#parent for hire

[exhaustedpirate]

parent for hire

finally, the next instalment of this adventure! only another one to go (and an epilogue)! once more, major thanks to @kmomof4 for being the best beta!

Chapter Six - Camelot

word count: 9,372 words 

rating: Teen and Up

tag list: @cocohook38 ; @bluewildcatfanatic ; @piraterefrigerator ; @sotangledupinit ; @booksteaandtoomuchtv ; @teamhook

read on AO3 | prologue | one | two | three | four | five (1) | five (2) | five (3)

They were summoned to the throne room the next morning. There had been new clothes laid out in their room and a bath prepared. Killian chose to explain it with magic and not think about the fact that there had possibly been someone in the room without him noticing.

Their bags had been delivered to their room the night prior and he was happy to note that their things were all present and accounted for. There wasn’t much he needed from it except for the drawing of his brother and his compass - a gift from Nemo. And his sword, of course.

Emma and her parents were already waiting for them in the throne room. Emma looked as beautiful as she had before. Her hair had been pulled away from her face, a blue leather vest and a white shirt she wore fit her like a glove, and the dark trousers complemented her form. 

The three seemed deep in conversation, and the royals’ frowns told him that they weren’t happy with the course of it. He wasn’t a betting man anymore but he would wager he knew the subject.

“Even before we appeared on the bank of Lake Nostos, we promised we wouldn’t leave you again. We won’t go back on it now,” Snow tearfully explained.

“You can’t go. You said last night that you were ready to be the people’s ruler again. You have to stay here.” Emma’s tone had a hint of panic, of fear. “This is my mission, I need to go.”

“We can’t change your mind?” David almost begged. “We only just got you back…”

Emma took a deep breath. “I need to do this.”

The determination in her eyes blazed like fire and Killian watched as Snow looked at David,  and gripped his hand in a tight grip, an entire conversation being held within their gazes. They turned watering eyes and sad smiles on their daughter, and Killian thought his heart would break.

“We know,” Snow said, her hand on Emma’s cheek. “You’re so grown, a hero in your own right.”

“I-I’m not-” Emma stuttered, her eyes shining in the morning light.

“You are,” David interrupted, pulling Emma and Snow to him for a tight hug.

Killian wondered how many years Emma had longed to be held this way, to be loved this way, and his heart went out to her while his mind traveled to the only parent he still had.

“Y-You don’t have to go, Emma.” Henry’s quiet voice next to him broke him away from his thoughts and the three-person hug in front of them as they finally noticed their audience. “You can stay. You should stay.”

His shaking voice had Killian’s hand tighten on his shoulder.

“Henry,” Emma kneeled in front of the boy, her hands cupping his cheeks. “I want to go with you. I want to make sure you’ll be safe.”

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Henry.” Snow’s voice shook just as much as the boy’s. “This family will always find each other.”

Snow stood close by, her hand back in her husband’s and he nodded. “There have been many times when Snow and I were separated from each other but we still held on to hope.”

“We were separated from our daughter all those years ago, but we had hope that we’d see her again,” Snow added with a watery smile. 

“And look where we are now,” David finished.

“Never lose hope, Henry. Even the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing.”

Henry nodded, tears running down his cheeks but a hopeful smile on his lips. He threw himself at Emma, burying his face on her neck as they both held on tight to each other. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Hope. 

Maybe they were on to something.

After all, it was abundantly clear to him how much his life had changed ever since he started having hope.

David cleared his throat and Killian took the distraction to wipe away the tears that had escaped down his cheeks. “Since you’re off on an adventure, I wanted to give you guys something.” He gestured with his head towards the throne at the end of the room.

Henry and Emma followed him holding on to each other’s hands. Killian made to follow, when a hand on his chest stopped him. Looking down, he saw Snow’s watery eyes hiding a fire behind them. Emma’s fire.

“I have something important to ask of you.”

Killian nodded. “Of course, your Majesty.”

“That’s my daughter.” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat. “That’s my daughter and I want her back in my arms. I am prepared to give you anything you wish to protect her and make sure she lives. Gold. Jewels. Anything.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline the offer, Your Majesty.” 

“What?” Her eyes were wide open with shock, her lips parted.

“You see…” He trailed away for a moment, his smile towards her nothing like his usual smirk, there was too much swirling through his chest to allow for such arrogance. “I have no need for your gold or your jewels. All I need is for Emma to be safe.” He couldn’t help the way his eyes drifted to her, the way she smiled at her father, the way she shined.

When he looked back at the Queen, she was smiling, a soft smile that lit up her eyes. 

“You love her, don’t you?”

Killian looked away, scratching behind his ear. Was it so obvious?

“I’m starting to,” he confessed. “It creeps up on you, doesn’t it?”

Snow laughed and he couldn’t help but smile. 

“It does, yes.” She nodded, watching him for a few seconds and sobering up. “When we left the castle yest- I mean, that day, we had hope that we’d see her again, yes, but I also had hope that, even if we didn’t, she’d be loved. She’d be okay.”

The Queen cleared her throat, trying to stave off the swelling sadness.

“She told us it wasn’t anything like I’d hoped. I regret that we weren’t able to give her that happiness and love.” She took a deep shaky breath. “But she’s strong. She pushed through and she became more than we ever expected. Seeing the way you and Henry love her, makes it all a little easier. Thank you.”

“Believe me, Your Majesty, loving them is, without a doubt, the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

The smile on his face melted into shock by the Queen’s tight embrace around him. He hadn’t felt such motherly affection in years. His arms went around her slowly, his eyes closing.

“Killian, look what I have!”

Henry’s call broke their hug, Snow grabbing onto his arms to look at him with a smile. He could only smile back and let her hope fill him. Killian cleared his throat.

“What do you have, lad?” 

“A knife!”

“What?!” In a flash, Killian’s smile again turned into shock as he strode over to them.

“It’s not a knife, Henry. It’s a dagger,” David corrected, a smile on his face.

“Why does he even have a dagger?” 

“For protection,” David answered like it was obvious. “But only as a last resource, remember?”

“Yeah!” Henry’s reassurance didn’t mean much when the boy was pretending that he was in an imaginary fight with his dagger.

“Henry?” David crossed his arms on his chest and raised an eyebrow.

Henry looked up quickly, his eyes wide and mouth agape before nodding. “Right, last resource.” Sheepishly, the boy sheathed the dagger on the new scabbard on his belt. “Look, Snow. Look at my dagger!”

Despite his concern over the boy, he guessed David was right, Henry should be able to defend himself without his magic. Just the thought of the boy in danger, however… Killian didn’t want to consider it. He looked away to find Emma’s attention on the sword in her hands.

It looked nothing like her old one. This one looked heavier - more of a royal’s sword than a pirate’s, he guessed. The hilt was golden and the cross-guard was curved, a masterful build. 

“Looks like a perfect fit, don’t you think?” David asked, having followed his gaze, a look of pride in his eyes.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Since we can’t go with you, I want to know you’ll have a piece of me with you. To help you.” David’s voice was shaky despite his best efforts.

“Thank you.” Emma’s voice matched her father’s as she smiled back. She sheathed the sword on the equally detailed scabbard on her belt.

“Killian!” Henry called as he approached them with Snow. “Have you told them where we’re headed next?”

“No, lad.” He smiled. “I thought you’d want to do the honors.”

“So, last night, Killian checked Cygnus. You know, the star we’re following.” Henry looked between them and, like the avid listeners they were, they nodded. “It’s telling us to go West, to Ca-”

“I’m glad you’re all here.” There was a flash of blue magic after the sound of the Blue Fairy’s voice and Killian couldn’t help the surge of annoyance that rose in him at her presence and interruption.

“Is there something wrong?” Snow asked with a confused frown.

“No, no, I’m here to open a portal for Emma and the Truest Believer,” she answered matter-of-factly. “They’ll be heading to Camelot.”

Henry deflated next to him and Killian frowned. “How do you know that?” 

The Blue Fairy sighed. “Camelot is where Merlin will be waiting for the Truest Believer, to fulfill the prophecy.”

“What about Avalon?” Emma asked, taking a step forward. “I’m supposed to take Henry there.”

“Avalon is a myth, dear. It doesn’t exist. It’s merely a sailor’s tale.” Her tone was patronizing as she glanced unimpressed at Killian. 

“Tinkerbell told me that the prophecy said that’s where I’m supposed to take Henry.”

“You should know better than to listen to that girl. She has disgraced her role as a fairy and  has no business interpreting the prophecy.” 

Emma frowned at the fairy’s haughty and indifferent tone. He agreed with the sentiment. Killian watched as Henry took a deep breath and approached the fairy. He couldn’t help the step he took towards the boy, the instinct to protect rising fiercely in him, stopped only by Emma’s reassuring hand on his arm.

“Blue, I need to-”

“Ah, yes, Henry, I have something for you,” the fairy interrupted.

His face lit up expectantly but Killian had already learned to expect the worse from her. 

“Tiger Lily asked me to give you this.” In her hand was a vial of sparkly dust. “It's fairy dust.” 

Henry frowned as he reached up to take the vial, only for the Blue Fairy to pull it from his reach.

“I was against giving this to you, given your age, inexperience, and its power, but she was adamant that you have it. Tiger Lily is a… special fairy, and she knows how to get her point across.” The frown on her face told Killian there was more she was leaving out of the explanation, but given how secretive the fairies were - and the Blue Fairy in particular - he doubted any of them would ever know what it was. The fairy raised her eyebrow expectantly. “She assured me that you’d use it wisely.”

“Of course, you can trust me.” The boy clutched the vial carefully, reverently. “Did she say anything else?”

“No.”

Henry cleared his throat. “Then maybe you can answer some of my questions.” Killian was proud of his strong tone but the Blue Fairy’s unchanged expression didn’t give him hope that she’d answer.

“No time for that.” Blue waved him away and the boy’s crestfallen expression was heartbreaking. She turned to the others. “Say your goodbyes quickly and I’ll open the portal.”

As soon as Henry got close enough, Killian pulled him close. “I thought they cared.” The boy’s whisper had him tightening his embrace.

Pulling away, Killian caressed the boy’s cheek before patting the hand still clutching the vial with his hook. “I think they still do, my boy.” 

Henry looked down and nodded slowly. “Yeah…”

Killian pulled the boy in for another tight embrace, his hand on the back of his head.

“Be careful.” Snow spoke behind them, her hands on Emma’s cheeks, her voice shaky. “Trust your companions and please, don’t do anything reckless.” 

“That might be hard, considering how much like your mot-” Snow gave David a silent glare, causing a watery smile to bloom on Emma’s face. “Like all your family you are.” 

Emma smiled wide. “I promise I’ll be safe.” She was the one to initiate the hug now, her eyes closed in happiness, her hands gripping her parents’ clothes. “I’ll be back.”

Henry and Killian watched as they slowly released each other and Snow placed a kiss on Emma’s forehead. There was an insistent throat clearing from behind them that Killian completely ignored but broke the peaceful moment between the other three.

Snow and David made their way to Killian and Henry next, David pulling Henry into a big hug that lifted the boy’s feet from the ground and made his giggles echo in the large room. Snow’s hand was on his arm with a reminder of his promise in her eyes. He nodded.

They switched next and while David’s handshake wasn’t as emotional as Snow’s hug, Killian still saw the emotion in the man’s eyes, pleading for the same promise the Queen asked of him. Killian tightened his grip on the man’s hand and nodded, an unspoken agreement between the two. Snow was peppering kisses all over Henry’s face making him laugh once more. That was definitely a good start to an adventure.

The Blue Fairy’s impatience grew too loud to ignore and they all turned to her.

“Now that you’re all done,” the fairy pointedly remarked, “it’s time to go.”

With a wave of her wand, a bright orange portal roared to life. 

“We love you, Emma,” Snow called over the noise of the portal.

“Come back to us,” David added.

Emma nodded vigorously, lips thinned in overwhelming emotion. She held onto Henry’s hand. Killian held on to the other as they approached the swirling portal. They all turned back to look at the royals they were leaving behind for one last glance.

Not waiting another moment to change their minds, they all crossed through the portal. 

---

The first thing that came to Killian’s mind once they came out on the other side was the lack of nausea. Which was a very happy and welcome reprieve.

Second thing was the silence. 

They stood in the middle of a pathway, stone walls standing tall in front of them. Killian turned around to an empty village. Houses were closed, streets were clear, shops were shut.

He was getting really tired of desolate kingdoms. 

But this silence was different. There were people here, he could feel it. Unlike Misthaven, there were no signs of disaster. People were just gone. Hidden.

“Another deserted kingdom?” Emma sighed, her voice quiet.

“It seems our little adventure has a theme.” 

“I feel something inside those doors,” Henry whispered, his finger pointed at two large wooden doors embedded into a tall stone wall.

“Last chance to turn back,” Killian teased, even with an anxious cadence to his voice.

Emma rolled her eyes with a hint of a smile while Henry chuckled before pulling the two adults towards the doors. Taking a deep breath, they pushed the doors open.

The doors gave way to a large courtyard lit by the midday sun. On the other side of the circle, stood a man in shining silver armor. His hair was dark and his terrible grin shone in the sunlight. Next to him, sat a woman. Hair as dark as the man’s but her expression spoke of an immense sadness, regret and fear, all the fight taken out of her.

“He told me you’d appear,” The man said, his voice echoing in the courtyard.

“Who are you?” Killian asked, standing in front of Henry who grabbed onto his sleeve.

“I’m King Arthur of Camelot and I’ll be taking the Heart of the Truest Believer from you.”

“Just you, mate?” Killian asked, a smirk on his face and eyebrow raised. “I have to say, I like our odds.”

Arthur’s grin widened before he whistled. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Suddenly, a large lion-like creature crashed into the courtyard - its mane and tail was made of fire and it was easily twice the size of an actual lion. Its roar shook the ground they stood on.

“You had to ask,” Emma grumbled next to him, unsheathing her sword. 

“At least it’s just one this time,” Henry commented from behind them.

Killian sighed in exasperation, shifting on his feet as he armed himself.

The creature sat next to the king, his fiery eyes on the three strangers. While Killian was a man of bravery, the creature’s size was enough to make him reconsider his initial plan.

“Alright, mate, we might have started on the wrong foot,” Killian started, trying for a disarming tone.

“Give me the Heart of the Truest Believer or I will take it from you. It's as simple as that, mate,” Arthur interrupted.

“Why do you want it so much?” Henry asked, taking a step forward. Both Killian and Emma stepped closer to the boy at Arthur’s hungry stare. He knew it was Henry.

“Why?! My kingdom is broken, and your heart will make it whole!”

“And you’d kill an innocent boy for your kingdom?!” Emma asked, angrily.

“Please, Arthur,” the woman next to him pleaded. “You don’t need to do this, we can still be happy.”

Killian watched as the madness in Arthur’s gaze eased, his eyes shifting from his queen to Henry. There was something hidden behind his eyes - recognition. A fast blur flew over them and he felt as if they were being watched, a tingle on the back of his neck. Any progress he thought they had made with Arthur seemed to shatter, a shadow shuttering his eyes once more.

“For years, I lived for Merlin’s prophecies!” Arthur shouted. “For years, I was mocked, ridiculed, for believing that I would be king! And when it finally happened, I’m given this, this broken kingdom! But with your heart, I will make it whole! Your heart will make me a king!”

He raised his hand then, the beast standing on four feet, its fire burning bright and angry.

“No more talking, the Heart is mine!” 

Without any further warning, the beast leapt forward, its thundering steps unsettling their footing. Henry threw his hands up, a strong magical shield stopping it in its tracks. The shield wouldn’t last long, with the beast charging it again and again.

“What are we going to do?” Killian asked, watching Henry.

“Arthur is controlling the monster,” Emma answered, focused on the creature. “We need to split up.”

“What?”

“Like we did in Arendelle,” Henry added, with obvious difficulty. The strain of holding the shield against the monster’s attacks was wearing on the boy.

“Henry and I will deal with this beast, you’ll get Arthur,” Emma delegated. “On three, Henry will lower the shield, I will hold the creature back while you run to Arthur. Ok?”

Killian nodded. “Be careful, both of you.” His eyes lingered on his companions, hope burgeoning in him for their safety. 

“You too,” Henry said, Emma nodding in agreement.

“Alright, one, two, three!” 

Henry’s shield came down followed immediately by a blast of white magic from Emma’s hands. The beast was thrown a few feet, letting Killian use that distraction to run towards where Arthur watched the fight. Expectedly, Arthur saw him coming and armed himself in time to block Killian’s attack. 

The beast focused back on the magic users. Killian kept an attentive ear on the battle next to him, hoping that he wouldn't hear Emma or Henry get hurt.

Killian and Arthur’s swords clanged in tune with the beast’s growls. Arthur didn’t fight like any royal he’d fought against before but then again, neither did Killian.

“Call off your beast,” Killian grunted, as he managed to lock Arthur’s sword against his. “You won’t win!”

Arthur’s determined gaze spoke louder than any words as they forced each other’s swords.

More than willing to play dirty, Killian kicked at Arthur’s leg, ruining his balance and causing him to fall. While on the floor, Arthur grinned even with Killian’s sword pointed at him. But he wasn’t looking at him. “I disagree.” 

Killian’s heart beat louder in his chest as he turned to look at his companions, even knowing how dangerous it was. Turning to them, Killian saw Henry laying down, looking terrified as the beast’s large paws pinned him to the ground. The beast bellowed loudly.

He couldn’t see Emma.

“Henry!” Killian called, turning towards the boy, blind with his need to protect him.

“Not so fast.” Arthur’s smug voice reminded him of his ongoing battle. “We are not done yet.”

He was glad for his years of practice as he managed to side-step a swipe at his head. A white glow and a loud whine had him hoping that Emma had managed to save Henry. Arthur’s angry expression confirmed it.

From then on, his mind was torn. Killian tried to focus on Arthur’s fighting techniques, on learning and avoiding them, but he knew most of his focus was elsewhere.

There was a lull in the magical battle next to him. A million scenarios paraded through his mind and he hated all of them. His sword swipes became faster and more intense and he relished the frown on Arthur’s brow. Their swords locked and he put all his strength behind it.

“Now!” Henry’s shout surprised them both and they turned at the same time.

Killian watched as Henry jumped to the side as Emma used her hands to direct water on top of the beast. Amazingly effective, the fire was extinguished and the beast fell to the ground, breathing heavily.

“No!” Arthur shouted and Killian quickly focused on stopping any thought of intervention by holding his sword against the king’s neck.

Unflinchingly, Henry approached the beast and fumbled with something on his clothing. From where he stood, Killian saw the sparkle of what he assumed was the fairy dust Henry had been gifted fall on the beast.

A blinding light encompassed the large monster. When it was gone, they were all surprised to find a man lying where the beast used to be. A man wearing a knight’s outfit. 

“Lancelot!” The queen called from where she had been sitting restlessly before rushing towards the waking man on the floor. “I thought you had left.”

Despite the distance between where he stood and the tender scene in front of him, Killian still heard the relieved sigh of the man. “I could never leave you, Gwen.” 

Never had he thought they would be reuniting long-lost lovers with this adventure, but then again, he never thought he’d be in this adventure in the first place.

His eyes immediately found Henry and Emma, who appeared unscathed even if tired. The relieved feeling in his heart was overwhelming, and he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Killian could only look at Henry’s proud and happy expression, at Emma’s hand on the boy’s shoulder, and her own look of joy. It looked simply beautiful on her. 

“Killian! Look out!” Henry called loudly and Killian moved just in time to miss Arthur’s swipe at his head. A bright white light threw Arthur against one of the stone columns, rendering him unconscious.

A word of gratitude was stopped on his tongue at Emma’s look of terror and Henry’s matching one. A breeze blew through the courtyard making him aware of a cold sting on his throat. He dropped his sword to touch the left side of his neck. When he looked at his hand, there was an alarming amount of blood on it for a mere scratch.

“Oh.” Killian’s knees wobbled under him as he knelt to the ground. In seconds, Emma and Henry were in front of him.

There was pressure on his neck. Emma’s green eyes came into focus and his heart shattered at the worry and fear in them. He wished they would never look that way.

“Killian?” Henry’s quiet call squeezed his heart. He had promised that Henry wouldn’t feel that way again. “Can’t you heal him, Emma?” 

Emma shut her eyes and he mourned the loss. There was only the sound of his labored breathing.

“I can’t!” Emma shouted in frustration. “Come on, Killian, stay with us!”

He wanted to tell her that he wouldn't leave - that he would never leave them - but the pressure on his throat stopped him. Their faces turned blurry and he could feel his mouth open and close, wanting to tell him that it was okay, that all that mattered was that they were okay. That he loved them.

Emma’s face became even more blurry as she shook her head.

“No.” Her voice sounded far away but never more clear. “We are not losing you, not now, not ever.” He felt her deep breath in his own chest.

The warmth on his hand disappeared and Killian watched as Emma grabbed Henry’s hand and placed it over hers on his neck. “We’ll do this together, like we’ve done everything so far. What do you say, kid?”

Killian could hear the desperation in her voice and he wondered if Henry could hear it too. The pressure on his neck grew and he was finally able to take a deep breath.

“Let’s do this.” Henry’s voice was less confident than he no doubt intended, too wrapped in despair, but it didn’t make Killian trust him any less.

There was a sudden burning feeling on his throat and he howled in pain. He felt as though his wound was being cauterized from the inside. There was a tight grip on his arms, barely felt over the pain. 

He remembered the way Nemo held his only hand as the blurry face of a shipmate burned his stump. He remembered wanting it to stop, wanting everything to stop, wanting the peace and quiet of death. He remembered the way he held onto revenge when he woke up days later. 

This pain, however, he bore it, cherished it, welcomed it because he knew that it would allow him to live. It would allow him to be okay. It would allow him to see Emma and Henry again.

“Killian?” 

It did.

His eyes fluttered open to find the worried faces of his companions, his family. Killian only had a second to witness the look of relief and happiness on Henry’s face before the boy threw himself against him in a tight hug, the feeling of holding the boy in his arms better than any magical remedy.

With his arms wrapped around the boy, he finally looked at Emma. There were tears in her eyes but the most beautiful smile on her lips. How he loved her smile. 

“You aren’t getting rid of me yet, love.” His voice was hoarse and quieter than he expected but it was worth it for the quiet chuckle she gave.

“Good.”

He felt the warmth of her hand on his face, the light stroke of her thumb on his cheek but all he could see were her eyes. The happiness, the relief, and something else he hoped would be there for a long time to come.

“Is he okay?” A familiar female voice sounded from behind Emma. 

She nodded, without taking her eyes off him, a soft smile on her lips. “Yeah, he’s okay.”

Henry’s head lifted from their embrace to smile brightly at the two of them and Killian could only laugh. Laugh at how stupidly happy he was to have met them. The way they joined in his laughter warmed his heart, and reminded him of how happy he was to be alive.

Killian held on to Emma’s arm, sadly staining the white shirt with his blood - not that they cared much - so he could sit up. Henry’s hands were on his arms, a worried frown on his forehead. But Killian only smiled. He was alive, he was okay, he was ready to carry on his life with them. His hand tightened on Emma’s arm as he bumped his forehead with Henry’s. 

“Thank you,” he whispered before he moved back to look at the two of them. “Thank you for saving me.”

Henry’s smile was wide, his small body crashing into him for a second time. “Thank you for staying.” The boy’s whisper sounded loud in his ears and he wished he could stay in this moment forever.

A loud scream interrupted them.

They looked towards the source to find the queen with a horrified look on her face as she pointed towards the far side of the courtyard. 

“Arthur…” Lancelot whispered with the same expression.

They all turned to see Arthur’s body standing in front of the pillar Emma had thrown him against. That would be alarming all on its own, but the truly shocking part was the fact that his head hung forward, the man still clearly unconscious. The king’s body took stumbling steps towards them, his head lolling from side to side. 

As Arthur continued his lumbering approach, Killian noticed a second shadow on the floor. A much less fumbling figure from Arthur’s unstable form.

With Emma’s help, Killian stood from the ground, pulling Henry behind them. From the corner of his eye, he could see Lancelot - even in his weakened state - try to shield his queen.

And then, Arthur stopped. 

They watched as his head was thrown back, his whole body following suit and so precariously unbalanced that Killian wondered how he was still on his feet.

A bright gash appeared in the middle of Arthur’s chest without any response from the man, not even a small whimper, even when a hand burst out from the rift. One of the shadows reflected on the ground began to convulse until it disappeared. 

“Take her to safety, now!” Emma yelled towards the other two people in the courtyard, forcing Henry further behind them, hoping to block his view.

They heard the urging voice of Lancelot and the frightened voice of the queen before the couple’s rushed footsteps reached their ears. 

Their full attention drawn back in front of them once Lancelot and the queen were safely away, they watched as a second hand joined the first, widening the tear in the king’s chest. Killian could only hope he could spare Henry the nightmares that were sure to follow the gruesome scene. It was only moments before a blonde head emerged from the fissure. And then the figure stepped out of the former king’s carcass to stand in front of them, Arthur’s body crumbling to the ground.

“When you want something done, you have to do it yourself.” The surprise guest’s voice was eerily peppy given the macabre scene surrounding them and Killian struggled to keep his jaw from dropping.

He looked only a few years older than Henry, even though his face told of decades of existence and he was dressed in a green outfit that reminded Killian of Emma’s old one. He’d seen him before. Emma gasped.

“Pan…” 

“Hello, Duckling.” Pan was grinning and his voice lacked surprise. He knew they would be here. “Didn’t think you’d seen the last of me, did you?”

“H-How is this possible? You can’t leave Neverland!” Emma’s voice trembled. She looked terrified, a panic in her eyes that he’d only seen once before - when they sailed too close to the island aboard the Black Pearl. A lost girl.

“Our dimwitted king helped me with that,” Pan said smugly, pointing towards the body. “His failure gave me enough time to get the Heart of the Truest Believer myself.” 

“You’re just as dimwitted if you think we’ll let you take the Heart.” Killian took a step forward, inching himself closer to Emma and covering Henry more.

“Ah, Captain Hook, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Emma tensed up next to him and Henry placed a questioning hand on his arm but he didn't stop directing his glare towards Pan. “I had expected a bounty hunter like you to have been more interested in the deal I offered.”

“You were wrong.” 

“Pan was the one who sent you after me?” Henry’s quiet question pulled his attention off Pan.

“I didn’t know who he was when we spoke.”

“Lucky for you, I’ll give you another chance.” Their eyes followed Pan’s casual pacing, the feeling of prey watching a predator settling on them. “Give me the boy and you can leave. Go back to your life.”

Killian glared at Pan’s knowing and confident grin, as if he knew Killian would take the deal. Henry’s hand tightened on his left arm, and Emma sent him a sidelong glance. But Killian couldn’t take his eyes off Pan.

“And what makes you think I would accept?” 

“It’s like you said,” Pan replied with a shrug of his shoulders, “you’re a survivor.” 

A shiver ran down his spine. He’d never said that to Pan or anyone else besides Emma. Not for the first time, the feeling came over him that they were being watched.

“I have been watching you three for a while.” Pan’s eerily calm demeanor became even more disturbing. “So, I’m going to sweeten the deal. Give me the boy and I’ll even let you take someone with you. Emma.” His penetrating stare landed on her and a small, utterly depraved and evil smile lifted the corner of his lips before he spoke again. “My sweet duckling.  We both know how much you would love that.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I’ll kill you all.” 

The demon’s nonchalant attitude as he made the statement made gooseflesh erupt on Killian’s skin, but he just hummed, as if considering the proposal. “That’s an interesting proposition.” His hand tightened on his dagger. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse.” 

Killian was grateful for his connection with Emma as his thrown dagger was matched by the whistling of her short arrow. The weapons traveled towards their common enemy, only for a dark blur to stop them.

Pan laughed, a terrible laugh that made his ears ring. “You didn’t really think it would be that easy, did you?”

They didn’t have time to answer before they were being pulled back by the arms. Killian felt the tight grip immobilizing him but when he tried to escape, he couldn’t see anyone. Looking towards where Emma was caught in the same struggle as he was, he noticed a dark shadow behind her, a shadow holding the arms of her shadow. It occurred to him that this might be a battle they wouldn’t be able to win.

Pan approached with slow, confident steps where Henry stood helplessly looking between his two companions. The lad looked scared but Killian’s struggle to escape was useless.

“Get away from the boy!” 

“Leave him alone!”

Killian and Emma’s voices were angry but they were laced with desperation.

“You had your chance.” Pan shrugged again with a wide grin. “Now, you’ll get to see me kill the boy. And then, you’ll see me kill my runaway Swan. Only then will I kill you. Nice and slow!”

Killian’s struggle grew more violent as Pan got closer to Henry. From the corner of his eye, he could see Emma was doing the same. 

“Why do you want my heart?” Killian could hear the fear in Henry’s voice, but there was bravery in his eyes.

“Have you learned nothing? I want power! I want the power your heart will give me!” Henry had to look up as Pan approached, but he didn’t back down. 

There was pride mixed in with Killian’s fear.

“How did you know it was me?”

“I thought you were smarter than that, laddie,” Pan grinned. “A prophecy told me about you, a baby born in a night with no moon or stars. Your parents knew it too, so it took me a long time to find you.”

“You saw my parents?” Henry’s voice was quiet, like the young boy he never got the chance to be. Killian’s frown matched the one on Emma’s face.

“No. But my Lost Ones did, the last ones to see them alive.” Pan’s fake pout had Killian’s hair stand at attention. “But that’s only because they’re the ones who killed them.”

The heartbreak coming from Henry nearly brought Killian to his knees. The boy knew he was an orphan but to hear it spoken of so callously and with so much certainty was the height of cruelty. It was clear Pan was enjoying inflicting this pain on the boy. He was feeding off it.

“They told me your father was the first to go, trapped in the house when my boys set it on fire-”

“Stop it!” Emma shouted.

“But your mother?” Pan continued, ignoring the two adults’ struggle, his grin widening. “She escaped, ran away with you, but she didn’t go far-”

“Don’t listen to him, lad!”

“Your mother abandoned you and ran away. You should be thanking me for having had her killed, she deserved it. We even celebrated!”

“He’s lying, Henry, I remember that night!” Emma’s voice broke through Pan’s sadistic game, bringing it to a screeching halt.

Henry turned to her and Killian saw the tears streaking down his cheeks and his begging eyes. Killian’s struggle intensified.

“Remember your place, Duckling,” Pan warned but she ignored him.

“That was the night I escaped, I remember the screams on the island. They weren’t celebrating,” she explained feverishly, “They had failed.” Her eyes were on the boy, a hint of a smile on her face, a smile meant only for him. “They were after you, but they didn’t find you. She didn’t abandon you and deep down you know that.”

Pan growled and Killian watched as another shadow joined the one behind Emma to pull on her hair. An involuntary whimper of pain escaped her lips even as she tried to stifle it. Henry took a step towards her but she shook her head the best she could to stop him. The boy turned back towards Pan.

“She didn’t abandon me.” Henry spoke clearly and with his head held high. “She protected me from you, she saved me. Your games won’t work on me.”

There was a moment when Pan’s frown marred his young face where Killian foolishly thought they could win, that Henry’s bravery would be enough. But then Pan smiled.

“You’re right, no more games.” His voice was soft and calm but it only unnerved them. “I’ll be clear, give me your heart or they die.”

Pan grinned as he snapped his fingers. A black figure appeared in front of Killian, there was no face, no body, merely the shadow of a person. That’s what it was, a shadow - he’d never seen one up close and he suddenly feared it would be the last thing he would ever see.

Without warning, the shadow grabbed onto his shoulders and began to slowly pull. This pain was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, including the one he had suffered only moments ago. It felt like his insides were being pulled out of him - as if his very essence was being removed.

His screams of pain were echoed by Emma’s, who was clearly suffering his same fate. 

“Run, Henry!” Killian yelled. “You need to run!”

“No! I won’t leave you, I won’t let you die!” 

“You need to go, Henry!” Emma urged him between screams of pain.

“No!” Henry unsheathed his dagger to point it at Pan. “Let them go!” Henry looked so frightened, his dagger held in a shaky grip. 

“Even if you could kill me, they would still die,” Pan gloated with a shrug. Henry’s arm lowered in defeat. “What’ll it be, Believer? You or them?”

“No!”

“Don’t listen to him!”

“I’m sorry… This is my fault, but I can still save you.” 

Time stopped as they watched Henry’s hand shine with a white light before he shoved it into his own chest. They watched as Henry removed a golden heart, his knees wobbling. 

“Please, Henry!”

“Don’t do this!”

Henry glanced towards them with a brave and hopeful gaze. “I love you.” 

They watched as Henry pushed the golden heart into Pan’s chest before collapsing to the floor. Pan’s victorious laughter surrounded them, but what truly mattered was that suddenly there was nothing restraining them, nothing pulling the life out of them anymore.

Before he could take a proper breath, Killian was kneeling next to Henry’s unconscious body, Emma on the other side. His hand touched the boy’s neck, his chest, hoping for a heartbeat he knew wouldn’t be there. His skin was still warm and Killian remembered another one he loved who laid in his arms the same way.

“Is- Is he dead?” Emma’s voice was quiet and Pan’s laughter grew louder and stronger.

Killian’s mouth opened and closed silently, unable to answer her question, unable to admit the truth they both knew.

“People will do the stupidest things for love,” Pan pouted, a fake mournful tone to his voice.

“You did this!” Emma growled but Killian grabbed her arm, stopping her.

“Actually, he did it to himself,” Pan shrugged, an unconcerned smile on his face. “You saw it, he took out his own heart, but don’t worry, it’s in a safe place.” He patted his chest with a smug grin.

Unable to look at Pan’s face anymore, Killian turned back to the boy. He looked like he was simply asleep, like he would wake at any moment. But Killian knew he wouldn’t. He felt Emma’s anger-fueled grief under his grip as he heard Pan take a deep satisfying breath.

“I finally have the Heart and now the world will be my Neverland!” Pan held out his arms in triumph. “Thank him for me. I’m sure you’ll be seeing him soon enough.” 

Killian let go of Emma’s wrist as his hand went to the boy’s chest, feeling the still chest when his own heart was hammering against his. It wasn’t fair.

“Take my heart.” Emma’s words matched his own as they both spoke at the same time, the same expressions on their faces - determination and hope.

Killian glanced towards Pan, hoping the villain was too distracted to stop them. He stood a few feet away focused only on the new power in his chest and the bright golden light of his stolen magic, victorious.

“Emma,” Killian started in a quiet voice. “I promised to return you to your parents. If we’re going to use anyone’s heart, it should be mine.”

Emma shook her head. “No, I won’t take you from his life. You’re too important to him.”

“So are you!”

“I don’t even know if this will work for us and then you will have died for nothing.”

“If it’s to save Henry, it won’t be for nothing.”

They looked at each other, their faces both stubborn and hopeful.

“Together?” she asked, her voice wobbly.

“Emma-”

“We’ve done everything together since we met, Killian. We should do this together, too.” 

Killian took a deep breath, focusing on her green eyes. He nodded and the way they brightened with hope was enough for him to nod more vigorously.

“Together.”

Emma laid her hand on his chest, but where there had been confidence, now there was fear. “I’ve never done this before.” 

He placed his hand over her wrist. “I believe in you.”

Emma nodded and pushed her hand into his chest. He stifled a grunt of pain when she pulled it back out. He hadn’t expected the surprisingly red heart that she now held in her hand, a small dark blob in the center of it. Maybe he wasn’t as lost as he thought. 

The world was dull around them and there was a feeling of emptiness in his chest. He still felt the love for the two people in front of him but it felt muted. 

She took a deep breath as she looked between his heart and him before she plunged her own hand inside her chest. With her own groan of pain, she removed her hand, now holding a bright red heart.

“Hmm, I should split them.”

“Aye, that should work.” A weak chuckle made the corner of her lips rise.

Emma placed her heart confidently in his hand. Killian held it reverently as she focused on his. He felt the magic in her fingers, her careful grip, like a warm fire in his chest. Her heart beat fast in his hand and he hoped she felt the same warmth that he felt.

He winced when she finally jerked her hands, successfully splitting his heart. “That was interesting.”

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes were wide in concern.

Killian shook his head. “We need to hurry.” 

They traded hearts and he held on to his split heart as Emma focused on hers. He glanced at Pan to see him floating a foot off the ground, hands raised. Killian noticed how the courtyard appeared darker, despite the high sun in the sky. He watched as a couple of shadows already circled Pan’s feet. They really needed to hurry and get out of there.

He heard her whimper and turned to see her holding her halved heart. She quickly placed one half back in her chest, a shiver running down her body as she got used to the feeling.

“Now, you.” 

She grabbed one half of his heart and placed it in his chest. It was a strange feeling. It was a relief to be able to feel again, no longer the muted experience of before, but there was still a sense of being incomplete, of something missing.

They looked at each other, an unspoken question between them. He nodded.

He held his breath as Emma joined both halves together, as they stitched themselves to form a complete heart. They took a deep breath when it worked. Their surroundings were darkening and the glowing red heart was like a beacon.

Killian grabbed Emma’s wrist. Their hands holding the constructed heart hovered over Henry’s chest and with a last deep breath, they pushed.

“Fight, my boy.”

“Come back to us.”

It felt like years before Henry took a gasping breath. A powerful wave of multicolored energy passed through them and then they heard it.

“No!”

Pan’s scream caught their attention and they watched as he came back to earth, turned towards them, and began to approach with angry steps before falling to his knees. A bright beacon began to form on his chest and Pan’s screams turned from fury into pain. 

They watched, dumbfounded, as Pan burned from the inside out until there was nothing but ash where he once stood. He wouldn’t be missed. They looked up as the midday sun began to shine brightly in the sky again.

“Henry?” Emma called softly, her voice watery.

The boy finally opened his eyes. Glancing between the two adults, he seemed to understand exactly what just happened. His lips curled in a small smile.

“Guess I have another great story to tell, huh?”

Emma let out a startled laugh before she pulled Henry into a tight hug, Killian shaking his head amusedly before joining. They all took a collective breath.

Killian could feel his beating heart echo, feeling twice the love, no longer incomplete. He cupped Henry’s head and placed a kiss on his forehead, completely unconcerned over his wobbly voice.

“We thought we lost you, my boy.” 

“But you didn’t lose hope.” Henry smiled before burrowing his face in Emma’s neck.

Emma chuckled, running her fingers through the boy’s hair. “We learned from the best.”

Henry is the first to break the hug but he doesn’t go far, his hands holding each adult’s arm in a tight grip. “I love you.”

Killian shouldn’t have been surprised by the sentiment, considering the great lengths they had all gone for each other in the time they’ve known each other, but it’s still surprising to see someone give their love so instantly, so freely. His heart felt too large for his chest even with its reduced size, but he cherishes it.

Emma’s smile widened and she stroked his face. “We love you, too.”

“You know we do. I’m sure you can feel it.” Killian tapped the boy’s chest with his hook, with a smile.

Henry smiled widely, eyes watering before nodding vigorously and pulling them both close for another hug. Killian can only hope to feel this love everyday for the rest of his life.

“Are you all alright?” 

The familiar female voice broke their quiet moment. Not giving up much of their personal space, the three of them turned to see the Queen approaching slowly with a steadier Lancelot, his arm around her shoulders.

Killian took a deep breath. “Aye, and I’m pleased to see you safe and sound as well.”

“We wanted to help, bu-” 

“This was our battle,” Emma interrupted Lancelot’s apology with a kind smile. “You two were in no shape to fight.”

“Besides,” Henry turned to them with a smile of his own. “Camelot needs its queen safe and sound.”

Despite the Queen’s smile, they could all see the guilt in the furrow of her brow. “I knew he was obsessed with the prophecy, but I always thought I would have my Arthur back.” She paused for a moment. “I never thought he was so…mad.”

“Gwen,” Lancelot interrupted. “Arthur was lost to us a long time ago. We tried our best to help him, he just wouldn’t listen.”

Killian stood first before he helped Emma and Henry stand next to him. “He’s right, there was nothing any of us could do.”

“Pan is- was a demon, he corrupted whatever good Arthur had in his heart. Like he does to all things.” 

Emma’s tone had Killian placing his hand on her arm, Henry leaning back against her in a gesture of comfort. 

Gwen nodded, wiping her tears. “Now, Camelot can return to its former glory.”

“With a wonderful Queen to rule it,” Lancelot added with a soft smile.

As Gwen’s cheeks reddened, Killian turned away with an amused smile mimicked by Emma, while Henry watched them with bright eyes. Killian’s eyes found Emma’s and he cherished the reddish hue on her own cheeks.

Gwen cleared her throat hoping to move away from the moment but they noticed the way her hand found Lancelot’s as she did. “We would like to thank you. If there’s anything you need…”

“We wanna know where to find Merlin,” Henry burst out, Killian’s hand on his shoulder doing little to ease his excitement.

The way Gwen and Lancelot looked at each other quickly told Killian and Emma that they wouldn’t find the answers they hoped for there.

“Merlin has never been here.”

“At least, not while we’ve lived here.”

Henry’s silence was deafening and he looked up at his two companions with a worried frown.

Killian sighed as he squeezed the boy’s shoulder in comfort. “Do you know where we can find him?” 

Gwen was quiet for a moment. “When we were children, Arthur used to speak to a tree in the kingdom grounds that he believed Merlin had been trapped in. That’s where he was told of the prophecies.”

“When he came into power, he cut down every tree around the castle grounds. So even if Merlin had been here, I suspect he no longer is…”

Killian nodded, trying not to let his frustration show.

“We should carry on our way, then. There’s still a lot we need to do,” Emma answered with a tight smile.

“Are you sure we can’t give you anything? You can rest here, eat.” Gwen frowned.

Killian felt Henry’s questioning stare on his face but ignored it. “We should really get going, but thank you.”

They made quick work of grabbing their things and walked out of the kingdom’s gates under the confused stares of the Queen and her knight. Both Emma and Killian ignored Henry’s confusion until they were a safe distance from the castle. By then, the Camelot people were leaving their houses with questioning gazes and curious questions. 

“Why did we leave so fast?” Henry finally asked.

“We don’t know them, lad.”

“They might not have been on Arthur or Pan’s side but there are always dangers around,” Emma added, holding on to Henry’s hand as they made their way through the crowds.

“But they were good people, we could have asked them what they know.”

“We did, and they didn’t know anything, lad. They were victims just like us and they now have to deal with a whole kingdom wanting answers.”

“So where are we supposed to go now?”

Killian and Emma were quiet at that. The truth was they didn’t know. This was the first time they didn’t know where to go. Pan was defeated, that should have been the final piece.

“You don’t know, do you?” Henry asked with a raised eyebrow and a smile creeping up on his face.

“Well,” Emma stuttered, causing Henry to chuckle and Killian to smile. “I know we need to get to Avalon…”

“We just don’t know how to get there,” Killian finished with a teasing smile.

“It’s not like Cygnus is available to give us directions.” Emma gestured towards the bright afternoon sky pointedly.

Henry laughed. They had reached the town proper. They stood in the middle of the emptying market, everyone had followed the news towards the castle, only the merchants left behind, worried over leaving their wares. 

“We should find somewhere to wait until evening,” Killian told his companions. It was the only permission Henry needed to begin exploring the market under their watchful eye. “We’ll check for Cygnus then.”

“I agree.” He watched Emma’s smile from the corner of his eye and couldn't help but match it.

They could breathe now. Their journey wasn’t over but they defeated Pan. Henry was alive and so were they. The more he looked at her and the more he heard Henry bombarding questions at the merchants, the happier he was for being with them now, for having made the decision to protect Henry when they first met.

Her eyes found his and his breath hitched in his chest. Their last conversation played through his mind. They hadn’t reached Avalon yet, but after what they just went through, a part of him didn’t want to hold back any longer.

“Emma-”

“Killian-” 

They spoke at the same time, pausing to look at each other with a shy smile.

“You go first,” Emma allowed with a nod.

“Emma, I-”

He'd recognise that ship anywhere. The rigging he climbed time and time again, the hull he begged to help clean with Starkey while they flew forty thousand feet in the sky. The ship he tried to escape from so many times. The ship that turned out to be the home he never had.

Nemo would be there. He would be there and so would his disappointed eyes. His anger. At that moment, he felt just like the troubled teen he hadn't been in a long time.

Emma looked at him with expectant and confused eyes as his silence and stupefied expression lasted longer and longer. He looked once more at the ship but saw no familiar faces looking out but that wouldn’t always be true.

“We need to go.”

“What?” Emma frowned, defensiveness taking over.

“Where’s Henry?” Killian looked around. “Henry!” The boy’s dark head of hair quickly turned to where they stood in confusion. “We need to go now.” 

“What happened?” Henry asked as he approached. “Is someone after us?”

“Killian Jones!”

The familiar booming voice echoed through the emptied market. Emma turned around first to see an imposing figure in a pristine naval outfit. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the man’s crossed arms. Killian wasn’t sure he could face an expression of sorrow on the face of the man he considered a father. 

“I have been looking for you.”

#parent for hire #carolina writes #the actual big villain fight #shtuff happens #tw character death #killian jones #captain hook #emma swan #henry mills #captain swan #captainswan #once upon a time #ouat #captaincobra #captaincobraswan #king arthur #peter pan #cs ff

[kmomof4]

Parent for Hire: A New Fic for @cssns by @exhaustedpirate

Y’all, I was privileged to not only make art for this story, but also to beta it and let me tell you, it is sooooo lovely!!! Caro has melted my Captain Cobra heart many times over already and I’m so tickled that her post date is finally here!!!

You can find her fic on ao3 here and on tumblr here.

Here is the artwork for the fic!

Enjoy the fic and please go give her all the love!!!

#cssns23 #fanart for fanfic #art by krystal #parent for hire #exhaustedpirate

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID in ALT] I've made posts before about Talia/Dick co-parenting Damian moments (will never happen but let me dream) and this came to me in a vision. Took me ages to finish for some reason 😭 and then even longer to post

#dc comics #dc #damian wayne #dick grayson #talia al ghul #batfamily #dc robin #nightwing #anyway. yes im a self-indulgent ''dick as damians secret third parent'' truther #like i DO think it's way more complex and nuanced than the schmoopy affectionate fan portrayal of it #they're brothers they're father and son they're partners they're the dynamic duo except only in past tense etc etc #but consider! I'm not immune to schmoopy affection in fanworks. it compells me despite itself #anyway it's technically not that crazy when it comes to dick and damian. they hug! often! at least they did #it's not as big a leap to these types of scenarios #also talia ''somewhat absent for complex reasons on both her and damians part but very loving and loved by her son'' al ghul #you will always be famous to me #son of the demon origin...bwahhh #anyway. someone made a comic kind of like this/like a post i made abt this topic #but way funnier bc dick and talia starting trying to beat each other up #so go look at that as well #anyway. it's been a somewhat difficult few weeks so I'm. desperately trying to take it easy #i got some reading with me (first vol of kevin smiths GA run that i found second hand and jaimes BB run vol 2!) #so we'll see how far i get through those. considering there's demons in my head telling me to re-read things (LET ME OUT!!!) #when i finish GA and BB i do plan on rereading robin 2021. as a treat to myself #it's a run I've really warmed up to as time went on #I'm keeping up w/ the current b&r run even though it is. admittedly very slow w/ some weird dialogue #i read it for the damian content more than anything. also nikas back so that's neat :] #idk I have a feeling that after absolute power shakes out we might get some more creative team switch ups #so if anyone at dc is interested in taking over the reigns on b&r...that could be very neat #(it's me they should hire me. please DC i have ideas listen to my red hood pitch PLEASE-)

[faeriekit]

The Foster Mother

Now on ao3 and VHS release

There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.

“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.

“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”

…Alright.

Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.

Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.

And then Tim walked into the room.

And then Jazzy was there.

*

Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.

She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.

She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.

Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.

(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)

Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.

The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.

She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.

Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.

She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.

Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.

She looked up when he came in.

Tim. Stopped in his tracks.

It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.

“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.

She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!

“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“

“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.

Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.

(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)

She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.

He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.

“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”

Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.

“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”

Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”

Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?

“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”

Which. Whiplash. What a statement.

“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.

Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”

“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”

“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”

Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.

Jazzy waited patiently.

“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.

Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”

It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—

—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.

She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.

“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.

He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.

Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.

It was for the best.

“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”

…Tim’s heart skipped.

He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…

Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?

And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!

“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”

She handed him the backpack by the handle.

…Tim peeked inside.

On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.

And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.

Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.

Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.

It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.

Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.

Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.

“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“

“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.

“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”

Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.

“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!

“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”

Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.

And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.

Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.

He swallowed.

Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.

#dp x dc #Jazz fenton #tim drake #that one time Tim specifically hired a fake uncle so that Bruce couldn't adopt him #free to a good home #Jack Fenton knits btw #I'm not going to continue this but i thought it was a cool premise and needed its time. Have fun with it if you want to! #this is dedicated to all the fulltime nannies at the library who are fully just college girls raising babies #dpxdc #dcxdp #Jazz said is anyone going to raise this baby and was targeted by ninjas for it #I don't have any future plans BUT there is a moment where Dick tries to sneak into her apt to 'check it out' and she fully Gets Him with a #TBI and a Fenton CreepStickTM #also. parents who try to shape their kids by denying them every form of human comfort and access to their interests. You're dead to me #also also also I'm still a Tim Drake Autistic truther #not NOT inspired by the Say Uncle by Megarakles. This one's for you fellow fans #also. if he goes with her. He gets parented for the first time ever and it Sucks Ass lol. #faer fic

[steviesbicrisis]

First and last episode of Silvia uses her degree on tumblr:

✨ Steve's house is ugly as fuck ✨

You might see this picture and think "what are you on about? it's not so bad!!" and I would agree with you, since the pool, the lights and the huge windows on the ground floor are doing the most at making this house look very nice and expensive.

But then, I saw this

this is the front of the house... THE FRONT OF THE HOUSE! THIS FLAT MF WITH THE MOST BASIC ASS WINDOWS IS SUPPOSED TO BE THE FIRST THING EVERYONE SEES???

And like, I know this is season 1, they were on a budget and this house isn't as important as the Wheelers or the Byers but I have an hyperfixation on Steve Harrington so I simply cannot let this one slide.

There are a lot of things that bother me about this house: the flatness of this entrance (seriously, never heard of a porch???), those boring windows, the fact that the house is basic but then you have that expensive-looking front door and those huge windows in front of the pool?? it seems as if they merged two houses together???

Now, I know we all joke about Steve having a lot of spare bedrooms but like, this house is huge???

LOOK AT THIS? is this really a suitable home for three people? You could fit all Hawkins after the earthquake in here, jc. They actually do have 400 spare bedrooms.

But then I realized, half of this is actually empty.

This is the best part of the house, let's be fucking honest. Finally some rich features in here. But also, this means that half the house doesn't have a second floor but just a huge living space on the ground floor with a double high which is very rich of you Harringtons, wasting half of the second floor just for the sake of aesthetic.

(Also, that exposed wood roof is gorgeous but the color... meh.)

At this point you might think that this house isn't actually that bad.. let me remind you that this house contains this room:

I rest my case.

#I'm so sorry that your parents' taste is shit Stevie #you deserved a better house to be abbandoned in #I'm 1000% making this house in the sims 4 btw #when I will be free from studying #I just need to salvage this and make it pretty somehow #decent at best #also Harringtons please hire me as a interior designer #all the fucking love #but you need one #stranger things houses #steve harrington #steve harrington house #stranger things #stressed queues

[shit-people-probably-didnt-say]

Tutor: You have 5 cats and someone wants 2 of them. How many cats do you have left?

Wesper kid: 5

Tutor: …Ok, lets say someone takes 2 of them away, how many do you have left?

Wesper kid: 5 and a dead body

Tutor: So you can see why Im concerned

Wylan and Jesper: 🫣

(Kaz: Clever kid)

#they of course do NOT hire the type of tutor Wylan had #soc #soc incorrect quotes #six of crows #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #wesper #kaz brekker #wesper parents #wesper kid

[mishapen-dear]

tbh i think that even unwinnable fights should be winnable. some of the BEST fights i've ever run as a dm were ones i built kill the players (in a fun way. I had some cutscenes prepped so even the loss would be a different flavour of win)- but then they were clever bastards and managed to either win the fights or pull themselves out of trouble. I think it's perfectly fine to plan for a fight that players aren't supposed to win, but you need to let them. if they can't win, they can't lose, and the meaning of that encounter is diminished. do that too many times, and they stop trusting you to give them roleplay prompts and start expecting to sit there waiting while you drive the story for them.

but if they can win... if there is always the chance to win, no matter how impossible the odds, then they ALWAYS have hope. they always get invested. they feel the big emotions of success or the big emotions of failure, and you fucking Win as a dm/roleplay prompter/lead bastard.

#qsmp neg #qsmp crit #discourse #<- for blacklists #im not grumping or anything im just musing on like. the mechanics of why everyone is so upset about the latest fight #and how it can be avoided while still keeping these fights genuinely difficult and intense #its hard because there's so many players and they all have wildly different strengths and weaknesses #so someone who could take on the code easy needs that enemy scaled differently than someone who isn't a big fighter #but it's hard to do that in a world where they interact w the same enemy #and you only have so much man-power to cater to a big server like this one #and then you bring in the big powerful items that the players can and can't access but which the admins have ultimate power over #and the fact that some of the admins themselves have lag issues or aren't super great at pvp so they accommodate that with better gear #and it starts getting messy #but for the fights themselves yeah regardless of what armour or gear or killing-methods they use there should Always be a win condition #and idk maybe there was one and we just didn't get to see it #but if that win condition is 'parents sit in the safe room with their babies while the others are overrun' #then i think there are ways to build better win conditions #anyway i love game design and player/dm interactions qsmp hire me now i want to know your behind the scenes #jk im too busy to apply #but man. i wanna nerd out so bad that sometimes i think about it

[wildstar25]

MiqoMarch Day 10 - Free Day

AU Jobs pt.2: SCHOLAR Just before setting out to Limsa Lominsa, Arsay's guardian -a lalafel named Emrara Emra- would gift her not only Arsay's now treasured ribbon, but an heirloom of great import. A blue stone that had been passed down in Emrara's family for generations with a strange symbol caved into its face. Supposedly it came from a time where three powerful schools of magic began to clash for reasons unknown. Little did Arsay know how useful that stone would be on her adventures, or that it would lead her to uncover mysteries around the very same same city her guardian always dreamed of finding.

#miqomarch #miqomarch2024 #ffxiv #miqo'te #ffxiv gpose #WOL posting #Arsay Nun #arsay would still have couscous even as a scholar!! #but it would be emerald carbuncle instead of normal carbuncle #also i guess mini lore drop for emrara emra #but shes a descendant of one of the few people who managed to not get hit with the tonberry curse in nym #and that scholar job stone has been passed down from generation to generation #it always made emrara curious about this great magical city and about arcane geometry #she takes up the practice and her dream becomes discovering the lost city of nym #because pre 2.0 those ruins where very much not there #she initially hired arsays parents as helpers while she traversed vyldbrand for anything that could point to the location of the city

[starrspice]

I've had this AU idea bouncing around my head for a while but needed help fleshing out a few ideas

Y/N is an autoshop mechanic who had to take on the role of legal guardian for their two godsons Kirby and Kenny, after their dear friends (the boys' parents) died in a horrible accident.

While struggling to learn how to be a parent alongside mourning their friends Y/N finds themselves in need of a babysitter to watch the boys so they can pick up more work so money isn't so tight.

In come Sun and Moon, who are more than happy to take care of the boys and remind Y/N that parenting is hard, but they're doing great

#my art #post fire au #fnaf sb #moondrop #sundrop #fnaf sun #fnaf security breach #fnaf moon #fanart #fnaf moondrop #fnaf sundrop #adoptive kids #new parent #God parent #sundrop x reader #sundrop x y/n #moondrop x reader #moondrop x y/n #eventually y/n offers to hire them as live in nannies #think Dear Evan Hansen's So big So small #fnaf au #fnaf vanessa #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf dca #fnaf oc #oc #the boys are twins

[martyrbat]

ghosts - batman: haunted knight

[ID: A multi panel sequence of Bruce Wayne as a child on Halloween. He's dressed up in a Mask of Zorro costume and is excitedly running down the stairs while holding two swords, calling out for his mother happily. He tells her that he's ready to go trick or treating. Martha Wayne has her hand on his shoulder and is smiling as she tells him, “your costume looks great!” Bruce replies, “Thanks, I made it myself. Alfred sorta helped. Is dad home yet?” Martha draws her hand back hesitantly and says his name. Bruce already knows that that means there's bad news. He tells her, “don't tell me,” before she continues and says his father called. Bruce has his head down, angrily finishing her sentence, “he's gotta work late!” He looks out the window as if his father will appear and says, “It's not fair! He promised he would take me trick or treating!” Martha soothes that she knows as Bruce repeats, “he promised,” to himself disappointedly. She tells him, “But there was an emergency,” which makes Bruce snap, “There's always some emergency!”

Bruce continues to stand in front of the window as Martha looks at him. Bruce announces, “I'm gonna wait for him. Even if it takes all night!” as he tensely clenches the handle of his sword. Martha reaches out for him sadly and suggests, “Bruce, I could take you out myself. Or, we can call some of the other children at school and go out with them.” Bruce, as an adult, somberly says off panel that, “she doesn't know...” as his kid self stares out the window still. His hat casting a small shadow on his face as he tells her, “There are no other kids to call. I have no friends at school.” Martha says his name again but doesn't know how to comfort him. Instead, she just silently places a hand on his shoulder. We see a silhouette from far away of her standing next to him as Bruce waits for his father to eventually come home. END ID]

#hey do you ever think about bruce's childhood and feel your chest hurt #like even before the murders. just how lonely he was a boy and how that loneliness only grew after watching his entire life and people he #had be ripped away from him. sure he had alfred but his entire life and world was contained to that big scary house that was suddenly so #much emptier. the constant reminders and seeing what was once there and triggering it again and again and again ontop of ptsd and ocd... #also martha?? love her. hes the biggest mama's boy you cant change my mind. #<- again using this tag because if thomas worked a lot and bruce obviously didn't have friends to go out with #then the only person he ever actually talked to and interacted with was his mother and alfred #the man hired to care about you and the woman who gave birth to you. thus that attachment being stronger #but also the 'people have to be trapped to want to be around me'... a man hired to be your friend and take care of you... #ur own parents not wanting to/avoiding that responsibility and involvement.... yeah. #anyways ! happy halloween !! heres a child being disappointed ! #bruce wayne #baby brucie #crypt's panels #c: batman: haunted knight | ghosts #martha wayne #bruce & martha #bruce's childhood

[exhaustedpirate]

parent for hire

As mentioned in the prologue post, let me know if you'd like to be included in the tag list for this project! From this post on, I will be uploading moodboards made by me. This project will have a constant "THANK YOU" to @kmomof4 for making this whole thing possible!

Chapter One - The Rescue

word count: 2772 words 

rating: Teen and Up

tag list: @cocohook38

read on AO3 | prologue

Killian Jones always got his bounty. 

Since he began his solo career as a bounty hunter, he could count on one hand the ones that had escaped him. His successes had helped his reputation soar and had given him a name of his own. Hook.

And with a name of his own, he gained some competition, and some enemies.

One of them was Blackbeard - a ruthless man without a shred of honour.

Killian tried to make his coin in a way his former Captain would be proud of, honorably. He would accept bounties to capture criminals, to help people. There were times he would slip - innocent people were sometimes worth a lot of gold - but those were few and far between. 

He wasn't sure where his most recent bounty fit. His employer had been vague - a large sum of gold to capture a wizard. No indication as to why or what they intended to do with him. Killian's history with wizards made him uninterested in asking those questions. As far as he was concerned, he would be quite happy to rid the world of another one. 

His heart stuttered as he thought of what he lost, the hook on his left hand feeling heavier than before, the weight on his chest suffocating. He heard her pleas, his own cries of pain. Magic served only to destroy. 

He shook his head, wanting out of the memory, returning his focus to the present. He urged Roger forward, matching his heart rate to the horse's foot falls. Seemingly understanding his mood, Roger's path veered towards the beach, keeping close to the water.

Luckily, Glowerhaven was a coastal kingdom. It was also where Killian knew Blackbeard’s lair was located.

According to his employer, Blackbeard had been hired to bring in the bounty but was now refusing to deliver, making the wizard's retrieval much more difficult for his employer than necessary. That had earned Killian a far bigger reward.

He wasn't surprised to find out that the old pirate was the one that had his bounty. Nor was he surprised that he was giving their employer trouble. Blackbeard was as greedy as he was despicable, and he undoubtedly thought there was more gold to be had by spreading  the story of his exploits in capturing the bounty and then handing it off to the one with the deepest pockets rather than delivering it to their employer. But Blackbeard’s stories, Killian had learned, should always be taken with a grain of salt. He may have heard the bounty was dangerous, but… well, he’d see when he got there. Right now though, those stories weren’t even close to Killian’s greatest concern. 

Killian's only worry as he stood hidden near the entrance of the cave where Blackbeard had his hideout was the fact that, for once, it wasn't a fair fight - there seemed to be at least 5 other pirates huddled inside. He counted his bullets, confirmed that his sword and daggers were still in place, employed his signature swagger and bravado, and made his way to the entrance.

Two pirates standing guard held him at sword and gun point while Killian pretended to simply be there to talk to their boss. They seemed confident; that was good. Confident meant sloppy. They obviously believed that the close proximity of their sword and gun to his neck and gut, respectively, would keep him in line.

Blackbeard sat with his smug, golden-toothed smile welcoming him like an old friend. Anyone could see the glint of murder in his eye, however, and Killian knew that one wrong move could send him to an early grave.

Thankfully for him, his past encounters with Blackbeard had given him a tried and true technique to victory. The old pirate may be ruthless, but he was defeatable.

"I thought I smelled you in town," Killian said jovially with a wide grin, holding out his arms as far as he could with the other two henchmen at his side.

"And I should have known that you wouldn't miss out on the gold." Blackbeard seemed to be playing the same game as he - fake pleasantries over an underlying tone of menace.

"The stories I’ve been hearing,” Killian shrugged before he continued, “I thought you'd be willing to share if I helped you bring it in." He wasn't even trying to hide the lie. It didn't matter.

He wasn't surprised when the captain and his crew burst out laughing at his words. He was counting on it, in fact - an over the top suggestion to distract them enough for him to grab hold of the dagger literally hidden up his sleeve.

"Thank you, Hook, I needed a laugh," Blackbeard said breathlessly as he wiped an imaginary tear. "As if I would ever need your help… or another pocket to share my gold."

"It was worth a try, don't you think? I heard the job was dangerous. And let's be honest, mate, the members of your crew are not exactly the sharpest." Killian grinned as he clicked his hook against the sword against his neck. He also took this moment to take a closer look at the crew and assess his situation. 

There was only one gun among the 5 crew members and none on Blackbeard. The bastard wasn't exactly reserved in his use of arms, shooting his guns at anyone who crossed his path. He seemed to forget that acquiring bullets was expensive and Killian could only conclude he didn’t have the gold to spend on acquiring more.

He could see a cutlass on each pirate. Which of course did not include the numerous - he was sure - daggers hidden on their collective persons. They were pirates after all.

"Dangerous…" Blackbeard chuckled. "Well, that’s not exactly true…” he shrugged. “Had to make the story a little more interesting, you know.” Blackbeard pulled on a chain as the pirates holding their weapons against him turned Killian towards the person at the end of said chains.

It was a boy.  

"What is this?!" His surprised shout echoed in the cave.

"This, my friend," Blackbeard began, pulling the chains so that the boy awoke from his slumber. "is the bounty. As you can see, it wasn't as difficult to acquire as you heard."

It had to be a trick. Powerful mages were known to hide their true appearance, trick their attackers - that had to be what was happening here.

The bounty, now fully awake, sat up with effort, his wrists chained up. He was pale, as if his life had been sucked from him. The child's eyes landed on him - such despair, such fear contained within. Killian caught his breath, and for a moment, it was as if he was looking in the mirror.

Blackbeard seemed unaware of Killian's inner turmoil, however. With another tug, he sent the boy sprawling on the floor and Killian took an instinctive step towards them only to stop when he felt the cold metal still held at his throat. The boy whined, clearly weak.

"It was like taking candy from a babe,” Blackbeard gloated. “He was so scared, he didn't even put up a fight."

Similar statements echoed in his head, a hint of the panic he had felt - what seemed like centuries ago - constricting his chest. Where that sentence gave Blackbeard an obvious and deep satisfaction, it caused sympathy to rise up in Killian. With a heave, Blackbeard held the chains up, forcing the boy to his feet. With his other hand, he grabbed the boy's face in his. "Isn't that right, brat? You even begged."

The boy's fear was like a physical thing, a weight in Killian's gut. Had he, so long ago, been that different from this child?

Making a split second decision, Killian used his hook to push the sword away from his neck while with his other hand holding the dagger, he slashed the gun-wielding pirate in his stomach. At the same time, knowing he would pull the trigger, Killian took a step back - the expected shot hitting the other pirate instead of him. 

Two down, four to go. 

"Get him!" Blackbeard shouted, once he realized what was happening. The boy, no longer being held, fell in a heap on the floor. 

The dagger still in his hand was thrown at another pirate’s chest. Moving quickly, Killian removed a dagger from his right boot. Ducking to avoid an opposing dagger, he sunk his into the approaching pirate’s side.

Four down, two to go. 

The last pirate approached him fast. Killian kicked him away, giving himself time to unsheathe his sword. Blackbeard wasn’t known to employ the smartest of men - you didn’t need smart, you needed a body able to follow orders and withstand the rough life at sea. Killian had training and his wits, his adversary didn’t. Brute force was nothing without accuracy. Killian’s sword slashing his enemy's thigh as his hook sank into his shoulder was enough to bring the man down.

“Useless rats!” Blackbeard raged, wielding his sword. “It won’t be so easy to get through me, boy!”

He was right. Killian had had enough run-ins with Blackbeard to know that he was indeed a much more formidable swordsman than his crew. Not enough to worry him, however. 

It might be extremely arrogant of him to think that way with a very real enemy eager to end his life standing in front of him, but Killian knew his own strengths and he knew how to win.

Movement to the side drew his attention. As he stopped Blackbeard’s strike to his head with his sword and hook, he could see the boy shuffle to a sitting position. Blackbeard’s hold on the boy’s face had left a mark. There were two deep red marks on his cheeks, a stark contrast against the paleness of his face.

A grunt from his rival drew his concentration back, he ought to be paying attention to the danger in front of him. The fight was taking too long. Killian needed to end it before any other pirates showed up. 

Summoning his strength, Killian pushed the sword away from his face, forcing it to the side. Dropping his own sword, Killian threw a mighty punch to the pirate’s face. With a quick glance towards the boy, he kicked Blackbeard away. With the boy pulling the chains taught, Blackbeard tripped, sending him falling back and hitting his head on the wall.

Only waiting a second to guarantee the unconsciousness of his rival and to grab his dropped sword, Killian made his way to the boy.

How could a boy so small be considered such a threat? A threat worth such a high bounty? Perhaps he was more dangerous than they all thought.

As he reconsidered his decision to free him, the child looked at him.

He had heard of spells cast with only a look. But what he felt wasn’t magic, it was recognition. He saw himself in the boy. He looked at him with fear but with an underlying feeling of hope. There was stubborn determination hidden in his thinned lips. The mirror staring back at him.

He hadn't asked what they wanted to do with him. He hadn't cared. Was he just as bad a man as his own father willing to lead a child to an uncertain future? No child deserved such a fate. 

In an impulsive move, Killian brought his hook down on the chains. He heard the child’s breath catch as he surely expected a mortal strike. Luckily, the chains broke immediately. They locked eyes once more. Surprise took the place of fear and Killian couldn’t help but notice how the child’s face slowly gained color, seeming more alive.

Magic chains, no doubt.

With a centering breath, Killian held out his hand to the child.

“What do you say we get out of here, lad?”

The child seemed to look for something in his gaze. Killian expected to feel the invasive nature of magic searching his soul, his intentions. But there was nothing.

But when the boy - having found whatever he was looking for - took his hand, he felt warmth. Magic or not, it felt good. Magic had never felt good before. 

He wasn’t aware of his held breath until he released it. Giving his head a slight shake, - he needed to focus - he looked around. The room they were in was still full of dead pirates and one unconscious captain, but he could hear others farther back in the cave. 

The boy's hand was limp in his grasp and he noticed his difficulty in standing up, his body weak. The cuffs that had been on his wrists had obviously drained him, exhausted him.

“Let’s go,” Killian tugged the boy's hand, his left shoulder carefully placed on his midsection. Standing up, the boy rested comfortably on Killian's shoulder. "Try to hold on, lad. It's going to be a bumpy ride."

He felt the boy's grip on his vest, strong enough to urge him into a run. It wasn’t long, unfortunately, until he heard thundering steps behind them. The other pirates were gaining on them, fast.

The child’s weight on his shoulder slowed Killian's rushed steps. Killian could hear the horse outside the cave guiding them in the right direction, the night’s full moon thankfully lighting their way. 

"Look out!" The boy's croaky warning rang out as Killian heard the whizzing of a dagger thrown at them, cutting his cheek but sinking into a nearby tree just outside the mouth of the cave. 

Daggers. Of course, he should have expected it. 

With a groan, Killian pulled the child to his arms. The horse was close, he needed to get the boy on it as fast as possible if they were going to escape.

He felt the boy's eyes on him, more specifically on the cut on his cheek.

"We're almost out of here, lad," Killian reassured, thinking the boy's gaze was of apprehension.

It seemed Killian Jones was in for a few more surprises.

It was as if time slowed down as the child wriggled out of his hold, landing on his hands and knees on the ground. Not wasting another moment, he watched as the child closed his eyes and held out his hands. A wave of energy, like a summer wind, burst from the child. When he looked at the previously-approaching pirates, they were all sprawled on the ground, unconscious.

Killian stared at the boy. He had known - had been told and feared - that he was a powerful mage, but seeing such a small child produce such impressive magic was both astounding and terrifying. 

“My name is Henry, by the way,” he said as he sat back on his heels and turned to Killian with a genial smile.

Before Killian could respond, they were interrupted by a whooshing sound and an orange light in front of them. That old bastard had been hiding a magic bean. It had likely been dislodged in the blast of Henry’s magic and activated. It was their best chance of escape.

"We have to go."

Rushing to the horse and untangling its leash from the tree, Killian mounted the animal. He and Roger moved quickly towards Henry, Killian reaching out a hand for the boy who seemed more interested in looking into the horse’s eyes. He raised his eyebrow at the boy, apprehensively glancing at the portal.

"What's his name?" Henry asked, keeping his gaze on the beast.

Safe to say, the question caught him off guard. "What?"

"The horse, what's his name?"

"You are seriously asking me this now?" Killian balked, pointing at the portal in front of them. "We have to go!" "It's rude not to ask for his name if I'm going to ride on him." Henry looked at him with clear and innocent eyes.

Killian sighed, looking up at the sky for a moment. "It's Roger. Happy?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.

Henry smiled brightly, holding up his hand. Killian pulled him up and deposited him behind him on Roger’s back. He rushed him forward as fast as he could, not wanting to let the portal go to waste.

“I’m Killian, by the way. Killian Jones,” he said as the boy wrapped his arms around his torso, his hold stronger than before.

He thought he could feel the boy's bright smile once again at his back. “Thank you, Killian Jones.” Henry’s words were the last thing he heard before the deafening sound of the portal took over as they approached and crossed.

He tried not to let his thundering heart and conflicting thoughts distract him from the sweltering heat and spice smell of Agrabah.

#cssns23 #ouat fic #ouat ff #killian jones #captain hook #henry mills #ouat #once upon a time #captain cobra #captaincobra #carolina writes #blackbeard #introducing roger the horse #parent for hire

[thelivingautomaton]

i started playing max payne 2 and was immediately so put off by how he no longer has sam lake's face that i decided to put together a collection of some of the max payne 1 panels that i really liked. enjoy <3

#max payne #max payne 1 #remedy entertainment #sam lake #remedyverse #idk depending on how well-designed they are maybe i'll make a post of my favorite max payne 2 panels also #but like. i know literally they had 0 money when making the first game which is why sam lake just used his own face #(also he got his parents to model as woden and horne which is so incredibly funny/based of him to do) #and then for the sequel they could hire actual professional models/actors #but like c'mon. max payne 2 looks like a generic middle-aged dad protagonist of a 2000s action blockbuster #by comparison sam lake has such an interesting face (which if anything fits the raymond chandler film noir vibes even better) #i have very high hopes for the remake(s) that remedy is handling but in a way i hope they keep at least some of the unpolished aspects #anyway sorry y'all the remedy brainworms have gotten me there's no escaping this

[rosewheresheshouldntbe]

Rose shouldn't be in a little boat on a lake.

Rose absolutely shouldn't be in a little boat on a lake, I don't think she was even taught how to row a boat yet!

Hey, I think someone should go check on her.

Sprite is by @hsrips • 1rst background img https://www.locationscout.net/russian-federation/29071-parking-for-small-fishing-boats-on-the-lake-during-sunset • 2nd background img https://fineartamerica.com/featured/little-boat-upon-the-sea-judy-via-wolff.html

#I think we may need someone to swim out there & go get little Rose #I don't think even she herself knows how to swim yet! that's rather concerning #how did she even get out that far? where are your parents? oh... my apologies #someone really should hire a proper babysitter for her; jeez #all we can hope is that mom lalonde takes notice before she's out there for too long #hs rose getting up to more trouble; where & when will she be next? #rosewheresheshouldntbe #rose lalonde #homestuck #originals

[benrybenrybenry-chr]

I can never truly claim that Sherlock Holmes is a small fandom despite nobody my age in my city even really knowing abt it because it USED to be so popular and adapted every five seconds but it ISNT anymore and everyone only knows bbc sherlock which is FINE but I'm DISAPPOINTED and-

#acd canon #sherlock holmes #acd holmes #acd sherlock holmes #like yeah we get a bunch of media for it but im tired of not being able to talk abt it #to literally anyone i know irl #my parents hire a cleaner for our house #I talked their ear off the other day #sorry Kris I didnt. mean to do that. it was the autism #my online friends dont really know anything abt it either?? so #my rants fall heard but not understood #siiigh

[soup-of-the-daisies]

[opens fic] “moony has always been the smartest out of all of us” [closes fic]

#I’m curating my internet experience you see #dldr in action. it’s how it works #that being said remus was NOT the smartest #teenage remus holding a book once does not equate to being very clever #i don’t think a man running away from literally any type of hard situation is one to use his brain regularly i’m sorry #abandoning harry after sirius dies remus yes how smart of you. it’s not like you’re now the last semi-positive connection to his parents #all three of them #keeping an escaped alleged convict’s sneak-away-scot-free ability to yourself whilst said convict may be targeting your dead bff’s child… #OHHH HOW SMART #i don’t even see it as selfpreservation at this point. he just wasn’t thinking at all other than like #wallowing in self-pity. oh no james’ son looks like james. oh no i’m a werewolf. oh no sirius is the embodiment of all of my regrets #how many times do you think remus spotted padfoot watching harry from the shrubbery and he just went ‘none of my business’ #like this wasn’t the exact reason he got hired in the first place. #tagging this #remus lupin critical #just to be safe #fanon remus would literally maul canon remus and people would kiss his casanova feet for it

[breadandblankets]

im no poet but elaine's powers being for hiding and concealing but duke's powers being for illuminating and revealing

elaine running and hiding in order to protect and duke digging his heels in and turning to face the music

just thinking about some potential story line where duke is fighting for his parents ability to live their life in peace, unmolested by some powers that be, something that for sure (sarcasm) doesn't have real life parallels

when running and hiding fails then all that's left is to stand and fight

#this thought didn't go where i thought it would #dc hire me (joke) #batfam #duke thomas #elaine thomas #if dukes parents die in the comics im going to rain a hell so terrible that ancestors will writhe and descendants will drown (normal) #bread talk