#cs ff angst

[thesaviorshappyending]

Home - 5x22 CS

First time writing anything remotely fanfic-ish, so suggestions on how to improve would be much welcomed

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She stood by the dark pine casket, harsh, silent tears racing each-other down her pale face. She had never been the crying type, learning from a young age, after been tossed from home to home, that crying made you weak. Emma Swan, was not weak.

Until now.

How could she of been so wrong? She’d gone to the Underworld, never second guessing her plan to bring him back. Leaving him had been like stabbing herself with a knife - burying him had just be twisting it.

She stood for what could of been hours, staring at the row of finely crafted arrows, her emotions storming with feelings of guilt and sorrow, for everything since the cold night she plunged that cursed dagger into the dark abyss.

Suddenly, her eyes were filled with light, blinding her for just a mere moment, but just as soon as it had come, it was gone. She stood cautiously, her eyes sweeping the empty cemetery in front of her, searching for source of the sudden brightness.

“Swan?”

She whipped round, rain dripping down her forehead, suddenly conscious to be caught teary eyed in front of anyone (except maybe her mother). What she saw could’ve frozen time.

Next thing she knew, she was buried in his arms, littering kisses across his soft, supple cheeks.

He was home. They were home.

[bellomi-clarke]

You can come home (Straight into my arms) 1/2

A/N- Hey. I wanted to write a REALLLY short drabble because I was having soo many emotions! I probably should've posted this as one part, but I'm really lazy and didn't want to write pt 2 right now because I'm tired..... that's literally the only reason. <3

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“You can come home, you just have to forgive yourself. The thing is, no matter how many times I tell you, or anybody else does, you have to do it yourself.”

AO3 FF

She had stormed off. She tended to do that a lot, when it came to him. He tended to turn her back into a temperamental teenager, and she has enough of that as it is now with Henry. She needs to get a grip on herself, go back and talk to him, but.

But she damn well doesn’t want to. If she wants to run away and be a temperamental teenager, then screw her. She deserves it after the day, the year, the life she’s had.

So she stormed off, jumped into the bug, and drove. Just, drove.

Straight to the overlook. She sat in her car for a while, before it became too claustrophobic and she had to get out. She opened her door, and just put one foot in front of the other, not even bothering to shut the bugs door. She just walked, got lost in the trees and the smells and the grass and the wind and her thoughts. Got lost in life.

She had lost track of how long she’d been walking, but she knew that it must’ve been a long time, the sun was coming up, and it had just gone down whenever she left. She should probably go back, they were probably be looking for her.

He wasn’t. She knew he wouldn’t be. He made that clear whenever he stood against her for his brother. But…

She also understood that. Because she would’ve done the same if Liam had tried to tell her that Killian had been lying to her. She would have had that same blind faith that Killian had for Liam. She understood. She understood that she’d have to let him go if he wanted to go. She couldn’t stop him, she loved him too much to try to influence his actions. She would let him go, because she loved him, and she’d rather break her own heart than his.

She turned around and there he stood, watching her and standing very self-consciously. He gave her his signature smirk when she took a surprised step back, even if it was a bit pained and unsure. “Hello, Love.”

[mryddinwilt]

Chinx Hiatus Prompt Challenge: Prompt 2

A fun little drabble to accompany this picture for seastarved's super fun Hiatus Prompt Challenge! This one was a lot harder for me.... 

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Emma watched, fascinated as Killian filed his hook. He sat, a smug smile on his face as the metal met metal in a scraping sound that was almost therapeutic in it's rhythm. It had never occurred to Emma that the hook required any kind of maintenance, she thought of it as a part of him and not a separate thing in need of sharpening and polishing. 

"You sure enjoy polishing that thing." she commented 

He shot her a devilish grin. "By thing I assume you mean my hook." 

Emma rolled her eyes but was thankful he hadn't brought up his other attachments. "You know what I mean." 

"Aye I do lass." He replied his attention back on his hook. as he changed the angle of the file. Emma watched him for a few silent moments, caught by the changes in Killian. Since they had started-whatever it was they had started- Killian's innuendo had almost disappeared and while Emma sometimes missed her lewd pirate she was grateful he was letting her see behind his mask. More often they talked about their pasts and Emma had shared so much it sometimes scared her. It was a strange and casual intimacy that continued to surprise her everyday. Perhaps that was why she finally asked the question that had always bothered her, even as a child. 

"Why did you choose a hook?" 

Killian stopped his filing to look up at her with a furrowed brow. "Excuse me?"

"It's just." she continued. "When I was a kid I always wondered why Captain Hook didn't choose a dagger or a wooden hand or something else. Why a hook?" 

"Ah." Killian scratched behind his ear as he weighed his answer. Emma noticed the way his jaw clenched and quickly backpedaled. 

"I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me if it's uncomfortable." 

Emma moved to get off the bed but Killian's hand reached for hers and she stilled.

"No love. I would like to tell you." He shot her a small smile. "You are right I could have chosen something else to replace my hand. Although a hook is quite useful in a fight it does have it's draw backs. That day when the Crocodile took my hand …" He sighed and his eyes drifted away from her face as he lost himself in a memory. Emma felt herself tense. She hadn't meant for him to share this part of himself. She didn't know the full story but she knew that Killian lost his hand in the same fight that took Milah. Though they had talked of many things Milah was the one topic Emma had never broached; not since the beanstalk when her insensitive prodding had shut him down so completely. She was of course curious about the woman that had taught him how to be generous and thoughtful both in and out of the bedroom. The woman that he had loved first and so desperately. But Killian never spoke of her and so she had never asked. 

Killian began speaking again. "He had killed her and taken my hand. Her body was growing cold on the deck and I was so enraged I grabbed the first sharp thing I could find. I plunged it into his chest. But it did nothing. He laughed at me with the hook just sitting there. And I vowed I would find a way to kill him. He disappeared in a cloud of smoke and the hook fell to the deck. When I picked it up I promised myself that when I finally killed him I would use that hook to finish the job." Killian let out a soft chuckle as he seemed to come back from his memory. "And so I did though it took a lot longer than I ever imagined and it wasn't exactly permanent." He stared down at his hook in thought. 

Emma had a flash of a murderous Hook in New York City, Gold crumpled and bleeding beneath him, his hook rising up to plunge into his chest a second time. For the first time Emma saw his hook not as some absurd (but deadly) toy that he played with but as he probably saw it, a symbol of his revenge, a symbol of his promise to avenge Milah's death. A revenge he had given up when he had turned his ship around and pledged himself to help her and save Henry. Warmth and sympathy bubbled in her chest and she reached out to him.  She grasped his hook firmly. He looked up, startled from his thoughts. She pulled him to her and kissed him deeply, reverently, leaving them both breathless. 

"Thank you for telling me." she sighed as they rested their foreheads together. 

"You're welcome love." he replied with a nip at her lips. "Anything you want to know you have only to ask. My life is an open book."