#monster fucker and villain enjoyer what can I say?

[randomshipperhere]

This was one hc that I never really let go in the JSE fandom.

Anti pretty much hates every single one of Jack’s egos but “loves” the viewers.

The reasoning may vary from person to person but that’s the hc.

[mostfuckableffvillain]

Round 2 - Eliminations

This week we say goodbye to Golbez, Sorceress Adel, Yunalesca, Yu Yevon, Vata, Orphan, Sephiroth, and Judge Drace. There were some close fights, we lost some heavy hitters, but that's the way it goes!

Congratulations to Angeal Hewley, Jack Garland, Reno of the Turks, Barbariccia, Seifer Almasy, Estinien Varlineau, Emet-Selch, and Shuyin! We look forward to seeing you in Round 3!

Keep reading below for some of the reasons these guys were nominated in the first place:

Golbez >A caster in full plate with daddy issues? What /isn't/ fuckable about that? >Have you seen him under the armor >big guy >he's a very sweet and caring man at heart with big muscles and fantastic magic. plus that ARMOR man…. the way it accentuates his body shape? WOOF >I don't care if this man has all that armor in the way (armor hot anyways) there is melancholy and sadness behind that man that makes me think he deserves to be pegged. Also long hair bonus when unarmored

Sorceress Adel >Giant lady >I love a woman who can kick my ass >androgynous woman swag >Massive buff muscle lady who also does body horror 👌😳 >big woman…….. she makes me horny AND feel gender things

Lady Yunalesca >(and Jecht) Tiddies for both I am an equal opportunity tiddy enjoyer >should she wear more clothes, yes. however: her hair becomes a golden tentacle skull skirt, and then she turns into a giant skull medusa head. she slaps you to dispel effects. i rest my case. >She bites >Tentacles…

Vata >You wanna talk about sexual tension with the protagonist

Sephiroth >It's Sephiroth. >Everything >sephiroth >I’m so sorry for submitting sephiroth. But have you seen his safer sephiroth form. Also the fact that he’s like actually genuinely insane. Hot of him tbh. Listen one man’s mommy issues are another man’s kink, and baby? I’m ready to capitalise on that. Also I like long hair 👉👈 >I dont need to explain this one >I am also sorry for submitting Sephiroth. But please understand. He was my gay awakening as a kid, and then later my straight awakening as a trans. >I don't think I have to explain this tbh >His devotion to JENOVA, his strength and aura. His long beautiful silver/white hair, his hypnotizing cat eyes, his non intentional sexual quotes. EVERYTHING!!! >Well. he's sephiroth. i strongly doubt you need any more clarification >Tall, canonically dominating, strong af, can fly, canonically can throw anyone across the room (onto a bed), will absolutely pursue you across the universe until you give him what he wants AND THAT SWISHY SILKY SILVER HAIR! Absolutely versatile for everyone in various forms (even, gags monster fuckers).

Judge Drace >idk if I'd qualify her as a villain but. strong woman…………. h…..

[blackcatanna]

I have completed The Mandalorian and now I shall proclaim to the mostly-porn-bots who follow me... MY THOUGHTS:

(I shall assume that this silence is one of awe and anticipation)

FIRSTLY, I would like to give an oscar to that one security officer who gave such delightfully distressed facial expressions before their ship was commandeered by Mandalorians and he was unceremoniously shot by his commanding officer.

In fact, bravo to that whole crew for stunning levels of Imperial Incompetence, one of my favourite Star Wars tropes. BUT SPECIAL SHOUT OUT to that one guy who was so pleased with himself for locking the Mandalorians in with the cargo hold controls... Until he and all his men were flushed out of the ship like shiny Imperial turds.

Next on the agenda is The Evil Dubstep Troopers. They were cool and scary until we saw Luke Skywalker force-juice one like it was a fucking lemon.

Side note: Grogu needs to work on choosing his moments to use his motherfucking force powers. Maybe on Moff Gideon, for example. Although, it was enjoyable watching him choke Cara for no reason, if only because of who she was played by.

Speaking of the force-gremlin, watching him mercilessly devour that frog-lady's offspring was excellent. I kept bouncing between expressions of horror and maniacal cackling.

I have mentioned The Spider Monsters in a previous post. I like spiders but those fuckers were revolting. Congratulations to whoever cane up with that nightmare-fuel.

LOVE Queen Armourer. I was so happy she was not purged. She is a very cool lady. I was afraid that she was resigned to a noble death in battle until she started THONKING Storm Troopers with her forge tools.

When Queen Fennec got shot by that irritating space twink, I was very disappointed... But so very happy when she returned! Nothing more to say here. I just think she's neat.

Evil Elspeth was also great. I enjoyed her constant state of barely contained maniacal glee, her commitment to The Evulz and I loved watching her day being ruined. An excellent villain. We stan.

Bo Katan seems like she's wandered into the wrong genre. All of her grandiose talk about reclaiming Mandalore and the dark saber and blah blah blah yes, I need to watch the animated stuff and I did enjoy many of her badass moments but she often comes across as kind of a dick but not in a fun way. I have spoken.

I was real sad when Kuiil died. I wish that IG-11 had stayed around longer, too. It would've been nice to see the droid continuing Kuiil's legacy.

I'm starting to realise that I like Imperials a bit too much... Obviously, in universe, they're a terrifying and powerful force of evil but, on screen, it's just so fun to watch them adorably flail from one inevitable disaster to the next!They feel like the underdogs because we know they can't win but it's so cute to watch them try :') Also, I'm biased because of the accents.

Although, Moff Gideon pisses me off because he just struts about in the middle of things with no helmet on or even his legendary dark saber out for protection and yet no one ever thinks to shoot, grenade or whistling bird him? Or force choke him? Even though the whole idea at the end of the first season was to cut off the head of the snake to protect Grogu.

Pedro Pascal as Din is EVERYTHING. I don't know what more I can say. It is so refreshing to watch a show with a lead who's so quiet.

Frog Lady. I love her. She will be best frog mumma! She gives me Wind in the Willows vibes in her cute little outfit.

I don't know her name but I have so much love for the Tatooine mechanic lady and her cymbals-looking pop-up droids. When Din was sent back to Tatooine, I was disappointed but then THIS QWEEN WAS BACK. I love her. She was right about Frog Lady!

Is that woozle sentient? I don't know what it's called. The thing that Cara rescued from the forge. It is super cute. What are the ethics around eating other species in Star Wars land? Is there a Harkness test but for eating instead of fucking?

I loved that whole bit with those two dickhead scout troopers waiting for orders while Moff Gideon threw his weight around murdering officers for no reason (a time honoured Imperial tradition, seemingly). And they hit Grogu so it also felt good when they were exploded by IG. A fun ride from beginning to end.

I could watch Grogu mash Stormtroopers about all day, honestly. Again, he might want to consider targeting Moff Gideon because that would be even more funny. I hope that Season 3 begins with Grogu murdering the shit out of Moff Gideon in a hilarious and adorable fashion. And then eating his corpse (he must've been a good villain, since I am so eager for his grisly demise).

Mando and Grogu X murder is my otp.

That crazy blue twi'lek was chewing the scenery hard and I loved every second of it. RIP Davan.

Fucking Jawas...

I can't believe I forgot to mention my top three SLORPS of the series! 3. The Evil Dubstep Troopers getting slorped into space when Din opened the airlock. 2. Grogu slorping up motherfucking everything. 1. Our winner! That Mandalorian woman with the cool hair slorping the everloving SHIT out of that gross looking worm thing in her chowder. YOU DO YOU, QWEEN.

Congratulations to the creators for making a AT-ST scary again, after the Ewok incident.

[bunslakes-artblog]

Small collection of bnha stuff I’ve written

Ok so I am not a story writer, I can’t write a full story that is enjoyable to read. However, I do like to write specific scenes, try to convey a mood, or just write down scenarios that have been floating around in my head. This is probably not the the most convenient-to-read format, but I don’t have an accound for any fanfic sites or anything so..  Here I have put together some stuff I have written down, I think you could class all of them as angst lol. It’s kiribaku, but could be read as platonic in most cases too. 

These are all written like little extractions from fics (that don’t excist other than said extraction), so don’t expect a full story coming or anyhting. I’ll try to explain some context to each one if I feel it’s needed though. Warning: super long text under the cut

This first one is so over  the top angsty it’s almost funny, but here goes (context plus some extra in cursive at the end): The last piece of concrete was lifted by a light tap from Uraraka’s fingertips and the rescue group could finally see into the small space they had been working for hours to find and uncover after the building had collapsed during the battle with the villain. All Might was standing by the opening, blocking most of the view, but Midoriya could still catch a glimpse of what had been trapped in there. He almost recoiled when he was pierced with a crimson gaze, colder and sharper than an iron rod to the heart. Kacchan. He'd been in the center of the action when the building had collapsed, fighting side by side with- "Young Bakugo! Worry not for I-" All Might stopped himself from finishing his sentence, and Midoriya could see why. Bakugo was sitting, leaning against a broken piece of wall and rubble, the furthest into the small space. He was covered in small scrapes and cuts, hero costume torn, his body tense, face exhausted. Dried teartracks that had drawn visible lines over his dusty cheeks. And in his arms, leaning back to his chest, Kirishima. Bakugos arms were tightly wrapped around his upper body in an embrace, his head nuzzled in the dip between the redheads shoulder and neck. It would've been a tender view, if it wasn't for the redhead's unmoving chest. His pale skin. His almost closed, blank eyes. 

It had been hours since the building collapsed, since the rest of the class and teachers were able to start digging for survivors.. Midoriya felt the dread sink its cold claws into his gut. All Might looked like he was about to say something, but stopped when Bakugo's arms hugged the lifeless body they were cradling a little tighter, his eyes suddenly burning white hot, most of his face still buried in the crook of his friends neck. "How dare you- How fucking DARE you show up now, when it's too late. When it's been too late for HOURS." Bakugos voice was low, cracked and rough like gravel from the emotional strain it'd been through. But it cut through the silence like a blade. The class had gotten involved with another villain attack and Bakugo and Kirishima had been fighting together inside the building while it collapsed. They got trapped in the small space under a fallen supporting beam that kept the rest of the rubble from crushing them. Or well, most of them. Bakugo had got off lightly compared to his friend who he found gasping for air in his arms once the dust had settled. They had been in there for a long time and both were noticing how difficult it was becoming for the redhead to breathe. How soft his voice had become. And there were still vague sounds from the battle outside, so rescue was still far away. Bakugo had already overused his quirk and could not let out any explosions without risking hurting Kirishima even more, so the only thing left to do was to sit still, wait, and hope.

  Bakugo would try to keep Kirishima talking, terrified of the silence. Kirishima would be terrified too, not wanting to leave Bakugo alone in this small space with his dead body, knowing he’d be trapped in there for a long time before getting rescued. In an attempt to comfort them both, Kirishima had been gently massaging Bakugos strained palms, and Bakugo had had to sit there and feel Kirishima's grip getting softer and softer until the hands laid limp in his own. After the last breath had left his friends body, hed cried, yelled, cursed, cried some more and then some. But eventually tears run out and he was still trapped in there, now completely alone. The only thing he could think of to do was hugging the body in his arms, trying to keep the warmth from slipping out. And he had to stay in there like that for hours before rescue finally came.

This next one is kind of strangely written. Sometimes I like writing super vague and avoiding to talk too much about the characters, and more about what they feel and experience. Trying to show who’s perspective we are reading from just based on context clues. But to be clear, the first chunk is from Kirishima’s perspective and the second is Bakugo.  The main thing here was just that I wanted to write about being trapped and abandoned for a very long time with no contact with hte outside world. Kind of tuning in to pure survival instinct and so on. There’s no context to this, I don’t know who or why he was captured or how, it jsut is how it is haha.  Every gap in the text is a timeskip. How long a timeskip is is not really the point, but it could be anyhting from hours to like a week. 

He had lost count of the days he’d been held there. Not that it was hard to, the complete lack of access to the real world made it more or less impossible to keep track of the passage of time. It was just him, alone in a windowless cube, a wooden rectangle sticking out from the wall to sleep on, a door with a tiny slot to push food through, and a bucket in a corner. It was just him, his only company being the rare sound of the slot opening and the scraping of the tray as it got pushed into his cell. No talking. He'd stopped talking to himself. Run out of things to say. He'd stopped hallucinating the sound of distant explosions getting closer and closer, stopped imagining the heavy door getting blasted open, blessing him with fresh air from the outside, and the sun. God he had almost forgotten what the sun felt like. What natural light looked like. What the voices of his friends sounded like. Their faces. Only a name with a vague blurry face shape to accompany it. He'd lost count of the weeks. No one was coming. The silence was unbearable. It was like pressure on his ears. The isolation was driving him insane. He'd laid by the door-slot, waiting for it to open, just to perhaps at least catch a glimpse of a hand, a sign of another human being. He'd lay on the floor in front of the door, watching the slot open, over and over. Nothing. No one. He can't stand it. Anything is better than this. No one is coming. He has to get himself out. Warmth and the taste of iron and salt fills his mouth. For a moment his hunger takes over and he bites down harder. The pain quickly takes over though and he lets out a whimper. Everything slowly fades. It hurt. The pulsating hot pain under the sloppy wrapping around his wrist, and the cold, piercing pain in his mouth. His tongue wouldn't stop running over the empty spaces and broken, filed down points that had once been his teeth. Failure. Weakling. They were not letting him go. No one was coming. It's so dark. There had been a distant rumble. The ground shook. Something deep inside him tugged at his heart, tried to revive a distant memory. A connection his brain wanted to make. An association. The smell of burnt sugar. Hope?  The feeling didn't last long though since soon after the rumbling had begun, the artificial lights went out and his world became absolute darkness. In the beginning panic was the only thing he felt. He couldn't see. He didn't understand. What had happened? The air felt dusty, still and old. And it was so quiet. He didn't get used to the darkness. This wall of black right in front of his eyes at all times. He didn't understand. The meals had stopped coming. Not that they came very often before, but now they were nowhere to be seen at all. Abandoned. Forgotten. Left to rot. No one was coming. The air is so thick. Old. Same. He can almost taste himself with every breath. Disgusting. He doesn't know when he's sleeping and when he's not. It all looks the same. Black. Moving is hard. He doesn't know what his limbs are doing. He can't see. He accidentally tipped over the bucket when weakly fumbling for it in the dark, spilling the contents over the floor. Disgusting. Putrid. Unspeakable. Sobbing, he crawled back up on his bunk. He didn't go on the floor anymore. Liquid. His dry lips are pressed against the wall, trying to soak up every last drop of what's slowly trickling down the uneven surface. There had been a crack, the first sound since the horrible wet clash of the bucket, and he'd breathed in a mouthful of dust. Then he'd felt it. Cool against his fingers. Slowly trickling. Wet. That tug in his heart is there again. Fainter than ever, making a last attempt. He can't do anything else than keep pressing his lips against the wall, absorbing every last drop of hope. It was becoming almost unbearable to force himself to breathe. He was so tired. Felt so heavy. Nothing to breathe but dust and stench. No one was coming. He was just going to sleep for a little while. Finally. Finally they found it. The place they'd been tirelessly searching for for months. His body was out of shape, exhausted from endless sleepless nights dedicated to searching, because dammit, they had taken HIM. Those fuckers. Those absolute evil monsters. They were his. He felt his body preparing to give it its all now when they'd finally found their target. The attack had been successful, executed with the element of surprise in their favour, along with pretty much the whole class, all the teachers plus some other pros. And he'd been in the lead, blasting anything that moved, sometimes even if it didn't. Like a machine he'd plowed through corridors upon corridors, searching for the only thing that mattered to him. Nothing yet. "Th-the basement. You ha-have to.. it collapsed" "WHAT? WHAT DO YOU MEAN COLLAPSED? IS THERE ANYTHING DOWN THERE??" he was getting impatient. Impatient and scared. He hadn't found him yet. And all the captives had been rescued. Where the fuck had they hid him? He refused to even consider the unthinkable. He WAS here. Somewhere. "Don't shake the victim, are you crazy?!" The annoying voice of some adult shouted. He let out an irritated “tch” but let go of the shaking, thin human. The adult took over listening to what the rescued had been trying to say. "The basement.. it's where they kept.. where they kept the struggling one. The one who wouldn't stop fighting.." A wall of rubble. Impossible to get through. There must've been an earthquake or something with equal force that caused this massive disaster. They couldn't get down. And it looked like no one had been able to for a very long time. He could feel hope run out. Quickly. His chest tightening, making it hard to breathe. But he dug. God it's so dark. The air almost impossible to breathe, having been still and filled with dust for so long. His heart was racing with horrification. Was he here, in this complete, silent darkness? This hell of isolation? "When did this happen?" "I-i don't.. days.. weeks ago?" That's what the rescued person had said. Fuck. His explosions was barely enough to light the floor in front of him. He walked quickly, every step echoing in the earnumbing silence. There was a door at the end of the hallway. The glimpse he'd gotten of the horrifyingly small cube of a room before getting pulled away had been enough. His head was screaming. Stomach tying itself into a hard, cold knot. Throat tighter than it'd ever been. It had been complete darkness when he'd swung open the heavy door, followed by the stench, hitting him like a wall. Old, musty and way too over-recycled air, rot and something else he didn't want to think about. Then the lightbeam from the rescue torches had lit the scene for a moment. A small bare room, no windows, nothing on the walls or ceiling but some built-in fluorescent lights that had since long gone out. A mess in a corner. A crack in the wall with a small trail of water from some broken pipe trickling down, leading down to a wooden rectangle sticking out from said wall. And on it- "Oh no" That was all he had heard from the pro that had been right behind him before quickly being tugged away from the scene. His heart was still and cold in his chest. He couldn't comprehend what he'd seen in that room. The thin, boney figure on the bunk, lying, folded in on itself, looking so small, so fragile. The head pressed against the crack in the wall, the head covered in greasy, tangled, matted hair. Fading crimson red hair. He was throwing up, couldn't help himself, couldn't stop. Dry heaving on all fours, he felt a warm hand on his back, large, bony, familiar. Unwelcome. They had been too late. They had let this happen. They weren't worthy of calling themselves heroes. People. FRIENDS. He'd seen it when they were carrying him out, up to the surface. The filthy bandages that had almost slipped off the thin wrist that had once been strong and muscular. The badly stitched together bite marks. The glimpse of the demolished, once sharp teeth. Those fuckers had even denied him his last option to get himself out of there. Those fucking monsters.

His heart almost couldn’t take it anymore when he heard the medic’s voice gasping.

“There’s a pulse!”

You really are stupidly strong, aren’t you.

This one is not much of a story, but more a little “headcanon” I have for Unbreakable. I like to imagine Kirishima being able to reach deeper and deeper states of unbreakable, getting bigger and more rock like. This text is pretty much just a description of the very specific sound that a deep-state unbreakable could make.

At first it was just a feeling. A vague sensation of pressure, almost like airplane ear. The sensation grew and he could feel a low vibration in his ribcage, rumbling like an earthquake throughout his entire body and, or so it seemed, the ground as well. What the hell? Then it hit him. It's a noise. He can hear it now. It's so loud and in such a low pitch that it's more something to be felt than heard, but it's definitely there. A deep rumble, like rough boulders grinding against each other (not in a stupid metaphorical way, no, it was literally the sound of rock grinding against rock), coming from what felt like the ground itself. The strong arms holding him down loosened their grip for a brief moment, probably due to the surprising sound, and he took the opportunity to break himself free enough to look around. "Oh." That was all he could say. Where his friend had stood as he had gotten himself stupidly overpowered by the villain now tightening their grip once again, was now something he would never had believed was the same person unless he'd seen it before. Or at least a similar version of whatever this was. Skin no longer even remotely resembling its true soft self, the rough texture made him look like he'd been bluntly carved out directly from a cliffside. Every soft curve was replaced with hard, angular edges and sharp points. His friend, or he was almost sure it still was his friend in there, looked more like a living mountain than a person. And he was still emitting that sound, even though the stalactite filled cave that was once a mouth wasn't even open. No, this rumble came from his core, vibrating out from the chest, through the bones and into the ground. "A growl" he realized.

This is not a perfect representation of the sound I’m imaginiang but it’s sort of a combo of this and the first half-second of this. Or maybe a bit like this, but more rock-y sort of. These growls would be close mouth vocalisation, emmitting from deep withing the gut/chest. 

This last one is also about unbreakable, and has a bit more of my headcanon for it. I’m sort of thinking that the deeper Kirishima goes into unbreakable, the more one-tracked his mind gets, eventually running almost like a machine, carrying out each task (thought) the quickest, most convenient way before forming the new task. More on this at the end. 

The class is in the middle of a particularly heated sparring session, everyone having been divided into the hero- and villain half.

The arm reached out for Bakugo, ready to grab him. If it reached, it would all be over, and Bakugo doesn't have time to dodge. Being too caught up in the heat of the moment, reality slips for a moment and weeks worth of nightmares of villain hands grabbing for his friend, taking him away, killing him, floods his mind. No no no no no! Kirishima feels his unbreakable form deepen, and suddenly his mind can only keep in one track. "NO. DENY." A loud bang echoes through the training hall as rock-hard jaws slam together, stalagmite teeth snapping shut, leaving no gaps in-between. The world goes silent as an object goes flying, spinning, in a wide arc across the battleground with liquid drizzling behind it like a firework, faint traces of green lightning still sparking around it. The object collides with the wall with a thud and a small choked gasp can be heard from the projectiles source. Then the tense silence is further broken by a scream. "MIDORIYA!" Uraraka rushes to the green-haired boy who's now sitting slumped down on the ground, pale as a sheet, clearly in shock. More screams are heard around the hall as the other students start realizing what had happened. Blood is pouring from the stump ending right below the boys shoulder, the same blood that's dripping from the still closed, still harneded jaw, frozen in place. Kirishima's min is blank inside Unbreakable. His heart is racing and out of his control, he goes deeper and deeper into his hardening, choking himself, crushing- And suddenly it stops and he goes limp and falls to the ground. Aizawa had taken hold of the situation, canceled the red-head's quirk to stop him from panic-crushing himself, and then headed straight to pick up the mutilated boy who had started muttering incoherently, looking like he might pass out any second. Pretty much the whole class kept as much distance as they could from Kirishima as they followed their teacher carrying their classmate to recovery girl, fear, shock and confusion clearly visible on their faces. The whole class. Almost. Kirishima didn't know he was hyperventilating until he felt a grounding hand on his shoulder. Bakugo's hand. His head was spinning. What happened? His eyes dart around the area and they land on the object on the ground across the room. The arm. The taste of blood suddenly made itself very present and he brought both his hands up, tightly holding them over his mouth as he breathed shallow and hard from his nose. "Kirish- oh fuck." Bakugo placed his hand on the red-head's back and did his best to keep the red hair out of the way as Kirishima vomited on the floor. He kept going until he was just coughing up saliva and dry-heaving, tears flowing down his face, the warm hand still on his back rubbing soothing cirkles. "Sit down, put your head between your legs or you'll faint" Bakugo's voice said softly. When he had enough control over his breathing to speak, he managed to croak out; "I-.. Ididn't mean to- I thought- I didn't know-" the sobs were taking over again and Bakugo gently pulled him into a hug. "I know. I saw what happened. And-" he stroked Kirishima's hair "I know he saw it too. In your eyes. He won't hate you."

Ok so back to how I imagine unbreakable’s mind would work in this deep state. Kirishima’s last thought before hardening was to stop the hand from reaching Bakugo, which carried over into a more compressed, literal state once in unbreakable mode. Like a computer sort of his mind would now work like: stop hand - closest? mouth. - bite - task complete.  For visual reference, I imagine the movement when he turns to bite is similar to how Saitama bites the sword. Not this exact motion, but the same suddenness and power of it.  The way the arm flies away is similar to how Eren’s arm gets flung away when the titan eats him.

Poor Kirishima, imagine how bad he feels about hurting a friend so badly. Dw, they will probably be able to put Midoriya’s arm back again, it was bitten off cleanly and with this world’s technology, anything is possible. 

Okay, so if you’ve made it all the way to the end, thank you so much for taking the time to read my strange, “let’s see in how many ways we can hurt kirishima” angst texts! This is actually the first time I’ve written anyhting similar to fanfics. I don’t know if there will be more in the future, I guess I’ll see what people think of this first.. 

[katie-dub]

The Princess of White Chapel (12/12)

Dr Killian Jones is having a terrible day. He’s got a mission, he’s got a time machine, he’s got … drunk. What could possibly go wrong?

AO3 | Tumblr

Rated M for alcohol use, violence, minor character death, frank discussions of depression and grief.

I can’t believe we’re at the end - thank you to all of you for reading, to my betas, the ever fantastic @distant-rose and @ultraluckycatnd, and to the talented @princesse-swan for creating beautiful art for me.

Now, on with the show!

One Year Later

He was on a pirate ship, hand and hook on the ship’s wheel. The salty sea breeze felt good against his skin, soothing the heat of the hot, summer sun. Princess Emma was leaning against the railings, smiling brighter than any star in the sky and giggling as the breeze wafted her curls across her face.

Lily circled lazily overhead, on guard for attack from pirates, the Evil Queen, or the villain Rumplestiltskin. But those dark clouds on the horizon could not spoil this moment, for he was here with his love. He was at peace.

“Dr Jones, Dr Jones, calling Dr Jones!” Despite being fast asleep just moments ago, Killian's reactions were laser fast. His arm shot out and he answered the phone as he yanked it to his ear.

“I can send you to another bloody realm you know, Scarlet,” he growled. “Don’t test me.”

“Oh really?” Belle replied. He pulled the phone away from his ear to squint at it in confusion. Will’s face pouted up at him in a ridiculous kiss face.

“Why are you using Will’s phone?”

“Forgot to put mine on charge last night.”

“You never forget to put your phone on charge.” Killian could practically hear her blush at his unspoken accusation.

“Yeah, well, we were.. Um. Busy,” she blustered.

“Well, well, well Miss French. Find yourself busy with our dear Will often? If so, I'd suggest you get your jabs. You don't know where that boy's been.”

“Killian!” Belle was equal parts indignant and embarrassed. “What we - if I - look, if you're still coming to book group, can you bring that book you told me about?”

“I wouldn't miss it for the world.”

“Really? I thought you might feel a bit uncomfortable, what with the subject matter…”

He glanced over at his copy of Atonement on his nightstand. “Lovers cruelly torn apart before their love story had truly begun? Yeah, I know that feeling.”

“Sorry.” Killian felt as though he could hear Belle's wince through the phone. “Honestly, I'll understand if it's too much.”

“It's fine, love. The counselling is helping me to cope with everything. At least this couple got their happily ever after, if only in fiction.”

He briefly wondered what he and Emma’s fictional happy ending would have been. He could practically see it, him gazing at her in adoration as they said their vows, her radiant smile as he dipped her into their first kiss as husband and wife.

He realised that he hadn't been listening to Belle at all, caught up in a love story that could never be. “... Should I stop by your place on the way?”

“Sure, you can tell me all about how Will finally tricked you into accepting that date.”

“I heard that!” Will shouted in the background.

“I meant you to!” Killian called back.

Belle sighed. “I'll see you at 7.”

“Bye. Don’t do anything I wouldn't do.” He raised his voice. “And, yes, that includes Will.” He was expecting the sudden silence that greeted his words. He may give Belle a hard time, but he really was pleased that they'd finally got their act together.

His eyes flicked to the time on his phone. 8:15am. Too late to go back to sleep, but he didn't quite feel ready to leave the comfort of his bed behind and face the world.

Instead, he pulled up Facebook and scrolled through his feed.

Cute baby.

Cute baby.

Woah, seriously ugly baby. Bloody hell, what an unfortunate face, Killian thought to himself, swiping just a little faster away from the photo.

Robin Locksley shared a post from The Guardian:

A Crocodile in our Midst

“One year on from the appearance of the London Dragon, and the start of the Enchanted Disaster, we now know one man was behind it all. Robert Gold. Now that the scale of Gold’s influence and empire built on favours, deceit and corruption at the highest levels has been revealed, we ask; what lessons can we learn?”

He hesitated. Stared at the post long and hard. He should have known his feed would be full of stories like this today.

He couldn’t read it now. Perhaps he never would be able to. He’d been through enough in the past year, reporting to the Darling Inquiry, to the police, to the university.

He was finally in a better place. People finally knew what a monster Gold really was, had always been. He was working alongside Dr Smee at Imperial College London. He was getting out more. He was having regular sessions with Dr Hopper.

But still.

He sighed and continued to scroll.

Holiday photos.

Cute children.

Cute dog.

Cute baby.

Aurora Rosen shared a post from The Daily Mail “People are so mean!!! Leave this family alone!!!”:

‘Leave our princess in peace!’ plead Ashley and Sean Herman

Alexandra Herman stole all of our hearts as the face of the Enchanted Disaster, a beautiful little girl lost in another world. Her parents’ campaign for her safe return had a happy ending, but now that she is safely home, they beg for privacy.  

Cute baby.

Holiday photos.

Ironic “wish you were here” post of a dowdy living room presumably intended to get a laugh, but coming off a little too bitter.

Ruby Lucas shared a post from OK! Magazine UK “Get it girls ;)”:

A Royal Romance for Rapunzel

“Singer Rapunzel and Princess Elsa open up for the first time about how their shared ordeal kidnapped by Gold led to them finding love.”

So many people had been brought together by the strange happenings in town, and what did he have to show for it? Two pictures on his wall. Emma’s sketch of a swan and the recent painting he’d done of a swan on the Thames that had made him smile. The first painting he’d done since she’d left that he actually thought worthy of hanging on the wall. Yes, it was lovely to feel that Emma had helped him to rediscover his love of painting, which gave him a link to both of his lost loves, but still... A painting couldn't ask about his day, couldn’t hold him at night, couldn’t borrow his phone when it forgot to charge its own phone because of their more enjoyable activities.

God he never thought he’d be jealous of Will bloody Scarlett.

Killian sighed and put his phone to one side. It was no good. Everything was making him think of Emma. It was still several hours until he had to be at their spot, he needed a better distraction than social media.

He’d been putting off deep cleaning his fridge. No time like the present.

***

He was at their spot and the sun was shining. It wasn’t the harsh, oppressive and overwhelming heat of the previous year, but instead a gorgeous sunny day.

He should have been grateful that on his and Emma’s day, the weather was glorious, but he felt angry. There should be storms raging, torrential rain, unnatural, unseasonable fog. Something, anything to show that the world understood what he had lost.

This resentment wasn’t a new feeling to him. He’d spent years biting his tongue at the way his friends prodded him about his love life or how an acquaintance would casually refer to the loss of Milah or at the sight of Gold. His short time with Emma and the healing that he’d done in the past year had helped him to not feel overwhelmed by it. On a normal day.

But today, it was all too much.

Twice he had loved wholly, honestly and truly; and twice that love and joy had been ripped from him.

He could see how much more to life there was than just romantic love now. His therapy had helped him to appreciate the richness and beauty in all aspects of his life. But he was a passionate man and he longed to share his heart with another. The absence of that love left an emptiness inside him that caused a deep ache if he dwelt on it for long, because whoever heard of lightning striking thrice?

The beautiful day made him feel like the world was taunting him. It was just so unfair. Where was the sense in anything that had happened? As he seethed, questions whirled through his mind, he could feel his wrath taking over. His muscles tensed, he clenched his teeth, his chest felt tight as the tempest grew.

No.

Not today.

He needed to reclaim today as a celebration of his short time with Emma. He couldn’t let his fury win.

He stared at the water and tried to remember the mindfulness exercises that Dr Hopper had taught him to help him to cope. Eyes unfocused. Deep breaths. Feel the bench beneath him. Listen to the sounds around him. Notice how he felt. Don’t try to change it. Accept it. Sit with his feelings.

He caught a glimpse of golden hair.

“Swan?”

The woman spun, he knew it wouldn’t be her. He’d done this so many times before. Especially in the beginning. She had magic. She was from an entire realm full of magic. She could find a way. She would… He’d always been disappointed.

“Yes?” Green eyes looked back at him. She had soft cheeks, a dimpled chin, she was perfect. She couldn’t possibly be real. Then she frowned at him. “Do I know you? Because you said my name and now you’re doing some kind of creepy stalker thing and I’m really not into that.”

“Are you Emma Swan?”

She held up her hands and stepped back from him. “Listen, buddy -”

Killian shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m being so weird. Um, you know the Enchanted Disaster that happened?”

“Yeah! Is it bad if I say that I thought it was cool as fuck? I may have snuck a niffler home. Kind of regretted that when the little fucker tore my purse to shreds looking for treasure.”

“OK, well, I met another you, from the Enchanted Forest.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“But I didn’t end up the other realm?”

“Not everyone switched places. Some people stumbled through portals. She was the first. Faced off against the London Dragon?”

“Oh god, I remember that! People kept asking where I’d learned how to do magic, didn’t like it when I said Hogwarts. But if you’re going to ask a dumb question...”

Killian laughed and nodded. This was so weird. She was Emma, but not Emma. She had the same dry sense of humour, but with the addition of pop culture references. He realised that he’d waited too long to say more, still overawed. “The dragon was actually friends with Emma,” he said, desperate for the conversation to continue.

Emma frowned at him and shook her head incredulously. “Oh come on! Now I know you’re making this up.”

“No really! I didn’t much like her, kind of a bitch and a major fire hazard. Honestly, I don’t miss having her in my flat.”

“You had Maleficent in your apartment?”

“I believe she’s Lily’s mother actually.”

Emma smirked at him. “Bullshit.” He just raised his eyebrows and cocked his head, trying to give off a “you keep telling yourself that” vibe as he grinned. “If I believe you then I have to accept that the street art I keep seeing of her looking like some kind of badass female Saint George is all anti-dragon propaganda. You have to let me have that vision, people buy me drinks because they think I’m her, I’ve gotten laid because of it.”

He laughed. “Far be it from me to cramp your style, Emma may not have actually slain the dragon, but she was definitely a badass. Have you seen the one of her looking like Wonder Woman with the lightsaber?”

“In the parking lot on Brick Lane? I love that one!”

“She loved it too. Of course, she didn’t actually know what a lightsaber was.” He laughed at the memory.

“Tell me you fixed that immediately or I’m not sure we can be friends.”

He laughed. “As if I would deny anyone a proper Star Wars education.” Emma nodded her approval. “Hey would you like to get a coffee?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Emma shook her head and his face fell. “Sorry, er, what did you say your name was?”

“Killian,” he said, trying not to feel too sad. He studied his feet, wondering if the ground could just open up and swallow him. Of course she wouldn’t want to get coffee, this was so strange and he’d approached her in the weirdest possible way.

“Maybe we could get a hot chocolate instead?” He looked up at her in surprise. She shrugged. “I don’t drink coffee,” she said apologetically. “Is that ok?”

“Yeah.” He was dazed, stunned into stupidity by this new Emma Swan.

“Come on, I want to hear all about how awesome I am.” She winked at him. And for the first time since Princess Emma had stepped through that portal he felt that powerful feeling surging through him and lighting him up inside. For the first time since she left, Killian had hope.