#cssns 2023 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

snowbellewells · 2 years ago

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@anmylica I am so sorry it’s taken me so long to read the start of your CSSNS story, but wow!! I am completely wrapped up in it now and anxiously awaiting what happens next. Clearly the black feather they found was indeed a clue, if their silent visitor at chapter’s end is any indication. 😏

I loved the way you sent the scene so vividly in the opening paragraphs. I have rarely felt so much like I was skimming along the waves and feeling the wind and water droplets in my face while I was reading as I did here. You captured the sailing of the Jolly Roger brilliantly! It’s also neat to see this version of Hook. He’s very much still the revenge-driven, season two rogue we first met, and that added another layer of mystery and uncertainty to what he does and what might happen yet.

Granny’s appearance at the tavern and her obvious distress over the change in Dark One and then the memory in the dream catcher Smee found paints a sad picture for Emma, but also brings more questions I’m eager to learn the story’s answer to. Did Emma know the Darkness would take her over? Was she the Princess in this version? What lead to her facing Rumplestiltskin alone?

I can’t wait to read more and find out!!! Thank you so much for sharing this!!! 😍😍😍

Fly With The Black Swan

Tagging the Usual Crew: @kmomof4 @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @snowbellewells @sotangledupinit @zaharadessert @whimsicallyenchantedrose @deckerstarblanche

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Summary: Captain Hook has finally returned to the Enchanted Forest after an all-too-long stint in the Enchanted Forest, ready to get his revenge, only he’s too late. His Crocodile has been killed by another, but the demon partially responsible for his Milah’s death remains. He sets out, determined to kill the demon once and for all, but a life or death situation puts him right in the demon’s clutches. Reluctantly, he joins the new Dark One, finding himself falling for her against his will and his motivations change. Now, he needs to save this woman from the same demon that killed his first love, and he plans out a way to save her.

But the Darkness has plans of its own.

CSSNS ‘23 Entry. Based on the Sonata Arctica song “Fly With The Black Swan”

Note: I have no idea if this is going to post or not. I am currently in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico with crappy satellite internet and none of my other attempts have gone through. Seriously, I’ve tried it a million times by this point. Maybe this time is the charm? I guess we’ll see. If it does post, I will be editing this Saturday to clean it up when I get home.

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The Jolly Roger landed hard in the ocean waters with a great splash that sent droplets of water into the air and on the deck, drenching most of her crew in the process. Captain Hook stood at the helm, seemingly unaffected by the wake, scanning the seas for any danger, always on his guard. He took a deep breath, turning his face up to the sun high in the sky, practically tasting the ocean on his tongue and thought, ‘This is what freedom smells like.’ The sails glittered with the remnants of the last vial of pixie dust he would ever have to use to get his ship airborne for a sojourn back to the Enchanted Forest again.

He had just spent countless years sailing the never ending circle of Neverland’s waters in the reluctant employ of a demon in a child’s body, never seeing the sun except for when he was Pan’s errand boy on a supply run back to the Enchanted Forest. His years under the deal with Pan were finally complete, and he felt that he had enough information to achieve his true mission: skinning his Crocodile.

Captain Hook stared at the cloudless sky, pondering his next steps as his first mate, William Smee, blundered about giving orders to the others. His crew scurried about letting out sails, hauling in lines, securing their goods, and generally making preparations to sail to the destination their captain ordered. Throughout the hustle and bustle, their captain stood stoic at the helm. He did not steer; his helmsman, Antonio Buckham, had the pleasure of directing the ship, and he stood with his hands tight on the wheel and his eyes on his captain’s profile, awaiting orders.

Hook’s forget-me-not blue eyes finally left the horizon and focused upon the map in front of him. If he had landed his ship in the location he had wanted, then he was just due south of Glowerhaven. This was a pirate-friendly port, and it was going to be the best place at which they could restock their supplies. He looked over at Buckham, who stood anticipating his orders.

“Make way to Glowerhaven,” Hook ordered, and Buckham nodded once.

“Aye, Captain,” he responded, turning to the rest of the crew before bellowing, “Make way to Glowerhaven!”

The crew repeated the order, and Buckham turned the wheel slightly as the others adjusted the sails. Through it all, Hook said nothing else, just watched the sea and the sky pass them by as they sailed towards their port of call. It was a sunny day with nary a cloud in the sky. A good wind at their backs filled the sails and carried them over the water so smoothly it was as if the ship was flying over the waves. All around the deck, his crew carried out their orders, bringing them into the port where they could find a tavern and food and relish their newfound freedom. Hook surveyed the work with disinterest, for so long as they arrived at their destination without issue, it did not matter to him how his crew did their jobs.

His cold, hard, forget-me-not blue eyes watched ahead of the bow as the land of the Enchanted Forest appeared in view. His jaw clenched at the sight. It was there that he would finally fulfill his life’s purpose. As the land grew closer and the short skyline of Glowerhaven became more distinct, he was filled with a sense that, at last, he was on the path for his vengeance. He was about to find his happy ending, however bittersweet it may be. A determined, almost manic glint filled his eyes, and his crew gave him side glances and moved away from him, hoping to avoid his ire, though he paid them no mind.

An hour later, The Jolly Roger had been docked into her berth, the crew had all left, and those tasked with her watch were settled in for a few hours. Hook was the last to leave, wanting to make sure everything was just so. He sauntered down the alleyways between buildings into a tavern at which he had long since been a patron. He knew that the last pieces of his plan could be crafted with information the owner likely had.

He opened the door and stepped inside, scanning the room for any potentially unsavory situations. The room was dimly lit and dirty, much like all portside taverns throughout the realms of the Enchanted Forest. Rough hewn tables of various sizes filled the room and stools of varying heights were haphazardly placed by each table. There weren’t many people occupying the tavern at this time of day, and so most of the tables were empty. His crew occupied a few, already having drinks and food delivered by several barmaids. The bar was manned by a lone attendant, and it was to her that he made his way.

He slid onto a stool at the bar in front of her with a beguiling grin on his face. The old woman scoffed and rolled her eyes, but she moved closer, grabbing a bottle of rum and a glass on her way.

“What are you scallywags doing here,” she demanded, plunking down the bottle and glass roughly. She looked over her glasses at Hook and stared him down, causing him to grin even wider.

“Is that any way to greet an old friend,” he responded, moving to open the bottle and pour himself a finger’s width of rum. He had no plans on getting drunk, but he wasn’t about to turn down the libation.

“You’re hardly a friend,” she retorted, causing him to laugh.

“A patron then,” he amended. “A well-paying patron.”

The woman surveyed him hard and then nodded. “What do you want, Hook?”

He shook his head slightly as he raised the glass to his lips and knocked back the measure of rum. “Many things,” he said, placing the glass back on the bar. “Mostly, I’d like information at the moment.”

The woman crossed her arms. “I ain’t got information.”

Hook smirked. “Come, now, Granny, you and I both know you’re the best there is at collecting information. And we both know how valuable I find it.”

He took out his coin purse and very deliberately counted out five doubloons. Granny watched him as he did so, quirking an eyebrow at him before sighing.

“You want to know about the Dark One’s movements,” she said, grabbing a second glass and pouring herself a measure of rum.

“Aye.” Hook eyed her with curiosity, as this was definitely out of the norm for their usual pattern of conversation.

Granny took a sip of her drink and met his eyes. “You’re a bit behind the times.”

“How so?” Hook questioned, leaning closer to the old woman, a frown on his face at Granny’s implication.

“The Dark One you chase is no longer the host of the Darkness. The host has changed,” Granny said bluntly, a strange look crossing her face.

Hook blinked as Granny fell silent, sipping her rum to allow him time to process her words. He didn’t move as he tasted the information on his lips, a horrible sensation of dread and despair filling him. His immediate instinct was to deny that it was possible, but he knew deep down that the woman’s look of despair and grief couldn’t be anything but real.

“Who is it now?” he asked, studying her face carefully, hoping to pick up on some nuance in her communication. He didn’t know what he was looking for exactly, but he felt disappointment all the same when he realize how upset she was.

Granny poured herself a bit more rum into the half-full glass and knocked back the entire thing in one swallow. Hook watched her dispassionately. She grimaced out of grief, and Hook realized this topic was a festering wound though he didn’t know why.

“I don’t know,” Granny denied, and Hook got the sense that she did indeed know but didn’t want to admit it.

Hook clenched his fist and narrowed his eyes. He felt a rage that he hadn’t felt since Rumplestiltskin had taken his hand and his love from him. All these years of seeking revenge, and for what? What was he left with now? He snarled at the thought of the Crocodile evading his hook another time.

Granny cleared her throat as she choked back tears, calling his attention back to her before he could fall any more into his anger. Her wet eyes shocked him out of his rage long enough to restore sense to his head. “You want any more than that, you’re out of luck. I know nothing else.”

Granny poured herself another shot and knocked it back. Once she had finished, she stood and moved down to another end of the bar without another word. Hook contemplated the bottle before deciding that today’s news had been bad enough. He poured himself a healthy measure and drained the glass. He glanced over to Smee and beckoned his head. Smee scrambled to his side, and when Smee was within earshot, he said, “Tomorrow we travel to the Dark One’s castle.”

Smee blinked before widening his eyes in fear. “To the Dark One’s castle?”

“Aye,” Hook responded. “There will be information there that we need.”

“But won’t he-“ Smee began but Hook cut him off.

“Apparently someone else got to the Crocodile before us. I want to know who and why.” Hook’s eyes hardened in resolve, and Smee gulped before nodding his head. “My best chance at getting answers is there.”

As Smee scrambled off back to the crew to pass the news around, Hook drank another healthy measure of rum, resigned to the situation at hand. This was merely a minor setback in his quest for revenge. He’d waited this long; he could bide his time a little longer.

The next morning dawned bright and cheerful, completely at odds with Hook’s mood. Hook had already left instructions to the next man in charge for getting supplies in his stead. He and Smee arranged for a couple of horses for the journey inland, and they made sure to have the necessary supplies for their journey.

The journey itself to the Dark One’s castle was mostly uneventful. Hook and Smee endeavored to find out all they could about the Dark One’s whereabouts, but no one wanted to talk. Either they didn’t know or they avoided the conversation once questions were asked and quickly hurried off on their way. Hook was quickly becoming vexed with the situation. He needed answers now.

“Don’t worry, Captain,” Smee attempted to reassure him after their latest fruitless encounter in a village just south of the Southern Kingdom’s borders. “We’ll find out more at the next inn.”

Hook just sighed in response. It would do no good taking his ire out on Smee. Not when the man was trying to help. Hook just nudged his horse forward into a trot.

“We can find out all we need once we reach the Dark One’s castle. Come and let us stop wasting time,” Hook replied.

Smee said nothing in response. Hook supposed it was because Smee could see just how fine the leash was on his temper. The two rode on in silence, crossing into the Moors kingdom just before nightfall. They stopped at an inn for the night, keeping their ears fruitlessly peeled for any hint of gossip. None could be heard that bore any importance for their quest.

The next morning’s travels brought about similar results. They crossed the small leg of the East Mountains and into Capetia at around noon. They stopped briefly at a tavern for food before moving on. The ride was boring, and Hook’s mind wandered as the horse trudged onward.

Just who had managed to get the best of the Crocodile? How had that happened? Would there even be anything of value at Rumplestiltskin’s old castle? Was all of this just Hook grasping at straws, unwilling to let a past wrong go, even after the culprit was long gone?

Hook didn’t think so, but he had been wrong before. He decided that the only way he was going to get answers was by raiding Rumplestiltskin’s castle. He could decide on the next course to set once he saw the state of things there.

They reached the edge of the Dark Forest that evening. He and Smee lit a fire for safety and camped under the stars. Neither spoke very much, for Hook was too deep in thought and Smee knew better than to push his Captain when the man was pensive like this. The night passed by uneventfully, and the next morning dawned bright.

A hard ride resulted in their arriving at the perimeter of the Dark One’s lands just after noon. They pulled their horses up short as they surveyed the imposing structure in the distance.

“So that’s the Dark One’s castle,” Smee muttered. “Do you think maybe he was compensating for something?”

Hook sniggered. “Most assuredly. We need to be cautious. If the rumors are false, and he is still alive, he won’t take kindly to seeing either of us.”

Smee nodded vigorously and they dismounted their horses. They tied the mounts off, leaving them plenty of slack to graze, and they slunk off in the direction of danger. They crept along in the surrounding woods, keeping their eyes peeled and their ears alert.

The woods were silent. It was eerie how no animals rustled in the undergrowth, how no birds tweeted in the trees above them. The closer they got to the castle, the quieter it got. Hook felt dizzy with how much he kept looking around them, just waiting for an ambush.

Finally they got close enough that the front doors were just in front of them. The castle had a derelict, abandoned feel. No smoke rose from the myriad chimneys; no movement could be detected behind the windows. The facade was covered in overrun ivies and weeds littered the overgrown lawn.

“Well, Captain, there might just be some truth to the rumors after all.”

Hook glanced at Smee. “It seems safe enough so far, but keep on your guard.”

Hook and Smee each grasped a door handle of the giant wooden doors and pulled with all their might, not noticing the wave of blue light that swept the yard as they did so. Slowly, creaking in protest the entire time, the doors gave away. Hook was just about to step inside the foyer when a fireball came soaring at them. Hook and Smee dove for the ground, managing to just narrowly avoid it. They watched as it flew into a tree and caught it on fire. The flames whooshed as it engulfed the large tree and devoured it until nothing but ash remained. They stared at it before looking at each other.

“Let’s hope that’s the only thing waiting for us,” Hook said. Smee chuckled nervously and they both scrambled up into standing positions. They glanced at the opening, but nothing else seemed to be waiting.

“Shall we try this again, sir,” Smee asked uncertainly.

Hook nodded once. “Without the fireballs, preferably.”

They crept through the arched doorway, sticking to the sides, but nothing else happened. The foyer beyond was dark and cold. It gave off a chilling air of abandonment. Hook and Smee exchanged looks.

“Shall we split up sir? Cover more ground that way,” Smee offered as he shrugged.

Hook considered his first mate for a moment, eyebrow tilting up a bit. On the one hand, splitting up could be a trap, but on the other, they waste valuable time searching together.

Hook nodded once. “Yell if you find anything.”

“Aye, aye,” replied Smee before heading to the rooms on the left. Hook decided to go up the grand staircase that lay in waiting just in front of him.

He walked up the steps one at a time, slowly prowling forward, always expecting another type of security measure. Nothing happened.

The lack of reaction set him on edge even more than he had been before entering the abandoned building. He expected Rumplestiltskin’s slimy high pitched giggle to sound behind him at any moment. As the minutes dragged on, he became even more unnerved at the lack of the coward’s appearance.

He stepped onto the next floor and looked around him. The second floor had the same derelict feel as the downstairs. There was no sign of anyone’s inhabitance. He crept forward, resting his palm in the jolt of his sword, keeping his hook at the ready. The first room he came to was some sort of guest room, but for whom, Hook couldn’t begin to say. He didn’t believe the Crocodile had many guests. The imp hadn’t been known for his hospitality, after all. He searched the room, but nothing was there besides tacky furniture and dusty bedclothes. Hook left the room as quickly as he entered it.

The silence in this place was eerie. It set his teeth on edge, and he clenched his jaw out of tension. He crept down the hallway, forgoing searching other countless bedchambers. The stench of Dark magic hung in the air, cloying and sickening. The further down the hall he traveled, the more palpable the magic became.

He went up another staircase, choosing to follow the feeling of the magic instead of investigating every room. Hook figured the odds of finding something were better if he traced the magic. He hadn’t felt this kind of sensation, this tingling numbness, since the Crocodile had been on the deck of his ship, changing Hook’s life forever.

He followed the tingle of the magic until he arrived in front of what appeared to be a private study. He opened the double doors and walked into a large room. A giant table occupied the center of the room, and display cases that had once held whatever objects Rumplestiltskin deemed important surrounded the table. The room had been decorated in rich shades of red and gold, but now a thick layer of dust covered everything.

The room looked as if it had been ransacked by looters at some undetermined point. Hook breathed a heavy sigh. This beyond anything else convinced him that the Crocodile was gone. Looters wouldn’t have been able to mauraud this castle if Rumplestiltskin had still been alive. Hook felt a dull sensation curdle in his stomach that he belatedly recognized was disappointment.

Discouraged, he wandered into the room, no less on his guard than before, but no longer expecting his mortal enemy to appear before him sniggering with twisted glee. He rummaged through the detritus, looking for something but not knowing what it was. After shuffling a few plates around, he saw a brown piece of fabric, dirtied with age and a few dried blood stains. He frowned and picked it up, his heart sinking even lower in his chest.

He knew those stitches.

He stood and shook the fabric out, using his hook to help fan it out to make sure that it was what he thought it was. He smiled a grim smile at the confirmation. It was a shawl. He recognized the handiwork as Milah’s, and he suddenly felt like crying. It must have belonged to Bae.

He swallowed and cleared his throat, hoping to drown the burning sensation, and rapidly tried to blink tears away. He folded it as carefully as he could, caressing the fabric as he did so. He took a step towards the door, intending to leave this room and all its ghosts behind, when he stepped on something that slid as he put his weight down.

Catching himself from falling, he looked at his feet and saw a cane. He moved his shoe off the wood and bent down to pick it up, recognizing it to be that old cane the Crocodile had once used to walk when the coward boarded his ship for the first time. He held it against the shawl that was also in his hand for a moment, considering all the possibilities that could have happened and didn’t, all the ways fate could have worked out differently for him.

Frustrated, he threw the cane away from him and turned to walk out. As he threw it, a shimmering came from the far corner of the room, catching his attention. The shimmering revealed a cabinet that extended from floor to ceiling. He stared in disbelief at it before his heart started racing. This was what he had been looking for!

He hurried to it and wrenched the doors open, seeing all kinds of magical items and whatnots. Books were stacked high in all areas, potion ingredients were stored three lines deep in bottles, with some already being completed. Magical objects filled the empty areas, and wands were held in stands. The magical items weren’t necessarily what he needed, but the books… the books might just be the missing link.

Hook tore through the books stacked high inside the cabinet, desperately searching for something that would help him piece together what had happened. He quickly discarded the ones that looked as if they were magical instruction books, having no interest in their contents. No, he was looking for something more personal.

Seeing nothing in the stack that could help him, he turned to the table, searching for any hidden compartments. Finding two, he tore open the drawers, the contents rattling as he jerked the drawers out, quills and empty ink bottles and other rubbish littering their insides. There was nothing that could even hint at the circumstances that finally resulted in the demon's demise.

He searched in this manner until he had combed through the entire room. If there had ever been any records, they had long since been hidden or destroyed. The fruitlessness of the search just made Hook more determined.

There had to be another room he had overlooked in this overgrown hunk of an imitation castle. Moving decisively towards the door, his hook got caught in a hole in a shelf of the cabinet in his haste. Hook yanked his hook out of the hole it had gotten lodged in, and the shelf came crashing, the contents falling to the floor in a great crash. Hook just managed to jump out of the way in time.

Hook scanned the rubbish, finding it absolutely ridiculous that Rumplestiltskin had never bothered to secure the blasted thing when it had borne all that weight when something caught his eye.

He scanned the back of the cabinet again, his brow furrowing in concentration. There! A glimmer!! He tilted his head this way and that as he tried to determine from where the glimmer had come. He noticed a notch from in between the wooden panels that covered the back of the shelf.

He put his hook into the notch, which was just big enough for the tip of his hook to lodge into, and pulled. The back panel was stubborn and didn’t come off. He sighed and maneuvered his hook deeper into the hole to provide himself with a bit more leverage. He wrapped his hand around his brace and pulled again, this time with all his strength.

The back panel came loose with a loud screech. It had detached just enough so he could see a small book inside. The cabinet must have had a false backing that only the crocodile would know about.

“Clever,” Hook muttered to himself as he reached in and clasped the book in his hand. Once he had pulled it out, he wiggled his hook out of the hole and set out to peruse the book. It had to contain something of importance if the Crocodile had gone to great lengths to keep it hidden.

He opened the book as he sank into a nearby chair that hadn’t toppled over in his haste to further ransack the room. Hook was pleased to find that it was a handwritten journal. He flipped through the pages slowly, finding a lot of drivel about magical experiments that didn’t interest Hook. Most of it was useless, but almost at the end of the journal, the writing changed. It was spiky, with very slanted words (a far different type of handwriting from Rumplestiltskin's scrawled handwriting).

The script made the document hard to read, so Hook skimmed the pages looking for any clues as to what had happened to the Crocodile (and most importantly, whom had killed him). He flipped through page after page, almost falling into a trance as he skimmed over the entry. Just when he thought the journal had nothing of importance, his eyes caught upon a very familiar name.

Milah.

Hook’s heart skipped a beat. He read the sentence that contained her name but found it didn’t make sense in the context, so he backtracked until he fell upon a section that seemed to detail why her name was on the page.

As he read the entry, his blood began to boil.

It had been easy enough to convince Rumplestiltskin that the only way to satisfy his broken heart upon learning his once beloved wife had fallen in love with someone else was to rip out her heart and crush it. With this, I believe that Rumplestiltskin’s last dregs of humanity have been thoroughly eradicated. I have been successful in imprinting myself irrevocably within his soul. With his black heart now thoroughly darkened, he will have no hope of the use of Light Magic against me, that cursed abomination of a magical force.

I had thought seeing him abandon and break a deal with his son was the ultimate test of his loyalty to me, but his murder of Milah showed me the depths of depravity he is willing to sink to. It will be so much easier to twist and bend Rumplestiltskin’s actions to my will. It was amusing to see how little he resisted the urge once I placed the thought in his head to kill her. He almost seemed to welcome it.

I think the coward enjoyed the thrill of the power I wield over life. He will be much more pliant to fulfilling my desires, I think. After all, he will not want to give up the control over the magic I have given him easily. This just serves as further proof that humanity is corruptible and unworthy of the gifts they have been bestowed. They will all bow to me before it is over. I must make my own plans for that day. This vessel will not be able to support me for very long, and the time will eventually come to find another host.

Hook continued to read, but the rest of the passage detailed how it felt to crush a heart and the magic that had to go into the action. He felt sick the more he tried to read, and he closed the book in disgust. His heart lay in jagged pieces at his feet at the information he had sought and obtained.

Rumplestiltskin had merely been a pawn in Milah’s death. Oh, Hook didn’t doubt that Rumplestiltskin desired her death; by the end, the man had looked upon his estranged wife with hatred in his eyes. But to learn that Hook’s love had been killed because some demon had wanted it done to prove a point? That was like rubbing salt in an already festering and infected wound.

Hook grit his teeth. He snatched the journal up and tucked it into one of the hidden pockets in his leather duster. His revenge was still possible. All he had to do was find the demon that killed her and find a way to end its existence.

He threw open the door, hollering for Smee. His first mate came running.

“Tell me you’ve found something of value in this place,” Hook commanded.

Smee held up a dreamcatcher. “I found this. I think it could tell us who the next Dark One is!”

“What is it?” Hook asked, puzzled as to how such an object would be able to tell them anything.

“I don’t know what it’s called, but when I held it, I could see something. I think it might hold memories.” Smee held it out to his captain.

Hook took it in his hand, and once he touched it, images started to play out amongst the strings. It did look like memories. He watched as a pretty young girl, possibly mid to late twenties, approached the Dark One. Rumplestiltskin giggled, dismissing her, when she held out the dagger. He watched dispassionately as Rumple froze in disbelief. He watched the woman say something and then plunge the knife into Rumplestiltskin’s chest. He watched as oily tendrils of darkness began to ooze out of Rumpelstiltskin, making their way up the woman’s arms until it coated her in the substance. She disappeared, the knife disappearing along with her. Rumplestiltskin fell to the ground of his castle, obviously dead.

“Where did she disappear to?” Hook asked once the memories went black and the images reverted back to the strings once more.

“I don’t know, Captain. But I found this with it,” Smee said as he held up a giant black feather.

Hook took it, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Perhaps we can use this to find out.”

He turned and made his way back into the study where he had found the stash of potions. He went to the box and scanned its contents, pulling out a bottle once he had found what he was looking for. He uncorked it, Smee looking on, and poured its contents over the feather.

“Is that a locator spell?” Smee asked.

“I think so. It’s some kind of potion for it, at any rate.” He watched as the feather floated in the air before darting towards a ragged map of the Enchanted Forest that hung on the wall. It gouged itself into the map, and Hook and Smee hurried across the room to see where it was pointing.

“The North Mountains?” Smee read aloud.

“Aye,” Hook agreed. “That is our next destination. We must return to the ship at once.”

Smee nodded, and after a brief moment to figure out the exact location on the map the feather pointed to, the two men left the Dark One’s castle, never to step foot inside again.

After several days’ journey of riding hard and resting only when needed, Hook and Smee arrived back in the port town they had left the Jolly Roger moored at. After a quick replenishment of supplies, she set sail once more, this time to a village called Sapphire Springs in the Northern Kingdom.

Hartford was a quaint little village that had little to offer pirate crews, so Hook and his band rarely made port there. It was out of the way of the major shipping lanes, as it was the most remote village of the Northern Kingdom. Hook preferred doing most of his business at Glowerhaven and other larger ports where it was easier to blend in with the locals and visitors, but he had been to Sapphire Springs enough to know the lay of the land.

Hook and his crew sailed hard, avoiding most traffic in the shipping lanes. They stumbled upon a ship from Agrabah, and Hook gave the order to take it. He knew his crew would appreciate the opportunity to acquire jewels and riches when they hadn’t yet been able to take any ships since their permanent arrival back in the Enchanted Forest. The crew of the merchant ship were very amenable to surrender, and after a couple of hours, the Jolly Roger rode deeper in the water, her hull full of spices and jewels and Agrabahn wine. Hook allowed them to open a barrel, and the evening was spent toasting their success.

They made a quick stop at a port in Sherwood Forest to sell off the jewels and spices. Smee divided the spoils to the rest of the crew after selling off their wares. The crew didn’t dally long; Hook was in too much of a hurry to make it to the North Mountains to spend much time in port.

After selling off this particular haul, they set sail once more, making a beeline straight for Sappire Springs. Hook stood back, letting his crew do the sailing and navigating as they had been for centuries. He kept his eyes trained on the horizon as he came ever closer to fulfilling his destiny and achieving his happy ending (however miserable an end it may be). If he had any doubts about the dangers that lay before him, he didn’t express it.

Hook continued his vigilance until the sky turned to dusk and the night crew took over. He looked out over the water at the waves, felt the breeze on his face, and heaved a sigh. He turned and slid open the hatch to his cabin and descended the ladder, not noticing the giant black swan that swooped down from the clouds and glided over the ship for a brief moment before ascending once more into the clouds.

#cssns 2023 #cssns23 #fly with the black swan #anmylica writes #CS fic rec #such a talented shipmate 💕💖💕

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caught-in-the-filter · 2 years ago

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CSSNS 2023 - @cssns

She's dead. He's undead. They're making it work.

#captain swan #cssns #captain swan supernatural summer #cssns23 #vampire!killian #idk y'all. I saw the skeleton bride photo and the spooky cake and haunted bedroom.#and I love vampire!killian. so. they're getting married and we'll pretend it's a late 90s early 2000s romcom tagline or something.#kayla's art #kayla's aesthetics #cs aesthetics #kayla's cs aesthetics #what even are my tags for these anymore. it's been a while.

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jrob64 · 2 years ago

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Saying Goodbye and Moving On

An OUAT Canon Divergent fix-it fic

Here is my entry for CSSNS 2023, which was written to fix what I thought was a grievous wrong in the show. All of you need to know that I wanted to make @kmomof4 a co-author because she did so much to help me with this story, but she refused. Several tragic things were happening in my life while I was writing this story and she talked me through it - giving me ideas for the plot, encouraging me to keep going, checking it over when it was incredibly full of errors or didn't make sense, and just generally being the best friend and supporter I needed in order to finish it. On top of that, she created the gorgeous pic set you see at the top, with some manip help from @motherkatereloyshipper. Thank you so much, ladies! I love it!

Many thanks to @hookedmom who was my official beta once again.

SUMMARY: Killian has returned to Emma from the Underworld and they are starting to build their future together, when a ghost from his past suddenly appears, giving them the opportunity to right a few wrongs.

CHAPTER 1/1 - 5230 words

RATING: T

ALSO on Ao3 (I'm unable to post to ffn at this time)

*********

Storybrooke was peaceful for perhaps the first time since Emma Swan crashed into the town sign three years ago. The Underworld saga was behind them, Killian had returned in dramatic fashion, and no new villain had shown up in town…yet. Emma knew it was only a matter of time, but she was going to enjoy the calm after the multiple storms for as long as she could.

Gold was the Dark One again after negating Killian’s sacrifice, but he secluded himself in his Pawn Shop. Emma figured he was avoiding everyone in town because they were furious over him not letting go of the dark power. Even though Emma knew the Dark One couldn’t be killed, she wasn’t above putting a bullet in him for something as minor as jaywalking, given the opportunity. She could never forgive him for what he did to the man she loved.

Right now, that man was alive and well beside her, his arm flung over her hip and snoring softly in her ear. It had been nearly two months since he returned and she was still hesitant to let him out of her sight. The first few nights after his return, both of them were desperate to reacquaint themselves with the other’s body. Gradually, as the realization grew that Killian was truly back and nothing was going to threaten their blissful happiness, their lovemaking grew gentler and less frantic, but no less meaningful. Now, after their bodies were sated, they’d lay in each other’s arms talking softly before they drifted off to sleep, content in the fact that nothing would pull them away from one another again.

*********

Killian awoke with a jolt, heart thundering in his chest and breath coming in sharp gasps. Sitting up quickly, he closed his eyes, tilting his head back while he concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths to calm himself, hoping he wouldn’t wake Emma. When his heart rate slowed down a bit, he opened his eyes and the blood in his veins froze.

He rubbed his eyes furiously, then cautiously opened them again. The image hadn’t disappeared. Hovering hazily in front of him was…

“Milah?” he choked out.

The specter’s pale eyes brightened and a slight smile crossed her face. Drifting closer, she opened her mouth to speak…

“Killian?”

Immediately, the ghostly figure disappeared. Killian blinked rapidly as he felt Emma’s hand on his back.

“Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up beside him.

“Oh, uh…aye,” he managed to say, still trying to get over the shock of seeing what was obviously the ghost of his former lover.

“Are you sure? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

His head jerked around, searching her eyes to determine if she realized the accuracy of her statement. All he could see was concern in the green depths. “Aye, Love, I just…I’m having some trouble sleeping and I don’t…I don’t want to keep you awake, so…uh…I think I’ll spend the rest of the night on the Jolly, if you don’t mind,” he stammered.

A wounded look crossed her face so quickly, he wasn’t even sure he saw it. She schooled her features carefully before replying, “If you’re having nightmares, I can help you through them. You don’t have to handle them yourself, you know.”

He wiped a hand down his face. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt this woman who sacrificed so much to bring him home. He loved her more than he could express and owed her his very life. But after seeing the vision of Milah, he knew he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep that night and he didn’t know how to explain what had happened.

“I know, Love. I just…I think I need some fresh air.” Enfolding her in his arms, he rubbed her back soothingly. “I’m not pulling away from you, I promise. I’ll meet you at Granny’s tomorrow for breakfast, aye?”

“Yeah, okay,” she mumbled into his chest. “Call me when you get to the Jolly?”

“Of course.” He got out of bed and began putting on his clothes, feeling her eyes on him the entire time. When he finished, he turned back to see her still sitting up, the sheet wrapped around her. Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, he reached over to brush some wispy strands of hair away from her face. “Get some sleep, Darling. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She leaned in to kiss him, pressing her forehead to his for a brief moment afterwards. “Be careful on your way to the docks.”

“I will. Goodnight, Love.” After brushing her lips with his once more, he stood and began walking toward the doorway.

“Killian?” she called softly.

He turned. “Aye?”

“I love you.”

He couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face. “I love you, too, Swan.”

*********

On his way to his ship, Killian searched the skies for any sign of Milah’s apparition. He was torn about whether he wanted to see her ghostly image again. On the one hand, he was curious why she was here and wanted to talk with her to get some answers. Conversely, he was ready to move on with his life and his True Love.

He made it to the Jolly without any sign of the specter, but upon entering his quarters, he was met with the sight of her hovering over his bunk, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

“Milah!” he gasped. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Her eyes widened in horror as she continued to try, with no success.

“You can’t talk?” he questioned. She shook her head sadly, and seemed to shrink in on herself, floating toward the ceiling. “No! Don’t go!” he cried. “Please…stay.” He held out his hand in invitation, knowing she wouldn’t be able to physically take it.

Her eyes softened, her distress easing as she settled back down to eye level with him.

“But you can hear me, can’t you?” he asked, needing to clarify their connection.

She nodded and made a hand gesture urging him to continue speaking.

He sat in his desk chair and swiveled it to fully face her. “I don’t know how you’re here, but…I’m glad you are.” His comment made her smile. “Emma, she…she told me the two of you met in the Underworld, and that you helped her get to me when Hades had me chained up over the River of Lost Souls.”

Milah nodded again, giving him a small, tight smile.

“I’m truly sorry Hades threw you into that river before I had a chance to say goodbye.”

Anger flashed across Milah’s face and she shook her head vehemently.

“What is it, Milah?” He watched her making motions with her hands, pantomiming pulling her heart out of her chest. “Hades tore your heart out? No, that wouldn’t make sense because you were already…” He stopped short, unable to bring himself to say the last word.

Milah continued to make gestures showing her heart being crushed, then pointed to Killian’s hook.

Suddenly, understanding dawned on him. “The crocodile?” he asked incredulously. She nodded vigorously and he could feel the rage rising in him. “Was he the one who pushed you into the River of Lost Souls?” At Milah’s emphatic nod, he angrily jumped to his feet. “Not only did he take you from me the first time, he also doomed you to eternal torment and deprived me of a chance to give you a proper farewell! And now he’s the bloody Dark One again! Bloody fucking hell!” He spun in a circle, wanting to throw or hit something.

The specter of his first love drifted closer and reached out to stroke her palm over his cheek. He felt a cool sensation where her ghostly hand brushed past him, calming him instantly. He sat down on his bunk and she moved over to him, sadness mixed with compassion coloring her translucent features. “I’m so sorry, Love. I should have killed him long ago to avenge your…death. I never figured out a way to do it since the Dark One is immortal, and then I met Emma and I…I chose her over my quest for vengeance. I failed you, Milah…”

She brought her finger to her lip and shook her head to silence him. Then she placed her hand over her heart, before moving it to cover his heart. He understood her meaning and his shoulders sagged in relief. “Thank you, Love. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m very happy to have it.” He smiled gently at her for a moment before a startling realization came to him. “Milah,” he said, confusion infusing his words. “How… how are you here?” He stood quickly, not knowing what to think. Could he still be dreaming? Milah shouldn’t be here. She couldn’t be here. This had to be a trick of some kind. Was Gold behind it? Had Hades found some way to return?

Alarmed recognition crossed her face and she reached for him. He stumbled back away from her and she made no further move toward him. In an effort to help him understand, she placed both hands on either side of her head, fingers pointed straight up. She moved them up and down in short, sharp movements that reminded Killian of Hades when his hair erupted into blue flames.

“Hades?” he asked tentatively.

She nodded furiously, her face lighting up with his understanding of her motions. She drew a single finger across her neck in a motion he had no trouble interpreting.

“He’s gone forever, right?” Killian asked. When she continued nodding, Killian felt excitement and hope rise within him. “When he was vanquished, was your soul released from the river?” It was more than he could possibly hope for, but her joyous visage and nod confirmed his speculation. Relief completely enveloped him and he moved closer to her, holding his hand out again. This time, she reached out for him as well. He felt a chill that somehow felt warm at the same time as her hand passed through his. “Oh, Milah,” he breathed. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”

Milah smiled gently at him then floated over to his bed and patted the space beside her. He sat down and saw her gesture for him to talk. Taking a deep breath, he launched into the tale of his life after losing her.

*********

Emma was unable to go back to sleep after Killian left. He’d had plenty of time to make it to his ship, yet he hadn’t called her as promised. She was well aware he would have a lot to work through after everything he’d experienced. Becoming the Dark One, dying and going to the Underworld, being tortured by Hades, reuniting with his brother Liam, only to have to say goodbye to him again, not to mention being separated from his True Love, before being sent back to the land of the living by Zeus.

She was willing to give him all the time he needed, but tonight, something was amiss. She could sense there was more to his abrupt departure than simply a desire to get some fresh air. His eyes were…haunted, fearful. She couldn’t help but wonder what he wasn’t telling her.

Sighing heavily, she shoved back the covers and got out of bed. Something was troubling the man she loved and she was determined to help him through it.

*********

Emma drove slowly through the streets of Storybrooke, scanning every street and alley, but didn’t catch sight of Killian. Parking at the docks, she was relieved to see his ship was still in the usual berth. She hadn’t thought he would take the Jolly Roger out to sea this late at night, but she knew how sailing calmed him, so she wouldn’t have been surprised to find the space empty.

Killian wasn’t on the deck, gazing at the stars - another activity that always brought him peace. Emma quickly crossed the polished surface, descended the steps taking her below deck, and walked down the narrow hallway, stopping outside the captain’s quarters. As she reached for the door handle, she heard Killian’s voice and paused. It sounded like he was carrying on a conversation with someone. She didn’t want to invade his privacy, but curiosity won out and, in spite of herself, she listened.

“...that’s when I found out Bae had a child with Emma - a boy named Henry. Yes, I know. It came as quite a shock to me, as well. By that time, I was already intrigued by Emma, and also very attracted to her. I hope you don’t mind me talking about her. She’s my True Love and I owe her so much. She’s the one who made me want to give up my fruitless quest for revenge in order to be someone worthy of her love.”

Emma took a step closer to the door, hoping to hear the other person to identify him…or her. Her mind raced as she waited. Nearly everyone in town knew that Henry was Neal’s son, so who could it be?

“I wish you could meet Henry. He’s a wonderful lad - intelligent, kind and brave. Bae would be so proud of him.” There was a long pause before Killian resumed. “He, uh, he died trying to warn the town about a villain. He visited Emma before she went to the Underworld and told her he was in a place where he was happy. Perhaps you’ll be able to take care of your unfinished business and join him there.”

Emma’s brows furrowed. He was talking to someone with unfinished business? Someone who might be able to join Neal, which would mean they were dead…

Suddenly, it dawned on her who it had to be, but how was it possible? Milah had been thrown into the River of Lost Souls. There was no way she could be here talking to Killian. Emma’s mind swirled with doubts. Maybe he needed someone to talk to and couldn’t trust her, so he was talking to the memory of Milah instead.

Unable to quiet the negative voices in her head, Emma grasped the door handle, and after a brief moment of hesitation, pushed inside the cabin.

Killian looked up when he heard her enter, his startled look turning to one of chagrin. “Swan? What are you doing here?”

“I…I was worried when you didn’t call,” she said, looking around the room and seeing no one. “Killian, who were you talking to?”

Killian glanced beside him, where Milah still hovered. “I was…” Turning his eyes back to Emma, he asked, “Can’t you see her, Emma?”

Emma’s brows furrowed. “The only person I see here is you. Were you…it sounded like you were talking to…to Milah.”

He stood, casting a quick look at his first love, then moving to stand in front of his True Love. “Aye, Love. Milah is here, in this room. Her spirit is, at least. She appeared to me in your bedroom and that’s why I left so abruptly. When I reached the Jolly, I found her here, too. I don’t understand why I can see her and you can’t.”

Emma closed her eyes, her heart pounding. If he was telling her the truth - and her lie detector was silent, confirming his words - then Milah was haunting him, no matter where he went. How was she supposed to deal with that?

Tilting her head, she sensed something different about the atmosphere in the room. Breathing in deeply, she caught a whiff of…

“Killian, did Milah smell of lilacs?” she asked, her eyes opening to focus on him. A shocked expression crossed his face.

“Aye, Love. She…she always wore lilac water. I purchased it for her every chance I got. How did you know that?”

“I can smell it, and I feel a…a presence. Can she talk?”

Sadness filled his eyes. “No, she can hear me, but she can’t speak. She has been able to communicate, though. She…she told me it was Gold who threw her into the River of Lost Souls and that she was released when Hades was defeated.”

“Gold did that to her?” Emma spat. “That bastard! I’m already furious over what he did to you and this just adds fuel to the fire! Dark One or not, someday he’s going to pay for all the evil things he’s done, and I, for one, am not going to be sorry about it!”

Killian stepped forward to squeeze her hand, his eyes flicking up behind her. “I think Milah likes you, Love,” he grinned.

“Why do you say that?”

“She’s right behind you, smiling and clapping her hands.”

Emma’s cheeks reddened. “We got to know each other a bit in the Underworld. I liked her, too.” She looked thoughtful. “There has to be some way to allow her to talk to us. Remember when we used that double-ended candle to try to talk to Cora?”

“Aye, but the candle had to be lit over a person’s heart before they were killed in order to use it to communicate with that person’s spirit,” Killian reminded her.

Emma sighed. “That’s right, I’d forgotten that detail.” She chewed on her lip in thought, before speaking again. “I’ll go talk to Regina. There has to be a way.” She pulled her hand out of his and turned toward the door.

He caught her arm with his hook. “Perhaps you should wait until morning, Darling. I doubt the queen will be very amenable to helping us if you wake her in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot what time it is,” she admitted. “I, um, I guess I’ll just go home for a few hours, then. Are you…will you stay here?”

Killian glanced to his right before answering. “I still have a lot I want to share with Milah and I don’t know how long she’ll be able to stay here. I hope you don’t mind.”

Emma gave him a weak smile. “No, I understand. Do you want to come with me to talk to Regina in the morning?”

“Aye, Love.” He pulled her into his embrace. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Okay, I’ll come by and pick you up around seven,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

He put enough distance between them to be able to cup her chin in his hand. “Be careful going home, my love.”

“I will.” Leaning up to whisper in his ear, she asked, “Do you think she would mind if I kissed you?”

He gave a low chuckle. “I’m sure she won’t. She knows we’re True Love.”

She combed her fingers through the hair above his ear. “This is a weird situation, you know that, right?”

He nodded with a lopsided grin and leaned in to share a lingering kiss with her.

“See you in the morning,” she said when it ended, then added, a bit louder, “Goodbye, Milah.” After brushing his cheek with her lips one more time, she turned and left the cabin.

*********

Once Regina heard Emma and Killian relate the events from overnight, she sat behind her desk in the mayor’s office pursing her lips in thought.

“Can you explain why Killian is able to see her, but I can’t?” Emma asked.

“I’m not sure, but my guess would be it’s because Killian is Milah’s unfinished business,” Regina stated.

“That makes sense,” Emma agreed. “I can feel her presence, though.”

“Have you any ideas for how to talk to her?” Killian inquired.

Regina considered for a moment. “Using the enchanted candle to talk to her definitely isn’t an option. The phone booth in the Underworld was a way for the dead to communicate with the living, but we don’t have anything like that here. You obviously don’t want me to ask Gold for help, or Belle for that matter.”

“Absolutely not,” Emma said emphatically.

“We don’t want the crocodile to know that Milah has made an appearance,” Killian added angrily. “If I had my way, I’d send the bloody bastard back to the Underworld, never to return. Hades wasn’t the one who threw Milah into the River of Lost Souls. It was Gold. He needs to pay for what he did. It wasn’t enough for him to kill her in front of me in the first place, but he had to sentence her to eternal torment, as well.”

Regina’s eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t know all the details of what happened between Rumplestiltskin and Killian Jones, but she could certainly understand Killian’s anger and wanting to make sure ‘the crocodile’ paid for what he’d done. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about Gold. If you recall, he’s the Dark One and can’t be killed, no matter how much all of us would like to see it happen. Now, let’s focus on the problem of how to communicate with Milah. Do you have any idea how long she will be haunting you, Hook?”

Killian shook his head sadly. “No, but I have a feeling it won’t be very long. From the first time I saw her until she left this morning, her form had already faded substantially.”

“Hmm, I wonder,” Regina said, walking around the front of her desk and crossing her arms. “I know she probably didn’t come through a portal from the Underworld to get here, but I wonder if being close to one will give her more strength and help her be able to speak.”

“You mean the one in the duck pond?” Emma asked.

“Do you know of any other?” Regina snapped, her sarcasm in full force.

Emma chose to ignore her snark. “I think it would be worth a try to see if she’ll join you there, wouldn’t it, Killian?” At his nod of affirmation, she added. “How would you feel about Henry being there? If Milah is able to speak, he would get to talk to his grandmother.”

“I think that’s a grand idea, Love. I told her about him and what an exceptional lad he is, and I’m sure she would appreciate the chance to see for herself.”

“Is that alright, Regina?” Emma asked.

“Of course. I don’t think he would find meeting the spirit of his grandmother any more disconcerting than any other adventure he’s experienced since he brought you to town. He planned to spend the day at my house playing video games. I’ll pick him up and meet the two of you at the pond.”

“Do you think Milah will find you there, Killian?”

“She found me at your house and on my ship, Love.”

“Good point. Well, let’s see if this works,” Emma said, taking his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze before they headed out the door.

*********

Returning to the place where Emma was forced to run Excalibur through Killian was difficult for the couple. As they drew near the exact spot where it happened, Killian heard her breath hitch and he tightened his grip on her hand.

Regina and Henry arrived a few minutes later and joined them at the edge of the duck pond.

“Mom says Grandma Milah appeared to you, Killian,” Henry said excitedly. “Is she here now?”

“Not yet, lad,” Killian said.

“We’re not sure she will be, Henry,” Emma said.

“Yeah, Mom explained that to me. She also said Grandma can’t speak, but I’m still glad you wanted me to be here.”

They waited for several minutes, as Killian scanned the skies for any sign of Milah’s ghost. The only sounds heard were the birds in the trees and the occasional quack of a duck swimming past, until Killian declared softly, “She’s here, right over the center of the pond.”

“I was going to ask if she was,” Emma said. “I thought I felt her presence.”

“There is definitely a stirring in the atmosphere,” Regina remarked.

“Is she trying to say anything?” Henry asked.

“No,” Killian answered, “she’s just watching us.” Suddenly, the water in the pond began rippling as a breeze blew across it. “Hello again, Milah. Someone is here to meet you.” He stepped over behind Henry, putting his hand and hook on the boy’s shoulders. “This is Henry, Baelfire’s son.”

“Hi, Grandma,” Henry said, his eyes darting back and forth across the sky. “It’s nice to…kind of…meet you.”

“She’s smiling at you, lad,” Killian assured him.

“I wish I could see you. Were you the one who churned up the water?” Henry asked. In response, a stronger breeze blew, causing small waves to form in the duck pond. “That’s a cool trick, Grandma!” he laughed.

A chilly wind swept past the group, rustling the leaves on the trees. “Is Milah doing that, too?” Emma whispered.

“Aye,” Killian answered, his eyes following the movement of the specter only he could see. “Something seems to be distressing her.”

“I think I see the source of her agitation,” Regina remarked, her brow furrowing in concern. “Here comes Gold. He must have sensed a supernatural disturbance, too.”

The man came stumping up the path, slowing as he took in the scene before him. Seeing the group assembled by the pond, he asked, “What are you all doing here? Are you trying to cast some sort of…” His words came to a stop as his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in surprise. “M-Milah?”

Another rush of cold air swept past them, strong enough this time to shake the tree branches and increase the turbulence of the water. “Seeing him has made her extremely angry,” Killian explained.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Regina remarked.

The wind kicked up even more, causing dust and debris to swirl around them. It seemed to center on Gold, making him duck down and cover his head. “Get away from me, you vile woman!” he screamed. “You’re supposed to be in the River of Lost Souls!” At his confession, the wind picked him up bodily and slammed him to the ground, stunning him as he hit his head on a rock.

“And YOU’RE the one who threw her into it!” Killian shouted.

Gold raised his hand to his head, wiping at the blood over his brow. Suddenly, it was if something grabbed him by the ankles and began dragging him toward the pond. “NO! NO!” he screeched, attempting to crawl back up the path.

“Grandpa!” Henry yelled.

There was a loud whooshing sound and they turned to see a vortex rising up out of the water, the force of it beginning to pull Gold toward it. He continued to scream his protests, his fingers scrabbling in the dirt as he was dragged backwards. They watched incredulously as he flew past them, too quickly to even attempt to grab him.

He was caught up in the vortex, which spun across the surface of the pond. Emma gasped as she spotted something moving behind the trees. “It’s Charon’s boat! Why is it here?”

“Gold is tethered to the Underworld through his blood,” Regina explained, shouting to be heard over the tumult. “The blood from the gash on his head must have gotten into the water and summoned Charon.”

The four people on shore watched the furiously swirling waterspout until it reached the boat, where it suddenly disappeared, depositing the helpless Dark One in a heap in the middle of the vessel.

Gold’s blood curdling screams echoed through the air as Charon guided the boat toward the portal to the Underworld. The moment it passed from view, his cries were silenced and they knew he was gone.

“Look!” Henry cried, pointing at the sky.

Emma, Killian and Regina turned to see a black vapor in the shape of the Dark One’s dagger hanging over the pond. As they watched, it dissipated, completely disappearing within seconds. “Does that mean what I think it means? What I hope it means?” Emma asked.

“No more Dark One? The Darkness is gone forever?” Regina questioned, turning back towards the others.

“Yes, that’s exactly what it means and now I can finally be free,” a serene voice said from behind them.

“Milah!” Killian gasped. “You can speak!”

“Rumple silenced me when he threw me into the river,” she explained. “Now that he’s gone, he has no power over me, or anyone else, for that matter.”

“I’m sorry you lost your grandfather like that, kid,” Emma said, putting her arm around Henry’s shoulders to comfort him.

“Yeah, me too, but he had a lot of chances to give up the power of being the Dark One and he never did. He loved power more than he loved me, Belle, and even my dad, so I guess he deserved what he got.”

Killian patted him on the back, then looked at the specter hovering in front of them. “You did it, Milah. Everything he ever did to us has now been avenged,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“Yes, it has,” Milah said, her voice sounding much thinner. “My time here is drawing to a close, so I have to say my goodbyes.” Killian watched as a wide smile spread on her lips. “I can see Killian was right when he told me how special you are, Henry. I just wish I had more time with you. When I move on, I will tell your father what a fine young man you became.”

“Tell him…tell him I miss him,” Henry said.

“I will,” she promised.

Emma stepped up beside Killian and stretched up to kiss his cheek.“We’ll give you a chance to say goodbye,” she whispered. “I’ll be home if you want to come by afterwards.”

He nodded and watched her walk away with Henry and Regina. Turning back to Milah, he saw her translucent form was fading quickly. “I’m very happy I got the opportunity to bid you a proper goodbye, Love.”

“So am I. Oh, my love, I’m glad we were able to have so many wonderful adventures together.” Her voice grew so faint, he had to listen intently to hear her. “ Emma is good for you, Killian. It’s wonderful that you’ve found love again and you’re finally moving on. I can see that you’re really happy.” She paused for a moment, then- if it was possible for a ghost- she sighed. “I’m your past and she’s your future.”

“You’ll always have a place in my heart, Milah. You were my first love.”

“Yes, and I will always love you, but Emma is your True Love. You deserve happiness with her.”

“And you deserve peace. I hope you find it.”

“Now that all of my unfinished business has been taken care of, I’m sure I will.” Swooping down, she brushed her nearly invisible fingers across his cheek. “I must go now. Goodbye, my love.”

“Goodbye, Milah.”

He stood transfixed, staring at the sky for several minutes after her form disappeared. The sadness he had carried in his heart for so long over the loss of Milah, was replaced with relief and joy.

Finally, he turned and began walking back to town, where he knew he would find Emma waiting.

He saw her sitting on the steps of her house when he stopped in front of the gate. Looking up at him, a warm smile crossed her face, and he returned it with one of his own. Stepping through the opening, he moved toward his future.

*********

Was I the only one who thought Gold should have been held accountable for what he did to Milah? Or that Killian should have had the chance to say goodbye to his first love? Please let me know how you felt about it.

Special thanks to the people who have held the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer event for many years now. It's always a lot of fun!

And thanks to all of you for reading, commenting and reblogging!

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#csff #cssns23 #captain swan supernatural summer #saying goodbye and moving on #jrob64 #art by krystal #manip by motherkat #canon divergent #fix it fic #ouat fanfic #ghost story #milah gets justice #rumple gets what he deserves #one shot

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Rules: Go to your published works on Ao3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of- for whatever reason.

@kmomof4 tagged me in this - Thanks Krystal! (Sorry it took me so long to answer! ;p

First fic: "Start of the Dance" is the first one I posted on A03. Before that I was happily posting away in the Criminal Minds and Castle fandom on ff.net for ages - back before I even discovered Tumblr! Krystal though, convinced me to go over to A03 and create an account, largely to join the first-ever @cssns event, so I did. This one was one of my earliest CS one shots, and it ended up getting posted even before I posted the event fic I created the account for. I wrote a LOT of fic at the end of season three/ahead of season four, and this was one of my favorites from that span of time.

Last fic: I can almost guarantee it won't be literally my "last" fic, but the current last fic on my A03 dashboard is "Carolina Moon" my Nora Roberts inspired AU from the 2023 @cssns. It's still ongoing, and I promise more is coming soon! I'm not purposefully leaving you waiting.

Only Once: So, I discovered when I went to answer this one that most of the ships or fandoms I only wrote for once stayed over on my ff.net profile. The best I can do with one that has transferred over to AO3 is my @cssns18 one shot "Tasting Forever". This fic is still one of my favorites and has gotten more reviews and comments than almost anything else I've ever posted. It leans very heavily on the plot and characters of another show called Moonlight, and I seriously put Killian, Emma, and the other OuaT characters into the roles from that show, then made my own spin on the idea. I do have one other Moonlight fic, but apparently, I have never migrated it over to A03. It's called "Forever Waiting" - and I would love to have you read it - but you'll have to read it on ff.net until I make that correction! I also have a little one shot from the LotR fandom. (Not that I would ever think to change or tinker with Tolkien, but it's a little moment he didn't write between Merry and Eomer, at Theoden's graveside.) You can find it here "Simbelmyne" - clearly I still need to move all the older stuff to A03.

Favorite fic for the fandom I've written in most: That is a REALLY hard question, Krystal!! What are you doing to me?!?Okay, for reals, I will try.... (Well, I've got a top three - for now - at least)

I've always been partial to this one shot written between 3a and 3b (I even managed to squeeze Graham into it: "Ghost of Christmases Past" I am really proud of this short MC that I set in the Victorian time period and tried to make darker and more mysterious than my usual story. It was originally for the @csrolereversal fic and art event, and I had so much fun working on it, and surprising my usual readers with its tone/vibe: "The Case of the Heart in Armor" And I still love my werewolf AU MC I wrote for the first @cssns Many people have done much better and more amazing werewolf fics since, but I had wanted to try it for ages, I had some much fun doing it, and it still is a favorite for me: "Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)"

The fic I wish more people read: I am so grateful for any kudos or comment I get, but I have always wanted these to one shots to get more views and comments: "Moonlit Ghosts" and "Got My Angel Now" And I was always particularly proud of my short MC "Villain's Happy Ending" and want to tell more people to check it out and let me know what they think of it. Lastly, though I know the main pairing is Liam x Belle and so it probably never will, I always want to have people read "Looking for a Heart (that's not Walking Away)" I loved letting characters like Belle and Henry really shine, and exploring more of what Liam would have been like if we saw more of him. I loved writing it and was really proud of how it turned out, but I don't know that many people have read it.

The fic I agonized over the most: Sheesh, that's a hard one. The sensible answer would probably be my last year's @cssns22 fic "Believing Impossible Things" (since it still isn't done - I really do apologize!) But probably any of the ones where I attempted real love scenes (smut) in them. That tends to make me more than a bit anxious and to worry over each little sentence and word.

I also agonized a lot over my Music Man AU "Foot Caught in the Door (This Time)" for @captainswanmoviemarathon (Probably why it still only has one chapter ;p ) People were so kind and generous in their feedback and excitement for it, but I psyched myself out, because I love the musical so much and worry about doing it justice!

The fic that sprang fully formed from my mind without any effort: I can't really say that this ever happens for me. Not the whole fic, completely formed. Usually a certain scene comes to me - and it might be very vivid and complete - but then I have to come up with the rest of the story where it belongs!

A fic that I'm proud of, for whatever reason: 😘 It was hard to think of something that I hadn't already mentioned above, but I am quite proud of my one shot collection "Of Swans and Swords and Hopeful Hearts" - now 50 some stories strong. It's a good compendium of the sort of stories I write, the show arcs I most love, and the characters I really like to give a little more missing moments. A lot of those stories did just what I set out for them to do, and they take me back to that particular phase of the show, watching for the first time, and what I was feeling and wondering.

#fandom tag game #fic writier tag game #tag game answers #snowbellewells tag game answers

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smpnegeri1pamekasan · 2 years ago

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Kemenangan adalah sesuatu yang paling manis ketika kamu sudah tahu kekalahan.

Alhamdulillah Selamat dan Sukses kepada Ananda : AMIRA MUBAROK atas prestasi yang diraih dalam ajang competition Science Sosial National (CSSN) Tingkat SMA/MA sederajat yang diselenggarakan oleh LIGA SCIENCE SOSIAL NASIONAL (LSSN) 2023.

#spansahebat #spansakeren #spansaselamanya #timkreatifspansa

#school #teacher #study motivation #school system #studying #academia #student life

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motherkatereloyshipper · 2 years ago

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Firstly, you should read this story, it will blow your mind, @kmomof4 knocking it out if the park as usual.

This is the first time I have 'arted' for an event and it's been an odd but lovely experience (the image is made with a combination of picsart, canva and gimp).

I used the background from the original poster and replaced the font into the title, I loved working with Krystal to decode who should be in the image, and how prominent they should be.

Endlessly grateful to how many creepy murderers MRJ has played so there was a good analogue for the Keifer Sutherland staring dead into the camera face.

Thank you Krystal, for bullying me into this, for encouraging me to work on my manips and for letting me make art for your amazing fic!

Happy CSSNS 2023 everyone!

Into the Light: A New Fic for @cssns

It's FINALLY my date for posting this year's CSSNS fic!!!!! I'm so excited to share it with all of you!!!

This fic is inspired by the 1987 movie, The Lost Boys, starring Kiefer Sutherland, Jason Patric, Dianne Wiest, and Edward Herrmann.

I may have written it, but there are several lovely ladies who were instrumental in getting this fic to you, the reader. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU to @jrob64 and @snowbellewells for beta duties and helping me decide on a title, @hollyethecurious for helping me brainstorm, @zaharadessert, @stahlop, and @grimmswan for their contributions in the early planning and writing phases.

And finally, ALLLLLL the love and long distance internet hugs to @motherkatereloyshipper for the AWESOME and INCREDIBLE artwork she made to accompany the fic!!! I could stare it for HOURS!!!

Summary: The move to Storybrooke, Maine might have been intended as the beginning of a new life for Killian Jones and his older siblings Liam and Belle, but there's a darkness over the town that threatens the small family's happiness, as well as the girl and small boy Killian has taken a liking to from his school. Killian is determined to help Emma and Henry get out of the situation they are in, but those dark forces in and around the town have another plan altogether.

Rating: T for non graphic violence and subject matter. There is a suggestive scene in ch2, but I don't think it crosses a line. If you have any questions, feel free to DM me.

Words: 9,800 of approx. 16,500.

Tags: Vampires, Inspired by The Lost Boys, CSSNS23

On ao3

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@teamhook @winterbaby89 @xarandomdreamx @undercaffinatednightmare @the-darkdragonfly @superchocovian @pirateprincessofpizza @tiganasummertree @anmylica @cosette141 @jonesfandomfanatic @ultraluckycatnd @jennjenn615 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @kymbersmith-90 @booksteaandtoomuchtv @wistfulcynic @mie779 @lfh1226-linda @aprilqueen84 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @pirateherokillian @elfiola @ilovemesomekillianjones @justanother-unluckysoul @poptart-cat-78 @myfearless-love @goforlaunchcee @searchingwardrobes @gingerpolyglot @gingerchangeling @djlbg @cocohook38 @cs-rylie @thisonesatellite @donteattheappleshook @deckerstarblanche @veryverynotgoodwrites @wefoundloveunderthelight @fleurdepetite @alexa-fangirl-forever

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Ch. 1 A Shadow on the Future

Liam Jones opened the front door of the house he and his family would soon be calling home. He turned around to see his younger siblings, Belle and Killian, hefting the suitcases they’d carted along on their cross country journey, the moving truck right behind them. Turning back toward the house, he entered and looked around approvingly. It was the first time he’d actually seen the house in person, and while it might not have been the smartest thing he could’ve done- buying a house, sight unseen- it looked like it was going to be more than adequate for the needs of his family.

Liam pointed off to the left as Belle and Killian came in.

“Bedrooms are back that way,” he said. “Belle, you can have the master so you can have your own bathroom. Killian and I can share.”

“What?!” Killian exclaimed. “I’m not sharing a bedroom with you!”

Liam shot him an unamused look. “Bathroom, brother. We’ll share a bathroom.”

“Oh,” he said, looking a little sheepish.

“Are you sure, Liam?” Belle asked. “You’re the one who bought the house. You should have the biggest bedroom.”

Liam chuckled. “I’m sure. Trying to get you to hurry in the morning when we’re all trying to get out the door is a futile endeavor, so this way Killian and I won’t have to.”

Belle rolled her eyes, but the corner of her lip twitched upward slightly as she turned to head down the hallway. Killian followed her until he disappeared from Liam’s sight into the first bedroom he came to. Liam hoped his youngest sibling liked the house he’d bought and would be able to put the past year behind him and find happiness in their new home.

It was hard enough for Liam to survive the last seven months, as they waited for Belle to graduate with her teaching degree and find a job so they could all move away from the cursed town that had taken so much away from them. First, both of their parents died, leaving Liam, barely a man himself, with custody of his two younger siblings. Belle had been just about to graduate high school, and Killian was just entering his teens. Belle started college and excelled, while Killian navigated the difficult teen years with two siblings too caught up in their own grief and then individual lives to see him struggling to keep his head above water.

Killian had always been smaller than most of his peers and so was the target of bullies throughout his high school years. That led to his involvement in underage drinking and drugs before Liam realized what was going on with his little brother and got him the help he needed to get clean and sober the summer before his junior year in high school.

It wasn’t until Killian discovered his new girlfriend cheating last fall and then Liam’s longtime girlfriend passed away suddenly in January, that the family decided to move away from California as soon as Belle graduated and found a job. Liam had experience working on fishing boats and the docks and wanted to stay in that field, so when Belle started sending out her resumé, she focused on coastal towns. It took a couple of months after she graduated, but she finally settled on a small private school in Storybrooke, Maine.

The compensation and benefits were outstanding for someone just out of college, and Killian could enroll for his senior year of high school at only half the regular tuition rate. Liam was able to secure work on the docks in the small town. Given their location in southern California, everything from applying for jobs, to interviews, to buying the house, had been done remotely through the magic of technology. This was the first time any of them had stepped foot in the quaint hamlet they would now call home, but Liam was hopeful this was the beginning of a new life for them all.

Liam moved toward the remaining bedroom to drop off his own suitcase before coming back out to direct the movers where to put everything. Belle’s first day of work was almost a week and a half away with the first day of school the Monday after that, and Liam wanted to have everything unpacked and settled by then. Even if she wasn’t the oldest, Belle was still the lady of the house, and he knew she’d have a lot to say about where everything was placed once it was unpacked.

By the end of the day, everyone was pleasantly sore and exhausted as they sat down around the kitchen table to devour the pizzas Liam had ordered.

“We got a lot done today, guys,” Liam said, around a mouthful of supreme pizza. Belle shot him a disapproving look.

“You’re worse than Killian, Liam,” she said. “Don’t speak with your mouth full.”

Liam and Killian shot each other an amused smirk. It was always fun to tease their sister.

“I don’t think we’ll have any trouble getting everything unpacked before you and I have to be at work next Monday,” he continued after swallowing.

“I don’t think so either,” Belle agreed. “My first full day is a week from Monday, but since I’ve never met the headmaster in person, I thought I’d go by and meet him sometime next week. Just to introduce myself and look around a bit.”

“That sounds like a good idea. What about you, Killian?” he asked. “What are you going to do with yourself once you’re all unpacked?”

Killian shrugged. “I should have everything unpacked and set up tomorrow, then I can help Belle in the kitchen. But I was kinda thinking about looking for a job. I still have a couple of weeks before school starts, and once it does, I can work two or three nights during the week and on the weekends.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Killian?” Liam asked. “I don’t want you to be overwhelmed between school and work.”

Killian shrugged again. “If it gets to be too much, I’ll cut back on hours or quit.”

“If you’re sure,” Liam murmured. Belle nodded in agreement, placing her hand on Killian’s forearm and squeezing it gently in support.

“This is the start of a new life for us,” Belle said, a bright smile on her face. “And I have no doubt we’ll be very happy here.”

“I hope so,” Killian murmured. He tried to muster up a smile to match his sister’s, but doubted he succeeded. It wasn’t that he was against this move, far from it, but he had to admit to being slightly intimidated coming into a small school in a small town where everyone had probably known each other all their lives. Keeping to himself and staying busy with a job and schoolwork meant he wouldn’t have much time for a social life, and right now, that was just fine with him. He could find his footing in the school, get the lay of the land, then try to make some friends. He’d never had many, too small and too nerdy to really fit in with all the cliques back home. But maybe he could find some here. He’d filled out a lot the past year, and if the attention he’d gotten from the female portion of the population after he’d broken up with Tink last fall was any indication, he wasn’t bad looking, either.

Once the pizzas were gone, everyone retired to their respective beds. They were all too tired to even think about getting the TV set up, much less anything else. They’d gotten all the beds assembled with sheets and blankets on them, ready for their occupants, the internet up and running, and all the computers set up and online. They also had all the furniture in place in all the rooms. All they needed to do was unpack the rest of the boxes and settle everything in their places.

It was going to be a very long and busy week.

~*~*~

The Wednesday after the family arrived in town, Belle visited St. James Academy, the small private school where she would be teaching a class of seventeen first graders in a week-and-a-half. The lights were off in the wide hallways, creating a shadowed and somnolent atmosphere in the seemingly deserted building. Before seeking out the main offices and Mr. Robert Gold, the headmaster, she decided to walk along the halls and familiarize herself with the layout of the school. She found the lunchroom, gymnasium, and bathrooms before turning the corner and finding the elementary school classrooms.

Storybrooke was a small town, and the school reflected that with only one classroom per grade until the high school years. High school sports were big in the tiny hamlet and once kids hit junior high, the lack of a sports program at St. James Academy meant the steady withdrawal of students until there just weren’t enough to justify individual classes for the different grades. The 9th through 12th graders at the school attended all the same classes together, and there were a total of thirteen students. Killian was one of only three who would actually be graduating in the spring.

Belle found her classroom without any problem as each room had a placard outside with the grade level. She opened the door and was pleased to find that it was a spacious, well-lit room. The back wall contained three very large windows that let in an abundance of natural light. She walked in, absolutely charmed. There was a reading corner with small bookshelves filled with books for not only her young students to read themselves, but also classic chapter books for her to read aloud to them. She saw The Hobbit, The Chronicles of Narnia, and the Little House series, among others. She could already picture a bright yellow rug with large throw pillows and bean bags for her students to lie on as they got lost in the fantastical worlds Belle knew were contained within the books she saw.

The sound of a clearing throat drew her attention back to the door of her classroom. She turned and saw an older, slight man, his two hands on top of a cane held in front of him standing in the shadows of the hallway. His hair was straight, light and on the thin side, coming to his shoulders. He was impeccably dressed in a gray three piece suit that made his dark eyes even more striking.

“May I help you, Miss?” he asked. His voice had a slight musical quality that Belle felt herself drawn to. She moved back toward the door and him.

“Mr. Gold?” she asked, extending her hand toward him as she approached. It was an educated guess on her part, having never laid eyes on her new boss. The application and interview process had been completely blind with the final interview only an audio call instead of a video conference.

He appeared startled, then the corner of his lips lifted in a small smile as he reached his own hand toward her.

“Yes, my dear,” he replied. “I’m the headmaster here at St. James Academy.”

“I’m Belle Jones, your new first grade teacher.”

He propped his cane in the door frame and took her hand in both of his, his smile widening to show his dazzling white teeth. As soon as his hands closed over hers, Belle felt almost an electrical current shoot up her arm. Her eyes met his, and she let out a small gasp. Something in his gaze captured her attention completely, and she couldn’t look away. His eyes were like bottomless pools that drew her in, inviting her to let go and surrender. Belle could feel herself sinking, her muscles relaxing, a sort of wooziness taking over her mind that she was helpless to resist. Yet, at almost the same time, something deep down inside her rose up from within, almost a compulsion to back up and put some distance between herself and the man in front of her.

She shook her head slightly, breaking his spellbinding gaze and backed up a step into her classroom again. He immediately released her hand, remaining in the shadowed hallway.

“It is wonderful to finally meet you, Miss Jones,” he said. “I see you found your classroom. How do you like it?”

“It’s wonderful,” she said, sincerely. “But please, call me Belle.” She smiled at him, and when she did, his eyes seemed to dance with glee. She averted her gaze slightly, feeling that wooziness start to creep back up again.

“I’m so glad you like it… Belle.” The musical quality was back in his voice, and her heart rate ticked up in response. The way he said her name made her think of a sommelier tasting a new wine before approving it. “And if I’m to call you Belle, then I must insist you call me Robert.”

Belle’s cheeks heated slightly and she averted her eyes again.

“Robert,” she parroted.

“Well,” he said after a slight pause, “I’ll leave you to look around your room for a bit. If you need anything or have any questions, I’ll be in my office just down the hall. If not, I’ll see you on Monday.” He picked up his cane in one hand and held his other hand out to her again. She placed her own hand in his, and he raised it to his lips with a slight bow. The moment he brushed his lips along her knuckles, another shock raced up her arm, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. Belle nodded as he let go of her hand and walked away, his shoes and cane clicking on the tile floor.

Belle turned back to her room, walked over to her desk, and sat down behind it. A happy smile lit up her face as she looked around her classroom. Her first classroom. Yes, she was sure this was the beginning of a new life for the Jones family, and that they would be very happy here.

~*~*~

The bell above the door of Any Given Sundae rang as a small group entered the ice cream shop where Killian had easily found a job the week after his family moved into their new home. School hadn’t yet started, so Killian was thrilled to be working a good number of hours. He was amazed at the traffic the small shop got. Sure, it was August, but everything he’d observed about Storybrooke was completely belied by the amount of people on the boardwalk every night. Where did they all come from?

He looked at the group coming in and noticed a gorgeous blonde behind the three men in front, and a small boy almost hiding behind her. Something about them made Killian sit up and take notice, and it wasn’t the girl’s stunning beauty. The men had a swagger that put Killian’s teeth on edge. He had known people like that back home and they almost always meant trouble. Turning his attention back to the blonde and little boy, he could clearly see the nerves rolling off of her, and while he expected a kid to be excited to be getting ice cream and leading the way into the shop, the little boy with her looked to be trying to disappear. Killian narrowed his eyes as the group approached, quite sure something was wrong here.

The one who seemed to be the leader stepped up to the counter, a sarcastic smirk on his face. He was entirely unremarkable in his appearance- brown hair and brown eyes, a mustache and goatee, a little huskier than his very thin companions, and just a little shorter than Killian himself.

“Haven’t seen you around here before,” he said, looking down into the cooler at all the ice cream flavors offered. “You new in town?”

“What’s it to you?” Killian shot back, his agitation at the perceived situation before him making him unable to greet the customers with the normal friendly welcome. He took a deep breath and tried again. “Apologies. May I help you with some ice cream?” He cut his eyes toward the girl and smiled. She looked to be about his age. Her smile back at him was shy. Killian opened the cooler and scooped out a generous helping of his favorite flavor.

He handed the ice cream cone to her with an attempt at a wink that made her blush and smile wider. She took the cone and looked down at the boy still trying to hide behind her.

“Want some rum raisin, Henry?” When Henry shook his head, she shrugged and took a long lick of it herself. Her smirk was mischievous as she looked back at Killian. “Rum Raisin and Rocky Road are my favorites. How did you know?”

Killian waggled his eyebrows at her. “I knew a woman as beautiful as you would have excellent taste, so I shared my personal favorite.” He turned his attention to Henry. “And what can I get for you, young man?”

The boy’s eyes cut toward the man who’d first spoken to Killian. It was impossible to miss the stormy visage on the man’s face, so Killian ignored him completely and focused on Henry.

“Can I have Cookies and Cream, please?”

“Of course, you may,” Killian said, handing him a cone. The boy’s smile was blinding, and Killian couldn’t help but smile back.

“What can I get for you gentlemen?” Killian asked, finally turning his attention to the other three.

“Butter Pecan for me,” the first man said, his brows still furrowed angrily.

“Chocolate for me,” the second man said. He looked to be the youngest of the three. He had light brown hair, a baby face, and was a little shorter than the leader. He didn’t look much older than Killian.

“Chocolate Chip,” the third man said. He was several inches taller than the other two men and skinny as a rail. He had a long scar down the side of his face that gave him a dangerous look.

Killian handed out the ice cream and collected the money. The girl and Henry were the first ones out the door, the blonde throwing a soft smile over her shoulder as she exited the shop.

The leader either couldn’t or didn’t bother trying to hide the anger on his face as the door shut behind her. He turned back to Killian and leaned over the counter as far as he could as the other two men moved toward the door, smirks firmly on their faces that sent a chill down Killian’s spine.

“I expect I’ll be seeing you around… Killian,” he said, his eyes flicking down to where Killian’s nametag was affixed to his uniform shirt. Killian couldn’t help the shudder that overcame him at the look on the man’s face. It was assessing and chilling at the same time. If eyes were the windows to the soul, Killian wasn’t sure this guy had one. But there wasn’t a thing he could do. Just hope the group wouldn’t come back anytime soon. Or at least, the three men.

With a smirk that matched his male companions, the man turned and walked out into the night.

~*~*~

Killian entered the front door of St. James Academy the following Monday morning and was greeted with a veritable cacophony from all the younger students, high on the excitement inherent in the first day of school. Before heading toward the high school wing, he decided to find Belle’s classroom and say hi. It only took him a minute to find it, and when he peeked his head in, he saw his sister in her element, surrounded by a crowd of munchkins. She looked so happy and excited to be there, Killian couldn’t help his own grin breaking over his face.

“Hi, Belle,” he called. Her smile got even wider when she turned to him.

“Hi, Killian,” she said, coming toward him. As soon as she reached the door, she gathered him in a tight hug. “Ready for today?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he answered. “What about you?”

Belle always had a lovely smile, but her face positively glowed with happiness at his question. “As I’ll ever be,” she echoed. “Why don’t you meet me here after school and we’ll go get some ice cream to celebrate our first day?”

Killian grinned. “Sounds good to me. Maybe Liam can meet us, too.”

Belle’s eyes cut to someone standing behind him, and her smile became just a bit softer as Killian turned around and got ready to head toward his classes. There was a man standing behind him, one hand on a cane, the other held out toward him. His dark eyes glittered and his skin was pale, almost sickly looking.

“Good morning, Belle. This must be your brother, Killian,” he said. Killian took the man’s hand and shook it, a tingle shooting up his arm at the contact. “I personally know all my students, and your face is new here today,” he explained. “Plus your blue eyes and the shape of your chins are remarkably similar.”

Belle laughed lightly. “Yes, Robert. This is my younger brother, Killian. Killian, Robert Gold, the headmaster.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Gold,” Killian said, releasing the man’s hand and trying not to shake some feeling back into it. Mr. Gold’s eyes were a bit disconcerting, and that, combined with the tingle up his arm when they shook hands, left Killian feeling very ill at ease in the man’s presence.

“Excuse me,” a small voice said behind Mr. Gold. The three of them looked down to see a small brown haired boy that Killian recognized as Henry from Any Given Sundae the other night.

“Hi, Henry,” he said before his eyes caught the gaze of the young woman behind him. A huge grin split his face.

She wore sunglasses, but there was no doubt it was the same girl who accompanied Henry and the three men last week when he was working.

Henry looked up at him and smiled, his hand lifting in a shy wave.

“Henry Mills?” Belle asked. Henry nodded. “I’m so happy to meet you,” she said, a huge welcoming smile on her face. “I’m Miss Jones, your teacher. I see you’ve already met my younger brother, Killian.”

Henry nodded vigorously. “Yes, ma’am. Emma and I got ice cream last week, and Killian helped us.”

Killian found it curious that Henry didn’t mention the three men he’d been with.

“Emma?” he asked, holding his hand out for her to shake. “I’m Killian. Killian Jones,” he said with a little bow. “I’m Henry’s teacher’s younger brother.” He felt a bit silly basically repeating everything Belle and Mr. Gold had just said, that he was sure she heard, but he was knocked off-kilter just enough at her presence that he couldn’t think of anything else to say. She smiled and shook his hand, but didn’t take her sunglasses off.

“It’s nice to meet you, Killian,” she said. She looked nervously at Mr. Gold and then at Belle. “I’m Emma Swan, Henry’s sister. We live in the same foster home,” Emma explained. “I’m a senior and will be bringing Henry and picking him up every day. If he has any issues, you can let me know.”

“Oh, I see,” Belle said with a nod. “It’s very nice to meet you, Emma. Come on in, Henry, and find your seat. You’ll see Emma after school.” She gestured toward the boy and laid her arm across his shoulders as he entered her room. “I’ll see you later, Killian.” She gave them all a brief nod and turned back toward her room.

Killian was delighted to discover that Emma was also a senior at the school. That meant they’d have all of the same classes. He turned to her with a wide smile on his face.

“I’m a senior, too,” he said a little shyly. “May I walk you to class?”

Emma smiled at him and nodded. As they walked away from Belle’s classroom, Killian couldn’t help thinking that their future in Storybrooke was going to be a good one.

Mr. Gold watched them walk away down the hall toward the high school classrooms. A hint of a smile curved the corner of his lips as he turned toward his office.

~*~*~

The first week of school flew by and before Killian knew it, it was Friday morning. He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he sat down next to Emma in their classroom.

“Did you get the Pre Cal homework done?” he asked.

She let out a huge yawn before speaking. “I did, but there was one I couldn’t get no matter how many times I went back.” She pulled out her notebook and opened it up to the homework due this morning. “This one,” she said, pointing.

Math was Killian’s favorite subject, so he looked at Emma’s paper and immediately saw where she’d gone wrong in her calculations. He pulled out his homework and let her compare.

“Ugh,” she groaned, once she figured it out. “I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t,” Killian encouraged her. “Sometimes we get so caught up in it, it’s impossible to see our mistakes without a second pair of eyes. Now that you know what you did wrong, you’ll do fine on the quiz.”

“I hope so,” she murmured. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Killian put his math homework away and got out his Anatomy and Physiology notebook. He cut his eyes toward Emma, a worried frown on his face. She looked just as tired this morning as she had all week. He obviously didn’t know her very well, but they’d struck up a quick friendship since Monday- sitting next to each other in class, exchanging phone numbers, and helping each other with homework. Judging from some of the time stamps on their texts, he knew she had trouble sleeping at night. And then when she’d invariably fall asleep in their morning classes, the academically challenging classes at that, he couldn’t help but worry about her. So far, it hadn’t seemed to hamper her, but Killian knew she couldn’t sleep through her morning classes and expect to graduate next spring.

Once their morning classes were over, and Emma looked a bit more awake, they headed down to the lunch room.

“So what are your plans this weekend?” Killian asked.

Emma shrugged as they sat down to eat. “Oh, the usual. Hang out at the boardwalk. Study for the history test Tuesday.” She looked him full in the face, something in the depths of her eyes that Killian couldn’t quite define. “There’s a beach party I’m going to tonight. Would you like to come?”

Killian’s brow furrowed. Her “usual” meant she’d be with those three guys who’d come into the store with her last week. He wasn’t sure he wanted to attend anything where those three were around.

Emma placed her hand on his arm. “I’d really like you to come,” she said, cutting her eyes to the side slightly.

Since his stint in rehab, Killian had no trouble reading people. It was a gift he had developed during his time there that enabled him to see more under the surface rather than taking situations and people at face value. That ability had served him very well in the last year. But the mixed signals he was getting from Emma were really throwing him off. Her words and actions told him she really wanted him to come with her, but her eyes and the tension in her body told another story. She seemed almost fearful, and given the vibes those men had thrown off last week, Killian could definitely see why. He couldn’t abide leaving Emma in a situation like that, not without trying to help her.

“Are those three guys you were with last week gonna be there?” he asked.

“It’s Neal’s party, the one who asked if you were new in town, so, yeah, they’ll all be there. And a few others too. There’ll be a bonfire on the beach, food, drinks, and music.” Her green eyes met his, and he was helpless to look away. He could get lost in them forever and he’d die happy.

“Sure,” he agreed. “I’ll be glad to come. What time?”

“Meet me at the ice cream shop as soon as the sun sets.”

“Alright, Emma.”

After that there was very little conversation as they hurriedly finished their lunch.

~*~*~

That evening, Killian stood outside Any Given Sundae waiting for Emma.

“Killian!” He heard his name and turned toward the sound, away from the beach. Henry belted down the boardwalk toward him, Emma walking at a more sedate pace behind the child. Killian was barely able to brace himself before Henry jumped in his arms.

“Henry!” he cried, surprised. “What are you doing here? How was your first week of school?”

“I’m coming too,” Henry said. Killian turned quizzical eyes on Emma as she approached. He wasn’t sure a beach party with teens and adults was a good place for Henry to be. “School was great!” he exclaimed. “Miss Jones is so nice. We have math and art and reading. We sing songs and have lots of fun.”

“I’m so glad you had a good week, Henry,” he told the boy. “Belle, I mean, Miss Jones, is having a great time as your teacher, too. She says you’re so smart, but should maybe be going to bed at night a little earlier so you’re not so tired in the morning,” he said, bopping Henry on the nose, making him giggle. Killian hated to think of such a small boy not having the kind of care he needed to make sure he was getting a good night's sleep every night. As Emma finally approached, Killian caught her eye and was reminded of her own sleeping habits.

Emma sighed as she ran her fingers through Henry’s brown hair. “He’s almost as bad as I am about sleeping,” she bemoaned. “I do make him turn out the lights at 11 though. He’s just a night owl, like me.”

Killian nodded. “Belle said he’s obviously very tired in the morning and has fallen asleep every day after lunch when she reads aloud to the class.”

“Yeah,” Emma agreed. “Then he’ll usually take about another hour or two nap when we get home from school.”

Emma started walking toward the beach, Killian still carrying Henry. He still wasn’t sure it was a good idea for the little boy to come to the party, but from the hints he’d gotten about their home life, he had a feeling that Emma was the only one who really cared for him and he couldn’t really blame her for wanting to bring him along. Maybe there’d be something there for him to enjoy, beach games or something like that. Killian felt good carrying Henry in his arms. As shy as he’d been that first time they met and then Monday too, it made Killian’s heart swell in his chest that he’d seemed to not only win Emma’s trust, but Henry’s as well.

The boardwalk was packed to the gills. As small as the town was, and especially now that school was in session, Killian was amazed at how all the town’s residents seemed to come out of the woodwork and descend on the entertainment venue. There was a movie theater, plenty of places to eat, an arcade, and a small amusement park with carnival rides at the end.

They descended the steps from the boardwalk to the beach and started heading north. After trekking along the beach for about ten minutes, they came to a good sized cottage. It was set back quite a ways from the water, but was just as far from the boardwalk, as well, giving it a sense of privacy from all the activity. It was an easy walk from the house to the boardwalk if the residents wanted to avail themselves of all the distractions offered there.

They entered the house to find it almost empty. There was a young man in the kitchen, raiding the refrigerator. He stood up when the door closed behind the three of them. He had olive skin and jet black hair and a nervousness about him that instantly put Killian on alert.

“Hi, Emma,” he said. “Who’s this?”

“This is Killian, Rufio,” she introduced. “He’s in my class at school and new in town, so I invited him tonight.”

“Nice to meet you, man,” Rufio said, lifting his chin in his direction.

“You, too,” Killian nodded. He put Henry down and watched him scamper away.

“Don’t worry about him,” Emma whispered to him. “He spends most of his time in the gameroom where the PS5 is.”

“Gotcha.” Emma led him into the kitchen where there was an assortment of food on the counter. They both filled their plates and then went out the back of the house to where the bonfire on the beach had just been lit. There were about twenty folks out there, dancing to the music or just sitting on the large logs that served as chairs for the gathering.

“There you are, Ems.” The man who’d done all the talking when the group came into the ice cream shop last week before school started approached them. “Who’s this?” He turned his dark eyes on Killian, and he felt a shiver of unease work its way down his spine. It was very similar to the feeling the group left him with the other night, and there wasn’t a doubt in Killian’s mind that this guy knew very well who he was. He glanced at Emma, who looked at the man with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Killian Jones,” he introduced himself, swallowing his nerves and holding his hand out in front of him. “I’m in Emma’s class at school.”

“Ah, yes, Any Given Sundae, right?” he asked, shaking his hand. Killian nodded. “Glad you could come tonight,” he said, the look in his eyes belying his words. There was a challenge in them, a distaste and arrogance that made Killian’s temper bristle. The man put his arm around Emma’s shoulders, and he could almost see her fold in on herself- her head bowed slightly, shoulders hunched, eyes darting around restlessly, not landing on anything for more than a moment.

The man motioned to a couple of others near the fire that Killian couldn’t see well in the dark. A moment later, the other two from the ice cream shop joined them.

“I’m Neal, this is Peter, and this is Felix,” Neal finally introduced himself and his companions. When he turned back to Killian, any animosity there’d been earlier was completely gone. It was almost like he was putting on a show for someone. Peter and Felix’s smiles were similar. “We live here in the house, and you’re welcome to come hang out or visit anytime.”

Killian’s eyes darted to Emma, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze, just ratcheting up the tension inside him that much more. If Neal and the other men were going to put on a show, two could play at that game, Killian decided, plastering a smile on his own face.

“Thanks, man. I might take you up on that.” There was no way in hell he was going to leave Emma, or Henry either, behind with these men. She obviously felt trapped by Neal for some reason, and as long as she remained a part of this group, then Killian would too, doing what he could to protect her and help her escape.

As the night wore on, Killian really did have a good time. He was introduced to too many people to keep track of, most of them older, but Rufio, whom he’d met earlier, and a couple of others were a little younger than himself and Emma. The food was good and he did get to spend a little one-on-one time with Emma when Neal, Peter and Felix disappeared for a while.

As the party and the bonfire were winding down, the only people left were himself, Emma, the hosts, and Henry, who’d come outside a little while earlier. He sat on the sand, his head laying in Emma’s lap as she stroked his hair soothingly.

“I need to be getting Henry home,” Emma said quietly. “He needs his sleep.”

Neal laughed derisively. “He’s fine, Ems. Let’s have one more drink,” he proposed, holding up an oddly shaped bottle. “A welcome to Storybrooke drink for Killian.” The cunning look he shot around the group was mirrored by the other two men and set Killian’s teeth on edge.

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Killian protested. “I don’t drink. I’ve had a problem with it in the past. Before I moved here,” he explained.

Felix snorted. “Awwww, can someone not hold their liquor?” he taunted.

Neal shot a warning glance at Felix before looking at Killian. “Ignore him. It’s not alcohol,” he assured him. That cunning look passed between the men again. “It’s our own special brew. You have my word, you can’t get drunk on it.”

He turned to Emma, who sat in between him and Neal. He knew Neal was telling the truth, but there was definitely more to the situation than met the eye and he wanted to try and see what Emma thought about it.

Neal spoke again. “Emma had some earlier this summer. It’s a bit of an initiation into the group. It will make you one of us.” Neal’s dark eyes almost glowed as he handed Killian the bottle. He reached out and took it in his hand, unable to look away from Neal’s gaze.

He barely heard Emma’s whispered words. “You don’t have to. It’s blood.”

Killian snorted, quite certain he’d misheard her. “Yeah, right.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a long swig, his surroundings starting to spin. He tipped his head back- Emma, his other companions, and the beach all disappearing- and felt himself falling, falling, falling, until he landed on his bed.

It felt like only moments later that Killian opened his eyes. The light streaming in his room was that of late afternoon. Killian blinked and shielded his eyes from the bright, direct sunlight. He could barely see anything. His head was spinning and pounding like he hadn’t felt since he dried up in rehab over a year ago. He was still dressed in his clothes from the night before and his mouth had a metallic taste in it that was making his stomach protest mightily. He sat up slowly, mindful of his rolling stomach. Whatever it was he’d drunk the night before at the bonfire, had done quite a number on his system. He put his feet on the floor and his head in his hands. The darkness there was a profound relief, and the dizziness and pounding headache were suddenly gone. The nausea was even greatly diminished. He buried his eyes in the corner of one elbow as he sought the pull string that would close the blinds covering his window with his other hand. As soon as he found it, he closed them and looked up. It was dark enough in the room that the pounding in his head was still kept at bay.

He rose from the bed and moved to the door of his room, cracking it open. The hallway was dark, and he could hear someone in the kitchen, but that was all. He shut the door again and gathered some clean clothes. He had work this evening, and he hoped a hot shower and maybe some scrambled eggs would make him feel well enough to be able to go.

About thirty minutes later, Killian came out of his bedroom ready for work. Belle was in the kitchen, getting the ingredients together for supper. She jumped slightly when Killian entered.

“There you are!” she exclaimed. “Take those sunglasses off, Killian,” she admonished him lightly. “You’re in the house. You don’t need them.”

“I’ve got a terrible headache, Belle,” Killian said, grabbing her attention. “Would you mind just scrambling me some eggs? I’ve got to leave for work in a few minutes.”

Her brow furrowed in concern. “Are you sure you’re up to working tonight, Killian?” she asked, getting the eggs out. “You were out so late last night and you’ve slept all day and now you have this headache.” She moved toward him and placed her hand against his forehead. “You don’t feel warm, though. You didn’t do anything last night you shouldn’t have, did you?”

He knew exactly where her thoughts had gone and he couldn’t really blame her, not with how he was feeling. “I’m not sick,” he assured her. “I was at a beach party last night with Emma and no, I didn’t drink any alcohol and there weren’t any drugs around, that I know of. I promise. I just need something to eat to settle my stomach and take the edge off of the headache. I’m fine to work.”

“If you’re sure,” she said, her voice skeptical in the extreme. “But you come straight home after work and get a good night’s sleep tonight.”

“I will, Belle. Thank you.”

As soon as she set the eggs before him, he dug in. They really did make him feel better. His headache was abated and the nausea was gone.

“Thanks, Belle,” he said, rising and kissing her on the cheek. “That was exactly what I needed. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Have a good shift, Killian.”

~*~*~

Killian sat down next to Emma on Monday and immediately put his head down in his arms on the desk.

“You look like I feel,” she said, a wan smile on her face.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he mumbled into his arms. “I’ve hardly slept this weekend. Since the party Friday night, I slept almost all day Saturday, worked Saturday night, didn’t fall asleep until sometime after four, slept until about ten, then couldn’t sleep last night.” He groaned. “How am I supposed to stay awake and concentrate all day?”

Emma put her hand on his arm in sympathy. “I know how you feel,” she commiserated.

“Belle almost made me stay home today, but with the history test tomorrow and Pre Cal test Wednesday, I couldn’t afford to miss.” He raised his head and looked at her. “We’re gonna have to keep each other awake today,” he told her, smiling tiredly.

“Deal,” she said.

That afternoon, they left school together, Henry in between them holding both their hands. Killian shut his eyes as they emerged into the light.

“Man, I forgot how bright that sun is outside the building,” he bemoaned, reaching into his shirt pocket for his sunglasses. Once he got them on, he could open his eyes fully. Turning to Emma, he saw she had hers on as well. Henry squinted against the sunlight.

“You need sunglasses, too, huh, Henry?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” he said.

As they approached their cars in the parking lot, Killian looked at Emma. “Would you guys like to come to my house to study?” he asked shyly, scratching behind his ear in nervousness.

Neal had made it quite obvious at the party that he and Emma were together, even if she didn’t seem to be as enamored of him as he was possessive of her. Killian couldn’t deny how he felt about Emma, but he didn’t want to be seen by anyone as trying to steal her away from Neal. As friendly as he’d been at the party, Killian didn’t trust Neal as far as he could throw him and didn’t want to ruffle any feathers until either he was certain Emma and Henry were safe, or he could get them away from Neal and the others completely.

“We could study for the history and Pre Cal tests while Henry takes a nap,” he continued.

Emma looked down at Henry, catching him in the middle of a huge yawn. “What do you think, Henry?” she asked. “Want to go over to Killian’s?”

The poor kid was obviously exhausted, but he grinned anyway, nodding his assent.

“You can follow me,” Killian said. “It’s not far.”

Emma smirked as she opened the door to her yellow bug for Henry to climb in the back. “It’s Storybrooke, Killian. Nothing is far.”

Killian huffed out a chuckle and grinned. “Point taken.”

The rest of the week continued much the same way. Killian was unable to fall asleep until the wee hours of the morning and spent the morning hours at school struggling to stay awake and concentrate, exactly the way Emma did. He did everything he could to keep his difficulties away from Belle and Liam, but Belle was very observant and by Friday afternoon, Killian knew that she suspected something was up with him.

He lay in his bed with the blinds closed feigning sleep when he heard Belle come in the front door. It was only a few moments later that she knocked on his door and cracked it open.

“Killian,” she called softly. “I know you’re not asleep,” she continued after a brief pause. “You snore, loudly, when you’re really asleep.” He could hear the smirk in her tone of voice, so he turned over and faced the door.

“Excuse you,” he groused. “I do not snore.”

“You do,” Belle insisted, coming into the room and sitting on the end of the bed. She looked at him, her eyes full of concern, and Killian cut his eyes away from her. “What’s going on, Killian?” she asked. “Archie stopped me after school today and told me that you’ve been much less attentive in your classes this week than you were last week. That you didn’t participate as much and looked to be having trouble staying awake.”

Killian sat up on his bed and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know, Belle. All last weekend and this week, I haven’t been able to sleep at night. No matter how tired I am, or what time I go to bed, I toss and turn until almost dawn. And then the alarm goes off at seven.”

“You can’t keep that up, Killian,” she said. “Maybe if you took a sleeping aid.”

“I don’t want to do that unless I absolutely have to,” he said. “I’m off work this weekend, so I don’t have to worry about being up early until Monday. Let me try to get caught up on sleep this weekend- even if I’m sleeping during the day- and see how next week goes. We don’t have any tests until Thursday, so if I need to take a sleeping aid Wednesday night, I will.”

Belle pressed her lips into a thin line, but nodded her acquiescence and rose to leave. “What are you doing tonight?” she asked from the door.

“I was going to take a short nap then meet Emma and Henry at the boardwalk in a few hours. We were going to take him to the amusement park.”

“Ok,” she said. “Robert asked me out…”

Killian sat up abruptly. “The headmaster?” he interrupted.

Belle nodded. “He’s taking me to dinner.”

Killian’s brows furrowed. Belle was a grown woman, but Gold had to be nearly twice her age, and he couldn’t help a small shudder of distaste at the much older man pursuing his sister.

“You like him then?” he asked.

“He’s handsome,” she began, “and he’s been very kind to me. Yes, I do like him.”

Killian swallowed his objection. “Ok. As long as you do. But if he hurts you, I don’t care who he is, he’ll have to answer to me.”

Belle smiled indulgently and came back over to his bed. She leaned down and hugged him tightly.

“Thanks, Killian. I’m sure that knowledge will keep him in line.” She released him and moved back toward the door. “Have fun tonight. I’ll see you later.” With those words, she left him to sleep for a little while.

Later that night, Killian, Emma, and Henry arrived at the amusement park. He did his best to ignore the plethora of MISSING posters covering every available surface along the boardwalk, including one featuring the face of the boy he’d met last weekend at the beach party, Rufio. How a town as small as Storybrooke could have this many missing people was a complete mystery to him. It was very unsettling, but he figured as long as they stayed together and in the well-lit areas of the boardwalk and amusement park, they wouldn’t have to worry.

It was the first time Killian had been there, and he couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he and Emma followed Henry who ran from ride to ride, so excited to be there. They ate dinner from a Mexican food truck near the entrance and then indulged in all the carnival food offered inside the park.

It really was a tiny amusement park with only ten rides offered. Henry loved them all, and they all rode them multiple times. Henry sat between them on the ferris wheel, but Killian was able to extend his arm along the back of the seat they rode in, lightly touching Emma’s shoulders. He brushed his fingers through her golden hair, and she turned to him with a soft smile on her face at the action. Killian’s heart rate picked up a little bit and he smiled in return.

After a couple of hours amusing themselves with the rides and games offered at the park, they decided to leave and see what else there was to do. They walked along sharing a Rocky Road cone when Neal, Felix, and Peter suddenly appeared, slinking out of the darkness underneath the boardwalk.

“There you are, babe,” Neal said, sidling up to her and putting his arm around her shoulders.

Just like last Friday, Emma seemed to shrink in on herself at the action. Henry took Killian’s hand, and he looked down, surprised. The discomfort on the boy’s face was real, so Killian squeezed his hand gently in reassurance. The child looked up, his brown eyes meeting his own, and Killian caught his breath at the absolute trust he saw in the boy’s gaze. Killian smiled, recommitting himself to being a part of this group until he could get Emma and Henry out of it.

“Come on,” Neal urged. “I want to show you guys something.”

They followed Neal to the other end of the boardwalk until they came to a fancy restaurant. Killian looked in the front window and was shocked to see Belle and Mr. Gold on their date. He looked ahead at Neal, who’d let Emma go, as he opened the door. Emma wasted no time falling back to join him and Henry at the back of the group.

“What are we doing here?” Killian asked, coming to a stop before entering. “Emma, Henry, and I have already eaten, so why don’t we just catch up with you later?”

Neal exchanged smirks with Peter and Felix before directing his attention to Killian. “Oh, we’re not here to eat. We just need to pay an old friend a visit.”

His emphasis on the word ‘friend’ told Killian something was up, and he might be well served to see what it was. He moved toward where Neal still stood, holding the door open for them.

Once inside, Neal moved to the front of the group and began to lead the way through the restaurant. Killian’s eyes immediately moved to Belle and her date, and it only took a moment for him to realize that was exactly where they were heading.

As Neal approached, Mr. Gold turned and saw them. He stood immediately and moved closer to Belle on the other side of the table, partially shielding her from view.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone.” Killian was at the back of the group, but he could clearly hear Gold growl the words at Neal.

“Oh, we’re not here for you, old man,” he said, his hand held out to Belle. She hesitated before placing her hand in his, but when she finally did, he lifted it to his lips. Killian couldn’t actually see Neal’s face as he spoke, but he knew exactly the look his countenance sported from the tone of his voice. A wide smile. Lifeless eyes. Soulless. Depraved. It made Killian want to throw up. He clenched his fists, almost shaking in his desire to forcefully get Neal away from his sister. But he wasn’t going to make a scene while she was on her date.

“Just wanted to share a little advice with the lady.” He lowered her hand and tilted his head toward Gold. “You want to watch out for that one. Things are not always what they seem.”

Neal released Belle’s hand and turned around to leave. Before he could turn and follow, Gold caught Killian’s eyes.

“This isn’t the kind of group you want to be hanging around, Mr. Jones,” he advised. “Miss Swan and Henry either. They can only lead you down the wrong path.” Belle turned alarmed eyes on Killian before they landed on Henry. But she didn’t speak. Killian wrapped his arm protectively around Henry’s chest and drew him closer as they started to turn away from the table, trying to assure Belle with his eyes that he’d keep Henry safe.

Once they were outside the restaurant again, Neal, Peter, and Felix were obviously in high spirits, laughing and high-fiving one another. Killian really didn’t see why they were so elated, so he just hung back with Emma and Henry. A few moments later, the three men turned their attention to them.

“Ok,” Neal said, clapping his hands together. “I think it’s time for Killian to fully join our crew. Whadda ya say, boys?” Felix and Peter loudly agreed, but Emma looked absolutely panicked and brought Henry in front of her, almost as a shield.

“I have to get Henry home,” Emma insisted. She turned to Killian and placed a hand on his arm. Pure, unadulterated fear swirled in her eyes. Whatever was happening here, Emma didn’t want to be involved, and she didn’t want him involved, either.

“Yeah, whatever, Ems,” Neal said before grabbing her around the waist and hauling her to him. Killian turned away as Neal kissed her, focussing his attention on Henry.

“I’ll see you later, Henry. Ok?” he asked, kneeling down in front of the boy. Henry nodded and took Emma’s hand when she made her way to them. She looked down at Henry, not meeting Killian’s eyes.

Her whisper just reached his ears as he turned toward the other three men. “I’m sorry. Be safe. Please.” He turned his head to answer her, but she was already walking away with Henry further down the boardwalk. He turned back to the others, their eyes almost glowing under the lights.

Felix moved toward him and draped his arm over Killian’s shoulders.

“Come on, man,” he said. “We’re gonna show you a really good time.” Peter got on the other side of him, and they all started walking towards the stairs down to the beach. Once they reached the sand, they started running toward the cottage in the distance, whooping and hollering, their arms outstretched. Running on the sand was hard, and Killian was having a difficult time keeping up when suddenly all three of them disappeared. Killian put on a burst of speed to catch up with them, when he was grabbed and pulled behind the rocks surrounding a secluded inlet of the ocean.

It all happened too fast for Killian to even cry out, but when he looked at the others, Neal slammed his hand over his mouth before what he was seeing could even be translated by his brain. All three men had changed. They were still recognizable, but their smiles were now dominated by long and wickedly sharp fangs, and their eyes had become translucent, their irises now a faded gold nearly matching the whites of their eyes and almost eclipsing their tiny pupils, making them look like some sort of monster. But that was exactly what they were. Three vampires looked at him hungrily, and Killian was completely helpless before them.

He was pulled along by Felix to the other side of the inlet to see a small group of six or seven people splashing around in the water. The three vampires descended upon their unsuspecting prey and made short work of every single person there. Their screams were short lived- drowned out by the sound of the ocean, and then abruptly cut off as the monsters began to feast.

He recognized the metallic smell on the air from the wholesale slaughter happening just a few feet away as the same taste in his mouth when he woke last Saturday after drinking whatever Neal had given him. Emma had been telling him the truth. It was blood he had been given that night. Killian thrust his hand into his mouth to smother his own screams that begged for release, only to taste his own blood from where his fangs pierced the skin of his hand. Pulling his hand from his mouth, he stared, horrified, at the blood dripping down his arm.

It seemed only moments later that the three of them stood before him once again, completely covered with the blood and gore of their victims. Killian looked to where they had all been, to see nothing but the calm water of the inlet, no trace of the massacre that had just occurred.

“You are one of us now, Killian,” Neal said, licking his lips. “And you must feed. The sooner you make your first kill, the better. For the longer you wait, the stronger the bloodlust will become, until you have no control over it at all. And then,” he shrugged, a slight smile lifting the corner of his lips, “who knows what might happen?”

Killian knew to what, or rather to whom, Neal was referring. If he didn’t make his first kill soon, he’d lose control and hurt someone he loved- Emma, Belle, Henry, or Liam. A wave of nausea came over him, and he turned away vomiting up everything he’d consumed earlier. As soon as he was finished, he ran, ran, ran, back to the boardwalk, through the throngs of people until he made it to his car. He tore out of the parking lot and raced home, locking himself in his bedroom.

He curled up in the middle of his bed, sobbing uncontrollably, waiting for sleep to claim him, knowing it was an impossible hope.

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and reblogging!! I'd love to hear what you think!! The final chapter will be up on Friday!

#cssns23 #krystal writes #into the light #art by motherkatereloyshipper

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cs-rylie · 2 years ago

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My Fic List

A virtual bookshelf of my Captain Swan fics! Links are for ao3. You will find:

Finished Works

Unfinished Words

Coming Soon

Some of these pics are.. bad. But I’ve grown in my art attempts, so I keep them to remind myself.. no matter where we start, we always have room to grow.

Finished Works:

Murphy’s Law - 28k words - 8 chapters

Emma dreams about the first 6 seasons of OUAT, and then wakes up to the real world. Except now, weird shit keeps happening.

Alternate Timeline - 143k words - 15 chapters

AKA Captain Swan Kitchen Sink. Enchanted forest, no curse. This was basically a practice document. Test myself, see what I was capable of writing. There are some moments I am so very proud of.. and some that are cringe.

Shipping Wars - 1620 words - OS

Rewrite of Emma arriving in SB in a modern AU. No EF, no magick, no curse, yet canon events stay pretty similar. I meant to continue this, but I can’t bring myself to write Emma with anyone other than Killian, so it’s staying as is. (Belongs in Graveyard WIPS, last on the list.)

Time after Time - 1230 words - OS

Another OS that I meant to turn into something bigger. This one is about 9/11 and nods to the real “man with the red bandana”. Never Forget. (Belongs in Graveyard WIPS, last on the list.)

Regina’s Revenge - 32k words - 8 chapters (part one)

A story about Regina dealing with Cora’s death, and what she could do to break Emma in revenge against Snow. Emma breaking is part two, and is in progress.

Collision - 367 words - OS

Me attempting to write sad emotions, SF breakup. CS ideas on the back burner. (extra chapters belong in Graveyard WIPS, last on the list.)

Pre-Wedding Scene - 569 words - OS

Just a little snippet of Emma and Killian not meeting before their wedding. This led me to write Irish Betrothal.

Heat & Ice - 6k words - OS

No curse AU, Emma finds herself in a frozen pickle, while Hook is struggling through the worst heatwave of his life. Opposites collide.

NYE One Shot - 1500 words - OS

Just a little meet-cute.

Unexpected Miracles - 558 words - OS

Teeny-Tiny OS to help grieve a lost friend.

Irish Betrothal

Two lonely souls separated by thousands of miles somehow find each other in the most unlikely of ways: a blind betrothal. With actual marriage. Getting them there is only half the battle - it's after the wedding where the fun begins.

Extras - Irish Betrothal

Bonus content for IB, currently marked as complete (but absolutely updatable if I find more deleted scenes or if I get inspired in the IB universe).

Unfinished Works: (less details until these are complete)

Chaos (the unplanned pregnancy one)

A one night stand. A coma. And two people who feel drawn to each other. What could possibly go wrong?

Connect the Prompts

The CS story YOU, the reader, directs. Chapter one was a whim from a conversation, and the rest is reader guided. (And this is so. much. fun. to write!)

Virginity for Sale

At 17, Emma decides she’ll sell her virginity as soon as she’s legal..

Lost Memory

Amnesia, witness protection, the fickle memory.. Emma doesn't even know her real name yet.

Smutcapades

Um. The smutty one.. for practice purposes lol (prompts and criticism are welcome)

Graveyard WIPS

I blame Muse for this. So, whenever I find a scrapped WIP, I'll post here.. because I have saves everywhere, and I can never bring myself to fully delete..

Threads of Destiny - Hurt/Comfort for Jrob64. So this starts with a bang and it just keeps going. Jrob64 gave me a bingo card of pain that I used to make a rough plot..

The Journal - My CSSNS ghost story fic for 2023! It all begins with a book lost to time.. A story unfinished, dying to be told

S1Cursed!Killian fic - Now I have to decide if I’m going ahead with the chapter in Graveyard (that got a lot more love than I was expecting), or the story idea that put it in the Graveyard. Or both?

Coming soon to ao3:

Angels - Killian is an angel, stuck on Earth.

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anmylica · 2 years ago

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Work(s) in Progress!

RULES: (in your own post, not mine please) post the names of the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! If you’d like, tag as many people as you have WIPs!

I was tagged by @nachocheese-itsmycheese to post my WIPs, so here they are!

All are Captain Swan at the moment; the muse hasn’t wanted anything else lol.

Current WIPS

*Kiss, Hickey, Annulment (More Cake Collection)

*Love (At First Sight)

*Undisclosed Desires

* Romancing Mister Jones (A Polin story)- MC; Coming July 2023!!

* Season 2 Episode 6 OS

*The Fields of Asphodel (Whumptober entry)- MC; Next chapter coming soon-ish

*Fly With the Black Swan (CSSNS Entry)- MC- Drops July 11, 2023!!

Planned WIPS

*Take Me Out (After the Ball Game) Part 2

*Untitled COVID Lockdown with one bed trope fic

*Untitled David leaves Storybrooke to rescue baby!Emma in 6x17 What-If Fic

*Season 5A Rewrite (prequel to Fields)

*Season II oneshots for each episode 7-22

*Something About December (Through a Wrench in Your Plans) Part 2- Coming December 2023!!

Tagging others to join in (though I know some have already been tagged): @kmomof4 @cosette141 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @xarandomdreamx

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linguistlist-blog · 2 years ago

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Calls, Canadian Society for the Study of Names 2023

2nd Call for Papers: The theme of the 2023 Congress is: “Reckonings & Re-Imaginings,” but papers on any onomastic topic are welcome. We also welcome papers to this year’s special panel, Names in Contact: Honouring the Legacy of Wolfgang Ahrens. Presentations are allotted 20 minutes, with an additional 10 minutes for questions and discussion. Remote presentations are welcome. The full call for papers is attached, and can also be found at https://ojs.lib.uwo.ca/index.php/oc/cssn-sco-2023 Pleas http://dlvr.it/SkvbbN

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snowbellewells · 2 years ago

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@spartanguard Okay, so I guess slow and steady wins the race here in regards to my fic reading lately, but all this same. This chapter was WONDERFUL!!! 💖💖💖 I can absolutely see why it was one of your favorites. There’s just so much in it that is intriguing, heartwarming, steamy, beautiful- it runs the entire gamut. And so much of it can be summed up so beautifully I’m what was probably my favorite quote from it: “You are one of the best people I know, Killian, and it’s because you once weren’t that makes you so good now—you’ve walked that path, you know what it was like, and you learned what not to do. Nothing and no one can change that.” I loved Emma’s absolute confidence, her rock solid faith in him and how she was able to bring him back around. We got to see Killian do that so well for her so often in canon, but I love how here she returns the favor so brilliantly, not for a second letting him count that she is right there for him and will always be by his side.

I loved too how you had him point out that there was still some black in his heart too, and even with that she assured him that it was just enough to keep him around long enough for them to meet. 😍😍😍

The glow of his magic, and how he seemed to finally accept and control its power, and the literal sparks of their connection were absolutely amazing here!! You did that gloriously well.

I am not liking Dorian having Killian’s hook though- not one bit. He is up to something g frighteningly bad, that much is obvious. And I’m moving right along to chapter nine anxiously.

sons of love and death, 8/13 {CSSNS 23}

Summary: After the Final Battle, Killian Jones had finally settled into his happily ever after with his wife and family. Until a new foe arrived in Storybrooke: the infamous Dorian Gray, who looks rather familiar—one might say identical—to the pirate, and he’s on a mission: to claim the powers of the Dark One for himself. There’s only one problem: the Dark One no longer exists. What follows is a journey of vengeance, revelations, magic, and finally facing down the darkness within himself that Killian thought he’d finally put to rest. [roughly canon divergent from 5B, though set post-canon] A/N: So here's the chapter of this @cssns story where things finally earn the M rating ;) (Also—not just because of that—this might be my favorite chapter of the whole thing.) Hope you enjoy it! (As always, thanks to the best beta, @optomisticgirl !) rated M | 5.7k words | AO3 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Killian took a pull from his flask as he stared out at the horizon. The sun had just set, its orange hue still painting the edge of the sky where it met the ocean, but stars were starting to twinkle in the inky blue overhead. The sight was normally soothing, but it wasn’t quite doing the trick tonight.

He should probably just go home; brooding on his ship was not going to give him anywhere near as much respite as Emma’s embrace would, but after the day he’d had, he also sorely needed a moment (or a few) alone to try to quell the internal tempest that was currently raging.

He was also desperate for Emma’s light, but knew he had to find his own first. (And not just the blue glow he could see pulsing in the vein at his wrist.)

That day saw him at yet another magic lesson. He’d slowly been getting better at harnessing his powers, but maintaining focus was still a challenge. Today was especially difficult as not only had they met in the woods—in an effort to teach him to channel his powers away from the call of the sea—but he’d already been distracted before he met Regina. His thoughts still lingered on the number of townsfolk giving him the cold shoulder; while he knew it was because of Dorian’s actions and not his own, it was still disheartening that his neighbors would be so quick to assume the worst in him, after his consistent work to the contrary.

Despite the progress he’d been making, he gave into those feelings of hurt and anger while harnessing his magic. It had resulted in some powerful moments, albeit uncontrolled—though he at least had enough magical acumen now to clean up the mess he’d made in the clearing in the forest.

Towards the end of the lesson, Regina huffed with her arms crossed and gave him a curious look. “What?” he snapped, taking deep breaths as he tried to calm the shaking in his limbs.

She pursed her lips. “It’s a good thing Emma isn’t here, is all.”

Before they were supposed to meet, Emma had to run off to tend to a break in at Any Given Sundae—Dorian again—so he’d originally attributed his inability to focus on the lack of her presence (though he knew he’d have to stop using her as an emotional crutch at some point). “And why is that?”

Regina strode closer. “I’m the last person to talk when it comes to warning you against feeding your magic with anger; we both know where that goes. But we also both know it’s easier that way.” Then she smirked. “And I know that it feels good.”

He swallowed; he wanted to refute that statement but…he couldn’t. Those angry outbursts—and the accompanying bursts of magic—tingled through his veins in a way that felt oddly euphoric. He was coming to enjoy the sensation of magic flowing through him, but he only felt it strongly when he let his darker emotions take charge. It still felt better than when the Darkness was coursing through him—more natural—but he was starting to worry that it might feel too good. And he was no stranger to addiction.

“So what do I do?” he asked, in a smaller voice than he intended. (Regina was not someone he’d ever thought he’d be vulnerable in front of.)

She shrugged. “You know I can’t answer that for you. But if there’s anyone I know who can figure it out, it’s you.”

Regina was far more confident in his abilities than he was—and it showed in his next failed attempt (or successful, depending on how one looked at it: his anger overtook him once more, and a nearby rock split in half).

She tutted as she put it back together with a(n annoyingly) casual wave of her hand. “You literally turned your back on the Darkness; this should be easy. How did you do that?”

After catching his breath, he said, “Well, Emma was quite literally having the life choked out of her; I’d rather not reenact that.”

Regina shook her head. “Both of you are so literal. It wasn’t the act; it was the emotion. For someone who wears their heart on their leather sleeve, you’re being awfully dense.” She took a deep breath. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but channel your love for Emma, or something.”

He smirked at her discomfort.

“Look, that’s the best you’re gonna get from me; you’ve gotta talk to your mother-in-law for all the lovey-dovey crap.”

It got a little better after that—but only his control; there was nothing so powerful as when he reacted instinctively and frustratedly. Regina seemed content enough at the end of their scheduled lesson, as the sun started to cast long shadows, but despite her uncharacteristically encouraging farewell, he still felt off-kilter.

Which brought him here, drinking on his ship, hunched over the railing, in what was proving to be a vain attempt to settle his soul. (Though he realistically should have known that would be no easy feat; it was well-documented that his soul was quite troubled.)

One terrible thought kept plaguing him, especially as he felt the magic in his blood sing in reaction to his proximity to the water: if his love for Emma wasn’t as strong as the anger at his core, then what did that say about him? There was no doubting the immensity of his feelings for her—True Love and all that—but, despite everything they’d been through in the last couple years, had he not yet risen above the depths of his own depravity enough to outweigh it?

And if so, would he ever?

Perhaps he and Dorian were still more similar than he’d like to admit.

“Drinking alone?” Speak of the devil. Killian stiffened at the noise, though; he still wasn’t used to the sound of his own voice coming from someone else. “Doesn’t seem very heroic.”

“What would you know about that, anyway?” he tossed over his shoulder at Dorian. Footsteps sounded as the other man apparently descended on the deck.

“Oh, nothing; just figured you’d be off with your lovely wife and all your friends, getting high on your own innate goodness.”

Killian turned around—only to find he was well and truly looking in a mirror; As he’d suspected, Dorian was wearing his clothes, his hook, and even more of his face than usual. “Bugger off,” was the only quip he could produce.

“What, trouble in paradise?” Dorian went on. “Color me surprised.” His smirk said the opposite.

“Sure you are,” Killian answered dryly. “And where does this little rendezvous fit into your futile plan? Come to see how well you’re ruining my life?” He was being a bit of what Henry called “emo,” but he figured it was deserved.

“Why must everything be part of some grandiose plan?” Dorian tossed back casually. “Everyone’s been telling me I should take a lesson from you; what if that’s what I was doing?”

“I’d say you need to study better,” he lectured.

“Ah, I was never much of a book learner. Too flammable.” As if to emphasize it, a burst of flame licked over him from head to toe as he dropped the glamour he’d been using.

“At least that’s one thing we don’t have in common.”

“Definitely more than that,” Dorian continued, either oblivious to or willfully ignoring Killian’s less-than-chipper mood. “You’ve got terrible taste in liquor, too; could barely drink half the rum I stole.”

“Poor you.”

From nowhere, a cigarette appeared in Dorian’s fingers; as he approached Killian, he snapped the fingers of his opposite hand and a flame danced at his fingertips that he used to light it, then shook the fire away as he took a drag.

“No smoking on my ship,” Killian warned, then doused the roll with a quickly summoned bit of seawater.

Dorian pouted, but then tossed the wasted cigarette overboard before leaning backwards against the railing next to him. “I have a feeling we could swap stories on where to find the best booze in all the realms; have you ever been to—”

“Not interested,” he interrupted, and corked his flask to hopefully put an end to that conversation.

“Suit yourself. But perhaps you can tell me: last time you were in Agrabah, how were the brothels? It’s been so long—”

Killian stepped to the side to face him. “Why don’t you go there and find out for yourself—and leave me the hell alone?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Dorian’s smirk was both audible and familiar—far too similar to Killian’s own, right down to the dimple that Emma had often told him was adorable, but just seemed insincere on the other man’s face.

(Though…he couldn’t deny he’d used it in the past to lull others into a false sense of security.)

He turned away and crossed the deck, no longer wanting to look at his counterpart. He imagined this was similar to what Belle once saw looking into the Ice Queen’s mirror: a twisted vision of one’s most intrusive thoughts brought to life.

“Do you really expect me to believe that Captain Hook, of all people, enjoys life in this…hamlet?” Dorian went on. “It’s just so…boring.”

Killian scoffed. “I had two hundred years of exciting; I’m fine with a bit of boring.”

“Please; you’re a wanderer. For all our differences, I know that’s the same.”

“It’s not; not anymore.”

“I think you’ve just forgotten,” his twin hypothesized, and he could hear and feel his steps getting closer. “Come on, man—let’s take this thing out and set sail. Do some pirating in the Caribbean, eh? Head back to our home realm and visit Pleasure Island. Or we could go to Agrabah, like you said; check out those whorehouses ourselves. Bet things are getting pretty dull with the missus, eh?”

It was like a spark ignited in Killian at the mention of Emma—how bloody dare he assume that? (Especially when it couldn’t be further from the truth.) He didn’t even think; he just dropped his flask, whipped around, pulled his right arm back, and unleashed an instinctive punch right on the side of Dorian’s nose.

He staggered back, bringing his hand to his face; his fingers came back bloody. The other man sniffled, but it did nothing to stop the sluggish flow from his nostril.

He glared at it for a moment, but then laughed. “Oh, it’s definitely still in you, Hook,” he snarled, glancing up with a wicked grin. “It never leaves.”

“What is?” Killian demanded.

Dorian jumped into his personal space. “The darkness,” he hissed. “Admit it: part of you is fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.”

Killian shoved him away. “Fuck. Off,” he bit out, but he knew he was talking to his own doubts and worries just as much as he was to Dorian.

“You can’t deny it,” Dorian told him cockily. “It’s always going to be a part of you. Each of us has heaven and hell in him.”

If Killian had been thinking straight, he’d have remembered Dorian was talking about that shred of the Dark One deep within; but with the way his day had gone, all he heard was that he hadn’t truly changed—not enough.

“You know I’m right. I can fucking feel it.”

Killian glanced down and saw a tempest forming in his palm; he wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or the waning light, but he swore he saw hints of black within, much like when he was the Dark One.

“Tell me, brother: how much blood has that hook spilled?” he prodded.

“Apparently not enough,” Killian spat back, grabbing Dorian’s lapel with his hand pressing the tip of his hook to the other man’s jugular; he could hear the metal scraping against his stubble.

“Do it. I fucking dare you. See what everyone thinks when you’ve murdered me in cold blood.”

“If only that would work. But I get the impression you’d find a way to weasel yourself out of death.”

“Something we’ve both done.”

“No.” Again, he pushed Dorian away, rejecting such selfish similarities. He wasn’t that man anymore—right?

“You can try to deny it, but the facts speak for themselves.”

Killian blinked back tears of frustration. No—he’d come too far from the man he once was—had done so much to make amends—and yet—and yet—

It wasn’t enough. No matter what he did, he’d always be Hook first to everyone.

He glanced down at his namesake appendage. It glinted in the waning light, almost taunting him.

With a dejected cry, he twisted the tool out of its socket, yanked it from its brace, and threw it with all his force at the deck; the point stuck in the wood.

“That doesn’t change anything and you know it,” Dorian taunted, lighting another cigarette.

He was right; it didn’t. But what would anymore?

Rain started to fall on them despite it being a clear evening; the way it sparked against his skin told him it was his own magic overreacting to his emotional turmoil. Oddly, though, it just sizzled against Dorian as he stared on, unfazed; it didn’t even touch the ember at the end of his cigarette.

Killian’s heart was racing and it felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack; he hadn’t had one of those in over a century. His vision blurred and it got hard to breathe, and he could feel his magic racing through his veins. He needed—he needed—he needed Emma.

The next thing he knew he was standing in their bedroom at home, sopping wet, and the room was beginning to spin.

He fell to his knees on the rug beside the bed as stars began to swim in his vision; he could still see effulgent blue in the veins of his hand, but faded from where it was a moment ago.

“Killian?” Emma was on the floor in front of him, worry furrowing her brow. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I—” he gasped, but had no idea what to say.

A sudden rush of fatigue took hold, anyway; his eyes refused to stay open any longer, and he was aware of his arm buckling underneath him as he fell forward.

The last thing he heard was Emma frantically calling his name before darkness took over.

Good. That was what he deserved.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・🗡・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Emma was trying to process…whatever the hell was going on. Why had her husband just appeared out of nowhere in their room, soaking wet, and promptly passed out in her lap?

Regina had texted earlier, letting her know that his lesson had been a little rough, so she knew to at least expect him in a stormy mood. But not to look like he’d been caught in an actual tempest.

His hook was missing, and she could see light fading in the veins at his neck as his magic receded; she still had to ask Regina or Gold why his powers did that. But he didn’t appear to have any other injuries; he’d probably just used too much magic at once and overexerted himself. (She’d definitely done that a few times.)

His brow twitched when she pushed the hair out of his eyes, but he didn’t move otherwise. She knew she should let him rest, but if something was wrong, she needed to know.

But first, she dried him off with a wave of her hand; the subsequent sparking that appeared all along his body in reaction to her magic told her that whatever downpour he’d been caught in was one of his own creation. (That and the fact that she hadn’t seen a cloud all day.)

She’d hoped to rouse him in a more gentle way, but his eyes flew open at the shocks; that was probably hard to sleep through, even if he’d been completely unconscious a moment ago.

“Hey; you okay?” she asked as his eyes darted around from where he was still laying on her thighs, until they finally settled on hers. The normal clear and bright blue was edging on a turbulent grey—a good tell of where he was mentally.

He suddenly jolted upright and then scurried away from her; not far, but enough that there was some distance between them, and he was facing away from her.

He was sitting with his legs bent up, arms resting on his knees, and was staring at his hand, turning it over to look at both front and back—and it was shaking.

“Killian?” she asked quietly. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” he said on a breath.

Knowing him, that was probably hyperbole, but it was clear he wasn’t in a good place, mentally or emotionally. Normally, she’d check to see if he needed space, but he’d already had that tonight and he’d come home (or, at least, his magic had brought him here) for a reason.

Slowly, she got up and moved over to him. He didn’t notice her barefoot steps on their plush rug, so she whispered “hey” when she got close, before she gently took his hand in hers.

He tried to pull his hand away but she held on tight. Then he glanced up at her, eyes watery, but still apparently speechless.

“What happened?” she asked as she knelt in front of him. “Talk to me.”

“How can you even touch me, love?” he replied. “After everything I’ve done?”

She made a mental note to call Archie as she wiped a tear from his cheek; he’d come a long way from where he used to be in regards to self-loathing, but still regularly wrestled with his guilt. “Because I love you, that’s why. Pretty sure that’s well-established, certified by the gods and all.” She pressed a kiss to the back of his unsteady hand. “And you’ve come so far from where you used to be; you’re not that man anymore, I promise you.”

“I had thought so, too, but I’m not so sure anymore.”

It didn’t take any further prodding for him to tell her what had happened that day—his growing frustration with the way the town was giving him the cold shoulder thanks to Dorian’s shenanigans; how that affected his lesson with Regina and their subsequent conversations; and then the confrontation he’d just had with Dorian on his ship, including their physical altercation and his rejection of his hook (which answered that question). He held onto her hand like an anchor through the whole thing; she just listened and gradually lowered herself until she was sitting next to him.

“What if I haven’t done enough?” he finally asked her, voice thick. “He’s right—I will always be fighting against my baser instincts. It’s constantly there, simmering beneath the surface. It’s easy enough to ignore when we’re just going about our daily lives, but when tensions rise—when things get unstable—I don’t know that I’ll make the right decisions. And, Swan,” he continued, “I know I love you more than life itself; why isn’t that enough for me to overcome it?”

Well, shit; that was pretty heavy. But they’d both gotten used to helping ease each other’s burdens.

She pulled his hand into her chest and turned on her rear to face him. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but yeah, you are always going to be fighting against it. You were in the dark for a long time; that’s always going to be a part of you.” He visibly swallowed at that, and she perhaps slightly regretted that choice of words when it came to, y’know, the actual piece of the Darkness that was supposedly inside of them somewhere. Anyways. “It won’t be easy—just ask Regina; she’ll probably tell you it’s a constant choice. And no, you might not always make the right one, but guess what? I won’t either; we both have a long track record of just that. I know my experience was a bit different, but I remember what it was like, with the Dark One whispering my deepest desires in my ear—and enabling them. But we wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you hadn’t already proved you’re capable of rising above all that.”

He blinked and sniffed. “Logically, I know all that. But deep down…what if I fail, Emma? What if I succumb to that again?”

“Why would you?” she countered easily. She couldn’t imagine any scenario where he—either of them—would risk losing everything they had now to pursue anything that could place them on a darker path, other than something drastic.

Which, of course, was exactly what he was imagining; should have known that someone who had literally lived through the worst things possible would very quickly find themselves reliving that, or envisioning worse. She could feel his magic sparking against her palm as his emotions began to spiral again.

“Hey—no,” she said firmly, cupping his face with her hand to make him look at her before he could follow that train of thought further. “Nothing is gonna happen.”

“You can’t confidently say that, Emma.”

“And yet, I just did,” she winked, hoping to lighten the mood. He gave a tiny smile back; she took it as a win. “And if for whatever reason you ever did go that way again—well, I’m not so pure and light either, regardless of my savior status. I’m not going anywhere; I will always be at your side.”

His eyes bored into hers and she was expecting some grandiose statement of love, but instead, he surged forward, finding her lips with his own. Well. She recognized well enough when actions spoke louder than words.

She leaned into the kiss without hesitation, her free hand drifting down to his chest. He still held tight to her hand but used his left arm to pull her into his lap, which she promptly straddled. He had a death grip on her whole being and was hardly giving her room to breathe, but she wasn’t complaining; she’d let him have whatever he wanted.

When they did finally come up for air, he gasped out, “Emma; I—I need—”

“What?” Her voice was just as breathless.

“I need to feel…” he whispered, eyes squinted shut.

“Tell me.”

He opened his eyes, and frantic blue was looking out. “Good.”

“You are good,” she reminded him.

“I just…I need you.” He sounded desperate.

“Always.”

They made quick work of their clothes in tandem; wherever he touched her as he helped her undress, sparks danced along her skin. Once she slid his shirt and vest off of his shoulders, she had to bite back a gasp at the way his veins glowed from within all across his body. She stared at it for a moment, but he didn’t let her linger long, gently guiding her chin back up to claim her lips again.

Awkwardly, they shimmied out of their pants (but they were used to that being a bit unpolished in their usual hunger for each other) and fell against their mattress side-by-side. She was about to ask how he wanted it, until he wrapped his arms around her and rolled on top.

But he hesitated, even though he was hovering above her (and she was more than ready for him). “What?”

“Can I…?” It wasn’t hard for her to tell what he was asking. They usually kept things fairly reciprocal in the bedroom, but every so often, for whatever reason, one or the other would take the lead. Given that Killian was feeling somewhat out of control at the moment, she knew what he was asking.

“Of course,” she answered, reaching up to cup his neck and toy with the short hairs at the nape of it; he seemed to melt a bit at her touch. “Take what you need.”

His expression softened, and he again kissed her lips as he carefully lowered his hips against hers.

There was no formal foreplay—he was too anxious, and frankly, she was already worked up—but the way his length brushed against her folds as he began to move above her felt divine and had her eager for more.

His leather brace was cold against her increasingly flushed skin where he rested it along her side, but his hand was warm where it gripped her waist. They hadn’t yet broken the kiss, but he came close a few times—either from his own growing arousal, which she was increasingly aware of, or from the play of her fingers through the hair of both his head and his chest. The way his veins continued to pulse incandescently was tell-tale, too.

Finally, he did pull back a bit, but not much—only just enough to give her a little breathing room (not that she wanted any). He sat back on his haunches and stroked himself, but the way his hand was shaking was visible.

So she propped herself up on one arm and stilled his trembling hand with her steady one. “Let me?”

He closed his eyes, somewhere between frustration and gratitude, and nodded. “Aye.”

Gently, keeping her hand around his, she helped him get the rest of the way to hard—which didn’t take long, but long enough for her to admire the wrecked look on his face and the way his long lashes sat on his cheekbones. Then she guided him to her entrance; he needed no help pressing in, though. (But she wrapped her legs around his waist, anyway.)

For a moment, they both adjusted to the feel of him being inside her; she never tired of the perfect way he filled her (both physically and emotionally). He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, looking down at her with not a small amount of lust, but there was still some trepidation in there.

“You are a wonderful man, Killian Jones,” she murmured, cupping his cheek. “And I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he said on a breath, then pressed himself closer as he began to move.

She figured at the outset, she’d have been the one loving on him; and yet, here they were, with him sucking kisses into the most sensitive parts of her neck as he continued to pull out and press in, delivering the best kind of friction that had her steadily climbing to her peak.

She’d never had as giving a lover as Killian, and in her experience, those were few and far between. In her opinion, that said enough about what kind of man he was.

He picked up his pace as they both chased release; she urged him on, pressing her heels into his lower back. “Emma—are you—?”

“Almost,” she breathed.

He reached between them and found her clit (seriously—he was on another level), massaging it gently, but she still gasped at the sensation. How he was able to work it without losing his rhythm was a mystery to her, but she was the farthest thing from complaining.

“I’m—I’m—” she stuttered, approaching her apex.

“Come for me, love,” he whispered, and she did, with a cry and a jolt—literally.

It felt like her every neuron was lit up as she hit orgasm—which wasn’t unusual, but the fact that her magic was humming beneath her skin was new. Tiny pinpricks of electricity sparked along her spine and through her veins, then danced at her fingertips.

With the way she was gripping his shoulders as she fell into oblivion, she hoped she wasn’t hurting him—from either her grasp or her magic. But he didn’t seem to give any indication of discomfort as he found his own release a few moments later.

Once she caught her breath, her eyes fluttered open to look up at him—and her breath was immediately stolen again, because he was entirely alight, the blue glow of his magic shining from within. She wasn’t sure if the sheen on his skin was sweat or an expression of his own water powers, but each drop was almost fluorescent.

She brushed his wet (again) hair from where it hung in his face; there was again a reaction when her own inherent electricity met his personal precipitation. His eyes flew open at her touch, and even his irises seemed to be lit from within.

“What is it?” he asked softly, his eyes darting back and forth as he studied her face.

“Just…look at you,” she told him. “You’re incredible.”

His brow furrowed in confusion, but then he glanced down at himself. He stilled at first, but then slowly sat back (pulling himself out in the process) and held his arms out in front of him, staring.

At first, she couldn’t quite tell if he was in awe or shock; there was an unusual lack of expression on his face as he studied himself and the magic flowing through his veins, glowing especially bright under his breast—at his heart.

He clenched his hand into a fist and closed his eyes. She propped herself up on her elbows as she watched…whatever he was doing. It still seemed like he wasn’t sure—until she saw his jaw clench in a determined way.

Not just that—no, he suddenly seemed confident.

The beads of water all along his skin seemed to glow brighter for a second, then lifted away from him. Slowly, they began to twist and swirl, circling Killian and coalescing into one spiral of luminescent liquid.

Few things she could recall looked more beautiful.

The coil of water made a few more revolutions before snaking away—towards the bathroom, she realized; of course, he’d be conscientious about cleaning up his mess (they’d deal with the other one later).

The glow under his skin had faded as the physical evidence of his magic disappeared, but a different kind replaced it: he opened his eyes—and grinned.

“Believe me now?” she asked—a bit smug, but mostly proud and just so, so in love.

“Aye, I think I do,” he answered; she thought he was being unusually modest, especially when he scratched behind his ear, but then he was glancing up at her through his lashes, gaze filled with lust. “But maybe you could remind me again?”

“Mm, I think that can be arranged.”

Round Two was just as magical. (So was Round Three.)

Some time later, calm and sated, they fell into bed again, but this time for rest. She was tucked into his side, her hand resting over his heart on his bare chest, and he was holding her close.

“Thank you, Swan,” he murmured as she began to drift off.

“For what?”

“For helping me come back to myself.”

She tilted his head to face her. “Always. But I hope you don’t need it as often now.”

“I hope so too, but—”

She stopped him mid-sentence by pressing a finger to his lips. “Uh-uh. No buts. Do you honestly think a selfish man would have made me come four times tonight?”

He chuckled. “I suppose not.”

“You are one of the best people I know, Killian, and it’s because you once weren’t that makes you so good now—you’ve walked that path, you know what it was like, and you learned what not to do. Nothing and no one can change that.”

“No, I don’t think they can,” he agreed. “Not as long as I have you by my side.”

She cupped his cheek. “Well, I’m not going anywhere, but you don’t need me. Remember—I know what your heart looks like, and it is the brightest red.”

“There’s a bit of black.”

“A bit. The part that kept you alive long enough for us to find each other. And the part that’s a reminder of how far you’ve come. Don’t ever forget that, okay?”

“I won’t.”

She pressed a kiss against his lips and settled her head on his chest (her favorite pillow). “Good. I love you.”

“I love you too, darling. Eternally.”

“Same. Now stop being melodramatic and go to sleep.”

He laughed again—she loved the feel of its vibration under her cheek—but complied, and they both drifted into a peaceful sleep.

And hopefully, that was the last time she had to convince him that he was no longer defined by his past. They’d certainly had that conversation before, but this one had a sense of finality—of closure.

Whatever lay ahead—whatever Dorian had planned—it was even more unlikely to succeed now.

And that was the comforting thought that put her to sleep.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・🗡・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Back on the ship, Dorian stood over where his twin’s hook still sat lodged in the deck. He was smirking, and frankly impressed with himself.

He knew he’d have to get his hands on it at some point, but hadn’t expected it to be this easy. A piece of metal that had been touched by all three former Dark Ones? (Everyone knew the story of Hook attempting to stab Rumpelstiltskin with his namesake appendage, and he’d seen the sheriff touch it more than once.) A rare thing to come by but crucial to his plan.

He extinguished his cigarette on the ship’s railing, leaving the ashes behind, then knelt down to inspect it. So unassuming, but so much potential.

He fished a handkerchief from an inner pocket of his coat and wrapped it around the curved metal. It took more force than he anticipated to free it from the wood, but once he did, he tucked it in his jacket and then transported himself away, back to the room he was squatting in.

While that was an important ingredient, it wasn’t all he needed to complete the spell. Obviously, blood was required, and there was still the matter of getting at their souls, but progress was progress.

Though the night was young, it was definitely past closing time for most businesses, so his next step would have to wait a bit. He’d seen another bar that day that looked to be less trite than the Rabbit Hole; it’d be good enough to spend an evening.

He took out the hook and put it in the drawer of the bedside table, ignoring the overflowing ashtray atop it, then placed a locking spell on it that only he could undo (he wasn’t fool enough to think a blood lock might hold, even if Killian was nowhere near that kind of magic yet).

Tomorrow, he’d keep moving forward. Tonight, he’d just have fun.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・🗡・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

thanks for reading! tagging some peeps (let me know if you do/don’t want a tag!) @kat2609 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy@mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @wistfulcynic @pirateherokillian @colinoeyebrows @wingedlioness @word-bug @thisonesatellite @killianmesmalls @thejollyroger-writer @ineffablecolors @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubblesandwich @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis @scientificapricot @searchingwardrobes @donteattheappleshook @jrob64 @the-darkdragonfly @stahlop @klynn-stormz @resident-of-storybrooke @bluewildcatfanatic

#cs ff #cssns 2023 #killian jones ff #captain swan supernatural summer #sons of love and death #chapter eight #major CS fic rec ❤️⚓️❤️#such a talented shipmate💕💖💕#@spartanguard

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