I wanted to say thanks for everything one more time. Thank you for all the smiles, laughter, and fun times you’ve brought me and others over the years! You said it yourself Iwata, that’s what games are all about.

I drew my personal favorite games and the ones that had a big impact on me that Mr. Iwata produced. There’s a whole lot more I could have included, but this is just some of ‘em. 

Love and miss ya so much dude. God Bless. Rock on, buddy.

we’ve wasted our lives

Missing scene? Lol prob not, but a scene I truly wanted out of this arc as a parallel to this amazing scene and their dynamic in this:

Gif credit to the lovely @freifraufischer (thank you!)

Tagging @capitaine-odette (I’m sorry this probably isn’t the type of Hooked Queen fic you wanted lol) and @the-omega-finiens who shares my love for them!

The sea in the Underworld is stagnant yet it’s nothing short of chaos. Killian tries hard to focus on the still water, on the slight breeze in the air, or at the very least, the smell of salt from the sea, but all his mind registers is the redness of the sky, the eerie silence, the ever-present mist, and the feel of death in the air.

He notices a set of footsteps behind him – it’s not Emma, he knows, he can feel it – so he decides to ignore them, not in the mood to talk to any fellow dead person. Until that very much living person stops beside him, her shoulder lightly brushing his.

“Glad to see your brooding habits are still intact” Regina mumbles, a sort of forced snark in her voice as compared to the natural way it flows through her usually.

Killian turns to her then, catching her exhaustion in the way her shoulders are dropped, her eyes blearily staring ahead without the usual fire in them, and the frown lines appearing on her forehead.

A flash of guilt courses through him at the sight – knowing it’s this entire mission to save him which has caused her, Robin, and gods the lad down here. He wants to thank her, but also wants to call her stupid (the way she does) for coming down to save his undeserving arse, but he doesn’t.

Instead - “What is a sailor to do on his ship at night, but brood?” he tries to make the situation lighter.

“Oh really?” she quirks a perfectly shaped eyebrow, her painted lips forming a teasing pout “No beautiful company for the night?”

“Not when you’re on sea, love”

She nods to that, once again staring at the dull horizon and Killian can’t help but tease, “Aren’t you the one brooding right now, Your Majesty? You’re probably familiar with the habit; I’m sure it got lonely as the Evil Queen - all by yourself…plotting revenge on Snow White”

Regina huffs and then sighs, her voice dropping an octave when she speaks, “I never really brooded. Rage is a very powerful motivator”

“No argument on that” Killian tilts his head in agreement.

“It sort of numbs you” she continues, much to Killian’s surprise, “Filters your mind and corrupts your soul, whispering all these lies of how the darkness provides comfort when it truly just destroys you and leaves you empty”

Understanding and sympathy swarm through Killian, as he offers a shaky smile to Regina whose own lips lift up in a sheepish smile, realizing she just confessed so to the pirate.

Killian moves his hand to procure his flask and offers it to her, the feel of the liquid burning through her throat, he hopes, will help the self-loathing slip away. A bit.  

She rolls her eyes at him and he gives her a pointed look. Snatching the flask from him she opens the cap, “I don’t do rum” she states before taking a swig.

When she catches the self-satisfied grin on his face, she shoves the flask to his chest and crosses her arm, looking the other way.

They stand there in silence for a few more moments, the two of them with such a complicated history – flirting (or rather manipulation), working as allies, betrayal, attempts to murder, torture, working together in Neverland, and finally, something akin to…something.

His gaze refocuses from the woman to how calm the water is down here, perfectly contrasting the inner turmoil which is currently eating him alive. He knows he made the right decision the night before - letting Liam move on and deciding to live out his future with Emma.

He’s also a step closer to forgiving himself for all the horrendous things he said and did to the people he loved under the influence of the dark curse, for feeding the whispering voices inside his head and for being weak

They’ve all certainly seemed to forgive him, their presence here being evidence of that.

(The Charmings truly are a stubborn bunch)

But as forgiving and supportive Emma is of him, of seeing the good in him, she still doesn’t truly understand the kind of demons he fights with himself every day, the way the darkness is always at bay, trying to find a way to seep through.

Regina does.

“Why do we deserve to live?” he blurts out, turning his head just in time to catch Regina’s eyes widen.

“What?” she shakes her head.

“We’ve tortured and murdered countless people in the name of revenge; some of them who might actually still be here. Why is it then that we, who’ve destroyed countless lives, and even hurt the ones whom we love the most, deserve to go back up there and live our happy endings?”

Regina looks down, remembering the conversation with Gepetto in her office, After ruining everyone else’s happy ending, what makes you think you deserve one of your own?

Memories of the way bright red hearts felt in her hand, the beating of them against her palm just before she applied some pressure and crushed them, watching the way the life left in people’s eyes and they dropped in front of her. The way bodies piled up, the smell of rotting flesh and the ground painted in red as her eyes searched for one person.

The way Snow used to look at her, not anger or sympathy or rage, just disappointment and pity and sadness.

And finally the way Henry used to look at her – disappointed and hurt.

“Quite honestly Killian, I don’t know”  


I am honestly so shocked…Cynthia passed away yesterday on 1st of April..
She will always be my favourite beatles wife and not because she was married to a beatle but because she was an amazing person in her own write!An amazing,loving and caring mother,a great artist and just a wonderful,sweet,smart and kind person! RIP Cynthia you will be missed dearly by many! Thank you for being an inspiration!

Hello. Name’s Cynthia. She/Her pronouns. Transgirl. I know I don’t look much like a girl; that’s because I haven’t been able to transitioning yet. But I thought I would do this anyways. Feel free to talk to me anytime though! :)

anonymous asked:

009:"The stars look especially lovely tonight." for cs please! your fics give me life tbh STAY AMAZING

Thank you <3

Emma was standing at the edge of his ship, their ship as she is still reminded constantly. A slight breeze passed through the air, making her shiver slightly and yearn for one of the thick blankets lying on the mast of the ship. Just as Emma was about to turn she felt a warm body behind her; Killian’s front pressed to her back and his strong arms around her waist, his body giving off warmth and the feeling of home ever present in his embrace.

“The stars look especially lovely tonight” he murmured in the crook of her neck, his hot breath sending shivers down Emma’s spine. She looked up at the night sky and sighed in contentment. It was a very dark night and being a good distance away from Storybrooke, the stars illuminated even more, helping Emma easily figure out the constellations he traced on her naked back, whispering the names of them in midst of his kisses.

“They do” she agreed, clutching his hand and hook resting on her belly.

She rested her head on his shoulder and turned to the side. Henry was sitting near the wheel with Kate, her head on his shoulder and the newest member of their family in his arms. Roland was beside him with his arm around his little sister (Baby Hood as Killian still called her). Leia and Liam stood beside Henry with their black and blond hair respectively ducked down to coo at their little nephew.

Their uncle who was just a couple of years older than the twins stood beside them, taking turns with the “grownups” (still children to Emma) in taking swigs out of Killian’s old flask which Leia had asked for as a gift for her 21st birthday and Killian being unable to deny her anything, especially when she knew her father’s weakness was her “puppy eyes” expression with the emeralds matching her mothers, gave one of his most prized possessions to her without any qualms (just like he traded his ship for a chance to see her mother all those years ago).

Regina and Robin stood just beside them in the same pose, watching the stars as well and Emma saw the woman smile completely smitten and press a kiss to Robin’s jaw. Even though the three pair of them were nearing sixty now (or even more for the others considering their time in the Enchanted Forest), the mayor looked not much different, save for a couple of wrinkles, than what she did when she fought along side Emma in the Underworld. (Something to do with a monthly cleanse as Regina claimed).

Her parents were behind them, her mother’s hair longer now and her father’s a bit grey on the edges. They were also huddled together in each other’s arms; having fought gallantly for their true love, their kingdom, and their family like true leaders.

They had made it, they had all made it. These group of people had been through so much since Emma arrived in town, hell even before that in the Enchanted Forest their stories and fates had always been intertwined. But they all always made it out stronger than before, together.  

Sure once in a while a crisis still hits their town and the kids snicker as their parents and grandparents take out their beloved weapons and red leather jackets and spend time with Belle at the library, to grumpily and snarkly fight off villains. (Since the time Regina and Killian have become friends after the Underworld trip, the villains never get a chance to win a snark fest).

But they had all also heeded to Killian and David’s theory of having quiet moments - of living their lives happily, expanding their families, and basking in togetherness.

Emma would never be able to express it in words how thankful she is for each and every one of them and how much she loves them.

Of course the pirate nuzzled behind her has no qualms with love and affection and rather has an affinity with words. He turns her around gently to face him, his hair now a mixture of black and grey and little wrinkles beside his blue eyes, but the love present in them ever the same. It still sometimes surprises him when he looks in the mirror to see the changes in him after having spent centuries not aging. But as he twirls the grey in Emma’s blond hair, and watches his little children (adults Papa!) still paddling around in their white picket house (their mother stayed with her parents until she was thirty why can’t they?), he smiles and embraces the mortality of his life and importance of each moment.

With a kiss pressed to his true love’s soft lips, and his hand tracing Liam’s ring on her ring finger, he whispers, “Not as lovely as you, Swan”.