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lovecanbesostrange · 3 years

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Okay, for the poor people on the Ruby Lucas Harem Discord suffering because of this ask (x) on konako’s tumblr that lead to things (including this fanart x), I have this wild scene out of context.

Mary Margaret was sitting at her desk, updating her chemistry flashcards. Ruby was sitting on her bed cross-legged staring at her laptop screen, waiting for this English essay to write itself.

“Ugh,” Ruby groaned and let herself fall backwards. Out of habit she put her hands to her face, but winced when her fingers touched the band aid over her eyebrow. It’s been five days.

A knock on the door made them both turn. They usually could tell who it was by the exact sound of the knock. Like Charming had one hard knock followed by two quick ones or Mulan knocked four times in a specific rhythm. So whoever this was, was more than unexpected. Ruby drew in a sharp breath. She had heard back from the police yesterday that there would be no criminal charges, but they both knew something else would arise from this.

Mary Margaret looked at her, then turned her chair to fully face the door and Ruby got back up again. “Come in.”

“Hallo. Good, you’re here.”

“Mom!” Mary Margaret was up in a second and gave her mother a hug. “I didn’t know you’d be coming.”

Eva hugged her back, but despite the smile on her face, her voice already made them realize this was not a fun surprise visit. “I didn’t know I would be here today either.” The hug ended and she stepped into the room, her gaze landing on Ruby. “I got some news last night and suddenly I was in my car this morning.”

Mary Margaret glanced at the clock. It was a twelve hours drive with good traffic, so Eva must’ve gotten behind the wheel around 4am.

“Hi…” Ruby busied herself closing her laptop and didn’t look up.

“Honey,” Eva stroked Mary Margaret’s hair, “would you mind giving us the room? I want to talk to Ruby.”

“Sure.” Mary Margaret glanced between the two and then grabbed her things from the desk. “I’m down the hall in the common area.” When she passed Eva she whispered: “Don’t be too harsh on her, please.”

That made Eva smile. Her daughter knew exactly why she was here, but she looked out for her friend. These girls always had each other’s back and knowing they were loyal like that, dragging each other out of trouble, was certainly a good thing.

Eva took the vacant chair and rolled herself over a bit towards Ruby’s bed. “So.”

Ruby slowly looked up. Eva took in the bandaid and she could see a faint red line indicating that her lip must have been busted. Trying to hide one hand with the other was a giveaway that her knuckles were bruised as well. Eva had to breathe slowly. A part of her wanted to grab Ruby by the shoulders and shake the whole story out of her. She wanted to yell about irresponsibilties, the futility of violence and all the consequences physical assault could come with. The bigger part of her wanted to cradle her like the 9 year old she sometimes still saw, who confessed to lying about her home address, as if not having loving parents was her personal failing.

“I was at dinner with friends last night and suddenly got asked if I heard about the ruckus on campus. I was really surprised when I was shown this tiny article about a football player beating up another student. And it took me two phone calls to find out it was you.”

“I’m sorry,” Ruby murmured towards the blanket she was sitting on, playing with the seam of her sweatpants.

“For what?” Eva tried to keep her voice as neutral as possible. She had felt every emotion during the long drive and had played out many versions of this conversation. But sitting in this room she realized none of those would work.

Ruby furrowed her brows and finally looked up. “Beating up that guy, of course?” It was a bit more of a question than a statement. The question had rattled her. There was so much to be sorry for though. The beating, losing her temper at all, making Regina worry that night already, not doing so great in classes lately, clinging to Snow, making her team suffer… oh, wait. “Also for not calling… I guess…”

The board said that her mother, Anita, would be notified of this by mail. That was her home address, her contact, but maybe this was why Eva was here. The Blanchards had always cared, but now she was in college, she wasn’t a kid anymore, she had to do these things by herself. But maybe, just maybe they should have called. “I shouldn’t have put this on Snow alone… she should’ve talked to you…”

“Ruby, no.” Eva got up and sat down on the bed, gesturing Ruby to scoot over next to her. “Sure, I’m disappointed-”

The word stung and Ruby interjected immediately. “I’m sorry. I messed up, but I promise Snow wasn’t even there and I won’t-”

“Stop!” Eva took Ruby’s hands, now seeing the bruises already turning yellow, showing the passage of time already. “I am disappointed you didn’t call. And I’m glad to hear Mary wasn’t involved, but I wanted to know anyway. Because of you. I care about you. And this is serious. I know…” She paused and slowed down, knowing the next thing would hurt, but after all these years, Eva needed to say it out loud. “I know your mom doesn’t take good care of you, I know you feel like she doesn’t care at all and I honestly don’t know if she does. But I do. I am not your mother, but I care.”

The dam broke and Ruby started to cry. Eva took her into her arms and immediately Ruby clung to her. It was weird that Eva had seen the aftermath of Ruby crying quite a few times over the years, but rarely had she shed tears in front of her. Maybe Eva should have made her before, pushed her a little bit towards that to hammer it home that she cared and that she would be there for her. Just the same she had hugged Mary Margaret after break-ups, over bruised knees, bad grades, and other bad news.

“I’m sorry for everything”, Ruby got out between sobs. Her tears stained Eva’s blouse already. “I didn’t mean to… I don’t want to hurt people… I swear I want to be good.”

There was more, but it was hard to decipher it all and Eva let her cry, rubbing circles on her back. Getting the full story would take time, that was for sure. All she could do now was to reassure Ruby. “I know you’re good, you just made a mistake. People make mistakes.”

Eva looked over Ruby’s shoulder and saw her pinboard. A few pictures were on it and she immediately recognized one taken the time she and Leopold had taken the girls to Six Flags. They had ridden all the rollercoasters until they were practically green in the face. It had also been the day she had seen Ruby at her most carefree. There was one photo of Ruby with her Grandmother, a woman Eva had met only once. Anita was nowhere to be found on the wall.

A group shot looked nice. Eva recognized David from the pictures Mary Margaret had sent her, but couldn’t even guess who the others were. It was a bit sad living too far away to meet all these people, because she had made it a point to know Mary Margaret’s friends in school by face and name. Mulan, Belle, August, Robin, Jasmin, Anna, Aurora… so many names. She smiled at the picture in the corner that showed Ruby in her team uniform, helmet in hand. A candid shot, her elbow resting on the shoulder of another girl. Or maybe it was young woman now.

Eva turned a bit to catch a glimpse of Mary Margaret’s pinboard. Cluttered with far more pictures, flyers and notes. They shared a room, they had shared the most parts of their lives for the past 11 years and yet there still was such a noticeable difference.

Ruby started to calm down and when she let go, Eva leaned forward to get tissues out of her bag. “Can you tell me your version of the story now? All I know is that you were provoked and sent a boy to the hospital. The article said something about questionable self-defense.”

“There are no criminal charges,” Ruby said after blowing her nose. “He said something to my friend. Insulted her. And he wouldn’t stop, calling her… the c-word… and when he touched me, I lost it.”

“He was in the hospital,” she prompted.

“For a broken arm.” A pause. “A broken nose.” Ruby looked at Eva again. “He lost a tooth. And has some more bruises than I do. He was on the ground fast…”

Eva put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “I have no problem believing you would defend any of your friends like that. But you must have hit him pretty hard.” Ruby nodded, the shame was visible. “Tell me the truth. Has this happened before? Because what I can’t believe is that you would pound someone when he’s already down. Something else is going on and I want to know if that will happen again.”

Ruby pressed her palms against the mattress and slid away a bit. Eva could hear - and even see - her breathing pick up. This was almost all the confirmation she needed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Has it happened before, yes or no?”

“Yes.”

Silence fell.

Eva closed her eyes. This was the thing she had feared. Because either Ruby had lost it very big time and the paper didn’t cover the big scoop behind it. Or something had been going on and she had been blind to it. And she needed to hear this from Ruby herself either way.

“When?”

“Back in high school… it was… at junior prom…”

Eva scrambled her brain. She remembered Mary Margaret having a date and giving her one more motherly talk about safe sex that had left her daughter bright red in the face. She also remembered that date bringing her home even before curfew and that Mary Margaret had been not very talkative that night. She had sworn nothing bad had happened with him and Eva only suspected that they’d had a stupid teen argument. There was nothing too remarkable about that. Had she seen Ruby the next day? She couldn’t recall.

While she was thinking, Ruby went on hesitantly. “This boy Peter had asked me out… from the hockey team… but it… it was all a prank… some of those guys wanted to like… set me up for a joke… and... “ She quickly glanced up and right back down again. “It wasn’t as bad, he had bruises and a swollen eye. Snow was there to stop me and we all agreed to not tell anyone. I apologized to him though. And it all… it was… like now… just more… it wasn’t just Whale being a dick to my friend, it’s… everything is so much sometimes and I explode.”

This was less surprising to hear than Eva cared to admit. “Have you ever hurt somebody with intention?”

Ruby shook her head. Her voice was broken. “One time… but only one time… I shoved Snow… I swear it was only once… I yelled at her and shoved her and the second I had done that… I apologized immediately and I never ever intended to hurt anybody.” She looked at Eva again. “Least of all her. I swear.” For this she held eye contact as long as she could.

Eva reached out touching her hand that was clenched around the edge of the mattress. “Thank you for being honest.”

There were a lot of details Eva wanted to know about, but this had been hard enough on Ruby. And now they had time to figure things out. But she had revealed a bright spot. “No criminal charges, you said?”

Ruby nodded. “The police seem very uninterested. And any civil things… well, I need to worry about what the board decides. My… friend said her family will keep things on the down-low.” She squirmed a bit.

“Who is this friend?”

“Regina Mills.”

“Mills? Oh.” Of all the people to get in a fight for, this was probably the luckiest choice. Although it didn’t sit right with Eva that there might be things going to circumvent what law dictated. But she also knew that worse people got away with far worse behavior and Ruby deserved to have one strike with minimal consequences. Even if this was technically her second. “I have looked up a few therapists in town already. I nee-”

“I’m seeing the campus therapist already. But I blew off a few appointments and I get that I shouldn’t.” Eva looked over at Mary Margaret’s bed at that. “Yes, Snow made me. She went with me the first time even.”

“What else are you girls keeping from me?” That came out more judgmental than she meant to. “I know you’re growing up, but you’re still kids to me. I always thought you knew you can come to me with problems.”

“Sorry.”

Eva scooted closer again and put her arm around Ruby’s shoulder. “Enough with the apologies. I know you’re a good kid. I remember you kept Mary from starting to smoke, so that’s something.”

“You know about that?” Ruby looked at her bewildered.

“I am a mom after all and some things I do pick up. You didn’t like it, because you’re an athlete, right?”

“Yeah, it’s super shitty for your lungs and I told her it was uncool.”

Eva laughed. “Wish that would work on Leo and his cigars. But thanks for that. I know you two look out for each other. But I will have to chew out my daughter for keeping a few too many secrets.” Ruby tensed up a bit. “What? Something else I need to know?”

“No…” She dragged the syllable out, dragging her toes over the floor.

“Ruby, I just said you can tell me. That is all I want from you, the truth. And we can work anything out from there.”

“But… what if…” She crossed her arms in front of chest, bracing herself. “What if… I’m not who you think I am?”

“You’re Ruby Lucas. You’re the best friend of my daughter, almost more like a sister. You worked your butt off to get here and you work hard to be the best version of you. I know you even send some of that money home you make at the gas station. Because you care so much about people you love, like your grandmother. I know you are a good person, even though you keep way too much inside. But we can work on that now.” She gave Ruby a kiss on the head, like she would with Mary Margaret. “What could be so bad about you?”

“I’m… I think… I’m gay.” Ruby breathed out that last word and was one tense muscle in Eva’s half embrace.

Eva looked at the pinboard again. The picture with Ruby smiling while leaning on the other girl. It clicked. On top of everything else, this secret had weighed Ruby down. She sure had enough reasons to be angry at the world already. This wasn’t something Eva had prepared for, so she just brought around her other arm to pull Ruby closer. “I want you to be happy and in love.” Finally she felt Ruby breathe in again.

((I just have to stop myself here. This could go on and on and on and on otherwise. Because I already know Eva is gonna take them out to dinner, insisting on meeting David. She gets a hotel room nearby. Of course Snow offers to let her sleep in the dorm but “Honey, that’s kind, but no. So much no to sleeping in a dorm bed.” And she freshens up a bit and passes a book store, where her eye is caught by a pride display and she gets a bracelet with a tiny rainbow flag, two actually, she wears one and gives the other to Ruby, because well, she doesn’t know exactly what to say, but this will definitely not make her think less of her!! Eva is the silent MVP of the story.))

#gender mix football AU #(where nobody gives a fuck about football)#Ruby Lucas #(sorry for spamming the tag - come to the server to yell at me about it)#this fic would be 100k words at this point already - sorry I don't have actual writing stamina for that #konako #somehow it's her fault - and the demons circling her inbox #lazylaziel #if only you knew what you started... even though it's so far removed by now... sorry #$!#RRCAU

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fictionalcharactermbti · 4 years

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Hi! There's a character I'm trying to type but I keep going back and forth between ENTJ and ESTJ. For instance, I'm having trouble telling the difference between, say, manifestations of Tert-Ne and Tert-Se, or between Ne and Aux-Ni; there are also certain traits that I keep assuming are specifically Te-Si, but may just be Te in general? So, what are some key ways to differentiate between ENTJ and ESTJ cognition? Sorry if this is too broad a question, or if I'm being obnoxious-

This is a good question. I know some people may disagree with me, but I feel people can have trouble typing because they get so bogged down in the functional stack breakdown rather than seeing the type as a whole. Below I write of some distinctions and go on some mini-rants. I hope this helps.

The fastest way to tell the difference between an ESTJ and ENTJ is in how they lead. ESTJs prefer to represent a group and be more of a guardian of that group. An ENTJ doesn’t want to represent a group or system like the ESTJ, the ENTJ wants to improve it and often believes they are the right person for the job.

This doesn’t mean an ESTJ can’t change or an ENTJ can’t be stubborn. But we must look at the most common behavior they exhibit as well as how these behaviors manifest.

Take Azula and Sokka from “Avatar: The Last Airbender.” Both are ENTJs. Both constantly work on improving things but are very stubborn and won’t change their minds of the person arguing with them isn’t coming from their exact same perspective. Though they are open to new ways of doing things because of Ni, their Te still makes them rigid. Also they can get stuck in their personal Ni being the only true way of seeing something.

An ESTJ though typically for preservation can also be a catalyst for change. Take Hermione Granger from “Harry Potter.” She starts SPEW for the movement of freeing House Elves. Stereotypes dictate that she couldn’t possibly be for social change. Isn’t that Fe to care about someone and to show emotion? The audacity of a Thinking type having, dare I say it, feelings and...an EMOTIONAL REACTION! (Thanks for listening to my rant).

What makes our types the way they are is about a person’s approach to something. We can all be the mentor, we can all be philosophers, architects, poets, etc. How we approach tasks is where our personality types come into play. How Hermione approaches her social movement is what shows her quintessential ESTJ-ness. She takes the role of representative and enjoys all the detailed work of paper work and getting the movement off the ground. It isn’t impassioned speeches but button making and creating rules that gets her passion for the movement going.

This also brings me to another key difference of an ENTJ and an ESTJ. An ENTJ is more likely to have an easier time delegating tasks than an ESTJ. Again, this isn’t to say that they can never break this observation, but there is a pattern. ESTJs love detailed work, they do! Look at Monica from FRIENDS. She can easily leads but has a tendency to micromanage and take over every tasks. She rarely trusts others to do as good of a job as she does. That is the Si kicking in. Si is so comfortable with the details works that a leader is usually demanded to delegate. It can be hard for an ESTJ to learn to let that go.

An ENTJ is often more comfortable with delegating tasks when needed. Their Ni leads them to looking at the bigger picture of the system they are taking on a leadership role for. They will often be able to navigate who they want in what role to help the machine run best. Sometimes a character can take this too far as people often don’t act as we would expect them to.

Take Peytr Baelish from “Game of Thrones,” an ENTJ, (who I have been told is obviously an INTJ, everyone knows that. Hear that? EVERYONE! Guess I missed the Petyr Baelish is an INTJ bill that got passed). He often delegates tasks and underestimates others. His intuition helps him to a point but he isn’t as observant as he tries make others think he is. It is why he completely misses that Sansa and Arya are playing him. It is why he really can never beat Cersei at her game. Another example is Regina Mills from “Once Upon a Time.” Blinded by her master plans she often misses details about people and underestimates them. This is often her undoing.

When trying to tell the differences in these types through their tertiary functions, it can be really hard. Tertiary functions in types that share dominant and inferior functions can look really similar and be hard to differentiate. It is why it should probably not be a starting off point when trying to type a character. Both ETJs use Se or Ne to enforce their Te when unhealthy and when healthy use these functions to let go and have fun.

Some tips once you get to this point:

-Ne deals in possibilities. For an ESTJ experiencing negative Ne, this means they are seeing only all the negative possibilities in the world around them. They feel pushed to react and change this externally. This leads to them worried that others simply can’t make decisions for themselves and they can become overbearing and make decisions for them. Again, Monica is a great example of this as she does this a lot with Rachel. This is most seen in the episode where Monica becomes all too ready to take Rachel up on her deal to make decisions for Rachel. When Ne is unhealthy in an ESTJ, it takes my micromanaging comment to the next level. Instead of just doing it themselves because they love the work, it becomes a distrust in the abilities of others.

-Se is more impulsive and experiential. This is something the ENTJ doesn’t identify in themselves. You can seem them try to repress this part of them when it comes out if they are unhealthy. They can see this as a frivolous side of themselves that they shouldn’t engage in. Regina is a great example of this as she struggles to live in the moment. Whenever she does and feels a bit of happiness from it, she shuts the scenario down. This is most evident when she is taken to the tavern by Tinkerbell to meet her true love, Robin. She doesn’t go in. This urge is too impulsive for her and a trivial thing to do.

#ENTJ #ESTJ #ENTJ vs ESTJ #typing #Ni #Si #Ne #Se #ask

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cluttermind · 4 years

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CS Father’s Day OS - “Of Love and Fathers”

Rating: G

Summary: A very fluffy Father’s Day one shot featuring Killian’s first Father’s Day!

Read on ao3 here

As usual, Killian woke at the crack of dawn and was at Hope’s side the second she stirred awake. Emma was sure he spent hours watching Hope sleep, hopelessly wrapped around her finger. If it was up to Killian, he wouldn’t spend a second apart from his baby girl. He could watch her curious blue eyes take in the world around her for the rest of his life and never tire of it.

In her nightstand, Emma has Killian’s first Father’s Day card right under the gift-wrapped box containing her gift to him. She and Mary Margret had a few - okay a lot - of laughs while attempting to shop for both Killian and her dad. The thought of buying Captain Hook, the pirate captain from the enchanted forest who spent much of his life in Neverland, a set of power tools nearly killed them. Really, purchasing them for him might have resulted in Killian killing himself. David, on the other hand, had taken up a few too many DIY projects around the farm. And as cliche as it is, Emma thought she’d get him some kinda power tool set thing. Honestly, she got him exactly what he had asked for because really what did Emma and Mary Margret know about power tools other than that David used them and that sometimes (read: often) they were loud. All this to say that Killian’s gift took a much longer time to figure out. Emma’s lucky it was ready in time for today.

Once soft sounds of a fussy baby start seeping through the baby monitor, Emma hears Killian’s gentle coos. “Good morning my little love.”

Emma giggles right along with Hope. Hearing the fearsome pirate captain coo to a baby in the sweetest voice imaginable still made her laugh a little. Slipping out of bed, she grabs her robe from the closet and makes her way to her husband and their daughter. Killian is leaning over the crib, tickling Hope’s belly telling her over and over again how pretty she is while she laughs at the ridiculous faces he’s making.

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Nearly a year ago Emma was feeling particularly miserable to the point that Killian, at times, wanted to stab himself with his own hook just to stop her from screaming at him for just about everything. If she wasn’t testing his patience, she was throwing up or crying which hurt him in an entirely different way.

After a particularly grueling morning, Emma took the day off from work. In the quiet solitude of an empty house, her mind was clear enough to recognize what might be going on which, of course, led to more crying. Because they hadn’t talked about this. Because she wasn’t sure they were ready. Because she wanted this so desperately. Because part of her knew that in their conversations about the future, the unspoken meaning of “we” was “us and our children.”

So she took a test. And it was positive. And it took every fiber of being to not run down to the station and shower Killian in a million and more kisses.

When Killian got home that night, Emma was waiting for him in the living room with a pale yellow gift bag which might have confused him if he wasn’t so happy to see her smiling at him.

“Are you feeling better, love?”

“Much better,” Emma said, handing him the bag. “I have a surprise for you.”

Killian kissed her cheek as he took the bag from her. He pulled out a small white onesie with a blue anchor on it and read the text out loud. “Daddy’s little sailor?” He asked. Then it hit him and his eyes met hers. “Swan are you pregnant?” Killian asked softly, his voice barely a whisper as tears pooled in his eyes.

Emma nodded. “We’re having a baby.”

Killian swept her up in his arms, careful not to hurt her with his hook, and spun her around. When her feet touched the floor again he kissed her. She could taste his tears against his lips. His hand was still clutching the small item of clothing. “We’re having a baby,” Killian repeated. “I’m going to be a Papa.”

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“A shilling for your thoughts, love?” Killian’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts. He was cradling Hope, who was clutching Killian’s hook with her tiny hands, in his arms.

“I was just thinking about how wonderful you are with her.”

Killian grins, dipping his head to press his lips against Hope’s temple. “I never thought it was possible to love someone this much.” Hope’s wide eyes watch the way the morning sunshine dances on the shiny silver of Killian’s hook that now dons a rubber pink protector to keep Hope from hurting herself on the end of it.

Emma wraps her arms around his waist from behind, resting her cheek against the back of his shoulder. “Happy Father’s Day, Killian.”

Killian is genuinely confused. “Happy what?”

“Father’s Day.”

“Are you making up holidays now, Swan?”

Emma released him from her arms and moved to step in front of him to figure out if he’s joking with her or not. He’s not. “Have you never heard of Father’s Day?”

“No.” Killian sighs. “I never had a father worth celebrating.”

Emma tries to remember celebrating in years past but the first few Father’s Days here she spent alone with Mary Margret and David and when Killian came into her life he’d cover for them at the station so they can spend the day together. This time, a new deputy was covering so that Killian could enjoy the day as well.

“Well,” Emma starts, “remember when we celebrated Mother’s Day? This day is yours, babe. You’re a wonderful father and we love you so much.” Emma turns to Hope, tickling her belly. “Isn’t that right Hope? We love Daddy very much.” Hope giggles in response, causing Killian to smile.

“Daddy loves you too my little starfish.”

Emma kisses him softly. “We’re heading to my parents for a barbecue around 3 but the whole morning is yours. We can do whatever you want.”

Killian raises an eyebrow at her. “Whatever I want?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Aye, Captain.”

He looks at Hope. “Want to spend the morning on the Jolly, little starfish?”

They spend the morning on the Jolly, enjoying some brunch and the sea breeze while the ship remained docked. They walk Hope around the whole ship as Killian talks incessantly about the ship and his adventures and Emma listens, enraptured as always by the way Killian tells a story (even ones she’s heard multiple times). He’s a real-life storybook character albeit with a more indecent past with the women he’s seduced and the people he’s killed and stolen from. She finds it amusing how he skips over those parts when he’s talking to Hope.

Truthfully, Killian’s biggest fear is still what Hope will think of him when she finds out. It’s impossible to hide his past when it’s written in Henry’s storybook. As many times as Emma reassures him that Hope will love him not matter what because he’s her daddy and she’s his starfish and he is absolutely brilliant with her, Emma knows this fear will be something he lives with for a long time.

Time flies as Killian recounts his adventures and soon it’s time to head over to see her parents. Henry, Robin, Regina and Roland beat them there and Henry and Roland are already sparring with David by the time they park the car. Mary Margret fawns over Hope, complaining that she doesn’t get to spend enough time with her beautiful grandbaby and Killian nearly frowns when she’s no longer in his arms. Robin greets Killian with a clap on the back

“I think it’s time for presents!” Mary Margret squeals after they have dinner on the back deck. Henry leaves with her to grab everything. Somehow the two of them manage to carry everything to the table and both David and Killian blush furiously.

“Mine first!” Henry says, handing David a large wrapped box. Inside was a new saddle blanket for David’s horse in Northeastern University red and white. After a bear hug from his grandfather, Henry handed Hook a red gift bag. “Happy Father’s Day, Hook.”

It took Killian a second to process what was happening. He would’ve cried if he didn’t have a reputation to maintain. “Thank you, mate.” Inside was a dark grey t-shirt with white and gold lettering that read “Northeastern Dad.” Pulling the shirt out of the bag and reading what it said, pushed Killian over the edge, a single tear slipping from the corner of his eye. He quickly stood and pulled Henry into a tight embrace. “Thank you.”

“Mom got a Northeastern Mom one when we were moving in. I thought it was time you had a matching one. Now you can both look equally embarrassing when you’re moving me in in August.”

Killian chuckled. “Don’t give her any -”

“That’s a BRILLIANT idea!” Emma squealed.

“Ideas.” Killian sighed as he finished his sentence, still smiling brightly at the family he now had, the family he had always wanted but never believed he deserved.

“Okay okay. It’s my turn.” Emma said. David opened the set of power tool things and proceeded to explain what he would use each tool and feature for. Finally, it was time for Emma to give Killian his gift. It was a small wrapped box, only slightly larger than the size of Killian’s hand. In the box is a pocket sundial. Since Killian refuses to wear a watch, Emma thought this would suit him more. It’s solid brass and with his name engraved on the outside and a photo of him and Hope from the first time they took her to the Jolly on the inside. “Happy Father’s Day, babe.” Killian looked up from the sundial to see Emma holding their daughter. His heart was suddenly filled with more love than he ever believed was possible for one man to feel.

Robin rested his hand on Killian’s shoulder. “Happy Father’s Day, mate. Isn’t it the best feeling in the world?”

Killian grinned at his friend. “Aye. Happy Father’s Day.”

Roland gave Robin a handmade card, which was quite possibly the most adorable thing in the world, and a new set of arrows that were hand painted fun colors (which were clearly a joint effort between Regina and Roland).

Mary Margret, as a joke, had t-shirts that said “Hot Dads of Storybrooke Crew” on them made for David, Robin, and Killian which elicited howls of laughter from all three of them when they opened them at the same time. Their last names were on the back, like a jersey, and their numbers reflected the order in which they became fathers - Nolan 01, Locksley 02, Jones 03. The rest of them roll their eyes at the men’s now even more inflated egos. Seconds after opening them, the “Hot Dads of Storybrooke Crew” plans to wear them together at Roland’s next soccer match. Town summer soccer matches turn into mini festivals with all different food being sold for fundraisers, music and dancing for the kids, and adult beverages for the parents.

Hope was fast asleep on the drive home and Emma was barely awake herself while Killian drove. He put Hope to sleep while Emma showered and got ready for bed. She read a bit of a book Killian had recommended to her while he did the same afterwards before climbing into bed.

“Emma?” Killian asks, rolling on his side to face her.

She knows by the look in his eyes that this is moving in a more serious direction. Killian clearly has something on his mind. Emma sets the book down and turns on her side to face him “What’s on your mind, Jones?”

Killian's hand rests on her hip. “I uhm -”

Not often does Killian get flustered, but now he was blushing furiously. “Talk to me, babe.” Emma cups his cheek, her thumb stroking soothingly.

“Have you thought about having another baby?” Killian whispers.

“Maybe.” Emma grins. “Have you?”

“Aye.” Killian returns her smile.

“And do you want another baby?”

Killian kisses her softly. “Aye, love.”

“Me too.” Emma rests her forehead against Killian’s. “Watching you with Hope has been the most incredible thing in the world, Killian. I love you with all my heart.”

“I love you, too. Always. To the end of the earth and time.”

#cs ff #cs fanfic #CS fic #Captain swan #killian jones #captain hook #emma swan #baby hope #of love and fathers

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swanqueeneverafter · 4 years

Text

Sins of the Past Pt.5

Camelot. Past. Night. (An agitated Uther dines with Morgana.) Uther: “You seem troubled, Morgana. Is something wrong?” Morgana: “No, father. I’m sorry I’m not better company.” Uther: “I’m merely concerned for your welfare, that’s all.” Morgana: “Thank you, My Lord. All is well.” (Arthur enters.) Uther: “What news of the hunt for the Druid boy?” Arthur: “We have conducted an extensive search. The boy is nowhere to be found.” Uther: “You mean you failed to find him?” Arthur: “Perhaps he’s already left the city.” Uther: “You’re telling me that a wounded boy is able to evade the guards and escape the city? Nonsense, someone’s hiding him. I want him found.” Arthur: “He’s just a boy. What harm can he do?” Uther: “He is a Druid, and that makes him dangerous.” Morgana: “The Druids would see my father’s kingdom destroyed.” Uther: “Morgana is right. Double your efforts.” Arthur: “Yes, My Lord.” Uther: “Keep searching until you find him.” Morgana's Chambers. (With Mordred looking on, Morgana stands wearing Guinevere's clothes.) Morgana: (Sighs:) "It’ll have to do. (Turns to Mordred:) We’re going to get you out of Camelot. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I promise. (Guinevere enters the room:) Did you get the keys?" Guinevere: "Yes. (Holds them up:) The door is behind the shield at the far end of the armoury. I'll prepare you some food and water for the journey." Morgana: "Thank you. I feel I’ve put you in danger without ever stopping to ask how you feel about it. I’m sorry." Guinevere: "I know how it feels to face the threat of execution. And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Just be careful."

Storybrooke. Present. The Dragon's Lair. (Henry stops by the former 'Roni's'.) Henry: (Leaning against the bar:) "Wow, I've never seen this place so busy." Robin: (Proudly:) "Yep, ever since we changed to a bar and restaurant - complete with theme nights - profits have been through the roof." Henry: "Maleficent must be thrilled." Robin: "Well you'd think so, but when Remy asked her to change the name to 'Le repaire du Dragon', the look she gave him..." Henry: "She's not a big fan of change, huh?" Robin: "No, but she can't argue with the results. I mean, no one was coming to this place when it was some sort of kinky sex dungeon anyway. Except your parents of course. (Henry winces:) Sorry." Henry: "Yeah. Can I get a refill please, I've got to get back out there." Robin: "Sure thing. (Takes Henry's coffee mug:) So, how was game night?" Henry: "Oh I told them I had to work. It just wouldn't have been the same without Ella there anyway." Robin: "Tell me about it. Between Emma and Regina, Snow and David and Robin Hood and my mom, I was kinda glad Mal wouldn't let me take the night off. I mean all that mushy love stuff can get a little..." Henry: "I know what you mean. (Taking his coffee:) Thanks, I'll see you later." Robin: "Cya." Dragon's Lair. Recent Past. 50's Night. (The bar has been turned into a retro 50's diner for the evening with the jukebox playing and people dancing. Sitting at the bar, Regina and Emma, dressed as 'Sandy and Danny' are in deep discussion.) Emma: "I don't know what to tell ya, we flipped a coin and I won." Regina: "But you're a natural blonde! It just makes more sense for you to be Sandy. Roni had just the right leather jacket for this." Emma: "Seriously, you want to talk to me about leather jackets? Besides, (Playing with 'Sandy's' scarf:) I kinda like you as a blonde." Regina: "Oh you do, do you?" Maleficent: (Standing behind the bar:) "Oh please." Emma: "Hey, can we get some shots?" Regina: "Shots? Are you trying to get me drunk?" Emma: "Haven't you seen the movie? It's my job to turn the good girl, bad." Maleficent: "Ugh. I'll be in my office." (Maleficent turns and walks down the hall and out of sight.) Emma: (Calling after her:) "What about our shots?" Regina: "Shh, I'll get them. (Regina stands and walks around the bar, picking up some glasses:) I did used to own the place after all."

Emma: "What's up with Maleficent?" Regina: "Oh don't worry about her, it's probably a full moon." Emma: "That's Werewolves, not Dragons." Regina: (Pouring the shots:) "Look who knows so much all of a sudden. (They clink glasses and knock the shots back. With a grimace:) So, in this movie Sandy meets up with this Danny person and he's a bad influence?" Emma: "Well yeah, sorta. I mean how bad can anyone who bursts into song every five minutes really be?" Regina: "Oh, well there goes that idea." Emma: "What idea?" Regina: "I was just thinking we could watch it sometime, but you know how I feel about musicals." Emma: (Watching Regina pour another shot:) "You know we could go home, put it on and then not watch it together." Regina: "What would be the point in- (Sees the look on Emma's face:) Ah, I understand. (Picks up her shot:) Well then take me home, Big Bird." Emma: "I think you mean T-Bird. (They down their shots. Slamming the glass down on the bar:) Let's go, Sandra Dee." Camelot. Past. Morgana’s Chambers. (Morgana prepares to take the boy to safety when she sees the look on Guinevere’s face.) Morgana: “What is it? What’s wrong?” Guinevere: “You’re risking so much for this boy. Let me take him out of the castle.” Morgana: “No. It’s too dangerous. I’ll do it. If you are caught, Uther will execute you. The boy’s my responsibility.” Guinevere: “You don’t know anything about him.” Morgana: “There’s a bond between us.” Guinevere: "Stronger than the bond you have with Uther?" Morgana: “It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Perhaps I was always meant to help him.” Guinevere: "How can that be?” Morgana: “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. (Guinevere sighs and shakes her head:) I must go." Guinevere: “Good luck.” (Guards march through the castle as Morgana peeks over the edge of the curved stairs and descends with Mordred. A serving girl sees them sneaking off through the corridor at the bottom of the spiral stairway. They sneak out through the door behind the shield in the armoury. Arthur enters the armoury with a guard.) Guard: “A servant saw someone entering. They had a boy with them.” (Arthur sees the revealed door and checks his key ring, but the key is missing.) Arthur: “Sound the warning bell.” Guinevere’s House. Night. (Guinevere looks out the window while the warning bells sound. Morgana and Mordred enter.) Guinevere: “There’s enough food for three days. Your horse is fed and watered. I’ll take you to it.” Morgana: “No. There’s no point in all of us risking our lives.” Guinevere: “What about you?” Morgana: “I’m the King’s daughter. I’ll take my chances.” Guinevere: “Morgana!” Morgana: “I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. We must go.” Lower Town. (Morgana and Mordred try to run, but Arthur and the guards approach through their exit. Morgana and Mordred hide in a nearby building. Arthur enters.) Arthur: “Fan out. (Morgana and Mordred make a break for it, but they run across a guard and Arthur blocks the other side of the path. Arthur draws his sword and places it at Morgana’s back:) Halt, or I’ll run you through. Show yourself.” (Morgana turns around. Arthur is shocked.) Morgana: “Let him go. I beg you. He’s just a child.” (Arthur considers his options, looking at the guards around him.) Arthur: (To the guards:) “Restrain them.”

Wonderland. Present. (Ella and Will continue walking towards the Mad Hatter's house.) Ella: (Spotting it:) "Will. Over there! The Hatter's house. (Begins running:) Hurry!" Mad Hatter's House. (Ella opens the door and enters.) Ella: "Mother! (Dozens and dozens of hats are all that greet them:) I'm here!" Will: "Ella." Ella: "She must be here. It's too dark to tell, or maybe she's sleeping or something." Will: "Your Mother ain't here." Ella: "No, she must be here." Will: "Ella. (Ella starts looking through all the hats, desperately:) Ella. I'm sorry. But she's not. And as far as I can tell, she never was. If she were, wouldn't she have shown herself by now?" Ella: "But she was here, I can sense it." Will: (As Ella leaves the house:) "Ella." (Walking outside, Ella closes her eyes for a moment, dejected. Opening her eyes again, she feels something.) Ella: "Will, come quickly! (Will exits the house:) My necklace. The one my parents each kept a piece of, look!" Will: (Stares at the necklace:) "It's glowing." Ella: "It's a sign! We were meant to come here. My mother was here, I knew it!" Will: "But she's not anymore. You said it yourself, this was your best chance at finding a clue as to where she went and there's nothing here." Ella: (Smiling:) "This isn't the time to be stubborn, Will. Look!" (Ella holds up the still glowing necklace.) Will: (Gently pushes it away:) "I'm not being stubborn." Ella: "Yes, you are. If you want to leave, leave. But I'm staying." Will: "Because of a necklace?" Ella: "Because she's here." Will: "But you have no proof." Ella: "When you really love someone, you don't need proof. You can feel it. She's here. I'm gonna find her. Now the only question is, are you coming with me?" Will: "I was afraid you were going to ask me that." Ella: "Is that a 'yes'?" Will: (Smiles, despite himself:) "Bloody hell. Come on then." (Replacing the glowing necklace, Ella wipes away her tears as she and Will continue their search, together.) Kingdom of Valencia. Catrina's Guest Chambers. (Kneeling on the floor of her room with Jonas, Catrina enchants a necklace with her blood.) Catrina: "Ic nemne þá grædige, yfele, formolsnung. mé getryme. Nu meaht þú begalan. Nu meaht þú begalan. (To Jonas:) Dinner time." (She cackles.)

Gareth’s Chamber. (Gareth and Catrina have dinner together.) Catrina: “Isn’t this perfect? You and me together. A toast. A toast to us.” Gareth: “To us.” Catrina: “There’s something I want to give you. It belonged to my father, and his father before him.” Gareth: “Oh, My Lady, I couldn’t possibly…” Catrina: “No, no, no, I want you to have it. Perhaps when you look at it, it will remind you of me.” (She puts the enchanted necklace around Gareth’s neck.) Gareth: “I shall wear it always.” Catrina: “That is as well, for am I not beautiful, Gareth?” Gareth: “Oh, you are beautiful, My Lady.” Catrina: “Am I not your heart’s desire?” Gareth: “You are my heart’s desire.” Catrina: “Then seal it, Gareth. Seal it with a kiss.” Gareth: “Yes. A kiss.” (When they kiss, the enchantment is complete.) Camelot. Past. Council Chamber. (Morgana stands before Uther while Arthur watches on.) Uther: “All this time, you’ve been hiding the boy in my own palace. How could you betray me like this?” Morgana: “I would not see him executed. I did what I thought was right.” Uther: “You think it’s right to conspire with my enemies against me?” Morgana: “How can this child be your enemy? He’s just a boy.” Uther: “He is a Druid.” Morgana: “Is that such a crime?” Uther: “His kind would see me dead and this kingdom returned to anarchy and you would help them.” Morgana: “Then punish me… but spare the boy. I beg you.” Uther: (To Arthur:) “Make arrangements for the boy to be executed tomorrow morning.” Morgana: “No! Please. He’s done nothing.” Uther: “Let this be a lesson to you.” Morgana: “You don’t have to do this.” Uther: (To Arthur:) “Do you hear me? I want him executed at dawn.” Arthur: “Yes, My Lord.” Morgana: “What have these people done to you? Why are you so full of hate?” (Morgana marches towards Uther and grabs his arm. Uther grabs her throat and presses her against a chair back.) Uther: “Enough! I will not hear another word! Do not speak to me until you are ready to apologise for what you’ve done.” (Uther leaves, Arthur follows him.)

That Night. Morgana’s Chambers. (A thunderstorm rages. Morgana stirs restlessly in her sleep and magically lights a candle by her bed.) Guinevere: (Entering the room:) “I brought you some extra blankets, I thought you might be cold… (Guinevere sees the lighted candle and blows it out, taking it over to the window. Morgana eyes flicker and magically she lights candle in her sleep again. Guinevere gasps, waking Morgana who’s eyes glow golden which causes the flame to burn higher, burning her curtains:) Morgana! Morgana, stop!” (Morgana screams, shattering the glass from her windows.) Storybrooke. Swan-Mills House. Present. (Regina sits reading in the living room when she hears Emma call out to her.) Emma: "Regina?" Regina: "In here. Did Maria go down okay?" Emma: "Of course, I'm the law in this town, so what Mama wants, Mama gets." (Glancing up from her book, Regina looks to see Emma stood leaning against the door frame. Wearing only a white bathrobe and with her hair done in a familiar fashion, Emma enjoys the smile that crosses her wife's face.) Regina: "Ooh, Mama like." Emma: (Smiles, walks further into the room:) "I thought a little role-reversal was called for. (Twirls the bathrobe tie in her hand:) So can Roni come out and play?" Regina: (Slamming the book closed:) "I think that can be arranged." Emma: (Winks:) "Then follow me." (Regina promptly stands and follows her wife. When Emma doesn't head for the stairs however, Regina stops.) Regina: "Where are you going?" Emma: (Continues walking:) "Well it's not quite Greased Lightning, but I think your Mercedes will be cosy enough. (Emma reaches the door to the garage across the hall. Looks over her shoulder:) Coming?"

Regina: (Smirks:) "Do you want me to fetch my leather jacket?" Emma: "Oh no, I don't think that'll be necessary. After all... (Emma unties her robe and lets it drop to the floor at her feet:) You're already wearing far too much." (Without another word, Emma opens the door and enters the garage. Not needing to be asked twice, Regina kicks off her shoes and follows Emma into the garage, discarding her clothes as quickly as possible.) Camelot. Past. Morgana's Chambers. (Guinevere sits with Morgana, rocking her in her arms.) Morgana: "I’m scared, Guin. I don’t understand anything anymore." Guinevere: "You can trust me, Morgana. You know you can." Morgana: "It's magic, Guin." Guinevere: "Shh. You need your rest." Morgana: "You think it's magic too. (Pulling away to look at her:) Please, Guin, I just need to hear you say it." Guinevere: (Strokes Morgana's face:) "I understand. I realise how frightening all this must be for you. Especially for you." Morgana: "Why especially for me?" Guinevere: "You’re the King’s daughter. You know his hatred of magic better than anyone." Morgana: "So you do think it was magic?" Guinevere: “I’m not saying that.” Morgana: “But it could be, couldn’t it?” Guinevere: “I really wouldn’t know, but there are people who do.” Morgana: “Who?” Guinevere: “What about the Druids? They help people like you.” Morgana: “None of their kind would dare show their face in Camelot.” Guinevere: “No. But I know where you can find them. You must go tonight with Arthur when he takes the druid boy out of the castle.” Morgana: “Arthur? He’s the one who turned me in.” Guinevere: “Yes and he regrets it. Arthur doesn’t wish to see the boy executed any more than we do.” Morgana: “And you trust him?” Guinevere: “Yes, I do.” Morgana: “But how would I leave the castle? My father-” Guinevere: “We must use what happened here tonight to our advantage. For the boy’s sake, and yours.” Labyrinth of Gedref. Present. (While Merida continues to navigate the labyrinth, Mulan meets Anhora.) Mulan: "You said Merida would face a test. And here you are, preparing a trap for her." Anhora: "The trap isn’t for Merida. It is for you. Gehæftan." (As a result of Anhora's spell, Mulan is wrapped in vines from the labyrinth walls.) Labyrinth of Gedref. Exit. (Merida runs through the labyrinth and finds the exit leading to the sea. Mulan is sitting at a table on the shore, Anhora standing nearby.) Merida: “Mulan?” Mulan: “I’m sorry.” Merida: “Let her go. I’ll take your test, but not till she’s released.” Anhora: “That is not possible. Mulan is part of the test. Please sit. (Merida doesn’t move:) If you refuse the test, you will have failed and Dun Broch will be destroyed.” Merida: (Sighs, taking a seat opposite Mulan:) “I thought I told you to stay away. (To Anhora:) Let’s get on with it.” Anhora: “There are two goblets before you. One of the goblets contains a deadly poison, the other goblet, a harmless liquid. All the liquid from both goblets must be drunk, but each of you may only drink from a single goblet.” Merida: “What kind of ridiculous test is that? What does that prove?” Anhora: “What it proves is for you to decide. If you pass the test, the curse will be lifted.” Mulan: “Let’s think about this. What if I drink from my goblet first?” Merida “If it’s poisoned, you’ll die.” Mulan: “And if it’s not, then you’ll have to drink from yours, and you’ll die. There must be a way around it.” Merida: “Well obviously one of us has to die. We have to find a way to determine which goblet has the poison. And then I’ll drink it.” Mulan: “I will be the one to drink it.” Merida: “This is my responsibility. I’m drinking it.” Mulan: “It is more important that you live. You’re the Queen.” Merida: “You’re already a hero, Mulan. There’s no need for you to be a martyr.” Mulan: (Sigh:) “What if I drink from mine first, and if that’s not poisoned, I will then drink yours?” Merida: “He said each of us is only allowed to drink from a single goblet. I had no idea you were so keen to die for me.” Mulan: “Trust me, I can hardly believe it myself.” Merida: (Snort:) “I’m glad you are here, Mulan.” Mulan: “I’ve got it. Right, we pour all the liquid into one goblet and then we can be sure it is poisoned. Then all the liquid can be drunk, and it will be from a single goblet.” Merida: “Brilliant. Look out!” (Merida points and Mulan looks. Merida takes the two goblets and pours all of the liquid into one of them, holding it to drink.) Mulan: “No! I will drink it!” Merida: “As if I’d let you.” Mulan: “You can’t die. This isn’t your destiny.” (Merida toasts Mulan then drinks it.) Mulan: “No! What have you done? (Merida falls off the chair, unconscious:) Merida! No! (Mulan tries to shake Merida awake:) Merida. Merida. Come on! Merida, come on. Come on. Come on! (Mulan turns to Anhora:) Please. Please! Just… let me take her place!” Anhora: “This was Merida’s test, not yours.” Mulan: “You’ve killed her!" Anhora: “She is not dead. She’s merely consumed a sleeping draught.” Mulan: “What?” Anhora: “I believe you have some experience with the poppy flower? (Mulan nods:) She will come round shortly.” Mulan: “I don’t understand?” Anhora: “A unicorn is pure of heart. If you kill one, you must make amends by proving that you also are pure of heart. Merida was willing to sacrifice her life to save yours. She has proven what is truly in her heart. The curse will be lifted.” (Mulan kneels down to check on Merida to find her breathing laboured. Concerned, Mulan picks up the goblet and inspects it.) Mulan: “This was not made with the poppy flower!” (Mulan reaches into the goblet and pulls out a petal.) Anhora: “That’s not possible, I poured the goblets myself earlier today.” Mulan: “Did you leave them unattended? (Anhora considers, then nods:) Then your test was sabotaged and that means that Merida really has been poisoned!”

#sq #swanqueen #swan queen

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goblinconceivable · 4 years

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It’s cool, I can fill my own sails

Finishing the last few eps of s7 OUaT helped. At the very least, it brought up issues of family inclusion and exclusion, which was a heavy theme with Regina back in the day and reexploring that a little with Wish!Hook is intriguing. And the nod to romance being nearly absent from the season gives license to delve into the negative space and supports the reading that Regina/Rogers are on a (very very slow) trajectory.

I don’t know how and when to refer to Wish!Hook/Rogers/whatever, so I’ll just go with Rogers because it’s easier to type, and where the character ends up.

Frankly, there’s about 5 gifs of Regina/Rogers and most of them aren’t shippy in canon. Pulled out, they create a fanon narrative, and that’s great, but I always like to start deep in canon compliance and build/reinterpret from there.

One of the best points in favor of the ship, oddly enough, is the stack of prison books. Which are ordered, intentionally. Snow and Charming are next to each other. Henry and Regina. Alice and Robin. Lucy and Cinderella. And Captain Hook is next to Regina. I don’t know why Zelena/Robin and Hook/Alice are so far apart but that the 4 new characters are on the bottom.

I will note that this season IS a compressed and thematically focused narrative, defined by our 4 returning characters and primarily the parent/child love. Rumple is completing his own long arc, we’ll ignore him except that he is the one reminder of true romantic love in a season otherwise largely ignoring it with the mains. Yes, Henry/Ella begins, but their function is giving birth to a child and starting a family together, rather than their own story as a romance. Which leaves Regina and Rogers, who are all about their kids. Who do find love, next gen starting out with the fresh start their gone-evil parents have undergone change to give them.

They each do get a love interest, insofar as that exists. Rogers had a recurring interest in Tiana, and while she flirted a bit, she shows greater interest in Naveen. Regina had Facilier, more explicit, though he shows greater interest and investment than she does. What this gives us as an opening where Rogers and Regina are both open to romance, though it takes a back seat to their children. True love, for either of them, would be the end of a long journey, rather than the instant-fall we often see. Older, more experienced, more bruised. They both had that already, with first loves, lost it, became villians, and villians, typified by Rumple, get more love journeys.

Regina is more open, she knows how to love and be loved, though she isn’t desperately seeking more because she is content - though she’s realizing she has more to give. She mentors Drizella, she fights for Wish!Henry. Rogers wants more, but he’s in an emotional place Regina was at back in season 2 or so, albeit gentler.

A cool thing about Wish!Realm is that happy endings often don’t exist. The stories are darker. I don’t have much to say about that right now except that rather than losing family, Rogers gained one - and lost it, but he gained love and redemption. Arguably more painful.

I was drawn to 2.5 scenes at the end of the show. The first is right after the curse was broken and Gothel was defeated. Families are reunited, happy. Regina and Henry, Regina and Robin, Cinderella and Lucy mixing in. Alice has Robin. Even Tiana and Naveen run in, holding hands. In the background, largely ignored, is Rogers. This had to be a specific choice, especially since everyone there knows a hospital will not help his affliction, yet someone must have called them. He’s not a part of the larger family of interrelationships, and moreover, is watching Alice become a part of it. His ties are only to Alice, and to Rumple, who is an outlying character (yet STILL part of the group, in his way.)

The .5 is when Regina, Henry and Rogers are together. Rogers tries to join Regina to find Rumple, and she tells him to stay (he does tend to obey her immediately, see her admonishment to find and help Alice at the station.) Later he tries to go with Henry, and Henry knocks him out. He’s TRYING to be helpful, be part of the group, and no one needs or wants him.

The third is at the war table. Again, everyone is sitting around the table, together and despite there being chairs, Rogers stands back, outside the circle. This time, his exclusion is distinctly a decision he has made, how he feels. But something shifts. Charming, the family patriarch, reaches out, with “and a new friend... who feels like an old friend.” Despite having just met him, he accepts him as one of them, and Rogers is surprised but appreciative. It’s particularly touching because Rogers has been with Henry et family (Regina and Zelena etc) for years and never felt that.

The next point is Rumple sacrificing his heart and saving Rogers. It’s the first time someone has sacrificed for him, it’s validation. He’s one of them, annointed by the crocodille. Literally having his heart creates ties to the group, puts him back with Alice so that physical distance is no longer an excuse or reason. It’s is linked to emotional distance, as his quest to cure his heart for Alice, for their relationship, is now over, and he can take a next step.

What happens next? Rogers, the only other active character at this point, explains the situation. He moves from “to save me” to “to save all of us” - he’s considering himself an us, not just his admitted friendship with Rumple, but that perhaps he’s part of the whole. He and Regina were the two tightest with Rumple, so it’s fitting. Regina is 100% about Rumple, double proves he was beloved. It IS his moment, the whole scene was about him. But Rogers is on his own little journey, and he takes Regina’s oblivious hand. Why?

We’ve seen Regina touch him occasionally, more of a distant sympathy or comradery, but human touch is yet important, look at how much Regina hugs her family, and how much Alice and Rogers want to hug and be near each other. Aside from Alice, Rogers never reaches out,

Though as a side bar, when he reaches out to Tiana, to go with her to storm the castle, or hire Alice, she accepts, which probably explains why he likes her. Conversely, trying to manufacture an adventure for Henry goes wrong, and see his recent attempts to help Regina and Henry are rebuffed. All told, dude doesn’t have the best time of it.

So anyway, he takes her hand, and while she doesn’t acknowledge it, she doesn’t reject it either, and that is family. Sometimes you’re just there, behind someone, supporting them as they go through their own thing. And while sometimes you’re pushed away, you just keep trying. Which as Hook with Emma, though I have my own issues with that. They are the same person to large extent, so the tendency is worth mentioning.

Finally, the coronation. Frankly, they had to pan to all the mains and Rogers/Alice/Robin are the least important group -to the show as a whole, the full 7 seasons which this scene is acknowledging and honoring. But they do leave him as Rogers, suit and fake hand. Distinguishing him from Original!Hook. Which again is functional, so grain of salt and shippy eyes. He is not yet integral, but the future is open. As Regina says, see what’s next, indeed.

TLDR; my attempt to find a canon ships fails, but there’s potential if you look. This is a story of an individual journey on Rogers’ part to GET to that point where he can open his heart, and romantic love can follow that. Regina proves she’s now completely comfortable with who she is and who she has, and is open to additional love. There may not be romance in this book, but as to the next...

Addendum because I’m doing the obsessive searching thing: apparently there’s a deleted scene where Rogers asks Henry if he got Regina’s crown. FFS that’s useful information, it means Rogers IS a part of the group, and in fact a larger part of Regina’s future. I mean, he’s there with Alice and Robin. Henry swings by. They’re not just in on the surprise, they’re planning it. He has a role in the new world. ... Deserves it’s own analysis when I process.

Addendum 2 because still tracking down meta: so a reason for Regina looking to Rogers and his nodding could also be that they were talking and he let something slip at some point about... I dunno, something that didn’t make sense to her but now she’s all “oh, so this is what you were talking about?”

#meta #OUaT #hooked queen #captain hook #regina mills

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ailec-12 · 4 years

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Don't ask me what crossed my mind to think of this, but 12 from the touch prompts... with Robin and Zelena in your Greenie series. 💚

Thank you for this prompt, it was a really cool challenge! It turned out a lot longer than I’d planned and I hope you like it. 💚

Also posted on AO3.

12. Leaning on a Shoulder + Anatomy of a Home (aka the Greenie series)

"Robin, I... I need– I need help."

Zelena feels pathetic as soon as she says it. Fortunately, she is on the phone, so Robin cannot see frustration and shame warring on her face. She shuts her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. She reminds herself she has no other option.

"Zelena? Where are you?"

"At the animal shelter. Bring whatever you need to... to pick a lock."

"Are you all right?" There is obvious concern in his voice and Zelena squeezes her eyes shut more tightly for a very different reason.

"Yeah, I am. Just, um, hurry up?"

She cringes a little at her own hesitance, but Robin only reassures her that he will be there before hanging up. She sighs and looks up at the vandalized front door of the shelter.

They have the right to be angry, Zelena firmly tells herself once more. She has terrorised these people, has hurt them. Regina and Henry and the rest of their family may have either forgiven her or just been willing to turn the page and behave decently, but no one is forced to do so. Enduring their anger is part of her atonement. Regina has not told her, but Zelena thinks her sister feels similarly.

A few minutes later, and to her immense relief, Robin finally arrives. He comes on foot, since only Regina owns a car in the family. Although driving is hard, Zelena would like to have a car when she finally gets the hang of it.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

He looks her up and down, as if to make sure she is okay. She thinks she may be blushing slightly, but tries not to think of it in order to avoid making it worse.

"Someone had fun last night," she says, shrugging and pointing at the lock.

"Is that glue?" he asks. His eyes match the surprise in his voice and she offers a curt nod as she keeps her own eyes on the door.

Zelena would like to believe she does not have to feel ashamed of finding herself in this situation —after all, she is not the one stopping people from doing their jobs—, but in a way it is her fault. Surely the Saviour does not deal with this shit.

"Can you... Uh, can you fix it?"

He strokes his beard, pensive.

"I can't pick it like that. I think you'll need to replace it."

She bites her lip. She does not want to call either of the two locksmiths in Storybrooke —they are a couple that cannot stand her. Robin notices her reluctance and puts a hand on her arm without warning. Right away, she flinches the slightest bit. She knows she is safe with him, but her body seems to forget sometimes. She looks him in the eye, smiling half apologetically, half embarrassedly. Overall, she is grateful to have him here. He smiles back.

"Can't you... Can't you fix it with magic?" He is hesitant to ask her and she feels even more ridiculous.

"I... don't know? I don't use it that much. It gets out of control sometimes. What if I blow it up?"

He chuckles, so she relaxes somewhat.

"You've got a point. I'm sure Regina wouldn't mind helping out, though."

It takes a moment for her to gather her courage before speaking up.

"I'd rather not tell her," she says quietly, looking away again.

"She won't mind," he repeats, but she shakes her head.

There is a long silence while they both think of something else to say. Robin manages to find his words first.

"So, I guess there's only one thing left to try."

He lets her go and points at the lock. Zelena really, really hates having no choice. She sighs.

"You're right. Stay away, just in case..."

"You blow it up, I know." His smile grows wider. "You can do this."

His confidence is both uplifting and nerve-wrecking. Her hand shakes when it hovers over the lock. Her magic does not come as readily as before, it is not as obedient.

Zelena's own fear might be playing a part in this, so she pushes the feeling away and focuses on the substance stuck in the lock.

(She is very tempted to draw on her anger, to picture herself viciously unleashing some revenge on those brats, but she pushes down that feeling, too, burying it deeper than any other.)

She does get most of the glue out of the lock eventually, but it is a very slow, frustrating process. She needs all her discipline to keep magic under her command and, when she is finally done, she feels like weeping because she used to be so powerful and this is what she has been reduced to. However, instead of dwelling on these thoughts, she turns around and makes sure to put on her best face.

“There, all done,” she announces, conveying the barest hint of pride in her voice. “I’m so sorry for having bothered you, Robin.”

“It was no bother,” he assures her.

She forces herself to widen her smile, wondering if she will be able to convince him to keep this silly secret between the two of them.

“Still, thank you for coming. Would you care for a cup of tea?”

“Sure.”

She used to carry a thermos bottle with her, but Tink came by one day and decided it would be much more convenient to have a little machine to heat water and make coffee as well. Zelena has yet to learn whether it was the fairy or her sister the one to buy it, but the machine was in her office the following day.

There is a slightly awkward silence while they wait for the water to boil. She longs to pretend to be busy by arranging the papers on her desk or visiting the animals in her care, but she knows a conversation must happen. She lets out a short sigh.

“We agree Regina doesn’t need to hear about this, right?”

“There’s nothing bad about her knowing, Zelena. This wasn’t your fault.”

‘Wasn’t it?’ she wants to shoot back, but she bites her tongue.

“Of course,” she says instead. “It doesn’t matter, though, so I don’t want her to make a big deal out of it.”

“You mean she’ll want to talk about it.”

Zelena rolls her eyes, as if it were not the exact thing she would like to avoid.

“She should know,” Robin goes on after a moment, “in case it doesn’t stop in a jammed lock.”

For some reason, she gets fed up with his concern right at this point. She clenches her jaw and stalks towards him.

“Contrary to popular opinion, I’m an adult and I do not need someone else’s protection. I don’t want Regina to know and that’s all.”

As usual, Robin fails to rise to the bait. He walks past her and takes the cups with hot water out of the machine. Displaying absolute calmness, he puts a teabag in each cup and hands out one to her. She does not take it.

“Regina won’t blame you. She can probably understand what you’re going through,” he insists, quite stubbornly in her opinion. Frowning, he leaves her cup on the desk. “You don’t wish to be understood.”

“I don’t deserve it and I can live with that,” she retorts, making his frown deepen.

“Zelena, it was just a prank, not a divine punishment.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” she cannot help exploding at last. Of all the thieves, her sister had to fall in love with the goodiest two-shoes Zelena has ever met. It is frankly infuriating. “I am aware I deserve worse and I’m aware it’s thanks to Regina I was left off the hook. I can stand a few pranks, I’m not going to break down.”

Yet, there is a catch in her voice and her eyes sting. When she attempts to dry her unshed tears, they spill out, so the only thing she can do is cover her face with her hands. She lets out a quiet breath —sob— before she feels someone else embrace her. It is very different from Regina’s or Henry’s hugs, but also just as warm. For less than a second, she lets herself get lost in the feeling. Then, she recovers her good sense.

She makes a feeble attempt to push him away, but he says ‘It’s all right’ and she loses the battle before starting to fight it. She lets her forehead rest on his shoulder and takes a shuddering breath. Another sob gets out.

“Please, don’t tell her,” she whispers. She feels his sigh rather than hear it.

“I won’t,” he concedes. He lets the silence sink in for a while, as long as she needs to get her bearings. “I promise I won’t. Regina’s not the only person you can talk to, though. You can always come to me. You’ll find no judgement.”

Against her better judgement, she nods against his shoulder, allowing herself to rest there for a little bit longer. She may be unable to meet his gaze, but she hopes he knows she accepts and appreciates his support anyway.

Fancy a touch prompt?

#OUAT #OUAT fanfiction #Zelena #Zelena Mills #Robin Hood #My fics #*#Ask Ail #Ask meme #Serious question #Why does the 'Keep reading' cut hate me #It fucking moved to the beginning again #mariagvogel #Greenie series #Prompt #Touch prompt

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worryinglyinnocent · 4 years

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Fic: The Real Housewives of Storybrooke (14/?)

A fic based on this premise here, following the lives of Storybrooke’s elite wives, with all the scandal, bitching and backstabbing that goes on behind the scenes of high society…

This verse is open for prompts!

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[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [Ten] [Eleven] [Twelve] [Thirteen] [AO3]

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ARIEL

With the party preparations in full swing, Ariel thought that it was high time for her and Belle to sit down and work out a strategy for how they were going to survive the evening, or rather, how Belle was going to get through the evening without being the subject of a scene.

Belle didn’t really cause scenes; they tended to happen to her instead. Still, they’d managed to get through Regina’s garden party without any mishaps and whilst her own birthday celebration had been marred by Zelena’s intervention, Ariel would admit that they’d got off pretty lightly considering what had happened on previous occasions. They’d never yet had a party dissolve into a food fight, but when one considered what could happen when tempers frayed and people started acting like five-year-olds, Ariel didn’t think that such occurrences were completely out of the question.

She rang the Golds’ doorbell and rocked back and forth on her heels as she waited for someone to come and let her in. The Cadillac was gone from the drive so Cameron was obviously out, and who knew where Bae might have gone now that his summer vacation had started, and he was free for a few weeks? Tilly had gone back home the previous day, and according to Regina, Robyn was already missing her.

There was no reply to the doorbell and Ariel’s brow furrowed. Belle knew that she was coming over today, surely she wouldn’t have forgotten and gone out. She made her way round to the front room window and peered in through the glass, but there was nothing to see. Maybe the back door was unlocked.

Ariel picked her way cautiously round to the back of the house and the kitchen. She didn’t know why she was being so furtive; anyone would think that she was a burglar casing the place rather than an invited guest, but the fact that no one appeared to be around to greet her made her wary, and although she considered herself to be somewhat sensible in a crisis, she had fleeting visions of the entire family being struck down by a serial killer and buried under the patio.

Reaching the garden, she found that the patio was intact and there were no signs of freshly dug graves, so her mind was set at rest for all of a minute until a helpful voice told her that the serial killer might still be inside.

She tried the back door and found it unlocked, so she stepped inside warily. At least there were various kitchen implements to defend herself with if necessary.

“Belle?” she called out. “Bae? Mrs P? Anyone?”

There was no response, and Ariel began to worry. They wouldn’t have all gone out and left the doors unlocked; Storybrooke was a comparatively safe town but that was just ridiculous.

“Belle?” Hopefully, her friend wasn’t lying in a heap at the bottom of the stairs having fallen off her stilettos. Ariel was no stranger to killer footwear herself, but Belle’s fascination with it seemed to border on dangerous.

It was as she reached the foot of the stairs - thankfully free of collapsed Belles - that Ariel heard it, and suddenly several things fell into place. From upstairs, she could hear the faint sound of someone retching.

“Belle? Are you ok?” It was a stupid thing to say because she obviously wasn’t, and Ariel wondered why it was everyone’s default question. She went up the stairs slowly and pushed open the master bedroom door, immediately seeing Belle through the crack between the bathroom door and its frame.

Belle looked up from the toilet bowl, her face grey and drawn, and she gave a weak smile as she saw Ariel.

“Morning sickness is a bitch,” she muttered.

Ariel had to smile as she tiptoed into the bathroom, perching on the bath. For all the times she’d been to events with Belle where copious amounts of alcohol had been imbibed, usually it was the other way round as to who was holding the other one’s hair back.

“I was wondering if it had finally happened,” Ariel said. “When I came back to Storybrooke I thought that there was something different about you. Something brighter and happier.”

Belle nodded. “Yep. That was before the morning sickness started. Don’t feel quite so bright now.” She gave a soft little laugh. “I know I’m grousing about it, but I’m honestly happy to be pregnant. I mean, I was prepared for this, it’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting into.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“There should be a packet of ginger tea on the side in the kitchen. Cameron bought it at the weekend and it’s the only thing that helps.”

Ariel went to make the tea and Belle joined her in the kitchen a few minutes later, wrapped up in her robe. She had a little more colour now, and Ariel hoped that the worst was over for the day.

“How far along are you?” she asked.

“Seven weeks.” Belle took a sip of her tea. “It’s not common knowledge yet, but all things considered I thought you’d probably guess anyway. Can we keep it between ourselves for now? Just until I’ve had the first scan and made sure everything’s all right. I needed someone who wasn’t Cameron or Bae or Mrs P to know. I mean, they’re all being great about it, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not like sharing the news with a girlfriend.”

“Of course. I’ll be the very picture of discretion.”

“I think of all our circle of friends, you’re probably the one I trust most. Much as I love Carrie and Ursula, I don’t think that anything stays secret with them for very long, and since Carrie’s solution to everything is to add more gin, I’m not sure she’d be very good at helping with morning sickness.”

“That’s very true.” Ariel had not really met Carrie and Ursula outside of various parties and functions, but the tales that Belle and Cameron told certainly painted a vivid picture. She made herself a cup of tea and sat down at the kitchen table with Belle. “On the other hand, the morning sickness does give you a great excuse for not going to the party.”

“Yes, but I’m slightly concerned as to what the rumour mill might start doing if I don’t attend. People are already starting to wonder why I’ve not been at the library these past few mornings. It generally wears off by about lunch time so I should be ok for the evening.”

“Just maybe steer clear of the buffet table. And the bar.” Ariel thought about the planning sessions at Regina’s, with Robin being promised that he could monopolise the buffet table with Belle instead of having to socialise.

“Yeah, maybe it would be a good idea to sit this one out.” Belle sighed. “It’s a toss-up between everyone wondering why I’m not there, especially since Cameron’s so involved with the whole project and definitely will be there, and everyone wondering why I’m there but not eating or drinking. Which do you think would be worse?”

“Well, we can hope that everyone gets so drunk that they don’t notice. I think that’s usually the way to get around these things.”

She managed to get a laugh out of Belle this time, and Ariel took that as a good sign. Presently, her friend’s stomach grumbled, and Ariel raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I haven’t exactly had any breakfast,” Belle muttered, her still-pale cheeks beginning to colour.

“You’re pregnant. Your stomach’s going to be doing weird things for the next nine months.” Ariel reached across and patted Belle’s hand. “Don’t worry about it. Can I make you some toast or something?”

“That sounds like a good idea. You don’t have to get it. I’m the host here.” She looked down at her pyjamas and bathrobe. “I’m not doing a very good job of it, but I can try.”

“Belle, you’re in a rather tender state at the moment. Just let someone else take care of you for once. You know that if Cameron didn’t have to go and save the world as we know it, he’d be here waiting on you hand and foot.”

“Yeah, I practically had to push him out of the door this morning.” Belle glanced down at her belly. “If it wasn’t for the constant throwing up, I’d still be wondering if this was all a dream.”

Ariel set about making some toast. “It’s strange. I’ve never really thought about being pregnant,” she said. “If you go swimming whilst pregnant, does that make you a human submarine?”

“Ariel.” Belle gave her a pained look. “Sometimes I wonder where your mind goes.”

“Submarines, evidently. In all seriousness though, I’m really happy for you. This is all you’ve wanted for so long and I’m so glad that it’s finally come good in the end. Even if you are now as sick as a parrot.”

“It’ll pass.” Belle nibbled on her toast. “Have you ever wanted children, you and Eric?”

“No. We talked about it early on, back when we were first starting up the business, and it was just never a priority for us. We’ve always been happy just as a duo. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if we had an accident, so to speak. Things might change then. But we’ve never planned on it. I’ve never really had maternal urges. I’m the cool fairy godmother instead. That was a hint, by the way.”

Belle shook her head with a laugh. “We’re nowhere near thinking that far ahead yet. We just want to get through these first few months with no mishaps, then we’ll start appointing go-to babysitters. You do know that the job doesn’t come with a wand and special powers, right?”

“I can always dream. Have you thought about names yet? Come on, you’ve been thinking about this entire adventure for months, you must have thought about names.”

“I’ve always been more concerned with actually getting the baby rather than naming it,” Belle said, but it was clear that she was already off in a little world of her own as she pondered names for her future child. “I like Gideon for a boy. I know it’s a bit unusual, but it’s not too out there. And I like flower names for girls. Rose, Lily, Iris.”

“Chrysanthemum.”

“You jest, but I may call your bluff in nine months’ time, and then where would you be.”

“I’d be congratulating you on your excellent taste in names.”

They both fell about in laughter after that, and Ariel smiled. It was good to know that even though Belle was not feeling at her best right now, her enthusiasm for motherhood had not been dampened, and her patience had finally paid off in the best possible way.

#Belle French #Ariel #OUAT Fanfiction #Fic: The Real Housewives of Storybrooke

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believingispowerfulmagic · 4 years

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“We All Will Be Together” Chapter 4: April Joys

Regina entered Robin’s store, the bell tingling as the door opened. She glanced around, hoping not to spot her husband’s familiar form. A few customers milled around the store and John manned the cash register but there was no sign of Robin. Relief filled her and she approached John.

“Hello, Regina,” he greeted her warmly. “Robin isn’t here. He had a meeting with a supplier.”

“Good. I want to talk to you about him. Specifically, his birthday,” she said.

He tilted his head, checking the calendar pinned up behind him. “It’s still a few weeks away, Regina. His birthday is…”

“April eighteenth,” she finished. “I know that. And I know it’s over a month away but we know how fast things can go. I want to throw a surprise party for him but Easter is going to get in the way.”

John nodded. “We probably should have it before then. But are you sure you want to plan a surprise party on top of your wedding ceremony?”

Regina bit her lip, knowing he had a good point. She and Robin had decided to get married at the end of June, right after school ended for their boys and before the real heat of summer could kick in. Their plan was to then celebrate the 4th of July with their family and friends before sending Henry and Roland to a two-week sleepaway camp. During that time, she and Robin were going on a weeklong cruise to the Caribbean for their honeymoon. She knew it didn’t leave much time for planning but she wasn’t trying to throw a big wedding, just a small ceremony to give them what Santa had robbed from them—memories of actually getting married.

That didn’t mean there still was a lot to plan for the wedding, though. But Regina was getting a lot of help from both Tink and Mary Margaret, so she felt confident she could pull off a surprise party for Robin as well.

“I’m not planning anything big,” she told John. “Probably just a small gathering in the backyard. Tink’s helping with the wedding, so I was hoping you could help with this.”

John smiled, nodding. “I’d be happy to help. Just let me know what you need me to do.”

Regina grinned, reaching into her purse. She pulled out a folded piece of paper and held it out to him. “Do you think you can take care of these?”

He took the paper and unfolded it, scanning the items she had written down. John nodded. “Looks easy enough.”

“Good,” she said, relieved. “This is a big help.”

“Anything to make sure Robin has a great birthday. He deserves it,” he replied, tucking the list into his pocket.

She nodded, leaning back. “Thanks. I’ll be in touch when I can. I think we can pull this off.”

“Me too,” he agreed. “Can’t wait to see the look on Robin’s face.”

Excited, Regina said goodbye to John and headed out of the store. This was going to be the best surprise party she had ever planned.

Robin deserved nothing less.

*****

It had been a crazy morning. Robin had barely taken his first sip of coffee when Regina had shoved a list at him. Apparently she liked to create big baskets for Henry to open on Easter morning and this year was also making one for Roland. There were a lot of things she needed and she tasked him with picking all of it up without the boys while she went food shopping with them. Robin sighed but kissed her cheek, agreeing to do it. After all, how hard could it be to grab everything?

Very hard, apparently, as he had to run to three different stores to get everything on the list—especially as Regina had been very specific about each item’s color, size and brand. He loved that she was a perfectionist but sometimes, it drove him crazy.

Almost three hours after he left, he finally returned home. Robin pulled into the driveway and killed his engine, just taking a moment to take a few deep breaths before carrying everything inside. He hoped all he had to do now was just relax with his wife and sons.

Robin opened his car door and quickly retrieved everything from the back of his truck. He did his best to only have to make one trip and his muscles strained as he carried the bags and baskets into the house. By the time he got to his bedroom, there was a definite burn. He dumped everything into the closet before rubbing his arms.

It was then he noticed how quiet the house was.

Too quiet.

His eyes narrowed and he stepped out of the house. Even with the boys in tow, she should’ve beaten him home. Unless there were a few more errands she had to run, he figured. He sighed and decided to enjoy the silence while he could.

Robin hit the last step and was about to head to the kitchen when Regina’s voice stopped him. “Robin? Are you home?”

“Yes,” he replied, turning around to find his wife coming from the backyard. He frowned. “I didn’t think you were home.”

She nodded. “I stopped by because I wanted to check our propane tank ahead of barbeque season. Can you come help me?”

“Sure,” he said, heading toward the backdoor. “If you want, though, I can always get the tank during the week.”

“Let’s just check it out, okay?” She held open the door for him and he stepped out into the warm April sun.

“SURPRISE!”

Robin stood frozen to the spot just outside the backdoor as he slowly took in the backyard. His friends filled it, standing around folding tables covered with green tablecloths and white and green balloons as centerpieces. He slowly turned to face Regina, noticing the “Happy Birthday” banner hanging over the door. She beamed, clearly happy and proud of herself.

She had thrown him a surprise party.

“Happy birthday, darling,” she said, going up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against him, grinning. “You sly minx.”

“Careful,” she said, dropping her voice. She glanced over his shoulder. “We have company.”

Robin chuckled, nodding. He wrapped his arm around her waist as he turned to face the family and friends standing in their backyard. Shrugging, he grinned as he announced: “You got me!”

“Papa!” Roland raced from the crowd and leapt into his arms. Henry was right behind him and Robin gathered him up too, holding his sons close.

Roland hugged him. “You were surprised?”

“I was,” Robin assured him. He kissed his cheek before kissing Henry’s cheek. “This is the best party ever.”

Henry giggled. “It just started! How can you say that?”

“Well, are you here?” Robin asked. When Henry nodded, he continued. “And Roland? And your mum?”

“Yes,” he replied. “And yes.”

Robin nodded. “And all our friends, right?”

Henry looked around the yard before nodding. “Yep.”

“That sounds like the best party ever to me then,” he finished.

“I guess it is,” Henry agreed. He beamed as he looked over at his mother. “We threw the best party ever, Mom!”

Regina laughed, rubbing his back as she pressed Roland to her side. “I’m glad to hear it. We all worked really hard on this for your father.”

“Are we going to stand around all day or are we going to party?” John called out, a beer in his hand.

Chuckling, Robin put Henry down. “Well, if we’re going to party, someone needs to get me a beer. Namely someone whose name rhymes with Con.”

John let out a belly laugh before heading toward the cooler. “Fair enough, mate. Your usual?”

“Yep,” Robin said. “And make it the coldest bottle in that cooler. It’s pretty hot out here.”

Regina wrapped her arm around him, resting her hand against his back. “We really lucked out with the weather. I was worrying about it all week.”

Things clicked as he recalled her religiously watching the news every night, hushing him and pushing him away whenever the weather was on. She was cagey whenever he asked about it, muttering excuses about starting her garden or doing something with the boys, before changing the subject. Now it all made sense.

He kissed the side of her head. “I’m glad it all worked out.”

“Regina worked really hard to plan this,” John said, handing Robin his beer. “She wanted this to be a great day for you.”

Robin glanced down at Regina, whose cheeks had turned pink as she stared at the lawn. It made his heart skip a beat and he smiled softly. “She makes every day a great day for me.”

“Ugh.” John wrinkled his nose. “I’m going to walk away before I’m sick.”

He walked away as Robin took a sip of his beer, hiding his smile. Regina looked up, gently poking him in the side. “We should join our other guests. After all, they are here for you.”

“Good point,” he said, moving toward the rest of the crowd. As he took another sip of his beer, he felt himself relax and knew this was going to be a fun party.

Non-smut version is on FFN.

Smutty versions are on AO3 and Wattpad.

#once upon a time #outlaw queen #hood-mills family #oq au #oq ff #the christmas wish #we all will be together

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wistfulcynic · 5 years

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Three Non-Blondes, 2 / 4

My silly two-shot has become a silly three shot. It’s so silly. Though it does get a little sad. Then ends on a very silly note.

Summary: Mary Margaret is certain that her fiancé’s sister Emma and his best friend Killian are perfect for each other. What she doesn’t know is that they think so too. Matchmaking hijinks ensue.

Rating: T

AO3

Killian Jones knew he would never forget the day he’d met Emma Swan. It was a fixed point in his timeline, eternal and unchanging, the thing around which all else in his life revolved.

He’d only been living in Boston for a month or so when he met her brother David through their mutual friend and his fellow expat Robin. He and Dave had hit it off immediately despite their very different personalities, and with the addition of Killian the casual duo of David and Robin had morphed into a tight threesome.

Er… a close trio of friends. Yeah, that sounded better.

Fast forward to several months later and a night out at their local and Killian walking through the door with a swagger and a smile for the bartender because it was Ruby tending bar that night and stopping dead in his tracks, oblivious to Ruby and to Robin waving him over and to the three-person pile-up behind him because he suddenly knew what being struck by lightning felt like.

Okay, that was hyperbole. He was certain being struck by lightning was nothing near as pleasant as seeing Emma for the first time had been. She took his breath away with her hair that seemed lit by sunlight even though it was dark outside and the lithe strength in her bare arms and and the cheeky grin she’d flashed at David just before she made an impossible bank shot and beat his arse at pool. Killian didn’t think he’d ever before laid eyes on a woman so bloody perfect.

But then David had introduced them and he had smiled at her, and abruptly all the light had gone out of Emma Swan, and she had frozen out all his attempts at conversation and got away from him as soon as she could, and the next time he saw her she was smiling at Graham —poor lovesick bastard— and through his hurt and disappointment Killian had vowed that he would not be another Poor Graham.

So he had flirted with Ruby and with Mary Margaret and even with Regina —that had been bloody terrifying— and he had not let Emma or anyone else see how much she’d gotten to him.

And even though he loved his new friends he’d begun to leave their gatherings early if Emma was in attendance, drinking just enough to make himself not care that he was leaving with the wrong woman, letting them all think he was a dog and a player, and he supposed he was, by purely objective standards. At what point did the cover get so deep that it became reality?

And sometimes, on rare occasions, he drank enough to drown the hurt he felt at Emma’s very evident disdain, and David or Robin or Ruby or sometimes even Poor bloody Graham would have to carry him home, and it was all Killian could do on those nights to bite his tongue and not let spill the real reason for his behaviour.

She had no right to judge him, he wanted to protest, to someone, anyone who would listen. She barely knew him. She hadn’t taken the trouble to know him, just given him one glance and written him off.

He knew her, though. It wasn’t hard to get David to talk about the little sister he was so proud of and Killian had shamelessly nudged and urged and dropped casual questions into enough conversations that after a year or so he felt he knew Emma as well as anyone despite their having only exchanged a handful of words, most of them vaguely hostile.

He knew that she was tough and smart and independent, and a bit prickly at times but a deeply loyal friend. And he knew that sometime over the course of the year his initial fascination had deepened into something else, and he was beginning to worry that she had ruined him for all other women when he had never even touched her. Not so much as a brush of arms as they stood at the crowded bar. She hadn’t even shaken his hand.

Until one evening six months ago when David was working late on a case and Mary Margaret had thirty tests to grade and Robin and Regina were away for the weekend and it was Ruby’s night off. Killian had gone to the pub in his old neighbourhood just to get out of his new house and maybe chase his errant muse, and when he’d caught sight of Emma across the room he tipped his glass in toast to her then turned his back. The last thing he needed in his current mood was to watch her flirting with someone else.

He’d sipped in quiet contemplation until a flash of gold shone in his peripheral vision and when he turned his head she was there, determination and challenge and a hint of fear in her eyes.

“Why don’t you like me?”

He had not expected that. “I don’t not like you.”

“You never talk to me.”

He almost laughed. “What I think you’ll find, Swan, is that you never talk to me.”

“You didn’t talk first.” Something in her tone hinted that she was trying to be flirtatious and suddenly he was furious.

“I did talk to you, if you recall, the night we met,” he said, turning to face her fully and leaning in just close enough to crowd her personal space. “Or rather I tried to before I started to get fucking frostbite from your lack of response. Not talking to you since then was simply acceding to your evident desire not to be in my company because despite what you think I am a goddamn gentleman.”

“Wow,” she said. “You really do have a thing with words.”

Killian slammed his glass on the bar and stood up. “I don’t need this tonight,” he growled and headed for the door, ignoring the “Killian, wait!” he could vaguely hear behind him.

He was through the doors and several long strides down the sidewalk when she caught up to him. “Wait,” she cried, the light touch of her hand on his arm burning him through the thin fabric of his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

Anger and frustration were still seething in him and he spun around on her, pulling his arm from her grasp. “Sorry for what, Swan? For freezing me out then accusing me of not liking you? For judging me and finding me wanting before we’d even exchanged hellos? For having the audacity to call me out for not forcing my company on you when you so clearly don’t want it? Which of those things are you sorry for?”

She opened her mouth but no words came out, and he made an impatient motion with his hand. “It doesn’t matter because I do not accept your apology. Good night.” He spun on his heel and began to walk again.

“All of it.”

The quavering vulnerability in her voice threatened to break his heart. He turned.

“What?”

“I’m sorry for all of those things, actually, except the last one because that was just me trying to fix things with you but I didn’t know if it was too late, and for some reason I thought I’d try flirting but obviously that didn’t work, and oh, God, I’m just so fucking bad at this.”

Her distress was real, and it softened the sharp edges of his anger. “Bad at what, love?”

“At connecting with people. You’re right, I was cold to you and I pushed you away, and I’m sorry for it. I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” he asked, taking a small step forward.

“Of how much I liked you,” she replied, stepping forward herself though she couldn’t meet his eyes. “Or of liking you in the wrong way, or… oh, I don’t know just call it general fear of getting close to someone.”

“But you’re close to a number of people.” Another step.

“It’s not the same. They don’t—” Step. Hesitant glance at his face.

Step. Slight lean forward. “They don’t what, Emma?”

Step, closing the remaining distance between them. “They don’t make me feel like you do,” she whispered.

They were close enough now that he could count her freckles. Killian wasn’t sure he was breathing. “And just how do I make you feel?” he croaked.

“Like…” She finally met his eyes, and what he saw in hers made his heart soar. “Like I want to just grab you and—” and then she was surging up on her toes and her mouth was on his and his hands were in her hair and he was kissing Emma Swan in the middle of the sidewalk in front of a bar, feeling like lightning had struck twice, despite what they say.

Then they were kissing in the back of a very smelly cab and then in his bed, and when he woke up the next morning with her head on his chest and stray strands of her hair in his mouth he knew he was fucked in at least three senses of the word.

—

Since then he and Emma had been very careful not to be seen by their friends in each other’s company. Their friends were a pushy lot, well-meaning but overbearing, and Killian did not want them ruining the frail spring bud of his and Emma’s romance by trying to force it to blossom too fast and too soon. Emma was wary of commitment, and if he was honest so was he, and so they agreed to keep things secret until they knew what they had together.

Which, unfortunately, meant staying away from each other in public. Killian was afraid that their friends would take one look at the looks on their faces when they looked at each other and know that they were sleeping together. He was fairly certain that whenever he looked at Emma his face still wore the same dumb, adoring grin that she’d teased him about that first morning they’d woken up together. He had just been so stupidly happy that she hadn’t snuck away in the middle of the night as he’d half expected her to that he hadn’t cared what his face looked like, and six months later Emma still teased him about it. He didn’t care about that either. The fact that she felt comfortable enough to tease him and knew him well enough to do so was a source of boundless joy to him.

He was just so helplessly in love with her, and he was beginning to allow himself to hope that she might feel the same.

But he still didn't trust their friends not to ruin everything.

—

Killian was floating in the hazy state of being somewhere between asleep and awake, absently running his fingers through Emma’s hair and simply enjoying having her in his arms, her skin pressed against his and her breath soft on his neck, punctuated with a little snore that he found adorable, when from the bedside table his phone began to buzz. Hastily he grabbed for it before the insistent noise woke Emma. She did not enjoy being woken early.

“H’lo?” he muttered into the device.

“Killian!” It was David, using that forced jovial voice he got when he was doing something under duress. “Are you still asleep? I thought you had to get up early?”

“Aye, just about to get up now. I, uh, still have some time to make my deadline.”

“Your editor’s a real hard-ass, huh, giving you a deadline on a Sunday.”

“Aye, she’s a mean one.” Killian tried to keep his voice down, but despite his efforts Emma had begun to stir. She blinked sleepily then buried her face in his shoulder with a groan. “Ugh, what time is it?” she said.

“What was that?” asked David. “Do you have someone there?”

Killian thought fast. Emma’s voice had likely been sufficiently muffled by his shoulder that David wouldn’t recognise it, if he could just play this off…

“Aye, mate, I ran into an old friend after I left the pub, and, well, she’s not left yet.”

“Uh huh,” said David, and Killian frowned. He could swear he heard guilt in his friend’s voice. “Well, look, I won’t keep you from your, um, friend, but I’m just calling because my mom is insisting that you come to dinner tonight.”

Emma’s face was still in Killian’s shoulder but her hand was slowly sliding down his abs and he swallowed a moan. “Mate, I’m not sure—”

“Insisting, Killian.” The guilt in David’s voice had turned to desperation but it barely registered on Killian as Emma’s hand closed around him. “You know you can’t refuse her when she insists.”

“Aye,” Killian at this point just wanted him off the phone. “Very well, I’ll be there.”

“Oh, thank God. I mean, see you there.” David hung up and Killian tossed his phone aside, growling as he rolled Emma onto her back and attacked her neck with kisses, all thoughts of the dinner at Ruth’s momentarily forgotten.

—

David placed his phone down on the kitchen counter in front of him, and rubbed his temples. “So let me just be absolutely certain I understand this. Your plan is to matchmake them to each other by matchmaking them to other people?”

“Oh David try to keep up,” said Mary Margaret from the dining table, where she was actually making a chart. “The aim of matchmaking is usually just to introduce people you think would be into each other. But Emma and Killian are already into each other, so obviously they don’t need that. What they need is a kick up the backside to get them to admit they’re into each other.”

“And you think pretending to hook them up with other people will accomplish that?”

“Yep. If for no other reason than that it’ll be reeeeeally annoying for them.”

“What’s that supposed to accomplish?”

“Reverse psychology,” said Mary Margaret, tapping the side of her nose. “If we obviously try to push them together they’ll just fight us, but if we push them towards other people, they’ll both be like ‘Hell no, hands off my bae.’”

“I can’t believe you just said ‘bae.’”

“It was appropriate to the context. Now hand me my phone, please, I’m gonna call Belle.”

David groaned. “I feel like I’ve just invited my best friend into a lion’s den.”

“That’s because you have, sweetie.”

#secret relationship #matchmaking #matchmaking fail #best friend's sister trope #just a bit of silliness #and a hint of angst #profdanglaisstuff #three non-blondes #cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au

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aliteraryprincess · 5 years

Photo

The Firethorn Crown by Lea Doué

Warning: Contains spoilers

Welcome back to Fairy Tale Friday! By popular vote, we are looking at another retelling of “The Twelve Dancing Princesses.” The timing couldn’t be better because this month marks the one year anniversary of this feature, and the first book I posted on was also a retelling of this tale. You can read that post here. Now let’s jump into The Firethorn Crown!

As a Retelling:

As with the majority of this tale’s retellings, The Firethorn Crown focuses on the eldest princess, Lily. This is common because in the Grimms’ version of the tale--which is the best known--the soldier marries the eldest. This is also the case with many variations, though in some it is the youngest instead. Also following the German version, Lily’s love interest, Eben, is a former soldier. Unlike in the various variations, Eben does not come into the picture after the princesses begin their nightly dancing. He is their guard and has known them for years, which provides a strong relationship between him and Lily from the beginning of the book.

Also like the German version and the majority of other variations, Doué’s princesses dance in an underground realm. However, the entrance the realm is in a different location than it is in most of the tales. Usually the entrance is in the princesses’ bedroom, often beneath the bed of the eldest sister. We can find this not just in the Grimms’ tale, but also in French, Russian, Romanian, and Danish variants, among others. The entrance to Doué’s underground realm, called the undergarden, is in a hedge maze in the royal garden. Most people avoid the maze since it’s dark and creepy, but the princesses enjoy playing in there. They discover the undergarden while running through the maze trying to avoid Lord Runson, an unwanted suitor of Lily’s. When they return each night, they have to sneak out of their room and into the garden. There are a few variants that involve the princesses leaving their rooms to attend the balls, usually by flight. In a Russian version called “Elena the Wise” the girls turn into doves while in the Hungarian “The Hell-Bent Misses” they fly on brooms. The way the princesses in this book sneak out is more similar to how the final suitors in most of the tales follow them: they turn invisible. Generally the suitor uses a magical article of clothing, such as a cloak or a cap, but in some versions he uses a flower from a magical plant. Doué’s princesses gain the ability to become invisible when holding hands during their first trip to the undergarden. They use this along with a series of distractions to get by the guards at their door.

Doué borrows the concept of a curse causing the princesses to dance from the French and Romanian tales. Most versions of this story are vague even by fairy tale standards, which allows her to create her own backstory behind the curse. Her villain is Tharius, a sorcerer prince cursed to live in the undergarden. He can only leave if someone willingly marries him, rather in the style of “Beauty and the Beast.” When Lily and her sisters enter the undergarden, he tricks them and lays a curse of his own to force them back each night so he can court Lily. The girls can’t speak about the curse, providing a reason for them to keep everything a secret, and Lily can’t speak at all outside of the undergarden. This does not come from any version of “The Twelve Dancing Princesses” that I know of, but it does have an origin in fairy tales such as “The Six Swans.” Lily can only break the curse by declaring her love and having it returned.

While Doué does use a lot from the original stories, she also makes a number of changes. The most interesting to me is the inclusion of the princesses’ mother. In every version of the tale, their mother is either dead or not mentioned at all. Every retelling I’ve encountered other than this has followed suit and killed her off, sometimes incorporating it into the plot, as in Princess of the Midnight Ball and Entwined. Not only is she alive in The Firethorn Crown, she is also a large presence throughout the story. In fact, it is her, not the king, who declares that anyone who solves the princesses’ mystery can marry one of them. This is done in a moment of anger, and she ultimately doesn’t mean it. However, it is said in front of witnesses, so she cannot redact it. In the original tale, depending on how you choose to read it, the king can be seen as anything from well-meaning yet overprotective to an overbearing patriarchal figure trying to control his daughters’ autonomy. Switching the father for the mother is a fascinating choice and is probably the most unique aspect of the book as a retelling. Perhaps Doué felt a story of tension between mother and daughter would resonate more with a modern, teenage audience. Whatever her reasoning, I liked the change!

This leads to another notable change: neither Eben nor anyone else stays in the princesses’ quarters to find out their secret. This plot point is featured in almost every version of the fairy tale, and I was surprised to see it left out here. I’m not sure why Doué didn’t use it, but it could be because the timeline is condensed. In the fairy tale, we get the impression that the princesses have been wearing their shoes out night after night for months, if not years. This provides enough time for each suitor to try and fail for three nights. The Firethorn Crown takes place over the course of a few days, which obviously isn’t enough time for any of that to happen. Another reason may be the issue of how creepy it is to let random men sleep in the princesses’ quarters. It’s kind of hard to swallow from a modern perspective. Even Eben, who is close with the girls, does not stay in their rooms. He doesn’t even follow them without their knowledge. When he goes to the undergarden, they actually bring him along so he can help. The condensed timeline also causes one last change: the princesses don’t go through nearly as many shoes. By my count, they only wear out two pairs each. After the first pairs get ruined, one of the girls places an order for the new ones. These get worn out quickly as well, but they never get more. Their mother finds out about the new shoes and becomes furious. It is at this point that she makes the declaration about marrying one of them to whoever solves the mystery.

My Thoughts:

This is a solid retelling of the tale and an overall enjoyable read. I cared about Lily and Eben, and I thought Doué handled the relationship well. I was rooting for them the whole time. And I always appreciate when there isn’t insta-love. Tharius is also an intriguing villain. He’s manipulative to the point where I wasn’t even sure if he was the villain for a while. And even once I was sure, I still felt bad for him. His actions are deplorable, but I understood his reasons. I love finding a villain with a good, and even sympathetic, motive.

Even though I liked the book, there were several problems that kept my rating from being higher. The first is a problem that plagues most retellings of this story: the characterization of the princesses suffers due to the number of them. The only one I felt I knew was Lily; the rest I couldn’t even really tell apart. I talked about this same issue in my post on Princess of the Midnight Ball and in my (really old) review of Entwined (which you can read here). I remain convinced that the only way to solve this is to cut out some princesses, as Juliet Marillier does in Wildwood Dancing. Not all variants of this tale use twelve girls; there are Hungarian, Russian, and Czech versions that feature three and Danish and Portuguese versions that only have one.

My other big problem is the lack of explanation we get for some characters’ motivations and backstories. The queen’s motivations in particular confused me. We are told early on that the king has allowed Lily to take her time choosing a husband. He is mostly absent during the story, and it seems that as soon as he’s gone the queen starts pushing Lily to make a choice. She nags her about supposedly leading Lord Runson on and sets up private outings with a visiting prince. When Lily isn’t speaking due to the curse, the queen gives her a deadline in order to force her into making a choice. We’re never given a reason for any of this, so she just ends up seeming like a controlling jerk. I was also left with a lot of questions regarding the relationship between Lily and Lord Runson. At some point before the start of the story, the two were good friends. However, some kind of betrayal occurred and caused Lily to hate him. We never get any other information on this backstory, and I really want to know. Since he is a major part of the story, it felt like it should have been explained more.

My Rating: 3 stars

Other Reading Recommendations:

The starred titles are ones I have read myself. The others are ones I want to read and may end up being future Fairy Tale Friday books. To keep the list from getting too long, I’m limiting it to four that I’ve read and four that I haven’t.

Other Retellings of “The Twelve Dancing Princesses”:

Wildwood Dancing by Juliet Marillier*

Princess of the Midnight Ball by Jessica Day George*

Entwined by Heather Dixon*

The Door in the Hedge by Robin McKinley*

The Night Dance by Suzanne Weyn

House of Salt and Sorrows by Erin A. Craig

The Midnight Dancers by Regina Doman

The Girls at the Kingfisher Club by Genevieve Valentine

More Retellings by Lea Doué:

The Midsummer Captives

The Red Dragon Girl

The Moonflower Dance

Snapdragon

Red Orchid

Mirrors and Pearls

About the Fairy Tale:

Twelve Dancing Princesses Tales from Around the World by Heidi Anne Heiner*

Coming in July:

Thank you to everyone who voted in the July poll! “Rapunzel” won, and the retelling of it that I picked just came into the library this evening! The post will hopefully be up by the second week of July. “Bluebeard” and “East of the Sun, West of the Moon” tied for second place, and I’m not quite sure what to do about that. I could try to do both, but I’m not sure if I’ll have time. I have options on the way for both tales. If I can only do one, does anyone have a preference? Comment to let me know!

Have a recommendation for me to read or a suggestion to make Fairy Tale Friday better? Feel free to send me an ask!

#booklr #aliteraryprincess fairy tale friday #the firethorn crown #lea doue #book photography #fairy tale retellings #the twelve dancing princesses #books

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lassluna · 5 years

Text

Let the Stars Remind You (15/20)

“It’s ok Papa, you don’t have to worry. We can trust her, she’s just like me,” She says holding his hand. “She can hear the stars. She’s just like me.” she repeats, a look of wonder on her face, pure belief in what she’s saying. Killian looks down at her. His little girl, his Starfish, and isn’t sure. He still isn’t sure if rescuing Emma Swan is the best thing he’s ever done, or their undoing.

AN: The end is in sight! Thank you all for the wonderful comments on this monster of a piece, it means the world to me. I'm so excited to post this chapter.

Ao3 FFn

The girl, Robin, comes back the next day, or what Killian assumes is the next day. Without the light of the window it becomes increasingly more difficult to tell time in Eloise’s dungeon.

She comes back with a small collection of things, pieces of metal mostly, along with some utensils and small tools. “These things are used to pick locks.” The girl says proudly.

It’s a worthy plan Killian agrees, but there proves to be a rather significant problem.

“There’s no lock on the door.” he points out, feeling the smooth metal of the door, there isn’t a blemish to be had. He’d spent several hours contemplating that exact plan. He sees the pride drain from the young girl’s face.

“What about the hinges?” Robin asks. There also appears to be no hinges. It’s as if the metal bars appeared in the wall with no intention of ever releasing their prisoner.

(A thought Killian wouldn’t put past Eloise.)

The girl releases a heavy sigh sinking to the floor cross legged, her arms folded tightly. “This is going to be harder than I thought.” She concluded.

“Aye, but I appreciate the help Miss Mills.” He addresses. The girl rolls her eyes.

“Robin. It’s Robin.” Robin insists as she starts nervously running fingers through her hair.

“Alright Robin. What exactly led you to be here of all places, you obviously haven't bought into their spiel.” he notices, her being younger it surprises him. He’d expect this type of resilience from someone older. “You’re mother isn’t one of them is she?” He asks.

The girl laughs. “No way. My mom would rather die than be here. Honestly Gothel tried to get my mom here, but she doesn’t exactly like being told what to do.” He can see the girl grin at the mention of her mother. “Once my mom finds out I’m here she’s going to kill Gothel, and then probably me. But that’s fine.” She insists. “Because then I get to go home.”

“Then how did you end up here?” Killian asks. This makes her uncomfortable, makes her fingers twirl through her hair faster.

“I um...maybe I bought into a little of their crap. I thought...well she promised me something...but then went back on it. She actually laughed in my face about it and now won’t let me go home...” She says trailing off. “I really want to go home.”

He believed her, and he swore he’d get her there. Eloise was not going to separate anymore children from their families. But he didn’t exactly know how to go about doing that.

“Do you know how to play cards?” Robin blurts out. He’s taken a back.

“Cards?” He repeats. She nods.

“You know like poker?” He gives her a strange look, this is the last thing he’s expecting.

“You look a little young for gambling lass.”

“My Dad played poker, he was a professional.” She says proudly. “But he didn’t get to teach me...”

“I know how to play, but I’m not too sure if I should be teaching you if your Mom doesn’t want you learning.”

“We are in an evil witch’s cult dungeon” she deadpans. “I don’t think it could get much worse.”

Well she was right about that.

“Alright lass, divide those pieces evenly and we’ll get started.” he says sitting as close to the bars as possible. “I’ll make sure we have a full deck.”

They were missing four cards, but that had never stopped him before. He used to make up odd rule changes when he and Alice were missing pieces to their games and here was no different. After a few hours of playing with Robin they decided to call it a day and Robin disappeared again, promising to come back tomorrow.

She did.

Sometimes they’d play cards, other times she’d ask about random things, how sports worked, why cars were noisy; how to start a fire out of wood.

He tried to teach her chess once but she grew rather bored quickly.

Sometimes she’d come for a few minutes telling him about what Eloise would do: Like when she got so angry she yelled at a woman named Elsa and made the woman cry.

Other times Robin bitterly wanted to pretend they were anywhere else. So he agreed and he pretended they were having a tea party. Robin thought it was stupid at first, but Killian did eventually get her to talk to ‘Mr. Rabbit’. It made Robin laugh so he counted it as a win.

Somehow, however, she never came down when Eloise or whoever else brings him his daily food was here. Killian knew it was only a matter of time before their alliance was caught.

Eloise still taunted them, but they seemed to lose their bite now that she wasn’t his only source of contact from the world above. He tried to pretend otherwise, to protect Robin from being discovered. If Robin was caught and punished because of him, Killian didn’t know if he could live with himself.

“What do they say about Alice and I?” He asks one day staring up at the ceiling as Robin counts the collection of things she brought down that morning. “They have to have some explanation for keeping a man in the dungeon.”

There’s a pause.

“They say you kidnapped her. That you want to use her for her magic, that you brainwashed her.” He looks up at her. “Apparently Eloise had some sort of vision about the Guardian being her daughter and being able to tame the darkest magic ever.” Robin rambles. “I think she’s just a twat.”

Killian chuckles.

“What really did happen?” Robin asks softly.

“Alice is my daughter, my flesh and blood, but Eloise is her mother. Her mother who abandoned her.” He can see the surprise on her face. Eloise, who claims to be everyone’s mother around here, had abandoned her own flesh and blood. “Eloise thought that Alice was born without magic so she had no need of her. Trust me when I tell you that the only reason she wants you here, is because she sees some use for you, otherwise she’ll throw you away.”

Robin nods, allowing him to continue.

“She tried to enter Alice’s life again, and then kidnapped her from her school and proceeded try and to take her magic from her.”

“Take her magic?” Robin repeats. “She can’t do that!” Killian nods.

“Alice however...well I’m not too sure how she failed, all I know was that Alice screamed and everything shattered, she broke the spell and we ran. We ran to try and go to the police, but well they didn’t believe us, worse, she made them think I kidnapped her.” He shakes his head at the memory, of the teachers recounting a story that never happened, his employees talking about his alcohol consumption, all lies. The only person unaffected was his partner Weaver and his wife, who told him to take Alice and run, Alice who was too scared to leave the house, begging him to not let the bad people turn her into a tree. Weaver told him he’d sort everything out, told him to call Liam and then get out of town. “So we ran until she found us.”

They were quiet for a bit until Robin piped up.

“They haven’t found her.” She says. “If that makes you feel better. Gothel is pissed and biting everyone’s head off, so they haven’t found her.” It did make things better.

“What’s home like for you?” He asks. The girl shrugs.

“Do you have friends. “ She nods. “Do you do any sports?” Another nod. “What does your mom do?”

“Exercise…she runs a small gym in town, does exercise classes and basically does anything to be home.” The girl crosses her arms. “So I do a bunch of after school stuff, usually Aunt Regina comes to get me…”She trails off. “Whenever Mom is home with Aunt Regina they fight, like all the time, about me…”

He watches her get tenser with every word. “They stop when I’m in the room, but it’s always so tense when they’re both there, and Regina is always home with us, sometimes I wish she wouldn’t spend so much time there, but then I’d be alone…” Robin huffs out. “I wanted to run away, but maybe I just wanted to see my mom come get me…for once.”

He wishes he could hug her, he wishes he could tell this young girl, this girl who reminds him so much of Alice some days that her mother loves her, that she is coming to save her.

“She’s coming Robin, you have to believe that.”

“Oh I know. I just wish it wouldn’t take so long. I used to get bully by this kid Jim last year, he would always try to cut my hair on the playground, so one day I had enough, one thing my mom taught me is that if you put up with crap, people will treat you like crap.” He narrows a glance at her.

“You use such terrible language for your age, did you know that?”

Robin rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue. “You are such a dad.” She says. “Anyway, I lured him up to the top of the castle and pushed the bloody git down the slide.” She says in triumph. “He didn’t mess with me again.”

“You are a very scary 6 year old.”

“I’m 7!”

“You are an equally scary 7 year old.”

“Can you stop interrupting? Well Mrs. Nolan saw me and well called my mom, she want crazy defending me, because she knows I wouldn’t push someone down the slide unless they deserved it, scared Jim’s parents, the principle and my teacher, it was great. When my mom gets here, Gothel will be afraid because my mom is a force to be reckon with.” Robin smiles proudly. “When my mom gets here, she’ll put the fear of God in all of them.”

He believes her.

Then one day, at the end of the third week into his stay. Robin comes bounding in with a bright look on her face.

“I have an idea! I cannot believe I didn’t think about this earlier!” She exclaims practically jumping from foot to foot. “The only way to fight magic is magic after all!”

He laughs at her antics. “Come on Robin spit it out.”

“What if I can magic the wall away?” She asks. It catches him by surprise.

“You have magic?”

He knew she did, knew that Eloise would have no interest in a girl with no magic, but he’d yet to hear her talk about it in the slightest.

She shrugs. “Kinda.” She reaches into her pocket to produce an apple. “I can make this do what I want.”

“Do what you want?” He repeats.

“I’m going to throw this over there.” She points at the staircase leading to freedom. “It’s going to bounce off a bunch of things and you’re going to catch it.” She says it with such certainty that when she does as she claims, it leaves him stunned. It was nothing like Alice’s brand of magic.

“My mom and Aunt think its magic, I’ve always been able to just make things work for me. They say my dad could do things like that too...” She shakes her head. “But it’s all I can really do? I’ve tried to do more but it mostly blows up in my face...” She says trailing off. “It’s like Luck magic. Gothel says everyone has a different brand of magic, Elsa has ice, Gretel has candy, she has nature…” Robin says trailing off.

He gives her a gentle smile, hoping she could get back on topic. “But I think if I practice enough maybe I can make the wall disappear!” She says happily. “Then we can escape!”

He nods. “Alright lass, give it a try.”

She does, she stands firm, hands outstretched, eyes closed. Killian watches with baited breathe, but after a few moments he realizes that nothing is happening.

Robin however doesn’t give up; her face is scrunched this time as she obviously is trying to concentrate harder.

“Lass?” he asks gently.

“It’ll work!”

After a few more moments, Robin sighs in defeats and plops down, folding her knees in her arms. “I just don’t understand. Gothel said she’d help me make it work, but she hasn’t helped me at all. Ever since she got me to this stupid place she’s been doing nothing and I hate it! I hate it hate it!” She started ranting. Killian presses against the bars, wanting to comfort the child but he can’t.

“I just want to go home!” She cries, tears welling up in her eyes, making the young girl look ever so young.

“Oh but you are home darling.”

He sees all the color drain from the girls face as she jolts away from the voice, closer to the bars.

A smirk is painted on Eloise’s face as the girl cowers.

“This-This isn’t my home!” Robin snaps once she’s got her words back. “I want to go home! I want my mom.” Eloise just chuckles.

“Now now, is he putting thoughts in your head Robin?” She chastises. “Perhaps it’s time we all sat down and talked about it.” She says ad flicks her wrist.

Killian stumbles as he lands, mind disoriented, just like the first time Alice did that trick.

They’re no longer in a dungeon, but in her living room at her table.

(He remembers drinking at that table, throwing that table, cooking food at that table that she’d shove down the garbage disposal without even tasting it. He remembers too many things in this place.)

It’s spread out with teacups filled with tea, biscuits and sweets along with milk and sugar. It appears to him that Eloise has prepared them an actual tea party.

Killian had no doubt it was a trick.

“Stay behind me Robin.” He instructed. Robin nods in agreement.

“I hate tea.” She mutters under her breathe.

“I won’t repeat myself.” Eloise says in a dangerous tone. “Sit down.”

He feels Robin shift from behind him. “But didn’t you just repeat yourself?”

He hides her from view knowing full well Eloise wouldn’t take too kindly for her sass.

“Alright we’ll play your games. But I promise you, you’re not laying a single hand on this child.”

She rolls her eyes as he complies. “Like you’ve ever been able to stop me before.” She muses as he does as asked, Robin sits across from Eloise as he takes the spot besides her.

“You can’t lay a hand on me.” He reminds her.

“I’m well aware that you are under protection.” Eloise says with an eye roll. “Perhaps I just want to treat you to something nice, is that so wrong? Doing something nice?”

He doesn’t trust that smirk for a single instant.

“Fine Eloise, do something nice, let Robin go home. She doesn’t want to be here.” He insists.

She shrugs. “Trust me, if you knew her mother, you’d think me mother of the year.” She snickers. That makes Robin perk up.

“Hey, you don’t get to talk about my mom like that!” She says, standing up. “She tries her best.”

He places a hand on Robin’s shoulder. “She’s trying to bait you.” He says, taking a sip of the tea.

“Let me go back to Alice, be a god damn mother for once in your life and want what’s best for her!”

“I am what’s best for her!” Eloise snaps, slamming her cup on the table. It makes Robin jump. “I am her mother, she belongs with me. Her power belongs to me.”

“And that’s why you’ll never get it.” He declares. “Because Alice is special, she is pure and selfless and nothing like you.”

“So she’s like you is she?” Eloise prods. “Prove it. Prove you deserve Alice, prove you’re better than me.”

He doesn’t like the sound of this.

“You and I are going to play a little game Killian, winner take all.”

Tagging: @hollyethecurious @therookshiningthrough @branlovestowrite @celestial-fire-writer @winterbaby89 @kmomof4

#let the stars remind you #gothel #Captain Swan #knightrook ff #knightrook fanfic

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theonceoverthinker · 5 years

Text

Slingshot (Fairy Queen BroTP Oneshot)

Summary: Sometimes, when people are pushed to their limits, they just need to blow off some steam. Apparently, that’s also true for fairies, as Regina learns. And as always, that lesson comes to her in the least likely of ways. AO3 link!

Word Count: 5K!

A/N: Hey! For my 300 follower spectacular, I was requested by @darkpoisonouslove to write a fic of Regina and Tink that took place after Robin and “Mairan’s” departure in “Heroes and Villains.” I’ve never written for Tink before so this was a fun challenge. And while this story has no business being as long as it is, I really enjoyed putting it together. I don’t know how to describe this other than it’s...an experience. Here’s hoping it’s a good one! (Bonus points if you get the reference there!)

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Snow White needs to learn that her advice isn’t as universal as she thinks it is.

Sure, a nature walk would sound nice to Snow. In addition to being the place where she fell in love, the woods were more or less her home for a few years -- granted, unfairly so, but not the point.

That said, Regina hasn’t had to live in the woods for more than a few weeks at a time during long trips and missions to either capture or, more recently, aid the Charmings and her son.

And in all that time, not a moment has gone by where she hasn’t hated those very woods that served as her temporary shelter. Regina’s felt no guilt at being ungrateful for the shading the forest has provided from the sunlight, nor the cover given from the rainfall. It’s still gross, dirty, and unpredictable as well as filled with bugs that seem almost magnetically attracted to her at any given moment.

So why then, if Regina despises the woods, is she out here?

Well, to put it simply, while Regina despised the woods, Robin loved them.

Today’s search for the author had been just as fruitless as all that had come before it. Regina reached her wits end after just a single read through of the book, calling it a day on their search and leaving to go home in a huff of frustration. Undoubtedly, Emma picked up on her foul mood and let her mother in on her observation.

Apparently tattling runs in the family.

Less than a half hour later, Regina received a phone call from Snow suggesting a nature walk as a means of cooling down and clearing her mind. And before Regina could ask her if the sleepless nights of new motherhood had made her go crazy, a sudden flow of memories halted her tongue.

Memories of Robin.

Robin was no stranger to the fact that Regina hated forests. She had certainly ranted to him enough times about the after effects of mother nature’s wrath on her clothes and hair over the course of their numerous journeys to confront her sister. Still, he often promised, with enough time, he’d make Regina love the woods as much as he did. The promise did little to counter Regina’s teasing vows that that would never come to pass, but some part of her had hoped that one day, he could help her at least appreciate them more.

It’s been tough without him, Regina can admit to herself. For someone who has lived in Storybrooke for such a small amount of time, Robin’s managed to imprint himself most everywhere in town. Even without his physical presence, she sees him standing by the counter at Granny’s, sitting on the floor next to her fireplace, and leaning against the table in her vault with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Not to mention, he’s all over her office too, the very place she spends the bulk of her time working as she tries to get back some piece of their happiness.

But he’s not in any of those places, Regina quickly reminds herself. He’s in another state with the mother of his child, and she can only hazard a guess as to how his life is going. Thoughts of whether or not she gave them enough money to get by, if they were able to navigate the city safely, and whether or not he has a job plague her nights and nights like the tides plague a beach.

And the rare occasions where she entertains the notion of Robin moving on from her have a tendency to singe the items that are unfortunate enough to be in her grasp in those moments.

How she’s managed to only somewhat lose it now after three weeks is a wonder to herself, and probably everyone else too.

And while the vagary of Robin’s life away from her is hard to accept, when she’s not constantly reminded about her quest to bring about her own happiness -- which hopefully would include him -- thinking about how he was here at all soothes her, strangely enough. It’s like a child remembering how a lost toy once soothed them. It’s not a full-on success, but it’s not a fruitless endeavor either.

So maybe taking a little nature walk -- taking a step away from her mission, getting out of her own head, and going someplace Robin always wanted her to go -- would be enough to soothe her in that same vein.

Regina’s willing to bet Snow -- the ever-doe eyed romantic that she is -- thought about that when she asked.

If she wasn’t right, Regina would’ve gagged at the saccharine notion.

But she was right, and so, with her rage momentarily subsided by the wistful recounts of love, Regina agreed to go on a walk -- though by her insistence as to avoid another one of Snow’s hope talks -- alone.

That said, it’s now been almost forty-five minutes since she started this walk, and the goodwill her memories created for the woods has long since disappeared. Now, all Regina can find herself able to take in are the broken bits of leaves embedded onto her peacoat and the faint smell of animal scat that follows her wherever she goes.

And while her thoughts of Robin were soothing at first, it only took about a half hour long before those questions that plagued her to rear their ugly heads once more. Currently, anxieties over Robin’s possible situations, resignation to the fact that he’ll need to move on from her, and depression over his absence all culminate in a simmering rage.

Two years ago, to settle such a rage, she’d have been content to mess with her rivals and thirty two years ago, she’d burn down their homes. But that’s not the course of action of a hero and furthermore, it’s now what Regina wants to do.

So now, instead of being calmed, she finds herself angrier than before, and at a further loss for what to do about it.

All in all, Regina’s pretty sure she’s had enough of mother nature for one day.

She makes a lazy circle as she turns around to go home. A step is taken in the direction of her car, and then another.

Right before she takes a third step, a loud sound goes off.

Regina freezes and analyzes the situation.

The sound is loud and messy -- definitely nothing that sounds like more than she can handle herself -- but Regina’s not quick to let her guard down all the same.

After all, if life in Storybrooke has prepared her for one thing, it’s to expect the unexpected.

She looks around, but encounters nothing.

“Hello?” she calls out to the seemingly barren forest. There’s this pinch of vulnerability in her voice that she despises, but is nonetheless existent. No one answers, but the sound goes off again moments later. This time, out of the corner of her left eye, she sees something shimmering in the distance rise and fall.

Regina slowly stalks towards the spot, her hands raised and ready to create a barrier should the need arise. When she’s almost there, just at the bottom of a small peak in the landscape mostly hidden by leaves and branches, the noise goes off again -- now even louder -- and the metallic object -- illuminated by its reflection of the sun -- raises once more. It lowers onto her side of the peak. This time, Regina picks up on something as what is now clearly a metal cylinder falls in front of her. It somehow confuses her even further.

That’s because the cylinder has, stretched across its center, a wrapper for creamed corn that she’s encountered at least once a month at the grocery store.

The can lands with little impact on the soil, but before Regina can examine it any further, she hears an exclamation.

“Damn it! That was my last one!”

The voice sounds familiar. There’s a touch of an accent and a pinch of softness to it, but its weathered too and if Regina’s right about who it is, she can understand why.

With a gloved hand, Regina picks up the thankfully clean can and strides forward. She pushes the branches that separate the two sides of the peak aside so she can pass through. What -- or rather, who -- meets her on the other side isn’t a shock, but still leaves Regina with more questions than answers.

There, on the other side of the peak, is Tinker Bell.

Tinker Bell -- or Tink, as Regina’s acclimated herself to saying -- stands behind a stump that separates the two of them. Just like with Regina’s peacoat, pieces of crunched leaves are scattered like polka dots around her messy grey sweater and skinny jeans. However, Tink seems more comfortable with her mess than Regina is with her own. Across her face, Tink’s brows are furrowed, but Regina can tell that it’s not because of her presence here -- or at least not fully.

“Regina,” she says. “What brings you here?” Her words hold no harshness, but there’s a healthy amount of curiosity there.

“Just taking a walk to clear my head,” Regina answers. She can’t keep the air of lamentation, the lamentation that all but announces her failure to do just that, at bay as she speaks.

And of course, Tink takes all of two seconds to pick up on that.

“So you came here of all places?”

Needless to say, that’s now what Regina expects to hear her say.

Regina places her hands on her hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What it means is that your belly aching about camping out in the jungle back in Neverland still haunts my nightmares. So what I’m wondering is what got you to come here?”

Regina finds herself flustered and at a loss for a good rebuttal to Tink’s point. She doesn’t want to get into things, not even knowing where to begin to explain herself.

So instead, she deflects.

“Well, what are you doing here?”

Suddenly, Regina remembers the weight in her left hand. It doesn’t take long before she puts two and two together.

“This yours?” she asks, holding out the can.

Tink’s face instantly lightens upon seeing it.

“Yes! Thanks for finding it.”

Tink comes up to Regina and takes the can out of her quite willing hand. For a moment, as if to further perplex Regina, she studies the can with a satisfied look on her face. Then, quite casually, she walks back to the stump and positions the can squarely onto its center. She then walks toward another stump right across the clearing. Regina follows her with naught but her eyes, trying to figure out just what Tink is up to. When Tink finally arrives at the second stump, Regina at last notices something.

Atop that stump sits close to a dozen rocks as well as a slingshot.

Regina walks over to Tink with something that’s not quite a smirk nor admonishment -- yet not at all free from judgment -- on her face.

“What are you doing?”

Tink shrugs, her eyes remaining on the can across from her. “Hitting cans with a slingshot.” Regina sees Tink look at her through the corner of her eye. “What?” she groans.

“Okay. Now why are you catapulting rocks at tin cans? I mean, I guess it’s one way to recycle, but I imagine there’d be less...primitive ways for a fairy to enjoy herself.”

An eye roll rewards Regina for her question. “There are, but here’s something they don’t tell you about being a fairy in Storybrooke: They’re basically nuns and there’s a lot of things nuns can’t do. And if you don’t want anything getting back to Blue, you’re left with even less.” Regina’s still bewildered by the choice of hobbies and she must not hide it well, for Tink feels the need to go on. “Look,” she says in a huff, “some Lost Boys taught me how to do it back in Neverland and i just keep up with it.”

Regina quirks her brow. “I imagine you learned a lot of things in Neverland, but I’m pretty sure you haven’t built your own fire or hunted for your dinner since you got to Storybrooke. So why are you still doing this of all things?”

“I like it.” Tink returns her attention to her slingshot and the can across the way, as if that answer cleared everything up.

“You...like it?” She’s tempted to scoff at the sheer simplicity of the statement and just barely stifles the urge.

“Yeah. Not all of it,” Tink goes on to explain. “It’s annoying to find a spot where you can comfortably get your finger around the band while balancing the rock, but when you do, it’s nice, and if your aim ‘isn’t bad, there’s nothing sweeter than when the rock hits the target.” Tink take a deep breath. “Besides,” she mutters darkly, “I’m not really looking for strictly enjoyment right now, per se. I’m looking to let off some steam.”

“Something going on with you and Blue?” Regina guesses. The way Tink’s face scrunches up lets Regina know that her assessment is correct.

“I don’t know how, but those past few decades somehow made her even more bossy than when I lost my wings. I mean, I finally get my hands on some magic again and Blue won’t even let me play around with it unless there’s some kind of witch threatening the town. I swear, that book of rules of hers must be taller than it is wide because if it were any further up her ass, we’d get to climb it and see Anton’s home. And if she keeps calling me Green again, I swear I’ll take that book and-” Tink stops herself, takes another deep breath, and crouches down until she’s in a squatting position. From the looks of it, she’s nearly parallel with the can on the other side of the clearing. Neither she nor Regina speak as she takes aim and then fires.

A clank which Regina is sure is pleasing to Tink’s ears sounds off as the rock hits the side of the can. The can twirls a few times, edging closer and closer onto the edge of the stump before finally falling off.

“Not my best, but not bad either,” Tink says, a fair amount of satisfaction in her voice and a grin across her features.

Regina’s less amused, though far from venomous. It’s closer to watching Henry groan after eating his ice cream too fast and getting a brain freeze after she warned him not to.

“So what? You pretend that can is Blue?”

Tink shrugs again. “It’s better than doing it to the real one, don’t you think?”

“Depends on the day,” Regina retorts.

That gets a hearty laugh and one of the biggest smiles Regina’s ever seen out of Tink.

“You’re not wrong, but still I’d rather not end up in jail for chucking a fireball at her. So this is handy as a substitute. Got me through Neverland basically and it helps me deal with Blue these days when she’s more annoying than usual.” She studies Regina’s face -- much to Regina’s disdain -- before she gets up to go find her can again. “Looks like you could some of that yourself. Want a try?” She holds the slingshot and a rock up to Regina.

Regina quirks her brow once more. She doesn’t fight the chuckle that penetrates her voice as she answers the ludicrous prospect. “You want me to use a slingshot on a tin can? Do I look like a hobo?”

It’s now apparently Tink’s turn to be confused. “What’s a hobo?”

“Never mind,” Regina dismisses, rolling her eyes. She wonders if this is how Emma feels when Hook asks her about some reference or device from the modern world. She then goes further to project some of her memories to Robin over the same and instantly regrets that decision. “But anyway, I’m not firing off a slingshot.”

“Come on,” Tink encourages. “It’ll do you some good.”

“I don’t think so, but have fun.” Regina makes to turn away and even starts to navigate the path Tink used to get as deep into these accursed woods as they had when Tink speaks once more.

“You need to let some of that anger out Regina. Everyone know Robin’s absence is killing you.”

Regina stops in her tracks. Instantly, that anger comes boiling back like a thermometer in relation to a fever. Her fists ball and the temptation to to blow up is almost too enticing to ignore.

But much to her relief, that’s exactly what she does.

She takes a deep breath as to not snap at Tink -- God knows it’s a miracle their friendship, if she can even call it that, isn’t already in shambles and she’d rather it not become so -- and then turns around to meet a now standing Tink.

“What do you want me to say?” Her voice is harsh -- not close to breaking, but not exactly far from it either.

To her surprise, the pointed expression on Tink’s face isn’t phased in the slightest.

“Nothing,” she says in a matter-of-fact fashion.

“What?” Regina can almost feel a laugh born of exasperation born her confusion.

Still, Tink’s resolve doesn’t waver.

“I know the crowd you hang around. You’ve talked plenty to them. The Charmings -- they’re nice, don’t get me wrong -- but you don’t need to talk about your problems. Not right now, at least. You’ve no doubt said all you can say and I don’t have anything to offer or frankly the patience to listen. So I don’t think you need to talk or even clear your head. No, you need to let off some steam.”

After weeks upon weeks of hope speeches, hearing something aside from one is refreshing. Regina’s impressed -- to a point.

But all the same, she’s pretty sure that that point doesn’t necessitate the tool that Tink still holds.

“And you think this slingshot will do it?”

“You never know until you try,” Tink says, shrugging. “Look, I know you don’t want to use a fireball or dark magic or anything and lose all that progress you’ve been making. I get that. But there’s no reason you can’t cut loose in a way that doesn’t hurt anyone.”

Regina aims for a retort, but finds that she can’t quite muster one up. To tell the truth, she’s intrigued.

So against her better judgment, she goes to Tink and takes the slingshot.

Tink grins -- a chipper and satisfied grin -- right before repositioning the can once more.

After a brief, but purposely drawn out sigh, Regina stands by the stump where Tink shot off last time, waiting for instructions.

When Tink returns, she takes a finger and lowers it.

“You’ve got to crouch,” Tink informs.

An instinctual groan leaves Regina’s throat -- not that she would instruct it any other way. Tink lightly pushes her hand downward against Regina shoulder and Regina follows its flow. Her knees land semi-comfortably against the dirty ground. She’s grateful that she has gloves on when Tink prompts her to pick up the slingshot. It doesn’t look dirty, but old and just a little big gnarled -- no doubt a product of time. All the same, she doesn’t want to touch it directly -- nor indirectly for that matter.

“It won’t bite.” Regina side eyes Tink, but does reluctantly pick the slingshot up. She can feel the cracks and wears in the wood through her glove and feel the groove in it from Tinks uses that thankfully fits her own hand rather nicely. As soon as Regina’s hand is settled into the slingshot, she grabs a rock from the top of the stump with her other hand and tries to position it into the slingshot. She tries to balance it between the space in the slingshot and the tip of her thumb, but the rock falls out.

And then she tries again.

And again.

Each time she tries, she gets the same result.

“This is ridiculous.” Regina starts to get up, but Tink once more takes hold of her shoulder.

“Try again. I’ll help this time.”

“Why didn’t you help before?” Regina barks.

Tink gives her a pointed look. “You need to use one of your mirrors to see that sneer of yours some time. Trust me: you wouldn’t dare offer help to yourself either.”

Regina gives her a sneer, this time well aware of its effect. Still, she compiles and crouches down behind the stump once again. Tink crouches down alongside her and shifts her fingers so that the rock stay in place this time.

“Now aim it a little under the can. It’ll make a bit of an arch so you lowering your aim will help you hit it,” Tink says. Regina takes a moment to align her shot accordingly with what Tink says, and when she’s ready, both she and Tink seem to know it.

“Finally, try to project the object of your rage onto the can. This whole thing’s emotional, kind of like magic.”

Hardly a second passes before Regina’s got it. She feels a fire glow in her eyes and the understanding gleam in Tink’s from the back of her head.

“Now fire.”

And she does. The rock hurdles through the clearing, practically in slow motion as it rolls around the sky. Regina feels the air go thin as she watches in anticipation of her shot.

Regina’s heard the sound of a perfect hit before, and while she found it crude at first, somehow, when she’s the source of it, the noise that it creates is oddly rewarding. The can, flipping twice in the process, flies over the peak of the clearing, just as it did when she first found it. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t just a little impressive.

“Nice shot!” Tink cheers.

For a moment, Regina lets her guard slip as she beams with pride at her accomplishment. She senses the tension that’s formed over her like a dark cloud dissipate from her very being.

“Felt good, didn’t it?” She turns to look at Tink. Much to her expectations, Tink’s smirking.

“It was alright,” she attempts to dismiss, though her smile can’t seem to fully fade.

That’s because it was so much more than simply alright.

It’s takes a few moments for the shiver of endorphins that flows like a wave across her body and floods her with relief to settle down.

Tink shrugs, seemingly willing to play along. “Still, you have to agree: it did let off some steam. You look more relaxed than when you found me.” She then makes for the fallen rock and urges Regina to follow along. “Now come on! Help me get the can so we can go again.”

Regina, not ready to willingly admit that she’s wrong just yet, wants to say that there won’t nor will there ever be an “again,” but her body moves faster than her mind and before she knows it, she’s off to pick up where she remembers seeing the can propel towards.

And as she looks, the memory of her rock hitting the can of corn loops itself in her thoughts and a certain exhilaration swells within her heart as it continues to do so. By the time she’s found the can and meets Tink back at the point between the two stumps, the protest of further humoring this childish game feels a lot weaker.

Regina’s too proud to admit it outright, but when Tink waves the slingshot in her hand like a dog treat over Pongo’s head, she grants herself a little leeway.

“Well, I guess I can humor you a bit longer.”

Tink shoots her a knowing smirk, but leaves the mocking at that as she readies their game for round two.

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“So,” Tink starts. “When you were aiming the slingshot, who were you thinking about?”

“What do you mean?” Regina looks over at Tink. The glow of the sun radiates splatters of orange through the cloak of the trees over she and Regina as they make their way out of the woods. Tink’s words interrupt Regina’s search for her car and it takes her a moment to process them.

When she does though, a familiar emotion befalls her: confusion.

Tink answers that confusion with a smile. “Well, as I was saying earlier, when you’re playing the game, it helps to project someone onto the can. I used Blue, so I want to know what you let yours off about.”

A chuckle escapes from Regina’s lips, this time much more amused than when they first met up.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk,” she quips.

“I said you didn’t need to talk,” Tink elaborates, emphasizing the word ‘need’ through a combination of inflections and a pointed finger. “And that you didn’t want to listen,” Regina argues.

Tink retains her smile as she shrugs. “Yeah well, that was then and this is now. And I’m not looking for a talk -- I’m just curious. It obviously wasn’t Robin and given all you did for Marian while she was frozen, I don’t think you were aiming it at her either. And you and Emma seem to be getting along better, so it’s probably not her even. So who was it?”

Regina contemplates what Tink says, recounting those few moments when the world surrounding her disappeared and it was just herself, her slingshot, and the can.

“Fate,” she finally decides on. The word, despite how vague it always feels on her lips, has a certain crispness to it as it comes out this time.

“Fate?”

“Yeah.” Regina shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you. I looked at that can and just imagined this deep dark purple vortex, and it just felt like my fate staring at me -- unavoidable, dark, and determined to keep me miserable for the rest of my life.”

Tink, seemingly satisfied with that answer, smirks. “Then I’d say this worked out better than I could’ve imagined.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because you just took a slingshot to fate and knocked it off its socks.” Tink’s smirk grows and, further illuminated by the darkening sun, transforms into something that Regina likely would’ve called wicked had her sister not tarnished the term.

“Elegant way of putting it,” Regina snarks.

“But not wrong, I’m guessing.”

Regina gives her that.

“Fate’s dumb,” Tink continues, settling her expression as her gaze points towards the expanse of trees. “It’s a zero sum game.”

“Well, how do you win it?” It’s a question Regina’s long since asked herself. It makes sense that the same person who just helped to quell her anger issues might know this secret too.

“See, that’s the tricky part. There’s no direct approach to winning it.”

“Of course there’s not,” Regina laments.

“Think about it. If you ignore it, you can’t prepare for it and its consequences. Just look at you and Robin.” Regina lets loose a stressed grunt, one Tink shoots a sympathetic look to her. “If you embrace it, half the time, you end up suffering too. Just look at what happened to me.”

“You got your wings back.”

“But only after losing them in the first place and spending over thirty years in Neverland,” Tink reminds.

Regina nods. “Touche. So what do you suggest?”

“Live for those you love, spoil yourself when you can, and always have a slingshot ready to let off some steam.” Regina chuckles, but she’s not exactly satisfied with that conclusion and she knows as she does that Tink’s already figured that out. Before she can relent on how easy to read she’s become, Tink starts to speak again. “Regina, you’re a fighter. Even when I met you, you fought for what you wanted.”

“Even if it was wrong?”

“And it was,” Tink points out, not at all light on the emphasis, “but yes. You wanted to be Rumple’s student and get revenge, so you chased after that. Fortunately, you failed. And now, you want to be happy -- thankfully for the right reasons this time -- and you have that same determination and some friends to help you out. So yeah, you’re gonna win.”

Regina pauses her steps and when Tink realizes that Regina’s a bit behind her, she turns around.

“Did this seriously turn into another talk?” Regina reflects. There’s a mix of exasperation and hilarity in her voice and thankfully, it’s overwhelmingly the latter.

Tink shrugs. “It’s Storybrooke. If there’s one thing that’s inevitable, it’s that everything always leads to a talk.” Tink raises at her slingshot. “B-u-ut,” she says slyly, “we can always fight against that too, if you’re ever interested.”

“Well,” Regina teases, her grin unashamedly present for her friend -- something she feels no apprehension calling Tink. “I guess I can make the time in my schedule.”

Tink grins and claps Regina’s shoulder. “Look at you,” she nudges. “Guess someone’s finally coming around to the woods after all.”

Regina hums on that. Tink seems to believe that it’s because they’ve finally run into her car and Regina doesn’t correct her.

But it’s not the case -- or not fully, anyway.

Just as Tink said, her appreciation of the woods and her means of controlling her rage came, but just as it always was, it came in a way that was most unexpected.

Fate seems to have struck once again.

And just as Tink said, with her determination, her friends, and now a slingshot, she’ll keep on living to see what it has in store for her next.

#regina #regina mills #ouat #once upon a time #tinker bell #fairy queen #outlaw queen #my fanfiction #robin hood #tink

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cinnonym · 5 years

Text

All of you:

Me: Oh, sure you can have that SQ fic from Robin Hood's POV, absolutely no problem, here you go:

The sheets are impossibly soft as I shuffle against them, soft and silky and way too comfortable for me to find sleep in. Years of making camp on mossy patches in the forest, never completely bare of sticks that press against the back at night, have accustomed my body to rough, imperfect underground and even the few nights I've actually spent in taverns or inns couldn't have prepared me for the luxury of this world. Thick bouncy mattresses and materials called polyester or elastane are as foreign to me as the twangy accent the people from the first curse have. Even Regina has picked it up, the tendency to pronounce the Rs like nobody did back in the Enchanted Forest, sharp and rolling, like stones scraping.

I groan as I turn to my side, a sudden pain shooting through my spine. The caving bed is poison for my back, but Regina loves it like that, enormous and fluffy for her to sink in. Her body is but a silhouette in the dark, the moon shining just bright enough through the shades for my eyes to make out the curve of her hip, pronounced even through the thick blanket. Regina is facing away from me, curled into herself like usual, breathing heavily and unevenly. Her hair is splayed over her pillow, gleaming black against the white and if I leaned over I would see her eyelashes painting a similar shadow against her cheek. She really is magnificent, even in her brokenness, and I have to remind myself again that she's not mine to fix.

As if she heard my thoughts, Regina starts murmuring. She's doing that a lot these days, almost every night, at first quietly, making it impossible to understand her words, than growing louder and louder still until she's screaming. It's always the same routine, and it's always the same couple of sentences: "No! There has to be another way." Sobs. And then "I love you."

It has taken me a while to figure out the meaning of it all. At first I was flattered, thought she meant me, thought this was her way of telling me what she couldn't say at day. At first I thought the eerie déjà vu I got from the phrasing, the feeling to have heard Regina say those exact words before, came from unconsciously listening to her while sleeping myself. Until Emma crossed my way through town, smiling wearily in the arms of her boyfriend, a faint shadow of the vibrant person I had met when I first came here. Now rings have formed under her eyes, almost identical to those Regina has after a particularly hag-ridden night.

Almost a year has passed since the blonde became the Dark One, since she more or less jumped into the black vortex that enclosed Regina and thrust the dagger forward, tethering her soul to it forever. Except forever apparently doesn't apply to saviours because barely two months later Emma got rid of the darkness already and, except for the incident in the realm we call Underbrooke, has lived fairly normally since. Most people have already forgotten about the time of Dark Swan, even I find it hard to remember that particular period sometimes. Hell, even Emma has seemingly forgotten most of it, though Regina claims she's still dealing with the aftereffects of wielding that huge amount of power and fighting not to succumb to it.

And there lies the problem really. Regina is the one still thinking, still worrying about the darkness affecting Emma. Regina is the one still dreaming of the night Emma sacrificed herself and Regina is the one still regretting not to have acted, not to have told Emma what she now cries out almost every night.

"I love you," Regina sobs next to me and some weeks ago my heart would have clenched. I was furious, sad, confused, most of all shocked. Soulmates are said to be an insurance of kinds, your true love, presented to you in a flourish, nicely wrapped in tattoos and pixie dust. They're not supposed to be in love with someone else, they're supposed to be your perfect match.

One week and four nightmares after my realisation, I had enough. When she started murmuring again, I seized her shoulders, shook her awake in tears, demanding answers.

"What are you even talking about," she mumbled, still half-asleep, and she was confused herself about the wetness on her cheeks and pillow. I stopped asking her after that, it was clear she knew less about what was going on than me.

And still the dreams continued, startling me awake when I managed to find sleep for once, until my body learned to stay awake during the hours when they usually occur. I tried to comfort Regina, but she slapped my arm away, thrashing around until I retreated into my half of the bed, at which point she curled back into herself and returned to sobbing. I tried to talk to her about what she saw at night in the mornings, only to find that though she awakes grouchy and tired she's entirely oblivious to the reason for it. There was nothing I could do for her, except hoping she would get better soon.

She didn't and so, for her own good, I have to let her go.

Everything is planned. I met Emma the other day, asked her in Regina's name to stay over at the mansion, told Regina that Emma asked for a sleepover. Only by making each believe it was the other's wish, I could convince them both to agree, and now Emma is sleeping in the guest's room across the corridor.

I fold back the heavy covers and tiptoe to the door. Regina's still crying behind me and for a moment I feel a pang of guilt for leaving her like this. But then the "I love you"s begin again and I know that for her and also my own sanity I have to go.

So I slip out of the door, leaving it slightly ajar, and make my way to Emma's door. I've already lifted my hand to knock, when it swings open and there's Emma, hair tangled and clearly just awoken, nonetheless staring at me with the urgent look she only gets when either Henry or Regina are in danger. Henry or Regina and oh, I should have understood it way earlier, but I've been blinded by pixie dust and a fairy's promise.

"Is that Regina crying? What are you doing here? Does she need help?"

For someone who threatened to hurt anyone who dared to wake her up before nine in the morning, Emma seems very harmless in her spate of questions. However, the force with which she pushes me away is to be reckoned with and it confirms me in my belief that I'm doing the right thing by stepping aside and playing the helpless boyfriend.

"I don't know what's happening. She started crying and screaming, but she won't wake up, do you know what to do?"

Just as I anticipated, Emma all but runs through the door, not even hesitating at the threshold as she would normally, wary to set foot in private chambers. But not now, not when Regina needs her help, and she kneels beside the bed and takes Regina's trembling hand, whispering soothingly words I can't make out. Miraculously, Regina calms, sobbing quieter until finally, she stills.

"Emma?" She suddenly murmurs, half-asleep yet but quickly coming to. I didn't expect this but it fits quite well with my plans, exceeds my hopes to be at least stooge for my soulmate's happy ending.

"I'm here, Regina," Emma whispers back, softer than I've ever heard her talk, and she strokes Regina's sweaty brow and caresses her cheeks. I can only see her profile but the devotion in her eyes is clear as day and it is time for me to leave.

Silently, using all my skills as a thief to not disturb the two women, I turn around and head towards the stairs. Except I'm stopped before I can reach them, by a pale hand and Henry's tousled shock of hair.

"I heard Mom scream," he says under his breath, the same urgency in his voice as in Emma's before. "Is she alright?"

"She will be," I reply, "Emma is with her."

Henry calms, then looks at me with eyes far too wise for a boy of his age and nods solemnly.

"Robin Hood, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. You were never one to keep treasures for yourself."

I shrug, refusing to look back to the door that's still slightly ajar, and smile wistfully.

"You know she was never mine to begin with."

"See ya around Robin," Henry says after a pause and we both know this is goodbye. I will come back to the mansion, but if everything goes according to plan, it will never be the same again. I hope that Regina and I can be friends, were still soulmates after all, but I also feel that my heart will need time to heal before I can see her with Emma.

"Bye Henry. I'll send Little John to pick up Roland tomorrow morning."

Henry looks back at the smaller boy, allowed to sleep on a folding bed next to Henry's. He lies with a blissful smile on his face and I feel the familiar tug of guilt about forcing him to grow accustomed to yet another difficult family situation.

"He'll be fine," Henry whispers and I finally turn and descend the stairs. The front door is locked and I use my lockpicks to make sure it is again after I let myself out. Storybrooke's streets are deserted as I slowly make my way home to the woods.

The next day I get a message from Henry, the phone Regina talked me into pinging obnoxiously loud in the peaceful silence of the trees. I flip it open and the screen comes alive with the photo the boy sent me. It shows Regina's bed and on it two women, one blonde and one brunette, curled into each other. It's hard to make out in the pixels but it looks like both are smiling. Underneath, Henry just wrote two words:

"Thank you."

#ouat #once upon a time #swanqueen #my writing #fanfiction #robin hood

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justanoutlawfic · 5 years

Text

Crash: Chapt. 2 [5 Years Later]

Story Summary: Regina Mills is finally allowing herself to be happy after 5 years of sobriety. When she finds love for the first time since her divorce, she's over the moon...until her past comes back to haunt her.

Chapter Summary: 5 years sober and with her ex moving on, Regina decides to make a change.

Also on AO3

5 years sober.

As Regina held the chip in her hand, it felt heavy. The first year had been hell, the second had been a breeze but she had nearly slipped up in the third. The following two had been what she would consider her new normal. She went to work every day, had her son for most of the month and when she went out with friends, she was the one that said to the waiter “I’ll stick with water, thanks.”

She had graduated from therapy and only went if she felt like there was something she needed to talk about, but A.A meetings were still a weekly occurrence. She no longer just had a sponsor, but was one herself. Regina was so proud of Killian Jones. He had kicked the habit and had been able to get his daughter back from the system.

“To sobriety,” Killian said, lifting his water glass.

Regina smiled. “To sobriety.” She clinked hers with his. “One year. How does it feel?”

“Pretty damn good. The social worker will only be checking up on me for 6 more months.”

“I get how that is. Just remember, it’s not just for Alice. It’s for you too.”

“I know.” Killian smiled. “I appreciate you doing all of this for me, Regina. I know you’re busy.”

“When I started A.A, Mal was by my side day and night. Of course I’m going to do the same for you.”

Killian had started drinking heavily after the death of a very close friend of his. He had a number of drunken one night stands that gave him Alice. He tried to clean up his act for her, but when she nearly drowned because he had spent the night drinking, she had been removed from his care. When Killian entered A.A, it had been court ordered but a year later, he knew it was for the best. He reminded Regina a lot of herself. Killian now had a job again, along with a place to live. Alice was more than happy to be reunited with her papa. She was so young, she’d most likely never remember the year they were forced to spend apart.

“I’m having a BBQ this weekend, to celebrate,” he said. “I’m inviting some people from A.A, along with some of my old friends-the good ones. You should bring Henry.”

“I’d love to. Daniel’s dropping him off tonight, so we’ll be all set. I’m sure he’ll love to see Alice.”

“Still begging you for a baby sister of his own?”

Regina gently rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I’m leaving that to his dad for the moment.”

After their lunch, Regina headed back home. She had sold the mansion she once shared with Daniel on Mifflin Street, it just didn’t feel the same anymore. Now she resided in a cozy three bedroom, with a nice backyard for Henry and garden for her. She had planted an apple tree her first night of A.A and she loved watching it grow along side of her. According to the books, she still had another year before it’d bear any fruit, but she was patient.

A few hours later, the doorbell rang and Regina found Daniel and Henry on the other side. Her son had grown up so quickly, already standing tall at 11-years-old. He threw his arms around her and she squeezed him back just as tight.

“Hey honey.” Regina kissed the top of his head. “How was your week with your dad?”

“Awesome. We went to so many museums and Dad got me a ton of new books.”

“Did you read all of them in one sitting?”

“I still had a few left.”

Regina laughed. “Say goodbye and then wash up for dinner.”

Henry quickly hugged his father. “Bye Dad. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Daniel nodded, kissing his cheek. “Alright, bud. Be good for your mom.”

Henry dashed into the kitchen, leaving the two exes lingering in the doorway. 5 years ago, there would’ve been a lot of awkward tension, but Regina found it easy to smile around Daniel again. He had been true to his word. The morning after her accident, he had packed up then 6-year-old Henry and moved in with his mother. The divorce papers came a few months later and Daniel got full custody for the first year and a half, while Regina agreed that every other weekend visits would work best while she fought for her sobriety. Two years in, Daniel had agreed to 50/50 custody and things had worked out well. Not long after that, however, he got a job in Boston that would mean more money and better opportunity. After much discussion, it was decided that Henry would stay with his mother and have bi-weekend visitation with his father, switching holidays around. It had been a hard adjustment for all of them, but now it was second nature.

Regina would be lying if she said she didn’t miss Daniel. She had thought that maybe if she showed she was getting sober that he’d stop the divorce, but the truth was, their marriage had been over long before the accident. After the first terrible incident, they had both pushed each other away. They’d always love each other, they’d always be each other’s firsts, but they simply weren’t meant to be. A part of recovery was acceptance and they had both reached that over the years.

“So, I can meet you halfway next time?” Regina offered.

“Actually, I’ll be coming into town on Thursday to visit with my mom, so that’s not necessary.” He hesitated off Regina’s nod. “And I’ll um, I’ll be bringing Ariel with me.”

“Ariel?”

“We’ve been seeing each other for a while. I think it’s time for her to meet Henry.”

“Oh.”

“Regina…”

“No, Daniel, it’s only right. It’s been 5 years. I’m honestly surprised this is the first girl you’ve seriously dated since me.”

“Well, you’re a tough act to follow.”

Regina softly smiled. “Back at you.”

“Maybe it’s time you start seeing someone too. That guy you’ve been sponsoring?”

Regina couldn’t help but laugh. “Killian? Yeah, no. But…you may be right about moving on.”

“You deserve to be happy. No matter what happened, you know that now, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Tell me what time you want me to meet up with you and Ariel next weekend, okay? Have a safe trip back.”

She shut the door once he walked off to his car and leaned against it, reflecting on his words. It had taken her a long time to accept what she had done. She hadn’t allowed herself to be happy for a long time, but maybe it was time. Regina had done her best to make up for her past, now it was time to do something for herself.

Robin stood back, watching Roland run around with the other kids. He hadn’t spent too much time at Killian’s house in the past year, but it was comforting to be back there. A part of him would always feel guilty for not spotting the problems that Killian was facing, but his friend had assured him that it wasn’t his fault. Between grieving Marian’s death and becoming a sudden single father to a then 2-year-old, it didn’t allow him to see much else outside his son. He always knew that Killian enjoyed drinking, but he hadn’t seen the big problem until Alice had been taken away by social services. He wished there had been more he could do for his friend, but in the end, all he could do was be supportive through his recovery.

Now, things were better, for all of them. It had been 5 years since the accident and Robin had found his new normal. He was able to fall asleep at night, whether it be on his side of the bed or the one that Marian once slept on. He could say her name and not break down into tears. Robin could actually look into his son’s eyes and not want to sob because all he saw was Marian. He’d never forget her, but life had gotten easier. As his therapist had told him, that was what moving on was all about.

A lot of their friends hadn’t stuck by Killian’s side after he had Alice taken away, so Robin found himself not knowing a lot of people at the BBQ. Most of them he figured were from his A.A meetings and there were a few neighbors there as well. He wasn’t used to being the odd man out and he knew he should socialize, but it was easier to just lean back sometimes.

“Robin!” He looked up and saw Killian standing by the grill. “I’ve got to change Alice real quick, can you watch the burgers?”

“Of course.”

Robin headed over and took his spot, spatula in hand. He watched the meat, flipping it every so often, watching it slowly turn from pink to brown.

“Man, you trying to kill the cow all together?”

He found himself eye to eye with a petite woman. She had raven black hair and deep brown eyes. She was wearing a gray dress with white polka dots, with a pair of bright red flats which added some color the ensemble. She had one eyebrow raised in almost mock teasing.

“I’d just rather not eat beef tartar,” he shot back.

She rolled her eyes. “There’s a difference between raw and ruining a perfectly good hamburger.”

“You think you can do much better?”

“I happen to know I can. My dad owned a restaurant, I spent a lot of time in kitchens when I was younger.”

“Then you know people have different tastes.”

“Stupid tastes.”

Robin couldn’t help but chuckle. “You often pick fight with strangers?”

“Only when they ruin perfectly good slabs of meat.”

Even when the laughter stopped, a smile remained on his lips. “I’m Robin.” He held out his free hand.

The woman shook it, her own lips tugging upwards into a grin. “Regina. Killian’s sponsor.”

“Oh, you’re the one he’s always talking about.”

“Always?”

“You helped save his life.”

“I just helped him work the program.” Regina waved him off. “He mentioned you quite a bit, though.”

“Oh?”

“In A.A we talk about two groups of friends: friends to avoid if you should stay sober and ones to surround yourself with to do the same. The ironic part is, a lot of the latter are ones you probably chased off with your drinking.”

“Well, I would never imagine walking away from Killian. He went through a hard time, we all did.”

“You were friends with Marian too?”

“A bit more than that. She was my wife.”

Robin watched the smile drain from her face and a familiar look took its place. Whether it were people he knew before the crash or those that he met after. All of them got that same look, the one any widow could place. Big frown, creased forehead. He waited for the words that almost always followed, but they didn’t come.

“I can’t imagine.”

Robin nodded, a bit shocked and happy that an apology hadn’t followed. “I was so wrapped up in myself for a long time, I didn’t see what Killian was going through.”

“You can’t blame yourself. My ex-husband witnessed it but there wasn’t much he could do. It’s up to the person to get sober.”

Robin found his smile coming back and it seemed to make Regina’s appear again as well. They stood there for a moment, until the screen door slammed behind them. Nearly both jumped and found Killian standing there with his daughter on his hip. He smiled, looking between the two of them.

“Oh, you two met.”

“We did.” Regina wiped her palms on her dress. “Your friend here ruins burgers.’

Robin rolled his eyes. “Yours clearly wants to die of mad cow disease.”

Killian shook his head. “I should’ve known. I’ll take over here.”

Robin and Regina walked over to the drinks table. He watched as Roland chased around an older boy and he nearly went to stop him, but he noticed the kid didn’t seem to mind. He showed Roland how his NERF gun worked and let him have a few shots with it.

“Henry always wanted a little sibling,” Regina mused.

“Oh, he’s yours?”

She nodded. “Yup. I’m assuming the little one belongs to you?”

“Roland.”

“He’s adorable, has your dimples.”

Robin smiled, unintentionally showing them off. “Thank you.”

“You know, if the boys are playing so well…maybe they’d like to have a playdate.”

“A playdate? You think your pre-teen would have one with my 7-year-old?”

“He’d love it. And we can have a playdate of our own.” She made a face. “Not in a dirty way, but ya know…”

Robin shook his head, the smile not leaving his face. “I’ll bring the snacks.”

#crash verse #outlaw queen #oq #outlaw queen au #oq au

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