#cs auroras

[capricioussun]

Had a really strange idea for an au. It's sort of like a horror-au, except instead of starting off as a typical ut or uf and devolving due to circumstances, it's more innate.

I was thinking what started it had something to do with the core and the barrier, sort of like...monsters were never meant to be trapped in a magic enclosure, on top of what's essentially "magic radiation" that bleeds off of the core, monsters began to mutate over time.

I mostly thought about the brothers, Undyne, Grillby, and Asgore, but due to the gradual changes, their ways of life started to decay as well. By the time the seventh human would fall down, their once structured society would've broken down a lot. It's not a total free for all, but it's nothing organized even remotely efficiently. Undyne mostly only still obeys Asgore because he’s their best bet at freedom, while Sans and Papyrus are part of the "guard" to keep their own heads above water.

It's pretty fucked up and scary but also a little...silly? Idk, it's not as miserable as HF, I guess mostly just because that's how things are for them..? Hard to explain the tone I'm imagining, also haven't fleshed it out too much yet, still in its very early stages of conceptualization. Just thought I'd share bc Undyne is really big and scary and sort of amphibious? Like, she depends on water a lot more and she's messed up fr.

Papyrus is also massive but he’s friendly :*) he’s like hiii hi? Hello =<] though he miiight be a cannibal and Sans makes puns about that neither confirming nor denying it. He might also be a cannibal. He is also big but he acts purposefully scary. Asgore is like. Melting. He’s really fucked up rip divorce man ✌️😔

[ophii]

aurora hyperfixation is slowly returning.... cs au doodles come forth...

[vi-enti]

4 and 11!

4. which cryptid being do you believe in?

many. many of them. but i'm gonna be lame and say mothman

11. favorite extracurricular activity?

in terms of school, when i was in school my favorite extracurricular was dance. even if it was Hell i still loved it (now all i do is play video games lmao)

[writingthroughthenight]

Sleeping Beauty

In days of old, a king and queen sadly barren

Prayed that Heaven above would gift them with children.

Some moons later, a beautiful princess was born

By a delighted Queen, no longer did she mourn.

To her christening, all fairies were invited 

But one, forgotten, whom all believed departed.

Furious and jealous, she appeared nonetheless

And terrified all who’d come honor the princess.

For she was remembered as being spiteful and cruel

Towards all who crossed her, none excepting this rule.

Their fears she confirmed, when, leaning over the crib

She cried, “At eighteen years her finger shall she prick.”

Cowering, all the fairies but one ran away,

“Not to die, said she, but to sleep until the day

A prince for her shall vanquish foes and objection

To bestow on her a sweet kiss of affection.”

Her words were hailed as the most loving gift given

She was the last to have stood at the crib golden

And rather than beauty, kindness or love most rife,

The fairy bestowed on her the great gift of life!

[jazz-bazz]

if the ghouls have elements based names (i mean elements as in from the periodic table, but in whatever language i think fits)

Swiss : Aurum (Au / gold)

Dew : Mercury (Hg)

Rain : Cobalt (Co)

Mountain : Eisen (Fe / steel in german)

Aether : Yttrium (Y)

Phantom : Caesium (Cs) (this is a pretty one to burn)

Cirrus : Rubi / Rubidium (Rb)

Cumulus : Selen (Se)

Aurora : Lili / Lithium (Li) (another fucking pretty one when burned)

Sunshine : Neon (Ne)

[whumpshaped]

Hiii can we have a look into helle's life when they were alone at the mansion?? (after their siblings left but before they met beck)

-whumppmuhw

masterlist

tw emotional whump, lashing out, vampire whumpee, abandonment

Helle's footsteps were unbearably loud in the empty hallway. The constant, suffocating silence was nothing but a reminder of just how lonely they were, and they felt like they were starting to go a little crazy from it.

"I do not need any of you," they snapped, but the way their own voice bounced off the walls and got swallowed by the stillness did little to make them feel less alone. "I do not need a sire to tell me what to do. I do not need disloyal, ungrateful siblings."

They walked down the stairs, anxious to be doing something, anything, but found they had no idea how to pass the time. The books reminded them of the lady, the harpsichord still held the touch of Nikolai's skillful hands, the chessboard and the deck of cards brought forth memories of Isabella's gentle explanations and Aurora's childish whining about how it wasn't fair that she'd had so much more time to get good at the games.

They should've gotten rid of it all. They should've torn them all up, broken them, thrown them away, they should've purged every single item that served to make them so miserable; but parting with them was an even worse thought.

What if they came back? What would they say about it? Would they be angry with them? Would they call them stupid and emotional? An immature brat who couldn't handle rejection? Or abandonment? Or isolation?

"If you'd wished to hold onto these, you should not have left!" they exclaimed. "I am not the immature one! I am not the one who ran away without a word! What is that if not immaturity? What is it if not cowardice?"

They grabbed the chessboard and threw it against the wall, watching as the wood splintered and broke. The pieces flew in every which direction, rolling around loudly until they inevitably knocked into something and came to a halt.

Way too quickly, everything was still again.

Helle dropped to a crouch, then sat on the carpet, burying their face in their knees. They screamed into the soft fabric of their pants, earnestly, hoping to get out all the pointless frustration and grief. They didn't need any of it. They didn't want it. They didn't want to feel like it had all been for naught.

They stayed like that for a while after, clutching fistfuls of their hair and sobbing like a petulant child, unwilling to face the reality they themself had created. Why, why, why, why them. There were so many others out there, worse people, and yet all the damn tragedies seemed to be standing in line in front of their door.

They just wanted someone to tell them it had been worth it. That it wasn't wrong of them to want something better, to want to be free. That it wasn't a choice between constant torture and debilitating loneliness, or at least it wouldn't be, not forever.

They just wanted a hug, even if it was from a disgusting fucking corpse like themself.

They took a deep breath, slowly untangling their fingers from their hair. They didn't look up yet — they didn't want to see the ruined chessboard, nor imagine Isabella smacking them upside the head for having thrown a tantrum like that. But they breathed, mindfully and deliberately, and it made the weeping stop.

Clearly, there was nothing to do in the mansion. They had to get out.

They pushed themself to their feet, swaying a little from the utter exhaustion of it all, and walked to the front door. There would be plenty of warm bodies to hold out there, no? What did they need vampires for?

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @thecyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump @d-cs @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @tauntedoctopuses @blueyellow8green @typewrittenfangs @whumpsoda @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @auroragehenna @whumpedydump

[phantomime-para]

Knowing that it will take a while before the full game releasess, I'm going to give you guys a few short character bios to get to know some of the NPCs of the full game a little betterr X>

Firstt, we speak of the "gods" and "goddesses" of the world of CS (this is in quotations because they're simply false godss). In the work of CS, there are 7 false "gods" and "goddessess"

Each of these "gods" and "goddesses" have an invisible force called "Aurora" that allows them to have the power to create worlds and use their powers on people in those worlds within the confines of the floating island high in the sky where they livee, well hidden from the people living in the worlds beloww

Klames: Klames is the "goddess" of love and sinn, mother of Phantom Scott and loving wife to Morbiuss. A kind soul with the power to make people fall in lovee. She's something of a social girll, having befriended all of the other "gods" and seeing through Morbius' flawss. Though the problem with making others fall in lovee, is that sometimess... Love can lead to jealousy in the eyes of otherss...

2. Morbius: The "god" of chaoss, father to Phantom Scott and loving husband to Klamess. He is a shoggath with the ability to shapeshift into a more human formm, though with the same skin tone as what he has in his true formm. He also has the powers to cause chaos and destruction in the worlds he createss

He is rather protective of his wife given to what he has seen involving one of the other "godss" (Achlys), though overall he cares deeply about herr. Though the only other "god" other than Klames that he's nice to these days is Bonterr, as the two consider each other to be close friendss

3. Achlys: The "god" of death and the ex-friend of Morbiuss. He is able to shapeshift into a ravenn. As welll, he causes the deaths of people in worlds he createss, whether causing deadly diseases or deadly warss.

Achlys loved Klamess, but so did Morbiuss. So when Klames preferred Morbius instead of himm, Achlys grew very jealous of the guyy.

Around the time Morbius and Klames got marriedd, Achlys and Morbius had a fight due to this jealousy that caused Achlys to lose one of his wingss, causing them to not be friends anymoree

Some time laterr, after the weddingg, he saw Klames at a marketplace with Morbius while she was pregnant with Phantom Scottt, Achlys thought she looked terriblee, and that something had to be wrong to make her look so badd (when in reality she just looked a bit tiredd... This guy doesn't know how pregnancy workss jsjsjss), so Achlys decided that Phantom Scott should be destroyed to protect Klamess (as if that would make her fall in love with himm)...

He tried to kill him once while Klames was sleepingg, though Morbius caught him as he was about to strikee, stopping him from doing anythingg, and banned him from going anywhere near the cave where the two livedd

4. Bonter: The "god" of life and the close friend of Morbius and Klamess. The three have always been good friendss, but their bond grew closer ever since Achlys got banned from the cavee. Bonter has kept a watchful eye over Achlys since thenn, secretly telling Morbius and Klames anything that Achlys says that may be suspiciouss. Much to the unknowing eye of Achlyss

Sometimess, Bonter feels lonely since he doesn't have a wifee, but when he remembers that he's nothing like how Achlys iss, he doesn't feel as badd X'>

5. Avarice: The "god" of vices and the loving husband of Mahleee. He causes people to have vices and act on themm. He has the power to shapeshift into a lionn

6. Mahlee: The "goddess" of virtues and the loving wife of Avaricee. She causes people to have virtues and act on themm. She has the power to shapeshift into a black swann, hence her namee

They're good friends of Morbius and Klamess, though they don't hang around them as much as Bonter hangs around the twoo. The two are almost always seen hanging around each other when spotted at the marketplacee

7. Deraima: The "god" of orderr, he causes order in the worlds he createss. He's the most fragile of all the "gods", so he has the power to control waterr, making a watery shield that can shapeshift into anything he so pleasess. Though most of the time he uses this shield to make himself look larger than he appears to beee, creating a vessel that he can control all by himself as seen in his reference sheett

[gayassdbz]

who do you ship in ouat?

I would say it's just captain swan but I have some soft spots for other ships! I do actually like snowing a lot. I think other than cs, it's maybe the best written ship in the show, and I care them. If we're doing a deep cut to when I was like 13 or 14 I always liked ruby and whale 😭 but now I feel more compelled by belle and ruby in that way. Also I think the way to solve the bisexuality love triangle was to make aurora/phillip/Mulan poly!

[winterchimez]

if you were to meet your moots irl, what kind of date/activities would you like to do with them?

omg weee this is such a cute and fun ask! tagging ones that i talk to frequently 😚

@sungbeam - i'd imagine us having a picnic in a field (maybe han river or smth hahaha) we'd be bringing tons of snacks and honestly i feel like we could chat all day literally abt anything, and scream and simp over men in public 🤡 i'll be bringing some 蛋花��� thermos flask lol, and she promised to bring me eat good vietnamese food if we ever meet irl so there's that 🍜

@juyeonszn - gurl's literally a barista so we gotta go cafe hopping fs 😤 bonus points for doing it in japan cs we both love our animes 🇯🇵 and ofc hitting up in a dance studio we gotta record some tiktok dance challenges tgt fr!!

@daisyvisions - i would love to go shopping with you for some reason HAHAHA we could just have tons of convos and walk through the entire mall and visit the umm well. the store that starts with a v cs. yknow. 🤡

@itsbeeble - based on that ✨ahem✨ sangyeon fic you wrote i would love to bake some treats with you haha baking is actually one of my side hobbies i thought it'll be fun to do it with you 😚

@zzoguri - moni and i will have to attend a concert fs. we will be screaming at the top of our lungs clinging onto each other and record our boys while giving each other some emotional support along the way 🙌 we can also have a fun lil makeup session tgt too hahah you gotta teach me some eye makeup fs 😮‍💨 omg and visit the scotland national musuem cs there's literally a dr who exhibition there!!! (idk if its still on but it was when i was there during spring lol)

@from-izzy - my fellow music enthusiast 🎶 gurl idc im bringing you to london with me we be going door to door to each of the theatres to watch literally EVERYTHING 😤 and ofc you could bring me to the sydney opera house someday

@justalildumpling - j is all about 🥂 so going to a bar it is!! the way i can envision j dragging me to the dance floor and hyping everyone up around is implanted in my brain lmao also we have to go get our matching lipstick fr 🤧💄

@invuwrld - my umm coughs ✨gremlin✨ 🙄 me is thinking of a cozy night of chilling tgt at home while binge watching netflix with a hot cup of cocoa or smth hahhaha i know you watch mackenyu and so do i and we're gonna watch it for ✨the plot✨

@heemingyu - we attending a sabrina carpenter con tgt idc we have to 😤 i remember we had this convo about books so a trip to a cozy library themed coffee shop would be so nice 🥹

@stealanity - my matty unnie will have to bring her baby ally all around paris fs!! i crave for their pastries oml the best croissant ive ever had there when i was there last year 😭 and i would love to enjoy the night life there i think it's just ✨chefs kiss✨

@littleroaes - dora is literally the sweetest human bean omg and since we're both in eu i'd imagine going to christmas markets with you!! def up for staying in a ski resort or smth too and prob witness auroras if we're lucky!!

@kimsohn - we could go to an animal-themed cafe!! idk abt you but i love puppies and i would love to play with them with a good friend so 🥹🐶

@mosviqu - you and i could go on a road trip tgt while blasting some good music on the radio like i need you to rec me some more music besides the ones that i often listen to 🎧 gotta update my spotify list fs

[kmomof4]

A Mistress to No One Part 1 Chapter 2

And we’re back with the masquerade!!! Are you ready for our favorite couple to meet? I sure am!

All the love and hugs again to my bestie @hollyethecurious​, for whom this fic was written, @jrob64​ and @zaharadessert​ for their betaing expertise, and to @motherkatereloyshipper​ for her manips of Emma, Killian, and Cora I used in the artwork! Love you all, ladies!!!

I’ve changed my mind a little bit about the posting schedule for this fic. Ch3 which brings Part 1 to a close is a relatively short chapter and since Pt2 is really the main focus of the fic, I’m going to post Ch3 this Wednesday and start Pt2 next Sunday. Updates will then be weekly.

Thank you all for your enthusiasm for this fic! I can’t tell you what it means to me! I hope you enjoy this one and let me know what you think!

Summary: Bastard Emma Swan enjoys one night of pure magic and romance in the midst of a life of drudgery and abuse- attending a masquerade ball and meeting aristocrat Killian Jones. 

Two years later, the same man she met on the best night of her life reappears, saving her from a dire fate in the process.Now, she must keep herself from falling in love with a man she can never have. But when that proves impossible, is there any hope for a happy ending between two people from such vastly different worlds?

Rating: M (smut in a later ch)

Words: Almost 6900 of 61,6K

Tags: Birthday fic, Inspired by Benedict’s Story in Bridgerton, Smut

On ao3 from the beginning/ current ch

On Tumblr Prologue Ch1

New tag list. Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

@jrob64​ @teamhook​ @winterbaby89​ @hollyethecurious​ @xarandomdreamx​ @undercaffinatednightmare​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @stahlop​ @superchocovian​ @pirateprincessofpizza​ @tiganasummertree​ @anmylica​ @cosette141​ @motherkatereloyshipper​ @zaharadessert​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @jennjenn615​ @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​ @kymbersmith-90​ @booksteaandtoomuchtv​ @wistfulcynic​ @mie779​ @snowbellewells​ @lfh1226-linda​ @aprilqueen84​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @pirateherokillian​ @elfiola​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @justanother-unluckysoul​ @poptart-cat-78​ @myfearless-love​ @goforlaunchcee​ @searchingwardrobes​ @gingerpolyglot​ @gingerchangeling​ @djlbg​ @cocohook38​ @cs-rylie​ @thisonesatellite​ @donteattheappleshook​ @deckerstarblanche​ @veryverynotgoodwrites​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Dearest Reader,

The day of the Jones masquerade ball has arrived and This Author waits with bated breath to behold the finery members of the ton will don for the evening's festivities.

There will of course be the requisite literary characters- This Author understands Countess Cora Spencer will be dressed as the Queen of Hearts of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland fame, with rumors suggesting that young Tilly Jones will be dressed as the title character. There appears to be a full complement of Faire Tale Princesses as Mary Margaret Blanchard plans to dress as Snow White and Aurora Rosen as the Sleeping Beauty.

As for the men, if previous masquerades are any indication, the portly will dress as Henry VIII, with the fit as either the devil or Alexander the Great. The bored (of which the eligible Jones brothers will almost certainly be among) will dress as themselves, in basic black attire with a demi mask as a nod to the occasion. But of course, This Author could always be surprised.

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers

May 30

~*~*~

Killian Jones stood along the wall of his mother’s ballroom, wishing desperately that he was anywhere else but here. As the son of the hostess, and as one of two eligible sons of the hostess, he found himself surrounded by either a host of tittering, banal debutantes, or their bloodthirsty mamas, who he rather thought of as sharks, always on the lookout for eligible bachelors for their trite and simpering daughters. At the moment, he was cornered by an aging shepherdess.

“Another Jones! No other family has blue eyes like the Jones’ do. Which one are you? I know you’re not David, I just saw him.” She waved her hand vaguely toward the other side of the room. “So you must be the Viscount or Number 2. Which is it?”

Killian eyed her coolly, but he was afraid he couldn’t keep the touch of anger he felt out of his gaze. While he loved his family very much and would not truly wish to be a member of any other, he sometimes wished he was seen as less of a Jones and more as himself.

“Number 2,” he bit out.

“Oh, I knew it!” she exclaimed. “I must go tell Aurora. I told her you were number two-”

“Killian,” he all but growled.

“-but she was sure you were the Viscount. That’s why she’s over there, talking to…”

“Please excuse me,” he interrupted her suddenly. “I’ve just noticed someone I must speak to.” It was either that or murder the twittering ninnyhammer. And with this many people in attendance, he didn’t think he could possibly get away with that.

He moved away from her, making his way to the ballroom’s side door, hoping for some peace and quiet, and perhaps a glass of rum in his brother’s study.

“Killian!”

He cursed under his breath. He’d nearly made a clean getaway. He turned to Alice Jones with a smile on his face.

“Good evening, Mother.” She was dressed as some Elizabethan character, probably Shakespearean, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out who. “What can I do for you?”

The dowager viscountess beamed at her son and Killian’s heart sank. Her smile could only mean one thing.

She placed her hand on his arm before speaking. “Would you just look at Ella DeVille over there? Her Little Red Riding Hood costume is just too much red. It makes her look like a vampire. And no one is talking to the poor girl at all. Would you dance with her? Please? For me?”

Killian fought to keep from rolling his eyes. He loved his mother dearly, but if there was one thing that grated on his nerves, it was her tendency to meddle in the romantic affairs of her unmarried children. Followed very closely by not being able to abide a proverbial wallflower at any ball.

“Have mercy, Mother,” he begged. “No one is asking her to dance because she has the most twisted sense of humor and a laugh that can be heard for miles.” He cast his eyes around the room until they landed on another prospect. “I’ll dance with Mary Margaret Blanchard, how’s that?” He turned back to his mother to see her nod her head and the corner of her lips lift in a secret smile.

“That’ll do. Thank you, Killian.” He turned and when his eyes landed on Mary Margaret again, he was reminded that it could have been much worse. He’d known her for years and he really did like her. She was kind and gracious and objectively quite attractive, though he himself wasn’t romantically interested in her. As a result, he was completely confounded on why she hadn’t snagged herself a husband yet. Perhaps she was holding out for someone in particular.

He began to approach her when he heard a wave of whispers behind him. The hair at the nape of his neck stood on end and a sense of anticipation gripped him. He knew he shouldn’t allow anything to distract him from his pledge, but his curiosity overwhelmed him and he turned toward the entrance of the ballroom.

It was as if time stood still.

Just inside the doors stood what he could only describe as a true princess come to life. She was dressed in a beautiful, shining blue gown whose skirt sparkled like diamonds. The bodice and sheer short sleeves were trimmed with silver detailing that flashed when it caught the light. Her mask was silver and had an exquisite swan detail around the right eye. Tendrils of blonde hair framed the other side of her face. But it was her gaze that captured his attention the most. This was a woman filled with unadulterated joy. She looked around the room as if she’d never seen a more glorious sight than all the silly members of the ton dressed in their ridiculous costumes.

Her beauty was truly breathtaking, the way she held herself, the poise, the grace of her movements. She was radiant and he had to be close to her. Mary Margaret was completely forgotten as he strode purposefully across the room. Three other gentlemen had beaten him to the lady and stood around her, showering her with praise and compliments.

She didn’t react as he would expect a lady of the ton to react. She didn’t lower her eyes demurely, she didn’t giggle, she didn’t act coy or as if their adulations were her due. She simply smiled at them. Or beamed rather. He held his hand out to her.

“Pardon me, gentlemen. But the lady has already promised this dance to me.” He gazed into her green eyes, which widened slightly at his bold pronouncement. He wondered if she would expose his lie for what it was.

She smiled and placed her hand in his. He drew her closer, then led her out to the dance floor.

“Have you permission to dance the waltz?”

She shook her head. “I don’t actually dance.”

He was taken aback. “You don’t?”

“I’ve never learned how.”

Killian was stunned speechless for a moment. What young lady of the ton would have reached her age and not learned how to dance?

“There is only one thing to do then.”

She tilted her head at him in question. “And what’s that?”

“I shall teach you.”

Killian was shocked and then utterly charmed when a surprised laugh burst from her lips.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, trying not to sound too affronted.

She contained her giggles and turned her sparkling eyes upon him once again.

“Even I know that dancing lessons are not conducted at a ball.”

“And what does that mean exactly, hmm?” he asked, speculatively, “Even I?”

She didn’t answer.

“Mmhmmm,” he murmured. “Well, I cannot allow this sorry state of affairs to continue. A beautiful lady such as yourself must learn to dance. Come with me.” He began to pull her toward the doors.

“Where are we going?” she laughed. He stopped and turned toward her again.

“Your laugh,” he said. “It’s so lovely.”

Her smile widened impossibly further. “I’m happy.”

“I can tell.” He could only see half her face, but the beaming smile, the laughter and joy in her eyes had him completely under her spell, and he would happily remain there.

“Are you going to answer my question?”

“Hmmm?” he asked, startled out of his musings.

“Where are we going?”

He smirked and moved closer to whisper in her ear. “The private terrace.”

She turned to face him, her face inches from his. “And how would you know of the private terrace?”

Killian pulled back, staring at her in shock. Was it possible she was unaware of his identity? Not that he expected everyone to know who he was, but as a Jones, he was used to being recognized by members of London society. Even if it was only as Number 2.

“Let’s just say I have my ways.” He tugged on her hand again. “Come, dance with me.”

She took a step toward him and Killian knew his life had changed forever.

~*~*~

Emma hadn’t seen him when she arrived at the ball, but she’d felt the magic in the air, a tingling anticipation that melted into a soul-deep warmth when he appeared before her, his gloved hand outstretched. She placed her hand in his and suddenly knew that he was the reason she was here tonight.

He was tall, with artfully tousled dark hair. Sparkling blue eyes, the shade of which she’d never seen in her life, shone out from behind his mask. His strong jawline was covered with dark scruff, with just a touch of ginger evidenced under the lights. He was dressed in tight leather pants, with a black waistcoat over a white blouse which was open enough to show quite a bit of chest hair, and a long, high-collared tan coat over all.

People seemed to know who he was. When her eyes landed on his, the men who’d been fawning over her since she entered the room seemed to back away in deference, and when he’d led her out to the floor, couples already there parted for them.

He was handsome and strong, and for this one moment in time, he was hers. When the clock struck midnight, her life of drudgery would return- a life of abuse, hatred, and attending to Cora’s every wish. Shouldn’t she have this one night of dreams?

It had been so long since she’d allowed herself to dream.

She felt like a princess. And for this one night, he would be her prince.

They emerged into the hallway outside the ballroom and Emma laughed again, simply delighted with everything about the evening. Her prince paused and turned back toward her.

He ran his knuckles along her jaw as he spoke. “Your smile is so lovely, too. I like to watch you smile.” His words were low and cloaked with sincerity and she could almost believe that he meant them and she wasn’t just this evening’s conquest.

But before she could respond, they were interrupted by a blonde prince striding down the hall. “There you are!” he exclaimed as he approached them.

Emma gasped, terrified she’d been found out. But the man was looking at her prince rather than her. “Mother has been looking everywhere for you. You disappeared before dancing with Mary Margaret, and I had to take your place.”

He wore a black mask like her prince, with a white blouse underneath a dark red quilted jacket. His strong jaw and blue eyes were very similar to her prince. She looked back and forth between them before recognition dawned. They were both Jones’! And given the fact they’d both been conscripted to dance with Mary Margaret Blanchard, they must be Killian and David. Killian was her prince, for everyone knew that David Jones was the only male in the family with blonde hair.

“So sorry,” Killian murmured, not sounding the least apologetic. A fact that didn’t escape his brother’s notice. “Some things are unavoidable, I’m afraid.”

“If you leave the party and abandon me to that pack of she-devil debutantes, I swear I shall exact revenge until my dying day.”

“A chance I’m willing to take,” Killian said, looking at Emma. She realized then that David was also staring quite intently at her.

“Good evening, milady,” he said, holding his hand out. When she placed her unoccupied hand in his, he raised it to his mouth and brushed her knuckles with his lips. “May I request an introduction?” he asked, directing his words to his brother.

“You can try your best, but I doubt you’ll succeed. I haven’t even learned the lady’s name yet, myself.”

“You haven’t asked,” Emma replied, with a smirk.

He turned fully toward her. “And would you have told me if I had?”

Emma shrugged. “I’d have told you something.”

“But not the truth,” Killian rejoined, his eyebrow raised at her and a smirk on his face. Emma felt her cheeks heat at the teasing gesture.

“Tonight isn’t a night for truth.” David tilted his head in question at her response and Killian glared at him.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he growled.

David shook his head. “I’m quite sure Mother would prefer for me to be in the ballroom, but it’s hardly required.”

“I require it.”

Emma felt a giggle bubble in her throat.

“Very well,” David sighed. “I shall take myself off, then.”

“Excellent,” said Killian.

“To face the ravenous wolves.”

“Wolves?” Emma questioned.

“Eligible young ladies,” David clarified. “Ravenous wolves, the lot of them. Present company excluded, of course.” Killian rolled his eyes. “My mother would like nothing better than to see my dear older brother married off.” Killian groaned. “Except, perhaps, to see me married off.”

“If only to get you out of the house,” Killian commented drily.

“But then again, you are so much more ancient than I am, brother. Perhaps you should be the first to the gallows, er, altar, I mean.”

This time Emma did giggle.

“Do you have a point?” Killian asked, exasperated in the extreme.

“None, whatsoever. I swear, brother.” David’s eyes were full of false innocence and Emma couldn’t have stopped smiling if her life depended on it. “So then,” he continued, looking back at Emma and motioning with a grand flourish of his arm, “will you take pity on my long-suffering mother and chase my brother down the aisle?”

“Well, he hasn’t asked,” she quipped.

“How much have you had to drink?” Killian grumbled.

“Me?” Emma asked.

“No, him,” Killian replied.

“Nothing at all,” David assured them, “but I am seriously considering remedying that fact. It’ll likely be the only thing to make this evening bearable.”

“If going after a drink removes you from my presence,” Killian said, “then it will be the only thing to make my evening bearable as well.” David grinned, jauntily turned on his heel and was gone.

“It’s nice to see two siblings that love each other so well,” Emma murmured.

Killian had been staring rather menacingly at the door through which David had disappeared when her words drew his attention back to his companion. “You call that love?”

Emma thought of Zelena and Regina, the animosity, the constant bickering and sniping between them. “I do,” she said. “It’s obvious you would lay down your life for him. And he for you, as well.”

Killian released a put upon sigh, then smiled, completely ruining the effect. “I suppose you’re right. As much as I hate to admit it.” He leaned against the wall, looking irresistibly handsome. He cocked his head at her in question. “Do you have any siblings?”

Emma thought about his question for a moment, before answering decisively, “No.”

“You took a rather long time to answer that,” he mused. “I’d think it’d be a rather simple question, not requiring much thought.”

Emma turned her head away from him, not wanting him to see the pain in her eyes. She’d always wanted a family. In truth, she’d never wanted anything more. But her father had never acknowledged her as his, and Cora actively hated her. As much as she’d hoped for a sisterly relationship with Zelena and Regina before she met them, only Regina came anywhere close to being a friend, not the sister Emma had dreamed about.

“I am an only child,” Emma finally said.

“And that’s all you’re going to tell me, isn’t it?”

Emma nodded. “That is all I’m going to tell you.”

“Very well,” he answered, lifting himself from the wall and walking toward her again. “What am I permitted to ask you?”

“Nothing, really,” she said.

“You won’t tell me anything about you?” he asked, a touch of desperation in his voice. “Nothing at all?”

Emma tapped her chin, contemplating her answer. “I suppose I could tell you my favorite color is yellow,” she said, “but beyond that, I shall leave you with no clues as to my identity.”

“Why so many secrets?”

The corner of Emma’s lips rose slightly. “Says the man in a mask.”

“Well, it is a masquerade, after all.”

“This entire night is a secret.”

“It is indeed,” he agreed, his smile dimming somewhat. “Why don’t you ask me a question, then?”

Emma turned to him surprised. “You would have me ask you a question? Any question?”

“Yes,” he exclaimed. “I have no secrets.”

Emma scoffed into her hand. “I find that very difficult to believe. Everyone has secrets. Things they’re ashamed of, things they’d rather remain hidden.”

“Not me,” he countered. “I’ve never seduced a married woman, I have no gambling debts, and my parents were completely faithful to one another.”

Which meant he wasn’t a bastard. Of course he wasn’t. His words made Emma’s throat tighten in heartache. That meant he’d never pursue her, honorably anyway, if he knew that she was.

“You haven’t asked me a question,” he reminded her.

Emma blinked in surprise. He was serious. “Very well, then, wh-what is your favorite color?” she stammered.

Killian’s eyes widened. “You’re going to waste your question on that?”

“I only get one?”

He shrugged. “Seems more than fair, since you’ll not allow me any.”

“Oh, very well then. Yes,” she insisted. “I want to know your favorite color.”

“Blue,” he answered without hesitation.

“Why?” she asked.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chided her. “That’s two.”

“Oh, come on,” she complained. She had to restrain herself from stamping her foot in frustration, although she couldn’t really blame him. “Is it because of the ocean, or the sky?”

Killian’s eyes narrowed at her. “Are you an artist?”

“No, why?”

“Because most people would have taken my answer and left it at that,” he explained. “But you,” he continued, “you want to know why.” He paused for a moment. “Why yellow?”

Emma took a deep breath, unsurprised that he’d turned the question back around at her. “Because of the sun, I suppose. The sunshine makes me happy. When the sun reflects off the dew on the grass…”

“There’s not much grass in London,” he observed.

Emma sighed. “No, there isn’t.”

“You’ve spent time in the country, then?” he asked.

Emma caught her breath. Lady Whistledown might know all the gossip in London, but in all of her verbiage of the Jones family in general, and Killian Jones in particular, she’d never mentioned his perceptiveness. She was going to have to mind her lips, lest she give him any clues to her true identity. She couldn’t imagine what he might be able to glean from such an innocent fact, however. She nodded.

“You never told me why your favorite color is blue.”

Killian’s eyes turned faraway. “I’m not sure. I’m surrounded by the blue eyes of my family. Except Ruby and Henry. Their eyes are green. Like our mother’s.” He leaned toward her. “Like yours.”

Emma had trouble catching her breath. When he looked into her eyes like this, it felt like he could see to her very soul. He leaned back, out of her personal space and she could breathe again.

“Everyone says the Jones’ blue eyes are like the sky on a cloudless summer day. Perhaps that is what I miss. The blue sky.”

“If it wasn’t raining, it wouldn’t be England,” Emma commented drily.

“I went to Italy once; the sun shone constantly.” His face was contemplative as he remembered.

“That sounds like heaven,” she sighed.

“Would you believe that after just a few weeks there, I missed the rain?”

“No!” she exclaimed.

“Yes,” he insisted. “I missed the rain.”

“I spend half my life grumbling about it.”

Killian laughed. “You’d miss it if it was gone.”

Emma fell silent, wondering if there was any part of her life she’d miss if it was gone. She certainly wouldn’t miss Cora or Zelena and the abuse she suffered on a daily basis. But she’d miss Granny and the other servants. She’d probably miss Regina, at least a little bit.

But it was a moot point. After this one perfect, magical night, she’d be right back to her life as usual.

She supposed she could have left Spencer House before now. If she was stronger. If she was braver. But where would she go? She’d need references to get any other type of job and Cora certainly wasn’t going to give her one.

“You’re very quiet,” Killian murmured, drawing her out of her musings.

“I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“What I would miss in my life if it were to drastically change.”

“And do you expect it to change?” He was close now. His eyes intense as they gazed into hers.

“No.”

“Do you want it to change?” he whispered.

She gripped his forearms as he laid his hands gently on her waist.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Oh, yes.”

 He released her and took her gloved hands in his own, kissing each in turn. “Then we shall begin tonight. And tomorrow, you will be transformed.”

“Tonight I am transformed,” she said sadly. “Tomorrow, I will disappear.”

“Then we must pack a lifetime into this very night.”

He cupped her face in his hands and lowered his face to hers, gently brushing her lips with his own. It was her first kiss of any kind and a singularly thrilling sensation, but she couldn’t let it continue. She pulled back and away from him before it could go any further.

“Dance with me,” she begged.

She saw the disappointment in his eyes, but it was quickly swallowed by amusement. “You said you didn’t know how.”

“You said you would teach me,” she countered.

“Come with me.” He grabbed her hand and led her around the corner and up a staircase. At the top, they emerged in front of a pair of French doors. He opened them and led her out onto a small private terrace. It was decorated with several potted plants and housed two chaise lounges to the side. Her sense of direction was excellent, so she knew they were directly above the ball room. She could hear the music floating up from below.

“Handel,” she breathed. “My governess had a music box that played this very tune.”

“You had a governess? You obviously loved her very much.”

There was that perception again. Emma’s cheeks flamed. Why couldn’t she seem to keep her mouth shut around him?

“Is it that obvious?”

Killian grinned, a sort of roguish, smug smirk that made Emma realize she might be better off gluing her lips shut for the rest of the evening.

“Yes. I can see it on your face. The same way I could see that you prefer the country to the city.”

“Well, I did spend more time with her than anyone else in the household.”

“That sounds like a lonely upbringing,” he mused.

“In some ways it was, in others, not so much.”

“You’re such an enigma.”

Emma’s lips lifted in a small smile. “Good.” She paused for a moment. “You didn’t have a lonely upbringing, obviously. All those brothers and sisters running about.”

“You know who I am, then?”

She nodded. “I didn’t at first.”

He grinned. For some reason, that information delighted him. “What gave me away?”

“Your brother,” she answered honestly. “Everyone knows David is the only Jones brother with blonde hair, and since he was perturbed with you about leaving him to the ‘wolves’, as he described them, I knew you had to be the other eligible Jones brother, Killian.”

“You’re quite the detective.”

Emma shrugged. “It wasn’t terribly hard to put together, with as much as Lady Whistledown writes about the Jones family.”

“Ah ha!” he exclaimed. “Now we come to it. You know about me from Lady Whistledown.” His smile was broad again, and Emma found herself responding to it in kind. “So what else do you know about me from Lady Whistledown?”

Too caught up in the back and forth between them, Emma wracked her brain for things she’d read about Killian Jones over the years, completely throwing caution to the wind.

“I know you won some silly horse race last month in Hyde Park.”

Killian was indignant. “It wasn’t silly. And I’m a hundred quid richer for it.”

Emma rolled her eyes at him, a smile on her face.

“I know that you once lopped off the head of one of your sister’s dolls.”

“I’m still wondering how that blasted woman found out about that.”

“Perhaps she’s a Jones,” Emma observed.

“Impossible,” Killian declared. “Not that none of the Jones are smart enough to pull it off, but if she were, we’re too smart not to have figured it out by now.”

“I know your name has not been seriously linked with any young lady of the ton,” she continued, “and that your mother despairs of ever seeing you married.”

Killian wondered if she realized just how many clues to her identity she’d just given him. If she only recognized him because of what was written in Lady Whistledown, then she obviously hadn’t been out in society long. And if she knew about the doll- which Whistledown had written about in the early days of her column, two years before- he knew she had been in London at the same time. Because while Whistledown was now delivered all the way out to the country, in the early days, it had strictly been for Londoners. So she’d been brought up in the country, with a governess, but had been in London for at least the last two years, and yet, not out in society. There was also the matter of her hesitation when she talked about family. A most puzzling conundrum.

Killian shrugged. “The pressure has somewhat lessened of late with the marriage of my brother.”

“The Viscount?”

Killian nodded.

“Whistledown wrote about that, too,” she observed. “In great detail, I might add.”

“Well,” Killian hedged, “she didn’t have all the facts. Lady Whistledown doesn’t know everything that goes on in society.”

“She seems to.”

“Oh, undoubtedly.” His gaze sharpened as he gazed at her. “But I’d venture to say that if she were here on this terrace, Lady Whistledown wouldn’t know your identity. Am I right?”

Emma nodded. “But I’m so well disguised, no one would know who I am.”

“What if you removed your mask? Would she recognize you then?”

Emma’s eyes widened behind her mask and Killian took just a bit of satisfaction from that.

“I don’t think I’m going to answer that,” she said, turning from him and leaning along the edge of the terrace.

“I didn’t think you would.” She could hear him approach behind her. The heat from his body enveloped her and she turned toward him, catching her breath. He was inches away from her and his gaze behind the mask rooted her in place. Emma couldn’t speak. Nor could she breathe through the searing connection between them. Intense blue fire filled his eyes. Here was a man used to getting what he wanted, and right now, he wanted her. There was also an honesty and a strength in his gaze that she desperately wanted to lose herself in. If anyone could take her away from the life she now led, this man could.

This was anticipation. Desire. This is what a gently bred lady shouldn’t even know about. But she wasn’t a gently bred lady. She wasn’t a member of the ton, nor would she ever be. Being alone with him on this terrace was enough to ruin a reputation, but she didn’t have one to begin with. So why should she abide by society’s rules?

She’d always sworn to herself that she would be no one’s mistress. She refused to condemn any child she bore to her own fate as a bastard, but there were miles between one dance, one embrace, one kiss, and falling into his bed and staying there for as long as he’d have her, betraying herself in the process. She desperately wanted this one night. This one night of fantasy.

She lifted her chin, getting lost in the cerulean depths of his eyes.

“You’re not going to run away, then? ” he murmured. She shook her head, realizing that he’d read her once again. She should have been afraid at how easily he seemed to do that, but right now, with this something flaring between them, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

“Are you going to teach me how to dance?” she breathed.

Killian’s smile rivaled the sun she loved so much. “In a waltz, there’s only one rule,” he said, positioning her hand on his shoulder and taking her other hand in his own, “Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

He began to lead her in a basic three step. It was only moments before her foot came down on his.

“I’m so sorry,” she cried, looking up into his face again.

“My sisters have done far worse,” he assured her. “Let’s try again. Can you hear the music?” She shook her head. “Close your eyes and listen closely.”

She did as he bade and in moments she could hear the soft swell of the music over the low murmuring of the crowd below.

“One, two, three, One, two, three,” he murmured in her ear. “Do you feel that? The rise and fall of the music?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He smiled. She didn’t know how she knew he smiled, but she could feel it in the tenor of his voice. “Good. Now watch our feet and allow me to lead you.”

She opened her eyes and looked down. They tried again, and she was suddenly doing it.

“Oh,” she gasped. “This is wonderful!”

“Look up,” he ordered gently.

“But, I’ll stumble again.”

“You won’t. I won’t let you,” he assured her. “You appear to be a natural.” She could hear the smile in his voice again and looked up into his eyes. At that moment, something clicked inside her. He led her in the waltz, twirling her around the terrace, slowly at first, then picking up speed until she was breathless and giddy.

He brought her back close, holding her tightly against him. “What do you feel? In your heart.”

Emma couldn’t speak as she tried to catch her breath. His hard, lean body was solid against hers and she wished she could melt into that strength and never leave.

His hand on the small of her back pressed ever so slightly as he spoke again, more urgently this time. “Answer me. Please.”

“I-” She could barely get it out, but whatever tomorrow would bring, she owed him at least this. “I feel everything,” she admitted. “Joy… fear… anticipation…”

“What do you hear?”

“The music.” She paused. “Like I never have before.”

“And what do you see?”

“I see you.” Her words were only a whisper now. “I see… I see…” She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t say that she saw her very soul in the depths of his blue eyes. The moment was too charged. She was too vulnerable. If she were to admit that here, now- for she could see that he felt the same- if she were to admit the truth to him and he did the same, she’d be lost to him forever, and she couldn’t be unfaithful to herself in that way. Not now, not ever.

“I can’t,” she breathed. “Please don’t speak. Please don’t make me say it.”

He cupped her cheeks in his hands, his eyes darting between hers. “I won’t speak. I won’t say a word.” And then his lips were on hers. It was different this time, no less thrilling than it was earlier, but now he was more forceful. Their first kiss, if you could even call it that, was only a brushing of lips, but this was a full possession of her mouth, still gentle and achingly tender, but cloaked in passion and desire. She was powerless against it. When his tongue touched the seam of her lips, seeking entrance, she opened for him, shuddering in his arms.

The hand in the small of her back, the one that had led her through the waltz, exerted gentle pressure, bringing her even closer to him. She felt very small in his embrace, safe, warm, protected. And like the most beautiful woman in the world.

It made her think anything was possible. Perhaps even a life without servitude and stigma.

One hand moved to the back of her head as his lips left hers and peppered kisses across her jaw and down the slope of her neck. Shivers of pleasure ran down her spine as she lifted her chin to grant him more access.

“Your hair is like silk,” he murmured into her skin.

Emma couldn’t help it. A sudden laugh burst out of her. He pulled back, an amused expression on his face.

“And now what are you laughing at?”

“How do you know my hair is like silk when you have gloves on?” A boyish grin spread across his lips.

“I don’t know how I know. But I do,” he insisted. “But just in case, perhaps I should test that with my bare hands.” He held his hand up to her. “Would you, perhaps, do the honors, milady?”

She couldn’t take her eyes off of his as she gently tugged at each finger in turn and then pulled the entire glove off. The expression in his eyes was something she’d never seen before. Hunger… and something else. Something almost spiritual. His hand cupped her face, the pads of his fingers moving gently across her skin. The tingling left in their wake threatened to completely undo her. They reached up until they ran through the tendrils left loose from her chignon.

“I was wrong,” he murmured. “It’s softer than silk.”

Emma was suddenly overtaken by a desire to touch him the same way. She pulled back slightly and held up her own hand in between them.

“It’s my turn.”

Something flared within his eyes and he grasped her hand with his gloved hand while the other worked at the fingers of her glove. But instead of drawing it down her arm and removing it, he pulled her close and brought his lips to the edge of the glove, all the way at her elbow, and kissed the sensitive skin on the inside of her arm.

“Also softer than silk,” he pressed into her skin. Now he slowly, agonizingly slowly, drew the glove down her arm, following with his lips. Her skin was on fire and she grabbed his shoulder with her other hand, no longer confident in her ability to stand. Just below her elbow, he glanced up, barely breaking the kiss. “You don’t mind if I stay here for a bit?”

Emma couldn’t speak, so she shook her head instead. His tongue darted out and traced the bend of her arm. Emma gasped in pleasure.

“Thought you’d like that.” His words were hot against her skin. She nodded. Or at least, she thought she did. His lips continued his trail down her arm until they paused at her wrist. He remained there for a moment before he pressed a kiss into the very center of her palm and then looked up.

“Who are you?”

She shook her head.

“Please,” he begged. “I have to know.” She stood as still as a statue. He raised her hand to his lips and began running them along her knuckles. “I want to call on you tomorrow. I want to meet your parents. I want to pet your dog. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

She still couldn’t move, but tears filled her eyes.

“I want…” His eyes were surprised, as if he couldn’t believe he was actually saying these words. “I want your future. I want every little part of you.”

She felt a tear slip past her eyelid and she closed her eyes, steeling herself against the emotion in his.

“Don’t say another word. Please. I can’t bear it.”

“Then tell me your name. Tell me how to find you tomorrow.”

“I…” The clanging of bells interrupted her. “What is that?”

“It’s the signal for the unmasking.”

“What?”

“It must be midnight.”

“Midnight?” she gasped, her hand flying to her mask in alarm. “I have to go!” She gathered her skirts in her hands and ran from the terrace.

“Wait!” She heard him call behind her, but she didn’t dare stop. She wiped the stray tears from her face as she flew down the stairs, chastising herself the entire way for completely falling under Killian’s spell and not paying attention to the time.

She arrived at the ballroom doors and whimpered in dismay as she spied her destination on the other side of a wall of people all taking off their masks with delighted laughter and frivolity. She turned to see Killian just reaching the bottom of the stairs behind her. There was nothing for it. She plunged into the sea of humanity, murmuring apologies and excusing herself as she went.

Suddenly she found herself face to face, or face to mask rather, with none other than her stepmother. Why did it have to be her? For if anyone here tonight would recognize her, it would be Cora. Emma caught her breath and tried to keep the terror out of her eyes and words as she excused herself yet again.

“Watch where you’re going,” Cora snapped. Emma watched with open mouth as Cora swished her skirts and walked away. Cora hadn’t recognized her! If she wasn’t so terrified and frantic to get out of the Jones house before Killian caught up with her, she would have laughed with relief. She looked behind her and saw that he’d spotted her. He was making his way across the ballroom with much more efficiency than she had done. With renewed determination, Emma moved forward until she reached the far doors.

There was the Spencer carriage, just like Granny said it would be. She turned and saw that Killian had been waylaid by David, but his visage was thunderous as he caught her eyes. She ran down the steps and into the waiting carriage.

“Go, go, go!” she cried to the driver. And with a crack of the whip, a trundle of wheels, and the clipping of hooves on the cobblestones, she was gone.

~*~*~

Killian could have murdered his brother for stopping him when he’d nearly caught up with his mystery lady. By the time he’d extracted himself and made it outside to the square, she was nowhere to be found.

David, horrified that he’d thwarted Killian’s pursuit, was most apologetic when he returned to the ballroom.

“And you never got her name?” David asked, incredulously.

“She refused to tell me,” Killian exploded. “It was a masquerade ball, brother, in case you didn’t notice!” He hated to sound so hateful, but he was truly at his wits end and had no patience for nonsense.

David took no offense and simply rolled his eyes at his brother. “Yes, I’m aware. But we still recognized most everyone here. And you’re sure you’d never met her before?”

“Never,” he assured him.

David spied the glove Killian still held in his hand. “Is this hers?”

Killian looked down. He’d quite forgotten he still held it in his hand. Hope flared in his chest. “Yes.” He brought it up to his face to get a closer look.

“It has a crest and initials, too,” David observed.

“Do you recognize the crest?” Killian asked.

David shook his head. “No, but Mother will.”

Killian speared him with a look. “I’d like to avoid that scenario, if at all possible.”

David laughed good-naturedly and slapped Killian on the back. “Don’t blame you. But I honestly don’t see any way around it.”

Killian rolled his eyes. “You’re probably right. Damn. Of all the women Mother has trotted out before me, and now I finally found one, I’m going to need her help to find her!”

And he knew it wouldn’t be easy. It was never easy to find someone who didn’t want to be found. And she most definitely didn’t want to be found. She’d made it quite clear that he’d never see her again after tonight. But he had to try. A few dropped hints concerning Lady Whistledown’s column, and this glove. It was all he had to go on.

He’d find her. He’d find her and make her his. Or his name wasn’t Killian Jones.

~*~*~

Thirty minutes after her arrival home, Emma was returned to her true self.

The gown, mask, and slippers had all been returned to where they belonged. Her hair taken down, her makeup scrubbed off.

The princess was gone. The housemaid reappeared.

She crawled into bed, her hand knitted baby blanket bunched up under her chin, and let the tears fall for the life, for the man, she’d never have.

~*~*~

Thank you so much for reading and sharing! I’d love to hear what you thought! Ch3 will be up on Wednesday!

[capricioussun]

For the past few days I have been plagued by thoughts of that alternate horrorfell concept that I cannot for the life of me remember if I talked abt here or not. There's the original one (not like, the first ever, just mine), then the "revamp" that's more just an alternate version since I'm still very attached to the original, and then this version, kind of like...a partial redemption version. I think I may have mentioned it briefly before but ?

In case I haven't, or never got into it too much, this is the gist

At some point between bad and worse, but before it gets its worst, Papyrus actually successfully leads a rebellion against Undyne, winding up with him as King now, Undyne imprisoned, and Sans as his right hand. I believe the primary divergence was that the blow Undyne dealt to Papyrus' head wasn't as severe, so he was able to recover and retain more of himself in the process, leading to the whole successful rebellion thing.

I can't remember exactly how things started improving exactly, but I do know it involved their version of Aliza. It's her sacrifice that seals the deal and enables them to start re-stabilizing as a society. It's not perfect by any means, but it's...better than where they were headed.

It takes a while for Papyrus to really earn trust amongst the people, understandably, but he does, slowly, get there. He even manages to mostly rehabilitate Undyne, but she is barred from holding any positions within the guard or any others that might involve earning more LV.

Since they weren't forced to rely on humans and animals, the mutations never reached the same levels as in standard HF, making them somewhere in between those designs and their former uf selves.

It's still pretty rough around the edges, and everyone is even more screwed up now, but it's certainly better off than regular hf.

Mostly recently, I haven't been thinking up any new lore for it or anything, just daydreaming about their day to day, or maybe random angst or mv scenarios. Would love to. draw them some day. On the fence of if they would have the same hf nicknames or not...

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: “Beautiful in the Broken Places”

~** MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL MY LOVELY CS SHIPMATES!!! I AM SO GRATEFUL TO SHARE THE LOVE FOR OUR PIRATE AND PRINCESS, AND THE ENDURING FRIENDSHIP IT HAS BROUGHT US, WITH ALL OF YOU!!! **~

Summary: Christmas cookie baking leads to a tender family moment for Emma, Killian, and their rather wise little girl. ;)

Notes: This little Christmas story is full of cookies, cuddles, and CS future family fluff! It was originally a CS Secret Santa gift for @kitsunewingstar in 2018, and it takes place a few years after season six, sometime in the time after Henry leaves to find his own story during season seven, but instead takes place in the peaceful domesticity I hope Emma and Killian were able to enjoy back in Storybrooke as a married couple with a little one.

Also available on AO3 or ff.net if that is your preference...

Snowflakes drifted lightly on the crisp winter breeze outside the Swan-Jones home in Storybrooke, Maine, making the pale, grey day look as wintry and bright as it should a scant few hours before Christmas morning.  The downy flecks of feathered white sifted to Earth, gradually covering the spacious yard leading all the way to their dock and stretch of the shore, much to the delight of Hope Swan-Jones, where she stood on the seat of a kitchen chair, braced lightly by her mother’s watchful hands, peering out the window toward the choppy waves with her little palms on the countertop for balance, looking out the window in awe at the bright, almost magical blanket on the ground, turning dry, wintry brown to startlingly beautiful white.

        “Okay, Hopey,” Emma finally urged, trying to move on with their task before her husband got home for supper. A light chuckle crept into her voice as it often did at using her daughter’s self-chosen moniker. One that she could only imagine came from the little girl’s having an older brother whom she idolized named Henry, and two little friends - Thomas and Ashley’s second child Toby and Philip and Aurora’s little girl Mary - making her think her name should end in a ‘y’ too. Emma would have never imagined herself, even a mere five or six years ago, using cutesy nicknames with a second child of her own, puttering away in the kitchen so the place would smell of fresh-baked cookies for her husband’s return. After all the loneliness, pain and doubt of her early life, and the danger, trial and loss of her first few years as the Savior and lost princess when she and Killian’s story began, what she had before her seemed almost too happy and idyllic to be real. “Ready to get down now?” she asked again. “We’d better start icing these cookies if you want some ready for Papa when he gets home and to leave out for Santa tonight.”

        “M’kay!” Hope chirped enthusiastically, jumping down from her perch to scamper over to the table once more, then crawling back up to sit when her mom moved the chair over into its original place, already bouncing excitedly in her seat as Emma came to sit beside her, patiently showing her how to slather the homemade mix of milk and powdered sugar white icing over cutout baked sleighs and bells, Christmas trees and stars, and gingerbread men and women.  Emma iced with her for several minutes, affectionately amused at Hope’s focused concentration on the task until the oven timer went off, signaling that their final batch of the cookies were finished baking.

        For several blissful minutes they worked happily together in the warm, cozy kitchen, mother and daughter content with the lights from their lit tree in the next room blinking in multicolored accompaniment from the hall and providing a festive glow, Emma’s iTunes playing an eclectic holiday mix as cheerful background, and the sweet scent of cookies baking indeed beginning to pervade the room and whole first floor. Even as she began to move cookies from the baking sheet to the wax paper on the counter to cool, Emma kept an eye on Hope so she wouldn’t wiggle from her seat in her enthusiasm and end up falling. Once again she bit back a chuckle at the way her daughter hummed “Here Comes Santy Claus” and mumbled along her childish phrasing of the words softly in her cherubic little girl voice as she worked.

        All was calm in their little space until Hope let out a dismayed gasp and ‘uh oh’ before the sound of cookie pieces hitting the floor alerted her mother’s ears. “What is it, Baby?” Emma turned fully, ready to comfort and soothe at the sad look on her four-year-old’s toddler face, tears already brimming in little eyes that were an exact blue mirror of her father’s.

        “I broke him, Mama,” Hope cried, holding up the gingerbread man she had been painstakingly outlining in white icing and pressing Red Hots to as accents. Clearly, she had pressed one with a bit too much force and snapped the cookie arm off short.

        Moving over to gently gather the little girl into a comforting hug, Emma shushed the gathering tears, knowing that between the impatience and bold reactions Hope had inherited from her, the passion of her father, and the full measure she had received of both their stubbornness, if Hope’s tears got started it would be a whole different scene Killian walked into than the homey welcome she had planned. “It’s alright,” she soothed, holding the gingerbread man Hope had decorated up for the child’s inspection. “You did a good job, kiddo. He’ll still taste the same - and he’s looking pretty sharp, if you ask me. One arm being a little shorter won’t change how good the cookie is at all. It just makes him...unique.” She added the last bit as an afterthought, but something about her words seemed to connect with Hope as her youngest appeared deep in thought for several moments. When she did pipe up again, her words hit Emma square in the chest, making her blink back quick tears of stunned surprise.

        “He’s like Daddy!” Hope exclaimed, taking back her cookie and seeming to hold onto it with a newly reverent care and pride. She looked to her mom for affirmation, and though Emma found her words clogged tightly in her throat, she nodded vigorously to Hope’s assertion, wanting the child to know how very fitting an idea it was.

        “You’re right, Sweetheart,” she finally managed to rasp through her swelling emotions. “Daddy’s just all that much more special, isn’t he? He may be missing a hand, but he can do anything he needs and then some.”

        Nodding vigorously, Hope went back to work, finishing off the gingerbread man with a big, white icing and red sugar heart on its chest “to make it like Papa’s too” she’d explained, and then continued on to make cookie versions of Mama and Henry and Hopey as well, clearly once again pleased with her efforts.

        By the time Killian blustered in the front door from his job as harbormaster, the snow flecking his dark hair and woolen collar and the chilly wind at his back, calling out to ask where his two ladies were this fine Christmas Eve, Emma and Hope were giggling and singing along to “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and licking icing and sprinkles from their sticky fingers over the sink, the Christmas cookie operation nearly complete.

        Her husband’s tall, lean form appeared in the doorway, and for a moment Emma’s breath caught as she sat Hope down and the youngster squealed in delight, running across the room to her papa and launching herself into Killian’s arms. Even after nearly seven years of marriage, multiple battles, curses, separations and reunions, he still looked every bit the dashing rapscallion who had won her heart piece by grudging, gradual piece, and she loved him for it all over again. None of this life they shared would be possible if he hadn’t been willing to stick around and fight for their love, even when she had yet been too guarded and uncertain to believe.

        Their eyes met over Hope’s head as Killian hugged his daughter close to his chest, and the knowing light in his gaze, the glow of warmth he sent toward her with an easy smile assured Emma that in this moment, once again, they understood each other.

        Pulling back to grin broadly at his little girl, Killian asked jovially, “And just what have my two lovely elves been up to all day? It smells like Mrs. Claus’ kitchen itself in here!”

        “We made Christmas cookies!” Hope proclaimed proudly, urging her father forward to the table until she could lean over to reach the particular cookie made in his likeness, and grab it up to offer him. “See Papa? This one is like you. He has an extra big heart, even with his missing hand.”

        Emma could see the pronouncement caught her pirate every bit as strongly as it had her, though - to his credit - he barely seemed to miss a beat, grinning as he blinked misty eyes and planted a kiss atop his daughter’s riotously curling hair. “I do see, my little lass. And that is quite the compliment. I love it.”

        Giggling, but obviously quite satisfied with his effusive praise, Hope held the cookie out, urging her Papa to have the first bite. As Killian oohed and aahed, smacking his lips and singing his little girl’s praises, asking if she was sure she didn’t have Mama use magic they were so good, Emma could only look on with a heart utterly full at how blessed she was to have a home and a family and a house full of love, more than she once could have ever dreamed.

~~~~*~~~*~~~~

        Later that night, when Hope was at last asleep in her room upstairs, after finally being convinced she couldn’t wait up for Santa or he would never come, Emma sat curled up into Killian’s side on the couch in their living room, her sock feet tucked under her, his arm wrapped warmly around her and the pleasing rumble of his laughter vibrating through her from his chest. “Did you tell her that about the cookie?” Killian mused idly, when the nighttime stillness had fallen between them once again. His fingers caressed up and down her arm making Emma shiver with awareness despite the cocoon of blankets and his body heat she had snuggled herself into.

        Shaking her head to his question, Emma could only smile at her husband in fond amusement, both at how he still couldn’t seem to see the amazing man he was to everyone who loved him and that he would believe anyone could influence their own little pirate to believe anything other than what she decided to. “The cookie broke while she was icing it, and I was trying to keep her from getting too upset. I only assured her it would taste just as good, and that it would be unique. She came up with the rest on her own.”

        Killian’s clear, beguiling eyes were suspiciously bright as he shook his head in disbelief. To think that his daughter found him not only whole, but extraordinary, that a child could look up to him of all people, after all he had suffered and all he had done, was still almost more than the reformed Captain Hook could fathom.  “You’re both much more than I deserve,” he whispered against her brow, lips lingering on her skin.

        Emma clutched her husband tightly, humming into his kiss. “That goes right back at you, for me,” she replied fervently, praying he believed how deeply she meant every word.

        Dipping his head to capture her lips fully with his own, cradling her chin in his hand, Killian swept her up, and Emma gave herself over to his ardent embrace, savoring for just one more moment the star lit on the top of their tree and the echo of the glimmering jewels of the many more in the night sky beyond before closing her eyes in bliss. The gift they had been given in this peaceful night together was a special kind of magic all its own - Christmas magic - and she wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.

TAGGING A FEW WHO MIGHT ENJOY: @searchingwardrobes​ @jennjenn615​ @kmomof4​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @jrob64​ @apiratewhopines​ @ineffablecolors​ @let-it-raines​ @spartanguard​ @therooksshiningknight​ @teamhook​ @revanmeetra87​ @winterbaby89​ @anmylica​ @cosette141​ @donteattheappleshook​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @elizabeethan​ @sotangledupinit​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @zaharadessert​ @xarandomdreamx​ @gingerchangeling​ @gingerpolyglot​ @xsajx​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @drowned-dreamer​ @thislassishooked​ @tiganasummertree​ @optomisticgirl​ @shireness-says​ 

[kairoot]

— 𝙠𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙩’𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙥 . % *

𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 *:･ﾟ✧

— write for males, females, & gn!

𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝘀 ₊˚★

𝐤-𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 — 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 — 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠-𝐜𝐡𝐢 — 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐮

𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 ₊˚★

↳ smaus & series

— not your fault (pjs) — cupid (lhs) — caught up (cs & jwy) — aurora’s paradox (khj) — emails i can’t send (sjy)

↳ seasonal

winter wonderland (winter drabble & fics)

^ is all i have atm .. but more coming soon !

about me !

[cosette141]

3, 4, 7, and 17 for the cs christmas ask game!

Aww!! I didn’t know it was an ask game too!! How fun! Thanks for thinking of me!! 🥰🥰😘❤️

3. Favorite Captain Swan scene?

Wow, starting with the most impossible question 😂 Oh wait! I know this one. Hahaha. It’s hands down the scene in the CS movie where they’re watching Snow “die” and without thinking Killian pulls Emma into a hug and she lets him and it’s just so cute and shows so much how he’s there for her and it’s one of the first times she instinctually shows that she needs him and feels safe with him. 🥰🥰🥰

4. Non-Captain Swan ships you ship?

Ummm… Snowing! I also find it precious they fell in love in real life playing those characters.

Ooh the Captain Charming bromance for sure. 😉

And also idk the ship name but Mulan and Aurora! I think it’s an absolute crime that they didn’t end up together! They set it up so perfectly and then just didn’t do it😭

I don’t really like Regina as a person but I do like her with Robin! Another thing I think was a crime, killing him and not letting them be happy together. (Mostly a crime to poor Roland too.)

Lastly, Killian and The Floor. 😆

7. Favorite holiday tradition?

Every Christmas my cousins and I play an intense game of Mario Kart. It’s become tradition for us and I hope we do it even into our 90s lmao.

17. What does Christmas mean to you?

Ahh jeez all these hard questions!! 😆💕 *ponders* I guess these days, being an ‘adult’ or whatever 😆 everything is so go go go and stressful and about money and success and yada yada, but Christmas is probably the only day of the year I don’t feel the pressure to do more or be more. It’s like, the one day of the year I feel like I get a day off. That ends up feeling like the best gift I get each year. Obviously it shouldn’t be like that, but I guess until I truly learn that life shouldn’t be as stressful as we all try to make it, Christmas is there to offer me a day off whether or not I believe I deserve it. I guess… it’s like a reminder that we don’t have to be that way as a society. Life doesn’t end if we just take a day to be with family and friends and try to make each other happy. 🙂

Thanks so much for the ask!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

[cheollipop]

For the ask game👀

ffitch, jemisin, walker

And yoon (bc I'm looking for some recs to read rn ahahahahaha)

yayy thank you for asking!! ^^

a little cut~

ffitch ⇢ do you choose titles before or after writing?

it depends! sometimes the title pops into my head while I'm still ideating, other times I decide on it after I'm done. for example, "breakfast in bed" came to me while I was talking to a friend about the fic (and we squealed and giggled over it together ahahaa).

jemisin ⇢ what is your favorite AU to write?

mmm, I haven't really experimented with many just yet,, but the classic non-idol!au has my heart. imagining them as normal university students, office workers,, them writing essays for class, or coming home late after doing overtime for the third night in a row... I cannot. just. they- *sighs*

walker ⇢ quote one of your favorite lines you've written.

I just answered this actually but... this one just... it just...

"How lucky I am, he thought, to be loved twice as much as much as everyone else." - breakfast in bed

yoon ⇢ what are some of your favorite stories?

*cracks knuckles* let's get to recommending~~ (I had to stop myself from making this list too long hahdha)

arrow in the dark (psh)

we ransacked the city (psh & khj)

better than me (cs & colleagues -- broke my brain)

by your side (cs - the only sfw fic here rip)

get a little closer (cs, psh & khj -- broke my brain pt.2)

into the aurora (ot8 -- you might have already read this, but if you didn't,,, READ IT)

in the quiet spaces (cs -- the whole winter series is just so... *cries*)

I hope I didn't ramble too much ahhaa, thank you for sending these questions throughh <33 have a lovely day/night! ^^

[scripted-downfall]

Have you received any asks about OUAT recently? I was going to ask you about your favorite characters and ships, but I don't think that I ever sent anything in.

I have not received any prior to this, but I'm happy to have gotten yours now! I warn you now that I'm writing this purely off the top of my head, without having rewatched in a good half-year at minimum, but I shall do my best!

Favorite characters: All the conventional villains, for sure. It helps that I'm a big fan of character development (both in terms of their evolutions on-show, and in terms of looking at how they became they villains --- or "villains", depending on the case --- that they ended up being), and just analysis in general. I loved Regina and Rumple ever since their introductions in s1, and Hook ever since his in s2. How much I like their characters varies by season, of course, but they're all really enjoyable to watch, more or less throughout. (e.g. Rumple was a character I adored in the first three seasons, and then he became one I love to hate... if that makes sense?) Zelena was another awesome villain, and so was Peter Pan. All of the performers did a really good job, the writing was usually pretty ubiquitously good/interesting, and, frankly, they tend to be less hypocritical. Also, Jefferson and Will Scarlet were two characters I always remember really fondly but thought we didn't see enough of; I've never been able to watch the Wonderland version of OUAT, though, and I think they both get developed in there? I'll have to find a way to watch that one of these days.

Potential hot take: most of the outright "heroes", I don't tend to like. I like Emma --- but she's not really a conventional "hero", so that isn't really a surprise --- and I probably like all of them at some point or another (except the Blue Fairy. not her. ever.) but it's a rare "hero" who ranks in my favorites book. I did really like Robin Hood, and I can't quite tell if he's a "hero" or not... I mean, my instinct is to say yes, but he did have the whole chaotic good outlaw, steal-from-the-rich-give-to-the-poor thing going. (Luckily, since OUAT basically thrived on changing perceptions on the definition of hero vs villain, maybe it doesn't much matter. I honestly can't keep track of who's what at any given time since it's so blurred.) I also felt like his character suffered a bit as his part of the show went on, and he kinda got diluted to just being a love interest... but I haven't watched in a while, like I said, so maybe that's just a mis-recollection.

As for ships... I definitely appreciate Captain Swan (Emma and Hook), and I very much don't like Swanfire (Emma and Bae). (Note: my issues with SF come, not from an issue with it interfering in CS --- I, personally, am a fan of multishipping, and recognizing that someone can have a good relationship with multiple people at varying points in their lives --- but from an issue with SF itself, and with Baelfire in general.) I wish that Milah had been more developed, but what little we saw of Millian (Milah and Killian) seemed decent; she definitely seemed way happier as a pirate queen than in her unhealthy life with Rumple. I always felt like Mulan should have at least had a chance to talk to Aurora and see if they could work things out (especially because I never liked OUAT!Phillip, ngl). I have vague memories of being on board with Outlaw Queen (Regina and Robin), but, as I said, I did feel like Robin eventually got solely relegated to being the Love Interest, and I don't think that did his character justice.

A brief bonus section: Rumbelle (Rumple and Belle) might have started out okay, but it quickly devolved into being unhealthy, so I can't in good conscience list it as a pure favorite... I think it was decent at first --- again, it's been a bit since I watched s1/s2 --- so that's why it gets mentioned, but the tail end of s3 and on through s4? That's when he goes back to lying and manipulating, and the ship crashes (imo).

I hope that answers your question decently, and, if you have a specific character/ship you wanted me to address more in detail, I'm happy to answer something else! Thanks for the ask!