#cs missing moment 5a fic

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "Still Here in Spirit"

This week's promo fic is just a bit of a missing moment/divergence from early season five. I was feeling a bit of angst at the end of 5x02 when Emma was left outside the diner watching the rest of her family together, and I think this was mostly born out of that feeling. I've always had a bit of a soft spot for this little one shot, and here's hoping you may enjoy it too....

Summary: Though Emma cannot be with him as he wonders just what wrong makes his love keep her distance, Killian and all her family and friends still keep the Savior close to their hearts...

Can also be read on AO3 or ff.net if that is your preference...

by: @snowbellewells

Chuckling good naturedly in spite of himself from where he leans casually against the staircase railing in Regina Mills' spacious foyer, Killian Jones watches the festive bustling and last minute preparations before the Hood-Mills-Charming families can head out on the streets of Storybrooke trick or treating. He had truly held no interest in the odd modern day custom of dressing up in unusual garb and wandering the streets begging others for sweets. Of the many strange and ridiculous-seeming practices he has been introduced to in this realm, this so-called "Halloween" seems to be one of the most ludicrous.

However, when Henry had looked at him hopefully, urging his mother's boyfriend to join them on this nighttime excursion, Killian found he could not deny the lad. There is a certain expression Swan's boy possesses – fervent, wide-eyed and engaging – that reminds him so much of Emma that day Storybrooke had been on the brink of destruction and she had looked straight into his soul and urged him to be a part of something, that he is hard-pressed to deny Henry anything, despite what his original inclinations might be. Though his weary soul had balked at laughing with light heart and playfully making merry when his love was out there somewhere, alone, cloaked in darkness and lost in her bitterness at wrongs the rest of them cannot remember committing, watching the group straightening each other's outfits, gathering Roland and little Neal's baskets for candy, and warmly trying to enjoy what they can of this moment of relative calm – even if one of their number is missing – makes him smile through the twinges of pain.

Reaching out affectionately to straighten Henry's green woolen cape and then the quiver slung over his shoulder, Killian feels the corners of his mouth pull up in a reluctant but sincere smile at the picture the boy paints in his get-up with his assorted motley band of outfitted family. There had been heated debate whether Henry should dress as knight like his Gramps or a pirate like his adopted stepfather until the boy had eventually settled the dispute by dressing like Robin as a bandit of the forest. His other surrogate parent had tried to appear casual about it, but the glimmer in his eyes as he loaned his old cape and quiver had given away how flattered he was, not to mention the Queen's grin of joyful satisfaction and the couple rogue tears she had brushed away. It warmed Killian's ancient pirate heart as well, even though he had lost out on having a miniature double for the night's festivities.

The boy gives him a nod of thanks, and pirate and young prince's eyes meet for a charged moment of bittersweet understanding, both knowing Emma should be there with them and yet not wanting to voice how much her absence hurts. Not wanting to speak sadness into an evening that is trying to enjoy the good moments.

Then, with a steadying hand on the lad's shoulder, Killian vows to follow him and make sure this "Outlaw of Storybrooke Forest" rapidly becoming a young man enjoys himself tonight. Emma would wish it, and someday – he swears to himself – he will tell her about tonight's hijinks, and her parents dressed as Bonnie and Clyde (whoever they might be) with Regina and Robin as Romeo and Juliet in tow. Little Roland looks a bit out of place in their group dressed as a "minion" – which Henry had explained was in some moving picture the little lad had just seen – and bouncing around the rest of them as if he simply cannot wait another moment from them to be off.

The night progresses beautifully, with laughter and smiles that Killian knows he will hold in his memory for years to come. Being drawn into and accepted as part of a family, and necessary for its happy celebrations, was a gift he had long since forgotten and never expected to be a part of again. Yet, he cannot help wishing Emma could be here with them, looking on proudly as Henry takes care to see that Roland doesn't get too far ahead and become lost, that his little uncle is given his fair share of their sugary haul, and constantly glancing back at the group of adults who love him as if making sure that they too are happy and content. His Swan would be so proud of the good heart and concern for others her son continues to show, despite moving into those sometimes troublesome teenage years. He wishes so fervently that she was there beside him, her small, strong hand slipped into his, her head laid gently on his shoulder, just barely leaning into his side as they walk, that his hand clenches into a tight fist at the absence. Those easy, safe, and comfortable times together seem so far removed now from the cold distance that the Darkness has formed between them.

Still, there are many good moments too: Granny and Ruby offering wolf-shaped cookies and hot chocolate to all those who come to their door, with Ruby smirking and shooting a playful wink to he, Snow and Charming from beneath the painted wolf face and ears she wears atop her dark curls and asking, "Well, what else would I be for Halloween?" with a playful giggle; Belle meeting every child at the door to the library all lit up with carved pumpkins in each window, eager to give them a handpicked book of their very own, and taking a moment to slip a gilt-edged paperback into his hand as well. "It's The Princess Bride," she whispers surreptitiously to him with a sympathetic smile. "Emma mentioned how much she liked it once, and when I re-read it, I knew that you would appreciate it too, Killian."

By the time the group reaches the mines where the dwarves and fairies are giving lighted tours of the caves and sending their guests off for home with hot apple cider to warm their hands and stomachs, Killian is truly feeling cheered – if only at the happiness of those around him and the comfort of being welcomed wholeheartedly into their midst. When he parts ways with Henry and the rest of Emma's loved ones at the loft, savoring the hug Henry gives him before bounding after Regina, Robin, and Roland to get back to their house and go through all his candy, and possibly holding on a bit too tightly to the lad for just a moment, he pauses in the street lights' glow, peering into the night and mulling his next course of action.

Eventually he turns back toward the Jolly Roger and the docks, walking slowly and trying to keep himself from whispering Emma's name into the quiet evening. He knows that bringing her to him when she is not herself will only bring him more pain; their last encounter in his private quarters had taught him that lesson all too well. However, as he boards his beloved ship, strides across the deck and comes to stand by the wheel, gazing up at the clear night's multitude of stars, he does leave her a small remembrance. "I know you're out there somewhere, Love," he whispers to the breeze. "I cannot hold you tonight as I desire, but you were never far from all of our minds. Enjoy your Halloween treat."

He slips below quickly, knowing that tangling wits and words with her now will only make things worse. Head bowed, he can only hope she will sense how much he misses her in the gesture and that she – the real Emma - will feel a moment of his care. The captain has entered his cabin, leaning against the closed door and praying desperately that she is not lost in torment somewhere with no one beside her, when on the deck above him, a swirl of magical smoke clears, and Emma appears by the ship's wheel, a tentative, tiny smile upon her lips. Picking up the still-hot cup of cider he has left for her there, she takes a sip and imagines that the warmth spreading through her at first swallow is from him being able to hold her close once more. For now, it is the only treat they can allow themselves… so she closes her eyes, thinks of him, and tries to let it be enough.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic @lfh1226-linda @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @stahlop @sotangledupinit @justanother-unluckysoul @drowned-dreamer @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @blackwidownat2814 @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @kazoosandfannypacks @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight

[csgiftexchange]

GIFT GRAB

Participants: @anmylica @captainodonoghue @cocohook38 @cosette141 @everything-person @i-will-sing-no-requiem @jrob64 @kazoosandfannypacks @middlemistcs13 @nachocheese-itsmycheese @sotangledupinit @their-seafaring-ways @totheendoftheworldortime

Gifts:

Giftee 1 WANTS: fanart of one of their fics, cursed!Killian, Movie au of Divergent Harry Potter Jumanji 2017 2019 or Avatar. NO: permanent character death for either Killian or Emma

Giftee 2 WANTS: missing moments, Killian exploring the land without magic, Captain/Lieutenant Duckling. Has no restriction.

Giftee 3 WANTS: pirate princess, canon au, supernatural au NO: angst, character death

Giftee 4 WANTS: fanart of one of their fics, canon compliant or divergent physical hurt comfort, one bed sharing before Emma and killian are together NO: smut, too much sexual innuendo/intention, character death, dark ones, season 5a, AUs, graphic injuries/gore

Giftee 5 WANTS: au fanfic, fanart, christmas anything. NO: smutt, shirtless fanart, no swearing, no villainizing Neal or Milah

Giftee 6 WANTS: one bed modern au, childhood best friends, sick fic au. Has no restrictions.

Giftee 7 WANTS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, captain duckling, cs role reversal. NO: permanent character death, supporting Neal.

Giftee 8 WANTS: gifsets, enemies to lovers, lieutenant duckling, pirate!Killian -princess!Emma, lieutenant duckling or pirate!Killian - princess!Emma fanart. NO: Graham or Neal.

Giftee 9 WANTS: Hurt/comfort, modern AU, Christmas themed CS fluff, must have happy ending. NO: friendship between Emma & Regina

Giftee 10 WANTS: anything set in season 3 or 4, mutual pining, any fanart. NO: AUs.

Giftee 11 WANTS: angst and/or smutt, western/farm/ranch au, any au, fluffy family holiday/winter fic/art. NO: whump, Ingrid

Giftee 12 WANTS: Established relationship, cs family fluff, cs parents, modern au with established relationship. NO: character death, angst.

Giftee 13 WANTS: Enemies/rivals to lovers; fake dating; captain cobra swan. NO: no major character death (I.e., emma or killian), no victor/ruby

[cat-sophia]

Happy 48th Captain Swan Day!

Hello Friends!

@winterbythesea is one of the most talented shipmates i know. She create amazing CS art and writes brilliant stories. Today we will focus on her wonderful stories. i fall in love with Given The Choice from the first read and i jump up and down with joy every time i see it’s updated. One of my fav of her stories that to this day has special place in my heart is bring back what once was mine - absolutely perfect story. I really hope that someday we will read more of Can’t Take The Sky, The Wicked Affair and Hogwarts AU - i’ll be so happy to read more!

Svenja, thank you for all you create, thank you for our conversations - not only about your perfect stories and art. Thank you that you share your talent with us! We are very grateful and we love you!

Her fics that I read and rec:

Multi Chapter

Given The Choice - Post-Neverland AU where Pan did not escape Pandora’s Box and Emma and Hook argue. A lot. (all chapters here) - missing scene

One Shots

Canon/Canon Divergence

Hidden Delights - in which David follows Emma, Hook and Neal on the way to Dark Hollow, and regrets his choices immensely when they meet an unexpected obstacle that threatens to get way too personal.

Magic Is Emotion - After Emma accidentally hurts Killian when she loses control of her magic, she decides that it’s for the best if they stay away from each other. But magic is emotion, and feelings can’t just be suppressed, and maybe it’s time to stop running… s4

tales of love and loss - ghost story set during the missing year, in which Killian hears stories of a ghostly lady in white who roams the seas in search of her lost love. But she isn’t real. She can’t be.

Double-Edged - Canon Divergence - where Zelena got hold of the dagger in Camelot. Separated from her family, Emma can do nothing except whatever Zelena commands – and she can’t remember what she’s already been made to do.

Heartbeat - Just a few missing scenes, basically Killian’s POV during and after Emma’s rescue in 4x02

in vitibus veritas - in which Emma, Hook, and Neal are unwilling participants in one of Pan’s little games while in Neverland.

Won't Say I'm In Love - Canon Divergence - set shortly after Neverland, in which the gang find themselves in the Enchanted Forest trying to defeat the Wicked Witch – and, in Emma’s case, trying not to admit her feelings for the pirate, until circumstances conspire to admit it for her

Love Is A Weapon - After Belle figures out that Rumple holds Killian’s heart, Emma is determined to get it back and save her pirate. Unfortunately, going up against the Dark One is anything but easy, especially when he holds the heart of someone you love… 4A  Canon Divergence (better than canon!) Part2 Part3

Wardrobe Change - Following a little accident with baby Neal, Emma tries to fix Killian’s wardrobe situation… with decidedly mixed results. s4

Pirate Skills - A missing scene from 4x05 - Killian helps Belle with babysitting little Neal.

Miscommunication - When David comes home to hear strange noises from his apartment, he can’t quite help jumping to conclusions…

bring back what once was mine - one-shot set at some point in the future, of Killian and Emma on a mission to save their child from the witch who kidnapped her (perfection!)

The Best Time - A battle aboard a ship. A marriage proposal. A captain nearby. And neither of them really have more time to waste. (A Captain Swan version of THAT scene from PotC).

A Name For A Prince - in which the Charmings name their son to honour a man who helped them fall in love and save their daughter. (A little fix-it fic because I still think it's weird that they called the baby Neal.)

Muscle Memory - in which Killian teaches Emma how to sword-fight, and they both explore this new thing between them. (Set in those six weeks after Elsa left. Because by the season 4 finale, Emma suddenly knew a lot about handling a sword, and we never got to see her learn.)

Pirate Diplomacy - A criminal mastermind and his crew runs afoul of Killian Jones... and his new sidekick. (A criminal mastermind and his crew runs afoul of Killian Jones... and his new sidekick.)

Of Princesses And Scoundrels - Emma gets one last addition to her team for the trip to the Underworld, and Killian makes a new friend. Because scoundrels don’t stay dead.

Cold Showers And Icy Looks - in which Emma and Killian have just battled a dragon, and Killian stumbles through some unintentional double-entendre as he tries to deal with the aftermath.

terrible and wonderful - Canon Divergence - where Killian remembers and Emma does not. Not really speculation, more just inspired by recent spoilers and the thought of Emma “meeting” Killian in full pirate swagger mode.

Love is (colour)blind - drabble

Traditions - Killian gets his hook stuck in the Christmas tree and Emma makes a joke about how he's the best looking ornament she's ever seen

a little missing scene of sorts set during the season 4 finale

Rain - CS ficlet (set during CS Movie)

Post-5.01 | 5x3 | 5x11 | after 5a spec | 5b spec | end of 5b spec | 5x8 | Post UW spec 5x21 spec - season 5 drabbles

Little smut drabble | Pancakes | Future | Post Underworld - drabbles

drabble - Killian’s longed hair | drabble - s6  “I like your particular brand of hope.” | drabble - Captain Swan + Charming + pancakes | drabble - some things - and some people - are well worth waiting for | drabble - what if Liam was in Storybrooke with his younger brother | drabble - As you wish drabble - Emma and Killian adopt little girl | drabble - set in s3 | drabble - "I'm gonna save my other princess" | drabble -  Emma and Killian trying to plan some sort of mission and Emma getting distracted

AU

Across The Stars - Once upon a time in a galaxy far far away… there was a princess who led a rebellion against an evil Empire, and a smuggler captain who was only in it for the money, and cared about nothing else. Or perhaps, he simply needed reminding that he could… Star Wars AU Part2 Part3

Hogwarts AU - Emma Swan has just started first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Part2

Motivated - scheming Liam and jealous Killian

Caught On Camera - Emma has tried to make the relationship with Walsh work, but when he all but rejects her live on TV, she finds a willing substitute in her bodyguard.

love love peace peace (and a little revenge) - in which Killian does Eurovision.

Can’t Take The Sky - Emma Swan and Killian Jones team up to apprehend an armed and dangerous military deserter, who just so happens to be Killian’s brother. Shenanigans ensure - in space. Sci-fi AU (I’d love to read more!)

The Wicked Affair - Killian Jones is a secret agent working for R.E.G.A.L., an international espionage and law enforcement agency. Emma Swan is an expert thief who has bested him more than once. And now, they have to work together. The fate of the world might just depend on it. Part2 (so good - it would be awesome to read more!)

drabble - EF AU smut

edit: @winterbythesea fics that i read after making this post:

you spin me right ‘round - A little Emma and Hook moment featuring sword-fighting, an overdramatic move with limited uses, and unexpected feelings. Set sometime in season 4.

Scars That Linger -  A little bit set in Camelot, in which some members of the court bring up old insecurities for Killian, and Emma finds a way to reassure him. AU in that Emma is not the Dark One.

[snowbellewells]

Self-Promo Sunday: “And by a Sleep We Hope to End the Heartache”

(This story was originally written for the second edition of the CS Storybook on Tumblr – go check that out if you haven’t, it’s amazing!!  My episode for that project was 5x04 “Broken Kingdom”, and within that framework, I wanted to imagine how Killian might have tried to help comfort a sleepless Emma as she fought the darkness within. The title is taken from a line in Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Hope you enjoy!  I’d love – as always – to hear what you think!)

“And by a Sleep We Hope to End the Heartache”

by: @snowbellewells 

           “Lass…Emma… Love, please, you have to stop…” his quiet voice, vibrating with emotion despite its soothing timbre, still somehow managed to slice through the paranoia, the swirling images, and yammering voices roiling inside her skull.  It was the one thing, other than her son’s hopeful, trusting face, which had managed to do so since she had risen from the ominous hatch in the Camelot forest, alone, confused, and the newest Dark One.  Her stride faltered at his plea, her step finally pausing before the window of the castle suite they had been given by Arthur for their accommodation.

            Looking over her shoulder to find his fraught gaze, Emma turned slightly toward the pirate, a glance half exasperation and half desperate need on her conflicted face.  “What do you want from me, Killian?” she whispered tiredly, her shoulders slumping with a weary defeat he had rarely seen from her.  He had no way of knowing that Emma desired nothing so much as to cross the large open chamber and collapse into his arms, as she had a week ago when they’d first found her in the stone circle about to crush Merida’s heart.  His embrace tight around her, his heart beating frantically just under her palm, those few moments had been the only time the riot inside her head had seemed to cease – when she could think clearly, as only herself.  She needed that relief again, and yet she feared letting down her guard, even for a moment’s comfort.  She was barely keeping all the violent, persuasive urges twining through her consciousness at bay, barely keeping all the raw power tingling under her skin from breaking free.  She could not allow herself the peace of Killian’s embrace; rest might let the horrors loose upon them all.

            Her pirate watched her knowingly, his eyes gentle, yet seeing and understanding too much as his discerning gaze studied her from across the room.  Those blue pools of his stare took in the way she vibrated slightly, no matter how she tried to hold still.  He saw the tangled, disheveled fall of her hair – usually more a silky sheet of gold – the strange, rough grey duster she wore, still trailing dirt and dried leaves from the forest floor behind her.  This was his Swan before him yet, but she was in distress and guarded once more, in a way she had finally begun to put in her past – and he experienced a disorienting, long rush of despair at how to help her.  He only knew for certain that he must find a way.

            “Come here, Lass,” he finally murmured, half a directive and half an appeal, as he held out his hand to her from where he sat at the edge of the room’s large canopy bed.

            “Why?” she fired back nervously.  “I’m the Dark One now.  I don’t sleep, remember?”

            The unhinged tone in her voice, as well as the unvarnished bitterness, worried him more than he cared to admit.  Killian hesitated, biting his lip and considering his next words carefully.  His pause only seemed to agitate her further.  Why indeed?  And yet, he could not help but want her near, wish to gather her to his side, run the curve of his hook down her spine, and attempt to soothe her, bring her some measure of comfort, however ineffectual it might prove in the end.

            Heaving a deep sigh, Killian forced his voice to remain slow and even, despite his frustration and his utter anger at the situation his Love had been cast into.  Crooking his fingers in invitation, beckoning her forward while keeping his hand extended to her palm up, he raised an eyebrow slightly in challenge.  “Nor am I trying to force you to, Emma. I have not forgotten what you are battling, but can I not try to aid you in the fight?  Can I not hold the woman I love for a few moments?”

            Her lower lip trembled in response, before she pressed her mouth tightly closed, considering his offer, the longing clear on her face, until she let her swirling green eyes meet his at last.  “Y-you still…you still see me?” she finally whispered, her voice desperately fearful, quivering at the end with hope.

            There was no need for flowery words, only to hold her gaze, give a decided, affirmative nod and answer, “Aye.”

            At that single word, Emma took one hesitant, faltering step toward him, then another, until he could clasp her hand in his questing fingers and pull her against him, sitting at the edge of the rich, overlarge bed.  Mumbling quiet nonsense, Killian tucked Emma under his chin, cradling the back of her head in his palm and rocking them gently from side to side.  “Shh, Love, shh… it’s going to be alright,” he crooned, injecting steadfast certainty he wished he truly felt into his tone.

            Emma’s voice was broken and child-like as she spoke, her words muffled slightly by the leather of his sleeve.  “How can it be?” she asked plaintively.  There was something achingly human about her now, when before she had seemed so steely and impervious – untouchable as she stood at the window like a sentry, proud and strong, but cold and hard as well, looking out over the courtyard into the dark night.  The power within her was a distancing shield, a barrier higher and more impenetrable than her emotional walls had ever been.  Pulling back again briefly to look into the limitless eyes of this man who had pulled her back from the brink, her face was flushed and wet with silently shed tears, as real and vulnerable as he had ever seen her.  “I’m hanging by a thread, Killian.  There’s so much pressing inside, trying to escape, and the voices, the Dark Ones before me, they’re constantly whispering, watching, tempting me and trying to take over.  If I let my guard slip, if they get loose…  I’m terrified of what might happen, what I might do… who I might hurt…” The last words dropped to the barest whisper, her eyes falling to their intertwined fingers anxiously, unable to see the disgust and disapproval that must surely be on the face that had always before been nothing short of adoring.

            However, what she found when she looked up was far from devastating – so tender it made her very pulse still, bringing her up short and blinking in disbelief.  “That will never happen, Emma.  I know it with every fiber of my being, as surely as I know the way around my ship and as clearly as the navigator’s course is marked by the stars in the sky. You are stronger than that demon, Love.  Though I hate that you must fight so bitterly, I have no doubt that you will win.”

            “Thank you for believing in me, Killian,” she bit her lip, the lower one caught by her teeth, and she continued to play with her fingers, again avoiding his eyes to stare at their joined hands.  “But I can’t help worrying.  You can’t know that for sure!  When you found me yesterday evening, trying to take the dagger from Regina’s hiding place, I nearly took your head off!  It was your quick reflexes that saved you, not any restraint of mine.  I wasn’t in my right mind at all.  Wh- what if you had been killed?  What if you had been Henry?  Or my mom with my little brother?”

            Killian sighed, giving a moment for Emma to feel her words had sunk in, gathering her closer still against his chest and pressing his lips to the soft hair at the crown of her head, humming gently against her skin, hoping to quiet her anxious quaking in his arms.  When he did speak at last, his voice was low, a mere warm undertone at her ear.  “Swan, you have already fought back since then.  Think of our ride this afternoon, and that moment of perfection in the Middlemist field.  The Crocodile’s vile echo, any of the others, they were not present then, were they?  Those insidious voices vanished, aye?  Do not grant them a way back in.”

            Emma nodded weakly, burying her adorably perfect little nose into his thickly furred chest, as if it were the softest pillow she had ever rested against.  Killian had never seen her so fragile – his angel of boots and leather and steely resolve – and though his heart swelled that she would finally turn to him in her need – he hated the burden she bore.  It was too much, too much to ask of a woman who had been so strong and carried such hurt all her life.  A little sigh escaped her rosebud lips, the breathe tickling his collarbone, and Killian felt a rush of tension and wild energy drain from her, her shoulders slumping and her slight form leaning against him more heavily for support.

            “So, do you think you can allow yourself a bit of peace?” he asked, smoothing mussed strands of her hair back over her shoulder affectionately, just as he had done almost since their first meeting.

            Emma only muttered unintelligibly against him at first, before she finally put enough distance between them for him to make out her husky voice.  “I’ll lie down with you and try to rest a bit.  You still need to sleep, Pirate.  But I won’t…it won’t work…I’ve figured that out by now.  It’s just the way it is…”

            “Fair enough then, Swan.  I will make do with what I can get,” he assured her, offering a crooked half-smile and scooting back toward the pillows piled at the head of the bed while still keeping her in his embrace.

            She made no effort to distance herself, moving with him and placing her hand over his heart near her flushed cheek as he settled comfortably on the mattress, looking up at the high, stone ceiling above them.  His one hand began to trace idle patterns on her shoulder and arm as they cuddled together, neither drifting into sleep yet, but perhaps finding a bit of respite all the same.

Eventually, when Killian did find his eyes fluttering closed, he began to speak, softly and almost without thought.  He would not leave her alone in her struggle, and so he began to fill the void with words to keep himself awake and with her.  To his own astonishment, what came to his lips were tales he had long forgotten until that moment, memories from when he was but a lad long ago, which no other person had heard – not even Milah or Bae – until that moment.  And he was grateful then for Emma’s warmth and full attention as he spoke, emotions that had needed vent for centuries were now finally loosed – all the pain and rejection of being left alone and afraid in the dark, a child who had started out on an adventure with his papa and instead been thrown rudderless into the heaving waves of a cruel and treacherous adult world.

His voice dwelt haltingly on his one light – both his anchor and his compass – his Liam.  Once begun, the story of their stolen boyhood streamed from him, the bits and pieces of the beloved older brother who had been his companion and the only family left to him, in a harsh, dark world of slavery and bleak deprivation.  Liam, who had told him stories when he couldn’t sleep for the suffocating pitch blackness of the hold where they were sometimes locked at night merely for the sake of the other crew’s entertainment or for some imagined mistake, the growing young man who had given half his rations to his gangly younger brother whose belly never felt properly full, who had found a way to splint Killian’s ankle when the sadistic bosun on their master’s ship  had yanked and twisted it to keep Killian from scaling the ropes to the crow’s nest where he could hide from the hulking man’s mistreatment, the protective father figure who had curled around his sibling offering body heat when they both shivered in their bunk, one threadbare blanket between them on winter nights at sea, and his hero who had given Killian the one gleam of hope he had possessed in those endless suffering years. It had all been pent inside him for so long that once he began to speak of Liam, Killian couldn’t bring himself to stop until it was all voiced.  Liam Jones had been taken from the world much too soon, and Killian had not allowed himself to grieve – taken to piracy and retribution, plunging headlong down the ages -  until that moment in Arthur’s kingdom with his silently listening True Love.

His deluge of words did not seem to faze Emma; in fact, she appeared to welcome his outpouring, tracing gentle fingertips over the contours of his face and into his hair, the strokes as soothing as his touch had been to her a short time ago.  Killian didn’t know how long he talked and Emma listened attentively, but his eyelids at last drooped closed in the still watches of the night, his voice slowing and tripping sluggishly, exhaustion and flagging adrenaline towing him under until he could not fight sleep any longer.  He thought he saw Emma’s hand wave over him, but then he was lost in slumber.

~~~88~~~

When he woke with the next day’s dawn, the spot where she had rested beside him was still warm, but Emma was no longer there.

~~~88~~~

            They set up a reassuring pattern after that.  Night after night, for as long as they were guests in the castle of Camelot, Killian could at least coax Emma to lie down in the circle of his arms and rest her weary body, if not her mind in actual sleep.  It was better than nothing, and the pirate strove with all he had to stay awake with her, to keep vigil at her side through the lonely grey hours, when she was most vulnerable and her strength might flag.  Exhausted though they both were, it could have been so much worse, and Killian was grateful for what she did allow him to do.  The first time he had fallen into slumber and woken with her gone, his heart had been in his throat, fearful for where she might have gone and what horror could have gripped her and spurred her from their resting place.  However, when he found her where they all convened for breakfast, a tiny, almost light, smile curved her lips upward at the corners when she spied him.  Something in her face let him know that she appreciated what he had shared, that he had allowed her to comfort him, and that somehow in granting her that caring gesture, he had made her feel more human once again, given her back a bit of herself.

            Those sleepless nights in the broken kingdom of legend’s Once and Future King, when Emma curled into his side and he finally felt the shaking ease from the taut muscles she had held under rigid control all that day, more terrified with each passing one that she might slip and do some terrible magic she couldn’t take back, and he sensed more than heard her say that the hissing demons in her mind had ceased their torment for a while – those nights were when their fragile love, born in Storybrooke over moonlit walks, pizza with Netflix, and interrupted coffee dates, took root and grew into something dauntless, lasting, and True.  From those nights he held her until his body gave up and forced him to sleep, or they both stayed awake and saw the morning paint the sky together, from then on Captain Hook and his Swan savior were joined in a bond which could not be severed by distance or foe, the Darkness or even Fate.

            Once they left the land of Avalon, there was further pain and trial.  The fatal cut from Excalibur would have been Killian’s death; he had been resigned to it, had lived much longer than he’d ever been meant to and begged Emma to let him go.  But the threat of losing her pirate – her reason to finally open her heart again and let herself fully live – caused Emma to make a tragic mistake.  The temptation that had finally broken her resistance and blackened her soul after all her desperate struggle and restraint was bending the laws of nature to keep him alive and at her side.  His angel fell to the need to save him, to not lose one more person who loved her and allowed her to love – to feel – in return.  And when she crumbled, it drug him into the pit along with her.  Harsh words and rage, bitten into blades that wounded and scarred, passed between the True Loves who then shared the worst Darkness the realms had ever known.

            Yet, after the torture, the fire, and one more crippling separation, they found the way back to each other.  Exhausted, battered, but hand-in-hand, after traveling to the very Underworld itself and defying the lord of that domain, in the end even death could not part the Savior and her captain forever.  When they finally stole a moment upon their return – tripping tangled together up the front steps of the house that Killian and Henry had chosen by the dim light of the stars on a chilly May night in Storybrooke, Emma was so sleepy she was nearly punch drunk in her pirate’s grasp as he barely managed to catch her before she fell onto the wooden porch.  Both of them were chuckling lightly, blearily only half awake, but so glad to be alone together and safe, at least for a moment, that anything else could wait.  It had been a long time coming, and the austere hall and front room were somewhat haunted yet by their distorted alters’ presences and the barbs they had thrown, but they bypassed that silent space – it would keep for the morrow – to finally enter the bedroom they had always meant to share.

            The peace which washed over Emma in that moment they fell together, sinking into the thick, cushy comforter, navy blue dotted by tiny white anchors she had chosen with him in mind, and the joy she felt at the sleep-muted delight on his face on first glimpse of them, was the most comfort she had felt since he stole her away on horseback that afternoon in Camelot.  It seemed lifetimes ago now, though she could still feel the pink petals of the Middlemist flower he had handed her in that green haven and the sun slanting down on their faces as they had kissed.

            She realized then that though there was healing still to be done, they had once more reached the place of hope they had found amidst the dazzling field of blooms and golden light.  There was the promise of forever in that hazy remembered moment, with the white dress and cape, the wind in her hair, the kiss that had swept her up in delight. Though the sky had been their only witness, Emma had felt her heart blend irrevocably with his in that moment, and there in their home by the sea, weeks or months later, so jarring and confused she hardly knew which, as he pulled the sheet and blankets up to her chin before huddling beneath them with her and hoping to banish the world outside, it felt as if they were finally going to enjoy the vow that had been made between them in that fairytale scene rose-tinted in her mind’s eye. With Killian at her back, arms wrapped around her so that hand and hook could rest upon her skin, and his nose nuzzled warmly at the nape of her neck, at long last Emma finally slept.

Tagging a few who may enjoy: @kmomof4 @hollyethecurious @searchingwardrobes @effulgentcolors @winterbaby89 @resident-of-storybrooke @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jennjenn615 @therooksshiningknight @gingerchangeling @blackwidownat2814 @bmbbcs4evr @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @spartanguard @laschatzi @drowned-dreamer @ps1473-4 @let-it-raines 

[snowbellewells]

Self-Promo Sunday: “Dark Swan, Hot Chocolate”

Well friends, I’m a little late getting this posted this week, but I wanted to revisit this little early 5a one shot - a missing Swan Believer moment that I would have loved to see when they returned from Camelot to Storybrooke. There’s art now too, so hopefully the whole product will bring a bit of warmth and a little smile. It can still be found as a chapter in my collection of various one shots, “Of Swans and Swords and Hopeful Hearts”, on either AO3 or ff.net, if that is your preference. There are numerous other fics where this came from in that collection. 

Summary: Standing alone outside Granny’s Diner, while all of those she loves are gathering inside without her, Emma feels the true weight of what taking on the Darkness has cost her. But there’s one special person who can still bring an offering that reaches her, no matter how dark and cold the night might feel...

“Dark Swan, Hot Chocolate”

by: @snowbellewells

She stands alone outside the packed diner, huddled into the long, black duster she wears over her equally dark dress, futilely trying to ward off the chill autumn air. Unfortunately, the effort is wasted when the cold comes from within her as well, wrapping subtly around her heart. Cozy, bright lights and the hum of chatter from her gathered family, former friends and allies, emanate in a soft glow from the windows of the little inn and restaurant, piercing the night.

The woman once known as Emma Swan, now the self-proclaimed Dark One, impassively watches those within mingling, laughing, and embracing. If a person didn’t know the tiniest nuance of her face, she would look unaffected, waiting for the best time to make her next move. However, as her thin frame, buffeted by the wind at her back, leans forward slightly, a hint of the yearning within her peeps through the harsh, immovable veneer. The former lost girl who had almost – finally ¬– found her home nearly shows through the frosted, severe hair and barely glimmering pale skin for a moment, aching desperately to take a step closer, to be back inside, within the warmth of love and light, once more a part of something.

The Darkness slides back in smoothly, quickly, before Emma’s human longing can fully take hold, purring with the thrilling tingle of so much magic at her fingertips, whispering that she does not need any of them. ‘Look at them, going right on without you…’ the insidious voice in her head reminds, until Emma finally recedes once more and it is the icy, impervious new magical villain who turns and begins to walk away – a solitary black shape against the backdrop of the dark, deserted street.

Suddenly, she stiffens at the sound of the bell above Granny’s door jangling, a slam as it hits the frame again, and footsteps pounding down the steps, onto the pavement, seemingly running after her. She pauses, body taut and vibrating with barely contained power, fingers clenched in tightly until her nails dig into her palms, forcing herself not to spin and immediately blast the newcomer off his or her feet.

Waiting, she is still and unchanging as stone until a small, light hand falls gently on her arm, and Henry speaks in the voice that pierced her impenetrable heart four years ago when he showed up at her door in Boston, and refuses to leave her, even now. “Mom!” Henry pleads, voice roughly cracking with emotion as he clutches her elbow. “Wait, please…”

No matter how the beast within roars and tries to surge up in retaliation at her hesitation, Emma fights through it enough to turn and look on her son, a young man now but still beseeching her to listen and believe in him. Henry’s mop of brown hair ruffles in the breeze as his eyes search her face, hope somehow still directed at her, his faith causing a lump to rise in the back of her throat where nothing else has penetrated.

“Here,” Henry offers, holding up a to-go cup from Granny’s that she hadn’t noticed until then. “I know you like it with cinnamon…like I do. You must miss the hot chocolate.” He tries a mischievous, knowing little smile, and Emma somehow feels a tiny echo of her own inching her own lips up at the corners.

Giving the barest of nods, Emma extends her hand to take his offering, careful not to let her fingers brush his – not wanting the chill that has taken her over to infect his warm heart and generous spirit. “Thanks, Kid,” she rasps, struggling to force the words past a tightened throat and make them heard.

He shrugs, “No problem” his easy reply. They share a moment that is nearly casual, coming close to the easy camaraderie they have always had. But his earnest face sobers quickly as he catches her wrist before she can distance herself again and stares into her eyes unflinchingly. “I – I know you’re angry…at Gramps and Grandma, my other mom…everyone. And you’re hurt. You feel like it’s too late…this is who you are now, and that they should have to pay. It isn’t true though! I’m not giving up on you – and I’m not the only one, either.”

She shakes her head, starting to protest, but Henry interrupts, not letting her deny his hope and his love…his Charming optimism. “I miss you, Mom,” he adds wistfully, then plows on, “but I know you’ll be back. Until then, enjoy the hot chocolate.” With that, he gives her one last quick smile and dashes back the way he came, back into the warmth and light of the gathered citizens of Storybrooke.

Emma turns and continues the walk to her house alone. Raising the cup to her lips though, she finds one tiny tendril of warmth and comfort at first sip; the chocolate, milk, and spice of the cinnamon greet her tongue with happy nostalgia and sweetness. It solves nothing – and yet, for the briefest of moments, it thaws a bit of the ice that has encased her from the inside out. Maybe the real Emma is still in there somewhere, anxious to savor something as simple as a favorite drink, and maybe – just maybe – find her way back out.

Tagging: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @cosette141 @zaharadessert @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @anmylica @xsajx @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @thislassishooked​ @optomisticgirl​ @sotangledupinit​ 

[jennjenn615]

Man this really broke my heart today. I remember how much their separation devastated Killian and Henry and even though they never gave up it really took a toll on them. But the end little bit brought me right back to Emma being in there even though the Dark One was trying to make her go away totally!!!

I love this so much though. Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!!!!!

Self Promo Sunday: “Still Here in Spirit”

A canon divergence (or missing moment) one shot, set around 5x03 of “Once”….

“Still Here in Spirit”

By: @snowbellewells​

Chuckling good naturedly in spite of himself from where he leans casually against the staircase railing in Regina Mills’ spacious foyer, Killian Jones watches the festive bustling and last minute preparations before the Hood-Mills-Charming families can head out on the streets of Storybrooke trick or treating. He had truly held no interest in the odd modern day custom of dressing up in unusual garb and wandering the streets begging others for sweets. Of the many strange and ridiculous-seeming practices he has been introduced to in this realm, this so-called “Halloween” seems to be one of the most ludicrous.

However, when Henry had looked at him hopefully, urging his mother’s boyfriend to join them on this nighttime excursion, Killian found he could not deny the lad. There is a certain expression Swan’s boy possesses – fervent, wide-eyed and engaging – that reminds him so much of Emma that day Storybrooke had been on the brink of destruction and she had looked straight into his soul and urged him to be a part of something, that he is hard-pressed to deny Henry anything, despite what his original inclinations might be. Though his weary soul had balked at laughing with light heart and playfully making merry when his love was out there somewhere, alone, cloaked in darkness and lost in her bitterness at wrongs the rest of them cannot remember committing, watching the group straightening each other’s outfits, gathering Roland and little Neal’s baskets for candy, and warmly trying to enjoy what they can of this moment of relative calm – even if one of their number is missing – makes him smile through the twinges of pain.

Reaching out affectionately to straighten Henry’s green woolen cape and then the quiver slung over his shoulder, Killian feels the corners of his mouth pull up in a reluctant but sincere smile at the picture the boy paints in his get-up with his assorted motley band of outfitted family. There had been heated debate whether Henry should dress as knight like his Gramps or a pirate like his adopted stepfather until the boy had eventually settled the dispute by dressing like Robin as a bandit of the forest. His other surrogate parent had tried to appear casual about it, but the glimmer in his eyes as he loaned his old cape and quiver had given away how flattered he was, not to mention the Queen’s grin of joyful satisfaction and the couple rogue tears she had brushed away. It warmed Killian’s ancient pirate heart as well, even though he had lost out on having a miniature double for the night’s festivities.

The boy gives him a nod of thanks, and pirate and young prince’s eyes meet for a charged moment of bittersweet understanding, both knowing Emma should be there with them and yet not wanting to voice how much her absence hurts. Not wanting to speak sadness into an evening that is trying to enjoy the good moments.

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[kmomof4]

Ohhhhhh my heart!!!! 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Self-Promo Sunday: “And by a Sleep We Hope to End the Heartache”

(This story was originally written for the second edition of the CS Storybook on Tumblr – go check that out if you haven’t, it’s amazing!!  My episode for that project was 5x04 “Broken Kingdom”, and within that framework, I wanted to imagine how Killian might have tried to help comfort a sleepless Emma as she fought the darkness within. The title is taken from a line in Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Hope you enjoy!  I’d love – as always – to hear what you think!)

“And by a Sleep We Hope to End the Heartache”

by: @snowbellewells 

           “Lass…Emma… Love, please, you have to stop…” his quiet voice, vibrating with emotion despite its soothing timbre, still somehow managed to slice through the paranoia, the swirling images, and yammering voices roiling inside her skull.  It was the one thing, other than her son’s hopeful, trusting face, which had managed to do so since she had risen from the ominous hatch in the Camelot forest, alone, confused, and the newest Dark One.  Her stride faltered at his plea, her step finally pausing before the window of the castle suite they had been given by Arthur for their accommodation.

            Looking over her shoulder to find his fraught gaze, Emma turned slightly toward the pirate, a glance half exasperation and half desperate need on her conflicted face.  “What do you want from me, Killian?” she whispered tiredly, her shoulders slumping with a weary defeat he had rarely seen from her.  He had no way of knowing that Emma desired nothing so much as to cross the large open chamber and collapse into his arms, as she had a week ago when they’d first found her in the stone circle about to crush Merida’s heart.  His embrace tight around her, his heart beating frantically just under her palm, those few moments had been the only time the riot inside her head had seemed to cease – when she could think clearly, as only herself.  She needed that relief again, and yet she feared letting down her guard, even for a moment’s comfort.  She was barely keeping all the violent, persuasive urges twining through her consciousness at bay, barely keeping all the raw power tingling under her skin from breaking free.  She could not allow herself the peace of Killian’s embrace; rest might let the horrors loose upon them all.

            Her pirate watched her knowingly, his eyes gentle, yet seeing and understanding too much as his discerning gaze studied her from across the room.  Those blue pools of his stare took in the way she vibrated slightly, no matter how she tried to hold still.  He saw the tangled, disheveled fall of her hair – usually more a silky sheet of gold – the strange, rough grey duster she wore, still trailing dirt and dried leaves from the forest floor behind her.  This was his Swan before him yet, but she was in distress and guarded once more, in a way she had finally begun to put in her past – and he experienced a disorienting, long rush of despair at how to help her.  He only knew for certain that he must find a way.

            “Come here, Lass,” he finally murmured, half a directive and half an appeal, as he held out his hand to her from where he sat at the edge of the room’s large canopy bed.

            “Why?” she fired back nervously.  “I’m the Dark One now.  I don’t sleep, remember?”

            The unhinged tone in her voice, as well as the unvarnished bitterness, worried him more than he cared to admit.  Killian hesitated, biting his lip and considering his next words carefully.  His pause only seemed to agitate her further.  Why indeed?  And yet, he could not help but want her near, wish to gather her to his side, run the curve of his hook down her spine, and attempt to soothe her, bring her some measure of comfort, however ineffectual it might prove in the end.

Keep reading

[jennjenn615]

Beautiful. And just so Killian. Doing everything in his power to try and help Emma and keep her on the right path!!!! I love this.

Self-Promo Sunday: “And by a Sleep We Hope to End the Heartache”

(This story was originally written for the second edition of the CS Storybook on Tumblr – go check that out if you haven’t, it’s amazing!!  My episode for that project was 5x04 “Broken Kingdom”, and within that framework, I wanted to imagine how Killian might have tried to help comfort a sleepless Emma as she fought the darkness within. The title is taken from a line in Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Hope you enjoy!  I’d love – as always – to hear what you think!)

“And by a Sleep We Hope to End the Heartache”

by: @snowbellewells 

           “Lass…Emma… Love, please, you have to stop…” his quiet voice, vibrating with emotion despite its soothing timbre, still somehow managed to slice through the paranoia, the swirling images, and yammering voices roiling inside her skull.  It was the one thing, other than her son’s hopeful, trusting face, which had managed to do so since she had risen from the ominous hatch in the Camelot forest, alone, confused, and the newest Dark One.  Her stride faltered at his plea, her step finally pausing before the window of the castle suite they had been given by Arthur for their accommodation.

            Looking over her shoulder to find his fraught gaze, Emma turned slightly toward the pirate, a glance half exasperation and half desperate need on her conflicted face.  “What do you want from me, Killian?” she whispered tiredly, her shoulders slumping with a weary defeat he had rarely seen from her.  He had no way of knowing that Emma desired nothing so much as to cross the large open chamber and collapse into his arms, as she had a week ago when they’d first found her in the stone circle about to crush Merida’s heart.  His embrace tight around her, his heart beating frantically just under her palm, those few moments had been the only time the riot inside her head had seemed to cease – when she could think clearly, as only herself.  She needed that relief again, and yet she feared letting down her guard, even for a moment’s comfort.  She was barely keeping all the violent, persuasive urges twining through her consciousness at bay, barely keeping all the raw power tingling under her skin from breaking free.  She could not allow herself the peace of Killian’s embrace; rest might let the horrors loose upon them all.

            Her pirate watched her knowingly, his eyes gentle, yet seeing and understanding too much as his discerning gaze studied her from across the room.  Those blue pools of his stare took in the way she vibrated slightly, no matter how she tried to hold still.  He saw the tangled, disheveled fall of her hair – usually more a silky sheet of gold – the strange, rough grey duster she wore, still trailing dirt and dried leaves from the forest floor behind her.  This was his Swan before him yet, but she was in distress and guarded once more, in a way she had finally begun to put in her past – and he experienced a disorienting, long rush of despair at how to help her.  He only knew for certain that he must find a way.

            “Come here, Lass,” he finally murmured, half a directive and half an appeal, as he held out his hand to her from where he sat at the edge of the room’s large canopy bed.

            “Why?” she fired back nervously.  “I’m the Dark One now.  I don’t sleep, remember?”

            The unhinged tone in her voice, as well as the unvarnished bitterness, worried him more than he cared to admit.  Killian hesitated, biting his lip and considering his next words carefully.  His pause only seemed to agitate her further.  Why indeed?  And yet, he could not help but want her near, wish to gather her to his side, run the curve of his hook down her spine, and attempt to soothe her, bring her some measure of comfort, however ineffectual it might prove in the end.

Keep reading

[jrob64]

🥹🥹🥹

Self-Promo Sunday: “Dark Swan, Hot Chocolate”

Well friends, I’m a little late getting this posted this week, but I wanted to revisit this little early 5a one shot - a missing Swan Believer moment that I would have loved to see when they returned from Camelot to Storybrooke. There’s art now too, so hopefully the whole product will bring a bit of warmth and a little smile. It can still be found as a chapter in my collection of various one shots, “Of Swans and Swords and Hopeful Hearts”, on either AO3 or ff.net, if that is your preference. There are numerous other fics where this came from in that collection. 

Summary: Standing alone outside Granny’s Diner, while all of those she loves are gathering inside without her, Emma feels the true weight of what taking on the Darkness has cost her. But there’s one special person who can still bring an offering that reaches her, no matter how dark and cold the night might feel…

“Dark Swan, Hot Chocolate”

by: @snowbellewells

She stands alone outside the packed diner, huddled into the long, black duster she wears over her equally dark dress, futilely trying to ward off the chill autumn air. Unfortunately, the effort is wasted when the cold comes from within her as well, wrapping subtly around her heart. Cozy, bright lights and the hum of chatter from her gathered family, former friends and allies, emanate in a soft glow from the windows of the little inn and restaurant, piercing the night.

The woman once known as Emma Swan, now the self-proclaimed Dark One, impassively watches those within mingling, laughing, and embracing. If a person didn’t know the tiniest nuance of her face, she would look unaffected, waiting for the best time to make her next move. However, as her thin frame, buffeted by the wind at her back, leans forward slightly, a hint of the yearning within her peeps through the harsh, immovable veneer. The former lost girl who had almost – finally ¬– found her home nearly shows through the frosted, severe hair and barely glimmering pale skin for a moment, aching desperately to take a step closer, to be back inside, within the warmth of love and light, once more a part of something.

The Darkness slides back in smoothly, quickly, before Emma’s human longing can fully take hold, purring with the thrilling tingle of so much magic at her fingertips, whispering that she does not need any of them. ‘Look at them, going right on without you…’ the insidious voice in her head reminds, until Emma finally recedes once more and it is the icy, impervious new magical villain who turns and begins to walk away – a solitary black shape against the backdrop of the dark, deserted street.

Keep reading