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merrybloomwrites · 11 months

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You Can Start a Family (Chapter 1)

Summary: During their break from Love on Tour, Mitch and Sarah make a new friend. She's spent years taking care of herself and others, nearly to the point of burnout, and they have plenty of love to share. The couple becomes a trio, and eventually a quartet after Harry finds out the truth about the relationship between Mitch, Sarah, and Y/N.

Hi everyone!! I've had this idea brewing for awhile and finally started writing it. For those who found this in the Harry Styles x Reader tag, I promise he will enter into the story later. Not to give too much away but it will eventually be the 4 of them all together privately but as 2 separate couples publicly.

I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort and all things soft, and am branching out into more spicy territory, so this should me a good mix of both. I hope you enjoy!

(yes the title is from Matilda, it's a found family story, of course the title is from Matilda!)

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Mitch and Sarah had been touring with Harry for years, and they loved every minute of it. They got to play for wonderful crowds of fans, explore new places, and meet new people while falling ever more in love.

But when Mitch’s mother, Tammy, was diagnosed with cancer and had to undergo a series of surgeries, they immediately made the decision to sit out the Asia and Australia leg of tour to be with family. The doctors were very confident that they would get all of the cancer, but everyone was still nervous.

The first surgery had been a success. There were 2 days in between procedures to give Tammy time to recover. Mitch and Sarah spent plenty of time at the hospital with her to keep her company. They shared stories, played cards, even sang to her when she was dealing with pain.

On the second day post-op Mitch’s father, Mark, went to the hospital early in the day and asked for some time to be alone with his wife. Mitch and Sarah let him know that they would come in the afternoon and bring lunch for everyone. That morning they decided to walk around the neighborhood.

Mark and Tammy had moved into their house two years prior. They had sold Mitch’s childhood home in the center of town to buy a house in a quieter area. It really was a lovely street they lived on, quiet with lots of open land. Even though it was only late-February, the weather that day was mild, making for a very pleasant walk.

The residents of the neighborhood were all very friendly. Everyone Mitch and Sarah walked past shared a greeting with them which Sarah reciprocated with a cheerful good morning as Mitch politely waved.

When they were almost back at the house, they came across a young woman pushing a stroller. She looked to be in her mid-20s, and they guessed the little boy was roughly 15 months old.

Mitch and Sarah had discussed having children of their own. They always knew that they had a lot of love to share and a desire to care for someone but decided to remain child free. They felt that with their lifestyle they wouldn’t be able to give a little one their full attention.

“Good morning,” the young woman said with a smile and a slightly confused look on her face.

“Good morning,” Sarah replied before turning to the stroller to greet the toddler. As she waved to him, Mitch reached his hand out to the girl to introduce himself. “I’m Mitch, and this is my wife, Sarah.”

“I’m Y/N, I actually recognized you guys. I’m a fan of Harry Styles, and I think you both are really awesome.” Internally, Y/N was freaking out at casually bumping into two of her favorite musicians, but she was determined to remain calm and casual.

“Aw, thank you, that’s so sweet!” Sarah said. “What is your son’s name?”

“His name is Ryan, and he’s actually not mine. I’m the nanny. It’s a common mistake.” It truly was. Every time you were seen in public with Ryan people assumed he was your son. For a 26-year-old who looks so young that you still get carded every time you go to a bar, having a toddler as a companion suddenly ages you in strangers’ eyes.

“You said you’re a Harry fan, is this little one a fan as well?” Sarah asked.

“Oh, he definitely is. He loves music, and every time I put on videos of Harry, he pays close attention. Even when I put on One Direction, he’s most focused when Harry sings.”

“Have you been to any of Harry’s shows?” Mitch asked.

“Yea, I actually went to one of the Chicago shows. It was amazing! I had such a fun time. He puts on a great show, and you guys and the whole band are really talented.”

“What’s your favorite song of Harry’s?” You were about to answer Sarah’s question when Ryan started kicking and yelling.

“I’m sorry, he doesn’t love being in the stroller too long, especially if we’re not moving. I should get him home so he can run around before nap time.”

“Oh of course! It was lovely meeting you Y/N,” Sarah said as Mitch smiled and waved next to her. You waved good-bye and started walking down the driveway to Ryan’s home, noticing Sarah and Mitch walk into the house directly across the street.

Once you got back to the house, your internal freak out finally became an external freak out. “Ryan! That was Mitch and Sarah! We bumped into Mitch Rowland and Sarah Jones, how crazy is that?” Ryan stared at you and you imagined he was thinking that you were the crazy one, freaking out over random people. You continued on with your day, deciding that afternoon to bake cookies for the couple. Ryan was a wonderful helper, pulling every mixing pot and utensil he could find out of the kitchen drawers to scatter all over the floor while watching you do something he’d never seen done before. You talked him through every step of the cookie baking process, thinking that every activity is a new learning adventure for the little guy.

Meanwhile, Mitch and Sarah spent a couple of hours that afternoon visiting Tammy in the hospital. She had been told the first surgery was successful and that they would move onto the next step as planned. She was also feeling better than she thought she would having just had surgery. She knew that it was going to get harder as they did the final two procedures, so she was happy to spend time with family while she was feeling up to it.

Mark had gone home for a little while and came back around 5 in the evening, sending Mitch and Sarah home so he could have dinner with his wife. They said good-bye and let her know they would be back the next morning before her second surgery.

Shortly after, Y/N finished her workday and went to drop off the cookies on her way home. She knocked on the door and a moment later Sarah answered.

“Hi! Ryan and I baked cookies today and wanted to share with you and Mitch.”

“Thank you so much! Are these snickerdoodles? Those are my favorite!”

“Yes, they’re mine too! I used my grandmother’s recipe. We used to bake them together for like, every holiday.”

Mitch walked into the entryway as you finished speaking. Sarah handed him the container saying “Look, Y/N baked us cookies. Isn’t that sweet?”

He smiled softly saying, “Thanks. Can I actually ask a favor?”

You nodded, having no idea what he would say next.

“Can you not post online about us being here? We’re here for a family matter and don’t really want anyone to know about it. Or know where we are.”

“Oh of course! I would never share where you all are. I don’t really post online at all anyway. My Tik Tok and Instagram are pretty much just of my cats.” You forced yourself to stop talking before you made your life sound incredibly sad. Because truthfully, you felt it kind of was. You had barely any friends in the area or living family members. Aside from going to work, you didn’t get out much. You spent most weekends at home with your cats reading or bingeing the same TV shows over and over again. But no one needed to know that.

“Thanks, we really appreciate it. It can be hard to have privacy sometimes and right now being home with family we really need it.”

“If there’s anything else you need just let me know! I’m right across the street most of the time and my apartment is only a few minutes from here. Have a great night you two!” They said good-bye and you got back in your car before you could say anything to make a fool of yourself. You felt you had done well so far, but you were secretly fangirling and were afraid that it was only a matter of time before something crazy slipped out of your mouth.

You hadn’t lied when you said you never posted on social media. There was no way you were spreading personal information over the internet, especially personal information about someone else. However, it was difficult to not immediately call up your best friend and tell her who you had met. You were just so excited to have interacted with Mitch and Sarah. You had been a huge fan of theirs for so long. There wasn’t much about them online, just short snippets from concerts and interviews here and there. It was hard to guess how they would be in real life, but so far, they seemed like sweet, down to earth people.

When you got back to your apartment you took a quick shower, had dinner, and decided to read some of your book. You were nervous that if you touched your phone, you’d call your friend, so you ended up going to bed quite early to avoid temptation. You fell asleep thinking back on the interactions of the day, happier than you had felt in a long time.

What you didn’t realize is that you had made an impact on Mitch and Sarah as well. After you left, they sat down to have dinner together and you became a topic of conversation.

“She seems sweet,” Sarah said.

“Yea. And calm.”

“I didn’t even guess she was a fan and recognized us at first, she was so casual.”

“Well, you were also distracted by the baby. You missed the barely contained panic on her face when we first said hi.”

“Ah so that’s why you introduced yourself. It did seem out of character for you to strike up the conversation.”

“I’m not completely socially inept Sarah, I can talk to people when I want to. I just don’t always want to.”

“I know that. I was just curious about what you saw in her that made you want to talk to her. Thought maybe it had something to do with that conversation we had a couple weeks ago. I know I thought back to it when she stopped by with the cookies. She is rather pretty.”

Mitch put down his fork and just stared at his wife for a moment. He knew exactly which conversation she was bringing up. One they had after Harry’s birthday party post Palm Springs night 2. After Harry’s birthday show the whole band and crew went to a club that had been reserved for their group. While Harry generally liked a more laid-back birthday dinner, he figured since it was also the end of the US leg of tour, they all deserved to go a little wild.

On top of their normal entourage there were a fair number of people in attendance that Mitch and Sarah didn’t recognize but assumed either knew Harry or were somehow connected through their networks. Well into the night, when everyone was feeling rather loose thanks to the alcohol in their systems, a young woman came up to the married couple. She introduced herself as Colleen, and let them know that if they were interested, she would be more than happy to please them both. They were startled by how forward she was, and immediately, but politely, turned her down. Once she walked away, they shared a surprised look.

After getting back to their hotel, Sarah brought up the interaction suddenly while getting ready for bed. “Maybe we should’ve said yes.”

“Said yes to what?” Mitch asked, slipping out of his jeans and throwing them on top of his shirt that was already piled on the floor.

“Said yes to that girl.”

“What girl?” Drunk Mitch wasn’t always the best at paying attention enough to store conversations in his memory.

“Colleen. You know, the one who offered the three way.”

“Oh.” Mitch joined his wife in the bathroom so he could see her while they had this conversation. “Is that something that you would want?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. Obviously, it’s not something I need. You keep me more than satisfied, so this isn’t about anything being missing. But you know I’ve always been interested in experimenting with a girl.”

“I still can’t believe you spent years touring with bands and never once hooked up with a girl.”

“Yes well, I was focused on work at the time. It just didn’t seem all that important.”

“But now you’re interested in the possibility again?”

“Part of me feels like I want to have that experience, even just once. I mean I know you’ve experimented with boys. You and Harry had your fling in Jamaica.” Mitch smiled thinking back to the writing trip they took when working on the first album, before the touring band had been brought together and he met Sarah.

“Alright. Maybe we’ll meet someone who’s a good fit for us to branch out a little and have some fun. But right now, I am drunk and exhausted so let’s get some sleep and talk about this again when we’re more coherent.”

They didn’t talk about it the next morning as they dealt with their hangovers, nor did it come up in the following weeks. Not until Sarah casually mentioned it at Mitch’s parents’ kitchen table on a random Wednesday in February. Just as Mitch was about to reply his father walked in, effectively cutting off the conversation. But now it was on top of both their minds, surely not to be forgotten for weeks once again.

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Chapter 2 is posted here!

If there are any specific scenarios you want to see with this dynamic let me know and I'll try to work them in! I might do some blurbs outside of the main story as well.

Hope you enjoyed, and I'd love to hear your thoughts and feedback!! (or if you find a typo, feel free to point it out!)

#sarah jones x reader #mitch rowland x reader #harry styles x reader #mitch rowland x sarah jones #mitch rowland x sarah jones x reader #sarah jones x mitch rowland x reader #mitch rowland x harry styles

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angelisgonnastartchangingurls · 2 months

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lana on a tuesday

annie hated this fucking woman. she didn't really know what to do about it. fire her as a patient? it was an option. every week, she came in complaining about every interaction in her life, seemingly never connecting the dots. annie patiently tried to get her to imagine her life from the perspective of others to no avail. annie often cried after lana's sessions.

this week, lana was upset about a comment a coworker had made about her manner of dress -- she'd commented that it was very formal, and lana took this as a slight. she told annie that she'd attempted to get several coworkers to wear tuxedos and ball gowns to mock this woman. they had not agreed to it.

"that makes sense to me," annie said.

"why?" lana said.

"because it's a bitchy thing to do."

lana snorted. "not very professional language, doctor."

"sometimes there's only one word for something. well, maybe two."

lana got where annie was going with this. "fuck you."

"lana," annie said. "do you know the saying, 'if you meet one asshole in a day, you met an asshole...'?"

"i'm paying you to say this to me?" lana said. "what are you, fucking 26 years old? what do you know about anything?"

"i have a doctorate in psychology." annie knew she was pushing lana, and she was officially doing it on purpose. "it may not compare to an associates degree from antisocial bitch secretarial academy but--"

lana slapped her.

"oh," annie said.

lana stormed out of the office.

annie laughed, and then cried. then she slowly crossed the hall to mark's office to borrow a cigarette.

"what happened?" he asked.

"patient hit me," she said.

"holy shit," mark said. "did you deserve it?"

"kind of," annie said.

"guy grabbed my throat one time," he said. "a vet with PTSD. hard to blame him. he was very apologetic and we made a lot of progress."

"i'm never letting that patient back into the building," annie said.

"well, your call," he said.

annie took the cigarette he extended to her and went back to her office. she leaned out the window and smoked slowly.

"annie?" a voice called. it was ted. shit. she'd lost track of time and it was ted's appointment now.

"you're a smoker?" he said, bemused.

"no," she said, stubbing it out. "only when i'm stressed out."

"sorry to hear that," he said. "what happened?"

"a patient got physical with me," she said.

ted looked around, like he was immediately ready to go to battle for annie. she was charmed. "it was a woman," she clarified. just a slap. one that i probably deserved."

"i doubt that," ted said.

annie was pulling herself together. "come in, sit down, sorry, i didn't realize the time."

"it's fine," he said, settling down. annie immediately grinned at his pleasant, handsome face.

"it's nice to see you," she said.

ted had good news and bad news -- more of the same old bad news. but the good news was, he'd talked to his daughter and she'd been horrified to hear he'd thought there was any defiance in her gesture. she'd been worried he was mad she was having oral sex with her boyfriend but told him at once it had never occurred to her to cover herself from him. he'd clarified that oral sex was a great thing to be doing at her age. he also mentioned that this morning, while his wife was still in bed, his daughter had come out of the shower fully nude to chat with him.

annie's first instinct was that this was a little weird, but at the same time if ted had asked her to get naked in her office right now, she'd probably have done it, and not even in a sexual way. just a show of general affection and trust.

ted went on to talk about some recent conflicts with his wife. god, this woman never stopped moving the goalpost on this poor guy. he told me that the only time they felt connected at all was when they were fucking, which luckily still happened very often. he said a few nights ago, the last time, he'd watched her sucking his cock and wondered how she could be like this in the bedroom and so unlike it everywhere else. annie was extremely aware that the image of ted getting his cock sucked was making her panties damp.

"maybe you're just really good at sex?" annie proposed, angry at herself for flirting instead of working.

"ha," he said. "maybe."

"i do think you could focus on that," she said. "just... have sex as often as possible. keep the positive emotions going."

"i'm lucky if i can manage two times in a day," he said.

"i've got those pills," annie offered. "i mean, just to try as something for your wife, not for you."

"do you have any experience with them?" ted asked. "i mean, probably not. you're so young."

"i do actually," annie said. "i had a partner who was older, and we used one."

"how did it work?"

"oh, very well," annie giggled.

"no, i mean like, what exactly did he do?"

"oh," annie said. "well, he took a pill just as we started fooling around, and he spent some time going down on me. then he told me to go down on him, and... pop. he um, got hard in my mouth and he stayed hard for a very long time."

"how long? like, ask your doctor if..."

"no, no," annie said. "but he had two orgasms and the first one, i don't even know when it happened," she said. "i just... you know, i realized after. we didn't stop between them."

"that'd be nice," he said.

"yeah," she said. she got up and gave him a sample pack. "don't take more than one at once."

"i like that you shared that with me," ted said. "you know, it's the same trust and intimacy you were talking about with my daughter."

"yes, i suppose so."

"it was not a conscious disclosure, then? not a therapist tactic."

"what do you mean?"

"sometimes, you're a little flirty with me," ted said. "and it feels like a sort of therapist's trick. it's not a bad thing, but just... i was wondering if that's what the viagra story was."

annie grinned. "ted, i do really trust you so i will be totally candid," she said. "i do flirt and disclose things about myself as a sort of technique for building trust or affection with patients. and i have done that with you in the past. but honestly, today i am just being flirty and honest because i had a hard time with my last patient and i trust and feel safe with you. i like you, i think you're a good guy."

"i appreciate that," ted said. "you have had a long day. you want to blow off the rest of our hour and i'll buy you a drink?"

annie sighed. "yes," she said.

sitting across from ted in a booth at a bar, annie felt like he was much more physically imposing. he was about 6 feet for sure, with a broad chest and big arms. that was the part she was noticing more. the big shoulders in the small booth. annie felt tiny across from him in a way that made her shockingly aroused. in her spacious office, she was in control. her chair was taller than the couch, and she always sat very unright around ted, to show her attentiveness and to make her tits look bigger. and because she often had her back to the window, she often felt even more elevated or removed. here, they were so close together. she wondered if he could smell her.

"you have a boyfriend?" he asked.

"yeah," annie said. "ryan."

"what does he do?"

"he's a lawyer for a medical company. we met at a conference."

"that's kind of cute," ted said. "a little cross-industry romance."

"well, it was a drunken hookup at first," she said.

ted laughed.

"but then it just... kept going."

"how is it going now?"

"well, i don't really feel like he ever asks me anything about myself anymore," she said. "and i always initiate sex. he's always distracted. i'm throwing myself at him."

"lucky guy," ted said. "sounds like he's not as good at compartmentalizing work from life as you are."

"yeah," annie said, seeing ryan more charitably all of a sudden. "i mean, i was trained to do that."

"do you think that ever backfires?" ted asked. "does it make you kind of an emotional robot?"

"when i'm on the phone with my mom," annie replied.

ted laughed again. "you are very funny."

annie was imagining what it would be like if ted fucked her in his car. would he even be able to move with shoulders that big?

"what do you like best about your boyfriend?" he asked.

"he's so good with people," annie said. "remembers names, knows how to hang with anybody, he's the life of the party in a classy way," she said. "what do you like best about your wife?"

ted thought. "her pussy."

annie laughed. "honestly, i hope that's ryan's answer too. all of my holes."

she put her hand over her mouth in shock -- she hadn't meant to say something so dirty to ted. he was grinning.

"how do you think he'd rank them?" he asked.

"ass, mouth, pussy," annie said immediately.

"pussy last?" ted said. "no way."

"well, he gets my ass least often," she said. "and i know i give really good head."

"but i'm sure your pussy is immaculate," he said. annie's mouth involuntarily opened a bit. "especially in the summer when you shave it all clean for him?"

"well i shave it for bikinis," she said. "not him. i keep it smooth underneath, for him, all year."

"i love that about you," he said. "a busy professional woman but you know how to take care of your pussy."

"i sure do," she said.

"i love talking about this with you."

"me too," annie said. "but honestly my panties are so wet i really need to go to the bathroom and take them off because i'm very uncomfortable now," she said.

"be my guest," he said.

annie fantasized he'd follow her in. she'd have done anything he wanted. but he didn't. she went back to the booth and did a little performative shiver.

"where are they now?" he asked.

"in my purse," annie said. she lifted them out just slightly.

"red," he said. "nice."

"i know we're really crossing some lines here," annie said. "but i hope that's OK. i hope that you don't think less of me as a therapist."

"I can see you both as a therapist and as a woman," he said.

Annie mentally began to chew on the ambiguity of that statement.

"We're both going to go home after this and fuck the shit out of our significant others," he said. "And we've helped each other, in that way."

"Yes," Annie said. "Yes."

They said goodbye shortly after. Ryan texted Annie to see if she was coming over. "Not tonight," she texted. "Feeling a little under the weather."

She went back to her apartment and masturbated for four hours.

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klonoa-at-blog · 8 months

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From: Klonoa 2: Lunatea’s Veil Official Guide Book (Published by Famitsu/Enterbrain - 2001) (Pg. 201)

~Messages from the Klonoa 2 Staff~ Lastly, we would like to show you messages from those who were involved in the development of Klonoa 2 to the public. You'll find hard work, inside stories, and a few positive ones(?!) here and there! ......So, thank you all for your hard work!

Yoshihiko Arawi Profile: ● Age: 31 years old ● Blood Type: AB ● Responsibilities: Graphics director, character design, scenario, direction, etc. (Art Director, Lead Character Artist, Screenplay) ● Comments: This was the result of our staff’s blood, sweat, tears, and many other efforts. I am proud to say that we have been able to provide deep gameplay that stimulates the imagination through hidden elements and underlying themes, character movements, and the thoughts entrusted to the background world. We hope you enjoy the game in a natural way, without worrying about such things. First and foremost, have a pleasant adventure in this world! ● Favorite characters: The more I struggled, the more I love and hate Klonoa (laugh). In terms of design, Tat and Spooky Moo are the most like me.

Mika Tominaga Profile: ● Age: Secret ● Blood Type: O ● Responsibilities: Chief of the background team (Background design and production) ● Comments: Tranquility, joy, discord, indecision, and sorrow. Each kingdom of Lunatea is based on human emotions. We prepared the stage for Klonoa, a place where people can be at peace, have fun, be angry, be troubled, be sad, accept these emotions, and grow up. I would like to thank the background staff, the Klonoa team, and all the players who played the game with us. Thank you! ● Favorite character: Joila, the idol of Joilant Fun Park.

Manabu Okano Profile: ● Age: 29 years old ● Blood Type: Unknown ● Responsibilities: 3D character model chief, character lighting, etc. ● Comments: Enjoy the dynamic movements of the characters and their emotional portrayals. ● Favorite character: King of Sorrow

Naoko Ishizu Profile: ● Age: ? years old ● Blood Type: O ● Responsibilities: Leorina and puppets in general (Character Animation, Lead Puppet Display Scriptor) ● Comments: I am very attached to Leorina because it was the first time for me to create a model, and I had a lot of hard work to do. When deciding on the camera angle for the puppets, I thought, “It would be cooler to shoot from below to make her look more intimating.” I tried to create impactful atmosphere for Leorina, even though she did not appear in the game very often. ● Favorite character: Leorina

Daigo Okumura Profile: ● Age: 26 years old ● Blood Type: O ● Responsibilities: Lolo’s model, motion production, background character production, etc. ● Comments: I have a confession to make, but there was one part in Lolo’s creation that left me with some regret before the final mastering. When Mr. Arai was thinking up Lolo’s favorite thing, I felt I had to make a statement: “Lolo’s favorite thing is mocha java, it’s the only way! It’s perfect! Perfect!” But I was rejected without a second thought. I hope to work without regrets next time. ● Favorite character: Tat

Aiko Shimosako Profile: ● Age: 26 years old ● Blood Type: O ● Responsibilities: Backgrounds (3D Background Design) ● Comments: I was in charge of designing the puppet display backgrounds and a few backgrounds for the main game. I became a big fan of Klonoa: Door to Phantomile before I joined the company, and my first project after joining was Klonoa 2. The thing that remains in my memory are the bugs we had with puppet displays. Unlike bugs during gameplay, the bugs concerning puppet displays were interesting. Too bad we can’t see them anymore in the full version. (Of course!!) ● Favorite character: Moo! (Especially the ones that sleep)

#klonoa #leorina #tat #king of sorrow #moo #lunatea's veil #translation #yoshihiko arai

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focsle · 1 year

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“I wish you a Merry Christmass at Home” 2nd mate of the whaleship Arnolda Benjamin Boodry wrote in the margins for his entry on this day in 1852. He consoled himself with his lot with a refrain he wrote often over the years: “But it is not for life if it is for 4 years”. On Christmas eve, he shared where his subconscious was spending its time:

“A pleasant dream about home and loved ones I wish I was there to night I think I should call on some of my friends if it was not to late But there is many a calm, squall, and gale to pass over my devoted head before that day comes.”

Holidays tended to bring out the sentimentality in many whalers who were so long and far from what they felt was home. Here are a handful:

Allen Newman, Edward, 1848

“I wish all my friends A merey Christmus which is more than I anticipate for myself.”

Mary Lawrence, Addison, 1858

“Christmas Day reminds us of home and friends. Minnie wished to hang up her stocking as usual, and as I had a tin of candies which her grandpa put up for her, “Santa Claus” managed to fill it very well. We sat down to a Christmas dinner of two roast turkeys, sweet and Irish potatoes, boiled onions, stewed pumpkin and cranberries, pickles, and a nice indian pudding made of milk and eggs. Had a goat killed for the benefit of those living in the forecastle, to which, I should think, they did ample justice as there are but two legs remaining.”

Joseph Dias, Ocmulgee, 1847

“Comes with strong breezes from the westward and overcast weather, steering S.E. with all sail set. This day I am 25 years old 25 what and not married yet are like to be shocking. But this is not all I am disapointed in. For I have been keeping Marys cake to celebrate my birth day with and this morning I took it out for the pourpus of eating but when I come to cut it I found it was spoiled a sad disappointment. But what grieves me most is to think I let it spoil after Mary took so much panes with it Oh dear Mary I hope you will not spoil so soon for the want of some one to take care of you.”

John Winslow, Wave, 1852

“Comes with a strong gale of wind from the E.ward this day My Wife is 26 years old if she is living and has got a poor sailor for a husband but it is not the worst for her for that May she live to enjoy many more years of Life and may they prove to be far happier than those that are past”

[Dec 26th]

“O if I could make 250 dollars this voyage I would not go to sea any more for it is a dogs life and sometimes when I think of the comforts of my home with my Wife and children I almost resolve never to go to sea again let me get a home of my own and I will stay by it.”

J.T. Langdon, St Peter, 1849

“The first part calm not a breath of air ruffled the face of the stormy deep. But with an ever rolling motion rocks our old ship like a vast cradle and the surface of the deep is like a vast mirror reflecting objects on its surface The first part ends Christmas and how many melancholy reflections come around unbidden and unasked for One year ago I was at home enjoying every pleasure that heart could wish friends to cheer and schoolmates to greet with a merry Christmas but now I am far away on the stormy ocean Many thousand miles intervene between this and my once happy Home”

John Martin, Lucy Ann, 1841

“As fine a day as we have had since we left the Capes of Delaware. The Watch on deck was employed in breaking out from the hold, bread, water, vinegar & other stores. We had Turtle Sea Pie for dinner. Take it altogether we spent a merry Christmas & more to my satisfaction than many a one I spent on shore.”

Benjamin Bourne, Annawann II, 1859

“[in the margins, alongside a stamp of a whale’s flukes] This Whale aught to have been saved - stove the boat Wish All a Mary Christmas Begins with a strong wind Bark steering S at 3 pm wind shifted to the Estrd a heavey rain squall took in sail to a close reef Main Topsail & staysails luffed to the wind heading SSE. Lat part at 9am saw a large sperm whale going slow into the SW so ends this day. [With an addendum on Jan 29th, 1899] I thought I was having a hard time 40 years ago but it was the best of my life.

Silliman Ives, Sunbeam, 1868

“The wheels of time have made another revolution and Christmas “Merry Christmas” is with us once again, although I can’t complain of being particularly merry, on the contrary I am rather inclined to feel somewhat sad. O Fate! Inexorable fate! that compels me to spend this holiday miles away from home and kindred, far out upon the surging billows of the Atlantic. Little did I think while enjoying the pleasures and amenities of this festival season one year ago among relatives and friends, that to day would find me here. But it is not given us to know the future, and it is a wise providence that withholds from us such knowledge, for had I known this was to be my destiny, any joy would have been sadly marred during that happy period. I wonder if the dear ones at home as they greet each other this morning, and exchange those endearing mementos common to this day, have a thought for their wild and reckless though still loving son, and brother, and cousin, who to day is separated from their hearths and homes by leagues and leagues of blue water. As the incense arises from off the family altar on this Christmas morning, is there a prayer breathed for the wanderer? I believe there is. Love conquers distance and in their hearts and their prayers he has his accustomed place.”

#long post //#awhalin #GOT KINDA SAD COMPILING THESE….love all u….#I’m fine and used to spending holidays alone but there is somethin about….goin through the journals of these lads also spendin them alone #LOVE ALL U LADS SO MUCH….

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 4 months

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Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 27: It's a Hell of a Christmas

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: T

Word Count: 8462

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 28 29 30 31 32

This fic was written for the CS Secret Santa event in 2022. It’s Emma and Killian’s first Christmas together following the Final Battle. After spending a happy family day together, they relax before the tree and Emma asks Killian about his favorite Christmas memory. His answer surprises both of them

CS Genre: Season 7 missing scene

1 week before the first Christmas following the Final Battle

Killian sighed in contentment as the sofa beside him dipped and Emma curled up beside him. Wrapping his hooked arm around her he pulled her to himself and gave her a quick kiss before she laid her head against his shoulder.

It had been about as close to a perfect day as he’d experienced in a long time. He’d woken up, as always, in his wife’s arms, smiling as she softly snored, burrowing into his warmth. After taking a few moments to simply enjoy the comfort, he’d carefully maneuvered out of the bed. He’d learned quite early in their marriage that a man was taking his very life into his hands when he was foolhardy enough to wake Emma before she was ready.

After a pleasant morning spent with Swan and her lad, she’d shoed the two of them out of the house, citing the fact that Christmas was fast approaching and she needed to wrap presents in peace without prying eyes

“I thought kids were bad, when it comes to looking for their hidden Christmas present,” she’d said with a grin, “but you, Killian, have them all beat.”

He’d grinned, leaning down to give her a loud, smacking kiss, before straightening and raising one eyebrow. “Pirate,” he stated simply.

She laughed, shoving him toward the door.

“Don’t forget my parents are coming over for dinner tonight,” she’d said, “and then they and little Neal are helping us trim the tree.”

He’d promised to return in plenty of time to help with dinner preparations, and then after one last lingering kiss (prompting Henry to make exaggerated gagging sounds behind them), he and the lad had taken their leave. They’d hardly walked a block toward town before they were met by Emma’s father and little brother.

“You guys get kicked out of the house too?” Dave asked.

“Aye,” Killian said with a nod. “It seems the Charming and Jones men are due for another of those–what did you call them?--guys’ days.”

And so they’d spent the afternoon enjoying the snow and the company–helping the lads build a snowman, waging an all out snowball war (which the Charming’s had won handily–but only because neither he nor Henry had the heart to toss a snowball anywhere near three-year-old Neal. Killian smiled as he recalled the tiny lad’s peals of laughter as his snowball connected with Henry’s shoulder and Emma’s lad had staggered, clutched his heart and then dramatically fallen to the ground), and then retired to Granny’s for some much appreciated sustenance.

“Well, I suppose I should get this little guy back home for his n-a-p,” Dave said as mid afternoon approached, making sure to spell the word he knew would result in a mutiny from his little lad, “but we’ll see you in a couple hours for dinner.”

It had been a pleasant evening with the family, as they set up the Christmas tree, trimming it with twinkling electric lights and bright, colorful baubles. Henry, with great fanfare, had presented him with a new ornament to mark his first official Christmas as Henry’s step-father. Killian groaned good-naturedly as he’d opened the box to reveal a small likeness of his Disney counterpart. He’d played up his disdain at the assassination of his character, before placing the ornament on prominent display.

It had been an ordinary day, spent engaging in ordinary family activities, and Killian wouldn’t have changed a moment of it.

The Charmings had remained until it was time to put the little prince to bed, and then they’d taken their leave, with many promises for more festivities in the coming days. Soon after, Henry had taken his leave, as he was due to spend a few days at Regina’s

“It really is a pretty tree, isn’t it?” Emma asked, as they lounged on their sofa looking up at the brightly lit fir in question.

“Aye,” Killian agreed. “A lovely tree, and a lovely evening.”

“Can you believe it?” she asked. “Our first Christmas together as a married couple and we get to spend it with no looming crisis hanging over our heads, no villains threatening us.”

“I rather think I could get used to this ‘Happy Beginning’ business we’ve found ourselves in,” he’d agreed.

Emma laughed, reaching up to absently run her fingers through his hair. She was so affectionate now, never passing up an opportunity to give him little signs of her love, and he found it utterly delightful.

“You must have a lot of stories from past Christmases,” Emma continued with a grin. “After all, you’ve celebrated like a million of them.”

“Oy!” he stated with mock offense, “It couldn’t have been more than two hundred fifty.”

She laughed joyously, and he grinned, turning to give her a quick kiss on the top of her head. “So what was your favorite Christmas, Killian?”

He thought about it for a moment, several memories running through his mind like one of those moving picture shows Swan and her lad enjoyed watching of an evening. One rather surprising moment stood out above all the others.

“You’ll think me mad,” he said finally, “but I think my favorite Christmas was actually last year.”

Emma sat up and looked at him with astonishment. “Last Christmas? But last Christmas we were in…”

He nodded. “Aye, quite so. Who would have believed my favorite Christmas memories would occur in the Underworld?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Everything hurt. Everything. His bones, his muscles, his sinews; he'd swear even his hair hurt if that were possible. Hades may be a bloody bastard, but never let it be said he wasn't skilled in the art of torture.

It was nearly Christmas. Killian likely wouldn't have marked the occasion, save for the festive elf costumes Hades insisted his demons wear as they went about their masochistic ministrations.

The demons themselves had heartily enjoyed themselves, singing Christmas song parodies as they whipped him and burnt him with hot pokers so brutally it had taken everything within him to keep from screaming in pain.

We wish you an awful Christmas,

We wish you an awful Christmas

and a hellish New Year!

…

Lord Hades is bringing the pain!

He sees you when you're sleeping

He knows when you're awake

He don't care if you've been bad or good,

He'll still throw you in his lake!

And so, it seemed he would. Angry that he couldn't break Killian, angry that despite it all, Killian refused to extinguish that last spark of hope he'd learned to foster, thanks to Emma and her family, Hades had decided to stamp it out of him in the only way he could--by lowering him bit by bit into the sickly green lake in which he would finally lose himself forever.

He supposed it was only just that it should all end this way. After his centuries of villainy he deserved nothing better. Once he was finally gone and lost forever, Emma and her family could return and build a happy life for themselves free of the pain and suffering he brought to everyone who came in contact with him.

His heart lurched at the thought of Emma. How he loved her! For one bright, shining moment, he'd allowed himself to believe they could be together, that he would achieve the happiness he'd fruitlessly searched for for so many decades, but then it had all gone to hell…literally.

The crane lowering him into the River of Lost Souls lurched downward yet again, and Killian focused on her, on his Emma. He was determined she would be the last thing he thought of before he could think no more.

"Killian!"

He would swear he could hear her beloved voice, but it was clearly a last trick of his deluded mind.

"Kilian," she said again, softer this time, tenderly. "Hang on. I’m coming for you. I got ya."

And then she was there holding him, freeing him from the chains, cradling him in her lap. Killian couldn't bite back the soft groans as his injuries complained of the contact.

The hope and joy Hades had failed to root out of him flared to life for a brief moment, but then reality set in once again.

"I told you to let me go," he said. "You shouldn’t be here; no one should."

She gave him a wry smile as she cupped his face, then gently swept the bangs from his forehead. "I never listen."

He smiled in spite of himself. "You’re impossible."

She grinned in response. "And you love me for it."

And gods but he did. More than she could ever know or comprehend. Soon enough he would have to send her home, protect her from himself and the absolute misery he brought to everyone with whom he interacted, but for now, for this one bright shining moment, he could do naught but enjoy the comfort her presence brought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that evening, promontory beside the lake of fire

“Liam! Please! Hold on!” Killian pleaded, holding onto his brother’s hand with all the strength within him.

If there had been any question at all before, it was gone now. This was well and truly hell.

Everything was crashing around him. Everything. His entire world was imploding, everyone he loved facing unimaginably horrific fates, and it was all his fault.

After rescuing him from the River of Lost Souls, Emma had poofed him back to the Underworld version of her home. She’d taken a seat on the musty sofa, calling him over to join her, patting the seat beside her.

“Come, sit down,” she cajoled, “Let me look at you.”

His wounds ached and throbbed. It was hard to breathe; hard to think; hard to keep from crying out with every movement. He couldn’t imagine what he must look like, his visage marred from the beatings he’d endured.

“Are you sure you want to?” he said wryly. “Hades sort of knocked the handsome out of me.”

She grinned playfully at him. “No one’s that powerful.”

Were their situation different, he’d have flirted back, made her laugh with his nonsense, but presently it was all he could do to shuffle over to the sofa and collapse beside her.

No sooner had he taken his seat than Emma waved her hand over him, and it felt as though a shower of pure, warm sunshine washed over him, taking with it the pain and injury and leaving him whole. Even yet, the strength and power of her magic astounded him.

For a moment, Killian felt nothing but relief.

And then reality set in yet again, as it always did in this terrible place. Emma was here, in hell itself, because of him, because of his weakness. Waves of self-loathing like nothing he’d ever experienced washed over him.

She leaned in toward him, lips moving toward his. He pulled back, turning his head. He was unworthy of her love, unworthy of anyone’s love.

“What’s the problem?” she asked, pulling back to get a better look at him.

“It’s just…” he began, struggling to even put into words the depths of his hatred of himself and what he’d done. “A lot has happened between us.”

“What’s the problem?” she asked.

How did she not see it? How was she still looking at him with love? Agitated, he got to his feet and paced away from her.

“I’m the problem,” he bit out. “Emma, you were the Dark One for six weeks and only gave into the darkness out of love. I plunged in head first in a second for revenge. I was weak.”

“Not in the end!” she insisted.

A single moment of heroism didn’t make up for centuries of villainy, and he well knew it. “You raised the bar very high, Swan. The fact is, I don’t measure up.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” she said, her voice insistent. “If you didn’t, would I have come all the way down here to try to save you?”

She would, and he knew it, because she was good. She was a hero. He was anything but.

“That’s my point. I’m not sure I deserve saving.”

Their conversation had been cut short in the most unexpected way–by the arrival of his brother Liam. What had followed were a few blessedly joyous and peaceful hours, as Killian introduced his first true love to his second. The two best people he’d ever known, together in one place. Despite his guilt and misery, he couldn’t suppress the joy the meeting brought.

But even this was destined to crash down around him.

It started with Emma’s superpower telling her something was amiss with Liam. Something had happened between the two of them, but Killian didn’t know what it was; didn’t want to know what it was.

He didn’t understand how Emma could think Liam, the most moral and straight-laced man Killian had ever known, could be anything but on the up and up, but she was quite convinced.

The moment Silver’s crew had shown up and proven Emma right had been the most disorienting moment of his life. It felt as though he were suffering from vertigo, his entire world turning upside down as the horrible truth settled in around him–Liam had lied to him, and not only that, he had entered into a deal with Hades, allowing the entire crew to be lost at sea in order to save Killian.

My fault, my fault, my fault! The words echoed in his mind like a mantra.

If it hadn’t been for Killian, Liam would never have fallen. Killian wasn’t merely cursed, he was the curse. He infected and destroyed everyone around him.

Everything had moved quickly after the horrible revelation, and Killian had been so shell-shocked he could do nothing but move with the inexorable tide.

Silver’s crew had marched Liam and himself to the lake of fire, intent on making the brothers Jones walk the plank, but their intentions were upended by the arrival of Hades himself.

Liam had, once again, attempted to shield Killian from his just punishment, and the result had brought them to the moment they now found themselves in–Liam slipping inexorably toward the lake of fire, Killian more terrified than he’d ever been. He couldn’t lose Liam again. Not now. Not like this.

“Liam! Please! Hold on!”

“I’m sorry brother, for all I’ve done,” Liam shouted above the flames threatening to consume him. “Can you forgive me?”

It wasn’t even a question. Like Emma, Liam had only fallen for one reason–love of him. His guilt was quite misplaced. “Yes, but that’s not what’s important. You need to find a way to forgive yourself.”

“I can’t, not after what I did to you.” The look in Liam’s eyes made Killian’s heart sink like a stone. “The only way to make amends is to pay the price.”

And then Liam let go.

Shear panic and aching horror took over, as Killian reached down, trying fruitlessly to stop what was happening.

But the panic was short-lived. A moment later, the flames disappeared to be replaced by a serene sea. Liam rose above all of it upon a little rowboat, a smile gracing his lips.

Killian felt the tears prickle behind his eyes, tears of relief this time. “Liam! You’re safe!”

Liam’s smile widened. “Yes, it appears I am. I suppose this is the sacrifice I should have made long ago. I can finally depart.”

Killian looked beyond his brother. Where once had stood the rocky wall of the cave, now was nothing but open waters and a port city which appeared stocked with all the provisions Liam would need for his next mighty adventure.

Liam had truly redeemed himself, and now his own personal paradise awaited him.

“Then go. All of you,” Killian said, gesturing to the remaining crew, “Now that you know the truth, your unfinished business is complete as well.”

“Get on board, men,” Liam said, offering the sailors a hand. “What about you, brother?”

Killian turned away. Liam deserved this. Silver’s crew did as well. He, most certainly, did not.

“I think not,” Killian said finally. “There’s nothing for me but the lake of fire. I deserve no better.”

Liam stepped out of the boat, instructing the first mate to leave without him. Insisting his everlasting reward could wait.

If anything, the pit in Killian’s stomach grew wider, into an abyss there would be no crossing. “Why would you do that?” he shouted. “Why would you delay your paradise? I’m. Not. Worth. It!”

Liam frowned. “That’s nonsense, brother. You’ve become a true hero in a way I never could.”

Killian scoffed. “A hero?” he scoffed, putting every ounce of derision he could muster into those two syllables. “I’m anything but. I’m a pariah to all who meet me. Everyone who has the misfortune of coming into contact with me is worse off–much worse off–for having known me. You would all be better off if I flung myself into that lake of fire, perishing once and for all.”

“You really think those who love you would be happier knowing you burnt to death in a lake of fire?” Liam asked softly. “Emma? Her lad? Me?”

Killian glanced aside. “Well, maybe not. Maybe it would have been better if I’d never been born.”

Liam was silent for a moment, thinking. “That’s an idea,” he muttered to himself. “What do you think, Zeus? That could work.”

Killian’s brow furrowed. “What are you on about?”

“Done, Killian,” Liam said, clapping his hands together. “You’ve never been born. You don’t exist.”

There was a flash of light, a clap of thunder, and then all went silent.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For a moment Killian merely looked at his brother.

“Pardon?” He said finally.

“You’ve never been born,” Liam repeated. “You don’t exist.”

“Then…who am I?”

“You’re no one,” Liam said. “Killian, you’ve been given a great gift, the opportunity to see what the world would look like if you’d never been in it. Are you ready to explore? To see the impact you have no longer had?”

Killian wasn’t sure he was ready for this. After all…it was altogether possible everyone was infinitely happier and more fulfilled without his toxic influence.

Still, he’d never been a coward. He didn’t intend to start now. “Very well, lead on.”

They made their way from the cave back to the filthy streets of Underbrooke. The first thing Killian noticed was that the town appeared far more crowded than it had when they entered the cave. Dozens, maybe hundreds of men dressed in uniforms he recognized as belonging to some of the rival kingdoms he had fought as part of the Royal Navy, milled about.

“Who are these men?” Killian asked. “Why have they suddenly arrived?”

“They haven’t suddenly arrived,” Liam said as they began making their way through the crowds. “They’ve been here for more than 200 years–ever since our corrupt king used dreamshade on them.”

“But that’s impossible!” Killian insisted after mumbling a quick apology to a man he bumped into. “We discovered the King’s plans for the dreamshade and we refused to turn over the poison!”

Liam shook his head. “You weren’t around to question the king’s command.”

“But surely you discovered the plant's properties and did the honorable thing,” Killian insisted.

Liam stopped suddenly, giving Killian a long look. “I wasn’t around either. Come. I have something I need to show you.”

Killian followed Liam back to the bar he’d tended since his death, questions swirling in his head.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

Liam was behind the bar, but he looked nothing like the Liam Killian knew and loved. This man was young, likely no more than eighteen or nineteen. There was a hard look about him, that of a man who had seen and endured far too much in the short time he’d lived.

A man who hadn’t had any hope.

Killian turned toward his guide, his Liam. “How are you…there and…here?”

“Properly speaking, I’m not,” Liam said. “As I’ve already, for all intents and purposes, moved on, I, like you, don’t exist here. The man you see behind the bar is Liam Jones as he would have been had you never been born.”

“Why is he so…young?”

Guide Liam sidled up to the bar, waving Killian over to join him. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“What’ll it be, gentlemen?” Young Liam asked in a bored voice, continuing to wipe down glasses as he eyed his new customers.

“I’m rather partial to whiskey myself,” Liam said genially, “and my brother here has a preference for rum, if I remember correctly.”

Young Liam nodded, and had just turned around to fulfill the request, when Killian finally found his voice. “Liam! It’s me!” he said. “It’s Killian!”

Liam raised an eyebrow. “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”

“Killian,” Killian insisted, “your younger brother.”

Young Liam frowned. “Never had a brother. Never had any family save for a mother who died far too young and a worthless arse of a father who sold me into servitude.”

“But–” Killian tried again, “even without me, all of your men, all of those who sailed under Captain Liam Jones loved you. They were a family to us…to you.”

Young Liam laughed bitterly, before leaning in, his lips turned down in a scowl. “I never had any men under my command. I never had command over so much as a cabin boy. I lived a slave, and I died one, just another nameless sot who drank too much and went down in a storm.”

Liam banged two tumbler’s of liquor in front of his patrons. “Now, you can either drink up or get the hell out of my bar. I’ve no stomach to relive my failures.”

When the bartender had turned away to wait upon another customer who had arrived, Killian turned toward his brother. “What is he talking about?”

Liam shrugged. “Without you in my life, Killian, I was utterly rudderless, lacking in any ambition to better myself. I never escaped Silver’s command, never even tried. I died in that storm, Killian. I along with that entire ship of hopeless men.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They consumed their beverages largely in silence after that, Killian’s unease growing the longer he thought about Liam as he would have been had things been different.

Was there any truth to what his brother said? Had Killian’s very brokenness inspired Liam to be a better man?

Taking the last sip, Killian got quickly to his feet, no longer interested in the bar or hearing any more sad tales about the bartender.

“Alright Liam,” he said to his guide, “where next?”

Liam thought for a moment before paying their tab and leading Killian out the door, the words “The Rabbit Hole” illuminated as it swung shut. “I think there’s someone else here you need to see,” he said finally.

Killian followed obediently behind his brother as they walked through the streets of town until they came to the sheriff’s station.

“Some prisoner here you wish me to see?” Killian asked as Liam opened the door and waved him inside.

“Patience, brother,” Liam said. “The purpose of our visit will soon become apparent.”

Killian looked around the office as they entered. So similar in some ways to its Storybrooke counterpart–yet so different in others. This sheriff’s office sported a myriad of medieval torture devices, and at the far wall stood none other than Rumplestiltskin’s cell itself.

It was only once he’d stepped fully inside, that he noticed the man lounging in the swivel chair behind what back home would be Emma’s desk.

“David?” he asked. “What are you doing here, mate? Shouldn’t you be helping the others?”

The man rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically before getting to his feet. “Not David. James,” he bit out. “If you’re looking for my brother, he should be back any moment once he finishes his latest utterly fruitless task of arriving at a crime scene just too late to save anyone.”

“What?” Killian asked, trying to make some sense–any sense–out of what was happening.

The man–James–smiled nastily. “Quite a clever punishment Hades devised for him, wasn’t it?” he asked. “My hero of a brother, wanting nothing more than to save his subjects and the people he loves, forced to spend an eternity down here never quite able to save anyone.”

“But…but why is Hades punishing him?”

James looked at him as though he had two heads. “Because that’s what the Lord of the Underworld does–punishes those poor, unfortunate souls who show up at his doorstep after their demise.”

Killian’s heart sank. “David’s dead?”

“You new here?” James asked. “Of course he’s dead. Only way people end up here. Now is there something you need, or are you just here to annoy me?”

“We’ll take a seat outside and wait for David’s return,” Liam said, ushering Killian to a very uncomfortable bench in the hallway.

“How? Why?” Killian asked after a moment of silence.

Rather than answer, Liam pointed toward the doorway, a little bell ringing as a very dejected David stepped through the door.

Killian noticed it immediately, the blackened veins traveling from his chest up to cover his face. “Dreamshade,” he whispered.

Liam nodded

David gave them a look as he walked past, but there was no recognition in his face at the sight of them. Too overwhelmed by what he’d just seen to think straight, Killian didn’t even attempt to call out to him.

Just before the office door closed again, Killian heard James greeting his brother. “Ah, David. Back from another unsuccessful rescue mission, I see. There’s a mountain of paperwork for you on your desk. It’s grown by a foot since you left. Should keep you nice and busy until the next crisis you can’t avert.”

“But this is wrong,” Killian said after a moment of silence. “All wrong. David should be alive. Water from the springs of Neverland saved him!”

Liam shook his head. “You weren’t there to save him, Killian,” he said quietly. “Being resourceful, Emma and her family found a way to Neverland and succeeded in saving the lad, but without you to save him, David died of his dreamshade poisoning.”

The pit in Killian’s stomach widened. Wrong, wrong! This was all wrong!

“How did the Lady Snow–not to mention Emma and Henry–handle David’s passing?” Killian asked, not entirely sure he wanted the answer.

“Again, perhaps it’s best if I show you,” Liam said.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Liam led him this time to a building with a big display out front and a sign proclaiming it to be the cinema.

“This is one of those places that projects those moving pictures Emma and Henry are so fond of, isn’t it?” he asked, after Liam purchased two tickets from a bored teenager at the ticket booth.

“Indeed,” Liam said, peering at the tickets and heading toward the theater indicated, “but as with other establishments here in the underworld, the theater serves a bit of a different purpose than it does back on earth. The theater allows Underworld residents to catch a glimpse of those they left behind when they died.”

The lights in the room dimmed, and blazoned across the huge screen in front was the single word “Storybrooke”. A moment later, the screen changed, and Killian found himself looking at the Charmings’ flat. Snow sat at the kitchen table, a full bowl of cereal and an untouched cup of coffee in front of her.

She looked terrible. Dark circles under her eyes proving she hadn’t been sleeping. Her hair hanging dull and lifeless. Her eyes–her eyes were the worst of all. They were dead, hopeless. It was a startling sight, seeing the woman usually so optimistic looking so defeated.

“Gone,” she muttered. “They’re all gone. I’ve lost everything.”

Henry took a seat beside her, his eyes troubled–not only at the sight of his grandmother, but also, it seemed, with his own grief.

“Grams, you have to eat something,” Henry said, his voice wobbling slightly. “I can’t lose you too. I can’t.”

Henry’s distress seemed to snap Snow out of her stupor, at least temporarily. She pasted a false smile on her face. “You’re right, Henry,” she said before forcing herself to take a spoonful of her cereal. “Thanks for making breakfast.”

Henry shrugged, digging into his own bowl. “It’s what family does.”

“Where is the child?” Killian asked. “Little Neal, where is he?”

“There is no baby Neal,” Liam said simply. “Killian, with David perishing on Neverland, the little lad was never conceived. Like you, he does not exist.”

Killian pulled in a quick breath, aching for Emma’s mother. She’d wanted so much to have a second child, had loved her son to distraction. Her loss was palpable–although Killian hardly knew how one could miss someone they’d never had or known.

“You see, Killian,” Liam said as the screen went to black and the house lights came up once again, “everyone’s life creates a ripple, and without that ripple, nothing is ever the same.”

Killian waited for a moment, expecting the scene to change again; there was one last person he was desperate to see.

“Liam, why didn’t the moving picture show us Emma?” he asked, somehow both needing and dreading the answer. “Where is she?”

Liam gave him a long look before blowing out a breath. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes!” Killian said insistently. “Show me Emma. Show me my true love.”

“Very well,” Liam acquiesced, “but I warn you–you’re not going to like what you see.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian resumed his seat in the Underworld theater, steeling himself for the sight Liam assured him he would not like.

“What are you doing?” Liam asked, “didn’t you say you wanted to see Emma?”

“Aye,” Killian said slowly. “I had assumed we would once again need the moving picture machine for that. After all, if I was never born, Swan would have never come to the Underworld after me.”

Liam shook his head gently, his eyes sorrowful. “I think you need to come with me.”

Killian felt his heart drop, a sense of foreboding washing over him as the implication of Liam’s request sunk in. Surely Emma was not down here. Surely.

And yet, as Liam led him deeper and deeper into the underworld, that sense of foreboding only continued to grow. When Liam led motioned for him to enter the cave where Killian knew Hades’ most sadistic torture chamber sat, it all became too much.

“No!” he moaned, taking a step back. “She can’t be there!”

Liam placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know this is difficult, Killian, but you must see this.”

Killian wanted nothing more than to turn tail and run. If Emma was in this chamber, he couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t. “Please, brother. Please tell me this isn’t real. Please tell me she’s not here!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Liam said gently. “Come, we must hurry. For the moment Hades and his minions have let her be, but we mustn’t be caught when they return.”

For another long moment, Killian resisted, but finally, realizing Liam was right, no matter how horrific, he must know the truth, he nodded.

The first thing he noticed upon entry into the cave was the intense, overbearing heat. There was no relief, no respite. Then came the overwhelming stench of sulfur. For a moment, the darkness was so absolute, so oppressive, he couldn’t see anything, but as his eyes became accustomed to the lack of light, he noticed a single, flickering candle along the back wall–the wall where Hades had chained Killian when he was in the midst of his worst tortures.

The sight that met him would have brought him to his knees if Liam’s strong arm hadn’t been there to support him.

“No!” he shouted, the sound echoing off the cave walls.

For it was indeed Emma who was chained to the wall, her face so bruised and cut and swollen as to be almost unrecognizable. Her hair hung limp around her, damp from the sweat born of the oppressive heat and the physical trauma. Hades had stripped her of her signature red leather jacket, and Killian could see cuts and bruises all along her arms. One arm, in fact, hung at an odd angle, giving evidence of a nasty break. Her jeans were tattered and bloodied.

In short, it appeared she’d suffered every torment he had, and perhaps even more. He had to save her. Had to!

Killian rushed toward Emma, gently cradling her head and brushing a strand of hair from her face. He murmured her name and words of comfort and he eyed her restraints, trying to determine how best to loose them.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked in a voice she was obviously trying to make sound defiant. Instead, it merely sounded exhausted. Hades was so very close to breaking her, and Killian wanted to rip out his entrails and strangle him with them.

“It’s Killian,” he said. “I’m going to get you out of here love, just as you did for me. You had to know I love you too much to leave you here to suffer.”

Emma scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Just how stupid do you think I am, Hades?” she asked in a voice dripping with scorn. “You think I’m some naive, damsel-in-distress, starry-eyed teenager who’ll fall for any line a handsome stranger throws my way? Hardly. I grew up real quick on the streets and learned that love is a lie sold by greeting card companies. It’s certainly not in the cards for the Savior. So just stop with–well, with whatever you’re trying to do. Get back to the torture or leave me the hell alone.

“Swan–” Killian started, before he was interrupted by a noise in the corridor.

“Killian, we’ve got to go,” Liam said, grabbing at his arm. “Someone’s coming and we can’t be caught here.”

Killian pulled his arm free and tried to hack at the chains holding Emma. They wouldn’t budge.

“It’s useless, brother,” Liam insisted, grabbing at him again. “The chains of hell cannot be broken. We’ve got to go. Now!”

It went against everything inside of him to leave Emma there, leave her to Hades’ devices, but Liam was right. There was no way to free her. Finally he nodded, following his brother out of the cave and through the streets of town until they reached what was once Underbrooke’s version of Emma’s house. It was different now, fallen into complete disrepair–windows broken, wood rotted, cobwebs hanging from every surface.

This house was the physical manifestation of everything he was feeling now. Everything, everything was crumbling in around him.

“Why?” Killian moaned in anguish, falling to his knees. “Why is she here? She shouldn’t be here! I should!”

“You don’t exist,” Liam reminded him, getting to his knees and placing a comforting arm on his shoulders. “She couldn’t make you a co-Dark One. You weren’t there to take all the darkness on yourself and sacrifice yourself to end it. Emma had to do that herself.”

“No!” Killian moaned again.

“And I think you know why Hades is making her torture so much worse than anyone else’s if you truly think about it,” Liam continued.

“She’s the savior,” Killian said, his voice breaking. “She defeated Hades in a way no one else ever could.”

Liam nodded. “She did,” he agreed, “and she did so because she is good and valiant, but she is also broken. Without you, she never again found love. She was never able to allow her heart to heal and her walls to come down. She was a light to all around her, but she was never blessed with that light for herself.”

And suddenly it all began to make sense. In his long life, Killian had done many terrible things, but he’d also had a positive impact on others. His life had mattered, and its absence left a tremendous hole.

“We are none of us fully good nor fully evil,” Liam continued, as though reading Killian’s thoughts, “but every one of us is important and necessary to so many people. Our impact is something we may never know, but it is vital, and when one of us is missing from the fabric of time–the resulting tear leaves the garment irreparably harmed.”

The tears began to flow, and Killian let them, making no attempt to stop them or wipe them away. He wanted to fix this. He needed to fix this.

“Please brother,” he said through his tears, “help me. I want to live again!”

Liam smiled. “Done!”

~*~*~*~*~*~

There was no flash of lighting, no crack of thunder this time. Nothing earth shattering happened. One moment they were in the broken-down shell of the Underbrooke version of Emma’s house, and the next they were back in the cave where this whole thing had started. Even so, Killian knew it had worked; he could feel it. All was back to the way it should have been–well, as close as anything could come in this terrible place. His life was restored to the fabric of time. Joy bubbled up.

As Killian’s eyes adjusted to the dim light of the cavern, he noticed the dinghy docked to the cliff, the peaceful waters in which it bobbed, the pleasant port in the distance that was to be Liam’s eternal reward, and a touch of bittersweetness mixed in with his joy. No doubt the time of parting with his brother was almost upon him.

“Not quite yet, brother,” Liam said, once again reading his thoughts. “This vessel will be waiting for me in due course, but it’s Christmas Eve. I can see nothing wrong with celebrating this one last holiday with my brother and the family he’s amassed for himself.”

Killian’s smile widened. “You’d put off paradise for me?”

“Of course,” Liam said. “Haven’t you learned by now I’d do anything for you? You, little brother, are worth it.”

Killian wrapped his arms around his brother, feeling the tears rush to his eyes once again. He’d always known his brother’s first statement was true, but now, maybe for the first time in his life, he was beginning to believe the truth of the second as well.

After a long moment, Killian stepped back, clearing his throat. “Younger brother,” he corrected gruffly.

Liam laughed. “And, if I don’t miss my mark, there’s someone else out there who would also do anything for you; who also believes you’re worth it. Perhaps it’s time you go to her.”

Emma’s beloved face came to mind, and a rush of love and longing filled him. He’d left her on a rather bad note, his self-loathing pushing her away. He wanted–needed–to make things right, to let her know how very much he appreciated her coming here to save him.

“Will you not come with me, Liam?” he asked.

Liam chuckled. “I rather think your reunion is something I don’t need to be privy to. I’ll return to the loft, spend some time with your Emma’s son. Perhaps we can plan and start preparations for our Noel celebrations. You and your love can meet me there.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian rushed back to Swan’s Underbrooke house, his heart leaping to see it whole and reasonably intact, as opposed to the broken down hull he’d seen last. It was further proof that all was back as it should be.

He found Emma standing in the drawing room looking confused and slightly out of sorts.

“Hook!” she said, as he rushed toward her. “Where the hell have you been? First you and Liam left, and then Henry ran off…somewhere.”

There was so much he wanted to do, so much he wanted to tell her, but he started by simply giving her a long hug, which she returned warmly.

When he pulled back enough to see her face, it was obvious his gesture, while not unwelcome, had certainly done nothing to banish her confusion.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he said finally. “You were right about Liam. He destroyed those pages because of a deal he made with Hades years ago, a deal that almost got us thrown into that boiling sea.”

Her eyes widened and her grip tightened on his arms. “Are you okay? Where is he?”

“He, uh, sacrificed himself,” he said, struggling to find the words to tell her what had happened to him–to both of them–over the last few hours. “But his sacrifice helped a crew we once sailed with. They finally moved on thanks to him.”

Her alarm grew. “Did he move on too?”

Killian shook his head. “Not yet. A boat is waiting to usher him on when he is ready, but he wishes to spend Christmas with us first–it is, after all, Christmas Eve.”

He didn’t miss the slight look of unease in her eyes, which she quickly masked. “That’s–that’s good,” she said, a bit too cheerfully.

“He was wrong about you, Swan,” Killian said, “and he knows it. I think one reason he wished to remain was to have an opportunity to apologize to you and make amends.”

Her smile became far more genuine. “There’s no need, Killian. He was just trying to protect you. I get that.”

“Nevertheless,” Killian said, “I need no protection from you, and now he knows that.”

They were silent for a moment, merely enjoying the quiet and peace of each other’s company. Finally Emma looked around. “So if he didn’t move on, where is he? Didn’t he come back here with you?”

Killian grinned. “He returned to your parents’ flat, hoping to conspire with the lad to make our Christmas one to remember–at least as far as is possible in this hellish place.”

They shared a smile, but then Killian grew serious, looking at her with intensity. This was important; he needed her to hear him. “But he helped me to see the truth before he went. I’m glad you came down here, Emma. Perhaps I do deserve saving after all.”

She lit up, her face showing a joy he hadn’t seen since he’d gotten down here. “Does that mean when this is all over, you’re planning to come home?”

When this is all over. It was a stark reminder that there were still substantial obstacles they must face before they could return to their white picket fence life, but face them they would. He was sure of it. Not only would they face them, they would win, and their happiness afterwards would be all the sweeter from the struggle they had to endure to get there.

“Yes,” he answered definitively. “Everything Liam did was to ensure that I had a future, and I damn well intend to have one.”

With that, he swooped in for a long passionate kiss, the likes of which he’d dreamed about ever since this ordeal began.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Storybrooke, Present Day

Killian toyed with the ends of Emma’s hair as her head lay on his shoulder.

“And then we returned to your parents’ flat–or what passed for it in that bloody place–to find Henry and Liam had made a valiant attempt at decorating for the festive occasion.”

Emma chuckled. “I remember. The only tree they could find made Charlie Brown’s look amazing.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Killian said with his own chuckle, “but I catch the gist. It was quite pitiful. Its sad state only rivaled by the wilted poinsettias and the crumbling mistletoe.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Emma said, “I think the mistletoe still worked perfectly well, if the exaggerated eyerolls from Henry when we made use of it were any indication.”

He chuckled again. “And all your mother could find to prepare for our Christmas feast was grilled cheese on stale bread and PopTarts for dessert.”

“I’ll admit it wasn’t the greatest grilled cheese I’ve ever had, and unfrosted brown sugar cinnamon PopTarts are just wrong,” Emma said, “but I’ve gotta say, I kind of like the menu.”

Killian shot her a disgusted look with a muttered “bloody hell”. She collapsed against him as she laughed.

“However,” Killian said after a moment, returning to the subject at hand. “It was a pleasant evening filled with joy and laughter. The two people I love the most in this or any world together and reconciled, your family–our family–together to support us. It was the very essence of what makes Christmas magical.”

Emma sat up to look at him and there was sadness in her eyes. “But the next evening we had to say goodbye to Liam for good.”

Killian sighed. “It was a bittersweet moment to be sure,” he agreed, “but I got a proper farewell this time, something I was denied when he died in my arms all those centuries ago, and I know he’s in a better place–I saw it for myself. One day we’ll be together again.”

She gave him a stern look. “That day better be decades and decades away.”

He grinned before leaning down to kiss her. “Fear not, Swan. Have I not proven that I’m a survivor? Even death couldn’t hold me forever. At any rate, though we were in an awful place and the decorations and provisions were less than ideal, that was a Christmas that I will always hold in my heart, because I got a second chance, and it’s been sweeter than anything I could imagine.”

They were silent for a moment, and then he heard a small sniff beside him. He leaned over to see tears in Swan’s eyes. “Love, whatever is the matter?”

“I had no idea, Killian,” she said after a moment, “no idea you went through all that. You never told me about the visions Liam showed you.”

He shrugged. “There never seemed to be time; we were always moving from one crisis to the next, and I didn’t want to upset you with my own internal crises.”

She sat up again, looking into his eyes. “Killian, we’re true love, husband and wife,” she said, “We should help each other through our crises. Don’t ever feel like you have to keep anything from me because I might find it upsetting.”

He smiled tenderly at her, cupping her cheek and letting his thumb caress her face. “Nor you with me, my love.”She nodded. “And for the record, Killian, you have nothing left to prove. You are a good man, and all of us are better off for having you in our lives. Don’t ever doubt that.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#christmas reruns 2023 #cs fanfiction #captain swan christmas ff #my fanfiction #its a hell of a christmas

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lollytea · 16 days

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thoughts on the main bridgerton couples we’ve seen so far?

Ooooooh you've given me an opportunity to yap. Thank you kindly!!

Oh when I started season 1, I was sooooo excited for Daphne and Simon's fake dating plot. I wasn't expecting anything deeply profound. Just gimmicky trashy fun. And I really did enjoy them!! I liked watching them interact with each other. They were very sweet and charming.

Except uuuuggghhh!!! Their sexual dynamic made me so uncomfortable. Like I had so much fun watching the numerous scenes where they fucked like happy happy little rabbits and wished that was as far as the show took it. BUT the power imbalance was awful.

I understand historical accuracy of regency era women being less sexually educated the men and are sometimes completely clueless but GODDDD that doesnt mean I have to enjoy watching it. Bridgerton is supposed to be some stupid swoony sexy romance. But personally I don't find the virgin and slut trope to be all that sexy or swoony or romantic at all.

I don't like Daphne having to be taught how to masturbate by her love interest like she's a child

I don't like how her naivete is exploited by her husband

And I do NOT like how Daphne sexually assaults her husband out of SPITE. Its absolutely depraved. Its disgusting. Sick to my stomach.

Devastated by how fun Daphne and Simon initially were and then it all veered into creepy squirmy terrible territory. I wanted to enjoy them so bad.

The next is Kate and Anthony and. Hm.

I think Kate has the most compelling character set up out of everyone in the cast. I like that she's so much older than the typical female protag in these kinds of stories. She's still very young (26) but according to the era she lives in, she's ANCIENT for a woman. I quite like stories like that. About older women who think they've lost their chance of finding love years ago but receive a happy surprise. She's brainy and loud and stubborn and opinionated and gets on people's nerves but she's also so pleasant and funny and so full of love for her family and she's fucking GORGEOUS.

I don't have any strong opinions about Anthony except he's a bit of a cunt but the actor plays him so melodramatically that I do find him entertaining.

I was excited for the enemies to lovers thing. They both have such strong flammable personalities. I wanted mess. I wanted fire. I wanted her to tear his throat out.

But the romance itself was kinda....underwhelming. I dunno, I felt like they didn't have enough interactions to really loathe each other to the extent that they did. And then, again, they didn't have enough interaction for that loathing to morph into love. Like the fact that it states that they're "in love" when they've only had a few scenes together feels very unsatisfying. It didn't seem earned. At least with Simon and Daphne, they were hanging out with each other every day for weeks. Kate and Anthony were only having sporadic meetings every once and again.

ALSO the two of them crumbled into hopeless love way too fast for my liking. It felt like a jumble of fanfic scenes but with none of the substance of the Canon material to make the fanfic meaningful. I dunno man, Kate has been completely unreceptive to romance for her whole life and Anthony is stubborn and arrogant and completely against the idea of love. The evolution of their relationship seemed quite rushed. I think the burn should have been much slower, yknow? Taking down each others barriers one brick at a time.

ALSO. They should have just as many unapologetic sex scenes as Simon and Daphne. It anything, they should have had more. At least Anthony and Kate felt like they were on equal ground. I would much rather see a 26 year old woman getting railed than a 19 year old girl.

Are there any other main bridgerton couples? Hm...there's Eloise and that guy I've forgotten the name of. Hate it. Hate it a lot. I find Eloise to be quite an insufferable character and I do not even remember the guy's face. I'm mad that Eloise has a love interest in the first place. I'm mad that a love interest had to be tied in to a subplot about Eloise becoming involved in women's rights in order to make it interesting. I'm mad I'm mad I'm mad.

Uhhhh Colin and Penelope. Hm.

They're both going to be very sexy in the new season. I know they will be sexy. They are both sexy.

I love to see a fat girl get a kind decent man who's obsessed with her.

But MAN. Man....I so badly wish they didn't have Penelope wrong Marina in season 1. It was so vile. So cruel. So despicable. At least in my opinion. Penelops and Colin's relationship is probably never gonna sit right with me after that. There is NO WAY a decent man is going to forgive a woman for doing that to his previous girlfriend?? Right??

Well we know that he WILL forgive her. And he will fall in love with her. So Colin kinda sucks too.

Anyway those are my thoughts. I love bridgerton because I love mess and drama but there is nothing good going on here

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freetheshit-outofyou · 1 year

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youtube

I have seen a lot of urban decay over the years and my travels, I have seen cities that had a chance to turn itself around fall into unrecoverable ruin, I watched that with Seattle in a very short time.

None of those cities have hurt me more than the fall of Seattle. My first trip to Seattle was in 2006, to meet my Bride's dad not long before he passed. I was taken aback at how nice and mostly clean such a big city was, I had never experienced that before. The people were kind everywhere you went, and the city felt inviting. Since 2006 we have been there dozens of times and up until 2018 the city still felt fun and inviting. It was the last time we were able to go to City Center, but the writing was on the walls, or more correctly, in the park(s). The parks were now filling up with tents and people openly shooting their favorite flavor of intoxicants in their lawn chairs in eye shot of the police foot patrols, the city had fully given control of the streets to crime, just so long as that crime was not too bad.

2019 (Pre-CoVID) we went back and the entire city is different, the encampments of homeless were massive, under every bridge and filling almost every park. sidewalks were just littered with needles (Seattle street glitter.) and those using them. Pikes Place market had people passed out in the stairways leading into it, and the people had changed. The people who at that point been so open and inviting were not closed off, guarded and suspicious of everyone.

After CoVID, Seattle was just any other old growth urban area full of crime left unchecked by the city and state governments. The more we, more specifically my Bride, had to go there the more it became clear Seattle was lost. The City cut the police force funding by 50% (409 Million), tried to close the King County Jail, made most things that were illegal unenforceable, passed things that specifically protected protesters and lost control of an entire city block for 26 days including a police sub-station.

This is what happens when We The People allow lawlessness to become the rule. There is a tipping point coming where good people will have to do less than pleasant things to hit the reset button on governments and their ability to run their locations in the best interests of ALL law-abiding citizens, rather than letting criminals and criminal activities rule the streets.

#seattle #me #lost city #Youtube

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gloamingdawn · 11 months

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May 26 - Day 6 Gleaming / Hurt

Lyn had bypassed the press line in favor of a more direct path to the door made by flanking around the back of all the photographers — none of whom bothered to look behind them, after all, the people they were here for were more than glad to pose and chat in the view of all their lenses

She’d grown up dirt poor, but had danced in the splendor that was the Royal Ballet centuries ago, back when she had been a much younger girl. The hubbub reminded her of a show the King and Queen had formally decided to attend, meaning the rest of the Court had to as well to keep up appearances. The opulence then certainly hadn’t matched this — and this time she didn’t have to powder over her freckles.

It was funny how out of place she felt, even if she knew she looked fucking amazing. Her ivory silk dress was extremely simple, but clung to her like a second skin. The color of it highlighted the honey tones in her tanned skin, made all those freckles pop, and really accented the brightfire blaze that was her untethered tumble of copper orange hair. The off-the-shoulder and low back cut showed off the umber brown Skold Ashil designary tattoos that capped both of her shoulders, as well as the runes scarred in a line down her spine by one of the seers that spelled out blezan til megin.

That blessing of power would carry her through — even if, maybe, only the vrykul word for blessing would only be visible to most people. A demi-cape of golden feathers started at the level of her shoulder blades, with some of the longer feathers ending just at the top of her hips. A scattered few of them glimmered softly with an ethereal witchlight. Most of them were her own, but a few had come as gifts from distant Sisters.

She would always be more comfortable on the battlefield, in a surgery suite, or her quiet cabin with her young son than here, surrounded by socialites. But it was nice to experience something different and shake off the rust.

The art was all beautifully done, Vixannya was a master of her craft, and it had become a pleasant personal game to spot the muses and speak to them a little about the process. Something, certainly, to pass the time. Plus it had been a delight to run into another feathered friend, Sana, drifting around the show.

It wasn’t surprising to learn that the legendary afterparty was, in fact, just that. She felt the most at home in the Earth space, unsurprisingly, but she’d made a point to check out the others as well. Serazhen, a former patient and Tart colleague, pressed an old fashioned into her hand while she watched Ryland and his performing companions drift about in the shifting skybox. He truly seemed in his element, and she couldn’t help but smile as he pulled off a couple particularly difficult movements with expert ease.

Fire was where her breath truly caught, though.

Of course that was where Dicenne was; it only made sense. Their complications had been years ago now, and things were certainly better now between them than they had been in a long time — mostly thanks to Ash being a very charming and well behaved toddler who had only had one meltdown at a small family cookout in Ratchet.

But it still felt wrong to look for more than a few moments, even if that was technically a big part of why he was here, on stage, indulging.

So she drifted back to Earth and meandered in the familiar comforts of food, drink and dance.

@daily-writing-challenge / @vixannya / @rylandfalkov / @dicenne

#maydwc2023 #mayday62023 #gloamingdawn

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mountphoenixrp · 2 months

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We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Xiao Lian, a 25 year old son of Airmid. He is a farmhand at Happy Garden.

FC NAME/GROUP: Song Jiyang CHARACTER NAME: Xiao Lian AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: January 26, 1999 PLACE OF BIRTH: Wuyishan, Fujian, China OCCUPATION: Farmhand at Happy Garden HEIGHT: 6'0"/183 cm WEIGHT: 135 pounds/61.2 kg DEFINING FEATURES: Not a single scar or blemish to his skin, but his eyes betray a deeper pain. Peridot eyes with a subtle but beautiful golden shimmer like embers. Nearly always barefoot. Neck-length dark chocolate hair. Tall and very thin, nearly emaciated. Oversized clothes/hand-me-downs often stained with dirt and grass.

PERSONALITY: Lian is very much a simple country bumpkin. One is more apt to find him outdoors and enjoying his freedom in the fresh air after being confined indoors for so long. Despite his unfortunate past, Lian is a friendly fellow. Just because he has a bit of a language barrier, only speaking Mandarin and some basic English, does not mean he shies away from communicating entirely; in fact, he is even learning Korean! Wearing shoes is uncomfortable and he is extremely averse to wearing formal clothing; he is more apt to be found barefoot in hand-me-down shirts and jeans, though tends to keep his hands covered by his sleeves. As his healing touch is a passive ability, physical contact is a generally pleasant experience for others, comforting and at times intoxicating. While he may not have physical scars, the emotional and mental scars of his life with Lu Xi are permanent. Outwardly, he seems unfazed by many violent acts when in reality he was conditioned not to react; inwardly, he is screaming–screaming in fear, screaming in pain, screaming in desperation. He would rather endure agonizing torture than allow someone else get hurt, willingly sacrificing himself for the sake of others; his reasoning is that he can heal himself, so there is ‘no real harm’. However, just because he can heal does not mean he does not feel the initial pain or illness. That memory stays with him even if the sensation does not.

Lian is reserved when interacting with people, but his kindness shines through along with a natural willingness to help. Because his formal education ended at age 11, he remains very naïve about many things in the world and is, unfortunately, very much gullible and trusts people far too easily. He has a “heavenly” tenor singing voice, though is very hesitant to sing around people, preferring to sing to the plants who appear to enjoy it tremendously. Though his education is limited, he has no real intention of continuing school but rather looks forward to learning more about the medicinal properties of plants on his own.

HISTORY: Content warning: Parent death, murder, kidnapping, child abuse, exploitation of a minor

Love once existed between a goddess and a clever herbalist in Wuyishan named Xiao Bai. That love culminated into the birth of a son, left with the father who vowed to raise him well while the mother returned to her divine duties. For the first few years, pair lived a happy and rural life. Lian scarcely has any memories of his father, the man disappearing mysteriously when the boy was only three years old. Due to their remote life on the mountain, no one realized the herbalist was missing for nearly a week. His son was found alone, hiding in the pantry, taken in by authorities and subsequently handed off to his uncle who worked as a landscaper at a nearby resort. Knowing his nephew’s divine heritage, Uncle Sun assumed custody and kept the boy’s true nature a secret. Lian lived with his uncle on the property, attended daycare while the man worked, sometimes helping where he could. A couple years later, a group of hiking tourists discovered a badly decomposed body on the mountain and after thorough investigation, was discovered to be the missing Xiao Bai. Judging by the gaping hole in the back of his skull, foul play was immediately suspected. Lian himself had been too young to remember what happened to his father and could only recall the man telling him to stay quiet and hidden in the pantry. Thus, the murder went unsolved. Both brother and son grieved the loss of Xiao Bai, but life continued. Lian and his uncle continued to live at the resort with the boy attending school and helping Sun with gardening; tragedy aside, they were very happy.

When Sun accidentally cut his hand with pruning shears, Lian’s powers were discovered at the age of 11 when, as he was inspecting his uncles fingers, the landscaper’s wounds quickly healed before their eyes. From that moment on, Lian's eyes had a subtle glow to them, a golden iridescence within the irises that brightened when he actively used his abilities. He healed his uncle again a few weeks later when the man developed a cough and cold, cured with only tight hug and a “feel better” from his nephew. Sun insisted the child be very careful who he show his powers to, that they must be kept a secret. He did his best for a bit, but when a guest was kind to him–a guest at the resort–fell off her balcony one night, resulting in many broken bones including her skull, he could not remain idle. Traumatized and without thinking, Lian rushed to the girl and healed her, after which he fainted. Her recovery, however, earned him the title of “miracle boy” and Sun was extremely weary of the newfound attention. Rumors spread; employees and guests alike came to the boy to be healed of their ailments, eventually spreading to the locals and beyond. Sun did not approve of this attention–especially knowing his nephew had a bleeding heart and would not let someone suffer–so he packed up their belongings and moved them to Lushan City in Jiangxi, the next province over. There, Sun was hired as a gardener for a wealthy family, he and Lian taking residence in the guest house. One day, while playing with the family’s son Fu, Fu fell and broke his leg; Lian healed him, but begged that Fu keep it a secret.

Fu did not keep it a secret and told his father Lu Xi. The man then broke Fu’s arm and demanded Lian heal him, which Lian did without hesitation despite his uncle’s protests. Lu Xi contacted the former resort and listened to the stories of this boy who could bring back someone from the brink of death. Lu Xi strangled his wife and demanded Lian bring her back, which he did, resulting in the boy being comatose for a week. When Lian awoke, he was confined to a guest room, the door locking from the outside. His uncle was nowhere to be found…nor were Fu and his mother. All that remained was Lu Xi who demanded the child use his powers like a parlor trick to his guests. Eventually, they would pay Lu Xi with money or favors to have this boy heal ailments of themselves or their loved ones; some clients obtained that “healing touch” by nefarious and lewd methods, ultimately behind a shell of the vibrant boy that once was. Rarely was he allowed time outdoors, but when he was, it was only at night and he spent the majority of it just lying on the ground in the garden which only angered Lu Xi that the boy returned with grass in his hair and stains on his clothes. He spent the majority of the next thirteen years in that guest room…

…until one client told the “wrong person” about this secret miracle boy, a woman who had a knack for rescuing demigods from horrible situations; and that was just what she did, stealing Lian away in the night and bringing him to Mount Phoenix where he would be safe. In this new environment, the “quiet lotus” began to sprout and bud again; it may take some time for him to fully bloom, but he makes gradual progress tending to the land at Happy Garden where he feels most at home.

PANTHEON: Celtic CHILD OF: Airmid

POWERS:

Healing Touch–Naturally able to heal wounds, ailments, and diseases with physical contact, rejuvenating and regenerating cells with a touch; the more serious or grave the injury/illness, the more exhausting it is for him to heal.

Death’s Pause–The ability to resurrect someone who has very recently passed; this is only possible within the first few minutes of a person’s heart stopping and is extremely taxing, resulting in Lian being comatose for no less than a week.

STRENGTHS: Compassionate, resourceful, patient, gentle, resilient WEAKNESSES: Self-conscious, reserved, masochistic, gullible, submissive

#cpop rp #crp #song jiyang #mp; welcome

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foretnoires · 11 months

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akiramon drabble | beginning [TG week: Gift Day]

warning: mature themes, no nsfw but implied, proceed at your own risks!

note: this is my first time joining TG week and I’m a bit clueless of the themes and what I’m doing also, and I didn’t even join each day because of editor’s/writer’s block 😩 here’s my gift for @imgabysama, thank you for your support for every aus and edits of mine even though they’re chaotic af and you’re the first person in TG fandom I’ve got to know 😭 English is not my first language, I’m trying my best, so enjoy 🤗 btw the moodboard is a bonus, so the post won’t look plain 🗿

❝ One-night stand? Actually its consequences are not too bad - at least according to Akira. ❞

Who just pulled up the curtains?

Akira exasperatedly let out a few mumbles, her small face frowned by the annoying light, she was clearly annoyed. In her life, she hated being woken up early in the morning - especially when she was still in her very beautiful dreams. Light streamed into the spacious room from the window, constantly teasing her, making it impossible for her to sleep again.

Akira rolled over on the bed, trying to banish the bright, annoying light. Her slender hands covered her face, Akira huddled aimlessly at something - a blanket, she guessed vaguely, something warm, extremely soft, lying right next to her.

The smell was also pleasant. And her blanket never had any perfume on it...?

Forcing her eyelids to open a little so she could see, through the gaps between her fingers that were still clutching her face, in front of her eyes was a huge mass - oh no, a man's body, rather, or to be more precise, Akira was facing a robust chest more than ever, and she couldn't stop staring at the man's collarbone—

Akira blinked, but the rather seductive 'thing’ didn't budge in the slightest, it started to make her have butterflies in her stomach. He was naked, and apparently she was too. They laid close to each other on the same bed of white sheets, covered under a blanket, and the sheets were strangely messy.

Something must have happened last night that Akira couldn't remember.

Her head hurt like hell now. Overdrinking was always like this.

But actually she was a little relieved, because she hadn't slept with a man in his forties or - worse still - a minor. Instead, this man is very handsome, even though he was sleeping soundly, he still exuded a charming and mature aura, maybe adding a little peace that makes her heart can't help but fluttering.

Akira's eyes for men were still very good, even when her mind was still in a drunken state.

The outlines on his face were quite sharp. High nose bridge, long canthus and delicate facial features. This guy looked like 26-27 years old at most - a few years older than her. His skin was as bright as the sunlights - he looked healthy and muscular at the same time, highlighting the thin pink lips on his face.

The thought of having kissed those lips no less than a dozen times last night made Akira blush. A passionate night with a handsome guy, she didn’t regret it much.

Lost in her thoughts, Akira suddenly remembered what the hell she would say if he woke up now. He would definitely be surprised, the atmosphere would definitely turn awkward, definitely--

The best way now was to sneak out before he woke up...

Talk the talk and walk the walk. Akira struggled to lift his strong arm around her waist away from her, the sudden cold involuntarily made her shiver, her mind started to conflict between curling up in bed and pretending to sleep again, or just letting it be and leaving.

She bit her lower lip, choosing the second option in the end.

It took ten minutes before Akira was able to set her feet on the floor of the hotel room. She tried to make as little noise as possible, take as little steps as possible so he wouldn't hear. But here's the problem: Akira only found her panties under the legs of the bed, and her bra was nowhere to be found.

She swore under her breath, wrapped some sort of cloak over her body, and began to bend down to find the other thing. But strangely, she couldn't find that one very-necessary thing, and Akira couldn't go out without it.

While tearing her hair out in frustration, Akira heard a hoarse voice suddenly coming from the bed, towards her.

“Are you looking for this?”

Akira felt as if she had just died then come back to life.

Lifting her head, her eyes were met with the image of the guy who was supposed to be sleeping, he was sitting stagnantly on the bed, in his hand was her dark purple bra. His face - however, didn't seem as serious as Akira's expression right now, he just kept looking at her with that nonchalant look, his hand was even twirling the bra.

Fuck.

Embarrassed and annoyed, Akira could only run to the bed and rudely snatch the thing from his hand, not daring to meet the other's eyes from beginning to end. He kept staring at her all the time, not like he wanted to eat her, but a look that made Akira feel like an alien.

She cleared her throat unnaturally, but he continued to stare. His gaze was serious, as if he wanted to strip her thin robe, and it was as if she had just committed some very serious crime. Akira didn't know what to do anymore, her limbs suddenly became superfluous.

Suddenly blushed, she discreetly pulled the cloak tightly wrapped around her, trying to avoid that gaze carrying the fire within.

He made her both scared and embarrassed to the point of wanting to dig a hole and hide into it.

".....Stop it."

"...Stop what...?"

"All of them-- The staring."

Akira was surprised to see him smile. Taking her eyes off the ivory-white hotel bed sheet, she met the deep gaze of the other man, her heart seemed to drift to an unknown place.

He had very beautiful eyes. Very very beautiful.

"Sorry." He said. The crescent-shaped smile remained on his lips, and grew even wider when he saw her surprised eyes. "Because I've never seen anyone so beautiful, so..."

"I-I'm beautiful?"

The man with the black hair tilted his head to the side, his gaze looking at her for some reason became much softer.

"I'm not exaggerating, you're the most beautiful person I've ever met."

Before Akira knew it, she involuntarily smiled along with him. Look! He looked so much more approachable when he smiled....

She watched him lifting off her right hand, placing a polite kiss on it, and watched his eyes sparkle as he gave another smile. For her.

From that moment on, Akira knew what this moment would bring in her hurried, boring life. It was reflected in his smiling eyes, the eyes she volunteered to bury her heart in.

"Shall we get to know each other first? Hello, I'm Koutarou Amon, 26 years old. Nice to meet you."

"My name is Akira Mado, 22 years old."

The beginning.

#tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul re #tokyo ghoul root a #tokyo ghoul headcanon #tgweek23 #koutarou amon #akira mado #akiramon #tokyo ghoul au #sui ishida #tokyo ghoul fanfiction

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morbidology · 2 years

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It was Christmas Eve of 2015, and 23-year-old Katie Locke was getting ready to meet 26-year-old Carl Langdell for the very first time in person. They had began chatting on the dating website Plenty of Fish where he falsely told the young woman that he was a reputable lawyer. In fact, just months prior he had threatened to kill a mental health nurse before telling another that he had fantasies of cutting a woman’s throat. It would be their very first and very last date.

When Locke got to the Theobalds Park Hotel in Hertfordshire, they spent the evening having a drink with one another. What started as a pleasant date soon turned into a nightmare. What happened next is not known for sure, but at some point in the night, Langdell brutally attacked and then strangled Locke to death before taking photos of himself sexually assaulting her corpse. Following her murder, he wrapped her body in a duvet and dumped it in a nearby skip.

The following day, he confessed to what he had done and told his psychiatrist that he was a “monster.” He was sentenced to life imprisonment.

#true crime

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 5 months

Text

Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 4: A Pirate's Christmas Carol (1/2)

Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 4: A Pirate’s Christmas Carol (1/2)

Rating: G

Word Count: 2517

Other chapters: 1 2 3 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Note: This fic was written in 2016. At the time, it was a “future fic”, but now it’s more of an “alternate” canon fic. A Pirate’s Christmas Carol (pt. 1 of 2)

Killian admired the Christmas tree from his perch on the couch. The colorful lights shown to full effect in the last hours of the night when all was still and dark and silent. Tomorrow was the feast of Christmas, and Swan and the lad were so excited they could barely contain themselves.

Killian had to admit he was curious about this Christmas holiday. What an odd tradition to bring a tree into one’s living room and decorate it with lights and colorful baubles of all kinds!

The Swan-Jones family had spent a pleasant Christmas Eve with the Charmings. He and Swan were both strangers to the love and joy of family, and so the traditions of the season were both foreign and delightful to them. It warmed Killian’s heart to see the incandescent joy on his wife’s faces as she watched her parents open the gift she’d selected for them.

It was all he’d wanted for such a very, very long time—to be with the one he loved, to belong to a family.

At least it was all he’d thought he’d wanted…until the day some seven months past when Swan informed him that he was to be a father a month into the new year.

To say he’d been elated at the news was quite the understatement. The thought of having a child of his own was a dream he’d long since despaired of realizing. He loved Henry as his own son, of course, but there was something fitting and beautiful about creating a new life through the True Love he shared with Swan.

Killian reached for his flask, lying on the end table. He took a long sip and waited for the burning liquid to calm his frazzled nerves. Swan slept peacefully in their bed, their unborn son nestled warm and peaceful inside of her, but Killian found sleep eluding him on this Christmas Eve night.

He was happy about the approach of his little one’s birth; of course he was, but he was also bloody terrified. What did he know about being a father? His own father had been a piss poor example of what a parent should be. Killian knew his faults; knew he had a tendency to let emotions rule logic, a tendency toward impulsiveness. Would he prove to be as much of a disappointment to his son as his father was to him?

The thought made his stomach turn. Raising a child with Swan—this was one adventure he could not stand to muck up.

Killian had no idea how long he sat there worrying about his inadequacies as a father, but eventually the twinkling lights on the tree and crackling of the fire in the hearth lulled him into an uneasy sleep.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

“Wake up, Little Brother!” someone said as a gentle hand shook Killian’s shoulder.

“Leave off, Liam!” Killian said sleepily…before the shock of what he’d just said—what he’d just heard—penetrated his sleep-fogged brain and woke him completely.

“Must have been dreaming,” Killian muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes with his good hand. Likely the day spent with family brought his own lost brother to mind.

A deep chuckle interrupted his musings. “It’s not a dream, Killian,” came the very definite voice of Liam Jones. “I’m quite real.

Killian turned, staring open-mouthed as his beloved brother, the man he’d personally seen move on to his eternal reward, took a seat on the opposite end of the couch in his and Swan’s living room.

“H…how are you here, brother?” Killian croaked, too shocked even to feel the intense joy he knew would hit soon.

“Technically speaking, I’m not,” Liam said cryptically. “I’m nothing but a shade, a ghost if you will. Your distress has not gone unnoticed. I’ve been sent to help you, to be your guide of sorts.”

“My guide?” Killian asked, brow furrowed. “I’m afraid I don’t follow, Liam. My guide to what?”

“Your past,” Liam said, getting to his feet and extending a hand. “You could call me your ghost of Christmas past. Come. I’ve much to show you this night.”

“But, Emma…” Killian said as he got to his feet as well. “She’ll worry if she wakes to find me gone, and in her condition—you’re to be an uncle, Liam!—I hesitate to cause her any more distress than is absolutely necessary.”

“Fear not about that, little brother,” Liam said with a gentle smile. “Your wife and babe will be quite well while we’re gone. I can promise you they won’t even know you’re gone. Take my hand. Do you trust me?”

“Always,” Killian said, finally taking the proffered hand.

Killian suddenly felt weightless, as though he’d taken flight. He looked down and saw the world below him spin away, as though he were moving faster than the airplane Swan had convinced him to board on their honeymoon. Were he being guided by anyone but Liam, he’d likely have called out in fright, but he’d spoken truthfully. He knew he could trust his beloved brother to have his safety and best interest at heart.

Killian had scarcely the time to wonder where they were headed before he and Liam landed gently right in the middle of a jungle. Killian’s heart dropped to his stomach. He would never in his life be able to forget this place.

Neverland.

He turned betrayed eyes to his brother, but before he got the chance to reproach Liam, a full regiment of Lost Ones whooped and hollered as they tore through the forest…stopping just outside Baelfire’s cave.

“Pan’s waiting for you,” the leader, Felix, called into the opening of the cave. “He’s ready to play. Are you ready to play Baelfire? It’s not wise to keep Pan waiting.”

Killian stepped forward, hand fisted, hook raised, but before he could confront the psychotic bullies, Liam stopped him with a hand to his sleeve. “They can’t see or hear us, brother. We merely watch events already transpired.”

The thought was surreal…but not nearly as surreal as watching himself, fully attired as a pirate, complete with vicious scowl and finely sharpened hook bound onto the scene and step between Baelfire’s cave and the Lost Ones.

“Not today, mates,” the Hook from the past growled, raising his signature weapon threateningly. “You’ll have to do without Bae for your sport.”

“Think carefully, captain,” Felix snarled. “It’s unwise to cross Pan.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Hook said. “Now return to your demon master, lest you feel the bite of my hook.”

Felix looked as though he wanted to argue further, but then his eyes fell onto the sharpened hook. Evidently deciding he didn’t wish to go up against the infamous Captain Hook, the Lost One turned away, motioning his followers to do the same. “You’re going to regret this Captain. Pan will not be pleased.”

Hook watched until the Lost Ones were out of sight, and then gave a sharp rap to the stone surface that functioned as Baelfire’s front door. A moment later teenage Bae came into view, looking as though he didn’t know whether to thank Hook—or to go off on him.

“Thanks,” Bae said finally. “Thanks for making them leave.”

Hook waved off the thanks, reaching up to scratch at the spot behind his ear. “It was no trouble, lad,” Hook said. “Things may have gone…badly…at our last meeting, but I wish you no harm. I wish to ensure your safety while we are trapped on this accursed island. It’s what your mother would have wanted.”

Bae shot him an inscrutable look. “How can I trust you? Just yesterday you let the Lost Ones take me from your ship!”

Killian reached into his bag and pulled out a large pastry. “I mean you no harm, Baelfire. I never have. Please accept this cake as a token of my commitment to protect you.”

Bae continued looking at Hook, mouth set in an angry line, but finally he nodded ever so slightly, reaching out to take the proffered gift. “Thanks,” Bae said

Killian felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned back to look at Liam.

“Come little brother,” Liam said. “We’ve yet one more stop to make.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Killian felt the soaring, speeding sensation once more, and when he came to a stop, he found himself in the Charmings’ loft. He looked around and saw himself and Swan seated together on the loveseat, their hands entwined.

“Now if you need anything, anything at all don’t hesitate to call. If you can’t get ahold of me, you can always call your father at the sheriff’s station,” Mary Margaret said, agitation clear in every fiber of her being. “Oh I hate leaving like this! If I didn’t still have Christmas shopping to do, I’d never go, but…”

Emma got to her feet, went to her mother and patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Mom! Killian and I will be fine. Little bro will be just fine with his big sis.”

“And though I might not have as much experience with newly born babes as one might wish,” Killian said, standing and putting an arm around Emma, “I look forward to spending time with the little prince. No harm will come to your lad while your daughter and I are caring for him.”

“Besides,” Emma added. “It’s Christmas Eve! Even the Snow Queen wouldn’t dare attack on a day as magical as today. Go! Enjoy your shopping.”

Snow looked unsure for another moment, and then she nodded, giving first Emma and then Killian a hug. “I won’t be more than an hour. And don’t forget! Call me if you need anything!”

“Goodbye, mom,” Emma said, gently steering Snow toward the door. “And don’t rush. Killian and I are excited about staying with Neal. Enjoy yourself!”

With one last worried look back at them, Snow finally left the apartment.

Killian smiled as he watched the hour unfold.

“Pleasant memory, brother?” Liam asked.

“Aye,” Killian said, nodding to his other self, holding a sprig of mistletoe over Emma’s head and then leaning in for a long, slow kiss. “As you can see the first quarter of that hour, while the prince finished his nap, was spent in quite the pleasurable manner.”

“So it would seem,” Liam said with a sly grin. “My prim and proper lieutenant brother has learned how to comport himself around the ladies.”

Killian grinned back. “Aye, so he has. Although this particular woman, my true love, never ceases to keep me on my toes.”

“As I said back in the Underworld, Killian,” Liam allowed. “I was wrong about Miss Swan…or should I say Mrs. Jones? Love quite becomes you, and I have my charming sister-in-law to thank for that.”

“More than you know, brother,” Killian said, thinking about the years of pain and vengeance he’d given up when he met Emma.

A cry shattered the tranquility of the apartment, and Emma pulled her mouth free from Killian’s with a groan. “Guess someone’s up, and he doesn’t sound like he’s in the mood to be patient for his lunch. I better go get him.”

Killian stopped her with a hand to her arm. “Let me, love. You’re far more expert at using the miniature heating box to prepare Neal’s bottle, and I’ve developed quite a fondness for your tiny brother.”

Emma laughed and pecked him once more on the lips. “It’s called a microwave, Killian,” she said, moving in the direction of the kitchen.

“What a thoroughly illogical moniker,” he responded as he headed toward the little nursery off of the Charmings’ bedroom, the sound of Swan’s continued laughter following him about his task.

“Let’s follow,” Liam said, heading toward the nursery, “this is the moment I particularly wished to bring to your memory.”

Killian walked expertly to the cradle, reached in and maneuvered hand and hook beneath the infant, lifted him, and then placed him in the crook of his arm. Neal stopped crying as soon as he was in Killian’s arms.

“There you are, my little prince,” Killian crooned to the child as he slowly walked back toward the apartment’s common area. “Have you a smile for your Uncle Killian this afternoon?”

The little one continued peering up at his sister’s boyfriend, content but stoic.

“He’s too young to be smiling yet,” Emma said, coming up behind him and looking at Neal over Killian’s shoulder. “Won’t start that for another month or so.”

“So it seems,” Killian agreed, turning his head to kiss her gently.

“Want me to feed him?” Emma asked, reaching out for the baby.

Killian sat back onto the couch. “That’s quite alright Swan,” he said, reaching for the bottle, “I’d quite like to do it myself.”

“Suit yourself ‘Uncle Killian’,” Emma said, curling up next to him, laying her head on his shoulder, and reaching over to hold little Neal’s hand.

“Come, Killian,” Liam said, putting an arm around his shoulders, “it’s time we return to your home.”

A moment later, Killian found himself back in his own home, seated once more before the fire and the magnificent Christmas tree. Liam stood before him. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but he looked less solid, less corporeal than before.

“You sense it, do you not, brother?” Liam asked.

“Pardon?”

“You sense that my time with you is nearly over,” Liam said. “I’ve completed my task, shown you what you needed to see.”

“No!” Killian said, getting to his feet, trying to reach for Liam; his hand went right through his brother. “I’ve only just found you again.”

“I’m afraid I must go, Killian,” Liam said with a bittersweet smile. “Paradise calls to me. But brother, I know what’s troubled you this night. I know your fears about your coming son. You mustn’t be afraid; you will make a tremendous father. Until I see you again in the life to come, brother. Farewell.”

And with that Liam faded gently away, his exclamations of delight the last thing Killian heard as his brother returned to his place in Paradise.

Notes:

–So this story is obviously based off of Charles Dickens’s “A Christmas Carol”. That’s always been one of my favorite Christmas stories (and movies), so I thought I’d see if I could turn it into a CS story. In this version, of course, the returning “ghosts” haven’t come to convince Killian to give up his miserly ways before he ends up dying miserable and friendless (and taking a one-way ticket south), but rather they’ve come to show Killian that he doesn’t need to fear his coming fatherhood.

–Up next: Killian is visited by two more ghosts—one showing Christmas present and the other showing Christmas future. Will these ghosts—one a face very familiar to all of us, and one of them not—succeed in calming Killian’s upcoming fatherhood fears?

NEXT CHAPTER-->

#christmas reruns 2023 #cs fanfiction #captain swan christmas ff #my fanfiction #a pirate's christmas carol

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