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truerescreatuconfessions · 3 years ago

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The past few days have been like a slap in the face so I'm sorry but I'm have to say this. I apologize to everyone but this is going to be long. I am aware that Pat will probably never see this post so it's pointless, but I have to say it anyway.

First, I'm going to start with a positive. Thank you to Lilith for being brave enough to pass on that anon message to Pat. Thank you also to Burrito for giving us a place to voice our concerns where they can't be shut down, whether Pat chooses to listen or not.

Now to business. I'll start with you Pat, on the off chance that you'll someday read this somehow. As people have said, no one is complaining about your recolor OAK. Please stop trying to turn it to that because it's not that. What we are complaining about is the absolute silence with which Dan received not one but 6 OAKs. The fact that many people on staff had no idea this was an option while Rumor, who I'll get to in a bit, also got one. I have spoken to many staff and ex-staff and not a single one of them knew that OAKs were ever part of staff pay or rewards. The ones I've spoken to also hadn't ever heard of this OAK test in any way. The way it was handled with Dan covering it up and saying "we were testing to see if there was interest" was clearly him backpedaling and now it just sounds like people are just rushing around to cover his ass. I don't have to repeat what at least a dozen people have said on this blog but I will. You don't gauge interest by quietly adding a dozen OAKs to the site and saying "oh, if someone finds them completely by accident then people are interested, otherwise no one cares." You gauge interest by posting a poll, by asking people in a place where everyone can voice it, and by making it front-and-center. I know you said you aren't talking about the subject anymore, but you skirted around the sheer number of OAKs Dan got by pretending we didn't say anything about them.

About the bans you claim "never happened." There is screenshot evidence from Kina, dozens and dozens of them, that Dan cheated for her and others. Ok, screenshots can be doctored, what about the video she sent in? Was that also doctored? If those right there aren't compelling enough evidence to ban Dan, why were four people banned for screenshots? Hell, Zuzu, Shinigami, and Shinohara were all banned for speculating that Dan was cheating during the name clearing. Zuzu was allowed to return, the other three were not. What rules did they break? Did they cheat? No, they talked, exactly like you constantly encourage us to do, about how they felt and what they thought was going on. They were banned. So please Pat, never tell us that "no one is banned for voicing an opinion" because that is categorically untrue.

You might tell us there are other reasons behind the scenes. Ok, let's say that's true. Why were they banned within a day or so of those screenshots coming to light? Why was that the catalyst moment? No one else was banned and unless they had a secret cheating ring with exactly 0 other people involved it sure sounds like those screenshots were the reason.

Also please never say Dan doesn't give special treatment to people. Rumor has been banned multiple times for cheating and abusing staff tools. He still gets an OAK. Omni is a known hacker, still enjoying the site like nothing ever happened. Juke was literally banned for running a hate blog, which is still active when anyone is brave enough to post on it, currently not only back but on staff.

When Rumor was banned, he got to move all his pets to Dan's account and they were kindly returned when he was allowed back on the site. Kina also moved all her pets before she was banned but that was determined to be "unfair" and "not allowed" so they were all returned to her account. Then a conveniently-timed name clearing happened.

Let's look at that name clearing for a second. Dan repeatedly and constantly told us that he was busy and didn't have time to refresh on the site all day for the clearing. Amazingly, he was online for every single clearing. Every last one of them. The odds of that are astronomical when you consider he claims he sleeps, eats, goes out with friends, and works 8 hours a day. He also got tons of incredible, high-value names. These facts are the reason Hell and the rest suspected him of cheating in the first place and honestly that seems like a fair assumption.

You say we need to speak up, but we did. Half a dozen people on that discord said they felt horrible about something and you basically swept it under the rug by saying "oh, it took longer than planned and we didn't say anything publicly but it'll be there soon I promise. Now never speak to me about this again and I refuse to respond anymore." There's been no information anywhere on Res about anything regarding this other than a quick post Dan made only after he was called out multiple times for the number of OAKs he suddenly had.

A minor complaint that I've seen a dozen times on the SB is that new items keep getting quietly released so anyone that does quests suddenly finds themselves failing them because they don't have the items stocked up. Honestly makes me happy I don't waste time with quests. Maybe one or two items doesn't warrant a full update, but isn't that exactly what the changelog is for? For minor additions, fixes, updates, etc?

Another minor complaint I've heard from a few sources is that people continue to spam the SB with copy paste from the site. There was even a forum post about it that no staff addressed, unless that's changed since I last checked. I've seen it happen constantly while staff are on the SB with no policing of it. Why should users listen to this rule, which was added because enough people complained about it happening, when staff don't bother to uphold it?

Now to Rumor. His latest blog honestly boils my blood in so many ways. If his real information was given out and doxxed then that is absolutely disgusting and I do not stand for that. No one deserves it. I am starting this section by saying that because I want to make it clear that it's not ok that that happened, if it did. That doesn't mean I like him or agree with any other part of that blog.

Yes, I'm sure he worked long hours as a CM. You know who else did? Gunmetal, Dess, a bunch of other CMs. Someone else? All the artists, all the support and mods, all the writers. His blog makes it sound like it was just him putting in the hours and that it was purely his idea about all those events. Remember, before we got to a point where staff didn't know what was going on with events because no staff talk, staff used to all contribute together to events. Or maybe they didn't, I don't know, but they at least knew what was going on so I assume they had some input. I remember a time when asking on the SB about an event with staff around, regardless of their position, meant you could get an answer. Nowadays we have staff that have less idea than the users what's going on with an event. Staff like development, who you would assume would know everything about the event that they helped create, or mods, who should probably at least get an overview of the event if they're going to be able to help users.

Speaking of other staff helping with events. Is Rumor pretending he wrote every piece of those events on his own? Why are no writers mentioned anywhere in his list of people that spent many long hours working? He obviously can't pretend he drew everything for the event, but is he implying he wrote everything?

You say people on that list are "deserving" of OAKs Rumor. Schemes has been staff for almost no time compared to some of the old staff that you decided didn't deserve listing. Juke was banned and then unbanned, obviously more deserving than the ex-staff that still frequent the site and have never been in trouble.

Now let's turn to the thing that made me want to scream. You say to "just speak up" more. I've seen at least 8 different people, off the top of my head, told to "stop talking about it" in the SB when they voice a concern and it goes on longer than one or two sentences. Not a single one of the people I'm thinking of was being rude or starting something, they were trying to express themselves and basically being told to shut up. Often they're told to "take it to the forums" which works about as well as just saying it out loud in a room alone. No one reads the forums. Or at least very few people. Staff never responds to suggestions, not staff that can make those changes anyway, mods do sometimes and rarely an artist. Posting in the suggestions forum is like yelling into the void and hoping the void yells back. The absolute only way to be heard in the suggestion forum is advertising it nonstop on the SB and even that barely gets any staff looking.

You say this lack of communication is the reason many people have quit? Yes, that's very true, the exact opposite way you imply. People have left the site often because their feelings are silenced and their opinions completely ignored. No one reads their posts, staff don't respond to them except to tell them they're wrong or to tell them to stop talking about things, and their friends get banned for nothing while staff are allowed to continue cheating with no consequences. So you're right about that, people do leave over the lack of communication, but it's the lack of communication and understanding from staff that drives them away.

I know Pat will probably never see this, but if he does, or if someone is brave enough to link it, maybe he'll hear it. At this point considering his reactions to the people that are trying so very hard to make their voices heard on the Discord I doubt it but I can always hope.

#Rescon #RescreatuConfessions #TrueRescreatuConfessions #patrick #lilith #burrito #dan #rumor #kina #hell #zuzu #shinigami #shinohara #omni #juke #gunmetal #dess #schemes

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searchingwardrobes · 4 years ago

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I Promise to Kiss You (Before You Die) : 3/7

I apologize for not posting yesterday like I was supposed to. I wasn't feeling well and went to bed early. This chapter has some iconic scenes from Little Women, so I hope that makes up for it! Thanks again to the mods of @captainswanmoviemarathon and to @hookedonapirate for her beta skills.

Summary: Emma noticed him first, never forget that, and while all four of the Lucas sisters love Killian Jones, no one loves him the way Emma does, of that she is certain. Killian Jones also made her a promise. Sure, she was only twelve when he made it, but one day he’ll realize what it meant. One day, she hopes, he’ll get over her sister Ruby and finally notice Emma. A Little Women AU

Rated: T

Also on Ao3 , updated every Thursday.

Tagging:@snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @let-it-raines @teamhook @bethacaciakay @xhookswenchx @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @stahlop @scientificapricot @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl @profdanglaisstuff @carpedzem @ohmakemeahercules @branlovestowrite @superchocovian @sherlockianwhovian @vvbooklady1256 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan @xsajx *If anyone wants to be added or removed from this tag list, please let me know! I think some people asked to be added since I first posted this, but life has been so crazy I am blanking!*

Chapter Three: On Walden Pond

Winter that year was an enchanted one for Killian Jones. The weather, for one, was something out of a dream. All he’d ever known in London was the bitter cold, the icy wind, and the dirty slush. The world was rarely a pristine winter wonderland, and even when he saw glimpses, it was gone just as quickly, trampled beneath the hooves of too many horses and too many wagons on the crowded streets. Here in Maine, he often woke to an endless expanse of glittering white, unmarred and almost blinding in its purity. Icicles caught the sun, splashing a prism of colors onto the windows. Then there was the trappings of winter that he’d never experienced before: sledding, ice skating, and sleigh rides filled with fun and laughter alongside the Lucas girls.

The snow covered landscape was currently distracting him from his studies. He couldn’t stop feasting his eyes upon it, delighting in the nature spread before him. The endless white interrupted by the dark green of firs, the brilliant reds and blues of so many birds, and the occasional umber of a graceful deer. He never knew he was starved for such things until now.

Today it was a flash of gold, however, that caught his eye amidst the snow. A gold head, sans the red wool hat she should have been wearing. Her dress was topped with a thin red shawl, but her coat was nowhere to be seen. Killian frowned at the sight, then glanced around the library for his tutor. David had slipped out to give him quiet space to work, so Killian abandoned his Latin declensions and headed down the hall, through the kitchen, and out into the back yard. There Emma was, pacing back and forth on the Lucas side of the fence.

Killian paused, watching as she kicked at the ground, sending puffs of snow flying up into the air. He leaned against the fence and called out to her breezily, “Emma, what are you doing out here? And without a coat or hat. You’ll catch your death of cold.”

Emma startled at first, clearly not hearing him approach, but she quickly schooled her features into one of carelessness. She shrugged her slim shoulders. “I have gloves, which is more than I had before Granny.”

He nodded, even as he took in her threadbare shawl and the holes in said gloves. “Aye, it was the same for me on the streets of London.”

Emma’s eyes widened as she neared the fence. “Was your mother really an actress?”

“Aye, Uncle Nemo disapproved of her. As for my father, he left when he grew bored of us. When Mother died, I didn’t even know Uncle was looking for me.”

Emma scrambled up onto the bottom rungs of the fence and leaned over the top as he told his brief tale. He noticed then the leaves caught on the crown of her head and how disheveled her braid was. He thought he detected a red mark upon her cheek and frowned.

“Why are you out here in the middle of the day, Emma?”

She sighed and her shoulders slumped. “I got kicked out of school. For fighting. And I don’t know how I can face Granny or Belle. I thought about going to Aunt Regina’s to get Ruby, but I’m more afraid of Auntie than Granny.”

Killian couldn’t say he blamed her on that front. He reached over and pulled open the gate. “Well, I can’t soften the blow, but I can at least offer an ear and a cup of cocoa.”

“Truly?” Emma squealed as she jumped down from the fence with the type of energy only a twelve year old could muster.

Killian smiled and bowed exaggeratedly as she stepped through the open gate. “Of course, m’lady. As much cocoa as you can consume.”

She giggled. “With cinnamon?”

“Naturally.” He winked and offered his arm.

That was when Emma’s crush began in earnest, though she knew it was hopeless. He and Ruby were rarely apart, and Emma saw the way he sometimes looked at her older sister. When she heard he’d danced with Mary Margaret at Sally Moffett’s coming out ball last weekend, she was suddenly worried the rumors of a proposal weren’t just rumors. And she noticed even Belle blushing at him over the top of whatever book she was buried in. Why would he ever notice Emma?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emma did indeed get a lecture from Granny on the importance of using one's words and not one's fists when facing injustice. Emma retorted that it had been her words that had gotten her slapped across the face by Minnie Moffett.

“I told her that her father was a tyrant sending children to early graves.”

“Emma!” Granny scolded.

“I only repeated what you said last night at dinner.”

Granny sighed and put away her knitting. She gestured for Emma to come near, and the

child came eagerly. She was the only one still small enough to sit upon Granny’s lap, and truthfully was enjoying it for much longer than the others had. No one said anything about it, however, knowing Emma had gotten precious little affection in her earliest years. Emma snuggled close to Granny, resting her head upon the old woman’s shoulders.

“Emma, my dear, while what I said about Mr. Moffett’s silk mill is true, I didn’t intend for it to go farther than our kitchen table.”

“But Minnie was turning her nose up at my dress,” Emma retorted, “saying it was old fashioned and threadbare. She said silk was all the rage now, that her father milled it right here in Storybrooke and that’s when I said she’d never get a penny from the Lucases. That we would rather wear muslin than hurt little children.”

Granny remained quiet, running her hand over Emma’s hair as she rocked back and forth. Finally, she spoke gently to her youngest child.

“Emma, it makes me happy and immensely proud to know that my girls stand up for what’s right. However, there is a way to go about it without attacking others. If we speak in a voice of hate, we are no better than the oppressors we are standing against.”

“So how do we help the children at Moffett’s Mill?”

“By making up the poor baskets, by baking for the Sunday school parties the church gives, and fighting for our right to vote. When women can vote, I bet children won’t have to work in factories anymore.��

“That could take forever!” Emma exclaimed.

Granny chuckled. “Not forever. We may not see it for ourselves, but one day, it will be so.”

“I only shoved Minnie after she slapped me,” Emma grumbled.

“I believe you, child.”

Nevertheless, Emma wasn’t allowed back at school until the following Monday, which seemed a cruel injustice since Minnie hadn’t been punished at all. Emma’s teacher would never admit it out loud, but it was painfully obvious that he considered Emma somehow morally depraved for being an orphan. Though Killian Jones had been an orphan, and no one seemed to think less of him.

“He’s rich,” Mary Margaret had explained with a shrug, “and he’s a boy.”

Emma sincerely hoped Granny and the rest of her fellow suffragettes got them the right to vote sooner rather than later. The list of things in the world that were unfair seemed to get longer every day. Of course, there was one injustice that had nothing to do with suffrage and everything to do with Ruby and her infuriating beauty. Killian was mesmerized by it, and it drove Emma absolutely crazy.

For one, Killian left far more notes in the hedge for Ruby than he did for the other Lucas girls. The notes he left for Emma in particular were downright babyish, and he always wrote “to my little cygnet.” Emma wanted to crumple them up in her fist and toss them in the fireplace, but she could never bring herself to do it. Then there was the way Killian flirted with Ruby. Belle wanted to know just how much Emma could possibly know about flirting. Emma retorted that she was twelve, not blind.

One day, Emma was at her desk sketching the snow covered fir trees from her window when she spied Killian chasing Ruby around the yard. She wasn’t sure what they were fighting over, but Killian was attempting to wrestle it away from Ruby by grasping her about the waist. Emma frowned and slammed her pencils down upon the desk so hard the tip of her green one broke. She grumbled and stomped down the stairs. When she flung the kitchen door open and stepped outside, Killian turned to her with a wide grin.

“Good afternoon, Emma!”

“Hi, Killian,” she mumbled back. “I was trying to draw and the two of you are being way too loud.”

“Sorry,” Ruby chuckled, “Killian was trying to steal my figs.”

“And you promised to share,” he retorted, trying to snatch one out of her hand again. He grasped Ruby’s wrist, but she switched the last fig to her other hand and popped it in her mouth. Killian did not release Ruby’s wrist, and Emma frowned.

“If you still want me to show you the wishing well, we need to get started,” Ruby said around a mouthful of fig.

Emma’s eyes lit up. “I’d like to go too!”

“Emma,” Ruby groaned, “you’re too little. You’ll get tired and complain.”

“No I won’t!”

“Yes you will.”

Emma’s eyes flashed. “You’re just hogging Killian!”

“Emma, that’s quite enough with your school girl crush,” snapped Ruby.

Killian laughed. “That’s ridiculous, Ruby. Emma’s just a little girl!” He turned to Emma with a dimpled grin and a wink. “It will be many moons indeed before she has to fret about such things. Am I right, cygnet?”

“Stop calling me that!”

“A cygnet is a Swan, love. It shows I’m fond of you.”

“A cygnet is a baby swan, and I’m not a baby!”

Ruby laughed. “Oh Killian, don’t hurt her feelings. She’s imagining herself as the future Mrs. Jones, lady of the grandest house in Storybrooke.” Her voice dripped with elitism as she pretended to fan her face and swoon.

Emma’s cheeks grew hot as she clenched both hands into tight fists at her side.

“You are the biggest hypocrite in all of Maine, Ruby Lucas!” she shouted. “Teasing me when everyone in Storybrooke knows you’re hunting for a proposal from Killian.”

Killian’s eyes widened and his jaw came unhinged just a bit as he looked over at Ruby. She wasn’t looking at him, however. Her eyes were flashing fire at Emma, and rage flared her nostrils.

“How dare you say such a thing! Whatever could cause such a ridiculous thought to even enter your brain-”

“It isn’t that ridiculous,” Killian frowned, his face unable to hide how her words wounded him.

Emma gave little thought to Killian’s feelings, too thrilled by the reaction she’d elicited in her sister. She gave her chin a haughty tilt and flipped her braid off her shoulder saucily.

“Everyone in town is gossiping about it. The way you’ve flung yourself at the boy next door in desperation for a proper match.”

Killian blanched then. “Desperate?” he whispered.

Emma’s gaze skittered to him, and her heart sank for just a moment at his devastated expression. For that reason, she didn’t see Ruby launch herself across the lawn until it was too late. Soon, the two of them were wrestling upon the snowy ground and screaming like hissing cats. Their cries brought the rest of the Lucas family running. Granny and Mary Margaret pulled Ruby off her little sister, and Belle rushed to comfort a now weeping Emma. Her hair was ripped from its braid, and she had a cut on her cheek from Ruby’s fingernails. Ruby didn’t get out unscathed either. Her dark hair was riotous and wild, pulled free of the pins that had held it out of her face, and her cheek was red from Emma’s fist.

“I’ll never forgive you for this, you little brat!” she screamed.

“Ruby!” Granny admonished. “What could the child possibly have done?”

Ruby fell in a heap upon the ground, weeping. Mary Margaret sank to her knees and gathered her close. Emma peeked out from the shelter of Belle’s arms and was relieved to see that Killian had disappeared. No doubt he thought they were completely out of their minds.

“How could you, Emma?” Ruby wept. “He’ll never come back to see us now. Not if he thinks we’re scheming for his inheritance.”

“Who?” Mary Margaret asked, her brow furrowed.

“Killian!” Ruby cried.

“We’ve never schemed for any proposals,” Belle pointed out matter-of-factly.

“We certainly have not,” Granny stated firmly, “and I highly doubt Killian believes such a thing.”

“He will,” Ruby said, tears flowing once again, “because Emma told him just to spite me, and now our friendship will be ruined.”

“It’s only ruined because you were so mean,” Emma countered. “You made it seem like marrying him was disgusting.”

“It is disgusting!” wailed Ruby. “You know how I feel about marriage, yet you slandered my name to Killian, making me seem like nothing more than an insipid, silly girl.”

Ruby had risen to her feet by this time, clutching her skirts in her white-knuckled hands. She spun away from her family and fled away; off into the woods where she so often found solace.

Silence fell amongst the rest of the Lucas females, and Granny sank wearily onto the bench beside the barren rose trellis.

“Emma,” she sighed, “when will you learn to control that sharp tongue of yours?”

“Me?!” Emma cried out, scrambling to her feet. “Ruby needs to learn to control her temper!”

“You’re right,” Granny admitted, “but you were both in the wrong here. What’s worse, you hurt poor Killian in the process.”

Tears rolled unbidden down Emma’s cheeks even as hot anger rose within her chest. “I know we hurt him! The worst part is, Ruby is too blind to understand why!”

Not wanting to hear her family confirm what she already suspected - that Killian was smitten with Ruby - Emma turned and fled up the stairs to her room. She flung herself across her bed, indulging in a rare fit of weeping.

It turned out, however, that Ruby was wrong. Killian left a note for her and one for Emma that very night in the hedge. They were both silly, with a little cartoon drawing at the bottom, with no mention whatsoever of the embarrassing argument and ensuing fight between the sisters. Ruby had rewarded Killian with a tight embrace and a kiss to his cheek, much to Emma’s chagrin.

Ruby did, however, keep her vow to hold a grudge against Emma, and in so doing, kept Killian away from her as well. Emma was relegated to watching them from her bedroom or parlor window, her heart sinking at the beaming smiles and bright eyes Killian bestowed upon her sister.

“Ruby will never forgive me,” Emma sighed one day, her forehead dropping to the frosted window pane. On the other side, Killian and Ruby were having an enthusiastic snowball fight.

“I’m sure that isn’t true,” Belle encouraged, glancing up from her book.

Emma wasn’t so sure.

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

Emma ran over the hills, her ice skates thumping against her thighs. When she drew nearer to Walden Pond, she could see Ruby and Killian laughing as they raced across the ice.

“Wait for me!” she cried as she scrambled over the last hill.

Ruby looked at her with harsh narrowed eyes, then turned away with a haughty tilt to her chin. She grabbed Killian by the arm and dragged him farther across the ice. Emma blinked back the tears that pricked at her eyes, then pressed her lips together in a thin, angry line. With determination she started to buckle the skates to her boots.

“I’m coming, Killian!” she shouted as she hobbled on the thin blades to the edge of the pond.

Killian looked in her direction at the sound of her voice, but Ruby told him loudly, “Ignore her!”

He still looked toward Emma who was edging out onto the ice on wobbling legs. Ruby shoved him in the shoulder and said something to him in a voice too low for Emma to catch. Then Killian shrugged and leaned forward to race Ruby across the pond. Emma started to shuffle her feet faster, pausing every now and then to steady herself.

“I want to race!” she called out, but her sister and Killian were skating quickly away from her.

Emma was in the center of the pond now, cursing herself for not being faster on her skates. One moment she was pushing off across the ice, and the next the bottom dropped out from beneath her. The icy waters of Walden Pond hit her like a thousand knives as she plunged into the black depths. She screamed but it was cut off as her skirts dragged her quickly under. Panic seized her immediately, and she pushed up towards the surface. Granny had made sure they all knew how to swim, her feminist ideals surpassing any scandalous notions about ladies swimming, and Emma was glad for her eccentricities as she kicked and pushed down at the water with her hands. She managed to lift her head above the surface, but the bitter cold seeping into her bones was already making her sluggish. She knew she was being pulled under once again by the weight of her skirts and the fatigue that was washing over her. A cry clogged her throat as fear gripped her. What if she drifted below the ice and was trapped?

A strong hand grabbed the back of her coat just before her head slipped back under. She could vaguely hear Killian’s groan and the sharp crack of ice. The pond was giving way beneath him!

“Emma!” Ruby’s terrified scream penetrated her foggy brain. “Grab this!”

There was a thick tree branch right in front of her, and Emma clumsily grabbed it. However, her mittened hands were like blocks of ice, and she couldn’t get a firm hold of it. She started to weep. Was she going to die?

“Killian!” Ruby screamed. “The ice!”

The sharp pops of cracking ice reverberated across the pond.

“I won’t leave her!” Killian shouted, and he reached into the icy waters to grab Emma beneath the arms. He was halfway in the water now, but grabbed ahold of Emma with one arm and the tree branch with the other. The ice continued to crack as he wriggled backwards, still holding onto Emma. She tried to help him, but she had never been so tired, her brain never so foggy. Behind them, Ruby yelled with a feral cry as she pulled on the other end of the tree branch. Finally, Emma felt her legs scraping across a frigid surface, then she felt dirt and snow beneath her. Killian collapsed, his breaths ragged, his arm still holding her. He only gave himself a brief respite, however, before he clambered to his knees beside her.

“We have to get her out of these wet clothes, quickly,” Killian told Ruby as he began to pull at Emma’s coat. She was in and out of consciousness as they pulled off everything but her shift then wrapped her up in Ruby’s outer garments. Killian scooped her up and raced through the woods back to Orchard House. The arms of his coat were damp too, but his chest was warm against her.

Emma shivered, feeling brittle as ice, Killian’s face swirling above her. “I love you,” she burrowed further into his coat, “but you don’t love me back.”

“Of course I do, little cygnet, I love all the Lucas girls.”

That wasn’t what she meant.

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

Emma’s eyes flickered open; she wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep. She was warm beneath piles of blankets, and her stockinged feet were toasty. Someone had clearly slipped a bed warmer beneath the feather bed. A hand was gently caressing her forehead, and someone else’s arm slipped about her waist. She shifted to see Ruby cuddled up on her left and Belle on her right.

“Ruby Lucas! Did you walk all the way from Walden Pond in nothing but your petticoats?” a voice cried from across the room.

Emma lifted her head just enough to see Mary Margaret in front of the fire, hanging up their wet clothes.

“As if she even noticed,” Belle laughed softly, hugging Emma tighter.

“Thank you for saving me,” Emma said in a scratchy voice.

Ruby hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “Oh forgive me, Emma! If anything had happened to you . . .” She trailed off as if the idea was too terrible to even contemplate. “Thank God for Killian.”

Yes, Killian had saved Emma’s life, and in doing so, he had made her fall even more in love with him.

“Ruby?” Emma whispered. “Do you love Killian more than me?”

“Don’t be silly,” Ruby laughed. “I could never love anyone as I love my sisters.”

Emma smiled and snuggled deeper into her sisters’ embrace. “Good.”

#cs ff #captain swan movie marathon #csmm #cs little women au

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thesims4blogger · 6 years ago

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The Sims 4: New Game Patch (June 18th, 2019)

Remove all MODS and Custom Content before updating your game

UPDATE: 6/18/2019 – PC 1.52.100.1020 / Mac 1.52.100.1220

Hiya Simmers! Is it hot outside, or is that just my gland problem? Anyway, let’s not worry about that – we’ve got some awesome new stuff to talk about! With all this Summer heat and with Sims 4 Island Living’s release just around the corner, we’ve got a few new free updates we are so excited to share with you! So let’s slap on some sunglasses, squeeze into that swimsuit, and dive on in… What’s New?

Randomize Traits Button:

A Randomize Traits button has been added to CAS and in the Live Mode Age-Up Molecule. Oh yes, it’s now just right there, waiting to be clicked. Over and over and over and over. I can’t really believe it either, but here it is. The dark days without this small hero are now just a distant unpleasant memory. From here on out, if you just want to grab-and-go your Sim’s personality and get the heck outta CAS, or if you want to add a little challenge to who your Sims might be, it’s just one click away. Jeepers, this feels good. Seriously, I’ve been wanting this forever. Lounge Chair:

Everyone (even you) gets a FREE LOUNGE CHAIR! That’s right, we’ve added a delightfully Portable Lounge Chair, so you can now lounge by the pool the way you’ve always wanted: Laid back. With your mind on your Simoleons and your Simoleons on your mind. It’s Pride Month!

Show your pride with some fantastically colorful new clothing. The rainbow leggings are my personal favorite. Nah, maybe the body suit is my favorite. But now that you mention it, I can’t stop dressing my Sims in the new t-shirts — created in partnership with the It Gets Better Project — so I guess I just love it all! In addition, we’ve also included a selection of decorative Pride flags for hanging on your Sims’ walls. Finally, we’ve updated our bathroom door sets in-game so that every bathroom door also includes a gender-neutral version for builders, and includes a full suite of color swatches for mixing and matching to your heart’s content. Happy Pride Month, everyone! Stilt Foundations:

Or as I like to call them, High Heels for your House. Or House Heels. These things don’t need to be limited to just the tropics. Stilts are a great partner in crime to manipulated and flat terrain alike in any biosphere. You can find them in Build Mode alongside all the other regular Foundation types. Now go get your stilt on. Further Eaves Extension:

Now you can pull your Eaves… further. More Door Colors:

Ok, we may have gone a bit overboard here… There are 350 new color swatches spread across all of the doors and arches in the base game catalog. If you’ve ever wanted matching doors in Light Brown, Reddish Brown, Brown, Dark Brown, Gray, White, or Black, then this is certainly the update for you! A Couple New Lot Traits:

Clothing Optional: This new venue-only lot trait will inspire your Sims to — you guessed it — get nude.

Off-The-Grid: Now you can live out your nomadic fantasy on any lot. Applying this lot trait will remove your Sim’s use of power and running water, but on the upside it keeps your bills down. Keep a lookout for existing objects with the “Works Off-The-Grid” note in the Buy Catalog.

More Toddler Diaper Colors:

We added some L’il Swimmies Splashy Diapers! You don’t necessarily have to use them for splashing in the water, but that’s where our brains were at when we made them. We made these not only in anticipation for Island Living, but we also thought you’d appreciate more swimming options for your toddlers to use in the Seasons Kiddie Pool. Back Float:

A new Back Float interaction is available for Sims swimming in the pool. Click on that water. Try it out. Take a load off. Fishing Additions:

Brace yourself, we’re about to cast you into a deep dive…

We added several new interactions to allow players to fish in different ways and interact with other Sims around fishing activities.

Sims can perform a few new Fishing-based socials to gain useful info (via UI TNS/Notebook) and push NPCs to Fish.

Fishing is now joinable.

Improved fishing interaction tuning and autonomy to make the interaction more efficient and fun.

Upper skill levels now provide more meaningful rewards, with new Interactions added to Fishing skill levels

New high skill cast interaction “Angle for Big Catch” increases chance of getting rarer fish.

New high-skill VFX visuals on Rare fishing spots.

Ability to now “Mentor Sims in Fishing.”

Fishing UI has improved information, including Notebook info with Bait information.

Tuning for fish that can be caught is unique per world & more fishing spots added to some of our previously shipped worlds.

New bait preference system applied to most existing fish that modify catch chances.

Ceiling Fan Updates:

Ceiling Fans will now cool a room if you have Seasons and the fan is on. Oh yeah, speaking of which, we also added the ability to turn them On and Off. And while we were at it, we figured we’d make them dry off damp Sims too. Ceiling Objects Build Sort:

We also added a new Ceiling Objects Build sort category to make things like Fans easier to find. Swimming Things:

There is now a chance for interesting things to happen to your Sims while swimming, like getting a cramp or losing their suit (eek!). Swimming also now gives your Sims a boost in Fitness skill gain. Part-Time Jobs Update:

And last but not least (you still with me?) all existing Part-Time Jobs are no longer just for Teens. That’s right, now elders could work as Fast Food Employees. Young Adults could be Babysitters if they want. Why not? The Part-Time world is your oyster. Oh oh oh — and one last thing on that note: You can now have two Part-Time Jobs at once and pick between shifts. Wowee. And now on to the unintended features… General Issues.

Toddler’s Needs will now always be refilled while they’re at daycare.

Exterior trim now correctly applies to rounded flat blocks.

Adult Sims will now be able to successfully put Toddlers to bed. I wonder what their secret is. I may need to tap them for tips.

Sims on fire are now able to safely extinguish themselves in a pool. That’s refreshing.

The Dizzy Palms Ceiling Fan’s blades now tilt in the right direction.

Toddlers will no longer be put down from the high chair before they’ve finished eating. Patience mama, they’re still learning.

Gender Preference now affects flirt options.

Teen Sims will no longer spin into their Everyday outfit when going to school. If Randy wants to wear his swim trunks to school, well that’s Randy’s business.

Flirting with another Sim in a group conversation no longer increases the entire group’s Romance with you. That was awkward.

NPC Invites for Talent Showcase and Lounge will now take you to the appropriate venue.

We have fixed that bizarre issue where you’d have your Sims travel home, and then you load into your home lot, and your Sim’s skewer thumbnails are all greyed out like they’re not there, but when you hover over the skewer it tells you your Sims are at home. But like, they’re not at home. You’re staring at this empty lot, unable to play your Sims and you’re like.. “Is this even my home?”. And you start to question whether you selected the right lot on the map, but then you’re like “Wait, yeah – this is totally my home. But where are my Sims? It’s telling me they’re at home, but they’re not here.” Anyway, this should be fixed now.

Ghosts will no longer be obsessively calling you 5-ish times a day to see if you want to come over and hang out. They’ve been working on their self-control and are limited to at most one call per day now.

Terrain Paint now functions properly on Laptop Mode for AMD graphics cards.

NPC Sims will no longer get a sudden need to get nude after waking up if they have traveled off-lot and returned while you are visiting them. This one was weird. I wish I could show you the bug video.

Get Famous

We’ve toned down the amount of excitement that occurs when a celebrity makes an appearance outside of Del Sol Valley. They should be showing up outside of Del Sol Valley less often as well, so that should cut down on the ruckus.

It was a setup! I’ve been framed! It wasn’t me, I swear! You’ll pay for this! You got the wrong guy, it was Wilma! Wilma, I tell you! Celebrity Sims will no longer be falsely accused of stealing things. And for Wilma’s sake, I hope they get over what happened in the past.

Captain Sigma’s Gig costume no longer includes a chicken mask. That was a fowl fashion choice.

Performing “Tell a Group Story” Interaction Goals will now complete for the Fan Meet & Greet Event.

We fixed the issue with Del Sol Valley’s terrain disappearing when View Distance was set to High. Graphics cards (that we know of) that were affected by the issue:

We fixed the Del Sol Valley skyline texture glitch after exiting CAS.

Elder Sims will no longer have the option to retire from the Acting Career, just to be met with a sad, sad reality. Before they were taunted with a TNS telling them they got this big great pension and now they can sit back and relax, but the pension amount was §0. That’s just so dark…

Intel HD Graphics 3000

Intel HD Graphics 4000

AMD Radeon R6 Graphics

ATI Mobility Radeon HD 5145

NVIDIA GT 120

Seasons

Now, if you travel during a holiday, the holiday decorations on your neighbor’s homes will be removed after the holiday ends. They were admittedly being either a bit overly festive or just a tad lazy. Either way, it’s been dealt with.

Sims will no longer gluttonously guzzle/gulp/slurp/chug water/milk/orange juice during events. No need to be so shellfish.

Jogging Vampires will no longer hold an umbrella while jogging because that’s just silly.

Cats & Dogs

Strays can now eat and use litter boxes without having to make the lot a Cat Hangout. You poor poor babies. You’re safe now.

Existing Sims/Saves will once again be able to lecture their pets. Now you can let Biscuit know how you truly feel when she jumps up on the counter.

It’s been ongoing, but we are actively calming those overly excited pets. Your queue should no longer fill up with a stack of a zillion bubbles from your pets when you run certain interactions. We’ve been working on this issue for a while with a few other fixes, but it’s been rearing its head with new repro steps here and there. So hopefully this fish sticks.

Having a puppy or kitten nearby will no longer interrupt your Sim’s bath or shower. We swear they weren’t doing that on porpoise.

Sims are now able to walk through doors with Country Curtains.

City Living

Building pieces in apartments will no longer be invisible when viewing from the upper floor. That must have been very disconcerting to not know what happened to your stuff.

Cleared out some pesky extra plants floating around the Romance Festival.

Your Sims should now be able to buy art from the Street Gallery object during a Yard Sale.

Oh this one’s a doozy. Get this: Talking John and Potty Mouth 2.0 toilets no longer play their sound on an endless loop when a child Sim runs the Use & Massage interaction, even after the toilet is destroyed. Bonus points to SimGuruJill for keeping a straight face writing that one.

Foundations will no longer cut out the floor of a Penthouse.

Coffee and Tea is safe to drink again. Sims will no longer receive the “Lethal Heat” buff and die upon returning home after drinking three hot beverages.

Get Together

Empty Clubs will no longer linger in your Clubs Panel. They are now self-aware enough to know when the party’s over and it is time to go home.

Get To Work

Coworkers are now spawning for the Science career. Yes, they missed you too.

Breast Feed is no longer available for male Sim parents of non-alien babies. Only alien spawn possess the cosmic knowledge of the most nourishing MANaries.

Strangerville

We fixed some buggy dog-walking behavior in Strangerville.

We shortened up the time it takes to complete the Give Orders Daily Task in the Courageous Captain Rank of the Officer Branch of the Military Career. That was a mouthful.

Jungle Adventure

You will no longer receive countless notifications when you leave your kitten or puppy at home while vacationing in Selvadorada.

Vampires

Vampire Sims will now once again gain points after they reach the Grandmaster level on pre-April (2019) patch saves.

Your Vampires will no longer be unrightfully chastised by NPCs for drinking their blood after they specifically asked if it was ok. Like, I’m trying to be polite here and you said it was fine, and now you’re like all bent about it… what gives?

Perfect Sun Resistance Vampires will no longer use umbrellas when routing in the sun. Flaunt it, baby.

We fixed the weirdness with trying to add points while drinking the Draught of Reconfiguration. Now you should be able to add points just fine and your options won’t be greyed out.

Cured Vampires will now change body temperature. Why you gotta be so cold?

Laundry Day

Sims will now hold laundry bags the right way. What is the right way, you ask? Trust me, it’s better than how they were holding it before.

And now to wrap it all up, let’s get playing! I hope you enjoy your summer updates and have yourself one wonderful day today. Stay Cheesy,

-SimGuruJill

It's not mentioned in the patch notes, but actually yes! That issue should be fixed this patch. Please let me know if it's not! There were way too many bugs to mention every single one 😅

— SimGuruNick (@SimGuruNick) June 18, 2019

#news #the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4

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montpelierhqs · 6 years ago

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important notice.

hi everyone ! the admin team has become aware of a few issues we wanted to discuss with everyone. we apologise for the formality ( especially as we are all trying our best to put on a fun and atmospheric event for you all ! ) however, we want to get this out of the way now so you can enjoy the event, and hopefully enjoy your rp experience exponentially. please see the readmore below !

(note that this post is somewhat lengthy, however it is VITAL that everyone reads every part of it).

GOD-MODDING

we have received a few messages and notes about some players participating in what we call ‘god-modding’. for those who aren’t aware, godmodding is when you create or reply to threads and denote the actions of not only your own character, but the other character you’re interacting with. take my two characters for example, if they had a thread ( and i wasn’t the mun of both ), if i wrote that nate had slapped blue and blue had slapped him back in one reply, that would qualify as godmodding. godmodding is not just limited to threads however, as it can also occur when you are plotting. if you message someone with an idea in mind for a plot, that’s great ! however, it is not acceptable to message others with pre-determined plots without the other’s express consent, or to try and enforce something that they’re not completely comfortable with. for most, godmodding is an unintentional by-product of your muse, however it is not fair or acceptable in any circumstances, and if this issue persists, we will issue warnings. in dire cases, unfollows will be posted for insubordinate behaviour. please ensure that for all future threads, you do not control or dictate the actions of others. if you have any concerns about godmodding, would like to know more, or if you are aware of someone who continues to godmod once this has been posted, please let the admin team know as we’d like to ensure this rp is a safe environment to write in and allows us all to enjoy the beautiful characters !

PRONOUNS

we are very fortunate to have some gorgeous non-binary characters in our roleplay, alongside some even more beautiful non-binary muns. sadly we have been informed that in some cases, people are referring to some characters or muns by incorrect pronouns. we understand that sometimes mistakes can be made, however we would like to ensure that everyone is referred to by their preferred pronouns so they can feel as safe and as loved as we want everyone in this rp to feel. to check pronouns of our muns please visit the page here, and to see our nonbinary characters, please visit this page and scroll to the bottom ( their exact pronouns will be displayed ). if this issue keeps persisting please let the admin team know, as we will not tolerate incorrect usage of pronouns, especially from those who have been warned in the past.

ACTIVITY

we are very blessed to have such an incredible group of writers here, and the admin team is grateful for every single one of you. we completely understand activity wanes at certain times, and real life will always be a priority over rp. however, we just want to remind everyone that our activity rules state you must post AT LEAST every three days. for some mumu blogs, it has been noted that some characters do not post as often as the ‘primary character’ within these blogs. we are also aware that with this group ever-changing, we want to ensure that all members ( old and new ) are able to meet together and interact ! we just want to remind everyone to keep the activity levels up, or let the main know as we are more than happy to administer hiatuses for those who need it. also be sure to plot and interact with all characters, as we want everyone here to feel as welcome as we can possibly make them.

TRIGGERS

it has been brought to our attention that our triggers list at this point in time has not been filled out. we want to make this place as safe for all our beautiful writers as we can, so we would like everyone to send in their triggers to the admin team as soon as possible so we can update the list. once we have received a fair amount, we will make a post to publisice this to ensure everyone is aware of what it listed. feel free to send your triggers in by our askbox, tumblr ims, discord to any of the admins ( lily, paige or lilac ), or send them through on anonymous if you wish. we appreciate your support in this issue.

we apologise for such a long message, but it’s imperative that you read and understand it all. with that in mind, we hope that we can acknowledge this and move onto greater things, like the halloween event !! we have a plot drop coming up in a few days’ time that will include one of your characters, so for those active in the event, watch the main and find out how you can possibly be part of this exciting development.

thank you all so much for reading, and please let the admin team know if there is anything you would like to discuss, or any questions you have pertaining to what has been written.

much love to all of you.

please like once seen !

#montpelierimp

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harderandlesspopular · 7 years ago

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Day 2: Character Motivated

Warning: Some body horror occurs in the following story, and lots of body modification!

At first it had been a simple, practical choice. In her line of work, not taking up the offer of the body modders would have been madness. There were people who didn’t--The same sort of people who insisted that the kill didn’t count if you cheated. Strange, because May had never known a monster not to cheat.

The cross embedded in the back of her forearm didn’t make her happy, per say, but it was useful. Not as useful as it would have been if she was religious, but useful enough. She kept it wrapped under a bandanna most of the time. It worked a lot better when the vamp didn’t see it before she shoved that poisoned arm under their teeth.

It was a desperation move, sacrificing some blood and some pain to incapacitate the enemy. She tried not to use it when it could be avoided.

It took her longer to decide on the more decadent mods. The crosses became normalized. A lot of hunters had them. Plenty of other people did too.

She’d seen spies with small crosses fused into their necks where a vamp would try to feed, seen young hunters with their crosses in their palms, sacrificing grip for a holy symbol in the palm of their hands. She’d seen mothers with crosses over their chests. She heard the vamp poison transferred to infants through breast milk. She wasn’t sure she believed that.

When the modders first started working with the sigil tattoos she was just entering into the second phase of her monster hunting career. Going from the beat on the street, patrolling neighborhoods and alleyways, to an outright hunter, doing the tracking and the killing rather than merely guarding. She’d consulted with her superiors, and been given a flat ‘anything that keeps you alive longer.’

She got two sigils to start. On her left shoulder a simple lighting sigil that required only a hard slap to activate a shine like a flashlight. On her left hip she received a sound sigil. Trace her fingers around it clockwise and whatever noise she was making increased. Handy for calling in backup. Trace her fingers the other way, and it muted her movements, her breathing, her natural sounds. She could still kick a rock and the rock would scatter, but everything from her panting to the ruffle of her clothes she could dampen down to almost nothing.

They were expensive, and she had to cut holes in her clothes to use them. And worse, they gave a dull shine most of the time, even if they were inactive. But in time she put them to good use. The light sigil kept her abreast in the nocturnal dens, and gave her a brief advantage if she could blind her enemy, and the sound sigil? There were at least two wolf encounters after which she credited that mark with her life.

Shen she got the sigils of secrecy tattooed across her lips, so she could speak only to the ears which she intended, her mother finally commented.

“It’s just… A little much.” She said.

“It keeps my friends and I safe, mom.” May said, and though her mother didn’t like it, she at least accepted that.

The marks on her lips glowed green when she touched her forefinger to her lips and spoke to the one she thought of. Her commander received updates, and though she still wore an earpiece, they rarely needed to give her a mic anymore.

When she slept with her partner Diana, all their sigils glowed in the dark. Diana’s lips traced the ragged cross and the many scars around it. Both of them trailed their fingers around their sound sigils, and made not a sound. Both of them spent their secret hours pressing their fingertips to their own lips to whisper adoration to no one’s ears but each other’s.

Diana got the monster’s eye first. May got it only a week after. Just one eye, replaced with that of a monster, well preserved and heavily altered to fit well. It was a pity, replacing body parts. Becoming more like that which they hated. But it was necessary in their changing world.

“You’re still beautiful like this,” Diana whispered, a finger over her dark-red lips. The sigil glowed green past her lipstick. Her new eye shone unnaturally in the light of the tv at night.

May was not a vain woman, but she spent more and more time looking in the mirror, trying to decide whether she was alright with the cost. Her left eye was reptile. She had special eye drops for it. Her lips carried the sigil, glowing ever so slightly all the time. She met her own eyes in the mirror before she set to use the blood magic she’d learned and carved a summoning circle into her palm.

Her sound sigil kept her screams from catching.

“I’m worried about you,” Diana said, both hands on May’s bandaged palm. It was strange not to hear her voice in a magically intimate whisper.

“I know,” May said softly. “It will help. All of this is to help.”

It did help. She was very good at killing monsters.

She bound two things to her summoning circle. Bullets if she tapped it twice, her knife if she slashed her finger across it. It cost something, but everything did. They had to be in a specific location. In the dark days, it would have been, like, a cave. Now she had her own private lockbox at work that she’d been allowed to set up as her summoning circle.

“Beware the Ides of May,” Her boss said once, jokingly, and clapped her on the shoulder. It was the one with the flashlight, and his affection turned it on. May laughed, but it felt distant. Her reptile eye was aching. She needed more eye drops.

Diana’s cat eye started crying blood when they made love. It was unpleasant for both of them, but not the most unpleasant thing they’d run across. She started wearing an eyepatch at night, and when their new neighbors started moaning too loudly, they unanimously turned up their sound sigils to drown them out.

“It’s complicated,” May told her mother, her hands spread before her, a warped tattoo of red ink traced around her finger like a wedding band.

“But you do love her?” Her mother asked, holding May’s hand in both of her own.

“Absolutely.” Said May. She kept her reptile eye under an eyepatch around her mother. Usually she kept a glove on her scarred hand as well. But she’d wanted to show this part, at least.

“Well.” He mother murmured. Then “well” again, and May knew she was trying to find something helpful to say.

“I don’t suppose you could wear a normal band too?” She asked at last, and May found herself smiling.

“I probably could.”

Silver was good in their line of work. Her mother funded the rings. Both argentum silver, one for both of them.

“Vows would be difficult,” Diana whispered, not into her finger, but into May’s ear. “Do we have to have a wedding?”

“My mom would really like it,” May said, the wedding band tattooed on her finger burning fondly with the magic imbued by Diana. It was their chosen red strand. In times of trouble, they could unwind their tattoos and follow which way the ink pointed to each other. “Why, what were you thinking for vows?”

“Well, it’s hard to say something more powerful than what we do. I’d kill ghouls for you, and drag you out of the teeth of mimics, and exercise the world, even my favorite ghosts, if it kept you safe.”

“Romantic,” May drawled. The cross in her arm itched. It had ever since they gave her the fangs. No vampire in them anymore, they’d promised. Just a new weapon. Daggers for the mouth. They were even retractable. But the cross didn’t like them.

“Would they let us in a church?” Diana asked.

The cloth of her eyepatch was slightly damp against May’s cheek. Bleeding again, but ignored. So many things between them were bleeding.

“Doesn’t have to be a church.” May answered. “Let’s have it in the sunlight somewhere.”

She didn’t say ‘while we can still stand it,’ but she thought about adding that. They’d realized a long time ago that they’d changed themselves for good. Somewhere between that first augmentation, gotten for necessity, and their latest, the bonds they’d chosen together.

Some days, May wondered what kept it all separate anymore.

When they sild the silver wedding bands over their tattoos, there were people crying. And when they kissed, their teeth too sharp, their bodies not entirely their own, people whooped with joy for them.

It’s enough for me, May whispered, her finger to her lips, her makeup smeared with tears below her human eye.

It’s enough, Diana replied, and kissed her again in the sunlight that only burned a little.

#Junes30Firsts #Day Two #Character Motivated #Monster Hunting Body Mods #I meant this to be a lot more internalized and angsty #but I really like how it turned out #So now these two are instant favorites of mine #cw body horror #cw body modification #cw self harm #(sort of)#Original Fiction

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leafbatraccoon · 2 years ago

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these were notes on my journal till yesterday but the news that we're getting the nectar-making skill with horses i figured i'd have some fun with it yet still be loud with my opinions, so i'll reblog with updates from time to time - im reposting with the original slot texts bc i was unhappy with my sleepless decision making 👍👍 | details under the cut if u wanna know but i'm a bit of a hater fyi |

longer seasons - i don't think this will happen, if miracle mods show up i might stamp them on in a different color but from what i've found it's pretty ingrained in the game that 28 days is the longest and if modders we're going to crack it they might've done it already but when im playing on pretty long life spans i just 💔💔 50+ days seasons would be the dream, but i'd be happy with 45 👀 10 outfits per category - same as before ig, this is probably super niche but i'm not satisfied and i hate having to get into cas to change it up so much bc in my head they have a closet each and i want to mix and match pieces in a realistic way 👚 pack refreshes - tbf, they did set up an expectation for that one which for the looks of it they are done with it; there's so much to fix, dine out in general, mermaids deserve some love in comparison to the other occults, updates to the bodies of water (going in the water in windenburg would be legendary), hu just bug fixes and compatiblity here and there would be nice (more hiking ? power walks in more places? its so weird how they are restricted to ONE place) now by world refreshes - i mean that in my dreams they go back and expand the maps they give us 🗺️🗺️ im greedy and want 2 neighbourhoods for my vampires & spellcasters, a lil more space in moonwood mill, granite falls & del sol valley too why not not gonna happen so i can say wtv an extra space in mt komorebi with apartments and since we're at it in san sequoia too; will def not happen working gallery - ig that might be coming too ?? idk my gallery sucks at times like it wont find any results when there are ?? and i know there are bc if i restrict more it might come up with something?? also just wanted better mechanism for the searches, i never had issues with disturbing content showing up tho so idk i heard some simmers weren't so lucky

bigger households - having to control or monitor 8 human/humanish sims is challeging enough but because pets, because having to fake apartments, because reasons; i use mccc but this workaround brings issues in cas so yea, wishlist ✔️ snakes // lizards - this would've been appropriate to launch with horses imo and i'd love if there had been interaction/compatibility from snakes in the wild and those taller friends & other small pets - small pet options in ts4 are non existent, sorry, birds only exist in that one tree (they are probably happy about not being captive actually), bunnies are also wild (personally im fine with it but i know that its a popular pet so i'd love if it was an option), reptiles don't exist (yet) and rodents are exclusive to the slap-in-the-face-of-this-community pack... 🐁🐇🐢🦎🐍🐦🐜 faeries or other fae kin - i feel like they've hinted at it for quite a while and we've seen it show up in quizzes too?? 🧚‍♀️ so i'm hopeful for this one and hope they are just trying to make sure they properly deliver on it bc there's a lot of fantasy enthusiasts and they deserve it & woodland creatures - personally would love it if the fae pack came with woodsy world and the addition of woodland creatures at least the spiritual kind (like unicorns or a white doe which they possibly alluded to with puzzles - it made me real giddy) bonus points if it has some outdoor retreat compatibility

owning more lots - after winning the lottery or keeping up with a family for generations, sims can accumulate quite a lot of money, there's not a lot of expenses in the life of a sim tbh, travelling only costs one loading screen, gardeing makes you rich and thats ok ig but being able to own a holiday house would be welcomed, not just a business 🏘️ nectar making - when tartosa came but no nectar making i was a bit let down, imagine making or acquiring a special batch for your wedding?? it would've been lovely and appropriate for a wedding pack but ... yeah anyway it comes with the horse pack for some reason so at least it's coming, and only 3 years after juice fizzing 🥂 bands and more instruments - another thing they've hinted at in polls and i kinda wished it to come with HSY yet was not surprised it didn't; that being said we need drums and other instruments like bass and/or contrabass, just more than what we have if we're to have bands plz skating and/or surfing - these two are very different and honestly idk how the latter one would work, i just think they are popular sports we could have; at least skate boards should be easy enough to implement and a cute way for sims to drift around their closed off worlds so i have more hope for that one 🏄

hotels - even if they've been around the franchise and ts4 seems to draw all it's ideas from previous iterations i'm not confident they haven't just been replaced by rental properties but it's not the same, i'd like to be able to meet other guests vacationing on the property without having to engineer everything about it, ordering meals at hotel services and running/owning a hotel also; retirement homes - ELDER SIM LOVE IN GENERAL (canes, health issues, idk im not that old yet ..hum wills & testiments, special interactions) i feel growing together really fucked up on that one but i was not surprised bc it's ts4 and we rely on crumbs mods here and thats why some players stop buying dlc 👵☕👴 the townie refreshes - just pay some fans to do it at this point bc it's taking so long; most of them don't need to be redesigned anyway, just add hot and cold weather outfits, preferences and maybe a sneaky extra trait or lifestyle they could have developed and voilá, finish that chapter disabilities - i don't want it in the form of traits and thing it's rotten to make people to pay for it BUT i'd love to see some disability representation in this game, physical, cognitive and what not. i understand at this point it might be hard to introduce but i think it be really important to have this in the sims and ts4 is about time funerals & cemeteries - death is a part of life, this is a life sim... thats it basically, i want it, i miss it in comparison to previous games, i fake it with parks and inviting guests over, but we shouldn't have to tho seems pretty basic stuff

more and better apartments - i would like it if we saw more conjoined builds, more apartment builds, both with few floors and plenty, the option to have sims living in different floors of the same building and even having business or community lots in builds that are divided into multiple lots - ambitious ik - bonus points if they update apartments in a way you can own one or more and rent them out - i don't want to play as a landlord, i swear - i just want my sims to be allowed do simbnb while they go for a weekend in the city (which ig u cant bc of the current system/coding idk) or bringing them to more existing worlds but bc of the obstacles to that i have 0 hopes well-crafted worldly words - i see a lot of americancentric choices being made when creating the worlds, it's unrealistic for a global player base and hum.. a life sim and whenever they drop interesting worlds they are always so frigging small you have to sacrifice making a lively town, with people and businesses, if you want you're sim to live in certain environments (or use multibuilds, which is fine ig but it bothers me a bit) and they fail to utilize the common spaces of the neighbourhoods in ways simmers would love to, to bring some life into these worlds; 🌍 the worldly part of it... i am yet to see african like climates and cultures represented, asia is so wide & full of diversity and we get one japan inspired world so far, south america if confined to a destination world if you don't have mods ig (maybe it's changed by now im not sure) and europe while being represented in 3 packs so far - and one of them being the best in terms of lots per world we've had so far - 2 of them have few lots and its all very niche, so in a way i don't need to be able to point to the actual cities that inspired those worlds, it's not my priority just something that crowded and lively that draws from wider range of cultures and that mre people could recognize as close to their experience would be nice 🌏 also more islands maybe im a sulani simp new jobs & careers - i love GTW, it was the first pack i got and sure it deserved a refresh by now and i would welcome it, especially if it meant more careers, i really liked that gameplay feature; that being said i feel like we deserve more job options OR branches. y no dentist ??? i cant think of ideas right now but while playing the game and setting up townies or sims i feel limited a lot trans content fixes - yea i avoid using the in-game system for trans rep (i headcanon a lot and cheat stuff basically) bc its just not the best in general (clothes fit weird, there's no changes in the frame through time as there would be with hormonal treatments - which there arent in the game so makes sense), not in comparison bc i dont know other games to compare it to just real life ig but im not even that informed tbh; i am happy they didnt create a life sim where trans people are erased and don't want them to be discouraged to stop investing in this at all so i try not to mention it but fix the binder at least & here's a tumblr post that helps me a bit something that surprises me - /pos !! because... they don't... a lot of what we see seems to me like repeating the content ideas from older games but spreading it out to make as much dlc as possible; i had a lot of more wow reveal moments with ts2 & ts3 i feel like but cant truly be sure bc brain is mush

#ok here we go im keeping this one #two ppl saw the og #i love love love to know what people miss in the game + their opinions and this just felt like a fun format #wish fulfillment #but with typos #bingo #roadmap #kinda #long post #repost #raccoon only #sims opinion #sims discourse #simblr #sims 4 #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims related

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wishingfornever · 6 years ago

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9/10/17 – Heavy Contact: Perpetual Slumber

I crave… so much. I crave you, I crave sugar, I crave alcohol… right now, I just want to indulge. I’m so hungry. T-T

It’ll be worth it. When I’m not fantasizing about fitting an entire cake in my mouth, I’m thinking about the dream children we had together. Isn’t that fucking dumb? It sounds dumb, even to me. I mean, let’s be honest: I’d be the world’s greatest father. Nothing wrong with my fathering abilities at all. You’d be somewhat mediocre, obviously. ;) Kidding, kidding. Still, it’s weird. Cynthia. Such a strange name. I’m not sure how I’d feel about it as a name. It’s kind of blunt, not very fluid. CynTHia. I don’t like that “Th” sound. Maybe there is some sort of cute pet name that would be more sufficient. I don’t know why but my dreams have been more… vivid as of late. I try to pay attention. I don’t think they mean anything, I mean Las Vegas could never flood. I’ve been there. The communist thing in Paris might be symbolic but it’s kind of… meh. I don’t think they mean anything but the cat having a voice and then sort of possessing you was super scary. Btw, it’s currently 12:05. Been writing since midnight struck so, yeah. Hi again, it’s me basically from the same day.

Whatever… Jer and I will be talking to each other tomorrow via voice chat. Or today, I guess. I want to get some writing done, so I hope I will. I’m going to try and finish it to the best of my ability. I’ll have Jer read it, but the thing is he can’t edit it if he reads it unless I’m there. It’s not hands on. Worse yet, my grammar is probably the best among all my friends.

That sucks. If I have to rely on someone I know to edit, they’ll be inferior to my own designs. And I will be biased because I can miss my mistakes. There is no justice in the world. I think I’m going to cave and just grab something to eat; hopefully something small and light in calories. After the food from Mazatlan Grill, I am pushing it for calories. But, it… should be healthy. Healthier, at least. Thing about Mexican food is that there are a lot of veggies. That’s why it was considered a gift from god by the pope, because it has all the food groups and is relatively balanced and super delicious.

Fuuuuuuuuuuck, I’m hungry. Brb

You won’t be able to guess what I found in the fridge. Unless you do. Not the point! The point is, I found MEXICAN FOOD!!! Like there were several tacos, fully loaded with big tortillas. I just grabbed one and slapped in the microwave for 2 minutes and left with that, a banana, and a bottle of water. It’s cool because we were just talking about how great Mexican food is. There was sour cream, no cheese. Also beef. So, I assume it was relatively high in… CALORIES!!! Yeah, that happens. Banana was good. Super sweet and I might get another one.

I feel so much better. I’m trying not to pig out, but food is just amazing. So is this water. Everything just tastes better right now. Thanks, Cynthia. ;)

You know, it’s occurred to me that you may be reading this and be thinking to yourself, “Ooooooh, I see. You’re crazy, huh?” It occurred to me when I started this. In reality, this has helped me cope. I never understood why people had journals but it’s sort of relieving. Then again, I intend for my journal to be read.

A little ironic, my book began as an After-Action Report (AAR) which is basically RP updates about your game. My character was… Diego! Go figure. It was part of this mod for Mount and Blade: Warband. This mod is based in 1809 (a year after my book starts) and I was playing in Prussia. Diego will be going to Prussia. And, of course, he had a JOURNAL and that’s how I did the AAR. It was pretty popular. He was sort of a cynic which is what I plan to have him become in the second book. Spoilers, btw. All the characters were made there. Some had different names like Sarvar but same general concept. Atlas was supposed to be evil-ish. Avdotya didn’t stray too far from her source material. It’s ironic, eh?

Oof. Might have pigged out a little bit. Grabbed myself another burrito + banana + water. I feel so stuffed but I’m sooooooo happy. I’ll make up for it this week. It was loaded with bellpeppers and onions. But this had beef… and cheese. I might have thrown it together and gone a little bit too deep. Kinda regretting not exercising yesterday, but I was a little saddened by your response.

Not your fault; I just wasn’t ready for it.

You, know, I’ve been toying with the idea of writing a political book detailing all the dumb crap the US does. It’s bound to sell if it’s “edgy” enough. Maybe I’ll do that instead of the second book… Of which, I need to change the order around. Sarvar is now third and Atlas is second. So, the next book will begin with Atlas’s story. It’s better chronologically and it’d probably have far more action and will be before Atlas begins to shoulder everything.

That said, the sweat pants I have. Gonna wear them and exercise today. Those pants though were given to me by Daniel. Again, super nice guy. He was talking about a few dark things yesterday and sort of hinted. I hope you’re keeping an eye on him.

So, I see you left Regional Alliance for the Communist Bloc. Which is interesting. During the second nuclear war, I made a few allies within their ranks. Unfortunately, you probably think I kicked Dennis because I was being petty. Maybe. However, someone noticed his currency was child pornography. Thus, in order to save face I took it upon myself as the most vocal communist state to ban him.

I notice he’s in the Communist Bloc as well… You’re making a bad decision siding with Dennis. Really bad. Not just in NationStates but in general. I noticed you’re still online. I’m going to probably upset you, but I’m going to ask why you’re siding so much with Dennis. I see you’re online, so I dropped a message. I wonder what he’s been telling you. He betrayed me, a friend of 12 years. What makes you think he’d stand by you? You know he lies. He’s admitted it. Is it because you feel sorry for him? Is it because you’re angry with me? I guarantee, you won’t be happy with him. My dad kicked me out for a little while before I went to Texas the first time. Dennis isn’t exactly the most hospitable. If you think I was inactive, you’re in for a treat. If you think him going to the gym with Daniel is evidence of anything, it’s because of Daniel that he goes. Without Daniel, he’ll have no drive. But, I’m not concerned. I know you’ll see this and I know you’ll be disappointed again. I’m not sure you’ll come back because you might fear “I told you so.” I wouldn’t bring it up if you did come back, however, so don’t harm yourself further. If you need help with Dennis, then ask me and I’ll help. Of course, I have no respect for him right now. I’ve began to recall all the SHITTY things he’s done to me, Daniel, and Shane. I’m bitter and I’m biased, but that doesn’t mean I’m ignorant. I know how he is. He’s a piece of shit. You’ll see for yourself soon. I’m not even mad.

I do want to revisit what he told you. It horrifies me that he was able to turn you against me so easily. Admittedly, I wasn’t the best boyfriend but I wasn’t the worst boyfriend. I was inactive. You said it yourself; I felt like a roommate. I wasn’t mean or cruel to you but you made it seem like I was. I trust this is because Dennis told you that I’m ready to throw down at a moments notice or some shit.

I’m more into verbal confrontation than physical confrontation. I don’t need to raise a fist, but I’ll defend myself. I told you about what happened in Texas. I defended myself each time. That’s basically the only two fights I’ve gotten in in my adult life. Not that bad, all things considering. The reason for each was too much partying. It wasn’t even me doing the partying for both, I had just gotten off work and came back to fucking drama.

That’s something I wish you weren’t doing. Partying too much. I probably won’t stop you from drinking and smoking pot, but I’m not going to endorse it.

You do have a really skewed image of me. Deny it if you want to, but it’s true. One of the most traumatizing things since this happened were your wide and confused eyes. You thought I hated you? Who gave you that idea? Me, sitting by myself hating life? Or was it perhaps Dennis? Then you thought I was going to hurt Dennis? You thought I was going to hurt you?

I have a temper, but it’s mostly benign. I’m sorry you’ve had to experience it, but I’d never hurt you out of anger. I’m not sure I could hurt Dennis either, and I hate him. Like, literally, as far as I’m concerned the bridges are burned. But I wouldn’t hit him. Except when I met him when I came back from Texas the first time, but I didn’t hit him hard. It was a surprise. We hugged afterwards. Again, I never hated Dennis until he turned you against me. I never hated Daniel, either. I never hated Shane. I don’t hate many people.

I want to offer you an invitation to Adela’s. Honestly, I don’t know what you’re going to do. You made it seem like Texas wasn’t an option anymore. But, whatever the case, you can still come with me. You can have window and I’ll try to give you your space. I’ll try not to talk much. I didn’t want to message you today or yesterday but idk. Something told me I should reach out. I blame those weird dreams.

I’m going to be more active, I guess. I’m going to try to not mention how bad I feel or felt when talking to you. I’ll force myself to be cordial, sort of like what you said you were doing while we were in person. That still hurts, you know? I forgave you, though, so I’m healing. I just wish you knew what I forgave you for.

After this sentence, there will be 9585 words in this journal. I think that includes the number but I’m not sure. I’m not going to talk about Dennis anymore in today’s entry, so please keep reading.

I couldn’t get much sleep after that dream. Have a lot of time to think. Cynthia was such a little brat. Very annoying. Could totally be your daughter. Same shade of hair, with oversized pink glasses. Honestly, I feel if we did have children they’d have darker hair but who knows? Our dream son was only a toddler. Like, either he couldn’t speak yet or he was shy. Had dark hair and a bowl cut. Also a nerd.

Hopefully, if we do ever have children, they’ll have my eyesight. I know you don’t want them but it’s hypothetical, so why not imagine? Remember how we were talking about names? Avril was one I was really big on. I guess you convinced me to go with Cynthia. Not sure how, but you did it. Probably put it in the contract while I wasn’t looking. We should probably have a witness when we sign it, just to ensure both our safety. If we do redo the contract, we’ll have to avoid intentionally hiding certain topics. It was fun for the earlier contracts, but I want us to get serious again. Hopefully we will be. I’d forgive Dennis for everything if it meant another chance at being your boyfriend. Not just friend, but boyfriend. Otherwise, wouldn’t be worth it. A friend would have helped our relationship, not profit from it. Thus, we’ll need to get back together before I can forgive him again. Look at that. I said I wouldn’t talk about Dennis but I did anyways. Really, it’s more talking about us. His involvement is moot. Still, said I wouldn’t mention it. It’s frustrating. No more after this, I promise.

It’s weird that you needed space from me. I mean… you had all the space you wanted. Again, super inactive roommate. That’s one of the things that has baffled me about this entire affair, but if you need it you’ll get it. I want to work with you. Of course, it’s hard to measure progress while you’re away.

What really upset me was it felt like you were making excuses to not finish things. Like… it was supposed to be Thursday for you to do all these things. Then Saturday. Then Wednesday. I was prepared for you to take your things, but you kept postponing. I thought I did something wrong because we weren’t talking. I should have trusted you, but… it’s hard. I felt like I was doing something wrong and I didn’t know how to improve on it.

I said a lot of very hurtful things, iirc. I did hurtful things not just to you but to me. I suffered from temporary insanity. I’ve never been this hurt about anything before. Like… I strangled myself. I hit myself so hard, I left bruises. Of course, hole in wall… I was just feeling hopeless and that there was no one I could turn to.

I feel better now. Been using this journal to vent. And I have Daniel. Sometimes Shane. Jeremiah has been more available. Like… my life shattered but things are getting placed back together. A bit slowly for my tastes, but I’ll work with it. I’d do anything to get you back in my life. You’re the final piece. You complete me. It’s hard to get put back together when you’re so opposed to be that final piece.

I think if we got back together, I’d be more protective. Probably more anal about things. You’d probably call me “Andrew” but I wouldn’t care. I’d be livid if you were to cut yourself. You tell me, “Oh, I just needed to” and I won’t accept that as an answer. Learning that from you but mostly learning that because you tend to not say what you mean directly. You’re afraid of confrontation and I forgot about this. Therefore, you made our break sound vague. You flatout lied about it. You hid your cuts from me and then blamed me when it seemed like I didn’t care.

I care. I always care. The first time you cut yourself, I kept to myself. I wanted to cry, really. I wanted more substance but all I got was “I needed it” and that is a half-assed answer.

After how you treated me… yeah, I’m not surprised that I thought you hated me. Put yourself in my shoes. Just for a minute. Consider how you’ve made me feel. This entire time, I’ve placed myself in your shoes and I’ve tried to reach out. I thought I was doing what was best, but you did need time and I didn’t give it. When I try to fix something, it becomes my project. Sitting around waiting… well, it makes me depressed. Not sure you noticed. That said, I don’t feel like you’ve been very empathetic. I’m probably going to exercise in a bit. It’s 7:36 so it’s pretty early. It’d make up for me pigging out last night and yesterday. Normally, I pig out because… DEPRESSION, go figure but this time I guess I was just super hungry. And Daniel was paying, so free meal, amirite? ;)

The girl I was flirting with. I basically stopped talking to her after I spoke to you on skype yesterday. Kinda feel bad. I’ll message her again later today, but it’s not right for me to put people to the side because I’m feeling moody. If anything, I learned that from how I treated you.

I know I said I was going to exercise, but with minimal sleep, I might try to rest and then exercise when I wake up. I know, making excuses but it’s cold and I’m feeling tired. I wish you were here. A cold bed is best spent with a warm body. And frankly, there are none warmer than yours. <3

Cheesy flirt, I know, but you said I should flirt more with you. I did but you didn’t notice. So, now I have to be ultra obvious. Like, SO obvious. It’s not so bad. Cheesy is good; too bad it’s not going to be a part of my diet soon.

Anyways, I’m going to get some rest. You’ll probably message me in about two hours and I won’t message you until four probably. I’ll try to wake up sooner. I miss you. I love you. Talk to me soon, yeah? Good night (or morning). You’re beautiful. <3

Can’t sleep. Too much on my mind I guess. It happens. Maybe when everything is over I’ll be able to go to sleep at a reasonable time. As I was saying, you’re welcome to come with me to Texas. Don’t even need to stay at Adela’s. We can drop you off at Shane’s the next day, if that’s alright. Thing is, we’re waiting for the hurricanes to pass and for the flooding to clear. As soon as that’s done, I’m getting a ticket and I’m out of here. With or without you.

I miss our relationship in Adela’s. You say I was always on my computer but what I remember was us doing dishes together, running around the neighborhood, doing little things. I miss that. Here? Can’t do that here. It’s a black hole. I hate it here. My sister didn’t come over yesterday, btw. It’s nice because she’s such a hassle. My dad can be too but he’s been rather impartial. My mom has been super energetic and supportive. I think she misses you, but I won’t ask her. Not yet.

I’m glad you haven’t deleted the blog yet. To me, that means there is still hope. Or you pity me enough to leave me my last bastion. Whatever the case, I’m glad. I check it everyday. I reload the page several times a day, just to check if it’s still there. It helps. You said you had it so when I broke up with you, I’d feel bad.

I impulsively click on Skype to get here. To write in my journal, I think “Click the blue!” Reason for this, if I had to guess, is because the journal is specifically targeted to you and right now I have several messages sent to you over Skype. I don’t think I’ll accidentally send you any journal entries but it’s amusing. I hope you’re willing to chat.

I hope these hurricanes pass soon. No offense, but I need to get away. Nice neutral territory, you know? Adela’s a nice person. Even if you broke up with me and insisted to never see me again and also set my hair on fire, she’d still meet up for bubble tea. People like you. She loves you. Adriana loves you. Everyone loves you. I love you the most, though. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have tried so hard. Of course, it could be said I’m trying now. Except I’m not trying, this is me coping. Whether you read it or not, it’s hard to say but I know it’s been helping me. Maybe I should keep a journal more often. Except instead of a journal about you, it’ll be a journal for me. And instead of me consistently updating like I have been with this one, I’ll actually do the end of the day update like I wanted to do. Maybe I should get you a journal… Your birthday is right around the corner. I want to get you something.

Soon. Probably won’t do Christmas. Thing is, for Christmas and Thanksgiving, I’m going to be all by myself at Adela’s. Not a bad thing, but I don’t know how I’d fare. If I slipped into a fit of depression, I might not be able to handle it by myself. :/

Don’t consider that as me wanting you to be by my side during those events. I know Shane is taking you somewhere for Thanksgiving. It’s not an invitation (though if you really wanted to stay with me, I wouldn’t say no). You don’t need to spend the time with me and you don’t owe me anything. I’m just talking my mind. That said, I remember last Thanksgiving. It was just me and Max and I stayed in the guest bedroom. I kept to myself and didn’t eat anything that day. Christmas was a bit better because Adela was there, sort of. We went to that party where I got drunk and played blackjack.

My hair was longer then. I’m surprised it’s taking this long to grow out. Normally it’d be longer. I’m getting older… or I’m more stressed. I miss feeling your fingers run through my hair. It’s soothing. Everything about you is soothing. I should have appreciated you more. Well, I know better now.

I think the day after Thanksgiving, I went to go get Whataburger. Might have walked. Can’t recall. I usually do fast food when I’m depressed. Probably why I gained SO much weight… that and I’ve been inactive. I gained 80 pounds. EIGHTY pounds. That’s a lot. I feel so disgusting… Whataburger was good though. I’ll miss it while I’m down there. Because it’s so close yet it’s totally forbidden. If you and I go out, we’ll have to get Subway. And my sandwich won’t get cheese. I’ll force myself to only eat half and save the rest. Thing is, I eat fast. I really need to slow down. I try but… eh. I really need to be more aware when I eat. I guess I’m like a shark. I just see food and get into a feeding frenzy. RAWR!!! IMMA SHERK!!! GIVE ME UR FISHIES!!! Except for Moshi. Moshi is friend; not food. I miss Moshi. I wake up and look over where she used to be and feel… disappointed. She was literally the reason I woke up in the morning. I’d go back to bed, but it gave me something to do. I really need to start exercising today. But I’ll do that later today. Thinking about Texas… the first time. Before we met. I had a TV, cable, faster internet, Ahnassi… I wanted to come back though because there was no one I hung out with in Texas. Didn’t have any friends or family because my brother moved to Oklahoma and left me there by myself. I was fine in my little apartment but my dad rushed me out. I didn’t want to stay, mind you, but I needed more time. I was saving up to afford to leave but my dad offered to pay for everything. Unfortunately, that means we only had enough to put in our trucks and nothing else. I left the TV, the TV stand, a table plus chairs… so much I left behind. I was charged for leaving stuff in the apartment. It was bullshit, the money I had saved went into paying off my bills from a place I wasn’t even at anymore. Worse yet, before I paid off one of them (cable bill) my dad said I shouldn’t. What would they do? Ruin my credit is what. Thanks, Dad. I know you’ve heard that before, but… Idk, I’m reminiscing. I was totally isolated then but I used to call my friends on this computer. I had the TV on in the background because it was nice to have. Usually Comedy Central because I needed the laugh. I think… that’s why I’m always on this computer. I didn’t used to be this bad, I just haven’t realized it. Christ, loneliness sucks. I didn’t expect to do so much self discovery with this journal.

I used to go out. I went to clubs but I stopped because I got tired of spending money on drinking. I used to go on dates with girls. I was really into the activist scene. I had a V for Vendetta mask and went to the Million Mask March. I want to again… I’d want to take you. Happens every November Fifth.

I feel… addicted to the computer. More than ever. I don’t even want to type on it. Right now, I just want to go to sleep but I can’t. Maybe the computer is to blame? Idk, maybe I should limit my use of the computer to when I’m only writing.

I depend on my vices a lot. I guess your pot is the same as my computer. You allow it, but you don’t encourage it. I guess you were patient with me. More than you should have been. If it’s alright with you, I might just talk about my past today. At least until I fall asleep or if you message me on Skype. Whatever comes first.

I graduated high school in the middle of a recession. It was so hard finding a job. I applied EVERYWHERE and my dad often drove me. I had a car, but we made it a little event. Unfortunately, he lives in the 60’s and 70’s. The way you apply for a job is different than it was then. The first job I got, I wasn’t even applying for. The Lumberjack used to be Black Bear Diner and I applied there and I was told they weren’t taking any applications. I was disheartened because I had applied to all these places and that was the last place I applied to. I was ready to go home with my dad when this short man with a gravelly voice stopped me outside. He offered me a job as a freelancer.

Basically, he worked construction with Walmart. Those shopping cart cages? I placed the little blocks on top of them. It was neat. I road on a forklift lifting a panel. That panel is where I stood. I also riveted down a lot of the isles and did other things. I enjoyed it and the pay was nice. Problem was it was at night so I slept during the day. I had this crush on this girl at the time… she’s married now, but we were close friends. I was just in the friend zone and couldn’t get out. When I have a crush on someone, I have a crush. I didn’t lose my virginity until later, of course. Not trying to talk about my love life (or rather, lack of). Talking about Walmart. The job didn’t last long. The guy I worked with eventually got into it with the dude who ran the Walmart and left. I never got my last paycheck, but I didn’t care. I had experience. Turned out, it didn’t mean shit. I’ll talk more about my job history tomorrow. In High School, I had a few crushes. Never amounted to anything. My first kiss was with this girl. Heather Harmon was her name. It was before I went to Credence (which is a continuation high school). There was this dance which I didn’t want to go to. I felt so awkward just being there. I was a Freshman and I wanted to go home. However, I was told by Heather’s friend that this girl in a curly blouse thought I was cute. I was like, “Oh?” and super surprised. I misheard her and thought she said something different from blouse. Don’t remember what I thought she said. All I remember is that I approached the wrong girl and said, “Hey, I heard you thought I was cute?” The girl looked at me, laughed, and said no. Ouch. What a bitch. I went back to where I was sitting, feeling even worse when Heather’s friend got back and brought Heather with her. Asked why I didn’t ask Heather out to a dance and I said I didn’t know she was who she was talking about. The friend grabbed a sleeve and reiterated blouse. That’s the thing, dances and clubs and all that dumb shit… the music is just too loud. Can’t hear shit.

Anyways, she asked me to dance and I said I didn’t know how. She said it’s fine, she’ll teach me. She dragged me onto the floor and we began dancing. I was dancing horribly but she seemed fine with it. Then the music cut to ‘slow dance’ music and we slow danced. In the middle of it all, she kissed me.

It caught me off guard and I was so surprised. But also happy. I enjoyed even the small amount of affection. She had to leave early, however, so left soon after. My mom eventually picked me up and I left too. On the way back, I saw her again, crossing the street. I didn’t really remember what she looked like until I saw her outside of the dance which was ironic. I was so surprised and caught in the moment that I couldn’t focus.

You’re probably wondering what she looked like. She was a bit on the heavy side but she had a cute face. Thing is, she liked to play the field if you know what I mean. She broke up with me once and I took it easy. Then we dated again and broke up again. Then she wanted to go out for a third time and I said no. She was a year older than me which I felt was odd. Sophomore dating a Freshman. That class politics, amirite? We were dorks. Basically grade school relationship in high school. Of course, I discovered several girls had crushes on me but I never noticed. I was always too focused on my own crushes to notice others. God, I felt bad about that. I didn’t mean to be so neglectful. I didn’t mean to be rude. I just didn’t notice. So, I probably could have lost my virginity sooner. Then again, I was a young republican for the longest time so I’m lucky I didn’t lose it later. Of which, I lost it in the back of my truck on that trail we were on a while back. It’s a good trail. Miss yooooou… <3

Anyways, the crush I had that persisted after high school. I was close with her family, but there was nothing that ever happened between us. She eventually moved away for college and I eventually moved to Texas. We still talked in my early days. I guess I stopped talking to her when everything started to go sour in my life.

Huh, I messaged her a happy birthday this year. I’m surprised, I didn’t wish ANYONE a happy birthday this year. Then the year before during the same month. Seems I commented on one of her posts and we discussed it in PM. Interesting. That’s life. She was very funny. Had a lot of problems though, sort of like you. Stop me if you heard this before, but her mother was a very abusive ultra-christian. I even went to church with her mother. I guess if I had a type, that’d be it.

I’m not sure why, but I’m drawn to girls with issues. Not because I want to feed off it but because I used to want to help. Remember me with that “You’re beautiful” thing? That’s not a flirt, that was me building your self-esteem. Remember how I tried to reinforce your self-esteem? I guess I’d be considered a white knight. At least, I used to be. Not so much now. I’ve been bitter and the last girls I were with didn’t seek help really. I was in it for the sex, not the relationship.

If I had to guess a physical type, I like your body but I also like curves. So bigger butt maybe. Boobs would be nice too.

Eh, I might not have a type. I feel so shallow thinking about it. You have the perfect body in my eyes, though. Not why I love you. If you were less attractive, I’d still be fond of you. I can look past looks, but I feel I’m letting go of a piece of my person. You can be an intellectual, you could be thoughtful, you could be compassionate, you could be reasonable… though, you’ve been less reasonable as of late. Just saying. >.>

Really, I like you. I like you a lot. Your body is great, but I can live without it. Sometimes, I think you’re too attractive because boys are always hitting on you. And, apparently, they made the flirting game increase in difficulty. Ah, fuck. -,-

I really want you to read this. I want to tell you about the journal, but it’s a surprise. You probably don’t want to talk to me right now, anyways. :/

A lot of memories today. I’m going to share the section about the first kiss. Literal copy and paste. However, more information will be here as opposed to as on Skype. I’m not sure how you’ll take it, but that’s alright. I remember! It wasn’t blouse. Heather’s friend said “Shirt” and I heard “Skirt.” Same concept, similar sound. It wasn’t blouse but shirt and skirt. Yeah, I can be a dweeb too. Nothing is sacred.

My parents are talking about me going to Texas. They talk loud because my dad is deaf. My dad doesn’t sound so keen and I’m not sure how my mom feels, but she’s supporting me on this.

My mom just came in and asked me when I wanted the ticket. She was a bit forceful. I guess she’s annoyed that I haven’t done anything and that I just want to leave. I’m talking to Adela. Her mom is coming up for her birthday which is early in October. I kind of want to get there after her mom leaves so I have that super comfy bed. Far better than this bed. Good memories of it, too. Because you were always on it. <3

Flirting. That was flirting. That’s something I miss. That one dream where you were possessed by that demon cat was fucking crazy but it was hot. You’re super sexy and I miss it. I neeeeeeeed it. Probably; men apparently need sex at least once a week for their mental health. I heard that from a co-worker and I’m not sure how true it is. I’ll admit, I’ve been mentally better so perhaps there is some truth to it.

Last time I saw you, I had actually hoped we’d have sex one last time. Unfortunately, I was a muttering whimp and couldn’t contain myself. I wanted affection over sex… how dumb am I? If you answered “Pretty dumb” then you’d be correct. I guess I wasn’t even in the mood.

I think I’d fair better in our next meeting. I’ve been venting! Without judgment, too! At least for now. And the first entry was pretty whiny but I worked through it. Could delete it, but that’d defeat the purpose of a journal. You write what’s on your mind. At least, that’s what I’m thinking. If not, at least it’s a placebo. Really, that’s the only pill I really need right now. Just gotta believe. And I believe in us. I believe we’ll get back together. Maybe I’m wrong, but it’s nice to believe. Faith is fun, eh? I’ve had this pimple on my nose. It was big and greasy. Couldn’t get rid of it with that tea tree oil stuff but I tried to pop it. Not much effect, it’s just scabbing now. I look like a rhinoceros right now. Big, fat, skin condition, rhino. Ugh… be positive. Anyways, the scab is annoying but it’ll heal soon. My cuts look like they’re going to be light scars but they’re subtle. Not my first scars but they seemed to cut the deepest, pun unintended. Again, I was just… so upset. Really should have started this journal sooner.

Anyways, I think I’m rambling now. I’m going to try to catch some sleep. It’s currently 11am and you’re still not awake. I’m not sure I’ll be able to. My eyelids are heavy, but my mind is super active. My dad wants me to take the garbage to the dump but they’re not open on Sunday. Maybe he’ll realize this. Anyways, trying again for sleep. I love you, Esther. I hope you’ve read this far.

Current time is 1:21pm. Still, no sleep. We had a pretty long conversation. You revealed a lot. I think you revealed that you’d never forgive me. Man, that hurts… Crying now. My heart… the muscle in my chest? It physically hurts. So much… I’m sorry I neglected you. I’ve changed, I swear.

I appreciate your honesty… it was blunt. I guess I needed to hear it. It’ll help me become a better person. It’s just… damn. Never have I hated myself more than I do right this very moment. It’s not that great to be me right now. I can’t prove to you that I’ve changed because there is no way to prove it. I’m fighting an uphill battle. You… really don’t want to see me.

The irony is… I still think you care. Might be wrong, but it feels like it. Maybe the voice I’m reading your statements is just more merciful than I allow to be read. I’d sacrifice anything for a chance to get back in your good graces. I wish I knew how to convince you that things would be better… If you’re reading this, I’m obviously still alive. So I’m safe, you have nothing to worry about. Of course, if you’re reading this that means everything after has already happened. It’s probably not even September anymore. So, yeah… right now, I guess you just have to trust I won’t do anything permanent. Good news for current you… I’m not messaging you from now on until you message me. I might message you before I go to Texas, but that’d be it. I think that’s worthy for an exception, no? That said, I guess… my journal entries are going to get longer. At least until I invest myself in something with a lot of time consumption. I want to message you every day. I told you about the journal. THE JOURNAL!!! I don’t know why, ruined the surprise… and you couldn’t care less. Or maybe you did care; you just didn’t show it. You have a better poker face than I do.

The way you ended it sounded like you were annoyed with me, however. “gtg” is probably unlikely. I would normally ask Daniel or Adriana to confirm if you’re going anywhere else. Thing is, I don’t need to. You are just tired of hearing me beg. And I get it… that’s the fucked up thing. I get it. Honestly, you deserve a prince to descend from on high and sweep you off your feet. I’m no prince, I’m just some asshole. I think I’d leave me too.

I’m going to try to go to sleep. Hopefully for the final time. When I wake up, expect me to talk about some dream where you were in a wedding dress and where I was in furs, beating things with a stick and speaking with only one syllable words. You were the best thing that ever happened to me… and I took you for granted. I want to make up for it. But I can’t… maybe I never will…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RB-RcX5DS5A

The light hurts my eyes. It’s currently 8pm. I think I got five hours of sleep. I say that because I posted on Facebook before I dozed off. It doesn’t matter.

I don’t feel good. I didn’t have any dreams and I woke up… physically numb. It’s hard to do simple things like move my fingers to type this. You won’t get to see it but I’m hitting backspace a lot. I went to the kitchen to get myself food. I was hungry before we chatted but I took a bite out of something my dad made and couldn’t finish it.

I have a banana and a bottle of water. I’m going to try to eat something and drink something. After that, I think I’ll go back to bed. Tomorrow has to be better than this.

Maybe it will be. I’ll have to go to the dump tomorrow. It’ll just be me going to town. Alone. I’ll then get a Subway sandwich. Alone.

It’s not as bad as it sounds… I think I need the solitude right now, ironically. I could always reach out to people if I need a friend. I’m okay. I’ll be fine. Despite how I feel now, I know we had a good talk despite it’s brash ending. Your Facebook nickname is “Still the Most Beautiful.” It’s dumb; not because you’re not the most beautiful but because you’ll never see it. You’ll see my nickname, which I cleared.

I think you’ve seen my post. Probably rolled your eyes and ignored it. It’s me venting. You’ve judged me VERY harshly in the past for my venting. I know you don’t think you did, but you have. You’ve been pretty unreasonable. I guess you’re trying to prove a point. If I were feeling better, maybe I’d guess what that point is.

It doesn’t matter. Nothing really matters. I’ve accepted this.

You’re probably not going to read my journal. Going to be a lot of entries I can see… for what? Well, it calms me down and keeps me collected. Guess it’s not that bad.

You know, the link I’ve linked you… The Scientist by Coldplay. I’ve always liked the song but only now have I listened to the lyrics. I don’t just listen to the song… I feel it. It’s hard to explain but… I’m lost in the lyrics listening to the meaning. The music video is great too, btw. Not that I’ve been watching it. A lot of weird physics in it, though. Maybe you and I can watch the music video in reverse and I can show you sometime… heh… Anyways, I don’t feel like writing anymore today. I’m going to have a snack and then go to bed… again. I’ll talk more tomorrow, alright? I still love you. Good night.

0 notes

searchingwardrobes · 5 years ago

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The Early Leaf’s a Flower: 3/11

So this is where things really start to shift from the original, and this is probably one of my favorite chapters. I probably worked harder on it than any other! This is also where Neverland mythology begins to come into play. Right before starting the rewrite-a-thon, I re-read J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan to my eight year old. The famous line “all children, except one, grow up” really hit me for the first time. Wait a second, all children except one? Every version of Neverland I had ever seen, from the cartoon, to Spielberg’s Hook, to Once, portray Neverland as a place where no one ages. But that’s not what the novel says!! Then, later on, the book casually mentions that the Lost Boys are constantly changing because some get killed in battle or - get this - Pan “thins them out” when they get too old. Umm . . . say WHAT? So here’s where my story gets dark with a super sadistic Pan . . . and I’m not sorry. At all. (mwhaha)

If you haven’t noticed, all chapter titles come from Peter Pan. They are either chapter titles in that book or phrases from the book. This one, mocking kisses, actually refers in the novel to Mrs. Darling who has a “mocking kiss conspicuously in the right hand corner of her mouth” which it says not even Mr. Darling or her children can get from her. There’s tons of interpretations for that, none of which have anything to do with how I’m using it here. Here, it has to do with growing up and awakening sexuality, and of course - you know - actual lip locks. So it’s not all dark in this chapter . . .

I’ll stop being an English Lit teacher and shut up now. Except to thank, once again, the incredible mods for the @captainswanbigbang and to my betas - @shippingtheswann , @optomisticgirl , and @distant-rose . This chapter especially deserves massive thanks to Ro for her pirate expertise! And be sure to follow the Captain Swan Rewrite-a-thon because ALL of the fics are incredible!

Summary: She saw eyes that were the blue of the forget me not peering at her through the cracked door of the wardrobe. He saw hair as gold as the buttercups. Why does the wardrobe keep bringing them back to one another, if fate keeps tearing them apart? Or maybe fate has her reasons …

Rating: M for eventual sexy times, violence, canonical character death, and attempted rape

Trigger warnings: vague references to child abuse (physical and sexual), violence, and eventual positive Millian

Words: A little over 7k in this chapter (all chapters will be rather lengthy from here on out)

** Complete and updated every Monday** Also on Ao3

Emma: Age 16

Emma lies in bed, wide awake, staring at the wardrobe across the room. It looks eerily familiar, though she tries to tell herself that’s crazy.

Her new foster family seems incredibly nice. Even the two boys who are the couple’s real children seem excited to have her here instead of jealous. The mother even seemed embarrassed when she showed Emma her room, explaining that it used to be an office, so it didn’t have a closet. She hoped Emma liked the wardrobe she had found at an antique store.

Emma stares at the wardrobe now and thinks of Martha. Another kind foster mother and another wardrobe, almost identical to the other? Happy coincidences like that don’t happen. At least not to Emma Swan.

She huffs and rolls over on her side, and tries not to think about the little boy with the soulful blue eyes. He was just an imaginary friend. A figment of her hurt soul and bruised heart. Her hand hovers over her cheek, and she inwardly berates herself. It was just a peck on the cheek, and she was ten for heaven’s sake! Correction, there was no peck on the cheek because it wasn’t real.

Because now that she’s 16, she knows better. Friends don’t just fall out of the sky – or wardrobes. And real kisses are an enormous disappointment. Like Tom Pierce when she was 13, her first kiss playing spin the bottle at a Halloween party. All she can say about that is that it was wet and sloppy, and he had bad breath. Then there was Robby Eddleston at the school dance last year. She thought he actually liked her when he asked to talk privately behind the bleachers. Then she was pinned against the wall while Robby shoved his tongue unceremoniously down her throat. But a quick knee to the groin had quickly taught Robby that she wasn’t an easy score.

Emma punches her pillow now in irritation. It’s ridiculous that an imaginary kiss to the cheek has been her best yet. Pathetic, Emma. She decides to push thoughts of the wardrobe and that pair of blue eyes from her head.

She’s just drifting off when a familiar creak reaches her ears. She ignores it, assuming she’s already dreaming. But then she hears footsteps padding softly across the hardwood floor. Emma squeezes her eyes shut tighter. Is someone standing over her, or is that her imagination? Then a hand softly touches her hair, and her eyes fly open as she sits up quickly. Her green orbs meet blue, and she gasps in shock. It startles her so much, her hand seems to act on its own and she slaps him across the cheek - hard.

“Bloody hell, Emma what was that for?”

“Killian?” She swallows hard. “I thought . . . I wasn’t sure . . . I mean, you’re real?”

He smiles, even as he rubs his red cheek, and it lights her up inside. “Liam didn’t think you were real either when I finally told him about you. But when I saw that wardrobe in the captain’s quarters, it looked so much like the one from when we were kids, I had to try.”

Emma winces. “Sorry I slapped you.”

Killian shrugs. “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that.”

Emma stares at him unabashedly by the light of her bedside lamp, taking in how much he has changed. Gone is the scrawny little boy, though he is still of slender build. Just like last time, he’s wearing a nightshirt that hangs to his knees, but she can still see defined muscles in his arms and legs. His chest is broader, and his shoulders are squared back, stronger and more confident than when he was ten. His hair has gotten darker, and it’s longer, hanging down in his eyes so badly, Emma itches to push it back. It also hangs down so close to his shoulders, that he could pull it back in a low ponytail if he wanted to. His freckles are less noticeable, and his complexion is more tanned, making his azure eyes spark even more than she remembered.

“I hope the Captain doesn’t catch me. I could be whipped for being in his quarters. Though it will be worth it, now that I’ve seen you again.”

He ducks his head as he realizes that he’s been chattering on and on, and Emma feels bad for him because she knows she ought to quit staring and say something already. He pushes his hair back from his face, and when he does, Emma notices his ears. They are slightly pointed, almost elf-like. They’re adorable.

He’s adorable.

He’s also cold, she realizes as he rubs his arms and curls his toes into the hardwood floor. Emma lifts the edge of her blankets. “Come here, you’re freezing.”

Those adorable ears of his turn red at her offer and he gapes for a minute like a fish. “That would be bad form, lass. Liam says I should always be a gentleman.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “First off, if you’re that worried, you’ll definitely be nothing but a gentleman. Second, I can take care of myself. If you get handsy, I’ll just put you in your place like I did with Robby Eddleston.”

“Who’s he?” Killian asks as he slides under the blankets next to her.

“Just a jerk who shoved his tongue halfway down my throat without permission.”

Killian’s eyes darken to a stormy, steel tinted cobalt. “He did what?”

Emma shoves him in the shoulder, “Calm down, jeez. I told you, I can take care of myself.”

“What did you do?”

“Kneed him in the jewels,” she says with a shrug, trying to come off as nonchalant.

He grins at her with obvious pride, “That’s a tough lass.”

They fall silent for a moment, and then Emma finally whispers into the dark, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you came back.”

“No need, love,” he quickly assures her, “though I was worried what had happened to you.”

Emma picks at the comforter spread across their laps, “Martha died of a stroke, and I had to go someplace else.”

Killian reaches for her hand, and her movements still. “I’m sorry. I know you said she was a good woman.”

Emma nods, swallowing down the pain. She turns to him with a quirked eyebrow. “Did you get my bunny?”

“I did, thank you,” he nods, “though I regret to say that he ended up in Davy Jones’ locker. My master at the time called me a baby for having it and tossed it out to sea.”

Emma cringes at the word “master,” but Killian doesn’t miss a beat in the telling of his story. “Davy Jones locker?” she asks. “People really say that where you’re from?”

Killian looks confused. “Seamen do.”

“Oh . . . “ she trails off, her brow furrowed as she tries to make sense of the difference between his world and hers.

“Nevertheless,” he continues, “I can’t tell you how much that small gesture meant to me. It had been so long since I had a plaything. Anyway, how has this new home been?”

Emma looks around her at the still unfamiliar surroundings. “Well, I haven’t been here long, actually. I’ve been bounced around a lot of places since Martha, and most haven’t loved me as well as she did. Except Sarah, until I found out she was crazy.”

“Crazy? How so?”

Emma groans at the memory. “She thought I had magic!”

Killian narrows his eyes. “Why is that crazy?”

“You can’t be serious! I mean, she almost got me killed.”

Killian shrugs, then gestures with his hand at the wardrobe. “I travel to you through an enchanted wardrobe, Emma. And you think magic sounds crazy?”

She huffs out a breath. “Well, okay, yes, you and I . . . that’s hard to explain. But me being like Hermione Granger or something? No way.”

“Hermione who?”

Emma laughs as she cocks an eyebrow at him. “You know, Harry Potter.” He just blinks in confusion. “Books. About wizards and witches.”

“Oh,” he says with a nod, but she can tell he’s still a bit confused, and no wonder. When they were ten, he didn’t even know what a movie was. Emma finds his confusion surprisingly endearing.

Emma leans against Killian’s shoulder with a sigh. “Can we not talk about me and my pathetic life? What’s been going on with you?”

Killian secedes to her wishes and begins to speak. He tells her about discovering rum for the first time at thirteen, and then gambling with dice and cards at fourteen. “I’m pretty good,” he brags.

Emma tilts her head up and grins at him saucily, “I’m sure you are.”

He swipes his tongue along his lower lip in a way that is simply unfair, then continues telling her about letting Liam down at every turn. He weaves a story of a storm at sea where all hands are lost but he and Liam; a story that has her hanging on his every word. This leads to him and his brother joining the Navy at 15 and 17, respectively. Emma turns her head again, her eyes wide.

“Isn’t fifteen awfully young for that?”

Killian shrugs, “Some join as powder monkeys at 11 or 12,” he tells her, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. His words remind her once again that their wardrobe connects two very different worlds. She also still wonders if Killian travels through both space AND time. His world seems so old-fashioned compared to hers. “I’ve caught on fast, though. So has Liam. He’s a lieutenant already, and many of the sailors think he will be the youngest yet to make Captain. I’m still just a cabin boy, but my Captain says it’s only because he likes the fine job I do. He’s talking of promoting me soon. This time, I won’t let my brother down.”

They both fall silent for a moment. Emma’s not sure what to make of their bizarre situation. Emma doesn’t want to contemplate what it means if he’s actually 300 years old or something and no longer living in the 20th century, so she decides to change the subject. She turns her hand so their palms are touching and laces her fingers with his.

“What kinds of things have you had to learn? Like sailor’s knots and star charts and stuff?”

“Aye, and other things, too. I’ve had to learn cartography and geography. And languages, too. Greek was the hardest.”

“You know Greek? Like Zeus and Poseidon and all of that?”

The smile he gives her almost seems teasing, “Of course.”

Emma pokes him in the side and grins when a laugh spills from his lips. “Say something in Greek for me.”

His face turns suddenly earnest as he gazes into her eyes and says, “Omorfi kopella.”

“What does that mean?”

He blushes and ducks his head. His unfairly long lashes brush the top of his cheeks as he answers. “I said you were beautiful.”

Killian brushes her cheek lightly with his thumb and then leans towards her. Emma meets him halfway. His lips are soft and warm against hers, and their touch makes her heart soar in her chest. This is what she had always imagined a kiss should be. It’s nothing like kissing Tom Pierce or Robby Eddleston. Killian tilts his head to deepen the kiss as his fingers thread through her hair, and Emma sighs into it. When he pulls back, his eyes are a midnight blue as he rests his forehead against hers.

“The thoughts I’m having right now aren’t very gentlemanly,” he confesses huskily.

Emma chuckles. “Good,” she tells him, thumbing his lower lip, still moist from their kiss.

A bright shaft of light falls across her bed and Emma groans. Killian cups her face in both his hands. “I wish I could stay, but –“

“Your brother,” she finishes for him. She looks long into his eyes. “I get it. You’re all each other has.”

Killian nods and brushes one more brief kiss across her lips as he rises from the bed. He bows to her, taking her hand and brushing his lips across her knuckles. She giggles, and he gives her a slightly roguish smile.

The last thing she sees before he disappears inside the wardrobe is the look of longing in his blue eyes.

“They remind me of Martha’s forget-me-nots,” she thinks to herself, “but sad, too.”

Killian: Age 16

“Get up here, little brother!”

Killian grabs his naval jacket and dashes up the ladder to the deck, grumbling under his breath about it being “younger” brother not “little.” It especially bothers him when Liam is speaking as Lieutenant Jones and not just family. Yet it seems Liam isn’t the only one loose with naval order at the moment. When Killian climbs out of the hold, he finds the rest of the crew chattering excitedly, gazes tilted upward.

“Killian!” Liam calls, racing to his side. “You almost missed the excitement!”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure, but the captain gave me a new sextant to plot our course, and it uses star charts I’ve never seen before.”

Killian’s eyes scan the ship’s deck, his eyes landing on the men wrestling to hoist an unusual sail. He blinks, thinking surely he must be seeing things, but as the sail rises, he finds it is, in fact, made of feathers. In the center of it is the symbol of a horse with wings.

“This sail,” Captain Roberts announces from his place on the quarter deck, “is made of feathers from the wings of the famous mythical horse Pegasus.”

“Captain!” the gunman shouts breathlessly. “Enemy ships off the port bow!”

The Captain ignores the announcement and turns to Liam Jones. “Lieutenant, plot our course!”

“Should we prep the canons, sir?” the gunman asks, confusion clear on his face.

“There will be no need,” Captain Roberts dismisses with a mysterious smile, “where we are headed, they can not follow.”

Killian glances at his brother, who heads for the ship’s wheel, but Liam looks just as confused as he. Killian rushes to the railing along with several other men of lower rank. They lean forward to watch the cannonballs from the enemy splash with a mighty roar into the water a safe distance away: warning shots.

Killian almost loses his balance as the Jewel of the Realm creaks and sways, his stomach dropping. His eyes widen as he sees the ocean fall away below. He and the rest of the men gasp as the reality sets in - the Jewel is airborne.

“Quit gaping and man your stations!” Captain Roberts shouts. “We’re heading to Neverland!”

There’s a quiet murmur after the announcement, even as the men scatter to their duties. Most have never heard of such a realm, while others whisper excitedly of a place they once visited in their dreams as children. The whispered tales seem far-fetched to Killian: a place where your dreams come true, where you can eat chocolate cake all day long, swim with mermaids, and even fly? Even at ten, he would never have believed it.

Of course, a magic wardrobe that takes you to the girl of your dreams seems far-fetched, he supposes. He grins as he remembers Emma’s lips on his, her soft cheeks beneath his calloused fingers, her silken hair tickling his jaw. He has to find a way to get back to her - hopefully tonight. He isn’t sure what this mysterious mission is all about, but surely the captain’s personal cabin boy won’t be needed for whatever it is. He only has to figure out a way to sneak into Captain Roberts’ quarters when the man isn’t there -

“Killian!”

He startles at the sound of his name, and Liam chuckles, clapping a hand to Killian’s shoulder. “Everyone else is mesmerized by our journey to the skies, yet here you are daydreaming.” Liam cocks his head as he regards his younger brother. “Oh no, it’s a lass, isn’t it?”

Killian blushes as he shrugs and returns to his work. “I’m just thinking.”

“If you say so,” Liam laughs as he tugs on Killian’s arm, “but don’t let your brooding cause you to miss this.”

Killian lets his brother drag him over to the railing. The ship cuts cleanly through the white, billowy clouds, with none of the swaying he’s become used to at sea. The air is crisp and a bit cold this high, and a particularly thick cloud suddenly envelopes them.

“Incredible,” Killian whispers.

“Brother, look,” Liam whispers back.

The clouds part, and the Jones brothers gasp as the world of blue and white becomes dark and gray. An island shimmers in the distance, surrounded by a blue-tinged glow. They lean further over the railing as the ship dips and begins its descent.

The Jewel of the Realm has arrived in Neverland.

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

In front of Killian, over his brother’s shoulder, is an inviting beach with palm trees that sway in the warm breeze. Behind him, the Jewel of the Realm is shrouded in an unnatural fog.

“Don’t worry, little brother, it’s a simple mission.”

Killian doesn’t even bother correcting him on the “little” part. “Aren’t you the least bit suspicious? A ship full of navy men, yet only two boys can fulfill this task?”

Liam narrows his eyes. “At eighteen I am hardly a boy.”

Killian chuckles. “You better hope you’re wrong if the superstitions of the rest of the crew are to be believed.”

Liam scoffs. “I think it has more to do with the simplicity of the task. We get the plant, row back to the ship, and we’re heroes.”

Killian hopes his brother is right. Captain Roberts had Killian in mind all along to retrieve the plant, but it was supposed to be twelve year old Jim Hawkins in the row boat, not Liam. Unfortunately, the lad had broken his leg and had to be left behind at the last port. Killian tries to tell himself that the captain is just being cautious, like Liam said, tries to agree with his older brother that the tales about this place are just stories nursemaids tell to their charges at bedtime. Shadows that take you away to the island in your dreams, pixies who blow their dust on children to make them fly, mermaids that drag lazy children to their deaths - it’s all surely nonsense.

They beach the row boat, and Liam slings his satchel over his shoulder. Inside is a sketch of the plant they are looking for. Killian narrows his eyes at the shadowy jungle before them. How are they ever to find one single plant in all this vegetation?

He and Liam hear the movement at the same exact moment and spin as they draw their swords. Standing before them on the beach is a lad about Killian’s age, dressed in a tunic made of green leaves and breeches crudely made of animal skins. The smile he gives them is full of mischief and something a bit more sinister. Killian’s spine crackles with suspicion. He glances at Liam, and it’s clear his brother doesn’t see the boy as a threat at all as the elder Jones casually lowers his sword.

“Is there a king on this island, boy?”

The lad smirks. “Just me.”

Killian narrows his eyes, and the boy glances his way with a knowing grin. Liam pulls the sketch out of his satchel.

“We’re looking for this plant, do you know it?”

The boy’s eyes widen. “Dreamshade? Of course I know it. Believe me, you don’t want to mess with it. It’s the deadliest poison.”

Liam scoffs. “It isn’t poison, it’s medicine.”

The boy crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head. “Who told you that?”

“My captain.”

“He lied. This captain must be quite the ruthless killer. Nothing causes suffering like dreamshade.”

“What’s your name?” Killian asks.

“Killian, don’t waste your time, he’s just a child.”

Killian’s jaw clenches. “I’m about his age. Am I just a child?”

“My name is Peter,” the boy tells them, a gleeful laugh spilling out of him, “and if you’re tired of them trying to turn you into men, you can come and play with me and my lost boys.”

“We don’t have time for games,” Liam mutters.

“Suit yourself,” Peter tells them with a shrug, “if it’s dreamshade you seek, then you’ll have no trouble finding it.”

Then, with a crowing laugh, and to the utter amazement of both Jones boys, Peter launches himself into the sky and speeds away upon the clouds back into the recesses of the forest.

“Okay,” Killian says slowly, “clearly that particular rumor was true.”

“Let’s just get this plant and get the bloody hell out of here.”

“I agree to the getting out of here part, but maybe we should proceed with caution about the plant.”

Liam’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. “Surely you don’t believe that boy over our own captain.”

Killian’s eyes narrow. “I’ve never trusted Captain Roberts completely, and besides, Peter is a native of this island. Perhaps we should -”

“Killian,” Liam cuts him off, “you don’t trust anyone.”

The smile his brother gives him softens the words, and Killian smiles back. “I trust you.”

“Then trust me in this,” Liam says with a slap to Killian’s shoulder. “Without order, without discipline to your superiors, this navy life won’t work.”

Killian wonders, not for the first time, if that’s the very reason this navy idea is a better fit for Liam than it is for him. Nevertheless, he sighs in resignation. “I’d follow you anywhere, brother, you know that.”

And with a nod of understanding and trust, the two of them plunge into the deep woods. The jungle is dark and damp, and Killian only has the trust in his brother’s navigational skills and his compass to find the way. Killian grips said compass in his sweaty hand, pushing aside the tendrils of fear that seek to grip his heart. There’s something ominous in this jungle, and he has the feeling they’re being watched.

Liam squints down at the sketch in his hand. “I thought the boy said this plant was abundant here.”

“Perhaps we’ve -”

Before Killian can finish his sentence, a crowing shout fills the air, and filthy boys drop from the branches above them and burst from the thick foliage on all sides. Some have arrows notched to the bows they carry, others have spears resting upon their shoulders, while still others grip daggers in their fists. All of them have smeared their faces with mud and are garbed in either bits and pieces of the nature around them or tattered remains of clothing. They snarl and gnash their teeth more like animals than humans. He and Liam pull out their swords, but they are completely surrounded. Some of the boys only reach as high as Killian’s hip, clearly only eight or nine at the most. The last thing he wants to do is kill children, even if they do appear savage. The circle of boys part to allow their leader through.

“May I introduce you to my lost boys,” Peter grins. “This island is ours with no grown ups to tell us what to do.”

Liam shakes his head. “All we want is the plant. We told you.”

Peter tilts his head as he steps closer. “You’ve already grown up.” He turns to Killian. “But you - you could join my crew. I can tell you like to play.”

For one, dreamlike moment, Killian wants to tell Peter yes. No expectations, no responsibilities - it sounds wonderful. Playing sounds nice, too. He hasn’t played since his mother passed, and when was that? How old was he? He can’t remember anymore. The parents who were supposed to be there for you and protect your innocence left, leaving you at the mercy of rough hands and sinister eyes. Grown ups were the people who stole your childhood, who tossed your plaything into the deep, dark sea. He thinks of the stuffed rabbit Emma gave him, pure white and soft, bobbing farther and farther away from him. His mind can almost see it, with that bright pink ribbon. His heart beats wildly, he sways where he stands, and -

Liam steps closer, his shoulder brushing up against Killian, and it’s that contact that snaps the sixteen year old out of it. Yes, his brother. He can’t let Liam down.

“Never.”

He expects Peter to scoff, get angry, or turn on him. Instead, his gaze takes him in and a slow, sinister smile plays across his face.

“We’ll see.”

Casually, Peter turns to one of his crew and takes the spear the lad holds. With a subtle gesture, he gives the boys a command, and they all relax their postures, holding their weapons loosely. Pan spins the spear playfully as he turns back to Lieutenant Jones.

“You still trust your captain, lieutenant?”

“Always,” Liam insists.

Peter lifts the spear and taps it gently against Liam’s chest. “Let’s test that, shall we? That plant you seek? The tip of this spear has been coated with its sap. Your captain says it is medicine, I say it’s poison. Who should you trust?”

“Liam,” Killian pleads.

Liam lifts his hand to still his brother. “I have no reason to trust you, boy.”

Peter’s eyes flash with a mixture of bloodlust and glee as he slashes the spear brutally across Liam’s chest. Liam cries out and stumbles to his knees, hand to his chest as blood stains his shirt. Killian shouts and falls to the ground beside his brother.

“Just a scratch,” Pan laughs, practically bouncing around them. The lost boys join in his revelry, spinning and giggling maniacally.

Liam groans and falls back, his body shaking. Killian catches him in his lap. Through the gash in his shirt, the wound on Liam’s chest is turning black around the edges and vines of black extend outward, spreading across his torso.

“What’s happening to him?” Killian shouts at Peter.

“Dreamshade poison. I told you. He’ll be dead in minutes.”

Killian goes pale as he looks at the boy in shock. It isn’t so much the casual way he spoke the words, but the spots of red in his eyes and the pleasure curling his lips.

“K-Killian,” Liam gasps, reaching towards his little brother with a trembling hand. Killian takes it and clasps it as tears stream down his face.

“Stay with me, brother,” Killian weeps, then he looks frantically at Peter. “Save him! Please!”

The boy shakes his head. “No one can be saved from dreamshade.”

“Killian,” Liam says again, wincing against the pain, “I’m sorry, little brother. I’m so sor-”

His voice cuts off and he goes limp in Killian’s arms, his hand slipping out of its hold and falling to the ground.

“No!” Killian screams. “No, no, no!”

He cradles Liam’s still form to his chest, rocking back and forth. Sobs wrack his body. He doesn’t know if the lost boys are still there or what they are doing. The whole world could fall apart and he wouldn’t notice.

“It’s a shame, really. I tried to warn him.”

Killian’s head snaps up at the sound of Pan’s voice. Anger fills his veins, but when he speaks, only despair colors his words. “He was all that I had.”

“I know,” Pan replies in a voice that almost sounds sympathetic. He crouches down next to where Killian still clutches his brother’s form. “And now that he’s gone, you finally have the look that all my lost boys share. The look of someone who is completely and utterly alone. An orphan.”

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

Killian watches Pan through the flickering flames of the campfire. The branch of a sapling rests in Killian’s lap, and his fingers twist a vine around each end to make a bow. Pan plays a song on his pipes, and several of the lost boys dance about to its melody. The song calls Killian, urging him to cast aside his pain and join the dance.

But he won’t let himself.

He squints up at the sun. He guesses it’s been about thirty three hours and . . . around twenty minutes since the lost boys tossed Liam’s body into the sea. Thirty three hours and twenty minutes without Liam. His entire life, Liam has been there, and now he’s gone.

Yesterday at dawn, he snuck down to the beach. The rowboat was still there, but the Jewel of the Realm was no longer a hulking form shrouded in the fog. He had taken the rowboat out - not for long and not far - and the ship was nowhere near shore. Surely they hadn’t flown away on the Pegasus sail. Surely they would wait longer than that before giving up on the Jones brothers. He guessed they had simply sailed out of sight or found a cove to hide in. Yet despite his hopes, it’s obvious that his captain cares little for mere boys. No search party has been sent, and Killian doubts it ever will.

Peter reminds him often that Liam’s death is the captain’s fault. The fault of every grown up on that ship, actually. They never cared about you. They never believed in you. Did you really think they would let you be a hero? There’s truth to Pan’s words, Killian knows this, and he’d be lying if he said hatred for his captain didn’t burn within his breast. But he’ll also never forget that it was Pan who sliced the spear laced with dreamshade across his brother’s chest. He’ll never forget Pan’s gleeful smile of satisfaction or the spots of red in his eyes as Liam’s blood seeped his naval shirt.

Killian eyes Pan across the fire now. The dance has reached a feverish pitch, and Killian already knows, in just thirty three hours as a lost boy, that the dance will soon fall apart into a wrestling match. Killian also knows that his only hope for survival is to play the part of a lost boy. Yet despite the naval blue ripped at the knees, despite the way he crowed when they set his naval jacket on fire, despite the mud smeared across his cheeks, Killian will never stop hating Peter Pan.

“Has Peter showed you how to lace that with dreamshade?”

Killian turns to the boy who has plopped down next to him. They all have names, but he can’t remember this one. His black hair is curled tightly against his head, his teeth seem white despite their filthiness against his dark skin. Freckles are barely visible across the bridge of his nose, and his brown eyes seem different somehow from the other boys.

“You forgot my name already didn’t, you?” he chuckles. “It’s Starkey.”

“Right,” Killian mutters, biting off the end of the vine that holds the arrowhead in place.

“There’s a trick to the dreamshade so you don’t nick yourself,” Starkey continues despite Killian’s unfriendliness. “Pan doesn’t always warn the boys. Thinks it’s funny.”

Killian casts a curious glance Starkey’s way. There’s definitely something in those mahogany eyes . . .

“He’s a bit sadistic, isn’t he?” Starkey asks, and Killian gets the impression he’s testing the waters somehow. The lad swallows, glancing nervously to where Peter is crowing over the inevitable wrestling match. “All boys but one grow up,” Starkey almost whispers.

Killian’s heart beats faster as he stares into the flames. “You mean,” he whispers back, not looking at his companion, “the others do?”

“I’m near thinning time,” Starkey replies, “so are Nibs and . Some are oblivious though. Ruffio, for example, he’ll no doubt stay faithful to the bitter end. I hate the look in their eyes when we turn on them.”

Killian turns his head in shock, but Starkey is slipping away into the jungle already. Starkey has obviously told him these things for a reason. But why?

As the next few weeks go by, he and Starkey have more whispered conversations, and Killian is surprised how quickly they become friends. Starkey’s tale is similar to his own, having spent time as a slave on a schooner. The only difference is that his parents were murdered and he was kidnapped, a trauma that Killian is sadly able to imagine now that Liam bled out in his arms.

Slowly, as the days go by, Starkey brings more boys into his confidence: Nibs, first, then Jooks, Noodler, Cecco, and Curly.

A hunting crew returns with a boar to roast, and that night there is a feast and a wild rumpus to follow. Though there is no alcohol, the whole thing reminds Killian of how he used to act when he’d drink too much rum. Killian feasts, he dances, even plasters a smile upon his face, but it’s all a show for Peter Pan. He can’t stop thinking of his brother for one, but there’s also Starkey’s cryptic words : thinning time.

Killian plops down, exhausted, and grabs a coconut to guzzle some of its milk. As he swipes the back of his hand over his mouth, he sees Pan at his side, leaning forward and scrutinizing his face. It takes all of Killian’s willpower not to startle back. For a long moment Peter studies him, and it causes a chill to run down Killian’s spine. When Pan finally speaks, his voice holds barely contained anger and a trace of shock.

“You have a mocking kiss in the corner of your mouth.”

Killian blinks. “Wh-what are you talking about?” His mind goes to Emma, of course, not that she is ever far from his thoughts. Especially now with Liam gone, he longs for the wardrobe in Captain Roberts’ cabin and fears he may never see it again.

“There,” Pan accuses, pointing with a dirty finger, “perfectly conspicuous in the right-hand corner. How did I not see it before?”

Killian glances around nervously as the party noises have gone silent. Several lost boys have drawn closer, concern furrowing their brows.

“He has a kiss, Peter?” one of the boys asks.

“Kisses are dangerous!” another one gasps.

“Yes,” Peter answers, his eyes narrowing with a faint glimmer of red, “a mocking kiss, and one he’s very fond of too.”

Killian swallows hard as he rises to his feet. The lost boys seem to be closing the noose around him, and he looks around frantically. There seems to be no choice but to fess up, hope for mercy, though Peter doesn’t seem the merciful type.

“So I’ve kissed lasses. So what? I’m 16!”

“No,” Pan hisses, “not lasses. One lass. A special lass.”

Killian clenches both fists, his face flushing at the way Pan spits out the words. Emma is special, and he won’t deny it. Ever.

“We don’t like girls,” Peter snarls, “they fancy themselves your mother, making you wash before meals and putting you to bed at a proper time.”

Killian narrows his eyes. “Um . . . I think you’re a bit confused.”

It was the wrong thing to say. He couldn’t help his sass, has rarely been able to help it.

“Your brother was obvious. He’d already chosen to grow up. But you, you tricked me. You can’t be a lost boy with that kiss always mocking me.”

Killian knows a heartbeat before it happens that the lost boys will fall upon him. What he doesn’t expect is to find his old naval sword in his hand or for Starkey, Nibs, and several others to fall in line just behind him. He glances at Starkey right before the two sides clash, and the other boy winks at him knowingly.

Those on Killian’s side are all older, but they are fewer in number. And Starkey was right, not all the other boys close to thinning time are willing to turn on their leader. Rufio is the oldest and fiercest fighter, his loyalty to Pan clear in his gaze and his willingness to die. Killian guesses he is seventeen, and he’s broader and taller than Killian. Nevertheless, Killian has naval training with a sword. He holds back, however, unwilling to slaughter little boys, no matter the situation. Yet when he finds himself face to face, blade to blade, with Rufio, something shifts. Pan may not want his boys to grow up, but Rufio fights like a man. Unrefined and a bit desperate, but with strength and muscle behind it.

All skirmishes cease as the sound of the blades clashing draws everyone’s attention. Ruffio fights dirty while Killian has been taught to fight like a gentleman. At first, Rufio’s style seems to be winning when he trips Killian then flings sand in his face. Yet Killian’s training has given him muscle memory, and even with his eyes burning, he acts instinctively.

Killian’s blade pierces Rufio’s heart. The boy’s eyes widen in shock before he hits the ground, blood spreading quickly across his chest. The lost boys are silent. Chest heaving, Killian turns towards Pan, lifting his blood-stained sword.

“I have a crew of my own now,” he tells the demon child, “and we’re leaving.”

Pan narrows his eyes, and before Killian can register what’s happening, he’s taken flight and making circles around him. Pan lands just behind Killian and startles him when he speaks.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow mutiny in my ranks.”

Killian turns to face Pan, ready for a fight, but is unprepared when Peter plunges his hand into his chest. Killian gasps and chokes as Pan squeezes. Then he tugs and with a sharp pain, yanks Killian’s heart out. Killian’s mouth hangs open in shock as he presses his hand to his chest. There’s no blood. How is there no blood?

Pan lifts a glowing red object and holds it in Killian’s face - his heart. It pulses, bright red, with tiny swirls of dark flitting through it.

“Look at this, Killian Jones, you have a touch of darkness in your heart.”

Killian doesn’t know what to do, he can scarcely comprehend what is happening. He’s heard rumors of witches and warlocks who could steal a man’s heart. He never expected it of this boy, however. Killian drops to his knees as Pan squeezes his heart.

“I could crush it right now and end you,” Pan mocks gleefully, “but since you attempted to steal my crew, I’m thinking of a more fitting punishment.”

Pan leans forward and slams Killian’s heart back into his chest. In the same moment, Peter’s other hand snatches Killian’s abandoned sword and he brings it down upon Killian’s wrist, slicing off his left hand. Killian screams in pain, holding his severed appendage to his chest as he falls backwards. Starkey catches him and helps him to his feet, Nibs supports him on the other side.

Pan kicks at the lifeless hand where it lies upon the ground. “They say a vein runs from the heart right down to the tip of your left hand. Fitting don’t you think?”

Pan and his loyal followers melt into the jungle, and Killian doubles over in pain. “Leave me,” he grits out to Starkey and Nibs.

But the two former lost boys in addition to the few others who had stood at Killian’s back refuse to leave him. They drag him through the jungle in the opposite direction of the rest of Pan’s crew.

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

Killian Jones stands at the top of the highest peak in Neverland. The last month has been a time of healing for him. Healing from losing his hand. Healing from the loss of his brother.

But the thirst for revenge? That hasn’t waned.

Killian looks down at the curve of metal at the end of his left arm. His jaw clenches as he gazes upon it, then back out to sea. His new crew had taken him to a couple of fairies - Tinker Bell and Tiger Lily. They had enough pixie dust between them to help him heal, though it was still a long, slow process. No amount of light magic, however, could give him back his hand.

“Hook?”

Killian turns to where Starkey stands further down the hill. That’s what his crew calls him now: Hook. His blue eyes gaze back out to sea at a familiar speck of white on the horizon.

“Get the crew together,” he tells his faithful friend. “We have ourselves a ship.”

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

For only the second time in his life, Killian Jones has bloodied his sword. Killing Rufio had been largely in self defense, and he had felt sick as he watched the boy’s life blood stain the ground. He doesn’t feel sick now as he strides amongst the naval crew he used to be a part of. He and his new crew had fought ruthlessly, and now their remaining enemies have been tied and gagged.

“If you don’t want to die today,” Killian announces, “you can pledge allegiance to me, Captain Hook.”

A choking laugh escapes the gagged mouth of the Jewel of the Realm’s captain. Killian’s eyes flash when he hears it, and he strides to Captain Roberts. He leans down and yanks the gag from the man’s mouth with his hook.

“Is something funny?” he snaps.

“You are still nothing but a boy.”

Killian leans close to the man’s ear and speaks to him in a whisper. “Really? Is that why you sent my brother and I like lambs to the slaughter? You sent mere boys to retrieve your poison?”

“You knew what you were signing up for when you joined the navy.” Roberts turns and spits in Killian’s face.

Behind Hook, his new crew of former lost boys gasp in shock. Their new leader stands erect, calmly wiping the spittle away with his handkerchief.

“What about loyalty, Roberts? When my brother and I didn’t promptly return, you sailed away and left us.” Killian clenches his jaw. “I see Hawkins is back on board. Were you returning to send him to this accursed island? Still a coward?”

Killian doesn’t need the man to answer; he knows it to be true. Hawkins stands behind him, shoulder to shoulder with Starkey, his arms crossed as he coldly assesses his captain. Killian catches the boy’s eye and Jim nods his approval before Killian hefts his sword and plunges it into Captain Robert’s shoulder. The man flings his head back and screams. Seeing the blood spill upon the deck as he pulls the sword back reminds Killian of Liam, and filled with rage, he stabs the man in the other shoulder. Whimpers color the man’s grunts of pain.

“What do you want?” he manages to choke out.

Killian raises his hook and plunges it into the man’s chest. “I want my brother back, you son of a bitch.” He twists his hook viciously before yanking it out, and the man’s lifeless body crumples to the deck.

Silence reigns on the deck as Captain Hook calmly straightens, wiping his bloody hook clean on his handkerchief. “Raise the black flag!” he shouts to Starkey. “This ship is now the Jolly Roger!”

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @teamhook @bethacaciakay @let-it-raines @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @courtorderedcake @branlovestowrite @hollyethecurious @vvbooklady1256 @profdanglaisstuff @carpedzem @ekr032-blog-blog @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @spartanguard @shireness-says @scientificapricot @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @sherlockianwhovian @snidgetsafan @ohmakemeahercules @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @nikkiemms@delirious-latenight-laughs

#cs ff #csrt #captain swan rewrite a thon #cs neverland au #cs canon divergence #magic wardrobe #soul mates #childhood sweethearts #angst #slow burn

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searchingwardrobes · 5 years ago

Text

The Early Leaf’s a Flower: 9/11

So, this is one of the chapters that earned this fic its M rating. Those who read the original probably remember what’s coming, but just to warn the rest of you: this chapter contains attempted rape and graphic violence.

Now that I have those trigger warnings out of the way, this is also the chapter that finally gets around to the prompt that originally inspired this whole idea. The prompt was: “A child is kidnapped, and the monster under the bed isn’t happy about it.” Let’s just say, Killian is the monster and something happens that makes him very, very angry. You won’t like Captain Hook when he’s angry ;) Well, I do, honestly, but there are characters in this chapter who won’t.

Thanks once again to the @captainswanbigbang mods for hosting the Captain Swan Rewrite-a-Thon as well as my betas @shippingtheswann and @optimisticgirl - you both are the best!

Rating: M for eventual sexy times, violence, canonical character death, and attempted rape

Trigger warnings: vague references to child abuse (physical and sexual), violence, and positive Millian

Words: About 3k in this chapter

** Complete and updated every Monday** Also on Ao3

Emma: Age 23

Emma is on pins and needles all day long, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She’s such a bundle of nerves at her new waitressing job, that she spills coffee and breaks two dishes. She berates herself, thinking she’s going to end up her own worst enemy and get herself fired. But her boss is surprisingly patient, chalking it up to first day jitters.

It’s jitters, all right. Fear of the universe screwing her over again, for one. And then the more pleasant kind of jitters, the kind that has red creeping up her neck and butterflies doing a chorus line in the pit of her stomach. The memories of last night with Killian are making it incredibly hard to concentrate on the here and now.

Surprisingly, Emma makes it to the end of the day without any major catastrophes. Her bug starts just fine, and nothing looks amiss when she gets to Jackie’s. She unlocks the back door entrance to her rented room with her eyes closed. She isn’t sure what she expects. A fire? A flood? Neal? She chuckles ironically at that last thought. She spent two years looking, waiting, pining. Now Neal is the last person on earth she wants to see.

But when she opens her eyes, nothing is amiss. Yet her feeling of dread doesn’t abate as the night wears on. The mac n cheese she makes for supper sticks to her throat, imaginary sounds assault her in the shower, and her hands shake as she slips into her pajamas. (Though she doesn’t worry about dropping the towel – Killian is welcome to look now.)

She climbs into bed wide awake. If she was the type, she would read a book to pass the time. She wishes there was a TV. Instead, she lies there staring at the cracks in the ceiling. As time ticks on, she sits up and hugs her knees like she’s ten again and stares at the wardrobe. Could it be possible? Have she and Killian finally defied fate?

As if fate has a sick sense of humor, Emma hears at that very moment loud shouts from the main part of the house. Then crashes, things breaking, and a scream. Emma curses herself for her delayed reflexes; she’s entirely too off her game tonight. She leaps from the bed and grabs a poker resting against the fireplace and hoists it like a club just as two burly, tattooed men burst through her bedroom door. Emma swings the poker at them as they barrel towards her, but she may as well be swinging a toothpick at a grizzly bear. They sling her across the room, then lift her up and slam her against the wardrobe. The first of the two men, with a shaved head and biceps the size of boulders, squeezes her throat with both hands.

“Where are the drugs?” he demands, shaking her.

“I don’t know!” she gasps, clawing at the hands around her throat.

The second man begins to tear her room apart, opening drawers and flinging out their contents. He pulls her duffel out from under the bed and dumps it all out on the floor. Emma thinks of Killian and begins to kick her feet against the wardrobe door. It kicks her assailant, too, which is convenient, and one particularly hard kick lands right where it hurts most. He yells and drops her, and Emma scrambles across the floor on her hands and knees as she gasps in sweet air.

She’s just gotten to her bedroom door and grasped the knob when the second man grabs her by her hair and slings her across the room. She hits the side of her bed and slides to the floor. The man lifts her up, pinning her arms against her side, and shoves her onto the bed. He gets on top of her, his knees pinning her legs to the bed.

“Let’s have fun with her,” he snarls to his companion, “then I bet she’ll tell us where Jackie hid the stash.”

Emma thrashes, but he has her pinned. She looks longingly towards the door, which has swung open. Her heart plummets when she sees Jackie lying there in a pool of blood, her throat slashed. The bald man chuckles at his friend’s suggestion and comes over the other side of the bed.

“Sounds fun,” he sneers.

Emma panics and claws at the men as they pin her arms above her head. “Killian!” she screams, turning her head towards the wardrobe. “Killian!”

“Shut up,” the men snap, one of them slapping her across the face with the back of his hand. Emma turns and tries to bite him.

“She’s feisty,” the one on top of her says, his breath rancid, “this will be fun.” He pulls out a knife and holds it to Emma’s throat.

Just as the other man reaches down and rips at her pajama shirt, a blur of black leather comes crashing through the wardrobe with a feral yell. Killian yanks the man with the knife off Emma and slashes him across the throat with his hook before he can even lift his knife. Emma slides from the bed and to the floor, pulling her ripped shirt closed. The bald man flies over the bed towards Killian, and Killian spins out of the way. The man lands with a loud grunt, and by the time he scrambles to his feet, Killian has pulled a sword from a scabbard at his side. Before the man even realizes what is happening, the sword is plunged deep in his gut. Killian yanks the sword free, and the man crumples, dead in a pool of his own blood.

Killian spins towards her, his long leather coat swirling about his legs, his eyes a steely blue as he gazes at her with a tortured expression. She’s always been one to scoff at the whole damsel in distress trope, but at this moment, she has never seen anything more beautiful than this man. She swears he seems to glow like some avenging angel.

His face falls as he glances first at his bloodied hook and then at his bloodied sword. “You’re afraid of me,” he says.

Emma shakes her head, unable to speak as tears tumble down her cheeks. She knows how she must look, curled in around herself and shivering on the floor. “H-he ripped my shirt,” she says, hating how small and vulnerable her voice sounds.

Killian’s sword clatters to the floor, and he quickly wipes his hook on the bed sheets as he falls to his knees beside her. “I’m so sorry, Emma. I’m so sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”

He then shrugs out of his duster and drapes the heavy leather over her shoulders. Emma clutches the coat closed and falls against his chest. He holds her as she weeps.

“Did I get here in time?” he chokes out, and she can hear that he’s crying, too.

She nods against his chest.

His hold tightens around her, and when his words come again, they are tight with righteous indignation, “It shouldn’t have happened at all.”

“It isn’t your fault,” she whispers.

They fall silent as he holds her, running his hand through her hair. Eventually, his hand moves to cup her face and he gently tips her head back to look at him. “Emma, last night changed everything for me. For the first time since I was a lad, light filled my heart.” His thumb wipes at the tracks of her tears, and he smiles hesitantly at her. “Come with me, Emma.”

She looks long into those pools of cerulean and braces herself for him to say he’ll take care of her. It’s what men always say in these situations, at least in the movies, and while part of her longs for that, another part of her rebels against it. She doesn’t want to owe him or need him to the point she loses herself, like with Neal. Killian traces her jaw, then thumbs her chin, and she waits.

He smiles at her and says, “We’d make quite the team, I’m sure of it. And I have a feeling there’s a little pirate in you, love.”

Emma’s eyes widen in complete surprise. That wasn’t what she thought he would say at all. Even now, trembling in a ripped shirt, he’s still looking at her the way he did when she told him about kneeing Robby Eddleston in the nads. Like he believes that she can do anything.

Emma glances around the tiny room with cracks on the ceiling and yellowed paper on the walls. At the miniature table with only room for one lonely chair. What’s keeping her here anyway?

Then her eyes take in the gruesome scene of three dead bodies. She’s the only survivor of this little bloodbath, which evidently has something to do with drugs. The cops won’t believe she’s innocent, not with her past criminal record. No one will vouch for her, the court assigned attorney won’t see a need to fight for her defense. Case closed, neat and tidy. She’ll go back to jail.

Emma smiles up at her pirate in shining armor. “Why not?”

His grin practically splits his face at her answer, and he presses a chaste kiss to her forehead. He sheathes his sword, then before she knows what’s happening, he’s scooped her up in his strong arms. Emma rolls her eyes.

“Killian, I’m perfectly capable of walking.”

He smiles down at her with that crooked grin he’s always had, even at ten. “Never said you weren’t, love, but that’s entirely beside the point.”

The wardrobe begins to emit that familiar glow as he turns towards it. Killian toes it open with his boot, then steps through with Emma in his arms. Behind her is death and decay, but before her is a stately Captain’s quarters with a bank of bright windows. Killian puts her down and she turns in a slow circle, still clutching his duster about her frame.

“It's so . . . neat and tidy. I was expecting it to look more like the Black Pearl in the movies.”

Killian scoffs, “That git Jack Sparrow? I take far more pride in my ship than he does. And why does he get a movie, too?”

Emma laughs as she turns to him. “You don’t even know what a movie is. Or have you seen one since I saw you last?”

He scratches behind that ear again. “Um, no. But I like the idea of being famous even in your realm.”

He grins at her cockily, rocking back on his heels. She turns and sees the wardrobe behind her. Emma reaches out a shaking hand in wonder. “Unbelievable. It’s just like the one in my world.”

“Aye,” Killian remarks, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her. She turns in his embrace, wrapping her own arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his chest.

“I’m so tired, Killian.”

“I’ll leave you then,” he tells her, “there’s a trunk in the corner of Milah’s old things. There should be a nightgown. I’m not sure if it’s your size, but we can stop in the next port and buy you some things of your own. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

He kisses the top of her head and turns to go, but she grabs his hook to stop him. “Don’t go. Please.”

He steps closer, eyeing her in return. “After what happened, I wasn’t sure . . .”

His words make her melt inside. How could he ever have been a villain? She takes his hand and threads their fingers. “I trust you,” she tells him, “and I just want you to hold me.”

He does as she asks, and his embrace combined with the swaying of the sea, lulls her into the deepest sleep Emma has ever had.

Emma and Killian: 23

When the sun shines through the small windows of his quarters the next morning, Killian feels content and well rested in a way he hasn’t in years. He knows that a large reason for that is the woman in his arms. He looks down at Emma, her back to his front. Her blonde hair is a riotous mess, tickling his nose and chin. Her face is relaxed in sleep, her cheeks pink. He remembers how she trembled the night before, how wide her eyes had been, how small she had looked curled in on herself as she attempted to cover her body. He wishes he didn’t know what that trauma was like, wishes seeing her didn’t bring back memories of recoiling from Liam’s touch after . . .

Killian presses his eyes shut, unwilling to go back to that place, even all these years later. Instead he presses a gentle kiss to Emma’s head and lightly runs his finger down her forearm. Sex is the last thing on his mind right now; he’s far too concerned with making sure she feels safe. He knows it may take her awhile to feel comfortable with more than platonic embraces, and some days, she may not want even that. He is determined to be whatever she needs.

She’s here with him; that’s all that matters now. Finally, after so many years, they can really be together. There’s no rush for them to figure things out, and he’ll wait as long as it takes. He lifts her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles before turning her palm up and pressing a chaste kiss there. His thumb runs over the inside of her wrist, and he stills.

Blinking, Killian leans closer to look at the design upon her inner wrist, and his breath catches in his throat. He’s seen that mark before . . .

“He has it, the mark that I found in my research,” Tink whispers to Killian.

The boy finishes the cup of water the fairies had given him, his brown eyes still wide and fearful as he runs the back of his hand across his mouth. When he does, Killian sees it - the mark. It looks more like a tattoo than a birthmark and is shaped like a small flower. The child sets his cup down, and Killian notices his hands are still trembling.

“It’s okay,” Tiger Lily tries to assure him, “no one will hurt you anymore.”

“Where’s John?” the boy asks. It’s the first words he’s spoken since Hawkins rescued him from Pan.

Killian exchanges nervous glances with the fairies. Tink’s eyes are struggling against tears as she kneels beside the boy.

“He . . . had to go away. He didn’t want to, but . . . he . . . “

Killian tosses aside the poultice Tiger Lily had put on his head wound and paces with nervous energy.

“Do you want that wound to get well or do you want to drop where you stand?” Tiger Lily admonishes him.

“Oh please,” Tink grumbles, pulling her wand from the pouch at her side. She snaps her wrist towards Killian’s head, and his wound is bathed in pixie dust. He touches it tentatively, and grins when he feels no pain.

“Tink!” Tiger Lily scolds. “Magic isn’t to be used to -”

“Ladies,” Killian hisses, gesturing to the corner where the boy is now cowering. “It may be best to limit the magic until he’s adjusted, savvy?”

Killian spies Michael’s old teddy bear in a basket near the rocking chair. He remembers Wendy sitting there darning socks, and his breath catches. Pushing aside the memory, he picks up the teddy bear and gets down on his knees before the lad.

“We only want to help you, my boy,” he tells the child, offering him the toy.

The boy inches forward, eyeing Killian warily. He snatches the teddy bear and

holds it close, burying his face against the bear’s furry head.

“Let’s start with introductions, shall we? My name is Killian. What’s yours?”

“Henry.”

In the present, Emma begins to stir in Killian’s arms.

“Hey,” she murmurs as she turns her face towards him, eyes blinking with the remnants of sleep.

“Morning, love,” he whispers back, his thumb still tracing over the pattern on her wrist as he attempts to pull his thoughts together.

Emma turns in his embrace and gives him a sleepy smile. “Thanks for . . . well, everything.”

“I wish it had never happened,” he tells her huskily as he twirls a piece of her hair around his finger.

“Hey,” she says, pressing her palm against his cheek, “are you okay?”

He swallows, unsure if this is the best time to bring up her birthmark. “Just worried about you, ‘tis all.”

Emma frowns. “You’re lying.” She sits up and leans back against the headboard.

Killian takes in every line of her face, amazed at the intelligence and strength that he sees. There will be no subterfuge where Emma is concerned, that much is clear. He lets out a long sigh and takes her hand, gently turning it to reveal the mark on her wrist.

“How long have you had this, love?”

She chuckles lightly. “It’s not a tattoo, if you can believe it. I’ve always had it. Martha - you remember her, right? - well, she said it looks like a buttercup.”

Every nerve in his body begins to tingle. It scarcely seems possible. All this time . . .

“Emma,” he says carefully, taking her face in his hand, “the son you gave up . . . “ He hesitates, searches her widening eyes, licks his lips nervously, “did he have this same birthmark?”

“Yes,” she breathes, “how . . . how did you know?”

He presses his forehead to hers, hoping to bolster her. “Darling, would you like to meet him?”

“What?”

“Your son. I know where he is.”

#cs ff #csrt #captain swan rewrite a thon #cs neverland au #cs canon divergence #magic wardrobe #soul mates #fate #angst #slow burn #childhood sweethearts

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