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spartanguard · 7 days

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when Emma falls in love [from the vault]

Summary: When Emma falls in love, I know that boy will never be the same | When she came to Storybrooke, finding love was the farthest thing from Emma's mind. Until she started to get to know Ian, the bartender down at the Rabbit Hole. A crush is the last thing she needs—not when she's in the middle of a murder investigation and her son keeps talking about curses. Or maybe it's exactly what both of them need. [Inspired by "When Emma Falls In Love" by Taylor Swift] A/N: This is the next in my series of fics inspired by Taylor Swift's vault tracks (mostly from Speak Now (Taylor's Version), but there will be more!). Wanted to post this before we all died from TTPD tomorrow ;) I think this is also my favorite of the ones I've written so far; hope you like it, too! And, as always, thank you to @optomisticgirl for being the best beta ever. rated T | 6.2k words | AO3

When the door swung open, Emma was half expecting it to be someone from downstairs yelling at her to stop her pacing; too many years living in crappy apartments had done that to her. But it was just Mary Margaret, coming home from work.

That said— “Uh, you okay? If you pace any harder, you’re gonna wear a hole in the floor,” her roommate remarked.

“Ugh, sorry,” Emma answered, taking a seat at one of the barstools at the counter. “It was that or attacking the toaster again.”

“You didn’t get fired again, did you?” Mary Margaret asked as she set a bag of groceries on the counter. “‘Cause last I checked, you were your own boss.”

Emma scoffed. “No; just…other stuff.” She swallowed. “Boy stuff?” (She wasn’t sure why she said it like it was a question, other than the fact that she’d never been one to talk about relationships or anything—never had anyone she could talk to about that, so she wasn’t sure if this was the right way to start.)

“Well, that’s convenient,” Mary Margaret said, and reached into the paper sack. “I bought wine,” she finished, pulling out a cheap screw-top bottle of rosé.

“Might need more than that.”

“Good thing I got two,” she answered, producing another.

They curled up at opposite ends of the couch, not even bothering with wine glasses. After a few (hefty) sips, Mary Margaret looked at her pointedly and Emma was suddenly very aware of why her students respected her so much. “Okay. Spill.”

Emma sighed, but obliged. “Okay, you know the bartender down at the Rabbit Hole?”

“Not well, but I know who he is. Ian, right?”

“Yeah, Ian Johnson. He, uh…I mean, I…” She hummed. “I think I like him.”

“Oh my god, you sound like one of my fifth graders,” Mary Margaret replied. “You’re attracted to him? Or maybe a little more?”

Emma took another pull from her bottle. “Maybe a lot more.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

(His ass was fantastic, but that was beside the point.) “But…you know how I am. My history. It hasn’t really been that long since Graham…” She still had a hard time saying died.

“I know,” Mary Margaret said softly. “No one says you have to rush into anything. But if you’re feeling something, it doesn’t hurt to pursue it. Especially if he seems to reciprocate.”

Well, that was her other conundrum, wasn’t it: did he? Much like her, he wasn’t really prone to showing emotion—not noticeably, at least; he wore an air of apathy as well as he did his dark-wash jeans. In fact, she didn’t give him much thought after she first met him—when she’d been called to the bar to drag Leroy to the drunk tank on one of her first overnight shifts as a deputy.

She’d definitely seen him, though; Ian was certainly easy on the eyes—perfectly disheveled hair above light blue eyes, just the right amount of gingery stubble, and a hint of chest hair visible through the open vee of his appropriately tight henley—but her thoughts towards him didn’t go deeper than the surface. She also hadn’t missed the quick once-over he gave her, though she couldn’t tell if it was in appreciation or merely assessment.

It wasn’t until her following visit (Leroy’s next trip to the station’s overnight accommodations) that he did more than hum at her, but there was very little effort in the casual pickup line he threw at her (and she did her damnedest to ignore the lilt of his foreign accent).

She knew his kind—or so she thought: the type of asshole who hid behind a pretty face and a quick come-on and that was all it took to get into a girl’s pants. Frankly, that was something she’d fallen for a few too many times, but not here—not in Storybrooke. Not when Regina was constantly looking for a reason to send her out of town (even if she won that sheriff election fair and square, Gold’s involvement notwithstanding) or limit her time with Henry.

It wasn’t until the first time she got a call at the bar after Graham died that she exchanged more than passing pleasantries with him. Ian wasn’t the first to express his condolences, but he was the first to say, “It’s just not fair.” That was exactly how she felt, too. And that’s when things started to shift between them.

(Apparently, he and Graham went way back—he didn’t specify how far, but it sounded like a while, the kind of vague forever that seemed prevalent in such a small town. Graham had helped him out of a few scrapes, and vice versa. “He was a good man,” Ian had concluded. “Seems those always go too soon.” It felt like there was more to go with that statement, but then “Only the Good Die Young” had come on the jukebox and it was a little too on the nose and she had to get out of there.)

But it really took a turn the night he intervened while she was breaking up a bar fight, getting in the way of a drunken punch meant for her and taking it in the cheek instead. (That was also the night she finally noticed his left arm ended not in a hand, but a prosthesis, as she made the assailant wait in the squad car while she put together an ice pack for Ian’s face; she also found out that night that he mixed a mean whiskey sour.)

So they were…she wasn’t sure if they could really say “friends” after that—not quite a team, either; allies, maybe? Whatever it was, it was definitely something she needed.

She started to run into him at Granny’s after that. The first time, she was getting her morning coffee before heading into the station; he was getting some tea before heading home after closing the bar. Then they’d see each other at lunch hour; if the diner was full, they shared a booth. But then that became something of a habit, too, on the days he didn’t close and she didn’t work overnight (though they eventually started another of sharing a drink at the end of their late-night shifts).

Admittedly, it was a little awkward at first; Emma had never been great at the whole small-talk thing (and even worse at the making-friends thing)—but on the bright side, so was he. She found out little things, like when a favorite song would come on (“Behind Blue Eyes” was up there, unsurprisingly/heartbreakingly), or when she’d ask for a liquor recommendation (rum—always rum). She let slip at one point how much she enjoyed Motown, and he quickly picked up on her hot chocolate order.

More solid information came to light later; as she’d guessed, he was a loner, too—no family left, and had drifted around England and the US until he ended up in Storybrooke, somehow. He made an appreciative comment about her being a fellow jailbird over a beat-up copy of that awful article in the Mirror, but his face fell when she mentioned how old she’d been—a rare emotional moment for him. (But not as intense as when she’d commented on the tattoo on his forearm late one night, and the unmistakable look of loss took over; all they could do at that point was make a toast to living through heartbreak.)

It was…she didn’t want to say easy, but it was nice—there were no expectations, no responsibilities. Just the pleasure of each other’s company, and a sense of kindred comraderie.

She was also aware, but ignoring the fact, that the less she knew, the better. There was less chance that he was lying to her or holding something back; less chance for him to get disappointed in who she was. (Less chance to be hurt.)

“He does, right?” Mary Margaret’s question dragged her back to the present.

Which brought Emma to the downside of being attracted to someone whose walls abutted hers: it was hard to get a read on what was going on in his head, especially when he wasn’t outwardly expressive (more than when they first met, but it was still rare). All she could do was shrug at her roommate and take another pull of wine.

“Yeah, he’s always come off as kind of aloof,” Mary Margaret agreed. “Not altogether unfeeling—more like, not a lot?”

Emma was the last person to make any comments there. What was it she’d said to Graham? “Not feeling anything is an attractive option when what you're feeling sucks.” They both had reason enough for that.

“But it looks like you’ve gotten closer to him than anyone in a while,” her roommate went on, “and vice versa?”

“More or less,” Emma conceded. “Present company notwithstanding.”

“I’m honored. And you know what I say about hope,” she answered.

Emma did, but wasn’t sure she was ready to say she was that far in. She extended the end of her bottle to Mary Margaret, who clinked her own against it in solidarity.

By the end of the night, she had no further clarity on the situation and the beginnings of a hangover. Maybe she was overthinking it—or maybe it wasn’t even worth overthinking; it’s not like these things ever worked out in her favor anyway.

But…she did keep thinking about hope.

———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———

Her friends eventually dragged her out to the Rabbit Hole for a girls’ night. They’d cited the fact that she missed all the excitement on Valentine’s Day, with Ashley’s engagement, so she needed to make up for it.

Despite still being new to the whole having-female-friends thing (having any friends, really), she had fun. Ian poured the drinks strong and sent more than a few small, sideways grins her way as he watched her dance with the others. She was hoping her subsequent blush could be blamed on exertion or alcohol, except—

“Oh my god,” Ruby yelled at her as they returned to their booth for a refreshment. “Just go screw him already.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve been eye-fucking the bartender all night! Go do something about it!”

Well, now her cheeks surely matched her bright red dress—and, to make it worse (or better, Ruby would probably say), when she glanced over at Ian a moment later to see if he’d heard, he was smirking and raised an eyebrow as soon as she caught his eye.

(They hadn’t crossed that line yet but—it had been close. She’d been all too aware of the proximity of their lips when she was helping him shut down last week and they’d collided in the back hall—her hands on his firm chest, his coming to her waist, the dart of her eyes to his mouth—she’d basically sprinted out of there.)

There was definitely an itch to scratch, but she wasn’t about to go there with him. Because she knew, with him, it would be so much more than that. (And if he didn’t reciprocate…that would be even worse.)

“So I hear you’ve been hanging out with the bartender,” Regina asked her one day after she dropped Henry off at the mayor’s house.

Emma shrugged. “I guess,” she answered, downplaying whatever it was they had—if only because she had a feeling Regina would find a way to weaponize it.

(Also, he was good with Henry—like, really good, maybe even better than she was. For someone who didn’t appear to care much about…anything, he always seemed to brighten and engage so much more around her kid whenever they ran into him at Granny’s. He even indulged Henry’s theories about the “curse”, but her son hadn’t decided who Ian was in this supposed other life. Emma didn’t have any ideas, either, if only because that meant Ian was the one person safe from Henry’s childlike scrutiny.)

“Even with everything he’s done?”

That got her attention. “What has he done?”

“More like what hasn’t he done; you’re the sheriff—you could look up his rap sheet. He’s got some blood on those hands—well, hand. Has he even mentioned how that happened?”

“No,” Emma said stiffly. “He hasn’t.”

“I don’t suppose he’s mentioned anything about his ex either, then. Who was married.”

“Uh, no.”

“Well, maybe you should look into it—so you can be aware of just who you’re allowing around my son.”

The mayor pointedly closed the door at that, leaving Emma alone with her thoughts—never a good combination. She was mulling it over on the drive to the station—how much did she actually believe what Regina was saying?

But her curiosity was too piqued to let it rest. She felt like the biggest asshole, but after she got settled for the start of her shift, she ended up in the records room, particularly in front of the drawer labeled H–J.

As much as she didn’t want to—she had to know. She slid the drawer open and dug through the folders, until she found the one near the back labeled Johnson, Ian Brennan.

It was thick. His ‘jailbird’ comment from a while back returned to her; she thought he’d been joking at the time.

She didn’t look inside until she was in her office, with the door shut—not that she expected any visitors, least of all him (he was working anyways), but she still felt like she was doing something wrong, even if she had perfectly legal access to these files.

She took a deep breath and flipped it open.

Ian was glaring at her from the photo paper-clipped to the stack of forms—a bit younger, a bit angrier than the man she knew, with a fire in those blue eyes she’d never seen, even from behind a layer of guyliner and shaggy bangs.

Beneath it, typed out, it listed his name, birthdate (although the year was smudged beyond recognition), that he was born in England, and a charge for drunk driving.

The next sheet: illegal possession of a firearm.

The next several that followed included a handful of drug-related charges, mostly involving the transporting of them.

The last page said manslaughter.

She slammed the folder shut and threw it in the empty bottom drawer of her desk.

In vain, she tried to pretend she hadn’t seen it. Maybe someone planted it there? She wouldn’t put it past Regina, though as to why, she couldn’t guess. The comments about an affair, though—she’d done the whole dating-a-married-guy thing; it hadn’t ended well, but it still wasn’t something she was keen on.

For the next week or so, she managed to avoid him—took all her Granny’s orders to go; sent Ruby to deal with anything at the bar; and one time, ran down an alley when she saw him coming the opposite way down the sidewalk. (She didn’t say she was mature about it…or subtle.)

When she got home later that week, there were two bottles of rosé on the counter again. “My turn,” Mary Margaret said, handing one over.

Was infidelity just a thing here? Because now her roommate was dealing with it, too. Emma’s opinion of David wasn’t the highest at the moment—he couldn’t string her best friend along and stay with his wife—but the longer Mary Margaret pursued this, the more heartache it was gonna cause.

“Thanks for talking to me about it,” she said, halfway through the bottle. “What about you? How are things with Ian?”

Emma took a long, long drink.

“Gotcha,” Mary Margaret said knowingly.

———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———

It came to a head when she was in the station one morning, having arrived to her shift early in order to avoid seeing him at the diner. She was dealing with some paperwork when she heard the front door open. “In here,” she called out, assuming it was Regina telling her off for something she hadn’t done right. Footsteps approached. “What would you like to yell at me about today, Madam Mayor?” she asked sarcastically.

“I hadn’t planned on yelling, but I did want to ask why you’ve been avoiding me.”

Oh shit. Ian was there in the doorway, a coffee cup and bag from Granny’s in his hand, and a serious set in his stare.

“I haven’t,” she lied, then turned back to the computer screen (not that it was doing anything—it still ran Windows 98, after all). “I’ve just been busy.”

“See, I’m actually quite perceptive,” he replied, then stepped forward to set the foodstuffs on the corner of her desk. “And this? This is avoiding.”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “Yeah,” she had to admit. They’d always been honest with each other, even if they’d clearly withheld some things. And given how poorly her attempted lie a moment ago went, it would be dumb to try to again.

“What is it, love? Did I do something wrong?”

She opened her eyes to look up at him, and regretted it—he looked genuinely hurt. What she was about to do probably wouldn’t help.

Staying seated, she bent down to open the bottom drawer on her desk, and then pulled out his file. Then she carefully set it in front of her.

He immediately recognized it, she could tell. “Ah.”

“I’m sorry; I was talking to Regina and she said some things and—curiosity got the best of me.”

“I see.”

She couldn’t tell if he was angry or hurt—or both—but either way, she felt like an ass. May as well throw fuel on the fire. “She mentioned something about your ex, too—specifically, her marital status.”

“She did, did she?” His words were suddenly emotionless.

“Is…is that all you’re gonna say?” she eventually asked quietly.

He blinked slowly, as when he opened his eyes, they were just a bit duller—a bit more reserved. (That was worse than anything else she’d seen recently.)

“What else needs to be said, Swan?” he shrugged. “You apparently have all you need to know right there, between that and whatever the mayor has told you.”

His gaze settled somewhere near the floor and silence stretched uncomfortably between them. Even louder to her, though, was the fact he was just…accepting it.

“Seriously?” she snapped. “You’re not gonna defend yourself, or fight back at whatever is incorrect in my assumptions?”

He furrowed his brow. “What good would it do?”

“Show me you give a crap!” she shouted, standing so fast it sent her rolling chair sliding into the wall. “Because I’m trying to figure out whatever the hell this is,” she went on, gesturing between them, “but I can’t tell if you actually care or not.”

Finally, something steely settled in his gaze.

“Not feeling anything is an attractive option when what you’re feeling sucks,” he stated, plainly but pointedly.

She swallowed at the recitation of what she once had said to Graham. She already knew she wasn’t the first sheriff to strike up a friendship with him, but she was probably the only one Ian had thrown their own words back at.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it go away,” she countered.

“If you do it long enough, it does.”

“And then what? You just never feel anything for the rest of your life?” God, Mary Margaret was really rubbing off on her—though that didn’t mean her calling him out wasn’t a little hypocritical.

“It had been working well for me.”

“Fine then,” she spat. “You can go back to your lonely existence and I’ll fuck off to mine and we’ll just leave it at that.” She crossed her arms and curled in on herself; she was definitely pouting, but the alternative was flopping back in her seat and crying.

His face relaxed, almost going the other way into a frown. “Bloody hell, that’s not what—no, love, I—I just thought you knew me better than that,” he admitted, almost apologetically.

“Well, apparently I don’t,” she parroted back. “I’m wondering if I know anything about you. This is some serious shit, Ian.”

“And I thought you of all people might understand that,” he said matter-of-factly. “I remember the headlines after you arrived in town; just because you have a badge now doesn’t mean you’ve always been on the right side of the law, either.”

“I’m not pretending I didn’t!”

“Neither am I. I just don’t go broadcasting it, given that I still have the option not to.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d be telling people I killed someone either.”

“I—” He started to talk, but then closed his mouth and clenched his jaw. After taking a deep breath, he said, “Not that I really need to, but can I tell you the full story? Before you completely write me off?”

She nodded, but held back what she was really thinking: that she didn’t want him to write himself off.

“I did get into some bad shit,” he started. “My brother was gone, my ex had just died, and I was suddenly an amputee, so I was alone and spiraling. Fell in with the wrong crowd—classic story. Got in deep with a drug ring, and then I got caught. Killed a member of a warring cartel in the process. But, by some miracle, I had a great lawyer. They got a few of the charges thrown out for lack of evidence and I reached a plea deal on the others, along with a heavily reduced sentence for my cooperation in taking down much of the rest of the ring. Did my time, now I’m here. And I regret it every day.”

“Damn.” That was heavier than expected.

“Aye.” He scratched nervously behind his ear. “Anything else?”

She chewed her bottom lip; she was nervous to ask, but she had to. “So, your ex…”

“My ex was married when we met. But it wasn’t a happy marriage. And I didn’t lure her away, or whatever may have been said—she ran off with me. But I loved her, so I went with it. Until her husband found us and went mad. Tried to cut off my hand; stabbed her. Doctors had to take it the rest of the way off,” he explained, raising his prosthesis. “Add that to the list of reasons why I fell in with the wrong people.”

Fuck. “Yeah, that’ll do it.”

“Indeed.” He toyed with the fingers on his false hand for a moment, and then looked back up at her. “But Swan, why couldn’t you just ask me that? Rather than take the word of a woman who we’ve all seen lie to you—to everyone—before.”

She swallowed. “Because I couldn’t take the chance I was wrong about you.”

“Were you?”

It took her by surprise. “Was I what?”

“Were you wrong about me?” He was staring back at her intently, like he hadn’t just asked a simple but potentially earth-shattering question—but also looked like he was bracing for impact.

She nearly stopped breathing. Not that she had planned any part of this conversation, but when she imagined talking to him again, she thought it’d be more about her figuring out whether he’d let her inside his walls. Logically, it was only fair that he did the same; it was just the first time anyone had followed her in—not to mention challenged her once they were there. (Especially not someone with intense blue eyes, bolder than she’d yet seen them.) And she didn’t know how to respond.

“Because I know I’m not the biggest catch or anything—I’m certainly not Graham—” he went on (and apparently knew where to sting her), “and yeah, I probably still drink a bit more rum than is advised, but other than this—” he nodded at the folder, “—I’ve been nothing but honest with you. So now it’s up to you to decide: whatever it is you’re worried about—were you wrong?”

It had been a long-ass time since anyone had been that bluntly honest with her. (And never someone she was interested in.)

He was right—her lie detector had never gone off with him, either. (It also hadn’t when Regina was gossiping, but it was a little less accurate with noticing exaggerations or omissions.)

He’d never really answered her earlier question, though. “I just need to know one thing,” she said as she stepped around the desk. “I’m not alone in feeling…this, right?” she asked, blatantly stepping into his space.

“No,” he confirmed on a breath.

“Then no, I wasn’t wrong. I think what I was actually scared of…was that I was right.”

“Right?”

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and quickly found his lips, kissing away any further confusion. (As she was finding out, they were both a bit better at nonverbal communication.)

(And he did taste a bit like rum, but—she liked it.)

———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———

She wanted to say things changed from there—they took it fast, or slow, or whatever—but in reality, their relationship really didn’t change. There were still the meals at Granny’s, the nights at the bar. She’d never really been a date-night kind of girl. But emotionally—woah.

It was like she was seeing a whole other side of Ian—but at the same time, it felt like it had always been there, just hiding below the surface. It wasn’t a universal thing—he was still a bit reserved while at work, or around just about anyone other than her and Henry—which made what they had feel all the more special.

There were also more than a few makeout sessions sprinkled in there, too. (Being chased out of the back hall of Granny’s by said proprietress, giggling like teenagers, was one of her more cherished memories since arriving here.)

For a short while, it was simple and sweet and it made her happy. For a little bit, she maybe had the kind of life she’d always hoped—with her son, friends, and a guy she really liked.

But it was like the universe noticed or something—no, Emma Swan couldn’t simply have nice things. Shit always, inevitably hit the fan.

Starting with having to arrest and book her roommate for murder.

She texted ahead and he had a shot waiting for her when she got to the bar after, then a couple more after that. She was definitely loitering—and he could tell. “What is it, love? Aside from the obvious.”

One thing she’d realized: he was exceedingly good at reading her, like a book he couldn’t put down.

“I don’t want to go back to the apartment,” she admitted. “It’s not that I’m afraid to be alone, but knowing that she’s in a cell and I’m there—and that someone may have been in the loft—I just…it freaks me out a bit.”

He swallowed. “Forgive me if this is too forward, but…I could go with you,” he offered. “At least to make sure everything is safe.”

“I’d like that.”

The walk to the loft from the Rabbit Hole was short but filled with energy; there was literally no reason for her to be any sort of excited, but she never invited guys back to her place. Even if she had no plans of anything intimate happening, this was something of a big step for her.

Of course, it ended up being anticlimactic—there was nothing amiss in the flat—but she was still hesitant to want to leave his presence, while at the same time not wanting to seem needy or like she was coming onto him in a subversive way.

“I, uh, could sleep on the couch, if you’d feel better,” he offered, doing that adorable nervous scratch behind the ear. Right—it had been a while for him with this kind of stuff, too.

“Um, yeah, I would. Thanks.”

That was the night she learned he snored—but the sound eventually lulled her to sleep, too.

As it did for the next few nights.

Then came the one after she narrowly escaped that crazy Jefferson’s house with Mary Margaret. She was still shaking as she took the stairs to the apartment and almost didn’t notice Ian sitting on the landing, nearly tripping over his feet.

“Swan, what’s wrong? You never answered my texts so I got worried and came here and, well—I wasn’t sure who to call when the sheriff is the one missing.”

She invited him in—or tried to, but she was trembling so much, she could barely get the key in the lock. Not until his steady hand wrapped around hers and helped.

Once inside, she nearly collapsed just closing the door—both out of relief, and because her adrenaline was finally wearing off. But Ian caught her. And for the first time in years, she let herself be comforted by someone else. (She didn’t cry—she wasn’t ready for that kind of vulnerability yet—but this was kind of a big deal.)

“Do you want me to stay on the couch again tonight?” he murmured when she began to sway, fatigue winning over. She shook her head into his shoulder. (Also: he smelled good. Like, real good.) “Should…should I go?” She shook her head again.

Emma wasn’t a spooner. She took what she needed and then she left. But that was the night she understood why people enjoyed it so much. And waking up still wrapped in his strong arms was a kind of comfort she hadn’t known existed.

There was a brief—but weird—reprieve from the emotional heaviness when it turned out Kathryn Nolan was miraculously alive (despite her heart supposedly being outside her body), and then they held a party to welcome Mary Margaret back home. She shared (more than) a few drinks with Ian after the former; their first official outing as a couple, if it could be called that, was the latter. Mary Margaret arched an eyebrow and smirked at her as she and Ian moved around the kitchen getting ready. Emma just blushed—and then blushed harder when Ian pressed a quick kiss on her cheek as he stepped past her.

Then August kind of went crazy—his offer of help in dealing with the Regina-Sidney-whatever turned into another journey of emotional whiplash. She slumped onto what had become her usual stool at the bar, just a few minutes before close. Ian put some tea in front of her rather than anything stronger and took her upstairs after he’d locked up. He lived there, apparently, in a pretty spartan studio apartment.

“Tell me,” he said gently. Not long ago, she would have brushed something like that off—but not anymore; not with him.

“I’m just tired of all this crap. Not just Regina—the whole curse thing, too. It was fine when it was Henry and I could play along, but now August? And he just—expected me to solve his problem? Just like that? No—no way.” She sighed. “It’s like everyone wants something from me or to fit some role; no one wants just Emma.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” he teased lightly. “Because I do.”

Well. She couldn’t argue with that.

And it became all the more obvious when she attacked his lips—and realized the rest of him was in agreement. She’d hesitated to take their relationship to that level; physical relationships were what she was used to, but adding in the emotional layer was something else—something more.

But, as she learned, that was in a good way.

And while drifting off into a post-coital slumber while wrapped in Ian’s steady arms, she didn’t really care what went on in the outside world—as long as she had this.

———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———

Should have known that’s when it would all really, truly crash down on her. Henry—god—seeing him in that hospital bed…and not being able to do anything…but it worked: she believed. In magic, the curse—everything. (Especially once Regina confirmed it.)

So now she was on a mission, practically storming from the hospital—when she ran into a pair of arms she’d give anything to just be able to take shelter in right now. “Love—is Henry okay? What’s going on?”

For a minute, she just looked in Ian’s eyes: that now-familiar blue that carried a wisdom beyond his years and echoed his every emotion, so different now from when she’d first met him—but in a good way. The way his worry creased his brow, the weight of his hand on her waist. If the world was about to change, she wanted to memorize him—them—in this moment. “Is everything alright?” he asked again.

She rose up on her toes to give him a firm, but all-too-brief kiss. “It fucking will be,” she told him, then ran off to save the world—or something.

———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———

An eternity later (really only a couple hours, but holy shit did it feel longer), she had fought a dragon and then apparently broken a goddamn curse with True Love’s Kiss. All that really mattered was that Henry was okay, but all around her, everyone was coming to terms with what had been done to all of them.

She’d never expected to find out the waitress was a werewolf, or the therapist was a freaking cricket—and really never thought she’d be reunited with her parents. It was amazing, but it was also a lot.

She left Henry with his grandparents—god, grandparents—so she could take a minute and just—breathe.

The salty sea air hit her nose and she realized her feet had taken her to the docks. The view of the sea was soothing, but then she saw someone else there taking in the horizon—someone familiar. He wore the same clothes—the same motorcycle jacket, the black sweater that fit him extremely well, atop his usual dark jeans. But rather than the hand-like prosthesis she’d come to recognize, there was a hook—a freaking stereotypical pirate hook—at the end of his left arm.

(Henry had told her the fairytale counterpart of just about everyone in town—except for Ian. The illustrations in his book were good but maybe not distinct and there were a few options. She had a pretty good idea who it was narrowed down to now, though.)

“Ian?” she asked as she approached, partly to get his attention—and partly because she wasn’t sure who she was talking to.

He turned at the sound of her voice, but looked confused. Until he blinked and shook his head. “Aye, it’s me,” he answered, moving toward her. “My real name, though—it’s Killian, Killian Jones; it…took me a minute there.”

Killian. Similar, but different. It suited him.

But also: Kill-Ian—was the man she held so important now gone, effectively killed by his new—true—self?

“So…how much was real? About you?” she had to ask.

“Some of it.” Apparently that nervous ear scratch carried over. “I am—was—am? A pirate, for decades, until I was caught.”

“Captain Hook?” she wondered, nodding at his prosthesis.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me,” he smirked. It was similar to the one she knew—the same dimple—but it had a darker edge to it.

“Who hasn’t?” she replied, ignoring the bit of discomfort that was…well, adding to her overall sense of unease.

“The truth—my actual life—is a bit more gruesome than what I once told you. I wanted revenge for the murder of my love. That part was true—she had been the Dark One’s wife, and he killed her, then took my hand.” He emphasized it by toying with the (rather sharp) end of his hook.

Right; Mr. Gold was apparently—actually—a centuries-old sorcerer. “I’m not gonna have to lock you up for going after him, am I?”

“No. See, I got sloppy; I lost sight of things, and that’s how I was caught—by your parents’ kingdom, actually. Was about to be hanged when the Evil Queen’s knight rescued me. Graham.” Her heart skipped a beat. “In return, I offered them my services should they ever need them. Never heard from them again, and then got swept up in the curse.”

She swallowed. “Did she ever take you up on it? During the curse?”

He shook his head. ��Never.”

“So, us…” God, she couldn’t even put it into words. If what they’d shared wasn’t…hadn’t meant…she couldn’t fathom.

He very quickly moved into her space and took her hand. “That was very real, Swan.” His gaze had never felt more intense as he went on. “It was my understanding that the curse twisted things—changed us. I had always been someone who felt things very strongly and deeply; it’s why I was so single-mindedly focused on revenge for decades. But then under the curse…I felt nothing—not a bloody thing, for years on end—until I met you, and it all came back. It was like my heart was turned back on—like you brought me back to life.” He rubbed his coarse thumb over the back of her hand. “I know you’re probably questioning things again—especially given that you don’t fully know me, the real version, now—but Emma, I still know you, and I still desperately want you.”

She sighed in relief and nearly sagged into his arms. “Good. Because I think I love you.”

He smiled; it started as a small thing, but he couldn’t hold back from turning into a grin. “That’s appropriate, because I’m fairly certain I love you, too.”

There was a lot she needed to figure out—her life was all kinds of a mess right now—but him—this—whoever he was, he was hers. Even if she didn’t fully know him, it still felt like her heart fit right in the palm of his hand (and vice versa).

She wasted no further time in wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his; he was equally quick to reciprocate.

And, actually? Killian kissed even better than Ian did.

———.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.———

thanks for reading! Tagging some friends (including the fabulous and supportive Word Forge): @ohmightydevviepuu @shireness-says @iverna @thejollyroger-writer @wistfulcynic @phiralovesloki @initiala @idoltina @xpumpkindumplingx @cocohook38 @kmomof4 @colinoeyebrows @pirateherokillian @annytecture @stubblesandwich @wingedlioness @scientificapricot @snowbellewells @searchingwardrobes @jrob64 and I know there's more I tend to include but tumblr is being weird about it rn.

#cs ff #captain swan #cursed killian au #spartanguard: from the vault #my ff

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baysaurus · 6 months

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[slight acftl spoilers below -it's a quote from the book]

”and I'm yours but you're not mine" STEPHANIE GARBER DID YOU HAVE EARLY ACCESS TO THE VAULT TRACKS WRITING A CURSE FOR TRUE LOVE?????

#evajacks #acftl #acftl spoilers #a curse for true love #the way i lost it when i heard it in the song #spent too kuch time relating it to my ocs to notice at first BUT DAMN #evangeline fox #jacks of the hollow #taylor swift #say dont go #1989 taylors version #vault tracks

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bluerasbunny · 5 months

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unfortunately whenever i see your name, i first read it as gravy before correcting myself : )

vault this is the third time someone's said this and every time it's like a brick to the face

#grayy rambles #am i cursed to be gravy. am i #am i gravyskies now.#thank you for the ask vault!! <3

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sraksha · 1 year

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The duality of man

@gaylactic-fire Vault is upset because he didn't get head pats :(

#link oc #the hero of vault #the hero of reindeer #cursed link generator #sraksha's art

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missnight0wl · 7 months

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Let’s talk about Elton Elderberry – and why he’s a total bitch

First of all, I want to thank @thedoodlecat because a lot of the ideas I’ll discuss were formed during our conversations. So, credit where credit's due!

Secondly, I want to make it clear from the start that it’s not quite a theory, meaning: I personally don’t believe Jam City might take the story in this direction. However, I believe that a lot of it might be a leftover of what’s the story supposed to be. And yes, it can also be explained by the writers having no idea what they’re doing, but on the other hand, it ties in with many interesting details from the past, mostly from Y5. And I still believe that year was super important for the narrative.

Now, without further ado, let’s move on to Elton. Spoilers up to Y7Ch56.

Ok, so the first thing that really bothers me about Elton Elderberry is that he was well aware of the Crown of Mneme, how dangerous it can be, and he had to at least suspect that it might be in the Sunken Vault – and for all those years, he did absolutely fucking nothing.

And it’s quite problematic because there’s no way he just… didn’t know about MC and the Cursed Vaults. At the beginning of Y3, MC told us that pretty much everyone could learn about it from the Daily Prophet. And we know that the Ministry was especially aware of it. Even if we ignore Moody’s involvement starting from Y6, first with Rakepick and then with Peregrine, we also had the Ministry sending Tofty to spy on MC during our O.W.L.s because of the Cursed Vaults. And honestly, I just don’t buy the explanation that Elton somehow… just didn’t hear about it. So, like, what the hell?

Now, I can hear you saying: “Oh, but of course Elton didn’t do anything because he wasn’t a character yet and Jam City probably just created him now!”. And you know what? That’s a totally valid remark and quite probable explanation. Still, I kept thinking about it anyway, and I quickly noticed another problem with Elton: how we actually learnt that he was directly involved in Ryusaki’s death. I mean, look at those scenes:

And then after our visit to the Archives:

(I just have to point out that he’s fucking grinning here…)

… and then:

Do you see the problem here??

Imagine this. You meet Steve. Steve tells you about the mother who died in a car accident with her two children. Sadly, she was the one who caused the accident because she was under the influence. Later you learn on your own that the said mother was a model parent, always there for her children despite having two jobs, actually sober during the accident, rarely drunk at all, and in fact, it was Steve who caused the crash. When confronted, Steve admits to everything and says he feels terrible about it and it haunts him every day. Would you believe Steve that he’s so sorry? BECAUSE I DEFINITELY WOULDN’T. In fact, I’d do everything to stay away from Steve.

Now, again, I’m aware that it might be simply JC’s incompetence in making a connection between the Crown of Mneme and Dai Ryusaki – even though it could’ve been easily done without Elton actively portraying Ryusaki as a bad guy. For example:

Elton: I advise you to avoid the Crown at all costs. MC: I wonder if it has anything to do with the Dark Scroll… Elton: You don’t mean Dai Ryusaki’s Dark Scroll, do you? MC: That dark wizard? Yes, I do. Why? Do you know anything about it too? Elton: *not answering right away and looking very ashamed instead, showing already that he doesn’t want to reveal the truth because of his loyalty to the Ministry, but also showing his guilt*

And yes, I know it wouldn’t be the first time JC didn’t see the simplest solutions in their writing. But as I was thinking about it more, I realised that if we assume that Elton indeed knew about MC and the Cursed Vaults all that time and did nothing on purpose, it’s both surprising and fascinating how many things start to add up. In this scenario, Elton would also want to portray Ryusaki as a bad guy. I know it doesn’t fully work currently because, in the end, it was Elton who let us go to the Archives, but I guess it’s possible that originally, we were supposed to learn the truth about Ryusaki in some different way. And either way, I have to point out that there’s something very off in this part of the story no matter what. I mean, let me ask you one question:

Why exactly Dai Ryusaki was killed?

Because if you think about it, it was never really explained… properly. Like, we keep using words like “miscommunication” or “misunderstanding”.

But… how the fuck can you kill somebody because of misunderstanding? I guess we’re supposed to interpret it as: “The International Confederation of Wizards thought Dai wanted to use his invention to do bad things while he was actually trying to destroy his invention once he realised it’s dangerous”. However, this interpretation doesn’t really make sense. Why? Look at Ryusaki’s notes we found in the Archives.

Ryusaki seems absolutely certain that once he destroys what he was about to destroy, it’s done. He accepted that his work would be no more after that. And that makes me believe that nobody else (or almost nobody) knew about his work. Because otherwise, he’d have to realise that someone might try to replicate his work, right? Or even force him to simply repeat it? Yet he’s not worried about it. And the thing is that Ryusaki was a very intelligent, reasonable, and conscious man. So… how the hell the International Confederation of Wizards knew anything to misinterpret Ryusaki’s intentions?

Well, what if there was someone other than Ryusaki who knew about his work after all? But Dai completely trusted that person, so that’s why he was so sure the whole thing would remain secret? What if that person happened to work at the British Ministry of Magic? What if this person was…

Elton “The Bitch” Elderberry?

Ok, so I know that everything I said so far is a big assumption, but I swear it does make sense, so please, bear with me. And I’ll actually start by summarising what I believe how it all began and then I’ll elaborate on each element because it’s gonna be easier for me that way.

So, I believe that Dai Ryusaki and Elton Elderberry were once good friends. They were both quite talented wizards, and while they had different goals in life, they realised at some point that the treasure from the Cursed Vaults might help them achieve that. Together, they created a group that we know as R. Unfortunately for Elton, Dai realised eventually that both his own invention and the Cursed Vaults themselves are dangerous, so he decided to quit. Elton didn’t like it, and he was afraid that Dai would try to stop him as well, so he decided to be proactive about it. Using his position as a Hit Wizard at the Ministry, he sold Dai out, claiming he’s a dangerous dark wizard. Elton kept R alive ever since, and he was waiting for MC to be born because MC is necessary to open the final Cursed Vault.

Of course, I assume that the original plans for the final Cursed Vault were different than what we saw in Y6. Also, from that point, I’ll keep calling Elton “Brelton” because:

BITCH + R + ELTON = BRELTON

… and I just think this distinction might be useful because, as I said, I don’t think it might still be true, yet it seems that Elton Elderberry will stay in the story anyway. Ok, but let’s talk about some details.

Dai’s and Brelton’s goals

As for Dai’s goal, it’s pretty straightforward. It’s basically said directly in the game: he wanted to help people with traumatic memories. What would be Brelton’s goal then? Well, let me remind you one note from R we found in Y5:

The interesting thing about it is that for the longest time, it was the only case where it was mentioned that R had any interest in immortality. As soon as the Dark Scroll was introduced, we only talked about R wanting knowledge. I even talked with my friend about how weird it is that the writers totally abandoned the immortality aspect (Bee, I’m not tagging you because I don’t want you to feel obliged to read this long-ass post, but if you’re reading it anyway: Hi! I’m talking about you!). In fact, I��m pretty sure that the word “immortality” wasn’t even used in the main story after that note from R – until our conversation with Elton in Y7Ch49:

And you know what? I don’t think it’s just a coincidence. Because it’s not even true! Every time we talked about Ryusaki’s potion, it was about mind-enhancing potion.

So… what if it’s the leftover of the original plans for Elton’s character? What if it’s Brelton who was all about immortality? And now, JC just looked at the notes made by Matt London and his team and simply put the immortality potion in there without thinking if it made sense. I realise it feels like another stretch, but I have to point out that Elton’s old age is a little sus – and they stress all the time how old he is. I mean, wizards do live longer than Muggles, but most of them don’t live over 300 years. (There’s actually the HP wiki page about it.)

And the thing is that from the story point of view, it wasn’t even necessary to make Elton this old. Sure, it adds some flavour with the reveal that he was actually there when Dai was killed, but on the other hand, he mentions every now and then that his memory is not the best anymore etc. So, wouldn’t it be better if MC met Elton's son or grandson, for example? Personally, I think it would, and that’s why I’m gonna assume for the rest of this analysis that R was always about “enlightenment and immortality”, and that Dai Ryusaki represented the first element while Elton Elderberry the second one.

Why they needed the Cursed Vaults?

Ok, so now that we know what they wanted in general, let’s try to figure out why they went after the Cursed Vaults – and as I mentioned already, I assume that the original treasure was actually… well, a thing. I admit that I wasn’t able to figure out what exactly it could’ve been, but I have some ideas about what properties the Treasure could have, based on Dai’s and Brelton’s goals.

This time, let’s start with Brelton because it’s a bit easier. Basically, I believe that Brelton managed to invent something that grants semi-immortality, but it’s not the perfect invention. Sure, he’s still alive and his mind is not in the worst condition, but still. So, I think that he believes that the Treasure could improve his invention by granting actual immortality and/or eternal youth.

It’s a bit more complicated with Dai because we have to consider multiple elements. First of all, we have the mind-enhancing potion. The recipe for it was hidden on the Dark Scroll which was confirmed by the notes found by MC in the Archives. But earlier, MC also mentioned “a device”, and then they read: “I can’t bear to destroy my life’s work, but I know that I must. The scroll has already been hidden”. So… what exactly was he about to destroy? If we want to stick to the legend told by Corey, it might’ve been about the already-prepared potion. He might’ve also been referring to his research in general and his notes or something. But then we have the Crown of Mneme… And that’s quite interesting because we actually know that it’s something he found in Greece – which, by the way, confirms that the Crown was not something placed in the Cursed Vaults originally (I’ll return to it in a moment).

Either way, to simplify it a little bit, I’m gonna assume that Dai’s invention was about the Crown and the potion - and that together was considered his “device”. What about the Treasure then? I see a couple of options.

Perhaps the Treasure would give more control over the Crown or allow to exchange of thoughts both ways. I mean, what we saw in the game looked like the wearer could only send their thoughts, but if Dai wanted to treat patients with traumatic memories, he probably wanted to extract those memories.

Perhaps the Treasure could permanently remove/destroy traumatic memories. Because I don’t think you can actually do it with Obliviate, for example. I might be wrong, but I feel that there is always a small chance that the memory would come back or simply leave some mark behind it.

How the Crown of Mneme ended in the Sunken Vault?

So… If Dai was so certain that his invention was gone and to be forgotten, and on top of that I claim that he didn’t want to have anything to do with the Cursed Vaults, then how the hell the Crown of Mneme ended in the Sunken Vault? Well, I guess I won’t surprise anyone at this point by saying that it was Brelton who was behind it. And the best thing is that we actually know that R was in the Sunken Vault in the past – and that’s thanks to the note found in the Weird Sisters TLSQ:

So, this is what I propose. Brelton got the Crown of Mneme before Dai’s death somehow. I don’t think that Dai would just give it to him because I assume they already fell apart at that point. Or perhaps Brelton lied to Dai and offered that he’d destroy the Crown? Either way, he probably wasn’t planning to destroy it (as it might be useful for him), and he continued his search for the Cursed Vaults. Unfortunately for him, once he got to the Sunken Vault, he realised he couldn’t do anything without the key. And now, the key might be the Gillyweed/Coral Key Rakepick took from us in Y4, or maybe it’s about the siblings – or it’s both (like in my version of the story). Anyway, the Treasure was unachievable, so Brelton used this opportunity to hide the Crown of Mneme and just left.

Ryusaki and the creation of the Cabal

Ok, but why I assume that Dai Ryusaki even knew about the Cursed Vaults, to begin with? I just explained how it was probably Brelton who put the Crown in the Sunken Vault, and we don’t really have anything to prove that Dai needed the Treasure to improve his invention. Well, yeah. But we have something else. Something that I find very exciting. See, during our first trip to Knockturn Alley, we visited also Flourish and Blotts where we found a Black Quill containing this message:

And for the longest time, I was just… absolutely stumped by it. I couldn’t come up with any decent theory as to who left that note. But now, I do strongly believe that it was left by Dai Ryusaki. Brelton was too greedy to get his immortality and too afraid of his own mortality to leave the Cursed Vaults and refused to listen to his friend that it’s too dangerous. The note also talks about “them”, so maybe R had some more members at that point already (but only Dai and Elton knew everything). And you know what makes it even more fascinating? We found this Black Quill in the book by Maerwynn Montfort who’s a totally original author mentioned only in this specific scene in HPHM. Interestingly, Maerwynn is a feminine name that is of Welsh origin that means “joy”. And coincidently, Dai is a Welsh masculine given name (which means “beloved”), a hypocorism of Dafydd or David, as well as a masculine Japanese given name. Like…

Are you kidding me??

I mean, ok, sure. It might be just a coincidence. But you have to admit that it’s a pretty damn odd coincidence. Maybe Maerwynn was someone from Dai’s Welsh part of the family or just a friend whom he met there? Or maybe it’s just a pseudonym or something. But either way, it might be hinting at some (“Welsh”) connection. And that’s why they were exchanging secret information!

Still, that’s not even all I finally realised about the note. Because I also believe that it confirms that the Cabal from Jacob’s notebook is a different group than R – and I think that it was Dai Ryusaki who started that group.

Ok, so I explained the whole idea in this post. It’s one of my shorter analyses so I recommend checking it out. But to put it even shorter, my problem with the note from Y5Ch15 was always that Jacob was confused about why the Cabal wanted to kill him.

But R was very open about threatening Jacob and especially his family, so… it shouldn’t be surprising at all. He might’ve been confused if he was doing everything R told him to do – but then it doesn’t make sense that R would want to kill Jacob and MC. I mean, after Duncan’s death, they clearly told him to continue his search.

So, I always interpreted the Cabal as a separate group who wanted to protect the Cursed Vaults by killing the siblings because the siblings are necessary to get to the Treasure. And if we join it with the note from Flourish and Blotts, it totally adds up. Dai realised that the Cursed Vaults were dangerous and wanted to stop R. Brelton wouldn’t listen, so Dai wanted to destroy the vault portrait which, assumingly, would make it impossible to get to the Portrait Vault. On top of that, he started the group that was supposed to make sure that nobody would ever get hurt by the Vaults by killing the siblings (who can get the Treasure). It was about the creation of the Cabal this whole time!

Brelton as the true leader of R

In general, I have to say that Brelton being the true leader of R just makes more sense. In this scenario, it’d also mean that Peregrine is just… a current face of the organisation. A puppet. And yes, I keep saying that I don’t believe that Perry was always planned to be a part of the story, so why do I even mention him? Well, to be completely honest, I’m willing to accept that Perry was planned along with Dai and Brelton’s story – just not as MC’s father. Because it makes sense that Brelton would want to keep his position at the Ministry, and if so, he’d probably need someone to (occasionally) represent R. And that could be Peregrine. In fact, we saw some moments when the leader of R was treated weirdly ambiguous. The first case is our conversation with Rakepick in Azkaban. And yes, I know that we didn’t know about Peregrine then yet, so it kind of makes sense to leave it more ambiguous, but I want to point out a specific thing Rakepick said.

Honestly, I was always confused by it because “the one behind it all” sounds like someone who also created R, at least in my opinion. On the other hand, we had hints in the past that R is a rather older organisation. Not to mention that Perry claimed that he joined R, meaning that R was R before the current leader joined them. Of course, it is possible that Perry lies. It is also possible that the title of R is simply given to each leader. But… I don’t know. Rakepick’s words sound to me like she is talking about only one person. However, if that one person is actually Brelton, it makes sense that he’s both the current true leader and the one responsible for creating the organisation.

My other issue is with Olivia’s memories. Because Rakepick is very clearly talking to someone from R in those scenes, but for whatever reason we never learn who it was.

So, what if it was actually supposed to be Brelton? And speaking of that, ever since we learnt that Olivia was working at the Ministry, I thought it was pretty suspicious, and I fully expected that R was controlling that. And what a coincidence that Elton became Olivia’s mentor for all those years…

Hell, it’d even make more sense why Verucca is so damn worried about Perry being cursed by Ryusaki’s amulet. Because if Brellton indeed betrayed Dai, then it could mean that it’s Brelton who’s the real target of that whole revenge plan. The curse might be simply generalising it because, well, it’s just a spirit that’s basically the essence of Ryusaki’s anger. But if Verucca knows about everything as a high-ranking member of R, then yeah, she’d try to stop Perry from hurting their dear leader Brelton.

And… that’s it!

Once again, like I said, I do not expect the game to confirm any of the things I discussed above. But that being said, I feel very confident about pretty much everything I said. And even though it took me months to finally write it all down, I have to say that putting it together was really fun and exciting. Who knows, maybe it’s the last time I feel like that about HPHM theory, at least when it comes to relatively new content. But even if so, I’m kind of glad that I got some semi-closure to the things that were bothering me.

#long post #hogwarts mystery #hphm #elton elderberry #dai ryusaki #hphm mc #olivia green #patricia rakepick #hphm peregrine #hphm r #the cabal #cursed vaults #brelton theory #analysis post #theory #hphm theory

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livelaughlovewonderwoman · 1 year

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HPHM YEAR 4 SPOILERS BELOW!!!

i literally just got fucking petrified and i was literally waiting for angsty hurt/comfort trope to happen where all of my friends find out and are like "omg are you okay bitch" but NOTHING.

maybe i'm just an attention whore ( I am )

#harrypotter #hogwarts #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mc #hogwarts mystery mc #hphm #rowan x mc #rowan khanna #i'm in love with rowan #penny haywood #merula snyde #ben copper #bill weasley #talbott winger #jacob's sibling #cursed vaults #barnaby lee #charlie weasley

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dndtreasury · 9 months

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Frostfang by Timmi's Treasure Vault

#timmi's treasure vault #frostfang #magic weapons #legendary #greatsword #swords #sword #ice #icy #artic #cold #frost #movement #cursing #slow #element #elements #elemental

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mythicalviper-fr · 1 year

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buys another ridgeback buys another ridgeback buys another ridgeback-

#someone stop me I've gone mad with power #there is no money left in my vault now #curse this gene combo it's too good #flightrising #fr dragon showoff #flight rising #fr ridgeback #ridgeback

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lins-fandom-hub · 1 year

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"Masquerades are the most romantic kind of ball!"

Quick romantic edits from the latest TLSQ! Hope everyone enjoyed it as much as I did--it gave me some Phantom of the Opera vibes too!

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #hogwarts #cursed vaults #hphm clara lin #hphm spoilers #clara lin #barnaby lee #hphm dating

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pooks · 7 months

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"I will need your input, Mr Weasley. As our new star student, surely you have a good theory about these Cursed Vaults?"

"I-I don't know...Bill told me to stay away from them, professor."

"I am offering the opportunity of a lifetime, Percival. Wouldn't you die to know what's behind that vault? To know all the secrets of the universe?"

"...well, yes. But professor, is it safe?"

"Oh, you can trust me."

(set in Year 5 of Hogwarts Mystery, but Percy has a bigger role about the Cursed Vaults than in the game. why? cause he deserves to be a main character too and he has so much potential)

#hogwarts mystery #percy weasley #patricia rakepick #hphm spoilers #hogwarts mystery spoilers #cursed vaults #this is set in year 5 #percy has a bigger role in my hphm stories than in game #jam city you did my boy percy dirty #he deserved to shine #percy you are in danger #bill come and get your little brother asap #pooks rambles #pooks writes

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jacobscursebreakerlilsis · 1 year

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I have no words Tonks but thanks for the distraction✨

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter #hphm mc #slytherin #jacob's sibling #slytherin mc #slytherin reader #slytherin pride #barnaby lee #tulip kasaru #tonks #nymphadora tonks #don’t call me nympadora #mandrake #curse vault gang #slytherclaw #slytherpuff

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phierecycled · 1 year

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Do you know you what I’m referring to when I say “Please do not kick the child. YEET.” Or are you normal?

#from the falsettos tumblr vault #can someone please find that again #falsettos #march of the falsettos #falsettoland #broadway #musicals #marvin falsettos #whizzer brown #whizzvin #jason falsettos #four jews in a room #cursed falsettos #falsettos memes #jason and whizzer #falsettos revival #falsettos 2016

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the-al-chemist · 1 year

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Artemis Hexley and the Return to the Riddles

Chapter 21: The Last Battle

A/N: The Circle of Khanna prepare to face the final Cursed Vault, but they aren’t the only ones wanting to get to it. Warnings: threat, violence, and a *reveal*…

The days stretched longer and longer as May drew to its close. The sun was already high in the sky when the owls arrived at the breakfast table to deliver the post on the last day of the month, one of them landing on the Hufflepuff table with a small, peculiar shaped parcel attached to its leg, which it stretched out to Artemis.

Artemis took the parcel from the bird, and opened the parcel to reveal a silver key, decorated with green-painted leaf-like tendrils that rolled down the length of the handle.

“What’s that?” asked Tonks, and both she and Penny frowned at the item over the top of their Potions revision.

“It’s a key,” said Artemis, smiling as she read the handwritten note her great-uncle had wrapped into the parcel containing the key. “Sickleworth had it this whole time.”

“What does it unlock?”

“Well, judging by the fact that it’s decorated with Gillyweed,” Chiara looked closely at the key, “I’d assume that it unlocks something to do with water.”

“The Vault in the lake, maybe?”

“That’s what I’m hoping.” Artemis nodded. “I’ll see what Bill makes of it.”

As breakfast finished, Artemis placed the key in her pocket and loitered near the top table of the Great Hall, where Bill was mid-conversation with Hagrid the gameskeeper. When the two had finished talking and Bill left the table, she rushed to meet him.

“What do you think of this?” she asked him, holding the key out for him to inspect. Bill sighed heavily.

“Good morning, Bill, did you sleep well? Yes, I did. Thank you for asking,” he said, but he took the key from her. “What does this do?”

“I was hoping you might tell me. Rakepick sent me and Sickleworth into Filch’s office to find it back in my fourth year. She said it was important, and so I thought it might-”

“Be needed to open the final Vault? It would make sense, what with the Gillyweed.”

“That’s what Chiara said,” Artemis frowned. “I didn’t know what Gillyweed has to do with the lake-”

“It makes you breathe underwater.”

“- but Duncan said that Olivia Green found a key that she thought would open the final Vault, and it reminded me of this one.”

“Nicely remembered,” said Bill. He lowered his voice slightly. “You know, we might need this pretty soon.”

Artemis tilted her head to one side. “What do you mean?”

“Hagrid was just telling me that the Grindylows have started acting aggressively, same as they did last year. If you ask me, it won’t be long until…”

“The statue curse gets released,” Artemis finished Bill’s sentence for him, and he inclined his head, his face grim. Artemis looked at the key. “We need to get to that Vault. Tonight.”

“Tonight? Artemis, that’s… We aren’t ready, we don’t even know-”

“That’s the problem, Bill! No one knows how to open this Vault, not for certain.”

“No, but if we take a bit longer to research, then we can have a better idea of what we’re doing.”

“If we take much longer, more people will get cursed, or the Cabal might beat us to it,” Artemis argued. “We can’t risk losing out to them now just so we can spend longer reading books for clues that might not even be there. You know, the clues might even be hidden inside the Vault itself!”

Bill exhaled, his features softening as he did. “Okay, you have a point,” he told her. “A good point. But I’m just as worried about the Cabal as the Vault. Who knows what they know already? You said they have an informant in the Auror office.”

“They did have one, but not anymore. Kingsley said they caught him. Someone called Williamson, I think.”

“And did Williamson tell them anything about R after they caught him?”

“Nothing yet. Apparently he’s still pretending to know nothing about it all, even though Moody told him the information that got leaked and no one else. But at least the Aurors are all trustworthy now.” Artemis shrugged. An idea stuck her, and she turned to Bill. “What if we ask the Aurors to guard the school while we go down to the final Vault? That way, we won’t have to worry about the Cabal showing up, because the Aurors can stop them getting as far as the lake.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Bill, nodding slowly. “How long will it take for you to arrange that with Kingsley?”

“A day, maybe?” Artemis said. “Could be less. We might even be able to get to the Vault tonight.” Bill rolled his eyes. “What?”

“You really haven’t changed a bit, have you?”

Bill might have been sceptical about Artemis’ desire for haste, but both Kingsley and Mad-Eye Moody had thought her idea of getting to the Vault as quickly as possible a good one. The following night, an Auror patrol was set up around the perimeter of the school grounds, and the Circle of Khanna met in the entrance hall of the castle. The doors were open as they gathered, giving them a clear view of the courtyard beyond, illuminated by the crescent moon.

“That’s everyone,” Bill told Artemis, his eyes scanning the group as if he were counting them. Artemis nodded.

“Good. That’s good,” she said. “Right, so this is it. The final Vault.” Jae wolf-whistled quietly, and Artemis rolled her eyes before continuing, “The Vault is in a cave in the middle of the lake, and we are going to need to swim there. That means you'll need this."

She nodded to Tonks and Tulip, who began to hand out clumps of a stringy green plant to the others.

"This is Gillyweed, Tonks and I nicked it from the greenhouses. It'll let you breathe underwater."

"What happened to the Bubblehead Charm we used last year?" asked Barnaby, holding up a piece of Gillyweed and sniffing it suspiciously.

"Nothing happened to it, it's just that we might need to keep our wands free, that's all. The Cabal might be there, we need to be ready to defend ourselves if necessary."

Penny's blue eyes widened. "I thought you said the Aurors would be here to deal with the Cabal."

"Yeah, they will. They’re all stationed around the edges of the grounds keeping watch, and they have signals and stuff set up in place if there’s any trouble. But Moody still said we need to keep our wits about us, just in case."

Tonks screwed up her face and one of her eyes doubled in size, its iris changing colour to a bright electric blue.

"Constant vigilance!" she said in a gruff voice that was impressively similar to that of Mad-Eye Moody. A few of the others laughed, but most did not.

"I know it might be dangerous," Artemis told them. "It's okay if you've changed your minds. It's not too late to turn back."

"Like hell it isn't," muttered Merula. "Come on, let's do this."

Bill and Artemis led the Circle of Khanna out of the main doors of the castle into the darkened entrance courtyard, on the other side of which a set of steps carved into the cliffside wound down to the lakeshore below. As they walked across the courtyard, wands raised and ready, Artemis felt a hand on her right shoulder. She turned to see Charlie Weasley behind her, staring at the cloisters with his eyebrows knitted together.

"We weren't expecting anyone else, were we?" he asked, his voice low.

Artemis shook her head and followed his gaze to see that someone was standing in the cloisters, tall and cloaked in shadow. As they stepped out, the moonlight illuminated their features, their height cheekbones and silver-streaked dark hair. It took a moment for Artemis to realise that she recognised the newcomer.

She wasn't the only one.

"Dad?" Tulip pushed past Artemis and Bill to approach the wizard in the cloisters. "What are you doing here?"

"Shacklebolt told me what your friends had planned," said Ambassador Karasu, with a dirty look in Artemis' direction. "I came here to make sure that you have nothing to do with this."

"But-"

"I don't know why Shacklebolt even agreed to this nonsense. This is not something for teenagers to be engaged in, let alone when one of those teenagers is my daughter."

"We know what we're doing, Dad," Tulip rolled her eyes.

"This is far too dangerous for you. I forbid you to have any part in it."

"I'm of age. You can't forbid me to do anything."

Tulip's words seemed to have hit a nerve with her father. He reached out and grabbed her by the arm, so fast and so forcefully that Artemis was certain his hand would leave a mark.

"Let go of me!"

But Karasu did not let go of Tulip. Instead, he tightened his grip. Tulip winced as she tried to wriggle free, to no avail, and Artemis raised her wand, ready to take matters into her own hands. Before she had the chance to do anything, however, Barnaby Lee had already pointed his wand at the ambassador, his jaw clenched and shoulders shaking.

"Relashio!"

A flurry of purple sparks issued from Barnaby's wand and hit Karasu in the wrist. His hand jerked as if it were going into spasm, and his grip on his daughter's arm loosened. Tulip wrenched her arm away from him and rejoined her friends.

"My friends are going to the lake, and they are going to break these curses once and for all," she told her father in a voice that was laced with fury. "I am going with them, and there is nothing you can say or do to stop me, or any of us, for that matter."

As she spoke, Tulip's almond-shaped eyes were narrowed and fixed on her father, but he no longer seemed to be looking at her. Instead, his gaze had settled on the far corner of the courtyard, at the top of the cliffside steps. Frowning, Artemis turned to see what he was looking at, and her stomach lurched.

At the top of the steps were two more people: a pot-bellied wizard with a darkened nose who Artemis immedaitely recognised as her former teacher, Professor Topsy, and a tall, grey-haired witch in purple robes who she didn’t recognise, but knew without asking who she must be. If her violet-coloured eyes hadn't given her away, the fact that Merula Snyde had tensed beside her was all the proof she needed. This had to be Madam Buckthorn, Merula's aunt, the head Healer of St Mungo's Hospital, and the Director of the Cabal.

"You tried, Karasu. Looks like your daughter is just as disobedient as my niece. You know, my dear, you should listen to your father," said Madam Buckthorn, smiling passively at Tulip. "He's right, this isn't a matter for teenagers. It's very good of you all to have helped Miss Hexley with the last few Vaults, but I must insist that we take it from here." Her eyes settled on Artemis briefly, before she turned to talk to someone behind her. "I see what you mean. She really does look like her brother. I do hope that she will not cause us as much trouble."

Artemis glared at Madam Buckthorn. "Don't you dare talk about my brother," she said, raising her wand. "If it weren't for you, he'd never have been in any trouble at all."

“Did you not learn anything from the prophecy you stole, Hexley? You and your brother have been in trouble since you were born.”

“What do you… Wait. How do you know about us stealing the prophecy?”

There was a soft laugh from behind Madam Buckthorn, who stepped aside to reveal another witch, one with dark hair and glasses that caught the silver moonlight. Artemis' heart skipped a beat.

"Rowan?"

Of course, it wasn't Rowan. But the witch looked familiar, with her curly hair and bright green eyes. Artemis had seen her before, spoken to her, been helped by her.

Olivia Green.

"You? You're one of them?" Artemis frowned. "But you… You were Jacob's friend."

"I still am,” said Olivia. “So is the Ronde. We all wanted the same thing. We're on the same side, Artemis."

"The Ronde tried to kill me. They did kill Rowan, Duncan... After everything that’s happened, how can you be on their side?"

"The Final Vault requires a life," Olivia Green shook her head sadly, but there was no regret in her eyes. "Duncan and I both wanted to get into the Vaults with your brother. Duncan should have felt honoured to lay down his life for it. It wasn't his fault that his life wasn't the one that was needed."

Artemis looked at her in disgust. "Your friend died, and you don't even feel sorry about it."

"I feel sorry that his death was a waste. I should've known that he wasn't the one," Olivia's green eyes narrowed. "Oh, but your brother was always so very clever..."

Beside her, Madam Buckthorn let out a noise almost like a laugh. "He still is. It's a pity that he had to go and put himself in Azkaban prison so we couldn't have him lead us to the final Vault. Although, naturally, that's what he planned all along. We needed one of you to fulfil the prophecy, and without him, we'd have no choice but to have you do it. Which meant that we'd need you alive."

"Especially after our plan with Shiratori failed," muttered Karasu. "Damn that Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"Where is he?" asked Artemis, her heart sinking as she realised that if the Cabal was here, at the castle, then something must have happened to the Aurors who had planned to keep them safe. "Where is Kingsley?”

"I expect that Burke has led him and his team on somewhat of a wild ghost chase.”

“Burke? The Metamorphmagus?”

“Loken infiltrated the Auror office almost a year ago, has been passing information ever since. You know that, though,” Olivia said. “You told me about it, remember? That night you came to the Department of Mysteries.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you trusted a stranger so easily, after ‘everything that’s happened’.”

“Now, Olivia. We should be grateful that young Artemis was so generous in giving you that information. After all, if she had not, Burke would not have been able to frame another Auror and keep Shacklebolt’s trust, which would have been a great shame. I always think it useful to have friends in high places." Madam Buckthorn nodded her head in Professor Topsy's direction. "Take Topsy for example. Or your old ally, Patricia Rakepick. Both of them were so good at making sure situations were taken care of..." She smiled as Artemis' hand tightened on the hilt of her wand. "Now, now, there's no need to fret. No harm will come to your friend Shacklebolt, or any of your friends here."

“I don’t believe you,” said Artemis, he feet shifting into a duelling position.

"You should. We aren't interested in harming others unnecessarily. The Vaults have had their life, so no more need be taken. You can thank Rakepick for that, Rakepick and your dear little friend. What was her name?"

Artemis narrowed her her eyes and pursed her lips tight together. She wouldn't allow these people to say Rowan's name. They didn't deserve it.

"Khanna," Topsy said, his words almost completely clear. "Rowan Khanna."

"Of course. Thanks to Rowan Khanna, the Vaults are yours to open, Miss Hexley. Now all you need do is lead us to them."

"I'm not leading you anywhere," Artemis growled.

"You don't have a choice," said Olivia Green. "Your brother made sure of that the moment he put himself in Azkaban, as did you, when you picked up that prophecy. You have to lead us."

"No, I don't," Artemis raised her chin and stared defiantly at Olivia. "The prophecy says I have to lead a circle. I already have one, right here. I don't need you, and I don't want you."

"Ah," said Madam Buckthorn. "That complicates things."

Artemis shrugged. "Not really. It's simple. I lead my friends to the Cursed Vault, we open it, and you lot bugger off. Pretty easy to understand."

"I do understand, Miss Hexley, but what you don't understand is that my previous comment about not needing to hurt any of your friends was based on the assumption that they would not get in our way. You will lead the Cabal to the Vault, and not your little friends, or there will be a conflict, which we will win."

"We'll see about that," said a voice - Merula's voice - from beside Artemis. She was staring at her aunt with open revulsion, her hand trembling slightly as she gripped her wand with white knuckles. "Confringo!"

A jet of bright orange light burst out of Merula's wand and soared through the air in the direction of Madam Buckthorn. It looked like the curse might hit her, but she raised her hand and waved it once, deflecting the light before it could do any damage. But Merula had cast the first curse, and now more were following, as one by one, the CIrcle of Khanna turned their wands on the Cabal.

Battle had commenced. Tulip's father was duelling against the combined forces of his own daughter, Barnaby, Tonks, and Andre. Madam Buckthorn was up against Merula, Talbott, Ismelda, Jae, and Chiara. Topsy was fighting Ben, Liz, Diego, and Badeea; whilst Artemis joined Bill, Charlie, and Penny as they fought against Olivia Green.

The Circle of Khanna outnumbered the Ronde in terms of numbers, but each member of the Circle only had one wand, and just as Rakepick had known how to cast spells without one, so too did the rest of the Cabal. Despite seeming to have the advantage, the Circle found themselves having to fight tooth and nail to keep up with the force of the spells the Cabal were throwing their way.

With Olivia not using a wand to cast her spells, Artemis was finding it hard to predict which spells her opponent would use, and at whom. It was making it harder to counter every move, and her companions did not have the advantage of her Legilimency.

As Artemis dodged a spell issued from Olivia’s wand, Charlie pulled Penny out of the way of a sudden explosion caused by the snapping of Olivia’s fingers. Olivia’s lips curved into a smile that was more like a snarl, and she cast another curse with her wand in Charlie's direction.

Bill quickly cast a shield charm to protect his brother, exposing the side of his torso as he leapt to Charlie's defence. Olivia's free hand reached out and she clenched her fist, and Bill let out a cry of pain, his own hand reaching for his ribcage. Her nostrils flaring, Artemis volleyed her own curse in Olivia's direction, but Olivia pushed her hand forward, palm first, and the light from Artemis' wand stopped in mid-air and changed direction so that it shot straight back at her.

"Protego!"

A deep, rumbling shout echoed across the courtyard, and black wizard in deep purple robes entered the fray, his wand arching gracefully through the air, leaving a shield of silver behind it. Kingsley's shield charm hung in the air in front of Artemis, bursting into fractals as Artemis' returned curse hit it in the centre.

The Circle of Khanna’s luck had changed; they had reinforcements. From the cliff steps, more Aurors were appearing: Moody, Scrimgeour, Proudfoot and Savage, and Dawlish, his arm no longer in a bandage. And from the castle, too, more adults were joining the scene: Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Snape, and Sprout; Hagrid and Professor Kettleburn; and Madams Pomfrey and Hooch were all running out from the entrance hall.

The courtyard was no longer in shadow, instead it was alight with the flashes and beams of spells and curses as the Circle of Khanna, the teachers, and the Aurors combined forces to battle the Cabal.

Kingsley shot another spell in Olivia's direction before pulling Artemis into the cloisters.

"What took you so long?" Artemis asked him, and he shook his head.

"We were each watching an entrance of the castle," he told her. "A distress signal went up, so we followed the call, but it was a false alarm. When we saw the flashes from up here, we realised it wasn’t a false alarm at all, but a distraction.”

"That’s because you never really caught the informant. It was Burke, the Metamorphmagus," Artemis said. "He's been in disguise as one of the Aurors all along. He's here."

Kingsley frowned and looked out of the cloisters at the battle that was still going strong in the courtyard. His eyes scanned the scene, before settling in the far corner.

"Dawlish," he muttered. "Of course."

Artemis looked out and saw that Kingley was right. Dawlish had disappeared from the scene, and in his place was a wizard with dark cropped hair and a sardonic looking expression, currently mid-duel with Tonks.

"What do you think he’s done with the real-"

"I dread to think," said Kingsley, his eyes still on the scene. "Can they all do wandless magic?"

"Yeah."

"Then we'll need all the fighters we can spare."

"We've all been practising duelling. We can all stay and fight," said Artemis, but as the words came out of her mouth, she realised that they weren’t true. “Except… Well, we still need to get to the Vault. That’s why we’re all here.”

Kingsley frowned. “How many people do you need to take with you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“In which case, Tiny, I want you to forget about this fight. You have your own to deal with. Run, take as many of your friends as you can without drawing too much attention to yourself, and get down to that lakeshore."

"But-"

"The rest of us can deal with the Cabal, you have to be the one to open the Cursed Vaults. Go. Run."

Artemis took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around Kingsley's waist before nodding her head and springing into action. She jumped out of the cloisters and weaved her way through the fighters, dodging and ducking and deflecting curses as she went, wondering how many of her friends she could pull away from the battle without either alerting the Cabal to their absence or giving them an advantage in the fight.

In the end, she managed to get eight members of the Circle of Khanna to follow her away from the courtyard and down the winding cliff path stairs: Bill, Penny, Tonks, Charlie, Ben, Merula, Barnaby, and Tulip.

“Where are we going?” Penny asked breathlessly, as Artemis led the group down towards the lakeshore.

“To the Vault,” replied Artemis. "We have to get to that Vault and finish this. Now."

"What about the others?"

"Kingsley said more fighters were needed and that we couldn't draw too much attention to ourselves. This is the only way.”

“But-”

“Hexley is right,” Merula said. “We’ve come this far. We can’t let them win. The Cabal or the Cursed Vaults.”

They reached the bottom of the cliffs, and paused on the pebbled shore of the Black Lake. The atmosphere far quieter than it had been in the courtyard, though the noise of the fight could still be heard in the distance, and the night sky was still lit up with curses which from here looked almost like the fireworks that had been set off the night Jacob had left home, all those years ago. Artemis took a deep breath of the cool night air.

"They'll be okay," said Bill, smiling weakly at Artemis. "I taught them well last year."

Despite his comment actually reassuring her, Artemis rolled her eyes at him. She looked back at the lake. The surface of the water was completely still, as if no horrors lay in its depths. But they did, she knew that better than anyone.

Artemis reached into her pocket and pulled out a sprig of Gillyweed, and the others followed suit. Tonks made eye contact with her and grinned.

"Bottoms up, right?"

#artemis hexley #hogwarts mystery #hphm fic #hphm #the hexley saga #bill weasley #penny haywood #nymphadora tonks #chiara lobosca #merula snyde #charlie weasley #tulip kasaru #barnaby lee #ben copper #kingsley shacklebolt #the cabal #cursed vaults #r

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