So a little birdie told me if I had an itch to scratch (a kastle prompt) you were the person to go to? So here's my shot in the dark. Karen & Frank are caught by some gangster or something and the bad guy is smart hurting Karen to get info outta frank (info frank actually doesn't have)
I’m sorry for the delay, anon! I do have something - I dug up something old and finished it just for you :) It’s more working with the prompt, rather than the direct scene itself - but I hope you still like it!
Frank finds Karen trussed up in the back of a van in Queens.
really remember much about how.
There is skin crammed under his fingernails and blood slopped down his front.
He is panting, braced somehow against the bumper with a knife in his hand but
all he can see, all he remembers, is the expression on her pale, dirty face
when he’d pulled open the door.
himself into the back. His left leg threatens to crumple beneath him, trembling
and wobbly and weak as shit but he makes it in and he kneels himself before
her, taking the knife to the zip ties.
to go carefully, slow. He doesn’t know what they’ve done to her. He knows it
only been a few hours, he knows that they’re dead; he knows that he slaughtered them but he doesn’t know what they’ve done and that thought lodges itself in
that thick skull of his, and it scares him more than anything.
to cut the zip ties, but his hands, they just won’t stop shaking.
She’s pushed herself up to meet him. She moves, presses against
the knife, and she’s saying something, saying his name, he thinks – but then the
ties around her ankles give and he has an armful of warm, alive, Karen Page.
It’s jarring, the sudden, intimate touch. Her head tucks beneath
his chin, her arms like steel bands around his chest. He breathes her in, the
smell of her shampoo and the dirt and the sweat and when he absorbs that
through the haze of his heartbeat and the fear he drops the knife and holds her
against him, tight.
“Frank,” he hears
her saying, finally, through the storm in his head. “Frank. Frank.”
okay,” he mumbles, his hands following a pattern down her back. It’s automatic,
familiar. He feels her shake in his arms, although whether she’s crying or
laughing, he can’t really tell.
Eventually, after a second or a lifetime, she pulls away and tugs
him from the van. They half-fall out of it and further into the alley, away
from the bodies, her legs wobbly from restricted circulation. As he steadies
her he can see the welts left around her wrists, the bruise just visible beneath
the sleeve of her blouse. He seems to get stuck again on that, a moment.
There is a rushing sound in his ears. It’s blood, he thinks;
it’s familiar, it’s his state of calm, the one that’s carried him through his
wars and he needs it now, because this isn’t done, it isn’t close to fucking
She’s asking him another question.
ok? Are you hurt?”
back at her. She’s moved closer. She’s waiting for a response, he remembers.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah,” he manages, after a moment. “I’m fine. You,
how are you? Did they-?”
“I can handle it.”
He finds himself laughing. She could, yeah, she had a way
of dealing with shit even when it scared the hell out of her, when she should
be running the other way. He’s fished her out of a van and the evidence of what
he’s had to do is all around them and she’s still looking at him, trying to
get a hold of his gaze.
panting, still, and there’s blood blotched on her blouse - from him, he
realises, and he’s got blood on her face too. She’s pale and trembling. Christ,
she’s still here.
The itch is still there too. It’s growing stronger: it’s not
finished, Frank. This is not
He hears a
groan from back towards the van. He’d left one of them alive; he’d forgotten
“Down the street,” he
croaks, forcing the air through his throat. It feels like he hasn’t spoken in a
week. She frowns at the non-sequitur, still trying to catch his eye, to read
him, but he looks away. He nods down the street. She needs to get out of here. “Red truck, scratch down the left side. Lie
low with a friend a while, alright?”
He swipes at his nose,
fishing his keys from his pocket, and she doesn’t
“Without you?” she
laughs, but it’s forced, hoarse, and her mouth tightens after it. “Frank,” she
tries again. “It’s over. It’s-”
He cuts through her tumble of words. “Not
over. I need – information. I’m going to get it.”
Her eyes flick back towards the van
almost unwillingly, and her expression changes, a cycle of emotions that pass
too fast to read. “Then I’ll stay until you get it. We’ll bring one of them with
us. We’ll go through it together, but Frank-”
I don’t want to lose you again,
she doesn’t say, but he hears it anyway.
He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. He starts
to get it; she needs him now, needs him to be present, but he, he’s got to see
this through, he needs to see
“What do you think is going to happen here,” he states, and it’s
not a question. She understands what he means. Of course she does. She hardly flinches,
though, and he’s not sure if that’s new or not, or if that’s something that’s
broken in her, that he helped take apart, all of those months ago
in the woods.
“Frank.” She says his
name again. Without the excuses, the attempted reasoning: simple, honest emotion. “Please.”
remembers the last time. His little girl, she asked him, she fastened herself
to his hand and pulled him towards her room and she didn’t care that she wasn’t
twelve anymore, she waved that book in his face and she begged him to come with
and almosts. He almost did it. Lisa almost made it. Karen Page almost didn’t.
at Karen, dumbly, and his words fail him.
“You need to go.” He manages, eventually. He’s repeating
himself. He doesn’t know what else to say.
She looks at him another long moment. There’s that multitude of
emotion crossing her features – too many for him to read, but
maybe something in his voice gets to her because she takes the keys from him
with shaking fingers, and then she leaves.
He looks at his hands. He clenches them, watching the way the
knuckles stretch the skin, before he fetches the knife and strides back
to the alley mouth. He glances back down the street when he reaches it,
checking, but Karen is gone from sight already. Good. That’s, good.
groan, weaker now. The survivor, half-slumped over the bumper with his hands
pressed over his ribs and when he turns towards it the groan becomes that
little more strained, that little more panicked. Good - he steps forward, he
takes it slow, each step calm and precise and the survivor tries to scramble
away. It’s one of the ones that had been in the back with her, that had got the
knife and not the bullet. Frank feels that chill sink back into place.
of shit was not going to last long. The man’s breathing is already a bit wet; he
must’ve nicked his lung earlier, but they didn’t need much time, did they?
the van now and the man slip-slides onto the floor, squeaking as he lands – he has
cracked ribs as well, Frank could use that. The man tries to pull a knife and he
kicks it away and stomps on his sternum, feeling good when he hears the scream.
his knee into the man’s chest and bends down, close enough to see the whites of
his eyes reflected in the knife.
The schism is slowing growing smaller. Oliver can no longer separate Oliver Queen and The Arrow. He can no longer see the difference between the man and the mask. This is exactly where we need him to go. No more separation. The two selves must become one. Oliver can only do that after he faces the darkest parts of himself and no longer hides from it. He’ll never really see the truth of who he is, until faces what he fears most… and lets it go. There is no forgiveness until Oliver forgives himself.
Then he’ll be ready to be something else… someone else. He’ll be ready to be Oliver Queen. The Green Arrow won’t represent the monster inside, but the man. The Green Arrow will be the very best parts of Oliver because the two men will be one in the same.
The darkness and light will swirl into one and Oliver will no longer fear himself. He’ll no longer fear anything at all.
And that’s when he’ll be the man Robert Queen always believed he could be.
I think one of the biggest fails this season has been the separation of Snow & David via sleeping curse and the continuous separation of Emma and Killian. These two couples are the lynchpins of the show and it really weakens the storytelling to split these couples rather than have them working together as a team.
@wingedlioness made a great post a few weeks ago about the lack of CS teamwork this season.
Perhaps the lack of Snowing & CS teamwork wouldn’t be so noticeable if there were other groupings that worked as well together, but except for a rare Captain Charming episode, it’s been nothing more than Snow coddling Regina or Emma trying to undo Regina’s mess caused by this ridiculous split queen arc. Regina isn’t written to be part of a team and constantly trying to make her one weakens the story.
I’ve watched that bit I lost when my stream crashed last night and now I’m intrigued…
The Queen wasn’t sent back in time. She had another chance with wish!Robin and that was glorious. But, at the same time, there’s something weird in all this…
Will she have a Snow White type of life now that she’s living in a realm where its king is hunting her down for killing Snow and Charming? Even though she wasn’t directly responsible for it?
Because it felt super weird that no one reacted to her when she walked into the tavern, wearing that dress and all. Regina did and all hell broke loose, but the Queen does the same and no one reacts? That was strange, tbh…
Still, I’m so happy that she had the chance to start over and see for herself what a life with love and happiness is like. Seriously, that was freaking fantastic! My Evil Regal heart is still so happy, omg!
Also, I liked that they used the info about her to give some perspective to Hook. I mean, this goes back to that convo they had at the Jolly Roger in S3, doesn’t it?
Anyway, I’m super happy but don’t kid yourselves, folks… this is not a fix or anything, Robin’s death was still unnecessary to get to this point, so u_u
"he appears to have developed a spiteful preteen sense of rebellion in the opposite direction from where most rebellions take kids" - Regina Flask is a privateer, with her Letter of Marque and Reprisal issued in the name of the Queen under Crescian admiralty law. There is nothing lawless about Regina. So Jivi and Sette come from the opposite sides of the law. Did Jivi's preteen rebellion actually take him from sailor to landlubber?
Ever done much reading up on privateers? They may have been state sanctioned but precious few of them were decent people. They were pirates in everything but their title - and that title meant precisely squat if you were on the wrong side of their cannons.
Captain Flask is a thug in the employ of the state; a murderer who sails under the Crescian standard because it ironically frees her from Crescian control. Once she’s out of sight of land, Regina is Queen. And she ain’t a benevolent one.
Jivi and Sette have a lot in common but they’ve definitely reacted differently to their parents. Sette embraces the Frummagem way but Jivi wants something else. So does Matty.
Thoughts on the swan queen hug? I truly wasn't expecting it, well, ever. It did make me squeal all of a sudden, though.
Not currently behind a computer, but if you scroll down a bit on my blog you should find the post I made after the sneak peek came out. I would like to add that Snow’s reaction could also be less positive than I described there, considering how hard she is pushing both Emma and now also Killian. She may see the love between Emma and Regina and consider it a threat to the plans she has for her daughter’s dream wedding.
If you just want my thoughts on the first layer, that’s probably all I’ll say about it… If you get the OperationOUT meta reading, though, I have half a book coming up, because it was so significant.
Hey, I'm someone considering joining this group for the first time as Queen Ismaire, but I was just wondering... Since you seem to have so many headcannons surrounding your character's relationship with her... What would happen if I suddenly jumped in with a queen who doesn't exactly fit your idea of her? I wouldn't want to upset what's already been established. I could just pick someone else if it would be too much trouble. I'm also considering Myhrr, Neimi, or Natasha.
ooc; Man, I wish I could answer this on private but–if one ever goes through my backlog of Ismaire/Gerik, you’ll find it tagged with ‘#self indulgent bullshit’. Because it’s mostly that. A late-night shower-thought of a crack-ship that I suddenly had way too many feels for. That thing you said ironically and then kept saying and somehow stopped saying ironically. It’s less ‘established’ and more ‘Gerik-mun is a filthy badger with thirst’, ha ha.
What would happen–as with any headcanon-ing in FERP where an untaken muse is involved–is that previously existing HCs would be re-negotiated or rescinded as discussed. Which is something I knew would be a possibility and am willing to do with you (as any of us would be)!
tl;dr - we’d be happy to have you as any of the above. ;O Niche characters are cool to play.
Okay I have been searching High and low for a specific story. Its a story that starts off from Draco and Hermione's daughter's position (I think her name is Cassie or Lyra) and the whole thing takes place in America. Harry and Lucius end up out there finding them and trying to convince them to come back to England. Can you help me find it??? I could have sworn I found it the other day and then I lost it.