hi everyone!! i arranged ‘happy beginning’ with three violins and piano and performed it at my violin concert yesterday. here’s a short excerpt (from the end of the song) – i hope you enjoy!
She can’t stop laughing. Years of loss and loneliness, distrust, curses, death, pain and heartache. Being separated by realms, and temporarily defeated by foes – all the things they’ve been through, and as she stares up at the rooftop of her home, Killian looks as though this is the most difficult bind he’s ever gotten himself into.
He’s not…necessarily wrong.
She’d left her Poptarts behind at the store when she’d felt the tingling of her security charm at work, and had poofed herself back to the house fully prepared for battle with whatever idiot thought it was a good idea to mess with the Savior, and had instead been very confused to find no signs of an intrusion on the house, only the newspaper still sitting on the front lawn. Killian was usually up by now, reading through it like some old-timey gent, sipping his coffee while he flipped through the pages, like there was anything in there Leroy hadn’t already exclaimed in the streets for all to hear.
Her favorite part of the morning was distracting him enough to put the newspaper down and focus all his attention on her.
I felt inspired by
the Neverland Renaissance and this just kind of…happened. A canon divergence
that loops back around eventually, takes place during Think Lovely Thoughts
just before the walk to Pan’s camp when all the Nevengers come back together
for the final plan.
“As wonderful as the assurance we are able to get off this
cursed island is,” Killian looked at the grim faces of the assembled group. “I
think we are overlooking the very important detail that it won’t do us a bloody
bit of good if Pan kills the lot of us.”
It had been an exhausting day so far, full of near death
experiences and long treks through sweaty, dense jungle, but the day was far
from over, and Pan was still a very dangerous foe. A foe they desperately
needed to reign in if they had even a hope of getting home.
“We have a plan,” Neal glared at him from his perch on a
fallen log. “Or were you too distracted
during that whole conversation to hear it?”
Emma shifted uncomfortably, eyes trained on the ground, arms
crossed defensively across her chest.
The tension in the clearing was almost unbearable, coming at
them from almost all sides: a general animosity between Hook and Neal, a chilly
silence between David and Mary Margaret, something mysterious and unspoken
between Hook and Tinker Bell that in turn caused something unnamable to flare
up in Emma’s chest whenever they so much as stood near each other, and then
there was the ever present strain between Hook and herself, stretched taut
between them and ready to snap.
“I merely meant to remind you, mate,” Killian bit out
through clenched teeth. “That Pan will be anticipating your previously employed
method of neutralization. Especially considering, you’ve used it every time you’ve faced him so far.”
“What are you suggesting Hook?” Tink asked giving the pirate
a surveying look. She had a feeling she knew exactly where this was going, and
she didn’t like it. “It better not be what I think you are suggesting.”
Killian practically grinned, bowing a little in her direction.
“Unfortunately milady, that is exactly what I’m suggesting,”
he raised an eyebrow at her. “Unless there are any objections of course.”
Summary: A canon-divergence set after Killian and Emma return to Rumpelstiltskin’s castle, an expanded epic adventure.
_____
Killian carefully set the lantern down on a
fairly clear patch of the packed dirt floor, hesitant to even bring a hint of
heat into the abandoned stable, considering most of it appeared as if it could
burst into flames at any moment. Sitting alone in the dark held no appeal for
him however, and there was really nowhere else for him to hide out at this
point.
He may be a masochist at times, often inflicting
a certain amount of this bittersweet torture upon himself, but even he had his
limits. Sharing a set of rooms with Emma Swan while she was naked in a tub of
steaming water, skin no doubt flushed a delicate rosey pink, just feet away
from a perfectly serviceable bed, was not a torture he could endure. He had
survived many things, vanquished many foes in his long life, but that was
not a weakness he could overcome.
Especially when she kept looking at him with
eyes that seemed to want him to kiss her, especially when she finally seemed to
be truly ready to accept him, to truly let him in at last. He chuckled darkly
to himself at the thought and leaned back against the door of an old wooden
stall, drawing his flask from his bag and let the bitter irony wash over him.
Of all the times for him to prove himself to her.
Summary: In which Emma Swan
loves every part of him, too.
Rated: T
Warnings: Language, mentions of sex
Words: ~ 8k
Notes: For the lovely @seethelovelyintheworld (whose art is cropped and used above with her permission; the original can be found here), who sent me the following prompt: “I was thinking about the fact that Emma holds Killian’s hook naturally, because it’s a part of him and almost as if she forgets that it isn’t a “real” hand. I’d love a fic from Killian’s point of view describing how he feels when she first does that. It must have been emotional for him.” Love and devotion to @literatiruinedme and @high-seas-swan for reading it through.
The number of times, Killian is
certain, that his heart has leapt into his throat.
He stands along the sloping edge of a nameless, sweet water
lagoon in the forest that creeps along the northwestern shores of Neverland. The multicolored, shimmering flora at his
feet taps at his boots, winding restlessly up around his ankles. Birds overhead caw in broken, hideous
languages. Even the rhythmic swish of
the water – the sound he most often hears when he closes his eyes, when he
tries to forget who he is – is grating, unnerving. At least at sea, these muted, mournful cries
of a jungle burdened with sorrowful magic and lost children…at least there it cannot touch him.
This piece of fluff is for @thisisevenharderthannamingablog‘s birthday. She said a while back she just wanted those two crazy kids to have some piece and quiet. I’m not normally a domestic fluff writer, but for this, I happily make an exception.
As many of you who follow her know, she does like to bake, so I used that as my starting point. I chose bread because I’m pretty sure that’s one of her favorite things to make. I even used her go-to bread recipe for the story. (You can find the recipe here but she doesn’t use the nuts.) I promise I’ll be making it myself, too.
Hopefully I haven’t ruined her bread-making experience with this unbeta’d story. It’s done with love. 🙂 Happy Birthday, my friend!
Word Count: ~2500
Summary: Killian and Emma make bread and innuendos.
Rating: D for doughy goodness
Killian Jones was a man of many, many talents, some of which Emma had become intimately acquainted with just in the past couple of weeks. But she never could have prepared herself for the scene that greeted her when she returned home from the Sheriff’s station that afternoon.
There, at the large farm table in their kitchen, was Killian, setting out a glass bowl and several ingredients he’d emptied from the grocery bags piled on the counter behind him.
Emma paused in the doorway, mouth agape but eyes narrowed. Slowly, she shut the door behind her and stepped into the living room.
“Ah, Swan! Just in time!” Killian called out, his warm smile impossible not to return.
cshappybeginning 