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Be like Brian.
#brought to you by my obviously stellar drawing skills#that was sarcasm#cause apparently everyone takes my jokes way too seriously on here#oh yeah#don't get offended by this#it's literally just a silly little post with a terribly drawn stick figure#it ain't that serious y'all#be like brian
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Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH1
Warnings | 18+ SMUT, mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff.
Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London's best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.
He was giving you that look. not the look, that look - the one that told you to stop doing what you were doing. It wasn't often that you'd layer it on thick for the press, making sure that you're giggling as you press your hand to his chest. With each flash of a picture you make sure you're striking a different pose. It was hard work being a liar, but it was even harder work without the publicity you gained.
Your Publicist Cheryl or 'cherry' as she begged you to call her, had devised her own scheming plan to generate not only some amazing press for you, a well established quidditch player, but also some well-needed hype and sales for Fred Weasley's shop. After all, it's not every day that London's best quidditch player was dating Infamous Fred Weasley, Gryffindor Star beater and all-in-all stellar man. The plan had been well and truly in action for just over four months, With Fred the main face of the shared brand with his brother George, it felt like the best option according to Cherry.
You were leaning into Fred, answering press questions about the latest win, how you were feeling about the upcoming game and, of course the all too regularly asked update on the relationship. You were 'very happy with a man like Fred', he was smiling down at you, gushing sappily "She may be the best Seeker in the game, but my god is she a keeper." The line made you sick to your stomach, When Cherry had pitched it to you both, you were groaning in disgust, but as she pulled the lollipop from her bright red lips with a pop, staring at you with raised eyebrows, you knew it had to be done.
As the interview began to wrap up, you thanked the photographers and journalists, grabbing Fred's hand and interlocking your fingers with a beaming smile, you made sure the cameras could see, after all the last issue of the Daily Prophet branded it as a 'winning smile'. You were escorted away from the press, once out of sight from them, your hand dropped from Fred's grip. "Well done for not making that so not obviously fake." you quipped at him, going to pull your coat on and check your phone for any messages. He laughed, imitating your voice, "Oh, Fred, you're so handsome, won't you just kiss me right now?" You scoffed, throwing your bag over your shoulder. Your phone had three messages when the screen had lit up, your stomach feeling like it had butterflies when you noticed the name.
>> Do I get to see my beautiful girl later?
>> I got your favourite for dinner.
>> I miss your lips already
You felt like the luckiest girl alive in his presence, he made you feel like a princess - a queen even, with every night you spent with him. It all started at Hogwarts for you two, after all, It's not often you get to see the best Slytherin seeker and the Gryffindor star beater together. It really wasn't often because you'd been hiding your relationship for that long. He taught you quidditch skills that got you to where you are today during late, late night practices, often ending with makeout sessions on the grass as you straddled his hips,giggling into the bitter Scottish air.
You fell in love with George Weasley as a teenager, and for 6 years you had kept your relationship a well-guarded secret. Even through the war, you kissed each other goodbye, praying that it was only a see you later. You knew that one day you would marry the gorgeous man you loved so dearly. You tried to persuade Cherry, who had and still has no clue about your true relationship status, for it to be George you had a public relationship with, but she quickly shut the idea down because George was 'too quiet'.
<< I miss you so much Georgie… heading back to the shop with fred now
<< btw I'm staying over tonight, I won't suffer another night without kisses :'((
>> Just kisses? ;)
<< Shut up.
<< I love you xx
>> I Love you too, babygirl xx
>> Daddy can't wait to see you <3
George stood lazily, arms draped over the balcony as he was smiling down at his phone like a muppet. He was so head over heels with you that he wasn't sure what to do with himself. George wasn't mad that you had to fake date his twin, after all, he'd rather it be Fred than some random quidditch man, or worst of all, Krum. He knew and recognised how important it was to your career plus, what good businessman turns down the opportunity to rake in some sales? It hurt to read the papers sometimes, seeing how much attention you both got together, a part of him wished it was he who got to show you off.
When you entered the shop, you caught George's eyes immediately, a bashful smile spread across your face, immediately feeling like a schoolgirl again in his presence. Fred sulked off to his office, leaving you to browse the shop until your driver arrived to take you to team practice. You were browsing the upper back wall of products when you felt his stare on you, he was meters away from you and you ached to draw him in for a kiss. You reached out to him, making the grabby hands that he couldn't resist, he checked over his shoulder, seeing nobody, before waking over to you, he pulled you into a quick and needy kiss by your neck, his other hand finding your hip.
"I'll be home after practice," you mumbled between kisses. It was common for you to travel to his via floo, arriving at the place you truly called home, leaving a vacant and empty flat behind. He shook his head, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. "Too long to wait," he laughed softly, his lips pressing to yours again, you were just about to deepen the kiss when you heard Cherry yell out, "Y/N let's go or you'll be late for practice!" You sighed, leaving your boyfriend behind, fingertips being the last thing to separate as you walked away, leaving him dumbfounded.
Practicing with your team was always a long, tough grind, your captain worked you hard and she knew it was all for the best, she was due soon to step down from her duty as captain, leaving the team in your hands, so you felt like you were learning double constantly. The warm water running down your skin made you crave George's touch even more, pushing the thought of Fred's hand on your hip out of your mind completely, you simply couldn't wait.
When you arrived home, George, as promised had your favourite dinner ready for you. He was an amazing chef, using muggle techniques and tools to help create the perfect dishes without the need for magic. You shrugged off your jacket and bag, relaxing into the dining table chair as George brought out your bowl, his hands were massaging your shoulders as you ate, "Aren't you gonna eat, Georgie?" you questioned him, he smirked, "I've been waiting for you to get home so I could have my favourite." George was on his knees, hands reaching up to pull down your leggings, you lifted your hips up, allowing him to drag the material down each of your legs, hooking them over his shoulders,
You knew exactly what he was doing, your hands found his hair and he tutted, breath fanning over your pussy as he looked up at you. "I made your favourite for you, Princess, You always liked it when we eat together." His tongue darted out to lick over your covered slit, feeling you already wet through your underwear, he hummed in appreciation, his teeth pulling the material to the side before attaching his lips to your clit.
Every time he hummed against you, it made you shake, the task of eating dinner becoming more and more strenuous, as you struggled to swallow down the food while he was pulling such sinful moans from you. George's skilled tongue was fucking your cunt, swallowing everything he could like it was the last meal he'd ever eat, and godric did he think you tasted divine, his thumb came up to circle your clit slowly, bringing you closer and closer to the ege.
Thing is with George, he doesn't stop till he's got what he wanted. "Finish your dinner, baby," he smirked, a long finger slowly teasing your entrance, "I'm not finished until you are too." he was a determined man, by your second orgasm you could hardly hold up your fork, but nevertheless you soldiered on, managing to swallow the last piece just before number three hit, your legs were shaking and you were moaning incoherent sentences. That was possibly the best meal of your life, your weak legs could hardly hold you up when you tried to stand.
George pulled you up into his arms, carrying you to the bed where he found your favourite shirt of his, helping you change into it, he left to make you a cup of tea, bringing it into the bedroom for you. sitting contently beside each other.
George's phone buzzed on the side, he read the message from fred. Laughing before showing it to you, the irony all too funny for him to resist.
>> George, if only you had to do this… Fancy swapping places at the product launch on Saturday?
<< Love to, but I'm not sure that's how the whole twin thing works.
>> With an ass like hers, I don't mind it too much… shame, she seems like your type.
The last text from him made george both laugh and be angry at him sexualising his girl. You laugh, pressing a soft kiss to your boyfriend’s jaw before taking a sip of your tea, "He doesn't know George."
He hums a little bit before typing a reply.
<< It really is a shame, she does have a nice ass.
You scoff, rolling your eyes - Men.
///TO BE CONTINUED/// Chapter Two >>>>>
Taglist // @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @weasleysflowr @vogueweasley @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @rip-us @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke @loony-loopy-lupinn
#george weasley#george weasley x reader#fred and george#george weasley fic#harry potter#mutuals innit#weasley twins#fred weasley#harry potter fic#fred weasley x reader#george weasley fluff#george weasley smut#harry potter smut#harry potter writing#Fake It Fic
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The Soldier, the Witch, and the Dragon - A CSSNS 2019 One Shot
Summary: When soldier Killian Jones shows up on witch Emma Swan's doorstep, two worlds will collide. He will learn of worlds and wonders he never imagined possible and she will learn that true love might just be in the cards for her. Witches, Dragons, and Magic, Oh My! A CS one shot for the 2019 Captain Swan Supernatural Summer event.
A/N: Thank you to @spartanguard for masterfully crafting the banner above and this CS edit to accompany my story, it is magnificent. I love it Kaitlyn!!! @hollyethecurious - much appreciation for being the extra set of eyes to fine tune this tale. And finally, thank you @cssns for bringing together so many talented writers and artists to put together another phenomenal collection of supernatural content for all of us CS lovers.
ao3 ffnet Rated M 15K+
July, 1865
In spectacular fashion, as was customary for him, Killian Jones staggered up the two steps of the single dwelling nestled among the foliage of a supposedly haunted wood. Bloodied and bruised he slumped against the door frame, grunting as the raw nerves of his severed hand met with the rough wood. He brought his other hand to the door and rapped his knuckles against what he hoped to be the entryway to his last chance for salvation, before passing out. Spectacular fashion indeed.
Two days ago…
“Since you are representing yourself, Mr. Jones, you are charged with desertion, how do you plead?” the judge questioned.
“Not guilty,” Killian Jones stated definitively.
“You deserted during war time, is this not true?”
“Semantics.”
“Your honor he deserted the Confederacy in May of 1861,” the prosecuting lawyer argued.
“Your Honor, if I may?” Killian asked.
The judge nodded his head in Killian’s direction, allowing him his defense.
“I merely recognized I was fighting for the wrong side.” Killian smiled his most brilliant smile as if this one statement had won his case.
“Come again, son?”
“You’re required to be impartial, yes, Your Honor?”
The judge nodded curtly.
“I was involuntarily drafted into this war by the Confederacy. Being a former slave myself, sold into it by my father, I would never support such an agenda.” Years of practicing a cool and collected demeanor were working in Killian’s favor as he maintained the facade that hid his disgust for the Confederacy and all it stood for. “Therefore, I did not desert in time of war, I simply... switched sides,” he declared with a flourish of his hand.
“Then you are an enemy of the Confederacy,” the judge amended.
“I beg to differ,” Killian said cheekily, “how can I be an enemy of something that does not exist?”
A low buzz broke out across the courtroom as discourse ran rampant among the lot of Confederate diehards. Killian wondered if they even knew the war was over, and they’d lost.
“All good points you bring up, Mr. Jones. Unfortunately, I am not here for good points, I am here to uphold the law to the best of my ability. As such, I hereby by find you guilty of the charge of desertion during war time. In addition, I am adding and find you guilty of the crime of treason and as such, I sentence you to be hanged tomorrow at noon.”
Before Killian could react to what was happening he was roughly being hauled away by the bailiff and thrown into the shitty cell he’d been sitting in for the last three weeks. His jaw clenched as he lay on the ground where he’d been tossed.
One moment he’d been enjoying rum, riches, and wealth via his stellar poker playing skills and the next he’d been dragged from his bar of choice, carted hundreds of miles, and hauled into this cell. Where had he gone wrong? Perhaps he never should’ve left England with his father and brother, after his mother’s death. Then he never would have been sold into slavery, subsequently landing here in the south.
“On your feet, soldier,” the guard on duty barked.
“For what?” Killian spat.
“For your superior officer,” a familiar, grating voice said.
Killian’s eyes rolled so far back in his head he was sure they might get stuck there. There was nothing superior about this man, nothing. “Captain Cassidy, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Just came to settle a debt, Jones.”
“Ah, I guess my trial was over before it started, makes sense now.”
“You killed my father, you traitorous son of a bitch.”
“He deserved it, Neal,” Killian gritted out, jumping to his feet to meet his former friend against the bars of the cell. “He killed women and children in the name of being victorious for a losing side.”
Neal shrugged his shoulders. “You should have left well enough alone instead of coming back.”
“I didn’t have a choice, it was me or him! I didn’t seek him out, we were engaged in combat.”
Neal reached through the bars and grabbed Killian by the shirt. “Semantics. Isn’t that what you always said? You say didn’t have a choice, I say murdered in cold blood.” He threw Killian back as he seethed the last words. “You’ll never see that noose tomorrow, but you’ll wish you were hanged by the time I’m done with you.”
乂❤乂❤乂
“Wake up! Come back to me.”
Killian smiled as the feminine voice washed over him, adding to the weightlessness he felt. It made all movement a little cumbersome, but he felt healthier than he had during the past month, and he was blessedly pain free for the moment. That is until a stinging slap collided with his cheek. His brow furrowed and a grimace replaced the easy smile that had graced his lips. He struggled to open his eyes to see just who was attached to the voice that currently worried over him.
“Don’t die,” the voice repeated, “it’s the only thing I can’t fix.”
A doctor! he thought as relief washed over him. But when he was finally able to command the muscles of his eyelids, he was greeted by an angel. She was dressed in all white and a halo of blonde tresses cascaded over her shoulders, which positively emitted a golden glow around her being. He thought to himself, if he was dead then there were two things he was grateful for. One, he’d made it into heaven and two, the angelic being before him.
“Hey beautiful,” he rasped out before attempting to throw her his most devilish smolder.
“Oh! Are you in pain?” she asked.
“Not at the moment, which is more than I can say for the last forty-eight hours. Why?”
“You just made a face, I thought maybe your wounds were causing you pain. It would be quite odd if you were experiencing any pain, though. So maybe that’s your normal face?”
So, not a devilish smolder that he’d made then. “If it’s devilishly handsome, it’s my normal face. If not, you are not getting the full effect.”
“Whatever you say,” she said noncommittally.
Do angels really roll their eyes and scoff? Killian wondered.
“You sure are arrogant for a man who passed out after being on the losing end of some sort of fight.”
It was Killian’s turn to scoff. “I do not lose.” He had passed out though, he thought as he reached up sheepishly to scratch behind his ear. “Bloody Hell!” he yelled as something pierced said spot.
“Careful,” the angel chastised as she pulled his arm away from his head. “That thing is a weapon now.”
Killian looked at his left hand, or what should be his left hand. “What the devil have you done to my hand?” Killian looked around in a panic as the events of the past several weeks came flooding back to him. “Where am I? Who are you? Who do you work for?” He was yelling as he realized he was in an unfamiliar room, laid up in a bed that wasn’t his.
“Hey! You showed up here without your hand!” she exclaimed, jumping up from the side of the bed. She backed away from him, anguish washing over her face. “I- I didn’t do anything but try to help you.” She shook her hands as if to cleanse the aura in the room.
Killian gasped as pain seared through him. His wrist burned as if it had been jammed into salt, and his arm felt as though it was going to explode. His throat was parched, and suddenly he was gasping for air. He curled in on himself trying to shut out the pain. “Please! Stop! Please, you’re hurting me.” He pleaded for the blond haired angel turned demon to stop whatever it was she was doing.
“I’m not doing anything to you! You… you distracted me!”
“I’m sorry I yelled,” he rasped.
Inhaling deeply, the woman sat back down next to him and brushed the hair from his forehead. Closing her eyes she shook her hands out once more before sitting in concentrated silence.
Killian’s whole body relaxed as a soothing ambiance floated through him, and after a few moments the pain began to recede. “Thank you, love.”
“I’m not your love,” she scolded, opening her eyes.
“Pity.”
“If you’re going to flirt so outlandishly shouldn’t I at least know your name?”
“Apologies, lass, Killian Jones at your service,” he greeted, extending his right, and now only hand. A smooth flow of positive energy flowed through him when she took his hand. “And you might be?”
“Emma Swan.”
“Lovely to meet you, Emma Swan. Are you my guardian angel? Did you draw me here, in my time of need with your powers of guardianship? Or did I just happen to stumble upon a random angel?”
Emma laughed out loud, an angelic sound if you asked Killian, which is what made her next words even more difficult to fathom.
“I’m no angel,” she chuckled. “But since you are obviously a believer in otherworldly beings, perhaps I can tell you what I am. And if I can’t trust you with my secret, I can always cast a memory spell on you.”
“A memory spell?” Killian enunciated as he tried to grasp the words.
“Just who are you, Swan?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“I do believe I asked.”
“I’m a witch.”
It was Killian’s turn to laugh aloud. “There is no way you are a witch, darling-”
“Em-ma,” she corrected.
“Where is your broomstick and black pointy hat, Emma? And your laugh, that was most definitely not a cackle.”
“It is not a prerequisite of a witch to own a broomstick, or black pointy hat, Jones. Nor do we all own cats and have warts. Though I suppose if that’s your biggest concern with me being a witch, we’re in a pretty good place.”
“If you want to join me here on the bed, we could get to an even better place.” He ran his tongue along his lower lip before biting it and cocking an eyebrow at her.
“In your dreams,” she laughed.
“I do hope so.”
“I just told you I’m a witch, and your response is to flirt more?”
“Perhaps you’ve bewitched me with your beauty and grace?”
“Do you ever stop?” Emma asked as a lovely blush colored her cheeks.
“Do you want me to?” Killian asked softly. A crack of a smile curved Emma’s lips and he hoped she could feel his sincerity, he would stop if she asked him to. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he felt like he’d do anything she asked of him.
“Get some rest Jones, and when you wake we will eat and you can tell me what happened to you.”
Killian yawned heartily as a wave of exhaustion rolled over him. “But I don’t want to sleep.”
“But you need your rest,” Emma insisted.
“Do you have magic,” he asked as he became increasingly tired. The last thing Killian saw was Emma flicking her wrist as a dragon came to rest on her shoulders. A dragon? he thought, then he drifted out of consciousness and into dreamland.
乂❤乂❤乂
“I think we were meant for each other,” Emma whispered into his ear, causing a shiver to course through his body. His eyes were closed and his body was light, yet responsive to her every word and touch.
In his heart he knew she was right. He could feel the connection, mind, body, and soul. “I am yours, love.”
“And I am yours,” she promised as she pressed against his entire body.
Killian shivered again as she gently raked her fingers through his hair and fisted her other hand into the hair on his chest. Her lips hovered just above his as she told him she was going to kiss him now. He eagerly awaited the press of her soft lips as he attempted to wrap his arms around her. Damn, how he wished to hold her.
“Killian.”
What was she waiting for? Where was his kiss? Why couldn’t he reach out to embrace her?
“Killian?”
“What are you waiting for, Swan? It’s bad form to tell a man you’re going to kiss him and then tease him so.”
Her soft chuckle had him opening his eyes. “What’s so funny?” he asked playfully. As the room came into focus, she was no longer laying next to him, but standing at the small table by the kitchen. “And why aren’t you laying with me anymore?”
“I think someone was dreaming,” Emma whispered, giggling again.
“Bollocks,” Killian muttered as he dropped his head back down to the pillow. It had seemed so real, not just her physical presence, but the love. He’d felt her love.
“I’m not going to ask him that,” she scolded. “It’s none of our business what he dreams about!”
Killian tensed as he realized there was someone else in her home. Of course there was. Someone as beautiful and benevolent as this woman was sure to have a significant other.
Attempting to stand up, which was not nearly as fluid as his normal movement, he cleared his throat. He settled for sitting up in bed for the moment. “Apologies, it appears I have overstayed my welcome, I should be on my way.”
Emma cocked her head, looking at him with a perplexed expression. “You don’t have to go.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose on you and…” Killian looked around the room, searching for the person she’d been talking to. “Uh… wasn’t there someone else here just a moment ago?”
Emma blushed profusely as she looked toward the corner of the kitchen. “Not exactly someone.”
“Were you talking to yourself then?”
“No,” she answered indignantly. “I was talking to Henry.”
So there was a man in Emma’s life. “Ah, I see.” He really didn’t, since he couldn’t see this Henry fellow. “Best take my leave now. Any chance I can have my shirt back?” Looking around the small cabin, Killian spotted his boots by the front door.
“Sure,” she said quietly.
He watched as she slowly walked to the basin and picked up his shirt. Great, it was still dripping wet, at least all the blood stains were gone. That would make it a little easier to blend in when he moved on to the next town.
“We can’t force him to stay,” she hissed.
Killian quirked an eyebrow as he watched her argue with a spot on the wall.
When she turned her eyes back to him, he averted his, not wishing to embarrass her. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but something was definitely a little strange. Unable to look away any longer he chanced a glance back at her. She was still staring at him, almost longingly, he thought. He jumped when with a small flick of her hand the shirt was not only dry, but also back on his body. He was jarred back to right before he’d dozed off, he’d asked if she had magic. Unless he’d lost more than just his hand, oh yeah, that, he was pretty sure she did have magic.
“I made dinner if you want to eat before you go?”
Killian wondered why she sounded so defeated, seemed almost sad at the prospect of either dinner or him leaving. “I don’t wish to impose on you and Henry.”
“We don’t mind,” she rushed out.
“Okaaaay… and you’re sure Henry won’t mind?”
“Of course not,” she said excitedly. “Tell him, Henry.”
Killian’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he realized she must have an imaginary friend. Who was he to judge, though? It must get lonely in these woods where most wouldn’t dare venture. She must not know many others of her type. Killian was pulled from his musing when a bird suddenly swooped from above and circled his head. “What the devil? How did a bird get in here?” Waving his hand in the air, he attempted to shoo the bird away.
“That’s Henry,” Emma laughed.
“Henry’s a bird?” he asked.
“No,” Emma said, walking toward him. “Settle down, Henry.”
The little guy landed on Killian’s shoulder and he was overcome with a sense of being welcomed. “How did he do that?”
“Do what?” she asked.
“Invite me to dinner.”
“I invited you to dinner.”
“You told him to tell me it was okay, and now he is sitting on my shoulder and somehow he has communicated to me that it’s okay to stay for dinner. He let me know you both want me to stay for dinner. Does he have magic, like you?”
Emma’s eyes widened. “He did?”
Killian gave a small nod as she seemed to contemplate something.
“Well, since you didn’t balk when I told you I was a witch, I guess I can tell you about Henry.”
“You can tell me anything,” Killian said as he sat forward. He wanted to hear anything and everything Emma Swan wanted to tell him. That feeling of absolute love was back, and although he couldn’t fathom the idea of loving someone so soon after meeting them, he also couldn’t deny the feeling.
“Henry is what you might call a power animal or a spirit animal. He’s my power animal.”
“Power animal?” Killian repeated.
“Power animals are supernatural creatures that convey influence. They can also give a person the powerful traits and characteristics of the animal. They walk through life with certain people, teaching and guiding them, and sometimes protecting them.”
“Do I have a power animal?”
“Everyone has a power animal. They usually only reveal themselves when you need them. Or when…”
“When what?” Killian asked with rapt fascination.
“Dinner’s ready,” Emma said, changing the subject abruptly. “Oh, and Henry is not a bird. He’s a dragon.”
Killian tensed up as he slowly turned his head to try and see the small dragon sitting on his shoulder. He wasn’t so sure allowing a dragon to sit on one’s shoulder was a good idea. As soon as he thought the idea, Henry was communicating to him that he was perfectly safe.
“That is so weird,” Killian murmured.
I know, Henry seemed to say.
“You get used to it,” Emma said with the sweetest smile on her face. “Henry, can you help him over to the table?”
Without too much effort, Killian was up and moving toward the table. He couldn’t believe how… normal he felt. As if he hadn’t had the crap beaten out of him and his hand lopped off. Oh yeah, that. “So, what’s with the hook?” he asked as he sat down at the table to a hearty looking stew and bread.
“I uhh… I don’t know, I just thought it would be utilitarian.”
“A hook?”
Henry landed on Emma’s shoulder and chirped loudly at her. “It is not a lie,” she snapped back. Henry seemed to cock his head in disbelief, and Killian just chuckled at their interaction.
“Sure, you can use it to scratch, stab, eat-”
“Like a pirate?” he asked, just a little outraged at the barbarism she was implying he might employ.
She just laughed at his reaction before continuing, “It would also serve you well in the thick woods, and it’s easier to hold than a hand.” Emma reached across the table to grasp the hook as if trying to prove her statement.
Although it was an inanimate object, Killian could swear he felt that same unconditional love through her firm grasp. “I guess it has its perks,” he said, somewhat lovestruck.
They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments before Emma spoke again. “Can I ask you a question, Killian?”
“Anything.”
“What were you dreaming about?”
A blush crept up his cheeks as he contemplated his answer. He debated brushing it off, or making something up, but then Henry landed on his shoulder and he felt an esoteric need to tell her. “I dreamt we were in love, I don’t know how, I don’t know why, I just know we were truly in love... and you were going to kiss me.”
“Really?”
“Aye, love. I wouldn’t make that up. Sadly I was woken before the kiss.”
“What a shame,” Emma teased. “I’m sorry Henry and I woke you.”
“You could make it up to me, you know.”
“A healed arm, no pain, dinner, and a roof over your head not enough, Jones?”
Killian roared with laughter. “Well, when you put it like that, I guess I do sound like a greedy bastard.”
Emma stood up from the table and began to clear away the dishes. Killian grabbed his bowl and took it to the basin. “If you have magic, why do you continue mundane tasks like dishes?”
“I try not to use magic for every little thing. It helps me to pretend I’m normal.”
“Why would you want to be normal when you have super powers?”
“That’s a story for another time,” Emma murmured. She pointed to Henry, who was still propped on Killian’s shoulder. “And don’t you dare, mister, no compelling me to spill all my secrets.”
Killian gave Henry a conspiratorial look, maybe later, he tried to tell the mini dragon. Too say he was shocked was an understatement when Henry actually winked at him.
“And no ganging up on me!” Emma ordered.
“If Henry is your power animal, why can he communicate with me?” Killian asked.
Emma narrowed her eyes, giving Henry a dirty look. “Did you tell him to ask me that?”
Henry ruffled his wings as if offended by the accusation. “Why would he tell me to ask that?” Killian’s curiosity was definitely piqued now.
“Never you mind,” Emma said walking away from the basin. With small flicks of her wrist she lit several oil lamps and went to sit on the settee.
Henry urged Killian to join her, so he did. He wasn’t quite sure why Emma was clamming up when it came to elaborating about Henry and power animals, but he decided to leave it be. “May I ask why you live out here in these haunted woods?”
Emma snorted in a decisively unladylike manner as she repeated the word with disdain. “Haunted. They’re not haunted, I just don’t want anyone bothering me. So I may wreak a little havoc when people get too close.”
“Doesn’t it get lonely?”
“I’ve never really noticed. I have Henry and I can go to town when I wish.”
Killian looked around the small cabin, it was quite homey and comforting. He supposed that’s all some people required.
“How about you? Did you live alone before you found yourself at my doorstep?”
“I haven’t lived anywhere for a very long time.” A bit of melancholy worked its way into his voice as he answered truthfully. He looked back to Emma and the inquisitive expression she wore. “I suppose that answer was a bit cryptic, but just as you said earlier, that is a story for another time.”
Emma smiled graciously, letting Killian know she wouldn’t push.
Over the next several hours they chatted easily, including Killian telling her the story of how he’d come to lose his hand. Henry had long since taken up residence between her shoulder and hair and was quietly snoring. Killian only became slightly alarmed when Henry emitted several smoke filled exhales.
“Is he going to ignite?”
“No,” Emma giggled. “He is a fire breathing dragon, though, and sometimes when he dreams he gets a little heated.” She yawned, covering her mouth and apologizing. “It’s almost three in the morning!”
Not realizing how late it had gotten, Killian told her, “You take the bed. I’ll sleep here, on the sofa.”
“Absolutely not! You’re not healed yet.”
“I am mending just fine. Besides, a gentleman would never make a lady sleep anywhere else when a bed is available.”
Emma stood up and offered her hand to him. “Gentleman?” she laughed.
“I’m always a gentleman, Swan.”
“Come on, we can both fit.”
Killian shook his head, and slid his hand behind his back. “That’s not necessary.”
“What? Are you afraid you won’t be able to resist my feminine wiles?”
Something like that, Killian thought.
“Stop being a baby.” Before he could stop her, she grabbed his hook and dragged him to a standing position. She led him over to the bed and with a flick of her wrist he was wearing sleeping clothes he’d never seen before. “Now get in the bed, before Henry has to make you.”
Killian held up hand and hook in surrender before climbing into the comfortable bed. “What are you doing?” he gasped as he looked over to see her lifting her skirts.
“I’m changing into my nightie,” she replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Do you suppose for propriety’s sake, or at least my sanity, you might just poof yourself into some night clothes like you did me?”
“Poof?” Emma snickered.
“Yes, you know, magic them onto yourself.”
“You could just look away.”
He knew he could, he just didn’t want to make himself. Her creamy thighs were delectable, and it had been a score. Well, that was an overestimation, but it’d been a long while since he’d looked upon a gorgeous woman. He could feel himself stiffening and had to adjust himself in the thin pants he was wearing. Where was Henry to douse his damnable lust!
“Yes, I could,” he lamented, looking around the cabin, anywhere but in her direction. Still, knowing she was blissfully uncovered had him stirring further. He spotted Henry across the room, curled up on the settee, head under his wing and tail wrapped around himself protectively. Killian guessed he’d have to persuade himself to calm down.
“There, see. All done, and no worse for the wear,” she stated as she climbed into the bed next to him.
Killian’s tight pants begged to differ. Scrubbing a hand over his face he rolled over to face away from her. “Good night, Emma.”
“Good night, Killian.”
乂❤乂❤乂
“You are meant for each other,” the dragon stated matter-of-factly. “You’ve been destined to meet since the moment she was born. She was born many years before you, but was cursed by a jealous witch to walk the world alone..”
“How long ago?”
“Several lifetimes.”
“Why can you talk to me?”
“Because this is a dream.”
“Even when I’m not dreaming, we understand each other.”
Henry grinned at him knowingly. “That is because I am your power animal as well.”
“What? How can that be? How can two people share a power animal?”
“If those two people-
“Henry!”
Killian sat bolt upright in bed as reality came back in on the wings of a dragon who was chirping, angrily if Killian was not mistaken, at Emma.
“It’s my secret to tell!” She was dressed with a flick of her wrist, wearing another flowy white dress, and out the door before Killian could ask what happened.
Standing up to stretch, he was suddenly hit with a wave of pain. The same pain from the day before sliced through his wrist and forearm. Sweat broke out across his forehead and he struggled for air. Collapsing back on the bed black spots infiltrated his vision as he bordered the lines of consciousness. Henry was there on his chest momentarily, and Killian watched as the mini dragon closed his eyes. He was immediately flooded with a cooling sensation and the pain subsided quickly.
“Thank you, Henry.”
Once he’d caught his breath he asked the dragon where to find Emma. Henry let him know he would lead him there. Looking at the clock he couldn’t believe it was already past noon; they had been up late the night before, so he supposed oversleeping was excusable this once. Rummaging around the cupboards he grabbed a canteen, some biscuits, and fruit and put them into a basket from the counter. “Henry, where is my uniform?” he called out as he grabbed his boots.
Henry chirped to him from the bed. When Killian walked over he saw the dragon was sitting upon a fresh pair of pants and a pressed shirt. “Where did this come from?” He certainly did not wish to wear someone else’s clothes. If dragons could roll their eyes, Killian was certain Henry just had. “Well, how was I supposed to know you also have magic?”
“Yes, you’re right, you are a mystical, fire breathing creature, I guess it’s not too far of a stretch for you to have magic.” Killian chuckled as he remembered how odd it’d looked when Emma appeared to be talking to herself yesterday, and now here he was doing the same thing. “Wait! I dreamt you told me you are my power animal as well as Emma’s!” Killian exclaimed as his dream came back to him.
Killian was greeted with utter silence. “Oh, now you’re going to clam up, mate?”
Henry simply shrugged his wings. “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to find Emma and then you are going to make yourself scarce.”
Henry nodded.
Killian wasn’t sure how, but they had a story. He didn’t know what it was, but this woman he barely knew had captured his heart. A fierce determination coursed through his veins with each beat of his heart, and Killian intended to find out just how he fit into this tale. “Wait,” he looked to Henry, “are you making me feel this bravado?”
Henry shook his head adamantly. He also conveyed to Killian that he was done interfering and overstepping.
“You don’t like when Emma’s cross with you, do you pal?”
The dragon hung his head, Killian had hit the nail on the head. “Well never fear,” he said holding his hand- uh... hook up in the air, “Captain Killian Jones is here. I will fix this.”
“No! You may not call me Captain Hook.” He stared daggers at the dragon as the jibe came through. “Yes, it is fitting, I just don’t like it.”
“Okay, fine. It is rather lethal sounding,” Killian acquiesced as Henry continued to emote reasons why this name would be perfect. “But only you can call me that. Don’t go spreading the word.”
The two left the cabin in search of Emma. It wasn’t a far walk, she’d be near the water, Henry had assured him. And the little guy was right, the trees of the forest broke to a small bank along the shore of a glassy blue lake. Emma sat at the edge, her dress pulled up so she could dip her feet in the icy water as she leaned against a large fallen tree.
“I thought you might be hungry,” Killian spoke softly as he walked up behind her.
“Is the traitor with you?”
A smile broke across his face as he realized both he and Henry were being wrongfully accused of being traitors. He was sure Henry’s sentence would be much lighter, just a cold shoulder and grudge from this beautiful angel. He contemplated if it might be worse than a death sentence to have Emma Swan angry with you.
“He’s not-”
“Good.”
“You didn’t let me finish, love. He’s not a traitor.”
Emma whipped around where she sat and scrutinized Killian. “So you’re taking his side?”
Was he really being accused of being a traitor… again. Sitting down next to her, he offered her the basket. “There is no side to take, you two are a team.” An errant thought of wanting to be part of that team flitted through his mind and a small, shy smile graced his lips as he looked down at the ground.
“I think he wants to be on your team,” Emma huffed.
“Maybe he wants us to all be a team?” Killian couldn’t resist the perfect opportunity to speak those words aloud. He was floored as emotion after emotion crossed her face while she seemed to study him. He imagined she was gauging the legitimacy of his words. “I’m not sure how, but I know there is something between you and I, something real, and deep. And I want to figure it out with you, without the influence of Henry… because when I win your heart, Emma - and I will win it, it won’t be because of any trickery. It will be because you want me.”
Before he could read her reaction, he was being pulled by the lapels of his magicked shirt and he was positive she was about to kiss him. Just before her lips could touch his, a loud chirping sounded within the small haven they’d created around themselves.
“Henry, we talked about this. No interfering, right?” Killian asked with a trace of irritation in his voice.
“Shhh! There’s someone here,” Emma hissed. “Henry, how far are they?”
Killian looked between the two of them, the panicked look on Emma’s face and the haphazard flapping of Henry’s wings, and he knew treachery was afoot. “Who is it,” he whispered.
Soldiers, Henry projected, two.
“Emma, you and Henry go back to the cabin. I have to take care of this, I won’t risk either of you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not handling anything in your condition! If I leave, you’ll be writhing around on the ground like a snake in pain.”
Killian rolled his eyes. “It’s not that bad.”
Emma raised an eyebrow at him and Killian could tell the moment she lifted some of the effects of whatever dampening spell she was masking his pain with. “Fine, but stay hidden.” He watched as Emma and Henry shared a look and knew right away that his request was not going to be met.
“You keep him out of pain, and I will fight with him,” Emma said to Henry who gave a nod to confirm her idea of the plan. “Stay in the trees, I don’t want them to see you. And I’m sorry I got mad at you.” Henry flew over to Emma’s shoulder and nuzzled her cheek with his nose. “Yes, you did overstep. But I overreacted, too.”
Despite the danger lurking, Killian was inexplicably relieved that Emma and Henry had made up. As Henry took to the trees, Emma and Killian braced for the intruders.
“Killian Jones, war criminal and traitor, surrender yourself and no one gets hurt,” a man shouted from beyond their scope of sight.
“What do you want from him?” Emma shouted, grasping Killian’s hook.
“Going to let the little lady speak for you?”
“I’ll be speaking for myself,” Killian gritted out as Cassidy showed himself at the treeline.
“You’re a convicted traitor and deserter,” the other man added, “you’re to be hanged. I hereby place you under arrest. If you come willingly, no one will get hurt.”
“You’ve got the wrong man,” Emma argued. “Killian is a good man, he would never do those things.”
“He deserted the Confederacy in order to fight for the Union. If that’s not a traitor, I don’t know what is, little lady.”
“Stop calling me little lady,” Emma spat. “And if you’d told me he deserted the Confederacy the first time you spoke, I’d have applauded.”
“Oh, did he tell you his sob story of being a slave? Did he brainwash you into believing the North is superior?”
Emma glanced at Killian as if sizing up the affect Cassidy’s words were having on him. “He’s told me nothing. I just know which side I’d choose. Every once in a while, there is an underdog no one can root for.”
Killian wished he had the ability to communicate to Emma silently right now. She was unaware of how easily Neal could be rattled, and right now she was shaking the cage quite hard. “I’m not going with you, Neal. I’m not a criminal, all is fair in love and war.”
“Where’d you get that shit, all those fancy books you like to read?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. Yes, I did.” Killian’s smug grin turned into a gulp as both men drew their rifles. Apparently he was also unaware of how easily Neal was rattled.
“Hands up, Jones. I’m taking you in. Shackle him, Felix,” Neal commanded the other man.
“I told you I’m not going with you,” Killian repeated. “You’ll have to shoot me, but let her go first.”
“No!” Emma shouted.
“No,” Neal answered, “I don’t think I will. I think I’ll take her as a prize.”
Neal set down his rifle, while signaling for Felix to keep his trained on Killian and Emma. He approached her with a sickening leer upon his face. “Yeah, I think I will take her right here. I’ll let you watch, Jones.”
“Over my dead body,” Killian spat as he moved to stand in front of Emma.
“That can be arranged,” Neal nodded at Felix, “shoot him.”
In the time it took Felix to cock his rifle, Emma shot her hand out toward Felix, and as he pulled the trigger a spark flared and it misfired, blasting hot gun powder into his face. Dropping the weapon, he shrieked in pain as he ran toward the water.
“What did you do to him?” Neal screamed as he charged toward Emma.
“It was a misfire,” Killian yelled pushing Neal back. “Not so tough without your gun, are you?” Killian taunted as Neal reached for his gun, obviously forgetting he’d left it back by Felix. “Let’s settle this like men. You and me, fisticuffs.”
“You want to lose your other hand?”
“In what world would you take my hand without weapons?”
“Who said no weapons?” Neal asked as he drew a boot knife and lunged toward Killian. Slashing out wildly, Neal connected with Killian’s face, slicing him. “You’ve got a fucking hook for a hand.”
Oh yeah, that. Killian jumped back as Neal made another pass with the knife. When Neal advanced again, Killian shot his left hand in front of him and deflected the blade, causing a clank of metal against metal to ring out.
The two grappled back and forth, punch for punch, knife and hook competing for the upper hand. Both men panted heavily as they fought on. Felix was still down at the lake dousing his eyes and face in the water, while Emma made sure he stayed put and kept an eye on Killian. She could, no doubt, end this thing with a flick of her magical wrist, but perhaps for Killian’s pride, she wasn’t interceding.
Blood dripped down Killian’s face where Neal had cut a gash across his right cheek, his left eye was swollen almost shut, and his ribs were burning. Neal had two swollen eyes, a puncture wound to his right forearm, and a sprained ankle from where he’d tripped over a log as Killian lunged at him.
“I don’t wish to kill you, Neal,” Killian appealed to Neal where he lay on the ground after tripping. He knelt above the man, fist still cocked and hook at his neck. “If you have another solution as to how you and your lackey can return home and I can stay here, tell me now.”
“You’ll have to kill me,” Neal growled. He grasped Killian’s forearm trying to push the hook away from his neck, but it was no use as Killian threw his weight into pinning the man down.
“There is another solution,” Emma spoke quietly from where she’d perched herself on the same fallen log which had foiled Neal.
“And what’s that, love?” Killian asked.
“I could make them forget.”
“Make them forget…”
“Anything. Everything.” She stood from the log and walked up to Killian’s side. “I could make them forget that they found you or I could make them forget that it is their mission to find you. I could make them forget who they are. It just depends on what level you want to take it to.”
“I knew she did something to Felix. Is she a witch?”
“Well, since it seems we will be erasing your memory soon enough, yes, she is a witch.”
Neal withdrew his hands from Killian’s forearm and formed a cross, apparently trying to ward her and her evil off.
Emma laughed loudly at his antics. “I’m not the devil, that cross won’t do you any good today.” With a flick of her wrist Neal and Felix were both shackled and sitting with their mouths gagged. “How about instead of erasing their memories completely, I give them false memories?”
“What do you have in mind, Swan?”
“For starters, they are going to remember that they found the remains of Killian Jones, that there was no prisoner to bring back to their commanding officer. They will feel that their mission is complete, and they’ll have no recollection of this place or me. Any ideas on where they found you?”
“Hmmm,” Killian thought as he wrapped an arm around Emma. “I think they discovered my remains way up North, they should have a grand time in these fine Confederate uniforms.”
Neal tried to yell through the gag, but only mumbled nonsense could be heard.
“That’s just mean, Killian Jones.”
“He tried to kill us,” Killian argued.
“True,” Emma agreed. “North it is. Heart of Boston? ”
Felix shook his head vigorously, “Uh-uh,” he pleaded through the gag.
“Now who’s being mean?”
“That is a little harsh,” she cackled. “Okay, I will put them on the outskirts of the North, where they might have a fighting chance,” she paused to look both men in the eyes, “if they get their shit together real quick.” She kissed Killian on the cheek quickly before telling him to back up.
Killian watched in awe, from a safe distance, as Emma rubbed her hands together and focused in on her craft. She glowed with magic and the wind swept up around them, she was positively mystical as her hair flew wildly. She was murmuring quietly, her eyes closed when suddenly a brightly colored vortex opened up in the middle of the ground.
Henry landed on Killian’s shoulder at that moment and sent calming vibes through him just as he started to experience small prickles of fear, not fear of Emma, but of the situation. As abruptly as the vortex had appeared, it swallowed Neal and Felix whole and disappeared. “Swan! You were bloody brilliant, amazing!”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Emma crumpled to the ground in a limp heap. “Emma!” He ran to her side kneeling next to her and sweeping her into her arms. “Emma, come back to me.”
“I’m okay,” Emma whispered faintly.
Killian smiled as she regained consciousness, albeit a tenuous hold on it. “I don’t mean to upset you, Emma, but I think we make quite the team.”
“Why would that upset me?”
“You passed out when I told you you’re brilliant. I wasn’t sure how you’d handle me saying we are brilliant together,” he teased.
She giggled, that shy tinkling giggle before once again losing consciousness.
He caressed her cheek with his good hand and felt the flush of her overheated skin. “Henry, what’s wrong with her, is she ill?”
Too much magic, Henry broadcast. She will be okay.
“How do you know?” Killian asked desperately. Killian listened as Henry transmitted that this had happened before, any time she used a significant amount of magic.
Gently lifting her, despite the injuries he’d sustained today as well as his previous ones, he carried her over to the lake’s edge, where she’d been sitting when he’d arrived. Sitting down, he leaned against the log and held her. He marveled at how well he felt, the magic used to keep him pain free must be very powerful. It damn sure beat morphine.
“Emma, wake up darling.” He dipped his hand in the chilly water and brushed it across her forehead.
“Hmmm,” she hummed. Stretching her body while still in his arms, Emma curled into his embrace.
Deciding it was probably best to rest he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Henry, keep watch?”
Aye aye, Captain Hook.
Killian cracked an eye open to look at Henry as he chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose it does have a ring to it.”
乂❤乂❤乂
The next time Killian opened his eyes, Emma was gone. He startled as he realized she wasn’t in his arms. A quick glance around showed she was in the lake. All that was visible was her water slicked hair and bare shoulders. “Isn’t that cold?”
Emma turned around to face him and he thanked the heavens that the most delectable parts of her body were fully submerged. “It’s wonderful once you get in.” She brought her hands up to her hair to ring it out and tie it in a knot. “Join me?”
Killian would’ve been certain his eyes had fallen out of his head except he could still see.
“Come on, you’re all bloody. Let’s get you cleaned up here instead of my basin.”
Still deep in thought over the repercussions of bathing nude with her, Killian stood up and took off his shirt. He proceeded to walk to the water but stopped when Emma asked what he was doing. “I thought you wanted me to join you.”
“I do,” she laughed, “but not with your pants on. You’ll be soaked for hours.”
Killian knew she could just dry them, but maybe that was selfish after all the energy she’d exerted today. He fumbled with the fastening of his trousers as he stalled, trying to think of anything to keep his ardor under control.
“Don’t be shy,” she teased, “I’ll turn around.”
The moment she’d turned, he expeditiously stripped down and barreled into the water. “It’s fucking f-f-freezing!” he stammered.
“Give it a minute, Jones. And you gotta get in deeper.”
Oh, how he wished to get in deeper. He internally rolled his eyes at his lewd mind. Walking in further, he noticed it did seem to warm up, in fact, the closer he got to Emma the more comfortable the water became. He dared not get too close, he was quite certain he wouldn’t be able to handle it.
“Come here,” she said impatiently. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Killian looked down at himself, he did have quite a bit of blood across his chest. He rubbed at the dried stains as he continued toward her. “Better?”
Emma pointed at her face and made a circular motion. “You’ve got a little something… well all over.”
“Ah, yes, I suppose he knocked the handsome out of me.” He’d forgotten about the pummeling he’d both given and taken earlier. Cupping water in his hand, he splashed it over his face and scrubbed.
“No one’s that powerful,” she whispered.
Killian jumped when he realized Emma was but a hair's breadth away from him. He’d felt her breath as she whispered those last words. When her hand brushed the hair away from his forehead and then cupped his cheek, he couldn’t help but lean into her palm.
As Emma wiped away the last traces of blood, Killian was lost to the depths of her bright green eyes. She didn’t look away as she worked, and he swore he could feel love simmering between them. He didn’t miss the way she glanced to his lips several times, or when her tongue lightly traced her own lower lip. That pressure deep down in his abdomen came to life, he wanted her, and not just in the carnal sense either, he wanted everything.
“You have me spellbound, Emma Swan.”
“Is that supposed to be a witch joke?”
“Not in the slightest. I am taken aback, smitten, a fan of every part of you.”
She smiled and a blush colored her pale cheeks as she looked up to him through long lashes. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
“I’ve dreamt this!” Killian exclaimed. His exuberance caused Emma to startle. “Sorry, love, I mean, this was my dream yesterday. Exactly like this.” Just as in his dream, it almost seemed like she was warning him about the kiss, or preparing him for something. Only this time, hopefully he wouldn’t be rudely awoken before getting to taste her delectable lips.
“Whaaaaa-” Emma screamed as she jumped and then unceremoniously splashed down into the water.
Confused and just a bit alarmed, Killian dove down below the surface to see what was happening. Despite the beautiful blue of the laketop, it was quite murky below and he couldn’t see much. Breaking the surface once more, he was relieved to see Emma hightailing it to the shore. He watched as she emerged, water running in rivulets from her hair and glistening as it trailed down her back. Just as her pert backside broke the surface she snapped her fingers and was fully clothed.
Killian growled as he made his way to the bank. “What happened?”
Emma snapped her fingers once more and Killian was dressed too. “A fish happened,” she shuddered. “I don’t know about you, but a slimy fish swimming across my backside doesn’t work for me.”
Killian laughed, he had to agree with her there. At least it was nothing serious this time. “So why are you snapping your fingers now, instead of…” he mimicked her wrist flicking.
“I don’t know,” Emma said, “I really don’t need to do either. It is more a physical manifestation showing I am doing something magical. A courtesy, if you will.”
“So all you need to do is think it, and it will happen?”
“Prove it,” he challenged as Emma nodded nonchalantly. He should not have been surprised that challenging her skill would only end with him being naked. “Cute,” he grumbled, quickly covering himself with his hands.
“Yes, it is.”
Killian’s eyes bugged hilariously before narrowing to mere slits. “Is that supposed to be a size joke, because I assure you, there is no truth to your statement.”
“Prove it,” she snickered.
Just as Killian lifted his hands away to let her look her fill, he found himself clothed once more.
“Hey!” Emma whined. “You’re such a killjoy, Henry.”
Henry chirped and squawked as if to say he wanted no part of this whole situation.
“Henry, my boy! Good looking out.”
“What is this, a boys only club now?”
“Oh, not at all, Swan,” Killian consoled. “Come, sit, let’s eat. I brought some things this morning.”
Sitting down along the bank, Killian passed her the canteen and set out the fruit and biscuits. They talked at great length about nothing in particular. It was more relaxed than either could remember being, and once more Killian found himself marveling at the unique sense of belonging together.
“May I ask you something,” Killian asked.
“Sure.” He noticed her hesitation, as if she was weighing the pros and cons of letting him ask her a question.
“Where are you from, how did you and Henry find each other, and how did you come to be alone?”
A nervous sounding chuckle broke from between her lips. “That’s a lot.”
Killian scooted closer to her and wrapped an arm around her. “I guess that was more than just one thing, but I’d love to know more about your beginnings, Emma.”
“You do?”
“Yes, I want to know everything.”
“Let’s get home first,” she suggested. Something about the way she said home was so endearing to Killian, as if it was his home, too. He understood her desire to have familiarity amidst if she was going to tell him her life’s story.
After packing up the basket they started the trek to the cabin. Emma reached out and grabbed his hook as if it were the most natural action in the world. He was still in awe of how easily she accepted his missing appendage.
It was already late into the evening by the time they arrived. Cleaning up and changing into sleeping clothes once more, they laid down in the darkness.
Tonight though, Killian didn’t face away from her. They lay facing each other, heads on their pillows with just the glow of the moon lighting the room softly. He stayed quiet, knowing that Emma would start when she was ready.
“Do you want the long story or the short story?”
“I want the whole story,” Killian answered, running his hand through her hair. “I want to know everything about you, love.”
A small smile sat upon her lips as she began. “I was born in Massachusetts in 1688 and I’m from a place called the Enchanted Forest.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” Killian interrupted.
“That’s because it isn’t part of this realm.”
Before he could interrupt her to find out what that meant, she placed a finger to his lips. He smiled against them and took the cue to shut up.
“When my mother was pregnant, a prophecy was told that I would become the most powerful witch of the realm. My mother’s stepmother was enraged, she’d been the ruler of the Enchanted Forest for centuries. She threatened my mother, telling her that she would kill her, my father, and me if she didn’t get rid of me.”
Killian’s heart clenched at the thought of a mother abandoning her child. He rubbed his hand up and down her arm, hoping to provide comfort.
“Of course she refused, and so my wicked step-grandmother ordered our deaths. My parents crossed over to this realm and fled to the town of Salem where they planned to live like commoners. Five years later we were living peacefully and safely, but…”
Killian pulled her closer when he sensed her distress.
“I couldn’t always control my magic. It was little things, but soon, none of the other kids wanted to be around me. They were afraid of me. My mother tried to work with me on how to control it, but I was so powerful even then, and she didn’t have the means to train me. After several of the other girls went too far in mocking me, by pretending to be possessed, they accused my mother and her best friend of being witches.” Tear tracks streamed down her nose and cheek as she remembered the anguish as strongly as if it were yesterday.
“The Salem Witch trials?” Killian asked in astonishment.
Emma nodded her head. “So many women, innocent women and a few men were wrongfully hung because of me. All because I really was afflicted. My parents had no choice but to return to the Enchanted Forest. They begged Regina, my step-grandmother for shelter. She refused, and this time she didn’t let us go. She crushed my father’s heart as a warning to my mother.”
“She killed your father?” Killian was outraged, he wanted to slay this beast who’d hurt Emma.
“No, there is a way to live without your heart in my world. If you are true love, you can share a heart. After Regina crushed his heart, my mother split her own heart in half. They live even now by sharing two halves of the same heart.
She ordered me banished, and cursed me to walk the earth alone. She also made it so my parents couldn’t leave the realm without losing all of their memories. The night before I was to be sent away, my mother pleaded to every deity to send my power animal to guide me safely back to this realm and watch over me.” She looked over to the settee and smiled fondly at Henry. “That’s how Henry and I met, we’ve been together ever since.”
Hearing his name, Henry sleepily stirred, and as though summoned, he flew over to the bed and nestled between them. Emma gently stroked a finger over his tiny head and he seemed to absolutely purr.
“Have you ever been back? To try and defeat this evil witch?”
“I can’t risk it. My parents share one heart now, if anything were to happen to one of them, they would both die.”
“But the prophecy said you would be the most powerful witch. That has to count for something.”
“The prophecy also said I’d meet my true love in the form of a…”
“Of a what?” Killian asked when she didn’t continue.
“The point is, the prophecy foretold many things and after almost three hundred years, not one of them have come true.”
“What else did the prophecy say?”
Emma pulled away from Killian’s embrace and he could detect a trace of discomfort. “What aren’t you telling me, Emma?”
Henry stirred again when he sensed the discourse. Looking to Emma, he tilted his head as if asking her a question.
“I’m not scared,” she told Henry. “But what if the prophecy was wrong?” she asked him as tears welled in her eyes. “No, no you won’t. I’ll tell him.”
Killian sat up in bed and leaned against his pillows and the wall. “You’ve nothing to fear, love. You can tell me anything. Can I tell you about my dream from this morning?” He held his arms out to her, wordlessly asking her to allow him to hold her.
Sitting up alongside Killian, Emma scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. She nodded her head, “Tell me what you dreamed.”
“I was having a conversation with Henry. An actual conversation, he was speaking.”
Emma chuckled. “What did he sound like?”
“He had the voice of a spirited boy, and he had some pretty hopeful and positive things to tell me.”
“Like what?”
“He said some heavy things, love. Are you sure you’re ready to hear them?” He could feel the tense of her body. And he knew she knew what he was going to say, but still he waited for her answer.
“Mmhmm.”
“Henry told me we are meant for each other. He said we’ve been destined to meet since you were born. And he also says he is my power animal, too. I don’t know about you, but I believe him, I think he was communicating with me while I slept. And I think that’s why you were upset with him this morning.”
“You seem pretty sure of yourself.”
“You’re something of an open book, love.”
She looked up at him seemingly daring him to ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue. “How can two people share a power animal, Emma?”
“Why don’t you ask Henry since he seems to have all the answers?”
“Because I want you to tell me.”
“The only way for two people to share the same power animal is if they are true love.” The words fell from her lips so softly that Killian almost didn’t believe his ears.
“True love,” he tried the words out. He’d surely felt a connection from the moment they’d met, and he didn’t consider it out of the realm of possibility that this woman could be his true love. “Do you believe it?”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe, Killian. I want to be loved because someone loves me for who I am, exactly how I am, not because of some stupid prophecy.” She hopped up from the bed and paced the room.
Killian felt bereft as soon as she left his arms. He needed to lay it all on the line. He knew he wasn’t wrong, his heart wasn’t wrong. “What if I told you I’ve felt a connection to you since the moment I opened my eyes and you were there.”
“I’d tell you it’s because I’ve been casting a dampening spell for your pain.”
“Not this morning when you stormed out of the cabin, and not today at the lake when Cassidy showed up. Henry was keeping watch over me then. And the connection I feel to you wasn’t broken for a single second, in fact, it only strengthened in those moments.”
Jumping out of bed he walked over to her and placed hand and hook on her arms. “Tell me you feel it too, Emma?”
“Part of the prophecy said that my true love would seek me out and would come to me in the form of a man who wasn’t whole.”
Killian held up his hook, waving it in her face. How could the prophecy possible get more accurate, he wondered, but she continued on.
“I met a man some eighty or ninety years ago, he said he had no heart, he said he wasn’t a whole man. He swore an evil witch had stolen it. Graham was so gentle and sincere. I convinced myself that he was the man from the prophecy. Despite everything that happened, I still believe we shared some form of love. It just wasn’t true love.”
“What happened?”
“He was sent to kill me, by Regina. She held his heart hostage and even had some control over his actions. In the end she killed him when he didn’t fulfill her command to end my life. He died in my arms.”
“Emma, I’m so sorry.” How could she still be the beautiful soul she was after almost three hundred years of a lonely and loveless life? He understood now how she might doubt the prophecy after semantics played a part in her heart break. Still, he didn’t see the harm in trying, he was no hired gun, and he sure wasn’t missing his heart, unless you counted the fact that Emma owned it. “Why would you deny yourself the happiness I know we could share?”
“I’ve dreamed for centuries of blue eyes and a hook, that’s the real reason I chose to give you a hook. The real reason Henry called me a liar at dinner last night. What if I am projecting my hopes, what if we try and I’m wrong again?”
“I know what I feel, Emma. I know you’re it for me, prophecy or not. And if you’ll have me, I’m in this for the long haul.”
“Killian,” she whispered, “I… I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. From the moment I found you passed out on my front porch I have felt a connection to you that I’ve never felt with anyone. I can’t explain it, but I’m afraid to hope for it.”
“I knew you felt it, too,” he murmured as he wrapped his hooked arm around her waist and brought a hand to her heart.
“I do,” she admitted. “But sometimes when things are too good to be true, they aren’t true.”
“Emma, we feel the same connection, we share a power animal, I am literally missing a hand, making me technically not whole. How much closer could we be to the prophecy? What are you so afraid of?”
“The last part of the prophecy said if I find my true love, all evil would be vanquished from the Enchanted Forest.”
“Doesn’t that mean you could go home?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what it means.” Tears welled in her eyes once more.
“What’s wrong with that?” Killian had a sinking feeling in his stomach that perhaps he wouldn’t be able to go with her. He would never make her choose between himself and her parents, but still the thought of losing her rocked him and a sadness so great overwhelmed him that his own eyes filled with tears.
“No, it’s not that,” she told him. “You could come too.”
“Did I say that out loud?” Killian asked in confusion.
Killian’s eyes widened comically and Emma beamed at him as it dawned on both of them that they’d just communicated telepathically.
“Wait, if I could come too, what has you so down?”
“I am so afraid to hope, Killian. So afraid. What if we aren’t true love? That would mean I met a man I love, but evil won’t be conquered in my realm. I wouldn’t be able to go home. And even worse, what if one day my true love did arrive. What would we do then?”
“You love me?” he breathed.
Emma rolled her eyes, “Of course that’s all you picked up from that entire-”
“Aye, that is all I am hearing, because the rest is horseshit. I don’t know how we prove this true love thing, but I believe, Emma, I can feel it.” He picked her up and spun them around in a circle. “I love you, Emma Swan, with all my heart.”
“I’m going to kiss you now,” she murmured.
“Why do you keep telling me? Why don’t you just do-” His words were cut off as her supple lips collided into his, just as their two worlds had collided. A mix of soft and sweet with dangerous and arcane. Killian only took a second to catch up, opening his mouth to hers. His hand slid into her hair grasping gently at the base of her neck, and he relished the feel of her hands as one caressed his chest and the other played with his hair.
Suddenly the air around them stilled, and it wasn’t that he couldn’t breathe, but that he didn’t need breath. Time seemed to freeze. In his mind’s eye, a flash of every memory he’d ever had, some good, most bad, flooded him. In that moment, he knew that every atrocity that had befallen him, from his mother’s early demise, his father’s treacherous betrayal and abandonment, the years of slavery, the devastating loss of his brother’s life as they fought for the Confederacy, to the loss of his hand, had all happened for a reason. He’d been set on a path by destiny itself to meet this woman, his one true love.
As soon as the thought was born, time exploded back to life as a gust of wind and light burst forth from where their lips were joined. “What was that?” Killian asked as he tightened his grip on Emma.
“That’s true love,” she gasped. “Killian! That was true love’s kiss.” She assaulted him with kisses as she laughed and cried tears of joy.
He kissed her thoroughly before taking a moment to say, “I told you so.”
“Oh my gosh, you sound like Henry,” she laughed.
Killian laughed heartily before planting another kiss on his true love’s lips. “When do we leave?”
“You’ll come with us?”
“What kind of question is that? Obviously, I am going with you.”
“I just wasn’t sure if you had anything here in this realm to stay for.”
“I have you, Swan. Everyone else dear to me is deceased.”
“I know,” she whispered as she stroked his cheek. “I saw everything,” she confessed, “when we were kissing, I saw all your memories.”
He knew it wasn’t pity he saw in her eyes, but perhaps understanding, because when they’d kissed, her past, also filled with experiences no one should have to endure, had been revealed to him. “That was certainly easier than having to tell every sad detail of my past,” he joked. He knew that Emma recognized the deflection with humor charade, and he loved her a little bit more for letting him get away with it.
“You have me and Henry now. And once we get home, you’ll have more family than you’ll know what to do with.”
Killian smiled at the idea of family. He hadn’t had one of those in a very long time. Not as long as Emma, but he was a mere mortal, his lifetime wouldn’t last nearly as long as hers.
Yes it will, Henry pushed into Killian’s mind.
“How so?”
“Hmm?” Emma asked as she broke from the embrace and led Killian back into the bed.
“Sorry love, I was speaking to Henry.”
“Alright mister, I see we are going to have to set some rules eventually.” He watched her pick Henry up off the bed and place him on a pillow that seemed to be just for him, on a nearby table.
Henry huffed in annoyance before conveying his train of thought to her so she could continue the discussion with Killian.
Emma laid back down in bed next to Killian so they could face each other again as she began to explain what Henry was trying to communicate. “My mother was a bit of a rebel in her younger days, she liked to sneak into the mortal world to see how the other half lived. I think she just had a stronger need for adventure than most. My father is a mortal, just like you. She met him when they were both out wandering the woods bordering our Enchanted Forest. He says it was love at first sight. She says it was punch first, ask questions later. Anyhow, my point is, my father ages the same as my mother now. A witch’s mate, if they’re true love, will inherit the same life span.”
“So, I’m not going to age? I’m going to be this devilishly handsome for centuries?” Killian grinned salaciously and waggled his eyebrows, causing Emma to roll with laughter.
“You are so full of yourself.”
“I’ll have you know I prefer self confident. And I will still pale in comparison to your beauty,” he exalted.
“Are you trying to charm me?” Emma asked as she edged closer into Killian’s space.
“It depends, is it working?”
“Even though I know you do not need your ego stroked even a little bit,” Emma paused to lick her lips, “I find your self confidence very attractive.”
Killian inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself, for his mind was still stuck on the word stroke. He definitely had something she could stroke, and goddammit why was his mind going there right now. Here they were, in the midst of a life altering evening, and he was having obscene thoughts. “Then in that case, yes, I am definitely trying to charm you.”
“Good,” she whispered. “I think I want you just as much as you want me, and I have since you got here.”
He could feel her body heat radiating off her in waves, and good God was she trying to kill him? Yes, she may want him, but he was quite sure she didn’t want exactly what he wanted right at this moment. Clearing his throat gruffly and attempting to inconspicuously back his groin area away from hers, he asked again, “So when would you like to leave?”
Emma blinked several times, confusion evident on her face as she processed his change of direction. “Well that depends on a couple things. I can open a portal, which would be the quickest way, or we could travel by land or by sea. If we use a portal we can leave anytime. If we go by land or sea, we have to procure horses or passage on a ship. How quickly do you want to leave?”
“As soon as you want to, darling. You haven’t seen your parents in centuries, the sooner the better, right?”
“I want to leave tomorrow, and I want to open a portal but…”
“But what?” he asked. He could sense concern in her tone, perhaps she was nervous after her reaction to the last time she’d opened a portal. Or maybe she was nervous about bringing him home to her parents? “Are you scared?”
“Not scared, but there is one thing we would have to do first.”
“Your heart’s desire, that’s all I want.” Killian caressed her cheek in his palm and leaned in to seal his words with a kiss.
“You can’t travel through a portal in your condition. The minute I rescind the dampening spell, you will be in pain. We can wait for you to heal on your own, which could take weeks, or I can heal you.”
“That’s easy enough, heal me, and we shall depart at your whim.”
“Okay,” she answered, almost inaudibly.
Killian couldn’t figure out why she seemed so unsure. “What is it, Emma? Are you unsure of your ability to heal me? Because I have faith in you, I have yet to see you fail.”
Emma beamed under his praise. “No, it’s not that, it’s just, well, healing is an extremely… physical process.”
Even in the dim moonlight he could see a hint of blush upon the apple of her cheek. “Physical how, like painful?”
“Touch, I would heal you through touch. It won’t be too painful, but it might be more invasive than you want.”
“I assure you, be as invasive as you like, my body is at your disposal.” He really meant it too, even though he was also trying to make her more comfortable.
“Are you sure?” Emma asked, propping her head up on her hand. “Because a second ago I told you I want you and you completely changed the subject.”
It was Killian’s turn to blush as he chuckled lightly. “I needed a moment to settle my… well I was slightly overstimulated and I don’t wish to offend you.”
“Offend me? When a woman tells you she wants you, isn’t stimulation a good thing?”
“I didn’t realize you were talking in those certain terms, a mere misunderstanding, I promise.” He pulled her close, so close he rested his forehead to hers. “I want you in every way, Emma.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he whispered before kissing her. Threading his hand into her hair he sought a deeper kiss, licking her lower lip and nibbling at it softly.
Her lips were pliant to his request as she opened to him and allowed his tongue to stroke hers. He felt lit up, invincible as their mouths moved together. Rolling her to her back, he slipped his hooked arm under her pillow so he wouldn’t hurt her, and placed his other hand upon her hip. Killian kissed down the column of her neck, pausing when she’d emit a particularly wanton moan, making sure to pay attention to her body’s communication.
“Wait,” she panted. Her hands, which were buried in his thick hair, pulled his head up so he could see her flushed face. “Let me heal you first. If I have to concentrate on keeping you pain free, I won’t be able to fully enjoy you.”
“We can’t have that, Swan.” He acquiesced to her lead as she pushed against him, urging him to roll onto his back.
With a flick of her wrist, his shirt was gone. He gave her a cocky grin and asked if it was altogether necessary to be shirtless, to which she rolled her eyes. He wasn’t sure if that was a yes or a no, but it didn’t really matter either. “Focus on my touch,” she whispered.
When she straddled his stomach, Killian was almost positive it was not necessary, but he’d be a fool to question this woman’s reason for being astride him. Placing each of her hands to his temples, she rubbed delicately, and Killian couldn’t help but close his eyes. The feeling was absolutely serene, his mind felt clear, and the pressure behind his swollen eye dissipated. As her thumbs rolled over his cheeks, the sting of the gash on his right cheek dulled until it was no more.
“You have three broken ribs,” she stated, “and no matter how powerful my magic is, it’s going to hurt when I reset them.”
“That’s okay, I can handle it.”
“I know you can,” she said with a sweet smile. She leaned down to kiss him deeply, a little roughly even, and Killian had to wonder if this whole healing process wasn’t an aphrodisiac for her, it certainly had him worked up.
She slithered down his body, pausing when her core hovered above his fully hardened cock. Fuck, how he wished she would rub herself against him. “Emma,” he whined.
“Shhh, I’ve got you.” She fisted his hair in one hand and placed the other flat against his rib cage. When she set to work, he thought he might be split between heaven and hell. She placed her lips to his once more, then pulled at his hair and ground her hips tantalizingly against his while at the same moment she summoned the bones of his rib cage back together.
The whimper that left his mouth was a mixture between excessive titillation and sheer agony. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to come or cry, or both.
“That,” she said, with another yank of his hair, “was the art of distraction.”
His breathing was heavy as he struggled to gain some composure. A wicked grin cut his mouth as he realized Emma Swan was a bit of a minx, and she was definitely enjoying this healing process. “Come here,” he growled, pulling her down on top of him and kissing her breathless. “That was incredible.”
“I thought so,” she smirked with a buck of her hips. She sat up and grabbed his hook, “Last part.”
Killian gave a nod of his head.
“What would you like?” she asked, placing a kiss to the curve of the shiny metal.
Killian furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Uhhh, I’d like to be healed so I can make love to you.”
Emma giggled and blushed as she told him she wanted that too. “But what do you want for your… appendage? I can give you something that resembles a real hand, it wouldn’t be yours though, unless you happen to have it, or know where it is?”
Killian’s face soured at the thought of reattaching his rotting hand, wherever it may be. “That is quite macabre, and I don’t have it anyhow.”
“I could leave it severed, but healed?”
“Why can’t I have the hook?”
“You can,” she said excitedly. “I wasn’t sure if you would want it.”
“I’ve grown quite attached to it, actually. And Henry…” Speaking of Henry, Killian glanced around and realized the little hellion was nowhere to be seen. Considerate little guy, he thought. “Henry has given me a most colorful moniker to go with it.”
Emma cocked an eyebrow, as if unimpressed. “And what would that be?”
“Why, Captain Hook, of course.”
A loud laugh burst from Emma as she slapped his chest playfully “You boys are so funny.”
“I quite like the name, it’s ominous.”
“Oh yes, so ominous,” she teased. “Am I going to have to call you that in bed?”
“If the hook brings you any pleasure, you must!”
Emma covered her face with both hands and Killian knew then and there that she’d already considered the act. “You little coquette!” Killian sat up and leaned against the pillows with Emma still straddling his lap as he waited for her to regain her composure. She was absolutely adorable.
“Are you ready,” she asked, removing his hook. When he nodded, she took Killian’s forearm in her hands and smoothed her hands over the damaged flesh. Killian watched a golden glow radiate from her palms as she massaged from his elbow down to his wrist. It wasn’t going to be pretty, but it would be healthy.
She kissed the blunted end of his arm and cradled it to her cheek. “How does that feel?” she asked with a tilt of her head.
Killian’s eyes were a little misty at the tenderness she exuded. He rubbed his arm, squeezed up and down the healed area testing for any sign of distress. “Good as new,” he whispered hoarsely. He couldn’t help but pull her into a fierce hug. As they locked in an embrace, love and understanding flowed between them, and despite his missing hand, Killian couldn’t remember a time he’d felt more complete, and he could sense Emma was feeling the same thing.
She acted first as their combined emotions spilled over into need. Killian didn’t hesitate when her lips assaulted his, in fact he pounced back with as much fervor, sucking her tongue between his lips and massaging it with his own. Breaking the kiss, he rucked up her nightie and pulled it over her head, thankful that she’d let him do that the old fashioned way.
Passion filled Killian’s eyes as he looked his fill of Emma Swan. Her breasts were full and tightened at her rosy nipples. He was mesmerized as he scanned her lissome frame down to the apex of her thighs which cradled his still clothed cock. “So gorgeous,” he muttered. He ran a finger between her breasts and down her stomach to her belly button, she was so soft and warm. A shiver coursed through her and covered her skin as he continued to touch her, hand and blunted wrist familiarizing themselves with the feel of her body.
Leaning down, Killian wrapped his left arm around her and sucked a nipple into his mouth, working her gently before switching to the other one. He jumped when he felt her hand wrap around his shaft, he’d been so caught up in acquainting himself with her breasts he hadn’t even noticed she’d magically divested him of his pants. He looked up to see Emma greedily staring as she languidly stroked his cock.
“See something you like?”
“Mmmhmm,” she hummed, never looking away from her ministrations.
Killian ducked his head and surged to her mouth once more, kissing her passionately. He could feel her rubbing herself against his thighs as she continued to work him. Halting her movements, he slid his hand between her thighs and he could feel her heat before even touching her. When he slid his middle finger into her, she broke the kiss to cry out his name. It was the most glorious thing he’d ever heard.
Killian’s cock twitched in her still moving hand as his digit explored her soaking core. His mind raced as he imagined what she’d feel like once he was buried inside her. He added another finger and Emma threw her head back for just a moment before focusing back. He smirked as he realized she really did like what she saw, she liked to watch, her pupils dilated as she stared at his fingers pumping in and out of her. Picking up the pace, he marveled at the way she thrust down upon his fingers, taking what she wanted, and as her soft moans became more needy he grazed his thumb over her clit once.
“Yes,” she panted. “Do it again.”
Killian complied, making the same pass over and over. When she grabbed her breasts to tweak her nipples he almost spilled himself, his saving grace was that she’d had to release his cock to touch herself. It took her but several more pumps of his fingers before she was calling out his name like a praise. Her whole body tensed, and she squeezed his fingers so tightly his cock actually felt jealous.
Before she’d even come down, Emma got to her knees and pulled him in for a kiss. “If your fingers are that good, I can’t wait for the real thing,” she panted between still ragged breaths.
Killian groaned as she grabbed him once more, only this time she slid her coated folds up and down his shaft instead of her hand. It drove him mad as she whispered in his ear before sucking his lobe into her mouth. He quickly flipped them so that she was on her back, and he studied her face for any sign of hesitation. When all he saw was love and desire, he thrust into her in one fluid stroke.
He had no words, he couldn’t even emote how she felt around him because a choice enough description was beyond his scope of thought. He didn’t want it to end, and so he stayed buried, enjoying the pulsing of her post orgasmic walls. When she squeezed his butt and gave a small thrust of her hips, he knew she needed more. Propping himself up on his blunted arm, he looked down at her as he pulled out and then slowly filled her back up. The wet slide of heated flesh against his swollen cock was unimaginable, and he struggled to keep his eyes open. He wanted to see her face though, wanted to watch her pleasure while taking his.
Emma wrapped her legs around his back, and her hands around his neck, and he knew she wanted him close. Placing more of his weight on her, their slick bodies rubbed together as he thrust into her over and again. Killian placed his forehead to hers as he neared the edge, wanting to be connected. When her body tensed up once more, signaling her release, he let all finesse go and pumped into her erratically. As her walls began that pleasurable flutter and clamped around his cock he came harder and more blissfully than he’d thought possible.
Killian sighed out her name while holding her close. “That was…”
“I know,” she whispered.
And he knew she did, there were no words to convey, only feelings. Unconditional love, absolute trust, bliss to name a few. They luxuriated in the peaceful embrace that seemed to permeate the entire dwelling.
“Let me get a cloth to clean us,” Killian said; but before he could even move, Emma had them bathed and spooning under the covers.
“Sleep,” she murmured, “we will have a long day tomorrow.”
“Are you excited?”
“I’m so excited, Killian, and nervous,” she gushed. “I can’t wait to see my parents, my home. And I can’t wait for them to meet you.”
Killian’s heart squeezed a little when he picked up on the pride in her voice as she expressed her wish for her parents to meet him. “I cannot wait either, my love.” Tightening his arm around her waist, he pulled Emma closer into the cradle of his body, and wishes of good night, and I love yous passed silently between them as they drifted off to sleep.
乂❤乂❤乂
“Bugger off,” Killian grumbled, as an incessant knock pounded at the door. Whoever it was, was rather insistent, and it was grating on his last good nerve. He rolled over to see Emma still blissfully passed out. They had been up quite late indulging in more enjoyable activities than simply sleeping.
Answer it, Henry projected.
It’s still dark outside, mate.
Answer it! This time Henry added a persistent chirp.
Fine! Killian projected back as he stumbled out of bed and pulled his pajama pants back on. He ignored Henry’s warning to put on more clothes as he sleepily walked to the door.
“Bloody Hell, give it a rest,” he hollered as he reached the door and pulled it open. “What is so important that has you banging on my door before sunrise,” Killian asked crossly as he stared down the young couple.
“No!” the woman cried out.
Killian studied the short brunette as she clutched at a small crocheted blanket. She looked between him and the blonde man standing next to her.
“But…”
“Shhh,” the man murmured into her hair as he pulled her into his arms. “Sorry to have woken you,” he said to Killian.
Killian stood there watching the couple and his heart squeezed as he witnessed the anguish between them. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but he wasn’t sure that was proper. “Have you traveled far? Would you like to come in and rest?”
“I used the locator spell, David. How could it be wrong?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. But we will find her.”
Dawning hit Killian the moment he heard the word spell. His heart soared a little as he realized Emma might get to see some of her family sooner than she’d even hoped.
“Killian, come back to bed,” Emma called to him, “and you better still be naked,” she added in a sultry tone. A blush broke out from his abdomen, where his pants were still hanging low, all the way up to his ears. Dammit, why hadn’t he listened to Henry when he’d told him to put on more clothes.
“Pardon me,” he grinned sheepishly, “just for a moment.”
The couple stared at him with puzzlement across their faces as he closed the door over.
“Emma!” he hissed as he double-timed it over to their bed. “Emma! Get up.”
“Why,” she whined. “Come back to bed.”
Killian jumped as she cupped his cock, doing her best to entice him back to the comfort of their bed. “Love,” he implored, “please get up, poof us dressed, and-”
“I’m sorry, but did you say, Emma?” the brunette called from the entryway.
Killian’s head whipped around to see that the couple was now standing right inside the doorway peering in their direction. He lightly smacked Emma’s hand away from his crotch before broadcasting as loudly as he could to her that they had company.
“Oh, shit,” Emma muttered as she pulled the blanket up to her neck. As Killian had requested a moment ago she poofed them dressed and then exited the bed. Who is it? she silently asked him.
Take a look for yourself, Swan. I think you may be able to tell me who it is.
Emma peered around his shoulder to take a better look. “Is this a dream?” she asked as her eyes welled up with tears.
“No, love,” he whispered with a smile.
“Mom? Dad?” Emma asked hesitantly.
“Emma!” the woman exclaimed. “It did work!”
Emma pulled Killian by his hook as she ran to her parent’s embrace. He watched as the three broke into tears, the woman talking a mile a minute and the man simply cradling Emma’s head to his shoulder.
“How did you find me? How did you even know to find me?”
“We felt it,” her mother said. “There was no doubt the moment you and your true love broke the curse. And once the curse was broken, we found you using this,” she held up the white crochet blanket, “and a simple locator spell.”
“What is that?” Emma asked, reaching out to touch the fabric.
“It was your baby blanket,” her father answered, reverently unveiling the part where her name was crocheted in a pretty purple yarn.
After introductions were made, the two couples sat down at the small dining table and Henry perched on Killian’s shoulder, offering a sense of unity, in light of Emma’s parents showing up.
Snow and David explained how Regina had been stripped of all her power and the Enchanted Forest had been immediately restored to its former glory. The people were rejoicing and had already reestablished Snow and David as their Queen and King. Their intent was to take back Castle Misthaven, and the only thing left was to bring back the long absent Princess of the Enchanted Forest.
Emma in turn told her parents how she and Killian had already planned to travel to the Enchanted Forest by portal. Within the hour everyone was ready to depart. Emma packed up the shockingly sparse amount of belongings she’d acquired over the centuries, where Killian had nothing but the clothes on his back, and his mother’s and brother’s rings.
Killian looked around and wondered how different his new home would be, would this new realm be earthly? Or would he be out of his element?
“You’ll be right at home,” Emma whispered, “and I’ll be right by your side.”
Killian leaned into her and placed a chaste kiss to her lips. I love you.
And I love you.
They both said a quiet goodbye to the cabin where their worlds had collided and their magical love had begun, before setting off to their happy new beginning.
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What’s Fair at the Fair
Amanda O’Neill loved the summer. Long days and warm nights, no school, no responsibilities, just time to have fun, hang out with her friends, and get into mischief, something she took to with relish. But one of the best part of the summer were the county fairs. She always felt a bit of a kinship with the carny folk. Outcasts, at times viewed with suspicion and derision, but people who worked hard, all the same. People who strove to bring some joy and entertainment to others...and if some of that was a bit underhanded (seriously, who actually expected to really win at carnival games, y’all know they’re rigged!) so much the better.
The county fair that set up at the fairgrounds just down the road from her house was one of her favorite places in the world, and she had been working there for four years now, ever since she was thirteen and looking for an escape from her home life which...well, which was less than stellar, to say the least. The carny folk had at first viewed the pugnacious and fiery-haired girl who simply showed up one day with some concern and confusion, but rather than jeer at them, she had simply displayed a desire for acceptance for her fierce spirit, a sense of family. The carnival staff had shrugged and figured why not. She wasn’t paid with money, of course, not until she was sixteen, but for those first three years, she had helped clean up, helped behind the scenes, did whatever she could for her newfound friends and family, spending hours and hours per day at the fair. Even at that age, she had known that it wasn’t...wasn’t actually good that her family never seemed to care where she spent her days, that they should be concerned that one of their children disappeared for long stretches of time. But...they never were.
But that was okay! Her new family, rough though they were around the edges, accepted her and even started teaching her the tricks of the trade, and upon reaching sixteen, she was able to even make a little money, and did pretty good as a hawker and was even trusted to man some of the rides. She so loved the summer!
And then time continued to pass. She turned seventeen, and it was now the final summer that she had left of high school, and she wasn’t quite certain what she was going to do after her senior year. Her grades were pretty decent, but not good enough to get her into a good college. When she brought up her concerns about her future with the other fair employees, they all laughed, telling her to enjoy the summer. They also surprised her with her own booth, something that almost brought tears to her eyes. Especially since it was suited to her strengths...literally so. She had amazed the staff before after the rides were all closed down and they were all hanging around before going home in how well she could arm wrestle. She wasn’t undefeated, but she had far more wins than losses. And so her booth was just that. People paid to arm wrestle her, and if they won, they could walk away with a cut of the overall prize money.
Some people did win, of course, mostly the guys who obviously spent way too much time at the gym, but the rule was you could only arm wrestle once, so the same person couldn’t keep playing her and taking her money. But, as before, she won far more often than she lost, and she was already making more money a week and a half into the fair season than she had all of last year.
So yeah, she was feeling pretty good about herself and definitely cocky when she spied the three of them. Out of towners, her eyes immediately saw, dressed in expensive clothes that stuck out almost like a sore thumb, despite it being casual wear. The blonde with tea green highlights seemed really stuck up, and the one with the black hair didn’t seem much better, but the auburn-haired one seemed a bit more down to earth, hazel eyes glancing at the different gaming booths with ill-disguised interest, and though her clothes were obviously designer, they were much more casual than the other two, a baggy hoodie and jeans that actually kind of surprised Amanda. Sure, the sun had set, but it was still warm out. But eh, some people wore shorts in states that had real winters, it wasn’t too unusual to see someone wearing a hoodie in the summer.
Pitching her voice to carry, she began her routine. “Come one, come all, and see how your skill matches against the mighty arms of the Amazing O’Neill!” she cried, eyes still locked on the trio as they glanced her way. “Many have tried to take my prize money, and many have failed! Come, only ten dollars for a try, and a chance to walk away with half the money I’ve earned so far today!”
They seemed interested, and Amanda blinked, slightly confused as to why she was so intent on hooking one of them...well, she had to be honest with herself. She wanted to hook the auburn-haired girl. There was something about her that perked her interest and drew her attention. She had to hide her grin as the thought struck her...not very often that a pretty girl like that would literally pay her to hold her hand! “How about you, with the hoodie?” she called, and both of the auburn-haired girl’s eyebrows shot up as she grinned with amusement, and she pointed at herself. “Yes, you! You seem like a strong girl, think you can take me?” At her question, the other girl turned and spoke briefly to her friends, and the blonde pinched the bridge of her nose, an annoyed look on her face as the black-haired girl rolled her eyes. “It’s okay, it’s okay...if you’re scared of losing, it’s fine...”
That lit a competitive fire in the girl’s eyes, and without another word to her friends, she strode briskly forward, eyes roaming over Amanda’s tomboyish clothes and figure, a slight blush dusting her cheeks, and Amanda almost couldn’t believe her luck, if she read that look right. Cute as all get out and interested in girls? Well, shucks!
Then the girl was sitting in the stool across the small table from her, pushing up the sleeve of her hoodie so that it was past her elbow, and after sliding a ten dollar bill across the table, she propped her elbow on the table, and Amanda followed suite with a confident grin. “So, to whom do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, and the girl smirked back at her, the competitive fire still burning bright in her eyes.
“Beat me and maybe you’ll find out!” she replied, and Amanda stared at her, wide-eyed for a moment before she laughed.
“Ho-ho-ho, y’all got some fire to ya. I like that!” she crowed as their hands found each other, and Amanda very pointedly ignored the jolt that ran through her at the contact as she set herself. “On your call, sweetie,” she said, and the girl nodded.
“On your mark, get set...go!”
Now...it was fairly well established at this point that Amanda, for all her lean muscled appearance suggested, was actually pretty dang strong. To date, the only woman to have actually beaten her was Jasminka, and that didn’t count, given that the Russian was part of the strong woman act (as well as a member of the competitive eating team, but that was another story...). Her school friend Akko was pretty close, but if they didn’t end in a draw, then Amanda usually took it. And so it came as a complete surprise when, instead of the quick victory that she expected, she and the mystery girl were locked immediately into an epic struggle, both of them putting all their effort into besting the other, but their clasped hands didn’t budge an inch either way. Gritting her teeth even as her face grew red and sweat started to stand out on her forehead, Amanda continued to push...at least it appeared as though her mysterious opponent was struggling just as hard as she was.
The struggle went on, with the girl’s friends starting to cheer her on, and a small crowd gathered to witness the epic showdown. And damn it if Amanda really didn’t start to freakin’ like this girl as they continued to struggle against one another. Not many people could hold their own against her, so for this girl to do so...then her hand went an inch towards her side, and she almost grinned. Okay, progress, progress was good! But then the girl grunted with effort, and their hands returned to the middle of the table. Good lord, just who was this girl?!
Then the auburn-haired girl was talking, grinning at her, face flushed and eyes glittering with the joy brought by a good competition. “You know...” she said just barely loud enough for Amanda to hear, “...the only reason I said yes is because I think you’re pretty cute.”
Amanda blinked, concentration broken. “What?” she asked, completely flabbergasted...just as the back of her hand hit the padded surface of the table. She blinked again before shaking her head, confused as to what just happened, even as the assembled crowd cheered on the girl and her friends slapped her on the back in congratulations.
The girl stared into Amanda’s shocked eyes for a moment before she laughed softly. Then she was offering her hand to shake. “Hannah England, reigning champion of girl’s wrestling, Luna Nova Prep School.”
“Oh,” Amanda replied almost dumbly, hesitating before taking the girl’s hand and shaking it. Luna Nova...it took a lot of money and talent to get into the school that was in the next town over, and if this Hannah was the champion wrestler there, then it was no wonder Amanda had lost. “Uh...Amanda O’Neill. Local delinquent, carny folk extraordinaire,” she said, blushing slightly at the amused laugh Hannah gave. “So, uh, yeah. You won. Let me get you your prize money.”
To her surprise, Hannah shook her head. “No, don’t worry about that. Like I said, the only reason I really did this is because I think you’re cute. But...I do deserve a prize. How about...your phone number?”
Amanda blinked at that, before a delighted grin took to her face. “I think that’s fair,” she said before quickly digging through her bag and finding some scrap paper and a pen, and she quickly scribbled down her phone number. “Here.”
Hannah took the paper, glancing down at it with a warm smile, and Amanda’s blush deepened at the tender expression. Then Hannah was looking back up at her. “Thank you, and you will be hearing from me, Amanda. And I have to say, if you did that well against me, then I rather expect that you not lose to anyone else for the rest of the night...”
Amanda grinned at that. “I won’t. I promise.”
And Amanda was a woman of her word. She didn’t lose a single other arm wrestling match that night, she was happy to report when she got the first text from Hannah, the first of many to come...
#hamanda#amanda o'neill#hannah england#lwa#non-magical au#summer#another cute thing#hope you like this!
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13x04 as you’ve never heard it before: Trek vs. Wars
Both do it right. Both make some mistakes. Both have good intentions. Both are brought up in 13x04. Both have crazy ass fans who need to inform you how much superior one is than the other. But uh. I just find it amusing that in a season so far that has presented us with such duality, an episode that opens with a Star Wars reference throws in a Star Trek one as well just for consistency.
I’m going to touch on both because it’s fascinating to me, particularly as both references are so clearly bonded to Jack. And I know, I know. They’re obvious pop culture references, but there’s more underneath the surface to them if that’s all you know them as.
Okay, so I’ve seen people talking here and there about Anakin and Ahsoka. I didn’t watch Clone Wars (though it’s sitting on my shelf right here, oops), so I don’t actually know about Ahsoka, but obviously Anakin is a big deal.
I’ve seen meta comparing Jack’s potential arc to Luke’s and to Vader’s, but that’s because in a lot of ways their arcs are similar, it’s just that they have different outcomes. Luke, of course, has friends and family in his court, while Anakin is under the thumb of a master manipulator in Palpatine who essentially corrupts him because of his great potential power. There’s an easy line to draw there, of course, between Asmodeus and Palpatine. And so if you lean into the Anakin comparison, you have the following:
Anakin was not a child when he was taken in by Qui-Gon for training (I mean he was but by the standards of the Jedi Temple not really)
The Prophecy regarding Anakin said that he would bring balance to the Force (Ultimately he did, there were 2 Sith and 2 Jedi left)
The Jedi Council feared his power/influence and initially forbade his training
And then Anakin consequently lost all the people he cared about or who had faith in him, starting with Qui-Gon.
Which led to him being trained by Obi-Wan who was barely out of Padawan diapers and a bit of a rule breaker himself
And lets face it had a less than stellar upbringing too (But I guess the EU is no longer canon so w/e)
And don’t forget that Obi-Wan is pretty fucking depressed in general (He describes it as his fate to be sad) but he had just lost the person with which he had a profound bond
It’s no wonder Jack aspires to be more like Ahsoka. By Clone Wars Anakin - because of his skill and the lack of leadership experience of Obi-Wan - is a bit of a cocky dick. He endangers others. He’s arrogant, prideful, rageful, prone to outbursts of emotion and ultimately imperfect. The fact that he has such great power raises him above his peers, and those who train him begin to try to impede his process rather than give him - impetuous and unchallenged as he is - a position of wider influence. This leaves opportunity for Palpatine to prey on his feelings of how unfair this situation is. And ultimately? Anakin thinks he’s doing the right thing. He thinks he’s doing good because he’s been told it’s the right thing to do by someone he trusts.
"I see through the lies of the Jedi. I do not fear the dark side as you do. I have brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new Empire."
Or paradise?
But Jack can be Luke too. The difference for Luke (just as it’s made clear in the scene of Jack in 13x04) is that he doesn’t want to become Anakin. Luke walks into that cave on Dagobah and in a nightmarish sequence this is the fear he’s presented with: that he and Vader have a great deal in common. (ftr he lops Vader’s head off and the mask explodes to reveal Luke’s face underneath) But it is this fear that allows Luke to choose his side.
This imo is a ray of hope for Jack. He knows what he wants to be: he wants to be good. He’s just not sure of what he’s feeling.
Which leads me to Spock.
Spock is also Jack. Now if you don’t know anything about Star Trek, you probably believe the hype: Spock is a green blooded alien freak from the planet Vulcan. He’s not. Spock is a half breed, half human and half Vulcan, and that’s why I’m going to compare him to Jack. That’s where these layers come from.
Vulcans breeding with humans is seen as a taboo, you see. It’s just not done. There’s all sorts of reasons for this (such as mating rituals) but among them is that Vulcans see humans as emotionally volatile (and unenlightened because of it). A half human child, therefore, is equally prone to this volatility. Spock attends Vulcan schools where he has disputes with other children and basically has to try twice as hard to BE Vulcan to prove that his human half doesn’t make him less than. This troubles his father, of course, because Sarek did fall in love with a human woman (two actually) and he loves and admires the humanity in his son. But Sarek - being wholly Vulcan - is never able to actually express this. Spock didn’t find out the true depth of his father’s feelings until he mindmelded with Picard in season 5 of TNG). Anyway, I’m wandering off topic.
The thing about Vulcans that is overlooked by haphazard pop culture references is that they do feel emotions. They feel them with deep intensity, but through societal pressure/meditation they’ve built a resilience to expressing them--a resilience that fractures every time their hormones go crazy. Spock struggles with his emotions because he has two conflicting halves to contend with, human volatile emotionality and Vulcan intensity with deliberate emotional repression. He is unemotional because he’s gone to pains to suppress it in the past, and identifying and empathizing/sympathizing with those emotions isn’t something his upbringing has trained him to do. Spock chooses to focus on his Vulcan side. As a consequence this half-Vulcan raised on Vulcan acts like a Vulcan because he doesn’t understand the emotions of the people around him, and is detached from something that a human upbringing could have taught him. Spock represents, therefore, an interesting example of duality because it is his choice which defines him:
Data: “As you examine your life, do you find you have missed your Humanity?" Spock: "I have no regrets." Data: "'No regrets.' That is a Human expression." Spock: "Yes. Fascinating."
(For those who don’t know Data’s story is more like Castiel’s, it’s a story about aspiring toward inachievable humanity)
(Author’s note: If you want an idea of how Vulcan culture works, it’s like imagine Toxic Masculinity: The Planet but instead of men being subtly forced to hide their vulnerability it’s generations of very long living, stubborn people being subtly forced to hide their emotions entirely. Nope, that still sounds like Earth)
So Jack is dumped in Dean and Sam’s world, fully grown, surrounded by all these emotions. He FEELS DEEPLY. He has strong and volatile emotions, just like Spock, that he has no understanding of how to demonstrate. Take, for example, that Jack went in to Mia and asked her to become his mother, the deep and intense emotion that motivated that arrangement. There is genuine emotion there, but Jack doesn’t know what to call it, how to identify with it, or if the feeling is good or bad (which is the greatest issue of all because he Does Not Want To Be Bad)--he only knows that it hurts. But what is he supposed to do with that hurt? Man up, maybe?
That Jack’s powers, therefore, are linked to his expressions of emotion is particularly interesting. Outbursts of emotion have been linked to power before in the show, and specifically parallels to Max Miller were brought up in this episode too. That’s no surprise. But Jack’s power is angelic in origin, so his being able to express it through emotion, which is arguably unangelic (though I have opinions on that, damn it) is a whole other kettle of cod.
Jack has been dumped in a world of emotion without the ability to empathize or sympathize. He’s trying, but it’s no surprise he’s having difficulty. Unlike Castiel who had years to begin to learn emotion long before he became human, Jack has been thrown in at the deep end, and it’s not helped at all that these tidepools of human grief are his window on that world because the one thing Sam and Dean aren’t being at the moment is emotionally consistent.
Anyway. I’d been staring at this gifset @elizabethrobertajones made and literally couldn’t put my inner trekkie to sleep. I’m sure this was meant to make more sense than it did originally, but it’s just my take on it. Both Anakin and Spock canonically experience strong emotions and both are taught by the institutions meant to train them that those emotions are dangerous. In Anakin’s case emotion helps him harness greater power. Both have to struggle with their duality, and both face prejudgement because of it. Ultimately despite their differences they both have to make a choice. Unfortunately for Jack, he has to deal with both aspects of his duality as a nephilim and whether his powers/emotions or possible lack of each make him good or evil.
Which leaves him struggling with one question: Who am I?
#meta#s13 spoilers#s13x04#jack kline#star trek#star wars#duality#long post#spn spoilers#spoilers#parallels#emotional needs#empathy#sympathy#choice#team free will#good vs bad#pop culture references#otherness#toxic masculinity#bad parenting#grief#learning#humanity#the quest for humanity#channeling my inner star trek fan
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EBooks and Enhanced EBooks: Creating, Making and Baking
The launch by Amazon earlier in the year of their Kindle Singles scheme marked a significant and ground breaking milestone in the sea change that is happening to the world of book publishing. What Amazon are offering now is a store front for short items of 10,000 to 30,300 words. Amazon spent the previous three months working with a group of authors to create a small collection of such items ready for the launch. Up until then I had been comparing the emergence of eBooks with the iTunes phenomenon and the switch from artefacts to digital music together with the associated role played by MySpace in allowing individuals and bands to showcase their material.
However, there is another pertinent forerunner in the punk and post-punk movements in the late 70s and 80s when many small independent record labels emerged both in London and, importantly, around the country in Liverpool, Leeds, Manchester, Sheffield, Glasgow and Edinburgh. Suddenly, the single re-emerged as a cultural artefact with currency and worth, something to be cherished, appreciated and talked about. The concept brought musicians, singers, photographers, designers, entrepreneurs, journalists and fans together to collectively drive the creative cultural process forwards.
One of the biggest frustrations that I frequently hear from aspiring writers is how difficult it is to get noticed by publishers. Just to get a manuscript read. Not a problem if you know someone or you have a celebrity status or even notoriety, but otherwise no reply. On the other hand, self publishing is very, very unlikely to be a route to stellar success (although it could be!). No, what schemes like Kindle Singles offer is a platform for today’s Cooking Vinyl and Postcard Records to bring together like-minded writers and then promote their work to the appropriate audience. Not only does the move from physical books to digital ones offer new distribution channels so it offers a step change in audiences as the iPod generation embraces a new medium. A generation that has grown up with Facebook and Gmail is going to have a different perspective on the epistolary novel than the generation who was taught the difference between sincerely and faithfully.
Of course none of this is new. Many writers now known for their novels began by publishing sequentially in small chunks simply to obtain a cash-flow. Raymond Chandler contributed to the Black Mask Magazine, Charles Dickens was published in London’s Monthly Magazine. The short story has always been a popular format both with readers and writers. The fact that traditionally, stories have been published in collections, either thematically or by author, is primarily to manage publishing costs – including binding, distribution and promotion. The launch of Kindle Singles changes all of this. Publishing work sequentially works for writers in different ways and not just financial ones. Writers may do other things with their time. Completing work in instalments may fit in with a broader modus operandi that involves other activities.
So how do I do embrace this new world of accessible publishing?
The following steps are taken from Amazon’s own extremely clear instructions which are available on the Kindle website together with videos an other informative material.
Step 1) Build the book Amazon recommend using Microsoft (another Seattle-based company, note) Word as a text editor which is a safe bet to appeal to the lowest common denominator to be fair. Files should be saved in the classic.doc format rather than the newer.docx or any other format. Formatting should be minimal avoiding bullet points, headers and footers etc. Page breaks should be used to delimit chapters. Images can be inserted as centred jpegs but bear in mind that the Kindle is monochrome.
Step 2) Create the title page A simple title page should be created and copyright, dedication and preface pages can be added too each with their own page breaks.
Step 3) Check text formatting Amazon recommend checking section breaks, indentations, paragraphs etc before proceedings. Indexes are not possible however Bibliographies, Appendices, Notes or Glossaries can be added with page breaks in between.
Step 4) Save as filtered HTML In order to prepare for the eBook preparation save your Word document into the Web Page, Filtered (*HTM &*HTML) format.
Step 5) Convert to an eBook using Mobipocket This file can now be converted in to an eBook. Amazon recommend an application called Mobipocket Creator. This is freely available from their website (Mobipocket Creator). During this import and build process you will have the opportunity to add an image to the cover of your book. Obviously this should image should legal and available for you to use. (It is interesting how people’s attitude to copyright issues can alter when they deal with creativity in different fields.) Whilst you can generate your own artwork relatively easily these days, if visual creativity is not your forte (or even if it is) you may benefit from a partnership with a professional practitioner who can add an extra dimension to your publication. This is encapsulated in a phrase I read recently: talented designers can draw; great designers can draw people in.
Step 6) Check book using Kindle Previewer Amazon provide a separate application, also free, with which to check your eBook. This is available here: Kindle previewer. This obviously applies to the many devices including the Kindle and the iPad etc. on which the Kindle app can be run.
Step 7) Upload eBook to Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP) Finally, all that remains is to submit your eBook to Amazon’s Kindle site. To do this you need an Amazon account. You can ue an existing Amazon.com account or create a new KDP account by following the instructions on their site. Once saved, the eBook should appear after 24-48hrs. Further details will appear after another 2 or 3 days.
That’s it, your book is published. So, what happens next? Overnight sensation or a long slow slog to build up a reputation? Yes, social networking, both virtual and real can help. Advertising also works but costs money, and furthermore takes skill to make it work efficiently and economically. There’s a reason why advertising executives drive Ferraris. My feeling is that the independent record label model holds out a route for new authors to establish themselves within a community of like-minded readers. Established smaller publishers could fulfil this role is they have a niche market. Specialist web sites such as http://bit.ly/2SwKOKS could play a part, but I’m sure other sites will emerge to focus even more finely on genres and themes.
One of the reasons that the new independent record labels of the 80s succeeded so well so quickly is that they acted as a nexus for a collection of the most talented creative people of the time. I’m sure that Love Will Tear Us Apart would have become a classic anyway, but the fact that Joy Division were signed to Tony Wilson’s Factory Records (released as FAC 23) and had a sleeve designed by Peter Saville all played apart in the creative symbiosis. Kindle Shorts offers fantastic opportunities for alternative paths for both emerging and established writers to attempt different creative works but building an audience for such works will require the emergence of new systems and services to coalesce new audiences and communities.
If you follow these instructions you could be a published writer by midnight and online globally within a few days. If you do follow this path, let me know and I’ll add a link to your Kindle Single on Manifesto Books web site.
There has never been a better time to start writing.
Source by Stephen Marwell
The post EBooks and Enhanced EBooks: Creating, Making and Baking appeared first on @Store4Ebooks - PDF Files.
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AN OPEN LETTER FROM A STAR-PUREFOODS FAN TO STAR MANAGEMENT
by Bert A. Ramirez / October 7, 2017
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/93a6358ef1621f139815bc9ce707ee41/tumblr_inline_oxhuusyxhP1v1riim_500.jpg)
Mr. RENE PARDO Star Representative, PBA Board of Governors
Dear Mr. Pardo and Company:
Sir, the Star Hotshots’ season may be captured in a six-minute stretch of their 91-88 overtime loss to the Meralco Bolts last October 5, a loss that swept them out of the semifinals in the ongoing Governors’ Cup and extended their titleless string to three years. During that stretch that started with rookie Jio Jalalon putting Star up 83-79 on a short followup jumper with a little more than two minutes left in regulation, and ended with Rafi Reavis scoring on a short stab with Meralco ahead 88-85 with just 36 seconds left in overtime, the Hotshots couldn’t score a single point.
You would agree that that six-minute scoreless spell made all the difference in ending the Hotshots’ season, and no matter the later claims that they nevertheless made it to the semis in all three conferences, it can’t be said that’s good enough for a team with a strong championship tradition, the third-winningest team, in fact, in PBA history with 13 titles. That is, of course, unless you and the team’s braintrust have lowered your standards and are willing to settle for mediocrity in the name of what your coach, Chito Victolero, has called a “rebuilding” period for the ballclub, which is debatable in the first place.
Rebuilding? How can Star be rebuilding when the core of that grand slam team of three years ago is still intact, save for previous franchise face James Yap, who has Paul Lee in his place, and three other players whom you simply gave away for various reasons? (More on that later.) Marc Pingris, P.J. Simon, Mark Barroca, Ian Sangalang, Reavis and Justin Melton are still there, and they, combined with Lee, Jalalon and Aldrech Ramos, certainly make for a core that is worthy of championship contention. A team only rebuilds when it totally breaks up its championship core.
So enough of that “rebuilding” argument or alibi. That simply doesn’t wash.
What to my mind and to that of many other Star-Purefoods faithful should be examined thoroughly (heck, I have invested all my loyalties to the franchise since it was born under the Ayala conglomerate in 1988, and I have spent a lifetime also rooting for its predecessor Tanduay of the Elizalde Group) is the way the team has been managed particularly with regard to personnel decisions. If one is to sum up the team’s fortunes this season, then the headline “Personnel blunders doom Hotshots” would be the most appropriate one of all.
How can a team as experienced as Star fail to score for more than six full minutes in a do-or-die situation? It’s simply because its core that carried it back from a 13-point deficit needed help, and didn’t get it from anyone simply because the very players who could have provided that help – Malcolm Hill and Allein Maliksi – have ironically been sent away.
We know the issues involving the sacking of the two players, which primarily focused on the need for a big man, an inside presence who you deemed could give the Hotshots better chances against teams with stellar big men like San Miguel Beer and Barangay Giñebra. But what riles us no end about these two hare-brained (sorry about the term) decisions is the players for whom they were exchanged.
Kristofer Acox, from the time he played his first game, was exposed as a mere role player, and Kyle Pascual, for whom Maliksi was primarily traded, couldn’t even get off the bench. The miniscule value of these two players – relative to the players they replaced – was further underscored in the semifinals, when Acox couldn’t even score in double figures and Star was better off playing all-Filipino while Pascual was limited to watching from the bench. And please don’t let Chito tell us that Acox’s play just dipped in the semis as there was no covering up his limited value as an import, who in the first place should be serving as the go-to guy, if not on offense, then on defense where he was expected to provide help the way Meralco’s Allen Durham does for the Bolts.
Even Pingris said so when he told a reporter, “Sana naisip niyang import siya. Di siya makapaglaro nang maayos kahit anong pilit namin. Ibang istorya talaga kapag si Malcolm Hill ‘yung nandito.” Marc added that if Hill was not replaced, he could have brought out the opposing team’s big man with his outside shooting and made things easier for the locals.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4b8e4fd23f8877173f843caf96be5e07/tumblr_inline_oxhuwzikwa1v1riim_540.jpg)
Of course, we all know what Maliksi has done for Blackwater, and no matter what you or other team personnel are saying that you’re happy for him, it screams right in Star fans’ faces that we simply got the raw end of the deal here, which flies right in the face of the basic trade rule that you have to get commensurate value for what you’re giving up, or at least something close to it.
Did we get commensurate value for Allein (even assuming he had an attitude problem), or, even before that, for R.R. Garcia (whom we gave up for just a second-rounder when he is a first-round type of player), or Alex Mallari (a crack scorer whom Tim Cone used to even rely on defending against imports), or Joe Devance, an integral part of that four-peating team but who ended up with Giñebra apparently upon the behest of SMC management?
And if we were so passionate about fielding in a big team to match up with other opposing big teams, why in the world has Chito used, for most of this conference, a three-guard lineup to the detriment of our inside defense and rebounding?
We lifetime Star-Purefoods faithful have a lot of questions here, Mr. Pardo. For one, who now actually orchestrates the transactions that take place on our team? From the time we won a grand slam and then kind of struggled the next year, SMC management seems to have taken over a great part of the decision making. This started with the pullout of Cone as coach two years ago without warning in an apparent effort to favor the popular Gin Kings, who enjoy a decided edge in SMC’s pecking order of priorities along with the Beermen.
How much power do you then have now in making decisions? Many of us here suspect that it’s SMC’s sports director, Alfrancis Chua, who now enjoys that power to make or unmake this ballclub, and that’s certainly unacceptable to us who have invested so much of ourselves supporting, rooting and going out to the playing venues and spending money to personally watch and cheer for our team, only to feel shortchanged by what are obviously decisions being made to favor not the Hotshots, but its sister teams, or Chua’s own people themselves.
Case in point: After installing Cone as Giñebra coach, Chua then named one of his protégés, Jason Webb, who had practically no coaching experience, to take over as the Hotshots’ headman. When that did not pan out, he then appointed another former protégé, Victolero, to take his place no matter if Victolero had a mediocre coaching record. We are, of course, aware that the Star-Purefoods franchise is the only PBA team with the unique distinction of having three rookie coaches winning a title right in their first year – Chot Reyes in 1993, Eric Altamirano in 1997 and Ryan Gregorio in 2002 – but their cases are unique. Those three were simply born to coach, as their records would later bear out.
Webb and Victolero are different in that though they may know enough about the game, they’re not cut in the same mold as Reyes, Altamirano and Gregorio whose coaching skills are simply unique. Victolero may be good in interpersonal skills but he falls short in terms of strategizing and drawing up a whole gameplan as well as the ability to make in-game adjustments, as witness the Hotshots’ performance in the Governors’ Cup.
It’s time to stop the mediocrity, sir, and go back to the championship tradition that the Star-Purefoods franchise has been known for. And this starts with the personnel decisions management makes with both players and coaches. Anything short of this will no longer sit well with the team’s fans, and they’re legion. They can’t go on supporting the team when they know very well that SMC management itself is not going all out to support the same team.
It’s the height of irony when a team’s top brass asks for fan support when those people themselves, in the heart of hearts of the same fans, are not doing the same.
The ball, obviously, is now in your hands.
Sincerely,
A LIFETIME STAR-PUREFOODS DIEHARD
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EBooks and Enhanced EBooks: Creating, Making and Baking
The launch by Amazon earlier in the year of their Kindle Singles scheme marked a significant and ground breaking milestone in the sea change that is happening to the world of book publishing. What Amazon are offering now is a store front for short items of 10,000 to 30,300 words. Amazon spent the previous three months working with a group of authors to create a small collection of such items ready for the launch. Up until then I had been comparing the emergence of eBooks with the iTunes phenomenon and the switch from artefacts to digital music together with the associated role played by MySpace in allowing individuals and bands to showcase their material.
However, there is another pertinent forerunner in the punk and post-punk movements in the late 70s and 80s when many small independent record labels emerged both in London and, importantly, around the country in Liverpool, Leeds, Manchester, Sheffield, Glasgow and Edinburgh. Suddenly, the single re-emerged as a cultural artefact with currency and worth, something to be cherished, appreciated and talked about. The concept brought musicians, singers, photographers, designers, entrepreneurs, journalists and fans together to collectively drive the creative cultural process forwards.
One of the biggest frustrations that I frequently hear from aspiring writers is how difficult it is to get noticed by publishers. Just to get a manuscript read. Not a problem if you know someone or you have a celebrity status or even notoriety, but otherwise no reply. On the other hand, self publishing is very, very unlikely to be a route to stellar success (although it could be!). No, what schemes like Kindle Singles offer is a platform for today’s Cooking Vinyl and Postcard Records to bring together like-minded writers and then promote their work to the appropriate audience. Not only does the move from physical books to digital ones offer new distribution channels so it offers a step change in audiences as the iPod generation embraces a new medium. A generation that has grown up with Facebook and Gmail is going to have a different perspective on the epistolary novel than the generation who was taught the difference between sincerely and faithfully.
Of course none of this is new. Many writers now known for their novels began by publishing sequentially in small chunks simply to obtain a cash-flow. Raymond Chandler contributed to the Black Mask Magazine, Charles Dickens was published in London’s Monthly Magazine. The short story has always been a popular format both with readers and writers. The fact that traditionally, stories have been published in collections, either thematically or by author, is primarily to manage publishing costs – including binding, distribution and promotion. The launch of Kindle Singles changes all of this. Publishing work sequentially works for writers in different ways and not just financial ones. Writers may do other things with their time. Completing work in instalments may fit in with a broader modus operandi that involves other activities.
So how do I do embrace this new world of accessible publishing?
The following steps are taken from Amazon’s own extremely clear instructions which are available on the Kindle website together with videos an other informative material.
Step 1) Build the book Amazon recommend using Microsoft (another Seattle-based company, note) Word as a text editor which is a safe bet to appeal to the lowest common denominator to be fair. Files should be saved in the classic.doc format rather than the newer.docx or any other format. Formatting should be minimal avoiding bullet points, headers and footers etc. Page breaks should be used to delimit chapters. Images can be inserted as centred jpegs but bear in mind that the Kindle is monochrome.
Step 2) Create the title page A simple title page should be created and copyright, dedication and preface pages can be added too each with their own page breaks.
Step 3) Check text formatting Amazon recommend checking section breaks, indentations, paragraphs etc before proceedings. Indexes are not possible however Bibliographies, Appendices, Notes or Glossaries can be added with page breaks in between.
Step 4) Save as filtered HTML In order to prepare for the eBook preparation save your Word document into the Web Page, Filtered (*HTM &*HTML) format.
Step 5) Convert to an eBook using Mobipocket This file can now be converted in to an eBook. Amazon recommend an application called Mobipocket Creator. This is freely available from their website (Mobipocket Creator). During this import and build process you will have the opportunity to add an image to the cover of your book. Obviously this should image should legal and available for you to use. (It is interesting how people’s attitude to copyright issues can alter when they deal with creativity in different fields.) Whilst you can generate your own artwork relatively easily these days, if visual creativity is not your forte (or even if it is) you may benefit from a partnership with a professional practitioner who can add an extra dimension to your publication. This is encapsulated in a phrase I read recently: talented designers can draw; great designers can draw people in.
Step 6) Check book using Kindle Previewer Amazon provide a separate application, also free, with which to check your eBook. This is available here: Kindle previewer. This obviously applies to the many devices including the Kindle and the iPad etc. on which the Kindle app can be run.
Step 7) Upload eBook to Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP) Finally, all that remains is to submit your eBook to Amazon’s Kindle site. To do this you need an Amazon account. You can ue an existing Amazon.com account or create a new KDP account by following the instructions on their site. Once saved, the eBook should appear after 24-48hrs. Further details will appear after another 2 or 3 days.
That’s it, your book is published. So, what happens next? Overnight sensation or a long slow slog to build up a reputation? Yes, social networking, both virtual and real can help. Advertising also works but costs money, and furthermore takes skill to make it work efficiently and economically. There’s a reason why advertising executives drive Ferraris. My feeling is that the independent record label model holds out a route for new authors to establish themselves within a community of like-minded readers. Established smaller publishers could fulfil this role is they have a niche market. Specialist web sites such as http://bit.ly/2SwKOKS could play a part, but I’m sure other sites will emerge to focus even more finely on genres and themes.
One of the reasons that the new independent record labels of the 80s succeeded so well so quickly is that they acted as a nexus for a collection of the most talented creative people of the time. I’m sure that Love Will Tear Us Apart would have become a classic anyway, but the fact that Joy Division were signed to Tony Wilson’s Factory Records (released as FAC 23) and had a sleeve designed by Peter Saville all played apart in the creative symbiosis. Kindle Shorts offers fantastic opportunities for alternative paths for both emerging and established writers to attempt different creative works but building an audience for such works will require the emergence of new systems and services to coalesce new audiences and communities.
If you follow these instructions you could be a published writer by midnight and online globally within a few days. If you do follow this path, let me know and I’ll add a link to your Kindle Single on Manifesto Books web site.
There has never been a better time to start writing.
Source by Stephen Marwell
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