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wangxianficfinder · 2 years

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In the mood for a Fic

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1. For your next 'in the mood for' post, could y'all recommend some fics where Wei Wuxian asks Jiang Cheng's permission for the golden core transfer? I've always thought that would be an interesting premise for a fic, but I haven't been able to find any like that. Thanks so much for all the work you do in this fandom! @prans-micellar-water

Drowning in the Sun by Zelos (T, 8k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Transfer, Canon-Typical Violence, Brotherly Love, Sunshot Campaign, Family Dynamics, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, [Podfic] Drowning in the Sun by flamingwell) For 1, Drowning in the Sun is a *wonderful* work, but does not include WWX asking Jiang Cheng's permission. In fact, rather the opposite. The premise of that fic is that Jiang Cheng is aware but paralyzed during the surgery and the fact that he did not consent is a major plot point

To a fault by apathyinreverie (T, 7k, WIP, Yunmeng Siblings, WangXian, Family, Siblings, the Jiang siblings having each other's backs, no matter what, LWJ approves, Romance, Canon Divergence, Fluff)

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2. I wanted to express my gratitude for all the hard work you put in for this fandom! I am also in the mood for a novel canon divergence, where eveything is the same (including all the Wangxian scenes) but the confession at guanyin temple doesn't happen and they have to deal with their feelings after everything has calmed down. Bonus for more pining afterwards/them continuing being oblivious idiots.

Operation Barking Dog by RoseThorne (T, 6k, WIP, WangXian, Family, Mutual Pining, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Repaying Debt, Regret, Phobias, Trauma, Memories, Tree Climbing, There Was Only One Bed, Travel, JC in Seclusion, Cynophobia, POV Third Person, POV LWJ, Pining, Flowers)

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3. Hi mods! Thanks for your amazing work❤️ recently my new obsession is maffia au, can you hit me your best recommendations or a list with them? Every tag is okay, but the main couple please be wangxian 😊 Thank you so much🥰

🧡Rule Number One: Never get attached. by KizuKatana (E, 130k, wangxian, criminal underworld au, dark LWJ, ABO, note all tags) has recently become a favorite I can not recommend it enough!

You & Me Baby, We'll Eclipse The Sun Series by 2501987 (M/E, 130k, WangXian, XiCheng, MIND THE TAGS, Modern AU, Mafia, Murder husbands, Torture, Possessive Behavior, Blood and Violence, Older JC, Younger WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Dark)

Say What's In This Drink? by nana_banana (E, 2k, WangXian, Established Relationship, Gun Violence, Violence, Mild Blood, Dark LWJ, Organized Crime, Murder, Crime Boss LWJ)

Miscalculated Misreckoning by LadyVamp (E, 5k, WangXian, Crimes & Criminals, Organized Crime, Assassins & Hitmen, Attempted Kidnapping, Murder, Murder Husbands, Blood and Violence, Violent Sex, Married WangXian, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX, YL WWX, Modern AU, Hair-pulling, Office Sex, Desk Sex, Dark LWJ, Protective LWJ, Dark WWX, Partners in Crime, Smut, Gun Violence, Gun Kink, Crime Syndicate Qíshān Wēn Sect, Arranged Marriage, Crime Lord LWJ, Crime Lord WWX)

LAOZU (1989) by Machinebender (E, 5k, WIP, WangXian, GonDrey, Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Modern AU, Organized Crime, Enemies to Lovers, Rivals With Benefits, Canon-Typical Major Character Death, 1980s Shanghai Triads AU) Just wanted you to know that the sudden revival of interest in the lost Martin Scorsese subtext-laden gangster epic “Goncharov” is already inspiring fusion AUs

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4. Hello! May I request some warprize fics? Either of them as one is fine :)

Our War Prize Collection is right up your alley

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5. Good morning/afternoon/evening dear mods! For the next I'm in the mood for fic do you think you can find any fic where Jiang Yanli is the one to go back in time? She's such an interesting character and I would love to see what she would prioritize with her slightly limited knowledge of the events of canon

💖 Sail Away Sweet Sister by sami (M, 73k, WangXian, MingLi, YZY/Mdm Lan/CS, Time Travel, EXTREME Canon Divergence, Family, Wide Focus Narrative, Some People Live/Not Everyone Dies, Most Named/Canon Characters Lives, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Families of Choice, Parenthood, Fluff, Angst, Underage Sex, PTSD, Unforeseeable consequences, The butterfly effect, Slightly Dark JYL) though it is her ghost that travels back, which witnessed all of post canon so she does not have the limited knowledge

from the top, this time with personality by thunderwear (G, 15k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, time travel, JYL stands up for herself, family feels, WIP)

the taming of wild rivers by colorfullysarah (T, 7k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, time travel fix-it, everyone lives au, BAMF JYL, falling in love, found families, WCZ lives, WIP)

Between the sinners and the saints by Moonlit_dewdrops (T, 16k, wangxian, JC & WWX & JYL, JYL/JZX, time travel fix-it, JYL centric, canon divergence, JYL pov, found family, protective JYL)

Keeping Our Promises Unbroken by ColdBloodedReptile (M, 72k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, JC/WQ, time travel fix-it of sorts, not everyone dies au, angst w/ happy ending, fluff, family feels, JYL pov, sibling bonding, protective siblings, WIP)

Hear The Flute, Alone In Its Melancholy by effugi (M, 18k, JYL/JZX/WQ, wangxian, time travel, angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, PTSD, first time, eventual romance & smut, WIP)

System user Jiang Yanli by Sassylittlebean (M, 1k, WIP, XuanLi, WangXian, Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Plot changing, JYL Lives, JYL badass, Fix-It) freshly posted today (8/21/2022)

Rise of the Peacock by JustAWanderingBabbit (Not Rated, 65k, WIP, JZX & MY, XuanLi, 3Zun, Canon Divergence, Re:Birth/Transmigration, Drabble to Full Story, Attempted Sexual Assault, unwanted sexual touching) Jin Zixuan is sent back in time to his first fight with WWX, and seeks to set things right from there; along the way, he discovers that (SPOILER) so has Jiang Yanli

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6. i'm wondering if there are any fics ppl can recommend where wwx is blind? preferably finished works but i'd love to see whatever is out there!

🧡close your eyes, feel my heartbeat by ThatDesiGirl (T, 11k, WangXian, blind!WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rewriting Canon, not a fix-it but a what-if, Golden Core Transfer)

The Warmest Hands by AvoOwO (M, 46k, wangxian, JC & WWX, WWX & LSZ & LWJ, major character injury, hurt WWX, blood & gore, heavy angst w/ happy ending, blindness, PTSD, alcoholism, fights, JC & WWX reconciliation, non-sexual intimacy, tenderness, WIP) is a blind wwx fic. It’s rlly good but rlly intense!

The Darkness Before Dawn by PsycheStellata707 (M, 113k, WIP, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, BAMF WWX, Time Travel, Attempt at Humor, PTSD, Oblivious WWX, WWX-centric, Blind WWX, Sentient Burial Mounds, Self-Indulgent, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Except Those Who Deserves to Die, Oblivious Pining, Not Canon Compliant)

🧡Bright Enough to Shine by Dreaming_Days (G, 12k, WangXian, Blind WWX)

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7. hello any fics that sunshot Champlain donghua wwx meets post canon cql lwj??? i saw a fanart like that and i was intrigued to see if there where anyfics like it ^^

The Young, the Horny, the Jaded and the Jade: Partners in Time by Admiranda (M, 35k, WangXian, WIP, Established couple, Crossover, road trip with your older selves, teasing your younger selves about their obvious crushes, yin iron does yin iron things, mdzs/cql crossover, adult wangxian, Teenage Wangxian) is a stepping through time fic where young CQL wangxian meet older MDZS wangxian. It’s sooo well written and rlly fun. Updates take some time but it’s still active

Once upon in a dream... by Clarissa_23 (G, 1k, WangXian, WYB & XZ, Canon Divergence, Crack, Bratty WYB, Accidental matchmaking)

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8. Hello! I'm in the mood for fics where someone else becomes a sentient fierce corpse! I don't mind if they're not wangxian fics.

Over the Rotted Bridge by vailkagami (T, 314k, wangxian, major character death, temporary character death, angst, hurt/comfort, canon divergence, non-consensual resurrection, YLLZ WWX, hurt LWJ, slow burn, plague, PTSD, survivor’s guilt)

We Are the Afterlife Series by NevillesGran (G/M, 187k, WIP, Yunmeng Siblings, WangXian, JYL & JL, Major Character Undeath, Canon Divergence, Fierce Corpse!JYL, Canon-Typical Needles In Heads, Yúnmèng Jiāng Siblings, JYL-centric, Canon-Typical Fierce Corpse Body Horror, Extended Junior Ensemble (ft. OCs) ) is a sentient fierce corpse!JYL AU

monsters cannot break her stride by Stratisphyre (G, 3k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, JYL Lives, outsider pov)

a bird in your teeth by Eevee (ChaosBitch) (E, 61k, YangLi, WangXian, All of the sex in this fic is consensual, But one of the participants IS a fierce corpse, JYL POV, Minor Character Death, (you probably won't be sad about it), I feel like this fic turned out surprisingly soft, but XY still does some onscreen murders, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mention of JGS's canon behavior, Mentions of XY's canon behavior, Angst, Hopeful Ending)

Of The Sun, by Enigmatree (M, 43k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, The Wen Sect, Worldbuilding, No Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX, BAMF WN, Cinnamon Roll WN, BAMF WQ, Temporary Character Death, BAMF JYL, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending)

There Are More Than One Reason Undead Raise Series by Storyboradinventor (M/T, XuanLi, WangXian, JC & WWX, Undead!WWX, Angst, Canon Divergence, Undead!Yiling Patriarch, Sunshot Campaign, Bittersweet Ending, Some Humor) WWX emerges from the Burial Mounds as a sapient fierce corpse

blue skies forever Series by rikke (M, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, major character death in a necromantic way, necrophilia also in a necromantic way, canon divergence with the bad ending route, lwj is wwx's corpse boyfriend) LWJ dies and WWX brings him back as a fierce corpse. Mind all the tags, and be forewarned that this one turns up frequently in angst and sad ending requests.

Waiting On The Night Hunt by JustAWanderingBabbit (G, 50k, Grudging Respect Friendship, Inappropriate use of lightning storms)

and

Pieces of Us by JustAWanderingBabbit (Not Rated, 32k, dead characters being dead, Mostly Canon Compliant, Snark, Implied Violence, Happy ending.) these two stories are simultaneous and intertwined) ; post-canon; case fic; JGY and NMJ are running around as sapient fierce corpses, and XY has been possessing a series of undead backup bodies

House on Haunted Hill by JustAWanderingBabbit (T, 6k, MY & NMJ, SongXiao, Original Character, Communication is hard when you're dead, We ain't afraid of no ghosts, We've been dead for years, Bad jokes because writer is in a mood, NaNoWriMo Breaktime, ghost hunt, mystery haunting, Undead Investigation Team) takes place in the same universe as Pieces of Us and Waiting on the Night Hunt; post-canon; case fic; sapient fierce corpses SL and NMJ, demi-undead JGY, and ghosts XXC and AQ are a wandering night-hunting team

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9. Hello dear mods and thank you. Im itm for fics that are kinda specific. They would consist of wwx’s archery skills and basically ppl being impressed of him. Thank you

nothing is safe. by eeriemedusa (M, 2k, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Horror, POV Original Character, bad ending (?), depending on who you are, very lightly implied wangxian, that being said: battle couple wangxian, Blood and Violence, Gore, Canon-Typical Fierce Corpses, this is inspired by a clipping. song) if “terrified shitless” counts as “impressed”; Sunshot-Era, from the POV of Wen soldiers being picked off by WWX; a rare portrayal of WWX as a combat archer/sniper.

shot thru the heart by huxiyi (G, 7k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Archery, Getting Together, Feelings Realization, wwx's canonically bad memory)

best to start by testing him by deepestbluesky (T, 1k, WangXian, The Odyssey fusion, Identity Reveal, Archery, Non-Graphic Violence, some light murder, (well okay it's kind of a lot of murder actually), Reunions, brief but inspirational cameo by MXY) Odyssey fusion, with Odysseus’ homecoming enacted by WWX as Odysseus, LWJ as Penelope, LSZ as Telemachus, and the cultivator mob as the suitors

#1a on this wangxianficrecs post may have what you’re looking for

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10. I was wondering if anyone knew of any fics where the “XianXian is three!” joke isn’t so much a joke than it is a coping mechanism for Wei Wuxian’s time on the streets? I don’t mean those DD/LL/Caregiver/little or whatever it’s called type of fics (no shame to those type of fics! It’s just not what I am looking for) but a fic that kind of delves into the kind of trauma that a toddler living alone on the streets might develop? I just really want to read a fic that actually has Wei Wuxian confront his past as a little kid on the streets. Thanks!

Three by AmyNChan (G, 913) 10 inspired me to write a fic for them. I hope they enjoy.

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11. Hi hi! For the next itmf can i get fics with nhs and wwx being good friends!!

You, Clouds, Rain by PaPaYa_Bites (E, 32k, wangxian, JC & WWX, WWX & LSZ, modern, found family, accidental baby acquisation, adoption but more like kidnapping, past child abuse, implied/referenced drug use, fluff & angst, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, depression, implied/referenced self-harm, guilt, family fluff, eventual smut, WIP)

a grain of millet drifting by RoseThorne (T, 7k, NHS & WWX, Assassination Attempt(s), Introspection, Regret, Travel, Post-Canon, POV Third Person, POV WWX, Ghosts, Reconciliation, Exhaustion, Pining, Pre-WangXian)

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your problem as a mountain. by cupofwater (E, 30k, WangXian, NHS & WWX, Epistolary, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, Getting Together, Misunderstandings, Pen Pals, Erotica, Pen Pal Book Club, Sexual Fantasy, sexual self-discovery, Smut, Letters, POV Alternating, Elements from the MDZS Novel)

Story-Shaped by lingering_song (T, 13k, NHS & WWX, WangXian, Post-Canon, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Inventor WWX, Found Family, NHS needs a new hobby, And apparently that's spoiling his Wei-Xiong, Mentioned Character Death, Alcohol, Protective NHS, Not JC Friendly, Not particularly gentry sects friendly overall tbh)

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12. hi mods! i hope youre all doing well!! for the next iitmf, i'm hunting for coffee shop aus that actually have a healthy side of angst and/or hurt/comfort! preferably longer fics but i'll take what i can get - can anyone point me in some interesting directions?

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Pan - The Smell of Home by IBurbick (E, 27k, WIP, WangXian, 3Zun, Modern AU, Coffee Shops & Cafés, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone lives, Food Porn, autistic characters, Trans Characters, Disabled Characters, pansexual characters, Asexual Characters, Lesbians, non-binary characters, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, Heterosexual Characters, Threesome, Homophobia (sorry), Slow Burn, Smut, Mentions of violence/beating, Past Child Abuse, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Panic Attacks) LXC’s cafe is a beloved queer community hub, but also a target for homophobes

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13. Hey! May I please request some fics where wwx is loaded?

Teacher's Pet by anobtra (animeobsessedtrash) (E, 43k, wangxian, modern, college/university au, dark LWJ, age difference, professor WWX, student LWJ, smut, bottom LWJ, check all the smut tags before reading!, possessive LWJ) this has rich wwx but warning: wangxian has a large age diff and student/teacher stuff...

The Fault in Our Stars by Vamillepudding (T, 17k, WangXian, Modern AU, Getting Together, Romantic Comedy, Comedy of Errors, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings)

Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, WangXian, NieLan, Slow Burn, Kid Fic, Found Family, Modern AU, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, PTSD, Blood and Injury, Dissociation, So much trauma, Angst with a Happy Ending, Musicals, POV Alternating, Baking, Yunmeng reconciliation (eventually), Friend Zoning, Literal Sleeping Together, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks) WWX is sort of stealth rich, but it does make for some great plot moments

forget-me-not by mellowflicker (E, 22k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Sugar Daddy WWX, Sugar Baby LWJ, Professor WWX, Student LWJ, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Secret Relationship, Age Difference, Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain, JZX & LWJ Friendship, Family Issues, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiāngs) WIP however author is actively updating

His Priceless Jade by bluegrass (T, 2k, WIP, WangXian, Sugar Baby LWJ, Sugar Daddy WWX, Fluff, Light Angst, Forehead ribbon: No, Silk chokers: Yes, Music Student LWJ) WIP however the chapter reads like a one shot

together, we're just enough by lulu_kitty (E, 134k, WangXian, Bartender LWJ, single dad wwx, Kid fic (sort of), Excessive Fluff, Yearning, barely there plot, neurodivergent wangxian, canonical parental issues, lwj in jewelry, accidental sugar gege wwx, fluff and eventual smut, Bottom LWJ, Service Top WWX, Bisexual WWX, Rich WWX, a-yuan is a wei but still also a wen wwx is a-yuan's biological baba, Older WWX, Younger LWJ, Slow-ish burn, Light Dom/sub)

tangled by cryptenhope (T, 12k, wangxian, post-canon, established relationship, WWX has curly hair, yunmeng siblings, soft LWJ) WWX, since he inhabits MXY’s body, is the sole remaining heir to the Mo family fortune.

Our Small Steps by tokaku (T, 9k, wangxian, post-canon) WWX, since he inhabits MXY’s body, is the sole remaining heir to the Mo family fortune.

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14. Hi!!! For your next in the mood for, could you guys rec some fics where any canonically dead character comes back to life post canon?

To be Lost and Found by sanaaf (T, 9k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, Family Dynamics, Canon-Typical Violence, its about the found family but like literally, JYL comes back from the dead and has a lot to say actually, Protective JYL, LWJ is actually another one of JL's uncles, Case Fic, but barely, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, JYL Resurrection)

#5 of this post

I Call For You to Come Back by T98 (M, 18k, WIP, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, XuanLi, Post-Canon, Resurrection, JC Bashing, Jiāng Family Bashing)

Dream of the Gold Chamber by JustAWanderingBabbit (T, 8k, 3Zun, Canon Divergence, Referenced canonical incest canon violence, Crack Treated Seriously, Dream a Little Dream, XY is a turd, He might still be redeemable, JGS is not redeemable.) WWX is reconstituted from within the Stygian Tiger Seal (it’s complicated) and JYL, JZX, and JGY are resurrected in magically-constructed bodies; a lot of canon deaths are also averted

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15. hello <3 could i ask for fics where jc can tell somehow that the new core isn't his? or maybe where the core transfer links him to wwx somehow (like idk he can sense his emotions or something)? also, i'd love to read fics where they mention wwx having such a strong (or even immortal level) core. thank you!

Side Effects May Include by vibishan (T, 3k, WIP, JC & WWX, ChengNing, WangXian, Golden Core Reveal, Like Immediately, Telepathic Bond, Canon Divergence, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending)

when the stars don't line (i'll be forever by your side) by estel_willow, mandsangelfox (G, 12k, WIP, JC & WWX, WangXian, Yunmeng brothers, Sibling Bonding, JC finds out about his golden core earlier, Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Violence, Canon deaths, Canon Temporary Character Death)

A single soul (no more) by Lysdance1 (G, 983, JC & WWX, Sunshot Campaign, Canon Divergence, Reconciliation, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Character Study)

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16. Hello! This is my first ask so sorry if I do anything wrong, this is for the I'm in the mood for post. I was wondering if you know any fics that A. Have a big reveal scene in them, like the golden core transfer, someone being sick, or wangxians relationship being revealed anything like that I just want to see a scene where it's like "and everyone gasped or was shocked" it can be long or short i just really want some drama, and B. Where they're dealing with an argument, like at a conference and everything is just wild, again just want that drama.

Thank you so much for the work you do and I hope you have a good day. @05142003-blog-blog

By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal, Polski Translation Pod każdym innym imieniem by tehanu, [PODFIC] By Any Other Name by sakizar) has some crazy conference drama and reveals at the end

In the circle around broken glass by Cycliph (E, 7k, WIP, WangXian, Bottom LWJ/TOP WWX, Omega LWJ, Alpha WWX, A/B/O Dynamics, Pregnant LWJ)

Spectacular by Moominmammashandbag (G, 2k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, Everyone Lives)

A Little Bit of Helpful Advice by pupeez4eva (T, 2k, JC & WWX, WangXian, Time Travel, Humor, Crack, Yunmeng Bros)

The Nie Sect Discussion Conference That No One, Ever, Will Discuss Again. by mondengel (Not Rated, 1k, WangXian, Humor) you have to be logged into the archive to read this I think?

Wei Wuxian’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good First Meeting With His Future by Enigmatree (T, 3k, WangXian, Time Travel, Cloud Recesses, YL WWX, POV Outsider) not a discussion conference, but a class however I think it fits the drama and big reveal bill!

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17. Hi mods! Thanks for all the work you do. So, I came across the I'm in the mood for ask where op had asked for funny jiang cheng centric fics. I went through your list of the angsty fics (they were really good btw) and i was wondering if you had any more fics like "for what, for all but myself" by not_rude_ginger? Basically, jc-centric, angsty, long, hurt comfort. Also, no wwx/jc or jc/lwj or jc/juniors. Thanks!!

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

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naffeclipse · 2 years

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That ask abt mafia boss!Eclipse meeting the cryptid boys made me think abt smth (again) So, in the Y/N AU swap + body swap, what if CS!Y/N met Eclipse?

Oh, that would be nothing but trouble, most of it aiming for CS!Y/N's head, as even though they're in SJ!Y/N's body, Eclipse knows that it's not his vigilante. That look in their eyes is gone. He hates it. He wants it back.

CS!Y/N just wants to go home and is pretty sure Eclipse is a demon because *gestures* look at him! CS!Y/N is also very concerned about what the owner of this body has been dealing with in terms of, ah, romantic interests.

CS!Y/N @ SJ!Y/N like bruh, you live like this??

#y/n swap #cero-sleep

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divineluckfuckoff · 1 year

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Ace meeting his aus

I just thought back to how many aus of fangans, including drdt, I actually have. Ace being one of the most because I really love him. So... I thought: 'SomeAces act different than his canon self, how would canon Ace react to them?'. And here we are now

Canon Ace: So... you're basically me, right?

Chained Souls AU! Ace: Well yes, but more mature

Canon Ace: EXCUSE ME?!

Another Hell AU! Ace: This is gonna go so wrong...

Canon Ace: WAIT WHY ARE YOU- WHY DO YOU HAVE TITS?!

AH AU! Ace:... Excuse me? I'll have you fucking know, I had to fight to get these tits.

Canon Ace: What the fuck does that even mean???

CS AU! Ace: It means she got top surgery to get boobs. She is a trans woman.

Canon Ace:... I didn’t... know...

AH AU! Ace: Yeah, I didn’t either until the summer of my second year of middle school, when I moved with Jeanne. But! Now I'm more of a woman than I ever was back then! And I'm not scared to show it.

CS AU! Ace: So... What's your deal? I mean, we al, are different versions of OG Ace, after all.

Replaced! Ace: The class replaced me with some bastard, and talked shit about me behind my back, so I switched classes and made a new friend group.

Canon Ace:...

Replaced! Ace: Yeah... One of our greatest fears came true.

Canon Ace: Oh fucking great... What about you?

Mafia! Ace: Oh, me? Well, I'm a mafia heir! I kill and torture people for a living! Well, that, and trying to court a certain someone~.

Canon Ace: Get away from me, Arturo wannabe.

Mafia! Ace: Fuck you too.

AH AU! Ace: I got roped into a group that is trying to create a future where the killing games and the Tragedy never happened.

Canon Ace: What? You're gonna get killed, you know.

AH AU! Ace: I learned how to fight with swords and I can kick ass, unlike you.

Canon Ace: WHY YOU- Ugh!

CS AU! Ace: Well, a couple of us survived the killing game show, and we were hiding from the Despair Time show. But then my soul got sent back to my past self's body, and now I've been trying to avoid any murders.

Canon Ace:...

AH AU! Ace: Wow. That sounds like Ruya's situation.

Mafia! Ace: How unfortunate. Wouldn't wish that on my worst enemies~.

Replaced! Ace: You totally would.

Mafia! Ace: Heeheehee! Got me there, me!

Canon Ace:...And here I thought almost getting murdered by Nico was bad enough...

AH AU! Ace: WHAT?!

CS AU! Ace: Oh yeah, I remember that...

Replaced! Ace: Great, that asshole...

Mafia! Ace: Oh~? You mean that furry~? Well, I could take care of him, if you want~.

Canon Ace: ABSOLUTELY NOT!

#danganronpa despair time #despair time #drdt #drdt au #ace markey #shitpost #but also not?#idfk #drdt spoilers

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kazoosandfannypacks · 1 year

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WIP Excerpts - ♥️ 🎲

from the CS wip in the College AU series I'll finish someday...

❤️ Share one of your favorite lines.

It didn't need to bother Killian that they were bothering Emma. He had no reason or obligation to make her life easier, or to try to help her out- other than the fact that he'd taken quite a fancy to her over the past few months- or, more accurately, that he'd been crushing hard on her since the day they met.

🎲 Using a method of your choosing, share a randomly-selected line.

[my "random method," since 83 is one of my numbers, was to choose the 83rd line of the wip, and its surrounding context]

"Sounds a lot like Goncharov," Will said. "Goncharov?" David asked. "Only the greatest mafia film ever made," Will said, "I'm surprised you've never heard of it." "Oh, that Goncharov," David said, "watched it quite a few times."

thanks for the ask!

#once upon a time #ouat #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan #david nolan #will scarlet #once upon a time season 4 #kazzy writes

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dangereel · 2 years

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made these while i was gone!

yeah im still devoted to this au

im currently working on another one. itll be posted later

#mafia cs au #carmen sandiego #carmen sandeigo netflix #tigress #le chevre #mime bomb #screenshot edit #carmen sandiego au #au

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caen-might-draw · 3 years

Photo

“What should we do with this one Big Sis?” 🔪🔪🔪

#carmen sandiego #carmen sandeigo fanart #cs fanart #carmen sandeigo 2019 #carmen sandeigo netflix #cs ivy #cs zack #cs mafia au #(?? is there one idk but this popped into my head and i had to draw this)#(damn im hyperfixating lmaoooo)#freak.png

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star-my · 4 days

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Ateez Fic Recs ☆ Ao3

These are all available on ao3 as of April 2024. Some may require an account to view them. Some are likely crossposted on tumblr as well.

~TUMBLR RECS HERE~

Almost all are complete works, those with “+” after WC are incomplete.

Most of these are Mature or Explicit (usually because of smut) ~ mdni ~ italicized titles rated G or T ~ Please read responsibly

OT8/Multi

☆ Raise, Protect, and Hope by SinisterSound | Found Family, Mafia/Assassin AU | Platonic OT8 | 49k

☆ He's a Pirate series by pearlypearlypearl | Pirate AU, Magic AU | 70k

☆ The So Unknown series by themoonlightfae | F2L Vampire AU, Found Family AU | 110k+

☆ sticky by maganxx | FWB2L Roommate AU, Uni AU, Omegaverse AU | PSH + KHJ | 15k

☆ A Fever You Can't Sweat Out by to_shinestar | F2FWB Roommate AU | CS + JWY | 12k

Kim Hongjoong

☆ <<Do you believe in fate?>> by LettersFromAphrodite | Magic AU, Soulmate AU | 42k

☆ Plug & Play by bangtanintotheroom | Band AU | 10k

☆ Say My Name by twinmoles | Demon AU | 8k

☆ Hearts Over Clubs by starryjeekies | S2R2L Mafia AU | 28k

Park Seonghwa

☆ Kiss of Chaos by tenelkadjo | Magic AU, Witch AU, Annoyances/Enemies with Benefits to Lovers? | 40k

☆ Arrow in the Dark by tenelkadjo | S2F2L Fake Dating AU, Chaebol AU | 66k

☆ Properly by tenelkadjo | BFF2L Fake Dating AU | 10k

☆ Addicting Kitten by tenelkadjo | S2L Goth AU | 34k

☆ hearts & spades by wooyunhwa | S2FWB2L Mafia AU | 30k

☆ My Precious Pet series by yungidreamer | S2F2L Vampire AU | 26k+

Jeong Yunho

☆ the summer series by honeyhotteoks | F2FWB2L Roommate AU, Quarantine AU | 16k+

Kang Yeosang

☆ lessons in intimacy by honeyhotteoks | Camboy AU | 14k

☆ Gemini by HoneyAteez | F2L | 9k

Choi San

☆ forever and a bit. by the7thcrow | Demon AU, Mafia AU | 5k

☆ Control by Destriny | F2L Demon AU, Uni AU | 29k

☆ Sunrise by thecarnivaloflies | F2L Military AU, Dystopian AU | 30k

Song Mingi

☆ All In by tenelkadjo | BFF2L Vegas AU | 10k

☆ Steamroller by fallinforgyu | BFF2L Uni AU | 11k

☆ September, I'll Remember by I_Dont_Write_Fics | F2L Road Trip/Camping AU | 33k

☆ Love to Keep Me Warm by themoonlightfae | S2F2L Hallmark AU | 28k

☆ Diversity Hire by superbumpy | PA AU, Office AU | 13k

☆ Synesthesia by themoonlightfae | S2F2L Neighbours AU | 15k

Jung Wooyoung

☆ Midnight Kisses by mingigoo | BFF2L Single Parent AU | 28k

☆ Steady Opposites by PeachzensBread | R2L Uni AU | 12k

☆ For The Longest Time by themoonlightfae | BFF2L/S2L Tinder AU | 5k

Choi Jongho

☆ {Unavailable}

#star speaks #group: atz #member: ot8 #type: fic #ateez fic recs

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captainswanmoviemarathon · 4 years

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Official Movie Pairings

Okay everyone! We are excited to announce our author and artist movie pairings! Here is the official list of movies that everyone signed up for! We will contact the authors and betas personally with their pairings. Let us know if we missed something!

Writers

First Wave:

@rumdrum91—Ever After

@kmomof4—The Golden Child

@searchingwardrobes—Bring It On, Little Women

@thislassishooked—Speed

@imlaxdris71—Secretariat

Second Wave:

@teeandsnowflakes—Life as We Know it

@therealstartraveller776—Someone Like You

@snowbellewells—Carolina Moon, The Music Man, Roman Holiday

@lassluna—One for the Money, Overboard, The Proposal @killian-will-do—The Scarlet Pimpernel

@donteattheappleshook—Ondine, Chasing Liberty, Much Ado About Nothing

Third Wave:

@hollyethecurious—A Walk in the Clouds, Mama Mia

@stahlop—Runaway Bride

@teamhook —Kate and Leopold, 40 Year Old Virgin

@xhookswenchx—Space Between Us, George of the Jungle, Blast From the Past

@hookedonapirate—The Long Shot

@winterbaby89—Leap Year

@pirateherokillian—Gifted

@jarienn972—The Rescuers

@demisexualemmaswan—Atonement

@queen-serena88—Mannequin

@thejacketandthehook—Borrowed Hearts

@artistic-writer—Titanic

@courtorderedcake—Your Name

Artists

@teamhook—Kate and Leopold, The 40 year old virgin

@xhookswenchx—Space Between Us, George of the Jungle, Blast from the Past

@itsfabianadocarmo—Princess Bride, A Cinderella Story, Dirty Dancing

@captainodonoghue—Stardust, Princess Bride, A Cinderella Story

@allons-y-to-hogwarts-713—Burlesque, Ever After, Disney's Descendants

@tehgreeneyes—Anastasia

@carpedzem—TBD We are so excited to see what everyone creates!

#CSMM20 #CaptainSwan #CS Mafia #CS Crew #cs ff movie au

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secret-captain-swan-blog · 4 years

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Castle on the Hill

English Literature PhD student Emma Swan just needs money to pay for her last semester of grad school tuition. Killian Jones has always dreamed of opening a bookshop but has never been able to afford it. So when the small principality of Misthaven is looking for their lost princess, the pair decide that this might just be the perfect money making scheme.A Multi-chapter Modern Day + Lost Princess (think Rapunzel/Anastasia-esque) + Book Lovers in a Coffee Shop AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 94580/ ?

Prologue (Part 1 + 2) // Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8 // Ch 9 // Ch 10 // Ch 11 // Ch 12 // Ch 13 // Ch 14 // Ch 15 // Ch 16

Read on: Ao3

“Are you ready to go love?” Killian asks. He’s in the kitchen, drying the last of the plates from dinner.

Emma peers her head out of the bedroom, a smile on her face.

“Almost, I just need shoes,” she says.

It’d been a week since Emma had made peace with the Queen. Killian is endlessly proud of her courage and wisdom. He knows for a fact that forgiveness isn’t easy. The fact that Emma was able to forgive the Queen so openly, well, he admires her for that.

It was earlier this week that Emma booked her flight home. Killian’s throat had caught as he looked at the date on the ticket- just a few days before Christmas. Less than two weeks away. He’s tried to imagine spending Christmas without this woman who had firmly planted herself in his life. The thought of Christmas with Ruby and Granny, which had previously been a comforting thought, now makes him feel empty.

It was from this anxiety that he’d suggested they take one last trip to the opera house together. Emma had admitted that she was uncomfortable asking the queen for tickets and Killian agreed. Instead, she’d gotten them from the international student center at the university. It was for a ballet and Killian thought it would be a nice goodbye to a place that had been part of their journey together.

He’s pulled from his thoughts as she walks out of the room a moment later with a smile on her face. She’s dressed in a knee-length black dress with long sleeves and a jeweled belt around her waist to accentuate her thin frame. Her hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, curling over her shoulder. Killian’s eyes linger over her dark eyelashes and bright red lips.

“Do I look alright?” She whispers.

Killian swallows, thinking about how lovely she looks, and how little time they have.

“Wonderful, love,” He manages, before offering her his arm.

Emma grabs her purse, opens the door, and leans on him as they walk out of the apartment. The path to the tram from Emma’s apartment is second nature to Killian now, as is the signature way they board the tram- Emma first with her card and Killian with his leap.

With the change of season, it gets darker now. The tram ride is a blur of light against the dark backdrop of the night sky. Killian weaves his arm around Emma and pulls her close. He cherishes each tiny moment of closeness they get. He wants to feel her for every moment they have left.

They get off at “Opèra” and make their way up to the opera house. The seats aren’t in the private box this time, but among the other International Students in the balcony.

“Maybe we should have invested in opera glasses at this point,” Killian mutters, as he finds his seat. They are still velvet lined and comfortable.

“Nah, it’s nice to see the formations from here. Balcony is good for ballet,” Emma tells him. She glances down at her program. “It’s a guest performance by the Royal Ballet. I saw them do a different show in London. They were spectacular.”

Killian smiles at her, impressed that she’s become a ballet aficionado. Killian doesn’t even know what the show is. He reaches for Emma’s program.

“Anastasia?” He asks, looking at the font swirling on top of a grey background. It’s unfamiliar to him.

“Didn’t you even see the animated movie growing up? With Meg Ryan?” She replies.

He shakes his head after racking his brain and coming up with nothing.

“It was a classic at one of the group homes I was at,” Emma says. “I’d watch it all the time.”

“Is it about the Romanov girl?” He asks, thinking to a history class he had in England.

She nods. “Yeah, well, the movie is like completely fairy tale. It’s about an orphan who discovers that she’s Princess Anastasia and for some reason she’s in Paris and Rasputin wants to kill her. The songs are great. And there is like this cute, little singing bat.”

Killian laughs, trying to picture it. “We’ll have to watch it sometime.”

Emma nods, “Anyway, weird that there is a ballet about it.”

Killian flips through the program, looking for more information. Emma folds her hands on his shoulder and rests her chin on them, peering at it.

“But look, this ballet was made way before that kids’ movie,” she points out.

“What does that mean?”

But then the orchestra begins the overture and the lights dim. They both take their gaze from the program to the stage.

The first two acts are lively, full of pre-Revolution Imperial memories. It’s balls and family and ornate displays of royalty. It’s like the kind of vision that lives on the corners of Killian’s memory.

When the third act comes, everything changes. The ballet is now set in a mental hospital in Berlin. The girl who believes she’s Anastasia is dancing madly across the stage. Her steps are crude and wild. Killian shivers, gooseflesh appearing on his arms. She’s delusional. She’s mad. It’s terrifying.

Beside him, he notices Emma gripping the armrest of her chair, her eyes glassy and distant. He reaches out and strokes her arm, then cards his finger through a few strands of her hair. She glances at him, stirred by his touch. Her eyes are haunted and tired. He’d hoped that his touch would soothe her, but she looks so tense.

He tries to understand what could have provoked this. She’d seemed fine at the interval. Then a realization dawns on Killian: she could be remembering.

He’s kept his suspicion quiet for months, ever since Emma asked him not to mention it. He understands her request. No point getting your hopes up about something that might not ever happen.

But he still thinks she might be the real deal. A bit of his soul starts to soar as he thinks of it. For a moment, he lets himself imagine Emma remembering everything and discovering that she is in fact the Lost Princess. He imagines her being fitted for gowns and going to balls, looking brilliant as always. He imagines her moving into a castle, being taken care of properly for once in her life. He imagines her finishing out her PhD here, writing her dissertation while balancing her royal duties. He lets himself dream of her life being here in Misthaven, instead of oceans away on a continent he’s never been to. He likes the certainty of her in this fantasy and perhaps that is the true fantasy of it. A life where Emma is firmly beside him for good.

The final bows are taken and curtain drops. Emma reaches for his hand.

“Can we hurry out? I really need some air,” She tells him.

He nods, squeezing her hand and following her down the aisle. They don’t linger in the lobby. He follows Emma’s lead and they go right to the door.

Once they are in the cool winter air, he watches her take huge gulping breaths. He pulls her towards him into a hug. She doesn’t resist him and she rests her head on his shoulder. He realizes she’s shaking a bit.

“Are you okay, love?” He asks.

She purses her lips and shakes her head. “Not really.”

He doesn’t want to ask her, but the fantasy, the hope of epiphany, can’t leave his mind.

“Have you, erm, remembered anything that’s disturbed you?” He asks softly, letting his head drip down to speak into her ear.

She looks up at him, her forehead wrinkling, “What do you mean, remembered anything?”

He frowns, not knowing how to keep from her from realizing what he thought. Before he can explain, she makes the realization.

She draws away.

“Oh my god, Killian. You can’t still possibly think that I’m Princess Emma. That can’t be further from the truth and you know that as well as I.”

He grimaces, upset that he triggered this reaction in her.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, love,” He says, as Emma takes a few steps back. “I just saw your face and you looked so disturbed. I hoped, foolishly hoped, that it was because you were having some sort of lovely epiphany.”

“Well, I’m did and I’m not,” Emma retorts.

“So what is on your mind?” He asks.

“Let’s go sit by the river,” Emma says.

He knows she’s stalling some sort of conversation, but he follows her nonetheless. He’s pleased that Misthaven is having a small winter heat wave so that it’s tolerable to sit outside. They cross the love-lock bridge and sit along the quai, legs dangling over the water.

He thinks of their first night together at the opera, when they sat together in this same spot, sharing a bottle of champagne. That’s when he tried to kiss Emma for the first time and she shied away from his kiss. So much has changed since then. A wave of reassurance falls over him. If they can go from that embarrassing night to where they are now, they can surely overcome whatever is disturbing her now.

“I was just thinking about how that Anastasia, or I guess her name was Anna,” Emma says. “She had an excuse.”

“What do you mean an excuse?” Killian says.

“For what she was doing, all the pain she is causing,” Emma tells him.

“I don’t believe you’ve caused pain to anyone,” he says, perplexed. “If anything, you’ve made my life, the Queen’s life, much better.”

She shakes her head.

“I did have an epiphany during the show,” Emma says. “But not a good one.”

“Oh?” He questions, daring to reach out and stroke her hair again. She doesn’t draw away from his touch this time. He’s grateful for that.

“I was thinking about Alice,” she says. He can’t help but grimace at the name, a fresh wave of pain flooding over him. “And how disappointed you were that she wasn’t your daughter. You were so upset. I was too. It was like a true loss to realize that someone you thought was your daughter wasn’t.”

Killian nods, the grief still lingering in his bones.

“And I realized that it was exactly what we were doing to the queen,” Emma says. “We’re leading her on, celebrating our sabotage.”

Killian runs his hand down her back. “Emma, love, I don’t think that we’ve been trying to misinform her for a while. I think that she’s come to care for you regardless. Didn’t you say that she said that to you?”

“But it doesn’t matter if we’ve given up on it,” she protests. “That was our intention. We wanted to hurt her. We wanted to take advantage of her pain. We wanted to profit off of it.”

She looks up at him. “It’s despicable. I can’t imagine that we wanted to give that pain you went through to anyone else.”

“Oh Swan,” he says. “I know that was our intention, but can you accept that we’ve done more good than bad? You’ve made the queen so happy.”

“No, there’s no excuse,” Emma says sharply. “We aren’t crazy. We aren’t in a mental hospital, imagining that we are someone else. We were greedy. We were unable to see the Queen as a human person with emotions. It’s disgusting. I’m sorry I was a part of any of this.”

Killian frowns. “Sorry you’ve been with me?”

“No, no, Killian, never,” she says. “I just feel guilty.”

“I know,” he says.

He pulls her towards him. She rests her head on his shoulder.

“I love you,” she says softly.

He kisses her hair, “I love you too, darling.”

“What if we visited the Memorial Gardens tomorrow?” Emma asks.

“Of course, love. Your wish is my command.”

“I just feel like I need to make reparations with the real Princess Emma,” she says.

“I’m sure she’ll forgive you,” he teases. “But for now, let’s go home, shall we Swan?”

The cobblestone path curves up the hill, flanked by rows of houses. The architecture of the houses match the castle in a way. Emma thinks it’s nice. She’s never been in this part of Misthaven before. It’s on the Old Town side of the river, up the hill from the Opera House and Saint Anne’s.

The cobblestone path gives way to an elaborate iron archway made up of floral designs and patterns. A plaque against the wall next to it reads, “Misthaven Memorial Gardens.”

Emma swallows, thinking how bizarre it is that this path leads right to these gardens. It’s as if it’s always been leading her this way. It’s as if Misthaven itself in its fundamental architecture was leading her to these gardens. It’s funny then to think that she hasn’t been there yet. She’s been to art galleries and parks and mountainside hikes and to the opera house. Yet, she hasn’t been to the part of Misthaven that seems to truly lie at its heart. This place that has existed to capture and memorialize the pain of a nation. Emma’s engaged in that pain through stories, through personal testimonies, but she hasn’t let herself be fully immersed in it.

Until now. That’s why she’s here. She wants to feel it all. She wants to understand Princess Emma who was lost, who was murdered on this night. Maybe if she can make sense of it, she’ll stop feeling guilty for a crime she didn’t commit.

The gardens are wooded with the same lovely old trees that Emma noticed in their other forest walks and in the woods near the Du Bois house in Belgium. There isn’t any snow today, because of the unusually warm weather. Indian Summer is what Emma used to call it in America. She wonders if it has the same name here.

She reaches for Killian’s hand and leans on his shoulder. They walk through the forested path till they reach a clearing. It’s all neat gardens here, arranged in a European style with a long pool down the middle, flowering artfully arranged on either side.

“There is a walled garden over there,” Killian says, pointing. “And a bog garden over in that part. There is even a Japanese garden in that area. The Royal Family put it in while I lived there.”

Emma sighs. “I want to know more about that.”

“About what?” Killian asks.

“I want to know what it was like when you lived here. When you left here, that night. Can you tell me?” Her voice is small, soft.

He nods and tugs on her hand. They walk around the castle. Her eyes are drawn to the high ramparts, the swirling towers of the castle in the imposing grey stone. In this back part of the castle a long meadow stretches out, forming a grassy plane that gives way to the forest.

Killian beckons her to a bench. They sit.

“I don’t remember it perfectly,” he says softly. “I was very young.”

She nods, scooching over so that their legs touch. His arm wraps around her back. The other points up at a tower.

“Do you see that? It’s the princess’s tower,” he says. “We knew it was coming for weeks, that there was a threat to the kingdom, a barbarian rebellion brewing deep in the town. There were preparations made. The King and Queen worked out a plan with Liam to make sure the Princess could escape. They knew that their fates were likely fixed, but they wanted Emma to have her best chance to live.”

Emma looks at the tiny tower at the top of the castle, imagining inside a little girl’s bedroom.

Killian continues, “Liam was posted to Princess Emma’s room and stayed there day and night with her till the threat passed or came to fruition. I was ordered to stay there with her as well, so I’d have a chance to escape under Liam’s protection. Liam was to go to America with the girl to seek asylum there. I wasn’t allowed to go, there was worry that one more child would make the thing so risky.”

Emma nods, watching the story dance across Killian’s face.

“Gods, Emma, I wish I could forget that night. It’s haunted me my whole life. Sometimes I still dream about it.”

Regret seeps through her. She’s asked too much of him.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “You don’t have to keep going. I didn’t know-“

He shakes his head, before reaching out to stroke her hair. “Emma, I want you to know all my stories. Even the hard ones. The haunting ones.”

She reaches out to run a thumb over his eyebrow, then along his jawline.

“That night there were gunshots in the castle that awoke us and everything was put into motion. Liam smashed the window, the beautiful stained glass one in the Princess’s room. He had this repelling kit that was already ready to go. He had me hold onto his back and put the Princess flush against his chest. We repelled down and it was terrifying. We didn’t know if there were snipers in the woods. If there were, I’d be the first shot. There were arrows, no guns. It’s hard to get weapons inside of Misthaven, so we think now that they only gave those to insurgents. Anyway, the arrows flickered by my head and I wondered if I was going to die.”

Emma can’t imagine a boy so young dealing with such a terrifying realization.

“When we were half way down, I heard the worst noise I’d ever heard. There was a gun shot, then a scream. I recognized as the Queen’s and I knew she’d been murdered. If she was dead, then surely so was the King. I remembered how kind they were, caring for me and Liam after everything we’d been through. They gave me a chance at an education, a chance to have a good home, to be well-fed even. And now they were gone.”

Emma gulps. She thinks of the woman she knows who is full of more compassion than she’s ever known. She suddenly sees a new side of Mary Margaret. The side that cared for Killian as a child. She might not be her mother, but she was something of that for Killian. Emma’s heart soars at the thought. She can picture Mary Margaret doting on a tiny Killian, reading him books and giving him bon bons.

“My brother told me to run when we reached the ground. He told me I’d be safe at my grans. He took off in one direction with the Princess and I went in another. I didn’t know that’d be the last time I’d see him. I thought that maybe one day he’d return to me. Or he’d call or send for me. There was nothing. I ran through those woods on my own, my heart thumping in my chest, wondering if I’d get caught, if I’d be found. But I wasn’t. I made it to my grans’ safely. She was surprised to see me. She wasn’t particularly nurturing, too old to be as grandma-like as I’d hoped, but she provided for me.”

Emma senses his story ending and leans her head against his shoulder.

“I’m shocked that the queen survived. I’m still upset, sometimes, that Liam didn’t. I used to lie in bed at night as a teenager, when I was in the young offender’s institution, and look at the ceiling and think about that scream. I used to be so angry at the Princess. She was off in America with my brother and here I was alone and betrayed. It’s sad now, I suppose. They both are dead. I was the one who was better off.”

She presses a kiss to his cheek. His arms wrap around her back and he pulls her to him.

She doesn’t realize that he’s teared up until he says in a choked-up voice, “You don’t know how much joy you’ve brought to my life, Emma. I was so sad. I was struggling for so long. And you’ve given me so much hope.”

“Oh Killian,” she replies. “You’ve given me so much too. I’m so grateful for you. Every day.”

There was a part of her that was fighting for so long; that was angry and walled up and hurt for so long. But Killian broke those walls down. Mary Margaret did too. Misthaven truly has been responsible for everything good in her life.

She wishes she could thank it. She wishes she could give something back to this place that has given everything to her.

Her eyes sweep across the field, as she imagines little Princess Emma running across it with Liam. It’s almost too real, too vivid before her eyes.

Where the field meets the forest, she sees something for a moment that she thinks is a figure. At first she shivers, thinking they’ve been watched this whole time. But the figure is too still to be real. There’s three figures.

Oh.

“Is that a statue over there?” She asks Killian.

He nods.

“Let’s go see it,” she says.

They walk across the field slowly, hand clasped tight. The field is dotted with wild flowers, beautiful in the bright light of Indian Summer, but for a moment she imagines them as arrows. She can see the scene of horror, almost too vividly, almost too real, like a ghost of trauma that existed here. It’s like pain dwells so deeply in this space that she can see it before her, as if she was there.

They read the statue. It’s brass, shiny, showing how new the pain is. This isn’t the kind of revolution that happened years ago, but one that floods the memory of everyone in this small country.

The statue is of a family, the Royal Family. She sees Mary Margaret at once. Her hair was longer then, wavy and young. She was so young.

And the King. Emma’s not thought much about the King, as if he was just a side character to this story, but she sees him now, kind-faced and noble. She wonders if he played little games with Princess Emma. She wonders if Mary Margaret loved him as fiercely as Emma herself loves Killian. Yes, she thinks, she must have.

Her eyes finally find the Princess. Emma can’t help but take a step closer. The small girl, with ringlets and a familiar tiara. With a lurch in her gut, Emma knows why it looks familiar. It’s the same she saw in the pawn shop where they met the hooded man in August. It couldn’t be… but she knows it could.

She follows the little girl’s features, her wide eyes, so full of curiosity and hope for the future. Emma fills with rage at everything taken from her, that future ripped away from the small girl.

Emma’s gaze finally lands on her chin. Without thinking, Emma lifts her hand to let her thumb rub over the tiny dip in her chin, just as Killian has done many times to Emma herself. They’ve all been right. They are the same.

It’s so silly, she thinks now, that they wanted to plan this giant con based on blond hair, an accent, and a dimpled chin. It only makes her feel more stupid, more guilty.

So guilty, in fact. It slams Emma in its enormity, tears springing unwillingly to her eyes. So much has been taken away from this family, from Queen Mary Margaret, and she was willing to continue that. Emma wanted to continue to hurt this woman who has been hurt more than anyone deserves in one lifetime.

Emma feels nauseous, dizzy. She can’t be here. She can’t be part of this. In even planning out the impersonation, she participated in this violence against Misthaven. She’s perpetrated the same crime that has been carelessly carried out by greedy girls, by violent men, by rebels who sought to hurt the country that has given her everything.

“Emma,” Killian asks, grasping her arm as she begins to sway. “Are you alright, love?”

She doesn’t want his companionship right now. She’s struggling for breath and the only thing that can free her is admission of the truth.

“I just need some space,” she says. “Do you mind if I walk a bit on my own? I need to clear my mind.”

“Yes, of course, Swan,” he says, dutiful as ever. “I’m going to read for a bit in the English gardens, just around the other side. Come find me when you need me.”

He presses a kiss to her cheek, as her eyes stay glued on the statue.

“Emma,” he whispers. “Look at me.”

She turns to him. He cups her face in his hands, his eyes sincere with concern.

“Don’t get lost in your thoughts, love. Don’t build higher walls.”

She tries to nod, but instead, he lurches forward to put a kiss on her lips. There is an edge of desperation to his lips, as if he is trying to keep her with him. As if he knows what’s on her mind and wants to keep her grounded, before chaos erupts. As if he knows they might only have now.

“I know,” she says, trying to give him a smile.

He squeezes her hand before he walks away.

Emma stays at the statue, her gaze meeting the Princess’s for a few moments as she watches Killian round the castle and out of sight. With her mind made up, she turns. She feels like she’s possessed by a force not of her own. It’s like her feet are willing her in the direction of castle, regardless of what her mind says is foolish or right.

She approaches from a side entrance. There are security guards there with metal detecting wands. They search her bag and let her enter. Inside, sits a desk with a receptionist. She’s struck by how tiny Misthaven is. If this was anywhere else, she wouldn’t even be able to get this far.

“Hi, I’m Emma Swan,” she says. “Is it possible I could speak with Prime Minister Mills? She knows who I am and I think she’d like to listen to me.”

The woman looks surprised, maybe at Emma’s accent or how forward she is, but she nods and picks up the phone. She speaks something in French for a few moments, before turning back to Emma.

“The Prime Minister will be down in a few moments,” she says.

Emma nods, trying to stay calm. She looks around what she thought was a lobby, but now she recognizes it as an entrance hall to a castle. There are twin tapestries on each wall, ornate gold cross hatching across the roof. A magnificent chandelier dangles in the middle of the ceiling.

She wanders closer to the wall, almost in a trance. She wants to reach out and touch the wall, feel the cold stone under her fingers. She feels like she’s lost in one of her old childhood dreams of castle corridors. She shivers as she pulls up the tendrils of memory from those dreams- being a Princess, waiting for someone to save her. She thinks again of social workers from her childhood. The ones who told her that her brain made up those stories, those dreams, to mask whatever truly horrible thing had happened to her as a child. She wonders if she and Princess Emma are akin in that way- having brunt trauma as a child. There’s that.

“Emma,” a voice interrupts.

She was expecting to hear the crisp tutting of, “Miss Swan,” from the Prime Minister. But instead, Emma turns to see the Queen. Her heart swoops.

“What are you doing here?” Mary Margaret asks.

Emma shakes her head, “I was looking to see the Prime Minister, but actually, you’re just the person I wanted to talk to.”

“Oh?” The Queen says.

“I think we should talk,” Emma says.

“Yes, okay,” Mary Margaret replies. “There is a quiet sitting room in the center of the castle. I’ll tell Prime Minister Mills to meet us there when she can. I was just visiting her earlier today and I know she’s quite busy with errands today. Poor dear, on a Saturday too.”

Emma doesn’t have words to form, so she simply nods. Her stomach feels queasy again and dizziness floats through her. God, her hand is shaking.

Emma knows what she has to say. She knows what she has to do.

She follows the Queen through the hallways, until they approach an insignificant looking door. The queen pushes the door and it leads to a small chamber. It’s a bizarre place, with octagon walls and only two doors- one of the floor and one at the top of a tall staircase that curves around the room.

“There are only two entrances,” the Queen explains. “One from the ground floor and one from the Royal Offices, which is now the Prime Minister’s office.”

“Oh,” Emma says, looking up.

An octagonal piece of stained glass covers the ceiling, filling the chamber with colored light everywhere.

“Shall we sit?” Mary Margaret asks. “I can ring for some tea if you wish.”

“No tea,” Emma says.

She feels weird being with the Queen not at her Summer Palace, or the Southern Palace. This space that feels so loaded with sad memories.

They sit in two armchairs in the room. There isn’t much in the chamber- an ornate rug, a fireplace, and a trunk being used a table. It’s so cramped in the small space, yet so much empty air hangs between them.

“I have to tell you everything,” Emma whispers.

“Tell me what, my dear?” The queen asks.

“I have to tell you about what we did, or tried to do,” Emma says.

“Whatever do you mean?” Mary Margaret reaches for Emma’s hand.

She pulls it away. “Killian and I. We befriended you under selfish pretenses, awful pretenses. And I feel wretched about it.”

Emma feels the tears returning, sticking in her throat. “I think I’ll feel awful about it till the day I die.”

The queen frowns and nods Emma to continue.

“We both were in need of money. I needed, and still need, to fund my last semester of graduate school. Killian’s always wanted to open a bookshop. We both had these dreams that needed funding. Killian was approached by a man who wanted to offer us money for me to impersonate the Lost Princess. We were both uncomfortable with the situation and said no,” Emma pauses to sniffle, to breath, to force the words out.

The Queen mistakes that for the end of her admission. “Thanks for telling me. You did the right thing.”

Emma shakes her head. “We didn’t. The more we thought about it, the more we realized that I am very similar to how the lost Princess, your daughter, might be. I have an American accent. I have blond hair, green eyes-“ Emma looks up at the queen, at the bits of her face that mirror her own. “I have your chin. We both knew that you might believe that I am your daughter. We sought out your friendship in hopes that we might profit off it. It was selfish and greedy. We celebrated each time that you thought I might be your daughter.”

“Oh,” Mary Margaret breathes. Her face is disappointed, as she should be.

“We kind of gave up on it over time. I think I realized that my friendship with you was enough. That I didn’t need to convince you to think I am your daughter for you to treat me with that same care. But if I really knew better, I’d have told you up front about our plan. I still deceived you.”

The queen swallows and frowns.

“I’m sorry,” Emma says, burning with shame. “I’m sorry that it took me so long to tell you. I’m sorry I got mad at you for keeping secrets when I was keeping secrets of my own.”

“What makes you tell me now?” The queen says.

“Ever since Killian found out that the child, Alice, wasn’t his, I’ve been realizing something” Emma murmurs. She realizes that there are tears on her face. “That same pain that Killian was going through, it was exactly what had happened to you time and time again. You’d gotten your hopes up. You thought you’d found a family, but you just were being tricked. And I was doing that to you too.”

There is a moment of silence between them, tension waivers in the air. Emma waits for her admonishment. Or a prison sentence. Or whatever she feels she need to tell Emma.

But Emma is free now. The guilt that has clung to her grossly, sticking behind her knees, making her scratchy, is gone now. She wipes away the tears that linger the creases of her eyes. Whatever comes, she said what she needed to.

“I’m leaving in just a few weeks or so,” Emma says. “But I can leave sooner. Or if there is some other punishment, whatever it is. I’m sorry.”

The Queen’s assembles her visage, before closing her eyes and sighing.

“Emma, this isn’t your fault,” Mary Margaret tells her.

“But-” Emma starts, looking at her hands. She twists them awkwardly, too ashamed to look at the queen.

“I told you months ago. You are valuable to me. You matter to me,” The queen says. “I didn’t say that to you because I thought you were my daughter.”

Emma looks up.

“I said it because you are my friend, my mentee,” the queen said. “I do admit, I got my hopes up at first that maybe you were her. I wanted to share things I loved about her with you. I wanted you to fill her void. But that day, when Regina found us when we were riding, I realized that I cared about you Emma Swan, not Princess Emma. I connected with you. With the girls that came before you, they were fake in their interests. They weren’t lovers of literature, like you are. They didn’t care about opera or tea or intelligent conversation. You’re different, Emma. You’re authentic.”

The queen’s speech makes her feel dizzy. She doesn’t know if she should fall into her arms and together share a soulful cry, hearts joined in a combined lost-and-found reunion. Another part of Emma, the part of her that is instinctual and conditioned from a lifetime of loneliness, just wants to start running.

Before Emma’s internal conflict can come to fruition, a voice interrupts them.

“Your majesty, your highness,” A voice says from above.

Both of their heads turn to take in Prime Minister Mills walking down the stairs.

“Prime Minister,” Emma says.

“Regina,” Mary Margaret echoes.

“I thought I’d interrupt,” Regina says, midway down the staircase, “I hope you don’t mind. I heard you were looking for me, Miss Swan, and I am in fact, looking for you as well.”

Emma turns to face where Regina has curved around the room on the stairs. Her stilettos beat out a staccato against the steps.

“Oh right, sorry to bother you Prime Minister,” she mumbles. “I heard you are very busy today.”

“No, you were one of the people I needed to see today, so honestly it’s perfect timing,” Regina says, walking down the final curve. “I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation, your Majesty, but I also believe that I am about to make an entrance at the perfect time as well.”

Emma and Mary Margaret exchange confused glances.

“This week, during our usual meeting, you mentioned that Emma had forgiven you and that you’d agreed to be friends again. As you both know, I’ve been concerned about your friendship for a while. While you both protested that there was no false hope between either of you, we both know that was a lie. You’ve both just said it yourself.”

Emma wants to protest, but she knows that the Prime Minister is right. They did just say it.

“So, I went ahead and did something a little wild. I hope you forgive me, but I am, in fact, Prime Minister. I had samples of DNA taken from each of your places of residence and tested. I must admit, I was a little impatient to get to the bottom of it and find out once and for all who this woman is.”

She gives a vague wave at Emma.

“The lab tests came back this morning. Emma Swan, Your Royal Highness, you are Her Majesty’s daughter.”

The news slams into Emma. She grips a table to steady herself as the world seems to move around her.

She’s the lost princess? She’s Princess Emma?

But she can’t be. It must be a joke. A prank. It must be some sort of “get this little orphan’s hopes up and then crush them.” Because she can’t actually be the kind of person that anyone cares about this much. She’s a fake. She’s an impersonator. She’s the kind of person who has had to work her whole life to every tiny thing. She can’t be a princess.

But yet, she looks up and Queen Mary Margaret’s eyes are full of love, tears rimming her eyes.

“Yes, of course, she is,” Mary Margaret whispers.

Emma tries to think of Mary Margaret as her mother. She tries to apply the word mom to the elegant queen before her. But all she can think about is how small the room is, how oppressive the walls feel, and trapped she feels. She knows she’s not trapped. She knows that she finally has a family, which is honestly what she’s wanted her whole life. But all she wants is to run.

“Sorry,” Emma says. “I just… I have to go.”

She doesn’t turn back to look at the shock on Mary Margaret or Regina’s face. She doesn’t try to process the tears in her own eyes or the fact that this lifelong instinct of running is kicking in. All she can think is that she has to get out.

Sorry for a long long delay on this chapter! Let me know if you read it so I can figure out if I should keep going on finishing it!

#Captain Swan #cs ff #cs ff au #CS modern AU #CS fic #emma swan #killian jones #cs crew #cs mafia #i honestly don't really remember what the tags are

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teamhook · 4 years

Text

The Orphanage ~~ CS AU

I wanna thank @ultraluckycatnd for letting me talk things over, unleash my crazy and helping me when I got stuck. She also checked it over. @gingerchangeling for Betaing and being patient with me. She’s the sweetest!

Never enough eyes to look over a fic, specially if it’s mine.

FFN

AO3

A/N: Not all beginnings are happy, but sometimes the journey makes the end worthwhile.

The Orphanage

Convent of the Sisters of Saint Meissa

The orphanage's dull, colorless walls framed with religious artifacts and idols left little to hope for. The old orphanage was stuck in time without the luxuries of the modern world which currently served as a residential group home for the small towns and surrounding area. The children ranged in age from toddlers to teenagers. This was the place you came when no one wanted you. Emma Swan was one such lost girl.

The young blonde girl had moved from family to family. Once upon a time she had been adopted and had a home. Her happiness didn't last, though. She was soon returned when the family had been blessed with a biological child of their own.

Emma would sneak to the garden to gaze at the buttercups; the colors in sharp contrast to the inside of the archaic building. The garden that night was filled with the aroma of the sweet flowers. The stars and the moon lightly illuminated the colorful blossoms. That is where she first saw him.

The translucent outline of a young child.

She could make out his brown hair, pale skin, and hazel eyes. Her curiosity pulled her to the boy. The closer she got, the colder her surroundings became. She could see her breath as she called out to him. "Hey, who are you?" she asked curiously.

The boy only smiled. "Hello, my name is Henry. Can I be your friend?"

Emma couldn't stop her smile. She didn't have any friends at all; the other kids bullied her by calling her names or taking her things. She had told Mother Superior on them, but that only made things worse.

Nothing else mattered. She had her friend Henry and that was all she needed. He gave her hope. They played together; their favorite game was hide and seek.

The other kids would look at her oddly. The name-calling hadn't been creative, mostly calling her crazy or making fun of her imaginary friend. It should scare her that no one else could see her friend but instead, she felt special. He would only appear to her. Mother Superior would tell the kids that there was nothing wrong with having an imaginary friend.

Henry would encourage her to dream. He would tell her to believe in herself as he did. Following her best friend's advice, she recorded a short song on an old audio tape recorder she found but was interrupted by an older girl in the group. "Poor little Emma, do you really think you are good enough?" the mean girl asked with crossed arms as she glanced at the paper advertisement for a singing competition. "Don't you know Emma? No one wants to hear an orphan sing and you will be alone forever like the rest of us. You are not special." The mean girl walked out of the room.

Emma stared at the ad and crumpled it. "Emma, don't listen to her. She is just jealous because she knows how special you are." Henry smiled as he stood in front of her.

Throughout the rejection, she maintained hope because of her old friend. She never felt alone. Henry had become her constant, her rock.

Sadly there were days when she couldn't shake the feeling of not belonging.

On a fine day, a day that should be a happy day, eleven-year-old Emma and the other younger kids watch as a little girl left in a car for her new home with her adoptive parents. Mother Superior stands next to Emma, as the young girl stared with longing after the family now fading away into the horizon. "Emma, you will have a family someday too."

Once Emma is back in her room she cannot help but mourn for the dream that is slowly dying as she grows older.

The cold gust of air announces her oldest friend's arrival. "Henry, I wanna be alone."

The boy's image solidifies as he smiles at her. "Emma, someday you will have the home you deserve. Once I had a family too, but it wasn't full of love. My mother gave me up to give me my best chance. She was young and fell in love with someone that only wanted to take advantage of her. She left me in a basket outside the door of this very orphanage. I was adopted as a baby but my mother never loved me," Henry sadly confessed. "That is why I'm here. She liked to push me to conquer my fears and one time she pushed too far." He shrugged.

"Oh, Henry." Emma wanted to hug her friend. "How do you know all of this?"

"I don't know how but I just know. I believe that is why I'm here." His form started fading, "I'll leave you alone now. Just remember that you will find the home you deserve. I'll help you find it." He was gone. She knew in her heart that he was right but the pain lingered a while longer.

~~~At Age Thirteen

She had tried to fill the void. She had been placed at several foster homes as she was getting older but nothing stuck. Sometimes she would run away. Or towards something. She still didn't know which one it was.

On one of those occasions, Emma finds herself living on the streets. She is ripping out pages from a fairytale book she had found in the trash. She starts burning the pages to keep warm. As she reaches the page from The Ugly Duckling story, an old friend makes an appearance, although he's clearer than normal. Henry smiles fondly at her. "Emma, stop. Don't do it. You are a lot like that duckling. I think that is why your name is so fitting. This story is about transformation." He smiles. "Do you know what that duckling turns into? A beautiful Swan."

Emma returns the smile and whispers, "I think the duckling was always a swan and didn't know it."

"You might be right but I think she turned into a swan because of the power of belief, and if someone believes in something hard enough, they can change their fate. Emma, if you don't want to be with those families, Mother Superior will always have a place for you at the convent."

~~~At Age Sixteen

Emma becomes a beautiful young lady but somehow that doesn't make life easier for her. Some of the homes interested in her have less than genuine concern for her well being. All they care about is the money they get paid for keeping her. Once she becomes more trouble than she is worth is sent back to the orphanage. She keeps to herself to stay away from trouble but inevitably it finds her. Whether it be harassment from the other kids or unwanted attention from the husbands and the wives turning a blind eye to the unwanted touches, Henry is always with her protecting her. He saves her, always interrupting at the perfect moment with a loud door slam, breaking things; whatever it takes to stop the advances.

Emma decides that it's time to make her own luck. She hops on a bus to Arizona. In Phoenix, she enters a store, her stomach growling. She goes to steal a box of Poptarts, which are her favorite. She notices a girl watching her, but the latter quickly walks away. Emma goes back to the task at hand, food. She conceals the box of pastries in her jacket. Emma slowly begins her escape when a store employee stops her and is about to call Security. The other girl comes to the rescue approaching Emma with a shopping cart smiling. "Thanks for waiting while I went to go get the card to pay for the food. Did you find them?" The employee doesn't seem to believe them. "Come on, let's go pay." The girl encourages Emma to follow her and discreetly put the Poptarts in the cart. The employee follows them to the checkout where the girl pays with a credit card. Emma was relieved that her cover wasn't blown.

Once outside, Emma tells the girl "Thanks for helping me."

"No problem, my name is Lily. What's yours?"

"Emma."

They become friends. Emma assumes Lily is like her, an unwanted orphan. They both notice a man following them, and Emma believes he is a social worker trying to return Lily to her group home. They manage to lose the man. They find a vacant home that they decide to squat in for the night.

Inside the house while they're playing home, Emma notices a star imprint on Lily's wrist. Lily tells her it makes her special so she draws a matching one on Emma's wrist. The two girls smile at each other. While exploring the house, they find a video camera and record themselves pledging friendship forever.

Later that night, somehow the man that was following them tracked them down. Annoyed, Emma confronts the man as he exits his car. "We are not going back!"

The man smiles. "I'm here to take my daughter home. We have been worried sick."

Emma is shocked. "Daughter? You are not here to take her back to her foster family?"

"No, she is our daughter."

Emma feels betrayed. She walks to Lily. "Your father is here for you."

Emma doesn't stop walking as she leaves her friend behind.

Lily screams out Emma's name but is ignored.

Emma rubs off the star Lily had drawn on her wrist.

She misses Henry; he hasn't shown up for some time now. Perhaps he finally tired of her.

A few months later Emma's new foster family already had two boys. Things are going well. In fact they're even taking her on her first camping trip the following morning. She is so excited that she decides to go pack to be ready. While she is packing she is searching the garage for her sleeping bag and finds Lily hiding out there. Emma can't believe she is there. Emma hisses, "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to apologize. I'm sorry, but I didn't lie about being an orphan. We are alike. The difference is that I was adopted.''

Emma scoffs. "We are not alike. I don't have a family," she sniffles. "No one cares if I run away, no one will come looking for me. So no we are not alike. You should leave before my foster parents see you."

Sadly it's too late.

"Emma, did you find the sleeping bag?" her foster father asked as he approached the garage. He reaches the garage and stares at Emma and Lily. "Who is this?"

"Oh hi, my name is Lily. I'm new to the neighborhood."

Lily's ease at lying should have been a warning to Emma, and it led to Emma begging Lily to leave. The girl refused to leave without her missing crescent moon necklace. Lily's true colors were shown when she steals from Emma's foster family After a few calls, her foster father finds out the truth. Her new foster father had been furious that she had knowingly allowed a criminal near his children. By the end of the night, Emma was left with nothing. Emma grabs her things and runs. At the bus station, Lily approaches her to apologize but Emma doesn't want to hear it. Lily begs her to stay together that she is the only light in her life. Emma walks away from Lily one final time.

Months later Emma ends up in a group home in Richfield, Minnesota. Somehow the camera was still in her possession. One of the older boys noticed it and wanted to take it away from her. She screamed for him to let go of it. Miss Fisher had quickly intervened and promptly returned the camera to Emma. Once the foster mother returned to her activities before the altercation the bully warned Emma of the consequences of not turning over the camera to him. Emma still refused to give it to him. That night she is caught mid escape by Sarah the foster mom. In a moment of conspiracy between the two she tells Emma that the boy is afraid of spiders and where she can find some rubber spiders. Emma decides to stick around. Maybe she is home.

Sometime later, while Emma is at a carnival with Sarah alone, Sarah tells Emma that she is a special girl. Emma starts to feel nervous. She had seen papers from an agency in Sarah's purse. Emma assumes this treat is a goodbye. However, Sarah confesses that she wants to adopt her. Sarah knows Emma might not see her as a mother, but she will be happy to be like an older sister to her. Everything seems to be falling into place for her and she remembers Henry always told her that she would find a home. She misses Henry terribly but she still feels him with her.

The pair are waiting for their bus ride. Suddenly Sarah pushes her in front of oncoming traffic. Before she can think, Emma is pushed onto the sidewalk by an unseen force- Henry. Emma glares at Sarah and flees after realizing that Sarah Fisher is a lunatic who never truly loved her. Emma runs away and never returns.

Seventeen-year old Emma ends up in Portland, OR after getting emancipated before she turns eighteen. She notices an old yellow bug. The car is an antique, she rationalizes; no one would miss it. She is about to break into the car when a whisper stops her. "Emma, don't do it."

She pauses, "Henry?"

"Emma, please don't do it. This will not lead you to your happy ending." Emma's breath hitches, and she slowly walks away from the vehicle. The decision is easy to make because she trusts her only friend.

Minutes later, inside the same yellow car's backseat a man wakes up from a nap.

Across the sea, three men say goodbye to a loved one. The younger two hold each other as their tears fall. The older man, stands behind them promising undying devotion to the boys he now considers his. "My lovely Alice, I promise to take care of your boys as if they were mine. I will guide them and ensure for them to be good men," Dakkar Nemo pledges his lost love. He had met Alice Jones shortly after her husband abandoned her with two young sons. The youngest of the two was only a few months old when he met them, but he was now 17 years old. The slightly older man had become smitten with the young mother soon after their first meeting. Alice had gotten cancer. She had won a few battles but overall lost the war. After her death, in order to start over and provide the young men with a fresh start they leave England and travel to the United States.

Dakkar Nemo had had an exceptional Naval career. He retired not long after he lost his love, and was able to start a successful business in America. They had found their new home in Storybrooke, Maine.

Although Alice Jones had never married Dakkar Nemo, her two boys had grown to love the man that doted on their beloved mother.

The eldest boy enlists in the Navy following in his father's steps. The youngest decided to stay in their new home.

~~~At Age Twenty-One

Emma continues her life of petty crime, just enough to survive on. For years she was able to get away with it. While traveling back to the Maine area where she was found as a baby, she asks an old lady at the local diner for information about anyone who might remember the incident, but she receives nothing. Escaping her troubled past with the law just in time, each time it catches up with her.

She was so close to the orphanage she had called home in her youth. While at the local library she was so lost in her research she didn't notice an older woman sitting down next to her. The lady looked over Emma's shoulder guessing that the abandoned baby was Emma. A startled Emma turns to leave. "I know you stole from stores in Portland and you finally got arrested and skipped bail."

Emma looks back at the woman and tenses; she has a feeling the woman wants to apprehend her. Emma does what she has learned to do best and runs, leaving her research behind. The woman catches up with Emma at the bus station. A defeated Emma goes with the woman, whose name she learned is Cleo.

They go to a motel. Cleo handcuffed her bounty to the bedpost, and decides to jump in the shower.

While the bondswoman is in the shower Emma picks the handcuffs lock easily and steals money from Cleo's wallet. Emma finds an old picture of a girl she suspects is the woman's daughter. Emma is about to leave, but she spots Cleo's laptop which has access to courthouse documents. She does some quick browsing, and discovers the Camden County Courthouse has a file on her.

Cleo gets out of the restroom to find Emma staring at the computer screen. In a moment of weakness, Cleo decides to help her. Emma reminds her of her daughter. They drive to Camden to get the file. "Emma, this file might not have the answers you are looking for or want to see.."

Emma looks at the woman, "I have to try."

Even with Cleo's help the search had been pointless. No solid leads to follow. Days had become weeks and Cleo notices the disappointment in Emma each time they reached a dead end.

"Do you see this?" Cleo points to her red jacket.

"Yeah, what about it? It's just a jacket."

"No Emma, this is my armor. You need to learn how to protect yourself."

Emma's tear-filled eyes, "I just want to go home."

"Emma, I think you should let go of the past, your parents. Sweetie, you're not going to find them. You should pay for your crimes, and start a new life."

"You don't care about me. All you care about is your payout for taking me in."

Cleo stares at Emma, her guilt over giving up her daughter is haunting her.

"I'm going to help you."

"Why would you want to help me?"

"You remind me of my daughter." With those words, Cleo decides to take Emma under her wing. Cleo had gotten some legal help and in the end, Emma was only given community service since her petty crimes had not been too costly.

Emma convinces Cleo to look for her daughter.

"What if she doesn't want to see me?"

"If I was her…. Hell I am her! If I was in her shoes, I'd want to see my parents," Emma says sadly. "It won't be easy but isn't she worth it?"

Working together they soon find Cleo's daughter, Tasha Morris. They find her in Boston working in a clothing store. The reunion is a whirlwind of emotions at first but in the end, it's the calm after the storm.

A few years later they go into business together using their combined savings to open a bonds company, Fox Swan Armour Bonds and PI. They stay in Boston in order for Cleo to stay close to her daughter. Emma understands why they don't want to be apart.

Henry has been quiet since Cleo found her. But Emma tries to not let the yearning of a family of her own haunt her.

~~~At Age Twenty-Four

Things were good for Emma. She was part of a successful business, and Cleo and Tasha were the closest thing to family she had. But something was still missing.

Chasing after her newest skip, a wannabe writer, Emma ends up in a small town in Maine. Storybrooke by all accounts appeared to be straight out of a fairy tale. Perhaps that is what drew the writer to it. He had a good lead on her and she was losing him as she was approaching the corner. Should she go straight or turn the corner? Emma turn - a voice from the past tells her. She turns, except now she's not running into her skip, but a different man as they collide. They both fall and her skip is gone.

Emma mutters, "Shit" as she turns to the cause of her lost paycheck.

Beautiful blue eyes stare up at her from his spot on the floor. He turns to gather his things. "Lass, I'm sorry about that."

"Yeah, well he got away," she sighs dramatically. "What's all that?" she asked as she pointed at the objects he was putting in a box. Some hooks, an iron wolf, and other decorative items.

"Just some of my work," he says as he finally rises to his feet and extends his free hand for her to hold.

She hesitates for a second before he is pulling her up. "So what do you do?"

"I'm a blacksmith."

"What are you, two hundred or something?"

He laughs. "It's mostly artistic work with iron. I do what blacksmiths did in the old days too when needed."

"How about you, lass? What were you in such a hurry to capture?"

"Well, I'm a bail bonds person, and I was chasing a big pay day. He gave me the slip. I will get him, it's just going to take longer than I wanted."

"Ah, you're a tough lass. I'm sure you will get your man." He looked at his box. Nothing seemed damaged. "I'm sorry, where are my manners. My name is Killian Jones."

She smiled. "I'm Emma Swan. I guess I better go. It was nice meeting you. Sort of." She was about to walk away, this time in the opposite direction.

"Swan, if you're going to stick around, you should go to Granny's Inn. That's the only hotel in town. Unless your man has family here, you should probably find him there."

"Yeah, cause I didn't think about that, but thanks." She didn't mean to be snarky. It wasn't his fault she lost the skip. "I'm sure the dude is long gone. I was just going to go see if I could get something to eat. Then, maybe see if I get lucky and get a lead."

"If you don't mind some company, I was going to get lunch myself."

Emma was hungry and the guy had been nice. There's something about him that makes her feel comfortable and apparently her stomach agrees, so it growls. "Okay, so where are we going?"

Killian smiles. "Come along, Granny's Diner is this way." He points in the direction that she was coming from.

Emma vaguely remembers seeing the little diner on her drive into town. It was a quick walk to the diner from where they were. The bell rings as they enter and they find a seat.

"This feels very cozy, very homey."

"Aye, it is. Granny is everyone's grandmum."

"So what do you recommend?"

He looks at her and smiles. "I have a feeling you will love the grilled cheese with onion rings."

The pair enjoys their meal. Killian introduces Emma to the local Sheriff, a greying, good looking mid-forties man, and his perfect counterpart, his bubbly, energetic wife in hopes that he can help with finding the elusive skip.

With the Sheriff and his wife's information on a potential match for her skip, Emma was able to use the background they'd given her to track him down. Turns out the wannabe writer was the adoptive son of the town carpenter. Emma's heart broke for the kind old man as she cuffed his son. She was happy that Sheriff Nolan was there to explain to the man the situation his son, August, was in. Emma had exchanged cards with the Sheriff.

Emma was about to leave the town when Killian stops her to give her a small token. He had one of his first sculptures with him, a swan. She hands him a card just in case he ever needs it.

A couple of days after meeting the young bail bonds woman, the Nolans can't stop thinking about her. Sheriff Nolan was talking with his wife about it. "Sweetheart, I know what you're thinking, and I-" "David, I know what you're going to say. That it's not her and that you don't want me to get my hopes up. I mean we don't know anything about her. But, I can't help it." His wife, Mary Margaret, puts her hand on her heart. "This time, it's different. I feel it here, and it's not because of her name or because she has my chin or that she has your hair. This is it. Our girl found us." She finishes with tears in her eyes.

"Sweetheart, how can you be so sure she's an orphan or ever was?" He didn't want to have to pick up the pieces of her broken heart once more.

"She had a look in her eyes. That look was there when we told her about Marco adopting August as a young boy, and again when we told her he had been getting in trouble with that Cassidy boy, and that the last we saw him was when they stole poor Marco's old yellow Volkswagen and ran away, breaking poor Marco's heart. That was until he showed up here last week. I think that's why she gave them some time to spend together before she hauled him away."

"What are you planning on doing? You can't just tell her, she will think we're crazy."

"The card she gave you says Private Investigator too, right? Well, I'm going to call the number and speak to her boss."

~~~Weeks Later

Back in Boston, Emma can't shake the feeling that she's missing something. She had stayed in touch with both Killian and the Nolans. Killian in particular was never far from her mind, her eyes always landing on the swan sculpture that he had given her that day. On her birthday, she had chosen to stay home. Cleo and Tasha had given her their gifts earlier. Tasha gave her a red leather jacket from the store she worked at. Cleo, for her part, gifted her a paid week off work and insisted, with a wink, that she return to the small town that had her so captivated. All Emma could do was promise she'd think about it.

As Emma was about to light the candle on her twenty-fifth birthday cupcake, there was a soft knock on her door. She wasn't expecting anyone so she approached the door cautiously.

She opened the door and there stood a smiling Killian Jones, with a single red middlemist.

"Uh, Killian, what are you doing here?" Her wide green eyes blinked, before narrowing in suspicion. "And how did you know where I live?".

"Lass, may I come in? I promise I will answer whatever questions you might have." His blinding smile warmed her heart.

"Ok, but don't think I'm taking my eyes off of you for a second."

"I would despair if you did." Killian slowly entered her apartment.

Emma guided him to the sofa in her living room.

"I made a delivery not far from here, and I thought I could surprise you. I hope I'm not overstepping," he sighs.

"So how did you find out my address? I hope you're not some kind of crazy stalker."

He smiles. "I called your office. Your boss said you were off."

"Oh. Cleo told you?"

"She also said today was your birthday."

"Cleo has a big mouth," she sighs. "I always spend my birthday alone."

"She also said you had a week off, and perhaps you would consider going to Storybrooke?" he asked with a hopeful tinge to his voice.

Reluctantly Emma agrees. She feels a connection with the blacksmith that she simply cannot ignore.

Cleo hesitantly agrees to meet with Mary Margaret, where Mary Margaret shares her suspicions about her connection to Emma. Cleo nodded her agreement, saying she will look into it. If she can help Emma find her family like Emma helped her find her lost daughter, she will.

While Emma is in Storybrooke, Cleo visits the Convent of the Sisters of Saint Meissa and speaks with Mother Superior. It had been a miracle to Cleo's ears when they told her that they stored items left behind in the attic. After a few apologies about the oversight from the nuns, they give her a box labeled Emma. Once she is alone in her car, with shaking hands she opens the box. Inside, she finds a blanket with a torn corner just as Mary Margaret described.

Cleo headed towards Storybrooke to meet with Mary Margaret and David Nolan to confirm their suspicions.

Killian and Emma are enjoying their food at Granny's when a text message alert chimes.

"Is something wrong, love?"

"I don't think so, it's Cleo. She wants me to meet her at the Sheriff's office."

"Are you sure nothing is wrong? Your eyebrows are furrowed together," he says, concerned.

"No, it's just that she never calls me on my time off." She sighs, "she's also driving out here."

"If you want, I can go with you," Killian offers.

After a soft encouraging whisper from an old friend she hadn't heard from in a while, without thinking Emma nods.

They arrive at the station soon after.

Sheriff Nolan is waiting for them when he notices the blossoming bond between the town's blacksmith and the lovely bondswoman who happens to share his wife's chin.

Emma turns to Killian nervously. What the hell is going on? Killian squeezes her hand in support as they follow the Sheriff to the interrogation room.

Cleo is sitting next to Mary Margaret Nolan. A box is set on the table. Cleo smiles at her. "Hello, Emma. Please, sit down. You too Mr. Jones."

Killian, always the gentleman, pulled a chair out for her to sit while Mary Margaret is quiet, watching the scene unfold in front of her. David sits next to his wife and immediately holds her hand.

Emma turns to Cleo, "Okay, so what's going on?"

Cleo smiles, "I'll let Sheriff Nolan explain."

Sheriff Nolan clears his throat. "Twenty-five years ago, there were a series of kidnappings. Four newborns were stolen from St. Joseph Hospital during the night shift. The police were able to recover two children right away once the kidnapper was captured. A third was recovered almost a month later. The child had been found by an older couple and they had watched the news. However, there was one child that was not found. Our child. We tried everything. Private Investigators rewards for information, but since the woman had snapped when she took the children, she was of no help to us. She was a nurse at the hospital at the time of the kidnappings. It turned out years before, she had lost her own daughter. Once in custody, though, the woman still remained unresponsive and unwilling to cooperate with police about the whereabouts of the last child. We don't know all the details yet and to be honest, we don't care." David chokes up and turns to his wife, "Mary Margaret could you please continue?"

Mary Margaret sniffles, "We had been on vacation and I went into labor. We never thought that our little girl would be kidnapped at birth. We tried looking for her, but every lead we found was a dead end. Yet we never lost hope. I held on to this for twenty-five years. This is part of a blanket Granny knit for our little girl along with this matching hat." The little hat had twin buttercups on each side.

Cleo smiled, "You will find that the torn piece is a perfect fit to this one." She pulled out a baby blanket with the name Emma with a buttercup next to the name.

Emma is staring at the blanket, her eyes tearing. "What are you saying?"

"Emma, I was so wrong to discourage you from looking. I truly thought I was helping you and protecting you from disappointment. This is your blanket. Mother Superior gave it to me. She was supposed to give it to you, but you never returned."

Killian squeezes her hand gently. "Emma, love, I think you found your family."

"How can you be so sure?" Emma shakingly asks.

Mary Margaret laughs, "For one thing, you have my chin and this is the same blanket I wrapped you in as a baby. But if you need more proof, I'm sure we can get a DNA test. I don't need it, we don't need it." Mary Margaret points to her husband.

Emma still cannot believe it. "I-"

Killian smiles. "Emma, when you love someone you just know."

"I think I need a moment." Emma gets up and rushes out of the room.

Emma walked to her car and needed to think. While contemplating a place to go, she hears footsteps approaching. "Swan, I know you said you needed a moment alone but I was hoping you wouldn't mind if I took you to the perfect spot. If you would allow me to accompany you?" Emma stares at him with teary eyes and agrees.

Emma and Killian arrive at Storybrooke Heritage Park and walk to his favorite bench by the duck pond. They sit in silence as they watch a family of swans swim.

Emma turns to Killian, "I can't believe it's real."

Killian smiles. "It's real. I had wondered why they didn't have kids and Granny told me they had a little girl but it wasn't her story to tell. Emma love, you deserve this. They deserve it too. Please, don't shut them out."

"No, it's just I always wondered why I wasn't enough but I never thought that they were suffering as much as I was."

Killian slowly grabs her face and gently wipes the tears away. "The wondering is over, and now you can have the family you always wanted. Give them a chance, don't lose more time."

Emma smiled, she knew he was right. As crazy as it sounds, it wasn't their fault. Some unbalanced lady did this to them. Should she feel bad for that lady? Because mental issues are horrible, but in this moment she didn't.

"Okay, we can go back." Emma grabbed Killian's hand.

On the way back to the station, she couldn't help but be thankful for meeting Killian; he was nice and sweet. She wasn't blind, he was handsome. She felt connected to him and it was beyond the physical attraction.

Killian could feel her eyes on him. He fights the urge to run his hand through his hair to scratch behind his ear. He feels connected to her. He had laughed when the thought first occurred to him. It was crazy, they've known each other for such a short period. He was smitten, though; that was a given.

Once back at the station, Emma hesitantly embraces her parents for the first time.

Cleo advises her to stick around in Storybrooke longer to get to know her family.

After a few months of living with her parents, Emma finally gives in. She moves permanently to Storybrooke, her life is here. She has loving parents and she had started dating Killian. Their first date had been an experience. Her mother had been so excited, they had gone shopping for a dress to wear and had taken so many pictures of her and Killian. Emma wore a light pink dress that had a v neckline with a bodice and belt. Killian wore his dark jeans, a black shirt, and vest. Her father had done the overprotective thing even though he has known Killian longer than her. She acted like it bothered her, but deep inside it made her smile.

One year and a short courtship later, Emma and Killian marry in an intimate wedding at Storybrooke Park Heritage. Family and close friends gathered to congratulate the pair.

Nine months later they welcome twins Hope and Henry Jones. The little girl shared her dazzling blue eyes with Killian. The boy had hazel eyes that reminded her of an old friend.

This was a new beginning for them all.

Tagging:

@hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @killianjonesownsmyheart1 @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx

#Captain Swan #CS Crew #CS Mafia #cs au ff #cs ff

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lizacstuff · 5 years

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The Unfortunate Pumpkin Pie Nudity Incident

Summary: The week before Thanksgiving Emma Swan finds herself in need of a roommate, however she never bargained for what's about to walk through her door. A Captain Swan modern AU with comedic situations, a wee dash of angst and holiday fluff.

Rating: Teen

Chapter: 1 of 4

Notes: This was originally written for Fall For CS, but I didn’t quite make the deadline. Thanks to @rouhn the generous artist who has allowed me to use the wonderful art she created, and thanks to my dear friend who agreed to beta, the invaluable @counttotwenty who always makes it better.

AO3 Fanfiction.net

“Thanks, we’ll let you know.” Emma opened the door for the departing woman, a fake smile plastered on her face. She tried not to choke on the cloud of patchouli oil that engulfed her as the woman passed. As soon as Emma shut the door on the chilly autumn air, she added softly, “Don’t call us we’ll call you.”

Mary Margaret looked hopefully at Emma. “She was… nice. She’d make a good roommate.”

Emma grimaced and waved her hand in front of her face as if to clear the woman’s strong scent. “I can’t live with this smell-- I think you better light one of your pumpkin-whatever-spice candles to get rid of it-- plus she asked about a space where she could practice her chanting. I’m not living with a smelly… chanter,” Emma’s voice didn’t invite opposition. The smelly chanter had been the fourth person they’d interviewed that day, and despite the chanting and the patchouli, probably the most suitable. The first candidate had been a chain smoker, which made her a different, but wholly unacceptable kind of smelly. The second candidate owned a snake and Emma was not about living with any slithering creatures, and the third candidate had potential, but she had only needed a place for three months, and Emma did not want to go through this again in three months.

The last thing she wanted to do was find a new roommate. Well, the second to last thing. The last thing she wanted to do was give up the loft, but she couldn’t quite afford the spacious two-bedroom on her own, thus the necessity of a roommate. To be accurate, she could technically afford it on her Storybrooke Sheriff Deputy salary, however she had spent the last year saving up in order to attend Storybrooke University and finish her bachelor’s degree. Her classes were scheduled to start in January, so right now every penny counted.

Emma groaned when she saw that Mary Margaret had taken her up on her joking suggestion and was currently lighting the candle that sat on the coffee table… and the one on the kitchen table. Emma looked around at the abundance, at least to her, of seasonal decorations, all of it Mary Margaret’s doing. There was a wreath of berries, in all shades of orange, above the fireplace, a colorful fake leaf garland on the mantle below it, as well as some sort of real tiny pumpkins and gourds on the kitchen table, kitchen counter and assorted other tabletops. She’d never lived with anyone who decorated like Mary Margaret, and, though, she had yet to admit it to Mary Margaret, she didn’t hate it.

“This is all your fault,” Emma said resolutely.

At that, Mary Margaret looked up from lighting her third seasonally-scented candle. Her eyes had gone wide, as a look of worry stole across her face.

“If you hadn’t taken me in all those months ago,” Emma continued now with humor in her voice, “I wouldn’t know how much I liked this place. I’d be quite content in some one-room hovel on the bad side of town.”

“This is Storybrooke, there is no bad side of town,” Mary Margaret replied automatically, and then with a note of sympathy added, “I don’t need to go, Emma. I could wait until after the wedding to move.”

“Absolutely not.” Emma replied firmly. “I was teasing. You and David belong together now, you were made for that little farm house of his, there is no reason to wait six months on my account, and I’m so grateful to both of you, and not just because you’re letting me sublet this place.” At that, Emma felt an unexpected bit of heat rise behind her eyes and as cover, busied herself with the stack of applications the owner of the building, Gold’s Property Management, had sent over.

Emma rarely did emotions, and until just a year ago when David Nolan had given her a job and then introduced her to his then girlfriend, now fiancé, she’d never really done friends, or relationships or really anything that had to do with forming connections with other humans. Emma’s life had not been easy. Her childhood spent in and out of foster homes, her adolescence spent in and out of group homes, her late teens spent partly in juvenile detention. A long story that one. However, she’d persevered. She’d turned things around and made a life for herself as a bail bonds person in the city and she’d done it all on her own. Grudgingly, over the last year, she’d also learned it was nice to have people. Mary Margaret was only moving a few miles away, and she knew she’d still see her, and she’d see David at work almost every day, but it still felt like she was losing something important.

Emma glanced down at the stack of applications in her hands. “We’ll find someone,” she said and then let out an involuntary sigh.

Mary Margaret eyed her suspiciously. “That was an awfully big sigh, is there anything else wrong?”

“No,” Emma replied quickly. “Nothing.”

“Emma…”

Emma knew if she admitted that she was feeling a bit blue at the prospect of Mary Margaret moving out her friend would never leave, instead she smiled widely, and her voice took on a teasing lilt. “It’s just that I moved in here last January after all your holiday decorations were down. If this is what you do for fall, I was hoping to see the Mary Margaret Christmas extravaganza I’ve heard so much about.”

“You will!” Mary Margaret exclaimed, as her face lit up like a Christmas tree. “You’ll come to the farm all the time. Next week for Thanksgiving, though we won’t have the decorations up yet, and then we’ll have a party in mid-December, and you’ll definitely join us on Christmas and basically any other time you want to come over, you’re welcome.” Emma smiled fondly at her, but also immediately regretted bringing up the holidays. Truth be told Emma didn’t really do… any of it. She preferred to hunker down and ignore it until it was over. “Oh, and I’ll leave you some decorations. I have more than I ever put up, we’ll make this place super Christmasy, you won’t even recognize it.”

Now Emma was really regretting bringing it up, so instead of agreeing she turned her attention back to the task at hand, choosing a person to share her living space. It had taken her 28 years to find Mary Margaret; she was never going to luck into finding someone she could live with and wanted to be friends with again. Therefore, she was treating the living situation as a pure matter of convenience, seeking someone who could pay a share of the bills and would stay out of her way. However, she was going to stand firm on no smoking, no pets – especially snakes, and no chanting.

“So, who’s next?” Mary Margaret asked, nodding to the stack of papers in Emma’s hands.

“Last one,” Emma replied, then looked at her soon to be ex-roommate and waved the discarded applications at her. “Who knew there were so many people who would be unsuitable to live with in this town?”

“Maybe she’s the one.” Mary Margaret gestured to the top one.

Emma glanced at the paper and read, “K. Jones.” She turned the application towards Mary Margaret and showed her the photo of the late-20 something. An image of a woman with a wide, friendly smile, pale skin, dark red hair and sprinkling of freckles stared back at her. “What’s your over/under that she’s a drummer in a death metal band and needs to practice for hours every day?” Emma asked sardonically.

“She looks more like a preschool teacher than a drummer,” Mary Margaret replied, “But you can’t judge on appearance.” Then she leveled her best motherly gaze at Emma and chided, “Keep an open mind.”

Emma was about to protest that she had an open mind, had had an open mind with everyone the landlord’s service had sent over, when a knock sounded. Emma welcomed the interruption by saying with faux enthusiasm, “That must be my new red-headed roommate.” She quickly made her way to the door and flung it open.

She should have looked through the peephole. That way she could have been prepared. As it stood she was not prepared, in fact she was woefully unprepared. What’s the word for when one feels like they’ve been stunned into silence? Dumbstruck. That was the word, and that word described Emma as soon as she laid eyes on what was on her doorstep.

The visage that met her was indeed pale, but not a red head, not a 20-something-- though probably just barely north of 30-- and definitely not a woman. No. It was a man. And not just any man, but six feet of tall, dark, and handsome man. He had perfectly mussed black hair, piercing blue eyes and just enough facial scruff that he looked like he had walked straight out of the pages of GQ.

“Hello,” the man said, smiling at Emma. “I’m Killian Jones, here about the sublet.”

Emma continued to stare at him and tried to process his words, but it was hard. Killian Jones. K. Jones. He couldn’t be her potential roommate, could he? She was so confused it took much longer than it should have for her to realize he had an accent. A British accent. Oh my.

When Emma didn’t respond, he looked around the door as if searching for the address. “I’m sorry, love, am I in the wrong place? I’m looking for,” he glanced down at a scrap of paper. “Mary Margaret Blanchard.”

Emma was still staring at him, still dumbstruck, and didn’t notice that Mary Margaret was now standing right behind her. Mary Margaret directed a sideways glanced at Emma waiting to see if she would respond. When she didn’t, the petite brunette smiled brightly at the stranger and stuck out her hand. “Hi, you’re in the right place. I’m Mary Margaret, and this is Emma. It’s quite chilly out there, won’t you come in?”

He hesitated, clearly wary of Emma’s reaction, but then moved past her into the loft. “Thank you, you’re right I probably should have worn something warmer than this old leather jacket.” Once inside, he looked around. “This is very nice... spacious and well appointed… not to mention… festive.”

“Thank you,” Mary Margaret replied cheerfully, clearly taking the compliment, after all, most everything was hers. Though, since her fiancé’s house was already furnished, and they were intending to buy new pieces together, she was planning to leave much of the larger furniture in the loft with Emma. “The place will come with most of what you see here. Do you have your own furniture?”

Killian opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment Emma finally closed the door, whirled around and charged, “You’re a man.”

Emma had spoken with such fire that Killian was momentarily taken aback. He glanced from Emma to Mary Margaret who still was smiling widely, back to Emma. Tentatively, he said, “Aye.”

“You aren’t supposed to be a man.”

Still confused, Killian studied her for a moment, now struck by how attractive she was. Fine features, slender but athletic form apparent despite her sweater and jeans, long blonde hair that flowed down her back, like she was in motion, but she wasn’t, almost as if the force of her personality was propelling her in place. She was attractive indeed.

A wolfish grin stole across his face. “Yet, as you see, I am a man.” He wasn’t sure what made him say the next words out of his mouth, perhaps it was a reaction to realizing how beautiful she was, or perhaps it was her challenging tone, aggressive stance, and the fiery way her eyes danced with anger. “However, I’m happy to provide indisputable proof,” he leaned in, winked at her, and then leaned back and looped his thumb over his belt buckle, “if you require.”

It wasn’t just his words that set Emma off; it was his expression and the tone of his voice. She felt her hackles rise and her defenses go up. She knew his type; she’d used her wiles on plenty of them back when she was a bail bonds person. All good looks and smarm, disguised as charm, and all of them snakes, though not as nice as the pet she’d refused to live with. “I don’t doubt you’re a man, but you’re supposed to be a woman.”

Killian’s grin slipped and once again he glanced at Mary Margaret for help, however she was studying Emma as though she was observing the situation and not taking part. He looked back to Emma and offered with a shrug, “I’m sorry to... disappoint.” The cocky grin returned as he added, “Though, I must say yours is not the usual reaction I get from women.”

Emma rolled her eyes. Who in the hell did this guy think he was? However, she didn’t doubt what he’d said for a second. He was ridiculously attractive and she couldn’t be the only woman to have noticed. She was sure that if one were writing sonnets the only way to describe his eyes would be ‘smoldering.’ After a moment, she realized she’d been silent as she stared into those eyes, and forced herself to speak.

“No.” Emma replied in a rougher voice then normal. She shook her head as if to clear it, as if that would clear away how distractingly handsome the guy was. Business, she had to stay focused on business. She was looking for a roommate, and he wasn’t it. She held out the application so he could see. “K. Jones, the applicant to sublease, the applicant to be my new roommate is supposed to be this woman.” She shook the paper emphatically.

Killian glanced at the application, but then his gaze quickly found Emma again. There was an intrigued glint in his eye. “You would be my new flatmate,” he looked her up and down appraisingly before motioning to the other woman, “and not the lovely Mary Margaret?”

“Disappointed?” the word was out of Emma’s mouth before she could stop it. He was distracting her from the point. The point being that he was not the red headed preschool teacher/death metal drummer she had been expecting.

“Not in the slightest, I like a challenge,” Killian winked at her, before continuing, “And you seem an intriguing challenge indeed, but I take it you’re disappointed I’m not this lass.” He motioned to the photo she was still holding out towards him. “She looks a fine prospective flatmate, but I assure you,” he arched one suggestive eyebrow at her, “We would have more fun.”

Who did this flirty bastard think he was? “Whoa, buddy. Don’t get ahead of yourself. First, I need to figure out who you are and why you don’t match this application. You could be anybody off the street. I’m going to call the office. Mary Margaret, I knew I should have screened applicants myself instead of letting the property management company have a crack at it.”

If Mary Margaret suddenly seemed a tad nervous, and overly interested in studying her fingernails, Emma didn’t notice.

While Emma walked into the kitchen, cell phone pressed to her ear, Mary Margaret smiled at Killian. “While you’re here, we might as well see the place. Shall I give you the tour?”

“Lead on, milady.” Killian gave a slight bow and followed her down the hall.

xXx

A few minutes later, Emma hung up the phone and walked into the living room, saying as she went, “I spoke to Belle at the-”

She stopped short when she realized the room was empty. In confusion, she looked around. They had just been there; she’d only been on with Belle for a few minutes, where could they have gone? A shot of adrenalin hit as she pictured the handsome stranger dragging Mary Margaret outside to his van. All murderers had vans, didn’t they? She rushed to the door, ready to leap into danger to save her soon-to-be ex roommate, when she heard voices down the hall. Moments later, she found a smiling, and safe, Mary Margaret showing Killian Jones the bedroom, specifically *her* bedroom. The flirty bastard was in her bedroom. An involuntary flutter at the thought conflicted with a prickle of irritation at what felt like an invasion of her privacy.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Emma didn’t exactly yell, but her voice was raised and tinged with anger, probably partially fueled from the adrenalin rush of a minute earlier.

Mary Margaret looked startled, and confused. “I was showing your prospective flatmate the bedroom.”

The fact that Mary Margaret had picked up this man’s, Killian’s, vernacular fueled Emma’s already irrational anger. “My bedroom. He doesn’t need to see my bedroom. He won’t be entering my bedroom.” Emma’s voice held finality, but also a bit of a challenge. “For any reason.”

Mary Margaret looked at Killian apologetically before saying, “But Emma, I thought you were planning to switch to my bedroom room when I move out so…”

“Oh,” Emma’s embarrassment was so powerful, that she could almost feel the heat of the blush that stained her cheeks and chest. Mary Margaret was right. She did plan to move to the larger bedroom. Which wouldn’t take much; Mary Margaret had already moved many of her things to David’s. “Right. So...”

“So this would be Killian’s room. I was showing him his room.”

The presumption helped Emma get over her embarrassment. “Again, you’re getting way ahead of things here. This is not going to be his room.”

“Oh?” Mary Margaret inquired, “What did the office say?”

Killian watched them keenly, realizing it was probably in his best interest to stay quiet. Even though this Emma, the woman who would be his flatmate, seemed maddeningly tetchy and excessively defensive, he found himself very much wanting to live here. The location was great, the place was spacious and inviting and, he had to admit, the fiery Emma intrigued him.

“I talked to Belle. She apologized. She said she must have attached the wrong photo by accident. This is the right application, though. See,” Emma held out the application for Mary Margaret’s inspection.

Mary Margaret took it and flipped the page. A smile spread across her face, she looked at Killian and said excitedly, “One of your references is Graham Humbert? Look, Emma, one of his references is Graham.”

Emma took the application back and scowled at the paper, studying it carefully.

“Aye, you know him?” Killian asked hopefully.

“Yes. Well, no, actually. Not really, but he’s very good friends with my boss and Mary Margaret’s fiancé. He’s why I’m here. He was the Sheriff and when he left, David was promoted and hired me as deputy.”

“Ah.” Recognition flitted past Killian’s eyes and he turned to Mary Margaret. “Graham mentioned that once I was settled he would introduce me to his successor and his betrothed, which must be you?”

“Well isn’t this a small world,” Mary Margaret guffawed and slapped her knee a little too hard.

Betrothed? Who spoke like that? Emma once again found herself wondering who this guy was. “How do you know Graham?” Emma asked her voice tinged with suspicion for no real reason other than she wanted to be suspicious. “Are you in law enforcement too?”

“I met him not long after I first arrived in this country; he was an instructor when I was getting certified. However, I find it more interesting that you’re in law enforcement. You look like you’ve broken more laws than enforced.” Killian’s tone was once again flirty.

Emma rolled her eyes at him, again, and then leveled a glare that pretty well conveyed she was done with his sass. “Are you here to annoy me or to convince me you would be an excellent roommate? Because you’re doing a really good job of one of those things.”

Killian swallowed roughly and looked sheepish. “Apologies, lass...” Why did he always do this? Whenever he was a bit off balance in a situation, especially with a woman, he resorted to quips and innuendo. Now he aimed for sincere. “I very much want to convince you that I would make an excellent flatmate. Allow me to do so now. Despite this,” he held up his left hand, it was shod in a black glove, and clenched, and unclenched, his fist. Emma’s eyes went wide as she recognized the mechanical movement of the fingers. It was a prosthetic. She hadn’t noticed until that moment. She stared for a moment and then realized he had started talking again. Her attention reverted to his face as he continued, “...I’m quite handy and can fix minor plumbing and electrical issues. I’m a fair cook, and I’m tidy; years in the Royal Navy conditioned me, so you needn’t worry that I will disrupt the orderly home you so clearly keep.”

Mary Margaret snorted at that, and Emma glared at her. It was true, though. Mary Margaret was the clean one. Emma could get messy, really messy when left to her own devices. However, she wasn’t about to tell this guy that, so she took command of the conversation. “Can you pay the rent?”

“Aye.”

“On time?” she pressed.

“In advance if you prefer.”

“Do you smoke?”

“No.”

“Do you have pets?”

“Only Robin.”

Emma’s eyes narrowed in confusion and Killian could almost see something change in her. One minute he was winning her over, the next minute it was all gone.

“That’s a joke,” Killian added quickly, in an apologetic tone, clearly this lass was no nonsense. “I’m used to ribbing my mate Robin at every opportunity. You see he’s quite the outdoorsman, sometimes I joke he’s more like a forest creature than a hu... never mind. Actually, he’s really the only person I know in town. Robin Locksley?” Killian said the name almost as a question. “Perhaps you know him? He owns Hood’s Tavern not far from the docks? He’s my other reference,” Killian gestured to the application that Emma was still holding.

Emma looked thoughtful. “I’ve been there a few times, but I don’t believe I’ve met him.” She glanced at Mary Margaret who was studying the print on Emma’s bedspread very closely. Too closely. “What about you? You know everyone in this town.”

Mary Margaret looked up, before feigning befuddlement. “What?”

Emma shot her a quizzical glance. “Killian’s... mate,” Emma said the word ‘mate’ in a fairly reasonable approximation of Killian’s accent, then continued in her normal voice, “Robin, who owns the tavern by the docks, do you know him?”

Mary Margaret looked thoughtful and tapped her chin. “I believe David knows him, and I’ve met him before while in there. Nice guy. If I remember correctly he’s got an adorable son, but not old enough to be in my class yet.”

“Mary Margaret is an elementary school teacher.” Emma explained to Killian.

His eyes lit up. “Indeed? His son Roland is...” Killian paused and looked as if he was doing advanced mathematics in his head, “...five.” Killian looked triumphant at coming up with the answer. “What level is that on this side of the pond? Nursery school?”

“Kindergarten,” Mary Margaret supplied with a smile.

“Ah.” Killian nodded.

“Do you have children?” Emma blurted. Her curiosity had gotten the best of her.

His eyes went wide at the suggestion and he shook his head quickly.

“Ever been married?” Emma was surprising herself with these questions, but enquiring minds wanted to know. It had nothing to do with how unquestionably handsome he was and the curiosity about his personal status that she felt building deep-down.

“No.”

“Why do you have only one friend in town?” Emma continued her rapid-fire questioning.

Killian chuckled lightly, before venturing to answer. “I don’t know anyone, because I don’t reside here... yet.”

“What brings you to Storybrooke?” Emma inquired, though she felt herself softening towards him. The way his eyes lit up when speaking about his friend’s son. It was... appealing. A guy who liked children couldn’t be so bad.

“My work.”

Emma didn’t bother asking, she just gave him a pointed look.

“I’m with the State Marine Patrol, and they’ve decided to station an officer here,” Killian elaborated.

“So you’re in law enforcement?” Now this was interesting. If he was in law enforcement that probably meant he’d gone through rigorous background checks and was probably an upstanding citizen. Although, she reminded herself, she was in law enforcement and had quite a checkered past.

“Of a sort.”

“What do you mean?”

Killian slipped into professional mode. When it came to his work, he was serious. “It’s true, the Marine Patrol is tasked with maritime security, search and rescue and to enforce laws and regulations, but we’re also involved in scientific research. That’s really why I’m here. Storybrooke University has received a research endowment and the Marine Patrol has granted use of several vessels.”

“You’re a scientist?” Emma asked; his earnest demeanor intrigued her as much as his words. It was such a change from just a few minutes earlier. She was surprised; she never would have guessed he had such... substance.

He laughed good-naturedly at that. “No, love. I’m here to captain the ship.”

Emma nodded thoughtfully. Despite her first impression of him as conceited and smarmy, it was all sounding pretty dang good. A profession that required background checks and some sort of standing in the community, multiple references that David knew, handy around the house, clean, could cook, and pay the rent in advance, not to mention, no smoking or pets. Other than the innuendo, and being excessively good looking, he was checking all the right boxes. Well, most of them.

She shot him a penetrating stare and said, “One last question, do you chant and what do you smell like?”

His eyes went wide at the questions, but he sensed he was close to closing the deal, so he answered as best as he could. “Chant? Uh...I don’t... chant. I’ve been known to sing in the shower, but I needn’t if it bothers you. As far as how I smell,” he tilted his head down timidly as if afraid of what odors he might find there, “I’m afraid you’ll have to tell me... is something wrong?”

“No, you smell fine. Good. Fine.” Emma stuttered, newly embarrassed, however that didn’t deter her. “Right now. But I don’t know how you normally smell. Maybe this is just interview smell. What do you put on in the morning?”

Killian’s cheeks turned red and he reached up and itched behind his ear with his index finger; this might be the most difficult interview he’d ever experienced. “Erm... put on? You mean like a bar of soap? I don’t remember what brand it is, but it’s just regular... soap.”

“So you don’t wear Patchouli oil?”

Killian looked at her in confusion. “I’m not familiar...”

“So you don’t plan on smelling weird?”

Killian glanced to Mary Margaret, clearly looking for help and this time she finally came to his rescue. She smiled kindly at him and explained, “You’ll have to humor Emma. You see the last applicant was very... earthy and she had quite a... pungent, self-inflicted, odor. I’m afraid Emma was traumatized by it.”

His eyes went wide in understanding. “Well... I wouldn’t describe myself as earthy, but the research is to do with fish and other sea creatures. I can’t promise... I mean it’s possible that I could come home smelling of... the sea.”

She lived in a fishing village; everything smelled of the sea, so she could live with that. Emma glanced at Mary Margaret. She gave her a small nod of approval and it was the last bit of confidence Emma needed to make the decision. “The room is yours if you want it, Killian.”

A wide grin broke out across his face. Emma was glad she didn’t have to say anything more. Because a smile like that, on a man who looked like that, it was... trouble.

This might be a very bad idea.

Xxx

To be continued

Chapter 2

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fanfiction #cs mafia #cs modern au #my fic #the unfortunate pumpkin pie nudity incident

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