#Jingle Ball Village

[popentertainment-concertphotos]

P1Harmony – Jingle Ball Village 2023 – KIA Forum – Los Angeles, CA – December 1, 2023  

Photos by Larisa Jiao © 2023

[popentertainmentconcertreviews]

Paul Russell, P1Harmony, GUNNAR, Charlieonnafriday, (G)I-DLE & Teddy Swims – Jingle Ball Village 2023 – KIA Forum – Los Angeles, CA – December 1, 2023  

It’s a rarity to hear roaring cheering while you’re still on your way to the concert venue. However, enthusiastic fans showed up strong for iHeartRadio 102.7 KIIS FM’s 2023 Jingle Ball Pre-Show — some even traveling from different countries and lining up since 5AM in order to catch a glimpse of their favorite artists on stage.

The annual pre-Jingle Ball event enlists the top up-and-coming artists to conduct a Q&A or perform on stage for a dedicated crowd full of fans.

Powerhouse vocalist Teddy Swims took to the stage first — serenading the audience with his soulful vocals that allowed for his raw talent to shine through. While Swims initially gained notoriety by uploading cover songs of classic hits onto YouTube in 2019, it didn’t take long for him to be signed to a label and grow on a massive global scale. Yet, he hasn’t forgotten his sincere appreciation for his fans, saying genuine thanks for coming out to see him sing.

To maintain the exciting momentum, K-pop girl group (G)I-DLE then came onto the stage for a special Q&A. Their incredible stage presence, ranging from striking their best badass poses to getting the fans to sing their hits, made everyone go wild. They freshly completed their second worldwide tour, the “I Am Free-ty World Tour,” spanning 18 countries this year, where they highlighted their meticulous choreography and catchy pop tunes.

Next up was up-and-comer, charlieonnafriday, a rising hip-hop songwriter that quickly amassed a dedicated fanbase on social media with his talent. His captivating energy on stage was apparent as he seamlessly switched between upbeat and more mellow songs that displayed his musical versatility as an artist. He recently was seen opening for Tate McRae’s “Are We Flying” tour and is embarking on his own European tour in April 2024.

Hitting the stage afterwards was California native, GUNNAR, a pop-rock newcomer that has nailed how to command the audience’s attention. He started his set by immediately launching off of the drum platform, jettisoning a few feet into the air all while strumming chords on his electric guitar. The energy for the rest of his set only increased from there. GUNNAR most recently opened for Maroon 5’s sold-out tour across Europe and the U.K.

South Korean boy band, P1Harmony, then proceeded to take the stage amidst a sea of diehard fans who raised up their handmade signs and threw up hearts with their fingers for their favorite group member. With their energetic and catchy tunes sung effortlessly by the group, accompanied by their impeccable dance moves in perfect sync, it’s no surprise P1Harmony has garnered such a large global fanbase with their talent.

Closing out the pre-Jingle Ball show was rapper and singer-songwriter Paul Russell, the ever-exuberant and charming performer that keeps you smiling throughout the entire performance. His energy impressively matched that of the crowd, as he delightfully ran across the stage to engage with all sides of the audience and invited everyone to sing along to the chorus of his songs. Russell first skyrocketed into the public eye when the snippet of his song, “Lil Boo Thang” went viral on TikTok in the summer of 2023. Since then, he was signed to Arista Records and has continued to release songs that infuse a mix of funk, pop, R&B, and hip-hop.

Keep your eye out for the 2024 Jingle Ball Pre-Show lineup for more opportunities to catch incredible emerging artists like these!

Larisa Jiao

Copyright ©2023 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: December 3, 2023.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Hello again, apologies if this has already been answered, but which captains get along the best? Any unlikely friendships within the gotei 13?

I did a post on some of the friendships in AEIWAM but I'd like to elaborate on a few of them so:

Less than a year after the events of Turn Back The Pendulum, Widower Sojun Kuchiki died, and a teenage Byakuya was orphaned.

Now, Byakuya wasn't totally alone in the world- he still had his grandfather and the rest of the Kuchiki clan, but that sort of ended up being the problem. Ginrei was massively overworked as captain of the 6th, and had to ask Byakuya to step into some of his late father's roles early, like taking a diplomatic trip to some of the clan's land holdings up North. A largely boring and scripted event, but an important one and good practice for the future Clan Head.

-So of course, it immediately went catastrophically sideways when a rival clan attacked and attempted to kidnap the Kuchiki heir, shutting down the portal system to prevent support from the Seireitei arriving in a timely manner. Young Byakuya, already doing poorly from the grief of losing his father, suddenly found himself alone in unfamiliar territory, surrounded by enemies and hopelessly outnumbered.

Unfortunately for the rival clan, just because the portals were down didn't mean that other shinigami weren't in the area.

The memory is burned indelibly into Byakuya's mind.

It was a blazingly hot, almost painfully bright bright summer afternoon, the sun gleaming off the blades of his would-be assassins. They were good, and had separated Byakuya from his retinue, but at least he had managed to buy time for the village and the rest of the diplomatic party to escape. He stood, panting, holding the blank asauchi sword that had not yet been called to host a zanpaktou spirit, between himself and the leader of the strike team. All around him, spears and Kido Spells were trained on his person. No escape. Nowhere to strike that wouldn't immediately get him killed.

Despite there not being a breath of wind in the valley where he stood, something was causing the Alarm Bell at the top of the valley to ring, making Byakuya look up-

The sun was behind the leader as he was saying something about how their contract didn't actually specify that they had to keep him *alive* so how about he be a good boy and come quietly before they decided he was more manageable dead, but Byakuya wasn't actually paying attention.

Behind the leader, the sun seemed to be having some kind of spontaneous Eclipse. Or at least, there was a dark spot in the middle of it that seemed to be rapidly expanding and surely that can't be righ-

Sharp

It wasn't even a word, more an impression in his mind that something was hurtling in his general direction with the intent to disembowel, and not even centuries of Noble Breeding to be stoic in the face of peril could stop Byakuya's entirely correct prey animal instinct to duck and cover.

The blast from the impact would have been enough to pin Byakuya to the ground anyway, given how it scattered half the strike team and the dust blinded the rest. Byakuya felt the interloper's feet strike the ground on either side of where he was curled into a defensive ball, and the string of invective was too fast to parse but the way his rough voice echoed in Byakuya's chest left no doubt to his meaning.

A swing of the Odachi from his impressive wingspan cleft three of the assailants in twain and mortally wounded a fourth. The headless corpse of the leader thudded to the ground behind him, vaporized from the neck up by the flying kick he'd taken to the head. There was a strange jingling noise, the bells of a child's toy, and one of the remaining assassins recognized the chime and spiky silhouette-

"SHIT! IT'S THAT SWORD BASTARD! THE ONE FROM NORTH 80!!"

The remaining assassins started to back up, and Byakuya peered up from where he was hiding under the protective stance of recently-appointed 11th Division Captain Zaraki Kenpachi.

"THAT'S CAPTAIN SWORD BASTARD TO YOU!" He roared back, bristling magnificently and the remainder of the strike team scattered.

Once satisfied they were fleeing and not regrouping, Zaraki reached down with his free hand and grabbed Byakuya by the collar, pulling him to his feet.

"Zaraki-Taicho?" He asked, almost not believing his luck. "How did you get here so fast? The portals are down and even Captain Yoru- Captain Fon's shunpo would take days to reach me from seireitei!?"

Slowly, Zaraki turned his head and actually looked down at the boy, single functioning eye blinking in confusion.

"Byakuya?" he asked, cocking his head sideways. "-The fuck are you doin' out here?"

"BYAKUSHI??" Yachiru shrieked with excitement, popping up from behind her father's shoulder, and scrambling over to climb into Byakuya's bewildered arms instead.

"I- I'm on a diplomatic inspection of land holdings for the Kuchiki Clan. Sir." Byakuya babbled, unconsciously settling Yachiru on his hip, still waiting for his heart to resume a regular pulse and not whatever this live-hummingbird-in-his-ribcage nonsense was.

Zaraki squinted, displeased with that answer. "...Didn't your dad die just last week? The fuck are you doing out here? You should be home mourning or something."

Byakuya's gaze flicked away from the captain, face wan and jaw tense. "I have. Duties." he winced.

"Hf." Zaraki grunted, still displeased, and Yachiru pulled a spare hair tie out of her kimono. "Whatever. Relatedly, where the fuck is 'here', actually? Also- We have a Portal system??" he asked, changing the subject gracelessly but with deep mercy.

"We are in Inuzka, the town inside the Kuchiki Clan's ancestral land holdings in North 41." he answered- Zaraki could stand to be more polite, but Byakuya had to admit he wasn't precisely out of line- He wasn't Clan Head yet, and even if he was, as a Captain, Zaraki still would outrank him. "If you didn't come here by the portals, you must have already been in the area... Forgive my impudence into prying, but what are you doing here? Eleventh Division exercises?"

"I'm fuckin' lost." Zaraki shugged, unbothered by the question. "Tryin' to go see family while they're done here for the summer and I thought I could just follow the Red River up to the headwaters and then I'd be close enough but I must've picked the wrong tributary..." He muttered, folding his arms into his Kosode and reaching out through the neck hole to scratch under his chin, contemplative.

Byakuya blinked in surprise. "I didn't know you HAD a famil-" He started, then slapped his hand over his mouth, mortified.

"HAH!" Zaraki's laugh rang through the empty street and he affectionately slapped Byakuya's shoulder. "Did you think I just fell out of the sky one day? 'Salright, I look like something that got tossed out of Heaven's garbage tip." he grinned, and Yachiru giggled as she braided Byakuya's hair.

"My apologies, sir." He mumbled, face flushed. "-Well, the Gotei-13 *had* a portal system but this was a very coordinated attempt to kidnap me and there was an agent in the Seireitei that sabotaged the portal system, preventing both a retreat and form help arriving. I got the villagers and my retinue safely through before they went down, but I'm not sure how I'm getting back..." he puzzled.

Zaraki frowned into the distance, the hand on Byakuya's shoulder rubbing a slow circle as he considered something. "These duties- sort of a 'go practice yer meetin' people manners' trip?"

"It was supposed to be a routine diplomatic excursion, yes." Byakuya nodded, confused. "I've been here before with- with my father, and we had planned to go together again, so it's not like this was dropped on me suddenly." he muttered.

Zaraki nodded. " 'S summer break for school right now, yeah? Yachiru starts school in September, when do you go back?"

"Um. The first week of September as well?" Byakuya blinked confused.

Zaraki tilted his head to peer down at Byakuya, and gave him a strange grin. "-And you know how to read a map, right?"

"Yes?" Byakuya huffed, starting to get annoyed at this strange interrogation.

Zaraki suddenly dropped into a crouch, single eye level with Byakuya's own, and the boy startled to see that his iris was a pale yellow, like a hawk. The Captain threw his arm around his shoulders and pulled him in close.

"...How d'ya feel about goin' on a REAL Diplomatic Mission?" he asked with a decidedly conspiratorial drawl.

"YEAH! COME SEE BA-SAMA!" Yachiru bounced in his arms with excitement, waving a handful of clover flowers he suspected were being incorporated into the braid.

Byakuya tilted his head sideways, hoping they would make more sense at a forty-five-degree angle.

***

Minutes later, the recently-installed Spirit Phone on Kuchiki Clan Head and 6th Division Captain Ginrei Kuchiki's desk rang.

The elderly head of the Kuchiki clan looked to his even more elderly commander, and then to the piebald clown that was now running the 12th division. Mayuri pressed a button on the strange device he'd hooked up to the Spirit Phone which would allow them to record and track the call, which whirred and clicked, and he listened for a moment into the earphones before giving Ginrei a thumbs-up. Yamamoto nodded as well, and with grave seriousness befitting a likely hostage situation, Ginrei picked up the receiver.

"Captain Ginrei Kuchiki speaking." He spoke, trying to keep the icy growl out of his voice and failing.

"Hi Grandpa!" Byakuya called cheerfully on the other end of the line.

"BYAKUYA?!" Ginrei yelped. "Are you alright? You need to get out of Inuzuka now! The Ozaki clan have-!"

"Oh no, no- they already attacked! I'm fine!" Byakuya interrupted him. "Captain Zaraki saved me!"

There was a moment of very confused silence.

"...Zaraki?" Yamamoto asked, stepping in to speak into the receiver as well. "What's he doing there?"

"You gave me leave to go see my family and tell them where I live now, remember Boss?" Zaraki grunted.

"HI JI-SAN!" Yachiru called as well.

"...Well that worked out nicely. What a stroke of good planning on my part." Yamamoto nodded and Mayuri rolled his eyes.

"I- Thank you, Zaraki-taicho." Ginrei said, bewildered but genuine. "...Where are you now?"

"I'm calling from the spirit phone in the town council building in Inuzuka." Byakuya explained. "If I may grandfather, about me getting home-"

"It's going to take at least three months to get the portals up and running again." Mayuri grunted, disappointed that he was not getting to test out his new spirit phone tracking invention.

"...Three months?" Yamamoto glared.

"Don't glare at me like that!" Mayuri huffed. "-With anybody else in charge a blast like that would have taken the system out for good, but *I* build in redundancies! Which are. also damaged. but not obliterated! Urahara hadn't backed up SHIT, if this had happened last year-!"

"Yeah, yeah- Hop to." Yamamoto waved.

"Well, since the portals aren't going to be working any time soon and I'm already more than halfway from the city- I had a thought." Byakuya spoke up, voice gentle and sentences clearly enunciated, making sure Ginrei could follow his logic. "It's an awful shame that the Land Holdings Assessment Meeting won't be held this year, but Zaraki-taicho's family is significantly farther north than I thought, and the journey there would take me through several very underrepresented districts-"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT." Ginrei snarled. "I knew it was wrong to send you to the Holdings without an armed escort, I'm sending the Onmitsukido out to collect you this instant!"

"Now hold on a minute." Yamamoto cautioned him with a hand on his shoulder as there was a muffled noise on the other end of the line. "-I know you're worried but-"

"-He's a Kuchiki, ain't he?" Zaraki interrupted on the other end.

"Yes? Of course? What does that have to do with anything?" Ginrei demanded.

"-Future Head of The Clan and Captain, yeah?" Zaraki continued. "He's gonna have to deal with shit like this sooner rather than later. Already dealin' with it! Tryin' to hide him back in the compound won't teach the kid shit."

Ginrei sighed, pushing his glasses up to rub the bridge of his nose, perfectly aware of where this was going.

"He's not made of spun glass- hell, he'd forced the assassins into having to siege him to get to him when I showed up. Exactly the correct choice for the options and information he had- But I do think you're right that he still needs an armed escort while he's learnin'. I'm armed, and I'd be Escortin' him." Zaraki offered. "...Actually, he'd be escorting me, I'm lost as hell and Byakuya knows how to read a map. I get more time with my family, he gets- What'd ya call it?"

"It would be an Exceptionally Valuable Diplomatic Experience." Byakuya chimed in.

"Byakuya..." Ginrei groaned. They had coordinated and rehearsed this, Gods help him.

"While I appreciate your concern Grandfather, and no shame to the Onmitsukido, but recent events have shown that sufficiently motivated criminals will try their luck against them." The boy continued, undeterred. "...Wheras Captain Zaraki is well-known in these parts- to the point that the Ozaki Clan's would-be assassins scattered at his mere silhouette. I honestly think that 'Within Arm's Reach of The Current Kenpachi' is quite possibly the safest place I could be in all of Soul Society."

"Kid's got a point." Mayuri shrugged, prodding at his call-tracking device. "Even *I* had heard of him as a fighter when I was still on the outside, and I was operating clean on the other side of the Rukongai! The guards at The Maggot's Nest speculated that if he were ever to cross the law, he might not be arrested because they didn't think that hole could actually hold him. Rather natural that he ended up here- very literally nobody in the rukongai wants to cross blades with him anymore."

Ginrei fixed Mayuri with a horrified stare, gaze slowly shifting to Yamamoto.

"...You're both Captains and privy to classified information, but this does not leave this room." Yamamoto said, covering the receiver and glaring imperiously down at both men. "Zaraki's family, especially his Mother, is someone we very much need to stay on the good side of, and I am NOT going to interrupt communication between them, lest we suffer Her wrath."

"Captain Kurotsuchi was in prison?" Byakuya asked, voice muffled like he'd covered the receiver with his hand as well. "-Yeah, he heard 'a me and I heard 'a him, which is why I ask Akon and *Not Him* if I ever need anything out of the 12th." replied Zaraki.

"...Who is She?" Ginrei frowned. "-And if She is so dangerous, you think Byakuya is the person we want to send as a diplomat to Her?"

"What for?" Byakuya continued, curious. "-Operatin' without a license." Zaraki shrugged.

"How does your mouth feel after saying that, Captain Kuchiki?" Yamamoto asked, voice light and pleasantly curious in a way that belied extreme danger.

"It's f-" Ginrei started and stopped. There was an odd sensation in his mouth, a sting like he'd taken a sip of tea without letting it cool down. "...Why is my mouth burning?"

"You were present for the execution of traitor Soya Azashiro, yes?" Yamamoto smiled menacingly.

"Operating what?" Byakuya asked, puzzled. "-Or anesthetic." Zaraki elaborated. "...Ah." Byakuya winced.

"Yes, the sight and heat of the released form of the Sokyoku is not something I'll soon forget, but what does that have to do with..?" Ginrei stopped as a horrible, terrifying thought occurred to him.

"I still do not entirely understand how-" Yamamoto admitted, patting Ginrei on the shoulder. "But Kiko'o is both Captain Zaraki's Uncle, and quite submissive to his Big Sister."

Ginrei paled.

Mayuri frowned in confusion, trying to work out how that happened, biologically speaking. "-Did Zaraki fucking hatch out of an Egg?"

"You can ask him when he returns with young master Kuchiki!" Yamamoto grinned. "-But that said, you see why I will not do anything that would turn her attention to Seireitei."

"...I understand." Ginrei gulped. "-but he's just a boy!"

"Take heart- You've seen how fond and protective of children Zaraki is? By all accounts, it's something he picked up from Her. Byakuya's youth will serve us all well." Yamamoto explained, uncovering the recciver. "Let him go."

Ginrei grimaced, but nodded and lifted both pieces of the Spirit Phone to his face again.

"-was in prison too, but that's just because his family sucked ass and didn't realize talent when they saw it-" Zaraki was explaining on the other end.

"Byakuya?" Ginrei asked.

"Yes, grandfather?" Byakuya asked, Zaraki's voice stopping like he'd been physically shoved aside.

"This journey will take some time, and I am concerned about your schooling." Ginrei said, never one to give up ground.

"Winter comes early up there, we'll be home well before term starts!" Byakuya assured him. "Captain Zaraki suggested I write to you for your sanity while I was away, but I feel like it would be a legitimate academic exercise to write reports on the lesser-known districts for as well." he offered.

"That is very generous of you to offer, young Kuchiki. I would appreciate Zaraki-taicho's local knowledge of the area in those as well." Yamamoto added, grinning at Zaraki's audible groan on the other end.

Ginrei winced. "Promise to return home by the last week of august, and sooner should any disaster befall you."

"Oh yeah, anyone loses a limb or major internal organ we'll hoof it right back!" Zaraki said, managing to evoke the exact opposite of reassurance, and Ginrei hid his face in his hand.

"I promise." Byakuya said, voice soft and sincere. "I'll write often, and call when possible."

"...Please, take care, Hokushin." Ginrei begged, using the boy's nickname. Public displays of sentimentality were unacceptable, but... this was his only grandson, about to venture deep into the wilds with some maniac!

"I will, Ji-san. I'll be fine, I promise." Byakuya replied, returning the intimate nickname.

"Alright punk, we need to get moving before it gets dark." Zaraki interjected, ending the call with an unexpected social grace. "See you in August Old man!"

"Bye Kuchiki-ji! Bye Jii-san!" Yachiru called.

"Go in good health, and I look forward to both your reports!" Yamamoto dismissed them.

"Didn't catch that Boss, bad line-" Zaraki said, then abruptly hung up, negating any vague hopes Ginrei had about his diplomatic prowess.

"Oh gods- What have I done?" Ginrei cried, hanging up the phone and hiding his hands in his face.

"Well, you've agreed to let your only heir and grandson walk into the most violently uncivilized parts of the rukongai under the supervision of a violent maniac that was raised by birds, and a toddler!" Mayuri explained, unhelpfully.

"Don't you have a portal system you need to be repairing?" Yamamoto glared.

"I'm multi-tasking." the freak of unnatural sciences waved, fiddling with his newfangled 'textual communicator' device. "My point is, loathe as I am to agree with someone like Zaraki, he's got a point. If your little star is going to be captain someday he needs to learn to handle worse than this. He'll be fine, or he wasn't qualified in the first place."

"Keep that name out of your mouth, clown." Ginrei snarled.

"That's the spirit!" Mayuri cheered, pumping a not-totally-ironic fist. "Mind copying me on those reports? That shit's gonna be HILARIOUS."

"KUROTSUCHI! PORTALS!" Yamamoto barked and the captain of the 12th abruptly made himself scarce. The captain-general gently laid a hand on Ginrei's shoulder, and Ginrei placed his own atop it.

"I never had children of my own, so I cannot imagine the depth of your fear, but I can imagine it pains you." Yamamoto sighed. "But that was the right thing to do. He will be fine."

"He will. He has to be." Ginrei sighed, sitting back in his chair. "...though I fear that Zaraki's presence may presence may prove more educational to the boy than any of us intended."

***

"Just a tip for the future-" Zaraki sighed, turning to Byakuya after hanging up. "-once someone agrees to your demands, you don't offer additional incentives. That just makes it a worse deal for you."

"I know that!" Byakuya protested. "-the second he brought up my schooling I knew Grandfather agreed to the trip, but that was also him retreating to the tactical ground of controlling my schooling. The offer of reports was the Opening Salvo of the next battle."

"...Fought the old man a lot eh?" Zaraki cocked a heavy, bald brow at him.

"There are limited opponents for me to practice diplomatic sparring on." Byakuya shrugged. "...but yes, he is a prickly old sod."

Zaraki barked a laugh and shook Byakuya's shoulder affectionately. "Alright, where the fuck are we, actually?"

"We're... Here, in Inuzuka Village." Byakuya pointed to their location on the large map on the wall of the village hall. "I'm not sure where in North 80 your family is-"

"Way up here, on the coast." Zaraki pointed out. "So... Oh, we did pick the right tributary!"

"I told you so!" Yachiru rolled her eyes, adding more clovers to Byakuya's braid.

"Lessee- We should raid this place for anything useful first, but we need to get moving soon so we're somewhere high before it gets dark, but... Oh hey, is this Saikoro the place with the big gambling house?" Zaraki asked, tapping a point on the map just upriver.

"I believe so?" Byakuya nodded.

"...Ya wanna learn how to shark at pool?" Zaraki grinned the same conspiratorial grin.

This time, Byakuya nodded enthusiastically.

[sabrinasgallery]

★﹐sabrina carpenter: 102.7 kiss fm’s jingle ball village (2016)．﹗★

[cultofdixon]

It Takes Two

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Part 2 to “It Takes a Village” • Rick Grimes’ Sister!Reader • You have always been a curious kid. Now so is your kid…and with a certain resident in Alexandria. Who everyone didn’t expect to have a soft side for the young Grimes • ANGST/SFW/NSFW • TW: Anxiety Attacks / Nightmares / Injuries / Mentions of Canon Violence / Mentions of Pregnancy / Depression / Past Abuse • Re-Writing Canon

Requested by: Anon

PREV

Winter has started, and Alexandria was fuller than ever. They may not know exactly when the holidays were but it was enough to have their families in the Kingdom and Hilltop come to Alexandria. Meaning a lot of kids. But it was perfect…especially the snow.

A small groan escapes the waking child as he lifts his head from his pillow to look out the window and notice the falling snow. That alone ignited the energy he needed to get out of bed and wake up his mom.

His mom who would much rather stay in bed during a cold morning, but her excited four year old alerted not only the Mal living in the house…but the five year old that belonged to the Hilltop residents taking up her guest room.

“Mama!” Shepherd practically yells but Dog jumped on the bed when he got the door open.

“Shep…it’s early”

“It’s snowing!” He smiles running to her side of the bed gripping her blankets and tugging at them until the tired Y/N sat up. Her playful scowl appearing when Dog started to lick her face to help her wake up. “Dog wants to go too!”

“Let me guess…you woke up Hershel too?”

“He’s getting his mommy and daddy right now!” His face lights up with even more excitement as he knows the second he gets his snow gear on he was going to get his cousins next door.

“Get dressed baby and I’ll meet you downstairs” Y/N smiles watching her happy boy run out and Dog following him. “Don’t forget the gloves and beanie!” She adds hearing an ok yelled back before rolling over to the other side of the bed to address the archer that rolled off once he heard Dog’s collar jingling. “I’m gonna get dressed…and head out with Shep. That’ll give you your window”

Daryl groans upon sitting up from the floor feeling Y/N’s lips meet his temple when she leaned over. “He’s startin’ to get up before me”

“He’s going to find out before we even tell him…”

“I promise yea. We’ll get our day” The archer leaned into her kissing her before letting Y/N get dressed and ready.

The two have always had a bond with one another. But it wasn’t until Shep turned 3 that they took the risk. Daryl always loved her and would’ve waited til the end of his life for her. For her to be ready on her terms, but all she needed was for her small family of two to be secure. Safe. And Y/N knew she was safe with the archer and so was her son. Daryl loves her son as if he was his own even if Shepherd doesn’t know their relationship.

For now they kept it between them, and the priority was always going to be Shepherd.

Glenn was the fastest in getting ready next to the kids as he chases Hershel Jr and Shepherd through the snow for a bit while the rest of the Grimes got dressed for the snow day. Maggie stayed on the porch waiting for Y/N while she got Dog in a sweater before letting him join in the chaos.

“Where’s Daryl?” Maggie asks once Y/N stepped out while getting her gloves on.

“I just told him what we were doing so he should be joining us soon. But he’ll be getting Carol and her family, then Aaron and his daughter”

“Can you believe it?” Maggie smiles looking out to the small crowd for now. “We survived and thrived after all that happened”

“It’s surreal for sure” Y/N smiles watching her son gather a snow ball and pelt Dog making the Mal get excited to play ball.

As Shep made his way more down the street running away from the snowballs that were coming from the Rhees then his cousins, he stopped to hear someone curse because of how cold it was. He made his way to the little vent that looked into the room finding their resident prisoner shivering his ass off.

“Mama!”

Y/N immediately turns to her son seeing his frustrated expression which started to worry her.

“What’s wrong baby?” She walks away from the crowd of adults on Rick’s porch to kneel before her son as he struggled to get his words out.

“Th—uh. Uhm. I’m cold”

“Uncle Rick has the fireplace going, the adults were gonna go inside while Carl watches you little ones out here…you wanna come warm up a bit?”

“No! It’s…uhm. Mama…” Shep’s frustration came out in a whine making Y/N sigh a bit before standing up and extending her hand to the small child.

“Lead the way to what you need”

Shep immediately took her hand and pulled her back to their house. Then upstairs to the hall closet that Y/N kept spare blankets in.

“You can’t bring a blanket out in the snow, baby”

“No! It’s for…” Then the little one held a guilty expression which only confused his mother more.

“Shepherd.”

Daryl steps out of the Grimes’ residence when he didn’t find Y/N in there. Then he spotted her carrying blankets while following her son toward the cell. He quickly picked up his crossbow off the porch and ran over to the two.

“Hey, what’s wrong what are y’all doing?” Daryl stops Y/N while Shepherd proceeded.

“Shep heard Negan complaining that he was cold”

“So what?”

“Daryl. I’m not doing anything outside of the council’s guidelines regarding Negan. I’m simply doing what my son wants” Y/N states, and that want being kind toward their prisoner and giving him extra blankets during the winter. “He’s not going to hurt Shep…or me”

“I’m comin’ then”

“If it makes you less helicopter-y” She jokes making her way downstairs and helping Shepherd with the door.

Their presence sort of startled Negan given the door leading outside was never the quietest and the looming archer on the steps made him feel uneasy. But his attention locked onto the Grimes sister handing the blankets to this small child he’s never met before, and for good reason. Negan wanted to stand up and approach the bars but the way Daryl was glaring at him. He stayed put, until the small child approached the bars holding up the blankets.

“You don’t have to”

Shepherd frowns looking up at his mom while hugging the blankets tightly. “But mama I want to…” he said in a hush whisper as Y/N gently pets his head.

“You tell him, baby. Not me”

The little one went back to the bars of the cell looking up at Negan who approached the bars when he looked at his mother.

“But I want to” Now how can anybody ever be mad at that adorable face of his? Negan extended his hands taking the blankets through the bars watching the little one light up.

“Thanks kid…appreciate it”

The young grimes smiles happily before heading back out and instantly running into Daryl. The archer knew what was bound to happen with the child and that was Shep wanting to be picked up by him.

“Can’t say no to him” Y/N smiles receiving a look from the archer indicating that he’d never say no to him wanting to be picked up. Even if the man groaned picking up Shepherd. “Go on ahead. I’ll be a minute”

“Y/N—-“

“Just go. Please”

Daryl can’t say no to the puppy dog eyes, especially when Shepherd gets it from his mother. He nods before carrying Shep out of there leaving Y/N with Negan for a moment.

“You’ve got a nice kid…”

“I really do huh?” Y/N smiles approaching the bars to Negan’s cell as he suddenly started to feel anxious when her smile remained hit her eyes said it all. “So let me make it clear to you, Negan. If you hurt my boy. With your words or even physically, I’ll be doing everyone a favor and ending your life” She hissed glaring at the man watching him nod before leaving the cell.

All the kids were inside warming up and all the little ones were watching Henry show them how to play cards. Go Fish to be exact. While the adults had a drink and catch up.

“Your turn Shepherd” Henry’s voice snapped the kid out of his thoughts as Shep looks at his cards before setting all his cards down to show that he’s been hogging pairs but more specifically to leave the small table to go to his mom.

“He’s a card shark” Judith states not knowing exactly what that means.

“That’s…used in a different game? But I guess that works here” Henry laughs collecting the cards and shuffling the deck.

“Mama…” Shep whispers to get Y/N’s attention while Rick was telling Maggie about how he and Michonne were thinking of taking a trip. Y/N sets her glass down turning to her son and his upset expression. “I wanna go home…”

“Are you okay?” She whispers back not wanting to cause alarm or interrupt the on going conversation.

“No…” He whines in his whisper hugging Y/N’s leg. He relaxed a little when his mother rubbed circles on his back. “Can we go?”

“Yes, go get your shoes and coat on” Y/N got up from her seat once Shep ran over to where all the shoes were. “I’m turning in guys”

“Really?” Rick frowns, it wasn’t that late. Even for the kids.

“Yeah, Shep’s gettin’ tired and the alcohol isn’t sitting right with me.” Y/N left after saying such to get her coat on and pick up her son who instantly latched onto her.

“We’ll be quiet when we turn in” Maggie makes one last comment watching Y/N smile before stepping out with Dog also joining the two.

While the three made their way home, Shep tugged at Y/N’s coat when her attention was already on him.

“Forget somethi—-“

“Why is he down there, mama?” Shep frowns watching her face soften but also worry for she doesn’t know how to approach that conversation without going too far.

“He did something bad, Shepherd…that’s why he’s down there”

“But I do bad things too…like leave my shoes out for Dog to chew and you get mad…”

“It’s…uh” Y/N frowns setting Shepherd down on their porch to sit as she sat beside him. “You’re too young to understand the kind of bad things he did before you were born…”

“…can you try?”

How do you go telling a four year old about the abuse his mother endured done by that terrible man? Or the abuse Daryl, someone he looks up to, has gone through…the horrors of the Saviors threatening to kill members of their family…

You just. Don’t.

“He hurt people, Shep. In a way I can’t tell you…”

Shepherd frowns bringing himself closer to his mom leaning against her.

“Did he hurt you, mama…?”

Y/N didn’t say another word as she was fighting back tears when thinking about it. All she did was bring her son into his embrace holding onto him like her light depended on it. And part of him knew. Even if he didn’t understand.

Once it was late enough, Daryl came upstairs to check on Y/N thinking Shepherd would be in his room but entering the room he noticed the little one curled up in his mother’s embrace. He still brought himself to sit on the edge of the bed resting his hand on her shoulder watching her turn slowly to him revealing tears in her eyes.

“What happened?” He whispers watching her turn back to her son as Shepherd unconsciously scooted closer in her embrace.

“…I’m triggered D. It’s hard to sleep” She whispers back feeling Shep shift once more, enough to pull away from her and star fish on the rest of her bed. Giving her enough space to turn onto her back looking up at Daryl as he carefully wipes away her tears. “I know they don’t stay little and overwhelmingly kind forever…but I don’t want him taking that away from my baby”

“He won’t. I promise yea” Daryl frowns giving her enough space to sit up and hug him. He held her for as long as she needed.

~

“Remember, listen to Uncle Rick and stay out of trouble” Y/N tells Shep who didn’t want his mom to go on the hunting trip with Daryl and Carol. “I’ll be back before you know it”

“Why can’t I go with you?”

“You will buddy, when you’re a bit older” Daryl ruffle his hair a bit before Shep latched onto his leg. “Aw come on, bud”

“Please don’t go…”

It was spring, which meant more hunting trips. Shepherd didn’t mind when it was one of the two leaving, but they both were going on this one and he didn’t like it one bit.

“We’ll be back before you know it, Shep. I promise” Y/N knelt down for her son to hug her tightly once more.

Before watching the three go from Rick’s porch.

The agenda for the first day was boring. Or to Shepherd a bit boring. He loves helping when given the chance to but he doesn’t like working on the farm unless it was with his mom. Because they would play “I Spy” while collecting the crops and help him with his counting when putting in new seeds. Rick knew about this and was trying to do it with Shep, but that’s another thing. He only likes doing it with his mom. Otherwise he just helps tug the basket along while Rick cleans up the dead plants and getting the soil ready for new seeds.

“You okay Shep?”

“Can I go get water?”

Rick sighs nodding with a smile. “Be back quick. And get me a glass too”

Shepherd smiles setting the basket down by his uncle before leaving the farm and heading back toward the houses. Except after he got his uncle a canteen instead of a glass, because Michonne stopped him in the middle of her conversation with Siddiq and Gabriel to switch the glass with a canteen since the kid can be clumsy, Shepherd was given a second one for himself but instead of using it for himself.

Negan froze to the sound of said canteen falling onto the concrete floor. It’s sturdy so it didn’t crack or anything. He looks up through the vents to see Shepherd looking back at him before running back to his uncle.

Once the chores Rick had were done and the help of tidying up done by both him and Shepherd, the two made their way back to Rick’s place for dinner and then turning in. Shepherd was set up in the spare in their place which had a grown ups bed and not his low toddler one.

Shep couldn’t sleep, and can’t ever when his mom wasn’t home in any way. She could be standing somewhere else in Alexandria and he’d be able to sleep. He pushed his blankets off of him and maneuvered his body on the edge of the bed so his feet were first to hit the floor but it was still a bit too high that he fell anyway. The little one didn’t want to alert anyone given he went to bed around the same time as his cousins, but the adults could still be awake.

The little one has been spending a lot of time with Daryl.

Because Shepherd managed to get out of the house through the doggy door in the kitchen while the adults (Rick and Michonne) were in the living room. Thank god he was small enough or that would be a very uncomfortable conversation telling Y/N her son got stuck in the doggy door.

The resident prisoner heard footsteps draw closer, followed by a whine that Negan can only connect to Dog. So it must’ve been Daryl but when Shepherd came into view by the vent sitting beside it and Dog laying next to him, Negan only grew more confused.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“How do you know when bedtime is?” Shepherd looks at him confused leaving the man stumped.

“Forget it. Your mom will kill me if she finds you here. Hell even your uncle or whatever Daryl is to yea”

“He uh…uhm. Just Daryl?” The confusion in his tone made Negan a bit curious about the two’s relationship since he thinks Shep probably doesn’t know that his mom and Daryl are seeing each other. He wasn’t about to put them in any way.

“Are you close with Daryl? Like how you are with your uncle Rick?”

“I don’t know”

“What do you mean?” Negan brought himself to sit on the floor against the wall where the vent was as Shepherd sat on the small grass patch by the vent with Dog surrounding him.

“I used to call him Uncle Daryl…but something happened” Shep tugged at the grass while he spoke. “He was there for me when I’m sad. Helped me with my shoelaces. Get my sippy cups from the high shelves. Patch my boo boos. Let me sit with him while he works on his bike. Other things that Uncle Rick doesn’t do with me”

“You see him as a dad?” Negan’s question was met with silence. “What would your old man think?”

“I don’t have a dad”

If he starts crying, better start digging your grave Negan thought as he was prepared for tears but was met with a sigh instead.

“Mama says I never had one. But I always saw Daryl as one” Shepherd frowns as he stops tugging at the grass seeing the damage he has done. “Is that bad?”

“What? Seeing Daryl as your dad?”

“Yeah…”

“Well. He helps with your boo boos. I think that’s pretty much dad material…when I taught PE which was just watching a bunch of kids in a yard to get rid of the energy in’em, some kids would stumble. Cry. Get banged up by either concrete or a plastic bat. I wouldn’t know what to do and pull a teacher move with the whole “go to the nurse” when most nurses in schools back in my day didn’t do a very good job”

“That’s bad”

“Real bad. But I just pawned the problem off to somebody else. Daryl? He takes care of yea. Would do about anythin’ for yea. I don’t see a problem in calling him dad.” Negan shrugs. “But that’s a conversation for your mom. And then Daryl”

Shepherd was about to ask another question when he heard his name being called. Negan heard it as well and rose to his feet going toward the vent to look at Shep.

“You better go back before he gets worried”

“ok, goodnight”

“Night kid” Negan states hearing the tussle of his footsteps and the dog getting up with him before it faded away.

The next morning came and Negan woke to the sound of the outside door opening. Maybe it was confessional day but to his surprise he saw Shepherd coming down the steps with Michonne. Michonne came down for other business while Shepherd carried drawing supplies to distract him from their conversation. But some part of him knew that Negan enjoyed the company.

“Well good mornin’ to y’all”

“Good morning” Shepherd instantly replies back before sitting on the ground and dropping all of his supplies while Michonne took the chair bringing it to the bars of his cell.

“The council is holding a meeting about you soon”

“Oh wonderful” Negan frowns sitting back on his bed leaning against the wall. “What about?”

“Well. One, Y/N thought you should have warmer items in here for the future winters.” Michonne pointed with her eyes to Shepherd as it was really his idea being told through his mom. “Second, we were thinking you could actually do stuff around Alexandria. It won’t mean you’re instantly free. More so—-“

“Community service and I come back here once I’m done for the day? You’re really trustin’ me with that?”

“Why not?” Shepherd chimes in seeing confused looks as Michonne gave Negan a warning one mainly for his words.

“Nobody trusts me, Shep. Which in this case makes sense…but imagine being untrustworthy and being given chores around the other residents” Negan states while approaching the cell bars and sitting on his side across from Shepherd.

“Mama doesn’t trust me around Daryl’s crossbow. Is it like that?”

“Sort of. But your mama must’ve said I’m a bad dude”

“Yeah?”

“That’s why I’m questioning if Michonne here trusts me enough to do chores around the place without causing trouble”

“Can’t he just be watched when he’s not locked up, auntie?” Shep looks up at his aunt with a small smile as Michonne took note of that because it’s not a bad idea.

“You’re not manipulating him to say these things right?” Michonne questions Negan as she watches Shepherd bring himself close with a piece of paper and a few crayons handing one to Negan to play tic tac toe with him. Negan kept a distance but did play with the kid through the bars.

“From the time Y/N lived at the Sanctuary, yeah she was defensive to me but to everybody else who weren’t part of my troop. More like the other residents…she was overwhelmingly kind. Stood up for those who needed it, even if there were consequences…but just. She was too damn kind to everybody in that shitshow—-“

“Language” Both Shepherd and Michonne state hearing Negan apologize before letting Shep win the game.

“This boy has her kind side. It’s all him”

~

The council decided to let Negan work around Alexandria with a handful of chores each day and at least one day where he’s remaining in his cell. The one watching him changes every day, like it used to be. Unlike when he would be checked in on every other hour when he remained in his cell.

His help was much needed during the summer. And not just for chores.

Judith was playing with Gracie in the gardens while their dads were working on the nearby walls to do the yearly maintenance on the structures. While Shepherd’s mom helped in the actual gardens with Negan, meaning Y/N was on Negan duty and Shep was also around helping. But once he told his mom he was going to ask his cousin if he could play with them, her line of sight was no longer on him for a short time.

“You’re cutting too close to the main stem”

“My bad, hey where’s that rugrat? He said he’d help separate the tomatoes with the good and bad ones”

“He wanted to play with his cousin. I’ll separate them when I wash them once we’re done” Y/N states picking up the full basket and setting it on the table Daryl placed for them.

“Judith his cousin right?” Negan asks hearing a ‘yes’ from the boy’s mom as he turns around to where he knew the girls were playing when they first started harvesting. “Then where is he?”

“What?” Her tone changed instantly as she turns around to look at the two girls. “Where could he have gone…” she tried to remain calm hopefully when she got closer to the two girls that Shepherd would appear in her line of sight but he hasn’t.

“Aunt Y/N?” Judith questions her presence and a sense of regret rose in her. “Uhm. Where’s Shepherd?”

“I should be asking you that Judith.” The sternness made those working around them come to a slow stop. “Shepherd wanted to play with you, but he’s not here. So what did you say to my son?”

“Y/N. Woah, tone it back”

“I’m sorry Rick but I’m not.” Y/N bites. “It’s only been ten minutes and my son hasn’t turned up to my voice. He could’ve gotten out and be lost out there. Or got stuck somewhere here. While you’re handling dangerous stuff.”

“He’ll turn up, sis. He couldn’t have gotten far”

“He wouldn’t have wandered off if your daughter wasn’t mean and told my son he couldn’t play with her!”

“Don’t blame this on Jude. You’re too busy keeping an eye and being nice with the prisoner that it’s your own damn fault for losing sight of your son” Rick snaps back and the regret didn’t set in until Y/N retracted herself away with that same anxious sad look on her face when she was taken by the Saviors. “Shit…”

“Dad…” Judith frowns looking up at her dad. “I told him he couldn’t play with us. I-I didn’t think he would run away”

“He didn’t run away, hun. He’ll turn up” Rick frowns about to ask Aaron to watch the girls when he watched him take his gloves off.

“I’m gonna grab Daryl and help Y/N find Shepherd, Gracie…” Aaron kneels to his daughter. “Stay with these Grimes. Okay?” He smiles when she nods before getting up and heading off.

“Aaron I—-“

“I think you need to sit with what you said to your sister. You’ve done plenty” Aaron gave him a pity smile before going to help his sister.

While the commotion was happening, Negan knew he had to go back to his cell if his watcher wasn’t going to watch him. But to his surprise, he found the currently sobbing child in his open cell knowing it would be the last place his mom would look for him.

“Hey kiddo…” Negan frowns moving to sit on the cot of his bed as Shepherd hid under a blanket right beside it. His little grass stained shoes peeking out gave him away. “Want to tell me what happened up there?”

“No…”

“Mm. You’re gonna have to tell your ma regardless. Just thought you’d want a friend” He states watching the blanket move to show his crying face as he looks over to him.

“Jude told me I couldn’t play with her cause I’m a baby” Shep frowns sniffling. “I’m not a baby, I’m four”

“Practically an adult” Negan states leaning against the wall. “She wasn’t thinkin’”

“She never thinks…Uncle Rick doesn’t either”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Of course there was more to it…

“He talks about mama behind her back…when she’s on her trips that aren’t safe for me” Shepherd frowns curling up as much as he could. “How she was stupid…to have me grow up without a dad…that she shouldn’t do anything without me cause she signed up for that…” the tears kept coming as his lip wobbles. “Am I a mistake…? Did mama make a mistake in having me? Not letting me have a dad?”

“Woah” Negan brought himself up and off the cot bringing himself to sit beside the kid. “I’m gonna be honest with you. If your mama didn’t want you, you wouldn’t be here. And your uncle was only thinking of himself when he said that. Cuz if you were my nephew, I would be stoked to hang out with yea. And this whole dad crap? Is bullshit”

“Language…”

“Whatever. Because you have a village. A huge family. You don’t need a dad. But you have one and we had this discussion before. Besides. Your mom? Loves you so much, hell enough for two parents, even beyond that. When she’d be walking the streets on a late return home, you’re the only thing she’s talking about to whoever she went on the trip with. And hell! You’re one of the greatest things to happen to her that it would have to take knocking her out to have her shut up about how much she loves yea.”

The little one continued to cry but he was smiling and felt a bit better to his words.

“Plus. The whole dad thing? Those guys hover a lot when they’re worried about their kid.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah and I KNOW. FOR A FACT” Negan yells emphasizing who’s eavesdropping. “THAT HES NOT LETTING HIMSELF BE KNOWN RIGHT NOW.”

The sigh didn’t go unnoticed when Daryl made his way down the steps with a worried look on his face. But he also wasn’t accompanied by Y/N, so he heard everything Shepherd said including the part about Rick.

“See? A dad. Don’t matter if he’s blood or not. And between you and me” Negan started to whisper to Shepherd as he leaned in. “You scored on the dad front, already scored with the mom. So double points” his words got a giggle out of the child that rose to his feet ditching the blanket and making his way to Daryl who knelt to be his level. But Shepherd stopped a second turning to Negan.

“Thanks Negan…”

“Anytime kid. Now go find your mom, before she flips Alexandria over just to find yea”

“He’s right on that. She will” Daryl smiles warmly and the warmth grew in his chest when Shepherd wrapped his arms around him making the archer instinctively pick him up. “…thanks” he tells Negan receiving a thumbs up from the guy before heading out with his son.

As the two made their way toward the running worried filled mother that came their way. Y/N started sobbing on sight instantly taking Shepherd into her embrace giving Daryl a thankful look.

“I’m sorry mama”

“No baby it’s okay…you just scared me a little” Y/N cries holding him close as Shep pushes back a bit so that he could wipe away her tears. “You care too much about me, baby”

“I wanna, mama” Shepherd gave a small smile when she kissed his cheek. “Can we go home?”

“Yes, yes we can…we can go home and hang out. Just you and me”

“And dad” Shepherd pointed to Daryl as that was the first time he referred to the archer as such that he tried to compose himself even if Y/N didn’t he bother trying to compose herself.

“Yeah” Y/N smiles through the tears extending her free hand, holding Shep up with her other arm, feeling Daryl instantly take it into his.

And dad.

[sapphicseasapphire]

More child of mountains 🥺

More Cryptid Wild??? I will happily oblige.

I’ve already shared quite a bit about him! But here’s some things that I may have left out:

Wild is not as sensitive to changes in temperate has he is in canon. Since he’s a spirit made mostly of light, it takes a lot for him to feel cold or hot. He hangs out in hot springs because then he can actually feel something, and he can be found in Hebra just vibing in the snow for the same reason.

While it’s rare, he does change his clothes from time to time. Mostly, he wears armor to assist him with stealth, since he’s pretty terrible at it on his own. When he walks, it jingles like little bells. Like a Blupee! (This absolutely freaks Sky out, as he has Silent Realm trauma). The first time he ever changed out of his ruined Champion’s Tunic was to infiltrate the Yiga Clan Hideout. He wore the Sheikah set to be quieter and stole the Thunder Helm for the Gerudo without any consequence.

(He may also wear clothes to cover his glowing skin if needed. But in his own era, he doesn’t hang out in villages enough to need that. He’s rarely seen. And if anyone does see him, they know better than to approach. And in any other era, he relies on Hyrule’s glamour to hide him).

SPEAKING OF THE YIGA. This is not really Wild lore, but it’s IMPORTANT. The Yiga are not smart enough to connect the dots. They have no idea that the Child of the Mountains is the very same fallen hero that they’re out to kill. When Wild stole the Thunder Helm, they assumed that it was just one of Hylia’s pesky little spirits messing with them (which is pretty much the truth, to be fair). They fully 100% believe that the Hylian Champion Link is dead and has been for the past century (which is, again, true). Because of this, they are on the lookout for the new hero. They believe that since Link died a century ago and they’re still working to bring Ganon back, a new hero will be born to stop them. Their plan is to kill the new Link before he can pose a threat.

Even though the hero still exists. They’re… a little dumb, I guess, but they’re not technically wrong.

Cryptid Wild is family with every single spirit in the game. Koroks? Little siblings. Blupees? Little siblings. The Great Deku Tree is a father figure to him and the Lord of the Mountain is very close to him. The dragons are a little scatterbrained but he likes to hang out with them anyway. And Fairies! They may not be spirits, but they’re just little balls of spiritual magic and so Wild makes an effort to know every single one of them. He loves them.

He uses any/all pronouns. (More like he doesn’t have pronouns. Not a single one. He’s never heard of them before. I mostly use he/him for Wild since the Hyruleans of his era will typically use those pronouns in their stories but you must know that Wild legitimately does not care). He’s also aro/ace but he needs companionship. Poor lil guy can’t stand being alone, and while human presence overwhelms him sometimes, he’s super friendly around spirits. Any spirit. Looking at you, Wars.

Alright that was very long but I hope this is what you were looking for haha!

[judasgot-it]

Can i request tired s/o that go straight to tecchou’s lap to sleep

AHH This might be short but I love him sm <3

Scenario: Falling asleep on Tecchou after work, just some good fluff really. (What's the difference between a drabble and a scenario? Lol?)

Your eyes hurt the longer you kept them open.

Today's mission was technically yesterday's as well - you had stayed up for over 24 hours to complete this one, traveling to an abandoned village just to find out that what you thought would be an easy day would be one of the worst battles of your career.

It left your enemies dead, and your team exhausted. Now you were sitting on a small bench, away from the destruction caused by the fight. You could still see the remnants of it - mostly the bodies and blood only your hands.

But after spending all of that time fighting, you found yourself utterly exhausted. Even soldiers needed to sleep sometimes.

You heard a weight settle next to you. Tecchou's mop of hair tickled you, loose strands flying toward you.

"Hey."

Tecchou nodded. He didn't say anything, closing his eyes and leaning back. He was enjoying the quiet it seemed.

"You lost your hat."

"Yea."

He blinked at you.

"You look tired."

"No shit sherlock."

He smiled at that. A small, tired one. You felt yourself relax a little at that, easing some of the tension at you didn't even know you had in your shoulders. You didn't even know when help would arrive, so maybe you could sleep.

You went to lay down, using Tecchou's thighs as a pillow. You could smell the grass on his uniform from his fight, but you didn't really feel bothered by it. It was a rather comfy pillow in the moment.

A thick fabric fell around your shoulders, and you reached for it as you felt Tecchou's fingers card through your knotted hair. He was gentle, more petting you to avoid pulling at the strands.

"Thanks. I'll keep it safe."

You pulled it closer, avoiding a small tear you felt in it as you curled up into a ball on the small bench. Your shoes hung off awkwardly on the bench due to your boots, but you didn't really care - this was practically heaven.

You felt Tecchou adjust himself under you, getting comfortable as he adjusted your makeshift blanket. The chain jingled a little, but as you drifted off, all you really felt was Tecchou's warmth all around you. It made you smile a little, despite the overwhelming exhausting.

[sgtsmilies]

Cave Story Is Not a Metroidvania

I've hit my breaking point. After years of bumping into references to Cave Story, the 2006 indie darling classic as a Metroidvania, I feel the need to set the record straight, if only for my own mental well-being. Please, when I play an indie platformer on Steam with the Metroidvania tag I need to know whether it's lying to me or not. I'm Smilies, and today I will be talking about this stupid subgenre that I love.

In August 6, 1986, the world was changed forever. Metroid was released for the Famicon Disk System in Japan. A charming little game, you control an android(?) named Samus Aran in a 2d-platformer environment, flipping around and shooting little monsters, and the titular Metroids.

In a space that would become filled with 2d platformers, including Ninja Gaiden, Mega Man, Shatterhand (look it up), and Castlevania, which had come out just prior, Metroid would define itself by its interesting exploration mechanics, in contrast to the level-based structures held by most other games at the time.

In Metroid, you explore an open-ended world with road blocks, while obtaining major upgrades such as the Morph Ball to explore small crawlspaces, bombs to destroy tiles, and so on. Essentially, as you grow in power, the world opens up and provides more to explore. Each player has a unique experience finding items and exploring areas in an order unique to them. I'm weaving a narrative here and those of you with more history knowledge than me will probably be able to find reasonable earlier examples that could be described as a Metroidvania. But, hey, Metroid is literally in the name, so I'm gonna start there.

The name itself, [Metroid][Vania] is commonly believed to have come from a portmanteau of Metroid's sequel, Super Metroid for the Super Famicom/Nintendo, and Castlevania: Symphony of the Night, for the Playstation. Both maintain this structure: collecting power ups grants access to new areas, which you find via exploration. In general, in my opinion, you'll find games that follow the Castlevania mold more than the Metroid one: while Metroid's progression blockers can be somewhat contrived (for example: green doors only opening for Power Bombs, or blocks that only break if you destroy them with particular power-ups) Castlevania's are generally diagetic (for example: the Mist Form power up granting you the ability to move through steel grates). Castlevania-inspired Metroidvanias include indie games such as Timespinner and Hollow Knight, while the most notable Metroid-inspired Metroidvania I can think of would be Axiom Verge. Obviously, this is a generalization, but it is the general trend I observed.

Now that we've gone over all that, let's talk about Cave Story. Cave Story follows the, uh… story of a little android guy who wakes up in a cave, collects weapons, power-ups and upgrades (including health upgrades which look remarkably like Samus', and even play a similar jingle!), and explores seemingly open-ended areas which are occasionally connected to one another. It's also got a map viewer for areas you're in to help with exploration.

"Smilies, you dumb cretin!" you might be saying, "That sounds a lot like a Metroidvania!" but let me finish!! The important thing here is Cave Story's level structure. You start the game in the First Cave, a small linear section to acquaint you with the controls and acquire a weapon. You then take a teleporter to the Egg Corridor, then the Bushlands, then the Sand Zone. At the end of the Sand Zone, you are sent against your will to the Labyrinth, which leads directly to the Core. After destroying the core, you get access to the Living Waterway. After returning to Mimiga Village through the Waterway, you head through Egg Corridor again, which has been devastated, before reaching the Outer Wall, then the Plantation, then the Last Cave, then the Balcony, then (should you have unlocked it) the Sacred Grounds where you can defeat the final boss and beat the game.

That's right, Cave Story is completely linear. It's a game in which the areas you explore are winding and fit together to form a mostly-contiguous structure of a sort, but the order in which you explore them is set in stone and experienced the same by every player barring different endings ending the game earlier than others. You even frequently warp directly to levels without having to navigate to them first.

At the same time, Cave Story can feel like a Metroidvania. As previously mentioned, the health upgrades are deliberately evocative of Metroid's. It even has a missile weapon that you can upgrade the capacity for! But it's not a Metroidvania, it can't be. The missiles are optional, they don't blow anything up other than enemies, they don't break walls, etc. Honestly, there's only really two actual upgrade to your capabilities beyond getting more devastating ways to kill your foes. The Air Tank lets you breathe under water, and the Booster provides air mobility. That being said, neither really unlock any new areas, beyond completely optional upgrades. The air mechanic is rarely utilized before the Living Waterway, and you obtain the Air Tank immediately prior to that area. And the Last Cave is designed to be impossible without the Booster 2.0 (and has an easier version if you did not obtain it).

I call these games, ones that invoke Metroidvania aesthetics but don't really commit to their mechanics, Metroidvania-lites, in reference to the oft maligned Roguelite genre(?) but I'm not entering that minefield (yet).

To me, the mechanics that define a Metroidvania more than anything else is the collection of items and the exploration of areas in a non-defined order. While some may inherently be required to be explored before the others, there is no set order. It's also defined by how the game is not fully explorable at the start. You gain abilities, the abilities unlock areas, those areas unlock new abilities, and so on. I'm actually pretty ambivalent to the games being 2d platformers. I think that Metroid Prime (the first one, at least, I dunno about the rest) is a Metroidvania despite being a first-person shooter. I also think that you could easily make the argument for both of the NES Zelda games, which might be a controversial take! Either way, it doesn't really matter where you stretch it to as long as it hits the right notes, and Cave Story most certainly does not.

Disclaimer: I love both Cave Story AND Metroidvanias. Cave Story not being a Metroidvania is not a problem with it per se. I just think they're both different things that I like separately.

[mayhemscorner]

Bells and Black Feathers

Itachi x f!reader

Slowburn. Itachi. OG Naruto setting. I really wanted my first Itachi fanfic to be longer since I’ve never written for him before and I usually only do quick stories. Please enjoy. Also, I apologize for the trauma and angst. But if this receives good feedback, I may make this in to a series 🫢

Bells. Bells were known in our clan as the harbingers of incoming change. We used them during clan ceremonies. Weddings, funerals, even birthdays. I was so sick of hearing bells. It was as if the drone of a metal ball racking around a hollow shell followed me wherever I went, even in to the village. Even worse, our clans genjutsu was hearing based, and you guessed it, we used bells. I almost thought I was crazy when I heard the telltale jingle faintly from beside me. I couldn’t help but check my pockets frantically to make sure mine were properly put away to not send anyone near by in to an accidental genjutsu. It was as if I’d gone crazy, hearing the chirp of a tiny bell pass beside me once again as I bump in to it,” my apologies.”

Bells don’t talk, and they definitely don’t have handsome features like the dark orbs that barely even spare a glance my way as they help me up from the beaten path on my way to the gates. 

“No, I wasn’t looking. It’s my bad, your bell made me think I was about to endanger everyone here.” I ramble on, completely awestruck at the cloaked man in front of me. Looking down, I can only hold my gasp at the sight of the all knowing red clouds. As a Jonin, we’re trained to watch for and decipher these cloaks to pinpoint the Akatsuki. But why would they be rash enough to lurk on the edge of the village out in the country? 

“Nonsense, I believe we both had our eyes on something that distracted us. As it is, I must be on my way.” He replies, not letting even one emotion bubble to the surface as his face stays as still as stone.

“Hey, what’s your name?” I ask, knowing it didn’t matter, he was a threat regardless. But the longer I could keep him here, the quicker I could subdue him.

“I believe that’s best saved for our next encounter. Farewell.” He’s already disappeared as his last word rings through my ears. It takes a second to shake the eerie feeling creeping up my back, but once composure is regained, I’m already breaking in to a dead sprint.

“Asuma! Hey! Asuma, damnit where are you?” I’m calling out to him before even hitting our usual meeting spot for missions, only to be answered with the wind. The only other shinobi with worse timing than Asuma was the only one to show up, lazily sauntering to our spot,” yell any louder and he might just hear you on the other side of the village, Y/N.”

“Listen, we’re being watched. What I’m about to tell you… you have to believe me.” I begin, gripping his shoulder so I can lean in and whisper,” the Akatsuki, they’re in the village.”

“Okay, I know we’re both well versed in pranking but this is a new level. Even for you.” Kakashi sighs, yanking at his ear lobe in mock pain. No, not mock pain… it was the signal that someone was possibly listening to our conversation. I had almost forgotten about it since we never had to resort to it, not for years anyways. It was a trick we would use in our younger years to signal when Asuma or Guy would attempt to listen to our private gossip sessions. 

“Anyways, if you’re done fooling around, I’m going to find where Asuma has wandered off to., you stay here just in case Guy shows up early.” He sighs, the only signal that shows he knows exactly where they’re at is his eyes darting to the right in the direction of the river. 

“Guy can figure out where we are, I’m coming with you.” I mutter, kicking at the dirt road and tailing directly on his heels. Kakashi spares a glance back, pointing to his eye and shaking his head no before covering it with his hand. I’m assuming it means don’t look, but my eyes wander anyways. I was good at taking in the scenery and doing the opposite of what I was told since I had the means to get myself out of trouble. What I wasn’t expecting to see was Asuma and Kurenai working as a team, yet still struggling against the man who had bumped in to me earlier and a new companion. Kurenai was in the river, looking winded as Kakashi, steps in front of me to block my vision, reaching down to grip my vest,” go find Guy. That’s an order.”

Kakashi stares unyieldingly until I relent, sprinting to the village. 

I heave deeply, resting against the side of a vendors stand when I see the familiar and vibrant neon orange leg warmers parading in the air as Guy walks on his hands. 

“H-hey! Guy! Come take a stroll with me real quick.” I huff out as quickly as I can between breaths, snapping one of his leg warmers to get his attention. 

“Y/N! I was just on my way to the gates to meet up with the team, what’s the hurry all of a sudden? Finally accepting my offer of a romantic stroll? This mission can wait for the sake of love if it must!” Guy sputters out, clambering back to the way a normal human stands. I can’t help but roll my eyes,” sure, yeah. Let’s move it. We got places to be Guy.”

He follows against my tight grip as I lead him to the river, quickly losing my patience as he mutters on. 

We finally reach the area once again, seeing not much has happened other than Kakashi looked to be wounded… internally? Maybe winded?

“The river? The perfect place for- Kakashi! No one messes with my rival except me!” Guy gasps out, quickly disappearing from my side. He lands between the two sides, splashing the water as everyone stays at a standstill. After a brief moment of communication, the two Akatsuki vanish, leaving the others to tend to Kakashi. I run across the water, quickly reaching for Kakashi with my medical abilities only to be stopped by Asuma,” he needs to go to the hospital, don’t even waste your chakra. Notify… someone.”

“Who, Asuma? There’s no time to waste, if I’m not needed here, I’m going after them!” I shout, already taking off for the treeline. 

“Y/N, get back to the village. You’ll be in worse trouble if you pursue them.” Guy calls out, quickly catching up. I can’t help but laugh,” with what hokage, Guy? We have the chance to take them out now. So let’s move it! There’s not currently a hokage to give us orders and I’m not going to sit around and wait.”

“Y/N, stop. You aren’t even thinking. His genjutsu is unbreakable.” Guy shouts, finally outrunning me to stop me in my tracks. I bluff my defeat, silently reaching for the bells at my side,” I’m sorry, Guy. I can’t let them get away.”

The bells twirl delicately around the metal rod they were strung to carefully by a clan elder the day I was born, twisting around to create a melodious genjutsu even Guy was too slow to release from. Normally, he had warning and could break it in time. But the look of betrayal as he’s frozen in to place, sends a pang through my chest,” I’ll show you the life you wish to have.”

Having to state my intentions of a genjutsu was a downfall, and I cringe at the thought of Guy’s ideal life. But I can only move forward to give myself enough distance with the bells, as once I’m out of earshot, the genjutsu may be broken within moments. 

After what felt like miles, I drop the bells back down, taking a brief second to slow down and catch my breath. The sky unrelentingly fades to grey as thunder rolls in,” because why wouldn’t it rain?”

I curse to myself, knowing the seconds before rain were precious in the effort to find any sign of tracks. I drop down to a single footprint that stops in the middle of a clearing, looking around frantically to find another. As my head whips back to the tree I was just in, a bell sounds just beside my ear. Ice fills my veins as I freeze in a slight terror.

“You’re alone.” The man from earlier breathes out. I force myself to focus my eyes to the ground and keep my cool,” yes.”

“That wasn’t a question but thanks for the clarification. You aren’t here to subdue me, you’re here for answers.” He continues, trailing a finger across my back as he circles around me, examining me almost before he continues,” you don’t know who I am, do you?”

“I don’t exactly keep my bingo book on me all the time, I just know you’re Akatsuki. It’s my job to train Genin now, not chase after criminals all the time.” I huff, refusing to look up as his finger prods at my jaw in an attempt to lift my gaze,” I’m not falling for your genjutsu.”

Regretfully, I still look up due to the persistent tug at my jaw, being met with the wondering dark orbs that I’d witnessed earlier. 

“If I wanted to place you under a genjutsu, I would’ve done so by now, Y/N.” He drops his hand, revealing the slightest smirk on his face. I confusingly take in his features as I try to figure out why they were so familiar before i land on the mutilated leaf headband that rested against his forehead, sweeping back his raven hair. 

“How do you know my name?” I mutter, reaching for the silver block on his headband to run my fingers along the slashed leaf in the middle. His hand is quick to grip mine,” you truly don’t remember do you?”

“Unfortunately, no.” I sigh, regretting that I was fully enamored with the handsome criminal in front of me. 

“We were Genin together. Itachi Uchiha.” He says coldly. The realization on how long it took myself to puzzle the pieces together hits like a ton of bricks. But I have no recollection of ever being in the same class, let alone knowing him.

I can only shake my head in response.

“If you can’t remember, let me show you.” Itachi sighs defeatedly, looking directly in to my eyes as his own bleed in to the notorious red sharingan. I prepare myself for a genjutsu, seeing as I find myself back in the classroom sitting at my desk. The day in question is hazy, but I still remember the doodle I was drawing. I also remember the pain I’m about to experience. As if on cue, my broken pencil I was trying so hard to continue to write with, slices my palm. I can’t control any movements, it’s a memory that can’t be altered. My tiny hand recoils in pain as younger me whimpers,” ah, dang it! I can’t bleed on this dress, my mom just got it for me.”

“Allow me.” The young boy beside me bubbles with a rising smile, quickly pulling a bandage roll from the backpack beside him,” my brother can be clumsy so I tend to carry extras just in case.”

“You callin’ me clumsy?” Young me accuses him sharply. I was always ‘abrasive’ as my sensei Shikaku regularly stated during our outings with Choza and Inoichi’s teams. 

“Not at all, do you always assume the worst so quickly?” The young version of Itachi questions back. My memory jogs and I can feel my current self mouth the same words I’m about to relive,” I can assume we’re going to be good friends if you’re brave enough to call me out on my crap.”

The scene fades to darkness, sitting at the end of the dock in the Uchiha compound with our feet dangling off the edge.

“Do it again!” A slightly older me shrieks in a fit of laughter as Itachi stands once again, sending a fire ball across the pond. 

“The simplest things surely entertain you. It’s amazing.” He chuckles, sitting back down as my body falls against the dock to look at the stars,” you amaze me, honestly.” 

I can still feel the heat against my cheeks at the confession I had made long ago. 

“Y/N?” He asks quietly.

“Yeah?” I question back.

“Even though we’re still young, do you ever get the feeling we’ll be together forever?” He questions sheepishly.

“We’ll always be friends, that’s not even a question. Don’t be so weird.” I laugh, reaching up to punch his shoulder.

“What if we’re destined to be more than friends?” Itachi continues with his questions, looking over to catch my pondering face,”… we’re still young. If it happens, it happens. We have plenty of years left to stay just how we are. Like you always say, it’s better to wait than spend the rest of your life regretting a rash decision.”

It flickers again, this time it’s my mother, uncontrollably sobbing at the kitchen table that woke me from a dead sleep due to the excitement of finally becoming a chunin,” mom, are you okay?”

I try to rub away the tiredness from my eyes as she shakes her head,” go back to bed, Y/N. It’s nothing you would understand at your age.” 

“Try me.” Twelve year old me crosses her arms as I watch my mothers sadness turn to anger,” you think because you’re a chunin now you can handle a tragedy in your own village? Well it’s time to grow up, kid. There was a massacre on the Uchiha compound. The whole clan is dead. Thanks to your little boyfriend, that Itachi kid. Stop putting your trust in others. Start becoming that ‘perfect’ shinobi you boast that you are Y/N. It won’t save our village, it won’t get those people their lives back. You will do so little, it won’t even matter by the time you’re my age, or even your death.”

She burst in to tears once again. Younger me couldn’t be upset at her, she was already upset with herself for having to end her career so early and our father leaving. I let her take that anger out on me, as long as it was never directed towards my sister and she never had to see it. 

“W-what’s wrong, Y/N?” I feel the small tug at my pajamas as my little sister clings tightly against my leg. I can only put a smile on my face as I lift her small frame,” moms sad because we aren’t getting the sleep we need, how about I tuck you back in to bed?” 

I still feel the pain in my eye sockets from crying throughout the rest of that night. Betrayal from my own mother and someone else I thought I’d loved. 

The genjutsu fades once again, unknown scenery flourishes around me. I look down to see I now bear the Akatsuki robe. I look forward to the faceless crowd that slowly comes in to focus, fingers pointing as they all unanimously mumble the word,” traitor.”

It becomes louder as the people begin encircling me, cornering me off like an injured animal on display. Several faces become distinct, my mother, my sister, Shikaku sensei and his friends, even the hokage that had just given his life for the village. As several kunai impale me, the genjutsu turns to red as the pain sets in.

I soon feel the gracious drops of rain replacing the stabbing ghost pains, quickly becoming a downpour, the genjutsu fades completely. I now realize why Kakashi had been so drained earlier, if it wasn’t for the ice cold adrenaline, I would’ve been passed out already.

“As you can see, we’ve met before. We were only mindless children then, cloaked by masks to hide our true identity.” He drops to a solemn tone, tilting his head upwards to bask in the quickly chilling rain before his red eyes flash back to me,” no matter how similar our paths are, our fates deserve to end differently. if you choose this life, it’s only the same. But you risk having your identity known nationwide and your idealistic life thrown away. Do you choose to face death everyday? Do you choose to betray a village you call home?” 

In the time it takes me to blink, he’s now mere inches from my face, hand outstretched,” if you can say yes, your heart is in the wrong place. Turn around and go back to the leaf. Do not pursue me any further, Y/N.”

Two of his fingers ghost over my brows for just a second, I can barely notice the thoughts running behind his tired eyes, but the slight flick of his view to the left gives him away. He decides to retract his fingers, and drapes his other hand to rest over the top of my head while I drop to my knees. My Jonin vest feels heavy with rain, maybe even regret that i didn’t even remember one of my closest friends as a child, maybe even my first love, but most of all the one who made it seem I wasn’t capable of loving anyone else. 

“How could I not remember anything you just showed me?” I babble, looking up to his now normal eyes as tears bubble at my lashes, only to be concealed by the rain. 

“Because It was a burden I relieved you of. You should be thankful.” He answers coolly, refusing either of us the blessing of breaking eye contact. I flick a collection of tears and water angrily from my face,” younger me was in love with you. We loved each other. You can’t deny that.”

His eyes trickle down to the hand fidgeting with the metal rod at my side, his face illuminating against a streak of lightning,” You’re a fool to think an auditory genjutsu would even begin to work on me.”

“No, but metal rods are great conductors of electricity.” I seethe, reaching my musical rod above me to the sky as I grip his arm that still rested atop my head. It was a weak last ditch effort, i couldn’t subdue him, but I could at least kill us both. As quickly as the white steak shoots down towards us, we’re transported further in to the forest. My hand is slightly burnt, but I find myself furled tightly in Itachi’s arms, back to his chest as his cloak billows around us in the increasing winds. I chuckle slightly,” so, you do still care about me.”

“Nonsense, I just prevented you from unnecessarily ending both of our lives.” Itachi utters out, clearing his throat.

“Bullshit. You could’ve let me fry in that lightning strike and saved yourself, easily.” I assert my dominance, twisting in his arms to face him as he refuses to let go. He looks down, smirking as he smoothes away a few strands of hair that cling to my face,” if I could love as easily as I fought against others, you would’ve been mine the day I bandaged your adolescent hand. This however, is not a life for love. My destiny is to die and I refuse for you to have any part of it.”

“Then just give me this moment.” I exhale, bringing a hand to rest on the side of his face,” I’ve just learned about you all over again and I refuse to let you leave without a word just like when we were kids.”

“You seen what I did to my clan.” He reminds me quietly.

“And for some reason, I feel like your hand was forced in to doing it. The Itachi I just witnessed loved his clan. He loved the leaf village. He defended the village he betrayed.” I share my quick observation. 

“This conversation is over.” Itachi warns, squinting his eyes in remorse and possibly a hint of anger. I just knew I was right. And if I’m able to return to the village, I’ll have some research to do. 

“If you don’t want to talk about it, then you’ll have to find a damn good way to shut me up, because I have a lot of questions.” I shoot back, anxiety of not knowing the story creeps against my body. And just as I’m about to start my rampage of questions, his lips crash against mine and his hands grip tightly at my shoulders, letting the cool rain water dripping from us both clash together, pooling down to our chins before it drips against the cloak that weakly offers us the tiniest bit of shelter. As he pulls away, his eyes flutter slowly, taking in my look of confusion. Sadly for him, it’s only created more questions, but most of all it also created answers.

“You still love our village. You still love me.” I gasp out looking at the furrow in his angering brows,” and to continue in protecting the things I love, you must not interfere or prod any further. Return to the village before you end up in the same position. This is my last warning, Y/N. Or this will end badly for the both of us.”

He pushes me against my shoulders, sending my body head first to the ground frozen, in a state of shock as the world melds to a red haze. Just as I hit the ground, an inky black feather drops on my face, restarting the chain of events over again. And again. And again. Each time I fall, the feather drops, I smack in to the ground and Itachi’s face melds against my vision as the sequence drones on for what feels like hours,” do you wish to be stuck in a loop of constant suffering? Living out your days where every last one is the same, ending with an unbearable pain… just to realize it’ll happen again. And again. And again. This is the constant pain you will feel outside of the village as a rogue. You don’t understand that by pressing further on this matter, by seeking me purposefully after this point, my only choice would regretfully be having to kill you.”

A scream tears at my throat, only to be cut off from hitting the ground again, and after what felt like a whole day stuck in the same loop, I find myself on the ground mere seconds from passing out once again. I look up to see Itachi’s face hovering above mine and feel his knees supporting my head. He swiftly brushes a rain soaked strand of hair from my face and leans in for one last breathy statement,” I truly hope one day you’ll be strong enough to understand. When that day comes, I will be long gone but I will never ask for your forgiveness.”

As my eyes shut, he scoops down for one last kiss and disappears with the sound of a ghost. Silence ushers a single black feather to land against my cheek, allowing me to finally give in to the depleted chakra ebbing towards unconsciousness. 

Bells. The pain of having to hear those stupid bells. A single chirp awakens me in a startle, grasping at the sterile white blanket around me as I gasp in the stale air. 

“Hey, lay down damnit. You’ve gone and gotten yourself in to enough trouble already, Y/N.” Shikaku sensei grumbles from the bedside, slamming me backwards as gently as possible as he sets my bell staff against the table.

“Why are you here sensei? Don’t you have more important village duties to attend to?” I mumble out, finally relaxing enough to stare at the ceiling.

He groans, pondering what he’ll say next,” with a lack of Jonin from the recent attack, Asuma rang in a favor to help track you so they could get Kakashi Hatake to immediate medical attention. We first found Guy almost six miles from you, stuck in a genjutsu. Wonder who would be rash enough to do that...”

“How’s Kakashi?” I ask, refusing to meet what I assume is his drained and less than pleased face.

“He’ll be in medical care for a while. Same goes for you. You’re almost worse off than him. With how much you two get in to trouble, I’m starting to wonder if you’re related. Anything else you want to ask, kid?” He questions, most likely already knowing the answer. I turn to look in to his unimpressed eyes,” I should ask you that first.”

He finally smirks,” we’ll keep this conversation between us so long as I don’t have to pry it out of you.”

I could always appreciate the fatherly bond Shikaku established since my early chunin days, realizing my own mother could barely provide the support or parental love for my sister and I. Shikamaru had even called me big sister begrudgingly. Shikaku finally parts his lips after thinking on it,” why did you put Guy under a genjutsu?”

So he knew it was my genjutsu after all.

“His taijitsu was too weak against our target. We were tailing the man that left Kakashi in the state he’s in now. I only did it to protect him.” I answer truthfully. It was best to avoid seeing Guy hurt, even if I feel no romantic attraction to all of his… not too subtle advancements. 

“So you proceeded to pursue someone as a one person unit you knew you wouldn’t win against? How smart. It’s a miracle you made it back with just depleted chakra and a burnt hand. It’s almost as if the target took pity on you.” He ponders, slowly moving his eyes back to meet mine in confirmed and definite disappointment.

“I was just able to use my staff as a lightning conductor to buy myself some time before being placed under a genjutsu. No one was hurt. That’s all that matters.” I huff out, turning my body completely away in anger before Shikaku sounds off my bells again in contemplation,” a genjutsu user falling for another genjutsu is unlikely, unless this genjutsu came from the power of the sharingan. I also trained my students to not pursue dangerous opponents with those kind of powers. But I know I trained my students better than that, right Y/N?” 

“Are you just here to lecture me, or are you looking for answers?” I sneer out, slowly becoming agitated at his sensei personality taking over his fatherly one.

“Both. Just as I and my jutsu are useles in utter darkness, yours is useless when you don’t use your mind to think properly. I think we can silently agree you won’t try and pursue Itachi anymore and you’ll stay here until you’re fully healed. Then we will go through some training. You, me and Shikamaru. Just like old times.” Shikaku chuckles out, revealing that without even telling him, he already knew. I toss my pillow at him in an attempt to stop his laughing,” does this mean you’re old self is coming out of retirement as a sensei?”

“Don’t throw the word old out so loosely. I’m only returning as your sensei because I think your own mind is dulling with age.” He smirks, returning to his fatherly demeanor, but I could still see the subtle look of worry behind the joking facade. I refused to notify him of my actual encounter with Itachi, but he leads me to believe he knew of our past and it’s easy for a Nara to put two and two together.

“Yeah, yeah. Now get out so I can rest up and show you I’m just fine without a sensei.” I laugh out as he shakes his head,” prove me wrong, Y/N. I’m not bailing you out of any future mistakes.”

“I’m counting on that.”

With a final word, he kicks a resting foot off the wall and throws his hands in to his pocket to stroll out the open door nonchalantly. I needed rest, and I was told not to press any further. But I had research to do, even if it was from a hospital bed. I was going to get to the bottom of this, even if my destiny entwines to meet the same bitter end as Itachi presumes his will be.

[magenta-racer]

Commission Art - Snowy Radish

Ayeeee artwork done by my friend, AnaLee94, who just opened commissions! So glad I could finally order a drawing from her, she's a great artist. 🥰

Raditz sharing a tender moment with Suno in Jingle Village. Their relationship is ambiguous at first, Suno first meets him wounded at the woods near her village, when she goes out to hunt, and Raditz only sees her as an inferior being to toy with. He tries teasing, messing with and tempting her, then gets amused as she dodges his advances and refuses him, though she starts getting attracted to him. The game of cat and mouse backfired on him, however, because he grew attached to her. Reazling this, Raditz fled her village without telling her, then decides to gather the Dragon Balls in order to get a wish to get back at Vegeta and Nappa for abandoning him.

It backfires again because he got defeated by Piccolo. Once again, he was back at Suno's place, the only one who he trusted to nurse him back to health, while still struggling to understand and accept his feelings for a human, specially after all the losses he suffered in his life. Sadly, Raditz only accepts his feelings when it's too late: Vegeta and Nappa arrive on Earth, and upset by Raditz's failure at gathering the magical orbs, they kill Suno as a punishment. This made something inside Raditz completely break, he was hellbent on getting his revenge from then on.

Suno gets brought back by Porunga after Frieza Saga, thankfully, but that doesn't ease Raditz's vendetta. Despite having her back and opening up about his feelings for her, Raditz is still determined to make Vegeta pay for everything he took away from him. Suno becomes his balance, and he's deeply grateful for having her in his life, Raditz would have likely lost himself completely if it weren't for her. She gets greatly frustrated and disappointed by his screw ups, though can't bring herself to hate him, even though it could be warranted sometimes. The things she puts up with for the man she loves. 😂

That's the summary of how their relationship came to be. 🤭 My AU is based on this fanfic, Dragon Ball Z: The Catalyst, which is totally worth checking out! :D

(Also, it's funny how Raditz's outfit reminds me of Chris Redfield in Resident Evil 8. 👀)

Art © AnaLee94.

Raditz and Suno are from Dragon Ball franchise © Akira Toriyama/Toei Animation.

[alexandralyman]

New Fic: Not Another Hallmark Movie

Hi Everyone! Coming off my long fic hiatus with a Captain Swan holiday story. I hope everyone has a very safe and happy Christmas after everything that’s happened in the past few years.

                                  Not Another Hallmark Movie

The little fishing village of Storybrooke Maine was just like those quirky small towns you'd see in one of the Hallmark Channel's never-ending lineup of Christmas movies, so it was no surprise when it was chosen as the filming location for one of them to the delight of everyone in town.

Almost everyone.

Deputy Sheriff Emma Swan was less than thrilled to have Christmas come early in the form of a cast and crew that it was her responsibility to wrangle all over town, the prickly Scottish location manager Merida, seven surly Teamsters, the pretentious assistant director Arthur, and the two leads, former teen star Christina Bell and her love interest, up and coming English actor Killian Jones.

Well, maybe Killian wasn't so bad.

With Storybrooke fully decked out for the holidays several months early, a star-struck son, a totally not jealous brother, and Christmas music blasting everywhere she went, all Emma wanted was for the movie to finish and life in town to go back to normal.

(though a bit of flirting with the handsome lead actor certainly helped to fill the time until then)

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“Merry Christmas!”

Emma gave a nonplussed stare to the teenage barista on the other side of the counter, who was holding out the coffee she’d ordered in a festive red and green paper up instead of the normal white one.

“Seriously?” she replied, one eyebrow raised.

The barista gave a cheery smile that it was far, far, too early for.

“We’re getting into the spirit! We should be getting a delivery later today with gingerbread syrup and pumpkin spice to make holiday lattes.”

“Great,” Emma muttered, taking the coffee and taking in the silver and gold tinsel strung up along the menu boards and the snowman cookies in the pastry case that she hadn’t noticed at uncaffeinated first glance. When she went outside the Storybrooke Bean & Brew it was more of the same, wreaths on doors, snowflake decorations in the storefronts, lights and bells and it was clear the whole damn town had gone completely Christmas crazy practically overnight. Which would be fine...if it was December, or even November.

It wasn’t.

It was August.

August, the middle of summer, when the chalkboard sidewalk sign in front of the Bean & Brew should have a sun and a beach umbrella drawn on it to advertise iced coffee, not a candy cane stuck in a mug of hot chocolate. The temperature was supposed to hit the high eighties today, for fuck’s sake.

No, Storybrooke hadn’t succumbed to the phenomenon known as “Christmas creep” when stores put out their holiday merch earlier and earlier each year so that artificial trees were on sale next to barbecues and gingerbread men shared shelves with Halloween candy. The little heritage town in Maine that looked like it had been designed by Currier & Ives themselves had been chosen by the Hallmark channel as the filming location for one of their insipid Christmas movies, where toothy, pretty people met, fell in love, and had their happy ending in an hour and a half against a picture perfect backdrop of evergreen trees and twinkling lights. A Holiday Romance, Jingle Bell Ball, New Love for Noel, Tis the Season, they aired them non-stop over the holidays and Emma never really gave much thought to where all those movies actually came from, until a fleet of trucks full of expensive-looking equipment had arrived a week ago.

They’d transformed Main Street into a faux winter wonderland within hours of unloading, and it seemed the townspeople were just as eager to get into character as well. Granny’s Diner was serving a turkey dinner special with stuffing and cranberry sauce, the local radio station had switched over from their usual playlist of songs that had been hits sometime in the 80s to nothing but Christmas music 24/7, and the coffee shop closest to the sheriff’s station was apparently now serving Emma’s morning caffeine fix in the cups printed with holly and ivy they normally didn’t pull out until it was closer to Thanksgiving than the Fourth of July.

It. Was. August.

And on top of having to listen to Bing Crosby dreaming of a white Christmas or Josh Groban calling to all ye faithful every time she got into her cruiser, Emma, in her capacity as Storybrooke’s deputy sheriff, had been tasked by the mayor herself, Regina Mills, to be the official town liaison to the movie people. Madame Mayor was adamant that they feel as welcome as possible, hoping to market Storybrooke as a filming locale to any Hollywood production that wanted small town charm and little red tape. All the permits they applied for had been approved without question, so Emma spent her days dealing with road closures and directing traffic around the sets, working long hours with the location manager, a no nonsense Scot named Merida, or with the assistant director, a jackass named Arthur who clearly viewed Storybrooke as nothing more than a backwater hick town that was stuck in time.

Which it was, but still. Rude.

As unenthused as Emma was having to deal with a woman whose accent she barely understood at times and a wannabe Martin Scorsese, her son Henry was just as excited about the movie coming to town. While not exactly in the Hallmark channel’s target demographic, Henry loved Christmas, loved movies, and loved the chance to actually see one being filmed in his own backyard. The fact that it was a cheesy TV movie aimed at women aged twenty-five to forty who drank wine and dreamed of their own hunky yet tender lumberjack love interest and not ten year old boys who were obsessed with Marvel and Star Wars didn’t matter, Henry had proclaimed to anyone who’d listen that it was the best thing to happen to Storybrooke in the history of ever. Since the last major event that Storybrooke had seen was a bad storm that washed a full container of live lobsters off one of the ships down at the docks and scattered them halfway to the town line, he did have a point.

Storybrooke was a fishing village in Maine. There were a lot of lobsters in that container.

A lot.

Emma had listened with half an ear while Henry spouted off every bit of information he could find online about A Midnight Clear, the title of the movie, scouring IMDB, Wikipedia, and the Hallmark channel’s social media accounts. Since Emma didn’t let him have his own Twitter or Instagram account yet, he’d followed anything remotely relevant from hers so he could keep tabs on them all. He was even more excited when he discovered the male lead in the movie was British actor Killian Jones. While he wasn’t exactly world-famous, with one of those fancy BBC costume dramas and some London theater work under his belt, Jones had guest-starred in a two-part episode of Doctor Who, making him, in Henry’s opinion, hands down the coolest person to have ever set foot in Storybrooke. An opinion he freely shared with everyone from Granny Lucas during lunch at the diner to the mailman when he dropped off the water bill.

David was visibly annoyed by it, which amused both Emma and his wife Mary Margaret to no end.

“I’m cool,” he’d protested, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair with a pout.

“Yes dear,” Mary Margaret deadpanned, patting him on the shoulder.

“I taught Henry how to ride a horse. Could Killian Jones do that?”

“I dunno, maybe,” Emma said with a shrug. “He’s English, isn’t riding a big thing there? Besides, he’s been inside the TARDIS, and sorry David, but that’s pretty hard for any of us to top.”

David threw his hands in the air. “It’s a TV show! The TARDIS is a prop, it’s not like the guy has actually been to space or traveled in time.”

Henry had come back in from the yard with dog and immediately started in again on the movie and how cool it was that someone like Killian Jones was visiting their town, brightly asking, “isn’t it the coolest thing ever, Uncle David?” and making David grumble to himself all through Sunday dinner while Emma and Mary Margaret trader knowing looks across the table at his sulking and Henry’s obliviousness to it. Emma and Henry had moved to Storybrooke because of David, her adoptive brother, and lived with him and Mary Margaret and their golden retriever Fandral on their farm at first until Emma got them their own place. Small town life had been a huge adjustment, at least for Emma. Henry had the ability to fit in wherever he went.

Big city girl with a cute, precocious kid moves to a picturesque small town and falls in love with a rugged lumberjack who looks like he stepped out of a paper towel commercial and proposes under the mistletoe before the credits rolled. Wasn’t that the plot of most of those made for TV Christmas movies? Although in Storybrooke it would probably be a lobster fisherman instead, and Emma’s life wasn’t a movie.

Plus, after the whole lobster incident, she really, really, didn’t want to see one ever again even if it was brought to her on a silver platter by Chris Evans in nothing but his Knives Out sweater.

Emma parked her Bug in the station lot after her stop at the Bean & Brew and went inside to both check in with Graham Humbert, town sheriff, and grab a bear claw from the ever present box of donuts he kept on his desk. More for the bear claw. Normally, she’d eat it at her own desk while going over the morning paperwork and seeing if there’d been any breaks in her one and only open case, the ongoing crank calls to Mr. Gold, pawnbroker and shoo-in favorite if Storybrooke ever needed to vote in an official town Scrooge. Not exactly something they needed to call in the FBI to consult on. But with the movie scheduled to spend all day filming at not one, but two different locations, Emma had to head out again immediately in one of the cruisers, so she brought the bear claw with her and slid behind the wheel, putting her coffee in the cupholder and turning the key in the ignition with one hand while she took a bite with the other.

Mariah Carey came blasting out of the stereo and Emma nearly choked, coughing and sputtering around her mouthful of pastry.

“Oh come on, it’s August,” she muttered, fumbling for the volume control. “Ugh!”

Once she got it down to a level that wouldn’t make her ears bleed, she pulled out and headed towards Storybrooke Town Hall. The trucks were already there when she arrived, cables snaking up and down the street and a sign with the name of the movie’s fictional town in place on the building’s facade. Several locals were watching eagerly from behind the barricades that Emma bypassed, badge on her hip and tossing back the last of her coffee as she went.

“How’s it going?”

She directed the question to Merida, whose cloud of red hair made her easy to find among the mostly male crew. The location manager had a clipboard in one hand, a walkie talkie in the other, a headset perched messily in her curls, and an expression that was the opposite of holly jolly.

“How’s it going? Well, I’ve got seven Teamsters who are all on their union mandated break at the same bloody time, the call sheet had the locations for today backwards so my two lead actors are currently at the wrong sets, which is absolutely grand, and to top it off the snow machine is on the fritz again so we’ve got no snow for our fecking Christmas movie. So that’s how it’s going.”

Emma understood about half of that, and it wasn’t just because Merida’s accent got as thick as oatmeal the more she talked. Henry was the movie expert, not her. Still, she made a sympathetic face, since it was clear things weren’t going particularly well.

“Bummer,” she offered, which made Merida let out a very Scottish sounding harrumph.

“You can say that again.”

The walkie talkie in her hand crackled to life in a burst of static and she started talking to whoever was on the other end.

“You got an ETA on Bell yet? Well, why not? I don’t care what the call sheet says, she’s supposed to be at the town hall, not the park!”

Emma assumed she was referring to the lead actress in the movie, Christina Bell. She’d met her briefly on the first day of filming, a tiny blonde pixie of a woman who Emma vaguely remembered from some soapy teen drama show that had been popular when Henry was a toddler. She hadn’t had much time for TV back then, and her own teenage drama was still too fresh for her to really be into the fictional kind, so she wasn’t nearly as starstruck as Mary Margaret and Ruby Lucas were when they came by to watch some of the shoot.

“Merida love, If you’d just give me the keys to one of the cars I can drive myself.”

“No,” Merida answered without looking up from her clipboard at the man who’d come over to join them. In contrast to the members of the crew in their jeans and black T-shirts, he was dressed in a three-piece suit that he had to be absolutely sweltering in, his dark hair was slicked back from his face and he had an accent that was tea and crumpets to Merida’s malt whiskey.

It was Killian Jones, the male lead and officially the coolest person to have ever set foot in Storybrooke. According to Henry, that is.

“But-“

“I said no, Jones. You’re not covered by the insurance and Arthur will have my arse in a sling if I let you. Or he’ll try to, at least, and I don’t fancy having to explain to the network exactly how their AD got a black eye. You just have to wait until Leroy finishes his break and then he’ll drive you over.”

Regina Mills had been adamant that Emma was to make everything as smooth as possible for the movie people, and if she’d learned one thing about Storybrooke, it was Regina’s town and the rest of them were just living in it. Normally it was beyond annoying, but, what Madame Mayor wanted, she would get in this case.

“I could drive you if it’s that urgent,” Emma offered. “Emma Swan, deputy sheriff. You’ll be safe with me.”

Both of them turned to look at her and she saw Killian’s blue eyes dart down to where she was oh so casually resting a hand next to her badge and then back up to her face.

“A police escort? Well, I suddenly feel very important,” he joked, with an easy smile that could only be described as movie-star handsome. Not that Emma planned on describing his smile to anyone. “Killian Jones, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Officer Swan. Oh, sorry, Deputy Sheriff Swan.”

“Emma is fine. Nice to meet you.”

She shook the hand he held out and smiled back. A few weeks ago she would have scoffed at the idea of playing chauffeur for some spoiled actor, she hadn’t gone back to college to get her criminal justice degree when Henry was old enough for kindergarten just to end up a glorified Uber, but the guy was cute and it beat standing around pretending to watch the crew fiddle with lights and cables in case Regina was in her office and decided to pop out and check that Emma was doing her civic duty.

“Brilliant,” Merida said, scribbling something on her clipboard. “He needs to be at the park, they’re filming at that bench we scouted last Wednesday. Thanks so much, Emma, you’re a lifesaver, in that you just saved Arthur’s life, since this was his cock-up and I was going to kill him.”

Emma knew the bench Merida was talking about, it was a favorite place of hers when she needed a quiet place to think. She nodded and pulled out her car keys, gesturing towards where she’d left the cruiser. “The Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department is always happy to assist. This way.”

Michael Buble informed them that it was beginning to look a lot like Christmas when she turned the key and the radio came to life again. Emma swore under her breath, the volume control was obviously broken.

“You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?”

He said it with an amused laugh and she felt her cheeks flush hotter than the eighty degree forecast. “Yeah, well, it’s the local station. We always keep the radio on them in case someone calls them instead of us, and they’ve been playing Christmas music in honor of you guys filming here even though it’s August.”

She glanced over at his not very seasonal attire and turned the air conditioning up, letting a rush of cold air wash over them both. At least that was working fine.

“You have a very charming little town here, Sheriff Swan. I grew up in a village by the sea like Storybrooke back in England before I moved to London, it reminds me of home.”

Emma had spent nearly an hour the other day listening to Arthur, assistant director and grade A asshole, bitch about the lack of a Starbucks and a decent place to get Thai food in Storybrooke when she’d had to work with him on the logistics of shutting down Main Street in the middle of the day so they could film a scene, as he oh so condescendingly put it, “before the light changes, Emma, you see, we have this thing in filmmaking called continuity.” At least Killian Jones had some freaking manners to go along with his good looks and sexy accent.

Nope. Don’t go there, Emma, don’t even think about it. Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars.

“Uh, thanks,” she mumbled. Lame, Emma.

The park wasn’t that far away, but she couldn’t take the fastest route thanks to the trucks blocking the streets around Town Hall and had to go the long way instead. With the volume turned down on the radio it was quiet in the car and she could sense him watching her from the passenger seat while she kept her eyes fixed firmly on the road. She was the deputy sheriff, she had to set a good example to visitors about safe driving habits.

Or something.

The long way involved driving past Henry’s school, it was closed for the summer, of course, since it was freaking August, but the message on the signboard out front had been changed from, “See You in September!” to “Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!” because of course someone had done that. Still, she smiled to herself at the reminder of her son. Henry went to day camp during the week with his friend Paige, coming home every night eager to hear everything that was going on with the movie shoot and Emma had definitely earned some cool points in Henry’s eyes for getting to work with the cast and crew. He was going to freak when she told him she’d finally met Killian Jones.

“Did you grow up here?”

It took Emma a second to realize Killian had asked her a question. “What? Oh, no, I didn’t, actually. We only moved to Storybrooke about two years ago.”

“Ah,” he said, voice seeming to go a bit flat. “Well, I can see why you and your husband decided to relocate. It’s lovely.”

She snorted, trying to imagine Neal in Storybrooke. He’d think it was ridiculous, twee and old-fashioned, and he’d probably also complain that there was no Starbucks or Thai food within an hour’s drive of the town.

Not for the first time, she wondered if part of the appeal of Storybrooke was just how much her ex would hate it.

“Nope, no husband. My son and I moved here from Boston, my brother David and his wife have a farm just outside of town. He heard about the job opening in the sheriff’s department and told me about it, and the rest is history.”

Her long overdue breakup with Neal had come on the heels of finally finishing her degree thanks to night school and loans she wouldn’t pay off before Henry went to college, after dropping out on the first go round when she’d had a baby at twenty. Emma knew their relationship only lasted as long as it did because of their son and even though they kept half-heartedly planning to get married, it never did happen. David also wasn’t her actual brother, his mother, Ruth Nolan, had been Emma’s final foster parent before she aged out of the system and the Nolans became the closest thing she had to family.

Not that she was going to share her entire life story with a complete stranger, of course. Even a handsome one with bright blue eyes the color of the ocean just beyond Storybrooke’s harbor.

“You have a son?” he asked, “How old is he?”

He was a good enough actor that he actually sounded interested, even though most guys noped right out of the conversation when they found out she had a kid.

“Henry’s ten, and according to him the movie is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to this town.” she said, and glanced over at him to add, “He’s also a huge Doctor Who fan, by the way.”

Killian’s whole face lit up at that, clearly pleased. “I’ve been a Doctor Who fan since I was ten, so getting that part was the most exciting thing that ever happened to me. You should bring Henry to the set next time, I’d be happy to give him a look at what goes on behind the scenes.”

“You would really do that?”

Emma realized with a start that they were parked and she was twisted in her seat to fully face him. When had they arrived at their destination and why hadn’t she noticed anything except the fact that, up close, Killian Jones had just about the bluest eyes she’d ever seen?

And not only that, he was looking right back at her.

“Of course I would.”

He said it like there was no question that he’d want to entertain an overly excited ten year old boy he didn’t know when he could be…practicing his lines or taking selfies for Instagram or whatever it was actors did when they had downtime on set.

It was a knock at the window that made them both look up and Emma had a very vivid flashback to being sixteen and getting caught parked in a car with a cute boy after sneaking out past curfew. That little stunt had gotten her kicked out of the group home she’d been living in at the time (safe haven for all, her ass) and even though she’d ended up at the Nolans as her next placement and been welcomed with open arms by Ruth, the memory still left a sour taste in the back of her throat. She turned away from Killian and got out of the cruiser with a cough, wishing she hadn’t forgotten her sunglasses.

“Mr. Jones, I’m sorry for interrupting, but we’re way behind schedule today and-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he said, exiting on the other side of the car and waving off the apology from the harried looking crew member with a lanyard around his neck and another of the ubiquitous walkie talkies they all seemed to carry. “Thank you very much for the official escort, Sheriff Swan.”

She didn’t bother to correct him again that she was only the deputy sheriff, giving him what she hoped was an official looking nod in response. “I’ll be sure to send Merida the bill for using so much of my valuable police time. And you’re welcome, Mr. Jones.”

“Killian,” he offered, before the crew member whisked him away, shepherding him through the maze of trucks and RVs while letting whoever was on the other end of the walkie talkie know that “Mr. Jones was now on set.” Emma thought that he might have hesitated for a bit, lingering for a moment longer with a glance back before disappearing around the side of an Airstream trailer with the crew member and she lost sight of him.

Or maybe she was imagining it.

She needed another coffee.

With their leading man safely delivered, Emma’s next task was to check that everything was running smoothly at this location and if A Midnight Clear needed any further assistance from the Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department.

“Another last minute permit…shut down traffic on Main Street again…close the library so you can film in it and have to listen to old Mrs. Hubbard bitch about not being able to read the latest National Enquirer for half an hour…give the ridiculously handsome star a blowjob-”

Emma halted dead in her tracks. Had she actually said that out loud? Shit, she did. Luckily, she’d only been muttering under her breath and it didn’t look like anyone was around to overhear. Her fingers found the badge on her belt, running over the metal star. She wasn’t some teenager crushing on a cute boy she’d talked to for all of five minutes, she was thirty years old, for fuck’s sake. An adult, with a college degree and a savings account. A law enforcement officer, come to…enforce the law.

God, that even sounded lame in her own head.

She really, really needed another coffee.

“Enforcing the law” in this case meant moving an orange pylon the crew had left that was too close to the accessible entrance to the park’s footpath. She’d make sure to note that stellar bit of police work in her daily log back at the station.

Signs had been posted to point the crew towards the set, not that Emma needed them. The bench was set in a clearing halfway down the path, not visible from where she was standing because of the trees. She followed along until it came into view, feeling her breath catch in her throat at the sight.

Henry had called it magic, and she supposed it was. Movie magic.

It was like an invisible snow globe had sprouted around the clearing. The green summer grass had been covered in a blanket of white that glittered in the sunlight the way actual snow would, while several faux evergreen trees had been strategically placed around the bench with more snow dusting their branches and dangling icicles that looked so real it was hard to believe they were probably made of plastic. A loud whirring noise suddenly rent the air, sounding like a motorcycle gang was about to come racing through. But this was Storybrooke, the closest thing they had to a motorcycle gang was when Marco gave Granny Lucas a ride to the diner on the back of his Vespa. A minute or so later, large white flakes started falling from the sky and the noise died down to a quieter hum as Merida’s malfunctioning snow machine had obviously been fixed. It all looked pretty damn realistic, Emma would give them that.

Killian appeared on the other side of the clearing, now sporting a black scarf and a pair of gloves with his suit. He was talking to Arthur, Emma was too far away to hear what they were saying but it didn’t take long before the actual filming started. She’d seen enough by now to know that it was a lot less exciting than it sounded. After watching the lead actress, Christina, film the same five second shot of her character walking into the library umpteen times, she really hadn’t paid much attention to what they were actually shooting whenever she had to babysit the crew on location around town. Regina called it “liasoning with the production” because Regina was, quite frankly, a bit of a snob, but really, it was babysitting.

She hadn’t seen Killian film before, and it was a lot more interesting. Yes, Emma could admit that partially it was because he was really, really good looking and it had been a while since her last date, and even longer since her last good date, but it wasn’t just that though. Something about him just changed when Arthur yelled action, the way he walked, his expression when he pretended to answer his cell phone, he wasn’t Killian Jones anymore, he was his character. Emma had only ever played the pity role of a tree in a school play once, she knew jack about acting. It was cool to watch an actual professional do it, especially when that professional looked like he did. They ran through the scene several times and during one of the breaks Killian waved at her. Emma waved back, telling herself the warm feeling in her chest was from the sun.

It was August, after all.

Henry was very excited to hear that she’d finally met the “coolest person ever to have set foot in Storybrooke” when Emma picked him and Paige up from camp that afternoon. They climbed into the Bug and showed her the popsicle stick snowflake ornaments they’d made in arts and crafts, since the Christmas fever had clearly infected Camp Arrowhead. After dropping Paige off at home and eating dinner Henry asked if they could watch Home Alone on Disney Plus, begging, “Please Mom? Please?”

Emma sighed to herself, putting the leftover potato salad back in the fridge. Whenever Henry was interested in something, he threw his whole heart and soul into it, and right now he was all about Christmas movies. She loved that about her son, while privately wondering where the heck it had come from. Not from her or Neal, that was for damn sure. Emma didn’t actually have a middle name, but if she did it might as well have been Cynical, and Neal, well, Neal never took anything seriously enough to care the way Henry did.

A part of her still loved Neal, even after everything that had happened between them.

She really didn’t want Henry to follow in some of his father’s footsteps, though.

Or hers.

“Home Alone it is then,” she agreed.

Henry settled happily on the living room floor, lying on his stomach with his chin propped in his hands to watch Kevin McAllister get left behind while his family rushed off to Paris. Emma curled up on the couch, feet tucked under an afghan Ruth had made for her when she’d been dropped at the Nolans’ door late one night with a duct-taped backpack and a chip the size of the McAllister’s ginormous house on her shoulder. She’d never really liked this movie, even when she was Henry’s age. Sure, the slapstick humor was still funny even as an adult, but…

But…

That huge mansion, filled to the brim with family on Christmas.

The desperate mother, fighting tooth and nail to return to her abandoned child.

The tearful reunion at the end.

Emma didn’t need a session with town psychiatrist Dr. Hopper to figure out that she had some issues with Christmas. Growing up in the system it was far from the most wonderful time of the year.

It was usually the worst.

Donated clothes that never fit quite right and generic gifts bought for “Girl Age 9-11”, no mother or father out there fighting their way back to her, no house full of family and Emma knew far too young that Santa wasn’t real, magic didn’t exist, and she was alone in the world, left behind to fend for herself not just for a few days, but for the rest of her life. She was the CPS equivalent of a misfit toy, a foster kid who got too old to be wanted. Even after Ruth took her in and David became the big brother she’d secretly always longed for, the damage had already been done. Even now, Christmas movies just reminded her of her shitty childhood.

“That was awesome!” Henry said once Kevin had been reunited with his family and the credits started to roll. Emma exited out of the Disney app and dropped the remote back onto the couch.

“You’ve already seen it about a million times,” she reminded him.

“If burglars tried to break in here, I’d set up booby traps to catch them too.”

She shook her head in exasperation. “No, you’d call 911 and do exactly what they told you to do. This is real life, kid, not a movie.”

“Movies are way cooler,” Henry proclaimed, flopping onto his back as dramatically as any actor with his arms spread wide as he announced it to the ceiling. She stifled a laugh.

“Yeah, they are,” she agreed, standing over him and holding out her hands to pull him to his feet. “Too bad you’re stuck here in the real world with me, huh?”

After Henry went to bed and she’d mindlessly scrolled through Netflix for a while —ignoring the algorithm’s suggestion to watch The Holiday and lingering for a bit on the thumbnail for Doctor Who before putting on a random episode of Nailed It instead—Emma found herself standing just outside Henry’s room. The door was ajar and she watched him sleep under the superhero posters that were dark shadows on the walls, with the Lego Star Wars x-wing fighter that David and Mary Margaret had given him last Christmas in place of pride on his dresser. Their little two-bedroom house in Storybrooke could charitably be called shabby chic, with its mismatched thrift-store furniture and and oddly-shaped rooms, it was a far cry from the McAllister’s giant McMansion and there was no luxury trips to Paris in Emma’s single mom budget, but she’d worked her ass off to make a home for her son and she was pretty damn proud of it

Her phone vibrated and she gently pulled Henry’s door closed before fishing it out of her pocket to check the notification. She expected to see a text from David or that Mary Margaret had tagged her in another Facebook post, instead it was from Instagram, letting her know that she had a new follower on her thatswangirl account, officialkillianjones. Sure enough, when she tapped the screen it took her right to his profile, the picture was definitely him and there was a blue check mark next to his name. The most recent post was a selfie where he had the black scarf he’d been wearing on set wrapped around his face and fake snow dusting his dark hair, one eyebrow quizzically raised while he stared into the camera. It was captioned, “Just walking in a winter wonderland, it’s still August, right?”

Having had similar thoughts multiple times a day over the last week, Emma snorted in agreement. She leaned against the wall, looking down at the screen. Killian Jones was now following her on Instagram, that was unexpected, to say the least. She followed him, or rather, Henry had followed him on her account, but she’d never expected him to follow her back. Had he actually gone looking for her profile or had Instagram just recommended her the way Netflix had recommended a Christmas movie even though it was August? Her finger was hovering over his latest post while she mused on it and the next thing she knew, she’d liked the photo. Seemed like the polite thing to do.

Henry was going to freak out again when she told him Killian followed her. Being “mutuals” on social media was apparently a Big Deal for reasons she didn’t quite understand.

She’d tell him in the morning, just like she’d told him that she’d met Killian on set, had answered all the questions he’d eagerly peppered her with during dinner, yes, he was very nice, yes, he liked Storybrooke, no, he hadn’t heard about the rain of lobsters (she hadn’t actually asked him if he did, to be honest), and yes, she told him Henry was a Doctor Who fan and he was happy to hear it.

She hadn’t told him about Killian’s offer to show him around the set and give him a behind the scenes look at the movie.

Her son wasn’t like her. Henry was cheerful, exuberant, and believed the best of everyone he

met. He would absolutely, one hundred percent believe that an actor in the middle of filming a movie would carve time out of his busy schedule to play tour guide to a random ten year old.

Emma knew better. It wasn’t worth getting his hopes up when the odds were that Killian had already forgotten all about it.

She closed Instagram. It was late, it had been a long day and she was ready for bed. Her own bedroom wasn’t that much larger than Henry’s and there was a serious lack of closet space, but it did have original hardwood floors that David had helped her refinish and a little wrought-iron Juliet balcony off the window. The house was an old sailor’s cottage, and Emma supposed the balcony had been for the sailor’s wife to lean on and look out to sea, waiting for her husband to return to her once more. She could hear the faint sound of the waves crashing on the beach when she opened the window to let in some air, the original features definitely didn’t include AC. It was a far cry from their old apartment in Boston, where there had been no chance of hearing anything except the drone of traffic or a drunken bar fight out of the window. Storybrooke had been a hell of an adjustment, but it was worth it to have a house with a backyard where Henry could play, a steady job with health insurance, family close by in the form of David and Mary Margaret, everything she’d ever wanted.

Well, almost everything, she thought, looking at the empty space on the side of the bed that used to be Neal’s.

Some dreams just didn’t come true.

************

“Seriously, you too?”

The turkey special was one thing, but now Granny’s Diner was fully decked out with little fake Christmas trees sitting on each table, snowflake banners strung up everywhere, red and green napkins in the dispensers and instead of the usual 80s music that was usually playing from the jukebox, it was Michael Buble again, currently informing them in his 40s throwback style that Santa Claus was coming to town. In August.

Granny Lucas looked down over the rim of her glasses. “Oh come on, Sheriff, it’s the most exciting thing to happen to this town since-”

“-since it rained lobsters on Main Street, I know, I know,” Emma finished with a sigh. “But it’s August.”

“It’s good for business,” Granny said. “The lobster bisque is still a top seller, you know.”

Emma hadn’t been able to stomach even the thought of lobster since that fateful day. She ordered her usual grilled cheese and onion rings, not bothering to look at the menu.

“Mom, can I get the turkey special?” Henry asked.

“Knock yourself out, kid.”

Henry wanted turkey instead of a burger and fries, and the woman whose picture could appear in the dictionary under “crotchety” was humming along to Christmas music in the middle of summer while she poured coffee. Everyone in Storybrooke had lost their damn minds. Or almost everyone. Mr. Gold was the lone holdout who’d refused to allow any filming on the properties he owned, his creepy little pawn shop was the only one left on Main Street without any decorations in the windows and Regina was utterly furious with him. Not that he cared, and the standoff between the mayor and the richest man in town didn’t look like it would end before the filming did.

Granny disappeared back into the kitchen and Emma listened while Henry chatted away about camp and whatever was considered new and cool among his fellow ten year olds, which seemed to change on a daily basis and she was barely thirty but god did she feel like she was about a hundred when her son started in on TikTock trends.

“Mom, look!”

Henry’s sudden gasp and grab at her arm came a split second after the bell over the door chimed, announcing that someone had just walked in. Her back was to whoever it was, but Henry’s eyes were as big as saucers and even before she turned around in the booth Emma knew exactly who had just walked into the diner.

Killian Jones was standing just inside the door, looking around with interest. Strangers in Storybrooke always stood out, something Emma remembered well from their first few months in town, and when said stranger was a handsome man who everyone knew was the star of the biggest thing to happen to the town since the lobsters, well, all eyes were on him.

He caught sight of her, and his face lit up with a smile. All eyes were on him, and he was looking only at her while he walked over to the booth.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi!”

It was Henry who replied to his greeting first, practically bouncing in his seat in excitement.

“Sorry to bother you, Sheriff Swan, but I was told this was the best place in town to get real American food and I was wondering if there was anything in particular I should order?”

Again it was Henry who answered, grabbing one of the menus from behind the napkin dispenser and opening it up on the table. “Oh, you have to try a milkshake. And a cheeseburger. I always get it with fries, but Mom prefers onion rings, and-”

“Whoa, slow down there,” Emma interrupted him, while Killian looked like he was stifling a laugh at Henry’s rapid-fire enthusiasm. “Mr. Jones isn’t going to order everything on the menu.”

“Call me Killian, please. And you must be Henry.”

His attention was all on her son now as he held out his hand for Henry to shake and uttered the magic words. “I heard you like Doctor Who.”

By the time Ruby came over to take his order he was sitting in the booth with them, showing a completely enthralled Henry pictures on his phone of the Doctor Who set. Ruby gave Killian a wide smile, her signature crimson lipstick perfect and one hip cocked in his direction when she pulled out her order pad and pen from her apron. Most men (and more than a few women) in Storybrooke were unable to resist Ruby’s bare midriff and wolfish grin. Killian only gave her a polite nod before looking back down at the menu and ordering a milkshake after conferring with Henry on which flavor was the best (chocolate, was Henry’s answer) and a cheeseburger with fries, Henry’s normal go-to meal. Ruby went back into the kitchen with a disappointed pout and Killian went back to telling Henry what he said were top TARDIS secrets until the food was dropped off on plates roughly the size of frisbees.

“Bloody hell,” he swore, looking a little stunned.

“There’s your real American food,” Emma smirked, picking up an onion ring from her plate and biting into it with relish.

“If I eat all this I don’t think I’ll fit back into my costume.”

Henry decided to be helpful. “Mom’ll steal some of your fries when you’re not looking.”

She rolled her eyes. “Thanks kid.”

“Steal?” Killian repeated, putting a theatrical emphasis on the word. “A fine upstanding officer would never steal, unless…why, Sheriff Swan, are you secretly a pirate?”

Henry was giggling alongside him and Emma played along with the joke, corny as it was.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she shot back.

“Perhaps I would.”

They were interrupted by two teenage girls, sharing nervous giggles as they came over to ask for Killian’s autograph and a selfie. He turned to them with that movie-star smile, signing and posing for several pictures with each. When he turned back Emma was holding one of the fries off his plate, the end already dipped in ketchup.

“Oops, how’d that get there?” she mused with faux innocence.

His smile turned to something less suitable for the Hallmark channel’s family friendly reputation as he leaned back in the booth and gave her an appraising look that she met head on while she ate the pilfered fry. She was still pretty good at nicking food when no one was looking, it was a lot more fun now than it had been when she was sixteen.

When Ruby dropped off the bill it seemed like no time had passed, but Emma noticed with a start that the diner was practically deserted, the lunch rush was clearly long over. Killian’s plate was empty, after he’d taken a few pictures to post “real American food” on his Instagram he’d dug in and eaten everything except the fries Emma had filched every time someone else had come over to ask for his autograph or a photo. It had turned into a game they all played until there was none left.

Killian got her back by taking the last onion ring from her plate, aided by her son distracting her, the little traitor. Now she knew how David felt.

“Bye Killian!” Henry said. “See you on Monday!”

During lunch he’d invited both Henry and Paige to visit the movie set on Monday after camp. Emma knew Henry was going to talk about nothing else until then. David was going to be just thrilled to hear all about it during Sunday dinner.

They all slid out of the booth and she went to grab the bill so she could take it up to the cash register at the front, only to see that it had disappeared off the table. Emma frowned, wondering if it had fallen on the floor.

“Ah,” Killian said, and he was even better at sleight of hand than she was because when she looked up she saw he had it, having lifted it without her even noticing. “Let me get this.”

Her initial reaction was to protest, it wasn’t like they’d been on a date or anything, plus it wasn’t just her grilled cheese, it was Henry’s turkey special too on the bill. He must have seen her reluctance on her face because he added, “Consider it thanks for keeping me company, I was just going to get takeaway for one and this was much more fun than eating by myself.”

“Okay,” she found herself agreeing. “Thanks.”

Granny came bustling over from behind the counter. “Hang on, Sheriff, you almost forgot these.”

She handed over two oversized candy canes, Henry snatched one and immediately unwrapped a cellophaned end, sticking it in his mouth like an old man with a cigar.

“Thanks Granny!” he beamed around his mouthful of peppermint before bounding towards the door. “See you on Monday, Killian! Don’t forget!”

“They come with the turkey special,” Granny explained in response to Emma’s questioning look. “And here’s one for our visitor, too, on the house. Come back anytime, Mr. Jones. You were very good for business today. Try the lobster bisque next.”

She handed another candy cane to Killian, looking very pleased with herself. The diner had been more crowded than usual during lunch, now that Emma thought about it, and there had definitely been a higher than average amount of teenage girls. Emma watched through narrowed eyes while Granny went back to the counter and waited until she was out of earshot.

“Take my advice,” she said to Killian, leaning in to murmur it low in his ear, “don’t try the bisque.”

“I heard that, Sheriff!”

Okay, so maybe Granny wasn’t quite out of earshot.

“I think you just made the naughty list, Swan,” Killian chuckled.

“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

She smirked at his stunned look, feeling something that she hadn’t felt in a long time when she turned and headed for the door, something that made her put a little bit more of a swing in her hips than was strictly necessary and unwrapping her own candy cane as she went. Maybe it wasn’t very professional of her to flirt with him like that, especially when Granny Lucas apparently had the hearing of a woman half her age, but hey, she was off duty and he was only going to be in town for a short while. What was the harm?

The candy cane was pretty good, Emma had to admit to herself.

Hey, candy was candy, no matter what month it was.

***********

David, predictably, was less than pleased at Sunday dinner to hear about Killian’s invitation, and was even grumpier the following week when Henry was still on cloud nine after visiting a real live movie set. He got to hear all about how cool Killian was, and how Henry and Paige got to watch him film a scene while sitting in real director’s chairs, and then they got to be extras in the background and were actually going to be in the movie and wasn’t that the coolest thing ever? Everyone at camp had been so jealous.

“They’re not the only ones,” Emma said with a knowing smile, glancing over at her brother.

“I am not jealous!” David protested. His crossed arms and childish pout told a different story. “Why would I be jealous? Pass me the potatoes.”

Emma handed him the bowl and he started spooning them onto his plate with more force than was strictly necessary.

“Hey Mom?” Henry asked, oblivious to his uncle’s black mood as he took a roll from the basket Mary Margaret was offering to him, “Can I be Prince Charles for Halloween?”

“Prince Charles?” Mary Margaret repeated, putting the basket of rolls down and looking completely baffled.

“Not Prince Charles, Prince Charles,” Emma tried to explain, which only made her look even more confused. “Not the real Prince Charles, I mean. The character Killian played on Doctor Who was named Prince Charles, it was this running gag because he was from a different planet and didn’t know there was a Prince Charles here too so everyone thought he was joking when he said that was his name. Especially since he’s a lot more hand-“

She caught herself before she finished the thought and covered it up with a cough, trying to divert attention away from the fact that she’d almost just called him handsome in front of both her brother and her son. Judging by David’s rolled eyes and Mary Margaret’s raised eyebrows she wasn’t entirely successful, although thankfully Henry didn’t appear to have noticed.

“But, kid,” she continued, “Halloween costumes already? It’s only August. You’ll change your mind ten times before October.”

He shook his head. “No, I won’t, I promise! Please Mom? Please?”

“You said that last year about Iron Man, but then you wanted to be Boba Fett instead, remember?”

“This is different!”

Henry had that stubborn look on his face, the same one he had whenever he’d made his mind up about something, like which was the best Star Wars movie after Empire, (it was Rogue One) or that peas were gross (she agreed with him there), the look that Neal claimed he got from her and boy did that never fail to piss her off. But Neal was back in Boston (with Tamara, that little voice in her head oh so helpfully reminded her, the woman he said she didn’t have to worry about) and while he may have been right about where their son got that particular trait, she didn’t feel like arguing with Henry tonight, especially not so close to Christmas…

…fuck. It was August. She blamed the constant stream of Christmas music and the decorations Mary Margaret had put up already. Her Bug could only pick up the local station and it was too old (or vintage, as she preferred to call it) to have Bluetooth, so they'd arrived at the farm before dinner with the Little Drummer Boy rum-pa-pum-pumming away from the radio to find enough wireframe reindeer set up in the yard to pull Santa’s sleigh and a wreath on the door, while inside the stockings Ruth had made were hanging up on the fireplace mantle and even Fandral the golden retriever was jauntily dressed in a festive red plaid collar instead of his normal black one.

“They won’t make a costume for that,” Emma said instead of saying no outright, trying to let Henry down easy, “he’s not a big enough character.”

He frowned, looking down at his plate and chewing on his lip. She knew she was right, Target wasn’t going to have a Prince Charles costume alongside the umpteen Spidermans and Elsas.

“I could make it,” Mary Margaret offered.

Henry looked up, hope flaring bright on his face. “You could?”

“I’ve been meaning to get Ruth’s old sewing machine down from the attic to make a few, um, projects anyway, it’ll be good practice. Do you have a picture of it?

“Mom?”

He swiveled to face Emma with big, excited eyes. She had her phone sitting on the dinner table in case there was an emergency back at the station, like Mr. Gold getting another call asking if his refrigerator was running or Regina making an urgent report after catching someone littering. With a few taps she opened Instagram, going to Killian’s profile and scrolling back until she found a photo he’d posted of himself dressed in the Prince Charles costume of a long brown coat worn over a white shirt and black vest.

“It doesn’t look easy to make,” she warned, turning the screen towards Mary Margaret. Emma wasn’t the crafty type, not like her “I saw it on Pinterest!” spouting sister-in-law, but that coat seemed pretty complicated. Mary Margaret took the phone to have a closer look and squinted down at the photo, chewing her lip just like Henry.

“I’ll have to look for a pattern that I can adapt into the coat, and it’ll take a decent amount of fabric, but I should be able to copy it.”

“Yes!” Henry was bouncing in his seat, “See Mom? Aunt Mary can make it for me!”

Emma wondered if she’d ever stop getting caught by surprise every time David showed up at her house with his toolbox whenever she complained about the water pressure in the shower or the window that refused to open, or when Mary Margaret made social media-worthy cupcakes for Emma to take to the PTA meeting after she had a late shift at the station the night before and had no time (or skill) to bake herself. Her knee-jerk reaction was usually to protest, to say she could handle it herself, except she had to admit she wouldn’t be able to make anywhere near as good of a costume as Mary Margaret could make no matter which online tutorial she tried to follow.

“Okay,” she agreed, knowing she was powerless against the both of them now that they’d teamed up against her, “but, Mary Margaret, if it turns out it’s too much work for you-”

“Bah,” she interrupted. “What’s family for? Henry’s going to be the best Prince Charles in Storybrooke when I’m done.”

“He’s going to be the only Prince Charles in Storybrooke,” David pointed out. “Sure you don’t want to be Han Solo this year? I can be Chewbacca.”

“Nope!” Henry said, his ten year old mind clearly made up. Which meant he’d probably change it tomorrow, just like he’d gone from insisting that he had to be Iron Man one day to Boba Fett the next last year, but for now, her son was going to be a two-episode character that no one except die hard Doctor Who fans would recognize for Halloween.

David continued to sulk in his chair and stab at his food while Mary Margaret handed the phone back to Emma. It was still open on the photo from Killian’s Instagram and when she looked down she saw the heart was now filled in, meaning Mary Margaret had liked the months-old post.

Crap.

She narrowed her eyes at her sister-in-law, who was calmly serving herself from a snowflake patterned bowl that normally didn’t appear until December. For someone who dressed and acted like a 1950s schoolteacher with her pastel sweater sets and sunny, glass-is-half-full optimism, she had a suspiciously satisfied look on her face.

“Pass the salt, please,” she asked mildly, meeting Emma’s gaze over Henry’s head. “It’s certainly a nice…costume, isn’t it, Emma?”

Yeah, liking Killan’s post was no accident.

************

If there was one place in town that Emma would have bet actual cash on not giving in to the red-and-green wave that had spread through Storybrooke like a zombie apocalypse, only with a horde of gingerbread men instead of the walking dead, it was The Rabbit Hole.

Nope.

The shitty dive bar atmosphere of mismatched glassware and pool tables with faded felt was somehow even shittier with one of those white artificial trees set up in the corner and old-school multicolored lights strung haphazardly around the walls. At least there wasn’t any Christmas music playing—Emma may or may not have looked up flights to Canada one afternoon at the station while plotting how to murder Michael Buble and make it look like a tragic accident—classic rock thumped in the background instead when she walked in the door.

Henry was spending his monthly weekend in Boston with Neal and Ruby had dragged Emma out of her empty house to hit the town. In Storybrooke the pickings were slim, it wasn’t like there were any wine bars or clubs, so they went down to The Rabbit Hold alongside everyone else who wanted to blow off some steam on a Saturday night. Which included a bunch of the movie people, Emma saw the seven Teamsters pounding back beers together at a table and Merida throwing back shots as if they were water, while Arthur was hitting on anything in a skirt. Including Emma herself when they first arrived, which…no. Even though he was a good looking guy and would be far from the first asshole she ever slept with, she did not need to get laid that badly.

“You know it’s August, right?” she said to Ruby, pointing at the headband she was wearing. It had reindeer antlers. She was also wearing a short, sparkly red dress that would fit in perfectly at a Christmas party, but then again she wore red year round anyway.

“So? Lighten up, Emma, you’re giving off serious Grinch vibes, you know.”

She stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry at Ruby, which probably proved her point. Emma had to admit she was in a grinchy mood, with Henry gone and the house so much quieter without him there.

“You need a drink, and a dick, and not necessarily in that order.”

One thing about Ruby Lucas that anyone who spent more than five minutes with her learned was that while she may live in a storybook town that looked like the very definition of family friendly, she talked like she was starring in her own show on HBO.

“Let’s start with the drink,” Emma said, steering Ruby towards the bar and not having much hope of finishing with a dick.

The thing about small towns where everyone knew each other was that...it was a small town and everyone knew each other. One night stands were super awkward when you had to pull them over for speeding a week later after they never called you back, and she didn’t need Mary Margaret to start wedding planning after hearing from Ashley at the grocery store that her boyfriend Sean had been told by his friend Philip that Emma had left the bar the night before with someone they’d all known all their lives. So she nursed her Sam Adams (you could take the girl out of Boston, but you couldn’t take Boston out of the girl) for as long as possible and watched Ruby work her mojo instead of looking for someone to give her the “D” - as Ruby so unsubtly put it. Not that Ruby herself was leaning that way either, since she ended up doing shots with Merida and from the way they were looking at each other, leaning in close to speak in the other’s ear even though it wasn’t that loud, “friendly” touches to hands and arms and shoulders that lasted a little too long...yeah. Ruby wasn’t going home alone.

Well, she did like red. That extended to redheads, apparently.

“So...looks like your friend is having a Highland fling tonight.”

Emma looked over as Killian Jones sat down next to her in the seat Ruby had abandoned to go visit Scotland instead. He tipped his glass towards the pair, Ruby was now sitting on Merida’s lap with her dress riding dangerously high up her thighs and Emma really hoped she wouldn’t have to arrest her best friend for indecent exposure.

Again.

“I guess so,” she drawled, waiting to see if he was going to leer and make some gross comment about how hot two girls were together. He didn’t though, he just finished his drink and waved at the bartender.

“Another rum, neat, and one of whatever the lady is having.”

He looked good, that knife’s edge jaw covered with dark scruff several hours past a five o’clock shadow, his blue eyes bright even in the dimly lit room. Blue eyes that were fixed firmly on her, making Emma warmer than the liquor or the balmy summer night.

Ruby and Merida disappeared together at some point, Emma wasn’t really sure when. She drank the beer Killian bought her, and then bought him a drink, because she was an adult with a job and her own credit card and he didn’t know Philip or Sean or Ashley.

Especially because he didn’t know Philip or Sean or Ashley.

“Need a police escort home?” she asked, when his glass was empty and she knew the burn between her thighs wouldn’t be satisfied with her own hand tonight. Technically she was off the clock, but it was her sworn duty to protect and serve the people of the town, and that included handsome visiting actors with accents more delicious than candy canes or pumpkin spice lattes. It was just hitting midnight when they left The Rabbit Hole into a clear night of sea breeze coming in off the ocean and the stars above guiding their way like the sailors coming home to the lovers left behind on land. There was heat in the air, heat between them in the heavy-lidded glances they shared that were thick with anticipation, heat in the rum Emma wanted to taste directly from his mouth instead of a glass. She pulled him to her by his necklace, fingers wrapping in the cool metal of the chain and her back hitting the wall behind them.

The music from the bar was still faintly audible when their lips met, bass notes echoing like the beat of her pulse as she felt the kiss all the way to her toes. He caged her in place, hand sliding to the back of her neck and she met him more than halfway, her hips pressing against the bulge she could feel in his tight jeans and sliding her tongue along his reddened bottom lip. She relished his shiver when she grazed it with her teeth.

Killian pulled back, his eyes a glittering line through dark lashes and his voice a rasp of liquor and lust.

“Swan, are you sure?”

Emma really, really shouldn’t be doing this for a number of really, really good reasons, she had a kid, she had to oversee the rest of the movie shoot, Regina would probably kill her if she found out, literally, not figuratively, but, fuck it.

“Yes.”

He was staying in a house that the production company had arranged for him, he explained, a giant Victorian affair with gingerbread trim and one of those wide wrap-around porches that was made for a swing. Killian seemed slightly embarrassed when she couldn’t stop herself from gaping at it, although who could blame her, the house had a damn turret, for fuck’s sake. He fumbled with the lock and muttered that it was far too big for one person but it had been on the market for ages with no takers so they got a good deal on a short term rental. She followed him in when he finally got the door open, catching a glimpse of a kitchen that would have Mary Margaret squeeing over the vintage appliances and a giant bay window before he was on her, mouth latching onto her neck and all thoughts of her sister-in-law and architectural details flew out of her head. Strong hands reached under her thighs, lifting her up so that her legs wrapped around his hips. The line of his erection pressed against the damp lace under her dress with the movement, making them both shudder.

Killian carried, actually carried, her up the stairs, like she was a heroine from Bridgerton or something and not just a blonde he picked up at a bar, and damn if that wasn’t even more of a turn on. They tumbled through a door and onto a bed, her ankles crossing behind his back while he continued to grind between her thighs, his tongue in her mouth and his hands now planted rather firmly on her ass. She didn’t mind that at all and was eager to get her hands on him too, grabbing the hem of his T-shirt to find bare skin that was scorching to the touch when she dragged it up his sides. He had to go up on his knees on the bed to get it off completely, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the side as soon as his arms were free. His chest was dusted with a generous amount of dark hair, it turned into a line that went down his stomach and disappeared into the waistband of his jeans with a tantalizing hint of the treasure that lay at the end of the trail. There was something so delightfully male about it, and the noise he made when she raked her nails through the fine mat was even better.

Her dress was next to go, and while she hadn’t gone out with the expectation of getting laid she had worn something underneath that definitely meant she wasn’t opposed to the idea, lace-trimmed and sheer in all the right places and would look damn good on Killian’s bedroom floor. He pulled a bra strap down with his teeth and swirled his tongue around her nipple, bringing it to a tight pebble in his mouth while his fingers worked at the button of his jeans.

“You have condoms, right?” she asked, voice more than a little breathless and her back arching to give him better access.

“Yes,” he answered, flicking his tongue one more time over the tight peak before his dark head came up and he winked at her. “But we’ve got time before we need them.”

He leaned forward then and kissed her, far more softly this time. The hookups she’d had after her breakup with Neal had been more about scratching the itch, getting off and getting out as soon as possible. She’d almost forgotten it could be like this instead. Killian kept his word and took his time, kissing a line down her neck and back to her breasts, lavishing each one in turn with licks and sucks that had her flushed right down to her navel. When he hooked his thumbs in the lace clinging to her hips and dragged it down she was more than ready, slick with arousal under his fingers while he braced himself on one arm to reach between her legs. He slid up and down in a friction that had her gripping his shoulders and holding on against the wave that was poised to drag her under. When he slid two fingers inside and crooked them just right she met his eyes for a moment, the blue swallowed in a dark storm of desire, before her head tipped back helplessly into his pillow and she fell over the edge with a gasp.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, more to himself than to her. Another kiss was pressed to her lips while she lay panting for air and then he reached over to the bedside table and pulled open a drawer, rummaging around blindly inside until he found the box of condoms. Emma saw that it was unopened, which made her wonder if she was the first woman he’d slept with since he arrived in town. Not that it really mattered, this was just a one time thing, but still.

His boxer briefs were tented with his erection. She sat up and slid her palm over it while he was tearing a condom off the string and his hips jerked into her hand. A smirk played at her lips as she did it again, before toying with the waistband and tracing the lines of his abs with the tip of her nail.

“You said we had time, right?”

His accent was thicker, rougher, when he answered. “I did, didn’t I?”

Emma peeled the cotton down his thighs and pushed him onto his back, plucking the condom from his unresisting hand for later and laying it on the sheets next to his hips. As late as it already was, she wasn’t ready for the night to end just yet. They had time, time for her to lick a teasing stripe up the length of him and watch the muscles in his stomach contract at the sensation, time to take him in her mouth and continue the tease with her tongue. Each gasp and groan that followed made her feel sexy, gorgeous, desired, all the things she didn’t usually have time for in her daily life. When she finally released him her was rock hard and the second the condom was rolled on he dragged her onto his lap, a wrecked look on his face. It was just the right side of rough when he thrust up, hands tight on her hips and breath hot on her neck. His beard rasped against her skin while the thick drag of his erection rocked inside her, she was going to feel it in the morning and she relished the thought.

They found a rhythm, Emma riding him to the tempo only they could hear, rolling her hips and squeezing around him. The bed creaked with the movement and his deep groans mixed with her own higher-pitched cries. He filled her on each stroke, it felt amazing and yet it wasn’t quite enough to bring her off again. Killian seemed to sense it when she started to falter, chasing the high that stayed just out of reach. He tightened his arms around her back and rolled them, settling on top of her and giving a heavy thrust that made her toes curl and her back arch. Her eyes squeezed shut and one of his hands found hers, lacing their fingers together against the mattress and holding tight. The other lifted her knee and changed the angle just enough to give her that last little push she needed to come a second time.

Killian followed her a few moments later, burying his face in her neck and his back slick with sweat as he shuddered through his climax.

“That was,” he breathed, clearly too blissed out to even finish the thought.

“Yeah,” she agreed.

It had been the best sex she’d had in a long time, blowing every other one-night stand completely out of the water. She had no illusions that it was more, he was only in town for a short time and it was all she wanted, anyway.

“Does Granny’s serve breakfast?”

The sudden question from the pleasant weight pinning her to the bed caught her off guard. “What, like right now?”

Killian chuffed quietly into her shoulder. “No, it’s just that I’ve got nought but some tea and toast to offer you in the morning, and I think I’ve finally finished digesting that cheeseburger by now.”

That made her snort, remembering the look on his face when he’d first encountered Granny’s idea of a portion size. It took her another second to realize that he expected her to not only stay the night, but to stay for breakfast. It was sweet, but-

There was always a but.

But if she went to Granny’s Diner with him in the morning, wearing the same dress she’d worn to The Rabbit Hole the night before, the whole town would know they’d slept together before the lunch rush. She should make an excuse to leave, find her underwear, and go home.

Killian kissed her neck and got out of bed, disappearing into an ensuite bathroom. She’d tell him she had the early morning shift at the station, she’d tell him Henry was coming home and she had to go, she’d tell him something, anything, and leave…

The combination of alcohol and incredible sex was making her limbs heavy and the prospect of having to put her bra back on was about as appealing at the moment as a budget meeting with Mayor Mills. Plus his bed was so comfy, king-sized and covered in pillows that she wanted to bury herself in.

Emma was almost asleep when Killian climbed back into bed, one arm snaking around her waist and pulling her so that she was spooned against him with her back to his front. Lips brushed against her ear and he whispered, “Goodnight, love.”

Just before she drifted off completely she felt a pang of regret, that she couldn’t go out for breakfast with him in the morning or go home with him again at night no matter how good looking he was or how good he was in bed.

Or how good he was with her son.

It was just a one time thing.

********

“A grilled cheese and onion rings, right Emma?”

“Yes, thank you Ruby.”

Ruby jotted the order down on her pad and turned to Henry. “And for you, kiddo?”

“No turkey special?”

She rested a hand on her hip and shook her head. “Fraid not. Back to the old menu now, I can do a burger, or the lobster bisque.”

Emma suppressed a shudder. Luckily Henry wasn’t much interested in lobster unless they were raining down from the sky, and he ordered a cheeseburger with fries instead. In addition to the old menu Granny’s Diner was back to the regular decor, the napkins were white, the mini trees were gone, and the jukebox was playing Top 40 hits from the Reagan administration instead of Christmas music. No more Michael Buble, no one was wearing Santa hats, or wishing each other happy holidays, the Bean & Brew was back to promoting iced coffees instead of pumpkin spice lattes and everything was back to normal in Storybrooke.

Just what Emma had been waiting for.

Henry started chattering away about whatever was currently going viral, something that was of vital importance to any self-respecting ten year old. Emma listened with half an ear, waiting for their order. Ruby brought over Henry’s milkshake and her hot chocolate with cinnamon. It was slightly cooler now than it had been a few weeks ago, but it was still almost seventy degrees out. She’d just been in the mood for one.

“Crap, I forgot to add the cinnamon. Sorry Emma, I’ll go grab it.”

Before she left the bell over the door rang, announcing a new arrival to the diner. Emma’s back was to it so she couldn’t see who it was at first, it was Ruby who looked over first and a smile broke over her face.

“Hey, look who just came back to town.”

Emms felt her heartbeat quicken and a flush rise in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the heat coming from her drink. Henry was grinning and waving like a maniac and she took a breath, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. When she opened them and turned around she immediately locked eyes with the man who’d just walked in.

“Oh,” she said, slumping down in her seat and unable to stop the wave of disappointment washing over her. “It’s August.”

*********

“Merry Christmas!”

Emma smiled and took the festive red cup from the barista, a young man wearing an elf hat with his green apron.

“Thanks. Merry Christmas to you too.”

She stepped outside of the packed Starbucks after adding an extra dash of cinnamon from the condiment bar to her gingerbread hot chocolate, beanie pulled down over her ears and her jacket zipped up to her chin. The cold still nipped at her cheeks and her breath immediately fogged the air, it was December, after all.

Fortifying herself against the chill with a sip of her drink, she joined the throng packing the sidewalk. The skyscrapers above, the massive crowds, the Starbucks and takeout places on every corner, New York City was a far cry from Storybrooke.

Henry’s list of exciting things to happen in their sleepy little town now included the day when the FBI had arrived without warning to arrest Mr. Gold. It turned out that the pawn shop owner and richest man in Storybrooke had made his money years prior by defrauding investors in a scheme where he claimed to be able to create gold from inexpensive materials, like lab-created diamonds, that was indistinguishable from the real thing. In truth, it was all a scam and the supposed gold was fake. By the time his investors found out they’d been fleeced, he’d taken the money and run. “Gold” wasn’t even his real name, he’d chosen that as his alias and from Emma’s acquaintance with him she was sure he was probably feeling very smug and satisfied with himself over his not so clever little joke. Storybrooke had been his hiding spot with his young trophy wife and stolen cash, the townspeople none the wiser until a literal SWAT team showed up.

Emma had caught him before he crossed the town line, trying to flee in a car that had just been reported stolen to the local radio station instead of the sheriff’s department. She’d been completely unaware of the special task force that was raiding his house at the same time, a group of highly trained agents who didn’t look too happy that it was a small town cop who’d actually apprehended the man who was fifth on their top ten most wanted list when she brought him in.

Gold had stolen a lot of money. A lot.

As the arresting officer she’d had to come to New York City, the scene of Gold’s crime, to give a formal statement in person at the FBI’s field office, answer the same questions over and over again about a hundred times, sign more paperwork than the Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department generated in six months, and accept her share of the reward money.

Yes Virginia, there was reward money.

Enough to pay off her student loans, put a sizable chunk into Henry’s college fund, splurge on a killer leather jacket that she’d been eyeing online forever and looked damn good in, if she did say so herself, and buy some very nice Christmas presents for the people in her life. She had several things already stashed back in her hotel room for Mary Margaret and David, although her idiot brother was still in the doghouse with her for the little stunt he’d pulled. Bound and determined to prove he was Henry’s cool uncle (never mind the fact that he was Henry’s only uncle) he’d let her ten year old son drive his truck.

Right into a town mailbox.

She should have bought him a lump of coal instead of AirPods. Luckily Regina was too busy gloating over Gold’s arrest and the defeat of her longtime nemesis to notice the wilful destruction of town property before Graham had it removed. Emma, on the other hand, had threatened both David and Henry with a weekend in side by side cells at the station with nothing but bread and water if they ever did it again. Technically that was a misuse of police authority, but considering she had a citation from the FBI with a fancy seal and everything now posted above her desk she felt she could get away with it.

David’s gift was done, Mary Margaret’s was done (along with a few gifts for the new addition to the family that had been tearfully announced at Thanksgiving, Baby Boy or Girl Nolan would be making his or her appearance right around Easter) and while she’d picked up several things for Henry, there was one item on his list she was still trying to snag.

Gingerbread hot chocolate in hand, she crossed 34th street and walked into Macy’s to hit up the special Lego pop-up holiday store inside. It carried several sets that weren’t available anywhere else, not even online, including a limited edition Star Wars themed one that Henry had declared to be the coolest Lego set ever. He wasn’t the only one, it was such a hot ticket item among Lego enthusiasts that the store only put out a few at completely random times of the day to discourage scalpers and they always sold out immediately. There were even Twitter accounts solely devoted to posting when they were available, Emma had followed them all in desperation but had no luck so far. Now she was down to her last night in New York before heading back to Storybrooke and she was going to give it one more try even though she had little hope of finding one.

But for Henry, it was worth a shot.

Like every other store Macy’s was completely done up for the holidays, with garlands of tinsel and greenery draped everywhere, giant stars hanging from the ceiling, and Paul McCartney simply having a wonderful Christmastime over the loudspeakers. The entrance to the pop-up itself was flanked by two six-foot tall nutcrackers made of Lego, and inside there was a Lego Christmas tree that everyone stopped at to take photos. As impressive as it was, Emma was on a mission and she bypassed all the tourists taking selfies to make her way straight to the Star Wars section, feeling a bit like Princess Leia when she knelt down by the life-sized Lego R2-D2 to check the lowest shelf just in case one had been shoved back there.

Hey only hope was dashed when all she found was a line of Baby Yodas.

“Excuse me,” she straightened up and snagged one of the employees walking by in his “Merry and Br(icks)ight” T-shirt, “are there any of those limited edition May The Force Be With You sets out right now?”

He shook his head, juggling an armful of Imperial tie fighters. “No, sorry, we’re already sold out of those for the day. You can try again tomorrow.”

She couldn’t, but she didn’t say it. “Okay, thanks.”

It had always been a longshot, but she couldn’t help the stab of dejection. Some part of her had thought that maybe, just maybe, she’d miraculously be able to find one for her son and make his Christmas dream come true. The employee walked off and she gave one final, resigned look at the display of Millenium Falcons before she left the store too, just in case.

“Excuse me, miss.”

Emma turned around at the voice to find another employee standing behind her, and older man with white hair and glasses. He looked a bit familiar, but before she could figure out how her gaze dropped to the box he was holding. She recognized it on sight even though she could hardly believe what she was seeing, it was the limited edition, impossible to find even on eBay, May The Force Be With You Lego set, number one on Henry’s Christmas list.

“I couldn’t help but overhear, is this what you were looking for?”

She took it from him, almost too stunned to speak. “Yes,” she managed to squeak out, sounding like a little kid, “yes, this is the one my son wants. But I thought it was sold out?”

“Ah,” he smiled. “There was just this one left in the back, I’m glad I was able to grab it for you. Merry Christmas to you and your son.”

“Thank you. Merry Christmas to you too.”

She turned the box over carefully in a bit of a daze, double and triple checking to make sure it was really the right one and she wasn’t seeing things. When she looked up to thank the employee again, he was already gone.

Huh. Weird.

On her way to the checkout she got stopped three separate times by people offering to buy the set off her, it was that hot. It was also ridiculously expensive, like holy shit, how much kind of expensive, but she didn’t even flinch at the total when she swiped her credit card. It was for Henry, and that was all that mattered.

The temperature had dropped some more by the time she left Macy’s and she wanted nothing more than to go back to her hotel and order some room service, since she was on official business all her expenses were paid for and an overpriced grilled cheese and a glass of wine from the mini-bar followed by a hot bath were calling to her, but she had one final thing to do in New York before she left.

When Henry had found out about her trip he’d been incredibly excited, which surprised her because she’d been expecting him to be disappointed that she had to leave so close to Christmas and would miss out on both the Town Hall carol sing and David and Mary Margaret’s annual ugly Christmas sweater party. It turned out he was so thrilled because the nonstop holiday movie marathon that had been going on in their house all month thanks to Disney Plus had included numerous viewings of Home Alone 2: Lost in New York. Henry had all these grand plans for her trip, that she was going to stay in a lavish suite at the Plaza Hotel, visit Duncan’s Toy Chest, and be driven around in a limousine, just like Kevin McCallister did when he got separated from his family, again.

Right.

She was staying at a nondescript Hilton in midtown, was taking cabs instead of limos, and had to break the news to Henry that the toy store in the movie was fictional.

There was one key location though that wasn’t either insanely expensive or non-existent and she hailed a cab, keeping a tight hold on her shopping bag as she slid into the backseat and told the driver where she wanted to go. He pulled away from the curb and Emma watched the streets go by from the window, storefronts all decorated and a kaleidoscope of lights reflecting on the glass.

“The WYNC-FM weather forecast is brought to you by the Hallmark Channel, where every night is Christmas Eve! Tune in tonight for Mistletoe and Memories, a brand new movie about a secret, second-chance romance at the holidays! ”The latest weather forecast has changed again and most of the Eastern seaboard can expect to see a white Christmas this year, with snow expected on the twenty-fourth through the twenty-sixth. Maine in particular will receive several inches spread over the holidays, especially in the coastal parts of the state. And to celebrate, here’s the time-honored classic itself.”

The radio station started playing White Christmas, Bing Crosby’s gravelly voice drifting out of the speakers. Henry would be happy to hear there was going to be snow on Christmas, while it had definitely been cold and blustery in Storybrooke, there hadn’t been any snow yet. He’d asked if the town could get one of those machines they used to make the movie and have Christmas all year round.

Emma didn’t find the idea nearly as unappealing as she might have a few months ago.

“We’re here, miss.”

After paying the fare she stepped out and was immediately looked up. The famous Christmas tree at Rockefeller Centre was a lot taller in person than it was on screen in Home Alone 2, she had to crane her neck to see all the way up to the star on top. It was covered in lights and shone bright against the night sky, presiding over the open plaza below. At the foot of it was a skating rink, and despite the near freezing temperatures it was still full of people gliding back and forth on the ice. There were tourists come to sightsee milling about, couples bundled up against the cold walking arm-in-arm, hot dog carts and souvenir stands and the whole scene was all very quintessentially New York.

Back home in Storybrooke they had their own tree-lighting ceremony on a much smaller scale at the Town Hall a few weeks prior to kickoff the season, followed by the “Gala Premiere,” as Regina called it, of Storybrooke’s very own Christmas movie. The gala premiere consisted of a screen and a projector set up in the high school auditorium, hot drinks catered by the Bean & Brew, and a rented popcorn machine. David and Mary Margaret came, and Ashley and Sean, and Paige and her dad, and a very, very excited Henry with Emma in tow, all to watch the bookish small-town girl played by Christina Bell fall for the visiting, mysterious Englishman played by Killian Jones, against a backdrop of fake snow and careful editing to hide the fact that it had been filmed in August. They’d renamed the movie, instead of A Midnight Clear it was now A Count for Christmas, because the big reveal was that Killian’s character was actually a count.

Henry was already planning next year’s Halloween costume based on it. As David had predicted, no one had known who he was supposed to be in the Prince Charles costume Mary Margaret had painstakingly made when he went out trick-or-treating with Paige in her much more recognizable Scarlet Witch outfit from Target. But Henry hadn’t cared, not when the official Doctor Who Instagram account itself had reposted the picture Emma had taken of him all dressed up.

She was pretty sure she had Killian to thank for that.

So next year her son was going to be a count instead of a prince. The scene where he and Paige were extras in the background had lasted less than a minute, and only the back of his head was briefly visible on screen, but in true Mike Wazowski fashion none of that had mattered to him and he’d proclaimed to anyone who’d listen, Ruby, the mailman, his dentist, Pongo the Dalmatian, that he’d actually been in a movie!

It was cheesy, and sappy, and sentimental, and all the things Emma swore up and down she wasn’t into.

Maybe she was, a little bit.

A clip from it even went viral, of a rather smoldering look Killian had shot to Christina that was very un-Hallmark like and more suited to something on HBO. It blew up on TikTok, to the point where Killian had even been interviewed by several media outlets and gained over a hundred thousand Instagram followers. Emma was happy for his success (and maybe, just maybe a tiny bit jealous that the look hadn’t been directed at her), although she wasn’t as thrilled as Regina, who actually put out a press release about Storybrooke’s role in the clip.

The selfie Emma took with the Rockefeller Christmas tree behind her wasn’t going to go viral when she posted it on Instagram, adding the caption “not so lost in New York”. That was okay,

it was for Henry and his love of Christmas movies, belief in superheroes and magic and all the good things in the world that she might have forgotten about without him in her life.

There was a busker in the plaza in fingerless gloves and a Santa hat, playing the guitar. Naturally, it was a Christmas song. Even though she’d only planned to grab the photo with the tree and then head back to her hotel, she found herself staying to listen.

Emma recognized the irony of it, after all her complaining back in August about the non-stop Christmas music that drove her to secretly plot how to take out the three worst offenders, Josh Groban, Mariah Carey, and Michael Buble (he was Canadian, so it involved a hockey stick and maple syrup) she’d come around and actually didn’t mind the acoustic version of All I Want For Christmas Is You the busker was strumming. A small group had gathered around to listen and when he finished, she clapped along with them. His guitar case was open on the ground by his feet for donations and a few people tossed in some coins and small bills.

She dropped in a fifty, with the reward money safely deposited in her bank account she could afford to spread some extra Christmas cheer to a stranger. His eyes absolutely lit up when he saw it and she smiled to herself.

“Thank you everyone, I hope you’re all having a lovely evening tonight,” he said to the crowd. “Are there any requests?”

The question was directed at her and there was one song, in particular, that immediately sprang to mind.

“Do you know It Came Upon a Midnight Clear?”

He thought to himself for a moment, plucking a few experimental chords on his guitar. Then he found it, and music filled the air again. As far as Christmas songs went it was softer than a lot of the other, more popular ones, it was wistful, with just a hint of melancholy but ending on a hopeful note. Even though the title of the Hallmark movie had been changed, they kept a scene where Christina and Killian’s characters had to meet up at midnight to break into the library and find the stolen deed to Killian’s ancestral estate that proved he was the rightful heir so he could claim his title. The song had played while snow fell around them as they opened the book of fairytales where the deed had been hidden and found it at last.

Emma had heard Merida cursing at the snow machine with insults that got increasingly more Scottish when it kept malfunctioning the day they filmed the scene, even the seven Teamsters were shocked by how colorful some of them were, and that asshole Arthur had been in a giant snit by the delay and was even more insufferable than usual. But it all came together in the end and watching the final result in the darkened Storybrooke High gym with Henry beside her staring in slack-jawed awe at the screen like it was Avengers Endgame, she had to admit it was worth it.

Movie magic, as Henry called it.

“Emma? Emma, are you here? SWAN!”

The voice cut through the music and the crowd, rising above them all and she felt herself frown, turning in a circle to look for whoever the hell it was who was calling her name. She was alone in the middle of New York City, hundreds of miles away from home.

A man pushed his way through a knot of tourists clustered around one of the hot dog carts and came to a halt several feet away as he caught sight of her. Emma froze on the spot, too shocked by the unexpected sight in front of her to do anything except stare as the music and the crowd and everything else faded away.

It was Killian Jones.

She blinked.

He was still there.

Dressed in a black puffer coat with a scarf around his neck but his head bare against the winter chill. His dark hair was longer than it was the last time she saw him back in Storybrooke the day after filming wrapped, a lock almost fell into his eyes and it curled around the tips of his ears in the winter breeze. He looked good and he looked happy, smiling bright as he crossed the last bit of distance between them.

“Fancy meeting you here, Deputy Sheriff Swan.”

“What? How?” she sputtered, not quite believing he was real. “Killian?”

“I saw your Instagram post.”

She saw now that he had his phone in one gloved hand and when he held it up, the photo she’d just posted was displayed on the screen. Her own phone suddenly vibrated inside her jacket and when she pulled it out, she saw a notification that officialkillianjones had liked her new post.

“I came to see if I could find you,” he explained, which didn’t exactly clear up her confusion.

“You came to find me…from London? Did you Apparate here, or something?”

“No,” he chuckled, “alas, I’m only a Muggle. No, I’ve been in New York for a few days now, I’ve been auditioning for a new TV series and I just got out of a meeting at the production office over there when your post popped up on my phone.”

He pointed across the plaza at one of the office buildings that surrounded it and she followed the motion, registering what he’d just said.

“You’re auditioning for a new TV show? That’s great!”

Was that a bit of a blush on his cheeks when he ducked his head or was it just red from the cold?

“Yeah, the meeting was actually to tell me I got the part. It was this whole last minute thing, they’ve been trying to full the role for months but couldn’t find anyone they liked, and then when that scene from A Count for Christmas went viral they contacted my agent to see if I was interested. So, I guess I have your lovely town to thank for helping me land it.”

“Oh, wow. Really?”

Henry was going to flip when she told him. He loved all that behind the scenes stuff and would be so proud that it was Storybrooke’s very own movie that was responsible for Killian getting the part.

Heck, she was kinda proud too.

“Really,” he winked. “I’ll have to thank everyone else in person, when we start filming.”

He couldn’t possibly mean…? She met his blue gaze and saw how intently he was looking at her, as if gauging her reaction.

“Start filming?” she asked, “In Storybrooke?”

He turned a bit sheepish, reaching up to scratch behind one ear. “Yeah, they also told me in the last meeting that they just settled on the filming location and signed the contract. Apparently your mayor put together a very impressive and persuasive proposal last week. Frankly, I think they were too intimidated by her to say no.”

Regina had been in a suspiciously good mood lately, but Emma had chalked that up to Gold’s arrest and to winning the town gingerbread house competition for a record-breaking fifth year in a row. Legitimately, too, even she had to admit Regina’s gingerbread castle was pretty dang impressive.

“So, you’re coming back to town,” she said, slowly, and quickly added, “for your TV show.”

“Looks like,” he agreed. “For at least six months of filming. Maybe longer.”

Killian was going to be staying in Storybrooke for at least six months. The official coolest person ever to set foot in it, according to Henry, and the man she hadn’t been able to get out of her head was coming back.

“Good.”

The single word that fell from her lips grew between them in the air with the promise of something more, something new and unexpected and exciting. Emma didn’t know where it was going to lead, but she was willing to find out.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been nattering on all about myself and I haven’t even asked, what are you doing in New York? Is Henry here with you? His Halloween costume was incredible, by the way.”

She shook her head with a laugh, “No, Henry’s back in Storybrooke with my brother and sister-in-law. As for why I’m here, that’s kind of a long story.”

“I’ve got time,” he said. “Tell you what, why don’t I buy you a drink and you can tell me all about it. There’s a lovely little bar in the lobby of my hotel that does a great hot buttered rum. What do you say, Swan?”

She would say that hot buttered rum and a hot as fuck guy who was about to move to her small little town both sounded like Christmas had just come early.

“Lead the way.”

He offered her his arm like the count he’d played in the movie. She looped her hand through it and they started over to a waiting line of taxis on the other side of the square.

“What hotel are you staying at?” she asked.

“Oh, it’s the Plaza.”

Emma halted mid-step. He was staying at the Plaza?

“Seriously?”

Killian looked down at her, brows knitting together in a frown at her reaction. “Yes? The network put me up there, I understand it’s rather famous?

“Yeah, it is, it’s just, um, have you seen Home Alone 2?”

He made a face. “Once or twice when I was a child, I think. Now don’t go telling the Hallmark people this, but, truth be told, my deepest, darkest secret is that I don’t really like Christmas movies.”

Her shoulders silently shook with mirth, thinking of that interview he did post TikTok blowup where he’d absolutely gushed about them. He really was a damn good actor.

“Well, your secret’s safe with me. Although, really, they’re not so bad.”

The star on top of the Rockefeller Centre Christmas tree winked in the rearview mirror when they climbed into the backseat of a cab and started to drive away, Killian’s arm wrapping around her shoulder like it was meant to be there.

Yeah, Emma decided, Christmas movies were alright.

**********

Henry was thrilled when she came home for Christmas with both the most coveted Lego set on the planet and Killian Jones. He couldn’t leave the country while his work permit for the new TV show was being processed, and she wasn’t going to leave him all alone on Christmas.

David was less than pleased when she brought Killian over for Christmas Day dinner at the farm, although he hid it behind a smile and a handshake while Mary Margaret immediately fussed over their last-minute guest and Fandral the golden retriever ran circles around them.

Emma just hugged her brother and whispered in his ear, “This is payback for letting my ten year old son drive. Merry Christmas.”

[popentertainment-concertphotos]

Paul Russell – Jingle Ball Village 2023 – KIA Forum – Los Angeles, CA – December 1, 2023  

Photos by Larisa Jiao © 2023

[justtrashperson]

Possession - Fantasy Lads AU

.......

Just as he was about to retort back, he noticed something unusual about Brian, beside the electrified hair.

The veins on his neck were slightly more pronounced than usual, and the color seems a bit darker, but he can just blame that to the dim lights in the inn. Yet even if he tried to brush that off, he can’t seem to get the uneasy feeling out.

When he was about to point it out, Brian stood up and turned around, locking eyes with him.

.......

A fantasy lads fic woo. Here you go. It's not the best but yeah

AO3 version here

[WARNING: Slightly graphic descriptions of electrocutions, fighting and possession.]

[3650 words]

“Thank you for doing the commission! You can come back at any time, pleasure doing business with you!”

The bell on the door jingled as they went out of the tavern. Both of them let out a sigh that they had been holding.

“Feckin’ hell, we’re finally done with that commission,” Brian sighed as he pushed his messy hair back from his face. Daithi nodded as he put the bag of money from the commission work into his traveling bag. “That’s true, at least the pay is decent.” He patted the bag to prove his point as the coins inside made a slight jingle, muffled from the thick leather.

Brian stretched and let out a groan as he heard his back pop from the pressure. He shrugged as he walked along the roads of the town they’re visiting. “Eh, fair enough. I mean, that commission was fucking stupid as hell. Like, ���oh go to the mountains and retrieve a sword’,” He ranted, with Daithi listening and following behind.

“The sword wasn’t even this important thing. It’s a fucking old as fuck slightly rusty sword! Who would still want that?” Daithi chuckled at this as they went to the borders of the town and into the forest path.

“Well, if I’m quite honest, the people here are weird as balls,” Daithi shrugged. Brian barked a laugh at that.

As they went deeper into the forest, Daithi suddenly remembered a quite important thing. “Oh by the way, the other lads were planning to meet up in that one floral village next week,” He reminded Brian, who turned around and looked at him. “We still have a couple of days to kill. We can either go take more commissions in the next village or town, or just relax and camp out here,” He mentioned back, looking around the peaceful and calm forest. 

Brian hums as he raises his arms behind his head. “That’s true…” He trails off, looking up.

The forest was warm, it was still in an afternoon breeze. All of the trees shield them for direct sunlight, but enough to give some light to the surrounding forest. This scene reminded Brian about their first adventures together.

They had been traveling together for years, both meeting up in the forest near their hometown. The community in the village was warm and welcoming, and they had been helping everyone and one another there. They left the village not because of the community itself, nor was it anyone’s fault, but simply innocent curiosity about what the world around them looks like. They promised to their family and friends that they would protect each other and help one another, even if they would have arguments and constantly bicker.

Brian snapped out of that thought, very much not wanting to reminisce for a long time. They can just go home at any time, but for now, he’s quite happy and content with the adventures he had with Daithi and the other lads they met during it.

“Yeah, let’s go to the next town and get more money, so we can brag to the other lads about it,” Brian finally replied, giving Daithi a mischievous smirk. Daithi snorted at that and slightly hit him over the head.

“Ow! Bitch!” “Watch it now, the lads will ask you to pay for their stuff if you do brag. Especially Kevin.” “Fine, fine, let’s just go before it’s night.” .......

The sun was high up in the clouds, the rays shining through the curtains of their room, when Daithi finally woke up, or attempted to wake up. He had quite remembered what had happened last night, and he had one too many drinks that has now left him extremely hungover. He only remembers going to an inn with Brian and immediately passing out as he hit the pillows.

He groaned as he tried to blink the sleepiness from his eyes, and attempted to sit up on the bed. 

He looked over to the other side of the room, where Brian was supposed to be, but his bed had been tidied up and there were no signs of him anywhere. All of Brian’s equipment were also gone, which Daithi didn’t panic over since it might mean he’s already out there doing god knows what.

Brian had always been a bit more of a morning type of guy compared to Daithi, and he’s not complaining. So every time Brian disappeared in the morning, he wasn’t as worried as he was back then.

Daithi stretched, feeling his bones pop, and left the bed to at least clean himself up a bit before Brian came back.

Hours went by, until it was lunch time, and Brian was still not back. Daithi is getting a bit worried now, as he prepared some of his equipment, ready to go out and find his friend, before that thought was interrupted by the door slamming open.

There he was, Brian, with all of his glory, or what’s left of it anyway. His hair was a mess, some static electricity still lingering on his head, usually due to too much use of his power. He was out of breath, but very much grinning ear to ear when he saw that Daithi was awake.

“Holy gods- dude! Learn to knock!” Daithi yelled, trying to soothe himself. Brian only chuckled maniacally, before throwing a heavy bag of coins to Daithi’s bed. It slams into it with a heavy thud, the coins inside can be heard clanking against one another.

Daithi’s eyes widened as he took the bag and opened it. And as he thought, it was filled to the brim with coins. His mouth was agape as he looked at Brian again, who at this point was just grinning so much it started to feel slightly uncomfortable.

“I managed to find a very easy and very much worth it commission while you were out cold,” he explained as he closed the door and sat down on the bed across the room from Daithi’s bed. 

Daithi was still shocked at the amount of money he managed to get, and started smiling deliriously.

“Holy shit- You’re Not fucking with me Right?” “Nope, this is 100% fucking real.”

Brian giggled as he lay down on top of the bed and sighed. “What commission did you take?” Daithi asked him, which made him sit again to look his friend in the eyes.

“It was some stupid fucking commission if I'm honest, just had to get an item that was lost in the forest,” Brian shrugged it off. Daithi can’t help but feel slightly uneasy at the lack of detail but he brushed it off. 

“But why is your hair a mess?” He questioned again, this time tying the bag closed and sitting next to Brian. Brian groans at that. “Oh it wasn’t hard to find it, but there was already a creature there guarding it, and holy fuck was that hard as balls,” he said, combing his hair with his hand.

“But who cares! We can buy as much shit as we want now! We’re fucking set for the next few days!” Brian said, patting his friend on the back. Daithi tried to be cheerful, but he couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable. 

Just as he was about to retort back, he noticed something unusual about Brian, beside the electrified hair.

The veins on his neck were slightly more pronounced than usual, and the color seems a bit darker, but he can just blame that to the dim lights in the inn. Yet even if he tried to brush that off, he can’t seem to get the uneasy feeling out.

When he was about to point it out, Brian stood up and turned around, locking eyes with him.

“We should go camping now, while also going to that village that the other lads decided. We’ll have time to also go to caves and such.” Brian immediately goes on a rant about it to convince Daithi to come along.

He only sighed at his friends' antics and stood up, swinging an arm around his shoulders. “Alright, we’ll go. No need to act like an excited puppy, jeez,” He mocked lightheartedly. Brian jokingly acts offended at that and hits his friend on the arm. 

“How dare you, you will not regret it I swear,” Brian retorts back, trying to sound offended but the smile on his face said otherwise. Daithi laughed at this again and let go of him.

“Alright, alright, let’s go Mr. Making-money-while-I’m-asleep,” he playfully insulted. Brian rolled his eyes and walked out the door with Daithi following close behind. 

They paid for the room they stayed in and left the inn quickly, trying to find some food and supplies for their camping trip to the floral village. 

They finished doing business in the town around the evening, when the sun was slowly but surely going down. They exited the borders and went back into the forest, continuing on based on the map they got from one of the shops there.

It was a fun trip, there was bickering during it, some fighting when a dangerous creature decided to try and maul them, and distracting that Daithi almost forgot about Brian’s weirdly dark veins.

.......

As a couple days went by and the time they were supposed to meet the lads was closer, they hadn't arrived in the village yet. They aren’t far from that, but Daithi can’t help but notice the changes his friend has gotten during their trip there.

Brian was a bit more aggressive than usual, his powers almost striking him once or twice, at one point it was only a couple of inches off him that he wasn’t sure if that was purely a mistake or not. He had also been more distant to him, always isolating himself at night inside the tent they set up way before it was time to rest.

And the veins have gotten much, much worse. It was now a sickly dark color, almost to the point of black, and it had spread into the veins on the right side of his face. When asked about this Brian would always avoid the question at all cost. Dodging it and never bringing it up.

Daithi was worried for his friend, yet he doesn’t know what to do in this situation. But it hasn’t gotten much worse than that.

Or so he thought.

“Fuck, I think we’re lost.”

When the day they were supposed to meet the lads came, they were still not there yet since they had gotten lost in one of the more foreign forests that they have never ever gone to. Daithi wasn’t even sure why Brian suggested this path, when he knows that Brian has also never gone there.

“Brian, are you even fucking sure you know the way to the village?” Daithi tried to ask, looking at Brian who has his back turned on him. 

Brian didn’t answer his question, which made him slightly annoyed. “Hey, hey Brian, are you fucking listening? We’re lost right now and I hope you know where we are,” Daithi asked again, slightly raising his voice. Yet Brian still won’t budge or notice him or give him any sort of confirmation that he heard him.

Daithi was beyond annoyed at this point, but also slightly unnerved. Brian had known that Daithi didn’t like it when he got ignored without reason, so seeing his friend do this is slightly hurting him, but he won’t show it.

He pinched the bridge of his nose while grumbling a few curses, before trying to grab Brian by the shoulder.

But as he tried to close the gap, Brian hand suddenly grabbed his wrist, and held it, hard. 

“Wh-What!? Brian! Hey!”

Daithi was alarmed instantly and tried to move away, but that grip had him locked and Brian didn’t even flinch nor move. Daithi was even more scared now. “B-Brian, hey, you can hear me, right!?” He tried asking, yet no response came from the other man.

As his guards were down and he was panicking, suddenly Brian moved. He pulls out the spear he had on his back and-

Turns around and thrust it to Daithi’s chest, electricity crackling at the tip.

“What the-!”

Daithi was quick enough to dodge it and use that momentum to free his hand, moving back to try and distance himself, while also trying to collect his thoughts.

“Brian! What the fuck are you doing!” He tried asking, looking at his friend.

Brian stood in front of him, spear on one hand while electricity and lighting crackled around him. The area around them suddenly turned dark, as dark clouds started to gather on top. His eyes were piercing Daithi through his soul.

But the thing that made him realize this is not Brian is the veins. His veins were pitch black, pulsing off beat, which made him more fearful of him.

Daithi pulls out his scythe, holding it behind him, stance ready to fight.

“Brian, snap out of it! What the hell is happening to you!” He stated, trying to see if Brian is actually there under this, wretched thing. But nothing but a blank piercing stare replied to him. Nothing in that face of someone he had the honor to be friends with.

He didn’t want to attack him nor fight him. Like sure, they had some sparing moments and were close to physically fighting one another during their bickering, but he has never gotten the intention to actually hurt him. But here he was, face to face with something using his friend’s body as a vessel.

He took a deep breath and grumbled. “Well, if you’re not gonna leave him alone, I’ll be forcing you to do it.” Daithi stretched his hand, using his energy to call upon the roots, vines and stems of the plants around him. He moved his arm forward and the plants followed his direction at a rapid speed, coming onto Brian.

Brian quickly jumps out of the way, using the momentum to fly up into the sky. Daithi tried to look up to see what he’s doing. He raises his spear, charging it with the lightning and electricity from the dark cloud on top of him, and shortly descending into Daithi’s direction, spear in front ready to strike.

“Shit!”

Daithi barely moves out of the way as Brian’s spear misses him by a mark, and uses this to hook his scythe onto the spear handle and spin Brian around. He threw him to the nearest tree, which created a loud thud as Brian rapidly made contact with it. Daithi winced at the sound, mentally promising to apologize later on for the injury, but he got more important things to focus on.

Brian quickly stood up, leaning one of his legs backwards and pushing himself forward, running at a rapid speed into Daithi with the spear behind him, charging it with more electricity. 

Just as he was about to stab it into Daithi, he panicked and created a flash of light which blinds him, making him lose momentum and trips forward. He almost fell flat onto his face, but instead stabs the spear onto the ground, giving him support and turning him around to meet face to face with Daithi. Daithi was caught off guard with this.

The stabbed spear created a shock wave of electricity, and as it was about to hit Daithi, he quickly summoned roots upwards and used it as a stepping stone. He launches upwards and falls down, moving his scythe into an attacking position, ready to crash onto Brian.

But instead of hitting flesh or the ground, a clunk sound was heard, which surprised him, as the spear Brian was holding held back Daithi’s attack. Daithi instantly fought back, striking him as much as he could, trying to make Brian overwhelmed. But it seems like this Brian has also gotten some new powers, as he matches with the beat of Daithi’s attack.

One stab meets one block. One strike meets one defense. So on and so forth.

This goes on for a while. During this, Daithi tried to calculate his moves and see the weak point of his enemy. He watches Brian with such intensity, making sure he didn’t miss a single beat of the dance of death they got going on. 

Before long, he noticed that Brian mostly attacks upwards, leaving his lower body completely undefended. Daithi quickly made a move and tried to attack it, sweeping his scythe below onto his feet. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t calculate that Brian would avoid it by jumping over it. As he was caught off guard, a leg made contact with his chest, kicking him forward with such force, it threw him into a tree, his scythe slipping from the intensity. “Ugh!” The wind was knocked out of him as he made hard contact onto the hardwood. He slid down onto the floor of the forest, as he tried to cough up the blood.

Brian strides forward in such menace, electricity and thunder can be heard with every step he takes. He looks down at Daithi, and with one swift move, stabs the spear into his leg.

“AAAAGHH!!!”

Daithi screamed with such agony, his body locked up as long as the spear was still in his skin. He tried to move the spear away, gripping it with his hand, which didn’t do anything. He looked up with blurry eyes, trying to see the face of his friend.

Brian looked down onto him, eyes as soulless as ever, not looking guilty in the slightest as he sent shock waves after shock waves of such power into him.

Daithi's consciousness was slowly slipping, his eyes threatening to close with such sting crawling up his body, yet with some strength left, he raised his right hand forward, into a choking motion.

The vines on the tree he’s leaning on moves towards Brian, going around his neck, and quickly choking him. Instantly, Daithi moved his hand backwards which sent Brian forward, the spear slipping from his hand, stopping the torture and his head immediately making contact into the tree with a hard thud. His body fell lifelessly on top of Daithi, who was at this point exhausted, tired, sore and in pain. He took in some ragged breaths, before passing out.

.......

Brian slowly came back to consciousness, blinking his eyes to fully make him awake, before realizing his head was massively hurting, and groaned at that. 

“What…The fuck happened?”

He tried to move, but his hand made contact with a soft fabric. He looks below him to see Daithi, his brows furrowed, cold sweat covering his face, and very much unconscious. This sent Brian into a panic as he tried waking up his friend.

“Hey, hey Daithi. Hey.” He tried shaking him slightly, which didn’t seem to stir him awake. He got even more terrified. He shook his friend more. “Hey Daithi, wake up. Don’t scare me. Hey, Hey!”

This seems to do the trick, as his friend whined in pain, slowly waking up. He blinks his eyes, before looking at Brian.

“B-Brian?” His voice was hoarse, as if he just used it all up.

“Daithi, what the fuck happened?” Brian said in worry, voice going very soft. Daithi stared at him for a while, mouth agape, before a loud sob tore through him. He pulls Brian down into a bear hug, which stunned him for a bit.

Brian was going to say something, before Daithi cut him off. “Shut up. Shut up, you son of a bitch and let me savor this.” He said, burying his head on Brian’s shoulder. He didn’t have the heart to say no and let his friend hug him.

They stayed like that for a while, before Brian finally broke it off. “Okay as much as I enjoy this, what the actual fuck happened?” He asked again. Daithi wipes his tears as he prepares to answer.

“I don’t fucking know, but you were- you were possessed or something. You tried to attack me, and it hurts like fucking hell,” he said in full truth. Brian was horrified to hear that.

“Oh, oh my god. I-I’m sorry, oh my god it must’ve been that commission I did,” he replied in panic as realization dawned on him. Daithi just gave him a grunt. 

“Daithi, I swear I would never hurt you, I am so so sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t mean any of that,” he apologized, feeling extremely guilty for his recklessness during that commission that resulted in him getting possessed and hurting his best friend. 

“Hey Brian, look at me.”

He whipped his head forward, where Daithi reaches for both of his cheeks and-

Slams their heads together. 

Brian immediately staggered back in pain, holding his forehead which was now double sore. “Ow! What the hell!” he groaned in pain.

“That,” Daithi replied. “That was my payback for how fucking stupid and idiotic you are, you moron,” he said, glaring.

“Okay, I might’ve deserved it.” “Might’ve??? You almost killed me!” “Hey it wasn’t me! I was possessed like you said!” “Still you are fucking stupid for not taking care of your own safety!”

Brian glared at him before sighing. “Fair, I guess….” He stood up and took the abandoned spear back, putting it behind him. He lends a hand and helps Daithi stand up, taking his scythe and giving it to him.

“Listen,” Daithi spoke, making Brian turn towards him. “If you ever, ever need anything, don’t be afraid to ask. We’ve been in this rodeo together for years,” he mentioned to Brian. Brian looked at him and nodded. “Noted.” “Good.”

Daithi slung an arm around Brian’s shoulder, leg limping a little from the injuries. 

“Now let’s get back on the road because today is when we were supposed to meet the other lads.”

“FUCK I FORGOT ABOUT THAT-”

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super 065

This is the one with the Father-Son Gallick Gun and... nothing else. 

Literally, the first half of this episode is just Zamasu floating in mid-air while everyone reacts to how powerful he is now that his two selves have fused together. 

I mean, he shoots some stuff that knocks Goku and Vegeta around, and he wipes out a chunk of the ruined West City, which terrifies the Resistance group down in their subway terminal base, but none of it really amounts to anything.

Zamasu makes this big purple bird thing that shoots Vegeta with a lightning bolt, so that’s something, I guess.

Also he makes bad weather happen all over the world.   Here’s Kame House.  I guess Master Roshi is dead in this timeline?  He was alive in History of Trunks, but this is twenty years later, and I’d assume Zamasu managed to kill at least a few people during his year-long attack on this planet.

Also, Android 8 is still around, I guess.  No one from Jingle Village is with him, so I guess he’s alone.  No, wait, I think I see a few people in the lower right corner. 

So Goku and Vegeta attack in earnest, and I guess they manage to wreck that purple bird thing somehow, which surprises Zamasu, but he still blocks their attacks when they try to punch him directly.

Also it looks like he’s breaking their hands, so that seems like a big deal.

So Trunks jumps back in, and Zamasu breaks his sword while they fight. 

Then he goes for a Gallick Gun, but one of those special ones where he puts all his hopes and dreams into it or whatever.  This one’s for Yajirobe, and those nameless Resistance guys.   One of them sounds like Nappa in the dub.

And then Vegeta jumps in to help, and together they manage to push back Zamasu’s end of the beam struggle and hit him.  It just doesn’t do anything, so Zamasu fires back and Vegeta takes the hit to save Trunks. 

So then Goku gets his second win and fires his own big saga-ending blast, and that sets up another beam struggle.  Do you see why I hate this arc so much?  Like, all the other stuff I’ve been complaining about but it’s so damned repetitive.  They had three climactic battles like this, and every time there’s a bunch of big finisher moves being tossed around, and now we’re at the end of the final round and it’s all meaningless.  What was the point of the Father-Son Gallick Gun if it didn’t do anything, and Goku was just going to do his own attack to follow up?  What’s the point of Goku doing the same basic thing when it didn’t work like two minutes ago?  What was the point of Zamasu using fusion if this is the best he can do with it?  What was the point of wastin half the episode gawking at Merged Zamasu’s enormous power level when he’s still struggling against the same three guys he dominated before he fused?

This is why I liken this saga to the Shadow Dragons arc from GT.  In particular, the final battle with Omega Shenron is a lot like the fight(s) with Black/Zamasu/Merged Zamasu.  There’s not much in the way of strategy or fight choreography here.  We just have fighters doing stuff to each other, and none of it really works in the long term.  A character will take a big ki blast or a stab wound and sell it for a little bit, but then they just get back up and act like nothing’s wrong.  And it just keeps going because the fight is more about extending the arc for a predetermined number of episodes than anything else.  In this case, it doesn’t really matter what happens in Episode 65, because the saga has to keep going until Episode 67, so they just sort of spin their wheels until it’s time for one side to win.

Dragon Ball Super at least tries to lampshade this with senzu beans and immortal characters, but that only highlights the problem.  Goku Black is the one who wasn’t indestructible, but he still gets the crap beaten out of him and never seems any worse for wear.  Hell, last episode he stabbed himself in the hand and yet there was never any sign of an injury.  Vegeta’s been taking hit after hit after hit this whole time, and he’ll eat exactly one senzu bean in this round.  That happens next episode, so how in the hell does he keep shrugging off the damage he takes throughout this episode?

[sabrinasgallery]

★﹐sabrina carpenter: y100 miami’s jingle ball village (2017)．﹗★

[warpstonesorceress]

" As long as I can remember, rats always seemed to take a liking to me. Specially when I summon warpstone. There was this one time when I made that cursed rock appear on accident, and three chubby rats wearing bells around their necks crawled out from the alleyway and surrounded the stone. Goodness, they loved the stuff. One was super friendly and let me pet him. He was so adorable! I named him Jingles. It too bad they couldn't stay long. They had to leave. Ever since that encounter more and more rats with bells strapped around their necks followed me everywhere. No matter what city, village, or settlement I went to they were always there. I didn't mind at all though. The fuzzy puff balls made great company. "

. . . . .

" WAIT A MINUTE!!! ... HOW LONG HAVE YOU ROTTEN POTATOS BEEN STALKING ME!?!? I can't believe this! "