anonymous said:

Captain Pan 34

send me a ship and a number and i’ll write a short fic

34. meeting at a masquerade ball au

{ casually tags groovyxgenes  cause this is one of her OTPs}

Prince Killian strolled into the large ballroom and examined the exquisite amount of people who were already taking part of the festivities taking place that singular evening. He had been fashionably late as always, of course. It was part of his charm some would say.

It had been a few weeks since he had attended such a grand ball. He’d be excruciatingly busy, but never would he turn down the chance to dance with some beautiful women, flirt with some handsome men, and drink free liquor. 

Like the rest of the royalty that graced the large hall, he wore a mask, as requested in the invitation. It was simple, unlike the other large, intricate masks others bore; a simple thick, black ribbon concealed his eyes, tied around the back of his head. It matched well with his clothing choice, having decided upon a long, black coat with golden buttons and the edges of the long sleeves curled upward. He also wore a red vest, dark black leather pants, and traditional seafarer’s boots upon his feet. Ever since childhood, the prince had dreamt of being a pirate of some sort, and he figured this would be his only night to do so. 

The prince continued to watch the crowd as he slowly made his way across the side of the room. Taking in the gorgeous ball gowns the women wore, some of the nicest he had ever seen, the grandiose music that filled the hall, and just the overall impressive nature of the party. 

His thought process was interrupted as he suddenly found his frame colliding with that of another person. “My humblest of apologies sir.” He quickly soothed, lifting his hand to smooth out the label of the younger man he had idiotically bumped into.

"No apologies are needed." He replied with a smile, lifting his own hand to fix his mask slightly. "I should have been paying attention to where I walked."

"I could say the same." Killian laughed. He extending his hand to the man, and bowed lightly at the waist. "Say, my good man, would you know where I could possibly meet the king of this beautiful land? I wish to pay my thanks to him for the invitation to this lovely party."

The younger man laughed at his words as if the Prince had been a clown entertaining a group of children. “You are mistaken. There are no kings here — only I.”

"You?" Killian replied with a curious quirk of his brow.

"Yes sir." The man removed his cap, and then bent at the waist in a polite bow. "I go by Peter. I rule over this land, but I would not call myself a king by any means.”

"You are a humble man then Peter. I know many a man who would kill, literally, to bear the title of king." Killian smiled. He then returned the bow, and when he straightened his back, extended his hand to the man. "Prince Killian of Tortuga."

Peter returned the firm shake with a grand smile. “Ah! Lovely to finally meet you, your majesty. While I am disappointed your father could not join you tonight, I am grateful that you could still attend.”

"Yes, I am too. Unfortunately, I fear this might be my last ball though as a Prince. His doctors say that he will not last to the end of the month." Killian shrugged his shoulders lightly and shook his head. 

"I am horribly sorry."

"Oh, you need not be. My father has led a wonderful life as he himself often says. He does not fear death — a wonderful practice in my opinion."

"The greatest practice of them all." Peter nodded his head in return. "Well then, if this is to be your last ball as a prince, then let us have you go out with a bang." Peter laughed, lifting his hand and patting Killian’s shoulder. "Come. let’s get you a drink." 

"The first of many I imagine. But the alcohol can wait. First, might I have a dance, your grace?" Killian inquired, lifting a bent arm and extending it to Peter graciously. 

The younger man’s lips curled into yet another smile, and took the offered arm. “You may.” Peter soothed, walking in tandem with Killian towards the center of the ballroom — the start of a night that neither would ever forget.

Blue Hearts (Sequel to "Blue lips")

Killian loved her. He really did.

Or at least that was what he was trying to make himself believe even after three months of weekly cheating.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, tapping the ash off his cigarette. The bed squeaked as the boy behind him moved, probably to reach for his sad excuse for clothing.

“So, is this going to become some kind of habit?” The boy chuckled and Killian took a drag of his cigarette, before looking over his shoulder to watch him dress. Thin and pale he was, but beautiful nevertheless. Killian thought his self disgusting.

“No,” he finally answered, squashing his cigarette on the ashtray atop the nightstand. “I can’t keep doing this.”

The boy paused in his movements dropping the shirt he was about to put on. He slyly crawled his way into Killian’s personal space and placed himself on his lap. Grinning like the devil he probably was, the boy slung his thin arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“You know,” he breathed against Killian’s lips, “I think this is too much fun to just stop.”

Killian had to suppress the urge of touching this pale, far too soft skin, to give in to his desire and feelings.


He felt his heart tighten by this thought. This… thing between them was nothing but business. Or “fun” as the boy preferred to call it.

There was no space for Killian’s thrill of anticipation. No space for the butterflies fluttering circles in his stomach or the need to hold and kiss this boy over and over, and especially none for his silly dreams about a future that could never be.

Killian was married to a beautiful woman. This boy was a hooker who wanted nothing but his money. This – whatever this was – was not a love story. After all Killian was not rich or a single guy, and the boy definitely was no pretty woman portrayed by Julia Roberts. He was far prettier than her.

“Aye, that it is. Still,” he shoved the boy off his lap, trying to act cold and uncaring, afraid that the boy could notice his moronic feelings towards him. “I need to get back to my wife. So just dress yourself and get the hell out of here.”

The boy fell to the dusty ground and the moment Killian mentioned his wife a flicker of jealousy, hurt flashed through his eyes. But then he was grinning again, leaving no trace of the quick emotions Killian at least wished he saw.

Parting his legs seductively, he laid back on the floor and arched his back looking at him with those green, darkened gems that promised the greatest pleasure he would ever be given.

“Are you sure?” he purred and bit his red and tempting bottom lip.

Killian almost gave in. Almost.

Reaching into his own pocket he pulled out the two hundred-dollar bills, this little shit charged each time and threw it over his far too young body.

“Just take your money and get lost.”

The hurt was back and Killian regretted his words and actions immediately. He had to tear away his gaze, before the boy could see the remorse—or worse… the love—in his eyes.

“You shouldn’t go out next week—a snowstorm is coming.” Killian’s voice ended up being shaky and gentle, revealing his attachment to the hooker he fell in love with.

Without looking back to the boy, he buttoned up his shirt and ran off.

Killian loved her. He really did.

But he didn’t believe himself anymore.

In a Place Where Time Stands Still
read it on the AO3 at

by Teatime86

crackfic. Hook suggests to Peter that they should celebrate Valentine’s Day. Peter’s answer isn’t exactly what he expects.

Words: 1345, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

read it on the AO3 at