#also the fact that emma’s hands were gloved

[crime-wives]

sometimes i think about the fact that regina has literally held emma’s heart in her hands. the intimacy of soft fingers slipping under layers of skin and bone and blood and pulling out the muscle that keeps emma alive. cradled in the palm of her hand, glowing, still beating. regina having to be so gentle so as to not hurt her. and emma allowing regina to have that power over her. and then i think about the fact that regina’s fingers were bare and not gloved. the way she could feel every vein, every groove. the way she was not limited in her ability to see all of emma. something about the way regina handed the heart back to emma. placed it into the palm of her hand like an offering. look, i kept it safe for you, i love you, do you trust me?

[heartshapedbubble]

Ello can I request a Norton Fools good x fem reader where she came across the blown up mines and sees Norton (in his hunter form) she’s scared at first but starts to recognise him and slowly starts to approach him reaching her hand up to cub his cheeks ( bro this man needs all the love! )

HOO BOY i agree tho... his release made me regain my interest in norton🫡🫡

[not to be a scum but i'm still open for sanrio emma comms btw😭😭]

fool's gold: imagine...⛏️

cut for length!

paying the bills has become a hellish cycle. break your back to pay off the expenses, relax for the following twenty-ish days, and be sent into frenzy again, not knowing if you're going to have a roof over your head tomorrow or not.

you found yourself hopelessly skimming through newspaper, looking for any job offer possible that would easen up the burden on your wallet. The paper was plastered with offers from bars, post offices and restaurants, but those were a always gamble. will you get your wage or not? and if you will, when? too much effort for something so high-risk.

at last, a small offer in the corner of the page caught your attention. pressed in miniscule letters, it said: MINE RESEARCH. EMPLOYEES URGENTLY NEEDED. EQUIPMENT PROVIDED. underneath the text, an attractive number: $15,000 payed off immediately after the job is done.

not only could this solve the rent for the following 3 months, you'd also have some money left for yourself! you rang the number the second you got home and successfully scored the job, due to the urgency of the situation.

it took you a day or two to start thinking about the job. what do you exactly need to know for mine research? probably at least some physical strength and stamina, you thought. surely it can't be too complex.

you arrived at the mine right on time, the sun slowly slipping back into the horizon to let the moon take center stage. to your dismay, you realized no one else applied for the job. maybe this wasn't a good idea after all? crawling through the narrow, rocky terrain all alone doesn't sound like the ideal scenario. no living being in sight, and 20 minutes have already went by.

still, that money is way too good to pass up. you picked up one of the yellow helmets piled up at the entrance, prayed to whatever god out there that your flashlight has enough power to last the following 2 hours and mindlessly rushed into the collapsing mine.

for the following 10 minutes, your sight unfocused while your mind took the lead, in front of and all around you just rocks and grime, shadows dispelled by the flashlight held by your hip like a lance. only after a good 5 minutes of running did you realize that you, in fact, have no idea what you're supposed to do. what qualifies as mine research? mining, inspecting the ores, measuring the surface?

all sweaty and breathless, the tunnel led you to a large room inside of the mine, the roof extending towards what seemed like a pitch black abyss. carts messily thrown around, bumpy and unpolished geodes laying all over the place, when was the last time a living being stepped foot into this mine? it made sense that such a large sum of money was needed to attract volunteers.

you carefully moved through the rubble, trying to avoid stepping onto pickaxes and shrapnel splayed all over the ground. since you forgot about the gloves your bare hand now held onto the unpromising terrain, the other firmly squeezing the only source of light in this limbo.

the surface grazing your hand now seems like it became... smoother? no longer does it cut and pierce your palms. it's bumpy, but at least you're not risking an infection anymore.

moving inch by inch in fear of falling, the stone below changes its form. you don't even pay attention to the fact that you're now grabbing onto cloth and that, below your palm, a steady pulse is faintly beating.

it's already too late when you realize that you're not alone, and the stone below you starts to take shape and morph until it extends towards the ceiling, now towering over you, slouched like a ragdoll.

complementing the cold shades of grey, a face emerges from the shadows. pale, with defined cheekbones, although malnourished. only his bust passes as human, as below his collarbones there's nothing but a mosaic of pebbles and boulders forming his torso, arms and legs. it - or he, perhaps - is breathing with struggle, coughs interrupting his wheezes here and there.

you feel a sense of dread overcoming you. you freeze on the spot, but he doesn't budge, either. lifeless except for the fact he's breathing and his heart ticks like a machine.

you draw back a step, and he lunges forward, seemingly still not used to this monstrous body of his. he could harm me with ease if he wanted to, a thought suddenly manifests in your mind, and with newfound bravery you inspect the cryptid like a sculpture. your hand grazes over his bumpy and unfinished hands, tugs at the remains of his clothes around his chest. he groans, in annoyance, you assume, but doesn't resist. you climb up a cart to reach his face, your fingers pinch his stubborn hairstrands, inspect the cavity in which his other eye once laid. in a moment of either stupidity or courage you roughly pinch his cheeks - they're cold to the touch, but it's funny how naturally does his intimidating face mush like a little boy's. kind of cute. after a minute of cooing to yourself two of his rocky fingers gently pinch your wrists and put them back to your sides, but his one foggy eye doesn't divert its gaze from yours.

perhaps the flashlight can last an hour more.. you've just began getting to know him, and the mystery of the mine and his origin still lay cold for you to discover.

[thewitchofbooks]

Cyril Rose ~ Facts

AN: I'm finally done with the important facts we know so far for both Cyril and Lucian, and since Cyril won, I'll post him first! Thank you very much to everyone who voted and to everyone reading this!

Warnings: All of the information is from the jp version of the game! Spoilers from Clavis' main Story, GW story sale bonus (detective), Clavis' 2nd birthday, Clavis' story events, Chevalier's 2nd anniversary winner party event story. Everything will be put under the cut:

The starting fact is his name. Cyril Rose was raised in a village in Obsidian, but when he joined the military, many said his last name sounded like he came from the country of roses.

Cyril and Clavis used to call each other "loser" when they first met during the war. Cyril did because he couldn't believe how someone can be like Clavis (putting his life on the line to save others, accepting everyone no matter what and a lot more), as well as how he could stay so calm during everything (but it turned more to teasing between them). Clavis was calling him a loser, because he didn't like how Cyril was ready to give up at that time and was able to help him regain his spirits and join Rhodolite's side.

Cyril is a very gentle and kind guy, but can also be funny with his snarky comments towards Clavis (something between two great friends)

Cyril calls Clavis an "idiot prince"

He has very bright red hair that are very noticeable and mentioned by other characters, (Chevalier, Sariel and more), including Emma.

Cyril doesn't have a lover (and Clavis made sure to remind him in the "Bittersweet Valentine" story event). Cyril told him to stop pretending as if he wasn't in the same position only a whole ago (Since Clavis' route released)

As confirmed in Clavis' 2nd birthday story, Cyril is a very fast runner and a very strong knight. He was able to run to the other side of the town with Emma in his arms (bridal style) and didn't stop at all (<- Emma was described "as light as a feather) and it was all to prank Clavis.) In Chevalier's 2nd anniversary No.1 story, we saw that he can match Chevalier in a sword fight, with fast and strong moves.

He knows how to help a woman get dressed and he can style hair buns, that look elegant and simple (Also from Clavis' 2nd birthday)

Him and Lucian are rumored as really good friends. It was said by Clavis, but he added that when they go out to drink, they're never seen sitting together on the same table. Also, Cyril was seen drinking grape juice while complaining to Rio and Emma about Clavis, while Luciam was most likely drinking alcohol (<-From the GW story sale bonus)

When that happened, he wasn't wearing any gloves (so he either took off his gloves because he wasn't working, or he doesn't wear any). He held Emma and Rio's hands in each of his, to guide them away from Clavis and he took them to Lucian's table.

According to Emma, his hands are rough from training, but very warm and safe.

Apparently, he tries every kind of new juice Clavis comes up with and that time, it was a new herbal juice (as punishment for sneaking from work). He didn't like it at all, yet he still drank it all.

They started bickering and while Emma was thinking that it looked like as if Cyril and Clavis were having fun, Lucian, after he used the mind reading skills he learned from Chevalier, nodded and agreed with her.

He is also very honest and loyal towards Clavis and the other princes (especially Chevalier)

He used to be just a third rate soldier in Obsidian, along with his friends Kai and Hugo. Hugo seems to be the youngest, since he uses honorifics to address Cyril (in the Japanese version). Cyril is probably the oldest of the three, or similar with Kai.

Gilbert wants him back to Obsidian, but Cyril refuses to betray Clavis, leaving Gilbert heartbroken.

The village where Cyril used to love was poor, but the situation wasn't as bad as the parts on the borders between Obsidian and Rhodolite, due to the corrupted nobles.

He is greatly respected by Chevalier, who saw his value. Chevalier knows his name, but prefers to use the nickname "Red head". Same with the others. Even Clavis understands that. Cyril also respects Chevalier, but he thinks he is scary.

He is the lead knight of the foreign affairs faction and he is the one training the knew knights (not the soldiers).

Chevalier trusts him enough to let him in his room and also casually speaks to him. Even though they were trying to keep it secret (them leaving their duties for the day and going for drinks), he somewhat talked about it to Chevalier. But Clavis was hiding in Chevalier's room, so he exposed them. That's why he made him drink that "juice" (<-GW bonus story)

In the "propose to you" story event (Clavis', which is coming soon in EN), Clavis and Emma were getting engaged with Chevalier as the witness. Chevalier didn't look up at them at all and only when they left, he looked at Cyril to answer that he wasn't staying and he was going home with a smirk (Clavis was sad/mad at Chevalier who wouldn't look at how beautifully dressed Emma was). Cyril called him a troublesome brother after he left.

Originally, he was mostly hanging out with Rio for said drinks, but when Emma is free, they let her tag along (<- The bar they go to is only for the court's servants, I'm pretty sure it's to talk about their employees at this point🤣)

Cyril knows that many little boys dream of becoming knights when they grow up, but he, himself, felt like the job he was doing doesn't have a purpose, because lately, he had only been collecting banana peels and cleaning after Clavis.

Just for this reason, Emma and Rio were thanking him for his hard work and looked at him as if he was their savior.

He also complains that the knights have to eat bananas all the time, but they don't keep them very full. He doesn't want to even mention the reason why they do that.

He has more than once said to Emma to use Clavis' wallet for expensive things.

Cyril actually gets very offended when he gets told that he is like a natural born knight. Clavis was the one who told him, when he was being "too sweet" towards Emma. Cyril warned him to never say that again.

He is picking up Clavis' lines. While I don't remember it being translated in the EN version of the game, in the JP this happened: (<- Clavis' route, when they met with the rebels at the borders)

Clavis:"I don't understand why they don't want to welcome such a beautiful man"

Cyril:"Please, stop saying that. It's not fashionable"

(The fashionable comment)

He is the same age as Clavis, so he is 29 years old!

AN: Thank you very much for reading until the end! I hope these facts were helpful! I personally recommend reading both ends of Clavis' upcoming proposal event for more Cyril content!

[ikemenlibrary]

Night and Light (Ikemen Prince)

Pairing: (mentions of) Licht Klein x MC (Emma) Summary: Nokto only wishes the best for his big brother on their birthday Word count: 1.3k A note from the author: Dusted the cobwebs off of an old fic I started over a year ago, just for a chance to share my love for the Klein boys on their special day. They really do just deserve the best.

Night and Light.

Nokto and Licht.

Two twins who lost their way at a young age. The push and pull between them impenetrable, no matter how hard the other tries.

And believe Nokto, he tried. 

There used to be no use getting through to Licht. Nokto’d make a dumb joke at a meeting between the two factions and look to his other half, hoping to see a hint of a smile on his face. He was always met with an even gaze and downturned lips. If he tried to bribe Licht to have a brotherly chat with him with a plate full of sweets, Licht would accuse Nokto of having an agenda and walk away after grabbing a custard pie. Nokto did have an agenda, of course. But, he really just wanted to get through to his brother. When Nokto was around Licht for too long, he just wanted to grab his older brother by his shoulders and scream that He was hurting too. They should bask in the pain together, and help carry each other's pain. Nokto also knew that doing so was no good; forcing Licht to listen to anything he’s ever had to say only resulted in the black cloud of doom over Licht’s head to darken even more, the thunderstorm brewing more intimidating than any enemy Nokto has ever seen Licht off to face on the battlefield. 

But with Emma, Licht was different. She embraced his darkness, she didn’t try to get him to snap out of it, instead offering to show him everyone who would miss him, if he chose to leave them. Show him the things he was missing, such as love and kindness and sunlight - all things Nokto knew his big brother deserved more than anything. It wasn’t as if Nokto hadn’t tried to offer Licht those things; Emma was just… special. She went about things in her own way.

Nokto adored his sister in law. She was everything both of the Klein boys needed and more. She showed them both patience while they both worked to rebuild their bond, clutching tightly at Licht’s clammy gloved hands and offering Nokto encouraging smiles when Licht wasn’t responding. Thanks to Emma, the relationship had slowly started to regrow between the twins.  It wasn’t without problems though, since Licht knew Nokto loved Emma in his own way, there was tension there when Nokto would mention her unprovoked if they were alone. Licht would get pouty, and it was adorable, and Nokto would laugh carefree like he and Licht used to do when they were children and tease Licht about the fact that he was too easy to rile up. Licht would usually march off at that point, to find Emma and bury his pouty face into her chest, which only made Nokto’s heart swell with even more love for the both of them.

If the light in Licht's eyes went out on that day when they were kids, Emma flipped on the switch, once again bringing brightness to his blood-red eyes.

Nokto was currently being led down the hallway by Emma, Licht at his side. She was pulling them along, blindfolds secured tightly around their eyes as she told them how she planned something special for the both of them. 

“It’s your birthday so you can’t tell me no.” She pouted, tying the blindfold around Nokto’s eyes. It was the late afternoon, Licht was also in the room, and Nokto could hear him shift his weight from one foot to the other.

“I think it’s the other way around, Ems.” Nokto noted, his signature lazy smile falling onto his lips. “It’s my birthday so you can’t tell me no.” And just to get a rise out of Licht, he added: “We’re already off to a pretty good start though. Never knew you were into blindfolding. Pretty kinky if you ask–” Licht smacked the back of Nokto’s head, earning a soft tut from Emma as she pulled herself on her tiptoes to press a kiss to her sweetheart's cheek. “No one asked you, Nokto.”

“Behave boys,” Emma giggled, pulling Nokto up off the side of his bed with one hand, enveloping Licht’s with the other as she pulled them out of the room and down into the formal dining hall.

Light filtered back into Nokto’s blinded vision as Emma’s gentle hands untied the makeshift blindfold. Sitting at the table along Yves, Jin, Luke, and Leon were all of the sweets and pastries either of the twins could imagine. Nokto glanced at Licht, and he looked torn between fleeing, and wanting to sit himself down and indulge in the confectionaries his beloved obviously put her heart and soul into making that night after Licht went to bed.

“So this is where you went last night,” Licht murmured into Emma’s  ear, his arm wrapping around her waist as he led her over to sit at the table. Nokto’s brother was the perfect example of a gentleman, pulling out Emma’s chair and tucking her napkin onto her lap as she blushed. Nokto thought it was adorable that no matter how long they were together, they still made each other blush like it was their first date. 

It made Nokto wish to have something like that someday. 

“Well, happy birthday Licht and Nokto.” Leon mused after Nokto had taken his place at the table as well. “It’s been a while since we had a birthday party here for one of us, but Emma insisted.”

“Yeah, aren’t you two a little old for this?” Yves, haughty as ever remarked, and Emma snickered at his expression. 

“You’re never too old to have a lady dote on you, in fact, the older you get, the better it usually becomes.” Nokto noted, nudging Emma with his elbow as Licht shot daggers at his brother and moved to pull her chair further away from Nokto. 

“Does that mean you have evening plans tonight, Nokto? Because if you don’t, I was thinking we hit up that one tavern in town. You know, that one where I met that lady?” Jin put his hands in front of him, miming squishing, which made Leon and Nokto laugh. Luke was sitting quietly, pouring a little bit of tea into a cup full of honey. 

“Sure, I’ll take you up on that. All my drinks are going on your tab though. Maybe you can find me a nice lady to bring back tonight.” Nokto bit into a dariole - Licht’s favorite - and the flavor exploded on his tongue. “These are really good.” “Thanks Nokto. I made them special for today since I know they’re Licht’s favorite.” Emma remarked, placing her hand over Licht’s bare one that was laying on the table. Idle chat from there ensued, everyone careful not to breach the topic of conversation of previous birthday, instead focusing on the present.

Finally, Licht wiped his face with his napkin, a satisfied look adorning his lips as he stood up. “Thank you all for coming to join me and Nokto for some tea today. It was nice. And... thank you for the birthday wishes.” A small smile crept up on his lips and Nokto had to stop himself from clutching at his heart and exclaiming how cute his little big brother looked at that moment. “And Nokto?” Nokto’s eyes met his mirror, and he felt a similar smile crawl onto his lips. “Happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday, Licht.” He raised his hand in a lazy wave and with their final goodbyes, Licht and Emma were gone. And as Nokto looked out the window of the dining hall, he realized that Licht really took the light with him when he left; the sun had set, and Nokto only hoped that the moon would glow bright enough tonight that there’d be enough light outside for Licht and Emma to make it wherever they planned on going. That thought was enough for him to shove back his chair, and meet Jin’s expectant gaze with his own as he nodded his head and followed their eldest brother out the door.

[lambergeier]

extremely basic but also vital dvd commentary request but last scene of the pacrim au prequel?

back on that grind. that ruining phoenix wright's life grind.

“Klavier, please, you’ve got to—” Klavier sits bolt upright when he wakes. Kaiju attack. No. What? No alarm, no intercom, no Kristoph. Ema Skye is by his bed, face red and swollen with tears, one shaking hand on his arm. He hasn’t spoken to her since she told him her feelings. He’s been trying to give her space.

i like to drop in little hints like the world is full of small, personal tragedies that you/phoenix will never know about bc every person's life is unfathomably large and rich beyond the scope of outside understanding. tragedy one: klavier really would have liked to go on that date with ema!

“Klav, please, I need you to come with me,” she gasps, scrubbing a hand over her sodden cheeks. “Ema?” he asks. It’s so late. One AM? “What’s happening?” “I fucked up. Klavier, I fucked up so bad, and you—you speak German, I wouldn’t have asked, except—”

tragedy two ema will blame herself for the failed drift test for a really long time lol

“German?” He’s not getting this quickly enough. Ema’s breathing is overfast, she’s close to hyperventilating. “I, Kristoph speaks it better than me.”

because klavier is barely conversational god bless. man who sincerely hopes duolingo will fix him

She shakes her head like she wouldn’t mind breaking her own neck. “No, it can’t be him, Klavier, please just come, I—”

when everyone but youuuuuuuu knows your brother has the worst vibes in the wooooooooorld. and you kinda know toooooooooo

skipping forward a bit here, sparse descriptions of tense transitions blah blah

“Ema,” he says, though she’s already pulling him forward, “Ema, I can’t be here. If you don’t—if Kris isn’t supposed to know about this—” He isn’t. It’s immediately, stupidly obvious. Blood pours from Wright’s ears and nose, his arms spasm around Edgeworth’s chest. Edgeworth is out, gone, eyes rolled back in his head and the noise of his breathing like a child’s whistle. Kris can never, ever know about this.

haha klavier definitely knows his brother can't be trusted 👍

one thing i intended, between this scene and the kristoph scene and the discussion of the gavins not their hitting their baselines, was to be like, okay this is the beginning of the end for the gavins. fic in which it's the beginning of the end for everyone, the gavins not excluded, and the end is going to be two really grinding, horrible years before apollo shows up. so, i'm working this out in real time as i type lol, that would mean this is the first time the thought ever crystallizes for klavier that he can't trust his brother. he's gotten by on denial for five years, but faced with All This, the truth will out! can't trust your brother!!

the starting premise of this fic, back when me and emma were just shooting the shit in the kitchen during lockdown 2020, in between writing in better light chapters was: klavier gets roped into miles and phoenix's drift test and it's the first thing he ever has to lie about in the drift. so, first thing alongside the fact that he can't trust his brother!! the two go hand in hand!

man this fic has bleak implications for the state of everyone's mental health in in better light lol

“Please,” Ema says. “Please.” She pushes, like a tide, and then he’s kneeling in front of the bloodied shape of his commanding officers. “Commander,” Klavier says in German, then tries again when it comes out as no sound at all. “Commander, she needs you to—” Ema tells him. “—She needs you to let go of the Marshal. He needs help. She says his heart—” Wright laughs, blood moving slickly over his teeth. One of his hands is jammed under the Marshal’s chestplate, his own glove and armor ripped off, his scarred forearm pulsing with movement. The other cradles the Marshal's gray face.

i published the fic then went back in like twenty minutes later to add "The other cradles the Marshal's gray face" bc it was suddenly intensely important that everyone remember miles and phoenix are in love. i think this was a wise decision. ignore how many times i use the word "pulsing" in this scene thanks

Klavier turns to Ema. “He says you have to bring the defibrillator here.” She’s pale, almost as sweaty as Wright. “What?” “He says the Marshal’s heart is already in—” he hadn’t recognized the German word Wright used. “It already stopped. He’s keeping it going.” Ema looks at Wright’s hand, pulsing against the Marshal’s chest. Wright speaks. “He says to run fast,” Klavier translates. Ema stumbles toward the door.

phoenix keeping miles' heart going was another thing that was in the outline from pretty early on. one must imagine that klavier is translating all this with very little understanding of what it means. this isn't how the drift is supposed to work right (<- please god)

“Commander,” Klavier says again, low, pressing his hands hard against his sides as the Marshal wheezes and dies and Wright, moment by moment, pulls him back. “Commander, I can’t—I can’t be here. I can’t know that this has happened to you. Kristoph is a friend to you but he’s not—” Wright cuts him off, another fat-tongued laugh. His speech is a mash of German and English, his scarred face palsied, blood thick in the slack corner of his mouth. “You’ll be fine,” he slurs, in a language unimaginable. “You'll be fine. I’m going to teach you how to lie in the drift.”

haha i'm no longer interested in writing fic unless i can end it with a direct nuclear strike. sorry what 12 years of ao3 will do to a mfer

OKAY!! ENOUGH OF THAT LINE BY LINE SHIT!! LET'S BREAK THIS THING DOWN!! HOLISTICALLY!!

so the fic is about lying the drift. in mine and emma's conception, that's accomplished primarily by lying to yourself, secondarily by ommission-lying to your loved ones so rigorously that you just Never Think about the lie unless absolutely necessary lol. phoenix does it in IBL, keeping from miles the knowledge of apollo's existence, and this fic is about like: oh he was lying about way more than that!

here, phoenix is lying about how bad things are and can get. he's actually super aware of how futile everything is, up to and including trucy going to college, but he lies about it! part of that is like, a natural personality-based distaste for pessimism, and another part of that is the knowledge that you can't just act like the world is ending all the time, even when the world is ending all the time. you gotta just keep trying to do your job, or else the world will just end faster.

which is a normal compartmentalization that people do, ofc, but phoenix has miles in his head every second of his life. and miles is fucking depressed lmao. even when he's not actively pondering offing himself, he's soooo fucking certain that he will somehow Be Dead within the next few years. so phoenix has to be the No It'll Be Fine Actually guy all the time! every second of every minute! which he thinks is fine and he can totally handle it! he's handled it this long already! no problems so far! but......perhaps there are problems so far.

i didn't want to do anything so strong as Drop Hints on the subject, and i don't think i did, but i am open to the interpretation of this fic that is phoenix lies to himself and miles so thoroughly that he destroys the drift test and disables them worse. again, not committed: i stand by me and emma's decision in IBL, which is that miles has to want to live for their drift to succeed (as much as a drift between two basically drift-incompatible people can succeed lol), so the test in this fic was never going to resolve anything fully. but i leave open the possibility that phoenix made it worse!

and then he gives the cancer to klavier lol. because sometimes when the world is shit all you have are stopgaps i guess!!

[exhaustedpirate]

parent for hire

here is the fourth chapter! enjoy! (also some bad news: I am going on holidays for two weeks so, I won't be posting during that period - the fifth chapter will be up on the 25th of September! I'm sorry!) If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know! As always, @kmomof4 is my saviour and I am starting a religion in her name, join me!

Chapter Four - Arendelle

word count: 13,205 words 

rating: Teen and Up

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

read on AO3 | prologue | one | two | three

"You failed, Huntsman."

The Queen's mostly elegant demeanor seemed to crack before his eyes. His heart in her hand was held in a tight grip, the pain constant even as he kept standing.

"I aimed towards the man, I didn't see the other until it was too late," he tried to explain.

"But, you're in luck," she interrupted. The drastic change in tone, as well as her wide grin, startled him. "Your mistake might just be my fortune."

"What?" 

"You better hope she dies, or you'll take her place," Regina sneered.

Still confused, he watched as Regina turned back to the mirror who replayed the figure being hit by the poisoned arrow time and time again. 

---

About a year after meeting Nemo, the Captain had let him sail the Caspartine alone. Killian had been flying supervised for a few months by then, observing for much longer, and the older man had felt confident that he was ready.

It had gone successfully, Killian focused on the helm and the winds, while trying to ignore his Captain's orders towards the other crew members. He was determined to do it right.

Killian remembered how his fingers had gone numb around the helm, his jaw clenched to prevent his teeth from chattering. He remembered the warmth he felt when Nemo had placed a heavy jacket over his shoulders - a heat that warmed his chilled body but also his heart. He remembered the care when Nemo urged a pair of gloves on his freezing hands.

But most of all, he remembered the hand on his shoulder that banished the cold.

Killian had witnessed first hand just how frigid the northern air could be when sailing up in the sky, but down here, trekking up the mountain, he could feel none of it. His blood burned hot with fear.

His coat was wrapped around Emma as her body slumped more and more over Henry's body on top of Roger. She spent more time unconscious than conscious now. Her mask had come off mere hours after she’d been shot, claiming shortness of breath. Once she could breathe a little bit easier, she made a mocking comment about the Lost Ones' sense of style, but promptly passed out before either of them could ask what she meant.

With her mask gone, Killian found himself often distracted. To be able to see her eyes, to witness the emotions she thought she was hiding reflected in their fetching green depths, had already been enticing enough. But now, to be able to see how her lips glistened as she ran her tongue over them, to be able to see how they wrapped around her words, was perhaps too much. And then there was the sharpness of her jaw, the soft skin of her cheeks, the way the cold made them redden and the way her nose matched. He tried to keep it to himself - now was most definitely not the time - besides the fact that she hadn't shown any interest toward him. 

It was easier to focus on the problem at hand when, without the cover of her mask, he was able to see the amber lines of the poison running up her jaw. When he could see how her eyes dulled. When he could hear the shortness of her breath.

Henry tried to use his magic to generate warmth for the two of them, successfully, but they were still tired, hungry. They had made only one stop since the beginning of their journey since Killian and Henry had agreed that they wanted to reach their destination as quickly as possible. Their rations had depleted earlier that day. 

Their one stop was two nights ago. Killian's feet were freezing in his boots and their last blanket was wrapped around his shoulders, his hand blue around Roger's reins.

Thankfully, Roger was accustomed to harsh weather and long journeys and provided a somewhat comfortable place of rest for his companions. He also seemed to be in touch with Killian’s concern. 

"How long until we get there, Killian?" Henry's voice was a mumble from under the weight of the blankets.

He took another glance towards the white landscape and, for a moment, he feared he was hallucinating due to lack of sleep. But no, the round boulders scattered over the valley were still there on his third blink.

"I think we're here."

Henry's head emerged from the mountain of blankets, his eyes shining with hope as he saw the valley. Carefully, Killian helped Henry dismount, intending to keep a slumbering Emma comfortably on top of the horse.

"Where are they?" Henry asked, looking around.

Killian took a moment to tuck a blanket around Emma, getting distracted over the small uptick of her lips. His fingers ghosted over her cheek.

"It's the Truest Believer!"

A voice echoing in the valley broke through his thoughts of the softness of Emma's skin. Killian moved quickly to stand in front of Henry, sword drawn.

The boulders began to stand - legs, feet, arms, faces appearing on all of them. As surprised as he was, Killian sighed, wondering how he would fight a dozen rocks with one sword and two days without sleeping.

Scattered exclamations filled the air before the rock closest to them, which was also the largest, urged them all to be quiet.

"My apologies, friends,” he said, addressing Killian and Henry, “My family is quite excited to see the prophecy come to life. I'm Grand Pabbie,” he said with a small bow, “Welcome to our valley."

"Rock trolls," Henry exclaimed in a whisper, now standing next to Killian.

"Please excuse our suspicions, many people have tried to harm the boy," Killian explained, grip still firm on his sword.

"Yes, yes, we understand." The patriarch stilled his approaching family. "You are safe here."

Killian looked towards Henry with an expectant look, having learned to trust the boy’s instincts by this point. Henry looked back at him with a smile and a nod. He was relieved, to be truthful, he wasn't in much of a shape to fight against boulders. Well, to fight at all.

He watched, still wary, as Henry took Grand Pabbie's extended hand, to the cheers of the others throughout the valley. Killian put away his sword.

A groan caught his attention and he moved quickly towards Roger to check on Emma.

"Grand Pabbie, you need to help us," Henry pleaded. "Our friend has been poisoned."

"Yes, of course. Could you bring your friend to me?"

"Killian-" Henry began, turning toward him. Killian nodded.

She was still unconscious, her skin hot despite the cold, dark orange lines reaching her eyes. His hand trembled, but no longer with fear, as he carefully pulled away the blankets surrounding her body. Killian eased her into his arms, holding her close. He slowly crouched on the ground, taking care to lay her down gently at the leader's feet. He didn't stand, wanting to keep close to Emma, barely feeling Henry's hand on his shoulder.

Grand Pabbie spared her the briefest glance before a grim expression took over his face. Killian's heart pounded in his chest.

"Yes, this poison is vicious,” he said. “Fortunately, it didn't hit her heart. Unfortunately, our magic is not strong enough to remove it. We-"

It was like jumping into the cold waters of the ocean, his heart stopping in his chest. "What?!" Killian's shout echoed through the valley. "Are you saying you can't help her?!" He stood quickly, ignoring his body's protests as he did.

"Killian…" Henry called in a quiet voice, his hand grabbing onto his arm. There was a taste of defeat in Killian's mouth, of despair.

"My friend,” Grand Pabbie interjected calmly, “that is not what I said. I said our magic is not enough to heal her, but with the Truest Believer's help, we will save your companion. You mustn’t lose hope." 

Later, Killian would feel guilty over his outburst. Later, Killian would apologize. Now, all he felt was the prickling of tears in his eyes. 

Aware of Killian's emotions, Henry tightened his hand on his arm, hoping to reassure him.

"I can help?" Henry asked as he took a step forward.

Grand Pabbie turned his attention to the boy, a wide smile on his face, leaving Killian to take deep calming breaths.

"Of course you can, my child. Come." 

Killian stood, eyes focused on Emma. He watched as Henry and the elder troll approached Emma's unconscious body. 

"This poison was created by nature. We must return it to whence it came, to create balance," he explained. He took Henry's hand and placed it over Emma's chest, while the other he placed on the ground. "Feel it, listen to it, and guide it." 

Henry nodded, determination glinting in his eyes before he closed them in concentration.

Killian took a step back, his hand clenched to his side. Hope and despair battled for dominance within him, threatening to drown him. He wanted to believe that Henry, under Grand Pabbie’s guidance, could heal Emma, but the despair in his heart over the threat of losing her too soon wasn’t so easily vanquished. Roger's breath tickled his face from over his shoulder. There were times the horse felt more human being than animal, and this was one of those times. His hand stroked Roger’s head, willing his breathing to regulate.

A glow surrounded Emma's body and Killian watched as the yellow liquid drained from her until there was none left. The dark orange lines that had covered her face disappeared with it and Killian could breathe again.

"Very good, my child," Grand Pabbie complimented, the other trolls cheering in response.

"Thank you," Henry breathed, sounding tired but happy. Moments later, his frown made an appearance on his face. "Why isn't she waking up?" he asked, echoing Killian's concerned thoughts.

The elder troll quickly placed his hand on the boy's arm. "The poison was very powerful, it took a lot from her. She needs to rest." 

Henry nodded before he looked up at Killian, who nodded in response.

"As do all of you," Grand Pabbie added, after taking a better look at the travelers. "Come, I know the perfect place." 

Killian cleared his throat. "All we need is a safe place to set up camp."

"Nonsense. You've traveled this far, you deserve comfort."

Killian wanted to reject the offer. He wanted to keep them safe, but not with strangers. But one look at Henry's posture, at Emma's still unconscious body, and Roger's clearly tired posture, prompted him to put his pride aside.

"Lead the way," he said as he took Emma back into his arms. He placed her upon Roger's back, silently pleading with the animal for just another few minutes of effort.

Killian led Roger by the reins once more through a path created by happy rock trolls on either side, as he followed Henry and Grand Pabbie.

He wasn’t sure how long they walked until they were standing in front of a cottage surrounded by snow. He’d spent the time focused on Henry's back, on Henry's voice as he introduced them to Grand Pabbie and explained what had happened to them, keeping his troubled thoughts at bay.

With a surprisingly gentle touch, the elder troll knocked on the door. A moment later, a redhead opened the door, a sharp sword in her hand. Killian quickly grabbed the hilt of his own, but he stopped himself when the young woman let out an excited exclamation once she saw Grand Pabbie.

The young woman and Grand Pabbie exchanged delighted hugs and proclamations of excitement as Killian took a deep breath, releasing his sword. The exhaustion pulled at him, but his mind stayed alert with his worry over Emma and Henry.

Before the redhead's excitement died down, a tall, white blonde haired woman entered the room. It was obvious she was also happy over Grand Pabbie's presence, but she expressed it much more reservedly than the other woman.

"Elsa, Anna,” Grand Pabbie said, pointing to each of them in turn, “these are Henry, Killian and Emma. They have traveled far and need a place to rest." 

"Of course, we'd be happy to help." The one called Anna smiled widely, with an especially friendly smile towards Henry, who smiled back in turn. "Right, Elsa?"

The white haired woman, however, kept her eyes on Killian. She seemed to be searching for something - trying to understand something, perhaps - he wasn’t sure, before she turned back towards Grand Pabbie. The elder troll smiled gently.

"These travelers wish you no harm," he assured her. “You have my word.”

Elsa nodded at his words. "Anna, can you take their horse to the stable?"

"Yes, yes!" She quickly placed a hood over her shoulders and stood in front of the horse. "Don't worry, friend,” she said, patting him on the nose, “you won't have to share beds with anyone." Anna chuckled at her own joke, Henry joining her. "What's his name?"

"Anna…" Elsa began.

"What? He must have a name," Anna justified herself before she turned towards Killian. "Right?"

A warmth filled his chest as he exchanged a look with Henry, both of them remembering the same thing.

"His name is Roger," Killian answered.

"A great name! Hi, Roger." Anna continued stroking the horse's head, who seemed to enjoy the attention. It seemed they were fast friends.

Killian patted the horse's neck, before easing Emma off of him. He looked towards Henry and the boy rushed to collect their things off the horse.

"What happened?" Elsa asked, her eyes focused on Emma.

"Our friend Emma was poisoned." Grand Pabbie answered her question directly but with tact. "You understand their need for rest."

"Yes, of course. Come in, please." Elsa urged them inside after a nod at Anna, who took Roger's reins and led him towards the stables.

"Thank you, my dear." Killian heard Grand Pabbie behind him as he moved toward the door. "I'll see you later." The sound of rolling reached him and he turned just in time to see a large boulder rolling down the hill.

He turned to Henry, who watched as well, an amused smile on his face. Killian tried to match it, but he wasn’t sure he was successful.

Elsa quickly closed the door behind them, urging them to follow her towards a room with a fireplace and a very comfortable looking bed. Although, to be honest, any bed would look comfortable to Killian at this point.

"You can let your friend rest here, while yo-"

"We're staying together," Killian interrupted her. "Please,” he said a bit more gently, “you must understand." 

"Yes, yes, of course." Elsa nodded. "I would want the same if it was my sister. We must keep the ones we love close."

Killian wanted to correct her, explain to her the nature of their relationship, but what would be the point? It wouldn't change anything about the fact that Killian wanted to protect them, needed to protect them. He wanted nothing more than to keep them close to him. Exactly as Elsa had just said.

"Do you have food?" Henry's question brought his wandering thoughts and his steps toward the bed to a sudden halt.

"Henry…" Killian chastised.

"It's alright,” Elsa assured them, “You must be hungry as well as tired." Elsa smiled, keeping her eyes on the boy. "I'll bring you some food. Please, make yourselves comfortable."

With a satisfied expression, Henry turned to Killian who could only shake his head with an amused smile. Regardless of his lighter mood, Henry still followed him closely as he placed Emma on the bed, quickly making sure she was comfortable. They fixed the hood around her head, unsure of how she would feel if she knew they had removed it without her permission. Still, Killian caught a glimpse of her blonde hair and couldn’t help the thoughts that filled his brain.

Thankfully, Elsa returned soon after, distracting them with the food in her hands. Now that they were safe and the adrenaline that had been sustaining him for two days was fading, Killian felt exhaustion pull at him. He sat on the bed while Henry rushed towards Elsa's offering. His back leaned against the wall as he eased Emma's head onto his lap, needing to keep her close. His eyelids drooped. It was impossible to keep them open.

"You must eat." Elsa’s gentle admonishment startled him awake and his eyes focused on the bread she held. He smiled and nodded in thanks, forcing himself to eat. She watched him for a moment before she nodded, satisfied with his progress and returned to the table where Henry sat.

It didn’t take him long to finish and he could stay awake no longer.

He had no idea how long he slept, but the sun was rising when he finally woke up. He had flashes of remembrance from the night and day before - something soft being placed behind him, a particularly loud laugh - but overall, he’d slept soundly since arriving. There was a weight on his side and he turned to see a sleeping Henry laying against his chest on the opposite side from where Emma's head was placed. His hooked arm was around the boy while his hand was settled on Emma's chest, over her heart.

He looked down to see her still resting, the steady beat of her heart under his palm reassuring. Looking across the room, he found it empty. The fire in the fireplace was slowly dying and he could see a cloth covered plate on the table.

Something metallic and cold on his thumb caught his attention. He wasn’t sure how he didn't notice it last time. His exhausted mind must have clouded his senses. It was his ring, nestled against her chest on its chain. He wondered when Henry gave it to her. 

Memories of strong winds and waves tossing him around in the midst of the wreck invaded his mind. Memories of being rescued by a kind hand mixed with the feeling of freezing cold and dimming green eyes were replaced by the warmth he felt now with his hand on her heart. He couldn’t help but believe that the ring, and thus he as well, had a hand in saving her.

He watched as her eyes fluttered open, his heart beating faster in sync with her own. Green and frightened eyes skipped around the cottage, trying to make sense of her surroundings before they landed on his. There was only a moment before recognition filled them and her lips parted on a sigh. Their hearts calmed as one.

"Thank you." He smiled, a small, tired smile but nevertheless, sincere.

"For what?" Her voice was raspy from disuse.

"You saved me…" She looked away from him for an instant, he saw her remember the attack. "You saved me," he repeated, wanting to make sure she felt his gratitude.

Her smile was demure as her hand slowly found his. Her mouth opened and closed multiple times and Killian felt his heartbeat pick up once more in expectation. A million thoughts that he couldn’t quite understand swirled in her eyes, probably much more than she wished.

Belatedly, he sensed Henry beginning to move by his side. A shout of surprise filled the quiet room when the boy realized Emma was awake. The bed quickly became a tangle of limbs as Henry excitedly climbed towards her. 

Their hands separated at some point and he immediately felt the loss. Loss that quickly turned to affection as he watched Henry grip Emma tightly, her eyes closed as her nose buried itself in his dark hair, a relieved and happy smile on both their faces.

"I'm so happy you're okay, Emma!" The boy's voice was muffled from where he huddled against Emma's body.

---

An earth-shaking scream echoed through the room as all of the non-magical mirrors shattered around Regina. 

"Huntsman!"

She needed not to yell for him as he had not left the room. But that's not what he was focused on - his eyes stayed on his beating heart in her hand even as she gestured towards the very much alive hooded woman in the mirror.

"She lives…" Regina's low tone was perhaps more deadly than her screams.

The Huntsman’s shoulders untensed. For so long, he had been at the Queen’s hand, he had hoped her evil hadn’t corrupted him. He was at peace, a life was spared in the woman’s quest for revenge.

Regina took no time squeezing his heart in her grasp, the pain bringing him to his knees. He tried to silence his pain, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.

Unexpectedly, a growl echoed through the room. The pain in his chest stopped altogether and his eyes opened. A familiar large wolf jumped toward the Queen, his heart falling from her grasp. It was only out of instinct that Graham caught the glowing red heart before it hit the floor. He rose to his feet and followed the wolf out of the castle before the Queen was able to return to her senses.

The evil queen’s enraged screeches echoed from the castle as they reached the forest.

---

Henry’s initial shout of joy brought Elsa and Anna into the room. Elsa was already ready for the day, while her sister drug her feet behind her, her face barely visible around the mountain of blankets she carried.

"She's awake, Elsa, she's awake!" Henry tumbled out of the bed, full of energy and grabbed the woman's hand.

"I can see that." Elsa smiled patiently as she followed him to the bed.

Killian stood from the bed, holding out his hands to help Emma. He couldn’t help but worry that she was still too weak. Her smile was thankful as she took his hand. He could swear his fingers felt electric under her touch.

"Emma, this is Elsa and her sister, Anna." 

Emma's hand left his and he clenched and unclenched his fist, hoping to hold on to the feel of hers for a bit longer. She smiled uncomfortably towards the two strangers.

"I'm glad to know you're feeling better," Elsa said with a smile.

"Yeah, you were sleeping forever!" Henry teased as he came to Emma's side holding her hand.

"Oh, I'm sorry…" Emma's eyes widened as she turned towards Elsa.

"No need to apologize,” the woman assured her. “It was our pleasure to help you." 

"Yeah, we don't really have any visitors," Anna grumbled, standing close to her sister.

"Oh…" Emma turned to Killian in search of an explanation, but he merely shrugged.

"Killian slept a lot as well," Henry informed Emma with an overly loud fake whisper. She turned worried eyes towards him as he scratched behind his ear.

It was obvious she wanted to say something. She probably wanted to chastise him for pushing himself to utter exhaustion. But it wasn’t as if he would have allowed her to suffer longer, simply so he could rest. But before she could, Elsa interrupted, clearly trying to appease the situation.

"You must be hungry."

"Yes!" Anna nearly shouted impatiently, prompting a laugh out of Elsa.

"I meant our guests."

"Oh, yeah… well… them, too."

Henry and Killian both joined in before Killian turned towards Emma. He was just in time to see her shoulders relax, her whole posture calming as he watched. The sisters, as isolated as they seem to be, were wonderful hostesses and made them feel quite comfortable in this new and strange environment. They shared a small feast with the newcomers. 

Henry quickly stretched over the table for a slice of a wonderful-looking cake. His excited lunge almost tipped over a glass bottle of water. Emma's fast reflexes managed to stop the wobbling bottle.

"Henry!" she scolded, her apprehensively tight lips visible due to the removal of her mask.

"Apologies, he's young," Killian directed towards the two siblings before turning a stern look at the boy.

"Yeah, sorry," Henry slowly sat back on his chair with a frown. "It just all looks so good." 

"Thank you for apologizing, Henry." Elsa gave him a soft smile. "But as you see, no harm done." 

"Here," Anna said, extending a big slice of cake on a plate. "You get the biggest piece." 

"Thank you so much!" Henry excitedly shot a wide smile towards the young redhead before diving into the slice in front of him.

"Thank you," Killian directed towards the sisters.

"No need to worry," Elsa smiled. "Your son has much better manners than my sister." Her smile turned teasing as she glanced at her sister.

"Hey!" Anna complained half-heartedly.

"Oh, he's not our son."

"They are not my parents."

"We're not related." 

Everyone spoke at the same time before silence settled over the table. Elsa looked between them, surprised, while Anna stopped with a fork in her mouth, glancing between them. Henry looked between Killian and Emma as the two of them tried to avoid everyone's gaze.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume," Elsa broke the silence with a calm expression. "I just thought…"

"We are on a quest," Henry began, ignoring the looks from the silent couple. "They are…” Henry trailed away, his brow furrowed, and looked at them, a question in his eyes. “Uh… sorta… my parents? Except, not really?" 

Henry's confusion broke the tension as Killian chuckled and Emma followed. Elsa and Anna followed their lead, relaxing as well.

"What he means to say," Killian said, ruffling Henry's hair who pushed away his hand even with a smile on his face. "is that we are on our way to take him to another realm."

"So I guess you could say, we are escorting him," Emma added with an amused smile at Henry.

Killian laughed, turning his head to Emma. While before he had considered her distracting with an uncovered mouth, he had no words now that he saw her smile. All he could think of was how he could make her smile again, how he could make her laugh.

"Grand Pabbie told us," Elsa began, her tone more nervous as she held everyone's attention, "that someone would appear at our door. Someone we would have to help and that would help us in return."

"Yeah, he told us of the Heart of the Truest Believer," Anna interjected with a mouth full of bread. 

There was a tense silence at the table. Despite Killian's trust of the Rock Trolls, they didn't know the sisters' intentions. He could see Emma hold on tighter to the knife.

"Grand Pabbie helped us heal Emma," Henry reminded him as well as actually informing Emma. "He knew about me."

Killian observed the two women in front of him at Henry's confession of possessing the Heart of the Truest Believer. He could see the confirmation of her suspicions in Elsa's face while Anna seemed to let her sister take control of the conversation, content to focus on her food.

"We assumed so," Elsa nodded, smiling reassuringly at them. "No one comes to our door besides the rock trolls." 

"What are your intentions with the Heart of the Truest Believer?" Emma asked, her tone formal even as he noticed her fist clench even tighter on the knife.

"We just want your help."

"With what?"

"Our kingdom," Anna answered, before looking at Elsa for permission. "We were run out of Arendelle by that stupid Hans." 

"Anna," Elsa said calmly, her hand over her sister's. "A neighboring prince with an inflated sense of his own importance used a power he didn’t understand to take our kingdom. And he succeeded."

There was anger and frustration in her voice by the end and he could swear the temperature in the small cottage dropped twenty degrees, chilling his blood and raising the hairs on his arms. Anna's hand clenched over her sisters and the room warmed instantly.

"You have magic," Henry interrupted the moment, leaning forward on the table. 

Elsa turned a look towards Anna who smiled reassuringly. The blonde then turned back towards them, both her hands turned up while her eyes closed. It wasn't long before small snowflakes began pouring from the ceiling. He heard Emma's sharp intake of breath and Henry's excited squeal. He was torn - he felt like he should be more worried over encountering another magic user, but the fact was, he was nothing but impressed at the show of magic.

"That is amazing!" Henry exclaimed.

Elsa grinned as her eyes opened. She closed her hands effectively ending the falling snow. 

"If you have magic, how did you lose your kingdom?" Emma asked with a frown.

"Have you ever heard of the tale of the Snow Queen?" Elsa asked.

The three of them shook their heads.

"Oh, can I tell it?" Anna asked excitedly, not waiting for her sister's answer. "She was an Arendellian Queen that had ice powers and used it to vanquish all her enemies, but she couldn’t control her powers and she hurt her loved ones driving her to madness. She was trapped in a magical urn to protect the kingdom." 

Killian and Emma couldn't help but look at Elsa, the similarities not lost on them. 

"She was said to have ruled before we were born," Elsa explained. "My powers caused a lot of apprehension at first from our people. But, I have control of them… my powers, I mean, and after I protected our kingdom from an enemy attack, they accepted me as their queen."

"How does this Snow Queen fit into all this?" Emma asked.

"The prince we mentioned, Hans, released the Snow Queen from her prison and took control of Arendelle with her by his side," Anna answered.

"Her power was too strong," Elsa continued. "We had no choice but to run."

"If you guys joined us, I'm sure we'd be able to defeat her," Anna concluded, looking at their visitors.

"Yes, we'll help you!" Henry interjected with a wide expectant smile towards Killian and Emma.

Magic. After a decade keeping as far away from it as possible, he had been thrown right in the middle of it. Not only was he traveling with magic users but he was also being thrown into a battle to save someone's kingdom from another magical being. What had his life become?

Henry took their silence as a negative response. "We have to help them!" His eyes were pleading as they looked between his two companions.

"It's alright if you don't want to take the risk, it isn't your responsibility," Elsa acknowledged.

"We'll help you." Emma took control, locking eyes with him. "They helped us, now we help them." Her tone was confident, her eyes matching the conviction in her words.

Killian nodded after a moment. "Cygnus directed us this way." 

Henry's whoop of celebration broke the tension of the moment as Anna joined him. Elsa shot them a thankful look and nodded her acceptance. He was sure this was the right thing to do, he just hoped he would live long enough to witness their victory.

---

After the meal, Elsa took Emma towards a separate room to bathe - both Killian and Henry agreed that she should go first. While she was gone, they took the opportunity to see Roger as they stored their things in the satchels. 

"Lad, I- I want to apologize for how I behaved during the journey. I-"

"I understand, Killian. You care for her, too." Henry looked at him with a smile as he stroked the horse's head.

Killian was speechless, but he couldn’t deny it. He thought he’d been more circumspect about his attraction to Emma, but he obviously hadn’t been if Henry could see it.

"I care for you, too, you know," Killian said instead, a subtle apology for his behavior at the table.

"I know that, too." Henry grinned, making Killian laugh.

"Go inside and bathe," Killian instructed, hoping for a few moments with his thoughts. 

Henry nodded, taking a step towards the exit of the stable before he halted. Without warning, Henry's body collided with Killian's in a tight hug.

"Thank you for taking care of us, Killian." Henry’s words were muffled against his chest as his arms wrapped around the boy.

"You're quite welcome, my boy," he replied, his voice quiet, full of emotion.

Henry turned a bright smile towards the older man before he rushed towards the cottage.

Maybe his situation wasn't as bad as he thought, even with the constant battles he was being volunteered for. Maybe seeing Henry's smile was enough. Maybe fighting alongside Emma was enough. Maybe he should admit that he cared for them. Maybe.

Roger's head bumped into his back, interrupting his thoughts. He turned to the animal with a smile.

"Guess it's time to play the hero," Killian smiled, patting the horse's head. "What do you think?" 

Roger knickered in agreement and Killian chuckled. Maybe it would all be alright.

---

Arriving back at the cottage, Killian found Anna and Henry in excited conversation, talking of their adventures and telling stories. Elsa and Emma were in much quieter conversation as they prepared provisions for the journey. They really were wonderful hosts.

Killian left them to their preparations and made use of the metal tub of warm water in the back of the cottage. After such a cold environment, the warm bath was incredibly comforting. After scrubbing himself down he donned his clothes and looked around the room. An assortment of scattered papers on a nearby table caught his eye. He shouldn't, he knew he shouldn’t… it wasn't his room and he definitely shouldn't look over personal items, but something drew him in, something he couldn’t explain.

Drawings. Some abstract, blue cold lines overtaken by red. Others clearly depicted a castle, a cold room, a summer garden with beautiful flowers. 

And then he saw them. Familiar blue eyes. Eyes set in a cold blue canvas, in warm red lines. There were so many of them, in different styles, in different colours. And then he saw his face. Clear lines on an old canvas. He could see every curl in his hair, the warmth in his blue eyes, the caring smile on his lips. After a decade without him, he was finally face to face with his brother - his brother as a young man, when they were still indentured, but perfectly recognizable.

Killian startled as the door opened, but he was much too slow turning his eyes towards the blonde woman. There wasn’t time to pretend he hadn't just been looking through her drawings. He didn’t really want to.

"I came to see if you were alright." Elsa's voice was quiet, her eyes stuck on the drawing in his hand, her hand still on the doorknob.

"Did you draw these?" His voice matched hers, unwilling to break such a delicate moment with accusations.

She took a few steps closer to the table, the door left a few inches open. Her eyes never left the drawing in his hand even as she stood on the opposite side of the table. She nodded.

He carefully put it down as if it would disappear at any moment.

"Who was he?" Killian asked her in a whisper, even if he already knew the answer.

"I didn’t know his name," Elsa answered. "That was my first drawing of him."

"Who was he?" he repeated, his voice more sure, more desperate.

"A long time ago, when I was much younger, I used to escape from the castle with Anna," she began, her eyes on the many drawings on the table. "We used to play by the shore. During the summer, I would freeze the water so we could skate on it. Anna loved it.” Elsa’s eyes were far away, lost in the memory. "One of those days of summer, my powers failed me. Anna was moving too fast and I couldn't keep up. She fell in the water. I screamed for someone to help, anyone. We couldn't swim, I couldn't help her. And then I heard someone jump in the water. I saw him reach my sister, bringing her to me. I pulled her into my arms, but she was having trouble breathing. I needed to take her back to the castle. I thanked him and he smiled. But before I could say anything else, someone shouted for him and he was gone.”

"Seeing the danger I posed to my sister threw me into a difficult time. My powers were out of control. The only thing that helped was to draw. I drew him, I drew all of this,” she said, motioning around the table. “That, along with Anna's help, brought back my control. I wish I could have thanked him."

Killian's heart was about to pound out of his chest. He remembered that day.

"He was my brother," Killian said after a moment of silence. He heard Elsa's sharp breath and felt her eyes on him but he couldn't take his eyes off the drawing, off his brother's eyes. "I saw him jump off of the ship. I was so confused, I couldn't understand why he would do that when he knew we would get in trouble.

"The Captain heard the splash and thought Liam was trying to escape… which was ridiculous… he wouldn't have gone without me," he continued, taking a deep breath. "I can still feel the dagger the Captain held at my throat. That was why he left so fast, he wanted to protect me. It didn't really work, though, we both got some thorough lashes that day."

"I don't understand."

"We were indentured servants all throughout our childhood and teen years," Killian explained. "The Captain owned us and he thought Liam was trying to escape."

"I-I'm so sorry." Elsa laid her hand on his in comfort.

"It's in the past, lass," Killian smiled a small, reassuring smile. "I never thought I'd see his face again."

They both took a moment to look at the drawing, letting the silence comfort them. Killian freed his hand to run it carefully through the lines.

"What was his name?" Elsa whispered. 

"Liam." 

"Liam." Elsa smiled. "That's a beautiful name."

Killian smiled back with a nod. He saw Elsa lick her lips in a nervous gesture and he anticipated her next question.

"What happened to him?"

Killian cleared his throat, hoping to control his emotions. "There was a storm. I was the only survivor."

He felt more than saw Elsa move around the table. Despite his efforts, there were tears in his eyes and he finally let them spill as he felt Elsa's arms around him.

"He would be proud of you, I'm sure," she whispered.

He couldn’t help the watery chuckle. "I hope so." 

An understanding smile passed between them as they backed away from each other.

"We're ready!" Henry's excited call from the door broke the moment. Killian caught a glimpse of dark green from behind Henry. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course, my boy." Killian smiled reassuringly. "Time for an adventure, right?"

"Yeah!"

The child was full of excitement as he returned to the other two women.

"You should have this." In Elsa's hand was the drawing of his brother. "And you can't refuse, I'm the queen."

Her eyes were full of the emotion from their conversation but a teasing smile lifted the corner of her lips.

Killian chuckled. "Of course. Who am I to defy royalty?"

She joined him with her laughter. He carefully took the treasure from her hand, looking at it for a moment before following the creases of the paper to fold it before placing it in the inside pocket of his coat.

"Thank you, Elsa." His voice was quiet but there was no mistaking the emotion behind his words.

She nodded in response. With a deep breath, she took a step towards the door. "They should be waiting for us."

"Yes, let's go." 

Leaving the room, he found the other women all ready for the journey. Anna’s sword was by her side, and as opposed to her sister, seemed to be a lot more prepared for the cold weather. He was saddened to note that Emma had put her mask back over her mouth, despite the fact that with the cold and possible battle before them, it would probably be much more effective there.

---

With their things already on Roger's back, they started walking back down to the Rock Troll valley. Apparently the news of their allyship with the Arendellian royalty had already reached their stone ears since their path was now lined with cheering trolls. Henry obviously enjoyed it despite the discomfort of the others.

Standing at the end of the valley, Grand Pabbie brought them to a halt before ushering Anna away from the group. Turning towards Elsa, she shared their confused expression. Those same expressions only became more pronounced when Anna returned without any sort of explanation.

"Let's go kick some princely ass!" she cried in response to their confused looks, as if the only thing the group needed was some motivation. 

Having no choice but to trust Anna and Grand Pabbie, they put the puzzling conference behind them and continued on their way. They could still hear the crowd of trolls cheering them on for a few miles after exiting the valley.

It wasn’t long after that they could see figures in the distance, the dark of their armor contrasting with the snowy landscape. The army made no move toward their small party, allowing them to approach. They’d obviously been expected. It only took a few minutes for them to arrange themselves at the edge of the improvised battlefield.

"I'm so happy you finally showed up!" A strong voice sounded from the group ahead of them. It came from the only figure on top of a horse, their red hair clashing against the gaudy crown he wore upon his head. Killian had to assume that it was the self-proclaimed king- former prince- that took the throne from the two women beside him.

Beside him, there was a woman dressed in a white dress, not suitable for such weather. It was obviously the Snow Queen and that she shared not only Elsa's ice powers, but her comfort with the cold weather, as well. 

Behind them, two rows of five foot soldiers stood with weapons at the ready. It was safe to say that Hans didn’t think much of the threat the displaced royals posed, not with the Snow Queen by his side, anyway. But Killian was confident, they had succeeded so far.

"We thought we'd give you time to look your best, Hans," Anna jeered from his side. "Looks like we should have taken a little longer… well, maybe a lot longer."

Henry tried to disguise his laughter with a cough even if he wasn't fooling anyone. Killian didn't have experience in military battles, but he was quite sure it did not involve throwing mocking remarks between armies.

"You think you're funny, but I am the one with the crown," Hans grinned as he sat up straighter on his horse. "And you aren’t getting it back."

"That crown looks stupid on your stupid head!" Anna shouted back with a satisfied grin, making even Elsa hide a laugh.

"You're at a disadvantage!" Hans' face twisted in anger. He probably expected to be seen as intimidating and was failing miserably. "You're going to lose!"

"Enough talking!" Elsa interrupted, taking a step forward. "We're taking back what's ours."

Killian obviously couldn’t see the faces of the soldiers through their helmets, but he had learned years ago how to read a person's body language. It had saved him many times over. The army behind Hans was uncomfortable, unwilling - they were being forced to stand against their true sovereigns.

"Close your eyes and feel the ground," Henry's quiet words towards Emma just reached Killian’s ears. "Feel where their feet stand on the ground and focus."

From the corner of his eye, he could see Henry reach for Emma's hand. Before he could figure out what was happening, a bright wave of magic passed harmlessly through their party. Once it reached the open field, it began to stir the snow on the ground, startling the enemy army. 

"Stand your ground!" Hans shouted over the rumbling sound the wave made as it approached them. 

Killian watched as the soldiers raised their swords in front of them and he saw the Snow Queen raise both arms in front of her. The wave of magic created by Emma and Henry passed by Hans and the Snow Queen harmlessly before hitting the soldiers. They all fell to the ground - completely immobile. Even if he didn't already trust Emma, he would know that it wasn't a deadly attack.

"I see you wanted to make the fight more fair," Hans grinned, kicking his heel into the horse’s side for it to begin moving slowly before turning back to the woman next to him. "Go on, show them what we can do!"

Killian's grip on his sword tightened as he watched the Snow Queen raise her arms once more. The tension rose in his allies as they prepared a defense. But no one could have predicted that from a tornado-like flurry of snow, a behemoth of a snow monster would stomp out, letting out a bellow that shook the ground.

"Why do they always have to bring out these mountain-sized monsters?" Killian bemoaned as he unsheathed his sword. He and Henry shared an amused look, even if the concern in their eyes tamed their merriment.

The monster was still for a moment, apparently awaiting instructions. Hans' face could only be described as victorious. He raised his arms up, triumphantly. 

Killian heard Anna gasp from behind him. Turning to her, he saw her wide eyes focused on Hans. Before he could ask her about it, Elsa turned to their group.

"Emma, Henry, keep the monster away from us. I will deal with the Snow Queen. Ann-"

"I will help Killian with Hans," Anna quickly interrupted, standing closer to Killian.

"I thought we were done talking!" Hans called with a grin towards the opposing group. He nodded towards the Snow Queen, and as she raised her arms, the monster began stomping towards them.

With a nod of acknowledgement towards the true queen, Henry and Emma began rushing towards the monster, white energy in their hands. At the same time, a beam of light blue magic exploded from Elsa’s hands directed towards the Snow Queen. It looked powerful and Killian felt their small circle tremble with the force of her magic. It should have been strong enough to overpower just about anyone, but unfortunately the Snow Queen was not just anyone. Her responding beam of white magic clashed against Elsa's, the trembling aftershock making all of them stumble.

Trusting Elsa to hold her own against the other magic user, Killian looked towards Hans. The wannabe king's face was almost purple with anger - clearly he had expected to win this battle with barely any effort. Killian suspected that his successful overthrow of Arendelle had gone to his head. 

"Killian," Anna approached him. "I need to get close to Hans, can you knock him off his horse?"

Killian smirked. "It would be my pleasure."

He gave a sharp whistle towards Roger. As he approached, Killian swung into the saddle with a practiced move. Hans, noticing his approach, turned his horse towards Killian. They both unsheathed their weapons as they neared each other.

The three-part battle roared in the clearing. Killian heard the growls of the giant snow monster to his left, and felt the ground rumble with the monster's every step. The air around them sparked with energy making the hair on Killian’s neck stand at attention, and the temperature dropped as the icy beams of magic clashed against each other. But he couldn’t worry about any of that now, he had to focus on his own part of the battle - Hans and the sword he wielded. 

Killian met Hans' attacks strike for strike, desperate to protect his companions. He had grown to care for the child and the hooded warrior, as well as for the young Arendelle royalty.

Suddenly, a snowball hit his adversary in the face, a shout of victory sounding from behind Killian. Surprise and then outrage replaced the frustration in Hans' face. Killian grinned, knowing Anna threw the snowball. Wasting no time, Killian kicked his opponent right off of the horse. 

Anna ran towards them as fast as she could as Killian dropped down from Roger. Acting fast before Hans gained his feet, he disarmed the usurper just as Anna reached them, her momentum when she slammed against Hans, sending him face-first to the ground once more. 

"Hold him down!" Anna cried and Killian moved quickly to do as he was told.

"Let go of me, how dare you?!" Hans' demands were ignored as Killian dropped a knee onto the man's back and held his wrists behind his back.

Killian looked towards the battlefield and was glad to see both Emma and Henry alive and well and their enemy reduced to half its size. Killian watched curiously as Anna reached for the false king’s wrist, ignoring his yells of outrage.

"Aha!" Anna exclaimed as she grabbed hold of Hans' right wrist. Killian watched as she unknotted a pale yellow ribbon.

"What are you doing?! St-" Han's shouts were interrupted as Killian pushed his head into the snow. Not for long, unfortunately, but enough to silence him for the moment.

In the silence, their attention was captured by Elsa and the Snow Queen. Their beams of magic had stopped, the older woman's eyes focused on Anna's hands - or more specifically, on the ribbon in her hands.

There was silence in the clearing as Anna slowly approached their enemy, her eyes on the Snow Queen's, whose focus was on the ribbon.

"I was told this was yours." Anna spoke in a soft voice. Killian noticed Elsa slowly following her sister, most likely hoping to protect the young princess.

Despite Anna’s non-threatening posture, a flurry of snow formed around the two women. He heard Elsa call for her sister. He wanted to go and help but he had to keep Hans in place. The defeated prince's mocking laughter was interrupted yet again by another face full of snow. He watched as Emma held on to Henry's shoulders keeping him protected from the growing tornado of snow.

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Anna stood, alive and well, her hands holding onto the Snow Queen's, who held Anna’s just as tightly, a soft smile on her face. 

Anna turned to them, her own smile wide. "I told you Hans would lose!" she announced victoriously, the Snow Queen trying and failing to smother a chuckle at Anna's comment.

His relief was like a weight off his shoulders as he watched Elsa embrace Anna, once her younger sister stepped back from the Snow Queen. But that distraction was all Hans needed to throw Killian off him and charge against the sisters, dagger in hand.

Magic flew but none hit their intended target, until finally a bright white ball of magic hit his arm, making him drop his weapon. The Snow Queen's hand was raised.

"I am the rightful king of Aren-" Hans screamed in fury.

Before any of them could do anything, Anna's fist connected with the angry prince, shocking him to silence.

"Knock it off, Hans." Anna grinned, shaking her hand from the contact. "You lost."

"May I?" The Snow Queen's voice was calm, even as she stared daggers into her former ally. 

Elsa looked concerned but there was nothing but confidence in Anna's expression when she nodded. They all watched as their former enemy raised her hand to Hans and froze him in place.

"Not to worry," the Snow Queen assured them, the tone of her voice regal and polished, "He will thaw in a few days." 

Anna visibly relaxed with the woman's explanation, and the rest of their company followed her lead. Emma even removed her mask.

"Then we should take him to the dungeons and warn his brothers of his prison sentence," Elsa said, a question within her crystal blue eyes.

"Oh!" Anna seemed to suddenly remember that there was information that needed to be shared with the rest of her group. "This is Ingrid, she's our aunt!"

There was stunned silence among them. The Snow Queen's smile was sheepish but emotional as she looked at the two princesses. Killian looked towards Emma and Henry, who seemed to be as shocked as him. 

Killian cleared his throat. "I'll just prepare our new snowman for the journey." 

"We'll help!" Emma quickly added, grabbing Henry's hand to bring him towards Roger. They all wanted to give the Arendelle women some space, even as they were insanely curious about the story behind Ingrid.

While Emma helped Killian drag the frozen Hans towards Roger, Henry moved toward the women instead, unable to contain his curiosity and listening to their conversation.

"Are you hurt?" Killian asked as he handed a rope to Emma.

"No." Emma looked at him, her eyes locking with his for a second before she returned her attention to their task. "Just tired. Using magic is exhausting." He couldn't help but chuckle. 

"Hopefully, we'll be able to rest after this," Killian said, holding up Hans' legs for Emma to pass the rope under. She smiled and his heart skipped a beat as he smiled back.

They made quick work wrapping the ropes around the block of ice. Henry, apparently having heard enough of the royal’s conversation, joined them jumping up and down in excitement, obviously not nearly as tired as Emma. Killian expected the boy to crash once the adrenaline was gone.

"Ingrid is their aunt!" Henry excitedly recounted. "Hans made a deal with a dark wizard to get control of Arendelle and they gave him control of Ingrid! Apparently, Elsa and Anna's mother thought her sister had died but now they are reunited! The ribbon was what was controlling her and Anna released her!"

"Breathe, my boy." Killian smiled.

The child finally took a break to breathe under the amused looks of Emma and Killian. They both moved to tie the ropes to Roger's saddle, the boy following behind, still too thrilled with their circumstances to calm down.

"But isn't it great?! A happy ending!" Henry continued, approaching Roger to pet him and feed him. "What about you guys? What are your happy endings?"

Killian's hands stilled at the same time Emma's shoulders tensed.

"My happy ending," Killian answered, his attention on Roger making sure all of their provisions were safe, "will be to finally get revenge on the monster who took my hand."

"Oh." Henry looked down for a second, a frown on his face. A weight descended on Killian's chest at having put the frown on his face, but he deserved the truth. "What about you, Emma?"

Killian watched as Henry looked at Emma, frown still in place but unmistakable hope in his eyes. He looked at Emma who kept her eyes on her already tightly-knotted rope, as she pulled her mask back over her mouth.

"I don't believe in happy endings." 

Killian watched Henry's frown deepen. Their words had made it clear that the adults' lives hadn't been idyllic and for them to have the same sort of hope Henry was able to foster effortlessly was difficult, if not impossible, but it didn't stop Killian from feeling guilt over crushing the boy's heart.

"Will you be accompanying us back to the castle?" Elsa's voice broke the silent moment, the concerned frown on her face showed she was aware of the tension. "It should be a day's journey."

Killian managed a small reassuring smile towards the blonde woman. "Aye, we would be honored."

"Are you sure you can trust her?" Emma's voice was firm, her eyes on their new companion.

"We can." Elsa's voice matched Emma's, tamed by the soft smile on her lips. "She's family." Emma nodded.

"Shall we go?" Killian asked, placing his hand on Henry's shoulder.

The child looked up at him and Killian attempted his best reassuring smile. He could feel the boy's shoulders gain some firmness and he nodded. It wasn't solved, he didn't expect it to be, but it would be okay. He lifted the boy onto the horse, taking his place next to Roger's head, leading him by the reins.

Killian watched, through the corner of his eyes, as Emma handed Henry a treat from their satchel - an olive branch of sorts, he expected - before joining him on the other side of Roger.

---

They walked through the afternoon. There wasn't a quiet moment during the journey with the high emotions and reunited family and adventures to retell. The sun was setting when they decided to camp for the night.  

They had found a nearby river to fill their canteens and shelter from the cold weather. The stars were high in the sky when they finally settled around the fire Emma lit.

Despite the earlier tension, Henry settled comfortably between Killian and Emma. They had huddled in front of a tree for warmth, justifying their close proximity as protection from the cold. Thankfully, Elsa and Ingrid really didn't seem to be bothered by the cold and there were more than enough blankets for everyone. 

"What is that?" Henry asked quietly.

Killian looked down to where Henry was pointing. His coat gaped open and the edge of the sheet Elsa had given him peeked out of the inside pocket. There was a smile on his face as he removed it. His eyes found Elsa's on the other side of the fire before the blonde returned to her conversation with her family. 

"This," Killian began, opening the paper carefully, "was my brother."

"The one that gave you the ring?"

Killian noticed Emma’s eyes on him as he handed the drawing to Henry, pleased to see him be as gentle as Killian had been, clearly understanding the drawing's importance. Emma subtly raised her hand to her chest, to the place he suspected the ring laid.

"Aye, his name was Liam."

"Wow," Henry breathed. "You have the same eyes."

Killian smiled. The drawing was as close to a perfect rendition of his brother as could be. They shared their mother's eyes even though Killian's face shape was closer to his father's.

"What happened?" Emma's voice surprised him, so soft he almost thought he imagined it.

But she was looking at him with understanding, like she already knew the story wasn't a happy one. Also like she was surprised she had actually asked the question.

Killian took a deep breath. It still hurt to remember and as much as he didn't want to retell it, he felt like Emma should know. He wanted Emma to know.

"We were aboard a ship during a storm," Killian began and his heart filled to the brim when he felt Henry inch closer to him. "Our Captain was a fool and forced us to keep on course. He believed the rumors about a jewel that you would find at the eye of the storm. All it did was kill everyone on board, I was the only survivor."

"You told me." Henry's voice was quiet, to match their quiet setting. "You said that Liam gave you the ring and that it was the only thing you had of your family."

He should have expected a question like that. Henry had been kind enough to not ask before when they spoke of the ring, but now, he wanted to share it. 

"Aye," Killian sighed. "My mother passed when I was very young. I remember very little of her, mostly her smile and her eyes and the lullaby she would sing us at night. And the ring on her finger."

"And your father?" Henry frowned, apparently expecting something equally as sad. Emma's eyes were downcast, obviously thinking the same.

"He sold us when Liam was around your age. I was a few years younger." Killian's tone was resigned, accustomed to the anger he felt towards his father. "That's why we were on that ship."

"But- But why would he sell you?" There was a clear tone of outrage and hopelessness in Henry's voice. That hurt more than remembering the people he lost.

"I stopped asking myself that a long time ago, lad."

"But he was your father." Killian's heart broke when he saw the shine in Henry's eyes.

The same expression, the same tone of voice, the same words - watching Henry now was like looking at himself as a child. How many times had Killian asked himself the very same questions?

"I know, my boy." Killian wrapped his arm tighter around the boy, trying to provide the comfort he had wanted back then. "My brother used to say that a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets. I choose to believe that my father's selfish ways got him exactly what he deserved. That's how I make my peace with it."

There was silence in their little huddle. He felt Emma's warmth closer than before; she had moved closer to them. Despite the heavy moment, he felt lighter with that knowledge.

"I never knew my parents." Emma's quiet voice broke the moment and Killian felt Henry's shoulders tense up again. "I was abandoned and ended up in Neverland."

"What's Neverland?" Henry whispered.

"They say Neverland is a paradise, a place where lost ones can have anything they can imagine." Emma's voice was bitter. "In reality, it's a jungle you can never escape from, ruled by a power-hungry demon."

"How did you escape?" Killian asked.

"No one ages in Neverland," she began, her eyes on the fire but leagues away. "That's what Pan tells you. But I started to notice how, when the other children began growing, they would disappear. So, when I came of age, I knew I had to leave."

"What happened to the others?"

Emma turned to the boy at his question at the same time Killian did, her mouth open in hesitation. They shared a quick look, Killian reading the truth in her eyes. He knew she was wary of telling the boy the truth and he didn’t blame her one bit.

"I don't know," Emma muttered in a half-lie. "They simply disappeared from the island."

"Is that when you met Tinkerbell?"

Emma sighed, glad that Henry dropped the subject. "Yeah, she helped me get out of Neverland and told me about you."

"So," Killian started, hoping to relieve the tension. "Is Neverland responsible for that fetching outfit of yours?"

Emma let out a surprised laugh while Henry frowned in confusion at the strange word. Her mask was off again, her hood loose on her head leaving hints of her blonde hair in view. 

"Actually, yes." Her hands ran down her sleeve. "We didn't have names in Neverland, we all looked the same. Pan kept us covered to keep us the same. He only wanted to see our eyes, we were to never let anyone see our faces."

In the subsequent silence, Killian thought about the times she had allowed them to see her face. The trust inherent in the action filled his heart. How did these two strangers become so important to him?

"How did you know your name was Emma, then?"

Emma smiled at the boy's question. She opened the satchel by her side, removing something small and soft and weathered. "Because of this."

She opened the torn piece of a blanket on her lap, her thumb caressing the embroidery of her name in purple yarn. "I have had this with me since I was a baby, the only thing my parents gave me. Tinkerbell saved it for me. We had to cut it so I could travel with it.

"All the other children had names of animals. Pan called me a Duckling when I finally joined the Lost Ones and when I grew up, I chose to be a Swan."

"And you became our Swan," Henry added, leaving Killian's side to stretch his arms around her.

Killian smiled, his hand caressing the boy's hair in pride. He watched as Emma's smile reached her watery eyes. Her arms went around Henry tightly.

"Thank you, Henry," she whispered, dropping her cheek to his head for an instant.

Their arms loosened around each other, neither ready to let the other one go. Killian watched as Henry licked his lip and kept his eyes on the piece of blanket on Emma's lap.

"I don't remember my parents," Henry said quietly. "I think I remember their voices, I think they loved me but I don't remember them. The fairies told me that they were gone but they never told me how or why. They just kept telling me that everything was as it should be and to have hope."

Killian frowned, Emma matching him. All this mystery behind Henry was catching up to the boy. He deserved answers. Answers neither of them were able to give him.

"I know that it isn't easy to have hope." Henry spoke in a low voice, his face hidden from them while his fingers gently caressed the tattered blanket. "Growing up with the fairies was easy and safe. I didn't have friends or much to worry about. These past days have really been a change.”

"I know you two had very different lives from me. I understand now why happy endings aren't the same for everyone, but," he continued, finally sitting up straight between them, his hands on each adult's arm. "I choose to believe that they are possible and that we will all live happily ever after. Even if you don't, I'll believe it for you."

Henry's eyes were full of determination and hope, the very definition of a Believer. There wasn't much either of them could say and he watched as Emma's eyes shone with the fire's light. Killian moved his arm so that he could hold the boy's hand in a tight grip and he watched as Emma did the same.

Aware that their emotional moment had an audience, Killian looked over at their companions. He should have known not to worry about their judgment of their scene because, as he did, he saw Anna had turned into a pile of blankets sleeping soundly between her sister and aunt. Ingrid and Elsa’s focus was on each other as they talked.

“I think that’s a new one, don’t you think, kid?” Emma’s voice brought his gaze back to her.

Emma had her gaze on the sky and was pointing with her free hand to a specific cluster of stars. Henry’s dark head followed her hand with his eyes, inhaling a surprised breath. Killian caught Emma’s eyes and she grinned at him, mischief shining in her green eyes.

“Can you tell me about those, Killian? Please?” Henry looked back at him with pleading eyes and the beginnings of a pout.

“Who am I to deny such a request?” Killian grinned, his fake put upon tone failing to hit the mark.

Killian sat back against the tree and his smile grew as he felt Henry settle at his side with his eyes back on the sky. Emma mimicked Killian’s position, no longer hiding her interest in the stories he told about the stars.

He looked at the constellation Emma had indicated, trying to remember exactly what he had been told about that one. The stars formed two figures turned to each other. Its position in the Northern sky and the fact that they were upside down told him that the constellation belonged to the Enchanted Forest - the clear skies above allowing them to see them.

“Those stars tell the most famous love story of the Enchanted Forest,” Killian began, his arm on Henry’s head, running his hand through his hair. “It is said that decades ago, a princess ran away from her kingdom after her evil stepmother tried to kill her. She became a bandit who stole from the rich and helped her people. And her people helped her back - she gave them her love and provided for them and they gave her their loyalty and protection in return.”

“And then there was a shepherd who became a prince,” he continued. “After a deal made with a wizard, he took his late twin brother’s place as prince and was arranged to marry a princess from a neighboring kingdom.”

Killian made sure to keep his voice low, hoping to help the boy fall asleep. With his arm, he pulled Henry closer, so the boy could use him as a cushion. He felt the weight of Emma’s body on his arm as she had been leaning against the boy as well.

“They met when the bandit tried to steal from the prince’s carriage. It is said that she punched him on the jaw when he finally caught her.” He heard a breathy laugh from Emma and caught her eye with a smirk. “Did they live happily ever after?” Henry’s mumble from where his head rested made them smile.

“They went through a lot of adventures, fought villains and won, and when the bandit was cursed with eternal sleep, it was the prince’s kiss that woke her. Together, they defeated the bandit’s evil stepmother and became king and queen, ruling side by side.”

Henry’s hum was muffled by Killian’s chest and he turned to Emma, who was still looking at the stars.

“Is he asleep?” Killian whispered to her.

She turned to him with a smile before leaning forward to check Henry’s face.

“Like a rock.” She chuckled, Killian joining her. “You know how to tell a story.”

The corner of his lips rose as he looked up at the stars. “My brother used to tell me stories when we were young. He had to whisper them to me so the other sailors wouldn’t listen.” He continued running his fingers through Henry’s hair. “They helped me sleep so I hoped they would do the same for Henry.”

Killian turned to Emma to find her looking curiously at him. 

“I know I’m not part of some prophecy nor do I have magic,” he confessed, locking eyes with his companion. “But I care for the boy and I will protect him with all I have.”

She smiled. And that smile was new. It was a simple upturn of her lips that made his heart beat so fast he was worried she might hear it.

“I feel the same way,” she whispered, looking down. “He is a special boy and not just because of any prophecy.”

Killian nodded. When her gaze met his again, she appeared rattled, her eyes filled with trepidation and wariness.

“I should check our course,” Killian noted, looking away. He heard her sigh and decided that there had been enough heavy conversation for a night. “Do you mind?” He gestured towards Henry.

“Oh.” Emma reached over to lay a hand on Henry’s head, her hand brushing on his exposed chest and he was certain that the temperature had risen around them about ten degrees.

Taking a steadying breath, Killian focused on his satchel as soon as Henry was lying comfortably on Emma’s chest, his mouth open in sleep. Looking up at the sky, it was easy to identify Cygnus in the middle of the other stars.

He was glad for having the distraction of reading the star and on charting their course so he wouldn’t feel Emma’s gaze on him or on his hand.

“It’s pointing Southwest now, to Misthaven,” he announced with a frown. “It’s taking us back down the map.”

“Why is that so strange?”

“We’ve been to the Enchanted Forest before, that’s where our trip began.” He folded the map to put it back on his satchel. “I told Henry that Cygnus would take anyone to where they were meant to be. I can’t help but see the truth of that.” He nodded towards where Ingrid and Elsa still sat talking quietly.

“Do you think there is something that we need to do in Misthaven then?” Killian noticed how Emma’s arm reflexively held Henry closer.

“I think,” he answered with a reassuring smile, “that we have been victorious so far. If there is one thing I believe in, it’s us.”

“I was tasked to protect him,” Emma reminded him.

“And you will.” His tone was confident, sure.

“You think so?” Her voice turned softer. He heard the surprise and doubt in it and it pained him.

“I’ve yet to see you fail.”

Her eyes searched his. He saw the moment she realized there was no lie in them. His eyes landed on her mouth as she licked her lips, unsure, afraid.

“We should get some rest,” Killian said, hoping to relieve the tension of the moment. He watched as her shoulders deflated. “It’s been a long day.”

Emma nodded. They were silent as they both found more comfortable positions. Henry hummed in displeasure at the disturbance but relaxed soon after. With a nod towards the still awake Arendellians, they fell asleep.

---

In the morning, they were awakened by the sun shining on the snow around them. Killian found his arm around Henry and his hand on Emma’s side. She awoke with Henry comfortably nuzzled against her chest. There was barely any distance between the three of them.

Their eyes met over Henry’s head and he could see panic in her eyes. As quickly and subtly as he could, Killian moved away from them.

“It was a cold night,” he justified, hoping she would know he didn’t think anything of it. Even if the fast beating of his heart reminded him of how he couldn’t lie to himself.

“Yeah,” Emma whispered in reply.

They resolved to let Henry sleep a bit longer. As he stood, he caught Elsa’s eyes as she woke and looked between him and Emma. He tried to remain calm.

“I’m going to fill our canteens,” Killian said, clearing his throat when his voice betrayed his feelings.

“I’ll go with you.” 

Killian thinned his lips in consternation when he heard Elsa’s voice.

They were silent until they reached the river. Killian crouched to fill his group’s canteens before reaching for Elsa’s.

“I assume that,” Elsa began, “just as I was wrong about your relationship to Henry, that there is more than meets the eye about your relationship with Emma?” Her tone was non-judgemental and Killian focused even harder on the water, not meeting her gaze.

“We are simply allies. We want to protect Henry.” Killian’s tone was final but that didn’t seem to impress the Queen.

“That doesn’t mean that you don’t have feelings for her.”

Killian stood up with a sigh. “It doesn’t matter, we have to focus on protecting Henry.”

“Closing your heart isn’t the solution.” Elsa’s voice betrayed that her advice came from her own experience and his shoulders relaxed with that realization.

“We only met a few days ago and I don’t want to frighten her.”

“But you care for her.”

“I- We understand each other,” Killian confessed. He seemed to be doing that a lot. “She’s afraid and, honestly, so am I. As much as I care for her, I don’t want to pressure her.”

Elsa nodded. She understood, he could see it in her expression.

“We aren’t far from the castle. If we leave soon, we should arrive by lunch time.”

He nodded, glad she had changed the subject even as he regretted having to leave them.

“Our course has changed, we won’t be able to accompany you there.”

“Oh?”

“We are headed Southwest, to Misthaven to be more precise.”

Elsa nodded once more. “There is a port not far from here if you keep heading West.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” He bowed his head with a thankful smile. 

“Take care, Killian, I expect to see you and the others again.” He could only nod with a small smile while Elsa took hold of the bottles for her group. “Come, let’s tell the others.”

---

Henry wasn’t shy about sharing his displeasure. Their trio didn’t want to separate from the sisters. 

“But, we were going to Arendelle,” Henry pouted.

“Yes, lad, but we need to follow Cygnus, remember?” Killian’s hand on his head didn’t assuage his grouchiness.

“Yeah, I guess.” 

Emma and Elsa smiled at the boy’s dramatics.

“I trust you will be safe?” Emma asked, glancing briefly towards Ingrid, who’d moved away slightly to give them space, but then looking towards Elsa for confirmation.

“Yes,” Elsa answered emphatically. “We are getting our kingdom back.” 

“I want you to take Roger,” Killian interjected, even if his voice wasn’t completely sure.

“What?” All eyes turned to him in shock.

“Well,” he explained, scratching the back of his ear. “There is the matter of the prisoner,” he said, gesturing toward the still completely frozen prince, “and second, we’d have to come back for him.” 

Elsa smiled and Anna opened her mouth, as if she was going to start saying something before being stopped by her sister. “You three are always welcome in our kingdom.”

He bowed his head towards her. “Thank you.”

“We’re really leaving Roger, too?” Henry looked up at him, his pout even stronger.

“We’ll take great care of him, Henry,” Anna assured him, with a smile.

“Okay.” Henry still didn’t seem happy but he stepped forward to hug Anna, his arms tight around her waist.

Leaving Emma and Henry to say their goodbyes, Killian appreciated the space to say an important goodbye himself.

Reaching the horse, Killian patted his head, his forehead on the horse’s. “Be a good lad for them, alright? I will come back for you, I promise.” 

Roger nodded his head when Killian stepped back. His smile widened when the horse took a step forward to put his head over his owner’s shoulders. Killian’s arms went around the neck of the horse in a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered.

He felt a tug on his trousers. Looking down, Killian saw Henry look up at him. “Can I give him a hug, too?” 

“Of course, lad.” 

It was with a full heart that he watched as Roger did the same to Henry. “Thank you, Roger. I’ll miss you.” 

Henry’s whispers urged him to look away. He found Emma looking at him, her hand on the horse’s back. She smiled, an understanding smile that earned another in return.

They worked together to relieve Roger of the satchels, sharing the load between the two adults even as Henry insisted he could carry something. They ended up entrusting him with the water canteens.

With final hugs and goodbyes, they parted ways with the Arendelle royalty, hoping that they would see each other again soon.

“Where are we going now?” Henry asked from where he walked between the two adults.

“We’re going to Misthaven.”

---

"We are headed Southwest, to Misthaven to be more precise." Killian Jones' voice sounded from the mirror, even as all that was shown was the rippling blue sky overhead.  

"It looks like we have guests to prepare for, mirror…" 

Her grin was wide and dangerous, her hands curled over the balcony’s iron frame as she looked over her deserted kingdom, thoughts of revenge swirling in her head.

[atopvisenyashill]

are there any performances in HOTD that you find to be overrated or underrated?

i think we all know my feelings about rhys ifans lmao. i’ve certainly seen him in roles i liked him in but the man has no rizz and i do not buy that he managed to snow viserys that hard and that’s vital to the dynamic. the first scene where daemon smack talks otto’s wife is really good but every other scene is lacking in the SEXUAL TENSION where is the rivalry so intense it looks like they’re about to fuck or murder on the small council table. matt is putting in his best here rhys and you are slipping!!

i’m assuming i’ll be hunted for sport for saying this altho i’m hoping some people agree but i am very underwhelmed by ewan mitchell. for one thing, why does he look 30 while tom looks like 12. i wish they were less unserious about the ages of the younger characters. second of all i’m just. idk he’s fine?? i was ROCKING AND ROLLING with leo and ty and i was so whelmed by ewan’s switch up. he’s got good chemistry w phia and olivia & there are a few scenes i felt a bit struck by - mainly the street of silk scene & the lil slap fight when he finds aegon - but idg what everyone is screaming for. he’s not bad but come on. i feel like i’m being punked or something with how often people wax poetic about him aksjsj

underrated is paddy considine hands down. the fact that he didn’t win a single award and a few of those annoying golden glove people were like “i didn’t even watch the show” WELL YOU MISSED SOME AMAZING WORK YOU PRETENTIOUS FANTASY HATER. i think the fandom at large appreciates him enough but man the awards were so disrespectful to him. anyways.

i wouldn’t say anyone else is super underrated. i think everyone agrees the acting is a STEP UP from the last few seasons of got, so even tho there’s some insane fan behavior bc people can’t be normal to actors who play complex characters, i feel like everyone generally agrees they were all good? just my experience anyway!!

i will say i think some of the more minor actors are doing a good job at giving you a whole character in 2 second snippets - Phoebe Campbell, Jefferson Hall, Ryan Corr, Graham MacTavish, Phia Saban stand out to me - and the girl who played Dyana was amazinggggg. I also have seen some people say that Milly is a better actor than Emma, and like, idk about that lmao i love Milly she was great, i’m not trying to debate and say Emma is better I think that comes down to taste but I feel like some people got soooo attached to young Rhaenyra and then Emma didn’t really look the way they wanted and they got mad. Sucks to suck tho Emma is divine and also amazingly talented.

[captain-idkwhattodo]

The Quarry x Wednesday mashup

So I’ve seen all of ‘Wednesday’ and of course the first thing I think about is all of the hacketters as Nevermore students/ outcasts and what creature they would be!

So lets get started,

Kaitlyn

-nagi/naga🐍 (half human half snake)

-I’ve read that nagas are strong, beautiful, and proud creatures who have a semi divine presence. They were also often put on guard duty since they were powerful and I feel like that fits kaitlyn perfectly

-she would have 3 forms: full on giant snake (dark red scales w/a bright red under belly), half human/snake, and a humanish form. Her human look would have patches of scales on her skin, fangs, and snake eyes.

-she can use her eyes to bewitch people and mostly uses it on her friends to stop them from doing dumb things

-she can also swallow big pieces of food without chewing and uses that skill to freak ppl out

Ryan

-Witch🔮 (grandparents practices hoodoo)

-he would be a strong spell caster but I think his specialty would be potions/herbs and fortune telling/ card reading (def using the fact that justice smith can read tarot cards)

-has Wednesday vibes but not as cold but just as quiet. Also has visions but has to directly touch who/whatever so he usually wear gloves

-ironically, actually allergic to bright colors (except white). Like seriously allergic. He told the others this but they assumed it was a joke. Jacob would prank him by leaving pastel colored clothing in his bed. Ryan retaliates by throwing knives at his general direction (Jacob apologizes once he realizes his mistake)

Laura

-Jackalope 🐇 *A/N:I honestly thought they were real so this was a fun dive*

-the lore about them is that they are a powerful and dangerous adversary. They are very defensive, quick, and prefers to face their enemy head on. Leaving their victims bloody and with gouge marks from their horns. Basically Laura

-They could also be persuaded to come to ppl/captured willingly by being offered their fav drink: whisky (this is how her and Ryan became fast friends)

-she has two forms: her jackalope form (a blonde/brown 4ft long rabbit with 1ft long sharp antlers) and her humanish form (her but with 6in long antlers)

-has sent multiple ppl to the nurse for “accidental” injuries

Max

-a normie 👨🏻‍🦰 (you always need one in the group)

-I think it would be so cute for him to try and like look cool in front of the cute, tough girl who is also an outcast and just completely fail but that’s ok cause she’s into that

-he works at an animal shelter and that’s where him and Laura met

-Laura brought Ryan to meet him and by the end of their convo he’s just like “I’ve only know max for 10 minutes but if anything were to happen to him I’d kill everyone in the room and then myself”

-will throw hands if you talk badly about outcasts

Dylan

-werewolf 🐕

-has Enid vibes but has more of a soft boy/ gamer aesthetic and more sarcastic. Complete golden retriever energy

-is very tactile in a ‘little shit’ kinda way and scent marks his “pack” (with their permission of course)

-is definitely a “stoner” ;)

-has 3 forms. Full shift (looks more like the regular werewolves than hairless dogs), half shift (think ‘Teen wolf’ with the wolf features, sharp canines, glowing eyes, pointy ears, and sideburns), and human  

-is the one who’ll howl randomly throughout, causing others to do it too 

Abi

-psychic 🌌

-her powers would work be similar to how Xavier’s does

-she doesn’t have to touch anything to activate it. She will put out her notebook then call on a vision and draw what’s in it

-she can control it but sometimes they will come randomly, forcing her into a trance like state and draw on whatever’s available

-can bring her drawings to life. She has several tattoos that has her magic in it. They come move and also hop off her body if she wants it. If the drawing gets damaged too much then it poofs and reappears back where it was drawn

Emma

-halfling 🧚🏼‍♀️ (half fae, half human)

-like full blooded faes, she’s very beautiful and charming. Enchanting ppl around her (even through a screen). Unlike full blooded faes, she can’t out right brainwash a person. Just make them feel very compelled to do what she asks

-her ‘stage persona’ is still very whimsical/ airhead

-her other abilities are: super strength, because of her glamor ability she can read others emotions but can’t change them, and photokinesis (able to shoot and manipulate light with her mind) 

-in her fae form, her eyes glow completely white, her teeth turn razor sharp, and her fingers turn black and grows long claws on them

Nick

-siren 🧜🏼‍♂️

-wanted to pick something to go with the “puppy dog eyes/ steel BBQ grill under that shirt” comment. Also how Australia has many pretty creatures that can def kill you

-I feel like Nick is such a cool dude (when he’s not putting on an act) that everyone has had a small crush on him at some point. Some think he’s using his powers but no, he’s just like that✨

-his two forms would be: his human form (with bright blue and brown eyes color) and his siren form which has more of “traditional” siren look then what was on the show (his eyes go completely black, razor sharp teeth, and long claws)

-His scale coloring would be a mix of greys, whites, and blues

Jacob

-also a werewolf 🐕

-has Bernese mountain dog energy (saw a TikTok that said guys with this energy are basically himbos, the loudest one in the room without realizing it, and sometimes forget how large they are. Jacob to a T)

-also has 3 forms (full wolf, half shift, human)

-very tactile in a ‘big dog who thinks they’re small/ forgets their big’ way

[sw33theartnick]

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ i'm still here (jose baden x reader) ♥

hi! i took this oneshot from the book i have published on wattpad, i figured the jose enjoyers here on tumblr could also enjoy it as well <3

reader's gender/pronouns: non-specified (any pronouns/any gender orientation)

genre type: angst & fluff (hurt/comfort)

☁☁☁

You hummed softly to yourself, content as you strode the halls of the Oletus Manor. It was a beautiful moonlit night, one you planned on spending outside in the garden. That was your plan, anyway. Your boyfriend was off drinking with some of his companions; you were sure you were going to have to make sure Jose got back to his room. He'd be stone cold drunk by the time the night was over - that much you were sure about. Humming to yourself, you headed towards the garden doors, pushing it open delicately before entering, planning on getting your hands dirty and making sure those flowers were growing well! Well, you knew Emma was taking good care of the garden when you weren't in it, but nevertheless, you wanted to be as helpful as you possibly could. As much as you loved your first officer, you were not fond of alcohol, and drinking with him would not be an option for you. In fact, you much preferred taking care of him - as much as you didn't like how drunk he could get. After all, alcohol negatively impacted the liver, which could make Jose really sick, something you were worried about. However, this manor's magic was incredibly strange, and no matter how much Jose seemed to drink, Emily concurred he was in perfectly good condition. It made you wonder how the magic worked in this damned place, but you weren't complaining, not when it had been so helpful in keeping your boyfriend safe and healthy. Still, too much of something was no good, especially something that was so strong.

You headed towards the mahogany colored gardening closet, delicate hands grabbing a pair of heavy duty gardening gloves before slipping them onto your hands. The garden had a see-through roof, and you could look up and see the beautiful full moon standing above you, high and mighty, as it should be. Your teeth gleamed with joy, inhaling deeply before exhaling. Ah, the smell of dirt was one of your favorite scents - it was just so relaxing. The smell of earth was so relaxing, more specifically. Nowadays, you appreciated that the manor baron extended the boundaries one could go away from the manor, so you were left relishing in the long hikes around the area, mapping it out every time. It may have been the same land layout each time, but you never got tired of it. Stretching your arms out, you turned to gaze at the garden. What could you do on this lovely night? What did the garden need tending to? You could water the plants, as they didn't seem like they had been watered yet. Humming contently, you grabbed the water can before bringing it over to the hose, wincing at how heavy the can was, but nevertheless carrying it to the hose and attaching the end of the hose to it, filling the can up until it was full with water. Picking up the heavy aquamarine can, you began to water the flowers, the silence being rather comforting. In the distance, you were sure you could hear the birds chirping and chattering on this gorgeous night. In a way, you wished you could have spent it with Jose, but you were glad he was spending time with friends. Friends were important, too! Just because someone had a partner didn't make their friends and family any less important.

"Hello, (Y/N)!" you recognized the bright and fuzzy voice of the gardener, and smiled, (E/C) eyes lighting up in delight as you turned your head. You watched the tall, light brown haired woman walk in, skipping her way to you and looking at you with her bright green orbs. "What're you up to?"

"Ah, watering the plants," you responded, resisting the urge to give a sarcastic reply. You knew Emma always meant well, and she wasn't always the most observant, so you were happy to give a reply to the gardener. "Have you come to do some work in the garden, too?"

"I am! I might plant some morning glories! We just got a shipment of them the other day thanks to my father," the gardener began, "would you like to plant the seeds with me? They won't blossom for a little while, though."

"Oh! I'd love to," you beamed, eagerly nodding your head in delight.

"Let me go grab some gloves, then!" Emma piped cheerfully, skipping over to the closet. You watched with a lopsided smile on your face. Sometimes, you wished you had her energy, but a lot of the times, you were just tired and drained. Luckily, this was one of the times you had some energy to do something, so all was well. You were hoping it would last throughout your time planting the flowers with your beloved friend; Emma seemed quite excited to plant them with you.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)!" a voice exclaimed, one you recognized well enough by now. The urgency in the voice left you frantically panicking internally over what it could be, jumping and turning to face the person who barged into the doorway. It was Martha, the coordinator wide-eyed with her lips curved in a frown. "You gotta come with me, quick!" She shouted after nearly torpedoing into you, grabbing your wrist. Emma and you exchanged looks, and you gave her an apologetic smile, but she smiled brightly, nodding her head in it being okay. With that, you allowed Martha to practically drag you out of the garden, frowning and taking this seriously.

"What's wrong, Martha?" you questioned, astonished you could keep your voice steady with how much she was dragging you, nearly causing you to fall over once or twice.

"It's Jose!" the moment those words left the coordinator's lips, you were sure you felt your blood run cold, (E/C) eyes widening as you swallowed tightly. You didn't like the sound of that, and you were sure you could hear your pulse quicken in your ears. You were pulled quickly into the living room, and your eyes widened to see Jose on the floor, hands on the ground to keep himself up off the floor. Naib and Kevin were at his sides, and all you could hear was Jose's agonizing screams.

"(Y/N)...! (Y/N)...!" Jose's voice was slurred, hoarse from screaming, and clearly expressing how drunk he really was, but it didn't make your heart hurt any less. "I couldn't...! My love... is dead... I couldn't... save...!" Jose hiccuped, and you were sure your chest was aching now. You pulled yourself from Martha's grasp, tossing the gardening gloves off and nearly stumbling with how fast you ran to his side, Naib making room for you next to him.

"Jose...? Jose...!" you placed your hands on his shoulder gently, watching your strong man crumble underneath your touch, flinching.

"Dead...! Dead...! Dead, dead, dead...! It's all my fault...!" Jose's voice was strained, hands shifting to cover his head as his forehead pressed against the cold marble ground. Your hands were starting to tremble, and you quickly looked up at Naib, Martha, Kevin, and all of the others involved. Gulping down your saliva, you quickly decided that you needed to do something. Giving a head nod to Kevin, you carefully hoisted Jose to his feet with as much strength as you had (in the end, needing the cowboy's help).

"Come on now, (Y/N)'s alive and well," Kevin tried to reassure, turning to you and whispering, "we've been trying... so tell him that but he's so... out of it... maybe having him drink when he's sad isn't a good idea..." You shifted to wrap one of Jose's arms around you, nodding your head to the others before hoisting Jose off to his room, despite his weak struggles to pull away from you.

"No...! My (Y/N)... I need-" Jose stumbled, hanging his head with his eyes closed tightly, face tear-ridden. It ached you to see your boyfriend this way, and you clutched your eyes tightly for a moment, before looking and walking. You wanted to say something, but now wasn't the time, you were sure. Jose's wailing probably got the attention of even the hunters on the other side of the damned manor, and you were sure that if Jose was sober right now, he would consider himself ashamed. Only you were allowed to see his weakness and see through his weak states... everyone else just saw the care-free and easy going first officer. You saw the man for what he was under the surface - he was frail. Low self esteem paired with heavy abandonment issues and an even more intense fear of losing the ones he loved, well, that man was in shambles, and only you could really see all the pieces of glass that shattered from him like a mirror. You were as quick as you could, bringing him towards his bedroom. Once you had the key in hand, you unlocked it before entering inside, his room a mess like always as you placed him down on the bed gently. You went to lock the door and close it so no one barged in at the wrong time, putting Jose's key on the dresser near the door before going to bed. "My (Y/N)..." your name left his lips in absolute agony, tearing your heart right from its ribcage and stomping on it before putting it back. You swallowed tightly, looking at Jose.

"Jose... I'm not... I'm not dead," you said, voice straining as you placed your hands on his - both his metal hand and his human hand. "Can't you feel my warmth...? I'm right here." You whispered delicately, hoping your words would snap Jose from his frenzy. The sniffling Jose paused, looking at you with pained eyes.

"I'm so... drunk... h-how do I know... i-if your warmth is real...?" Jose whispered, shuddering as his heart felt like it was aching. You gulped. What were you supposed to say? What if what you wanted to say didn't work? You felt your heart race so violently inside your ribcage, and you resorted to hugging him tightly, burying your face into his shoulder as you choked down your own tears.

"... I'm still... I'm still here, Jose... you've never failed to protect me, not even once," you punctuated your words in hopes that it would get through to Jose, and your chest tightened. "You always make sure to keep me safe and you've always done so good at it... you're never going to fail to save my life and I'm never going anywhere, alright? I'm still here...!" You raised your voice, choking out a sob as you clutched onto the back of his clothing tightly, eyes closed tightly with your heart aching. You hoped your words could pull your boyfriend from his episode, but you remained as calm as you could with your hands trembling. Jose's tear-ridden dual colored eyes looked at you, as though you were a stranger at first, swallowing tightly. You watched his adam's apple bob, leaving you inhaling and exhaling quietly. Your chest ached and you found your hands becoming clammy at the fear Jose would've really thought you were dead. Slowly, you brought Jose's hands to your cheeks, and gave him a warm smile as tears dribbled down the corners of your eyes. "I'm okay, Jose, I'm okay." The first officer looked you over with wild and fear-filled eyes. His thumbs caressed your skin, only one being able to feel your soft skin. You hummed contently at his touch, melting to it. You kept your (E/C) eyes opened as you gazed into Jose's eyes, hoping to see some relief wash in them soon.

"(Y/N)..." Jose murmured your name delicately, quickly throwing his arms around you and burying his head into your shoulder, sobbing away. "My... my precious... you are okay..." Jose's voice was uneasy at first, and he reeked of pure alcohol. You swallowed down the urge to gag at the strong smell, mind tracing back to Kevin's words. Drinking while sad... was Jose sad? He seemed fine when you left him before... maybe something came up you weren't aware about - or maybe this fear was what was eating Jose away.

"Yes... I'm still here, Jose... I'm okay," you whispered, delicately running your fingers through his somewhat long brown hair. Jose's breathing was steadying and his sobs became quieter as you held him closer, knowing that in the morning, he'd wake up with a massive headache from both the crying and the alcohol he induced. Your words meant the world to him, and to your relief, you were able to settle him down quite quickly, relaxing him and consoling him to the best of your ability - which to your relief, was enough to help him through this.

"I-I didn't *hiccup* fail to save you...?" Jose whispered. You weren't sure what you needed saving from, but you smiled and shook your head.

"No Jose, you didn't fail to save me. In fact, you're always the best at protecting me," you shifted your hand to his shoes, having to lean down to do so, and removed them from his feet. You made him sit upright, undoing some of his clothes until he was in his last layer shirt and his pants, deciding he'd be comfier with less clothes on. "Let's get you some rest, alright? You're going to have a massive headache tomorrow."

"Mhm..." groaned the first officer, "I think it's already *hiccup* started..." You gave a weak smile before laying him down in his bed, only dressing him with one blanket so he wouldn't be too warm that it'd be uncomfortable.

"My poor Jose," you murmured, sighing softly, "here, I'll go get some pain killers from the infirmary."

"No need..." Jose pointed a weak hand towards the bathroom, "if I remember... some are in there..." You nodded slowly before going to the bathroom and grabbing the painkillers from the cabinet (after taking a bit to find them), before bringing them out to him. Of course, there was no way you were letting him take drugs after drinking - the painkillers would be for the morning only.

"Get some rest, okay, Jose? You've had a rough night," words as delicate as the touch of a flower petal, your (E/C) eyes gazed down at him quite lovingly. It hurt to see his eyes so tear-stained, so red and so puffy.

"Thank you... and... please... stay with me... (Y/N)..." Jose murmured, closing his eyes. He drifted off to slumber quite quickly, and you were relieved you were able to calm him down just as quickly as he had fallen asleep. Sighing delicately, you got into bed next to him, cheeks burning red. You loved your boyfriend dearly, so you were glad that he wanted you to stay with him. As much as you wanted to respect his space, you wouldn't dare deny him of what he needed - and he needed you right now. You felt Jose's arms wrap around you, and you were sure he always removed the metal arm, and maybe he should've - well, maybe you should've tried since he was in no state to do it himself - but you didn't do anything besides allow him to hold you close and tight. You hadn't expected him to hug you since he had already drifted off to sleep, but you were content here with him. Your own (E/C) eyes closed as you drifted off into a deep sleep; guilty for leaving Emma alone, but relieved that you could keep Jose safe right now. You were more than happy to have reminded Jose that you were still here and that you weren't going anywhere.

***

Morning came sooner than anticipated, and you were the first to awaken. You were sure that Jose would be waking up any second now, and you were left wanting to get up and get him a cool glass of water, but also struggling to leave his side. It didn't help that he practically clung to you, rendering you unable to move off the bed. A faint smile appeared on your face, gently stroking his dark colored locks. You were happy that he looked less... frustrated, and more peaceful, even in his sleep. Letting out a gentle exhale, you found yourself sitting upright as best as you could, Jose's arms loosely hanging around your waist now. Your cheeks burned a little from the intense blush on your face, but your smile remained radiant as ever. You hoped he would feel better from his fears when he woke up. Slowly, you carefully removed Jose's arms from around you, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and yawning. Ah, you'd forgotten to take your shoes off. You couldn't help it, though! You had been so worried about Jose's well-being that you completely forgot about removing your own shoes. That was alright - you would clean his bed sheets sometime later when he was feeling better enough to be out and about. From what you could see, there wasn't too much dirt on his bed, so it wouldn't have been too big of a deal, and you knew Jose would probably care less about you getting his bed sheets dirty, considering he would've done anything to have you in his arms.

Gently, you lifted yourself off the bed, yawning and stretching your arms out before going to grab a plastic up from one of Jose's cabinets before going to the bathroom sink. Typically, you'd probably be against taking tap water, but to your surprise, Miss Nightingale had reassured everyone that the tap water within the manor was perfectly clean. You had Luchino study if it was really clean and well, Miss Nightingale wasn't lying after all. It was the cleanest tap water ever, and you were astonished how that was even possible. After filling the cup up with some cold water, you went back into the bedroom to see Jose sitting up, holding his head and groaning. This caused you to rush over, placing the cup into his free hand before grabbing the pain killers.

"Good morning, Jose. Take these, alright? I'm sure you're hosting quite the headache," you stated firmly, eyebrows furrowing in worry a bit.

"Mhm... thanks, babe," Jose said through another quiet groan, taking the pain killers and chugging down the cup of water, placing it down on the nightstand before sniffling. He looked up at you, eyes filled with worry. "I... I can't recall what happened last night. My headache is worse than usual... I can tell it wasn't anything good." Your lips pursued, forming a tight and thin line as your throat ran dry. Did you dare tell him what happened? Lying wasn't an option for you, so it seemed you had no choice. You couldn't lie to your significant other, not now, not ever.

"You were... drunk, stone cold drunk," you began, sitting down next to him on the bed, "Martha was in quite the hurry to get me and when I came to you... you were sobbing about how I was dead and how you failed to protect me." You gulped tightly, feeling like the saliva wouldn't be able to pass down your throat with how tight it felt. You wish you didn't have to say such words, and it hurt to say them aloud. Jose paused, before giving the weakest of smiles.

"I guess I made quite the fool out of myself, then?" Jose questioned, shoulders slouching, "misery sure likes my company."

"You're not a fool, Jose," you placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. You rummaged through your brain, trying to find the right words to reassure him and make him feel comfortable and peaceful again. "You struggled and that's okay... I told you this last night but I'll say it again since you don't remember." You inhaled and exhaled before speaking further, turning Jose's face to meet yours. "You've never failed to protect me, not even once. You're strong and safe... you're the person I feel the safest and happiest around. You'll never fail me." You knew why Jose felt this way - losing your entire family was absolutely awful, but the feeling of being unable to protect your other loved ones was just as agonizing. Jose's cheeks brightened and he smiled, bringing your hand up to his cheek before closing his eyes, turning his head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand.

"... You always know the right things to say, my love," Jose murmured, "you're the best partner anyone could ask for, truly." Your cheeks brightened and you smiled, shoulders relaxing as you closed your eyes.

"Just remember... I'm still here," you whispered. Jose nodded his head, sighing contently as he wrapped his prosthetic arm around you to pull you close to his chest, the two of you enveloping in a warm hug. Neither one of you knew what the future was going to hold, especially considering the fact you two were most likely trapped in this manor forever, but that didn't change a thing. Through thick and thin, you would still be there for one another and one day, you hoped Jose would be able to be confident in himself, because he would always save you, and you would always save him. 

☁☁☁

hello guys! i hope you enjoyed the short story! this idea is very dear to me - everyone seems to think jose is this playboy drunk but i like to think he has severe self esteem issues and has a heavy fear of losing the people he loves due to losing his family. i hope you guys appreciate my headcanon for him, and i hope you guys enjoyed this short story!

[idohistorysometimes]

Wearing history: yet more issues I have with the Met Gala 2022 as a person who works at a Museum

For those unaware, I am a historical interpreter (for the gilded age), a reenactor, and I work at a museum. Not only am I painfully familiar with historical costuming by virtue of dressing in it every. single. day, I also am familiar with artifact preservation to some degree (mostly because when you work in a museum you learn why touching certain artifacts with your bare hands is bad). I have already made a post about how much the outfits this year personally offended me, but there was something in that post I neglected to talk about: the fact ACTUAL ARTIFACTS were being worn on the red carpet and the implications of such. So without further ado, lets get into this crime against historical preservation.

KIM KARDASHIAN AND MARILYN MONROE’S DRESS

In this photo, we are seeing Kim Kardashian wearing one of Marilyn Monroe’s famous gowns (specifically the one she sang “Happy Birthday” in for former President JFK). This dress was custom made for Monroe and it was so custom-tailored to Marilyn’s shape that she practically was sewn into it when she wore it.

The first issue I have with Kim wearing this dress was the fact that she wore it at all. In order for Kim to actually fit into this dress, she had to lose around 16 pounds in the span of 3 weeks. That is on average 5 pounds per week. This might not sound like a lot but keep in mind that in order to accomplish this you would have to heavily cut back on your caloric intake. So, starvation. Not only is this behavior very dangerous, this is also a sign of disordered eating. I am not saying that simply by wearing Marilyn Monroe’s dress that Kim is promoting eating disorders, but the fact she went through all this trouble to fit into a dress not made for her is concerning even though other options were available. 

The second issue I have was the fact she was even wearing the dress itself in general. 

From a preservation standpoint even though she only wore this dress for less than 10 minutes it still made contact with Kim’s skin, the oils secreted from her skin, and the elements in general. There is a reason that this dress is stored in a climate-controlled container and was only handled with gloves. Textiles are fragile and the chemicals within your skin and oils secreted by it can break down those fibers. I would also like to reiterate that this dress was MADE for Marilyn. She was sewn into it. It was made to fit her shape at that moment perfectly. It was made to fit ONLY her. Kim wearing this dress (in general) not only threatens the structural integrity of the dress (because keep in mind this dress is almost 70 years old) but it also it defeats the purpose of the construction of the dress. It is no longer just “Marilyn's dress”. Not only is the dress probably damaged (or at the least could become damaged), its also defeats the purpose of why the dress is so special. Its made to her skin, its made to her shape, its not made to Kim.

And finally, I am aware a lot of people are blaming Kim for this horrific publicity stunt. That is true, it is partly her fault since she has come out saying that she had no issues with this, wanted this to happen, and took steps to ensure this was happening. HOWEVER, Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Museum in Florida is the entity to blame here for a lot of this. This is mostly because they are the entity that RENTED out the dress to Kim and had the veto power to stop this from happening to begin with. However, they chose not to. Museums are not “artifact rentals”. You SHOULD NOT be able to go to a museum and be able to pay enough money to have personal use over an artifact for X amount of time. If you label yourself as a museum you should treat the artifacts your museum houses with respect, and dignity, and not as rentable products. Historic preservation does not just stop once money becomes involved. As someone who works in this field, I find the behavior of the Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Museum stupid, reckless, and most importantly cheap and stupid. 

Emma Chamberlain and the stolen choker of  Maharaja Bhupinder Singh of Patiala

In this image, Emma Chamberlain is wearing a very distinct ornate choker that does not really go along with her outfit that well. This is because this choker was not made for her or for her outfit, rather it was made for Maharaja Bhupinder Singh of Patiala, the ruler of Patiala from 1900-1938 by the Jeweler Cartier. 

The history behind this choker is important so before I actually bash Emma for anything let's just go over the facts of what she is wearing. 

This choker was created for the aforementioned Maharaja Bhupinder Singh of Patiala by the Jeweler Cartier in 1928. The necklace contained 2,930 diamonds, including as its centerpiece the world's seventh-largest diamond at the time, the "De Beers". That diamond had a 428-carat pre-cut weight, and it weighed 234.65 carats in its final setting. It is the largest cushion-cut yellow diamond and the 2nd largest yellow-faceted diamond in the world. The necklace also contained seven other large diamonds ranging from 18 to 73 carats, and a number of Burmese rubies. Even after Maharaja Bhupinder Singh of Patiala died the jewelry piece still stayed in possession of the royal family and was stored in the Royal Treasury of Patiala till 1948 (which is when it went missing). 

It is unknown where the piece was during 1949-1980 but the “De Beers” diamond resurfaced at an auction in Geneva in 1982 and was sold for 3.16 million dollars. The rest of the piece was found at a second-hand jewelry store in London by Eric Nussbaum (a member of the Cartier staff and the first director of the Cartier Collection). A majority of the original gems were gone at this point but the necklace itself was still intact. Cartier repurchased the necklace and restored it as much as possible to be like the original. The necklace has been tossed around a few times and at one point was even displayed in an exhibit called  "Maharaja: The Splendor of India's Royal Courts" at the Asian Art Museum which was organized by his granddaughter. 

At the time of the Met Gala, this piece was back in the possession of Cartier, its original designers. Ethicacy of this aside (because that is a whole other issue that deserves its own post altogether) let's look at the facts of the Gala. I've tried typing the next part out several times but it ended up being too wordy and too lengthy so the best response to why this is bad is this: it's colonized. The very fact Emma Chamberlain is wearing this at The Met is colonization. Others have put it better than I have but it gets damning when you remember the following: 

Emma Chamberlain is not South Asian nor does she have any connection to South Asia or the Indian subcontinent culturally

The theme “gilded Glamor” has nothing to do with this particular piece since not only was it constructed in 1928, but it was also not in a style victorian women would have worn (because it was not created for a victorian woman)

The monarch this belonged to lived in a territory that was, in the gilded age, subjugated by the crown under British colonialism

This piece specifically is widely thought to be stolen given the murky nature of its disappearance in the late 40s. We do not know how it ended up where it is now nor do we know the nature of its ownership changes before the 80s.

Do I think Emma Chamberlain is a being of pure racism and hatred? No. It is extremely likely she didn't even realize what she was wearing. But this is once again a collective failure of every person who was in charge of sourcing the parts of her outfit along with Cartier for even loaning out such a historic piece for 'personal celebrity use'. Not only is this a preservation failure because, as I mentioned before when talking about Kim, but oils on the skin are corrosive to older pieces. It may not be an instant "oh no, the choker just rusted through and died when I touched it" but with prolonged contact and use the metals it's made out of will tarnish and wear away. And along with that; a piece this old and this important should NOT be readily worn or allowed to be "checked out" for special events (especially since it was not Emma’s or Cartiers to give out).

Above all else, this historic piece needs to either be returned to the still-living family or given to a museum in India (specifically to one in Patiala) to be preserved and displayed there. The fact it's just floating about makes no sense and this should not even be an issue. 

Closing thoughts

I am aware once again that there are more pressing issues out there in the world and that this specific thing should not be the thing that breaks the internet and takes up all our time. This is because celebrities and events like the Met generally do not really matter all that much when compared to other world issues.

HOWEVER

From a preservation standpoint, both situations mentioned in this post are an example of what NOT TO DO if you are a self-respecting Museum, collector, or even a company in possession of any somewhat important artifact. Because yes, that dress and that choker are considered artifacts due to their historical backgrounds and statuses. And if something is an artifact: it should not be used as it was when it was not considered one. If you need to have something in a hermetically sealed container and have it only touched with gloves you should not be allowing somebody to wear the thing (especially when structural integrity is a concern). And when it comes to items with a more cultural context like the choker: when the origin, ownership and history of, and other such issues are at play should this artifact be worn and used outside of its context? And here is a follow-up question: Why is this specific artifact ok to use in informal contexts while other artifacts of a similar nature are not? Where are those lines drawn and why are they drawn that way?

These items are artifacts like it or not, and in this situation, they were very much mistreated via their inclusion in outfits worn to the Met Gala. Not only do they contextually and thematically not make sense, but they also SHOULD NOT BE THERE given their status as artifacts. Shame on Ripleys Museum and Cartier for allowing this to happen. And shame on every person willingly an knowingly involved in the procurment of these artifacts for the Met Gala. 

[sunflower1experiment]

Bride of the grave

Fem reader x Andrew

Nsfw (18+) KIDS GET OUT

Coming to the manor was a bit enticing, the first person to bombard you excitedly was Emma and Margaretha, Andrew watched shyly from afar then blushed at your shy persona as well: “I’m (Y/N), I hope we can get along…”

“I’m just your regular bridesmaid…” she then pats her wedding gown. “Always the bridesmaids but never the bride.” His heart tugged then the Gravekeeper walks over. “I-If you don’t mind may I give you a tour?”

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A tour around the manor didn’t seem so bad, if it weren’t for the fact that you practically beamed with: future bride or soon to be wedded… why and how did you get here? Andrew wondered that a few times while he played a match with you.

Your skill was to throw a bouquet and the hunter would chase it, another skill was to also play run away bride: whenever the hunter was close you’d grab your dress and run off.

Finally gaining the chance to ask you grew teary eyed, “My ex lover stood me up, so I left here to find someone else…not in that way but I needed money to get a home and help out..sadly I’ve been struggling.” That explains why you never smiled whenever you were happy there was no smile at all.

Andrew inhaled and prayed for you every night, but he also prayed that maybe just maybe you’d fall for him? Each night he’d mumble your name, then it soon turned from a like to a genuine love….

He was falling for you? A goddess he says, it was like you came here to bless him! That had to be it but the male shook that delusional idea away.

One day in the night he found you in the ballroom dancing in a costume the owner gave you. It was quite revealing to say the least but you had no choice but to manage, Andrew clutched his gloved fists…

That strange feeling he felt once was happening again and towards you? You’ve been in the manor for what a month or two? After those new survivors!? Finally you spoke, “Mr. Kreiss, I’m not one to be rude but are you alright? You seem…captivated.” He was…

Your beauty and your shy yet calm gaze was the final piece to making him confess, “(Y/N) I- I really like you and-“ you slowly frown but then he shook his head. “I want to know you, I need to see you safe and happy and….” He grabs your hands, “I want to be by your side!”

It was hard to digest, you saying yes and him confessing. He would hesitate to hold your hand while you had initiate the kissing: not that you minded it felt nice to be dominate. But as for first times, with him.

Neither of you knew what to do. It started slow, his hands carefully grazed your shoulders then his lips graze your own lips: quiet gasps escape the both of you while your clothes slowly came off, suddenly the sound of his quiet grunts and whispers filled your ears.

Your hands intertwined with Andrew’s while he bit your neck then pressed against you, it took awhile for him to actually move further. Andrew wanted to hear your voice, your soft yet shy voice: it made him want to just ravish you with love.

After rubbing and even teasing you by running his hands over your waist up to your chest he finally thrusts in, causing a soft yet loud whine to elevate from you. He kept it rough yet slow, as if wanting to adjust with you: this was a new experience for the both of you.

Yet your legs wrapped around his and you were practically begging for him to move faster, your quiet whimpers weren’t enough however. “Say my name~” he breaths, “An-Andrew-“ he kissed your shoulder: “Again, say it I want to hear you…”

“Andrew please- I need you.” That was all this man needed to hear before continuing. It was as if he wanted to mate with you, the sound of his grunted moans and your breathtaking voice practically filled the room. He didn’t care if others heard him but frankly no one would on account to how soft you both were.

He’d pound against you a few times then hold you close while you grip the bed sheets and gasped through the tears in your eyes.

Finally there was a long pause as he let loose, “M-May I?” You nod then blush madly as his seed covered your waist then your chest.

Biting your lip you were practically a blushing mess before him. Andrew caressed your waist, “Are you alright?”

“I-I wish to pleasure you- My love.” Your stuttering voice made his breath hitch as you push him back then got down on your knees.

Warm, your lips were warm and your mouth was just the aftermath yo the warmth: he wanted to cum immediately but held back, a few times his hips would buck against your mouth and you’d continue to use your mouth so perfectly.

It almost felt like this was all a dream, until you looked up at him while he gripped your hair. Andrew couldn’t take much more of this extravagant pleasure that was just so blissful, his body shudders a little while you felt him twitch.

So without even hesitating you start to swirl your tongue then place your hand on his as if telling him he could let it out: in your case he did, his breathing grew fast and heavy while he practically screws your mouth then he moans your name as he let out another burst of his warm seed.

When you both calmed down you held him to your chest. “It’s okay.” He couldn’t stop apologizing for going so rough, so you had remind and reassure him that neither of you got hurt. But you were sleepy, so the night was spent with you both sleeping together after a nice warm bath.

[senadimell]

Thinking about the dance scene in Emma. (2020) and once again, really admiring the choreography and cinematography, because after watching it the first time, I had no idea why it was as compelling and intimate as it was, but I could tell it was.

The obvious thing going on in the scene is the fact that neither Emma nor Mr. Knightley are wearing gloves, while everyone else is. However, the way this emphasis is conveyed is more subtle than just zooming in on their hands, though that helps. The choreography of the dance emphasizes a few things: hands, approaching, and then withdrawing. So there’s one early-on moment where the characters approach each other and hold up their hands without quite touching, and then withdraw. The choice was made to have the couples withdraw in turns, so while one couple is close, the others have pulled back, which allows for an alternating focus on Emma and Mr. Knightley. If you didn’t catch the gloveless thing the first time, you see it happen again, which helps the message sink in.

I don’t have the knowledge or trained eye to know what’s happening with the camera work, but it works very well.

Then, there are moments where all of the dancers put a hand together and turn. This is the first time it’s clear that everyone else is wearing gloves, so the first time we’re given that information is part of the “withdrawing” or “distancing” part of the dance, so it’s not super in-your-face (which. 2005 P&P is fun but it’s also not trying to be subtle). By the time it’s clear that this is not just an Emma or Knightley thing, but an Emma and Knightley thing, the characters themselves are beginning to cotton on to what’s happening.

Like I mentioned earlier, I didn’t even notice the gloves thing happening in my first watchthrough, but I subconsciously picked up on what they were getting at. I really appreciate that you can pick up on subplots in the dance if you’re looking for them (e.g. Harriet’s blissful, delightful smile and stare the whole time), but they’re also very second fiddle to the main event going on.

I don’t think this is unique to Emma., but I do appreciate their look of concentration the whole dance. There’s one moment where they both sort of notice what’s happening and lose rhythm of the dance, then rush away without leaving-leaving. Then they have to confront each other again, which feels much more appropriate than one moment of “ah, we get it now and we’re both okay with it.” After realizing what’s going on, they now have to live with that knowledge. After the dance is over, they just kind of stare at each other (and it’s really quite funny to me, because they give each other a very intense look but they’re also both a bit bothered. Like, “him?”  or “her??” Really quite funny.)

[awkward-gay-bro]

M-Day

Wanda couldn’t take it anymore. Her father and Charles Xavier were yelling over each other. Each man telling the other what she needed to do. Neither man talking to her. She was just a tool for their causes. These men were always telling her what to do. She couldn’t take it anymore. It was time for her to take the power back from these men in her life. And with a simple utterance under her breath, she did. 

“No more masculinity.”

In an instant the men behind her were gone. What stood in their place could hardly be called men. The years had faded from their faces, and the muscles had faded from their body. Their fighting ended as they locked eyes, seeing what the other had become. Wanda opened a portal in a blaze of scarlet red energy, and left her father and his friend, rival, and soon to be lover behind. 

It had been a year since Wanda Maximoff had changed the world. Some people had adapted to their new lives quickly, while others were still struggling to accept the new reality she had created. Bobby Drake was one of the few men that had been left unaffected by her power. He’d heard on the news they were being called the 198, apparently less than 200 men had been left unchanged.

As Iceman worked out in the danger room, his mind began to wonder through all of the people he once knew and what they had become. 

Rogue had told him what she found when she’d gone on the hunt to find Remy LeBeau. Gambit had disappeared the day it all happened, didn’t even give Rogue a chance to say goodbye. Just left a note saying he couldn’t bear to face her this way. She feared he’d return to his family in New Orleans, that he would return to a life of crime. So she made a trip to the Bayou, to confront him for leaving her, to let her know she didn’t care what he looked like. But when she arrived she found that the Thieves Guild had been disbanded. The Assassins Guild, too. It seems with all their men diminished, the warring had finally ended. Rogue was distraught that she couldn’t find her Cajun. 

She’d almost given up her search when she found herself at a bar. She’d grown weary from worrying and a drink was the perfect thing to cut the edge. Rogue chose the bar cause it looked  like it was mutant friendly, but she hadn’t realized how friendly. It seemed this particular bar had employed mutant bois for a very particular role. She’d watched a dozen or so of them walking around in skimpy outfits, offering to dance on the women who were patroning the bar. A swarm of the bois had surrounded the one member of the 198 there, sat in a booth getting his drinks and dances for free. But seeing a real man wasn’t the most surprising thing for Anna Marie. A skinny boy in a trench coat had walked out from the back, and the bois surrounding the man parted like the red seas. The skinny twink stripped off his trench coat and threw it to the ground, revealing a gravity defying pair of globes that looked comically large on his tiny frame. He dropped his hands to the ground and shot his ass to the air as he began gyrating his cheeks in the air. As his mounds danced hypnotically they began to build up kinetic energy, and slowly his leather pants began to glow brighter and brighter with a neon pink aura. The man reached out to touch, but before he could the leather pants exploded off of the twink’s frame, leaving his gyrating hips in nothing but a magenta pink thong. The man grabbed hold of the twink’s globes and slipped a hundred into the pouch off his thong. The twink took the man by the hand and led him into a backroom. Rogue didn’t see him again until the bar was closing, when finally he and the other man came back out to the bar. She kept out of sight until the bar was closing, the kinetic twink the only one there to close out the till. Then she came out of hiding, walked over and placed a gloved hand on  the twink’s shoulder and said, “Chère?”

Bobby had found out later that Rogue had decided to stay there with him. She was going to prove that what had become of him wouldn’t stop them from loving each other. He’d heard rumors that the both of them had moved in with the man from the bar. Gambit wanted the emotional love he could get from Rogue, but he needed the physical support he was getting from that man. 

Looking around the danger room Bobby was reminded of the first time he’d entered the Danger Room after the change. Bobby, Emma Frost, and Jean Grey were making their way down to the danger room with a handful of the remaining active duty X-Men. Emma and Jean had put aside their differences for the good of the team, with so many of the power players out of commission and Storm in Wakanda taking care of T’Challa, they’d become the defuncto leaders. It took them a long time to compile a team. With most of the X-men not really being men anymore, the team was predominantly made up of women. 

Bobby was one of the few men left unaffected from their former roster, which is why Emma had extended a hand to the all too giddy Wade Wilson. Deadpool had been so excited when the change happened, with him left unchanged his sexual options had expanded vastly. Most women were now without partners and excited at the prospect of any man, and even the burliest of men had now become cherubic and willing. Bobby was taken aback when they first brought Deadpool onto the team, but he quickly proved himself as a reliable asset, saving the day countless times. Of course, he’d also used the Institute as his own personal buffet. Bobby had walked in on him once with the barely legal Hellion and Elixir. The two former rivals had been pit against one another time and time again, but nowadays they spent most of their time trying to complete a common goal. Much to Wade’s delight. The merc with a mouth had justified it to Bobby by saying that Elixir’s biokinesis meant he could ignite every pleasure center at once while Hellion’s telekinesis meant they could do positions he’d never imagined. This wasn’t the last time Bobby had walked in on Wade’s excursions.  

Before any of that happened though, and before the team ever went on any missions, Jean had wanted them to practice. She knew that most of the team had worked together at some time or another, but they needed to make sure they knew each other’s powers and fighting styles inside and out before they ever stepped into a mission. So she programmed a rigorous series of sessions in the Danger Room so that they could be ready for anything they encountered. But nothing could have readied Jean for what she was about to encounter. 

Emma and Jean weren’t the only one’s who’d ended their feud after the change had happened, and they both had to come face to face with that fact at that very moment. When Jean had opened the door to the danger room, she found her former suitors writhing around on the Danger Room floor. She’d commanded that they stop fighting, when Emma placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a knowing look. They’d both dedicated years of their lives to Scott Summers, but it looked like he was finally done with telepaths trying to probe around in his head. Instead, he was living it up as Logan’s tiny cocklet probed around in...other places. 

Emma and Jean both fled from the scene, Wade running after the both of them. He’d told Bobby that they took out their anger on his body that day. But after that, they had both used his body for other reasons. 

The X-men weren’t the only team that had been shaken up by Wanda Maximoff did that day. Being one of the few unaffected superheroes of his power, Iceman had forged a strong new relationship with Nick Fury. Nick was in transit when the world changed, so he didn’t find out what had happened until he entered the Avenger’s Tower. 

And Fury had told Bobby in confidence what he saw when walked in. Half a dozen of the male Avengers were huddled together, their uniforms strewn on the floor. Fury had looked on in horror as Earth’s mightiest heroes had been reduced to an orgy of young twinks. At the center of the storm of bodies was Steve Rogers, once the epitome of masculinity now even smaller than he was before he took the serum. Tony Stark, the billion dollar playboy had been laying on the floor, going and back and forth between pleasuring the hulk and planting his face in America’s ass.

Fury later found out that Bruce Banner had been hulked out when the change occurred. When wasn’t the Hulk, Bruce turned back into his normal human form. But many debated whether he was a part of the 198. As whenever he got horny, he reverted to his twinky green form. And now that his fellow Avengers were always there to offer him a helping hand, he didn’t stay Bruce for long. 

Thor and Dr. Strange had been there to advise the team on a new mythical threat, but once the change occurred their attentions had drifted to each other. Strange had enchanted his tongue so that the Norse God could feel it inside him, while Thor had found a new use for his faithful mjolnr, determining which ass was worthy. He’d shoved the handle into Dr. Strange, and from the moans escaping the sorcerer supreme, he was definitely worthy. 

Scott Lang had tried to use his pym particles to bring him back to his normal size. He’d thought it had worked at first as he’d grown back up to his normal six foot, but the particles had an unexpected effect as his formerly tight pair of buns expanded outwards into a pair of massive pillows. He’d reached for his pym particles again, but Fury explained to Bobby that it was no use. By that time Strange had cast his enchantment again, and when Lang felt the mystical tongue between his cheeks he’d fully embraced his new body. After that Scott had used his pym particles instead to shrink himself down to doll size, and he was quickly passed from hero to hero. None of the men there had a large enough member to alleviate the other’s desires, so it had come down to Scott to fill that role. 

Fury had also told Bobby Drake about Shield’s attempts to reverse the change. The super soldier serum had turned Steve Rogers into Captain America once before, they were certain that if they adjusted their equations they could do it again. Fury waited in anticipation when Steve underwent the procedure, but what emerged was not the masculine wonder they were hoping for. Captain America had been changed, but not in the ways they’d hoped. If anything, he was even more feminine and shapely. His body had shrunken down even more, standing five foot nothing. His lips had grown plump and rosy, something even Fury couldn’t keep himself from imagining wrapped around his member. But the biggest change came from Roger’s lower half, the only thing to grow. His massive cheeks seemed to move independently of his body, as the slightest shift of his weight caused them to jiggle indefinitely. 

Fury had insisted that they keep their testing, but the moment it was revealed Cap’s old sidekick Bucky was a member of the 198 that all went out the window. Bucky had come to find Stevie, his feelings finally able to be revealed. The two had run off together and been on the move ever since. Bucky had always looked up to Steve, but now that Stevie was the one looking up Bucky wasn’t willing to let that change. Now he got to be the protector for Stevie, and he couldn’t think of anyway better to service his country than to let America’s hero service him. 

Not every team had been decommissioned because of the change, though, Bobby recalled. His close friend Johnny Storm had been texting him like crazy ever since the change took place. “Flame on!” had taken a very different meaning for the now nubile twink. Bobby had taken him up on his offers once or twice, something sexy about how steamy things got when Iceman’s frozen rod entered Johnny’s flaming form. 

But he’d shared some pillow talk about how The Fantastic Four were doing. They’d been on the space station when Wanda uttered those three words, making it the second time their bodies had been changed while in space. The suits they were wearing were made specifically to contort to their environment, so they were spared some of the humility of their tiny members being on display. Johnny had been very thankful that he hadn’t had to face his own sister naked in his new form. 

The last time they’d changed, Ben Grimm had gotten the short end of the stick, but this time it was Mr. Fantastic himself that had been struggling to accept reality. He’d spent the first few weeks focusing his energy on stretching his body out to resemble his original masculine form. He’d even tried to stretch the hairs on his face to make it look like he had a five o’clock shadow. But Sue eventually sat him down and said his focus on trying to be something he wasn’t anymore meant he was never completely focused on the mission. Sue had taken on much more of a leader role in the team and had said that their relationship would have to come second, and that it was an order. 

Ben and Johnny on the other hand adapted very quickly to the changes. Ben was ecstatic he wouldn’t have to buy customer made clothes or furniture anymore. And now that the bois who were once men were so much more touchy feely, his attempts for romance were a lot easier. Johnny had always been a bit of a womanizer, and he’d quickly adapted those skills into being the sluttiest hero around. He’d gotten with almost every member of the 198, even those reluctant to admit that bois were just as good as women. 

Johnny had even mentioned the time he dragged Reed out with him on the prowl. After getting a few drinks into Mr. Fantastic he’d convinced him to put his stretching powers to good use. Dressed in already too small booty shorts, Reed pushed the fabric to its limit by stretching his cheeks out a foot off his frame. Johnny had chosen the bar specifically because he knew his buddy Peter, one of the 198, liked to hang out there. They’d seen him on the dance floor, and once Reed pressed his gravity defying globes into Peter’s crotch, he almost shot his web right then and there. 

The Fantastic Four weren’t the only heroes still in action, either. Bobby had heard stories that Hawkeye and his ex-wife had teamed up to train a new archer to take his place. But Clint had always believed the best placed to train was in the field, so Hawkeye and Mockingbird had taken the new hero out on the prowl. Clint had tried to continue on with his previous uniform, but the baggy clothes were distracting. So Mockingbird put together a new outfit for him. Now he’d added a new weapon to his arsenal, and he’d become a true homme fatale. Once the training was over, Hawkeye decided to continue his fighting crime, using his feminine wiles and the support of his protégé and ex-wife when he needed the back-up. 

Being invulnerable meant Wonder Boi was still able to fight just as hard as when he was Wonder Man. But after his sister had run into him on a mission, she’d decided she’d have to take a leave of absence from the X-Men to help him stay on track. Psylocke had discovered her brother writhing around on the floor of an abandoned warehouse with the Absorbing Boi, and it was fair to say that Wonder Boi was doing just as much of the absorbing. Betsy had to pull the two apart and psionically remove Wonder Boi’s passion before she could get him to arrest the criminal. She’d explained the whole thing to Bobby the last time she was at the X-Mansion, it was he that had a coined the new names for the hero and villain. 

Bobby remember when he’d run into another hero on a mission of his own. Walking through an alley in search for the Callisto, he’d run into none other than Iron Fist. Seeing Bobby Drake in his still masculine glory had pushed Danny Rand to the edge. Iceman, on the other hand, was focused on his mission. That is until Cessily Kincaid rang in that she’d apprehended Callisto. Bobby had to admit that he’d found Rand stunning back when they could look eye to eye, but in his shrunken state he’d become completely beautiful. Before Bobby even had time to react, Ironfist had focused his chi in order to tear Iceman’s frozen suit right off his frame. Bobby picked up the tiny twink as Danny wrapped his arms around the larger man’s torso. Bobby absorbed moisture from their air focusing it on his arm which grew even more massive, getting ready to show Danny what his own iron fist could do. 

Bobby shook the thoughts from his head, the memories getting the icy hero hot and bothered. He knew still had a work-out to do, and some fun already lined up for that night. He instead let his mind to drift and began to wonder how far Wanda’s hex had reached. 

He knew that the denizens of Atlantis hadn’t escaped her reach. He’d seen Namor when they were recruiting mutants for the new roster of X-men. The king of the sea had been reduced to a lithe little twink, and Bobby had remembered wondering how he could possibly stay submerged with the massive flotation devices his ass cheeks had become. 

Bobby also knew that those in space hadn’t escaped Wanda’s reach. He’d seen what had happened to Starlord. Rocket Raccoon had been affected, not that anyone could tell. But he’d been sending intergalactic communication about the adorable new Petey Quill. Starlord had opened up an intergalactic brothel, hoping that in space there were more than just 198 men that could fulfil his needs. Bobby’s old flame Kitty, from when he was in the closet, had dated Quill for a while. Bobby reminded himself that if he ever found himself in Knowwhere he should make a stop at Quil’s. 

Not even Wanda’s own family had been protected from her hex. Well, her son Wiccan had, but most people believed that was due to his similar powers. As his twin brother had not been spared. Billy and Tommy were hardly identical twins now, Speed looked much more like a little brother. Wiccan’s partner had not been spared either, Hulkling becoming a comical name for the green twink now. The only thing that had remained hulking on Hulkling was his ginormous ass. The three of them had moved in together. At first Wiccan had been trying to find a way to reverse the hex. But as time went on he began liking being the man of the house.

Bobby gathered his thoughts as he finished his workout. A text came through on his phone and his hurt fluttered, hoping that it was from the person he was going to meet. But it was just a message from his friend, Peter. Something about Nick Fury needing them both for a mission this weekend. While reading, he thought about what Peter had told him happened to him when the change took place. Peter Parker was in search of the villain, Mysterio, fighting his way through illusions and nightmares when suddenly they all vanished. In the change, Mysterio’s suit had fallen to the ground, his plexiglass helmet had rolled to the ground. No suit meant no illusions, and without his illusions to hide him, Spider-Man was able to see Quentin Beck in nothing but his skivvies. Parker had described how the situation played out in detail. Beck had fallen to his knees, and Spider-man assumed he was going to beg to not be taken in. But instead of begging, he grabbed for Peter’s spidey suit, and planted his face directly up against the old web shooter. Peter didn’t let his urges stop him, and immediately bound the criminal up with his webs. It didn’t stop the writhing twink though, it would seem that Quentin Beck had a thing for bondage. 

Iceman realized he was letting his thoughts get to him again, quickly shaking the fantasies out of his mind. He’d spent his whole shower reimagining the story Spidey had told him, giving it a much happier end for Mysterio. But now Bobby was on his to something he’d been waiting a lifetime for. He’d gotten an email a few days prior asking to meet with him, and since the change happened, bois only reached out to Robert Drake for one reason. 

He turned his car into a long winding driveway, having to stop at a gate just to gain access to the giant manor in front of him. 

“I’m sorry, the Worthington Estate is not accepting guests at this moment,” a soft voice rang through the intercom. 

 “Hello Warren, it’s Bobby.” The gates opened and gave way for Iceman to enter the estate. As he walked up the steps the front door opened. Standing in front of him was one of his oldest friends, Warren Worthington lll. 

“Hello Warren, you’re looking good.” Bobby had been hiding feelings for the spoiled rich boy since they were both teenagers on the first ever team Xavier put together. Back then he was so put together, his golden hair always coiffed perfectly. His chiseled abs and pecs always on clear display, a necessity to fly he’d argued, before their uniforms were built. Of course, once the uniforms were fitted it didn’t seem to change. But Angel was always smitten with the girls on the team, and Bobby was never willing to let anyone see his gay side. But now the tables were turned. 

The name Angel had never been more fitting. The short young man in front if him was completely beautiful. The cherubic face with glimmering blue eyes and rosy pink lips in tandem with the smooth hairless body and narrow shoulders made Warren the perfect image of a twink. His angelic wings were spread aside, as he was no longer able to comfortably rest them on his back with his massive rear end pushing them out. 

“Hi Bobby, I’ve been meaning to reach out. I need to ask you for a favor.”

“I know what you want to ask, and you don’t know how long I have waited for it.”

Bobby took no time running over and grabbing the smaller man by the waist and leaning in for a kiss. The feeling of his soft lips melted the icy hero’s heart as a heat took over his entire body. He grabbed a handful of Warren’s massive cheek as Warren began grinding his shrunken cock into Bobby’s leg. Iceman slipped his fingers in the back of Angel’s daisy dukes and slowly pushed one ice cold finger into the cherubic man’s hole. Moans of pleasure escaped Warren’s mouth as his wings started flapping with a mind of their own. The two men took flight as they continued their thrusts of pleasure. Repositioning themselves in the air, their clothes slowly fell piece by piece to the floor. Once fully stripped Bobby was able to fully enter those angelic cheeks. 

[captcas]

Worth Fighting For [12/?]

WORTH FIGHTING FOR by capthamm

Killian “Hook” Jones is a dominate up and comer in the UFC while Emma “The Savior” Swan’s career was cut short. When Hook’s manager moves up and the office brings in UFC’s youngest legend to keep him in check, will either of them be able to handle it?

read on ao3 // tumblr: ch 1/ ch 2 / ch 3 / ch 4 / ch 5 / ch 6 / ch 7 / ch 8 / ch 9 / ch 10 / ch 11 [Chapter 12/?]

The three weeks between that and Killian’s fight flew at lightspeed. Between training (together), press conferences (together), and general life (also, together), Emma found herself spending almost every moment with Killian without really knowing what hit her.

He wove himself into her life with an ease she would’ve found scary if she wasn’t so damn happy.

After meeting, Killian and Henry begged to be together daily. It started with short bursts– lunch here, a trip to the park there– and eventually it became week long movie nights with the three of them cuddled up on the couch. Any thought she had of slowing things down was abruptly erased by Henry’s overall excitement just to be with Killian.

The night the two of them fell asleep together in Henry’s bed mid-bedtime story was the proverbial nail in the coffin.

That’s how she finds herself sitting outside the locker room killing time before Killian has to prep for weigh-ins. Henry was already in their seats, Ruby keeping an eye on him while he oogles at the stage being constructed. Emma has been able to mostly ignore the reality of tonight– and tomorrow night– by managing Killian’s social accounts and keeping Regina off her back. (Let’s just say her boss doesn’t know the full extent of their relationship and Emma would like to keep it that way at least until this weekend is over and not just because even she doesn’t know the full extent.)

Emma hears the announcer call for fighters to the locker rooms and it snaps her out of her own thoughts. 

Killian has to go. They– mostly Emma– have been dreading this night since the moment they found out it was Neal. It was only three weeks ago, but somehow everything has changed and it feels like a different lifetime. Killian must have resigned to his fate as well, “Duty calls, love.” He kisses her on the forehead and she leans into the contact. Emma nods but is reluctant to remove her arms from their comfortable spot on his hips. She’s about to wish him luck when he pulls a long silver chain from his pocket. Dangling from the end is a beautiful ring– rubies set with diamonds across a twisted silver band.

Oh shit.

“Whoa. Whoa, whoa, wh–”

He rolls his eyes, “Calm down, Swan. I’m not proposing.”

She nods with a tight smile, ignoring the rush of disappointment that floods her mind. It’s barely been a month, she should not be disappointed. He smirks, probably reading her like a book per usual, but continues anyway, “You know I’m good at surviving the octagon, yeah? Well, this ring is why. I’ve had it for many years, it’s the reason I’m alive. The reason I’m here today.”

“Killian–”

“I want you to have it this weekend. Keep a piece of me with you. Tomorrow may be a bloody awful night for me but I can’t imagine the war raging behind those beautiful eyes of yours, love.” He brushes a small piece of hair off the apple of her cheek before placing the ring carefully in her hand. She clutches it tightly before pressing up on her toes to place a gentle kiss against his lips.

“Thank you.”

He smiles, something bright and happy that reaches his eyes but is reserved for her, “Don’t mention it, Swan. I’ve got all the luck I need right here.” He squeezes her waist, eliciting a small giggle as he focuses in on a slight ticklish spot. Killian kisses her temple once more before they finally part.

“Go get him, Jones.” She can’t help the grin that spreads across her face despite the potential danger Killian is walking into.

He turns back to respond, “Aye, love. Tomorrow night, that’s the plan. It’s only weigh-ins, what could go wrong?” With a wink and a smirk he heads into the locker room and Emma notices the ring still clutched tightly in her fist. Taking it gently, Emma places it over her neck, the weight of the ring heavy atop her chest.

It feels like a lifeline.

Emma takes a deep breath before cracking her neck and slipping into her very real position as Killian’s PR manager. Henry is here tonight, so despite her job, she figures she should check on him first– that is if he hasn’t already tried to come find her. As she walks out from behind the stage she bumps into someone solid. Nausea hits her like a freight train as a familiar scent takes over. The hands on her shoulders seer like fire and she looks up only on instinct.

She swears her blood runs cold at the sound of his voice, “Ems?”

Before she can react, another familiar voice cuts through blood rushing in her ears, “Mom?”

Emma can feel the indent of the ring carving itself into the palm of her hand as she realizes what’s about to happen. Maybe lifeline was an understatement? She reached for the ring instinctively as she realized the moment she had hoped would never come was hovering right in front of her.

She closes her eyes and hears Killian’s voice in her head, “ You can do this, Swan.”

Somehow that’s all the push she needs. Turning to Henry, she ignores the close proximity of his father. “Henry! You were supposed to wait by the seats.”

Her eyes never leave her son. “I was going to but Ruby said I could get popcorn and when I heard them call Hook back I figured you’d be coming out soon so I figured I’d wait for you.” He turns to Neal. “Oh my god, you’re The Fire !!!!”

Neal looks like he’s been tased. Emma pleads with him telepathically to ignore the fact that this is his unmistakably his son.

She never was good at telepathy.

“I am! And you must be Henry.” Neal smiles at him and then turns to Emma for confirmation– she nods slightly despite him barely deserving that. Henry’s eyes light up.

“Did Hook tell you about me?! Mom, do you know Neal Cassidy, too?!” Neal’s eyes turn from amusement to confusion before he turns to Emma.

“Hook?” The word sounds like poison as it cuts across the space between him and Emma.

Henry speaks before Emma can form an explanation, “Yeah! Killian is my mom’s client. She helps him run his Twitter and stuff. Does she do that for you too?”

Oh yeah, client, right.  

Neal gives her one more look before turning back to Henry, “Nope, not for me. Your mom and I are just old friends.” Acid. He sounds like he’s spitting acid. Emma has to choke back a scoff.

How did Emma ever fall for this shit?

“Oh, Killian and mom are friends too. He’s over pretty much every night. I think he likes me better though.” Emma can’t stop a smile from breaking out across her face. She grabs Henry and pulls him in for a hug.

“I think you’re right, kid.” Emma’s eyes meet Neal’s and he’s about to speak when a trainer comes up behind him and whisks him away. Something in his gaze tells her that this conversation isn’t over, but he says bye to Henry who waves before completely moving on to the veteran athletes he saw while waiting in the concession lines. Once he’s out of sight Emma takes a moment to focus her breathing— the cool temperature of Killian’s gift against her thumb effectively grounding her.

This ring really is a godsend– or maybe that’s just the man who gave it to her.

. . .

Killian is sitting in the middle of the sparring gym when he hears his moniker called by an unfamiliar voice. Whoever it is sounds angry. It’s weigh-ins so this level of hostility is usually a show for the cameras, but it’s also usually reserved for fighters who actually know each other.

“Killian Jones.” The use of his full name causes Killian to stand, coming face to face with Neal. He’s only seen him in photos and on tape, but he’d recognize him anywhere. Ice fills Killian’s veins before turning to white hot rage. He’s got half a mind to knock him flat on his arse but knows better than to fight outside the ring.

He opts for civility instead, “Ah, you must be Mr. Cassidy.” Killian squares with him, sizing him up. Despite his clearly trained stature, Killian knows Neal is a coward.

No man who gives up a boy like Henry could be anything less.

“Stay away from my son.”

That was not what Killian expected, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Neal is fired up for some reason or another. Killian can’t imagine why, unless– Emma .

Neal must’ve ran into Emma and Henry before coming back. Killian drops the niceties, “ Your son? I believe there’s a hefty packet of legal papers that says quite the opposite, mate.”  

He watches the rage fill up Neal’s face and his arm begin to form a fist. As Killian responds, Neal’s trainer is coming up behind him. “Not here, Cassidy. Save it for the octagon.”

As the trainer pulls Neal away, Killian doesn’t let the wash of relief exit in a sigh, but he feels it all the same. Neal turns to him once more,“We’ll settle this tomorrow, Jones. You don’t get to steal my life.”  He clearly has a compulsory need for having the last word.

Too bad so does Killian.

As Neal approaches the door separating their designated gyms, Killian calls out once more, “It’s not stealing when you give them up in the first place. Finders keepers, mate.” He winks as Neal crosses into the other room, his trainers keeping him pointed in the right direction.

That’s when Robin walks up behind Killian, “What the hell was that about? I thought you two didn’t even know each other.”

“A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets, Robin. It seems Mr. Cassidy is regretting his choice not to fight.” Killian turns to his best friend and finds only understanding in his eyes.

Robin claps his hand onto Killian’s shoulder, “Kick his ass, Jones.”

Nodding, Killian straps his gloves on. “My plan precisely, boss.”

...

@mariakov81 @kmomof4 @superchocovian @pirateherokillian @teamhook @bawley-bug @let-it-raines ​

[apiratewhopines]

Thanks to @teamhook for the artwork. Liam is so dreamy.

In the Offing

Chapter 15 — Red-Handed

Summary: In which our heroine is dragged through the mud

Chapter 15 on AO3

“When everyone

You thought you knew

Deserts your fight

I’ll go with you”

-My Blood, Twenty One Pilots

“What kind of sorcery do you have coursing through that beautiful body of yours, Swan?”

Of all the things she thought he would say to her now that he had her cornered, those were the last words she expected. “Excuse me?”

“David has been in love with Mary Margaret for most of his life. Although I can’t claim the same closeness you have with her, I’m fairly certain she has returned those feelings for at least as long. They have circled each other for years, neither moving on nor moving closer. Yet you’ve been here a month and one word from you has them skipping out the door, probably straight to their wedding,” he explained, shaking his head in wonder.

“Oh, that,” Emma chuckled as she relaxed. She could talk about their mutual friends quite easily. Especially if it kept them from talking about their relationship. “I”m not sure what David’s problem was but Mary Margaret only needed a little encouragement to step out of her comfort zone.”

“David’s a gentleman, love. When a woman tells you no, you back off,” Killian replied, dropping onto the couch and looking at her as she settled onto one of the stools in the kitchen area. “It disturbs me that you aren’t familiar enough with the breed to know one when you see one.”

She couldn’t stop herself from asking, “What are you doing here, Killian?”

“Being a gentleman, to my own detriment,” he added playfully. Becoming more serious, he said, “I am here to ask you, respectfully, if you are ready to talk.”

“We are talking,” she retorted, shifting uncomfortably when he groaned in exasperation.

“You’re right. The real question is are you ready to listen, Swan? I’m not the most patient man when it comes to you. I’ve made mistakes and I realize that I owe you an explanation although I can offer no excuses. Will you allow me the opportunity to do that now?”

He was being so formal that she wasn’t sure how to respond at first. She felt herself unraveling a bit and knew she was on the verge of falling all over again. The fear gripped her as she thought of what would happen if she let him in again. “There’s nothing to listen to, Killian. Yes, you kept things from me but I did the same thing when I came to town. So no harm, no foul. You can keep your apologies and explanations and I’ll admit my outburst was a slight overreaction. My only excuse is that it has been an emotional few weeks.”

“It wasn’t an overreaction, love. I was in the wrong and I hurt you. You have no idea how much I regret it. But I appreciate you trying to move beyond it.” Looking at her suspiciously, he offered, “So we can go back—“

Interrupting him before he could finish, she said firmly, “So we can go our separate ways with no hard feelings. We can be friends.”

“Friends...I see.” His expression was rigid and the muscle in his jaw ticked a few times. “You’re not even going to give us a chance.”

“I did. It didn’t work out,” she reminded him. “I didn’t come here to start a relationship, Killian. I came here to prove you didn’t hurt anyone. I still want to do that but the rest of this is too complicated.”

Jumping up and starting to pace the floor of the living room, he ran his hand through his hair raggedly. “Complicated? What the bloody hell does that mean? What’s so complicated about wanting to be with someone?”

“I mean you want too much. You want things that I can’t give you,” she admitted, jumping up as well. She held her hands out in front of her in a placating way. The last thing she wanted to do was wound him. Surely, he could see that they were a disaster waiting to happen. They hadn’t even managed a week without a complete meltdown.

“Is that right? And why can’t you, Swan? I know it’s not because you’re incapable so that must mean you don’t want to,” he accused. He faced her with fire in his eyes and she realized she had mishandled the situation cruelly.

“Killian, please. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. I fully acknowledge that there is something between us, something wild and barely restrained. Things like that don’t last. They burn out and I don’t want to be left holding ashes. I can’t do this with you.”

He watched her twist herself in knots trying to find the words to convince him to walk away without causing him pain. She knew she wasn’t successful but his bearing had shifted and he no longer seemed as angry. He was looking at her with calculation in his eyes. His next words were slow in coming but clipped when he finally spoke. “I never figured you for a coward.”

She winced but didn’t disagree with him.

“If this is truly what you want, Swan, I will of course honor your wishes,” he told her. Unhurriedly, he closed the distance between them. When he was close enough that their toes were almost touching, he paused and waited for her to bring her eyes to meet his. “When you change your mind, because deep down we both know that you will, you know where to find me.”

He was almost through the door when he turned back and said in a husky voice, “And if there’s any kindness in you at all, take pity on a man and be quick about it.”

—

Emma found that the dread she had felt about having a conversation with Killian quickly morphed into a different kind of dread. The kind that sprung from the certainty that he was right. She was a coward and she would crawl back to him eventually. When he walked out the door with his tragic, disappointed stare and desperate final plea, she almost stopped him right then.

Remembering the gut-wrenching misery she had felt when she found out he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her the truth was the only thing that stopped her. If he could upend her life so thoroughly and still have her wanting to be near him, she needed to stay as far away as possible. Otherwise, when he left, it would be bad. Because he would leave. Everyone did.

Trying to distract herself, she unpacked her things and then took a long bath. If the water turned cold while she stared blankly at the walls and relived every word of her conversation with Killian, there was no one around to call her on it. Mary Margaret still wasn’t back and it was approaching nine o’clock. She could only hope that David didn’t stay the night. Not that she had anything against him or cared if they wanted to move their relationship to the next level. No, her concern stemmed entirely from the lack of walls and doors in the apartment. Being separated in the loft bedroom would do little to block out the sound of any midnight exertions. With a smirk, she debated relocating to Granny’s in the morning.

It was a couple of minutes later that she hear a knock at the door. Wondering if her impulsive roommate had waltzed out on her dream date without grabbing her keys, she hustled to the door without bothering with her robe. Surprised, she saw it wasn’t Mary Margaret who was waiting for her but the sheriff.

“Miss Swan.”

“Sheriff, what brings you here so late?”

With a slightly apologetic air, he held up a piece of paper. “I have a search warrant for the premises. I ask that you have a seat and allow me to look around without interference.”

Offering no resistance when he sidestepped his way into the apartment, she stared blankly at him. When her mind finally thawed from the shock of his announcement, she said, “Whoa! What do you mean? A search warrant for what?”

With a wary look, he sized her up. She knew she didn’t look threatening in her pink flannel shorts and matching pajama tank so she could not come up with the reason for his grim expression. “The weapon used in the shooting of August Booth.”

“I don’t understand,” she said simply, still trying to figure out when things had gone sideways. “Why would you think it would be here?”

“You mean in addition to you having a motive for wanting Booth incapacitated?”

“If by motive you’re referencing the fact he named me his POA and updated his will without my knowledge, then yes that is what I am asking. There’s no way that’s enough to get a warrant. What happened?”

“Miss Swan,” Graham started. “Emma. I don’t like this anymore than you do but I have a job to do. Someone called in an anonymous tip that the gun that was used is hidden in your bedroom.”

“My bedroom? You mean the room I spent one night in before going to Boston for the weekend. Come on, Graham, you can’t be serious.”

His looked at her with a stern expression and pointed to the couch. “If you please.”

She dropped without another word and watched as he climbed to the second floor. In barely any time, he walked back down carrying something in gloved hands. When he reached the living room, he sank in the chair and put it on the coffee table. It was a small lump wrapped in what looked like a set of dirty rags. He looked at her and shook his head. “I think we both know what that is going to be.”

“Graham I swear, I didn’t have anything to do with it,” she whispered, for the first time actually accepting this was happening. Someone took a shot at her when she came to town, she had the bad fortune of falling into a pit that had been undiscovered for decades, and now someone was trying to frame her for the attempted murder of her friend. A friend who had made matters worse by providing her a motive in the form of giving her control over his substantial finances.

“I know. But I have to arrest you, Emma. I found the weapon in your bedroom,” he told her. “Do you know your rights?”

A devastating sense of deja vu swept over her. She was eighteen and alone, taking the fall for something she didn’t do. Only now she had more to lose. Henry, her new friends, a place she was beginning to think of as home. Squaring her shoulders, she reminded herself that she was also more resourceful than she was a decade ago and she had a life worth fighting for now. With a shaky breath, she said, “Yes. Let’s get this over with. The sooner you eliminate me as a suspect, the sooner we can find out who is really responsible.”

“I promise that’s all I want to do, Emma.”

In the end, Emma only had to spend about eight hours in the jail cell. Graham stayed with her the entire night, gently questioning her about her whereabouts at the time of the crime. Throughout his interrogation, he had revealed as much as he could about the circumstances of her arrest. The gun was registered to Liam and had been in the bag that they had held when she came to pick up their things after the accident.

Once he had traced the gun’s owner, he went to the records room and found the documentation showing she had signed out their belongings. Small favor that it corroborated her version of events that the last time she had seen the bag it was in the trunk of their rental car.

The call had come in shortly after she had arrived back in town and simply indicated that if they checked the upstairs bedroom, they would find the weapon. He had followed procedure exactly and the warrant had been issued within a couple of hours.

It was no wonder she didn’t have a hard time convincing Graham that she wasn’t involved. This reeked of a bad frame job and he knew it. She listened while he called the lab and requested a rush job on processing the gun for fingerprints and analyzing the rags that had been used to wrap the weapon. He left a few minutes later, promising to return with breakfast.

Sitting on the cot in her cell, she racked her mind trying to figure out who would do this to August. And her. Was she the collateral damage or was he the one who got caught in the crossfire? Sure, she had pissed people off in her line of work but no one who would have gone to this level of intricate plotting to get revenge. The only thing that made sense was that she was a convenient scapegoat to take the blame for the attack on the real target.

True to his word, Graham came back with donuts and coffee. Plus he had a visitor in tow. Before Emma could say anything, Mary Margaret rushed over to the bars and reached through to grab her hand while the sheriff hung back to answer the phone. “I’m so sorry you had to stay here overnight. I thought you had gone home with Killian. I never would have left you here. Thank goodness Graham stopped by to let me know.”

Shrugging helplessly, she gave her visitor a weak smile because honestly how could she blame the woman for thinking she had hooked back up with Killian when that was exactly what she wanted to do. In hindsight, it would have been a much better way to spend the night on a variety of levels. “It’s okay. Graham has been very professional.”

The man in question made his way over to them and passed her a coffee and two bear claws through the bars. “I heard these are your favorite.”

“Thanks.” She was humbled by his kindness, especially considering she had been fairly standoffish in all her interactions with him up to this point. Now that she was at his mercy, it would have been easy for him to return the favor but he didn’t. He seemed to feel personally responsible for this failure of justice and upset at being used to carry out some twisted form of torture.

“Mary Margaret, I have a few forms for you to sign and then she’ll be free to go.” With an encouraging smile at her, Mary Margaret squeezed her hand and then followed him to his office. They spent the next several minutes going through the bail paperwork, outlining next steps and consequences if she failed to show up for her court date. When she heard that her bail had been set at ten thousand dollars, her eyebrows rose and she protested, “Mary Margaret, I can get the bail money from my boss.”

Shaking her head, the other woman smiled again and said, “I have money in my rainy day fund, Emma. I think this qualifies.”

Feeling undeserving of her unwavering support, Emma crammed half a bear claw in her mouth before the lump in her throat could force tears to her eyes.

—

Emma and Mary Margaret walked out of the Sheriff’s department a few minutes later arm in arm. As usual, it felt like the entire town was watching her as she moved down Main Street toward the apartment. Although this time, their gazes seemed to hold less curiosity and more judgement. Emma knew that word traveled fast among the residents but this was ridiculous. How in the world did everyone from the garage mechanic to the flower shop delivery boy already know about her fall from grace?

Arriving home, she followed Mary Margaret in, swooping down to pick up the newspaper on her way across the threshold before collapsing on the couch. With a groan she said, “Please don’t let anyone in today. I don’t want to talk to anybody in this town other than you.”

“Emma, no one who knows you would think you had anything to do with August’s shooting. Not to mention, you’re much too smart to hide the weapon in your own room. I’m not sure who wants you out of the way but they’re no match for us. We’ll figure this out.”

While a part of her wanted to shake the naive optimism out of her friend, the larger part was grateful that someone was standing by her. Seriously needing a distraction, she turned her attention to the folded paper that she had tossed on the end table. Pulling it open, her eyes widened and she sat straight up, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“What? What is it?” Mary Margaret made her way over with two cups of hot chocolate. When Emma didn’t say anything, she sat down next to her and peered at the front page. “Oh no.”

There in black and white was a large picture of her being taken out of the back of the sheriff’s car. While Graham hadn’t bothered to handcuff her, there was little doubt from the picture that they weren’t out for an evening stroll. The headline screamed, ‘Former Convict Suspected in Recent Shooting of Famous Author.’

The article went on to do a thorough job of retelling every stupid mistake and unfortunate decision she had made in her life. Glossing over her years in the foster system with a throwaway line about a rootless life and tendency to run away from homes that only tried to help her, the story went on to outline her unsavory history that culminated in an arrest for the theft of several thousand dollars worth of designer watches. Far from keeping a neutral tone, the writer included a high-handed recounting of the dangers of teen pregnancy and questioned the likelihood of people truly being able to be rehabilitated.

The end read like an indictment by a jury. Summing up her motive and opportunity in August’s attack, it seemed in the eyes of this community at least, she was already guilty.

“Well, I guess that’s that,” Emma sighed. Continuing to stare at the print with eyes that could no longer focus on the words, she asked quietly, “Do you want me to leave?”

“Absolutely not,” Mary Margaret declared. “Emma, don’t you dare give up. Your past doesn’t define your life now. Look at how much good you’ve done since you got here, at the lives you’ve touched. They are just trying to sell papers. But I assure you that I am cancelling my subscription immediately. Of all the reckless, irresponsible reporting...”

She wasn’t sure what she had done to earn Mary Margaret’s trust but she thanked her lucky stars that she had it. The other woman’s ranting about cancellations and honor and innocent until proven guilty bolstered her. Sure, she still wanted to curl up in a ball and mourn the loss of her privacy and the tenuous good-will she had fostered in the town but there would be time for that later. “You’re right. Someone at the paper obviously likes to sensationalize but they aren’t lying. I had a rough road to get where I am now but I won’t let this scare me away. I didn’t do anything to August and I’m going to prove it.”

“That’s the spirit,” her companion said. “How can I help?”

“You’ve already done enough,” Emma responded truthfully. “You’re giving me a place to stay and you bailed me out with what was probably your 401k or something. I need a day or two to regroup but I’ll come up with something. I always do.”

Exhausted, Emma forced down the hot chocolate and then went up to the bedroom for the sole purpose of trying to catch a few hours of sleep. Having been awake for over a day at that point, she knew she wasn’t firing on all cylinders. She laid there for hours, the words of the article mixing with the night she had shared her past with Killian and leaving her mind raw.

Why hadn’t he come? Or at least called? There was no way he hadn’t heard of her arrest by now. She knew she told him it was over and it wasn’t fair to expect him to come riding to her rescue. Or to her side at least, she could rescue herself after all. On some level she had expected him to be there despite everything. She thought he had meant it when he said he would fight at her side, even if she had practically thrown his feelings back in his face and told him they were unwanted.

That she wanted him there was beyond doubt. What a mess she had made of things.

Knowing that sleep was impossible with the chaotic stream of thoughts she was fighting through, she listened with vague interest to the occasional sound of visitors at the door. She could make out Elsa’s voice at one point and Ruby’s a little while later. There were other voices as well. It seemed that the news of August’s shooting had filtered to the world outside Storybrooke and now reporters from nearby cities were making their way to town and trying to get exclusive interviews with the man’s friend who had dramatically turned into suspect.

Mary Margaret was doing her job as gatekeeper and no one made it in but the noise was not conducive to rest. With no other recourse, Emma pulled her laptop out of her bag and decided that action would be her savior. Action would chase the feeling of abandonment away, it would keep her thoughts focused on the tasks at hand.

First on her list was transferring money from her savings to her checking so she could reimburse Mary Margaret. Never let it be said that Emma didn’t pay her debts. Her friend had been there for her in a way no one ever had, not even her own family. You didn’t leave someone like that hanging. With a sizable dent in her account, she pulled out her checkbook and wrote a check then and there.

Next she turned her attention to her emails. Apparently there were several business deals and decisions that had been pending since August was hospitalized and she did her best to make her way through what basically amounted to bill payments and book tour contracts. The final two emails from August’s attorney were a bit more unusual as they involved property acquisitions in Storybrooke.

With a kindling of curiosity, she opened the first one. It appeared to be the mortgage paperwork for the purchase of the former mayor’s home. Thinking of the stately white mansion she had scoped out her first week in town, she was baffled as to why August would be buying the property. Did he plan on staying in town after the publication of his book?

The second was even more surprising. It was a forwarded message from an auction house in Portland detailing the upcoming auction for land in Storybrooke that was currently owned by the church. The brief synopsis of the property included that it had been apart of the Blanchard family estate for decades but had been bequeathed to the church after the legal declaration of death was issued. Having no practical use for the land, the church had decided it was to be sold to the highest bidder in late July.

The pictures included in the announcement showed a variety of landscapes. Heavily wooded forest photos mixed with oceanfront views and the gently sloping overgrown lawn that led to a large and woefully neglected home.

Sitting back in bed, Emma stared at the ceiling. Why would the Blanchards have left the property to the church instead of their child? Did August intend to buy this property as well or was this more research for his fairy tales?

As seemed to always be the case in this cursed town, the more that she unearthed, the more that was hidden. One thing was for certain though. August was on to something and she intended to find out what.

[morganas-pendragons]

Dancing With Your Ghosts | Prologue

This story features an OC of mine - Emma Skywalker - who is married to Luke and was the daughter of Obi-Wan. Her mother is also mentioned. For sake of it, she and Leia are Generals who oversee The Rebellion. The Jedi!Reader has psychometry. 

This is my first clone related series besides Child Soldiers (which, so you know, is getting updated soon) and I asked who’d like to be tagged because I am so excited to write it! I know clone fic isn’t super.. in demand at the moment, but I haven’t felt motivated to write for them in forever, so I hope this gives those of you who are here something to say about it!

if you’d like to be tagged, let me know!

tag: @nelba / @mickeymouse-moshpit​/ @iamassbuttkingofhell / @majorshiraharu / @fractiouskat​ / @libradusk​ / @generic-geek-girl​ / @obi-bae-kenobi​ / @sacred-things​ / @midnightredemption​ / @thatbitchfromkamino​ / @captainrexsbiggesthoe​ / @littlevodika​

It’s a quiet day when Emma receives the intel about the clone trooper. He’s been asleep in cryo-stasis for fifty years. Worlds have come and gone since he went to sleep. People have turned to ash and have bid this galaxy farewell. 

His brothers. All of them. 

The men who died for a lie. 

The reports call him Kix. You hadn’t been apart of the retrieval team sent to the wreckage of the Separatist ship when Emma and Leia had been sent the data about him. You knew nothing except what you’d read in his report that had been composed before the fall of the Old Republic. 

CLONE TROOPER KIX - CT 6116

MEDIC TO THE 501ST ATTACK LEGION 

JEDI GENERAL: ANAKIN SKYWALKER 

SUSPECTED TREASON AGAINST CHANCELLOR PALPATINE 

STATUS: MIA 

commentary from his jedi: Kix is the best medic I have seen during the entire war. Attentive and intuitive, his sharp mind and even softer heart have gotten many of my men through their injuries and back onto the front lines of the battlefield. He gives so much of himself that we often forget he’s just as breakable as the rest of us. - a.t. 

another side note from his ‘’other’’ jedi: rex said if kix doesn’t sleep tonight, i’m to drug him - how? who knows, we are not cowards here - but i see his concern, kix doesn’t know how to take care of himself - a.t.

BONUS: He really just needs to be reminded to take care of himself. One of the best men and medics the GAR has. 

You ran your fingertips over the picture that was displayed on your data pad. He seemed.. sweet. Haunted. Innocent. Like the war had made him into who he was.. and he had never really gotten to be anything other then that. Kix was supposed to be someone who saved people. 

He couldn’t save everyone. 

You understood that better then most. 

  “You tighten your fingers around that saber anymore then you already are, and you’re going to have sore fingers.” Emma lightly teased as she joined your side where you stood waiting in the hangar. General Skywalker had taken you on as her Apprentice upon meeting you on (insert planet) and having seen your skill with a blade. All you had of your former life was your saber and your name. “Are you alright, vod’ika?” 

Her father had been fluent in Mando’a, and so had she. It was only logical that she passed it onto you. 

  “I worry about this clone.” You murmur. You often wonder how the Jedi of Old were able to walk throughout their lives without having any attachment - because now here you stand mere moments away from meeting a man, a legend, who is going to wake up and realize how alone he is - and the thought of Kix being lost in a world so unlike the one he came from makes your heart ache. “I’ve been lost in the galaxy before.. before you found me, General.” 

  “You have an unique gift.” Emma replied. “Psychometry was rare in the times of the Jedi Order, and your gift proves extremely beneficial to The Rebellion. You’ve made quite good progress since you arrived.” She nodded in the direction of the shuttle Poe and Finn had taken for the retrieval as the wings leveled and the wheels settled onto the landing platform. “I have high hopes for this clone just as I did for you. I imagine he’ll be the same.” 

He’s not a clone. 

You watch, expression contorted by your nerves, as the ramp descends and several technicians - along with the small contingent of soldiers who had accompanied Poe - gingerly move a hovering cryo-stasis chamber out into the open. 

He’s a man. 

Emma calls something out to Poe and the technicians on site as the pod lid opens. All the people present wait with baited breath for the hibernating clone within to stir and be welcomed back into the world. 

A brand new world. 

It’s hard to hide your gasp of surprise at the sight of the man who slowly sits up at the waist and peers around the hangar like a newborn child coming into the world. Dark tresses hang around his brow bone and frame sharp onyx eyes that are surveying the hangar as if he is trying to assess his surroundings and where he is. 

And then his eyes recognize the sight of people. Humans. 

  “Where am I?” He calls out. You stiffen at your sudden urge to rush forward and grasp his arm so his legs don’t give out, but Emma stops you and takes a tentative step forward. The two of you had spent a considerable amount of time talking about her past and her father’s dedication to his battalion during The Clone War. Emma Kenobi-Skywalker had grown up in a little hut with two legends - a mother and father who had lived and breathed for their Order and for each other - that had whispered stories of their fallen friends and soldiers, brothers in arms, underneath a blanket of stars. “This isn’t Anaxes.” 

  “You’re in The Rebel base, trooper.” Emma said. “Can you tell me your name?” 

  “Designation CT-6116-” 

  “No.” She shakes her head, and that’s Kix’s first clue that this jeti in front of him is not the typical jeti he encountered during the war. “I will not lower you to your designation number. I asked you your name.” 

He hesitates for a minute. You recognize that look. It’s one that only appears in what you believe to be a threat on your life. You are in enemy territory and one slip up costs you everything. 

You intend to ensure that he doesn’t believe that to be the case here. That he woke up in a new world, that he is safe, and he can fight in this war if he so chooses to. You refuse to let the Generals coerce him into fighting another war that isn’t his to fight. 

  “Kix. My name is Kix.” 

Emma smiles then. “It’s nice to meet you, baar’ur.” She greets, pushing loose blonde hair behind her shoulders as she slowly approaches where he stands trembling beside the pod that has kept him safe since the ship he was captured on crashed. “My name is Emma. Emma Skywalker.” 

Your eyes catch Kix’s then. His own flicker to the lightsabers fastened on your hips and then slowly shift back to General Skywalker who has yet to show a glimpse of reluctance in her expression. She is nothing but open and welcome to him. Something he will desperately need. 

  “Are you..” He swallows the knot in his throat. It’s still such a sore topic to remember his aliit. He just needs to get back to them- “Are you related to Anakin Skywalker?” 

  “He was my father’s best friend. My father was Obi-Wan Kenobi and my mother was Opal Stone.” Kix’s eyes flood with tears that he struggles to keep contained at the mention of a jeti who had been his best friend throughout nearly the entire war. Opal Kenobi would’ve gone to hell and back to keep him and his vode safe. “You can call me Emma.” 

Breathless and awed by how composed he is, you keep walking forward despite Poe’s insistent call of your name, and you remove your gloves to lay your fingertips against Kix’s armor. You cannot see the past - or the story - of the person you touch without there being something for you to pull the memories from. 

  “No, wait-” 

Clone armor has hundreds if not thousands of memories written into its design. Bloodshed and brokenness and the rattling, rasping cries of dying brothers as they fumble for grasps on their vode’s armor and suddenly lose their ability to breathe. 

When you touch Kix - the clone medic pulled from time itself - the world around you disappears, and you’re thrown right into the devastation of The Clone Wars. Psychometry really is a fascinating Force ability at its root because of how unpredictable it is, but even in spite of that, you are still privy to some of the most devastating events you have ever seen in your life. There is laughter and joy, sorrow and heartbreak, funeral pyre upon funeral pyre on a world so overcome by shadow that you can hardly see the fires that are lit, the anguish of a brother and the blood that stains his hands. 

And then there’s nothing but screaming and the cold. 

Kix jerks backward like he’s been burnt. So do you. 

   “Jedi, what did you see?” 

You don’t even react to the fact he called you a Jedi. You’ve tried your best to carry on the legacy of a long dead religion because it gave you a purpose in this world, a purpose in this fight against The First Order.. but you consider yourself a poor imitation compared to the figures swathed in Light that you’d seen running through Kix’s memories. 

Because despite the darkness and the fire and the overwhelming torture that has been his entire existence, Kix has always felt one thing inside. 

It’s what he had to be in the face of the war. War is not kind to those who are soft hearted. 

  “Te ciryc bal te dha.” 

The cold and the dark.