#cs humor and fluff

[jrob64]

Slipping Into Your Heart

A Captain Swan New Year's Story

Happy New Year, everyone! This one-shot was written as part of the Captain Swan Winter Bingo event and checks off the box 'slipping on the ice' on my card.

@kmomof4 pointed out that my last posted story Drummer Boys, Reindeer and Romance actually checked off TWO boxes - reindeer and cuddling by the fire. I'll take it!

Special thanks to @hookedmom for her beta work all year.

Story Summary: After three terrible New Year's Eve dates in a row, Emma Swan decides to spend this one at home by herself. But when the handsome, blue-eyed Grubhub driver who delivers her dinner slips and falls on her icy sidewalk, she feels compelled to take care of him.

Rating: T

Words (Ch. 1/1): 6065

Can also be found on Ao3 and ffn

*********

“Don’t worry about me, Mary Margaret,” Emma Swan said into the phone, as she entered her bedroom to grab her purse. “I just ordered Grubhub. It should be here any minute.”

“I wish you had come over to eat with us tonight,” her friend responded a bit forlornly.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m looking forward to an evening all to myself,” Emma said. She was a little surprised to realize she was being completely honest. “I’m already in my comfy clothes and I plan on watching the new season of The Great British Baking Show with some hot cocoa and popcorn, later.”

“I hate to think of you being alone on New Year’s Eve.”

“I would rather be alone than with any of the guys I had as dates for the last three New Year’s Eves. Those dates were unmitigated disasters, as you well know.”

“Jefferson wasn’t so bad,” Mary Margaret commented.

“Are you kidding? He was crazy as a loon! He showed up wearing a top hat, for crying out loud.”

Mary Margaret sighed. “Well, don’t give up on dating, Emma. One of these days, the right guy will come along.”

“That’s what you keep saying. At least one of us has hope.” Just then, the doorbell rang. “I have to go; my food is here. I hope you and David have a great time tonight. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Enjoy your evening, Emma. Happy New Year!”

After ending the call, Emma hurried out to the living room and opened the front door. Standing on her porch was the Grubhub delivery man.

Emma had food delivered on a semi-regular basis and met many delivery people, but most she didn’t really remember after she closed the door. However, this particular delivery person she had never seen before, because if she had, she was quite certain she would have remembered him.

The man standing in front of her was attractively dressed in dark jeans, a button down shirt and black leather jacket. He was about six feet tall and obviously in very good shape. After taking all of this in, her eyes moved to his face. That’s when her breath caught in her throat, because he was, quite literally, breathtaking.

The bluest eyes she had ever seen sparkled beneath long lashes and expressive brows. Attractive sideburns faded into neatly-trimmed scruff on his strong jawline and chin, and his dark hair curled around his adorable, slightly pointed ears. His other perfectly proportioned facial features completed his handsome face.

Emma realized he was smirking and wondered how long she had been staring at him. Giving herself a mental shake, she cleared her throat. “Uh, hi, I, um…I guess you have some food for me?”

“Aye, lass. I have your order right here,” he said, holding up a large plastic bag.

An accent. He had a fucking British accent.

Once again, she had to remind herself to speak. “Thank you. I, uh…oh, hang on a second. Let me get you a tip.”

She took the bag from him and set it on the floor beside her. Digging inside her purse, she pulled out her wallet. “I should give you extra for coming out on New Year’s Eve.”

“That’s not necessary, madam.”

Riffling through her wallet, she pulled out a five dollar bill and two singles. “Then I’ll pay you extra to never call me that name again.”

He laughed as he took the offered bills. “Thanks very much. I hope you have a lovely evening, E.S.,” he said, referring to her initials from the order information.

“You, too,” she answered, picking up the food.

He gave her a grin, then turned and went down the porch steps. Instead of closing the door right away, she watched him walking down the sidewalk to his car. Just as she began to swing the door shut, she heard him let out a yelp and looked out to see his feet fly out from under him. His arms flailed as he attempted to keep his balance, but it didn’t help. He fell hard on his back, his head thankfully missing the concrete and landing in her snow-covered yard.

“Oh my gosh!” Emma exclaimed, dropping the bag of food, flying out the door, and rushing quickly but carefully to where he lay moaning. “Are you alright?”

He sat up slowly, brushing the snow out of his hair with one hand, while the other rubbed the small of his back. “I think so?” he answered unconvincingly.

“I’m so sorry! I shoveled the snow so the sidewalk would be clear for you, but didn’t notice the ice underneath.”

“It’s okay, lass,” he said, though the grimace on his face told a different story.

“Here, let me help you up.” She offered him her hand and began tugging. He had just gotten his feet under him, when she slipped and fell on top of him.

“Bloody hell,” he groaned.

“I am very, very sorry,” Emma apologized, then dropped her head to his sternum and burst into laughter. She was relieved to hear his answering chuckle.

When she got herself under control, she managed to get to her feet and looked down at him. He lay there smiling up at her. “I better give you a bigger tip to help cover your medical bills,” she quipped.

He rolled over and got to his knees, then cautiously pushed himself to his feet. Standing in the snow beside the slick sidewalk, he tilted his head from side to side, both hands on his back. “That won’t be necessary, Love. I appear to be in one piece.”

“At least let me get you an ice pack to put on your back while you drive to your next delivery.”

“You don’t need to go to that trouble, either. You are my last stop of the night.”

“I hope you’re not too sore for your New Year’s plans tonight .”

He scratched behind his ear. “That’s not a problem. I don’t have any.”

“You’re kidding!” Emma blurted out before thinking.

He gave her a quizzical look. “Why does that surprise you?”

“I just…you…honestly, you don’t look like someone who would have trouble finding a date.”

“Neither do you, lass.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly realizing she wasn’t wearing a coat. “Look, I feel really bad for causing you to fall. Won’t you please come in so I can get you an ice pack and ibuprofen?”

He hesitated, his hands moving to his lower back again. “Perhaps that would be a good idea, if you truly don’t mind.”

“I wouldn’t make the offer if I did. Come on in.” She turned and led the way through the snow to her house, picking up the bag of food once she was inside the door.

The delivery man entered behind her, closed the door, stomped his boots off on the mat, and stood there a bit awkwardly.

Emma set the bag on the coffee table and turned to look at him. “I haven’t even told you my name yet. I’m Emma Swan.”

“Killian Jones,” he said, reaching out to shake her hand.

“I’ll be right back,” Emma said. She went into the kitchen, took an ice pack out of the freezer, and wrapped it in a tea towel. Then she got a bottle of water out of the fridge and grabbed the ibuprofen off of the counter. That’s when she had second thoughts about her decision to ask him in. Sure, he was incredibly handsome and seemed very nice, but criminals could be handsome and deceptively nice, too.

Peeking around the corner of the door frame, she saw that he was still standing on the small rug in the entryway, shifting from foot to foot. Surely, if he were inclined to commit some sort of crime, he would have taken advantage of her being out of sight.

She walked back into the living room. “You can take off your coat and sit down, if you like.”

“I don’t want to drip water across your floor.”

Emma pointed to the shoes on her feet. “If I didn’t worry about it, you shouldn’t either. But if it makes you feel better, you can take off your boots and leave them on the rug.”

He toed them off, then unzipped his coat and removed it.

She set the water bottle and ibuprofen on the table beside the sack of food and sat down on the couch, gesturing for him to sit on the other end. Once he did, he shook out a couple of pills from the bottle and took a swig of water. Then she handed him the ice, which he placed on his lower back.

After sitting in silence for several moments, she leaned forward and pulled the food towards herself. “I ordered enough food for several people because I was feeling self-indulgent. Are you hungry?”

“I couldn’t possibly ask you to…”

“You didn’t ask me, I offered. I’ll go get a couple of plates.”

As they ate, they made small talk about mundane subjects.

“Is the ice helping your back?” she asked.

“Aye, a bit. I think I just twisted it when I fell.”

“I’m very glad you didn’t hit your head on the concrete.”

“Me, too.”

“If the ice pack isn’t cold anymore, I’ll get you another one. I have plenty. I have to keep a lot on hand because of my job.”

“Are you a professional kickboxer or something?”

She laughed. “No, but close. I’m a bail bondsperson who doubles as a bounty hunter, when necessary.”

He whistled lowly. “You must be a tough lass. How did you get into that particular profession?”

“It’s a long story.”

“My schedule is pretty clear, but if you aren’t comfortable talking about it with a total stranger…”

“You stopped being a total stranger when you told me your name,” she pointed out.

He grinned and she felt her insides melting at how it made his already handsome face even more gorgeous.

“I’ll tell you on one condition - that you promise not to pity me.”

“Ah, so it’s a story of tragedy.”

She shrugged. “I guess you could say that.”

“In that case, I promise not to pity you. However, if you want, I can reciprocate by sharing my own tragic story.”

“What better way to spend New Year’s Eve than depressing the person we just met?”

“Indeed,” he said, grinning again.

Emma took a deep breath and began telling her story. “I grew up without a family. I don’t know why my parents gave me up at birth, but they did. I was placed in foster care as an infant and stayed with one family for three years. Just as they were initiating adoption proceedings, they found out they were having a baby of ‘their own’.” She framed the last two words with air quotes. “So they decided they didn’t need to adopt me. I was put back into the system and by the time I was seven, I was labeled emotionally troubled.”

“It’s no wonder, after being taken from the only home you ever knew,” Killian commented.

“I know, right? Anyway, I was moved to different foster homes pretty frequently and was never considered for adoption again. I ran away from my last placement when I was sixteen and got caught shoplifting a couple of months later. They sent me to a juvenile detention center that specialized in vocational training. When I took one of those assessments that’s supposed to match your interests to a career, it said I was most suited for a job in law enforcement, which I thought was absolutely ridiculous.”

She paused to take a drink of her soda. “Then this really tough counselor named Cleo took an interest in me and told me I was wasting my potential by being angry at the world. She trained me to be a bail bondsperson and bounty hunter because I flat out refused to go to the police academy.”

“Do you like the job?” he asked.

“It pays the bills. Most of the time, it’s pretty boring, but once in a while I have to do a stakeout or set a honey trap.”

“Honey trap?”

“Set up a fake date with a skip and dress sexy. Once I gain their trust, or their lust, I cuff them and take them in.”

“Ah, I see.”

She dug her fork into the container of pork lo mein and put it in her mouth. After chewing and swallowing, she continued. “Sometimes I wish I went to the academy, instead of being so damn stubborn.”

“It’s not too late,” Killian observed. “Perhaps you could look into it.”

“Yeah, maybe. I’ve been thinking about it more often lately.” After taking another swig of pop, she asked, “So what’s your tragic backstory?”

“I moved to America with my mother and brother nine years ago, when I was seventeen. Mum was battling cancer and we found a treatment center that seemed more promising than any place in England.”

“Did the treatment work?”

“In a manner of speaking. It gave us more time with her than we would have had, if we hadn’t moved. Her prognosis was less than two years in England. She outlived that by nearly seven years. We had to be sponsored by her cousin in New Hampshire, since her medical visa expired.”

“Did she pass away recently?”

“Aye. Five months ago.”

Emma reached over to place her hand on top of his. “I’m sorry, Killian.”

He sighed, then tried to force a smile onto his face. “Thank you. My brother, Liam, stayed here for a couple of months after her passing, but then he moved back to England. I remained behind because there are still some things I need to do to settle Mum’s affairs.”

“Will you go back home after you do that?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I’m not sure I think of England as home anymore. Liam is there, but he has a girlfriend, Elsa, whom he met online three years ago. They’ve visited back and forth with each other several times. They’re very serious and are discussing moving in together, so even if I move back, I’ll have to find a flat and a job. I already have a place to live here. We’ve been renting a house in the suburbs since we came over. The landlord is a very kind man who is like family now.”

“Do you have a job? Besides driving for Grubhub, I mean?”

“I work down at the docks, helping to maintain the piers.”

“Do you like it?”

“Aye. I’ve always loved being around the water.”

They both continued eating, before Emma asked another question. “You, um…you didn’t mention a father.”

“He’s not worth mentioning. I was six when he left, so I don’t remember much about him or what happened. Liam was ten and he is pretty sure Da left Mum for someone else. He never sent us any money or attempted to see us.”

“Oh, wow. So your mom had to raise you by herself?”

“Aye, she did, but she never complained or spoke even one harsh word against our father. She said she couldn’t be angry or bitter toward him because he gave her the two greatest treasures of her life.”

“She sounds like a wonderful person.”

“That she was. She deserved so much better.”

They were quiet for a few minutes, thinking about everything they just shared with each other as they finished eating.

Finally, Killian broke the silence. “So tell me, lass. How does it happen that you are home by yourself on New Year’s Eve?”

“I’ve had horrible dates the last three years and I didn’t want to increase the streak to four.”

“Do you mind me asking what made them so horrible?”

She laughed humorlessly. “Three years ago, I was with a guy I had been dating for several months. I thought things were going well all that time. Just before midnight, he proceeded to break up with me, saying he wasn’t happy and felt trapped in our relationship. So while everyone was kissing once the new year arrived, I was by myself, crying in a corner of the room.”

“What a complete arse,” Killian commented, an angry edge to his voice.

“Yeah, he really was. I didn’t date again for nearly a year, until my friend Mary Margaret set me up with the owner of a furniture store where she bought a bedroom set. New Year’s Eve was our third date. He was polite, easy to talk to, and wasn’t aggressive. He never even tried to hold my hand or give me a kiss on our dates.”

“Sounds like a perfect gentleman who was letting you set the pace.”

“That’s what I thought, too.”

“What happened?”

“About halfway through the night, he disappeared. We were all at our friend Regina’s house, and when I started asking people if they had seen him, everyone said they hadn’t. It was a pretty big party with close to forty people, so it took me a while to finally realize he wasn’t anywhere to be found downstairs. That’s when I decided to check the bedrooms upstairs.”

“Oh, no. Don’t tell me you found him with another woman.”

“Well, I did find him…but not with another woman.”

“Who was he…” Killian began, then realization set in. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope, not kidding. That explained why he wasn’t in any hurry to show me any kind of affection.”

“Wow,” he commented simply. “I wonder why he agreed to go out with a woman in the first place, if that was his inclination.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t stick around to find out. I still haven’t let Mary Margaret hear the end of it, and if she even hints that she wants to set me up with someone…”

“I’m sure you shut that down very quickly.”

“Yep. Which brings us to last year.”

“I can’t imagine it being much worse than the previous two.”

“It wasn’t, but it was still bad. This time, my friend Ruby set me up with a guy she knew. I should have known better, because Ruby is a bit off-the-wall. I mean, I love her, but she is very quirky. Anyway, this guy shows up wearing an orange top hat.”

Killian started laughing. “Did he have the matching tuxedo? Perhaps he was a big fan of Dumb and Dumber.”

Emma joined in the laughter. “No orange tux, but he definitely would have fit right into that movie. We were at Regina’s again and he found out she had a sewing machine and a basket full of material. He spent a couple of hours sewing the scraps together to make this sort of shawl thing. Then he brought it out to the party and performed some sort of dance with it, waving it around like he was a bullfighter. It was the most bizarre thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

“I take it you won’t let Ruby try to set you up, either?”

“You got that right.”

“I can certainly understand your reluctance to have another New Year’s date.”

“Which is why I’m home by myself, indulging in copious amounts of Chinese food and binge watching The Great British Baking Show.”

“Is the new season out?” he asked with a note of excitement.

“Yeah, it’s been out for a couple of months but I don’t like to watch it one episode at a time. I hate having to wait a whole week.”

“I can understand that.”

“You like that show, too, I take it?”

“Aye. It was one of Mum’s favorites and we always watched it together. I won’t get to see it this year, though. I’ve been canceling some subscriptions, and Netflix was one of them.”

Emma opened her mouth to tell him he could stay and watch it with her, but before the words came out, she had second thoughts. She didn’t want to give him the idea that she was coming on to him.

As she watched him putting another spoonful of fried rice on his plate, she began debating with herself. The poor guy hurt his back because of her negligence, but he didn’t have any hard feelings. Having him for company was better than spending the entire evening alone, and she was truly enjoying their conversation. Plus, she told him she would be watching one of his favorite shows, so not inviting him to stay and watch it with her would be rude. Wouldn’t it?

“Swan?” His voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Oh, uh…I was thinking that you could, um…that is, if you want to, you could watch the show with me.”

“I wasn’t fishing for an invitation…”

“I know, and please don’t feel pressured to accept. I just wanted you to know that you’re welcome to stay.”

“That’s very kind of you, Emma, but I don’t want to infringe on your evening.”

“I was looking forward to having a relaxing evening at home instead of dressing up and going out, but I’m okay with you being here. As long as you don’t mind seeing me in my oldest, comfiest sweats.”

“You still look quite fetching,” he grinned. “In all honesty, I was dreading spending the evening by myself, especially since it’s my first New Year’s Eve without Mum. Perhaps slipping on the ice was a fortunate turn of events.”

“Your back may not agree,” she quipped. Plucking the remote from the coffee table, she powered on the television and brought up Netflix. “Make yourself comfortable. My plan was to watch the first three episodes, then make popcorn and hot chocolate. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” he said, following her lead and propping his feet on the coffee table.

“Oh, wait. Before we start, I’ll get you a fresh ice pack,” she said, hopping up and holding out her hand for the melted one.

When she came back, he took the new one from her, commenting, “You’re a very good caregiver, Swan.”

“Thanks, Jones,” she replied with a smirk.

“Apologies. I’m used to referring to my coworkers by their last names.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I have no issue with being called by my last name.”

“It fits you.”

“Thanks. I picked it myself.”

He scrutinized her with a raised brow. “Truly?”

“Yeah. After I ran away, I didn’t want to be tracked down by my last name, so I started calling myself Emma Swan. I had it changed officially once I was older and had enough money to pay for it.”

“How did you come up with Swan?”

“From the Ugly Duckling. I always liked that story and could relate to that poor little duck nobody wanted.”

 “But it transforms into a lovely swan, just like you did.”

“I don’t know about that, but I’m happy I didn’t have to keep the name CPS came up with for me. It never felt right to me.” While she was talking, she was flipping through the options on Netflix to find The Great British Baking Show. Clicking on it, she said, “I haven’t missed a single season of this show. The contestants always astound me with the stuff they bake.”

“Aye, me as well. Are you a baker yourself, Swan?”

“Pfft, far from it. I tried to make a cake once and failed miserably. And it was from a box! Apparently it’s important to read the directions. Who knew?”

Killian laughed. “Perhaps you’ll try again someday.”

“Maybe. In the meantime, I’m going to watch twelve people do amazing things and then get kicked off one by one because what they spent hours baking wasn’t perfect.”

“Do you ever choose a favorite contestant?”

“Every time.”

“Is it ever the eventual champion?”

“Never.”

He laughed again. “Same with me. Mum, on the other hand, had a knack for selecting the person who either won it or at least got into the top three.”

“She must have known a lot about baking.”

“Not really. I think she was just lucky.”

Emma clicked on the episode and they settled in to watch, laughing at the co-hosts and making bets on who would be Star Baker and who would be the first to leave the tent. When Killian was right on both counts, he thrust his arms up in the air, exclaiming, “Yes!”

“You must have inherited your mother’s knack,” Emma observed.

“Perhaps she was whispering in my ear,” he said, a slightly sad smile on his face.

She reached over to pat him on the knee. “She probably was.”

Before they started the next episode, Killian asked, “Would you please direct me to your bathroom?”

“Sure.” She turned in her seat and pointed behind them. “Down the hall, first door on the left.”

“Thank you,” he said, standing and stretching.

As he twisted at the waist, Emma asked, “How does your back feel?”

“Not bad. I think the ice packs and ibuprofen helped.”

“Good.”

She watched him leave the room, then took the ice pack to return it to the freezer. After that, she cleared off the coffee table, putting the leftover food in the refrigerator and the dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

When she returned, Killian was once again sitting on the sofa, looking at his phone. He didn’t seem to notice that she re-entered the room, so she took a few moments to study him. Now that she had a chance to get to know him a little, she found him even more attractive, because she now knew there was more to him than just a pretty face.

Finally resuming her seat, she picked up the remote again. “Ready for the next episode?”

“Uh, give me a second. I just got a message from Liam. It’s already past midnight there and he’s wishing me a Happy New Year.”

“You can call him if you like. I don’t mind waiting.”

He turned his startling blue eyes on her. “Thanks, I think I will.”

Standing from the couch, she said, “I’ll give you some privacy.”

“Oh, there’s no need. I don’t mind if you overhear our conversation. Actually, I think I’ll Facetime him instead. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen his ugly mug.”

She giggled. “Spoken like a true brother.”

Grinning, he put the call through. While he was greeting his brother, Emma busied herself with checking her own phone, responding to messages from Mary Margaret and Ruby, received while she was watching the show.

“Say hi to my brother, Swan.”

Glancing up, she was surprised to see him holding his phone up to her. A man with similar facial features as Killian, but with lighter, curly hair was on the screen, smiling at her. “Hello, lass.”

“Oh, uh…hi. Happy New Year,” she responded.

“The same to you. I’m sorry you have to spend it with my git of a brother.”

“Hey!” Killian protested.

Emma laughed. “Inviting him to watch The Great British Baking Show with me was the least I could do after he fell on the ice on my sidewalk. He was delivering my dinner.”

“He said he fell and you took pity on him. I figured it was because of his own clumsiness.”

A female voice came through the phone. “Liam, stop teasing Killian. He was sweet enough to call and you’re being mean.”

The face of the woman speaking came into view on the screen. Emma saw she was beautiful, with almost white-blonde hair and large, expressive eyes. “Hello. You must be Elsa.”

“Yes, that’s me. Forgive me, but I didn’t catch your name.”

“I’m Emma Swan. It’s very nice meeting you, and you too, Liam.”

“The pleasure is ours, lass,” Liam said. “All kidding aside, we’re very happy Killian isn’t alone this evening. I was afraid he was sitting around the house moping.”

“He’s been very good company,” she assured him.

Killian scooted closer to her so they could both be on the screen. “We should let you get back to your party,” he said.

“Yes, I’m sure Anna will come looking for us soon,” Elsa said.

“Thank you for calling, little brother,” Liam added. “We miss you.”

“I miss you, too, but I do not miss being called little brother. I’m younger.”

“And two inches shorter, so technically you’re little, also.”

Before Killian could reply, Elsa cut in, “That’s enough, boys. Emma will think all the two of you ever do is argue.”

Emma laughed as Killian said, “Happy New Year, you two. I’ll talk to you again soon. Love you.”

“We love you, too. I hope this new year will be a better one for both of us,” Liam responded.

Killian glanced at Emma. “I think it’s getting off to a pretty good start.”

She listened to them finish their goodbyes, a little surprised that his statement didn’t make her uncomfortable. In fact, she felt the exact same way.

*********

They were halfway through the sixth episode when Killian checked the time on his phone. “It’s eleven fifty seven,” he announced.

“Oh!” Emma said, pushing her empty mug and popcorn bowl out of the way to find the remote. “Would you like to watch the ball drop?”

“Sure.”

She quickly exited Netflix and searched for a channel covering the party in Times Square. As they watched the raucous scene, she commented, “I would hate to be in that crowd.”

“Aye, me too. I much prefer being in a quiet place.”

The ball began to drop. When it reached ten seconds to go, the two of them counted along with the mob of people on screen. It hit zero, lighting up the year ‘2024’, then it switched to another camera showing people in the crowd sharing kisses.

Emma glanced at Killian out of the corner of her eye. At the same time, he took his eyes off the television and looked at her. “Happy New Year, Emma,” he said quietly.

“Happy New Year, Killian.” Her eyes flicked down to his lips, lingering for a second before traveling back up again. Then, without conscious thought, she leaned toward him.

The touch of his lips against hers sent a shiver of delight through her. The kiss was brief and left her wanting more, but she pulled back before she could act on that impulse.

Neither of them spoke for several moments. Finally, Killian broke the silence. “Um…perhaps we should finish the episode, then I need to be going.”

“Oh, right,” she said, bringing Netflix back up. They watched the remainder of the show without talking, both preoccupied with thoughts of the kiss they just shared.

As soon as the episode ended, Killian stood up. Emma flicked off the television and stood, too, shifting back and forth on her stockinged feet.

He cleared his throat, scratching behind his ear. “I, um…I thoroughly enjoyed this evening - except for falling on my arse, that is.”

She chuckled. “I apologize again, but I have to say I’m not sorry it led to you keeping me company tonight. It was nice having someone to watch the show with and discuss it.”

“Thank you for inviting me to join you. It brought back good memories of watching it with my mother. I needed that tonight.”

They stood looking at each other for several more moments, then he moved to put on his boots and coat. She walked to the door, ready to open it for him. “Be careful going home. There will probably be some people driving who shouldn’t be on the road.”

He zipped his coat and tugged a blue knit cap out of the pocket, pulling it on over his dark hair. Emma found the addition utterly adorable.

“Well, I guess I’ll be on my way,” he said, stepping toward the door.

“Killian…” she began, then paused. He looked at her expectantly. “I, um, I hate to think that you won’t get to see the rest of the new season. Would you like to come over sometime to watch the rest of the episodes?”

A smile slowly spread across his face. “I would like that very much.”

*********

“Are you sure you don’t want to go out with Mary Margaret and David this evening, Love?” Killian called from the living room.

“I’m sure,” Emma said, coming through the doorway dressed in her oldest sweats, the same ones she wore exactly one year ago. Sitting down beside him on the sofa, she added, “I’m content staying home, doing the same thing I did last year.”

“You mean practically maiming the Grubhub delivery man on your icy sidewalk?”

“Why not? It worked out pretty well for me last year,” she teased, snuggling into his side.

“It’s unfortunate for you I salted the sidewalk, then,” he responded.

“That’s okay. One former delivery driver is more than enough for me.”

“More than enough, huh?” he smirked. “Are you saying I give you more than you can handle, Swan?”

Elbowing him lightly in the side, she said, “Keep it up and when your big brother calls, I’m going to tell him you’re being insufferable.”

“Older brother,” he automatically corrected. “And don’t you dare. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Then behave,” she said, reaching for her phone on the coffee table. “I’m gonna put in our order. Same as last year?

“Works for me, but this time, I call dibs on the pork lo mein.”

She furrowed her brow at him. “Nobody messes with my pork lo mein and lives to tell about it.”

“Have they been teaching you intimidation techniques at the police academy?” he asked, trying to contain his mirth.

She glared at him a few seconds longer, then turned her attention back to her phone, saying, “I’ll put in a double order for it.”

“Grand idea, Love. I’m going to change into my own comfy clothes.”

She watched him leave the room, headed toward their bedroom, then finished placing their food order. While she was waiting for him to come back, she reflected on the past year. It was, by far, the best year of her life. She met Killian, fell in love and eventually asked him to move in with her. For their eight month anniversary, he took her on a trip to England to meet his brother and future sister-in-law. He also encouraged her to pursue her dream of enrolling in the police academy, where she was set to graduate in a little over a month.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Emma blinked and looked up at her love, amazed as always that he was hers.

Grabbing his hand in both of hers, she pulled him down beside her and climbed into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I was just thinking about everything that happened since last New Year’s Eve.”

He tightened his grip on her, running his nose along the slope of her throat. “A lot has happened, all of it good,” he murmured.

“Well, most of it. There was the day I got a flat tire and the time you came down with the flu.”

His low chuckle sounded in her ear, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. “I was able to show you how to change the tire, and you nursed me back to health, so it all turned out good in the end.”

Placing her hands on both sides of his face, she put enough distance between them to be able to look into his brilliant blue eyes. “You made it the best year ever. I love you, Killian.”

“I believe we made it the best year ever, Sweetheart,” he corrected. “I love you, Emma.”

They shared a long, languid kiss that turned into many more, until they were interrupted by the food delivery. As they ate, they began watching the brand new season of The Great British Baking Show, pausing it to call Elsa and Liam at seven o’clock, which was midnight in the UK. Five hours later, they paused it again to ring in the New Year themselves. This time, their kiss wasn’t tentative like the year before, and they continued the celebration in their bedroom.

As they lay together, sated and blissfully happy, Emma whispered, “I wonder what 2025 has in store for us? It surely can’t be better than 2024.”

“I guess we’ll see,” Killian answered, thinking about the contents of a small, black velvet box, hidden in a pair of seldom worn boots, tucked away in the back corner of the closet.

*********

Thank you for reading, leaving comments, liking and reblogging, if you're so inclined. Every one is very much appreciated!

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@beckettj @killihan-jones

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

~*~

1. Hi Mods, I hope you're doing well. Do you have any more Non-Yunmeng Wei Wuxian fics. I've read all the ones in the compilation you have.

Thank you so much! @iseverelydislikeeveryone

Crimson Promise by IceQueen95 (T, 148k, wangxian, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, wen WWX, fem WWX, angst w/ happy ending, sunshot campaign, canonical character death)

🧡 Resplendence by FrozenMarVel ( E, 166k, WIP, WangXian, CS Lives, Rouge cultivator WWX, Crossdressing, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of sorts, Fluff, Explicit smut)

Heart of the Beast by WaitForTheSnitch (E, 132k, WIP, WangXian, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Adopted WWX, WWX is a Niè, Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Oblivious WWX, Protective NMJ, Scheming NHS, Protective NHS, Soft NMJ, NMJ is So Done, NHS Is A Little Shit, Pining, LWJ Has Feelings)

The Phoenix embraced the Sun by Lament_4Piligrim (M, 21k, WWX/WRH, Female WWX, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Time Travel Fix-It, Donghua WRH, Good Person WRH, Past wangxian, Older WWX, Six Great Clans, Wei Clan exists, Wei Clan practises demonic cultivation and world being ok with that, Wei Ying becomes Madam Wen, She loves and is loved, Sentient Burial Mounds, Wei Ying adopts Wen Ruohan's sons and teachs them love, Protective Wei Sect, Protective Wēn Sect, WRH has some mental issues, CSSR & WCZ Live, ,Family Feels, Slow Burn, Sect Leader Wen bashing, WWX's got a little brother, Dark Past, Self-Sacrificing WWX, WIP)

When Flowers Spring from Killing Things by windsweptice (B0redaf) (Not rated, 100k, wangxian, Wen WWX, Demonic Cultivation, WWX Has No Golden Core, he's got a resentful one instead, Yīn Iron, WRH pov, LWJ pov, WWX pov, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiāngs, Sentient Burial Mounds, XY Is A Little Shit, WQ pov, Protective WWX, Protective WQ, Cinnamon Roll WN, Protective WN, LXC pov, BAMF WWX, Burning of the Cloud Recesses, Fall of Lotus Pier, Cultivation Discussion Conferences, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WN, BAMF WQ, Good Person WX, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Weddings)

With you is all I need to know by mocheng (M, 47k, wangxian, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Dom WWX/Sub LWJ, Older WWX, Rogue Cultivator WWX, POV Multiple, OCs, Curses, Light Dom/sub, Embedded Images, Case Fic)

teeth pushing together, hands clasped by SpeedingCheetah (T, 24k, LSZ & WWX, wangxian, LWJ & WWX, Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, POV WWX, YLLZ WWX, WWX Adopts LSZ, WWX is BSSR's Disciple, Rogue Cultivator WWX, highly implied lwj/wwx during the war, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Pining WWX, triggers are in the notes)

~*~

2. Hey there, lovely people! There are plenty of fics where WWX time travels into the past, but I'm wondering if there are any where he travels forward in the timeline (not just as some sort of 'glimpse of &/or conversation with his future self' deal, but actually ending up in the future). Like maybe something where his 13/16 years of not being around is because he literally skipped over those years? @thispatternismine

Confusion by Vrishchika (Not rated, 5k, wangxian, time travel)

Would You Come Home? by s6115 (Not rated, 46k, WangXian, Junior Quartet Centric, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Junior Quartet Dynamics) this story doesn't feature a lot of actual wwx (tho he very much plays a part) but technically it fits the prompt and it's a great fic

Through The Abyss by bluesloth (T, 53k, WIP, WWX & JL & JC, Time Travel, Canon Era, Friendship, Drama, Humor, Explicit Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death)

忘不了你的爱 (can't forget your love) by PorcupineGirl (G, 25k, WangXian, Time Travel, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivators AU, Canon Divergence, Time Traveler WWX, discussion of canonical character deaths, a whole lot of handwaving, conveniently localized fires, Discussion of Canonical Suicide Attempt, mostly happy but slightly bittersweet ending)

~*~

3. Hiiiii! I’m in the mood for stalker WWX and/or LWJ aaand age difference/power dynamics btw wx :)

Obelus by Celestios (Not rated, 167k, wangxian, rape/non-con, non-con elements, NO rape, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Punishments, Spanking, Punishments, Dubious Morality, Dubious Consent, physical discipline, Physical Abuse, Toxic Relationships, Abusive Relationship, Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, mention of violence, mention of drugs, Mention of alcohol, Possessive Behavior, Obsessive Behavior, Unhealthy Relationships, dark LWJ, Baker WWX, Bodyguard WN, Mentions of weapons, Gun mentions, Slow Burn, Long, Doctor WQ, Self Medicating, WWX has ADHD, Trauma Bonding, Psychological Manipulation, Gaslighting, Organized Crime, underground crime, Underground business, illegal business)

~*~

4. Hi! a) any canonverse fics where wwx pretends to be a woman?

b) might be overlap with above but fics where identity of yll is a secret? wwx can be though dead or doing a double life, i just wanna see ppl being afraid of this new super powerful player on the board @chellsky

4A)

By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal)

Fruit-Bearing Pool by rei_moon (T, 46k, wangxian, Mpreg, Crack Treated Seriously, Magical Pregnancy, Magical Pool, Out of Character, Inspired by Journey to the West’s Motherhood River, Historical Inaccuracy, WWX became a business mogul to feed his growing family, Minor OCs, Slow Build, Attempt at Humor, Crossdressing, For disguise purposes, Fix-It of Sorts, WWX and JZX being human disasters together, Misunderstandings, WIP)

crushed ceramic by doyeorem (pomellogranate) (T, 10k, JC & JL & WWX, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Yúnmèng Siblings Feels, Yúnmèng Jiāng Sect, Family Feels, Genderqueer WWX, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, i think, Misunderstandings, re: lxc, Disguise, Crossdressing, Whump, but it’s more mentioned/implied then detailed, Sibling Bonding, uncle bonding)

My Leaves Reach Ever for the Sun by nonplussed (T, 26k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fix-It, Crossdressing, Idiots in Love, Sharing a Bed, Happy Ending, Mutual Pining)

deeper than the ink by loosingletters (M, 44k, JC & WWX, LSZ & WWX, WQ & WWX & WN, JYL/JZX, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt/Comfort, Family, WQ Lives, Not Everyone Dies au, Sibling Bonding, Good Sibling JC, Good Sibling WWX, Yúnmèng Jiāng Sect, Cultivation Sect Politics, Communication, Secrets, Lies, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Trans WWX, Crossdressing, Child LSZ, Pre-Relationship, WIP) first in the series of in the name of love

今非昔比 Jīn fēi xī bǐ by XieJianRou (Not rated, 119k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, fem WWX)

4B)

The Scarlet Lotus by rainbowninja167 (M, 137k, WangXian, Marriage of Convenience, Secret Identity, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical war crimes, Yunmeng Bros, the mortifying ordeal of getting seduced by your own husband, nonlinear chronology we die like cql, just kidding nobody dies in this fic, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication)

only the dead (have seen the end of war) by comforting_monachopsis (T, 42k, WangXian, Temporary Amnesia, BAMF WWX, Sad LWJ, Grief/Mourning, Mild Gore, Medical Inaccuracies, Secret Identity, Loss of Identity, Identity Porn, The Science of Cultivation, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Angst and Humor, Crossdressing, WWX is Bad at Feelings)

if you can’t beat them, recruit them by moeblobmegane (T, 228k, Time Travel Fix-It, Conspiracy, Spies & Secret Agents, Team as Family, Found Family)

~*~

5. A) wwx older than jyl n jc

B) wwx taking care of/being responsible for jc n jyl

C) anything that fits the song ' we have each other - Alec Benjamin '

5A)

a decade more to breathe by loosingletters (T, 2k, JYL & WWX, JC & WWX, Canon Divergence, Older Sibling WWX, Fix-It, Family, Hurt/Comfort, WWX is a Jiāng, just a bit of sect politics)

After We Say This series by TiredAndTired (T, 10k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & WWX, JC & WWX & JYL, Age Swap, Age Reversal, Good Parent YZY & JFM, Pining, First Dates, NHS Ships It, Give LWJ Friends, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Family Feels, Secret pregnancy, Implied/Referenced Sex, Mpreg)

~*~

6. For the the itmf can we have some classic there is only one bed / stuck in a tiny space wangxian? Can be canon or au just put them boys in situations!

The Look You Give by alightbuthappypen (dairyme) (E, 8k, wangxian, Sharing a Bed, First Time, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Anal Fingering, Bottom LWJ, PWP, Porn with Feelings)

Three Days, Two Nights by ScarlettStorm (E, 21k, WangXian, modern au with cultivation, Canadian Shack, only it's in rural china so the shack is not canadian, Comedy, Pining, snuggling for warmth, Getting Together, Trans WWX, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Frottage, only wwx is a dude so it's not really cunnilingus, it's getting his dick sucked, switch rights) Stuck in a cabin, UST, trans male WWX, good stuff!

~*~

7. For your next itmf I'm looking for fics that features a petty lwj and people, especially wwz and juniors calling him out on it

~*~

8. Helloooo I sent an ask a while back about fics that go into Wei Wuxian using his "A-Xian is three years old!" Phrase as a way to cope with his childhood trauma (like him actually reverting to three sometimes or using it as a way to avoid things...etc). It's been a while since I sent it in and someone did write a fic based on that ask if I remember correctly, but I was wondering if any new fics popped up about it? Please let me know! (Also no sexual age play pls)

~*~

9. hello! thank you for your hard work, and the followers for the help. ITMF a long wwx-centric fic where he is appreciated, and there's very little romance (not much pining and mooning from wwx)

~*~

10. Hey mods ~ A) can you suggest me any fics where Lwj is extremely obsessed with Wei ying ...

B) or Any college/ university Au wangxian but with fluff @selflovingmedj

10A)

A Matter of Time by mrcformoso (E, 44k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, POV LWJ, POV JC, Dark LWJ, Manipulation, Grooming, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, Except problematic please read warning in first chapter, Blood and Violence, Insane LWJ, Manic LWJ, Conditioning, WWX is a Lán, Minor Character Death, Confused JC, Golden Core Reveal, Good Friend NHS, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Abusive Jiāng Family, Jiāng Family Bashing, Jiāng Family Critical, POV NHS, Dark NHS, Anal Sex, Marathon Sex, Dual Cultivation, Qīnghéng-jūn Lives, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Self-Lubricates, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Scheming NHS, Manipulative NHS, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX)

Obelus by Celestios (Not rated, 167k, wangxian, rape/non-con, non-con elements, NO rape, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Punishments, Spanking, Punishments, Dubious Morality, Dubious Consent, physical discipline, Physical Abuse, Toxic Relationships, Abusive Relationship, Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, mention of violence, mention of drugs, Mention of alcohol, Possessive Behavior, Obsessive Behavior, Unhealthy Relationships, dark LWJ, Baker WWX, Bodyguard WN, Mentions of weapons, Gun mentions, Slow Burn, Long, Doctor WQ, Self Medicating, WWX has ADHD, Trauma Bonding, Psychological Manipulation, Gaslighting, Organized Crime, underground crime, Underground business, illegal business) link in #3

10B)

But really, why? by Scrippio (T, 52k, wangxian, modern, college/university au)

how to fall in love with a catfish: a guide by wei wuxian (disaster rat) by bwyn, Yuisaki (T, 54k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Actors, Multimedia, Online Friendship, Drunken Shenanigans, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Underage Drinking, Drinking Games, Families of Choice, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Catfish AU)

we’ll get him falling for a stranger (or a catfish) by sweetlolixo (T, 38k, WangXian, Modern AU, College AU, Catfish AU, Eventual Happy Ending, Crossdressing WWX, Pining LWJ, Fluff, Humor, lwj is a grade A+ SIMP, Identity Porn)

The Twin Jade Problem by bonyenne (T, 22k, WangXian, LWJ & LXC, Getting Together, Modern AU, College/University, comedic misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Yes a little bit of angst BUT IT IS RESOLVED (relatively) quickly, POV Multiple, POV Third Person Limited, Happy endings for all involved, Humor)

(Planning the Day) To Meet You by Bettydice (E, 61k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Mutual Pining, WWX raises A-Yuàn, minimum angst, MAXIMUM GAY, Self-indulgent fluff, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, POV LWJ, Happy Ending, Getting Together, Falling In Love, Masturbation, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, Intercrural Sex)

the earthquake in the room by phnelt (E, 39k, WangXian, College/University, Modern: No Powers, Canada, Getting Together, Mentions of lwj/others, inter-faculty romance, strangers to lovers to frenemies to lovers, mostly book characterisation)

Stumbling Into You by Magnolia822 (E, 39k, WangXian, College/University, Modern AU, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Practice Kissing, Bisexuality, Coming Out, New York City, Denial of Feelings, Mutual Pining, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, Light Angst, Fluff and Smut, Slow Burn, Past WWX/MM, Underage Drinking, Recreational Drug Use, Family Dynamics, Falling In Love, Found Family, Unsafe Sex, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning)

The epic college romance between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan by KizuKatana (E, 58k, wangxian, modern, college/university au, Guest-starring the belated but incendiary sexual awakening of Lan Zhan, 3rd person pov, Su She is hyperfixated on Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan does his best to pretend Su She doesn't exist, Wei Ying isn't even pretending he really doesn't notice Su She exists, MianMian exists and is awesome, implied offscreen wangxian sex, First Time, Lan Zhan's Horny Grip, Lan Zhan does not know what hit him and yet somehow he still realizes it before Wei Ying, canon wangxian dynamics, Lan Zhan starts off annoyed at Wei Ying, But quickly discovers both his competency kink and a caretaking kink, Genius WWX)

in ever deepening degrees by typefortydeductions (E, 26k, wangxian, modern, college/university au, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Dom/sub, Non-Binary NHS, trans LSZ, Smut, lil bit of genderplay)

~*~

11. (disclaimer: i appreciate the effort it takes to write every fic, and regardless of /my/ personal preference, the authors and many people love all kinds of fics obviously) so! may i ask for stories that contain some switching, but still have ****good**** novel characterization of lwj and wwx? i usually filter them out entirely due to preference (i mean yeah yiling laozu hot but he's still wei ying) and i feel like im missing out on some good stuff. thank you! (if d/s then dom lwj ofc!)

Not sure if these fit the bill, but they always read as cql but with novel characterizations. And they are so good. Post-cql setting for both:

out in the garden, there's things you hid away by saltyfeathers (E, 121k, WangXian, Possession, Animal Death, mass death event, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt(s), lotta hurt lotta comfort, wwx-centric, unfortunately there's also a bodily fluids warning, just like a lot of bodily fluids, there is sex and it is all in the last chapter, Serious Injuries, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post canon)

and

Boy Trouble, We've Got Double by saltyfeathers (E, 59k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Case Fic, betrothed to someone else, Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, WWX POV, Protective wwx, WWX centric, explicit stuff only happens between wangxian, (or wwx and his own hand), Masturbation, Alcohol, Consensual Non-Consent, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, straight boy WWX) both by saltyfeathers. A lot of angst in these! All of their Wangxian fics I've read are soooo good.

The Strength to Hold Him by Toshokanin (E, 7k, WangXian, Post-Canon, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Tender, horny, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Light Bondage, Anal Sex, A hint of sex magic, Dual Cultivation, Overstimulation, a soupçon of sex tears, Aftercare, Established Relationship)

~*~

12. in the mood for fics where the whipping caused lwj to suffer permanent consequences (more severe than the three years of "seclusion" + permanent scars). bonus points if he dies because of it

Despair by AmiraAlzilu (M, 3k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, LQR & LWJ, LXC & LQR, major character death, Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grieving LXC, Grieving LQR, LQR Is So Done, Dead LWJ, Dead WWX)

Restart from the End by EmBlu (IcyDeath) (G, 72k, wangxian, major character death, resurrection, role reversal, canon divergence, yiling wei sect au, angst, hurt/comfort,  hurt LWJ, angry WWX, WIP)

the map of days by everythingispoetry (M, 20k, wangxian, canon divergence, angst, hurt/comfort, permanent injury, recovery, disability, parenthood, character study, 13 years of WWX's death)

the anteroom of golden age by everythingispoetry (M, 92k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Disability, Recovery, Mental Health Issues, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Developing Relationship) Ah I just realised for #12 that the story I recced is actually the sequel to the map of days which you already had listed 🤦‍♀️ however it can be read as a stand-alone which is what I had done as I didn’t realise it was part of a series. anteroom focuses on wangxian and is set after mo manor, whereas the first story is lwj-centric and set during the immediate aftermath of the whipping and takes place during the 13 years of wwx being dead.

~*~

13. Do you know any fics similar to concord by deastar??

~*~

14. Hello! ITMF any canon-era stories which focus heavily on spells or the more magical side of cultivation? Could be a curse gone awry, WWX creating a bunch of spells, the juniors attending a mysticism class, etc. Thank you thank you!

~*~

15. Hello, itmf for heavy angst due to misunderstandings between WWX and LWJ like something where LWJ doesn't trust WWX which upsets WWX. Would you please suggest 3 or 4 fictions like that? Thank you in advance. @paraffin22

我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 78k, WIP, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan, not LWJ friendly) not bcuz trust issues b/w them, but super agnsty; i cried so much

Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending) This is a seriously angsty fic because of LWJ's misunderstandings of WWX and he definitely doesn't trust him. Not sure if that's what they're looking for but it broke me quite a few times.

~*~

16. may i ask for fics similar to this one? (It's we that you are for by Vir_Abelasan)

to quote the author's note: One of my biggest kink is for CR study arc wwx to have a teacher like post-timeskip lwj - just someone who would actually take his curiosities and ideas seriously and build a structure around that instead of just trying to stuff him into an ill-fitting, existing structure. [doesn't have to be teacher lwj]

In Walls of Glass by Comfect (T, 43k, LQR & WWX, WangXian, XiCheng, Good Uncle LQR, Teacher LQR, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Butterfly Effect, JC friendly, Family Feels, Cultivation Theory, POV LQR, Seriously the only WWX Bashing is in the first chapter or so and is canonical in LQR’s head, Initial WWX Bashing, Eventual WWX Appreciation, JC appreciation)

~*~

17. hello!!! hope you’re having a great day!! for the next ITMF, I would like to see if there are more fics like Confusion, with the immortal cultivators in modern era! @darlingjunebug

不忘 | Don’t Forget by dragongirlG (E, 50k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Reincarnation, Fix-It of Sorts, Identity Porn, Social Media, Devotion, Reunions, Feelings, Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Bondage, Names, References to Canon, Modern Era, Artist WWX, Sexual Content, Pining, POV Multiple, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note)

A Grand Immortal Made Me Soup by s6115 (G, 5k, JC & WWX, wangxian, canon divergence, Immortal JC, LWJ, Immortality, Alternate Universe, Yunmeng Duo Days, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Jiang Cheng used his immortality to grow and mature, Wei Ying finally reincarnates and the immortal Jiang Cheng isn't going to fail this time, Jiāng Yànlí's Pork Rib and Lotus Root Soup, Good Sibling JC)

Guide by Rainewritesfanfics (G, <1k, LXC & WWX, LXC & LWJ, wangxian, modern, reincarnation au, Immortality, Brothers, Immortal LXC, Immortal LWJ, Reincarnated WWX, Family)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

CS Winter Bingo--Square 5 (receiving a terrible gift): A Match Faked for Christmas, ch. 4

Hi there and happy holiday season!  In an attempt to continue procrastinating my season 4 rewatch drabbles–and to not feel guilty about it–I decided to participate in the CS Winter Bingo event.  I received nine winter/holiday related prompts arranged in a square like a bingo card.  My mission is to make a bingo by writing at least three of my prompts before winter is over, but I’m hoping to do better than that!  I’m hoping to finish all nine!  Given the nature of the event, you can expect a lot of fluff (but then what else would you expect from me, after all?)  I’m hoping to keep them short as well, but I’m usually not nearly as successful at that.  And without further ado, let’s play CS Winter Bingo!

Rating: G

Word count: 1933

Today’s prompt: Fake Dating: Holiday Edition

Other chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (6)

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

Killian adjusted his tie and then glanced in the mirror as he artfully mussed his hair.  Giving himself one last glance, he nodded and then headed out the door.  They’d made it to Christmas Eve, and it was time to pick Swan up for the Nolans’ annual Christmas party.  

A pang went through him at the thought.  They’d nearly reached Christmas, which means it was nearly time to end the ruse.  Oh, they’d never made firm plans about when they would “break up”, but it seemed to be understood that their dalliance wouldn’t last into the new year.

They’d laughed together as they’d strategized exactly how the break up would happen, each proposing more outlandish suggestions for the cause and manner of their relationship’s demise.  It had seemed funny a week ago as they’d trimmed the tree or gone out for coffee or watched a cheesy Christmas movie.

Now, with the reality of it looming so soon, the humor was gone and all that was left was the depressing reality:  Despite his better judgement, he’d fallen in love with Emma Swan.

Oh, he’d been attracted to her from the first–even before this sham relationship started–but this past week, getting to know her, getting glimpses of the real her behind the wall she built, spending time with her, had shown that he didn’t merely fancy her.  He loved her.  He could envision long years ahead with her as his lover and best friend, and it was a future bright with promise.

Instead, within a few days time, it would all be over.  Their break up may be no more genuine than their relationship itself, but the pain….well, that would be real.

He shook his head, letting out a long, slow breath as he knocked on Emma’s door.  Those were sorrows for another day.  Tonight, he had to convince Mary Margaret and David that he and Emma were blissfully happy together.  No difficulty there!  He wouldn’t even have to act.  In fact–

All thought left his head the moment she opened the door.  Emma Swan dressed casually in her jeans and leather jacket was beautiful.  Emma Swan dressed up for a Christmas party was positively dazzling.  After several moments he literally had to force himself to breathe again.

“Swan,” he finally croaked, “you look–”

She smirked.  “I know.”

She wore a sleeveless red satin dress embroidered with sparkly snowflakes.  Her hair was up in a high ponytail, and candy cane earrings hung from her ears.

“So you ready for our big performance as ‘couple in love’?” she asked, as she reached for a white lacy shawl and matching handbag.

He blinked, forcing himself to snap out of it and (hopefully) avoid making a complete idiot of himself.  “I think I’m up to the task.  Where’s your gift?”

She looked at him blankly.

“Swan, don’t tell me you forgot!” he said. “Mary Margaret mentioned a Dirty Santa exchange in the invitation.  We’re all supposed to bring a gift.”

She groaned, slapping a palm to her forehead.  “I can’t believe I forgot.  Now I need to find something…”

She looked around, rummaging through a bit of the organized chaos on her end table, and then landed on a large, rectangular brick of what looked like it was once fruitcake.

“You think this will do?” she asked holding it out to him.

He took the thoroughly unappetizing confection into his hand and grimaced at its weight. “As what, a holiday delicacy or as a festive paper weight?”

She laughed, taking the fruitcake back and tossing it haphazardly into a gift bag. “Giftee’s choice, I suppose.”

He laughed with her this time.  “Well, I suppose half the fun of a Dirty Santa exchange are the…less than ideal….gift options.  Where did you even get that monstrosity?”

“Cleo handed them out with our Christmas bonuses this year,” Emma said, referring to her boss at the bail bonds company.  “I’m pretty sure they’re regifts from last year–or before, given how hard and stale this thing is.”

“Well, let’s hope the proud new owner of said fruitcake chooses to go with the paperweight option rather than attempting to ingest it.  So Swan, are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she said, putting on a large winter parka.  Killian helped her on with her second arm, and then gently pulled her hair free from the coat.  It was so soft, so silky, he longed to bury his fingers in it as he pulled her close and kissed her until they were both breathless.

He pulled his hand away and curled it into a fist.  Best not let his thoughts head in that direction. He opened her door and gestured her to precede him, before closing it behind them.

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

The Nolans’ Christmas party had been fun.  It had been a relatively small affair.  Aside from Emma and Killian, they’d invited Ruby and Graham, along with Granny, who was doing the catering, Leroy and his brothers, Astrid and Blue, and a handful of others Killian didn’t yet know.

It had been a night of good food, good company, and lots and lots of laughter.  There had been only one awkward moment when Astrid had asked how they’d met.  He and Emma had answered in unison.

“In the produce aisle at the store, over a grapefruit.”

“I brought him a plant when he first moved in.”

Killian saw David give them a confused look, but he managed to play it off by putting an arm around Emma’s waist, pulling her close, and saying “Well whenever it was we officially met, it was the most fortunate moment of my life.”

She’d smiled up at him then, and if he didn’t know better, he’d say the look in her eyes approached affection, maybe even adoration.

The Dirty Santa game had been a raucous affair replete with all manner of holiday larceny.  In the end, Leroy had received Emma’s epicly bad gift.  He’d scowled at his misfortune, and then shrugged.  “Well, sister, at least now I have something to use to bash people over the head when they annoy me.”

But it wasn’t until the end of the evening when things really took a turn.

“Well look at that!” Ruby drawled, pointing one well manicured finger above the spot where Emma and Killian were standing together.  “It seems someone has found the mistletoe. Pucker up!”

Killian shot a startled glance above his head as his heart started pounding.  Sure enough, there it was, a big, bountiful sprig of mistletoe.  He heard Emma gasp beside him, and he looked down into her eyes, which had suddenly widened almost comically.

“I…uh…um, well, we–” she began babbling a bit inanely.

“I think what the lass is trying to say is that we’re not big on public displays of affection,” Killian answered, his voice not quite steady.

She shot him a grateful look, but if he’d thought that statement would mollify Ruby, he was sadly mistaken.

“Sorry,” she said, sounding anything but. “You get caught under the mistletoe, you plant one on each other.  Them’s the rules.”

Killian glanced at Emma’s red lips, his breath catching and his heart beating so quickly it couldn’t be healthy.  Kiss Emma Swan? He’d do so in a heartbeat. He’d kiss her over and over and never stop if he had his wish.  But above all, he was a gentleman, and mistletoe or no mistletoe, he wouldn’t push her for more than she was willing to give.

He moved his glance from her lips to her eyes, wordlessly asking her permission.  She was still for a long moment, merely looking into his eyes, and then she almost imperceptibly shrugged.

It was all the urging he needed, he touched his lips to hers, so lightly and gently the kiss was barely there at all. He pulled away almost immediately.

Only to have her surge forward and capture his lips with her own.  He groaned, his arms coming around her, hers burying themselves in his hair as she pulled him closer, closer.  The rest of the world fell away as her lips parted and he eagerly accepted her invitation to pillage and plunder.

It was only long moments later when the cheers and catcalls all around them brought Killian back to his senses.  He pulled away, chest heaving and, no doubt, cheeks flaming.  He brought two fingers up to his lips in awe, as he looked into Emma’s startled eyes.

“That was…” he whispered.

“Not anything I expected to happen,” she answered, voice breathless and far from steady.

It took Killian several moments to compose himself, but finally he turned back to Ruby.  “Well, did we satisfy the laws of mistletoe?”

She grinned saucily.  “Anymore, and you’d have needed to get a room.”

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

David Nolan put an arm around his wife as they sat together on the sofa before their Christmas tree several hours later.

“Congratulations on another successful Christmas party, honey.” he said, turning his head to kiss the top of her head.

“It did go well, didn’t it?” she asked.  “And my other project–setting up Emma and Killian.  It couldn’t possibly be going better!”

David gave her a curious, slightly uncomfortable look.  “Mary Margaret, I hate to point this out; I really do, but surely you realized the two of them are no more actually dating than Leroy and Granny are.  The way they didn’t know basic facts about their relationship.  The deer in the headlights look they both had at the prospect of kissing under the mistletoe…”

Mary Margaret waved a dismissive hand. “Well of course they’re not actually dating. Yet.  That was never the plan.”

“What?” he asked, pulling away and looking at her in surprise.  “It wasn’t?”

She laughed.  “Of course not!  I knew they wouldn’t actually fall for my little Christmas card ruse.”

“So you…don’t….want them together?” he asked in utter bewilderment.

“Of course I do, you silly man,” she said.  “I just knew I needed to play a little 4-D chess to accomplish my goal. They needed a shared purpose, a reason to be in each other’s company.  What better way than to team up to defeat the over-eager matchmaker?”

David shook his head and laughed.  “Let me guess.  You figured they’d fake date, but the time spent together would make them realize their feelings were real.”

She snapped her fingers.  “Exactly.  And did you see that kiss?  That was not the action of a couple of people who are indifferent to each other.  I’d say we have somewhere between a few hours and a few days of denial, and then voila.  The fake relationship turns thoroughly and beautifully real.”

David leaned over and kissed her, laughter still in his eyes.  “Mary Margaret, I love you like crazy, but I’ve got to admit.  Sometimes you scare me.”

She grinned cheekily.  “It’s a gift.  Now the only question is where to turn my matchmaking attentions once Emma and Killian are settled and happy?  You know, I thought Leroy and Astrid looked pretty cozy at the party tonight…”

Notes: We are approaching the end!  Only one more chapter to go!  Up next: Emma and Killian have to confront the truth of what that kiss exposed.  Is Mary Margaret right?  Will their sham relationship turn real, or will they have their planned public breakup?  (If you don’t know the answer to that, I might have to question your intelligence, hehe.)

–Bingo note:  And with this one, I’ve officially gotten a bingo!  I’ve covered all three squares on the right side!  Let’s see if I can get another one before this fic is over!

NEXT CHAPTER->

[laianely]

Ho Ho Ho! It is your secret Santa dropping into your chimney at the death of night to leave you this ask- oops that sounded stalkerish...just like how I stalk your page for your lovely edits! Enough with my terrible attempts at (dark??) humor and let's get into the thick of it (*eyes the KSI memes*). Oops looks like I'm already rolling away from the topic. So my dear giftee I have a few questions for you- what is your favorite captain swan scene and what are your favorite tropes? If you'd like to share a favorite fanfic (or a feww) too that would be lovely. Hopefully this wasn't very question heavy (or bad humor centric)- I'm writing this 5 minutes before my sleigh driving test (yeah don't tell peeta I said it was the reindeer doing the work). In all seriousness, I do apologize for the delay its exam week and I didn't check my email until today. I look forward to your response and I'm hoping you have a great week!

Yours truly

Santa number one million and one

Hey Santa! Nice to meet you! I like your enthusiasm in stalking me, haha 🙃

My favorite CS scenes ● "You traded your ship for me?" ● Their first dance at the ball ● Middlemist field kiss ● Killian's death in 5x8 ● Killian's death in 5x11 ● Elevator scene in 5x20 Some fluff, some angst - full range of emotions 😅 I love time travel theme and love their "Back to the Future" adventure. Also love the whole plotline with Dark One Killian, his death and his resurrection.

2. As for my favorite fanfics I'm a huge fan of the series "Alone, Until I Get Home" now. I love the great balance of fluff, angst, casual family moments and magic curses in it. Also I love "Breathe Out (So I Can Breathe You In)" - it's some kind of character exploration of Killian through his dreams. "Stolen Hearts" - Captain Duckling fanfic with the good balance of adventures, love and smut. "Straight to You" - 1000% angsty work where Killian and Emma were cursed and separated. And she needs to find him and to give birth to their child before his 32 birthday. Otherwise he will die and this loop will begin again. Thank your for your questions:) I hope it will help. Have a great week!

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "And All the Trimmings"

These next couple of weeks, I'm going to highlight the Thanksgiving fics I have written over the years. I've always loved the holiday, and there aren't enough fics for it (in my humble opinion) so I've tried to create a few at various times along the way. This one is some Thanksgiving fluff written during 5B as I anxiously hoped for them to return from the Underworld with their hero party still intact and a pirate in tow. Nods to CS, Snowing, and OQ in here; Thanksgiving is a whole family holiday after all! ;p  Anyway, I think that’s it, other than it obviously being canon divergent now, since things did not pan out nearly so happily upon their return from Underbrooke.  Still, enjoy – and please let me know what you think if you’re so inclined!

**Also available on ff.net or AO3, as a part of my one shots collection "Of Swans and Swords and Hopeful Hearts**

by: @snowbellewells

“Charming?” his lovely wife’s voice rings brightly from the loft’s small kitchen right into the erstwhile Prince of the Enchanted Forest’s ears as he bustles through the door of their apartment, arms full of groceries and cheeks red from the first deep chill and frost of the year. “Is that you?”

“Yes, Snow, I’m back!” he calls, bemused smile quirking up one side of his mouth. A chuckle escapes David Nolan’s throat at how happy and excited his Princess sounds. Setting his purchases on the table until he can hang his coat back on its peg, he shakes his head with affectionate good humor and goes to meet her in the kitchen.

If he’s honest with himself, David is nearly as anxious and thrilled as Snow. After all, their entire family, with all its odd, extended members, will soon be gathered here with them for the first Thanksgiving holiday they have celebrated together. His heart swells at the very idea – even if at the same time he has to simply hope the whole thing will really manage to go off without a hitch…or any bloodshed.

“Looking for these?” he asks with happy teasing in his voice as he enters the kitchen, sets the several plastic bags from the market on the counter, and leans over the center island to plant a kiss on Snow’s upturned lips.

“Yep,” she chirps, beaming at him as they part and reaching in to begin unpacking, “I was.”

Charming moves back into the front dining area, preparing the table and making sure they have enough chairs, seeing that the candles and centerpieces Snows wants are out, and letting her get back to her cooking in the meantime. Between the homemade noodles, green beans, and the mashed potatoes and gravy his wife has simmering all at once, Charming is impressed she can keep everything going without setting anything on fire, much less have the whole apartment smelling good enough to make him drool, and he certainly doesn’t want to distract her from it. No matter how long they have been married, or what realm they find themselves in, it doesn’t take long for Snow to prove that she will never cease to surprise and amaze him.

He has just stepped back to survey his handiwork proudly when the doorbell rings. Swiftly moving forward to answer it before Snow comes running, Charming’s smile grows even wider as Henry bursts into the room, greeting him enthusiastically and launching right into a story of their hectic morning. He is followed by Roland, who is practically bouncing up and down, vibrating with rambunctious energy, his deep dimples cracking wide across his face. After their two boys come Robin and Regina, each laden with items that Charming attempts to help take off their hands.

Robin hands over the delectably scented and delicious-looking turkey, beaming proudly as he gives a nod toward the perfectly crisped and golden brown bird on the platter, which has clearly been charmed in some way by Regina to stay warm and ready to place on the table. “Caught it myself, Mate,” Robin says. “Should be a good one.”

Charming sets the turkey on the long dining table he has just finished with, then claps his friend on the shoulder and ushers him in. “I’m sure it will be. Thanks,” he answers.

Robin slings an insulated bag off his shoulder and holds it forward as well. “Regina’s apple tarts,” he explains with both a mischievous smile and a shrug of feigned innocence. The former thief knows the rest of the family’s understandable aversion to the fruit, but he also somewhat adores his beloved’s rather twisted sense of humor and refusal to shy away from her past by making a dish that highlights the difference in her now and just how far she has come. With a wink, he tacks on, “Taste tested them myself, and they’re irresistible.”

The archer moves past, on into the loft to greet Snow and to catch and corral his young son. Regina raises a sculpted brow at David as she enters after Robin, their new little girl sleeping cradled in her arms and a diaper bag slung over her shoulder. Though David knows all too well that having a newborn in the home can be harrying, the formerly evil Queen looks as completely polished and put together as always – not a hair out of place. “Charming,” she greets with a wry nod, somehow managing to inject even the simplest hello with her trademark dry sarcasm. They may be on the same side now, fumbling towards being a truly non-dysfunctional family, but he somehow feels that her half-mocking way of using the name Snow gave him will never change, and perhaps – in Regina’s own way – it is meant as an endearment.

Peeking into the layers of lavender blanket bundled around Robin and Regina’s little daughter to shield her from the biting wind outside, Charming can’t help a soft grin at the sweet, perfect infant sleeping peacefully, the softest wisps of russet curls on her little head and her soft, pale pink skin. “She’s lovely, Regina,” he murmurs in quiet awe, not wanting to rouse little Mariana, and feeling a flood of affection for this woman who once hunted he and Snow, wanting both of their heads, but who also saved Snow’s life as a child, and has clawed her way back from the bottom to right her wrongs.

Before he can close the door behind her, Emma and Killian come tramping up the hall stairs, cheeks flushed and both laughing at some unknown joke between them, but greeting him heartily as they see that he is standing there watching. Emma reaches David first, falling into her dad’s arms and returning his hug exuberantly before reaching back to pull Killian in as well when he hesitates, effectively sandwiching herself between the two of them in a three-way hug. The laugh that rings from his daughter’s throat, light and open and at last free of the guilt and pain she had been saddled with for too long, is all David needs to be as grateful this Thanksgiving as at any he can remember.

“Thanks Dad,” Emma mumbles almost bashfully when she does ease back and both she and her pirate boyfriend pull away. They follow him into the house, their food contributions in hand.

“Aye, thank you for having us, Mate,” Killian adds with a dip of his chin as they all step through the door and he shuts it behind himself. He offers his love’s father a genuine smile when their gazes meet, Emma having busied herself with hanging up their jackets and removing her boots. For a moment, David is frozen in place, forcibly reminded of how Killian had looked just a few weeks before, when they had found him in the black depths of the Underworld. As long as any of them live, David fears the sight of Killian Jones which had greeted them beyond the Veil would be hauntingly branded on their souls. Chained to a dank stone wall in the furthest recesses of Hades’ domain, the shade of a pirate that they’d found was not the dashing rapscallion they knew. Though bearing his torment in stoic silence, he had been emaciated and shivering, the dark rings under his eyes clearly showing that Killian had known no sleep nor peace since he left their world. The rest of the rescue party had stood horrified as Emma fell to her knees before him, tears pouring down her face while she reached out to cup his bearded cheeks in her hands. Worse than all that though had been the blank, almost unseeing despair in blue eyes that had always been so full of life; the vacancy in their depths no longer seemed like Killian at all and had truly made their blood run cold.

To see that spark back in Jones’ smiling gaze, and the dark bruises beneath his eyes fading, reminds David forcibly just how much they do have to celebrate before he clears his throat to respond with hoarse emotion. “Of course. We’re glad to have everyone. Snow’s really trying to outdo herself.”

Without further ado, David soon finds his family gathered around the table, talking, laughing and reveling in the warmth and happiness of the occasion. There is good natured ribbing at Emma’s continued inability to cook and a playful debate over whether or not the bottoms of several of the butter horn rolls she had made were more burnt than a nice golden brown. Mariana wakes from her nap and begins to gurgle and coo at everyone she can see gathered around her. Snow gushes over the pecan pie that Emma grudgingly admits Killian had made, complete with perfectly crimped edges of crust and an ornate little ‘KJ’ carved into the crunchy sugared top. “Figures,” Charming hears his daughter grumble with teasing chagrin, “He can cook circles around me with only one hand.”

Snow is quick to assure her daughter that she will get better with practice, but Killian only smirks at Emma, looking entirely as though he wants her to either smack or kiss the grin off his face. “Well, I had to sign such artwork, Swan,” he counters playfully. “You might have tried to take credit for it otherwise.”

The whole table laughs and carries on, but is quickly more absorbed in eating than talking, just comfortable in each other’s presence and enjoying a quiet moment. David looks to the other end of the long table and catches Snow’s eye, perfectly understanding the misty look he finds there. This was all either of them had ever wanted: a family, all together, happy and safe. It is what they had sacrificed so much for their best chance at preserving. He smiles at his True Love, marveling that two other pairs of True Loves sit in this very room with them, and tucks into his own meal at last. Now that they have all found each other, this family has every blessing it could possibly need.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @xsajx @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @kazoosandfannypacks @booksteaandtoomuchtv @sotangledupinit @anmylica @stahlop @xarandomdreamx @bluewildcatfanatic @winterbaby89 @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @scientificapricot

[horsetailcurlers2]

masc (ish) emma sq recs:

[ seeeee- idk what masc means to you personally. and as a masc (ish) gay myself, i find ems to be just that in most fics out there. these are just a finessed collection of my faves. all of it on AO3. :) ]

emma swan, professional cuddler - misscanteloupe (9chap/39k words/so much fluff) it starts with emma fixing the door.

even though our love is doomed - whistle_silver (oneshot/24k words/lots of music/literally tagged: everything is beautiful and nothing hurts) very emma gentlewoman vibes also simply just a must-read woops

so does that make us both the other woman? - coalitiongirl (16chap/97k words/its both tender and emotionally chaotic/cs and oq are a thing/lots of angst) nothing specifically masc about it other than emma just being herself.

you again - followthatconvoy (24chap/80k words/80s highschool AU/so much drama/fluff and humor) ems is canonically a masc lesbian. like its a whole thing. im making this into a physical book actually.

HAVE FUN!

ahhhh thank you so much! reading these all immediately :)

[mionedray]

🎄 Ahoy there! 🎄

Guess what? I’m your Secret Santa, and I’m here to whip up something awesome just for you! But hey, I’m not a mind reader, so I’ve got a few questions to help me nail it. Answer as much or as little as you want—spill the tea or just drop me some breadcrumbs!

What’s your favorite thing about Captain Swan? Are you into swashbuckling adventures, tender moments, or something else entirely?

Do you prefer your stories sprinkled with fluff, drenched in angst, or served with a side of humor? Or maybe a mix?

Any favorite tropes you adore? (Enemies-to-lovers, hurt/comfort, daring rescues... I’m all ears!)

Is there anything I should steer clear of so I don’t accidentally land us in the Underworld?

If there’s anything else that would make your gift extra perfect, don’t hesitate to share! Can’t wait to bring some holiday joy your way. 💌

Cheers! 🎁✨

Hallow Hallow!

I knew it Santa was real! See, see *points at imaginary people* Santa is gonna sue you guys for defamation. Now, now its time to put the cringe humour aside and apologize for late response (exams *sigh*). A-KNEE-WAYZ I hope you've been doing well dear Santa- your ask was such a joy to read! Now to answer!

1. This one is hard to answer. I do love the tender moments very much and swashbuckling adventures as well. Like when they went back to the past, camelot or the underworld (almost forgot the season 6 rescue). As for the tender moments I have so many favorites (mostly from season 3 and 5). If you would like me to elaborate on that I will. I don't want to overwhelm you 😭. I have a tendency to ramble.

2. So I am a happy endings girlie (loveeee fluff) and humour is just peak tehee. I don't mind angst (the emotional moments it brings are just so in the feels). Tho knock yourself out I'd love to see anything you come up with.

3. Okay so I enjoy almost all tropes i think. In CS my favorite trope is Captain Duckling (with a dash of enemies to lovers) but in modern Au's- i like friends to lovers (helping each other grow). Oh God (I'm thinking of a million of my favorite fics now 😭). I also like the soul mates trope and I love fics with a Christmas vibe too. Almost forgot the whole dark hook saga too (some of those fics were phenomenal). Basically i like everything 🤣

4. OooooO, I actually do like the idea of being in the underworld (probably not OUAT's tho lol). But yes...umm no tragedies. I also absolutely hate Neal and August and I'd appreciate it if we could avoid tropes like teacher/student or stepcest. Hope that isn't too much 😭

I also want to apologize for this response being a mess 😭 *cries in doing this during breaks*. If you want me to go in detail about anything or just have any other questions let me know. I'll try and answer as quickly as possible. Take care dear Santa- stay safe a hydrated!

[jrob64]

Stupid Questions... (And the Stupid Men Who Ask Them) A New Year’s Fic by @kmomof4

Slipping in one more fic on my most productive writing year yet! @iverna​ @caught-in-the-filter​ and @everything-person​ were discussing an EXTREMELY boneheaded Facebook/Twitter post the other day on the CS Movie Marathon Discord and I decided to write it. I truly hope I did the HYSTERICAL conversation between the ladies justice.

Thank you to @jrob64​ for her beta skills and her guidance on the fic as well as her assurance that the fic really is funny and to @hollyethecurious​ for being a sounding board about what direction to take it in. 

I really hope y’all enjoy and let me know what you think!

Summary: Neal is an idiot and really steps in it. CS gets together. Everyone’s happy.

Rating: T

Words: Almost 2900

Tags: New Years Eve, Neal is Clueless

On ao3

Tagging the usuals. 

@hollyethecurious​ @winterbaby89​ @snowbellewells​ @stahlop​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @jennjenn615​ @kingofmyheart14​ @wistfulcynic​ @branlovestowrite​ @thisonesatellite​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @flslp87​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @let-it-raines​ @shireness-says​ @kymbersmith-90​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @bethacaciakay​ @searchingwardrobes​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @teamhook​ @aprilqueen84​ @qualitycoffeethings​ @superchocovian​ @artistic-writer​ @donteattheappleshook​ @doodlelolly0910​ @seriouslyhooked​ @tiganasummertree​ @lfh1226-linda​ @xsajx​ @klynn-stormz​ @jrob64​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @zaharadessert​ @elizabeethan​ @goforlaunchcee​ @gingerpolyglot​ @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​ @sailtoafarawayland​ @justanother-unluckysoul​ @veryverynotgoodwrites​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @deckerstarblanche​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @batana54​ @purplehawkcaptain​ @k-leemac​ @motherkatereloyshipper​ @apiratewhopines​ @killiansqueenofthejollyroger​ @onceuponahookandswan​ @meat-pie-with-sauce​ @cosette141​ @pirateprincessofpizza​ @xarandomdreamx​ @fleurdepetite​ @hookmecaptain​ @o-wild-west-wind​

*I am updating my tag list for ‘23, so if you want to remain on my list, or be added, please contact me either here or on discord and let me know.*

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Keep reading

[jrob64]

Drummer Boys, Reindeer and Romance

My Secret Santa gift for @mie779

Merry Christmas @mie779 - I'm your Secret Santa this year! I was very excited to get your name and I hope you like the story and pic set I created for you. I tried to work in some of your favorite things. Hope you have a wonderful holiday season!

Many thanks to @hookedmom who took time out from a busy holiday season to beta for me.

With this story, I can cross off one square on my Winter Bingo Board. Stories in that collection can be found here

Story Summary: An empty seat at an elementary school Christmas pageant creates an opportunity for Killian Jones to meet Emma Swan. As they chat between songs, they feel drawn to each other, but Killian has to be brave enough to ask Emma out…and she has to be brave enough to accept. 

Rating: G

Words (Chapter 1/1): 5899

Can also be found on Ao3 and ffn

Stories in the CS Secret Santa 2024 collection can be found here

Story begins under the cut

*********

“Pardon me, lass. Is that seat taken?”

Emma Swan looked up from the program she had been scanning, to see a man standing in the aisle of the auditorium, looking at her expectantly.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“I was wondering if you were saving the seat beside you for someone.”

She glanced at the empty seat to her left. “Uh, no. I’m not saving it for anyone.”

After an awkward pause, he asked, “In that case, would you mind if I sit there?”

“Oh, sorry.” She stood up, letting him pass in front of her.

When they were settled in their seats, he said, “Thanks very much.” Holding out his hand, he added, “Killian Jones.”

“Emma Swan,” she responded, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I don’t think I’ve seen you around Storybrooke before.”

“I live in Portland. I visit from time to time, and stay at my brother Liam’s house when I do. I’m here to watch his and Elsa’s daughters. They’re the two cutest reindeer.”

“Missy and Alice are your nieces? They’re in my son Henry’s class. In fact, I think he has a crush on one of them.”

“Which one?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. They both look alike to me.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “that’s quite common with identical twins.”

She laughed. “You have a point there.”

“Is your son also a reindeer?”

“I wish,” she sighed. “Reindeer are quiet. My son is the little drummer boy. My friend is the music teacher and I’m pretty sure she cast him in that role intentionallly. Her husband has been dying to buy Henry a drum set ever since he was a toddler, but I keep telling him absolutely not. Of course, once my son got the part, he had to practice, so Mary Margaret sent a snare drum home with him. I can hardly wait until this program is over, so I can get that freaking thing out of my house. I love my kid, but he’s driving me crazy with it!”

Killian’s grin stretched wider across his handsome face. “Well, I can assure you that reindeer are not quiet. At least, not in Alice and Missy’s case.”

“I’m sure having two ten-year-olds in the house can be very loud. I only have one and sometimes I swear he’s trying to split my eardrums.”

“With his drum,” Killian smirked.

“You’re hilarious,” Emma groaned sarcastically, rolling her eyes. However, she couldn’t help grinning a little at his attempt to make a joke.

“Are you, uh, are you sure I’m not taking…anyone’s seat?” he asked tentatively.

“If you’re talking about Henry’s father, he won’t be coming. He lives in New York City with his other family. Henry only gets to see him a couple of times a year.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. The less time Henry spends with his dad, the smaller the chance Henry will act like him. After six years, he’s used to taking a back seat to Neal’s other kids.”

She opened the paper she was holding again, scanning the information typed inside. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Killian leaning in slightly to have a look at it, too.

“Didn’t they give you a program at the door?” she asked.

“They were out by the time I got here. I left work as soon as I could, but barely made it. Liam and Elsa weren’t expecting me to come tonight, so they didn’t save a seat for me.”

Emma swiped across her phone to look at the time. “They’re getting started a few minutes late. That’s typical for Mary Margaret because she wants everything to be perfect. She’s probably still gluing cotton balls onto Santa’s beard.” Scooting over in her seat a couple of inches, she held the program between them. “I’ll share with you. Looks like Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer is the next-to-last song.”

Killian perused the offered page. “Your drummer boy looks to be the star of the third song.”

“Pa-rum-pa-pum-pum,” she intoned. He chuckled.

The lights dimmed and Mary Margaret hurried onto the stage as the crowd applauded.

“Show time,” Emma commented, then straightened in her seat to listen as her friend welcomed everyone.

*********

Killian shifted in the cushioned chair and tried to focus on what the lovely, pixie-haired teacher was saying. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to pay attention; rather, it was the distraction of the beautiful woman to his right which was occupying his mind. Through no fault of her own, she was making it very difficult for him to concentrate on the acknowledgements of all of the people responsible for helping with the elementary school Christmas pageant.

When she looked up at him after he inquired about the empty seat beside her, he was instantly struck by her beauty. It had been a long time since he gave any woman a second glance. Having his heart broken three years before caused him to swear off of women for good, and he stuck to it.

He may have to rethink that.

Being intrigued by her looks was one thing, but when she began conversing with him, he was struck by how easy it was to talk to her. She was witty and sarcastic, and put him at ease immediately.

When he verified that he wasn’t taking anyone’s seat, it was also his subtle way of asking if she was in a relationship. He had discreetly checked her ring finger and saw it was bare, but wanted further assurance. He was probably assuming too much by thinking her answer about her ex was proof she was indeed single, because she could be dating someone else. But if she was, that man would surely show up to her son’s Christmas pageant, wouldn’t he?

As crazy as it sounded, after knowing her for all of five minutes, Killian was seriously thinking of asking her out.

*********

Emma could feel the nearness of the man beside her and, shockingly enough, she didn’t mind at all. In fact, she actually found herself leaning toward him.

Her friend Elsa mentioned her brother-in-law to Emma several times, but she had never met him or seen a picture of him. If she had, she definitely would have remembered, because the man was ridiculously handsome. She probably seemed like an idiot when he asked about the empty seat beside her and she didn’t tell him he could sit there right away. She was simply gobsmacked when she looked up at him and had trouble getting her mind to work.

Fortunately, once he sat down, words were easier and the conversation she had with him was very enjoyable. She found herself wishing he had gotten there sooner, so they could have had more time to chat before the pageant began. It had been quite a while since she actually wanted more time to talk to a man. Usually, she wanted them to shut up and leave her alone.

Finding someone to date in Storybrooke was not an easy feat. Not that she put much effort into it. After what she went through with Neal, she swore off dating altogether. He not only broke her heart by leaving her for another woman, he told her he never loved her in the first place and the only reason he stayed with her as long as he did was because she was careless enough to get pregnant. He didn’t seem to realize that he had a little something to do with her ending up in that condition, too. She didn’t regret it, though. Henry was the best thing that ever happened to her. She had been telling herself for years that she loved her kid and he was the only male she needed in her life.

How absurd was it for her to want a chance to get better acquainted with Killian Jones so soon after meeting him?

*********

Killian’s whirlpool of thoughts was interrupted when music began playing and the third and fourth grade students trooped onto the stage to stand on the risers, all of them dressed in homemade costumes for their various roles.

Leaning over, he quietly asked, “Which one is Henry?”

Emma pointed. “The one with the jeans chopped off at the knees, white shirt and a vest made out of a cut up paper bag. Real professional, huh? He reminded me last night that he needed a costume, so it’s the best I could do.”

“I think it’s very effective. He’s supposed to be a poor boy, right?”

They fell silent when a little girl dressed as Mrs. Claus stepped to the microphone to introduce the first song. As Killian tried to lay his elbow on the arm rest, he bumped Emma’s, which was already there.

“Sorry, Love,” he whispered, tucking his arm against his side.

“We can share,” she whispered back, scooting her arm over to give him some room. Under normal circumstances, he would have passed on the offer, but he quite liked how it felt to touch her. Once their elbows were both on the arm rest, he turned his attention back to the stage, where the students dressed as elves were lining up to lead the song Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas, while Mary Margaret was taking her seat behind the piano.

“You were right,” Emma muttered. “Your nieces are the cutest reindeer.”

“Of course they are. They take after their uncle,” he cheeked.

Mary Margaret launched into the accompaniment before Emma could reply.

Frosty the Snowman followed, with students dressed as snow people spinning and dancing on the stage. One snowman twirled himself dizzy and almost fell off of the stage. Luckily, David was quick on his feet, catching the little boy and preventing disaster.

“I can guarantee I’ll hear about what a hero he was for days from Mary Margaret,” Emma remarked as they clapped at the end of the song.

“Your boy is up next,” Killian reminded her.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, scrambling to pull her phone out of her purse.

“Would you like me to take the video so you can sit back and enjoy his performance?”

She looked at him. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all. It would be my pleasure.”

Emma quickly unlocked her phone, pulled up the camera app and set it to video. “You know how to do this, right?”

He chuckled as he took it from her hands. “Don’t worry, Swan. I’m a twenty-first century man, so I do know a fair amount about technology.”

Henry took his place behind the snare drum and smiled widely at his mom. However, once the song started, he was all business, taking his drum solo very seriously. After filming the entire group of students during the first verse, Killian zoomed in on Henry for the rest of the song, capturing his solemn expression as he struck the drum in perfect rhythm.

At the conclusion of the song, Killian turned the phone toward Emma, who was clapping loudly and shouting, “Way to go, kid!” Through the lens, Killian could see the sheen of proud tears in her eyes. He didn’t stop filming until she turned to him to get her device back.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m glad I could enjoy it without having to watch him through my phone screen.”

“No problem,” he assured her. “He did a wonderful job. He just might have a future as a drummer in a band.”

“I hope he’s out on his own by then if he does. I don’t think I could handle all of the practicing.”

Killian chuckled and settled back in his seat to enjoy the next two songs. When it was time for the reindeer to take their place at the front of the stage, he dug his own phone out of the front pocket of his jeans.

“Here, I’ll return the favor,” Emma said, reaching for the phone. “Enjoy your nieces’ performance.”

“Thanks, Love,” he said gratefully.

The song went well until one of the twins accidentally stepped on the other one’s foot, who then pushed the unwitting culprit. A short shoving match ensued between the two of them, until Mary Margaret snapped her fingers at them with one hand, while continuing to play the piano with the other.

Killian scanned the crowd to find his brother and sister-in-law. Liam was trying, and failing, to keep a grin off of his face, while Elsa scowled ferociously at her rowdy daughters.

The rest of the song went on without further incident. When Emma handed his phone back, Killian remarked, “I think the girls might be in for it after this is over.”

“Yeah, Elsa looks pretty peeved.”

“Do you know her?”

“We got to know each other through the PTO, and we’ve become pretty good friends.”

“PTO?” he questioned.

“Parent-teacher organization. We do fundraisers to give the school and staff extra things the district doesn’t provide. We also sponsor fun events for students and their parents, like skating parties and bingo nights.”

“It sounds very beneficial,” Killian commented.

Mary Margaret announced that the final song was Silent Night and after the students sang it through once, the audience was encouraged to join in.

The children, who had just sung Rudolph loudly and exuberantly, now sang the beloved carol with great reverence. A hush fell over the crowd as they listened to the sweet voices. Killian turned his eyes toward Emma and saw her swallow hard, clearly trying to keep her emotions in check. He was a little emotional himself and he didn’t even have a child on the stage.

Killian added his rich baritone the second time through. He could hear Emma’s voice and wasn’t at all surprised that it was as lovely as the lady herself.

As the final notes faded away, she turned to look at him. He smiled and winked, beginning to clap with the rest of the audience. When the ovation was over, she quickly collected her coat and purse. “I have to go get Henry from his classroom. I…it was nice meeting you, Killian. Maybe we’ll see each other the next time you come to town.”

He looked stunned. “Aye, Swan, perhaps we will.”

With a final wave, she was gone, swallowed up by the crowd.

*********

As he watched her walk away, Killian felt like kicking himself. He just let her go, without asking her out or even requesting her phone number. He was sure he wasn’t the only one who felt the connection between the two of them, but now it was too late to act on it.

She did say she was Elsa’s friend, so perhaps he could get Emma’s information from his sister-in-law. That was less than ideal, but it might be his only option.

He sighed, grabbed his coat from the chair and set off to locate his family.

*********

Emma hated leaving the way she did, but she knew Henry would be waiting for her. Telling her son how proud she was of him, trumped hanging around to talk to Killian some more. She truly hoped she would run into him again, sometime.

She wished she would have been bold enough to ask him for his phone number. Of course, she could always get it from Elsa, but that would mean telling her friend she was interested in her brother-in-law. Emma didn’t really want to open that can of worms.

So as she fought her way through the crowd, disappointment rose up within her because she knew she was leaving behind the first guy who drew her interest in a very long time.

*********

“Where’s Elsa?” Killian asked, once he found Liam still occupying the seat he sat in during the performance.

“She went to get the girls. I offered, but she insisted. She may knock their heads together after their antics on stage.”

Killian laughed. “Never a dull moment with those two, is there?”

“Not a single one. Thanks for coming, brother,” Liam said, standing up to clap Killian on the shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I told Missy and Alice I would try to make it and I didn’t want to let them down.”

“You’re a good uncle.”

“The best,” Killian smirked. Then his face took on a serious expression. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure. What’s on your mind?”

“Uh…how well do you know…Emma Swan?”

Liam’s brows raised. “She and Elsa are good friends, so I know her pretty well. Why do you ask?”

Killian scratched behind his ear. “I, um…I sat beside her this evening. I never met her before, but I…she…she seems very nice.”

Liam studied his brother for several moments. “Are you interested in her?” he queried.

His brother shrugged. “I just…we had a good conversation and I thought about…”

When he didn’t continue, Liam supplied, “Asking her out?”

Killian shrugged again. “I know. It’s a stupid idea. I mean, I just met her and we only talked for a few minutes, but…”

Liam stepped in front of him, placing both hands on his brother’s shoulders. “Killian, I know you had a rough go of it with Milah, but you can’t go through life never taking a chance again.”

“Emma probably wouldn’t accept…”

“You won’t know unless you try.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. She went to collect her son and then they’ll leave.”

“Then we’ll go find her before they do.”

“Liam…”

“Killian, a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.”

Killian considered his brother’s words for a few seconds. “You’re right. Let’s go see if she’s still here.”

The pair took off through the nearly empty auditorium. Liam led Killian down one hallway, then nearly ran into Elsa and the girls when they turned the corner.

“There are my lovely ladies,” Liam said, kissing first one of his daughters on the head, then the other. “Good job, my little reindeer.” Seeing the stern look Elsa was giving him, he added, “But perhaps next time you shouldn’t stand right next to each other.”

“It was Missy’s fault,” Alice began, before being cut off by her mother.

“I’ve already talked to you about this,” Elsa reprimanded. “You were both at fault and tomorrow, you will both apologize to Mrs. Nolan.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused. Then they rushed to get a hug from their uncle.

“You came!” Alice cried.

“Told you he would,” Missy said. “Uncle Killy would never let us down, would you?”

“I can’t promise that I never will, but I’ll try my very best not to,” he assured them, one arm wrapped around each twin.

Liam pulled Elsa aside. “Did you see Emma?” he asked.

“Yes, she was picking up Henry at the same time I was getting the girls,” his wife answered. “Why?”

Lowering his voice so their daughters wouldn’t hear, he said, “Killian sat beside her during the performance and they seemed to hit it off. He was hoping to catch her before she left and ask her out.”

Elsa’s expression went from very excited to downcast. “I’m afraid they’re gone already.”

Killian caught what she said and his heart sank. He knew he missed his chance when he let her walk away.

Elsa saw the look on her brother-in-law’s face. “Girls, hug your uncle and tell him goodbye. I’m sure he needs to start back to Portland soon.”

Missy and Alice took turns getting big bear hugs from Killian, then Liam bid him goodbye and took the girls to the car, clearly aware that his wife wanted to talk to his brother alone.

Killian gave Elsa a questioning look. “What do you have up your sleeve?”

“Do you think Emma was attracted to you?”

He shrugged slightly. “I can’t say for sure, but we talked quite a bit and she seemed to like me.”

“The fact that she enjoyed talking to you leads me to believe she does. I love Emma, but she can be a bit prickly. I think you should ask her out.”

“Did you miss the part when you said she already left?”

“I’m going to give you her address, smart guy. Then you can go to her house.”

“Perhaps you should just give me her phone number instead.”

“You will not ask her out over the phone,” Elsa commanded. “That’s too impersonal.”

Killian nodded. “I see your point.” Pulling out his phone, he brought up Google Maps and typed in the address Elsa read from her contacts list. “It’s only a five minute drive.”

“Yes it is, which gives you less time to change your mind.” She gave him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “Now get going. Call us when you’re on the way home and let us know what happened.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting smartly. When she rolled her eyes at him, he grew serious. “Thank you, Elsa.”

“You’re welcome. Now go turn on your charm.”

*********

Ten minutes later, Killian pulled up in front of the small, unassuming house where the GPS led him. After cutting the engine, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, contemplating whether or not he should go through with his plan.

His phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Liam: Remember what I told you. Don’t lose your nerve.

Killian shook his head and snorted out a laugh. Sometimes it was almost scary how well his brother knew him.

“The worst that can happen is she turns me down. I can survive that, right?” he muttered to himself. “Well, I guess we’ll find out.”

He unbuckled his seatbelt, threw open his car door and climbed out. Then he walked up the short sidewalk, lined with lighted plastic candy canes. After knocking on the front door, he nervously brushed one hand through his hair, then tugged at the bottom of his black leather jacket.

The door swung open and he found himself looking down at the little drummer boy, still dressed in his cut off jeans and white shirt, sans the paper bag vest. They looked at each other for a couple of seconds, then Henry turned and yelled, “Mom! Some guy is here!”

“Henry, what have I told you about answering the…” Emma’s words cut off suddenly when she came into view. “Killian?” she questioned disbelievingly.

“Uh, hi. I, um…I hope you don’t mind me stopping by,” he stammered.

She looked flabbergasted. “How did you know where I live?”

“Elsa gave me your address. I hope that was okay.”

Henry looked back and forth between the two adults. “Do you mean Mrs. Jones? Alice’s mom?”

“And Missy’s,” Emma added distractedly.

“How do you know Mrs. Jones?” Henry asked.

“Killian’s brother Liam is Elsa’s husband,” Emma explained. “Henry, please go turn the burner off under the hot cocoa so it won’t burn.”

“If it’s ready, can I pour some…”

“Absolutely not. Do not touch the pan or anything else; just the knob for the burner.”

“But I…”

She put her arm around his shoulders. “After you turn off the stove, why don’t you go ahead and put your pajamas on. Just give me a couple of minutes to speak to Mr. Jones, okay?”

“You did a fine job on your drum solo tonight, lad,” Killian said.

Henry’s face brightened. “Do ya really think so?”

“Aye. You were the star of the show.”

A wide grin split the boy’s face. “Thanks! I practiced a lot!”

“Your mother told me you did. Practice makes perfect, they say.”

“I guess so. We can be in band next year and I want to play percussion.”

Killian snuck a glance at Emma, who closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. With difficulty, he kept from laughing, before answering, “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”

“At least one of us will,” Emma mumbled, before reminding Henry about turning off the stove.

“Bye, Mr. Jones. Merry Christmas!” Henry shouted on his way out of the room.

“Merry Christmas to you, lad.”

“So, um, not to sound rude, but why are you here?” Emma asked as soon as they were alone.

He tried not to fidget as he thought of what to say. “I…I really enjoyed talking to you this evening.”

“I enjoyed talking to you, too.”

Encouraged, the corner of his mouth quirked up. “That’s good to hear. So, I was wondering if…if you would consider going out with me.”

“On a date?” she asked, brows shooting up.

“Aye, that’s the idea.”

“I can’t…”

Killian felt his stomach drop.

“...even remember the last time I went on a date.”

“Perhaps we should remedy that,” he suggested hopefully.

Emma pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on it in contemplation. “I don’t know…”

“Go out with him, Mom!” Henry yelled from the kitchen.

“Really, kid?” Emma said, clearly exasperated.

Henry poked his head around the door frame. “I like him.”

“Weren’t you told to put your pajamas on?”

“I will. I just accidentally heard what Mr. Jones said.”

Emma crossed her arms and gave him a patented ‘mom look’. “Accidentally, huh?”

He shrugged. “I have good hearing.”

“Only when you want to have it,” she stated. “Now, go do as you were told.”

“Okay,” he sighed, trudging down the hallway to his room.

She turned back to Killian, dropping her arms to her sides. “Looks like you have my kid’s approval.”

He studied her for a few seconds. “What about you, Emma? Do I have your approval, too? Elsa said she would be happy to watch Henry for you if we go out.”

She hesitated, then lifted her chin decisively. “Yes, Killian. I would love to go out with you.”

*********

One year later…

Killian followed Emma down the aisle of the auditorium and grinned when he realized what seats she chose. After sitting down, he draped his arm around her shoulders and leaned over to murmur in her ear, “These seats seem familiar, Love.”

She snuggled against his side. “They’re very special, because this is where I met the love of my life.”

“What a coincidence,” he teased. “This is where I met mine, too.”

Elsa and Liam slid into the seats in front of them. “Hello, lovebirds,” Elsa grinned.

“Don’t encourage them,” Liam cautioned. “I already have to witness far too much PDA from those two.”

“You don’t have to watch, you know,” Killian said, lightly whacking the back of Liam’s head.

“Both of you behave,” Elsa said, as Emma giggled.

“Speaking of behaving,” Killian began, “do you think your daughters will make it through the concert without assaulting each other this year?”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Liam said. “I caught Missy trying to hit her sister over the head with her flute the other day.”

“Be happy it wasn’t the other way around,” Emma commented. “Alice could do some serious damage with her saxophone.”

They were still laughing when the fifth grade band shuffled onto the stage in all their Christmas finery, instruments held proudly in front of them. Emma and Killian immediately spotted Henry taking his place behind the snare drum. He smiled and gave them a quick wave before picking up his drumsticks.

“He looks so grown up,” Emma said quietly.

“Your little drummer boy isn’t very little anymore,” Killian observed fondly. He and Henry had a very close relationship and he loved the boy as his own.

“A lot has changed in the past year,” she sighed happily.

“Aye, Love. It’s been phenomenal in every way.”

Mary Margaret, who also instructed the fifth grade band along with teaching elementary music, walked out onto the stage, preparing to introduce their first song.

Emma settled against Killian’s side to enjoy the concert. A year ago, sitting in these very seats, neither of them could ever have imagined what that first meeting would mean to them.

As the band began playing Jingle Bells, Killian pulled Emma a little closer. His chest swelled with pride watching Henry concentrating on his music, as he beat out the rhythm on the drum. This year, Emma hadn’t had to endure his incessant practicing alone, since Killian moved in with them just before Thanksgiving.

Emma saw Killian glancing at his watch once the third and final song ended. “Are you anxious to leave? You know we still have to sit through the sixth grade and junior high bands, don’t you?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m aware. I was just trying to gauge what time it will be over.”

“I’d say the concert will last about an hour,” Liam threw over his shoulder.

Killian slumped a bit in his chair. Then he caught sight of Henry, who was sitting in a reserved section to their right with the rest of the fifth grade band. The boy beamed at him and gave him a thumbs up. Killian winked and returned his smile.

Last year, the evening of Henry’s concert ended with Killian asking Emma out on their first date. This year, he had a different question to ask when they got home, one for which Henry had already given his approval.

He hoped her answer would be the same as last year. If so, they would be sitting in these seats next year as husband and wife.

Kissing her temple, Killian impatiently waited for the sixth grade band to begin playing. He intertwined their fingers, imagining how her hand would look with the diamond engagement ring on it. When she turned her face up to look at him, love shining in her eyes, he knew the beauty of the diamond would pale in comparison to the lady wearing it.

*********

Liam’s estimate for the length of the concert was right on the nose. When they finally walked out of the auditorium, light snow was falling. The conversation in the car on the way home was warm and playful. Henry laughed about the sixth grade percussionist who dropped one of the cymbals in the middle of a song, and expressed his hope that when he got older, he would be the one to make the whip sound for Sleigh Ride.

“Lord, help us through seven more years of band,” Emma murmured under her breath, causing Killian to laugh, despite the nerves that were knotting his stomach.

As soon as they got home, Henry went into the kitchen to get the ingredients out for hot cocoa, dubbing it a tradition after the Christmas concert.

“Is it a tradition if this is only the second time we did it?” Emma asked.

“I don’t know,” Killian answered, “but I do know of another tradition that’s been around much longer.” He pointed at the top of the doorway between the living room and kitchen.

“When did you put mistletoe up there?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“This evening while you were getting dressed for the concert.”

“You’re very sneaky,” she said, leaning in until her lips were just a fraction of an inch away from his.

“And you love me for it,” he grinned.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed before kissing him.

“Pre-teen boy coming through,” Henry announced, squeezing past them. “I’m going to put my pajamas on. Please be done making out by the time I get back.”

Emma and Killian laughed into their kiss. “I think we’re scarring him for life,” he quipped.

“That’s what parents are for,” she replied.

Killian pulled back to look at her. “You consider me to be his parent?”

“You’re more of a father to him than Neal has ever been.”

He surged forward to kiss her again. When it finally ended, he asked, “Do you think Henry regards me that way, too?”

“I’m sure he does.”

“Does what?” Henry asked, re-entering the room, now dressed in plaid Christmas pajamas.

“Do you think of Killian as one of your parents?” Emma asked.

“Well, duh,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Can we make hot chocolate now?”

Emma tried to give Killian a look that said I told you so, but he was gazing at Henry with a sense of wonder over the boy’s declaration.

Once the cocoa was gone and Henry was off to bed, Killian and Emma lay together on the sofa. The living room was lit only by the gas fireplace and the lights from the Christmas tree, while Christmas music played softly.

“This is nice,” she sighed.

He hummed in agreement, stroking his hand up and down her back. His thoughts were preoccupied with the perfect way to propose, so he almost missed what she said next.

“Marry me, Killian.”

His hand on her back stilled as his mind registered what she just said. “Wh-what?”

She pushed up on her elbows to look into his face. “Marry me.”

“Swan, you’re depriving me of a dashing proposal!” he protested.

She cocked her head, studying him. “Are you serious?”

He slid out from under her to kneel on the floor in front of the couch, reaching into the pocket of his sleep pants to retrieve the ring and holding it up for her to see.

Her eyes widened as she swung her feet down to the floor. “Oh. My. God. You really were going to propose, weren’t you?”

“Aye.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad? Since you asked me first, I’m pretty sure I know what your answer is going to be,” he chuckled.

“You still have to ask. That’s the rule.”

“Whose rule?”

“Mine. Now, let’s hear that dashing proposal.”

He grinned, then cleared his throat. “Emma, you and Henry have changed my life in every way possible. I never knew happiness like this even existed, let alone that it would happen to me. There aren’t enough words in this world to express how much I love you, but right now, there’s only one word I need to hear in response to this question - Emma Swan, will you marry me?”

Tears filled her eyes when she opened her mouth to answer, but emotion clogged her throat, so she nodded emphatically and threw her arms around him. As he held her tight, kissing her and murmuring words of love, she finally found her voice. “Yes, Killian, I will marry you! I love you so much!”

She pulled away, wiping at her eyes. “Henry and I are very lucky to have you in our lives. I know I’m speaking for him too when I say we want you to be part of our family forever.” Framing his face with her hands, she leaned in to kiss him again.

“Do you want the ring?” he asked against her lips.

She giggled and sat back, extending her left hand to him. He slid the ring into place and kissed her knuckle above it.

“It’s perfect,” she breathed.

“You are perfect, my love.”

“Says the man who complains when I leave wet towels on the floor,” she teased.

“Well…nearly perfect,” he grinned.

She held her hand up to admire the ring, the lights of the Christmas tree making the diamond glitter. “We’re engaged,” she said, awestruck.

“Mmhmm. Who would have thought that a little drummer boy and two feuding reindeer would bring us together and give us a happy ending?”

Her eyes met his, laughter and love dancing in them. “Best night of my life, hands down. Until today,” she amended.

Kissing the tip of her nose, he whispered, “Happy Christmas, wife-to-be.”

“Merry Christmas, husband-to-be.”

He stood up and took her hand to help her to her feet. Then they went to their bedroom to share the best gift of all - the love they had for each other.

*********

My heartfelt wishes for all of you to have a blessed and memorable Christmas!

Tagging:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4

@hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper

@lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic

@eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling

@andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @zaharadessert @lyssapup27

@undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat

@teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90

@apiratewhopines @hollyethecurious @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate

@caught-in-the-filter @stahlop @veryverynotgoodwrites @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite

@whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie

@beckettj @killihan-jones @cssecretsanta2020

[cosette141]

Operation: Poptarts | OUAT fanfic

Fandom: Once Upon A Time Author: cosette141 Words: 1k Summary: Henry was mostly happy that Killian had moved in with him and Emma. His only reservation was that Killian won't stop throwing out his poptarts. S6 Captain Cobra

AO3

(under the cut!)

a/n: slight tag to "Dark Waters"/S6, when Killian threw out Henry's poptarts.

Henry was mostly happy that Killian had moved in with him and Emma.

It was nice most of the time, having Killian around. For one, Killian was a surprisingly good cook, and surprisingly organized, whereas even Henry was more organized than Emma. The house had never been cleaner since Killian had joined them.

The three of them had dinner together every time Henry wasn't with Regina, and they also had weekend movie nights per Henry's request, since Killian had much to catch up on in that regard. Killian's commentary over the movies and TV shows was usually more amusing than the actual films.

Not to mention the fact that having Killian around had also started to feel less like having his mother's boyfriend living with them, and more like a… father figure. No one would replace Henry's true father, but if anyone could, Henry could easily say that Killian was it.

Not that he was ready to admit that to the pirate just yet, but it was true all the same.

So, all in all, Henry was mostly happy that Killian had moved in with them.

There was, however, one thing that always put that mostly before happy.

And that had to do with his poptarts.

Or, more specifically, his lack of poptarts.

It all started the day that Killian had watched him during the time the Evil Queen was wreaking havoc over the town, and Killian had thrown out two perfectly good poptarts of Henry's.

If that was the only instance of this particular issue, Henry would have been fine with it.

Except, it wasn't.

The next morning, Henry had gone looking for the box of poptarts in the cupboard, knowing he'd had two packs left in it, but the whole box was gone.

When Henry inquired about it, Killian had informed him that the rubbish was gone, that it wasn't 'real food' and he couldn't knowingly let Henry go around eating it, and he'd made the three of them a fish breakfast.

Emma had given Henry an apologetic smile that she'd smoothly shifted to a fake-happy one to Killian when he'd looked in her direction, and Henry had swallowed his disappointment and eaten with them.

Instead of trying again, Henry decided to get a new box of poptarts, and hide them.

Which worked, for all of one day.

Because the next day when he had gone to his hiding spot, under his bed, he instead found a note reading: Can't hide anything from a pirate, mate.

Henry, however, did try.

At first, Henry was more than irritated about it, but it quickly became a challenge to find a place to successfully hide the sugary snacks away from the pirate. But no matter where he hid them, he would encounter a note in the place of each one, some of them congratulating him on getting better at hiding things.

It had shifted from an annoyance to almost like a game between the two of them as the weeks went by, something they'd never voice aloud, and something Emma stayed completely out of, though Henry often saw her rolling her eyes at them.

However, after nearly two months of the back and forth, Henry had finally found a hiding place that Killian didn't; a barely-noticeable loose floorboard in the attic, under two heavy boxes and cloaked in shadows.

For three days, Henry was able to enjoy poptarts without them disappearing.

And as exciting as it should have been, it was now a disappointment not to find a note in their place.

Henry pulled the box out from the floorboard, and stared at it for a moment, rather than taking one out to eat. He suddenly considered hiding it somewhere else that Killian would find it.

"This was a good place, but I'll remind you that you can't hide anything from a pirate, mate."

Henry jumped a mile in his skin, jerking to his feet and spinning around, knocking one of the storage boxes to the ground.

Because Killian was leaning against the doorway, watching him with an amused grin.

"You knew?!" exclaimed Henry, still breathless, his heart beating fast from the startle.

"Aye," said Killian with a chuckle. "A good pirate finds treasure by knowing well the person who has hidden it. And you, my boy, I know quite well."

Something about how Killian said that reminded Henry of how he'd once felt when Neal called Henry his son, his boy. Hearing it from Killian made Henry smile.

Killian lifted himself from the wall, saying, "However, this one did take me the longest to find." He took a few steps toward Henry, raising a brow at the box of poptarts. "You really find these worthy of such effort?"

Henry rolled his eyes. "Have you ever even tried one?"

Killian's raised brow turned to Henry, and there in his eyes was the obvious answer that no, he has not.

With a grin of his own, Henry pulled out a pack, and opened it. He gave Killian one, and took a bite out of one for himself. "Try it," said Henry.

Killian stared at it like it was a deal from Mr. Gold, but when Henry prompted it again, Killian looked at him. But then, something relented in the older man's eyes, as if he was just doing it for Henry, and he took it. Tentatively and quite reluctantly, Henry watched Killian take a small bite.

Henry stared at him expectantly. "Well?"

-././.

The next day, Henry looked up from where he was at the kitchen table, doing his homework, when Emma called his name. She was standing in front of the open cupboard, brows raised high.

"Yeah, Mom?" asked Henry distractedly.

Emma pulled out a box of poptarts. "Um," said Emma, brows still raised. "Really, kid? I don't think hiding it in plain sight will work." She gestured it to him like they were contraband. "Here, hide your poptarts somewhere better."

Henry looked up again, rolling his eyes. "Those aren't mine."

Emma's brows raised again, this time in puzzlement. "What?"

"They're Killian's," said Henry, amusement at his lips. At Emma's shock, he said, "I made him try one. Joke's on me, though, cause then he took the box from me and told me to 'stay the bloody hell away from them cause they're his now'."

Through her shock, Emma laughed. "You're kidding."

"I wish I was." said Henry through his grin.

Emma shook her head to herself, as if she knew she was surrounded by two idiots, and she moved to put them back in the cupboard.

But Henry suddenly had an idea.

"Wait," said Henry, getting up. Emma paused, and Henry held his hand out for the poptarts with a grin that he must have picked up from Killian. Emma seemed to notice the mischief in that look, and she smiled too, handing him the box.

It was time to get a little payback.

Still smiling, Henry ran off to find a hiding place that was even better than the attic before Killian came home.

-.-././.

Emma was in the kitchen when Killian came home that night, after he'd been out with Smee and a few of his crew for the day.

She and Killian greeted each other with a kiss and a brief chat about their days. But afterward, Emma saw Killian go to the cupboard where she'd found the box of poptarts. He opened it, about to reach inside when he paused, realizing it was gone.

He hesitated in confusion for a moment.

But then, a knowing look crossed his face.

And she watched him smile.

tag list: @kmomof4 @justanother-unluckysoul @klynn-stormz @stahlop @ilovemesomekillianjones @hookmecaptain @tiganasummertree @jadehowlettthewolf @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @pirateprincessofpizza @stahlop @snowbellewells @eddisfargo @motherkatereloyshipper 

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

~*~

1. itmf a fic where lan zhan interacts with wei ying’s mom. ty!!

Cartwheels In Cloud Recesses Series by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 23k, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, CSSR and WCZ Live, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans)

💖 Magical Marriage Ribbons Series by starandrea (Varies, 1m, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Accidental Marriage, Fluff, Happy Ending, Telepathic bond, Kink Negotiation, Family Drama, Magical Pregnancy, Dual Cultivation, Shapeshifters, Modern with Magic, Immortality, Yilling Wei Sect) the later part of the Magical Marriage Ribbon series

the world will follow after by dottie_dramas (dottie_wan_kenobi) (E, 8k, wangxian, CSSR/WCZ, modern, humor, smut, love at first sight, CSSR & WCZX live, meet the family, genderqueer WWX, shotgun wedding, fast burn, fluff) and the second part of the world will follow after series

in case of fire, break glass by Jenrose (T, 65k, WangXian, Time Travel, Established Relationship, Hurt/comfort, Everyone loves/nobody dies)

Wújī by FairyTaleDreams (M, 50k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, WCZ & CS Lives, Rouge cultivator WWX)

From the Warm Sun by sunshine_sparrow (T, 58k, WangXian, CSSR & WWX, CSSR & LQR, Discussion of Rape, Period-Typical Sexism, Mostly CQL but probably some MDZS too, CSSR Lives, Madam Lán Lives, Qingheng-jun lives, But WCZ Still Dies, Fix-It, Happy Ending, All Soft and Very Little Angst, the wens live, Yīn Iron, Good Person MY, Good Person LQR)

mother of mothers by SpeedingCheetah (T, 11k, wangxian, CSSR & WWX, canon divergence, fairytale elements, implied/referenced self-harm, implied/referenced character death, BSSR is WWX’s grandparent, LWJ pov, LWJ centric, WWX centric, trans WWX, curses, curse breaking, LWJ’s grief & unresolved feelings about his mother, triggers in notes)

~*~

2. Hi, I have no idea if this even exists but do you know of any fics involving a time loop/groundhog day kinda situation?

Wearing Down Every Bone by CSHfic, VSfic (E, 30k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Time Loop, Temporary Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Case Fic, Curses, Pining, Getting Together, Time Travel, Night Hunts, Hurt wwx, Mystery, Angst with a Happy Ending, Use Your Words, Mutual Pining, Depression and Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, gratuitous use of empathy)

the cycle of regret by KouriArashi (T, 14k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Fix-It, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Canon)

see you yesterday by glyphic (M, 138k, WIP, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Ghost Hunters, Time Loop, Case Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn) it's incomplete, but glyphic's 'see you yesterday' is an AMAZING russian doll/time loop AU

A Necessary Evil by GravityWinsAgain (M, 8k, Wangxian, Major Character Death, time travel, hurt/comfort but mostly hurt, I’m not going to lie this is all angst, not a happy ending) we only see one iteration of the loop, but it's definitely a loop

~*~

3. Hi, I'm looking for fics that give Wei Wuxian a good childhood, time travel fix it or just retelling, either with the Jiangs or adopted by another major sect

Do you know any you can recommend? @forestandstardust

Hope Series by RoseThorne (G/T, WangXian, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Memory Loss, Angst, Sharing a Bed, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Sexual Tension, Arranged Marriage, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Butterfly Effect, Kid Fic, Epistolary, Cultivation Sect Politics)

~*~

4. for itmf, could i ask for ppl's time travel recs, specifically where:

A) other characters travel than wangxian (even OC if there's a fic like that)

B) its "a glimpse of future happiness" type of deal rather than erasing the timeline (basically time travel to the future or characters temporarily going to the past) - i would love if it leads to actual written payoff in the new timeline <3

thank you! @danmeiireader

4A)

Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing)

Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, ChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It)

i told you when i came i was a stranger  by Caramelized (M, 70k, LXC / OFC, minor wangxian, canon divergence,   Isekai, transmigration, fix-it, Butterfly effect, sunshot campaign, not everyone dies au, no golden core transfer, dimension travel,   self-insert, angst w happy ending)

With Surgical Precision by metisket (T, 20k, WQ & WN, WQ & WWX, WangXian, Time Travel, Families of Choice, sibling bonding through murder, Z chirurgiczną precyzją (podfik) by tehanu, [PODFIC] With Surgical Precision by Gwogobo, With Surgical Precision [PODFIC] by Opalsong)  

4B)

A Wedding For The Ages by pupeez4eva (Not rated, 6k, wangxian, time travel, humor, everyone lives au)

~*~

5. hii for the next itmf do you know any fics where wwx disappears for some time and then comes back kinda changed and everyone is shocked? pls wangxian and preferably modern au

~*~

6. Hi!! Do you guys know any fics that are alternative takes to the scene in the untamed where WWX drinks the wine for LWJ?? or anything that expands on that scene, really?? Many thanks!!

At the bottom of the bottle, you're the poison in the wine by KatAnni (T, 11k, WangXian, Fainting, Angst, Poisoning, Golden Core Reveal, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, POV Multiple, Attempted Murder, hinted Chengqing, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence)

every breath that comes before by tardigradeschool (T, 10k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Poison, Golden Core Reveal, Sharing a Bed, Hair Brushing, very very background 3zun, Angst with a Happy Ending, PTSD)

Blackouts by GravityWinsAgain (M, 11k, wangxian, modern, date rape drugs/roofies, but nothing bad happens, JZxun & SS & WC being assholes, hurt/comfort, Mojo’s post) starts with a modern au of that scene

~*~

7. do u know of any fanfictions where the avatar movie crossed with mdzs? The one with the na'vi in it. @chrystalstitch

~*~

8. Are there any protective wen Ning fics? Wn protective for wwx

~*~

9. Itmf a)scholar wwx fics

b) lxc bashing

9A)

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 644k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement)

Truths Laid Bare For All by Preludian_Staves (T, 42k, wangxian, arranged marriage, not Jiang friendly, truth serum, love confessions, golden core reveal, implied referenced abuse, getting to know each other, genius WWX, falling in love, courting, WIP (hiatus))

In Walls of Glass by Comfect (T, 43k, LQR & WWX, WangXian, XiCheng, Good Uncle LQR, Teacher LQR, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Butterfly Effect, JC friendly, Family Feels, Cultivation Theory, POV LQR, Seriously the only WWX Bashing is in the first chapter or so and is canonical in LQR's head, Initial WWX Bashing, Eventual WWX Appreciation, JC appreciation)

🧡 One Can Keep A Secret (If He Does Not Know It's There) by H_Belle (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern Cultivators, Inventor WWX, Secret Identity, Identity Reveal, YLLZ WWX, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Pining LWJ, POV WWX, Background Wangxian Getting Together, Jiangs are only mentioned in the passing, inspired by a tumblr post)

To Respect a Scholar by FlautistsandPeonies (G, 5k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, WWX's canon genius, not JC friendly, author WWX)

Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing) (link in #4A)

the roots in my heart (also grow in yours) by halfdemonvash (M, 16k, WangXian, Modern AU, Plants, Botanist WWX, Botanist LWJ, the burial mounds are a greenhouse, Fluff, Mild Smut, WWX POV, Getting Together, Falling In Love, Sexual Content)

🧡 i really want to know (who are you) by Stratisphyre (M, 19k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Golden Core Reveal, Single Dad WWX, Reasonable Authority Figure LQR, Allusions to violence and murder, Hospitalization)

~*~

10. Hello! Thank you so much for all you do - your posts bring me joy. 🥰 For the next ITMF post, any fics where WWX or LWJ (or both) are circus performers? Thank you! @youhideastar

Flying High and Falling Hard by UseMyMuse (E, wangxian, circus au, silk aerialist WWX, ring master LWJ)

🧡 Faire thee well by Scrippio (T, 77k, WangXian, ChengQing, XuanLi, 3Zun, Modern AU, Renaissance Faire, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Slow Burn) They don't work at the circus, but they do work at the renaissance faire, and I think there's some overlap

~*~

11. Hello! I dont know if I should label this as fic finder or ITMF or maybe both.

its a fic where lwj and lxc compete for wwx's heart. i know that ive read one like this but i cant find it anymore [its a series where wwx died right, then when he came back, lxc said to lwj that if wwx chose him before, lxc will stand beside him (talking about the siege)] but i also want to read some fics like this. Added also to FF ~Mod L

~*~

12. Hello, I want to request some fics for the next ITMF. Is there fics where everyone (the jiangs or whoever his family/friends is) is being overprotective over a naive, oblivious and spoiled wei ying that they regarded lan zhan as a thief who wants to steal away and defile wy? Thanks you in advance ppl ♡

~*~

13. Hey! Thanks for all you do! I was wondering if you know of any really good CSSR-centric fics for the next ITMF post. Thank you in advance!

~*~

14. Hi! For the intmf, do you have any recs for where wangxian gets together early like during the Cloud Recesses Arc? Preferably WWX's POV, and the relationship is mostly kept as a secret. But I don't mind them being shameless abt it either lol.

~*~

15. ITMF where Lan Wangji is cradling his husband Wei Wuxian's unconscious body @yupkook​

Talismans by brooklinegirl (E, 10k, wangxian)

~*~

16. ITMF the lans found out about the whip marks at the back of wwx. It can be jiang bashing, good lans, anything like lans rescued wwx / give him sanctuary or any.

💙 Holding shreds by barisan (T, 5k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, No Sunshot Campaign, Body Swap, Not for sexy shenanigans, Chronic Pain, Hurt WWX, Hurt LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abusive YZY, Bad Parent YZY, Bad Parent JFM, Good Uncle LQR, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, POV  WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jiāng Family Bashing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Getting Together, Smart WWX)

Warming up (to him) by barisan (T, 9k, LQR & WWX, WangXian, Hypothermia, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Temporary Character Death, Medical Inaccuracies, YZY Abuses WWX, JFM Bashing, pre-wangxian, Good Uncle LQR, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort) this one and "Holding shreds" from the same author, but they are both locked

What If..... Jiang Cheng Understood? by ToxicAngel13 (M, 45k, WIP, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, WangXian Get Married in the Cold Springs Cave, Protective JC, Confused WWX, Angry LWJ, Fix-It of Sorts, Good Uncle LQR, Implied/Referenced Child Abus, ePOV LQR, YZY Bashing, POV JFM, Not JFM Friendly, Hurt/Comfort,Protective NHS) Just caught up on this last night, so good timing!

~*~

17. are there any wangxian fics where post canon (any time period is fine really) where they find out wwx and lwj are actually blood related? @sentientcongee

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what  you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack,  whatever - it’s all good!***

[thelargefrye]

quarantine.

anonymous request.

warnings. quick mention of the pandemic

"hyung! y/n! hurry up!” san shouted, as he fixed the camera and adjusted it before he sat down in his chair. he hears two familiar sets of footsteps as he double checks to make sure the camera is recording.

seonghwa enters with you following right after him and you both sit down on either side of san. said male gives you both a smile before looking to camera with a large smile.

“hey guys! welcome back to another video during this... very crazy time. i’m currently at home, quarantining with my two loves and byeol, wherever she may be. if you’ve been hear for a while then you know who these two are,” san says before taking both yours and seonghwa’s hands with his own, “but! if you don’t then this is y/n,” he raises your hand and you smile at the camera, “and this is seonghwa,” san repeats the action of rising seonghwa’s hand who also smiles at the camera. 

“do you guys know what we’re doing today?” san asks looking between the both of you. 

you shake your head, “no, you wouldn’t tell us.”

“we are doing a try not to sing challenge!” san says with a smile and both you and seonghwa cringe at the thought of not being able to sing or dance. you both listen as san explains the rules. 

“what kind of songs?” you ask. 

“kpop,” he answers and you let out a yell with a fake angry expression. 

“i’m gonna lose. i already know it,” you say making both boys laugh. “especially if its girls’ generation. they own my heart.”

both san and seonghwa give a ‘what about us?’ look but you ignore them. 

“why are doing this challenge?” seonghwa decides to ask.

“because since we can’t leave the house, i figured why not bring back old challenges and this is gonna be the first one!”

“you mean your making a series out of this?” you ask and san nods.

“the quarantine challenges!” he answers and you and seonghwa clap at the name and san smiles proudly.

san then starts the video he had found and right at the start you knew you were going to lose. 

“san, why did you pick such a hard challenge?” you whine out as you tried your best to not sing along with ‘i am the best’ as it was the first song. 

“it wouldn’t be fun if the challenge was easy,” he says right as ‘growl’ comes on and you see him and seonghwa struggle to not dance to it knowing both males likes this song. 

you all were doing good, struggling, but good. that was until ‘ring ding dong’ came and you couldn’t stop yourself from dancing to the song. you immediately stood up and started singing and dancing along with shinee. san allowed you to dance to the song before he paused it.

“i regret nothing,” you say making both males laugh at. “since i already lost does this mean i dance and sing now?”

“i guess so, just do it quietly,” san answers.

“no.”

san rolled his eyes before resuming the video. you continued singing and dancing in your seat, having the time of your life as you did. you gasped when ��step’ by kara came on. this was the first song you three learned together, so the boys could only watch in pain as you danced. 

“ah! this is so hard!” seonghwa says after the song finished and you went back to just dancing in your seat. 

it was around the twenty minute mark when orange caramel came on and you immediately stood up dancing. seonghwa couldn’t take it anymore and stood up before joining you the dance. 

“ah! hyung, we only had four minutes left!” san said as he paused the video.

“i know, i couldn’t help it. that’s mine and y/n’s favorite song to sing together, so i couldn’t ignore it,” seonghwa said making you let out a soft aw at him.

“well, it looks like i win. to be honest, i thought you were going to win, hyung, but i guess not,” san says and you all laugh. “well i guess that’s it for this video for my new series ‘quarantine challenges’ make sure to like, comment, and subscribe and tell whether you won or lost the challenge. link to video will be in the description below! bye, guys!” san says waving to the camera. you and seonghwa also wave to the camera as san reaches over and turns it off. 

[rueitae]

Relationships: Player & Team

Words: 10,100

Tags: mission fic, aged up characters (8 years post canon), team as family, canon continuation, part two of geography teacher Player universe

Summary: With his first year of teaching under his belt, Player is looking forward to a little more free time during the summer - and that free time will be spent helping his team make sure VILE remains behind bars. They have plans already to intercept a caper, but that's not until tomorrow.

For now its an evening of relaxing after a long day at work.

Until his phones start ringing off the hook.

Player is reminded that his team - the whole team - needs him in more ways than one.

[ilovemesomekillianjones]

CS Pillow Talk 4 - The Guest

A/N: I wrote something. Perhaps the muse isn’t dead? She came back tonight to push this story out. Unbeta’d, because I started writing it a couple hours ago and now it’s finished and I want to post it. Other chapters need not be read to understand this chapter, as this is a series of unrelated one shots where Emma and Killian are, you guessed it, talking in bed. 

Summary: Who is the guest in Killian’s dream? If Emma can guess, Killian will confess. 

       ao3          ffnet          Rated M            1.7K          Fluff, Humor, Smut      

The deep moan rumbling from Killian’s sleeping form has Emma pausing as she throws her hair into a ponytail. She’s up before him for a change, and has taken it upon herself to make him breakfast in bed. Walking toward their bed, she watches as her husband’s sleeping form stretches and another groan passes his now smirking lips on an exhale. She chuckles as she realizes the cocky grin she has fallen in love with even happens when he sleeps. The trace of laughter is quickly replaced though, with a sharp intake of breath when the sheet moves further down his body as he continues to squirm. 

She’s immediately torn between cooking him breakfast or taking care of Killian’s stiff cock that is now peeking from under the sheet. “Goddamn,” she mutters to herself, admiring his morning wood; she’d like nothing more than to wake him by riding him like the stud he is. With all the other characters she has come to find out are real, she errantly wonders if there truly is a faction of Morning Wood Fairies. 

“Emma,” he sighs.

A rush of heat surges through her belly when she hears the desperation in his voice. Sitting down next to his sleeping form, she wars with waking him or just taking him in her hand or mouth. Emma runs her finger lightly from the tip of his straining cock, over his sensitive underside and down to his base before gently caressing his balls. When Killian’s hips surge toward her touch, she wraps her hand around his shaft and begins stroking him slowly. She can feel her own wetness gathering and shifts slightly on the bed to slip her other hand into her panties. She bites down on her lip as she tries to suppress a moan when her fingers glide effortlessly through her wetness then up over her clit. Her eyes close involuntarily as her fingers work in a motion as perfect as only one knows their own body. 

“Bloody Hell, a man could get used to being woke like this,” Killian rasps in a sleep addled timbre. 

Emma jumps slightly and her eyes open, but she doesn’t cease the movement of either hand. “I was going to make you breakfast in bed, but you looked much more appealing than anything I could cook.” 

“Is that so,” Killian growls as he halts Emma’s movements to maneuver them so she is sprawled out on her back and he is hovering over her.

“How did you do that?” Emma giggles, a bit breathlessly from being pounced on. She doesn’t pause for an answer though before craning her neck to kiss him senseless. A lusty moan passes from her lips as Killian kisses her back, and she surrenders herself to the carnal nature in which he always satisfies her. It is quite erotic watching him as he licks, nips, caresses, and fills her, and soon she is coming hard, shamelessly calling out his name and praising his efforts. 

Lying quietly in his arms, after he tells her how bloody amazing she is, Emma can’t help but wonder what it was that had him so turned on before he’d even opened his eyes. “What were you dreaming about this morning?”

Killian chuckles, and Emma knows he is either blushing or scratching behind his ear by the shy tone in his voice. “We were… eh… we were  having a threesome.”

It’s Emma’s turn to giggle, “Naughty. And just who was in this threesome?”

“Us,” he states simply. 

Emma looks up at him, wondering why she is having to spell out her question. “Well, yes, you and me, but who was our guest?” She’s surprised to see a bit of confusion in his features, before the dawning of realization crosses his face.

“Tell you what, love. If you can guess, I will confess.”

Emma squints her eyes at him, debating the choices. She decides to go for the obvious first. “Ruby?”

“The wolf?” Killian asks incredulously.

“Well… she is hot, and she’s always been very flirty with… everyone.”

“Not my type.”

Emma shifts her weight, leaning up on her elbow and facing Killian. She snaps her fingers and blurts out, “Belle!”

“You sound so sure of yourself with that guess. But that is also incorrect.”

“I was thinking maybe it was like a sexy dream and a revenge dream all in one,” she explains. Biting her lip she contemplates who else could be making an appearance in her husband’s dreams. Remembering an off-handed comment he’d made in regards to all the many blondes of this realm, she realizes who it must be. “Is it Tinkerbell?”

“Sweet lass, she is, but still a no.”

“Ashley? Elsa?”

“Also no.”

“Maybe you have a thing for redheads? Elsa’s sister, Anna? Mal? Mulan?” Emma continues on as her husband just smiles and shakes his head in the negative to all her suggestions. “Ursula?” She shudders as she asks about Cruella. But still he shakes his head no. Who else does that leave, she muses. “Aurora? Jasmine! Ooh, another redhead, Ariel!”

“You are so far from the answer love, I do not think you will be able to guess.”

Emma flops to her back and exhales loudly. Suddenly a thought occurs to her, and she thinks, despite the fact that she hasn’t felt an ounce of discomfort or jealousy while lazing with her true love, discussing his sex dream on a quiet Sunday morning, this next guess might actually change all that. “Regina,” she whispers.

“Not a chance!” he responds with thinly veiled offense. 

“Oh, thank goodness,” she mutters. She rolls her eyes at him when he smirks at her. She knows that he knows that would’ve made her a bit green with- “Zelena! It is a redhead.”

“What is it with your assumption that this mystery guest has a better chance of being a redhead?”

“It’d be something different than me and…”

“Ah, yes, Milah. A redhead would be different than you or Milah. But who’s to say I haven’t had my fair share of the fiery redheaded lasses.”

She backhands his bare chest before shouting out, “Merida!”

“Your first hint is, not a redhead.”

“Damn,” Emma mutters, “Who else is there? Okay, I give up. Who is it?”

“That wasn’t the game, Swan. I said you guess, I’ll confess. I rather like this, it feels like a game. A game I am winning.”

“Well that would mean I am losing, and that’s not happening.” She closes her eyes trying to remember any other faces of Storybrooke who could be making an appearance in Killian’s dreams. As soon as the next choice hits her she is laughing out loud, even she has to admit, the two have quite the banter at times. “GRANNY!” 

“What?” This time, Killian doesn’t hide the offense in his voice as he sits up and brings his hand to his heart as if she’s wounded him. “Are you bloody serious? She’s a lovely lady, and maybe in her hay-day, but no, it was not Granny.”

“Okay, okay, no need for theatrics. You know the old broad loves to flirt with you, if you had a little sexy dream about her it’d speak more to your ego being stroked than the plausibility of the matchup.” 

“There will be no stroking of anything between me and Granny! Not even in dreams.”

Emma laughs loudly at his ridiculous declarations. “Calm down, babe.” Racking her brain, an idea so perverse rears its head and she is not sure she even wants to say it, but she wants to win. “It wasn’t…”

Killian looks at her with a raised eyebrow, nodding his head at her to continue. 

“It wasn’t my mom was it?” She watches all the air deflate from his chest. “Indubitably and irrevocably a no, Swan.”

“What the fuck? There aren’t even any more women in Storybr-”

Killian’s grin widens as she pauses. “Have you finally figured it out?”

She sat bolt upright in bed, facing Killian. “It wasn’t a woman! Oh, this is too good!” she teases, eyes wide with glee. “Where should I even start? Was it-”

“Noooooo,” he draws out as he places a finger to her lips to quiet her. “Nope. No, it was not whoever you are about to guess. Stop right there. I don’t even want to hear your idea of this threesome. Not that I have anything against a threesome with two men and a woman, but I do not want to hear what man you think I might be sharing you with in my fantasy.”

She chuckles at Killian’s rambling, noting there is no anger in his voice. “Oh, it’s a fantasy now?”

“It was before you soiled it with all your incorrect guesses.”

“But, I’ve guessed every woman I can think of,” she whined.

“It was you, you daft woman!”

Emma sighs in exasperation, “Yes, we established that. You and me, who was the third part of the threesome?”

“Just you. Me, you, and another you. The same you, but two of you.”

Emma is immediately thrown back into the moment Hook had kissed her aboard the Jolly Roger, right before Killian had stormed in and knocked his other self out. How many times had she fantasized about that threesome? “Oh,” she murmured, slightly embarrassed and only a lot flattered. 

“Oh, indeed,” Killian chuckled, leaning back against the headboard and pulling her close. “There is no other woman I dream about.” 

“I don’t know why that choice didn’t cross my mind, especially given the number of times I’ve fantasized about having two of you.”

Is that so,” Killian asked running his tongue along his lower lip salaciously.

“Aye,” she giggled, “ever since our trip back in time where you knocked yourself out.”

“That version of me wouldn’t have known what to do with a woman like you, he wasn’t worthy.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing you’ve taught him some things over the years.”

“Aye, ‘tis. Now make me breakfast, wench!” 

“In your dreams!”

“Allow me to show you about my dreams,” he growls as he pulls her on top of him. 

“But there’s only one of me.” Emma presses her body to his and plants kisses along his jawline. 

“You are all the woman I will ever want,” Killian utters as she begins to work her magic on him. 

“Good.”

[snowbellewells]

CS Fic Rec Monday: “New Year, New Town” by: @whimsicallyenchantedrose

I have been highlighting some Christmas fics I just recently got caught up on, but I also have to share how much fun I had reading this New Year’s themed one shot by @whimsicallyenchantedrose​. I have always gotten such a kick out of the way Jennifer works many of the supporting side characters of Storybrooke into her fics - and this one is certainly no exception. The humor of it is really priceless, and I got a real kick out of this story from start to finish. Not only is it funny all around though - it allows Emma and Killian the last laugh as they outsmart the others (like a true pirate couple!) I really think you’ll enjoy this slice of life in everyday Storybrooke that canon just didn’t give us enough of!

“New Year, New Town” by: @whimsicallyenchantedrose​

[thisonesatellite]

Fic: The road, taken (one more time, all of it, *here*)

...so maybe i should have added some descriptive tags the first time around.  And posted the actual fic, not just a link. It’s a process.  :)

So here we go again. This time with all of the above.  i haven’t figured out yet how to link chapters inside of blogs, so here’s the whole damn thing. If you want, you can also go to AO3.

 The road, taken

Summary:

In the end it's about the roads you did take.

Emma and Killian in the Enchanted Forest, stumbling along well outside of canon and inside a different take on their fates.

AKA: There are all the other lives Emma and Killian could have led; all the other ways Emma and Killian could possibly have met.

And then there is this one.

(A little violence and a little darkness and a little humor hopefully go a long way.)

CHAPTER 1

 It starts with neither a bang, nor a whimper. As is often the case, the things which end up determining our paths are things we don't notice when first we encounter them. His case is no different. He doesn't notice her at all while the tavern beer flows and the patron's spirits climb towards delirium. She's just a hand which puts a plate of warm food before him and keeps his tankard filled.

  After three long months at sea, Killian and his crew had spent an alcohol-soaked week in the bowels of Misthaven harbor before he picked himself up, told his first mate he would look for news of potential future endeavors, and struck inland; leaving his crew blissed out in the beds of various whore houses. First rule of lucrative piracy: look for information away from the harbor. Men of the sea and their various harbor counterparts only spin tall tales. The real stories are told on dry land.

  Which is how Killian finds himself at the tavern of a small town two days' ride from Misthaven harbor, eating lamb stew, drinking good ale, and listening to the gossip around him. Not noticing the girl who brings his food and refills his beer. And also not noticing how the mood in the tavern changes from raucous to dangerous. At least not soon enough.

When the brawl erupts around him he barely has time to get up and grip the hilt of his sword before the first blow lands on his temple and stuns him where he stands, sword still in its scabbard.

Killian shakes his head. Tries to focus his eyes. All sounds are muted, blows are falling in slow motion, and his own movements are the slowest motion of all. He sees a blade swing towards him and it's like watching fate itself take a swing at him – he cannot parry, cannot duck in time, just stands there frozen, watching as steel meets his left forearm and slices.

 When did he raise his forearm? Why does he use his arm to deflect a blow? His arm? How is his own sword still stuck in its scabbard?

 The pain that follows is so sharp it brings him back into the here and now, but too late – he is already stumbling backwards. His left side collides with the wall. Pain, again, more pain, exploding. Another hand wrapped around another sword hilt swings towards him. Fate is not on his side today. And then a small blond shape in a dress pulls him down to the floor as he watches a blade strike the wall -- just where his head had been a moment before. Two hands drag him behind the bar, and there is a ripping sound cutting through the noise around him, and something is tied around his arm, so tightly it hurts. More. „Stay down“, says a voice in his ear, „follow me.“

 There is nothing to do but crawl towards a back door behind her, and then more pain, and he loses his bearings for a moment. When he comes back to himself he is stumbling along a dark alleyway, right arm across the girl's shoulders, one of her hands wrapped around his, her other arm squeezing around his waist. Straining under his weight. He tries to straighten up and walk under his own power, but it's useless. His legs don't seem to be a part of him. She stops in front of the door to a small hovel, and he hears a key turn. They enter and he barely has time to notice the room – a bed in one corner, what looks like stacks of baskets in another – before she pulls a trap door down from the ceiling and extends the ladder attached to it. „Can you climb?“ says her voice. He sways. „Please,“ there is a note of panic in it now, „please, you have to climb. I can't carry you up.“

There are so many things he wants to reply to that. First and foremost that he has never needed a woman to carry him anywhere, and he is not starting now. But it costs too much effort. And so he climbs, clumsily pulling himself up with his right arm, because his left arm is useless and also seems to be on fire; and she follows, pushing him the last few feet to lie on the floor of what looks like an attic. An attic with a bed. And lots of space.

 „Here,“ says her voice, „up on the bed with you.“ And the hands pull and push and lever him on top of a mattress. The pain explodes again and he has to squeeze his eyes shut and remember to breathe. When he opens his eyes again her face is near his own, a pale spot in the darkness, out of focus, disembodied. Fingers stroke gently across his forehead. „Lie still,“ she says. „I have to go get bandages, and medicine. I'll be back. You'll be alright. Just don't move.“ He grits his teeth and concentrates on the gentle touch to his face. And then everything goes dark.

  What follows is confusion. A period of time without meaning. There is daylight and night. He is on his ship, he is on a bed, he is in the woods, surrounded by creaking trees, he is on a cliff overlooking an endless expanse of water and sky. He is in the tavern, bleeding out, dying. He is listening to unknown noises, to muffled voices. There are those arms again, pulling him upright, there is „drink this, please.“ There is vomit and pain. Sweating and freezing.

 When he finally opens his eyes again as himself, he is lying on a cot in a mostly empty room. There are no walls to speak of, just the slanted angles of a roof. So it is an attic, then. There is a small window at the front end, and long, spare rays of sunshine falling on the foot of his bed. Dusk. Or dawn. He cannot tell which. His mouth is dry. His left arm is bandaged, and the pain is no longer sharp as a razor, but dull, manageable. Next to him lies the body of the blond woman, curled up, her back to his side. Fast asleep.

As he moves, she stirs and turns around. Killian can't help the sharp intake of breath.

 The left side of her face is a mass of old bruises, green and yellow, already fading in places. In sharp contrast is her cut eyebrow and a split upper lip, barely crusted over, the scabs fresh. Her eyes are greener than any meadow he's ever wandered, and she smiles and then winces, her eyebrows drawing together. A small sound of pain escapes her mouth, but she's already sitting up, examining him.

 „How do you feel?“ she says, concern in her eyes. Her hand cups his forehead, feeling for heat. „Thank the stars, you feel cool“, she continues, her brow relaxing. „I think your fever finally broke.“ She smiles again, smaller this time, and does not wince. „You saved my life.“ Killian thinks the words are too small for such a big statement. They should be larger, carry more weight. „It seemed like the thing to do at the time.“ Another small grin. Her eyes are clear, unblinking. „Why?” „Well“, she says and sits up all the way, frowning. She takes a few measured breaths until her expression clears, and he wants to ask her what's wrong, but he needs to know why she saved his life more. „You're not from around here“, she continues. „You were just at the tavern, minding your own business. You smiled when I brought you your food, you said thank you. You didn't pull me into your lap to slap my ass and fondle my breasts as if I owed you entertainment.”

 So many things are warring in Killian’s brain in response. Like the fact that he didn't even notice her. Or the fact that he was definitely not there to mind his own business. Or the fact that the most notorious pirate captain to ever sail the Bone Sea was taken unawares at a bar brawl only to be rescued by a woman.

 „They do that, you know“, she goes on. „The local muscle. Start fights and then rob foreigners blind in the confusion. Sometimes they maim and kill in the process, they're not picky which as long as their pockets get lined. There were quite a few strangers in the bar that night, but it seems like our local brawlers bit off more than they could chew, because the others turned out to be a group of soldiers on leave.“ She smirks. „They were quite capable of fighting back. The fight got out of hand fast, and I've never seen one so vicious, with blades drawn so early. You were caught in the middle and so I tried to help you.“

 That's what you get for keeping your head down and not trying to attract attention, Killian thinks to himself. If only he'd looked up a few times, instead of listening for stories of lucrative transports. It serves him right, everything that has happened. He cannot afford to slip up like that. His crew would have his head.

 She nods at him and gets up, her movements careful and strained, like she's hurting.

„Are you in pain, love?“ At the word 'love' her head whips around and she stares at him, furious, before she blinks and exhales and the left corner of her mouth quirks up. „Just bruises“, she says. „Nothing to worry about.“

 She comes around to his side of the bed and kneels on the floor beside it, carefully taking his left hand in both of hers. „How is your arm?“ Killian watches her hands wrap around his. He can see it happen. He feels – nothing. It's like his hand is not there. He tries to move his fingers. Three do not respond at all. And his thumb and index finger only give a slight twitch. Killian’s mind goes blank, wiped clean of all thought except one: No. Not this. Please, not this, anything but this.

 A shrill ringing starts in his ears and his vision blurs.

 „Don't panic“, her voice cuts in, and he can feel himself breathing too fast now. He looks up and her green eyes are clear and worried. „Try to relax.“ Her left hand pushes down on his chest, over his galloping heart. „Breathe out“, she commands, and he exhales slowly. „Good. Now breathe in.“ He does. „Out again, slowly.“ He complies. She smiles, and then winces. „Damn that lip“, she says. „Now in again.“ This goes on until the ringing in his ears stops, and the grey around his vision clears. „Good“, she repeats. „Now please just stay still and I'll be back soon with food and water and clean bandages.“ He can do nothing but nod. „By the way, I'm Emma“, she says. By the time he croaks back „Killian“, she's already out of sight, halfway down the trap door ladder.

  When Emma makes her way slowly back up the ladder, the weight of the basket she has slung around her shoulders makes her side hurt so badly she has trouble breathing. The ladder looks endless. When her waist comes level with the attic floor it's all she can do to bend sideways until the basket hits the ground, and then shove it across, slipping out of its strap. She stays where she is for a few long moments, holding her side and trying to inhale. In the end she crawls onto the attic floor on her hands and knees, rolls over in an undignified heap and pulls ladder and trap door back into place without standing up.

 There are several more painful exhales before she manages to get up on her knees and look at the man on the bed, watching her.

 His eyes are blue. His brows are furrowed with concern. „Love,“ he says softly, „are your ribs broken?“ Emma shakes her head. „Bruised,“ she answers. „I don't think they're broken.“ His eyebrows pull closer together. „You should not be carrying such heavy things,“ he says, but it's a statement, not an accusation. He sighs. „I'm sorry about that.“ Emma shakes her head again, but only to clear the fuzziness from it. She gets up, gritting her teeth, and pulls the basket over to his bed, sitting down on its edge with a sigh of relief.

 „Can you eat?“ she asks. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and after a moment he laughs, dry and brittle. „Actually, I'm famished“, he says. She grins back at him and starts to wrap her arms around his torso to help him sit up, when he catches her wrist. „Stop,“ he says. „I can do it myself.“ And he levers himself up slowly, until his back leans against the headboard, more or less upright.

 There is bread and cheese and watered down wine and an absolutely disgusting herbal concoction which Emma insists he drink all at once, to stave off infection. As they eat the room gets brighter and warmer, the sun coming up in earnest. When they're done, Emma looks at him and keeps her voice firm when she tells him that she has to change his bandages. She feels a sting of remorse, watching the apprehension on his face – it's clear that he has put all thoughts of the state of his left arm far from his thoughts. There is nothing she can do about it – the dressings have to be changed.

 She tries to be gentle. Some of the blood has crusted into the bandage and she wets it with water, but it still won't peel off. She has to rip it away, and from the way his eyes squeeze shut and his breathing becomes forcefully measured she can tell how much it hurts. „I'm really sorry,“ she whispers, as she pulls out a clay pot of ointment. „Just get it over with���, he grinds out in response, and she tears the last of the dressings from his arm. „Done“, she sighs, and looks at the cut. The skin surrounding it is red, but not hot; there is no inflammation. Emma smooths a generous scoop of ointment across the wound. It's cool against her fingers, she hopes it's just as cool against his skin. She hopes this doesn't hurt. She can't look at him as she works, doesn't want to watch his face twist in pain, and concentrates on being as quickly efficient as possible, wrapping his arm back up in clean bandages.

 When she's done she exhales a long breath and finally looks up. His blue eyes are intent on hers and he nods, and she lets her hand run down his arm. Thumb and index finger of his left hand look relaxed and normal, the other three are curled up, unmoving. His eyes never leave her face, and when she starts to rub her thumb across his knuckles, they become shiny and wet. „How can I be a captain with just one hand?“ he whispers, and it sounds broken and resigned. „I don't think you're the kind of man to let a little thing like that stop you“, she replies, because although she knows nothing about him, she is sure of that. Tears start rolling down his cheeks and he looks defeated and utterly exhausted and she remembers that the herbal concoction she procured isn't just to stave off infection, it's also meant to make you sleep. He's drowsy, with all his defenses down, and chances are he won't remember any of this. Emma watches him slide slowly down the headboard until he is once again flat on his back, and she wipes the tears from his cheeks before she can stop herself.

 „I know you want to sleep now“, she says, „but there are a few things you have to know, so I need you to listen to me closely for a minute.“ He nods. „It's very important“, she says, and he nods again, his eyes coming back into focus. „I have to go downstairs now, and I won't be able to come back up until tomorrow. It is imperative you stay here and be absolutely quiet. Do you understand?“ He nods again. „You will hear voices“, she goes on. „And noises. Especially during the night. Loud noises. Things like screaming and yelling and punching. Do not get up. Do not move, do not make yourself known, not for any reason. Do you understand?“ Emma's eyes are boring into his, her grip on his shoulders pure iron. „Do you understand?“ There is nothing he can do but acquiesce. And realize she is absolutely magnificent when she's this earnest, this serious. „I understand.“ „Do you promise?“ He has never seen greener eyes than hers, he has never had to give a promise this weighted. „I promise.“ Her grip relaxes, her shoulders drop. „Good“, she says. „Thank you. Your life depends on it, you know.“ She is not joking. She means every word. Killian notices his eyes getting heavy, but he sees her holding her side as she gets up, biting her lip as she manouvers the trap door down, extends the ladder and slowly descends. He wants to ask whether she is alright, but he falls asleep before he can form the words.

  Rough voices wake him. The attic is dark now, he must have slept through the day. There is no way to tell what time of night it is; from where he lies he cannot see any stars. It's oddly unsettling, this feeling of timelessness. The sounds coming up from below are muffled. There are more than two male voices – loud, boisterous – and a soft female one between them. Emma. He can make out the tone, but not the words themselves. And it feels like his bladder is bursting. Moving silently he finds the pitcher of water next to his bed. He drinks it all, empties it in just a few moments, and then uses it to relieve himself.

 It goes on for some time, the play of voices below him, and then he hears a door open, and a few of the voices spill out onto the street and become clearer. His window must be cracked open. „...and don't exhaust yourself“, one voice booms, laughing. „Remember we leave in the morning.“ „At dawn“, a second one adds. „Hear me? Dawn.“ „Get out of here you mangy curs“, a third voice replies, and this one is different. Rough and rolling, less than sober, but unmistakably used to giving orders. This man is in charge. „See you at the paddock.“ It's the first voice again, and then he hears footsteps receding and a door being closed. The play of muted voices below him starts up again – a lot from the man, very little from Emma. Killian dozes off.

 The next sounds that rip him from sleep are very different. These are screams. Of pain. But they are no ordinary screams, these are made by a mouth that's been bound. Killian has gagged enough people, hell, he has spent enough time gagged himself to know exactly what a scream sounds like coming from behind fabric. There is creaking and something that sounds like muted slapping, and moans and grunts and those screams. Those screams. He is halfway up off the bed when the memory of Emma's eyes rises. The echo of her iron grip digs into his shoulders, pain lances up his injured arm.

 Do not move. Do not make yourself known. For any reason. Do you promise? I promise.

 He sinks back down, helpless, and clutches the blanket in his good fist, listening to Emma's fate. It takes a long time for the screams to stop. His fist remains clenched the entire time.

   CHAPTER 2

 The front door falls closed with a bang and Emma can’t move. Everything. Hurts.

 She has to get up. She has to go upstairs. She has to look after the injured one there. But everything. Just hurts.

 She crawls into the attic what feels like hours later and finds him awake, watching the trap door. When she gets to the bed he’s already upright, makes a space for her and pulls her down beside him. He must be feeling better. She definitely isn’t. Sitting down nearly takes her breath away. But she bites back the groan threatening to escape and digs into her pockets, pulling out bits and pieces of carelessly wrapped food – some cheese, a hunk of bread, a few carrots. A flask of water. „I’m sorry,” she says. „I couldn’t carry the basket. I hope you’re not too hungry.” „Emma.” His voice is soft. She ignores it as she piles the food into his lap, arranges and unwraps and fusses until his hand once again closes around her wrist. His touch is soft, like the first time, when he sat up himself. „Emma. Stop.” She can’t look at him. „Talk to me,” he goes on. „Tell me what happened last night.” His fingers rub across her skin. „Tell me.”

 She can’t look, she can’t look. She could fall into his soft voice and his worried eyes and his gentle touch, and she can’t, she can’t. Her life is not this. It is endurance and perseverance and pain. It is small acts of defiance, it is the constant fight of keeping a semblance of herself intact, it is not the kindness of strangers. It was so much easier when he was unconscious. She is not prepared for this. „Tell me about yourself first”, she mumbles, still looking down. „I never even got your name.”

 He sighs. „Killian Jones at your service, ma’am. Former Lieutenant in His Majesty’s Navy. Now scourge of the Bone Sea and the harbors around it, boarder of freight ships, ransacker of fortunes, commander of cutthroats, and captain of the Jolly Roger, the finest pirate vessel to ever hoist a skull and crossbones. Currently at the mercy of a kind-hearted bar wench, and very much in her debt.”

Emma looks up. She can’t help it. His expression is playful, his eyebrows cocked, but his eyes are serious. So very serious. He is telling the truth. „So you're a...” Emma can’t finish her sentence. It's too preposterous. „Pirate. Aye.” Killian is grinning now, and it's amazing, the change a grin brings to his face. „In the flesh.” „What are you doing so far from the ocean?” „Prospecting.” He grins again. It makes him look younger. „For shipments to pillage and plunder?” He nods.

 Emma's expression becomes thoughtful. „What about your victims?” Killian knows what she's asking. How could he not? „I fight my own battles now,” he answers, holding her eyes. There is fear and apprehension in her gaze, and he does not like it. „Back in the Navy I fought for many a cause I did not believe in, but I followed my orders. The military metes out its brand of justice indiscriminately. It sees only enemies, and labels them alike; it does not distinguish between the armed and the defenseless. Now that I am free, I fight to keep my freedom, and to make a living. Since becoming a pirate I have never had to take up my sword against an unarmed man. I take neither prisoners nor hostages.” Emma is biting her lip and he is running out of ways to tell her that he kills neither for sport nor at random. That he has never hurt or maimed or tortured an innocent life since he raised the black flag, never needed to. But his life is built out of violence and theft and maybe the absence of malice is not enough. „Love,” he sighs, „it is true, I am the villain of many a story.” He lifts her chin. „But not of this one.” Emma nods, and the relief he feels at that should not be as complete as it is. He is leaving pieces of himself in this chance connection, in the life of this woman which has collided with his own, and he doesn't know why.

 His hand moves up to her face and his fingertips wander along what’s left of her bruises. „I don’t think any of this--” his fingers run lightly across the cut on her eyebrow, the one on her lip—“is the result of that brawl from which you saved me.” His voice is barely above a whisper. „What is this life of yours that does so much damage?” Emma cringes, which causes her to gasp in pain, which causes him to take her hand. „Tell me, Emma.” It’s a long story and she doesn’t want to tell it. She lives it. That’s too much already. But he is looking at her again, this time with so much kindness in his eyes that Emma sighs in defeat.

 „I was married off to pay a gambling debt.” Killian's eyebrows rise almost to his hairline. Emma looks away, because she has to get through this if she's going to tell it at all, and get through it fast. „My father was a gambler”, she continues, „and not a very good one. Actually, he wasn't my father. No one knows who my parents are, I was found in the woods as a baby.” She takes a deep breath. As deep as she can manage without her side exploding. „My father owed money to all the wrong people, and one day a whole brute squad came to collect. He couldn't pay them, so he offered - me. Mersalis, their leader, accepted the offer. Took me away on the spot, married me only a few hours later. He heads a militia, just a gang of roughnecks spoiling for fights. They ‘control’ the borders, intimidate farmers into paying them protection money, break up rackets, that kind of thing. Well, rackets other than his own of course. He's not exactly a nice man.”

 Killian is silent, but his hand tightens around Emma's.

 „He was out east when I brought you here. So I had a few days of peace and quiet.“ She smirks. „Lucky for you.” Another deep breath. „He left again this morning. They had reports of trouble at the northern border. It'll take them at least a week just to get there. When he leaves for longer periods of time, he has a very efficient way of keeping me in line.”

Killian's hand is now squeezing hers. Hard.

„I have come to understand the effectiveness of a good beating.” She's matter-of-fact now. No emotion at all. „They pretty much keep me inside the house. The neighbors used to complain about the noise, but I’ve also come to appreciate the effectiveness of a good gag.” She laughs and the sound is so empty, it’s terrifying. Not even gallows humor remains inside it. „Of course it’s a special treat when I haven’t quite healed from the previous installment. I think he really did break my ribs this time.” The last sentence she says to herself.

 She feels empty. Empty and used and damaged. Dirty, although Mersalis has never touched her sexually. Emma doesn’t think he can. It’s a very small flicker of light in the darkness that is her existence.

 Killian folds his fingers between hers, clears his throat several times before he speaks. „What about your village?” He asks. His voice sounds scratchy. Emma still can’t look up, stares at their intertwined hands without seeing them. „Your friends, your family. Can’t they help?” Emma laughs again, that terrifying, joyless, empty laugh. „These are not my people, Killian.” She answers. „My village, the one where I grew up, is far away from here. These are his people.” She spits the word 'his' as if it were poison. „Still,” she goes on, softer this time, „I have some friends. They do what they can.” She’s quiet for a moment. „Ruby lets me work at the tavern whenever I can manage. She knows I can’t keep to a schedule, but somehow there’s always a shift open for me.” Emma smiles a faraway smile. „Her grandmother is our local healer and she patches me up and gives me supplies and never asks any questions, never wants to be paid. It helps. Gets me out among people. Gives me a chance to make some money of my own.” She laughs again, bitter this time. „At the rate my savings are going, I’ll be able to leave about twenty short years from now.”

 Killian can no longer stand it. He has to see her face. His hand slips from her grip and again he lifts her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. It’s important she sees him, for this next part, because he’s about to do something entirely out of character. Something he has not done in a long time, something he thought he’d never be compelled to do again. Ever. He is going to put the needs of another person above his own.

 „Love,” he says, and his voice sounds foreign to his own ears, „when I leave here, I want you to come with me. Away from all this.” Emma’s face is blank, wiped clean of expression. But her eyes are holding his. It is enough for him, for now. It’s surprisingly easy to go on, to take that first step back into territory so long ago left behind. Into empathy. „You saved my life.” He says into those green, green eyes. „Allow me to return the favor.”

   CHAPTER 3

 „You can't ride, love, not like this.“ Emma's eyes flash in protest. He is learning that she can be stubborn. And he's also learning that he’s going insane, because he likes it. „Granny can bind my ribs,“ she shoots back. „It won't be that bad.“ „Emma.“ Killian can't help but smile. „You can't ride, and I can't hold on. We have to walk.“

  When he had asked her to come with him, she had taken a long time to reply. Longer than he thought possible for something she obviously wanted, to what seemed a given. She had been silent for many, many long minutes, and then looked up and smiled; bright and sunny and sure. The kind of smile for which men have gone to war. They have been planning ever since. Without much progress.

  „Fine.“ She acquiesces. „We'll walk. But it will take a week just to reach Misthaven harbour.“ „Oh love,“ he says. „We are not going to Misthaven harbour.“ Emma's face becomes one big question mark, and he has to smile again. „We're not going there for several reasons,“ he goes on. „Because it's the first place anyone will come looking for you. And because the Jolly will most likely no longer be there.“ Emma's eyebrows crinkle in confusion. „Granted, the last few days have been somewhat of a blur, but by my count I was due back on deck yesterday. It's not a good plan for a pirate ship to stay docked in a capital port for too long, no matter how much you bribe the harbor master. Smee will have taken her out to sea. We’ll have to catch up with her in the Lagoons.“ He takes her hand, squeezes in comfort. „Don't worry. It's not the first time I've been late to return. We plan for these contingencies.“ Emma nods. „Then where are we going?“ „South to the shore, straight through the forest,“ he answers. „And then east until we can liberate a vessel seaworthy enough to make it to the Windshear Islands. I bet there will be at least one poorly-watched dock with a sloop begging to run free.“

 Emma smiles. He is in his element, she realizes, a man of action. Lying still, no matter how necessary, must have weighed on the very core of his being. He needs forward momentum like sails need the wind.

 „Which brings me to my next question.“ He interrupts her train of thought. „One I've been meaning to ask. I seem to have been stuck in a shift and longjohns for a while now. Where are my clothes?“ „I had to wash them.“ Emma blushes. „You... they were dirty.“ She cannot bring herself to tell him that his clothes had been soiled with both refuse and vomit when she peeled them off during his first bout of fever. She doesn't want to think at all about the past few days, because she feels lighter than she has in years, and she wants to hold on to that feeling a little bit longer. The darkness will come back soon enough. She doesn't have to invite it in.

 „They didn’t look like pirate garb,” she goes on. „Your clothes. They were… ” „Normal?” Emma nods. „Expected black leather and steel buckles, did you?” Another blush creeps up her cheeks. „Love, there are times when you absolutely want to advertise the fact that you are a pirate,” he says. „For instance, when your ship has pulled alongside a frigate weighed down to the keel with expensive cargo, and you’re ready to enter and pluck her clean.” He smiles, waggling his eyebrows until Emma smiles back. „And then there are times when you absolutely do not want to advertise said fact.” „Like when you want to blend in at a mainland tavern and get caught unawares by big men with swords?” Killian hasn’t smiled this much in remembered history. „Aye, love. Exactly like that.”

  When she returns with his clothes she moves as if all her joints are out of alignment; pale as a ghost and breathing hard. She sinks down on his bed and hangs her head. „You might have been right about the riding,“ she bites out. „But even just walking, I'll be so slow. Especially through the woods.“ She must be hurting to admit this out loud, to acknowledge defeat in the face of circumstance. There are tears of pure frustration in her eyes, but she’s holding them back with iron resolve. He is starting to get the feeling that along with her stubbornness, her willpower is nothing to scoff at. „We have time, Emma. We'll be fine.“ „Will we? Or will I be too slow?“ He knows what she's asking. „Emma,“ he says, and takes her hand. „I am not leaving you behind. Do you hear me? I said I would take you with me. I will take you with me, as far as you want to go. And if you leave my company, it will be your decision.“ He won't realize until much later that this is the moment he starts using 'if' instead of 'when'. „It would be easier for you without me,“ she says. „Faster. Less complicated.“ „Oh love,“ he replies, „if I had been looking for a life without complications, I would have stayed in the Navy.“

 She smiles at last, a wan thing that falls quickly. „I need you to promise me something, Killian.“ „And what's that?“ „Don't – when you're done with me, when all this turns out to be more than you bargained for, tell me. Don't just leave, don't– just don't. Tell me. Let me know. I won't stay past my welcome. I won't hold you to an offer you never intended. I'm grateful enough for what you're giving me. Tell me when you are done with me. Promise me.“

 He is speechless. He does notice that she uses ‘when’ instead of ‘if’. In his head are so many things he wants to say, but they can't come up against the ugly truth of the matter: He's a selfish bastard. He didn't start out as one. And by all the stars in the sky, he doesn't want to be one now. But what if this newfound altruism is merely the remnant of gratitude? What if the Pirate Captain rises the moment he hits the deck of the Jolly, what if he's not strong enough to fight the ways of his past? He can't promise her that he won't revert to his old self, can't promise to rip out the roots of his habit of self-preservation. But he can promise her this. He can promise her this. And so he does.

   „Come here.“ He tucks her into his side, wraps a blanket around them as rain pours buckets across their makeshift shelter.

 They had left before dawn and it had taken Emma less than two hours to become convinced that the southern woods were an outpost of hell. They had stumbled through thickets and brush, down what Emma called a ravine, not a slope, and fought their way past a fast-running stream. Killian carrying their supplies and Emma just trying to stay upright. And all of it before it had started to rain.

 The sky is dark and cloudy and the shelter is barely keeping them dry. The thick underbrush helps for a change, after they hacked open a space for themselves; it takes the brunt of the deluge. Emma’s head is pillowed on Killian’s chest and his arm rubs her back. She’s warm, pulled against him, inside her cloak and the blanket, and she listens to his heartbeat, steady beneath her ear.

 „Relax,” he says quietly into her hair. „Try and sleep.” „I don’t know if I can,” she replies. Something has been nagging in the back of her head, and now that they have stopped it’s becoming impossible to ignore. „I keep thinking…” Her voice trails off. „Keep thinking what, love?” „I’m no longer so sure that this was a good idea. For you.” She can feel Killian’s breath across her face. „How do you mean?” „Taking me with you might prove to be costly. You are making a powerful enemy.” „You don’t think I can hold my own against a militia captain?” Emma is profoundly glad Killian does not use the word ‘husband’. She has never said it out loud, never referred to Mersalis by anything other than his given name. „I think we should not underestimate him,” she says with conviction. „He is not simply a brute. He is cunning and vicious and cruel. Ruthless. Relentless. He will come after me. He will not stop until he finds me. Not even if it takes a lifetime. And he will not care who stands in his way.” Killian hears what Emma is not saying: Mersalis will kill him to get to her. With pleasure. With relish. And then punish her within an inch of her life. „He is welcome to try,” he whispers into her hair. „But soon you will be on a pirate ship. You can choose to go anywhere in the realm. Or you can choose to keep moving.” It’s as close has he can bring himself to offer her a permanent place on the Jolly. He pulls her in closer and she tucks her head under his chin. „And don’t worry about me,” he says with confidence. „I am a survivor. I’ve taken on dozens of his ilk. He can bring his worst and I’ll still hang him from the crow’s nest of my ship.” He runs his arm down her side, lets it settle on her hip. „Now sleep, love. The rest will come in time.”

  //////////

 Somewhere in the recesses of a darkened room, a man unearths a locked box from beneath several floorboards. It is made from iron and steel, the surface ornate with strange gilding; there is no key hole. The man pushes parts of the swirled ornamentation in a very particular order, until the lid springs free, and the hinges twist open. Inside is a dagger. With a satisfied smirk the man picks it up and summons its servant.

 „Burning with the desire for revenge are we, dearie?“ He hears the mocking voice before the purple smoke has even cleared. The Dark One stands before him, smiling like a cat in cream. „Aaaaaah,“ the Dark One continues after a long hard look at the man before him. „Your lass flew the coop, didn't she. I told you she would.“ The man's smirk ripples into pure rage. „I had her right where I wanted her,“ he hisses. „Right where I wanted her. She was almost ready. She was almost mine.“ The way he says 'mine' leaves no question as to his intentions. Darkness and venom flow from the word. „I don't think so, dearie“, the Dark One singsongs, pirouetting around the open box on the floor. „I told you when you took her that she was a reed. That she would bend, but never break.“ The man snorts an exhale like a bull about to charge. „Nah-ah-ah!“ The Dark One winks at him. „Don't shoot the messenger. Don't say you weren't warned.“ „I need her back,“ the man grinds out from between clenched teeth. The Dark One grins. „We all need something.“ „Bring her back. Summon your smoke and drop her here. Now.“ He holds up the dagger.

 The Dark One lifts his hand, raising a column of purple smoke. When it clears, the space remains empty. „This is interesting,“ the Dark One looks up in surprise. „She is hidden, your lass. By a powerful spell.“ He looks puzzled for a moment. „One even I can't break. Curious.“ „How is that possible?“ The man erupts like a volcano. „I thought you were omnipotent. I thought the forces of nature itself bowed before you. BRING HER BACK!“ „No can do!“ The Dark One looks terribly amused. „You will have to go get her the old-fashioned way. With a locator spell.” He twists his hand and a phial appears. „Do you have anything of hers? Anything she left behind? Other than you, Mersalis?“

 The man’s head snaps up at the use of his name, at the tone with which it is said. He eyes the Dark One, trying to read his expression, but it is now blank as an unwritten page. „I will find something.“ Mersalis snatches the phial from the snarled golden hand, and pockets it. „And I will find her, no thanks to you.“ „Be careful what you wish for,“ the Dark One smiles. „And ask yourself whether it's wise to insult me.“ „I have the dagger.“ „You do. For now.“ The Dark One twirls around the box again; light little dancing steps, perfectly executed. „But I have meanwhile acquired a bargaining chip.“ Mersalis tries not to flinch and fails miserably. But he keeps his voice steady. „Like what, may I ask?“ The Dark One bows in mocking deference. „Like your real name.“ The statement hits Mersalis like a slap, and the flinch that follows is hard and fast. „Aaaaah,“ says the Dark One with a wink. „I see you're finally paying attention.“

 Mersalis' face is a question he can't ask, because it is stuck at the back of his throat. The Dark One lifts his hands, twists them in a familiar gesture of exaggerated theatrics. „You are wondering how I found out your real name? Give a man enough motivation and he can do anything, dearie. Especially if he is much, much more than a man.“ Mersalis attempts a nonchalant shrug, but it looks like a shudder. „What's in a name?“ The Dark One laughs out loud. „You are going to lecture me on the importance of a name? Me of all people?“ He laughs again, as Mersalis cringes. „Take the spell, find her. Do what you will. And then someday soon, we will have another conversation. About names and daggers and the meaning of life.“ He lifts his eyebrows, twists his left hand. The purple smoke rises around him. „Won't we, Pan.“

   CHAPTER 4

 The next day is brutal.

 Not even three hours in Emma is fighting to hold on to her sanity. Not to mention her forward momentum. She has stopped thinking, stopped looking, stopped paying attention. Her entire existence comes down to one single task: Keep putting one foot in front of the other.

 When Killian stops she runs right into him. And takes notice of him for the first time that day.

 He looks awful. He is leaning against the broad trunk of an oak tree; pale and sweaty and utterly exhausted. The straps from their supply pack are digging grooves into his shoulders. Blood has seeped through his bandages, stains his makeshift sling. He is trying to catch his breath and failing; Emma tries to do the same and doubles over instead.

 „What a pair we make,” Killian says, his voice raspy and uneven, but even now Emma can hear the hint of a smile. She doesn’t know how he keeps his sense of humor in the face of all this misery. She has not enough energy left even for frustration, she has not enough breath left for a reply. „Love,” Killian wheezes, „I think we have to look for shelter.” He’s watching her efforts to try and straighten up. Unsuccessful efforts. She can only unbend part of the way; and not falling to her knees is the only battle she wins. His eyes are worried and Emma nods. „Yes. We do.” She grinds out in puffs.

 Killian closes his eyes and forces his breathing to slow. Stands very still for a moment, listening intently. Then he pulls out his compass and checks their heading. „There,” he finally says, his voice almost back to normal, „the trees look to be less dense that way. Which is still in our general direction. It’s south enough for us.” He points at a patch of forest vaguely to their left. Emma thinks the trees look just as dense there as they look everywhere else, but she does not have it in her to say so. She needs all her energy to remain upright. So she nods again. Killian pushes away from the tree and starts walking slowly. Emma follows as fast as she can.

  And then they get unbelievably lucky.

 They enter a clearing less than half an hour later, and in this clearing stands a hut. A desolate, decrepit, ancient wooden cabin with holes in its walls and a door half off its hinges. The entire structure leans hard to the left and looks like a strong wind could blow it apart. Killian has never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.

 They stumble inside, and he lets their pack slide off his shoulders with a sob of relief. Next to him Emma just sinks to her knees, curling forward and clutching her side. Her breath comes in gasps. It sounds like she’s choking. He kneels by her side, puts a hand on her shoulder. She looks at him, winded. „Just give me a moment,” she hisses. „I’ll be fine.”

 Killian looks around. As best as he can tell this cabin has never belonged to anyone settled. It looks like transitory shelter – the kind lumberjacks and hunters and the occasional fugitive would use. In one corner is a bed with a mattress of rotting straw, facing him is a hearth which hasn’t seen fire in years. There are still a few logs piled up beside it, dry as tinder with age. The windows are holes covered with thin animal skin, torn and rippling in places, but enough for some light. There’s a weathered table and two crooked chairs, and against the left wall sits a small cast-iron stove. With an actual pipe that extends through the roof. It’s perfect.

 He gets a fire going in the hearth and pulls the mattress from the bed. It reveals a cot with passable canvas. Emma sits up and gives him a tired smile. „This is so much better than nettles and rain.” „Aye love, it is.” Smiling back at her is fast becoming his favorite habit. And then he sways. She awkwardly rises and takes his arm. When she pushes him down on a chair he does not resist. His head feels like it’s floating. His limbs are weightless. There’s an odd buzzing sound in his ears. Emma’s hand is cool on his forehead, and her eyes holding his are so green, so clear. He leans forward and touches his lips to hers.

 Emma goes completely still. She stops breathing. His mind catches up to his actions and he pulls back at once, looks at her stunned face, her eyes wide and glassy. „I’m so sorry, love.” He has to explain. If this leads to damage he will never forgive himself. „I should not have…” „Stop.” She whispers. „Stop. I…” Lifetimes pass. Then she leans forward slowly, so very slowly, until he can feel her lips on his. They are soft and hesitant and oh so lovely. It takes every ounce of his strength not to push, not to open; to let her take the lead. He feels the cut on her lip, she ignores it completely. His hand slides up her neck, cups the back of her head as she slowly explores; and it’s all too much and yet not enough. Never enough. He was put on this earth to kiss this woman.

 She disentangles herself what feels like hours later, and the expression on her face is dazed. And happy. He realizes that he has not yet seen her happy. And that he wants her to look happy for the rest of her life. „Killian.” She says it quietly, not breaking the perfect bubble of this moment around them; and it is the answer to a question he hadn't known how to ask. He looks up into her clear green eyes and nods.

She steps away and retrieves a flask from their pack. „Drink this,” she says, her voice still barely above a whisper. „You feel warm.” Killian actually feels like he’s burning, and that it has nothing to do with his injury. But he complies, swallows Granny’s awful concoction, because somewhere far away his arm is swollen and throbbing. Emma spreads her cloak across the canvas of the cot and pulls out their blankets. She has to help him stand up. Keep him steady for the few steps across the room. He sinks down on their makeshift bed with a sigh. His hand wraps gently around her wrist. „Lie down with me,” he says and for a moment he’s afraid. That Emma will say no. But she smiles. Still looks happy. Worried – but happy. Without another word she spreads the blankets and lies down beside him, her face on his chest and her arm across his waist. He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

  Killian is a furnace blazing next to her when Emma wakes up. His eyes are squeezed shut, his hair is soaked; sweat beads on his forehead. Emma puts out a hand and his cheek is burning. He stirs from her touch and opens his eyes. They are glazed and unfocused. He looks around with a puzzled expression, like he can't place where he is in space and time.

 „Killian,” she says, „do you know where you are?” It takes him a long time to answer. „Woods?” He croaks. „On the run with you?” She sighs with relief. „Killian,” she repeats, „I have to look at your arm.” When she peels back the bandage her breath catches. The cut is angry and red and oozing, his arm is swollen, his skin on fire. Emma has never before felt so helpless. This is something no ointment can fix.

 „Love?” he says and it sounds so far away. She looks up. He is is watching her face, back in the present. „I don't know what to do.” It's a whisper at most. He smiles at her, and tears spring to her eyes. „Don't cry, love.” His good hand comes up, intertwines with hers. „Especially not over a bastard like me.” A sobbing laugh escapes Emma's throat, and she squeezes his fingers. „Don't joke, not now. I have to figure out how to fix this.” „There's nothing to fix, love. We just have to wait, let it run its course.” „No.” She shakes her head in defiance. „There has to be something that I can do.” She tries to recall everything Granny ever told her about healing plants, about bringing down fevers, about halting infections. She comes up empty. All she feels are tendrils of panic, wrapping around her racing heart. Killian smiles at her. His thumb gently rubs the back of her hand. „Shhh, love.” He says. „It will be alright.”

 It feels like a hand is squeezing her chest. She's afraid, so afraid. She is helpless, so helpless, so very ill-equipped for this. She realizes that she has no proper skills, no relevant knowledge, nothing to offer. Infection and fever are formidable foes. Theirs is a war most do not survive. And she needs him to survive. She needs him to live. She needs him to live.

 His thumb is still rubbing across her knuckles, and his eyes are soft, his smile warm and tender. Tears blur her eyes. There is panic that rises, and chokes her, and conquers, and she can’t breathe, she can’t think, she can’t – she can’t she can’t

 And then it. Just happens.

 Golden light bursts from the fingers of her empty right hand and swirls down his arm, and she can feel it pulling and pulling and pulling – until it erupts in a blinding flash.

 When she snatches her hand back it reveals perfect skin. There's not even a scar. She shakes as she hesitantly feels his forehead, and his skin feels cool and dry to her touch. There is silence, stunned silence. All she can hear is his breath; fast, but even. All she can feel is shock. And drain. She looks at her hand, but it looks normal. So normal. Common, unspectacular, ordinary. It is callouses and healed scars and skin, just skin.

 Killian finally moves to sit up, but his good hand stays in hers, their fingers entwined. „Emma,” he whispers. „How in the world did you do that, love?” Emma cannot answer him. Because she doesn't know.

   CHAPTER 5

 Four days later they come to the outskirts of a small seaside town.

  They had spent two more days at the cabin, mostly so Emma could rest. During that time they learned several things: Emma can’t heal herself. What she does feel is better – the cuts and the bruises on her face have vanished. But she can’t make the golden light come back at all. Neither one of them knows what Emma did, or how. Killian’s hand is still ruined. The last three fingers will not uncurl, and he has no feeling in them at all. Emma is more upset about this than he is. Neither one has mentioned the kiss. But they sleep curled together on the cot, and wake up better rested than they ever have before. In their lives.

 After two days, with their supply of hard tack running dangerously low, they set out through the woods once more. The first day turned out much less exhausting than their journey beforehand, in part because the forest became less dense, and in part because they were both feeling much better. They happened upon a road on the morning of the fourth day, and Emma had insisted they take it. Killian couldn’t argue. It was a deserted road – and it lead south. Around noon the forest dropped away to reveal the shore, and the road started curling east alongside the ocean. They stayed on it until they saw the first outlines of roofs and smoking chimneys.

  Walking towards the town line is like re-entering civilization. Such as it is. Killian looks at Emma and grins. „Much as it pains me to utter anything even approaching criticism as regards to your appearance, I think a haberdashery should be our first stop,” he says. Emma smirks. „Are you telling me I’m filthy after only a week of sleeping in the woods?” „I would never go as far as that. I am merely pointing out that your dress has seen better days. Back when you had regular access to water.” His eyebrows dance as he says it, and he runs his hand down her arm.

 Two more things Emma has learned in the past few days: That Killian likes to stay in contact with her. Almost like he needs tangible, regular, physical connection. For someone who has never liked to be touched, she enjoys these little bonding moments immensely. And also that Killian can be wickedly funny.

 „There is a flaw in your grand plan,” she smiles. „We have no money.” Killian laughs out loud. „Emma,” he says, while his eyebrows do some truly impressive acrobatics. „You don’t honestly think I go anywhere without sufficient funds?” Emma stops dead in her tracks. She can feel her jaw drop. „You had money? All this time, while we were slogging through hell and damnation - you had coin? We trudged through all this—” she waves her arm in the general direction of the forest— ”when we could have hired a wagon? Paid for a ride?”

 He sighs, turning back to where she’s still rooted to the spot, and his playfulness vanishes. „Love,” his eyes hold hers, „during the course of my rather colorful career, I have encountered many a circumstance during which I did not want to be located. And I have found that the best way to achieve that goal is to not be where people look for me.” Again his hand comes up, cups her shoulder. „The best way to disappear and stay that way for a long time, is to take all potential witnesses out of the equation for as far a distance as you can manage. Anyone could have happened to look out a window, or a door, or the top of a cart, and recognized you, noticed you walking, or worse – hitching a ride. These are the memories most easily loosened by money, even long after the fact. A coin in the right hands will eventually yield the direction you went.” Emma nods, stricken. She did not think of any of these possibilities. Thought the cover of night was sufficient. She imagines Mersalis springing silver in every town in a ten-mile radius around their village, and realizes she would have left a trail as wide as the King’s Road without even noticing. She would have been caught and brought back and punished. She might have paid for her brief burst of freedom with her life.

 „Buck up,” Killian goes on, running his thumb down her clavicle, light and feathery, like a whisper across her skin. „There is no reason for you to have known any of this. It is your first escape after all.” He smiles. „I had to learn most of these lessons the hard way myself. No one drops from the stars just knowing these things. And why should you not benefit from my expertise for a change? Since you have already done some rather significant deeds yourself. Such as saving my life. Twice.” Emma bites her lip. She can’t help the feeling of inadequacy, of having nothing useful to contribute to their journey. Nothing useful at all. Because she cannot take credit for saving his life. She cannot take credit for an accident and pure, dumb luck. Killian looks at her in earnest now, his eyes serious and imploring. And very, very blue. „Love,” he says, „you are not lacking, nor deficient, nor weak. You are not found wanting. Believe me when I tell you that not many could have survived your life, not without exorbitant damage to themselves, not without contaminating, without corrupting their souls. Do not judge yourself on matters which have no bearing on your worth.” He says it with such fervor, such conviction. He means every word. And so Emma decides to believe him.

  They enter the town and Killian pulls her aside next to the first store window which features clothes. He takes off his right boot and pulls what looks to be a looped leather clasp at its top. From between the outer layer and the lining tumble quite a few coins, all of them gold. „That’s quite the fortune,” Emma can’t help but say. It’s more money than she has ever seen in one place. In her life. „I’m quite the pirate.” Killian winks at Emma and hands her a coin. „There you go, love,” he grins. „Now go and get enough garments to last a journey across an ocean.  While I go see about a boat.” He points across the street to a sign which reads 'King’s Harbor Inn'. It's a posh-looking place, with a red awning and two liveried door men. „We’ll meet there when you’re done.” „Isn’t this a little above our station?” Emma tries not to squirm, but it is not easy. Killian bends close to her and whispers in her ear. „There is no station above you, love. Remember that. And no one searching for you will ever assume to look for you there.”

 That night – after Emma trades her dress for breeches and her corset for a vest; after they each have a bath; after they eat a good meal – finds them lying on the bed, facing each other. Emma’s expression is somber. When she finally breaks the silence, her voice is quiet. „Thank you.” Killian wants to respond. Wants to say something witty, something clever, something to mitigate the weight of her gratitude. He finds he is the one lacking, in the face of her honesty. In the face of her.

 He cannot bring himself to invalidate her sentiment, to cheapen it with a quip. So he remains silent, reaches up and takes her hand, and that’s how Emma falls asleep. Holding his hand. Killian watches her face relax and her eyelids start to flutter. He listens to her deep, relaxed breaths for a very long time.

 „You and me, love,” he finally whispers. „You and me. Until the end of time.”

   CHAPTER 6

 Emma wakes up surrounded by Killian. It is strange and peculiar and wonderful and unnerving and so, so comfortable. So, so different from that cot at the cabin. In the woods there had been limited space no matter where they battened down for the night. Closeness had been unavoidable. Here, they share a bed – but this bed is spacious. Two people can easily sleep on it without ever coming in contact. And yet. Killian is asleep behind her, pressed along the length of her body, his nose buried at the back of her neck and his arm heavy across her middle.

 Emma’s instincts kick in hard, and her first one is flight and her second is fight and she struggles for a moment to rein herself in. To sink back into the moment, into this feeling of contentment and ease and, yes – shelter. She knows that she let her guard down days ago. Her defenses had been of no use against Killian; he had snuck his way past them that very first night, when he had asked whether she was in pain. And used the word ‘love’. To refer to her. But waking up is a different matter, and for days now Emma has come out of sleep ready for battle. She takes a deep breath and puts her hand on his, where it’s splayed across her belly.

 „Stop thinking so loudly this early in the morning,” comes a sleepy voice behind her. His breath puffs across her skin. It tickles, and she giggles. When was the last time Emma giggled? Has she ever? She moves her head a fraction in his direction. „You cannot possibly hear me think.” She counters. „I can feel you tense up, love.” He says, and pulls her closer to him. „As a waking method it is nearly as good as a bucket of ice water.” Emma snorts. „I might just test this theory one day. Have a proper comparison.” Killian smacks a wet kiss to her neck and says, „do not dare!”, and then everything goes quiet as he realizes what he has done. He is still as a statue. Frozen. And utterly silent.

 Emma turns in his arms. He looks stricken and it occurs to her that he is afraid. Of her. Of her. How can this man, who walks cheerfully into danger, who makes her laugh, makes her giggle, who lies on his deathbed and still reassures her, still be so very unsure of himself? So uncertain about her? What has she done?

 So Emma stops fighting. She leans forward and presses her lips to his. And it is just as lovely as it was the first time. It becomes more lovely when he starts to kiss back.

  „We really have to get up, love,” he says eventually. Emma has lost all track of time. „I suppose so.” She is wary of breaking this newfound peace between them. This tranquility inside her. But life marches on, and she has to march with it. They are not out of danger, yet. „Did you find us a boat?” Killian grins, and it looks different than before. He looks happy, she realizes. Truly happy. „You are a dreadful influence on me, love,” he says. „I did indeed find us a boat. And I paid for it.” He looks like the word tastes absolutely repulsive. Emma laughs out loud. „You bought us a boat? Are you not supposed to have a healthy disregard for all the laws in all the lands?” „Like I said, love. You are an atrocious role model. You’ll have me walking on the straight and narrow next.” „Let’s not be hasty,” Emma cannot stop smiling. „I would not want you to change too much.” It is remarkable how quickly he can switch back to sincerity. „Do you mean that?” He asks, and it is not in jest. She runs her finger down his cheek, chases the vanishing smile. This answer she can give him with utter conviction. „Yes. I do.” His answering smile blots out the sun.

  An hour and a large breakfast later they are standing at the pier, looking at a vessel which to Emma’s untrained eye looks questionably seaworthy. It has one mast and two rolled-up sails which look patched in places. Many, many places. It also looks small and vulnerable, even moored in its slip. Like their combined weight could sink it. Like anything stronger than a light breeze could capsize it.

 „Hop in,” Killian says behind her.

 Emma has bound her hair back and tied a scarf around it, and she is wearing her cloak, buttoned up to the neck. While this goes a long way towards camouflaging her actual appearance, it is singularly cumbersome when trying to move. Especially when said move is a hop. She gives Killian a long look which conveys in no uncertain terms that she is not amused, and then steps off the quay and more or less falls into the boat. Not quite managing to remain upright. Rather falling squat on her behind. Killian has the very good sense not to laugh out loud.

 He enters the boat after her as if he was walking out of a front door, and Emma glowers and decides to remain seated. A subtle change comes over Killian the moment he gets on board. He is now in his true element. A bird finally taking flight, a seal finally diving back into the ocean after having crawled on land for far too long. He explains the headsail and the mainsail and port and starboard and tacking and jibing and a dozen other things. Emma tries to pay attention, but he’s a dervish, pulling ropes and tying off cleats and somehow everywhere at once; and it’s all she can do to stay out of his way. He curses often, vehemently; keeps shaking his left hand. Does awkward reach-arounds with his right. Emma bites her lip trying to imagine how hard it must be for him to adjust a lifetime’s worth of muscle memory to a dysfunctional limb. She wants to offer her help, but does not know how to ask. So she remains silent, letting him grunt and toil and use all the profanity he wants. She learns several new expressions.

 Within minutes the pier is vanishing into the distance behind them and the prow plows the water with speed. Killian sits down, holding the tiller and looking like he and the boat are two parts of a whole. „Stop biting your lip,” he calls out to her. „If we hit some chop you’ll bite it clean through.” Emma relaxes her mouth immediately. „And come up here.” He holds out his hand, motions to the empty space beside him. „Just watch the boom.” Emma huffs. „I don’t know what that is.” Killian smiles his first smile since leaving the harbor. „This pesky piece of wood right here. Attached to the mainsail.” And he pats the horizontal beam pointing slightly off to his left.

 Emma gets up carefully and takes three wobbling steps towards him, does the least graceful turn in the history of rotation and comes down next to him with a thump. Killian pulls her against him with his left arm while his right remains steady on the tiller. „You get a much better view from up here.” His eyebrows dance. His smile is hopeful and unguarded. His eyes shine, bright and happy. Emma could not agree more. This is the best view. Anywhere.

  //////////

 The drawer splinters as Mersalis hurls it at the wall, and he looks around the detritus of what was once his hovel. He has torn the place apart. He has looked in every wall space, every cupboard, every wardrobe niche, nook and cranny -- and found nothing to help him locate his missing wife. Nothing. Emma came into his life with naught but the clothes on her back, and she has not accumulated any possessions of note since. None which are truly hers. Enough hers for a locator spell. There are baskets she wove and a few clothes left behind, but none of these even twitch when given a drop of his phial.

 Mersalis is seething.

 He wipes sweat from his brow. Kicks the door of the sideboard shut with enough force to nearly take it off its hinges. His back aches, his shoulders are sore, and there is a dull pounding at the base of his skull. He is breathing too hard, and he huffs in frustration. He reviles this lumbering body he has been cursed into, this shell without magic. This lock to which Emma was supposed to be the key.

  He had sensed it the moment he'd set eyes on her: The undercurrent of dormant magic. It had been weak and thready, the beat of her power; a pulse barely fluttering. A hairline seam of gold under a mountain of bedrock. A forbidden fruit, a vein untapped – hidden so deeply that the girl herself was unaware of it. But unmistakably there. To him it had sounded like a siren's call. Here was power, here was magic; unspoiled, ready for the taking in all its pure shining glory, for him to reap and twist and wield until it ripped away his curse. Releasing his true self from its shackles. His true and rightful self which had been straining, struggling, suppressed under the yoke of Mersalis for all these long years. Releasing Pan.

 Oh, the reckoning he would bring. The revenge he would take on both foes and enemies. On each and every single person who had contributed to his demise. Profited from it. And the most exquisite punishment he would save up for the one who had caught him, the one who had cursed him, and left him to fate. Her punishment would be a monument to his cruelty, his rage, and the ultimate reversal of his defeat: Never. Ending.

 He had been close enough to taste it.

 All he had had to do was dredge up Emma's power from the abyss of her ocean, bring it up to the surface, and then harvest it all. And magic that hidden required coercion, an essential need in order to rise. There is no need more essential than the one for self-preservation. The will to live is a powerful thing.

So Mersalis had gotten to work. Plucked her from her home, stripped her of her friends and her family and most of her dignity in one fell swoop. Cut her off from the world. And let his savage side come out to play.

 He had started off slowly, just teasing her magic – small acts of cruelty, minor abuse. Always unpredictable, never within reason; designed to take her off balance. He had increased slowly in both damage and malevolence; twisting and bowing and bending her body and her spirit towards the breaking point. He had tortured Emma for weeks. For months. It had yielded absolutely nothing. No amount of punishment, of cruelty, of devastation had broken her, had made her magic come forth.

  And now she is gone, with nothing left behind.

Mersalis punches the wall. His hand screams in protest. Pain lances all the way up to his shoulder and he doubles over, tries to breathe through the agony. Then his eye catches on something lodged in the crack of a floorboard, and he smiles a smile so cruel, it looks out of place even on a face as vicious as his. Stuck at his feet is her wedding ring.

 ////////////

 They drop anchor long after the moon has risen. Killian ties off the tiller and settles himself and Emma into the bottom of the boat, leaned against the port side, huddled together beneath her cloak.

 „Emma,” he says, and somehow the word has more weight than their anchor. „Emma, I have to tell you something.” Emma looks up. Killian looks tired, and worn, and apprehensive. He quirks a wan smile, but his eyes wander off to the dark horizon. He can’t look at her. Emma resists the temptation to speculate about his change of mood, or the topic he is trying to broach. She nods at him, and then simply waits. Killian remains silent for a long time. When he finally speaks, his voice is subdued.

 „I don’t quite know how to tell you this, love. But I can’t just let you…” His voice drifts off. He tries again. „Emma, the way I am with you is a version of me the way I used to be, before the Navy. Before I became a pirate. The way I would love to see myself now.” He takes a deep breath. „But in reality I have become a different man on the decks of the ships which have steered my course. I am a different man altogether.” He raises a hand, runs it through his hair. It looks helpless. „I am selfish. I am callous. I am a survivor only because I am single-minded in my predilection for self-preservation. As I have said before, I am a villain.” He is quiet for another moment. „I don’t know how you managed to bring out my former self. There might be more than one kind of magic that runs through your veins.” He laughs a small laugh, wistful, unsure. „But tomorrow we will reach Tempest Falls, and with any luck the Jolly will be docked in its harbor. And I don’t know who I will be once we board her.” He looks at her for the briefest of seconds before his eyes flick back to the dark, dark waters. „I may very well become the pirate instead of the man. I just wanted you to know.”

 Emma looks at him. She realizes that she knows that this may very well happen, that she has always known that it was a likely turn of events. That this perfect bubble they have been living in, this path which was theirs alone to forge, might not lead any further than the deck of his ship. What surprises her is the realization that she does not mind. That she would do everything exactly the same way again, even if she knew for sure that the outcome was not going to be in her favor.

 „Killian.” It’s the first time she says his name since that day at the cabin. „Killian, look at me.” He has to force his eyes away from the sea and towards hers. They are blank now, large and empty. He is looking at her, but he does not see her. „Killian, do you remember the promise you made me? Before we started this journey?” He nods like his head is not part of him. „That is the only promise you made me, and it is the only promise to which I will hold you.” She says it with sincerity, with ardor. „You do not owe me any more than that.” Killian blinks. Slowly. „So whatever happens, you tell me when you come to the end of the line. You do not drag me along like a wooden limb. You do not let me become a source of anger and frustration and misplaced obligation. You owe me nothing except to let me go when your journey with me ends.”

 His arms come around her like bands of iron, and he buries his face in the back of her neck. Emma’s cheek is pressed to his chest, and she can hear his galloping heartbeat. The rough intake of breath. When he finally speaks, his voice is uneven, but sure. „Aye, love, I did promise you that. And no matter what comes, I will keep it.”

   They reach Tempest Falls the next afternoon. The Windshear Islands did not get their name for nothing, but today the weather is pleasant and the breeze light. They have no trouble sailing into the harbor and finding a mooring. Their mood is subdued, but not strained; and Killian is still tactile. But the aspect of his small touches has changed – there is a desperate quality to them now. As if he is unsure how long he will still be allowed this way of staying in contact with her. As if he has to burn the feel of Emma into his memory before it all goes away. Emma surprises herself again with how little concerned she is about the future. Since there is nothing to do but wait and find out, she is free to enjoy the present moments. She feels neither fear nor apprehension. Whatever may come, she does not want to waste any of this here and now. She tries to convey this to Killian by smiling at him. Often. Most of the time he smiles back.

 They tie off the boat in an empty slip. Killian shoulders their pack and lifts Emma out onto the pier.

And then several things happen simultaneously.

While he is telling her that they have to go see the harbor master about the Jolly, he sees Emma come to a dead stop While she is listening to Killian talk about the Jolly she notices a figure at the end of the pier Killian turns to Emma whose face has gone whiter than chalk and Emma notices a shadow to her right and feels a hand close around her wrist, a hand that shimmers with strange flecks of gold and then Killian notices a dark, menacing figure walking towards them and they both hear a voice, calm and collected and filled to the brim with cruel satisfaction say, „hello, wife.”

 And then the strange golden hand around Emma’s wrist tightens and purple smoke erupts at her feet and Killian hurls himself at her, wraps his arms around her, and they fall to the ground but there is no more ground the pier itself has vanished and then Emma is ripped from –

  Silence reigns as the last wisps of smoke dissipate. Leaving nothing but dumbfounded spectators, staring blankly at the empty space where four people had stood just a moment ago.

   CHAPTER 7

 In the darkness Killian has a moment to realize. That when danger came he chose Emma. Not himself, Emma. YouAndMeLoveUntilTheEndOfTime.

 And then he finds himself lying facedown with his nose pressed against a cold stone floor. He plays dead, or at least unconscious; not moving, just listening. „There you are, dearie.” It's a voice he does not know; mocking, with an undercurrent of malevolence. „You finally got your heart's desire. Whatever will you do with her now?” „You know exactly what I want,” comes the second voice, and Killian recognizes it immediately, even though he has only heard it through floorboards and a cracked window. This is Mersalis, and he has found them. Killian curses inwardly as the voice goes on. „Release her magic. Undo my curse.” The first voice laughs. „And you need my help?” „It appears that I do.” „I thought so, dearie. But remember that all magic comes with a price.” „I have your dagger.” „I wasn't referring to myself at this very moment. When I say all magic has a price, I mean hers does as well. Are you willing to pay it?” „Yes, I am,” Mersalis growls, „you know I am willing to pay any price. Even hers. Even yours.” The first voice laughs again, and it is all the wrong shades of joyful. „Excellent, dearie.” The next part is a whisper. „And make no mistake, before this is done you will owe me as well. I will name a price and you will pay it in full.” Mersalis' voice comes again, and it sounds like he has turned towards Killian. „Can we decide what to do with this hanger-on first?” „Leave him be for now,” the first voice comes again. „He was both brave and stupid enough to hold on to your bird when we caught her. He might become a neat bargaining chip.”

 Fear runs down Killian's spine like a long freezing finger. He wills his breathing not to hitch, but it is a near thing. Then he realizes that he has not heard Emma speak at all, not one sound; and it amplifies his fear. He very nearly moves at that, the urge to jump up and start swinging his sword overwhelming. But he knows at least one of these men has magic enough to whisk four people through space as if the laws of nature meant nothing to him. This is not an opportune moment for him to sacrifice his only advantage.

 „Fine.” Mersalis says, further away. He has turned his back on Killian again. „Then let's get started.” „Nah-ah-ahhh!” If Killian never hears that first voice's amusement again, it will be too soon. „First we agree on a price for my help.” „No.” Mersalis' reply is a growl. „First we see whether I need your help at all.” Killian's blood turns to ice in his veins. „By all means, dearie, let's give your crude methods one more try. After all, they worked so well before.” „Can you wake her up, or is that going to cost me?” „That I think I can give you for free.”

 Both voices have now turned away from Killian. He carefully lifts his head, sees two pairs of boots a few feet away. He hears a gasp and a choked “wha..” which is unmistakably Emma. And then comes the sound of a knife being unsheathed. Caution flies out the window. He jumps up with a scream, his right hand grabs his sword hilt, and he is arrested in mid-air, rendered immobile. And then slammed against a wall. Vines crawl around his arms and legs, holding him fast several feet off the ground. Emma hangs next to him, held in place the same way, her eyes shocked and confused. „So nice of you to join us.” The owner of the first voice is a small man dressed in brown leather. Strange gold-green flecks cover his skin, give him an odd sparkle. They are in a large, broken-down hall, cold and crumbling in many places. What must once have been a throne is at the far end; a ruined stump remains of formerly impressive carved stone. Next to the golden creature stands the hulking shape of the man he saw at the end of the pier. So this is Mersalis.

 Killian tries to pull his arms free. They don't move an inch. Instead he can feel the vines tightening, slicing through the fabric of his tunic like a knife through warm butter. Cutting into his skin. „Killian, stop.” Emma's voice is a whisper, but he can hear it clearly, even through the roaring in his ears. „Please, Killian. Stop.” He halts his efforts, feels warm blood start to drip down his arms. He looks at Emma, holds her gaze, helpless. There are tears in her eyes, but her smile is soft. And just for him.

 „Awwwww,” comes the mocking voice of the gold-flecked man before them. „So sweet and so useless, this blossoming love.” Emma's eyes grow large and round and Killian feels his own do the same. But before either of them can speak, Mersalis' voice breaks the moment, impatient. „Oh stars above, I am so tired of your games.” He steps forward, a knife in his hand, and starts to run it up Emma's torso, where it shows unprotected between the vines. It leaves a thin trail of red in its wake.

 Emma tries not to struggle, but she cannot help it; and the vines tighten around her, do more damage than the blade; and Killian has to watch blood well through dozens of cuts, on her arms, on her legs, on her neck, on her neck; and the golden man smiles a smile of pure satisfaction; and Killian screams, screams for Emma to stay still; and Mersalis' licks his lips, leans forward in eager anticipation; but nothing happens.

 There is no golden light to burst forth and save them.

 Mersalis' brows draw together in rage, and he presses harder, and the vines cut deeper, and Killian's screams grow hoarse, and Emma's struggle grows weaker, and blood keeps welling, keeps dripping, keeps running - and suddenly a new voice calls out, „ENOUGH!”

 Everything stops.

 From the middle of the room, a figure walks towards them. It has the shape of a woman, but nothing about her looks human at all. With a flick of her wrist, Mersalis' knife clatters to the ground, and he is thrown against the wall on the other side of Killian, vines now wrapping around him as well. The golden man stares with his mouth hanging open. The woman smiles. It is terrifying.

 „Imbecile,” she says in the direction of Mersalis. „And you,” she rounds on the golden man, „I expected more cunning from you, Dark One.” She says 'Dark One' as if there were no greater insult in the realm. The man's mouth moves, but no sound comes forth. Then she looks up at Killian and Emma. Her gaze alone cuts him down to the core. She smiles her dreadful smile again. „Let me introduce myself properly,” she says lightly, as if they were sitting around a dinner table. „My name is Fiona, and I am a fairy.” She laughs. „As a matter of fact, I am the fairy.”

 Killian has heard about fairies, of course he has. Tiny, candy-colored fae wisps who roam the dreams of wide-eyed girls and meddle in love lives. That is not who this is. This fairy wears black. She is formidable in her bearing, terrible in her beauty. He looks at Emma and sees no surprise register on her face. She looks like she is utterly overwhelmed. She just stares without seeing.

 „Now,” says the fairy, „let's see what we have here.” She gives a mock bow in the direction of Emma and Killian. „You must be so confused by all this.” Her voice is smoother than silk. „Let me introduce the players before I tell you what parts you will play.” She motions to Mersalis. „This is a misguided Lost Boy named Peter Pan. Currently cursed into the body of a mere mortal of my own choosing. Desparately trying to reclaim his true self. And under the impression that you can help him in his quest, Emma.” She smiles, bright and cheerful. It chills Killian's bones right down to the marrow. „He saw that Emma has magic, buried down deep.” Her voice becomes a conspiratorial whisper. „He thought he could release it through cruelty and fear. But he could not, and for that there is good reason.” Her voice changes again, becomes mocking and acerbic. „Before I come to you, Emma, let me explain that this creature next to me,“ she points at the golden one, „was once a man called Rumplestiltskin. He sold his soul in exchange for magic, and now roams the lands as the Dark One – infinitely powerful, but tied in his fate to the will of a dagger.“ She twists her hand and a jagged dagger appears in it. Mersalis spits out a curse and she looks at him with cold amusement. „In the pocket of your cloak, Pan? That's not where you keep a weapon like this. Not if you want to continue to keep it.” Killian sees that the eyes of the creature she called the Dark One are riveted to the dagger. The Black Fairy addresses the Dark One in turn. „Oh Rumple,” she says. „I know what you want. And you cannot have it.” She turns back to the three people hanging on the wall. „In a former life,” she points at Rumplestiltskin, „he was also my son. And I was his mother. But that is not important today.” The Dark One frowns, but remains frozen in place. His lack of movement is not voluntary. The Black Fairy has immobilized him as well. „So you see, Emma,” the Black Fairy goes on, „you are just one small part of the reason we find ourselves here now.”

 „What do you want?” Emma's voice sounds strange to Killian's ears. Detached somehow, much too neutral. As if she was inquiring about the weather. „What do I want.” The fairy hums to herself. „What indeed.” She looks up and smiles her terrifying smile. „Pan's wellspring, of course.” Next to Killian Pan's entire body spasms with rage, and he gasps as the vines tighten around his limbs. „That's what all of this is about?” he grinds out between teeth clenched in pain, „Neverland water?” The Black Fairy laughs. „It is not merely water, and you know it.” „You did this to me because of a spring? Because of a spring? I will kill you where you stand once I get my hands on you, kill you and bring you back and kill you again, until you---“ „Hush,” says the fairy and puts her finger to her lips. Pan's rant is cut off like a clipped string. „You talk too much.” She smiles again, pauses for a moment. Just enjoying herself. Killian looks at Emma who looks pale and strained and his heart constricts. He thinks of the morning at the King's Harbor Inn, both of them interlocked like puzzle pieces. They should have stayed in that bed. Forever.

 But the Black Fairy presses on, relentless. „Now, Emma. I'm sure you are wondering just what you are doing here. Pan,” she points again, „thought your magic could release him from his cursed form, Mersalis. And it could have, had he not looked for it in all the wrong places.” She laughs again. It does not become less terrifying, no matter how often Killian hears it. Then she takes a step towards Emma. „I watched him take you and torture you as if that was enough. But it was never going to work.” Her voice drops to a whisper, sibilant as a snake's. „Because I gave you armor. Or rather, because I took your weakness away.” She twists her hand again, and in its palm a heart appears. Red and glowing and beautiful.

 Emma gasps, and in Killian's mind so many things fall into place. How calm Emma was when she told him her story. How empty her laugh when she talked about the worst. How serene she remained on the boat, when his fears overwhelmed him and he told her that when push came to shove he might not choose her. How very detached she seems to be now.

 „It was a test, of course.” The fairy continues. „I had to find out if your magic was strong enough. If it had enough power to rise to the surface despite you missing its key component.” She lifts the hand holding Emma's heart up for all to see. Killian is mesmerized by the golden light pulsing inside it. „And it turns out it was, just not for yourself.” She turns to Killian. „Which brings us to you.” The night at the cabin comes back to Killian in perfect clarity. The memory is so sharp he can taste Emma's fear. She had been afraid then. Afraid for him. Right before her magic erupted. „Who would have thought a pirate would turn out to be the key to this heart?” Killian looks at the Black Fairy and rage such as he has never felt wells up in his veins. You did this to her. The thought pulses through his skull. I will get you for this, if it takes the rest of my life. „Look at you in your righteous anger,” the Black Fairy hums, grinning at Killian. „It's delicious. Now watch closely what happens when I do this.” And with those words she slams Emma's heart back into her chest.

 Emma screams.

 And screams and screams and screams and screams, until Killian feels like his ears are bleeding, until their echoes fill the hall and make it tremble, until chunks of rock start to fall from the ceiling--- and then something erupts to his left, where Emma was hanging a moment ago and the vines release him and he slides to the ground and golden light forms a bubble around him and Emma, Emma who stands there, next to him, panting, white as a sheet, but no longer screaming and blue light erupts from the Black Fairy's hand, shoots towards them and collides with Emma's golden sphere-- and both explode in a flash and a bang that shatters the throne at the end of the hall.

 The Black Fairy looks both irritated and shocked, but Killian spares her no notice. His eyes are glued to Emma. Emma who is still panting, doubled over, but slowly and surely straightening up. She squares her shoulders and lifts her chin. She has never looked this magnificent. It's as if he had been looking at a shadow of her true self this entire time, and now, finally gets to see the real thing. She is breathtaking. Formidable and beautiful and so very alive. Killian knows in this very moment that when push comes to shove he will never choose anything else but her.

 „So let me get this straight,” Emma says, and even her voice sounds different. Clear and powerful and sure, so sure. Golden light sparks between her fingers. „You let me be taken by this, this thing.” She points at Mersalis and the vines tighten, cut into his skin. He cries out in pain. „You let me suffer and hurt because you need my magic.” Killian can see that the Black Fairy now seems to be frozen in place. She has not moved a muscle. Emma smiles. „But this is not going the way you planned, is it?” She flicks her hand and now both the Black Fairy and Rumplestiltskin fly up against the wall. The vines wrap around them. They tighten immediately, cut through all clothing, and red wells up across three necks.

 Emma looks at Killian. In her eyes is a question.

 „Don't kill them,” he hears himself say. „Don't put that kind of weight on your soul.” His hand comes up to cup her cheek. Her eyes grow soft. He can feel her smile sink into his heart. „Don't do it, love.” He whispers, holding her gaze. „Let me do it for you.” He grips his sword, but Emma stays his hand. „No,” she says gently. „I won't let you do it. You have enough weight to carry yourself.” She turns back to the three figures on the wall. The vines keep spreading, keep twisting around them. „You,” the Black Fairy spits from between clenched teeth, „you insignificant little fool. I will make sure there is nothing left of you when I am done. I will strip you of your powers. I will not stop until you are naught but a pile of dust and misery. Not even a shell for your pirate to---” „Hush,” Emma says, and puts her finger to her lips. „You talk too much.” Golden light once again shoots from Emma’s hands and when it hits the Black Fairy it starts to burn blue. It's a battle of color and light until the blue erupts in a flash and the Black Fairy wilts, hanging in the vines like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Her face now looks lined and her eyes tired and – normal. The terrible beauty has been wiped away.

 „You have done enough damage to last several lifetimes,” Emma says, her voice sharper than a scalpel. „It is time to put an end to all this.” She closes her fist and the ceiling starts to crumble. Blocks of it fall and pile up against the wall, forming a cairn around the three bound figures. The entire structure starts to shake down to its foundation, and the walls start collapsing, and the ceiling is still falling, and Emma's hand reaches for Killian's wrist, and Killian's arms close tightly around Emma, and then there is nothing but blinding white smoke.

  And then both of their feet hit the deck of a ship. Killian looks up, his arms still around Emma. They are at sea, surrounded by an endless expanse of water and sky, and he knows these boards like the back of his hand. They are on the quarterdeck of the Jolly. Smee holds the wheel, gapes at them wide-eyed. A deckhand drops his bucket with a clatter. „Look,” Emma smiles. „I finally got you back to your ship.” And faints dead away.

   CHAPTER 8

 Once again Emma wakes up surrounded by Killian. But it is different this time. She is different. She is comfortable, and so, so warm, and she feels… she feels. Everything. The rocking motion of the ship, and the sun on her face, and Killian's breath across her neck, and his hand on her chest, splayed over her heart, beating. Her heart. Beating.

 How had she not noticed it had been missing? Emma’s mind wanders back to her time with Mersalis. Over all the pain and misery and dejection and agony. All those times of despair, of desperation, and still she never got to the end of her tether. Never found the end of her rope. All those times she had wanted to leave – money and long odds be damned. And then didn’t. More paralyzed inside her apathy than ever she was inside her fear. Oh, she should have known. She should have known.

 Killian is stretched out down the length of her side. When she turns, she finds him watching her, eyes wide open. As if he could read her thoughts like an open book. He is right there, with her, and the look in his eyes makes her want to cry. She smiles a watery smile instead, and then realizes: He looks exhausted. There are purple shadows under his eyes, and his scruff has turned into a definite beard, and he is so, so pale. Worn out. Drained. Spent. She cups his cheek. „Killian? Have you slept at all?” „Aye, love. A little.” Even his voice is tired, and thin. „How long have I been asleep?” He sighs. From the bottom of his heart. „The longest two days of my life, love.” His hand moves from her chest and starts rubbing her arm. „I am happy to see you awake again.” There is a hitch in his voice. Emma can feel it. Can feel the slight tremor in his hand as it brushes her arm; the fatigue in his eyes as he watches her face, tired, but glad. The warmth of his side when she lays her hand on his hip. The way his breath starts to stutter when she does. Her world has finally come back into color, after months and months of nothing but grey.

 Emma realizes that there are questions to be answered and events to be examined and explanations to be attempted and many, many things to be discussed, but she also realizes that she does not want to talk. At all.

 She wants to feel.

 She lets her hand wander along Killian's side and push up his tunic. Her fingers connect with his bare skin. It ignites a fire, and it roars through her veins, lighting a path, until every single nerve in her body has sparked to life. She leans forward and kisses him, and stars above, it is so different from anything that came before. It explodes into her with so much emotion. Killian groans and fists his hand into her hair, and then kisses her back like he's dying of thirst and she is a wellspring. Their mouths open for each other and for a few long moments there is nothing but taste. And then Emma pushes Killian onto his back and straddles him. Her hands push up fabric, exposing more skin, and she cannot stop touching him. Killian pants, runs his hands up her back, and she takes off her shirt in one swift motion. His eyes grow wide and very, very dark.

 „Emma.” He whispers. And can't seem to go on. She slides her hand down until she feels the hard length of him through his trousers. The sound Killian makes is half moan and half growl, and Emma smiles. „Killian.” He is looking at her like she is the only thing worth looking at in all of creation. Her heart is racing and she loves the feel of it. The feel of everything. Everything.

 She leans forward and kisses him, savage and reckless, and his response is relentless. Ferocious. Hungry. „Killian, please, I need...” She doesn't know how to say it, doesn't know how to ask. And Killian nods. Swallows hard. Looks up at her, his eyes filled with something she cannot name. Will not name. But she wants. Oh, she wants. In the space of a second he flips them around, still looking at her, with that look, that look; of promise, of resolve, and that damn tenderness. Emma grits her teeth, looks straight back at him, and lets herself fall. He divests them of all clothing in a matter of moments, and then reaches down to where she's aching, aching and when he slides into her it's like coming home.

   „I have to tell you something, love.” They lie facing each other, fingertips lazily running across warm skin. Emma has heard of bliss, but never known what it was until today. Killian looks at her with impossibly soft eyes, and she feels – whole. And happy. And wonderful. She smiles and waits for him to go on. „I will never have to keep that promise I made, love. Because I am never going to let you go.” He's still looking at her, his blue eyes unblinking. „It's you and me, love,” he whispers, and it sounds like an oath. „You and me, until the end of time.”

 Deep inside Emma a cold, dark abyss starts to fill up with warmth.

 „Good,” she says, and then runs out of words. Because there are no words big enough, vast enough, meaningful enough to express what it means to her to hear him say that. This is unknown territory. She knows not where she is, nor where she is going. But he is here, with her. Wants to stay here, with her. On this path she does not know, in this space with no map. With her.

 She can feel tears well up in her eyes, but he does not tell her not to cry. Just leans forward and kisses her, gently. „It may be dangerous,” she says. „I don't know what this magic will do inside me. I don't know how I did what I did in that hall.” He grins. „You saved us, love. Saved my life. Again.”

 Emma holds up her hand and tries to concentrate. To tap back into that current of power. A few tiny golden sparks light up and fizzle out immediately. „I really don't know how I did... what it was that I did,” she says, puzzled. „All I know is that when the Black Fairy restored my heart, something inside me just locked into place.” She looks up at Killian. He waits, quietly rubbing his thumb over her cheek. He hasn't stopped touching her, not for a moment. Emma tries again. „At first, it was like blood rushing back into a limb that's been asleep, but a thousand times worse. Just... feeling after being numb for so long – I thought I would shatter. It felt like my mind was coming undone.” „You screamed,” he whispers, „you screamed and screamed and I was helpless before it.” His eyes grow distant with the memory and she puts her hand on his hip, anchoring him. „There was nothing you could have done,” she says. „Nothing at all.” She smiles. „And then suddenly there was this-- torrent of energy. Like a flood gate had opened, and from it poured power.” She shudders. „I did not know what it was, but I knew how to wield it. Right there, in those moments, it did what I asked.” „You were bloody brilliant. It was like watching vengeance itself.” Emma laughs. High-pitched and unsteady. Killian's hand moves to the back of her neck, buries into her hair. He pulls her close slowly, leans his forehead against hers. „You were the most glorious creature I'd ever seen,” he says, his voice still a whisper. „You are the most amazing being I have ever known.” Emma cannot answer. There are no words. Just the tears in her eyes and a watery smile.

 He presses his lips to hers and then pulls back to look at her. „Do you think they will come after us, love?” „I think they will try.” She smiles, and it is a real smile this time. „But I have magic now, even if I can't wield it at will. Maybe I can learn to master it.” „I can help you, love. It does seem to be rather fond of me.” Emma smirks. „That it does,” she says. „Don't let it go to your head.” Killian grins and his eyebrows dance. „Why on earth not? I am the dashing pirate who was the key to its lock.” Emma swats his arm. „Oh please. It could have been anyone with a compass and a basic knowledge of boats.” Killian laughs out loud, gives her a smacking kiss. „Take that back,” he smiles. „You know it was me.” Emma knows it's a joke, but she can feel the truth of it resonate deep inside her. „Yes I do,” she tells him, and it is not in jest. His eyes grow soft, and her heart grows warm.

 And then she remembers. „Killian.” She sits up abruptly and looks around. „Where is my cloak?” His eyebrows raise up to his hairline at the question, and he points to one of the chairs at the table. Emma jumps out of bed, snatches the garment and dives back under the covers. She probes the folds of the cloak and pulls out a dagger.

 The dagger.

 Killian smiles. „In the pocket of your cloak, Emma?” Emma swats his arm again. „I had nothing else at hand. And I was hoping you could help me find a better hiding place.” Together they look at the dagger. Between its vicious curves are ornately carved letters. Rumplestiltskin. „I thought this might be a good weapon to have.” Emma takes a deep breath and her voice is now serious. „Killian, I need you to be sure of this.” Her eyes are thoughtful, her shoulders set. „Sure of staying with me. Because I think one day they will break from their prison. And come after me.” Killian takes her hand, winds his fingers through hers. „I'd like to see them try,” he says. „But no matter what happens, you will not be alone.” „Are you sure?” She whispers. „Aye,” he says, and she has never heard him more certain. „It's you and me, love. Until the end of time.” There is only one thing she can say to that. „Then it's you and me, Killian. No matter what happens.” His answering smile warms her down to her bones. „Good,” he says and gives her a long, slow kiss. Then he pulls back and waggles his eyebrows and Emma laughs. A true, joyful, heartfelt laugh. He squeezes her fingers. „Let's get up and get dressed, love. It's time for you to meet my crew.”