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ochrearia · 10 months ago

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Little Lullabies

Holy shit why is this 4k words long what the fuck is wrong with me (I know why it's literally just a compilation of 8 ~500 word drabbles put into one post because they're all kind of connected) HEY YOU GUYS LIKE HURT/COMFORT?

BFs in this One-Shot: PoPr!BF (Biff, mine), cs!BF (Beefer, mine), wyd!BF (Beef, Karl's), fc!BF (Boyf, Keyy's), Cyborg!BF (Cyber, Keyy's), sfa!BF (Peacock, Shed's), S2!BF (Bee, Isaac's), Candy!BF (Blue, Slushgut's), Yourself (YS)

It was a little funny how Biff was more likely to go over to YS’s place than the other way around these days. At the start it wasn’t even possible for him to do that, so it made it seem like the smaller was making up for lost time every time he mirror-walked over.

This was not one of those days, though.

YS was proving to be a hypocrite. Just a little bit. He’d made Biff promise not to take on his bad emotions and feelings anymore after the one time. But now as he was sitting here, Biff pitifully laid across his chest, he really wanted to take a page out of his book and take his suffering away. Would that even work with how it was? He didn’t know, didn’t stop him from wanting to.

Biff was sick. Most likely nothing left in his stomach, everything having been emptied into the toilet earlier. Cherry was stuck at her parents’ for the weekend, and Pico had gone out to get a few things for the poor guy. YS was here to make sure Biff wasn’t alone as per his Pico’s request. The ginger had refused to leave the apartment otherwise. YS could have been the one to go out and let him stay with his boyfriend, but it wasn’t his world, he didn’t know where basic stores were. And by the time he’d realized he could just go back to his own to buy things, Biff had already gotten surgically attached to him.

“Pico should be back soon, little man.” YS said softly, a hand rubbing gently across Biff’s back. The small, in-pain whines he was hearing from the other was making him more upset than he needed to admit. “The worst of it should be over, you’ll start feeling better soon.”

“Stomach hurts.” Biff complained softly, his energy having been drained a while ago. “Trying to sleep, keep jolting… Can’t fall asleep fast enough.”

Well that wouldn’t do.

YS sighed, slightly frustrated that he couldn’t do more. He gently pulled Biff a little farther up into his arms, not wanting to aggravate his stomach more than it already was. It was easy to curl around his other selves when he was the tallest of them all. Regardless of his hesitations about his voice when it came to humming things, YS pushed that aside and let himself bring a bit of a lullaby into the air.

It was one he’d hummed to Biff before. Not the more music-box version of his own song, he’d only used that once and decided to take up a different to-go instead after. Personalized comfort, a song just for him when he needed it. It always worked, thankfully. YS could feel him sag further into his hold, the pained breaths becoming slower and more deep as he continued.

His Pico would be back soon, and Biff would probably need to be awake again to take some medicine and other things, whatever the hitman was getting. But YS saw no harm in leading him to doze off for a little. He needed the rest.

______________________________________________

Hot ball of hollow fire you are. YS thought to himself, slightly amused. It was rather interesting how quickly Beef had gone from being the equivalent of an angry rat backed up into a corner around him to completely okay and willing to be close. He was still surprised the other had the courage to go up to him and ask directly to be a little brother too. Not at all what he’d expected from Beef of all of the instances.

It was more than okay with him, though. Meant YS could do more to help, and be more efficient with it too.

It also made him happy that all of them along the line wanted to be his little brother but that wasn’t the point.

Beef had gotten overly-angry at something as far as YS could tell, and had come here as a way to cool off and remove himself from the situation. It wasn’t an argument with his partners according to him, which was good. But he was still adamantly refusing to say what he even got mad about. A little concerning, but he couldn’t force it. If they wanted to trust him then they would. It’s not like he could be talking, considering just how much he was hiding from all of them.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? Not even a little?” YS tried again, immediately going back on what he’d just thought. Just one more try.

“No.” Beef grumbled, shoving his face further into YS’s shoulder. “No talking. I don’t pay you to talk. Just want a hug.”

YS grinned, rolling his eyes as he let his arms encircle tighter around the other. Hug? Yeah, he could do that. Apparently he was really good at it. His best skill some would say, which was hilarious, but a nice feeling. Beef was hesitant in his endeavors asking for affection, so him being so direct about it was enough to earn him exactly what he wanted.

I wonder… YS thought, letting his mind wander a little into his own memories. Personalized comfort was always nice to have. There wasn’t much to be changed about a hug, not that any of them seemed to want it to change. But there was another thing he could do. Picking out a different one from his thoughts this time, he began to hum. Not the same melody he had for Biff, no. A different one picked specifically for Beef when he would need it.

Gotcha, you little shitter. YS thought mischievously when his humming coaxed Beef to all but melt into his embrace. Good to know that what worked on one would work on the rest in terms of offering comfort. Choosing a different tune for each would be a fun little game. You think you’re so smug having blackmail on me, don’t you? Now we’re even. But that’s a story for another time, I think. You’re safe to cool off here for as long as you need it.

______________________________________________

Boyf proved harder to completely curl around when he needed comfort. His fault for deciding to be a tall instance really, without the power to shapeshift. Didn’t stop him from being an oversized baby sometimes. Realistically, they kind of all were. But dammit, couldn’t this guy at least be a little shorter so he could be good at his hugging job? One of the apparent good parts of YS’s hugs was how he was able to completely surround them.

Boyf had a nightmare, apparently. He was getting nightmares often as of late. Why he’d come to YS in search of comfort compared to his partners was beyond him really, but he was here. And then he’d had the gall to look almost offended by the fact the taller had been awake at this god-forsaken hour. YS didn’t really sleep that much, they had to have figured that out by now.

The song YS had chosen as his to-go for Boyf was a little different. Somewhere along the line he’d gone searching for songs that weren’t exactly upbeat or uplifting to begin with, and he was using those to pick from and spin into comforting sounds instead. He wasn’t entirely sure if this one was working, though, because Boyf seemed to be grabbing tighter to his hoodie the more he hummed, and he really couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad emotional response.

“You okay?” YS asked gently, pausing his humming. He got a noise of complaint in response.

“Why’d you stop, don’t stop.” Boyf’s thoughts echoed in his head. “Keep going… please keep going. Miss my sister, she used to sing to me when I was upset…”

Ah. Good emotional response, then, entirely by accident. Boyf hadn’t done much to speak about his siblings aside from the fact he had them. YS knew his brother was Ritz, younger brother. And somehow it was a common theme across multiple universes that Hatsune Miku-- Yes, THAT Hatsune Miku-- was a sister. Kind of hysterical to think about, but he supposed weirder things had happened.

YS picked up where he left off, deciding that this song was a keeper. This would be the go-to for Boyf. He was still running with the personalized comfort idea, because the more he thought about it, the more he realized the things he was willing to do for them were things he’d wish he had someone do for him. It’s not like he’d tell them he had personalized lullaby choices for each of them though. They didn’t need to know all things considered. That would ruin his already fragmented facade.

“Keep going…” Boyf’s thoughts repeated as he snuggled further into YS’s arms. “Might fall back asleep here…”

YS sighed gently, bringing a hand up to scratch softly in Boyf’s hair. Such was his fate, getting stuck under another one of his selves. Well, it’s not like he was doing anything important anyway. Staring despondent at the ceiling isn’t so despondent when you had someone and their warmth to keep you company.

______________________________________________

YS knew that there was never going to be a time where you’d just be fully fine with severe changes to your body. He knew that very well, because most times he could be fine by not thinking about it but there would be other times where it would eat him alive. Beefer was no exception to this rule, but he kind of wished that he’d be that lucky. He wasn’t of course. There wasn’t much he could do about it other than just be there for the Dinaurian.

Beefer was hiding his face adamantly against YS’s chest. His eyes were closed, because he didn’t want to see. Didn’t want to see the tail, the overly pale white of his skin, didn’t want to see the elongated ears and claws, didn’t want to see himself. Changing species against your will wasn’t something YS had any experience with, but he assumed it was a special kind of hell to deal with.

“I’m grateful to be alive.” Beefer mumbled against the fabric of his big brother’s hoodie, almost like he was trying to… distract himself? Convince himself? “I’m grateful to be alive and that will never change. I just wish… it hadn’t been this way. Or that I didn't have to feel so gross about it.”

“I’m glad you’re alive too.” YS said carefully, unsure how to tread on this. “And I’m sure your Cherry and Pico are too. I wish I could say how to not hate it, seeing features that you never used to have. But I don’t know.”

“I know you don’t.” Beefer sighed. “I can’t expect you to. I just… wanted some comfort without judgment. Not that they would do that, probably, I don’t know. I don’t need to be giving them any more problems than we already have. They’re getting suspicious on why I disappear for so long randomly too. I can’t explain all this, not now, I don’t even know where I would begin…”

“You don’t have to.” YS placated quickly, letting his arms wrap around the Dinaurian softly. “Don’t worry about any of that shit here. If you need an escape then that’s what you’ll get. Try not to get yourself too in over your head with the secrets, though, okay?”

Beefer nodded, too tired now to respond. YS tilted his head with a sigh, knowing that this was sadly the best he could do. With the short conversation over, he put into practice his little plan again. Another lullaby came tumbling gruffly from his throat, this one being more of a proper lullaby compared to the rest. If nothing else, he could offer this to the smaller one.

At least it was doing something, though. Every time his target of comfort relaxed or snuggled closer, YS took relief in knowing he was at least doing something. Beefer would have to go back to his world soon to make sure his friends didn’t completely freak out about his absence, but for now he was free to stay and forget his problems.

______________________________________________

Compared to some of the others, YS hadn’t actually seen Peacock get genuinely upset about something much at all. Suppose that was a positive side to not caring much at all about most things, it made it easier to roll with sudden changes and unfavorable results to things. Sometimes not caring so much was a good thing, but YS couldn’t stomach the idea of doing that. God knows he cared almost too much. But that was him. He was actually a little lost for words on how he could make this better.

Peacock was more insistent to try and help YS with his problems despite being tight-lipped about them. So the fact he’d come through the mirror today looking like the world was ending, that was enough to freak the angel out a little. The hug and humming combo immediately jumped to his mind, and Peacock wasn’t complaining. So, hug it was.

It was thoughts about his Pico again. The ginger being so hesitant and cut off was bothering him. He didn’t understand why he was doing it again, running off on him when all he wanted was to have Pico back in his life and not have to worry about him disappearing again. Peacock wanted him there, but with the way the other was acting, it didn’t seem like that sentiment was a shared one. That would hurt anyone to figure out.

“He’s… being an idiot.” YS decided, resting his chin on the top of Peacock’s head. “I don’t know what his deal is. I don’t really know how to help, either. But you should at least know you don’t deserve this nonsense.”

“I just want him around.” Peacock grumbled softly, returning the other’s hug eagerly. “He doesn’t listen to me when I say that. Always rushing off and making excuses. Fuck, I was so happy when I ran into him again. Now it’s like I’m watching him pull away more and more each time he accidentally gets in my line of sight.”

Hopefully this idiot will stop doing that and come around or I swear I’ll go over there myself. YS thought. His ability to mirror-walk was still locked behind needing the rest to look at a mirror, or at least accidentally be reflected in something for him to get through. He was sure that would happen eventually, and YS could go on a hunt for this idiotic hitman. Though he was unsure if Peacock would want that.

There wasn’t much else he could really say to help, so now seemed like a good time to practice the humming part of his hug-hum combo. Another instance, another personally picked tune. If anyone was going to get the song that felt like flying above the clouds, it would be him. Angels could sense other angels. Peacock had always kept his wings out of sight whenever YS saw him around, but he knew he had to at least have them still. The sky was still a comfort they could both agree on. Maybe he hugged a little tighter to the other too.

______________________________________________

Crying wasn’t allowed. YS already didn’t like crying when it was himself doing the crying, it made him feel stupid and ridiculous. An outward showing of his own turmoils that he hated letting other people know he even had. But when it was any of his other selves crying instead, somehow it made him feel even worse. It was like watching himself fall apart and knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening.

Well, almost nothing.

He wasn’t sure which was worse, the fact that Bee was leaking silent tears while hugged to his chest, something that reminded him of himself and he hated the idea of any of them being like him, or the other possibility he could have gone with which was loud and unstoppable sobs. He’d prefer there to be no tears at all really. YS wasn’t entirely sure what exactly was wrong, if this had been caused by an action or words said, but anything that made his little brothers cry was bullshit and not allowed. God, they were turning him into such a dedicated protector, what was happening to him?

“Hey.” YS started softly, trying to capture Bee’s attention enough to get him to look up at him. “Come on now. I don’t know what’s going on, and I obviously won’t unless you want to tell me. But I can’t let you leave my apartment before you dry those tears.”

Bee just kept looking at him, unsure what to say. He knew what the problem was and even now with YS showing clear care for him his head was telling him it wasn’t deserved. I can’t believe I manipulated him into caring about me. “I just want to feel like I’m okay.”

A simple request and yet it wasn’t anything YS could fulfill for certain. He frowned slightly, offering Bee a sympathetic look as well as he could for how his face looked. “Not gonna let you leave until those tears dry.” He repeated. “I can’t do much other than remind you you’re wanted here.”

Bee buried his face back against YS at that, conflicting thoughts at war in his head. Face covered, he was slightly surprised when he heard YS start humming something. He’d heard the other sing before, he had a strong and commanding voice but it was nowhere to be found here. Gruff still, sure, but soft and comforting in a way he hadn’t heard before. A lullaby, for him? Soft and dragged out notes, no lyrics to be heard, just a melody.

As much as Bee felt like he didn’t deserve it, didn’t belong with any of them, he couldn’t stop the deep breath the sudden comfort drew from him. This was nice. Did he maybe deserve it after all?

“There you are, little man.” YS spoke between his hums, using the silly nickname he’d started using with Biff first. There were only so many variations he could say, after all. “You’re alright. Stay for as long as you need.”

______________________________________________

“Dude, be serious, you look like you’re about to pass out any second now.”

YS wasn’t even sure that Blue even had any problems to speak of. The dude was always overly happy and excited for basically everything, every time he’d come around to hang out was met with eyes full of wonder and an air of sunshine around him. But at the same time he came off as utterly clueless at best and straight up stupid at worst. To be fair, they were all stupid, but like, come on. Was this a persona he was putting up or was he genuinely just this excited and happy about everything? Maybe he was too air-headed to even tell he had problems.

It somehow didn’t seem like the dude even knew he wasn’t human as well. How do you go through life not knowing what you are? How do you just not know you’re an angel, has he just never looked in the mirror and seen literal wings and a halo?

“Noooo, no I’m fine!” Blue responded, clearly not fine. He looked just about ready to take the best afternoon nap of his life, but for some reason was stubbornly keeping his eyes open to stay watching shitty reality TV with his big brother. “I can stay awake, I don’t want to ruin my sleep schedule!”

“Dude.” YS snorted a laugh, shaking his head. “It’s not worth it to stay awake watching this shit. Nothing I have is good and you don’t have to pretend like I have anything exciting to offer.”

The words were met with a pout. YS rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around him and guiding him into a hug. He’d already been heavily leaning into the taller’s shoulder and he put up no resistance. YS folded one hand into his hair and the other left comfortably on his back. “Take a nap, idiot. You’re clearly not going to last until your bedtime.”

“Bedtime? I’m not a five year old.” Blue fired back.

“Sure are acting like one right now.” YS teased, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Insisting on staying up because your big brother’s still up too? Very child-like behavior.”

It was fine, he was getting good at it now. Having all these times where his other selves came seeking comfort, and giving it all to them in the form of a hug paired with a lullaby. Blue didn’t necessarily need comfort in this scenario, but it wouldn’t hurt for YS to pick out a personalized melody for him too, just in case. Settling on another one he remembered hearing once, the tune rumbled from his throat while he let his hand massage into the other’s scalp.

“No fair…” Blue whined, already starting to lose the battle with his heavy eyelids. “Lullabies are cheating…”

“You’ll thank me later.” YS said in reply, a smug look on his face as the angel’s eyes slipped closed, body completely leaning into his own. Yeah, he was getting good at this.

Maybe he was proud about that.

______________________________________________

Maybe this time it was an instance where neither of them were okay. YS didn’t know how to handle this at all, looking at him made him want to tear his hair out and curse out whatever shitty excuse of a god was out there that let this happen. He knew he’d fallen into contact with this version far too early in the timeline, but he had been doomed to stay the moment he caught sight of him. Cyber. Another him, only 14 years old and possibly having the worst ending he’d seen yet. It wasn’t fair.

Cyber had died. He came from a world where the events at the school so many of the other instances of him experienced had gone wrong. They’d lost. The world was on the brink of ending and it was up to these kids to fix it. They’re just kids, how was that fair, it wasn’t fair, this wasn’t right. He’d died, only to be brought back as a fucked up science experiment by the aliens who’d attacked the school in the first place. A cyborg puppet meant to be used for destruction and conquering.

YS had found him locked in a shed with a dusty old mirror.

He couldn’t blame Cyber’s Pico fully. That Pico was also only 14, and what else was a kid supposed to do when they knew their dead boyfriend was dangerous, yet didn’t have the heart to let him go? Just kids, left to deal with all of this mess, this trauma. How was YS supposed to leave and wait for the timeline to advance to where they were the same age after seeing this?

He didn’t.

Cyber didn’t speak much to him, or at all really. The only thing YS had to go off of was the fact he wasn’t trying to attack him. Actually, the poor kid seemed to get attached to him rather quickly. His Pico had been slowly unlocking the human still left in him, and that part was fighting off the robotic programming. Slowly but surely, and the progress was far from linear. Sometimes it was all he could do to just not be violent, stay silent and huddle against the older for comfort. YS could do that. He could give comfort, because he was learning really fast he was entirely in over his head with some of his other selves. How was he supposed to fix this?

It was easy to completely curl around Cyber in a hug. Still small, he was supposed to be still growing at this point- would he even still get to? The lullaby he’d picked for the younger was repeating in his throat over and over, and for once it wasn’t as strong as he wanted it to be. His voice shook slightly, catching on itself the more YS thought about how fucking sad this situation was.

He was good at comforting the rest. That’s what he did.

But who, YS thought bitterly, who would be left to comfort him?

#RGBFverse #Big chunky writing for everyone #Cyber's here now we have overthrown Keyy /silly #Poor YS at the end though. He didn't plan for getting overwhelmed himself...#Playlist linked at the end <3

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dad-of-the-wild-east · 2 months ago

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You've got mail! - The Golden Flower Celebration

Yes, The Golden Flower Celebration is a day of mourning for the Royal Children.

Or, shall I say, was.

I remember it so fondly, Buttercups and Sourgrass, Poppies and Yellow Roses, tapestries and dances, plays and music, all in hopes to keep their memories alive, a day of warmth, to be childish.

To remember their names.

Sometimes I think I could hear them both, singing along to the ol' Once Upon a Time lullaby...

Ah, don't let me be ranting about all that, the last bits probably just this little goofs imagination.

-CS

#ask blog #undertale yellow #underblog💛#uty starlo #stray star au #anonymous

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 1 year ago

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Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x9 Save Henry

Summary: A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time. There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season. Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 843

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Note: It had been my plan to keep at least 3a thoroughly CS focused in these drabbles, with the POV changing from episode to episode between Killian and Emma (this episode was meant to be a Killian episode), but after watching this episode, the big sister/aunt/godmother in me, who has been around and helped care for babies all my life, absolutely had to step in and have someone give first-time mom Regina a little advice about how to handle a crying newborn. (disclaimer: I’m not a mother, so I’m well aware I can’t possibly know the full extent of what it means to be a parent, and I’m not in any way trying to lecture or Monday morning quarterback anyone about parenting, but I am affectionately known as “the baby whisperer” among my family, so I’ve got to be doing something right, right?)

Regina was at her wits end. Everyone said parenting a newborn was hard. Everyone said the lack of sleep would be difficult.

No one told her it would be like this. She was so tired she felt like she was perpetually walking around in a fog. She did everything she could for Henry–fed him, changed him, held him, rocked him, even tried singing lullabies to him, but nothing worked. Nothing stopped the relentless crying.

Finally, desperately clawing for something, anything, that could help her, she’d brought her baby to Dr. Whale, sure that there had to be a physical reason for it all.

But he told her Henry was perfectly healthy (before scaring her to death by mentioning the possibility of genetic issues that she had no (legal) way of determining.)

Clutching at that last straw, she’d decided to call Sidney and have him dig into Henry’s sealed adoption records, and to get a moment of peace to do so, she’d handed her baby off to Mary Margaret.

The last thing she’d expected when she turned back around was to find her baby quiet and peacefully cooing up at the school teacher.

Regina’s heart dropped even lower. What if it wasn’t a physical or genetic problem? What if it was…

”How did you do that?” she asked, walking over to her erstwhile nemesis.

”Do what?” Mary Margaret asked absently as she smiled and cooed down at Henry.

“Make him stop crying.”

Mary Margaret shrugged. “I didn’t do anything. He’s so sweet.”

Now was not the time to analyze the ins and outs of why this miracle had occurred. Now was simply the time to enjoy it. Regina took Henry from Mary Margaret.

And he immediately started wailing again.

“Oh no! No, no, NO!”

Mary Margaret fluttered her hands looking distressed. “I’m so sorry! Did I do something?”

A cold, stinging sensation settled deep inside Regina. It wasn’t anything Snow White did. It was her. All her. ”No. No, you didn’t. It’s me.”

“Well, that’s just nonsense,” came the no-nonsense voice of Granny Lucas as she breezed onto the scene. “Here, hand him over. I’ll show you a thing of two.”

While Regina’s first inclination was to stand to her full height and tell the woman she was fully capable of caring for her own son, she realized she really had nothing more to lose. She deflated and passed Henry over to Granny.

The older woman took him, smiled down at him, and then placed him up against her chest, her hand gently but firmly holding his head to her with her other hand under his little bottom. She began to bounce and sway, making little shushing noises.

Henry’s wails faded, and then came to a stop.

“But…how?” Regina asked.

“You don’t raise a daughter and then a granddaughter without picking up a few tricks along the way,” Granny said. “First off, you’ve gotta relax. You’re wound as tight as Leroy when I run out of bacon. Babies…they can feel your tension, so you feel yourself tensing up? Take a couple deep breaths. Let ‘em out. Set him in his crib where he’s safe and step away for a few seconds if you need to. I’m telling you, it’s the key. You relax; he’ll relax.”

“So…just breathe? That’s your solution?” Regina asked, with a sardonic raise of the brow.

“Of course not. That’s just step one,” Granny said. “Next, look at how I’m holding him. Ruby refers to it as the ‘Granny choke hold.’ Don’t look at me like that; I’m not choking your baby! I’m just holding him tight. Babies like to feel secure, and they like to nestle on your chest where they can hear your heart.”

“Breathe and hold securely. Got it,” Regina said, “anything else?”

“Last step,” Granny said, “I like to affectionately call the ‘baby jig’. Just kind of bounce and sway. It’s soothing. Gets tiring after a while, but then usually once you get ‘em calmed down you can generally move to a rocking chair. You wanna try it?”

Did she? Well, she quite literally had nothing left to lose. Regina nodded.

“Good,” Granny said with a nod, “now take that deep breath. That’s it. Now let it out. Feeling relaxed?”

Regina nodded. Granny nodded again and handed Henry over. He began to fuss, annoyed at being moved from his comfortable position, but remembering the steps Granny gave her, Regina carefully maneuvered him up onto her chest.

And then a miracle happened.

Henry not only stopped crying; he actually burrowed into her, sighing contentedly. A warm rush of maternal love washed over her, and she knew she would do anything for this little boy.

Parenting may be the hardest thing she’d ever done, but they would be okay. They were a family.

Note: I learned how to hold babies from watching my own grandmother who liked to walk around holding babies exactly as Granny does here. We always used to jokingly call it the “grandma choke hold”, but never fear. Like Granny said, there is no choking involved.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#season 3 rewatch drabbles #cs fanfiction #ouat fanfiction #my fanfiction #3x9 save henry #regina mills #mary margaret blanchard #granny lucas #unsolicited--but very much wanted--parenting advice

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sunnyapollonjabrigidotter · 11 months ago

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Ok lets do a thread of at least 3 unusual offerings for hypnos.. any willing? Ofc, i start

1. A nice lullaby, mb one u grew up with

youtube

2. Moon stones, cs moon & night,

3. A comfier bed dedicated to him, would that be a nice offering? Oh, or even a full brand w the name...

now am more curious why some brands named after the gods like Hera Hermes Apollo Hephaestos/Vulcan were called so?? :))

#Youtube

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aashriapps · 2 years ago

Video

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ABC Alphabets | ABCD ABCD | ABC Kids TV | ABC Songs for Children | ABC R...

🔗 Download Now: https://play.google.com/store/apps/dev?id=6047620568157430302 https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.aashriapps.prelearning "A to Z Adventures: Navigating the Alphabet Jungle" "ABC Magic: Unlocking the Secrets of Language" "From A to Zenith: Mastering the Alphabet Journey" "Alphabet Wonders: Exploring the A, B, Cs of Curiosity" "The ABC Chronicles: Tales of Letters and Learning" "Whimsical Words: A Journey Through the Alphabet" "Spellbound Stories: Adventures in Alphabet Land" "ABC Odyssey: A Quest for Knowledge and Letters" "Beyond A, B, C: The Alphabet Unleashed" "Literacy Symphony: Harmonizing with the ABCs" "The Alphabet Explorer's Guide: A to Z and Beyond" "Cursive Dreams and ABC Schemes: Writing Adventures" "Alphabet Alchemy: Crafting Words, One Letter at a Time" "ABC Safari: Tracking the Wild World of Words" "The Letter Quest: Embarking on an ABC Adventure" "Wonders of the Written World: A, B, C Edition" "Linguistic Lullabies: Sweet Dreams with the Alphabet" "ABC Kaleidoscope: Colors of Language and Learning" "The ABC Diaries: Discoveries in Letters and Language" "Whirlwind of Words: ABCs and Beyond in Learning" The ABC alphabet, also known as the English alphabet, is the set of letters used in the English language. It consists of 26 letters, each representing a unique sound or combination of sounds. The alphabet is the fundamental building block of written communication in English and serves as the basis for spelling words. Your Queries :- ABC Alphabets ABCD ABCD ABC Kids TV ABC Songs for Children ABC Rhymes ABC Phonic Song a The ABC alphabet is typically divided into two categories: consonants and vowels. Consonants are letters that represent speech sounds produced with a partial or complete obstruction of airflow, such as "b," "c," and "t." Vowels, on the other hand, are letters that represent speech sounds produced with an open vocal tract, such as "a," "e," and "o." Learning the alphabet is one of the foundational skills in early education, and it is often one of the first things children are taught. Knowing the alphabet is essential for literacy and is a precursor to reading and writing. The alphabetical order of the letters is commonly used for organizing and referencing words in dictionaries and other reference materials. Here is the list of the 26 letters in the English alphabet: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Each letter has both an uppercase (capital) and a lowercase form. Uppercase letters are often used at the beginning of sentences and for proper nouns, while lowercase letters are used in regular text. The ABC alphabet has a rich history and has undergone various changes and adaptations over time, but its basic structure has remained a constant foundation for written communication in the English language. #abcalphabetsounds #phonics_song #learningabcd #alphabetsounds #PhonicsForKids #educationalvideos #kidslearning #phonicsfun #alphabetgames #earlyliteracyskills #readingskills #preschooleducationalvideos #parentingtips #childdevelopment #funlearningexperience #aashriapps #interactivelearning #languageskills #readingreadiness #phonicsmastery #teachingkidstopray #learningjourney #alphabetlearningforkids #ABCs #LanguageBasics #literacyskills #earlyeducationgame #spellingpractice #readingskills #WritingFundamentals #englishalphabet #educationaltools #languagedevelopment #childhoodlearning #literacymatters #languagearts #letterrecognition #teachingkidstopray #abc123 #educationalgames #alphabetsoup #languagelearningjourney

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lavenoon · 2 years ago

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How would all boys react to s/o complimenting them and being really happy about/enjoying something he cooked for them? Or bought them something that he knows they would like or like to try?

Same spiel as before, "you" will be used as general "beloved person they care about" in however interpretation tickles your fancy!

All three of them will be happy proud idiots with some varying attempts of being cool about it.

Sun tries very hard to be cool and suave, except. He preens. He always, always preens when you're happy with something he did, he's a sucker for praise and validation, and if you go hard enough he might just slightly sway back and forth on his heels or outright spin his rays! Will be very analytical if you let him - what bits did you like? Taste, texture, ingredients, what spices were good? Anything you'd like him to change? Should he gets more of it, keep a steady supply? It's also another way of getting his excitement out without outright going "I did such a good job", while also making sure next time will be even better!

Moon is a little quieter about it, but that just means you'll get to observe his fluster more easily. May giggle a bit and try to look away, but his stupid wide grin is obvious and he's really happy that you enjoy whatever offering he had! Tying into the other ask - if it's a while into cooking with you, so him actually cooking, maybe trying something on his own for the first time? Please give him the chance for a hug and hiding his face somehow because he'll melt at the slightest indication that you like it and would like more of it. Won't be quite as obvious about it as Sun, but certain snacks will definitely find their way into your pantry more often!

Eclipse in this case is a healthy mix of his brothers, except he can handle his fluster a bit better (i.e. channels it into more excitement and affection rather than feeling the need to hide). So his initial reaction will just be elated! You like it!! He was right in his assumption!! He made something good!! (And didn't burn down the kitchen!!) Prepare for nuzzles and or hugs and or any available holding during all of that. Then follows the analysis - do you want it more often? How often? What's the best part about it, the core he shouldn't change in his experiments? Would you like to cook/ get it with him some time? Please say yes, it'll make his day!

#answer let luce #lulu-lullabies #dcamv #accidentally undercover #they continue being fools fr #food asks for the lulu to wake up to #now to take a walk or to continue alt timeline musings #hmmmmm #we'll see!#need to do some grass touching fr tho its been bounty hunter and cs thoughts for days now #well. and the relearning how to animate gfhdjs #but yes. food. they're very “are you winning son!!” about it lmao

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truefinalboss · 2 years ago

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got this new oc recently and I've already doodled them a bit^_^ i am still trying to decide on their name... (they originally designed by prismbattery on toyhouse, and their full reference can be seen here!) so i figured I'd ask for opinions...!

#art #oc #closed species #mignyan #cs #lyre/harmony/daydream/lullaby

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cosette141 · 3 years ago

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Lullaby (OUAT fanfic) | oneshot

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Pairing: Captain Swan

Author: cosette141

Words: 3k

Summary: Emma is cursed with a Wakeful Curse, and needs True Love's Kiss to save her life. When Killian tries, and the kiss doesn't work, all hope seems lost. Or is it? CS (True Love story, s3B canon divergence-ish) oneshot

Read on AO3

a/n: This is set during s3B, but doesn’t follow canon much. Don’t worry too much about the plot that brought them here, because I didn’t. xD

It just had to be a Wakeful Curse, didn't it?

Killian was out of breath, lungs burning, chest tight as he ran.

Zelena had wanted Emma out of the way, but couldn't kill her, for whatever reason. So, instead, the witch decided to curse her, and send her somewhere she coined where no one loves you, and no one can save you, so you understand what it's like to be me, and pushed Emma through a portal back to the Enchanted Forest. Killian had barely made it to her in time to jump into the portal as well.

And the bloody witch had been right about her threat, because they might be in the Enchanted Forest, but they were in the bloody middle of nowhere, nothing but trees and trees and trees, not even a person or a hut to be found, not even after over a day of searching. Emma hasn't slept in over forty hours, and Killian had only allowed himself four, falling asleep in exhaustion riddled with nightmares, of losing her before he even got her.

And all he could think above his panic as he ran back to her, his heart constricted because he'd left to find help and there was no help to find, was the moment they had gotten here, the moment all of his hopes and his only desire ever since he'd bloody fallen in love with her, had died.

They landed hard on the forest floor, and Killian coughed hard, immediately getting himself off the ground, to her.

She was lifting herself painfully up, and he helped her, holding her even after she was on her feet, keeping her steady, keeping him steady. "Love," he gasped. "Are you… are you all right?"

"I don't know," she whispered.

Zelena had hit her with the curse, a Wakeful Curse, she'd called it, because she'd needed Emma dead, not asleep, the moment before sending Emma through the portal. And thank the bloody gods he'd found her before the portal had closed.

"I didn't know they made 'wakeful' curses," said Emma nervously, brows furrowed, like she was trying to feel if something inside her was wrong.

"Nor did I," said Killian honestly. "Emma, if you can't sleep…" his voice trailed off, panic shaking it.

Emma swallowed hard. "This is bad."

Bloody hell, was it.

But he'd felt anxiety tighten his chest, the same feeling that had almost choked him that day in New York, trying to kiss her memories back. It hadn't worked.

But gods, he had to try.

"Emma," he said slowly, eyes finding hers. "Zelena… she said it requires True Love's Kiss," he said hesitantly, and Emma's eyes shot to his. Taking a shaking breath, he felt his mouth go dry. "I could…" His voice caught. "May I…?" Swallowing, he shut his eyes before saying, "Can I…?" He couldn't say it, but she heard it nonetheless.

Emma just blinked, like she hadn't thought of that until now.

She suddenly looked unsure, something unreadable in her eyes.

But, swallowing nervously, she nodded, eyes searching his, waiting.

And slowly, gently, he took her face in his hand, pulling her so gently toward him, pressing his lips softly to hers, his heart pounding so hard she was bound to feel it.

And it lit up every nerve inside him, sating a desire he's had so long.

But his fear cut through, and he pulled back, staring at her with wide eyes.

And her eyes opened, something even harder to read in them, but the fear in her own eyes dampened it before he could try to decipher it.

And they both stood there in silence, waiting for a glow, a blast of magic, of vibrancy, of love to break her curse.

But it never came.

And Killian felt something break in his chest, with a burn in his eyes, getting the answer he's always feared.

That he'd fallen for someone meant for someone else.

Killian spent the entire run back to Emma thinking.

They'd spent the entire past day and a half looking for someone, anyone, but they were so truly in the middle of nowhere. They traveled in a silence that hurt ever since the kiss, the kiss that didn't bloody work, and neither of them had said more than a handful of words to each other, and Killian's heart only broke into smaller pieces.

He'd woken up from his sleep to find her utterly, completely exhausted and weak, and had carried her for several hours after she'd lost the strength to walk.

Only hours ago, he set her down to go find help himself, promising her he'd be back, promising he'd find a way to save her even when his voice shook.

But he'd found absolutely nothing.

At this point, the only way to save her would be either a sorcerer stronger than the one who cast the curse or miraculously finding a suitor who happened to be her True Love fall in love with her, and her with him, within the next twenty-four hours, if she even had that long, or finding a portal back to their land and getting Emma to Henry or her parents.

And again, there was bloody nothing here. No magic beans, no portals, no nothing.

The bloody witch wanted her to suffer and that was exactly what she was doing.

And Killian was bloody suffering just watching her.

But it's been hours away from Emma's side, and Killian was sprinting through the trees, wondering how the bloody hell he was supposed to tell her he still found nothing. But he couldn't travel further without her anymore, and at this rate he'll have to carry her, try looking in a different direction, something, because he was not bloody giving up.

Killian followed the markings he left on the trunks of trees to mark his path, and Emma was right where he left her, curled up at the base of a tree, his coat lying over her, her eyes open and blinking lazily against the sunlight.

"Swan," he said with a forced smile, mind still racing for a solution that he didn't have. "No luck East, but have no fear," he said breathlessly, plenty of fear running through him. "We're just going to have to—"

Delayed, she slowly tilted her head toward him.

"Hey," she said with a quirked smile, and it was so unlike Emma that it made Killian go rigid. It was like every wall she had had come crumbling down in the past few hours he'd been gone. She'd only been weak when he left.

Looking at him with that strange, glossy look, Emma slurred, "You're really pretty, you know that?"

Killian's eyes shot wide. "I—what?"

"You're pretty," she said with that strange smile. She blinked a few times, and instantly Killian knew something was wrong. He froze. Her eyes were too bright, her demeanor too dazed.

His worst fears realized, panic seized his chest. To someone without the context she would almost appear drunk.

No.

"Swan, no…" he whispered. Heart pounding in his chest, he knelt before her. "Swan," he said firmly, watching her dazed eyes follow him. He had the awful idea that for her, what she was seeing was dreamlike. "Emma, are you with me, love?" He didn't even try to hide the panic from his voice.

"Of course I'm with you, silly," she slurred.

Killian touched her shoulder, giving her a little shake, hoping to bring her back to her senses. "Emma," he tried again, eyes blazing with desperate fear. "I need you to focus. Can you do that, love?"

She blinked a few times. "Focus on what?" she finally asked.

"Me," he said breathlessly. "Just focus on me. Do you know what's going on?"

She blinked again. "Mm," she hummed. "No." But her eyes flicked to his lips again, and then back to his eyes. "Killian," she said with a smile, as if she was just noticing he was there.

Killian felt his eyes burn. He tried to take a controlled breath. He would not lose her. He would not. "Emma, please," he whispered. He touched her face, his fingers shaking. "Swan, come back to me," he said in a pained voice, words hurting.

"Hey," she said suddenly, with a grin. "I said that to you that time you tried to drown."

His brows lifted a little at the memory, not remembering her saying such a thing.

"Then you did, you came back," she said with a little giggle.

Killian felt something hot slip down his cheek.

He'd never heard her make that sound before, and he only was now because her mind was on the verge of shutting down.

He'd never seen her with her walls down like this. She was so much more playful, so trusting, so impressionable, so childlike. She wasn't afraid and the easy smile on her lips was one he'd only seen when she had thought no one was watching her.

Another tear joined the first.

He couldn't save her.

There was nothing here, no help, no magic, no hope.

She was going to die, and he never even had the courage to tell her that he loved her, even if she wasn't his to love.

"What's wrong?"

His eyes opened, and Emma was looking at him with dazed concern. And in a moment of vulnerability, Killian whispered, "I can't save you." His voice choked. "That's what's bloody wrong."

Her brows furrowed. "You always save me," she said simply.

And that made his chest hurt with a sob that wanted to come out, but he refused to allow it.

He stared at her for a long moment, panic flooding him, seeing her look at him with such… love.

With a shuddering breath, Killian leaned in, fighting the near-paralyzing panic thrumming in his veins, and he kissed her with desperate, broken hope.

And he waited half a moment, perhaps he was too quick before, perhaps he hadn't believed enough, but bloody hell that's all he ever did—and he waited for what Emma's parents always spoke of.

The blast of power.

The radiating love that spread miles in every direction.

But just like yesterday, nothing happened.

No warmth.

No power.

Killian pulled away.

She was looking at him with such joy.

And a sob broke free from his chest.

It didn't bloody work.

He couldn't help himself; he gathered her in his arms, pulling her against his chest, leaning heavily against the fallen log beside her.

He wasn't her True Love.

And it hurt more than any pain he's ever felt.

And now, she was going to die here.

In his arms.

Just like Milah.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, face pressed to her hair. "Emma, I'm so bloody sorry." Another tear burned down his cheek. "I—I don't know what else to do," his voice cracked; he couldn't help it.

He felt her snuggle into his chest, and it hurt. "Why are you sorry? I've been waiting for you to do that again for ages," she said, eyes closed, smile at her lips.

It wasn't fair.

He loved her more than he'd ever loved anyone.

She seemed to have feelings for him all the same.

Why couldn't it be him?

"Emma, I love you," he whispered, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. She was dying and he's going to watch it happen. She was already slipping away, and he hated himself for not saying it before, when she could fully, consciously hear them.

"I love you, too," she said with a smile against his chest, with no hesitation at all, making him hug her tighter, another sob breaking from him, because it wasn't bloody fair.

"I don't want to lose you, love," he said into her hair, feeling more broken and vulnerable than he's ever felt.

"You won't," she mumbled.

Yes, I will.

And he hugged her tighter, shutting his eyes, more hot tears falling.

But his eyes flew open, suddenly feeling her press her lips to his.

She kissed him—kissed him—and he felt it.

It was like a pure, raw explosion of warmth.

Brilliant light burst from between them, tingling through his entire body.

Killian stared in utter shock, tears frozen on his face.

Emma smiled at him, her eyes sparkling in the light of the magic.

Not a moment later, her eyes fell shut and she grew heavier in his arms, her head falling over his chest.

But he could feel her breathe.

Could feel her heart beat.

She was asleep.

He blinked, confounded.

True Love's Kiss.

It worked.

She was asleep.

But…

"The Curse has been broken," said a soft little voice by his ear.

Killian jerked, only to see a fairy flying over Emma's sleeping form. She smiled softly. Looking at Killian, she said, "I sensed I was needed. But it looks like you didn't need my help after all."

Killian blinked, in utter shock. "I—I don't understand," he managed. "I kissed her hours ago; it didn't work!"

She smiled with a crease in her brows. "This was a Wakeful Curse," she said. "Both Wakeful and Sleeping curses are two sides of the same; Sleeping Curses require one's True Love to kiss them. Wakeful Curses require one to kiss their True Love," she said patiently.

Killian blinked.

Emma kissed him.

Her True Love.

"I… I tried it once before, to restore her memories," he stammered out. "To get her to remember, but it didn't…"

"True Love's Kiss does not work if one does not remember their True Love," said the fairy.

Killian felt a smile break through his shock. Looking down at Emma, passed out in his arms. Asleep.

Because of him.

"We're True Love?" he breathed.

"I'd say you have your proof in your arms," said the fairy kindly.

Suddenly worried, Killian asked, "Has it been too long? Will she be all right?"

The fairy flew to Emma's head, touching her temple and shutting her eyes. After a moment, she opened them and shook her head. "She only needs rest. There is no need to worry about her, Killian."

Killian blinked. "How did you—?"

She only smiled. Then, she flew closer to him, shut her eyes and touched his forehead. Killian felt a tingle at his skin—

"There," said the fairy, and Killian blinked his eyes open, brows rising at the influx of information. "I've given you the path you can follow to find your way back to your land. I sense there are people eager to see you both." With another smile, the fairy flew away.

Killian felt relief of all kinds flood him; Emma was alive, all right, and now he knew their way home.

Killian looked back to Emma. Lying asleep in his arms.

Hell, he already was home.

True Love.

This whole time, they'd been each other's.

And she was going to be all right.

Killian just held her to him, resting his face in her hair, smiling to the sound of her sleep.

-.-.-.-

Emma stirred.

She opened her eyes.

The sun was shining dully in the way it did in morning light, faded rays dancing through branches overhead.

The air was chilly to her skin, but she hardly felt cold; she was wrapped in arms and against a chest that were warm and soft and comfortable.

She sighed, deciding that her sleep was some of the best she'd had in her life.

Her eyes snapped open.

Sleep.

She'd been asleep.

"Swan?"

She more felt his voice rumble through his chest than heard it through the air, and Emma felt herself smile involuntarily. She twisted in his hold to see Killian smiling down at her. "I slept," she said eagerly, almost giddy.

She slept.

She was alive.

"Aye, that you did," he agreed, smiling just as wide. He kissed her hair. "Bloody hell, Swan," he whispered. "I thought I'd lost you."

She felt a flutter in her chest at his admission of such fear, so unusually vulnerable of him.

Something definitely happened that she couldn't remember.

"What happened?" she asked hesitantly. "The last thing I remember was… was you going to find help," she said slowly.

"I… couldn't," he said unevenly. "I came back to you afterward and…" His eyes shut, a muscle working in his jaw.

She read the panic in his eyes. "How close did we cut it?" she whispered.

"Too bloody close."

She felt him hold her tighter.

"Wait," she said, her mind still sluggish. "How…?"

He smiled, fingers brushing over her hair. "You kissed me."

Her brows rose, a flush rising in her cheeks. "I… did?"

"Aye, you did," he said softly. "It broke the curse."

She stared at him in shock. "But—"

"A fairy appeared to us afterward, and she explained that Wakeful Curses require the cursed to initiate the kiss."

Emma blinked. "So…"

He smiled, hearing her question. "Aye."

Her eyes lit up. "We're…?"

"Aye," he smiled, eyes sparkling as much as hers.

She shot up from his arms to face him, losing her balance not a second later.

"Easy, love!" he exclaimed, grabbing her arm before she could fall.

She didn't care.

She grabbed his face and pulled him to her, lips meeting his once again. She kissed him desperately, and after a moment of shock, he reciprocated.

Because he had not been the only one heartbroken that the kiss didn't work.

They broke apart simultaneously, looking at each other with smiles that reached their eyes. "I wanted it to be you," whispered Emma.

"Bloody hell, as did I," he smiled right back, pulling her in for another kiss, a quick, sweet one.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling him embrace her right back. "I love you, Killian," she whispered.

He smiled too, and Emma could never remember seeing him look so happy as he whispered back, "And I you."

-.-.-.

a/n: this was inspired by the AMAZING fic from Ripplestitchskein called "Whether We Wake or Sleep". Ripplestitchskein is a genius and their story is lovely! If you liked this, you'd definitely like theirs!

tag list: @teamhook @jrob64 @kmomof4 @justanother-unluckysoul @klynn-stormz @stahlop @ilovemesomekillianjones @hookmecaptain @fleurdepetite @tiganasummertree @jadehowlettthewolf @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @stahlop @snowbellewells @eddisfargo @sotangledupinit

#captain swan #captain swan fanfic #cs ff #captain swan fanfiction #cosette141 ffn #angst #once upon a time #emma and killian #emma and hook #killian jones #fanfiction #fanfic #enchanted forest #lullaby

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killercleric-archive · 5 years ago

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i got a forecat! he is so cute i could literally die. forecats is having an easter event rn! go check it out at their page!

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naffeclipse · 2 years ago

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Hi, I'm actually crying over how beautiful and haunting this is. I am shook!!! I listened to it once through and it's already in my head, so, just know that you have created something that's gonna stick with me for a long time.

I'm truly stunned by how well the verses flow and your voice (I assume, apologize if it's not) is absolutely lovely! The acapella fits the mood of CS beautiful.

My favorite lines are:

And when you shiver, wail, and whimper It will hold you in sleep

Yet we fret we can't refuse to You're no debris, our beating epiphany

This is incredible and I'm still going insane over it!!! I'm melting at your kind words and this lovely song. I'm never going to recover, thanks.

Thank you so much for sharing! ♥

@naffeclipse hey, I just wanted to let you know that your fic Cryptid Sightings is so so cool and I am going utterly bonkers over it 👉👈 I started reading it when it had 3 chapters, then by the time there were 11, I took a break from DCA fics. One of the things I was THE most hyped about when coming back was reading what I had missed of CS, so I've been doing that for the past couple days. When I'm not reading it, I'm just daydreaming about it, it's so lovely and I am constantly impressed by your incredible writing skills. Your writing is genuinely... jaw-dropping, I love it. Anyway, I also wrote a little song of chapter 16 at 3am because I had just gotten up to date and was going "!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh my ogd this fic is amazing, I need to go Cryptid Sightings mode"

(unmute)

Okay bye, this has been a love letter to your fic. Have a nice day <3

#hi sorry my words are failing me but i am over the moon #this is a lullaby I can hear playing over the scenes #just stunned blown away #first time anyone's written a song for CS i think #like wow #cryptid sightings #cryptid sightings spoilers #cryptid sightings fanart

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shireness-says · 7 years ago

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Lullaby

Summary: The house is quiet. There’s a good reason for that, however - a very small, still fragile reason who they’re all loath to disturb in any way. ~2.2K. Also on AO3.

A/N: Here’s another little snippet from my rockstar!Emma/bartender!Killian AU. After my last piece in this verse, several people wanted to know if there’d be a follow up with little Wiley. Ask, and you shall receive! Previous installments can be found on tumblr here and here and on AO3 here; I’d definitely recommend you check those out first so you get the background information. Unbeta’d, in the true spirit of the original, and rated G. Title and the lyrics at the beginning and end come from yet another Dixie Chicks song. Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

How long do you want to be loved?

The little house is quiet, which is notable in and of itself. Any place Killian Jones and Emma Swan (Emma Swan-Jones, really, according to the paperwork, if not public memory) is typically notable for the sound reverberating through it, between her music and his penchant for chatter and their shared love for their stereo system. But it’s quiet now, even if it’s only three in the afternoon.

There’s a good reason for that, however - a very small, still fragile reason who they’re all loath to disturb in any way.

Wiley David Jones is a mere eight days old, but he’s already become Killian’s entire world - a sentence that feels entirely melodramatic, and yet is entirely true. Meeting Emma, falling in love with Emma, had felt like a missing piece being found and slotted into his soul - a feeling of contentment and completeness he wouldn’t trade for the world - but holding his son for the first time is a different thing altogether: feelings of pride and fear mixed together with the sense that his world has suddenly been blown wide open and become larger than he could ever have fathomed. It’s awe-inspiring, really, and especially amazing that those feelings can be caused by something so small.

Killian’s been assured that his son is a perfectly normal size multiple times - 6 pounds, 11 ounces and 20 inches at birth - but that doesn’t keep him from thinking that Wiley is unutterably tiny, all his features miniscule and appearing unimaginably delicate. He’s a handsome lad, though Killian may be biased on that front, with soft wisps of dark hair and the cutest little nose. Killian sees a lot of Emma in their boy, in his chin and the shape of his mouth and the way Wiley is always moving when he’s awake (and often when he’s not) - not unhappy, just determined to be in motion, like he’s trying to find where the action is. Emma, bless her, swears the exact opposite, that their boy is clearly taking after his papa (“Just look at those ears, for God sake”). Regardless of which parent little Wiley currently takes after, Killian finds a certain amount of wonder in knowing that as the years pass, their little one will grow into his own person, a mix of the two of them that he’ll make entirely his own.

Technically, Wiley is supposed to be napping. Technically, they both are - sleep when the baby does and all that - and Emma, at least, is wise enough to actually take that advice. But Killian had caught some of the little newborn gurgles coming through the baby monitor as he finished tidying up the kitchen, and the noise had called to him like its own kind of siren song. Creeping into the nursery he and Emma had so carefully set up and decorated with pictures of cartoon zoo animals, he can see the little lad wide awake in his crib, pedalling his arms and legs like he’s attempting to run a race no one can see. And honestly, as long as they’re both awake, what’s the harm of having a little cuddle?

There’s an art to picking up a baby, he’s learned in the last week, a series of careful maneuvers to ensure that one’s infant is safe and secure and supported in one’s arms. But after eight days, it’s starting to become instinctual, all the intricacies of weaseling a hand under Wiley’s little neck and bum before lifting him fully into the air and into his arms, and Killian is confident is will soon become an unconscious motion.

“Hello there, little one,” he coos, and God, when did he become a man who coos? “Are you not sleepy yet?”

It seems ridiculous to Killian that Wiley isn’t tired, considering the very eventful week he’s had. Being born ought to be stressful enough, suddenly facing a wide, wide world with only the comfort of a few familiar voices to know everything will be alright, but he’s had a steady stream of visitors ever since. Liam and Elsa seem to be over at the little house on some excuse or other every day, though they do bring various casseroles and other meals, so that’s ultimately welcomed (even if Killian would like a day with just his wife and son sometime in the near future, thank you very much). There’s been a steady stream of quasi aunts and uncles parading through as well, only increasing the chaos. Ruby had dropped by the hospital, promising the newborn she’d teach him everything his parents forbade (a declaration neither Emma or Killian is particularly surprised by, but will try to remember as Wiley gets older). Robin and Regina brought over flowers and a lasagna the day after everyone got settled in together at home, fussing over the baby in a way that Killian thinks suggests they may try for their own addition in the near future. Belle and Will had generously donated some of their more gender-neutral hand-me-downs to the cause of clothing the little lad, and stopped by both the hospital and the house a few days later to introduce their own little girl to Wiley.

(“We’re going to have our hands full, won’t we?” laughs Will, gently and confidently bouncing the tiny lad in his arms like the more experienced parent he is. He’s probably thinking of one child leading the other into trouble some day and how much of a pain that will prove to be, but Killian is struck with a silly grin at the thought of two dark heads hiding behind the sofa or giggling as they run up and down the length of the bar on an evening one of their parents’ bands play at the Jolly Roger.

They’ll certainly have their hands full, and Killian can’t wait.)

The parade of loved ones isn’t likely to stop anytime soon; Mulan will be in town to talk business at the end of the month, having been sent plenty of photos in the meantime, and Emma’s family is expected at the end of the week, graciously granting the new parents a chance to settle in before they fly over from the States and stage a well-meaning and affectionate invasion. Killian is grateful for all the support; he really is. It’s been heartwarming to witness the collection of people who already love his son. But he’s just as pleased for these small moments to themselves, just him and Emma and Wiley.

In all seriousness, Killian is exhausted, and had planned to join Emma in bed for that nap. But as long as Wiley is awake, it seems criminal not to take advantage of every single moment. His one concession is to lower himself into the nursery’s cushioned rocker with the lad and at least get off his feet for a few minutes. Even better, the rocking might put both of them to sleep.

Not right now, though. Right now, Wiley is reaching up at Killian with tiny fingers from the cradle of his arms, and really, it’s enough to make any man melt.

“Whatever shall we do, my little one?” he questions softly. “You and I will need to pass the time somehow.”

Wiley just stares back at him, jaw dropped open in a little O, that adorable infant expression probably born of lack of muscle control that always looks like he’s in a state of open-mouthed wonder over his papa’s words. Killian would be perfect happy just to trace that expression with gentle fingers all day, revelling in the idea that his boy loves his voice, when he’s struck with an idea. A terribly silly, totally delightful idea.

“You don’t know this yet, little love, but your mama is a bit of a rock star,” he whispers conspiratorily, hauling himself back out of the comfortable chair to cross the room and turn on the sound system that is definitely way too elaborate for a baby’s room. Scrolling through his phone on his way back to seated comfort, he finds the song he’s looking for easily. “And even though she’s a rock star, she loves me very much. She even wrote me a song. Do you want to hear it, my lad? Want to hear Mama sing?”

When Wiley doesn’t openly shriek in protest, Killian presses play, making sure to set the volume almost as low as it will go to protect little ears and not wake Emma up from her well deserved rest. The quiet strains of his song trickle through the nursery speakers - a recording he has of Emma singing it - and he could swear that his little boy perks up a little, hearing his mother’s voice over the sound system.

“Yeah, that’s Mama,” he coos, lifting Wiley to rest on his chest. God, he’ll never get over that newborn smell - baby powder and something new and fresh and pure. “Just think of all the songs she’s going to write you, my sweet boy.”

“Are you really trying to indoctrinate him this early, Jones? I think he’s a bit young to be a fan.”

Looking up at the interruption, he can see Emma in the door, barefooted and hair still tousled from her nap. With a soft smile on her face and an amused twinkle in her eye at her boys’ tableau, she looks beautiful, though she’d probably wave him off if he tried to tell her that.

“I think Wiley will be a fan of yours regardless, darling,” he smiles back. “After all, you’re his mum.”

It never fails to amaze Killian, that his compliments can still make Emma blush after all this time, but there’s a telltale red stain to her cheeks as she moves to take the baby from him and perch on Killian’s lap so that all three are curled in the rocking chair.

“He’ll be a fan of yours too, you know,” Emma tries to argue back in that adorable, stubborn way of hers that Killian loves.

“Well thank you darling, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re easily the more impressive of the two of us. I mean, bartender vs. famous musician? There’s a clear winner there.”

Emma shakes her head insistently, leaning back with the baby in her arms to more fully make eye contact. “Yeah, but you’re Dad. The other stuff isn’t going to matter.”

That thought alone is awe inspiring, and Killian finds himself tearing for the countless time this week. Because she’s right, isn’t she? Just like always. Their little boy isn’t going to particularly care about such trivial matters as their profession and whether or not they can sing or write him a song, as long as he grows up loved beyond all reason. And Wiley will be, as long as Killian has breath.

“Thank you, my love,” he smiles through teary eyes. He lets the moment sit for a bit longer, trading loving gazes with Emma as their son fights sleep between them, little eyelids fluttering to stay open. There’s a comfort to this, emotionally if not physically, holding the two most precious people in his life safe in the circle of his arms. Finally tightening his arms to draw them closer, the moment may have been effectively ended, but he relishes the chance anyways to hold his little family tighter and feel the weight of Emma’s head as it comes to rest on his shoulder.

“In any case,” he continues in a more light-hearted tone, “I wanted to introduce the little lad to one of my favorite bands. Their songwriter has an amazing voice, I’ve heard.”

Emma offers as much of a shove with her shoulder as she can without disturbing the almost-asleep Wiley in response to Killian’s teasing smirk, but her cheeks pink up again, which feels like its own kind of victory. “Shut up,” she mumbles, nestling closer into his body despite the words.

There’s so many things he could say - teasing comments and grand declarations and everything in between. He’s already lost count of the amount of times in the past week he’s thanked Emma for their son - needlessly, she claims, but Killian knows better. But the crux of the matter is this: when life is more perfect than you ever imagined possible, can words possibly express it? Is it even worth the effort of trying?

Maybe; maybe not. Killian decides that in this moment, it just doesn’t matter, and chooses instead to drop a kiss on the crown of her head. “As you wish, love,” he murmurs into the part of her hair, still happy to follow any command she gives him.

The song may finish, and the house may descend back into back into silence once again, but the little family remains cuddled together in the nursery for a while longer, even after Wiley finally falls asleep. After Emma lays the baby back in his crib and wanders back out to the main living space, Killian takes one final moment just to watch his son sleeping peacefully before joining her. It’s funny, the way one’s entire life can change in the course of a week; change infinitely and enormously and for the better.

The house may be quiet, but his heart sounds with joyful trumpets, ushering in years of roaring happiness to come.

Is forever enough? Is forever enough?

#my writing #cs ff #lullaby #maybe i won't die alone #second verses and happy beginnings #bartender!killian #rock star!emma #and their adorable baby

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