all this makeup caked on your face? Especially when it’s this hot out and it feels like your face is melting the entire time! The only perk is making you look and feel slightly less terrible. It’s preposterous!”

Everyone else stops in their tracks, watching the situation play out with curiosity.

Michelle shakes her head harshly, pointing sharply at Aleister. “No, dude! Don’t be putting posh ass words in my mouth!”

“Oh really? You’re not a fan of that? Well then I’ll just do it more!”

Before Aleister can play out his joke, Sean steps in and forms his worried expression that painfully convincing, especially in situations like these.

“Can you guys please calm down? We’re gonna get to the Vaanti any faster with you two fighting this way?” Sean complains, folding his arms solemnly and eyeing the two with expectance, signalling for them to set aside their differences and wait patiently for this to be over.

“Fine. I refuse to apologise however!” Aleister clarifies, throwing his hands on his hips and stomping towards the front.

“Yeah. Well, I wasn’t gonna fucking say sorry either!” Michelle calls after him, squinting as Aleister wanders off in a huff.

The journey continues back to the Vaanti and things only seem to get worse and more awkward as the adventure goes on. Michelle and Aleister share unmissable glares from time to time and it’s insanely clear that they cannot wait to be back in their own bodies. Safe and sound.

Suddenly, Michelle pauses once more and pokes Sean’s shoulder, alerting him to look at her and he can’t help but reveal his shock and alarm when he’s reminded about the whole freaky friday situation. He takes a deep breath and shakes off his surprise, forming a small smile.

“What’s up... Michelle.” Sean struggles to get her name out while only seeing Aleister’s appearance before him.

“Sean... this may be kinda awkward and I’ve been dreading it for about an hour now but... I really need to go the bathroom.” Michelle abruptly declares, her embarrassed tone a mere whisper and Sean furrows his brows out of confusion.

“Can’t you hold it in?” He questions and Michelle simply shakes her head.

“Ah shit.” Sean curses under his breath, hesitantly turning to Jake for assistance. “Yo, Jake. We got kind of an emergency over here.”

Jake pecks his princess on the forehead before following Sean over to Michelle. He barely manages to hold back a laugh when he notices her. “Well, fuck. Don’t you look happy?”

“Shut the fuck up, Jake.” Michelle snaps, clenching her fists out of annoyance.

“Now, now. Malfoy would never swear. You gotta at least get in character, Meech.” Jake counters, his classic smirk making an appearance and Michelle is too tempted to slap him in return. “I’m kidding. What’s the problem?”

Sean reluctantly exhales and prepares to speak. “...Michelle needs to use the bathroom.”

Jake barely stifles a laugh, biting the inside of his mouth hard. “Oh... were like a couple of miles from the Vaanti. Can’t it wait?”

Michelle shakes her head in response. “If you make me wait... I will piss in Aleister’s pants.”

“Holy shit. That might actually be funny!” Jake retorts, clapping his hands together proudly and releasing an ounce of his laughter before being silenced by Michelle’s deadly glare. “What exactly do you need from me then?”

“I really don’t wanna do this alone so can you like... show me how it’s done?” Michelle awkwardly requests and Sean and Jake are immediately repulsed.

“Please tell me you’re joking!” Jake pleads, running a hand through his sandy hair in slight embarrassment.

Sean raises an eyebrow in suspicion. “Come on Meech. You had to have heard it the way we heard it, right? It’s... weird.”

“Trust me, boys. This is much weirder for me than it is for you. I won’t look, I promise! You just need to tell me what to do!” Michelle tries to reason with both men and it’s clear their resistance is beginning to break.

Sean glances at Jake timidly, shooting him an unreadable look. “Uh... she’s got a point, Jake. She said she won’t look so...”

Jake is still clearly not convinced, face palming hard. “So what?! Why not ask Raj or Craig or even ask Aleister how his dick works!”

“Come on... its not that bad. I promise we’ll never speak of it. Just tell everyone we’re taking a break and going to collect some firewood or something?” Michelle suggests and that seems to be Jake’s breaking point.

“Fine.”

So they come up with the excuse and they go to “collect firewood”, which will be the result of this story no matter what. This will never be spoken of by any of them. They can’t risk embarrassment over something this fucking ridiculous. It’s so weird and confusing but if it’ll help Michelle, they should probably do it.

They find a deserted, secluded part of the woods. Soon, they feel safe that no one or anything will pass by. It’s a mostly empty island anyway, who would come by? With that, Michelle, Sean and Jake all find a tree, spaced out but still close. Sean and Jake are especially careful about where they hide themselves because they’re not ready to reveal their... privacy to Michelle quite yet.

Michelle watches in amusement as Sean adjusts himself behind a rock, making sure the bottom half of him is not in anyone’s view. “Sean, what’s the big deal? I’ve seen your dick hundreds of times.” She suddenly claps back and Sean’s eyes widen with shock. Jake scoffs mockingly and chuckles like there’s no tomorrow.

“Still, Michelle! We’re not with each other like that anymore so it’s weird plus... you’re Aleister!” Sean retorts but his words are mostly weakened by Jake’s obnoxious laughter.

“Tell me, Chanel. Is it big or small?” Jake randomly asks and Sean launches a jagged rock at the pilot in reaction. Michelle just raises an eyebrow skeptically.

“Oh, are you interested, Jacob?” She teases and Jake’s expression falls defensive instantly.

“What? Fuck no. It was a joke.”

Sean decides to play along with the joke, smirking slyly. “Are you sure, Pilot? You sure you haven’t been thinking too much?”

Jake just falls quiet and a momentary silence intoxicates in the air, making the energy even more awkward then before. By then, Michelle feels a desperate urge to chime in.

“Okay... so how do we do this?”

Sean swallows hard, realising the moment he’s been dreading is finally here. “Oh... it’s, uh, easy. You unzip... take it out... fire away.” He instructs and Michelle processes his words as Jake clears his throat to add an extra thing.

“Remember to aim, Maybelline. It’s very important.” Jake mutters and another silence invades thanks to his unusual words. He simply shrugs his shoulders in return. The only sounds heard are the guys (and Michelle) unzipping their pants and preparing to ‘fire away’.

The icy silence is suddenly broken by Michelle gasping as she begins to act out Sean’s instructions. “Oh my god, guys! There is literally a penis attached to my body right now! Though, I really wish it wasn’t Aleister’s penis because this is an image I will never be able to erase from my memory.”

“Oh god... I don’t even wanna know what that looks like.” Jake chimes in, forcing a fake vomiting sound effect and Michelle giggles in response.

“Still, it’s kinda cool! Oh my god, this is so weird.” Michelle’s growing excitement is kind of worrying. “Logan! Come look at my penis!”

“No! Don’t you dare bring Princess over here!” Jake snaps and Michelle shakes off his irritation.

“See it’s not that bad, is it Meech?” Sean assures, turning to face Michelle only to find her tilting her head in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Sean. “What the fuck, Michelle?” He reacts, moving his body further away from her view. “You don’t look over here!”

“Sorry.” She responds idly, clearly unfazed.

“You never look... it’s a thing.” Jake informs Michelle and she nods understandingly, turning her head back towards the situation before her. She narrows her eyes, trying to focus.

“Ok... good boy. We’re gonna take this nice and slow and no one is gonna get hurt.” Michelle adjusts the pitch of her voice and it’s almost as if she’s communicating with... the penis? Jake and Sean share a look before barely holding back more laughter. “Now what?”

“Blast off!” Jake exclaims. “And aim! Don’t forget to aim!” He adds once again, causing Sean to eye him skeptically.

“What is with you and the aiming? Seriously, Jake, what happened to you?”

“Can we not talk about this in mixed company?”

All of a sudden, their confrontation is interrupted by the slow sound of liquid dripping down the rock. Clearly, Michelle has finally done it. “Wow... wow... wow!” She’s genuinely amazed that she’s managed to pull this off. “Oh, this is so much easier!”

“Right?”

“Yeah, because you have like a handle!” She exclaims. It’s almost frightening how fascinated she is by this. Before, she was complaining her ass off about being in a male body but now it’s appearing like she never wants to leave. “The fact that I’m not instagramming this right now is insane!”

#kind of an uneven ending but I hope you enjoyed it none the less #playchoices #choices #pixelberry #choices stories you play #fan fiction #crack fic #choices crack fic #endless summer #es #choices es #Jake mckenzie #Sean gayle #michelle nguyen #writing

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gray-autumn-sky · 6 years

Text

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished, Chapters 5, 6 and 7

Regina’s eyes flutter open, and the first thing she notices is that the cellar is darker--and then after that, she realizes that Robin is still holding her. Her cheeks flush with embarrassment as she pulls back, remembering what she allowed to happen between them--but when she looks at him, he’s not looking at her with any judgement.

“You slept well,” he tells her easily, his voice just above a whisper. “You needed it.”

Swallowing, she nods, bristling a bit at the lack of warmth she feels now that she’s away from him. “Mm, yes,” she nods. “I… is that your way of telling me that I was cranky?”

He grins. “Not cranky,” he says slowly. “Just… very clearly tired.”

Her eyes narrow and she feels her defensiveness prickling at her--and she knows that it’s not him bothering her. But she’s always been good at sabotaging herself. It’s almost like an instinct for her, a way to push back against her own choice and feelings, to cast blame elsewhere--and she hates it, though, no matter what, it always feels like she’s incapable of stopping it once it’s started.

“What are you implying?” she hears herself ask, unwilling to admit the obvious in that she was actually tired.

“Look, I’m just saying that it’s been a rough couple of days for you.”

He doesn’t engage the way that she wants him to and she frowns. “But--”

“Stop.”

“What are you--”

“I’m not going to argue.”

“But--”

“No.” Robin grins and crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what this is, exactly, but I’m not going to participate in it.” She’s not entirely sure how to respond to that, but when she huffs and folds her arms, he laughs softly and watches her with those kind, sparkling blue eyes. “You did this yesterday, too.”

“If you don’t like my company--” At that, she grimaces, wondering why she can’t just drop it. “I’m sorry,” she mutters. “I can’t seem to get a handle on… well…”

“Like I said,” he says, his voice low but soft. “It’s been a rough couple of days.” She nods and settles back against the cold wall of the cellar, folding her legs beneath herself and pulling his cloak right around herself--and she feels guilt bubbling up at her core as that little voice returns, telling her that this won’t end well for him. “I know how tense I feel. I can only imagine that it’s doubly so for you.”

She nods--and then, sighs. “I don’t like feeling… confined.”

“No one does.”

“Well, I just… when I was little and then again when I came to Salem to live with Leopold, I…”

Her voice trail and her eyes pinch closed, and she can almost feel Leopold shoving her into a darkened closet as memories of being left alone in the dark swirl through her head. Just thinking of it, her chest tightens and it's a struggle to breathe. Her fists ache as she if she’s already been pounding on the doors for hours, her throat sore from screaming as she tamps down the anger bubbling at her core, wondering how it is that no one seemed able to hear her.

It’d always been like this, ever since she was a girl, and for the life of her, she struggled to understand how to be good. The rules seemed ever-changing, and she just kept getting herself into trouble. She didn’t try to, but it always happened. Leopold told her that she didn't have a moral compass, and her mother always told her she didn’t understand the way the world worked--and she supposed, both of those things were true. She didn’t have a good gauge of her actions--and what led her to this cellar was a perfect example. She thought she was defending her step-daughter and protecting her from harm, but in reality, all she was doing was sealing her own fate--and what seemed like giving in to her vulnerability and allowing herself a distraction and comfort would likely lead to the demise of someone who’d shown her nothing but kindness.

“I shouldn’t have let myself--”

“You don’t regret what happened between us, do you?”

“No,” she admits, her cheeks flushing with warmth and embarrassment. “But still, it’s not something--”

“I won’t spread it around, you know. I won’t… tell anyone.”

“Who would you tell?” she asks, a sardonic little laugh bubbling up from her. “If you told anyone you’d been with me, you’d hang.”

“Or be accused of--” He sighs. “Yeah, I’d hang.”

“You could leave, you know.” Robin’s brows arch. “I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

“And what would happen to you if I did that?”

“That’s not really your concern.”

“I think it is,” he counters, crossing his arms in an annoyingly stubborn but sweet way. “I think you are my concern.”

“Why?” she asks, bristling at his show of kindness. “Because you had sex with me?”

Robin’s eyes roll, but he doesn’t look at all put off. “No,” he says easily. “Because we’re in this together.”

“We don’t have to be.”

“I know that, but I am the one who broke you out of that jail cell, and I am the one harboring a fugitive. If I leave who's to say you wouldn’t give me up?” Again, his brow arches and he grins. “Look, I’m not going to drag you off and make you marry me just because we slept together or… anything equally extreme, but until I know that you’re safe, you’re stuck with me.”

“Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you so intent on saving me?”

He shrugs and his grin fades. “It’s what I do.”

Something in his voice changes and makes her curious--and more than anything she wants to shift both the conversation and her thoughts away from herself. “Do you, um… want to…”

“Talk about it?” he asks, folding his arms much like she did before. “Not especially.” She frowns, and he softens and sighs. “There’s not much to it.”

“Much to what?”

“The story.”

Nodding, she bites down on her lip. “It’s just… you know so much about me and--”

Robin’s eyes roll. “You just want another distraction.” Her eyes fall away from his and she feels guilt pang at her core, embarrassed once more, but this time because she’s trying to use something that’s likely personal and painful for him for her own amusement.

Well. Not quite amusement, but--

“Her name was Marian,” he says, sighing and waiting for her to look up. “She died because of me.”

“Oh,” Regina breathes out, her chest tightening. “You don’t have to--”

“It’s fine,” he says. “I just I miss her and talking about her reminds me of that.” And then he shrugs, a sad little smile edging onto his lips. “I always forget that I like remembering her.”

“Did you love her?”

Robin nods. “Very much so.”

Swallowing hard, Regina hesitates. “Did you… I mean, did she… know how you felt about her?”

“I’d like to think so,” he admits, laughing gently. “After all, we were planning to marry.”

“Oh, Robin that’s--” Her eyes press closed and she looks away, shaking her head and hating that this is where she brought their conversation. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he tells her. “I meant it when I said I like talking about her.”

Reaching out, Robin touches his hand to her knee. “How did you meet her?” she asks, looking up--and before she can assure him that he doesn’t have to answer that or apologize for an imprudent question, he smiles and tells her they’d known each other since they were kids.

“Her mother grew up in the same Wampanoag village that I grew up in. When she married, she moved further south, but her parents would bring her to see her cousins and aunts and uncles and--”

“You?”

“After awhile, yes,” he tells her. “Her father came over as a servant to one of the settlers and then bought his freedom about ten years later. He was… a proud man, as you might imagine, and I knew that I wasn’t good enough for his daughter--”

“I’m sure that’s not--”

“Oh, it was,” he tells her, nodding. “And he reminded me of it often. He told me once that he didn’t trust me and that I’d get Marian into trouble and… and that was the day I told him that I was in love with her and wanted to marry her.”

“How did that go?”

“Not well,” he admits. “But then Marian came in and… and he couldn’t deny her anything, so he agreed to let us see each other.”

Her stomach flops--she wants to smile, but she knows that this is merely a sweet spot in a sad story. “Then what happened?”

“Uh, well, we started to see each other more and more, and that meant more and more people saw us together.” He clears his throat. “I told you about my thieving ways, right?”

“You did.”

“Well, I, um… I stole a necklace and I tucked it away and forgot about it. I meant to pawn it, but…” Robin sighs and shrugs. “Like I said, I forgot… until Marian found it.”

“Was she angry?”

“No,” he tells her. “But she liked it, so I gave it to her and… um…”

“Oh,” she breathes out, suddenly understanding.

“She was accused of theft and when I came forward, no one believed me.” His eyes darken. “Your intruder--” Regina feels her eyes widen. “He, um… he blamed her for other thefts and there was nothing I could do or say to counter that.”

“How, um… how did she die?”

Again, his eyes darken. “She was hanged and then she was taken down and… burned in a fire.” Regina watches as his eyes shift away from her and, perhaps on his instinct, she finds herself reaching for his hand. “I didn’t get to say goodbye to her. I didn’t even get to bury her.”

“I… don’t know what to say,” she murmurs, vaguely remembering Leopold and Gold talking about a native woman who’d quietly been raiding homes in Salem and how she got what she deserved. She hadn’t pressed for details--she didn’t want them--and she’d learned not to question the motives of her husband, much less the church. But she also remembered sneaking off into the woods and sitting in front of a fire as she asked Bondye or Loa or any spirit that might be listening to look out for the woman’s soul because, without knowing the details, she knew that she didn’t deserve to die. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

For a moment, she just sits there, holding her breath and contemplating what to do--and then, in one fluid motion, she shifts herself to the opposite end of the bench so that she’s sitting beside him. She stretches her arm around his shoulders--and though she’s not sure it’s of any help to him, she hopes that she can provide him with even just a sliver of the comfort that he’s brought to her.

Hugging her knees to her chest, Regina watches as Robin sharpens the ends of his arrows with a rock--pulling them one by one from the quiver and rubbing them until their points are sharpened, then tucking them back into their place. In some ways, it’s mesmerizing watching him--though, she’s not sure that it’s him so much as it is that he’s the only thing to provide any sort of entertainment. But she can’t help but notice how focused he is, how much attention he pays to detail, and how nimble his fingers are.

“When did you learn that?”

“Hm?” he asks, not looking up at her. “Learn what?”

“That,” she says, gesturing toward the rock and arrow. “When did you learn to… um… sharpen…” Her voice falters and then it trails off as he looks up at her and grins, and almost as soon as he does, her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I suppose that was a stupid question. Who doesn't know how to sharpen a knife on--”

“I told you a Wampanoag woman took pity on me and raised me?”

“Yes.”

He laughs a little. “She calls me Adahy sometimes as a sort of nickname. It means ‘Boy who lives in the woods.’” A grin twists onto her lips. “It’s quite appropriate. I am a boy who lives in the woods.”

“Of course.”

“Well, when she took me in, the others were quite leery of me.”

“But you were just a child. You--”

“Even then, I understood,” Robin cuts in. “Anaba--the widow--and her brother, Askuwheteau, lived through King Philip's War and--”

“Oh--” She grimaces. Everyone knew about that because men like her husband constantly referred to it, using it as if proof of their superiority. “That’s right.”

“Askuwheteau is a watchman,” Robin explains. “He’s the one who taught me how to shoot.”

Regina nods, biting down on her lip. “Are you very close with them?”

“They raised me.”

“Oh, right--”

“I know that doesn’t always mean close, though,” he says, his voice suddenly gentler as her cheeks flush. “But, yes, I am quite close with both of them.”

She envies that, she thinks--and then, she realizes how crass that seems.

Her life had always been one of privilege and here she was feeling envious of someone who’d lost his parents at a young age, then mistreated by the one whose care he’d been left in. From there, he’d been on his own and then taken in by strangers from another land and culture--then, as it seemed his life was finally coming together, once again, he lost it all.

She didn’t have a right to complain. Though her life was far from perfect and she’d faced her share of hardships, she’d at least faced them in comfort.

Well, up until now…

“Do you hunt?” His brow furrows as his eyes meet hers. “I mean, with, um… the arrows.”

“Yes,” he says easily. “When it’s my turn.”

She nods, shifting awkwardly at her poor attempt to move the conversation, and then she feels a grin tugging up at her lips as she thinks of Robin hunting which only leads to her remembering him flailing and screaming as a tiny bat fluttered away from him--and then, suddenly, she’s laughing.

“Is that… um… a surprise to you? Me hunting, that is?”

“No,” she manages to say, her face scrunching up as she tries to stop her laugh. “I just--”

Robin bristles and his shoulder square. “I’ll have you know that I am a damn good shot. I never--”

“Hunt bats?”

He stops and his eyes widen indignantly, his jaw tensing. “No one hunts bats.”

She nods, and a little snicker squeaks out of her. “Right.”

“They’re fruit bats, they--”

“Wouldn’t hurt a fly?”

Again, his eyes widen as if he’s lost his point. “I was taken by surprise. That’s--”

“Of course,” she cuts in, giggling to herself. “That was it.”

Robin blinks, huffling slightly as his arms cross. “It was dark and… and those things bite and--”

“Turn people into vampires?”

She giggles when his jaw tightens further. “They’ve been known to suck blood and--”

“That’s a myth.”

“It isn��t.”

“Well, it isn’t if you’re an apple or maybe a sunflower.” Robin just stares at her for a moment before shaking his head and looking away, and she feels guilt pang at her core, wondering if she’s taken it too far. “Robin, I’m--”

“Look, just because you’re a witch and you like hanging around creatures of the night, doesn't mean the rest of us do.” He manages through it with a straight face, and then just as she’s wondering if this is really something they’re going to argue about, a grin twists onto his lips, and his blue eyes shine as his laugh rings out. “I’m sure I looked like an absolute fool.”

Nodding, Regina giggles. “We all have our moments.”

“Something tells me you don’t."

“No?”

“No,” he replies. “You seem so graceful and--”

“I’m not sure anyone’s ever said that I have any degree of grace,” she tells him, her smile fading slightly as she thinks of all the times Leopold reminded her of the evilness in her heart, and how she would soon be damned to hell. “Quite the contrary, actually.”

“From where I’m standing, you’ve plenty of grace and poise and… goodness.”

Her cheeks warm. “You… sound as though you might be fond of me.”

“Well, that’s because I am.”

Her brows arch. “You don’t know--”

“I know you well enough to know that I’m fond of you.”

“Well, I suppose, um… given what we did this afternoon... we, um…”

Robin grins and chuckles softly. “We had to stay warm somehow, right?”

“Is that what we were doing?”

“Well, weren’t you warm? I certainly was and--” Regina laughs out suddenly, and his voice comes to an abrupt stop, his head tipping to the side. “What? What’s so funny? I was--”

“I just… I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you.”

At that, Robin practically beams. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” she tells him. “I just… I can’t believe how easily you disregard all of the things that would have everyone else quaking in their boots and fearing their own damnation.” Shrugging, she lets her eyes meet his. “It’s… refreshing to be looked at without judgement or scorn or… whatever other ways people look at me.”

“I… live by my own rules,” he tells her. “I always have.”

She nods. “I suppose you would have had to.”

“And, it seems, you’ve done the same.”

Regina blinks. No one had ever framed her choices that way. “Yes,” she murmurs. “I suppose that’s true.”

Reaching out, Robin takes her hand in his, giving it a little squeeze. She’s not sure what it is, but the gesture has her blushing and looking away, and then sensing her discomfort, he lets go of her hand and settles back against the cellar wall.

“The Wampanoag aren’t far. Just a few miles,” he tells her. “That’s our destination.”

“You’re going to… take me to them?”

“They won’t hurt you. They’re--”

“No,” she cuts in. “That’s not what I meant. I just… they mean so much to you.”

“Which is why that’s where I’m taking you. They’ll hide you if--”

“Robin, I don’t know if--”

“No one will look for you there.” She blinks. It’s true enough. She can’t imagine Leopold giving them enough credit to aid and abet an escaped convict, and he can’t imagine he’d give her the credit to think of hiding amongst them in plain sight. “You, um… you don’t have to stay forever, but it’ll give you time to… um…” He shrugs and beneath his stubbly cheeks, she thinks she sees his skin flushing slightly. “Well, I suppose that’s not for me to decide. It’s not my concern what you decide to do after.”

“No,” she murmurs, feeling an odd stirring in her chest that she doesn’t quite understand. “It isn’t.”

“Eventually, they’ll stop looking, and you can… figure out your next move.” Taking a breath, he looks to the cellar doors. “It’s dark.”

“It is,” she replies, nodding and following his gaze. “Should we--”

“Yes, I suppose we should,” he answers a bit reluctantly, but taking in another breath he rises to his feet. “I’m sure you can’t wait to get out of this damp cellar.”

Swallowing, she can’t help but think of how wrong he is, but can’t find the words to express why that is. So, she lies and agrees that she can hardly stand another moment in the cellar and can’t wait to take in the cool, fresh air--and then, he goes through a plan that she barely pays attention to.

He explains the route in detail, assuring her that he’ll hold her hand so that they don’t get separated--and then, as he pulls his quiver onto his back, her stomach flops and she follows him up the dark stairs. The cold night air hits her face as they emerge from the cellar, and her heart pounds wildly as his fingers curl around her hand as they steal away into to night, barely able to see the path in front of them through the thickness of the trees.

Then, as they wind around the curve of a path toward the river, a light catches her eye.

Robin comes to a halt and his fingers tighten around her hand as her ankles dig into the earth beneath her, and as she looks around, she finds that they’re surrounded. Tears sting in her eyes as the man with the lantern comes forward and when she sees Leopold’s hard angry eyes in the light, her breath catches in her chest--and then, as Robin is ripped away from her, she lets out a scream that echoes through the woods.

She cries out his name and tries to break free from Leopold’s hold, but she knows that it’s no use and struggling will only make them angrier--and if she lets them know how much she cares, it’ll only be that much worse for Robin.

So, she stops and lets them take him.

The stone of the cell feels colder than it did before, and the rain’s returned with a vengeance.

She’s in a different cell this time--a smaller one, positioned in the back of the jail--and this time, she’s been gifted with a view of the gallows. Her wrists and ankles are bound with metal shackles, and the chain that keeps her in place against the wall is less than an arm's length, making it impossible to look away.

Once more, she’d been reminded of the evil inside of her and--when they were alone--Leopold told her that part of her punishment would be to see the suffering she’d caused before she died so the last thing she would think of was pain and suffering she’d brought down upon her lover.

His tone turned bitter at that--at the word lover--and it was almost as if he knew what happened between her and Robin in the cellar. Truthfully, she didn’t care if Leopold knew and she didn’t care if Robin had told him; it didn’t embarrass her that they’d been together in that way and she refused to consider it wrong, given the comfort it brought to her. But what did bother her was the judgement in her husband’s voice as if it proved something about her, as if it proved all of his assumptions right.

To him, it meant that she was evil, that she was a witch and that she deserved to die.

And what was worse was that it likely meant that he’d die, too.

After they were captured, they were separated. She was loaded into one jail wagon and he into another, and when the path at the end of the woods diverged, the wagon carrying him went the opposite way. She was taken back to the jail and Gold had taken a sick sort of pleasure binding her wrists up above her head and whipping her until her back bled.

She’d stood there--naked and on display--the wounds on her back stringing and her wrists and shoulders burning. She’s refused to cry, though, and she refused to beg them stop--then, when Leopold crouched down in front of her and told her the whipping might force the evilness out of her, it took everything in her not to spit in his face. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’d gotten to her...

Though they’d taken Robin on an opposite path, he’d ended up at the church next door. From her cell, she could see it clearly and she’d desperately searched for a glimpse of him. It seemed silly to feel reassured that he was still alive--given that his fate and hers were all but sealed--but when she saw him struggling against the men who dragged him toward the church’s annex, she felt the oddest sense of relief.

The relief was short-lived, of course.

A reverend arrived soon after carrying his bible and a glass bottle of holy water, and she could only assume they were about to perform some sort of exorcism to rid him of whatever demons she’s unleashed on him--and judging from his screams, it didn’t go well.

At sunrise, she’d finally caught of a glimpse of him as two men dragged him to the stocks, shoving him down and forcing his arms into the wooden holes. The locks were tight and even from her cell, she could see that they cut into his skin--and that was the only time she allowed their eyes to meet, and she found his lip was bloodied. He smiled though and offered her a wink, and she forced herself to look away, unable to accept the kind gesture--after all, it was her fault that he was going to die.

Leopold’s words echoed in her ears, cutting at her in a way far more painful than the chains around her or the hard burlap of her dress that scratched against the fresh wounds--and for the first time, she wished that she’d died the day before because had she died, Robin’s fate wouldn’t be tied to hers. She missed the numbness she’d felt the day before and she missed the emptiness and acceptance she’d felt. Her fate was sealed and that was that, and then Robin--who, in less than a day’s time, went from an absolute stranger to someone she cared for deeply, renewed her sense of hope. She hadn’t realized how she’d fought against that and she hadn’t realized how it’d burrowed inside of her and taken hold--and when she looked at Robin, bound and bloodied in the stocks, the regret that filled her was overwhelming and forced her to look away.

Turning away was difficult. The chains that held her against the cold stone wall were not long enough to allow her much movement and what little she could manage made the metal shackles around her wrists cut into her skin--but then, when she expected the chains to tighten, they instead loosened and she heard the sharp found of a brick scratching against another.

She stopped, stiffening as she looked around herself.

The jail was dark, and save the windows, there was no light inside, not even from a fire. She could just barely make out some of the gaunt faces of the other prisoners, but none of them awoke from the noise. Drawing in a breath, she slowly extended her hand out in front of her, grimacing as the bricks slid against each other and the shackles rubbed against her worn skin--and then, the brick came crashing down.

She held her breath and waited, but no one noticed--and when she looked up, she could see Robin eyeing the hole where the brick had once been.

Pressing her eyes closed she drew in another breath, still unable to look at him as her heart beat wildly in her chest and her fingers worked frantically to unwind the changes and shackles. Even though she knew that no one was there, she kept looking up--just waiting to be caught--and when one wrist was free, she easy unlocked the clasps on the shackles that bound her other wrist and her ankles

She felt a thrill run down her spine as her stomach churned both anxiety and exhilaration--and then, she realized that she was still trapped. She might have have freed herself from the chains, but she was still stuck in the cell--and upon that realization her eyes sunk closed and her shoulders slumped forward as she chastised herself for her stupidity, and for allowing herself to, even for just a moment, believe that she might be able to fix this and that may neither she nor Robin would have to lose his life with the coming morning.

Leaning back against the wall, Regina slowly sinks down as tears well in her eyes. Cool air comes in through the hole in the wall, making her shiver as she draws her knees up to her chest in an effort to keep warm--and as she rubs her hands over her knees, an odd memory stirs.

The clasps, she thinks.

They’re pins--metal pins that locked and unlocked the shackles. Hesitantly, she opens her eyes to stare at the open shackle laying on the floor of the cell, just out of her reach. She remembers watching Robin pick the lock on the cellar and how the pick was a long iron pin almost identical to this one--and then, as she slowly reaches for it, she reminds herself that she doesn’t have anything to lose.

It takes a bit of patience to pull the pin from the shackles, but almost as soon as she’s separated it she is on her feet, sticking the pin into the lock. As she wiggles it around in an effort to pop open the lock, she notices another woman in the cell across from hers sitting up on the bench in her cell. She eyes her closely, but doesn’t say anything--and then, as soon as she feels the lock spring open, she throws open the cell and sprints down the narrow corridor to the front of the jail.

The sky is light now and though everything is quiet and still, she knows the guard sleeping only a few lengths away from her would soon wake.

For a moment, she just stands there, contemplating what she should do--and again, Leopold’s words echo deafeningly in her ears.

You’ll watch your lover die.

Heat rises up the back of her neck as she remembers the smug judgmental look on his face and the way his eyes seemed to laugh, and the memory stirs something at her core. Before she can dwell for too long on the memory, she hears the faint sound of a carriage rattling, drawing closer and closer with each passing moment, likely coming toward the jail to take them to the gallows. Her stomach flops at the thought of it--the thought of Gold ordering Robin up onto the platform, forcing him when he refuses and pulling the noose down over his head, and she flinches when she thinks about the platform’s bottom being pulled away and what that would mean for him.

Shifting nervously, she looks back at the sleeping guard, doubting that she’ll have time to free Robin and escape with him--and as her eyes fall upon the guard, she notices Robin’s bow and the quiver full of newly-sharpened arrows propped up against the wall just behind him.

Her skin prickles as she turns toward the guard and she swallows hard as she takes the first step--and then, as she takes another and then another, she feels herself growing bolder and less afraid. Beneath her breath, she starts to recite a prayer for protection--speaking in a language she hasn’t been allowed to speak since her marriage--and when the guard begins to stir and his eyelids flutter, her voice only gets louder.

Regina keeps moving toward him and the prayer begins to sound like a chant, and his eyes open fully, they fill with a false realization that she’s somehow possessed with demonic spirits--and to her great relief, he seems rooted in his place. Her heart pounds in her chest as the guard grips the arms of his chair, his eyes growing wide as she begins to mutter witch in a voice that’s nothing less than terrified--and instead of giving in to her own fear, she takes advantage of his and lets a smile pull onto her lips.

“That’s right,” she tells him. “That’s exactly what I am.”

Reaching across him she holds her breath, fully aware that the man before her is big enough to overpower her and if he merely grabbed hold of her, he’d be able to push her back and it’d all be over for her--but he doesn't do that. Instead, he just cowers fearfully in his place as she takes hold of Robin’s quiver; and then, keeping an eye on him, she also claims the bow.

“Don’t move,” she whispers cooly. “Not a bit.”

“Don’t kill--”

Her brow arches. “That’s a funny request,” she tells him, her voice sounding far more confident than she feels. “Considering the circumstances and what you were going to do to me.”

“I am a good, God-fearing--”

“Stop.” It surprises her that she does, and as she pulls away with the bow and quiver, she catches a glimpse of the key ring tied to his waist with a silky ribbon. “I’d be willing to barter.”

“B-barter?”

“Your life for those keys.”

“B-but--”

“You’re married, right?”

“Don’t hurt--”

“Give me the keys.”

This time, he nods, his fingers trembling as he fumbles with the ribbon as he pulls the ring away from his body and hands it to her. Swallowing hard, she takes it and feels a bit of relief to see it only holds three keys. Backing up, she keeps a watchful eye on him, fully aware that as soon as her back is too him he could easily become more daring--so, with her own hands trembling, she pulls an arrow from the quiver.

It’s harder to do than she once imagined, but as the rattling sound of a carriage grows closer, she realizes that it’s now or never. If she does nothing Robin will likely die, and it’s not like she’ll actually kill this man… just… delay him.

Drawing the arrow back against her cheek, tears fill her eyes--and then as the rattling becomes louder, the guard begins to babble. He apologizes and and he pleads--and somehow, that only succeeds in infuriating her. No one listened when she cried, just as no one listened to the cries of a dozen women who hadn’t done anything wrong, but nonetheless died; and no one listened to Robin’s pleas--and unlike Robin and the others, this man wasn’t innocent. He’d aided death and torture, and he hadn’t cared about the lives he ruined. He didn’t care about the motherless children left behind or the young girls whose lives were abruptly cut short--and as she considered that, she found it much easier to pull back the arrow and as she released it, she watched the guard’s eyes widen.

Momentarily, she wondered what he was thinking or if he felt any remorse--but the wondering was fleeting. She didn’t care, and as she let the arrow snap forward, she didn’t wait to see where it struck him; she just knew the blow would not be a fatal one.

Regina ran toward the stocks as the rattling carriage drew closer and she smiled wistfully as she looked at Robin. His head was slouched to the side and he a little blood trickled from his mouth, and in other circumstances, she might consider death a better option than this--but not today.

“Hey…”

“Regina, what--”

Stooping down in front of him, she lets her hand coast up his stubbly cheek--and as his blue eyes turned up to meet hers, she leans in and presses a quick kiss to his lips. “I’m saving you.”

“You shouldn’t--”

“Can you argue later?” she asks, her brows arching as she rises up, keeping an eye on the road as she tries to first key--and when it doesn’t fit, she tries another.

In the distance, she could hear a voice calling commands to a horse--and her breath catches in her throat. They were just around the bend and--

The lock clicks open and her eyes widen in surprise--and then, as she stands up, she opens the stock and Robin is able to stand.

He looks a bit wobbly as he straightens himself out. “Are you insane?”

“No, but the guard in there is under the impression I’m possessed by some sort of evil, voodoo spirit,” she murmurs easily, looking between Robin and the road and watching as the horse and carriage comes into view. “And that’s really no way to thank me for saving your ass.”

“I believe you’re just returning the favor,” he retorts, laughing softly as he reaches for her--and together, they steal off into the woods and, this time, running to their freedom.

#oq ff #outlaw queen #oq au #spooky oq #salem witch trials au

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biasedwriting · 6 years

Text

Tales of a Consulting Firm ||22||

Find all parts here

We love feedback so you can ping either @vixxscifiwritings / @animeotakupooh or me :)

Haneul jolted when her phone buzzed, she sighed reaching for it to see a text from her classmate from college and friend Park Chanyeol. They texted every now and then when either of them weren’t busy. Sometimes they met up, if Haneul got tired of the people at work, which wasn’t often since they were such an entertaining bunch.

“Your friend in your display picture is hot.”

Haneul blinked before going to check her display picture out. It was a picture of Minah and her from one of their ‘girls day out’ days. Her eyes widened in horror as tapped back to the chat and texted back instantly.

“I’m sorry what?!”

“She’s hot.”

“She’s Kim Minah and you can’t have her.”

“Dambi has set me up on some blind date.” Minah’s voice piped up as she dropped down beside Haneul after dragging a chair from the empty cubicle which used to be hers. Haneul spun around to gape at Minah who shrugged as she pulled her chair closer.

“Dambi states that he is hot as well. Ergo, I will need your help in the art of seduction.”

“Hold on hold on! You don’t even know his name and what on earth do you mean teach you the art of seduction?!” Haneul gaped at Minah who sighed.

“Remember the last time we went out? You offered me lessons to seduce Taekwoon. But I’m just going to take those lessons so I can have a nice date tonight. Oh, and his name is Park Chanyeol or something.”

Haneul paused and squinted at Minah “ Park Chanyeol… Park Chanyeol from Yonsei University?!”

“Uh, yeah...at least that’s what Dambi told me.” Minah nodded as Haneul whipped her phone out only to freeze. Minah watched in awe as Haneul’s fingers flew over the keypad. Her friend was clearly fuming as a royal pout appeared on her lips.

“He cannot call you hot!” she grumbled at no one in particular as Minah gaped at her, baffled.

“I’m so confused right now, is that an instruction for a session in seduction?”

“I am not teaching you this! Not with that dodo head! Not after he called you hot.” Haneul continued with her rambling as Minah finally lost it and grabbed Haneul’s phone and peered into the screen. Then some realization dawned over her.

“I see you know my blind date. And he thinks I’m hot…”

“He can’t!” Haneul floundered as Minah tried to hold back a laugh before placing her hand on Haneul’s shoulder.

“Kim Haneul, I’m always yours.”

Haneul paused mid ramble before a huge smile spread across her lips as she stood up and spotted Taekwoon heading back into his office.

“SUCK IT JUNG TAEKWOON SHE’S MINE!”

Taekwoon spun around to find the source of the scream and spotted Haneul dancing around in her cubicle. Baffled, just like everyone else who had heard Haneul’s announcement was, he shrugged before getting back into his office.

“Seriously though, he doesn’t look like a bad guy. This might be the only chance I have in the dating game. So teach me your wise ways oh Kim Haneul.” Minah sighed as Haneul sat down and sighed.

“You can do way better than Park Chanyeol...like me!”

“Haneul, we’re both straight.” Minah deadpanned.

“Fine, go for Jung Taekwoon.”

“Who is my boss and is a little too much out of my league. Either way, I don’t think these lessons are going to happen. So tell me more about this Park Chanyeol.”

Haneul plonked back down on her seat and squinted “Hmmm how do I even begin to explain Park Chanyeol?”

“I doubt he is Regina George.” Minah rolled her eyes as Haneul chuckled.

“I mean he’s a pretty good guy, tall, dorky, talented with musical instruments and stuff. Oh! He’s like a hyper beagle!” Haneul began as she watched Minah’s eyes widen.

“I love beagles. They’re so damn cute.”

“Don’t you like cats?” Haneul asked as Minah nodded.

“I do…”

“Taekwoon is like a cat!”

“Uh...I’m more of a dog person. Although I love most animals.”

“Then date meee!” Haneul cried as Minah sighed, this was going nowhere. She stood up, dragging the chair back to its original spot.

“This is going nowhere, I’ll just head back to Admin now.”

“Noooo, fine! It’ll teach you. I don’t approve, but I’ll teach you!”

“You will? Seriously?” Minah asked, raising an eyebrow at Haneul.

“Uh… yeah! What do you want to know?” Haneul asked, wracking her brains. She had agreed to teach Minah how to seduce someone but had no idea how to go about it herself.

“Okay. Well, first things first. You need to be well groomed. You can’t be sexy if you look horrible” Haneul started. Minah nodded to herself. This was easy.

“And second… you need to have a good outfit! Not necessarily sexy but comfortable and flattering. If you’ve got it then you should flaunt it!” Haneul told her seriously.

“That feels like the theme of a Beyonce song” Minah laughed.

“She is the best example! Unapologetically sexy. She doesn’t even have to try to seduce” Haneul said with a sigh.

“I know what you mean!” Minah agreed enthusiastically. “But I am most definitely not Queen Bey level.”

“Don’t you worry! When we are through, you will be!” Haneul proclaimed.

“Now this is where it gets tricky so you need to watch carefully. The third tip is to look approachable but also be unavailable at the same time” she told Minah.

“Huh?” Minah asked, confused by the statement.

“Hmm… let’s see. Aha! Wonshik is coming this way” Haneul noted.

“Damn. He must be looking for me. I really should be getting back to work” Minah started.

“Nuh uh! What’s the advantage of seduction if I can’t get you a free day when you really need time to tackle a crisis? Leave this to me” Haneul assured the younger woman.

“You don’t need an excuse to seduce Wonshik” Minah teased.

“Excuse you, he is a married man. Also this is only for demonstration. So take notes” Haneul sang. She got up, fixing her hair and biting her lip to make them look a little more swollen. She had her game face on and Minah knew it because she saw the same look in her brother’s eyes as he went for a goal.

“Wonshik! Hi!” Haneul said with a bright smile as she walked up to him.

“Oh… Hi Haneul” Wonshik replied with a smile.

“Would you mind if I stole Minah for a day? Pretty please?” Haneul asked, leaning into his space while giving him a pout. Minah noted that it wasn’t her royal frustrated pout but a toned down pout that just made her lips quiver. And they definitely had Wonshik’s attention because he glanced down at her and blushed, looking at the ceiling and every else except at Haneul herself.

“Uh... sure” he agreed, stepping back a little.

“Thank you! I have such a busy day and I could really use her help. You are such a sweetheart” she exclaimed happily. Haneul put her hand on his chest as she said so, making Wonshik stutter a little while replying. Haneul smiled at him before returning to her desk.

“I am free all day and so are you now” she declared making Minah wonder what had just happened. “Also important lesson. Know what your enemy’s weakness is. Wonshik gets easily flustered when you touch him. A lot of men are weak to accidental touches.”

“Accidental touches?” Minah asked.

“Yeah! Things like a pat on the back, or hands brushing together. Take Hongbin for example. Brush against his neck for example and he is done for” Haneul told her. “Let’s head down to marketing and you will see.”

“But that’s so creepy. Won’t he see it coming from a mile away?” Minah asked.

“He hasn’t figured it out till date. Speak of the devil” Haneul said, looking at the corridor. Hongbin had just come out of a meeting room and was escorting his clients out. He spotted Haneul and Minah and came over to greet them.

“Hey Binnie! How did the meeting go?” Haneul asked him. Minah opted to wave at him, not wanting to speak and ruin Haneul’s demo.

“Pretty good actually. I really have a good feeling about the proposal the team planned. I am very sure it will get accepted and that will be amazing for us.” he told them.

“Sounds amazing. Oh hey, I think you have something on your neck” Haneul pointed out. Hongbin frowned, rubbing at his neck.

“A little higher actually. Maybe I should …?” Haneul offered.

“Yeah. Sure. I kind of have to rush to my next meeting with Taekwoon” he groaned.

Haneul nodded sympathetically before leaning forward. She brushed away imaginary dirt on his neck extremely delicately. Minah held back a snort because that sort of brushing got rid of nothing. But she could see goosebumps form on his skin.

“There you go” Haneul replied. Instead of pulling her hand away directly, she let it ghost over his shoulder and trailed it down his arm instead. Minah held back a laugh because the reaction was almost instantaneous. The tips of his ears were red and he looked visibly flustered by the sudden proximity between him and Haneul.

“I should get to that meeting” Hongbin said, clearing his throat.

“Bye BeanMan” Minah said, unable to hide her amusement. Haneul glared at her so that she wouldn’t give them away but she couldn’t hide her own grin. Hongbin left quickly and the two of them broke into a fit of giggles.

“Come on. Finances is on the way to the pantry in the other wing and I am craving lemon tea and Hakyeon’s confused expression will be funny” Haneul said leading the way.

“Okay. and pray oh wise one, what is his weakness?” Minah asked her.

“Flattery. Hakyeon knows he is sexy and asserts it, but he rarely expects someone else to up the ante” Haneul said wisely. Minah nodded, following her. This exercise was definitely not what she thought she would be doing today. But it was a good distraction and extremely entertaining.

“Hakyeonnie! Oppa! You look handsome today” Haneul exclaimed, walking into Hakyeon’s cabin. He was free and his door was open and the department heads always took it as an open invitation to come talk to him.

“What do you want from me?” Hakyeon asked, without looking up from his file.

“Nothing! I am not that kind of girl Cha Hakyeon!” Haneul replied dramatically. Hakyeon levelled a look at her, eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“I just thought that you looked really handsome today” Haneul said with a soft smile. Minah blinked at the sudden change in tone. Was that the secret to get Hakyeon’s attention?

“Are you both just playing around?” Hakyeon asked, his cheeks tinged pink from Haneul’s sudden declaration.

“We were just on our way to the pantry to get lemon tea. The other pantry ran out” Minah explained.

“And also to say hi to our sexy friend but he clearly doesn’t want us here” Haneul huffed.

“Why are you suddenly like this today?” Hakyeon asked, embarrassed by the praise.

“I’m appreciating you! If you’ve got it then you should flaunt it! That’s what Queen Bey says, right Minah?” Haneul asked her.

“Absolutely” Minah said in hundred per cent agreement.

“O.M.G talking about flaunting, have you ever noticed the fabled Cha Booty like - “ Haneul started, just to be interrupted by Hakyeon.

“Minah doesn’t need to know! Just go drink your lemon tea!” Hakyeon yelled kicking Haneul out.

“Fine geez” Haneul said, pretending to take offense and walking off. Minah bowed apologetically and followed only for both of them to stop when Hakyeon had gone back in. They doubled back and snuck a peek into his cabin to see him smiling to himself as he signed papers and gave each other a high five.

“Lemon tea, lemon tea, lemon tea…. Han Sanghyuk! Perfect timing! Minah, Sanghyuk is a bit of a wildcard so watch and learn.” Haneul exclaimed. She had been looking into finding some lemon tea for herself and take a break from the impromptu adventure but they had found Sanghyuk in the pantry. HR sat right next to Finance, Minah remembered. That’s how she had run into Hakyeon on her first day.

Sanghyuk appeared to be in a good mood Minah noted; Haneul approached him holding her phone up.

“Sanghyukkie, I’m starting an Instagram page to put up pictures of handsome guys and you’re first!”

Sanghyuk’s eyes narrowed “Is there something you want Haneul?”

“I just want a picture Han Sanghyuk, stop making a big deal of it. Fine, we’ll just take the picture together Minah.” Haneul rolled her eyes before holding her phone up.

“Huh?” Minah blinked, turning to Sanghyuk with wide eyes before placing a hand on his forehead “why don’t you want to take the picture though? You’re always ready for pictures. Are you ill?”

Sanghyuk reached for Haneul’s phone and grabbed it “I’ll take the picture with Minah.” he said as Haneul gaped at him and mouthed “mommy issues? Noona love? He likes being mothered?” before mumbling “truly a wild card.” as she headed to the pantry to make her lemon tea. She returned to see Sanghyuk still taking pictures with Minah whose smile was faltering as she started to look tired of it.

“Lean in lean in!” Haneul mouthed at Minah who blinked at her before resting her head on his shoulder “amazing!” Haneul shot her a thumbs up before turning to him

“I just wanted one picture of you and you took some twenty with her!” she protested.

“You’re just crazy” Sanghyuk said. He lifted her up quite easily making her shriek and put her quite a distance away from himself. “You’re really crazy today” he said, trying to understand what was happening.

“Well, you are crazy for blushing for pictures with her!” Haneul sing-songed.

“Was it because you liked it?” Minah asked laughing.

“Was it hot Hyukkie?” Haneul asked, imitating Hakyeon’s popular phrase.

“Why do I have to live with this? I should lodge a complaint against the two of you for harassment” he huffed as he walked away.

“I’ll honestly admit that the Sanghyuk attempt was more of a miss than a hit” Haneul said sadly.

“He was always a wildcard. At least we got him flustered?” Minah pointed out.

“He’s probably plotting a hundred ways to embarrass me in return” Haneul frowned.

“There there. Don’t be sad” Minah consoled her by patting her back. If this experiment was meant to continue, there was bound to be some amount of reaction to it.

“So who's next? Dearly beloved Jaehwan?” Minah asked in amusement. If there was a reaction then Haneul had brought upon herself. Haneul choked on her lemon tea.

“No. Uh…. Jaehwan is Aries. If you want to seduce one then uh… just seduce yourself or something. Besides! He is a married man. If there is anyone who should be seducing him it should be Wonshik” she explained as she cleaned herself up.

“I think that you should seduce Jaehwan” Minah teased. If Wonshik got to play target it was only fair that Jaehwan did too.

“No thank you. Maybe you should seduce Taekwoon” Haneul shot back.

“I don't want to! Go seduce Jaehwan” Minah replied.

“Seduce Boss Cat!” Haneul pouted.

“You seduce flower boy!” Minah countered as Haneul waved her hands.

“You seduce Silent and Violent!”

“Fine! You seduce Silent and Violent” Minah grinned.

“Fine! Maybe I’ll do it!.... Wait what” Haneul stopped.

“This will be interesting” Minah grinned. “Or you can seduce Jaehwan. Your choice.”

“I'd rather seduce that Slimy lizard” Haneul grumbled. She took a swig of her lemon tea, finishing it in one go. She poured out another cup and walked out towards the direction of Taekwoon’s cabin.

“Hey Haneul!” Jaehwan called out to her as she passed him in the hallway.

“Later babe” Haneul said, walking on. Jaehwan blinked, smiling at her before walking away. Minah held back a laugh. Jaehwan found her cute even when she did not intend it. She followed Haneul quickly, hurrying because she did not want to miss this.

“Hi” Haneul chirped to Taekwoon as soon as Minah entered the room. She almost keeled over laughing as she found Haneul back hugging Taekwoon with a cup of hot coffee in her hands and Taekwoon at a loss for words.

“Woonie. I brought you coffee!” Haneul said holding the cup up. She shifted to snuggle closer into him and smiled at him.

“How much sugar did you eat, you hyper weirdo?” Taekwoon asked, his face turning red. Why was Haneul so weird? Especially when Minah was around? He looked to Minah for help but she was busy laughing at the scene unfolding in front of her.

“Please get off me. All of this is highly unprofessional” Taekwoon said. He was now sure that Haneul was somehow drunk and he suspected Minah because Sanghyuk was such a bad influence on her. Maybe he should separate the two, is there a way to prevent Minah from joining the HR team?

“I am just doing a coffee run!” Haneul exclaimed, pouting at him.

“I just finished my latte so no thanks” Taekwoon told her waving to the empty cup in front of him.

“You only drink coffee that Minah makes” Haneul grumbled. Yet she made no move to get away.

“I'm trying to work here Haneul.” Taekwoon grumbled, trying to move while not knocking over hot coffee on himself or the desktop.

“Daeeeggguunnii. Try my coffee at least.” Haneul rested her chin on his shoulder comically since his back was too broad for her to entirely engulf him in a hug. Minah was nearly in tears now as she held back her laughter which seemed to escape her in bursts.

“I am not entirely sure of what the hell is going on here. But please leave the coffee on the table and leave this room. I have an important email to decipher.” Taekwoon said firmly as Haneul sighed in defeat sensing the tone of his voice was one which should not be taken lightly. Minah straightened up at the tone too as Haneul detached herself from the boss and left the coffee on his table before shooting him a frown.

“Fine, I’m going to be petty and take our English language consultant away! You can decipher the English email on your own! I’ll help her prepare for her blind date.” Haneul stuck her tongue out at Taekwoon as he gaped at her. He had intended on calling Minah for help but couldn’t seem to get through to her desk phone.

Taekwoon wasn’t sure how to react or which piece of information to react to first - the fact that Haneul was dragging away the person who could help him out or the fact that Minah was going on a blind date. Why was she going on a blind date? Who was she going on a blind date with?

“Haneul, I think I should help him out. It’s the least we can do for putting him through this...whatever this is.” Minah said evenly as Haneul pouted at her. Why was Minah sabotaging everything?! Taekwoon sighed in relief. At least one of his problems were going to be solved. Haneul glared at him as he mouthed “blind date?” to her. She shrugged nonchalantly in response. It was Taekwoon’s turn to glare at her only to freeze when Minah leaned over to read the email. Her arm brushed over his shoulder and arm before reaching for the mouse.

“I’m scrolling up so I can read the whole thing.” she smiled at him before scrolling up and reading the contents of the email intently. Taekwoon only snapped out of it when he heard a snort from the other end of the room as Haneul held back her laughter.

“So,” Minah began in a low voice “these are instructions from the client about the global marketing requirements. The list is rather long, if you want me to read it out, I can. If not, you can forward the email to me and I’ll send you a translated version.” Taekwoon felt her shift against his back before moving away as he cleared his throat. His phone was also buzzing violently on the table.

“I’ll forward the email to you. If you can get back to me…”

“I’ll get it done as soon as possible!” Minah smiled as she caught hold of Haneul, who was furiously texting, and dragged her out. Taekwoon sighed and pulled his phone towards himself and unlocked it to see a barrage of messages from Haneul.

Haneul : YOU CHEATER -_-

Haneul : Why is it absolutely fine that Minah gives you a pseudo back hug?!?!

Haneul : But I

Haneul : Your most beloved junior from college

Haneul : And practical sister

Haneul : Cannot give you an actual hug?!?!?

Taekwoon : Cut me some slack, I did not expect it okay?

Haneul : You were blushing like a baboon’s butt.

Taekwoon : Shut up. What is this blind date business?

Haneul : NOT TELLING YOUUUU

Taekwoon : Stop acting like Jaehwan

Haneul : Stop being an asshole. You love Jaehwan. You also love me more.

Taekwoon : What the hell

Haneul : PLUS Minah loves me and she’s mine. SO SUCK IT.

Taekwoon : Is this what you were screaming about in the morning?

Haneul : …maybe?

Taekwoon : So are you going to tell me?

Haneul : YOU WILL NEVER KNOW YOU CHEATER

Taekwoon : Hugs and a trip to the puppy cafe?

Haneul : You are an evil Hamster and I hope you die.

Haneul : Actually don’t die

Taekwoon : Because you love me?

Haneul : Because you owe me money

Taekwoon : -_- I said I’d pay you back! And also, I’ll pay for the cafe meal this time. So, tell me.

He paused as he heard Jaehwan squawking outside “what?! The dude said he found her hot? That’s really forward!”

“Hush Jaehwan!” he heard Haneul shush him “If I wanted the entire office to know then I would have screamed it too!”

Taekwoon sighed when he saw an email from Minah in his inbox waiting to be read. She was breaking up the instructions into bits and sending them over. Office gossip could wait for later, including this mysterious fellow Minah was going on a date with. Outside, Jaehwan and Haneul were on a different mission. At least Haneul was.

“What are you doing now though?” Jaehwan asked as he peered into Haneul’s phone screen.

“Sabotaging Chanyeol’s date.” she smirked.

“You are an evil woman.” Jaehwan said as he gaped at the message Haneul had just sent.

“You find it hot.” Haneul shot back as Jaehwan leaned closer and whispered.

“Why yes I do.” he leaned away before whistling. “You told him that there was no point in the date because Taekwoon was interested? Bold move.” Haneul wanted to stomp the ground like a petulant child. Who the hell asked this man to exist! And who was seducing who? She was distracted when Chanyeol’s response came back in rapid succession.

Chanyeol :What ?!

Chanyeol : Taekwoon the senior?

Chanyeol : Like athletic Taekwoon?

Chanyeol : Swimming champ Taekwoon?

Chanyeol : Football team captain Taekwoon?

Chanyeol : Big scary boxing Taekwoon?!

Chanyeol : I’m out. Sorry hot friend. But I’m out.

Jaehwan chuckled as the read the responses before nudging Haneul “Minah incoming. News does travel fast. I will see you later?” he said, winking, before heading towards his cubicle. Presumably to work on some cool new creation. Haneul glared at him before turning to Minah who had just turned up looking puzzled.

“Apparently Chanyeol who thought I was hot does not want to go out on a date with me.”

Haneul rearranged her expression into one of similar confusion as she met Minah’s disappointed eyes “why is that?”

“I don’t know, Dambi just shot me a quick text. But he cancelled and I have a reservation. Do you want to go out to eat?”

Haneul looked thoughtful “I have work. Why don’t you take Taekwoon out for dinner? To thank him for the puppy cafe.”

"I thought you didn't have work." Minah frowned, confused even further as Haneul huffed at how oblivious her friend was being.

"Yes, well I do now."

That’s when Taekwoon’s door flew open as the two standing outside turned to look at him as he shrugged and pointed in the direction of the pantry"I'm hungry, I’m heading to the pantry."

"Good Taekwoon, Minah has a reservation and her date bailed, so go eat." Haneul declared as Minah and Taekwoon looked at her startled.

"I'll just take Dambi or something." Minah said awkwardly "So I can talk to her about this Chanyeol who thinks I'm hot but bails on dates."

"Chanyeol? Who thinks you're hot?" Taekwoon blinked as he turned to Minah.

"Long story Jung Taekwoon.” Haneul dismissed it as the cogs in Taekwoon’s brain slowly shifted and clicked.

"Isn’t Chanyeol that idiot from college?"

"Yeah." Haneul replied, chuckling at Minah’s look at Taekwoon, she appeared to be surprised at how he thought Chanyeol was an idiot.

"Why does he know Minah or think she's hot?" Taekwoon blinked.

"Her sister in law wanted to set them up on a blind date." Haneul explained, getting tired of this and hoping that she could just push the two out of the office on a date of their own.

"Ah, well, I'm glad it didn't work out." Taekwoon shrugged as he sighed.

“You sound like an ass right now." Minah piped up, a little disappointed with the fact that her date had cancelled on her.

"Chanyeol is an idiot." Haneul patted her shoulder.

"Fine then, if he's such an idiot, you find me a smarter date." Minah snapped as Haneul grinned in response before waving to Taekwoon.

"I volunteer Taekwoon!"

There was silence as the two looked at Haneul and sighed.

“I’m going home and eating ramyun.”

“I’m going to go and see if there is something to eat in the pantry.”

“Why don’t you walk her home and have ramyun together?!” Haneul cried as the two walked away from her.

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