#coming out of retirement for this post lads

[inhidingxoxo3637]

[mythicmanuscripts]

ok listen I’m gonna need more sensitive sub!jace. Like right now. Immediately. I am just in awe I love this concept so much. can you maybe discuss how the first time having actual sex would go? I feel like maybe it’s something Jace would try to warn you about again before you have sex?

I am so glad we are gaining more members of the sensitive!jace agenda!!!

NSFW sub!jace under the cut :))

So for any lads who missed my last Jace post: I wrote about Jace cumming from grinding against your thigh before the wedding. He cums in his clothes and then almost instantly he’s so sensitive and overwhelmed because the fabric touching his cock is too much. You have to help him walk to the bed and gently take his pants off for him while he whines and shakes. He’s too sensitive to even clean himself yet. When you return from putting his clothes away he’s crying, getting hit hard by the endorphin drop he always experiences after he cums. You climb into bed with him, holding him tight until he drifts off to sleep and then sneak back into your own room so no one finds out.

After that incident, I think Jace would start to avoid you actually? Cause yeah you helped him, but he thinks that’s just because you’re a good person. He’s convinced that if he does come face to face with you, you’ll call off the wedding or call him pathetic or demand he tells his mother to marry him to another.

And he doesn’t want that!! He really really doesn’t. Cause as much as he was overwhelmed and sensitive, it still felt so good in the moment and honestly, he really loved having you take care of him? Once you pulled him into your arms, he stopped feeling so shaky and scared and he fell asleep so easily.

He would love to have that again, to have that every night in fact but he’s so certain you’re disgusted with him now.

So in all honesty he’s a little shocked when you actually arrive to the wedding and play your part and kiss him when it’s over. You keep a hold of his hand the entire evening, because you fear if you let go then he’ll disappear again. You had wanted to give him enough space to come back to you on his own time, but he’s ran out of time now, you’re married now.

The two of you retire to your new shared living quarters early, and poor side is flustered and nervous from the moment the door closes behind you two.

You ask him what happened, ask him if you somehow made him uncomfortable and he immediately assures you that you didn’t. You ask why he hasn’t spoken to you after that night then, and that’s when he says that he thought you wouldn’t want to be with him anymore.

When you tell him that you loved every second of it, including caring for him. You say that you’re his wife now, and it’s your job to keep those parts of him protected and safe. You would be honoured to have that privilege.

Which… poor Jace doesn’t even know what to say to that so he just kisses you and clings to you because the knowledge that his wife actually wants that side of him is too much for him. Brain off, no more Jace, only pretty wife.

Things get heated, because of course they do and pretty soon Jace pulls away and warns you. He’s panting hard and blushing even harder and stumbling over his words as he tries to explain that he always get that’s sensitive after he finishes and he always feels that sadness afterwards and that he thinks it might be even worse than normal for his first time actually having sex.

In that moment you promise yourself that you will always protect him. This soft, sweet side of him must be kept safe always.

Because Jace is well, Jace, he of course wants to please you. He wants you to feel good too!! Of course he does.

But he has no idea how because honestly he doubts he’ll manage to last long enough for that and he certainly can’t give you anything after he cums.

You tentatively suggest oral sex and Jace’s eyes just light up. Instantly he’s so so on board. A way to make you feel good with no risk of him cumming too soon and ruining the ensure mood? Incredible.

You have to direct him of course.

At first you say you can lay on the bed and Jace can lay on his tummy been your legs, but then Jace blushes even harder and looks away and eventually mumbles, “The… the linen against me might be too much…”

Which… yeah it’s official you’d die for him.

You end up sitting on the comfortable armchair that faces the bed while Jace kneels in front of you. He follows your every instruction and honestly he has the time of his life. This is genuinely better than actually cumming for him. He’s utterly obsessed. He can hear you moan and say his name and tell him how well he’s doing and he’s truly on cloud 9. He would like to never leave the space between your thighs ever again. He’s just gonna camp out here from now on.

The poor thing actually whines and protests when you pull him away. He’s already given you two orgasms but he’s not done!!! He wants more!! Jace would never be greedy about his own pleasure, but this? He’s an absolute glutton about this.

You have to pull him by his hair and tell him that you’re getting too sensitive. He understands of course and would never disobey you, but he does make it very clear that he wishes to do more.

Then the actual sex happens. Jace is, of course, rock hard when you remove his clothes. He’s been hard ever since you suggested he eat you out but honestly he hadn’t even noticed, he was too absorbed in making you feel good.

Trying to work out the right position takes a moment, because as much as you would love to ride the fuck out of him, you’re uncertain if it’s the best because you’d be sitting directly on his cock after he cums and that might be too much for in.

So you suggest missionary, because Jace can easily pull out whenever. When you explain this line of thought, Jace kinda just lets out a broken sob and kisses you again. He can’t believe how lucky he is.

And god, watching his face when he enters you? You’ll never be the same again.

His face scrunches up for a moment and then slackens as he tries to take some steady breaths. He sheaths himself fully in you, and then kinda just stays there for a moment and tries not to immediately lose it.

You direct his head towards you and kiss him softly until he’s ready to move.

And he’s so slow with it? Honestly you don’t even try to get him to speed up because the view you’re getting is insane. Pretty soon he’s shaking and crying and mumbling that he’s close.

You haven’t cum yet, but you didn’t expect to. He made you cum twice earlier, and now all you really want is to see him fall apart. He whines and shakes his head when he hears this, because he doesn’t like the idea of you not cumming again but at the same time the poor thing can barely hold himself together.

In the end, you pull his head down, kiss his neck and then whisper that he can eat his own cum out of you once he’s done.

And well, he’s done. Absolutely no way he could fight it after hearing that. He gasps out a sound that is similar to your name and buries himself fully on you. You can feel the little bucks of his hips as he empties himself and then just prompt collapses.

You kiss his cheeks, telling him he was perfect and then telling him to quickly pull out before he gets too sensitive. Of course he’s already too sensitive, but he manages to quickly pull out and collapse next to you. He slowly rolls onto his back and pants, looking at you with nothing but love and adoration as tries to calm down again.

You brush his hair off his forehead, his entire body is covered in a slight sheen of sweat and his thighs are still shaking a little. You end up sitting up against the headboard and gently pulling him into your lap. His head rests on your lap and he just breathes for a little bit, pressing kisses to your tummy every now and then and eventually lifting his hand up to show you that he wants you to hold it.

When he’s clearly starting to recover a little more, you start talking.

“That feel good?” You ask him, your voice light and loving. Of course you already know the answer, but you just want to give him some sweet loving teasing as he slowly comes back.

He hums in response and presses more kisses to your tummy.

You see tears start to form in his eyes and you quickly wipe them away as they fall, telling him that you couldn’t be happier with how he performed. He was absolutely perfect for you.

He actually manages to feel a lot better a lot quicker which he really didn’t expect. But he supposes it makes sense, he’s not on his own as his endorphins drop, he’s practically being petted.

You just about think he’s fallen asleep when he opens his eyes again and gives you a lazy smile.

“Can I do it now?” He asks, smiling.

“Do what?” You ask.

“You said I could go down on you again. Can I do it now? Please?” You chuckle, because you honestly didn’t expect him to even remember that.

“Please?” He whines again, pouting when you don’t respond immediately. What you realise then is that while Jace will get all sad and weepy and uncomfortable when left on his own after he cums, when you’re there to help him he kinda just turns into a softer, needier version of himself?

And well, there’s certainly no need to deny him.

[bonefall]

Favorite rewritten scene from TPB? Any scenes you think would fuck if they were animated? Dont worry why im asking its not important <3

Hmmmm....

Well, BB!TPB is probably the least changed arc to begin with! Better Bones is a project that is basically trying to deliver on the themes I liked in the first 5 books; a flawed society is on the verge of birthing a great monster, a reckoning generations in the making, which can only be saved by the very outcasts their culture seeks to destroy.

So I'm not adding too much to it which isn't just building up the culture some more, adding personality to some background characters (especially mollies), or shoring up cats in ShadowClan.

I've got an old post floating around somewhere about my goals and a basic summary for each book, but here's a MASSIVE ramble about things I plan to add

The three MAJOR cool scenes in here though?

Rusty's Collar

Deerfoot's Sabotauge

Scourge's Collar

Into the Wild: Opening stuff, ThunderClan expansions, Rusty's Collar

For one, DAPPLETAIL has a much bigger role as Firepaw's first teacher. Rusty speaks Townmew; he needs to learn Clanmew.

So I might make the meeting with Graypaw earlier, or just have a bit more of a transitional period where he's "living with a paw in both worlds" before he gets named Firepaw

He also is able to see and take part in some of the Expanded Roles, while still learning Clanmew.

Frostfur is Head of Kitchen Patrol, pregnant, and overworked. Rusty likes her though, he can't always tell what she's saying but he learns she calls him the "Intense Gingerthing (affectionate)" and she's got cool scars

Tigerclaw might be Head of Hunting, or his cousin Willowpelt. Undecided yet; Willowpelt will be taking over after he becomes deputy though.

I forgor who is Construction Head at the moment, probably Mousefur. In any case it's a molly, One-eye has been retired for a long while.

Dappletail is the Educator, naturally, and she hangs out with Ravenpaw and her son Graypaw. Ravenpaw has a habit of telling tall tales.

The adult he's closest to though? Spottedleaf, the Cleric, like a big sister.

IMPORTANT: Rusty's time as a not-apprentice comes to a hard end with his battle against Longtail. Probably because he now understands enough Clanmew to know he's talking shit.

This time though, we're setting up some foreshadowing lads

Unlike other depictions of the collar removal where it's framed like the triumphant moment he enters the Clans, with a beam of sunlight revealing to Bluestar that he is the cat of great prophecy, his collar being snapped off comes with trembling fury and anxiety

He was terrified and angry in that moment! He's been bullied by Longtail, it just came to physical blows, and he was being choked by his collar digging into his throat so he couldn't breathe. When it suddenly SNAPS, he's hacking and coughing, but the whole Clan is cheering at the spectacle, it's like...

He's being told he's just proved himself. The joy of finally getting what he's really wanted, of landing a mark on his bully and being CELEBRATED for it, it starts to wash away the fear and fury.

It's sudden, like whiplash. He's trembling, he's growling, he's smiling. His stomach is rolling and he doesn't know which emotion is turning it.

Then, his collar is buried. He only sees it out of the corner of his eye, Dappletail (someone he likes) digging a little hole and dropping it in. Like getting rid of something dirty. He can't identify the emotion that prickles his heart in that moment, and to his dying day he never learns the word for it.

But it's going to be the same thing he feels, much much later, after the roar of the BloodClan battle has gone quiet and he's staring at the collar he ripped off Scourge. He spared the leader's life and caused the group to retreat... but, looking at that collar, so lovingly studded with trophies not unlike the ivory Clan cats take from boar hunts...

He realizes that it's meaningful. To Scourge. He can't go far enough to admit that his own collar meant something to him... but...

it would be wrong to just discard this. This emotion drives him to eventually approach Scourge and BloodClan again, in the Epilogue, returning the collar as a gift of goodwill and re-opening discussion about Tigerstar's Impossible Deal. These talks open up a new era of peace and trading between Chelford and the White Hart, until TNP brings it to a tragic end.

But anyway!

Ally Expansions + Deerfoot's Sabotage

In an effort to establish that the Clans have unique subcultures, and that the cats within them are unique individuals, BB!TPB needs more positive supporting cast in more than just WindClan.

GATHERINGS NOW HAVE AFTERGATHERINGS. This is like a discreet afterparty, which adult warriors can choose to attend by simply staying behind when their leadership returns home.

Fireheart regularly attends them until the moment he becomes leader.

A few of his friends in other Clans are Aftergathering regulars. Onewhisker, Mosspelt, Wetfoot.

Some others are just occasional visitors. Mistyfoot is brought along by her sis-in-law, Mosspelt, once or twice. Morningflower comes to do some trades.

(at his FIRST aftergathering he gets to meet Carpwhisker and Cinderfur. These two are noted to stop coming when the political tides harden.)

Because this is the Thistle Era, the Aftergathering is much smaller than it will be in a few generations.

They're also still careful to not leak too much information outside of their own Clans, and the ShadowClan cats are even particularly excited at Fireheart's first Aftergathering because it was difficult to regularly attend these while Brokenstar was leader.

DEERFOOT is a MUCH expanded character. Son of Lizardstripe, brother of Runningnose and Tangleburr, Deerfoot is involved in opposing both Brokenstar, and later NIGHTSTAR when he feels he's going against what Deerfoot fought so hard for.

And, most famously and most fatally, he's the head of the TigerClan Rebels.

Much as I like Ravenpaw... he's not getting his cameo at Stonefur's execution. No, I'm not going to be having the HalfClan cats rescued by Graystripe's bad feeling and also Ravenpaw is there. Freeing the prisoners was an action that came from WITHIN TigerClan.

Deerfoot is going to be beseeching Firestar for it. I haven't figured out EXACTLY how yet, but I'm thinking that it's after Darkstripe was exiled (suddenly, Tigerstar no longer has a mole in ThunderClan) and he's able to ask for Firestar's help openly and honestly, and tell him how many cats will need refuge if the plan is successful.

Being leader now, and not JUST a deputy, Firestar has to consider the way it might drag his Clan into conflict with a huge opponent... which Deerfoot assures won't happen, because his forces have a process. Using ochre and onion, they obscure themselves completely. Not a single one's been caught-- besides the ones who were picked up for the "crime" of being HalfClan.

Deerfoot is going to be killed for what he does here, saving so many lives. So he won't pay for the little trick he's going to pull.

While applying Firestar's ochre and onion, just before entering the camp to rescue the HalfClan cats (and finding they've started an execution early-- with Stonefur), Deerfoot draws back to look at his handiwork. Not a single fleck of his bright, unmistakable orange fur is peaking through his disguise.

So he clicks his tongue, "I've missed a spot." With a rub of his paw, the ochre around the ThunderClan leader's eyes is smudged. Just enough that anyone locking with those green eyes would see the fire poking out from beneath.

Later, when Firestar learns of this after Deerfoot's death... he chuckles with equal parts bitterness and admiration. Most of Deerfoot's Rebels had to go right back to living in TigerClan, and knowing Firestar was leading the battle patrol would take suspicion off them... but, knowing his old, lost ally... a bigger part of it was that Deerfoot was hoping that information would reach Tigerstar and BURN into him.

Compassionate and spiteful to the last, that Deerfoot.

Darkest Hour: BloodClan and Scourge's Collar

I think if I was going to rename the individual books, I'd call the last book of BB!TPB "The Moment of Truth."

BloodClan is keeping the way that it's not important until the last book. Aside from an offhanded mention here and there and a run-in with some peons that replace the rats that attack Bluestar, they're not relevant until the moment they're introduced.

I do want to keep how SURPRISING it was to see them suddenly roll up, keep that feeling that they're brutal, unsettling, foreign. When Tigerstar loses his shit on Scourge for not following his order and attempts to kill him, I want to keep how cold, sudden, and BRUTAL that ending was.

But... when Scourge FIRST appears on screen, he looks much different from the Iceheart he will eventually become. He begins to look less "monstrous" and more like a PERSON as Firestar realizes that they're not so different.

Scourge has no pupils at first. His eyes are solid, icy blue.

He also has no mouth when he isn't about to bite, no lip synch when he talks. Like he's just existing ominously onscreen, wind ruffling his spiky, ungroomed fur.

Before the killing of Tigerstar, it's noted that Scourge's speech is odd, and hard to understand. But, you can sort of make out his intent if you listen carefully.

Firestar recognizes that he is speaking Townmew, his own first language.

Tigerstar doesn't really respect him enough to listen, until he barks an order and Scourge tells him, "...My cats move when I command them, and not before."

Like canon, Firestar steps forward to speak with Scourge. Unlike canon, he very intentionally begins speaking Townmew.

ALSO like canon, when Firestar explains Tigerstar's crimes, that he will never honor any bargains he has made, and thus that they can't be trusted, he rolls that Nat20 and Scourge tells him that there will be no battle today as he thinks about this new information.

And, of course, Tigerstar lost his marbles about this. And also his organs

And Scourge is SEETHING. That's his LAST straw. He made a deal and he is NOT being given what he is owed, he tried to gracefully walk away only for Tigerstar to disrespect him for the last time, and he's SICK. AND. TIRED. Of backstabbing, DISHONORABLE CLAN CATS.

And YET. He remains cool. And he tells Firestar directly, "In light of this, I have changed my mind. We will be taking what we are owed. You have three days to leave, or it will come to combat."

Another big change from canon is that no Clan needs to be convinced to fight. It's a battle culture. They were ALWAYS going to win, or die in glorious combat. Running away is not an option in this era-- they believe their eternal reward is up in StarClan.

But Firestar CAN unite them, bring them together to discuss battle plans. And in this first day...

TigerClan is dismantled. Though Leopardstar tries to cling to her newfound leadership of TigerClan; both Shadow and River are clearly tense and demoralized. Anxious and snappish warriors are mulling about the camp.

and STILL, Firestar is dealing with a bunch of cats who are openly disrespecting him.

Even when he reminds them, "YOU brought him to the Forest! Tigerstar's deal was HALF our land and I could pull LionClan out at any time! I'm trying to HELP YOU"

Darkstripe in particular is still here with his little xenophobic jabs. And he is Xenophobic Jabbering.

In spite of the guilt Leopardstar feels, and the resentment that Blackfoot is starting to feel for Tigerstar and the position he's being thrust into, they're still DIFFICULT, not giving Firestar clear answers about if they're going to come talk battle strategies or not.

Firestar can't believe this.

They're really gonna do this. Say that TigerClan can take care of its own problems.

They're just gonna try and hold onto their scraps of pride and charge into battle, NO plan, because they think they're above him.

After ALL OF THIS, EVERYTHING thats happened, the times they've fought and he's won, becoming deputy, even earning the authority of a leader...

They're STILL not taking him seriously.

This prompts Firestar to end up losing it, the "I saw what you did to Stonefur" speech to Blackstar is moved here, addressed to BOTH of them.

But this time, there's even MORE victims. He lists ALL of them, plus the refugees still in his camp.

And they're gonna kill even MORE cats? What? To be the smuggest corpses in the GROUND?

OR MAYBE THE HAPPIEST LITTLE SKULLS ON THEIR STUPID HILL.

It SHUTS them up.

Leopardstar, in particular, clearly haunted by this... her own father, Mudfur, is one of those refugees. And she is staring intently at some of the bones on the hill.

Unfortunately, her remorse will not stick. Distance will make Blackstar more ashamed, but Leopardstar begins to look back with nostalgia.

But FOR NOW? It MATTERS.

Darkstripe comes in with another little comment, and she snaps at him.

Then she turns back on the Bonehill, and says the, "This belongs to a darker time" line.

Firestar also ends up visiting with Barley Sr, Jr, and Ravenpaw. Chatting about reasons why Ravenpaw still doesn't want to come back, even though Tigerstar is gone.

And about BloodClan, as Barley Senior comes from there. Bone is his mother (though due to some timeline things I'm considering her being his sister; and then Hoot and Jumper are littermates OR cousins of Junior.)

Ends up explaining a bit about the history, how it was formed because of Oakstar, the context of the descendant of Oakstar turning on Scourge like that

Plus why Barley Sr left. His time as a solver, the death of Violet Sr, the way BloodClan demands tribute to keep its cats fed.

And while BloodClan has issues... Firestar is realizing... so do the Clans.

Violence, blood feuds, war... xenophobia. He's still seething over that exchange from earlier.

Firestar's anxious over the big fight, and the people he knows he will lose. GOOD people. The battle won't discern the crackerjacks from the jackasses; people he loves will die. He HAS to win. And yet, his feelings towards Scourge feel frustratingly conflicted.

On the second day...

Finally he's getting somewhere with the other four Clans. Everyone's preparing properly, learning how to fight TOGETHER and not just as four separate entities.

But in ShadowClan, he catches POISONS. Runningnose and Blackfoot are planning to go into battle using the same tactics they used against WindClan-- things that won't kill right away, but will cause inevitable infection and kill slowly, and painfully.

And they're showing OTHERS about it, too.

And this UPSETS Firestar

But, AGAIN, he's able to talk to them. They have a point-- if BloodClan is going to use those claw-weapons, they ALSO have an unfair advantage.

Firestar, about to invent Rules of Engagement: "If they weren't going to use them though?"

That's how Firestar ended up in a british back alley. Meeting with BloodClan.

Scourge is cold and polite, as always, makes a comment about him being early.

Firestar tells him about the poisons, how he's seen them be used before, and how they will kill slowly,

Scourge is torn... at first, thinking it might be a lie, but then the shock of what might happen sets in. He asks, "and why would you warn us about this?"

"Because it's the right thing to do. We're fighting for our home and you're fighting for your promise; It should be a fair fight."

"which means you're reigning them in, then?"

Nods, "If you use the claw extenders, they're going to use an unfair advantage of their own"

As they dig deeper into the conversation, Scourge loses his patience.

"Enough. I've heard enough lies from Clan cats, forest fool. You untrustworthy lot NEVER uphold your end of the bargain, you come here to weaken us but we will not be tricked by a dishonorable foe ever again."

It's starting to hit Firestar now. Scourge... is kinda right.

He's RIGHT to be so distrustful of Clan cats. To think they're dishonorable. He's seen them all himself; liars, hypocrites, cowards, all of them allowing EVIL things to be done to innocent cats.

The pause seems to last days, but it's clear to Scourge he's thinking deeply about what he said.

When Firestar looks up he tells him, "I understand. But I am honorable."

Scourge laughs at that. The whole alley does.

But he stands firm. He will uphold HIS end. "And when you come tomorrow, you will see that I've held my people to it."

"Then you're a greater fool than I thought, weakening yourself."

"Tigerstar believed that honor made us weak," he says with defiance, "and you killed him. I buried him. Now he is dead; don't choose to keep his memory alive."

AND ON THE THIRD AND LAST DAY

When they all come to face off at Fourtrees, it is seen, most of BloodClan is not wearing their extenders.

And most of the Clan cats do not have deathberry-red claws.

There are just some. On both sides.

Scourge is not one of them. His claws are his own

Fire and Scourge step foward in the center, their armies behind them.

Scourge quietly points out the irony in a hushed tone, for what he is about to say could have offended either army;

"Two fools, alike in their dignity. Perhaps in another time we would have been Brothers-in-Honor, you and I."

Brother-in-Honor = Townmew term for someone who unites you through a shared, noble cause.

But Firestar is done. He had to say goodbye to many of his cats this morning, he doesn't know who will live and who will die. The Warriors stand behind him, proud and noble, but terrified to their core. He knows this.

This is their HOME. And he is the holy leader of ThunderClan, bearing the fragment of a star within him.

He's lost his patience, and his sympathy. When he responds, it's loud enough for both armies to hear. (Note: Ever so slightly performative)

"Last chance, Scourge! One step further, and you'll meet the full might of the Warrior Clans."

"Two fools," the little cat laments, "One far more foolish than the other!"

He screeches for BloodClan to attack, and like canon, Firestar loses track of Scourge in the torrent of angry cats

Battle otherwise goes very similar to canon. Out of left field, Darkstripe turns on Firestar with deathberry-red claws, furious and embarassed that he took Tigerstar away and prevented them all from fighting with "every advantage"

Graystripe. One-Man Firestar Defense Squad, body checks him and kills him, trembling in disbelief and immediate regret over his brother's body

Whitestorm loses his fight with Bone and falls, bleeding, to the ground

As he dies, he tells Firestar to let go of his grudges. He was wronged, he was hurt, but please don't let that stop him from making the right choice. Longtail should be deputy.

Firestar announces Longtail is his deputy right there.

The apprentices dogpile Bone in revenge, though I also wouldn't mind changing it. In any case, Bone's dead before Willowpelt can even realize her mate is gone

When he finally sees Scourge again, they grapple ferociously until the little cat breaks loose

Trying to avoid the grallocking move that ended Tigerstar in a blow and not knowing Scourge can't do that without his claw extenders, he pulls back and leaves himself wide open for a vicious transverse slash

He's split open from neck to arm, he can feel himself bleeding out

Scourge looks at him with pity but says nothing, flicking his claws like he's wicking the blood from a sword.

Game_Over.png

Firestar's vision fades into flashing stars and bursts into the silver-and-blue lights of StarClan

He sees the faces of everyone who he's lost, everyone he couldn't save. Spottedleaf who died in a raid. Stonefur whose execution came too soon. Pikepaw who refused to take refuge with his mother. That old bastard Deerfoot. Whitestorm whose blood is replaced with fresh stars.

Yellowfang comes forward, threading constellations like stitches through his gash, snipping at him to stop wriggling like a worm. Spottedleaf is also helping in a way he doesn't understand, licking his fur the wrong way and returning his lost blood like a Mi returns warmth to a cold kitten.

He smiles, filled with the wonderful sensation of a Sharing of Stars, until it hits him again that he needs to go back

Hmm.. maybe ill have it so Whitestorm had no last words and he gives them here. "Don't let the grudges of the past ruin the future. Make the choices you know are right."

Bring the theme together; he was talking about Longtail, but Firestar interprets it differently.

And when he wakes up in his body, gash aching but skillfully closed by the best healers he ever knew, he feels like they filled his veins with a lion's blood.

He grins, a mixture of humor and righteous fury. He didn't know Scourge's tricks, but he doesn't know HIS either.

Scourge has his back turned, focused on Onewhisker who's cowering in front of him. Firestar bowls into him, catching him off guard

"You! You died! I killed you!"

"I played dead."

With a second bolt of strength, Scourge tries to turn it around and they tumble, hissing and spitting, but the little cat doesn't get a second chance

He's pinned like prey, one paw holding his head and the other pulling down his shoulder, growling like an animal with its neck exposed for a brutal killing bite

Firestar lunges down and Scourge screeches, a horrible crack of teeth on bone quiets the battlefield

And then a SNAP

The sun glimmers on the bloodstained collar's fangs, one of the teeth cracked by Firestar's jaws, as he throws it behind him

Scourge's face is truly apparent to Firestar for the first time, his icy eyes wide with astonishment

Firestar recites the beautiful words that had once been made hollow by hypocrisy, "A true warrior does NOT need kill to win their battles," but he presses his paw into Scourge's pulse as a warning, "DO they?!"

He lifts his paw, and Scourge calls for BloodClan to retreat

Though the warriors are shocked at first, they saw his collar ripped off and his black fur soaked in his own blood, and understood they were losing

Just as united as any Forest Four following the command of a leader, each warrior disentangled as quickly as possible and streamed out behind their bolting leader

Some warriors ran after them to chase them out, and came back a few minutes later

And just like that, it was over. They were gone.

But, that collar is laying there, in the light of the setting sun. The inner fabric is purple, covered in a layer of red and brown from a mix of fresh and dry blood. Various teeth poke through, which he now realizes are from various predators.

Firestar gazes at it and feels Rusty's heart beating. He has that strange, indescribable feeling again.

It's... just like Clan cat hunting trophies, yes. It's a valuable, meaningful object to Scourge. It's a spoil of war made of spoils of war. That's why it's stirring his chest, surely. There's something... deeper to this item. It shouldn't be discarded; this item needs to be kept safe.

Or, perhaps, returned.

From there, the epilogue is gravy. When Firestar arrives in the alley again, this time flanked by several cats, Scourge is still recovering from his many injuries. He feels like he's been seeing Firestar's face too often-- and then the collar is gently placed on the ground.

Just like Firestar expected, there's an energy that washes over the gathered cats, and even the unreadable Scourge now seems awestruck by the gesture. The collar was something greater than just a collar; though Firestar couldn't remember if he had ever been told what a BloodClan collar represented.

Speaking, again, in Townmew, he explains that Tigerstar made Scourge an Impossible Deal, which the treacherous tyrant never meant to honor in the first place. But he is dead. BloodClan cannot have the territory and the Clan cats have won it fairly-- but what CAN we do for you? What were you seeking?

The answer was so simple that it was almost sickening. That they'd come to blows, and cats had died, over something that could have been worked out so easily. BloodClan had plenty of food from the humans' excess and hunting in the wilderness was not a skill they ever had anyway. What they wanted was materials.

Wood. Flowers and herbs. A chance to walk along the hiking trail and see the giant trees. Maybe the occasional piece of prey they didn't have access to in the town, like squirrels and frogs.

So, for a while. There was peace in the Forest, bringing the Tiger Era to a definitive close and beginning the fruitful, but short-lived Fire Era.

So! Them's the major changes. Take your pick of the scene you think is coolest, personally I've got a thing for Firestar ripping off Scourge's collar.

[octuscle]

CHAVTF - Dan and Dick

Richard was excited to see his son Daniel's new apartment. Daniel had moved out of his home in Mayfair a few weeks ago. For his work, the Eastend was better located. And Mayfair was indeed nothing for young people by now. Richard himself was considering moving away. He was now retired, and his wife had been dead for over a year. Perhaps a change of scenery would not be wrong.

The inspection of the new apartment did not take long. Small, functional. And still full of moving boxes. So Daniel suggested going to dinner at one of the nearby restaurants. Richard agreed. He was starting to get hungry. They had been walking for a few minutes when, completely unexpectedly, a heavy downpour came down. Although they quickly took cover under a tree, they were soaked to the bone. And then a huge amount of bird droppings slapped down on them. Their clothes were ruined.

Richard laughed. "It's all no drama. There's another store up ahead, we can get a dry and clean jacket there." Daniel hesitantly countered that this wasn't Savile Row, but Richard said they'd find something appropriate for dinner in the East End. They entered CHAVTF. A small store, crowded and not very clear. At the cash register at the entrance sat a young man with a shaved head, playing with his cell phone. When he saw Richard and Daniel, he began to grin. And a large wet spot formed in his crotch from the precum. "Oi mates, you looking for something dry? There are two changing rooms up ahead, strip down and I'll bring you something." Richard and Daniel found the approach a bit odd, but followed the request. The locker rooms smelled musty, the floor wasn't particularly clean, and strangest of all was the large hole in the partitions at belt height.

"You lads prefer boxers with those big dicks of yours, don't you?" " You bet your ass I do," Daniel replied. "Here you go. Aren't really Calvin Klein, but good quality." Richard pulled on the shorts. He massaged his cock. Felt really massive. "And here are socks. Size 12 should fit." The two put on the white athletic socks. They immediately got dirty on the greasy floor. "Tell me mates! Are you guys brothers? You look a bit alike." "Fuck, yeah," Daniel replied. "Here are some jeans. See if you like them. And who's the older of you?" Richard pulled up his pants. He'd never worn ripped jeans before. But they felt great. And they sat so low on his hips that you could still read the Calvin Klein lettering super. That's how he'd imagined it. "The older one is me, mate," Richard said. "But only three months. We're half-brothers. Dad screwed anything that couldn't run away fast enough." Dan replied that Richard's mother, however, had also been a whore who had let everyone have it. "You got it, bro! Your mom's not a whore, of course. And where did all your brothers and sisters come from?" replied Dick.

"Here's two cool pairs of shoes. Let's take a look, mates," the store attendant said, pulling the curtains aside. Dan and Dick grinned and posted for fun. "Wow, your training is paying off, Mates! You both box welterweight?" "Nah," Dick said. "I'm a lightweight. But I'm working on it. The goal is middleweight already." "You guys are probably going out clubbing today. T-shirts for clubbing?" Dan said they were going to get drinks at the gas station first. And then maybe to the pub. But T-shirt is fine." The store attendant tossed them two black T-shirts. Dan and Dick put them on and took out their chains. They were quiet for everyone to see. "Why aren't you both inked, anyway? Your tattoos are really coming along!" Dick stroked his neck and arm. Yes, he was really proud of them, but they had cost a lot of money. And Dan just had to save up a little bit of money, then he would surely get a tattoo.

Fortunately, they had collected a lot of money today. The two fine toffs Dan and Dick had stolen the coats from had been carrying a lot of cash. "Mates, the jackets really go with your outfit. Can't nobody tell they're not Moncler." The two put the jackets on. The pal was right. They looked awesome! "Mates, did you want to earn a £100 discount on the clothes. If one of you blows the other in the booth through the glory hole and I can use the video on Tiktok, everything together will only cost 50 pounds. Dick tossed a swiped credit card to the store attendant. "We'll pay by card, but we'll do it for 100 pounds cash."

Once the two were back outside, Dick had to light a fag. Dan still had the taste of Dick's cum in his mouth and declined, grinning. "Not until after the next beer. Your spunk tastes like shit." "And yours tastes like piss!"

[babytarttdoodoo]

you said in your post about Roy/Jamie after canon that you have thouhts on Jamie's career soo....? Care to share? ;)

Ahaha when I tell you I've thought more about football in the last month than I have since I was 7 because of this.

Alrighty, usual disclaimers of not being an expert apply. You can read the Roy/Jamie post referenced here.

Jamie ends the series aged 25 (allowing for a bit of tv timey-wimey-ness) and has played two full seasons at Richmond. I believe he'd stay for at least two more and start considering outside offers at 27.

He'd want to stay in London or at least fairly close. Jamie will definitely not want to lose out on seeing the lads regularly and, of course, he wants to be with Roy. (All of the players who were at Richmond under Ted's tenure are going to be dedicated to remaining Friends For Life lbh. Transfers be damned.)

Chelsea is the obvious choice. If nothing else, Roy's name still carries a lot of respect there and he probably remained in touch with people at the club. Either they can discreetly let one or two in on their relationship, or Roy can at least keep tabs on Jamie professionally.

They're also a big, successful club that has the resources to develop Jamie even further as a player.

(His first game playing against Richmond is the most fun he's had on a pitch in years. They all try being pricks to him and are Bad at it.)

So, he gives Chelsea four seasons. Then his contract is up for negotiation and he gets a huge offer from a European club - I'm leaning towards Barcelona.

He's very torn about taking the offer but the fact his life didn't come crumbling down after leaving Richmond helps give him the confidence to go for it. Also, with Champions League fixtures, he will still be crossing paths with Roy and his friends during the season. He's 31 now and isn't sure if he'll get that kind of offer again.

Roy does not want him to go. He also does not want to hold him back. This is one of the roughest times in their relationship.

Jamie is playing phenomenally but the homesickness takes a toll. He's living between countries season to season, even a small time difference makes communication with Roy and his mum difficult, and returning to train with the England team every year drives home how much he misses the pitches he's known most of his life.

He makes a transfer request after the 2030 World Cup.

Jamie has always intended to retire at 35, before his body makes the decision for him. And he wants to finish his career at Nelson Road.

(I realise this is earlier than he would realistically have to without serious injury. I also think at this point Jamie is very secure in his worth outside of football and has seen too many players - including Roy - lose their love of the game to pain and resentment.)

In the end, he plays three more seasons with Richmond because he just can't resist it. Aged 36, he announces he will be hanging up his boots and walks away a legend.

[cyncerity]

Hes just a funky gunky lad what can anyone say :/

Let him cause all of the chaos (im a bit on end with streamer slime because whAT IS HE ON HE CANT DO THAT TO ME)

his little fnaf vr stunt was unappreciated (my mental state could not handle him retiring rn)

anyway no i love him so much you do not understand

anyway i’m also gonna use your ask as an excuse to post these Dad’s Troubles AU doodles i made forever ago cause i totally forgot they existed

gave him a bit of a redesign <3

hopefully the story with him is coming out soon cause if there’s anyone who can break me out of a writers block it’s gotta be my boy Charlie from the Dads Troubles AU (or the Flubber AU as that’s what i’ve also been working on the most recently)

[materialtintin]

so. I wrote a haddotin drabble solely based on this image n I couldnt decide where to post it but I'm gonna put it under read more here and then maybe move it to ao3 later on. Enjoy some spring fluff!

Tintin In Pink

Haddotin fluff, 1K, Tintin gets a new sweater and it ignites what they should have seen coming a long time ago.

The image came to Haddock like he was in a dream. He knew rationally that it couldn't be, since he had just woken barely an hour ago to the chirping of magpies beginning to nest in the rose bushes below his bedroom window. But as he stepped out onto the circle beneath the looming entrance of his chateau, the retired sea captain was greeted by a vision that blossomed before him as if he was seeing with color for the first time. In some ways, he was seeing one color in particular with new eyes. 

Tintin was kneeled just beyond the pavement of the driveway, having parked further down, and was just about to enter Marlinspike at his usual time on the weekends. He and the Captain had begun visiting each other most weekends when they lived only a few blocks from one another in Brussels, and the routine only seemed to lengthen with each visit now that the gorgeous grounds of the estate was solely theirs to wander for hours. Sometimes their visits led to more adventures that put them far off across the world, but often it's only result was an afternoon and night completely gone by with laughter and music and easy conversation. 

There, ruffling the fur of his companion as Milou looked captivated by the sprinkling of blossoms in the air, was Tintin in a brand new baby pink sweater. Perhaps ‘new’ wasn't the proper term, as it was in the exact style as his other more commonly seen jumper, but the softness of the scene before him paired with the shock of seeing Tintin in something other than his usual blue stirred something deep within Haddocks heart. He adored the ginger journalist, more than he had ever felt admiration or appreciation for anyone else, and at this point it would be a slight against Tintin's investigative genius to think the lad wasn't aware of the fact. Haddock wore his heart on his sleeve, and now on his face as his cheeks flushed to a similar shade as the sweater once Tintin finally looked up and flashed Haddock with an open, carefree smile. He rose and walked up to where the captain still stood frozen on the front steps, with Milou following patiently at his heels, 

“Good morning Captain! I hope you've been well.”

“Aye, Tintin… you look bonny in that new getup, if I say so myself”

Then it was Tintins turn to blush. His eyes widened and color tipped the tops of his ears, as he met the Captain's gaze and then quickly looked away.

“Thank you, Captain. I wanted to try something new.. I suppose its been to my benefit?”

 He moved to push on the double doors of Marlinspike, but was stopped by a large, calloused hand lightly latching on to his upper arm. He turned to face the Captain again to quip about spring fever getting to both of them, only to see Haddock earnestly gawking at both Tintin's face and back to the sweater. Of course Tintin had picked up the pink jumper with the thought of the Captain's reaction to it in the forefront of his mind, but had only expected the sailor to be surprised, or to perhaps rib him a bit about getting out of his comfort zone. Now it was the Captain who seemed completely like a fish out of water, struggling to contort his mouth into any words that encapsulated what a beautiful sight the young reporter was to him. 

“Yer like a fresh spring morning, lad. I thought I might… well, I… “

“Oh please, you're flattering me too much! Its just a-”

In a flash, the Captain swept an arm around Tintin's waist, pulling him into an embrace where their sides were fully pressed together. Haddock was still fumbling with words, trying to explain what was in his mind and why his body was reacting faster than it, but Tintin saw more in his swimming eyes and flushed face than any combinations of the older mans colorful vocabulary could express. 

“I think you look quite dashing yourself, you old so-and-so.” Tintin said, now with an embarrassed grin pulling his features. The Captain smiled back, though he struggled to form any more coherent thoughts now that his and Tintins faces were so close. He could see the individual freckles across the bridge of the reporter's nose, the hint of darkness below his eyes belying the constant spring in his step. The Captain thought of the days and nights they spent together, all the times he'd seen Tintins expressions flow between joy and stoicism, rage and exhaustion, but the Captain couldn't ever recall seeing the glow in the ginger's crystal blue eyes so close, and so raw. 

“Blistering.. typhoons, Tintin. Before we go in, I just wanted to-”

The Captain was interrupted by a pair of soft lips touching his own, softly first with hesitation, and then firm as Tintin felt the Captain begin to respond. The ginger let a puff of air out through his nostrils, suddenly melting into the embrace with the Captain and reaching his arms around the taller mans shoulders for support. Haddocks hands went to the lads waist, as their kiss deepend and the wind scattered white blossoms across the pavement and through the air where they stood. The world filled with all of its dangers and misadventures dissipated, and like a key turning into its lock for the first time, the duo felt the summation of all of their perils and tribulations come to this kiss, the gentlest and most fulfilling moment after surpassing countless dangers. It was as if they had been kissing for the past 100 years, in every former life, and had simply forgotten. 

Milou yipped at their feet, excited by the breeze and swirling patterns of blossoms and leaves, and the happiness radiating off his two companions. When Tintin and the Captain finally broke away from each other, they sported a pair of dopey grins. Tintins eyes flit from his Captains face to the spring wonderland around them, watching the large trees around the front of the chateau shake with the light breeze. They held each other in comfortable silence for a few moments, before Haddock slipped his hand down from where it rested at the small of Tintins back to reach for his hand, feeling Tintins smaller hand squeeze his in reassurance. 

“Lets head inside, lad. I had plans for the afternoon, but it seems like I completely forgot them.” the Captain murmured into the ginger's temple, leaving a kiss beside Tintins quiff and squeezing his hand back. Tintin chuckled, turning to push on the entrance doors once again, 

“Oh, I’m sure we'll come up with something. We -oh! Oh, hello Nestor.” 

The stoic butler stood a few feet away from the pair, holding the chateau door slightly ajar and giving both of them a look that could only be described as unamused. He cleared his throat and nodded to Tintins greeting before facing the Captain, 

“There’s tea and aperitifs laid out in the main study, but I’d be happy to bring them to the porch if that would be more convenient. It seems to be a lovely day outside.” he replied tonelessly, glancing down at the pairs hands still intertwined before regaining composure and looking at the beet red face of the Captain. The ghost of a smirk played at the butlers lips, but he turned and disappeared into the house before even hearing the Captain's spluttering response about the study being just fine. Tintins twinkling laugh echoed into the front room with the soft thumps of two pairs of feet and four furry legs walking through the halls, the flash of pink color that sparked something new flitting past the windows, with one hand still linked tightly with another.

[mariana-oconnor]

The Three Gables pt 1

So, I've heard this one is... bad.

Let's see.

Oh, it's so bad it gets its own special warning... Great.

I wonder if any of this is even going to be quotable or if I'm just going to be vague posting 'oh... oh dear' a lot.

He was in a chatty mood that morning, however, and had just settled me into the well-worn low armchair on one side of the fire...

Like he picked you up and carried you to the chair?

Oh... dear...

Well that certainly went downhill quickly.

"...he was dressed in a very loud gray check suit with a flowing salmon-coloured tie."

I'm going to just... skip over the rest of the description and focus on the question of how a grey suit can be loud. Does it have some sort of really obnoxious pattern on it? Honestly, this outfit doesn't even sound bad. Grey goes with everything and salmon isn't a colour I'd pick myself, but it's not bad particularly if it's paired with something neutral.

The rest is just racist nonsense and stereotyping.

"I was trainin' at the Bull Ring in Birmingham when this boy done gone get into trouble.”

Hey, Bull Ring reference. Been there!

Steve appears to have been erroneously accused of a murder.

I'm very confused about what the purpose of his visit was, though. At first he seemed angry on his own behalf, then it seemed like he was acting on someone else's behalf and he wasn't angry at all...

“It is this Harrow Weald case. It decides me to look into the matter, for if it is worth anyone's while to take so much trouble, there must be something in it.”

And now I'm confused about what this case is about. So it's not about 'Young Perkins'?

Are we supposed to think Steve did kill Young Perkins and that his alibi is false? I don't even know.

So there's actually someone else who's asked for help? Mary Maberley? Who lives in Harrow Weald? And Steve was just threatening Holmes about that?

A short railway journey, and a shorter drive, brought us to the house, a brick and timber villa, standing in its own acre of undeveloped grassland. Three small projections above the upper windows made a feeble attempt to justify its name.

The Dr Watson school of Architecture does not approve of your poor attempt at gables.

“Dear me! Are you the mother of Douglas Maberley? [...] What a magnificent creature he was! Where is he now?” “Dead, Mr. Holmes, dead! He was attache at Rome, and he died there of pneumonia last month.”

I really wish they would stop referring to other people as 'creatures'. This isn't even part of the racism here. It still annoys me, though.

Are we here to investigate the death of her son?

"Well, it was not to talk of my poor lad that I asked you to come, Mr. Holmes.”

Apparently not. So far we have been informed of 2 deaths and neither of them appears to be actually related to the case in question. That's a lot of death.

"I have been in this house more than a year now, and as I wished to lead a retired life I have seen little of my neighbours."

Relatable.

"He said that this house would exactly suit a client of his, and that if I would part with it money would be no object."

If we have learnt anything in these stories, it's that as soon as a person is willing to pay too much money for something, they're up to no good.

I had always wanted to travel, and the bargain was so good a one that it really seemed that I should be my own mistress for the rest of my life.

Good for you, Mary. You enjoy your retirement.

"Are you aware that if you sign it you could not legally take anything out of the house—not even your own private possessions?’ When the man came again in the evening I pointed this out, and I said that I meant only to sell the furniture." [...] “‘Well, well, some concession might be made for your personal effects. But nothing shall go out of the house unchecked. My client is a very liberal man, but he has his fads and his own way of doing things. It is everything or nothing with him.’"

Yep, that's weird. He wants to go through your underwear? Very weird.

Clearly he wants something specific.

Then he strode across the room, flung open the door, and dragged in a great gaunt woman whom he had seized by the shoulder. She entered with ungainly struggle like some huge awkward chicken, torn, squawking, out of its coop.

The animal similes are back!

"Just a little wheezy, Susan, are you not? You breathe too heavily for that kind of work.”

Holmes really doesn't like eavesdroppers. Which seems a bit hypocritical, as he's done it himself before. Or maybe he's just particularly aggressive this week.

“Now, Susan, wheezy people may not live long, you know. It's a wicked thing to tell fibs. Whom did you tell?”

WTF, Holmes?

It's not just me, right? This is extreme, even for Holmes, right? He just threatened her life. And then gave what seems to be an implication that lying will send her to hell. I... Holmes? Have you been replaced by a doppelganger?

“So, a rich man? No; you smiled—a rich woman. Now we have got so far, you may as well give the name and earn the tenner.” “I'll see you in hell first.” “Oh, Susan! Language!” “I am clearing out of here. I've had enough of you all. I'll send for my box to-morrow.” She flounced for the door.

Honestly, I'm Team Susan here.

And then Holmes... gives her medical advice as she goes?

This entire story so far is madness.

"You don't happen to have a Raphael or a first folio Shakespeare without knowing it?”

Holmes. I'm going to need you to think back over that question really carefully, and see if you can find the flaw in your own logic. Go on. I can wait.

"No, as I read it, there is something which you do not know that you have, and which you would not give up if you did know.” “That is how I read it,” said I. “Dr. Watson agrees, so that settles it.”

Hey, Watson is still here. Thanks for reminding us, Watson. Of course, his opinion is the one that matters.

“‘Milano.’ ‘Lucerne.’ These are from Italy.” “They are poor Douglas's things.” “You have not unpacked them? How long have you had them?” “They arrived last week.”

So it is connected to Douglas. I'm so glad that was relevant. And he was involved with some woman. It's all coming together.

[tired-fandom-ndn]

this is like, definitely a really weird question to throw your way, but you're the only person i know of who's into it, so- how do you get into the Mechanisms? like. do you just listen to the albums?

Not a weird question at all, anon! The Mechanisms are great but they're also like. A lot and really difficult to get into without some help.

I highly recommend checking out this post for a great general guide on the characters, basic lore, and the main albums.

Basic info from me:

The Mechanisms were a character band where the performers each played a member of a crew of space pirates, made immortal through being "mechanized" (except for The Toy Soldier, which is doing its own thing).

The albums and individual tracks are presented as retellings of events that the mechs witnessed in their travels to different planets, space stations, solar systems, etc. Different mechs play characters in the story (ie: Jonny Sims plays the mech Jonny D'Ville who plays Ulysses in UDAD), presenting their own (self-admittedly biased and inaccurate) accounts of what happened. These albums are heavily based on things like mythos and existing tales, which is explained in-lore as stories just replaying in the universe in different ways.

These stories do not have happy endings. Ever. "So know the void is screaming mad, no happy endings out there, lad." - Tales to be Told.

Since the albums are telling a story, the songs have to be listened to in order to understand them. The general pattern is narration-song-narration-song. The albums themselves can be listened to in any order though; most people recommend Once Upon a Time In Space, then High Noon Over Camelot, then Ulysses Dies at Dawn, then The Bifrost Incident. Personally (don't come at me), I feel like TBI is a poor one to end on because it doesn't have a finale song like the others; I recommend finishing on a really strong note with UDAD or HNOC.

Once Upon a Time In Space: a story of a rebel space faction waging war against an immortal tyrant king, with a heavy focus on a refugee princess trying to save her wife from the king. Inspired by classic Western fairytales like Snow White and Cinderella.

High Noon Over Camelot: a scifi Western taking place on an abandoned space station, with the leaders trying to gain access to the station's controls before it goes hurtling into the sun. One of the songs, Hellfire, is incredible but based heavily on Southern doom preachers in case that's a trigger. Inspired by Arthurian mythos with biblical themes and a tarot theme for the track names?

Ulysses Dies at Dawn: a corrupt world run by people using the brains (and, presumably, souls) of the dead to run the planet and fuel their own immortality, with a main focus on a retired war criminal and their brief stint as the captive of a bunch of criminals trying to access their locked vault. Inspired by Greek and Roman mythos (you can actually figure out "sides" based on the characters' names!)

The Bifrost Incident: a transport officer trying to investigate the decades-old disappearance of a train containing their world's most powerful and influential people, with three captive mechs being their main source of information. Inspired by Norse and Cthulhu mythos.

There's also some incredible side albums like Gunpower Tim vs the Moon Kaiser (GPT's origin story and how he was mechanized), Frankenstein (an extremely trans retelling), and Alice (a side sequel to OUATIS, about a planet where the war continues).

There's also individual tracks and short stories that sometimes stand on their own and are sometimes connected to one of the main albums, just little ways to fill in the lore. Jessica Law, the performer for The Toy Soldier, has a frankly beautiful song called Narcissus Under the Knife that is about a character mentioned in one of the lore stories for UDAD.

Some of the mechanisms have their own individual origin songs. That list includes Gunpowder Tim vs the Moon Kaiser (GPT), One-Eyed Jacks (Jonny D'Vill, debatable, he's said most of it is lies), Lucky Sevens (Ashes O'Reilly), Cyberian Demons (Nastya Rasputina), and Lost in the Cosmos (Drumbot Brian). Kofi Young, the performer for Doctor Baron Marius Von Raum (neither a doctor nor a baron) is working on their own album for Marius' origin titled The Death of Byron von Raum.

Speaking of lore: you can find official fiction for the characters and individual albums (excluding TBI rip) on the official website. Highly recommend reading them if you're interested in engaging with the fandom.

There's more lore but a lot of it is buried in old archived blogspot posts, on twitter, or idly mentioned on either tumblr or on discord servers (Maki's is very active). I'm sure there's some google doc with links floating around tumblr somewhere but a lot of it is just off-hand stuff (like the time Drumbot Brian was briefly replaced as drummer with octokittens, multi-tentacled creatures living on the ship).

The fandom has sooooooo many antis, man, it's not even funny. People will ride your ass for shipping Nastya and Jonny, noncon is a big no-no (goddd), and fans simultaneously want all the mechs to be uwu soft and fluffy found family but also if you give them any personality traits whatsoever then you're trying to erase their horrific crimes. It's a fucking mess so be prepared for that.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 27: It's a Hell of a Christmas

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: T

Word Count: 8462

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 28 29 30 31 32

This fic was written for the CS Secret Santa event in 2022. It’s Emma and Killian’s first Christmas together following the Final Battle. After spending a happy family day together, they relax before the tree and Emma asks Killian about his favorite Christmas memory. His answer surprises both of them

CS Genre: Season 7 missing scene

1 week before the first Christmas following the Final Battle

Killian sighed in contentment as the sofa beside him dipped and Emma curled up beside him.  Wrapping his hooked arm around her he pulled her to himself and gave her a quick kiss before she laid her head against his shoulder.

It had been about as close to a perfect day as he’d experienced in a long time.  He’d woken up, as always, in his wife’s arms, smiling as she softly snored, burrowing into his warmth.  After taking a few moments to simply enjoy the comfort, he’d carefully maneuvered out of the bed.  He’d learned quite early in their marriage that a man was taking his very life into his hands when he was foolhardy enough to wake Emma before she was ready.

After a pleasant morning spent with Swan and her lad, she’d shoed the two of them out of the house, citing the fact that Christmas was fast approaching and she needed to wrap presents in peace without prying eyes

“I thought kids were bad, when it comes to looking for their hidden Christmas present,” she’d said with a grin, “but you, Killian, have them all beat.”

He’d grinned, leaning down to give her a loud, smacking kiss, before straightening and raising one eyebrow. “Pirate,” he stated simply.

She laughed, shoving him toward the door.

“Don’t forget my parents are coming over for dinner tonight,” she’d said, “and then they and little Neal are helping us trim the tree.”

He’d promised to return in plenty of time to help with dinner preparations, and then after one last lingering kiss (prompting Henry to make exaggerated gagging sounds behind them), he and the lad had taken their leave.  They’d hardly walked a block toward town before they were met by Emma’s father and little brother.

“You guys get kicked out of the house too?” Dave asked.

“Aye,” Killian said with a nod.  “It seems the Charming and Jones men are due for another of  those–what did you call them?--guys’ days.”

And so they’d spent the afternoon enjoying the snow and the company–helping the lads build a snowman, waging an all out snowball war (which the Charming’s had won handily–but only because neither he nor Henry had the heart to toss a snowball anywhere near three-year-old Neal.  Killian smiled as he recalled the tiny lad’s peals of laughter as his snowball connected with Henry’s shoulder and Emma’s lad had staggered, clutched his heart and then dramatically fallen to the ground), and then retired to Granny’s for some much appreciated sustenance.

“Well, I suppose I should get this little guy back home for his n-a-p,” Dave said as mid afternoon approached, making sure to spell the word he knew would result in a mutiny from his little lad, “but we’ll see you in a couple hours for dinner.”

It had been a pleasant evening with the family, as they set up the Christmas tree, trimming it with twinkling electric lights and bright, colorful baubles.  Henry, with great fanfare, had presented him with a new ornament to mark his first official Christmas as Henry’s step-father.  Killian groaned good-naturedly as he’d opened the box to reveal a small likeness of his Disney counterpart.  He’d played up his disdain at the assassination of his character, before placing the ornament on prominent display.

It had been an ordinary day, spent engaging in ordinary family activities, and Killian wouldn’t have changed a moment of it.

The Charmings had remained until it was time to put the little prince to bed, and then they’d taken their leave, with many promises for more festivities in the coming days.  Soon after, Henry had taken his leave, as he was due to spend a few days at Regina’s

“It really is a pretty tree, isn’t it?” Emma asked, as they lounged on their sofa looking up at the brightly lit fir in question.

“Aye,” Killian agreed. “A lovely tree, and a lovely evening.”

“Can you believe it?” she asked. “Our first Christmas together as a married couple and we get to spend it with no looming crisis hanging over our heads, no villains threatening us.”

“I rather think I could get used to this ‘Happy Beginning’ business we’ve found ourselves in,” he’d agreed.

Emma laughed, reaching up to absently run her fingers through his hair.  She was so affectionate now, never passing up an opportunity to give him little signs of her love, and he found it utterly delightful.

“You must have a lot of stories from past Christmases,” Emma continued with a grin.  “After all, you’ve celebrated like a million of them.”

“Oy!” he stated with mock offense, “It couldn’t have been more than two hundred fifty.”

She laughed joyously, and he grinned, turning to give her a quick kiss on the top of her head.  “So what was your favorite Christmas, Killian?”

He thought about it for a moment, several memories running through his mind like one of those moving picture shows Swan and her lad enjoyed watching of an evening.  One rather surprising moment stood out above all the others.

“You’ll think me mad,” he said finally, “but I think my favorite Christmas was actually last year.”

Emma sat up and looked at him with astonishment.  “Last Christmas?  But last Christmas we were in…”

He nodded.  “Aye, quite so.  Who would have believed my favorite Christmas memories would occur in the Underworld?”

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

Everything hurt. Everything.  His bones, his muscles, his sinews; he'd swear even his hair hurt if that were possible.  Hades may be a bloody bastard, but never let it be said he wasn't skilled in the art of torture.

It was nearly Christmas. Killian likely wouldn't have marked the occasion, save for the festive elf costumes Hades insisted his demons wear as they went about their masochistic ministrations.

The demons themselves had heartily enjoyed themselves, singing Christmas song parodies as they whipped him and burnt him with hot pokers so brutally it had taken everything within him to keep from screaming in pain.

We wish you an awful Christmas, 

We wish you an awful Christmas

We wish you an awful Christmas

and a hellish New Year!

…

Lord Hades is bringing the pain!

He sees you when you're sleeping

He knows when you're awake

He don't care if you've been bad or good,

He'll still throw you in his lake!

And so, it seemed he would.  Angry that he couldn't break Killian, angry that despite it all, Killian refused to extinguish that last spark of hope he'd learned to foster, thanks to Emma and her family, Hades had decided to stamp it out of him in the only way he could--by lowering him bit by bit into the sickly green lake in which he would finally lose himself forever.

He supposed it was only just that it should all end this way.  After his centuries of villainy he deserved nothing better.  Once he was finally gone and lost forever, Emma and her family could return and build a happy life for themselves free of the pain and suffering he brought to everyone who came in contact with him.

His heart lurched at the thought of Emma.  How he loved her!  For one bright, shining moment, he'd allowed himself to believe they could be together, that he would achieve the happiness he'd fruitlessly searched for for so many decades, but then it had all gone to hell…literally.

The crane lowering him into the River of Lost Souls lurched downward yet again, and Killian focused on her, on his Emma.  He was determined she would be the last thing he thought of before he could think no more.

"Killian!"

He would swear he could hear her beloved voice, but it was clearly a last trick of his deluded mind.

"Kilian," she said again, softer this time, tenderly. "Hang on. I’m coming for you. I got ya."

And then she was there holding him, freeing him from the chains, cradling him in her lap.  Killian couldn't bite back the soft groans as his injuries complained of the contact.

The hope and joy Hades had failed to root out of him flared to life for a brief moment, but then reality set in once again.

"I told you to let me go," he said. "You shouldn’t be here; no one should."

She gave him a wry smile as she cupped his face, then gently swept the bangs from his forehead. "I never listen."

He smiled in spite of himself.  "You’re impossible."

She grinned in response. "And you love me for it."

And gods but he did.  More than she could ever know or comprehend.  Soon enough he would have to send her home, protect her from himself and the absolute misery he brought to everyone with whom he interacted, but for now, for this one bright shining moment, he could do naught but enjoy the comfort her presence brought.

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

Later that evening, promontory beside the lake of fire

“Liam! Please! Hold on!” Killian pleaded, holding onto his brother’s hand with all the strength within him.

If there had been any question at all before, it was gone now. This was well and truly hell.

Everything was crashing around him. Everything. His entire world was imploding, everyone he loved facing unimaginably horrific fates, and it was all his fault.

After rescuing him from the River of Lost Souls, Emma had poofed him back to the Underworld version of her home. She’d taken a seat on the musty sofa, calling him over to join her, patting the seat beside her.

“Come, sit down,” she cajoled, “Let me look at you.”

His wounds ached and throbbed. It was hard to breathe; hard to think; hard to keep from crying out with every movement. He couldn’t imagine what he must look like, his visage marred from the beatings he’d endured.

“Are you sure you want to?” he said wryly. “Hades sort of knocked the handsome out of me.”

She grinned playfully at him. “No one’s that powerful.”

Were their situation different, he’d have flirted back, made her laugh with his nonsense, but presently it was all he could do to shuffle over to the sofa and collapse beside her.

No sooner had he taken his seat than Emma waved her hand over him, and it felt as though a shower of pure, warm sunshine washed over him, taking with it the pain and injury and leaving him whole. Even yet, the strength and power of her magic astounded him.

For a moment, Killian felt nothing but relief.

And then reality set  in yet again, as it always did in this terrible place. Emma was here, in hell itself, because of him, because of his weakness. Waves of self-loathing like nothing he’d ever experienced washed over him.

She leaned in toward him, lips moving toward his.  He pulled back, turning his head. He was unworthy of her love, unworthy of anyone’s love.

“What’s the problem?” she asked, pulling back to get a better look at him.

“It’s just…” he began, struggling to even put into words the depths of his hatred of himself and what he’d done. “A lot has happened between us.”

“What’s the problem?” she asked.

How did she not see it? How was she still looking at him with love? Agitated, he got to his feet and paced away from her.

“I’m the problem,” he bit out. “Emma, you were the Dark One for six weeks and only gave into the darkness out of love. I plunged in head first in a second for revenge. I was weak.”

“Not in the end!” she insisted.

A single moment of heroism didn’t make up for centuries of villainy, and he well knew it. “You raised the bar very high, Swan. The fact is, I don’t measure up.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” she said, her voice insistent. “If you didn’t, would I have come all the way down here to try to save you?”

She would, and he knew it, because she was good. She was a hero. He was anything but.

“That’s my point. I’m not sure I deserve saving.”

Their conversation had been cut short in the most unexpected way–by the arrival of his brother Liam. What had followed were a few blessedly joyous and peaceful hours, as Killian introduced his first true love to his second. The two best people he’d ever known, together in one place. Despite his guilt and misery, he couldn’t suppress the joy the meeting brought.

But even this was destined to crash down around him.

It started with Emma’s superpower telling her something was amiss with Liam. Something had happened between the two of them, but Killian didn’t know what it was; didn’t want to know what it was.

He didn’t understand how Emma could think Liam, the most moral and straight-laced man Killian had ever known, could be anything but on the up and up, but she was quite convinced.

The moment Silver’s crew had shown up and proven Emma right had been the most disorienting moment of his life. It felt as though he were suffering from vertigo, his entire world turning upside down as the horrible truth settled in around him–Liam had lied to him, and not only that, he had entered into a deal with Hades, allowing the entire crew to be lost at sea in order to save Killian.

My fault, my fault, my fault! The words echoed in his mind like a mantra.

If it hadn’t been for Killian, Liam would never have fallen. Killian wasn’t merely cursed, he was the curse. He infected and destroyed everyone around him.

Everything had moved quickly after the horrible revelation, and Killian had been so shell-shocked he could do nothing but move with the inexorable tide.

Silver’s crew had marched Liam and himself to the lake of fire, intent on making the brothers Jones walk the plank, but their intentions were upended by the arrival of Hades himself.

Liam had, once again, attempted to shield Killian from his just punishment, and the result had brought them to the moment they now found themselves in–Liam slipping inexorably toward the lake of fire, Killian more terrified than he’d ever been. He couldn’t lose Liam again. Not now. Not like this.

“Liam! Please! Hold on!”

“I’m sorry brother, for all I’ve done,” Liam shouted above the flames threatening to consume him. “Can you forgive me?”

It wasn’t even a question. Like Emma, Liam had only fallen for one reason–love of him. His guilt was quite misplaced. “Yes, but that’s not what’s important. You need to find a way to forgive yourself.”

“I can’t, not after what I did to you.” The look in Liam’s eyes made Killian’s heart sink like a stone. “The only way to make amends is to pay the price.”

And then Liam let go.

Shear panic and aching horror took over, as Killian reached down, trying fruitlessly to stop what was happening.

But the panic was short-lived. A moment later, the flames disappeared to be replaced by a serene sea. Liam rose above all of it upon a little rowboat, a smile gracing his lips.

Killian felt the tears prickle behind his eyes, tears of relief this time. “Liam! You’re safe!”

Liam’s smile widened. “Yes, it appears I am. I suppose this is the sacrifice I should have made long ago. I can finally depart.”

Killian looked beyond his brother. Where once had stood the rocky wall of the cave, now was nothing but open waters and a port city which appeared stocked with all the provisions Liam would need for his next mighty adventure.

Liam had truly redeemed himself, and now his own personal paradise awaited him.

“Then go. All of you,” Killian said, gesturing to the remaining crew, “Now that you know the truth, your unfinished business is complete as well.”

“Get on board, men,” Liam said, offering the sailors a hand. “What about you, brother?”

Killian turned away. Liam deserved this. Silver’s crew did as well. He, most certainly, did not.

“I think not,” Killian said finally. “There’s nothing for me but the lake of fire. I deserve no better.”

Liam stepped out of the boat, instructing the first mate to leave without him. Insisting his everlasting reward could wait.

If anything, the pit in Killian’s stomach grew wider, into an abyss there would be no crossing. “Why would you do that?” he shouted. “Why would you delay your paradise? I’m. Not. Worth. It!”

Liam frowned. “That’s nonsense, brother. You’ve become a true hero in a way I never could.”

Killian scoffed. “A hero?” he scoffed, putting every ounce of derision he could muster into those two syllables. “I’m anything but. I’m a pariah to all who meet me. Everyone who has the misfortune of coming into contact with me is worse off–much worse off–for having known me. You would all be better off if I flung myself into that lake of fire, perishing once and for all.”

“You really think those who love you would be happier knowing you burnt to death in a lake of fire?” Liam asked softly. “Emma? Her lad? Me?”

Killian glanced aside. “Well, maybe not. Maybe it would have been better if I’d never been born.”

Liam was silent for a moment, thinking. “That’s an idea,” he muttered to himself. “What do you think, Zeus? That could work.”

Killian’s brow furrowed. “What are you on about?”

“Done, Killian,” Liam said, clapping his hands together. “You’ve never been born. You don’t exist.”

There was a flash of light, a clap of thunder, and then all went silent. 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For a moment Killian merely looked at his brother.

“Pardon?” He said finally.

“You’ve never been born,” Liam repeated. “You don’t exist.”

“Then…who am I?”

“You’re no one,” Liam said. “Killian, you’ve been given a great gift, the opportunity to see what the world would look like if you’d never been in it. Are you ready to explore? To see the impact you have no longer had?”

Killian wasn’t sure he was ready for this. After all…it was altogether possible everyone was infinitely happier and more fulfilled without his toxic influence. 

Still, he’d never been a coward. He didn’t intend to start now. “Very well, lead on.”

They made their way from the cave back to the filthy streets of Underbrooke. The first thing Killian noticed was that the town appeared far more crowded than it had when they entered the cave. Dozens, maybe hundreds of men dressed in uniforms he recognized as belonging to some of the rival kingdoms he had fought as part of the Royal Navy, milled about.

“Who are these men?” Killian asked. “Why have they suddenly arrived?”

“They haven’t suddenly arrived,” Liam said as they began making their way through the crowds. “They’ve been here for more than 200 years–ever since our corrupt king used dreamshade on them.”

“But that’s impossible!” Killian insisted after mumbling a quick apology to a man he bumped into. “We discovered the King’s plans for the dreamshade and we refused to turn over the poison!”

Liam shook his head. “You weren’t around to question the king’s command.”

“But surely you discovered the plant's properties and did the honorable thing,” Killian insisted.

Liam stopped suddenly, giving Killian a long look. “I wasn’t around either. Come. I have something I need to show you.”

Killian followed Liam back to the bar he’d tended since his death, questions swirling in his head.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

Liam was behind the bar, but he looked nothing like the Liam Killian knew and loved. This man was young, likely no more than eighteen or nineteen. There was a hard look about him, that of a man who had seen and endured far too much in the short time he’d lived.

A man who hadn’t had any hope.

Killian turned toward his guide, his Liam. “How are you…there and…here?”

“Properly speaking, I’m not,” Liam said. “As I’ve already, for all intents and purposes, moved on, I, like you, don’t exist here.  The man you see behind the bar is Liam Jones as he would have been had you never been born.”

“Why is he so…young?”

Guide Liam sidled up to the bar, waving Killian over to join him. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“What’ll it be, gentlemen?” Young Liam asked in a bored voice, continuing to wipe down glasses as he eyed his new customers.

“I’m rather partial to whiskey myself,” Liam said genially, “and my brother here has a preference for rum, if I remember correctly.”

Young Liam nodded, and had just turned around to fulfill the request, when Killian finally found his voice. “Liam! It’s me!” he said. “It’s Killian!”

Liam raised an eyebrow. “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”

“Killian,” Killian insisted, “your younger brother.”

Young Liam frowned. “Never had a brother. Never had any family save for a mother who died far too young and a worthless arse of a father who sold me into servitude.”

“But–” Killian tried again, “even without me, all of your men, all of those who sailed under Captain Liam Jones loved you. They were a family to us…to you.”

Young Liam laughed bitterly, before leaning in, his lips turned down in a scowl. “I never had any men under my command. I never had command over so much as a cabin boy. I lived a slave, and I died one, just another nameless sot who drank too much and went down in a storm.”

Liam banged two tumbler’s of liquor in front of his patrons. “Now, you can either drink up or get the hell out of my bar. I’ve no stomach to relive my failures.”

When the bartender had turned away to wait upon another customer who had arrived, Killian turned toward his brother. “What is he talking about?”

Liam shrugged. “Without you in my life, Killian, I was utterly rudderless, lacking in any ambition to better myself. I never escaped Silver’s command, never even tried.  I died in that storm, Killian. I along with that entire ship of hopeless men.”

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

They consumed their beverages largely in silence after that, Killian’s unease growing the longer he thought about Liam as he would have been had things been different.

Was there any truth to what his brother said?  Had Killian’s very brokenness inspired Liam to be a better man?

Taking the last sip, Killian got quickly to his feet, no longer interested in the bar or hearing any more sad tales about the bartender.

“Alright Liam,” he said to his guide, “where next?”

Liam thought for a moment before paying their tab and leading Killian out the door, the words “The Rabbit Hole” illuminated as it swung shut.  “I think there’s someone else here you need to see,” he said finally.

Killian followed obediently behind his brother as they walked through the streets of town until they came to the sheriff’s station.

“Some prisoner here you wish me to see?” Killian asked as Liam opened the door and waved him inside.

“Patience, brother,” Liam said. “The purpose of our visit will soon become apparent.”

Killian looked around the office as they entered.  So similar in some ways to its Storybrooke counterpart–yet so different in others.  This sheriff’s office sported a myriad of medieval torture devices, and at the far wall stood none other than Rumplestiltskin’s cell itself.

It was only once he’d stepped fully inside, that he noticed the man lounging in the swivel chair behind what back home would be Emma’s desk.

“David?” he asked. “What are you doing here, mate?  Shouldn’t you be helping the others?”

The man rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically before getting to his feet.  “Not David. James,” he bit out. “If you’re looking for my brother, he should be back any moment once he finishes his latest utterly fruitless task of arriving at a crime scene just too late to save anyone.”

“What?” Killian asked, trying to make some sense–any sense–out of what was happening.

The man–James–smiled nastily.  “Quite a clever punishment Hades devised for him, wasn’t it?” he asked. “My hero of a brother, wanting nothing more than to save his subjects and the people he loves, forced to spend an eternity down here never quite able to save anyone.”

“But…but why is Hades punishing him?”

James looked at him as though he had two heads. “Because that’s what the Lord of the Underworld does–punishes those poor, unfortunate souls who show up at his doorstep after their demise.”

Killian’s heart sank. “David’s dead?”

“You new here?” James asked. “Of course he’s dead.  Only way people end up here.  Now is there something you need, or are you just here to annoy me?”

“We’ll take a seat outside and wait for David’s return,” Liam said, ushering Killian to a very uncomfortable bench in the hallway.

“How? Why?” Killian asked after a moment of silence.

Rather than answer, Liam pointed toward the doorway, a little bell ringing as a very dejected David stepped through the door.

Killian noticed it immediately, the blackened veins traveling from his chest up to cover his face.  “Dreamshade,” he whispered.

Liam nodded

David gave them a look as he walked past, but there was no recognition in his face at the sight of them.  Too overwhelmed by what he’d just seen to think straight, Killian didn’t even attempt to call out to him.  

Just before the office door closed again, Killian heard James greeting his brother. “Ah, David.  Back from another unsuccessful rescue mission, I see.  There’s a mountain of paperwork for you on your desk.  It’s grown by a foot since you left.  Should keep you nice and busy until the next crisis you can’t avert.”

“But this is wrong,” Killian said after a moment of silence.  “All wrong.  David should be alive.  Water from the springs of Neverland saved him!”

Liam shook his head. “You weren’t there to save him, Killian,” he said quietly. “Being resourceful, Emma and her family found a way to Neverland and succeeded in saving the lad, but without you to save him, David died of his dreamshade poisoning.”

The pit in Killian’s stomach widened. Wrong, wrong! This was all wrong!

“How did the Lady Snow–not to mention Emma and Henry–handle David’s passing?” Killian asked, not entirely sure he wanted the answer.

“Again, perhaps it’s best if I show you,” Liam said.

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

Liam led him this time to a building with a big display out front and a sign proclaiming it to be the cinema.

“This is one of those places that projects those moving pictures Emma and Henry are so fond of, isn’t it?” he asked, after Liam purchased two tickets from a bored teenager at the ticket booth.

“Indeed,” Liam said, peering at the tickets and heading toward the theater indicated, “but as with other establishments here in the underworld, the theater serves a bit of a different purpose than it does back on earth.  The theater allows Underworld residents to catch a glimpse of those they left behind when they died.”

The lights in the room dimmed, and blazoned across the huge screen in front was the single word “Storybrooke”.  A moment later, the screen changed, and Killian found himself looking at the Charmings’ flat.  Snow sat at the kitchen table, a full bowl of cereal and an untouched cup of coffee in front of her.

She looked terrible.  Dark circles under her eyes proving she hadn’t been sleeping.  Her hair hanging dull and lifeless.  Her eyes–her eyes were the worst of all.  They were dead, hopeless.  It was a startling sight, seeing the woman usually so optimistic looking so defeated.

“Gone,” she muttered. “They’re all gone.  I’ve lost everything.”

Henry took a seat beside her, his eyes troubled–not only at the sight of his grandmother, but also, it seemed, with his own grief.

“Grams, you have to eat something,” Henry said, his voice wobbling slightly.  “I can’t lose you too.  I can’t.”

Henry’s distress seemed to snap Snow out of her stupor, at least temporarily.  She pasted a false smile on her face.  “You’re right, Henry,” she said before forcing herself to take a spoonful of her cereal. “Thanks for making breakfast.”

Henry shrugged, digging into his own bowl. “It’s what family does.”

“Where is the child?” Killian asked. “Little Neal, where is he?”

“There is no baby Neal,” Liam said simply.  “Killian, with David perishing on Neverland, the little lad was never conceived.  Like you, he does not exist.”

Killian pulled in a quick breath, aching for Emma’s mother.  She’d wanted so much to have a second child, had loved her son to distraction.  Her loss was palpable–although Killian hardly knew how one could miss someone they’d never had or known.

“You see, Killian,” Liam said as the screen went to black and the house lights came up once again, “everyone’s life creates a ripple, and without that ripple, nothing is ever the same.”

Killian waited for a moment, expecting the scene to change again; there was one last person he was desperate to see.

“Liam, why didn’t the moving picture show us Emma?” he asked, somehow both needing and dreading the answer. “Where is she?”

Liam gave him a long look before blowing out a breath.  “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes!” Killian said insistently.  “Show me Emma.  Show me my true love.”

“Very well,” Liam acquiesced, “but I warn you–you’re not going to like what you see.”

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

Killian resumed his seat in the Underworld theater, steeling himself for the sight Liam assured him he would not like.

“What are you doing?” Liam asked, “didn’t you say you wanted to see Emma?”

“Aye,” Killian said slowly.  “I had assumed we would once again need the moving picture machine for that.  After all, if I was never born, Swan would have never come to the Underworld after me.”

Liam shook his head gently, his eyes sorrowful.  “I think you need to come with me.”

Killian felt his heart drop, a sense of foreboding washing over him as the implication of Liam’s request sunk in.  Surely Emma was not down here.  Surely.

And yet, as Liam led him deeper and deeper into the underworld, that sense of foreboding only continued to grow.  When Liam led motioned for him to enter the cave where Killian knew Hades’ most sadistic torture chamber sat, it all became too much.

“No!” he moaned, taking a step back.  “She can’t be there!”

Liam placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.  “I know this is difficult, Killian, but you must see this.”

Killian wanted nothing more than to turn tail and run.  If Emma was in this chamber, he couldn’t bear it.  He couldn’t.  “Please, brother.  Please tell me this isn’t real.  Please tell me she’s not here!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Liam said gently. “Come, we must hurry.  For the moment Hades and his minions have let her be, but we mustn’t be caught when they return.”

For another long moment, Killian resisted, but finally, realizing Liam was right, no matter how horrific, he must know the truth, he nodded.

The first thing he noticed upon entry into the cave was the intense, overbearing heat.  There was no relief, no respite.  Then came the overwhelming stench of sulfur. For a moment, the darkness was so absolute, so oppressive, he couldn’t see anything, but as his eyes became accustomed to the lack of light, he noticed a single, flickering candle along the back wall–the wall where Hades had chained Killian when he was in the midst of his worst tortures.

The sight that met him would have brought him to his knees if Liam’s strong arm hadn’t been there to support him.

“No!” he shouted, the sound echoing off the cave walls.

For it was indeed Emma who was chained to the wall, her face so bruised and cut and swollen as to be almost unrecognizable.  Her hair hung limp around her, damp from the sweat born of the oppressive heat and the physical trauma.  Hades had stripped her of her signature red leather jacket, and Killian could see cuts and bruises all along her arms.  One arm, in fact, hung at an odd angle, giving evidence of a nasty break.  Her jeans were tattered and bloodied.

In short, it appeared she’d suffered every torment he had, and perhaps even more.  He had to save her.  Had to!

Killian rushed toward Emma, gently cradling her head and brushing a strand of hair from her face.  He murmured her name and words of comfort and he eyed her restraints, trying to determine how best to loose them.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked in a voice she was obviously trying to make sound defiant.  Instead, it merely sounded exhausted.  Hades was so very close to breaking her, and Killian wanted to rip out his entrails and strangle him with them.

“It’s Killian,” he said.  “I’m going to get you out of here love, just as you did for me.  You had to know I love you too much to leave you here to suffer.”

Emma scoffed and rolled her eyes.  “Just how stupid do you think I am, Hades?” she asked in a voice dripping with scorn. “You think I’m some naive, damsel-in-distress, starry-eyed teenager who’ll fall for any line a handsome stranger throws my way?  Hardly.  I grew up real quick on the streets and learned that love is a lie sold by greeting card companies.  It’s certainly not in the cards for the Savior.  So just stop with–well, with whatever you’re trying to do.  Get back to the torture or leave me the hell alone.

“Swan–” Killian started, before he was interrupted by a noise in the corridor.

“Killian, we’ve got to go,” Liam said, grabbing at his arm.  “Someone’s coming and we can’t be caught here.”

Killian pulled his arm free and tried to hack at the chains holding Emma.  They wouldn’t budge.

“It’s useless, brother,” Liam insisted, grabbing at him again. “The chains of hell cannot be broken.  We’ve got to go. Now!”

It went against everything inside of him to leave Emma there, leave her to Hades’ devices, but Liam was right.  There was no way to free her.  Finally he nodded, following his brother out of the cave and through the streets of town until they reached what was once Underbrooke’s version of Emma’s house.  It was different now, fallen into complete disrepair–windows broken, wood rotted, cobwebs hanging from every surface.

This house was the physical manifestation of everything he was feeling now.  Everything, everything was crumbling in around him.

“Why?” Killian moaned in anguish, falling to his knees.  “Why is she here?  She shouldn’t be here!  I should!”

“You don’t exist,” Liam reminded him, getting to his knees and placing a comforting arm on his shoulders.  “She couldn’t make you a co-Dark One.  You weren’t there to take all the darkness on yourself and sacrifice yourself to end it.  Emma had to do that herself.”

“No!” Killian moaned again.

“And I think you know why Hades is making her torture so much worse than anyone else’s if you truly think about it,” Liam continued.

“She’s the savior,” Killian said, his voice breaking. “She defeated Hades in a way no one else ever could.”

Liam nodded. “She did,” he agreed, “and she did so because she is good and valiant, but she is also broken.  Without you, she never again found love.  She was never able to allow her heart to heal and her walls to come down.  She was a light to all around her, but she was never blessed with that light for herself.”

And suddenly it all began to make sense.  In his long life, Killian had done many terrible things, but he’d also had a positive impact on others.  His life had mattered, and its absence left a tremendous hole.

“We are none of us fully good nor fully evil,” Liam continued, as though reading Killian’s thoughts, “but every one of us is important and necessary to so many people.  Our impact is something we may never know, but it is vital, and when one of us is missing from the fabric of time–the resulting tear leaves the garment irreparably harmed.”

The tears began to flow, and Killian let them, making no attempt to stop them or wipe them away.  He wanted to fix this.  He needed to fix this.

“Please brother,” he said through his tears, “help me.  I want to live again!”

Liam smiled. “Done!”

~*~*~*~*~*~

There was no flash of lighting, no crack of thunder this time.  Nothing earth shattering happened.  One moment they were in the broken-down shell of the Underbrooke version of Emma’s house, and the next they were back in the cave where this whole thing had started.  Even so, Killian knew it had worked; he could feel it.  All was back to the way it should have been–well, as close as anything could come in this terrible place.  His life was restored to the fabric of time.  Joy bubbled up. 

As Killian’s eyes adjusted to the dim light of the cavern, he noticed the dinghy docked to the cliff, the peaceful waters in which it bobbed, the pleasant port in the distance that was to be Liam’s eternal reward, and a touch of bittersweetness mixed in with his joy.  No doubt the time of parting with his brother was almost upon him.

“Not quite yet, brother,” Liam said, once again reading his thoughts. “This vessel will be waiting for me in due course, but it’s Christmas Eve.  I can see nothing wrong with celebrating this one last holiday with my brother and the family he’s amassed for himself.”

Killian’s smile widened. “You’d put off paradise for me?”

“Of course,” Liam said. “Haven’t you learned by now I’d do anything for you?  You, little brother, are worth it.”

Killian wrapped his arms around his brother, feeling the tears rush to his eyes once again.  He’d always known his brother’s first statement was true, but now, maybe for the first time in his life, he was beginning to believe the truth of the second as well.

After a long moment, Killian stepped back, clearing his throat. “Younger brother,” he corrected gruffly.

Liam laughed. “And, if I don’t miss my mark, there’s someone else out there who would also do anything for you; who also believes you’re worth it.  Perhaps it’s time you go to her.”

Emma’s beloved face came to mind, and a rush of love and longing filled him.  He’d left her on a rather bad note, his self-loathing pushing her away.  He wanted–needed–to make things right, to let her know how very much he appreciated her coming here to save him.

“Will you not come with me, Liam?” he asked.

Liam chuckled.  “I rather think your reunion is something I don’t need to be privy to.  I’ll return to the loft, spend some time with your Emma’s son.  Perhaps we can plan and start preparations for our Noel celebrations.  You and your love can meet me there.”

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

Killian rushed back to Swan’s Underbrooke house, his heart leaping to see it whole and reasonably intact, as opposed to the broken down hull he’d seen last.  It was further proof that all was back as it should be.

He found Emma standing in the drawing room looking confused and slightly out of sorts.

“Hook!” she said, as he rushed toward her.  “Where the hell have you been?  First you and Liam left, and then Henry ran off…somewhere.”

There was so much he wanted to do, so much he wanted to tell her, but he started by simply giving her a long hug, which she returned warmly.

When he pulled back enough to see her face, it was obvious his gesture, while not unwelcome, had certainly done nothing to banish her confusion.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he said finally. “You were right about Liam.  He destroyed those pages because of a deal he made with Hades years ago, a deal that almost got us thrown into that boiling sea.”

Her eyes widened and her grip tightened on his arms.  “Are you okay?  Where is he?”

“He, uh, sacrificed himself,” he said, struggling to find the words to tell her what had happened to him–to both of them–over the last few hours.  “But his sacrifice helped a crew we once sailed with.  They finally moved on thanks to him.”

Her alarm grew.  “Did he move on too?”

Killian shook his head.  “Not yet.  A boat is waiting to usher him on when he is ready, but he wishes to spend Christmas with us first–it is, after all, Christmas Eve.”

He didn’t miss the slight look of unease in her eyes, which she quickly masked.  “That’s–that’s good,” she said, a bit too cheerfully.

“He was wrong about you, Swan,” Killian said, “and he knows it.  I think one reason he wished to remain was to have an opportunity to apologize to you and make amends.”

Her smile became far more genuine.  “There’s no need, Killian.  He was just trying to protect you.  I get that.”

“Nevertheless,” Killian said, “I need no protection from you, and now he knows that.”

They were silent for a moment, merely enjoying the quiet and peace of each other’s company.  Finally Emma looked around.  “So if he didn’t move on, where is he?  Didn’t he come back here with you?”

Killian grinned.  “He returned to your parents’ flat, hoping to conspire with the lad to make our Christmas one to remember–at least as far as is possible in this hellish place.”

They shared a smile, but then Killian grew serious, looking at her with intensity.  This was important; he needed her to hear him.  “But he helped me to see the truth before he went.  I’m glad you came down here, Emma.  Perhaps I do deserve saving after all.”

 She lit up, her face showing a joy he hadn’t seen since he’d gotten down here.  “Does that mean when this is all over, you’re planning to come home?”

When this is all over.  It was a stark reminder that there were still substantial obstacles they must face before they could return to their white picket fence life, but face them they would.  He was sure of it.  Not only would they face them, they would win, and their happiness afterwards would be all the sweeter from the struggle they had to endure to get there.

“Yes,” he answered definitively. “Everything Liam did was to ensure that I had a future, and I damn well intend to have one.”

With that, he swooped in for a long passionate kiss, the likes of which he’d dreamed about ever since this ordeal began.

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

Storybrooke, Present Day

Killian toyed with the ends of Emma’s hair as her head lay on his shoulder.

“And then we returned to your parents’ flat–or what passed for it in that bloody place–to find Henry and Liam had made a valiant attempt at decorating for the festive occasion.”

Emma chuckled.  “I remember.  The only tree they could find made Charlie Brown’s look amazing.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Killian said with his own chuckle, “but I catch the gist.  It was quite pitiful.  Its sad state only rivaled by the wilted poinsettias and the crumbling mistletoe.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Emma said, “I think the mistletoe still worked perfectly well, if the exaggerated eyerolls from Henry when we made use of it were any indication.”

He chuckled again. “And all your mother could find to prepare for our Christmas feast was grilled cheese on stale bread and PopTarts for dessert.”

“I’ll admit it wasn’t the greatest grilled cheese I’ve ever had, and unfrosted brown sugar cinnamon PopTarts are just wrong,” Emma said, “but I’ve gotta say, I kind of like the menu.”

Killian shot her a disgusted look with a muttered “bloody hell”.   She collapsed against him as she laughed.

“However,” Killian said after a moment, returning to the subject at hand. “It was a pleasant evening filled with joy and laughter.  The two people I love the most in this or any world together and reconciled, your family–our family–together to support us.  It was the very essence of what makes Christmas magical.”

Emma sat up to look at him and there was sadness in her eyes. “But the next evening we had to say goodbye to Liam for good.”

Killian sighed. “It was a bittersweet moment to be sure,” he agreed, “but I got a proper farewell this time, something I was denied when he died in my arms all those centuries ago, and I know he’s in a better place–I saw it for myself.  One day we’ll be together again.”

She gave him a stern look. “That day better be decades and decades away.”

He grinned before leaning down to kiss her. “Fear not, Swan.  Have I not proven that I’m a survivor?  Even death couldn’t hold me forever.  At any rate, though we were in an awful place and the decorations and provisions were less than ideal, that was a Christmas that I will always hold in my heart, because I got a second chance, and it’s been sweeter than anything I could imagine.”

They were silent for a moment, and then he heard a small sniff beside him.  He leaned over to see tears in Swan’s eyes.  “Love, whatever is the matter?”

“I had no idea, Killian,” she said after a moment, “no idea you went through all that.  You never told me about the visions Liam showed you.”

He shrugged. “There never seemed to be time; we were always moving from one crisis to the next, and I didn’t want to upset you with my own internal crises.”

She sat up again, looking into his eyes. “Killian, we’re true love, husband and wife,” she said, “We should help each other through our crises.  Don’t ever feel like you have to keep anything from me because I might find it upsetting.”

He smiled tenderly at her, cupping her cheek and letting his thumb caress her face.  “Nor you with me, my love.”She nodded. “And for the record, Killian, you have nothing left to prove.  You are a good man, and all of us are better off for having you in our lives.  Don’t ever doubt that. 

NEXT CHAPTER->

[eeveeandme05]

Third post! Another snippet of fanfic coming up - back to Amano's story this time! (Sorry for all the time-hopping - motivation and inspiration are such sporadic, fickle things ;w;)

Also, quick side note: this story takes place in present day, a.k.a 2023 (okay maybe a little into the future, being late May/early June). According to 'Sodor, Reading Between the Lines' as of 2020 Sir Stephen turned 79 and showed no signs of retiring - goodness knows when he's planning to, he's 82 at this point - but I'm going to say as of this story he is still the Fat Controller. Okay? Okay.

Enjoy this latest tidbit!

It had been a week since Amano had arrived on Sodor. He had been warmly greeted by Sir Topham Hatt and given the starting position of a yard worker, which he had eagerly accepted. He enjoyed his duties, running about the yard and coupling trucks together for engines to take away, and during the breaks he chatted happily with the workmen, who were pleased to see a fresh young face amongst them. However, by the end of the week, Amano was getting bored. And when that happened, his thoughts began to wander and grow more gloomy.

He was standing by a set of points, shunter's pole in hand, absentmindedly staring at the ballast. His face was blank but his eyes were dull, a touch of sadness glinting in them.

Just then, Edward puffed in hauling a line of empty trucks. He spotted Amano and rolled over to him.

"Hullo Amano!"

The boy immediately perked up. "You remember my name! That's a nice change - the other engines just call me 'lad' or 'workboy'. I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult."

Edward chuckled. "Oh, I wouldn't be too surprised. We engines aren't exactly well known for our capacity to remember human names. We usually just give them nicknames based on their most distinct features."

"Oh, I see. Huh, so I could have ended up with a nickname like 'Old Mop-head' or something." Amano made a face. "Cor, imagine that! I guess 'workboy' isn't so bad after all."

Edward had to laugh at that. The boy wasn't wrong! He laughed for a good few seconds before he composed himself.

"Ahem, yes, anyway. You seem to have been feeling rather upset lately. Is something the matter?"

Amano froze, scrambled for an excuse, then sighed and looked away. He didn't try to lie his way out - he knew Edward would see through it in an instant. He inwardly squared his shoulders and decided to trust him, then gazed up at the blue engine once more.

"Yeah, things are pretty hard for me at the moment. It's really not that big of a deal, just a lot of stuff has been happening lately and, well, it's been a rough ride." He glanced around the yard and looked back at Edward. "You don't need to worry about me. I'm fine, really."

Edward stared at him thoughtfully, but didn't press him. "Oh dear, I'm sorry to hear about that. Would you like to talk about it later? If not, perhaps a ride in the cab will help you clear your smo- ahem, head?"

Amano looked at him gratefully. This is why he liked Edward. He understood.

He did feel some excitement return at the offer of a ride, though. "Yes, please! If the Foreman's fine with it, and your driver."

"Naturally. Would that be all right with you, Driver?"

"Of course!" he smiled, leaning out of Edward's cab. "I'll go and ask the Foreman." So he stepped off the footplate and did just that.

Fortunately, the Foreman had also noticed Amano's low mood and agreed that a change of scenery would do him good. So, after depositing his empty trucks and picking up some new ones, Edward puffed out of the yard with Amano in his cab.

Edward puffed along at speed, his trucks swaying behind him. His blue paint sparkled in the summer sunlight and his wheels pounded the rails as he rushed through the countryside, whistling through tunnels and past stations. He couldn't help but sigh contentedly. This was the joy of being alive and steaming.

Amano leaned out of the cab window, letting the wind rush through his dark hair and blow it in all directions. He made cheeky faces at passers-by, and laughed and waved enthusiastically whenever they passed a group of children cheering beside the line. He even started singing a tune that was quickly picked up by the trucks in their own silly way. He was having the time of his life.

While Edward listened to Amano's hearty chorus, his boiler bubbled with thoughts. The happy, mischevious boy he saw now was so different to the poor lad he had seen crying by the dockside last night. Whatever this "rough ride" he had described earlier was, it was more serious than he was letting on. Edward longed to know more; perhaps then he could find away to help his new friend clear away whatever misery was clouding his life.

For the moment though, Edward focused on getting his goods train to its destination at Ulfstead.

He would discuss the matter with the others later that night.

[what-if-nct]

I swear Jisung is feeling himself lately, with his showing skin and bashful, yet purposeful teasing in that suit look during that model session. And is just me, or do oversized clothes actually look more his style? Like all the outfits bar that one pastel-ly fuzzy one that irks me for some reason, looked good on him but that one that we only got a glimpse of with the oversized stuff looked best imo.

Yeah, I can see him coming out of his shell a bit more, I think, him wanting to try something more revealing was actually so precious. Especially when he was shy about showing it. And obviously almost every NCT member except for like seven of them have worn something as revealing or even more so. Of course Jisung would want to emulate them. He even said it's more something Jeno and Jaemin would wear. It also looked like what Johnny wore to the met gala. Also only cause they have the same lip shape but from a certain angle when his eyes were closed, Jisung looked a little like Winwin for a bit. I miss Winwin I see him post often but I miss him.

And oversized clothes does really suit him, I think if they gave him full length pants it would have been better for the bomber jacket look because it already had school uniform vibes the shorts made it elementary school uniform. Like I really want them to retire the shorts and high socks for him. Please. I liked the full denim look on him. And flared pants are great on him just please someone stop putting him in those school boy shorts. Please, he's 21 it's time he finally graduates. He doesn't have to be like Jeongin who was ready to flash with no hesitation at the same age, just no more little lad clothes.

[kokujin-josei-simmer]

Like A Dragon Infinite Wealth

Just downloaded it and I already love it, been playing it now for about 3 days....4 maybe.

It's a massive game, lots to explore (in 3 different cities, 2 in Japan and one in Hawai'i), lots to do and I'm gonna say it now, but *MINOR SPOILER* (it was already revealed in the trailer for the game) my digital husband Kiryu is ill and I'm gonna lose it if they kill him off. I've played the series since the beginning and I know they wanna move on from Kiryu to Kasuga but I personally don't think they should kill him off 😢

Kasuga's character is popular, I think most fans know the series can continue under the LAD name without having to permanently get rid of the original star, Kiryu. Let him retire to Okinawa with his foster kids like he wanted to with occasionally cameos like Majima and Saejima, please 😭😭😭

The game is fun so far, though, and I love how big Honolulu is. So much to explore and various businesses to shop at, eat in/take out, games to play or karaoke songs to sing. Also gear to buy since you do a lot of fighting in the game. There's even an island you end up cleaning up and creating DIY projects (you have to fight, too, some pirates who have polluted the island with trash/waste so that's what you have to clean up and clear out: them and their trash) to create a 5-star resort.

I'll post more pics later because this game is just massive, I've taken plenty of screenshots (and in game photos/selfies since you have a smartphone) and I need to go through them. This is supposed to be the longest game in the series so far, I needed a break from Sims 4 (especially since they just released a big update) and I wanna play this before I end up coming across some spoilers about the end.

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Chronicles 079-088 posted, 6-28-23)

079. Eomer realizes his behavior is affecting his son. (Anxiety, Family, Comfort)

 Remorse  -  (Mar, 7 IV)

With trepidation, Elfwine approached his father, who was seated on the front steps of Meduseld, staring off into the distance.  “You...you wanted to see me, Papa?”  Earlier, he had gotten into some mischief and his father had chastized him rather loudly. The boy had counted himself fortunate that his punishment had not been very severe, but now to be summoned by Papa seemed to indicate the matter was not yet settled.

During his tirade that morning, Eomer had seen Elfwine jump, and then cringe away from the verbal assault. He did not consider himself a violent or irrational man, but often in his life, particularly as Third Marshal and sometimes still, it was necessary to physically intimidate others with words and presence.  He had been very good at it, his size alone a plus for that, but it troubled him that it might be having such an effect on his son.  “Yes,” Eomer murmured softly, not turning to look at the boy.  “Sit down.”

The small five-year-old huddled beside his father, but sitting well apart from him.  It was evident that he was struggling to hold back tears.  Unable to restrain his emotions, he blurted out, “I am sorry, Papa!  I did not mean to be naughty and make you angry!”  Tears trickled down his pale cheeks, despite his attempts to keep them in check.

Jolted from his contemplation by the boy’s outburst, Eomer turned grieving, dismayed eyes on his son. His voice breaking ever so slightly, he asked, “Elfwine, are you afraid of me?”

The child trembled at the question, fearful of what an answer might cause to happen.  Reaching a hand toward him, Eomer stopped abruptly when he saw Elfwine flinch.  Sucking in a tight breath, he slowly withdrew his hand.  Softly he asked more persistently, “Are you afraid I will strike you, son?”

Hugging his knees tightly, the boy reluctantly answered, “I saw you...”  With a sniffle, his voice choked off and he didn’t finish his sentence.

“Saw me what?” Eomer encouraged gently, desperately. 

Wiping fiercely at his eyes and trying his best to be brave, Elfwine forced himself to say, “Break a chair. When you were mad.”

For a moment, Eomer could not imagine what the child was speaking of, and then he recalled more than a sennight past – he had spent a disagreeable session with his council, some of whom he had concluded were doddering old fools that very much needed to retire.  He had stormed from the meeting to the solitude of his study, but Lothiriel had spotted him charging across the Golden Hall and pursued.  Apparently, so had Elfwine, though Eomer had not realized the boy was there.  As he raged about his study, while Lothiriel stood calmly near the door letting his anger play out, he had picked up a chair in frustration and smashed it on the floor.

Lothiriel had simply watched him, then asked quietly if he was finished with his tantrum.  Almost instantly, the fire had gone out of him, and she had moved to soothe and calm him.  They spent the next hour talking things out, and letting him ease his aggravation in a much more rational manner.  Somewhere in there, Elfwine had seen him smash the chair and then disappeared, frightened by the violent act.

Wearily rubbing his hands over his face, Eomer shook his head in dismay.  How had it come to this – his son terrified he would be struck whenever Eomer got angry with him?

He turned to the miserable lad again and slowly held out his hand, palm up, toward him and, after several minutes, Elfwine placed his tiny hand into it.  Ever so gently, Eomer tugged and encouraged him to come closer, until the boy was sitting in his lap, wrapped in his arms.  Fighting for control of his emotions, he said raggedly, “Elfwine, I want you to know I would never strike you.  No matter how angry I am, I would never lay a hand on you.”  He kissed the boy’s head, holding him closer, “I love you, son.  Sometimes I let my anger get the better of me, and I should not smash chairs when I do, but I promise you – I will NEVER strike you.  Nothing you can do will bring me to that.  I may be disappointed with something you have done, but I will leave it to your mother to punish you physically if such is needed.  I will not lay a hand on you in anger.”

There was silence for a long time until finally Elfwine turned to peer into his father’s eyes. At length he said, “I do not want you to be disappointed with me, Papa.  I will try harder to be a good boy so you are not.  And I promise not to be afraid of you anymore.” 

Flinging his arms around Eomer’s neck, he hugged so tightly Eomer almost could not breathe, but there was nothing that would have made him push his son away.  “Agreed,” Eomer whispered fervently.

THE END

 also on AO3:

              https://archiveofourown.org/works/48211510/chapters/121579741

[my-shields-are-down]

Isabel/Rachel/Ashley meets Chenford kids 5/10 years down the line?

Ooh, this is a fun one! Thank you for this! I’ll do 3 separate posts. First up Rachel.

————+

Seeing them in person and seeing their family dynamic is so different than looking at the growing number of smiling faces on Lucy’s yearly Christmas cards.

Rachel came back to California when her dad’s condition began to worsen and hadn’t reached out to Lucy until recently. When Rachel opened up the door, Lucy put the baby carrier on the ground and leaned in to hug her friend. They broke apart after a long hug and smiled at each other with tears in their eyes.

“Tim is hanging out in the car, he wasn’t sure you wanted to see him.”

Rachel smiles and says, “tell the fool to come inside so he can argue football. My Marcus is a 49ers fan.” Lucy laughs and texts Tim to come along and join them. A few seconds later, Tim bounds up the steps - just as Rachel’s fiancé steps behind her. Marcus leans out to shake Tim’s hand, and says “Why don’t we go sit out back by the pool? I’ve put up the umbrella so we’ll be in the shade. “

Rachel and Marcus lead them through the house. Lucy, having spent many of her college breaks here noticed the updates - that wall removed to open the space, new gorgeous hardwood floors, big bay windows, and a landscaped back yard with flowering trees, a deck, outdoor kitchen and a pool. As they sit down, the baby starts to squawk and fuss. Tim instantly reaches down to grab the swaddled babe, grabs the bag and asks where the bathroom is.

“I know, right? He does everything and dotes on the lad and me. I had a rough go when he was born. The lad did not want to come out. 42 hours of labor - it was exhausting. I yelled at Tim - a Lot. So now, he’s making up for it. He bought a mini blender so he could practice making baby food. I think he’s overcompensating for his dad being a jackass to him. Tim is continually proving to himself he is not and will not be like him. As if that were even possible.”

Rachel smiles at Lucy. She looks so calm and serene and happy. Rachel was not surprised when she heard they got together, she always had an inkling. One of the many reasons she didn’t fight too hard when she was in New York.

In short order, Tim comes back and has the lad strapped to his front. All you could see were dark curls and tawny skin. He immediately walks back to Lucy leaning down so she can kiss the baby. They then smile at each other and say “love you” and then Tim sits down with one hand on his beer and the other on the baby. He also looks relaxed, content and joyously happy.

Tim turns to Marcus and asks, “Have we met before? You seem very familiar to me. “. Marcus laughs, you maybe saw me on tv recently or you have a distant memory of me repeatedly tackling you in that state final football game. Tim’s eyes got big and he laughed… “Wait, are you Marcus Scott? (Marcus nods). Oh wow. I’m a big fan! Your college and NFL careers were fantastic. You retired well before people expected you to, why? If you don’t mind my asking…” before Marcus can answer, Tim turns to Lucy and says, not only is his football career full of record breaking stays, but he raises money and builds schools and gives back to his community.”

Marcus shyly looks at Lucy and says. “Yes, I broke almost all of my idol’s records (Deion Sanders) and my mom instilled in me a serious work ethnic and love of my community. My mom knew Rachel’s Dad from back in the day and she introduced us. Our next project is a community center in Sweet Water - it’ll be named after Rachel’s dad. “. Marcus turns back to Tim and says, I left football when it hurt to walk. My knees were destroyed. He lifts a leg and said, both were replaced with titanium. I’m bionic now. I can turn on the charm when needed, so tv announcing was an easy move that pays me a lot of money so Rach and I can continue to contribute to the community but not get sucked into the madness of it.”

Marcus looked at Tim thoughtfully and said, “you’re him. You’re the one she was dating long distance when I met her. She told me her boyfriend was most likely in denial about the feelings he had for her friend (Lucy waved) who set them up.” Marcus started laughing like a little kid and came over and hugged Tim. Then said, “Thank you so much for not fighting for her. You made it super easy for me to win!”

Just then the boy strapped to Tim started to giggle.

Tim, carefully undid the straps and handed the bundle of laughter to his wife. Rachel and Marcus, please meet Patrick Kuaile Bradford. Kuaile is Chinese for joyful because he laughs all the time. He’s 6 months old now and laughs at everything, especially his dad. Patrick a/k/a “the lad” had inherited most of his mom’s traits - curly dark hair, tawny skin, big expressive eyes, but he has his dad’s blue eyes.

Lucy grabbed Tim’s hand and said to Rachel and Marcus, “thank you for reconnecting and inviting us to your lovely home. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. “. Rachel grabbed Marcus’s hand and said, “Thank you for reconnecting and for coming to Dad’s funeral. He loved you so much. Also we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you either.” Both couples kissed and the baby laughed and laughed.

[4dtk]

he's gone soft!

hi can u tell i love cats? and i also love hesitant cat owners who eventually warm up to their cats <3 got inspired by grumpy dads who eventually starts cuddling and cooing at the cats they adopted lol. also, adopt don't shop!

"you... you want what?" megumi asks, putting on his uniform as you scrolled aimlessly on your phone.

you were sure he heard you since he was just a metre away from you, but even you knew that the boy had hearing problems sometimes. you could listen to the pleads of his divine dogs at the mention of another pet, curling up to you as a way to win back your heart.

"can we get a cat?" you ask again hopefully, scratching at the white dog's ears as a way to calm their whining while he buttons his top. you're prepared for his reply, anyway, having asked him about this for the longest time.

he sighs, too used to the black and white fur decorating his already messy bed. plus, he wouldn't want to add another animal to the mix, knowing how much he adored his dogs.

with megumi's sigh and delayed answer that never came, you shook your head to your question, putting on a smile so you could head out to a mission without facing your feelings.

"it's okay, babe, i was just trying my luck," you kissed his cheek as you walk past, holding out a hand for him to take. megumi lets out another sigh before deactivating his divine dogs, taking your hand hesitantly as you met up with gojo-sensei just outside the campus.

the exorcising was an easy job since it involved several grade three curses and a terrified child. still, it was nothing uncommon to see in a place where kids willingly skip into abandoned scary buildings on a dare.

"come. let's go somewhere," megumi says out of the blue, dragging you by the hand once you bid goodbye to the kids. you had no idea where the destination lay, only getting grunts and hums from the boy whenever you questioned him of the sudden detour.

the meows coming from inside the building shocks you, instantly bringing a smile to your face as you peeked over the display shelves and products on sale. without much thought, you entered as quietly as you could, greeted by the friendly receptionist with a grin on her face.

"hi! how can we help?" you were so immersed in the cats playing around, as well as the several others in their cages, that you don't hear your boyfriend entering and muttering something that makes you drop your jaw even more.

"we'd like to adopt a cat, please," megumi nods, taking your hand once again as you do a speechless double-take to your boyfriend and back to the receptionist. your puzzled face was apparent, but you lose it all once you see the cats running around in the shelter while she finishes up a document on the computer. soon, she stands, guiding the two of you around the place as she points out some of the dashing felines they had rescued.

"hi! hello! what a handsome boy!" you switched to a baby voice as a cat came up to your hand at the entrance of the cage, rubbing against it affectionately.

megumi watched as you greeted the many different cats, giving them nicknames of your own while cooing or making faces at them. he could only smile gently, letting you pull him every time you saw another quote-unquote 'handsome lad'.

you sigh dreamily, staring at the many cats with love in your eyes, scanning over those you interacted with over the last half 'n hour. as megumi reaches forward to point at one, the receptionist interrupts as if she's just recalled something.

"crap, i forgot to show you our older cats. they're lovely, although they might be less active and would rather chill in the sun," she explains as she walks.

"we don't have many elderly cats here, but they deserve a life with loving owners such as yourself as much as the youngins in here," she smiles, scratching one behind the ear.

you smile in reply, reaching over to pet them carefully. so fragile and wise, but they still looked charming, save for the energetic bursts that the younger cats had.

one cat caught had your eye, despite its shyness and apprehensive nature. she warmed up to you in a heartbeat, claiming your hand as a safe space after a good sniff. she purrs in an instant, headbutting your hand repeatedly as a gesture of affection.

"oreo doesn't interact with our visitors much," she says, "is she the one?"

"oreo... because she's black and white?" megumi asks, not exactly impressed with the name.

"you got it."

"yes, her," you say, cooing yet again with a voice ten times higher than the one you use with his shikigami.

the boy doesn't comment, tugging on you before you could lose yourself in the cat's eyes any longer. with a last flying kiss, you depart from oreo with a grin on your face.

"now, have you taken care of cats before? i'm sure your boyfriend here has more experience with dogs than he does with cats," you look at her in surprise, giggling at the assumption she made.

"how'd you know that?"

"just a hunch." megumi grunts again at the observation, not denying it as you answer her question.

"i have- had a cat back home. i couldn't fathom death again, so i never adopted another one," you frown, signing the papers with ease as you multi-tasked, "but i mean, this man is pretty fetching and a keeper, so it'll be nice to care for a cat together."

the two of you joke like old friends as the raven-haired boy blushes at the compliment, squeezing your hand in response.

within a few minutes, oreo was under your care, completing the process with a few toys, a scratching post as well as some food for the black and white cat.

you spent the whole evening with the new family member in your and megumi's shared room, getting oreo warmed up to the new environment and getting her to do a few tricks. she tired out quickly, but you don't mind as you lay on the floor with her, completing homework like it was nothing.

you had to retire, sometime and somehow as megumi urged you to shower, assuring that oreo wouldn't go anywhere.

you kept the shower short, regardless, dressing back up in record speed before coming face to face with megumi stroking oreo's fur as she curls up on his lap. he mumbles to her, bouncing his legs lightly as the cat rests her head on his calves.

"i just wanted to see (y/n)'s smile, but i guess you're pretty cute too," the corners of megumi's lips turn up at the soft meow from oreo, bending down to kiss her on the head.

"careful, hotshot, i might get jealous," you say, startling the poor boy. oreo doesn't give a shit, snuggling further into the warmth of his legs as he's stuck in the position on the floor.

"are cats always this clingy?"

"oreo might've had a rough time at her previous home, so she's glad to have someone to curl up against. they usually take longer to warm up to new owners but... she's a wise soul!" you laugh, squatting down to peck megumi on the lips.

"thank you."

"for what?" megumi's hand naturally rests on your thigh as you sit down beside him, while your head find its spot on his shoulder.

"for adopting a cat. for giving oreo a home, even if you like dogs a bit more."

he hums, "i like all animals, but dogs on the scale are a little bit higher than everything else."

he turns to you, causing you to lift your head off of your resting place.

"but i think if my love likes cats then, i'm willing to bump it up the scale to match it with my love for dogs."

you shove him lightly, laughing softly at his attempts at flirting.

"did gojo-sensei ask you to say that?"

the answer is clear when he rolls his eyes with a blush on his pale cheeks, but engages you in a deep kiss either way, smiling and speaking through it.

"he did but, i think it's pretty true when it comes to you."