#this came to me in a visceral reaction when that man called me kitten and i was like

[babyb1ues]

xavier’s dynamic with mc is the most goated to me because first and foremost they chill with each other like friends do. Like that’s the foundation of everything, like sure it’s the nature of the game for it to be romantic but take that away and they would still get along so well—they’re friends and they meet each other in the middle as equals and at the end of the day it’s still love. sometimes no one else will know you the way a friend does

[tracybirds]

Happy Birthday @ak47stylegirl ! I’m pretty sure you like some whump and I KNOW you love Allie and Scott so I hope you enjoy the read and have had a nice day :) Thank you for organising the EasterTAG, for sharing your own stories and for generally being such a cheerleader for us all :D

Fun facts for everyone, writing this I learnt that most freefall over about 9 metres is fatal so anyway, that’s why I had to make poor Scott uh.... bounce.... um... do with that information what you will

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Alan hovered on the edge of his vision and Scott bit back a sigh. He hadn’t seen his brother properly in nearly three days. John told him quietly that he’d spent the entire night curled up beside Scott’s bed. He had refused to see him before the surgery and wouldn’t stay to fly Scott home, a decision that still cut him deeply. Despite the low murmurs of reassurance that he could hear through the door as people came in and out of his room, no-one in the family had managed to convince Alan to actually come in and talk to him. An hour ago Gordon had left the door open, ignoring Scott’s irritated call and given Alan a long, significant look before flouncing away.

Scott had been watching him ever since. He could see his youngest brother clearly now, still pacing outside and trying to pluck up the nerve to walk into the room. But it didn’t bring the two any closer together.

Scott had been patient, but the constant and silent presence was starting to grate against him. He needed to speak with his brother.

“Alan, just come in,” he finally said, unable to wait any longer.

Alan startled at the sudden noise.

Scott beckoned and although Alan was as wary as a stray kitten, he crept hesitantly forwards.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked quietly, slipping back into the chair he’d reportedly vacated several hours earlier.

“I’m doing okay, kid.” Scott tried to twist his neck to look over at his brother, but the movement caused sharp pain to radiate from his left shoulder and he hissed in discomfort.

Alan only looked more upset.

“Grandma said you were getting better.”

“I am. Surgery went well. It’s just gonna take a while before I’m back where I was.”

“I’m so sorry, Scott,” he said, the tears welling up in his eyes again as he looked up at his big brother.

“It’s not your fault, Allie,” said Scott with a soft smile. “You couldn’t have done anything differently.”

“I should have thought of something,” he said, his expression mulish. “Instead of waiting to be rescued.”

“I made that call, Alan,” said Scott. “It was my call to make and I’m proud that you followed my directions to the letter.”

“But it meant you got hurt.”

“It meant that you didn’t die,” corrected Scott gently.

Alan blinked at him, his exhausted brain processing that statement.

“It looks worse than it is.”

Alan snorted in disbelief.

“It looks like you dislocated your shoulder and then decided to get pummelled by a mountain before landing on the ground below with a concussion to match.”

“I don’t have a concussion.”

“You do have brain damage though if you think it looks worse than it is. Have you seen yourself?”

“It doesn’t even hurt that much anymore.”

“That’s because you’re on painkillers.”

“And God bless the man who invented them,” said Scott, lifting his good arm in slow celebration.

“I think you’re still high.”

Scott shrugged and then groaned as his vision whited out from the pain.

“Remind me not to do that again,” he said, grimacing.

“Sure thing. Hey Scott?”

“Not now, Alan.”

Behind the worry, Scott saw Alan’s lips twitch. The old joke and familiar banter with his youngest brother was going a long way to reassuring Scott that he was doing okay. But there was still that guarded look in Alan’s eyes, the look that had only begun to appear recently as Alan begun to lock away his emotions.

“How are you feeling, Allie?” he asked softly, suspecting he already knew the answer.

Alan’s face fell again and he avoided his brother’s gaze. Scott sighed.

“Get over here,” he muttered, holding his good arm out to draw Alan into a hug.

Alan burrowed into him and Scott ignored the slight burn in his chest that might be his aching heart if his ribs weren’t feeling so battered and bruised.

“I keep seeing you,” he said in a voice barely louder that the waves crashing on the rocks far below them. “Down at the bottom of the mountain.”

Scott froze.

There’s a big hole in his memory, his last memory of that day was Alan’s terrified, agonised face staring down at him from above as he slipped out of his baby brother’s grasp. Three days, and he’d not once wondered what Alan’s memory of that moment was. He’d never considered how for Alan, that moment of horror didn’t end with a jumbled mess of confused sensations overwhelming his body before blacking out from the first impact with the hard rock. That the moment might have continued beyond his own capacity for consciousness.

Some big brother he was.

“Allie, I…” began Scott, trailing off as his words only made the teenager cry harder.

“I dropped you, Scott.”

“You caught me.” Bile rose in his throat at that memory, a visceral reaction to the sharp jolt of pain that had run through his shoulder as it dislocated. He’d definitely been awake then.

“I dropped you and you fell and you kept smashing into the rocks and then you didn’t get up again,” repeated Alan, his words a solemn and desperate confession. “And then… then I let you lie there. Virgil asked what happened and I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move.”

He took in a shaky breath and clutched at Scott tightly.

“Virgil and Gordon got you out of there. I couldn’t… I didn’t…”

Scott didn’t know what to say. He just held Alan close, murmuring nonsense like his parents had taught him when they first placed a baby brother in his arms.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” whispered Alan into his chest.

“You did everything you could,” said Scott gently. “I’m sorry you had to live through that.”

“But why couldn’t I help?” asked Alan, sounding lost and confused and young. “I’ve never frozen like that before.”

“You were in shock Allie,” said Scott. “You went into shock because it doesn’t matter how often you do it, with family it’s always different.”

“It is?”

Scott nodded, his throat closing up as he held back his own memories from spilling over.

“It never changes.”

A tap on the doorframe made them both look up.

Virgil was standing there, an odd mixture of relief and sorrow on his face.

“Time for more meds,” he said simply, waiting for Alan to move back. “Alan, go help Gordon with the cooking for tonight.”

Alan’s looked between the two brothers, wanting nothing more but to stay with Scott.

“Allie, come on,” called Gordon, his eyes flitting up towards Virgil.

Scott narrowed his eyes, knowing full well that Virgil and Gordon were tag teaming them, but Alan left without protest.

He paused in the doorframe, watching as Virgil moved to Scott’s side.

“Hey Scott?”

“Yeah?”

His little brother’s eyes were blue and bright as he looked back at Scott.

“Don’t do that again.”

The reminder stung.

“I won’t.”

[retro-melanin]

Home Is Where You Are (part II)

LET’S GET NASTY. This is my first publicly posted smut so be gentle pls. This is basically PWP. Also I’m a subby, bottom ass bitch so that’s the perspective this is written from. Idk how to link on mobile but part one is on my blog. Sorry for any typos, but enjoy y’all!

‘He’s really here,’ you thought. You ambushed his face with kisses, and he blinked sweetly at the onslaught.

“I love you. I love you. I love youuuuu,” you sang song between kisses. You watched his eyes crinkle into a smile, and your heart swelled. Chadwick lifted you up without warning, causing an eeeep to escape you.

“Looooooove, loooOOOOoOove, loooooove,” he sang SZA’s Love Galore to you as he turned the two of you so that he could sit down on the bed. You both let out hearty laughs with heads thrown back and mouths agape. When you both settled, you let your hands snake around Chadwick’s head. You threaded your fingers through his tightly coiled curls and brought his face within inches of yours. He spoke first.

“I don’t know how i went three months without holding you, baby,” he whispered. He closed the distance between your lips. His soft, pillowy lips meeting yours with just the right amount of pressure. You inhaled deeply as your lips moved in tandem with his. You tugged, ever so gently, on his kinks, and he surged forward. What began as innocent, familiar kissing, slowly morphed into something more visceral. You sucked on his bottom lip before diving in for a lewd, sloppy kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, claiming ownership.

“Mmmm,” you moaned, pulling away. You watched his lips chase yours.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re sleepy baby. It’s just been so long....” he trailed off. His eyes following your fingers as you slowly undid each button on his shirt.

“I don’t know why you keep apologizing,” you said as you rolled your hips over the bulge you could feel forming beneath you. You finished unbuttoning his shirt, and you used your index finger to bring his gaze up to meet yours.

“Do you want to unwrap your present? Or you want me to do it for you?” You whispered into his ear. You let your teeth graze his earlobe, and you felt him shiver beneath you.

“Let me baby,” he said with a smirk. He reached for he hem of his baggy, old tank top and pulled it up. He gasped as caught a glimpse of your lingerie. He hurriedly pulled the tank top completely off of you to reveal your red lace teddy. The see through lace hugged the swell of your breasts, barely obscuring your dark nipples. His eyes followed the deep v and rested where the lace finally met, just below your belly button and dangerously close to where you needed him so badly.

“Oooooh SHIT. This is....wow.” He exclaimed. “I get to call you my girl? I don’t know if i deserve allathis.”

“I know I look good if i got you out here swearing,” you joked.

“Better than good baby, you’re perfect.” He kissed you. “Wonderful.” Kiss. “Astonishing.” Kiss “Awe-inspiring” Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. “Let me worship your body.”

“Baaaaby, tonight was supposed to be about you,” you whined. You wanted to pamper your man, but you already knew this was a losing battle. Once Chadwick made up his mind, there was no sense in trying to changing it. He planted kisses along your jaw. Slowly, he made it way to your ear and nibbled on it. The hitch of his hips told you he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

“Feel that?” He breathed. “As long as you’re satisfied so am I.” He immediately started sucking on your neck. Making lewd noises that further edged you on. You couldn’t control the way your hips were rolling as you writhed on his lap. His hands came to cup your breasts. He ran teasing fingers over your peaked nipples, and you let out a squeaky moan. Pleased with your reaction, he began turning his attention to your chest.

He looked at you through his long lashes his lips met your sternum. Gently, he nudged the fabric of your teddy so that your nipples were free. Your heart skipped a beat as he slowly and deliberately laved at your left nipple. He maintained eye contact the entire time—knowing what it does to you. He let his lips close around it as he began suckling softly at the sensitive flesh.

“Mmmm ohhhhhh shit.” You moaned with a quiver in your voice. Immediately he sucked hard, making you wetter than you thought possible. His tongue was making lazy circles around your pebbled nipple. He mimicked the motion with his fingers on your other breast. His mouth replaced his fingers, and you were done for. Between the gentle flicking and long pulls, he was making it impossible to control yourself. Your body was starting to go lax from sheer pleasure, and he seemed to realize playtime was over.

He picked you up from his lap and laid you onto the bed. You watches as he stripped down to his boxers. ‘Fuuuuck i wanna taste him,’ you thought, but that glint in his eye told you he had other plans. He covered your body with his own, and placed a chaste kiss to your lips chuckling when you tried to deepen it.

“Ah, ah, ah, baby. I’m in charge of your pleasure now,” he growled. You loved it when he got like this. Wild. Unpredictable. Dominant. He placed the same chaste kisses on each nipple. Your sternum. Your bellybutton. And just above your pussy. He hovered there for a moment. You could feel his hot breath on your covered clit. You closed your eyes and waited for him to give you what you needed. Knowing if you made eye contact it would be too much. You waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing came, Chadwick was still in the same position when you opened your eyes. So close yet not close enough. He chuckled deeply and said “this lingerie is stunning, but it’s time for it to go.”

‘He MUST be crazy,’ you thought. “Chadwick. Boseman. If you don’t give me what I need!” You yelled. He burst out laughing.

“There’s my girl,” he said fondly. He wasted no time getting your teddy off and settling back between your thighs. He held your legs and began pressing kisses to the inside of each thigh. Getting higher and higher up until he was mere inches away from your dripping cunt. Ever the tease, he licked long strokes up either side of where you needed him most.

“Look at me,” he demanded when he’d seen your eyes had fallen shut yet again. You forced your eyes open, and the minute your eyes met his he slid his tongue out to connect with your clit. You couldn’t help the long wanton moan that escaped your lips. He made several kitten licks that sent shivers down your spine, but you both knew it wasn’t enough. He put your legs on his shoulders, parted your lips, and got to work.

He flattened his tongue against your clit and sucked, hard. Causing you to go completely lax and call out his name. He alternated between long licks that spanned your whole pussy to focused attention on your clitoris. He let his tongue slide inside of you and explore your inner walls. You had a feeling he wanted more than one orgasm from you tonight because you were nearing your first one. Your hand clutched the bed sheets when he pulled your hood back and ravished your exposed sex.

He clutched one of your hands, holding it to ground you. His other arm was holding your waist down. He was in total control, and that spiked your arousal. Another hard suck on your clit made your breath hitch. He did it again and you moaned breathily. It was all too much. The dirty, wet noises he was making, his unyielding arm on your waist, his reassuring grip on your hand. He hummed sending vibrations through your sex. Could tell you were close by the constant “uh, oooo, aaaah” your we’re making so he doubled down and sucked like his life depended on it.

“Fuck, fuck, FUUUUUCK. IM COMING. IM COMING OOOOH SHIT. OHMYGOD.” Your vision whited out as an intense wave of pleasure washed over you. He pulled off as you trembled with after shocks. The arm that was holding you down disappeared, which you wouldn’t have noticed until he started toying with your clit again. You jerked away. Surely, he couldn’t want another out of you so soon. But he was relentless.

“Baby BABY i caaaaan’t,” You whimpered.

“I don’t remember telling you we were done yet. I think you still owe me a couple more. How about one for each month i was away?” His tone was dark and predatory. This wasn’t up for negotiation. The fingers that were playing with your clit were now prodding at your entrance.

“Fuuuuck baby you’re so wet. I can’t wait to get in there.” He breathed.

He easily slid in two of his long fingers and you cried out from pleasure. Once inside of you, he curled his fingers and searched around until he found your g-spot.

“CHADWICK. FUCK. PLEASE. PLEASE.” You didn’t know what you were begging for but that didn’t stop you.

“Remember, no running. if you run, you’ll get punished” he warned. He knew you had a tendency to squirm away when you were approaching another orgasm. He loved watching your hips try to wiggle away from the intense pleasure, and he was obsessed with how well you took your punishments. He dove down and devoured your clit again. You screamed as your eyes rolled back into your head. He moved with urgency this time around, trying to force this orgasm out as quickly as possible. He continued to massage your g-spot while he made out with your clit. It was too much too soon.

“C-chad. Uhf oooh oh my god aaaaAHHHH.” Your toes started to curl and your legs were shaking. “Please! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE OH FUCK.” You couldn’t help it. Your hips started to squirm away. He followed you. One of your hands went to his head. The other, still entangle with Chadwick. Still grounding you. Still letting you know how much he loves you. At that thought, you let go. “AAAAAHHH SHIT CHAD. ILOVE YOU I LOVEYOU. fuCK.”

A lazy smile took over his face when he finished.

“That’s two,” he said, “we’re almost there.” He came up and pressed a kiss to your lips. You grabbed his face with both hands and licked your juices off of him. The two of you kissed while your body was coming down. Chadwick pulled back.

“I love you too baby, but you tried to run and you know what that means.” Before you could process what he said, he slapped your clit HARD three times.

“CHAD. FUCK.” Your legs shook. He held your face in his larger hands, and said “that’s it baby you’re doing so good for me.” Something inside you lit up, and gave you a third wind.

“I’m ready for my last one,” you whispered. You don’t remember how or when Chad took his boxers off, but you’re oh so thankful he did. His beautiful, lithe, form hovered over yours. He aligned is dick with your entrance and pushed in. He went slowly so you could feel every inch.

“Fuck baby i forgot how big you were,” you moaned. You felt his dick jump inside of you. You looked up and his eyes were screwed shut. You saw how hard he was straining to maintain his resolve. You decided to give him a taste of his own medicine by doing a kegel. He gasped and stared down to you. So you did it again of course. He let out a longer moan and managed to look so scandalized.

“What?” You feigned innocence. He laughed and said “wow, I’m so in love with you.”

He started corkscrewing his hips. Digging you out. This wasn’t fucking. This was coming home. This was making love. Your bodies rolled together like a tide. You moved as one. You wrapped your legs around his waist to give him better access. He obliged by sliding in feelings. You hitched your hips up to meet his thrusts, loving the stunted moan he let out every time. He was deep inside of you. Scratching the itch you’d been ignoring for months now.

“Mmmmm ooooh shiiiiiiit” he moaned right next to your ear. “Babe, it’s time for you to come one more time.” He shifted his hips so that his pelvis grinned against your poor, abused clit. That coupled with his increasingly shortened, staccatoed thrusts began the tingling in your lower abdomen. He grabbed your hands, held them, and raised them above your heads. You felt so safe, secure, and loved. He kissed you, slow and deliberate. You moaned against his mouth. You felt yourself tighten around his length. “Ooooooh” you moaned.

“Shit,” he said under his breath. His hips lost their rhythm and he began thrusting wildly, seeking his pleasure. Together you came with the other’s name on your lips.

You passed out immediately after, which made Chadwick smile. He cleaned you up and wrapped you up in his arms. ‘I’m so glad to be home,’ was the last thing he thought before he too, drifted off.

[kaogakowai-blog]

002. Kiss their cheek

                                    killin’ me softly (soft touch meme) || accepting

“ And, I was going to see if I could create a jutsu that would make this movement permanent. Otherwise, I’ll have to recre– ”His eyes widened a fraction when, to his left, a face came level with his and hot breath was exhaled against his cheek before wet lips touched him. His initial, visceral reaction was the hairs on his body standing on end. Then, he reached up to grab the jaw of the man who was now nuzzling up to his side. Sai blinked twice before quickly turning his head, gaze meeting the taller man’s. They locked eyes for what felt like forever until Sai’s brow furrowed, breaking the intensity of the stare. The following question was earnestly curious.“ Why did you do that? ”“ Because– ”They were standing in the middle of a room Sai had been in the midst of decorating, when he’d called Brett away from the newest litter of kittens to come look at the work he’d done thus far. The paint job was exquisite, to be sure, but Sai had wanted it to be special. Personal.Brett smiled at him and his stomach felt odd. He decided that that was reason enough to lean closer, since Brett was already bent at the knee to be nearer to his eye level.

“ You’re s-- ”But then, the former ANBU’s ears pricked at the sound of small, bare feet running down the hall. He heard a distinctive giggling. Brett, he knew, had heard it too. “ …Inojin and Kichirou are never going to shut up about this. You know that, right? ”

[fandomflail]

title: swann.

rating: t

summary: everything does not go to crap at the reception, CS gets a honeymoon and some downtime, and Liam Jones II drops by a visit because there’s something Killian needs to know.

“Killian?” Emma’s voice rings out clearly through the house, her tone reminding him of the time she’d found the little calico kitten on his ship.

“Aye, love?” he answers, stuffing the last of his folded laundry into the chest of drawers before heading downstairs.

She doesn’t say anything until he’s bounding down the steps, though her reason for summoning him is apparent. Still, she says, “Your brother is here.”

She’s in the process of disengaging from the hug from Liam, who is grinning with a slight blush on his cheeks.

“How are you, brother?” he greets, engulfing his little brother in a hug of his own.

“I’ve been keeping well. It’s good to see you both, I’m truly sorry to have missed the wedding.”

“Aye, I imagine communication is difficult 20,000 leagues under the sea. Perhaps you would do well with a talking phone of your own?”

Liam and Emma both chuckle, as though his suggestion is funny.

“Babe, I don’t think they work that far under sea,” Emma says, before he can express his indignation.

“Ah. Those devices aren’t so clever after all, eh Swan?”

“That’s not what you said when you discovered the video function,” his wife reminds him blithely, making Liam guffaw and Killian’s face to burn bright because they all know exactly what she means.

“You know, we haven’t spent much time together Emma, I think we should rectify that immediately; you’re a hoot.”

“Oh shut up,” he says reflexively, aware of how childlike he sounds even as the words leave his mouth.

“You big baby,” Emma says, smacking him on the shoulder as she pulls Liam into the living room. “What’s with the box?”

Killian’s gaze narrows to where a small wooden box is clutched in his brother’s hand, no bigger than a notebook. Liam chuckles nervously as Emma settles beside him, her left hand automatically entwining with his right, making their wedding rings bump. Truly, it is the small things that gives him joy.

“Aye,” his brother says, raising his eyes to meet Killian’s directly. “I... um, Killian... how well did you know your mother?”

Killian can honestly say, out of all the things he expected, the question is so far from the reach of possibilities that he just gapes.

“Come again?”

“Your mother,” Liam repeats, eyes glancing at Emma quickly for support, before meeting his own. “How, I mean, do you remember her?”

Killian blinks, clearing his throat as Emma rests her head on his shoulder in a show of support. He’s spoken a little of the woman who raised him, who taught him good form, who sang to him, but truth be spoken, he remembers not her face nor her voice. The only thing he knows for certain is that his eyes are hers.

“Barely,” he admits, unsure what she has to do with the man in front of him. After all, they share a father, not a mother.

“What was her name?”

“Liza,” he answers, because that at least he knows. His father had often called her Love, and for years, Killian had thought that her name. It wasn’t until they’d been slaves on a ship with little to live for that Killian had thought to ask Liam Senior.

“It was Elizabeth, actually. Elizabeth Swann.”

“Pardon?”

“Aye. Elizabeth Swann, that’s double n Swann.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Emma exclaims, disbelief coloring her features as she looks between Killian and Liam.

Before he can comment, Emma says, “You mean to tell me your mom was Elizabeth Swan, the Pirate King?”

“The WHAT?”

“Wouldn’t that make Brennan Jones Will Turner, though?” she asks, and it’s then his brain catches the enormity of her words. She’s talking about the Jack Sparrow movies.

“I…lad, are you sure?”

“Aye, I came here to give you this.”

Liam gingerly pushes the box across the table, looking at him in pity. “I should leave you to it, but there’s a few things you need to know. Our father was not her first love, it was, as Emma said, a William Turner. Who freed his father, Bill, from our great grandfather, David Jones. As in Davy Jones. As in Captain of the infamous Flying Dutchman.”

“Isn’t Davy Jones immortal?”

“No one has ever seen the Flying Dutchman,” Killian murmurs to his wife, the implications of Liam’s tale numbing his consciousness as though a winter’s fog has settled upon it.

“No, they haven’t. Everyone’s heard tales. There’s more: any man or woman who shares the bloodline of Davy Jones is said to be protected at sea, which honestly explains a lot, but is also said to be hunted the Goddess Calypso, because he was, if you mind the expression, the one who got away after he took immortality from her.”

“That would explain your ‘I’m a survivor’ shtick,” Emma says, eyes wide with disbelief. Killian feels much of the same. It’s a lot to take in, even if gods hunting mortals is not a new sport.

Then, as if realizing what it means to be hunted by a goddess, Emma sits up straighter, looking at him, “Hold on, hunted? Like, seducing? As in what, exactly?”

Killian’s eyes meet Liam in a moment of panic, before he sighs. “What it means love, is gods and goddess make it a… sport, of hunting mortals down, bedding them and what not.”

“You’ve slept with Calypso?” Emma’s voice is an octave higher, much like when she’s been told Henry hasn’t completed his homework yet wants to go out with Violet.

“Not that I know of,” he answers honestly, eyebrow raised at Liam.

“Oh, you’d know. I don’t imagine a goddess would be subtle about anything.”

“True,” Killian concurs. Every one of them has been a little dramatic or cryptic, Zeus included.

Then as it occurs, his face breaks out into a salacious grin. “It looks like I’ve always been a Swan after all, eh Swan?”

He’s sure he sees his brother roll his eyes, even as he interrupts Killian’s moment, as siblings do. 

“In any case, us being related to Davy Jones is sort of why your mother is important. There was some prophecy, about the first Pirate-King Queen, a flightless bird who would bring two feuding lines together. I’m not sure how exactly, I have no idea if the prophecy has somehow been fulfilled, considering she’s from another realm, but I think it means you.”

“Why not you?” Emma asks, her hand gripping his tighter. He understands her fear; it’s the same he feels every time someone mentions her Savior prophecy.

Liam reaches over to the box that Killian has not touched, looking up for permission. With a nod, Killian allows him. Liam gently unclasps the box, pulling out a pirate pendant with an image of a swan in the middle, handing it to him. It is heavy, made from pure gold with the swan engraved deep and bold. He knows, without actually knowing, that it belonged to his mother.

Liam pulls out a piece of scroll, handling it delicately, the writing slanted and elegant. He begins to read,

“Her clothes billow, breeches like that a man

Pirate-King Queen and leader of the gang

Who will go down with the ship and hang

Rather than play into their hands

And yet despite her defiance and her fire

Fate steps in and she retires

Go down blue eyes, go down

Two sons born from a father

Who loves her but knows her other

True love is where her heart lies

The boy with the sea in his eyes

My darling son come home from sea

Whose blood makes the goddess rest easy”

“That’s… vaguely threatening,” Emma says, but Killian barely hears it. He knows those verses, he knows the rhyme it goes with. He’s sung it in melancholy, remembers the woman who taught it to him on her knee, as she brushed his hair and told her how much she loved her little boy.

“Killian?”

He blinks, looking into the worried eyes of his wife.

“Here,” he says, pushing the pendant into her hand.

“I- oh! This has magic!”

“What?”

“Yeah, no, this is definitely magical. It doesn’t feel… bad. Like a warm breeze, or that warm feeling you get when you drink hot cocoa on a cold night. Still, is it okay if I hold on to this and get Regina to double check it?”

His reaction is visceral and instantaneous, as is Liam’s. “No!” they say in unison, eyes meeting in surprise and approval, before he explains, “No, Swan, I don’t want Regina near my mother’s things. Ask her how to check, and do it yourself, please. I trust you.” The not her is not said, but he knows it is clearly heard.

She brushes her palm gently against his jaw, her eyes soft. “Just me, then.” Emma leans forward, brushing a gentle and lingering kiss on his cheek before rising. “I’m going to get you something to drink. Liam, would you like juice or water? Or something stronger?”

“Juice, please.”

Killian’s tempted to ask for something stronger, but stays himself. “I’d like some tea, love.”

“Oh, me too, that’d be great,” Liam says, amending his request. A wave of longing passes through him then, an old, fond memory of Liam the first resorting to tea for all his worries, a drink to soothe and one that harked back to their childhood. They’re not the same, one brother cannot be interchanged for another, but it comforts him all the same.

“You should visit more often,” he says.

“What?” Liam asks, clearly surprised.

“You should visit more often,” Killian repeats, “you’re family, Henry should know his uncle. I would like to know my brother. I make the best fish you’ll ever taste, and Emma has an impressive repertoire of breakfast foods. When she decides to forgo the sugary pre-packaged nonsense, of course” he says, raising the voice at the last bit as she walks back into the room with their drinks and a raised eyebrow that indicates she’s heard him.

“Yeah, sure buddy, no more pancakes for you.”

“Now, now, Swan, let’s not be hasty. I’m just being mindful of your teeth and general health.”

“Uhuh.”

Liam cuts through their banter with a laugh, a bright smile on his face as he says, “I’d love to. I’d have to check what the Nautilus’s schedule is like, but I would love to.” He clears his throat, eyeing the box. “But uh, what about this prophecy thing?”

“Bugger it,” Killian says, “I’ve been sailing for centuries, and no goddess has come to claim me. And if she tried now, well, my wife can get rather…jealous.”

“Excuse me, I do not get jealous. I just…don’t share well.”

“Whatever you say, love.”

“In any case Liam, many prophecies are self-fulfilling. I do not intend to die for… what is it, the third time, anytime soon.”

Liam exhales, as if the knowledge has been a burden on his shoulders and had now been let go. “Good. There’s a bunch of letters and drawings and things in the box. I think they belong to your mother, so you should have it.”

“Thank you,” Killian says sincerely, “it means a lot.”

“Sure. You’re welcome. So��Emma, tell me about how you two met.”

Maybe he’ll have an existential crisis later. But for now, with his brother here and his wife in his arms, he thinks the family of the present supersedes his past.