#cs prompt challenge

[bluejones]

after hours

pairing: steven grant x reader word count: 800 a/n: cs prompt challenge, week 1: “you owe me a kiss” ~ steven gives you a call... | read on AO3 here~

Finally leaning back against the pillows you had been dreaming about all day, you let out a sigh, rearranging the covers and getting as comfortable as you could in bed. You were exhausted but pleased, you'd had a really good day. A great evening...

You wanted to dwell on the night you'd just had, but your phone buzzed on the bedside table. It wasn't that it was particularly late, but you still wondered who would be calling you right now, and more importantly, what would they want?

Your frown was replaced by a grin when you saw the name on the screen, although you still eyed it somewhat suspiciously.

Steven.

"Hello?"

"Hi. Hello. It's me, Steven."

You made an amused sound through your nose, "I know."

"I hope it's not a bother... that I called.. so soon after.."

"It's not. I'm just in bed."

"Oh." A pause. "Well, I wanted to let you know I got home alright. The train ride.. was a while.. no reception for a bit.. didn't want you to think.." He trailed off, seemed uncertain, maybe second guessing calling you at all.

Your own "Oh." was just as surprised as his when he learnt you were in bed, but you didn't let him dwell on it. "Great, no that's great. I guess I’m a little surprised is all, most people just text..."

"Ah, right... I guess, I just didn't want to leave you hanging.. if you were, at all.. hanging.."

That made you laugh into the phone. "I appreciate it. I'm glad you got home okay. I was just thinking about our evening while hopping into bed and getting comfy. How nice it was, how nice you are."

It was either tiredness or leftover giddiness from the night that set you on a path of messing around with him a little. After knowing him a while now, you knew little compliments made him just a tad shy.

There was a pause. "Oh, yeah?"

You answered with an affirming hm.

"I thought it was nice too. I think I'm gonna get into bed.. as well."

You couldn't help but sit up a little straighter in bed.

"Right now?" You asked, your voice was quieter.

His response turned just as quiet. "Yeah."

"Steven?" You heard some rustling on his end of the line.

"Hm?"

"Steven, did you call me so we could have phone sex right now?"

"WHAT?!" Something sounded like it crashed and you realised he may have actually dropped his phone. His voice was slightly muffled as he tried to get a grip on the phone again, or regain some composure. "No, oh my gosh of course not, no..."

An abrupt laugh came out before you could stop it and then you couldn’t contain the fit of laughter. "I'm just teasing, don't worry. I mean it would be okay if you did but..."

He promptly cut you off, and you sighed as you heard a little chuckle coming from him. "That was not my intention at all. Gosh I mean I've never… I’d never assume." That started your giggles again.

"But umm..." he started, but trailed off a little.

"What is it?"

"Well I, that is, it was really lovely being with you tonight and I think maybe, I regret... not kissing you." The last of his sentence came out quickly with the last of his breath, and it shocked you out of any other plans to continue teasing him, knowing he was being completely genuine.

You forced out a reply. "Really?"

"Yeah. I would have liked that."

You let out a small breathy laugh, if not to just fill your stunned silence. "I would have really liked that too, Steven."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely. You should have."

"Well I'll... the next time I see you.."

"Yes, I suppose that means you owe me a kiss then." You managed to get out with all of your confidence back, even if it was fake - even if your cheeks were burning.

"I suppose it does." You could hear the smile in his voice, and you couldn’t help but smile in return.

There was a brief silence. a comfortable silence as you both, you hoped, were thinking about it - the potential kiss you could share. You had definitely been thinking of kissing him, had been thinking about it basically every day for weeks now.

"Let me meet up with you tomorrow?" You finally said. Now that it was out in the open, you really didn't want to waste any more time.

"I finish work at 6..."

"Perfect! I'll text you tomorrow, tell you where to meet me... and you can give me that kiss."

"Okay. Okay, great!" He sounded on top of the world and you wanted to silently scream in delight.

"I'm going to try sleep now. Cya tomorrow Steven."

"L-later."

[moon-kn1ght]

Happenstance.

for the cs prompt challenge week 2: “i miss you. i miss you so much it hurts.” // pairing Rydal Keener x Reader // sequel/response/conclusion to Unclaimed Promise.

You’d say that it was rather unexpected the way Rydal returned to your life. (And rather unexpected is an understatement, but there’s no better way to phrase it).

Months melted into years and you accepted that Rydal was just a memory to you now. If you thought back hard enough, you could remember the spice of his aftershave and the heat of his palm pressed into yours, even as you left the small town where you two had shared barefoot strolls and stolen kisses.

You returned home to America and lost yourself in your work. You built a new home halfway across the world. You filled your days with challenging tasks and friendly people and your nights with sweet drinks and even sweeter lovers.

You burned the daylight hours of the weekend in messy stacks of bookstores and half-curated art galleries. There was a small part of you that still hoped that somehow, you might run into Rydal. Happenstance. All this way away but still he’d find you.

(We all have dreamers in ourselves, and sometimes those dreamers win).

Behind the yellowed and fragrant pages of Foucalt or Fanon, you eyes ghost over phrases and ideas but your mind wanders. Eventually your eyes do too. You scan the sparse population nestled in between stacks.

Gray hair, wrinkled skin, piercing perfume.

But your eyes come to rest on one body — there’s the dark hair that shines brightly when the sun hits it from the cloudy windows. The shoulders are more sunken than you remember. This man’s head hangs low.

“It couldn’t be.”

It’s more likely to be a mirage than it is to be your Rydal, and wouldn’t that make quite the story over a glass of wine tonight? A mirage in a bookstore?

Still, you work your way closer and yes, you’re even more sure now.

“Rydal?”

The man turns around, befuddled. How does someone in this foreign city know his name? His face reads before he sees you.

He sees you and something shatters inside of him. Rydal breaks into a 1000 little pieces in your arms. You embrace him all the same.

It’s you who speaks first, “You said you were coming back to me.”

“I know, there were some things that got in my way.”

You hold each other, faces damp with relief.

You can’t let go, even after falling with each other into bed that night. Fingers and bodies tangled together in your sheets, he whispers, ““I missed you. I missed you so much it hurt.”

[darlingshittalk]

Possible W?

Pru put in the update journal that the limit for the prompt point myo might be removed or made higher

Well that’s a good sign, hopefully that’s implemented because the limit was a stupid idea to begin with.

[captainswanwipwednesdays]

CS WIP Wednesday Challenge (an evergreen list)

A new WIP writing challenge every week! Dust off your keyboards and bust out your red pens, because we're summoning the muse whether she likes it or not 🧚‍♀️

Feel free to jump in and out as you please - just make sure to tag us so that we can reblog all your updates!

If the week's prompt doesn't work for you, write anything you want! Write what calls to you! Just write something! The same fic can also be used for more than one prompt!

Week 1

👻 The WIP haunting you most (you know which one it is - it's the first one that came to mind when you saw this challenge)

Week 2

👵 Your oldest posted WIP (can you even remember what year it was when that one first went up?)

Week 3

🥰 Your favorite WIP (which one do you actually WANT to be writing right now, regardless of what anyone else thinks of it)

Week 4

🕛 The WIP that has gone the longest without an update (have pity on us readers please)

Week 5

💡 The WIP that has all the notes/outline already done but you haven't managed to start (that's half the work done already!)

Week 6

🎂 The WIP you most recently updated (more cake!)

Week 7

🤏 Your shortest WIP (as in the one that will be the shortest, so short that you can totally write it... right? right.)

Week 8

🤷‍♀️ Any WIP - 500 words (shake that muse until words fall out - any words at all!)

Week 9

📜 Your longest WIP (look how many words you've already written! What's a few more?)

Week 10

🫶 Your WIP with the least amount of notes (let's give it the attention it deserves!)

Week 11

☝️ A oneshot WIP (come on, you can do it! It'll totally stay a oneshot....)

Week 12

🔥 That smutty WIP/scene you've been avoiding (suck it up and write the smut - or fade it to black - just don't let a little smut stand in your way!)

Week 13

☹️ The WIP you started and abandoned/decided not to post (don't let that WIP be an orphan!)

Week 14

🙌 Your posted WIP with the most comments/kudos/notes (give the people what they want!)

Week 15

✍️ That one scene/bit of dialogue in a WIP you don't want to/haven't been able to write (make them do the thing or say the thing even if they do or say it badly!)

Week 16

🃏 Dealer's choice (whatever your heart desires, writers, that's all we want you to have)

Week 17

😈 A new WIP (You've already got so many on the go... what's one more?)

Week 18

😭 That WIP that's going to be so long and involved you don't even want to think about it (Time to bite the bullet and write that first/next sentence)

Week 19

🪈 The WIP you talked about but never started (we're waiting - time to pay the piper...)

Week 20

👀 Let someone else pick which WIP they'd love you to update (it's not peer pressure if it's your friends right?)

🖋🖋🖋🖋🖋🖋🖋🖋🖋🖋🖋🖋🖋🖋🖋🖋🖋🖋🖋🖋

Feel free to send me any suggestions you might have and we can add them to the list - There will be a weekly post as well for each topic as a reminder.

Happy Writing!

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: The Law of Surprise (1/3)

Summary: The Law of Surprise: a custom as old as humanity itself. The Law dictates that a man saved by another is expected to offer to his savior a boon whose nature is unknown to one or both parties. In most cases, the boon takes the form of the saved man's firstborn child, conceived or born without the father's knowledge.

A/N: This is NOT a Witcher AU. Want to make that clear from the get go. The idea for this fic WAS inspired by the show, however. I’m not sure if the Law of Surprise was a show/game creation or if it existed before. Regardless, this fic is my spin on the concept and will be posted in three parts.

Much love and thanks to the @cssns mods for keeping this event going year after year! A HUGE shout out to my artist @eastwesthomeisbest for the AMAZING pieces she made to accompany my fic. Go give her ALL the flails! Finally, all the hot chocolate, rum, and grilled cheese sandwiches for my amazing betas @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4. LOVE YOU LADIES TO BITS!

Rated T (for now) / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  

Part One

Smoke billowed from the hull, choking the air as steel clanged around them. Shouts and screams echoed across the deck that was coming apart beneath their feet.

“The King! We must save the King!” Liam bellowed over the melee, dispatching a man who, up until a few days ago, had been one of their brothers-at-arms. No sooner had the man’s body hit the boards than another rushed forward to take his place, challenging the traitorous sea captain whom they had expected to aid them in their mission, not take up arms against them.

“Brother!” Killian cried out, moving through the throng towards Liam with slashes of his cutlass clearing the way.

“The King!” Liam commanded once more. “Get to the King! That’s an order!”

Killian’s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword and he swallowed past the instinct to ignore such an order. Notes of black powder, brine, and blood filled his sinuses as he took in a fortifying breath and turned away from his captain in search of His Majesty King David. Through the soot laced plumes, the dying breaths of a ship that would soon find itself on the bottom of the sea, Killian could see King David fending off multiple assailants with sword skills that had become legend. Movement through the swirls of ash caught Killian’s attention and his stomach dropped. Lurking behind the King was an unseen assassin, and Killian had but a few seconds to launch himself between his would-be sovereign and certain death.

The force of their meeting blades jarred Killian, but he held firm. Applying a few less than savory tactics to give him the upper hand, he made quick work of the assassin then threw himself into the fray, defending the King as they fought side by side until the remaining adversaries lay dead.

“Y-You,” King David panted, his chest and shoulders heaving from his exertions as he tried to catch his breath. “You serve my… my father, King George.”

“Not any longer, Your Majesty,” Killian told him. “Once we learned of George’s treachery against Queen Snow, we could not stand idly by and accept such orders.”

“We?”

“My brother, Captain Liam Jones, and those of us who chose to follow good form rather than betray a treaty made in good faith.”

“Lieutenant!” one of their men shouted. “Captain says we must abandon ship at once!”

“Too right!” Killian called out, grasping the King by the arm. “Time to go, Your Majesty.”

The planks they’d used to board the crippled vessel were just coming into view when the ship lurched and began to list violently. Grabbing onto the rigging, Killian prompted King David to hoist himself up onto the gunwale.

“Here!” Killian shouted, forcing a length of rope into the King’s hands. “Take this and swing over. Our men will catch you!”

“What about you?”

“There’s no time! You must go, Your Majesty. Now!”

When the King attempted to voice his protest once more, Killian gave him a firm shove, forcing him to cling tightly to the rope as his feet lost purchase with the side of the ship. The sight of the King being hauled to safety was the last thing Killian saw before the deck beneath him gave way. Agony ripped through his wrist where the rigging was still wrapped around it. The weight of his body and the vicious twisting of the rope as it held to the cleats it was knotted upon effectively severed his hand, dropping it into the flood waters below with a sickening splash that preceded the rest of Killian’s body as he desperately tried, and failed, to grab onto the railing with his remaining hand.

Sea water filled his mouth, still open from his screams of pain, and forced its way down his throat. Panicked, he reached out, hoping against hope to make his way out of the collapsing hull, determined it would not become his tomb. Through the vanishing streaks of sunlight, Killian watched in horror as crimson began to surround him. His own blood, freely flowing from the shredded remains of his wrist, colored the frigid waters as his consciousness started to wane and black threatened to overtake red. Something brushed his side, and with the last vestiges of his strength and wits, Killian noted it was a barrel, still sealed and buoyant, making its way back towards the surface with the line and hook that had once secured it within the hold still attached. Scrambling, he secured the hook to the straps crisscrossing the front of his uniform and prayed the sea would not yet claim him, giving into the oblivion that was proving too much to overcome.

~/~

The room was still. Too still. And bright with sunlight. The serenade of cooing songbirds, the swishing of skirts, and the flutter of wings too big to belong to the nesting swallows were within earshot.

Killian groaned and willed his eyes to open, though he had to squint past the assault of the sunbeams streaking in from the windows. Just as he’d deduced while coming out of his stupor, he was no longer on a ship, but in a stone room with many windows and a number of cots filled with others who, like him, were suffering from a variety of injuries. Killian had almost gotten up the courage to inspect his own grave wound when a shifting presence seated at his bedside snapped his attention to the person keeping vigil.

“Y-Your Majesty?” Killian croaked, stunned by the fact Queen Snow would be the one in attendance at his sick bed. “What? How?”

“Shh,” Her Majesty soothed, waving one of the healers over. “You have been unconscious for some time.”

“Surely you have not been at my side this entire time.”

The Queen chuckled. “No. Your brother and I have been taking it in turns.”

“Why on earth would you--”

“You saved my husband’s life. Ensuring you survived your injury seemed like the least I could do.”

His injury. His hand. Killian clenched his eyes tightly and swallowed back the bile his anxiety was threatening to send up his throat. The Queen took his remaining hand and leaned in to softly murmur words of comfort into his ear.

“The fairies did all they could, but with your hand lost to the sea they could not…” She paused, her voice strained and filled with compassion as he finally opened his eyes and lifted his head so he could take in the bandage wrapped remnants of his left arm. “You had already succumbed to fever by the time the ship returned, and while their magic was able to tend to the wound, the trauma you sustained made it difficult for them to apply the full measure of their powers. Now that you are awake, you can begin to…” Again, her voice trailed off, most likely distressed by the tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. “Lieutenant, look at me,” she insisted, squeezing his hand a bit tighter until he complied. “You will survive this. Your brother tells me there is none as resourceful or as a stubborn as his little brother, so I know you will manage to adjust in time, and with the fairies aiding you in your convalescence--”

“Younger,” Killian choked out, a sob catching in the back of his throat. When the Queen’s brow pinched together, her head tilting in perplexity to his response, he clarified, “Liam knows I abhor being referred to as his little brother. I prefer younger.”

A smile twitched at the corner of her lips - lips as red as roses, or so it had been said in the tales chronicling her and the King’s storied love - and the corners of her eyes crinkled affectionately as she yielded, “Younger.”

“Your Majesty,” the young fairy she had waved over when he’d first awakened timidly interjected. “I should tend to Lieutenant Jones now. Would you also like me to send word to Captain Jones--”

“No, I shall inform him,” the Queen replied. With a sigh she stood from her seat and allowed the fairy nurse to take her place. “See that you comply with everything they request of you,” she commanded Killian, her gaze turning regal and unrelenting until he nodded his agreement. “Good,” she said with a warm smile, one that tilted further upwards into a teasing smirk as she vowed, “I promise to look back in after Captain Jones has had his chance to fuss over you.”

“Perhaps your fairies ought to put me out of my misery now,” Killian groaned, the prospect of Liam hovering by his bedside, relentlessly questioning the fairies’ work while issuing his own commands of healing and restoration upon his little brother making him wish for the sweet abyss of sleep once more.

~/~

It had been the rumors of poisoning that had first started the brothers Jones to question their allegiance to King George. Whispers of a treachery that would ensure Queen Snow’s line ended with her had begun to spread and with it, the suspicion of their King’s true character. Killian had suggested King George might not be the noble and just ruler they had first thought when signing on with His Majesty’s Navy after being freed from indenture when the ship they served sank in a storm, but Liam would not hear such slander. It was not until the rumor had been confirmed by Lancelot, a soldier turned traitor they had been tasked with capturing, that Liam finally accepted that which Killian had tried to convince him.

King George had poisoned Snow White. Cursed her during his toast at the wedding that was supposed to unite their two kingdoms - an added benefit to the true love she’d found with George’s son, Prince David. It was not love, either for his son or new daughter-in-law, that filled the King’s heart that day, though. George had wanted revenge, he wanted to punish them both for going against his wishes, for robbing him of a union with a more prosperous kingdom, so he had Snow’s goblet dosed with a potion that rendered her barren and unable to produce an heir, a fact he revealed to them after he’d returned to his own kingdom, thereby nullifying the treaty they’d made in good faith before the wedding.

Lancelot had not only provided them with the truth about their King, but confided in them his knowledge of a plot the sovereign had conspired against his own son. The newly crowned Misthavian King’s life was in danger. Before George had dispatched Liam’s crew to go after Lancelot, he’d commissioned another ship to lay in wait, sure that King David would sail to confront his father about what he had done. Their orders were to waylay King David’s vessel and see to it the ship went down… with no survivors.

Without a moment to spare, the brothers Jones had rallied their men, calling upon them to reject the traitorous King and instead take up arms in the service of the noble King David, and set a course towards the location an ambush would most likely take place. Luck had been on their side, arriving just as King David’s ship had begun taking on water.

During his many weeks of convalescence, Killian learned that upon returning to Misthaven, King David had accepted the allegiance and oaths of fealty from those who had defected. In addition to new loyalties was the boon of acquiring George’s most prized ship, the Jewel of the Realm, of which he had insisted Liam remain captain once the damage she’d sustained in battle had been seen to.

Both Liam and Queen Snow kept Killian apprised of the war that was now in full swing, and the lieutenant would be lying if he said he was not eager to join his brother in the fray once more. His injury (and his own stubbornness), however, was delaying such a desire from becoming reality. Though healed to the best of the fairies abilities, it was Killian’s determination to rehabilitate and acclimate to his new reality without any magical assistance that slowed his progress. All that changed, however, when he heard the news that repairs had been completed to the Jewel, and Captain Jones was being called forth for his first mission under their new sovereign.

“Are you sure?” Tink asked, again. “You’ve been doing so well without it.”

“I will not let my brother sail into dangers unknown without me to watch his back,” Killian growled. “You’re the one who kept insisting I was making things too difficult for myself, so just perform the bloody magic so I can present myself to Their Majesties at my brother’s side!”

Tink gave him one last assessing look, then sighed. Holding out her wand, she sent a cascade of magic over him, altering the dominance of his muscle memory from his left side to his right.

“There,” she said. “All you were able to do with your left hand before, you will now naturally experience with your right.”

Killian clenched and released his right hand, then wrapped it around the hilt of the sword sheathed at his hip. Drawing it, he cut the air around him with metallic swishes, marveling at the ease with which he instinctively maneuvered it with his previously weaker hand.

“We still need to determine the attachment you wish to have fashioned for your brace,” Tink reminded him, but Killian waved her off.

“Later.”

Returning the sword to its scabbard, Killian straightened his appearance. “Have they assembled?”

Tink peered over the gallery’s balcony wall that overlooked the throne room. “The King and Queen are just now being seated. They’ll be calling for your brother momentarily.”

“Then I’d better hurry,” Killian quipped, shooting Tink a quick wink. After a few steps, he stopped and turned back, grasping the fairy by her shoulders and pulling her in for a tight hug. “Thank you,” he murmured before pulling back and placing a quick peck on her cheek.

Tink rolled her eyes. “Go,” she said with half a laugh, and Killian did not have to be told twice.

“What do you think you’re doing out of the infirmary?” Liam questioned when Killian made it down to the hall outside the throne room just as the Royal Usher appeared to announce their entrance.

“You didn’t really think I’d let you go on this fool’s errand without me, did you?” Killian needled with a hint of cheek.

“It only becomes a fool’s errand when a fool joins it,” Liam shot back, stifling the smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

“Precisely,” Killian agreed, waggling his brows in Liam’s direction. “Your involvement alone has seen to it.”

A chuckle rumbled through Liam’s chest and he slapped his brother good-naturedly on the back. “We’ll see what His Majesty has to say about it. I suppose you’ve earned at least that.” Turning to the usher, Liam requested, “Please announce our arrival to Their Majesties.”

Nodding, the usher signaled the guards who pulled open the large wooden doors.

“Captain Liam Jones and Lieutenant Killian Jones of Their Majesties’ Royal Navy!”

Killian kept stride a step behind his captain, focusing on his breathing and the rampant beat of his heart the closer they got to the dais. Though he’d had the pleasure of becoming acquainted enough with Queen Snow to no longer be nervous in her presence, this was the first time since shoving the King off the gunwale of his ship that Killian had been in the imposing man’s presence. Following Liam’s lead, he bent low at the waist when presented and awaited acknowledgement from his sovereigns before straightening to attention.

“Lieutenant Jones, how wonderful to see you,” Queen Snow greeted with a warm smile. “Though, I confess, we had not expected you.”

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” Killian offered. “I hope you forgive my impudence, but once I learned of the commission placed upon the Jewel, I could not, in good faith, sit idly by whilst my captain and fellow sailors answered the call of duty.”

“And do you feel as though you are fit for duty, Lieutenant?” the King inquired, assessing him with a stern glance that flicked to the brace that covered his blunted wrist. “We’ve been kept apprised of your progress, and it was my understanding you had refused magical assistance.”

“It’s true, Your Majesty,” Killian replied. “I was resistant to it, but I have since relented.”

In his periphery, he saw Liam’s head jerk slightly towards him, his eyes darting to the side as he remained at attention in the presence of their commander and king.

“I see,” the King said, his expression growing pensive as he shared a look with his wife. “And you are adamant in your request to join your captain?”

“I am, Your Majesty.”

“And you, Captain? What have you to say about your Lieutenant’s request?”

“I leave such matters in Your Majesties’ hands,” Liam responded with the diplomacy he’d been taught, until a flicker of something passed over his features and he dared to add, “but there is no other I would rather have by my side whilst completing this mission than my lieutenant.”

Killian fought against the proud grin pulling at his lips and lifted his chin a bit higher as he awaited the King’s response.

King David cast his eyes towards his wife who gave a demure nod before he turned back and stood, surprising the assembled court.

“Then I suppose we have no objection,” he commented. “However, there is something that must be done first…” He held his hand towards a squire stationed next to the platform. The lad approached, a broad sword laying flat across his palms, and presented the weapon to the King who grasped the hilt as he motioned for Killian to step forward.

“Kneel,” King David commanded, and Killian, knowing he was the final deserter of King George’s service who had not undertaken a new oath of fealty, did as he was commanded. The weight of King David’s sword rested against Killian’s shoulder and his eyes never wavered from his sovereigns as he was asked, “Do you, Killian Jones, in good faith and without deceit, pledge your fealty to this kingdom and to the Sovereign Family who governs it? Will you, to the best of your ability, faithfully serve those who may call upon your duty as well as those who are in need of your charity? Do you vow to never cause harm to those to whom you have sworn your allegiance and that you will honor your accords so long as they are honored in kind?”

“I do,” Killian answered tightly, his throat constricted from the swell of emotion rising up within him.

King David lifted his sword and repositioned it to Killian’s other shoulder. “Then in addition to accepting your allegiance, and in accordance with the practices and traditions of this land, I not only recognize your selfless bravery in saving my life, but offer you a boon in addition to my gratitude.”

Killian’s brows pinched together and he felt the tips of ears go red. Other than the Queen’s remarks after he’d regained consciousness, nothing more had ever been mentioned regarding his actions that day in battle. He had simply been doing his duty; never would he have imagined a public ceremony, much less a boon.

“It gives me great pleasure to bestow upon you…” the King continued, his Adam’s apple jumping as he swallowed hard, “The Law of Surprise.”

A flurry of murmurs erupted throughout the throne room. Killian’s lips parted in shock and his brother had to assist him back to standing.

The Law of Surprise. A windfall whose nature is unknown to the parties involved. Whatever treasure or lands or blessing the King had yet to become aware of, but destiny had already designed for him, would actually be Killian’s to claim, the value of which could be innumerable.

Vaguely, Killian was aware of the order that the hall be cleared as the King offered the lieutenant his hand. Accepting the gesture, he managed to croak out a quiet ‘thank you’.

“No. Thank you,” Queen Snow replied warmly, having joined the men from the dais. “Both of you. This Kingdom is forever in your debt.”

“And I am in yours,” King David declared, releasing Killian hands. “Until the Law of Surprise is fulfilled. So…” Reaching into his robes, the King produced a scroll, sealed with the Sovereign stamp. Handing it over to Liam, he continued, “Take all precautions to keep yourselves safe during this mission the Queen and I am tasking you with. These orders are to be kept under seal until you are ready to depart from our shores. We cannot risk anyone finding out.”

“I understand, Your Majesty,” Laim replied, taking the scroll and giving a reverential bow of his head. “Come, little brother,” Liam prompted, slapping Killian on the back. “We have our orders and must ready the Jewel.”

Killian stumbled, his body slow to obey, still too overcome by what had transpired. Bowing to their Majesties, Killian was about to follow his brother out of the hall when the Queen surprised him once again by throwing her arms around him and giving him a tight hug. Words seemed to get caught in her throat for a moment, and Killian sensed there was something she wished to say, but then thought better of it.

When she finally pulled away, she took his hand in hers and imparted, “Take care of one another and return home as quickly as you can.”

“Aye,” Killian answered with one last nod of his head. “Until we meet again, Your Majesty.”

~/~

Awaiting them on the deck of the Jewel was a large trunk with a smaller satchel set atop. Liam gave the order to prepare to set sail, and the crew busied themselves with their tasks, ignoring the parcels as best they could.

Liam motioned Killian towards the captain’s cabin, and once they were below they began to inspect the King’s orders together. Having grabbed the satchel on his way down, Killian opened the latch as his captain broke the sovereign seal on the scrolls.

“Star charts?” Liam murmured, inspecting the first parchment closely. “I've never seen these constellations before.”

“And I’ve never seen markings like this,” Killian added, showing his brother the golden sextant that had been hidden away in the satchel. “To what strange land are we headed?”

Liam set aside the star chart and began to read the official missive. “We're going to a new land, brother,” he said excitedly. “One that requires… a pegasus sail in order to reach it!”

“A Pegasus sail?” Killian replied, incredulously. “Is that what the trunk aboard deck contains?”

“Aye!” Liam answered, his eyes continuing to scan their orders. “A sail woven from the feathers of one of the last remaining pegasus.”

“Legend has it that horse could fly.”

“Indeed.” Liam looked up from the scroll, his eyes as big as saucers. “So can we. Our orders are to fly to this new land and stop King George’s men from obtaining a weapon.”

“What sort of weapon?” Killian snatched the parchent from Liam’s hand and began reading the orders for himself, even as his captain continued to relay them.

“A plant.”

“A plant?” Killian parroted, snidely. “His Majesty wishes us to cross realms for a plant?”

“All King David knows is that George also has a pegasus sail, and plans to use it to send men to obtain that plant, which, according to the fairies, can be used as a weapon capable of terrible destruction.”

“So, what? Does he wish for us to capture the plant for ourselves?” Killian did not much like that plan. He would gladly fight his enemies, but his code demanded he fight fair. The only weapon he knew of that came from plants was poison, and the idea of using such a tactic was underhanded and loathsome. Was it not George’s use of poison against Queen Snow that had caused them to defect from the kingdom of their birth in the first place?

“No,” Liam assured him. “We are to stop George’s men from retrieving it, burn their sail, and once we’ve returned, burn ours as well, so no one can ever venture there again.”

Killian relaxed his posture, relief flooding him, along with a measure of guilt that he’d ever doubted King David and Queen Snow's intentions.

Doubts that were further laid to rest when one of the men called down from the hatch, “Lieutenant! A parcel has arrived for you. From Her Majesty the Queen!”

Both men made their way back up, and Killian took the parcel from the sailor’s hand. It was heavy and odd-shaped, with a letter attached. Handing off the parcel to Liam, so he could open the note, Killian shook out the page and read:

Dear Lieutenant,

Tinkerbelle informed me you had yet to choose an attachment for your brace. I hope you will forgive my presumption, but I thought this might be a suitable option.

The wrapping crinkled as Liam opened the parcel, exposing a shiny, silver hook, the base of which had been refashioned to fit the mechanism within his brace.

It is the very hook you used to strap yourself to that barrel, which ultimately saved your life that day. It is my hope that this hook will bring you the same favor each and every day you wear it, as it did the day you brought favor back into my own life when you first employed it.

Yours,

Queen Snow

The entire ship had gone silent, with only the snapping of the sails and splash of waves against the hull daring to compete with the Queen’s words. Sun gleamed off the surface of the hook, still held in Liam’s hand, and Killian swallowed tightly as he took it in his own. Holding it up, he considered how this seemingly inconsequential piece of equipment had changed the course of his life, and with the Law of Surprise still owed to him by the King, the greatest of those changes were as yet unknown to him. Queen Snow was right. He could think of no other attachment that would be more fitting for whatever the fates might have in store for him.

Positioning the hook into the end of the brace, he gave it a firm turn until it clicked into place, restoring a piece of himself he never thought he’d get back. Clearing his throat, Killian shifted his posture, bringing himself to full height, faced his brother, and asked, “What are your orders, Captain?”

Liam’s eyes filled with pride, but he maintained his composure in the face of their crew. “Deploy the Pegasus sail and begin charting our course, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, aye,” Killian acknowledged before addressing the crew. “Get ready to set sail, mates! Make speed!”

~/~

Killian’s boots sank into the damp sand as he followed Liam up a small hill, heading away from shore. Behind him, the rest of the scouting party fanned out, their eyes cutting through the vegetation ahead for any sign of inhabitants. Dense jungle crept towards them with towering trees and lush ferns obscuring any view they might have into the island's heart. Once they made it to the top of the berm, Liam turned to instruct his men and Killian followed suit. No sooner had Liam opened his mouth than a voice spoke up from right behind them.

“Are you two lost?”

Whirling back around with his sword drawn, Killian was astounded to find an adolescent youth staring at them curiously. Where the devil did he come from?

“You look lost to me,” the boy said with a smirk as he lazily perused the men before him, seemingly undeterred by the many swords pointed his way.

“Identify yourself, boy,” Liam commanded.

“I'm Peter Pan,” the boy stated. With a sweeping hand, he gestured towards the island and added, “I live here. Who are you?

Liam studied the boy for a moment more before sheathing his sword and signaling the rest of the men to do the same. “Captain Jones,” he replied before gesturing towards Killian. “And this is my lieutenant. We're here by order of the king.”

Killian secured his own sword, unnerved by the way the boy’s eyes lingered upon him, especially his hook, before responding to Liam’s statement.

“The king, huh? We don't have any kings in Neverland,” he informed them, then smugly added, “just me.”

“That's funny,” Liam deadpanned whilst pulling a folded piece of parchment from his vest pocket. Shaking it open, he held it up in front of the boy. “We seek this plant.” He gave the boy a moment to look at the drawing. “Now tell us, boy, where can we find it?”

Ignoring Liam’s demand, the boy plucked the parchment from Liam’s hand and inquired, “Your king sent you for this plant?”

“You know it?”

“Dreamshade?” the boy replied, his brows high upon his forehead with a glimmer Killian did not much care for sparking in his eyes. “It's the deadliest plant on the island. Your king is really ruthless.”

“It’s not like that,” Killian countered. “King David sent us here in order to prevent that plant from falling into the ruthless hands of King George. We’re here to safeguard it, not exploit it.”

The boy flicked his eyes up from beneath his brows, and the sinister smile pulling at the corners of his mouth made Killian’s blood run cold.

“Funny,” the boy drawled. “They said the same thing.”

A battle cry rang out from the treeline, followed by the sounds of foliage being snapped and trampled by a dozen or more men rushing from the brush. King George’s men descended without warning, having clearly arrived at the island before them with enough time to set up an ambush. Killian drew his cutlass and threw himself into the fray, clashing swords with an enemy whose blade was smeared with a black, sticky substance he did not recognize.

Though outnumbered, King David’s men were able to make short work of George’s. Killian surmised they must have made land on the opposite side of the island and were therefore already fatigued from their trek through the jungle, giving King David’s men the upper hand. When Killian managed to disarm the opposing captain, his hook pressed against the man’s throat as he gave the order of surrender, George’s remaining men all threw down their weapons and sank to their knees.

“Tie them up,” Killian ordered as he scanned the beach for the treacherous boy who had clearly aided in the ambush. He did not find the little miscreant, but did see his brother wincing at the water line, his hand clamped over his arm as blood oozed from beneath his fingers.

“Liam!” Killian cried, rushing to his brother’s side. “You are wounded!”

“It’s nothing,” Liam said, attempting to wave him off. “Merely a flesh wound.”

Unable to keep his balance, Liam practically fell into Killian, who wasted no time in tucking himself under his captain's arm.

“Starkey!” Killian called out, gaining their bosun’s attention. “See that the prisoners are transported back to the ship in the other dinghy. I’m taking the captain back to tend to his wound.”

“Aye, aye!” Starkey replied, ordering two of their men to accompany the captain and lieutenant back to the Jewel.

By the time Killian managed to get his brother back on board and safely within the captain’s quarters, Liam’s complexion had become sickly pale and his skin clammy. When Killian insisted on seeing the wound, Liam muttered something about Killian fussing like an old woman.

“Let me see!” Killian barked in command, taking his brother aback enough that he complied.

Rolling up his sleeve revealed a nasty gash on his forearm, but more alarming than the blood were the black streaks running along his veins beneath his skin.

“What the devil?” Killian muttered, examining the pattern branching up Liam’s arm.

“I think it was… whatever they had… coated on their… blades,” Liam said, his breathing clearly labored. “Some sort of… poison, perhaps?”

Poison.

“Dreamshade,” Killian exhaled on a panicked breath before launching himself towards the cabinets at the far end of Liam’s cabin. “There must be a cure,” he said, rifling through the bottles of potions and elixirs the fairies had supplied them with. “An antidote or magical healing potion that can--”

“Oh, you won’t find a cure in there,” a voice quipped from behind him.

Spinning around, Killian found himself face to face with the demon boy they’d met on shore. Pan.

“He'll die as soon as the poison reaches his heart.”

His callous tone had Killian seeing red. Grabbing the boy by his tunic, Killian slammed him against the steps that led up to the helm, hook at his throat as he demanded, “Tell me how to save him!”

Pan appeared more amused, excited even, than terrified, and merely hummed before confessing, “There is a way to stop him from dying.”

“Tell me,” Killian snarled, releasing Pan and taking a step back so the boy could procure something from his belt.

“Pixie dust,” Pan stated, holding up a pouch that somehow shimmered despite its dark leather exterior. “Powerful stuff, and easily capable of curing any ill. Even dreamshade.”

Killian reached out to take the pouch, but Pan toyingly pulled it away. “I must warn you,” he said in a tone of mock seriousness. “All magic comes with a price, and this dust is no exception. Don't use it unless you're willing to pay.”

“Whatever the cost. Whatever you want. It's yours,” Killian agreed.

Pan held his gaze for a second more then handed the pouch over. Killian wasted no time. After righting his brother, who was nearly slumped off his chair and unconscious, he pulled the pouch open with his teeth then poured the contents on the festering wound that was nearly black as pitch. The glittering substance shone brightly as it reacted with the poison, forcing Killian to shield his eyes.

“Brother!” Killian shouted, shaking Liam’s shoulders and willing him to wake up. “Brother!”

Jolting awake, Liam sucked in a deep breath and swallowed thickly, his eyes casting about as he got his bearings. “That's captain to you,” he croaked out cheekily when his eyes landed on Killian, attempting to assuage his brother’s concerns. Getting to his feet, he let Killian help stabilize him as he asked, “What happened?”

Relieved to see the ruddy vitality return to his brother’s cheeks and no remnant of the vile dreamshade clogging his veins, Killian chortled, “It doesn't matter. Let's pay the boy and be on our way.”

“What boy?” Liam inquired, prompting Killian to turn circles within the cabin.

“Boy!” he called out, unnerved by the way the brat seemed to appear and disappear into thin air. “What do you want?” he called out again, when suddenly, from overhead, shouts began to bellow on deck.

“Is that…”

The acrid scent hit Killian at the same time as his brother and their heads snapped towards each other as they exclaimed, “Fire!”

Scrambling up the hatch steps, they were met with chaos as the crew floundered helplessly under the flying embers of the pegasus sail, its golden plumage being consumed by flames.

“What is the meaning of this!” Liam shouted. “Who is responsible for--”

“I decided what I wanted,” a now familiar voice stated from behind. “I want this ship and a crew to serve it… and me. That’s my price.”

Dread laced with fury washed over Killian. Stepping forward he towered over the demon boy and through clenched teeth declared, “No. I never agreed to--”

“Whatever the cost. Whatever you want. It's yours,” Pan parroted his own words back to him, a self-satisfied smirk twitching at his lips that made Killian’s blood boil.

“I cannot pay you with something that is not mine to give.” Sweeping his arm out towards the men, he said, “These men’s lives are not mine to barter, and are therefore exempt from having to pay the debt I alone owe.” Casting a glance towards his brother, Killian swallowed hard before turning back to the boy. “It was my brother’s life you spared, so it is my life… my service alone that--”

“No!” Liam shouted. “Killian, don’t be a fool. None of us shall pay such a price.” It was now Liam who loomed over the boy, who appeared as bored as ever. Drawing himself up to full height, Liam commanded, “You may have taken our sail, but that does not leave us without means to leave this place.” Calling out over his shoulder, Liam bellowed, “Lieutenant! Take a contingent of men and retrieve George’s sail. Starkey! Take this miscreant to the brig.”

Killian wanted to argue, unable to shake the feeling of dread the boy’s presence wrought over him, but before he could voice his concerns Pan issued his own warning.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Captain. Your brother made a deal for the island’s magic, and all magic comes with a price. You would be wise to honor the cost.”

“Your cost is too high,” Liam sneered. “I won’t see any of my men forced into your servitude, especially my brother, simply for my sake.”

“Very well, then,” Pan quipped with a shrug. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Liam scoffed and turned his back on the boy. Setting his sights on Killian, who still had not made a move to carry out his earlier order, Liam opened his mouth to issue it again when his face purpled and a choking sound emitted from the back of his throat. Killian watched in horror as his brother collapsed, the sprawling blackness of the dreamshade once again snaking its way up the veins of his neck.

“Liam!” Killian rushed to his brother's side and gathered him in his arms. “No! No, no, no, please!”

“I did warn him,” Pan drawled in a taunting tone. “He should have paid up when he had the chance.”

“Let me pay,” Killian begged. “The deal was struck between us. You and me. I’ll stay in exchange for my brother’s life and our men’s freedom. Save him, return them all to our kingdom, and I’ll remain here. In your service. For as long as you wish.”

“And the ship?”

Killian hesitated. The Jewel wasn’t truly his to give, but surely their Majesties would value the lives of their subjects over a vessel they’d only acquired in battle.

“Aye. The ship as well.”

Crouching down in front of the brothers, Pan’s indifference to the gurgles and gasps of dying breath from the elder sprawled prone in the younger’s embrace only heightened Killian’s terror as the boy stated, “Ten years.”

“What?”

“I want to make sure the terms are clear this time,” Pan clarified. “Ten years of service from you and this ship, with no interference from your brother or your kingdom.” His cold eyes shifted down to Liam’s, which were wide and bloodshot with panic. “If you make any attempt to rescue your brother or take back this vessel, I’ll consider the deal forfeit… as well as your lives. Yours, your brothers, and anyone else who mettles. Deal?”

“Yes,” Killian agreed, desperately. “We have a deal.”

“Captain?” Pan inquired of Liam, who could only nod his consent, though reluctantly. “Excellent.”

With a wave of his hand Liam’s malady was lifted, but before Killian could assist his brother back on his feet, Pan flicked his wrist again and Liam, along with the rest of the crew, disappeared before his very eyes.

“What have you done with them?” Shooting to his feet, Killian grabbed the brat by his tunic and began shaking him violently. “Where have they gone? Tell me!”

“Relax,” Pan replied. “I’m keeping up my end of the bargain.” Turning his head, he nodded towards the far end of the coastline. “There. Your brother, fellow crewmen, and captives are there.”

Killian’s head snapped in the direction of Pan’s gaze, and he loosened his grip on the boy as a ship, King George’s ship, came into view as it rounded the coast. The main sail was not the golden color he’d expected, knowing George’s men had also used a pegasus sail to reach the island. Instead, a sail blacker than night whipped briefly until it caught the winds, billowing out towards the sea.

“What sort of dark magic…” Killian murmured beneath his breath, but the question was cut short when he witnessed the vessel begin to lift out of the waters. Scrambling to get a better view, Killian pulled his spyglass from where it was usually stowed at the helm and peered through the lens. Across the expanse he caught sight of his brother, peering back at him through his own glass. Killian’s heart constricted in his chest. He had not even the chance to say good-bye. Had not been given the opportunity to set his affairs in order. There was so much he'd wished to say, so much he’d wanted his brother to know and to impart upon others who had become important in his life.

Tinkerbelle, the other fairies, Queen Snow, King David. What would they think about the deal he’d struck? What would become of his brother and the other men when they returned without the fleet’s prized vessel? Would they be punished? Demoted? Would his actions become a millstone around their necks for the next ten years?

As the levitated vessel grew smaller and smaller, making its way through the skies, Killian could only pray that the fact that they’d been successful in thwarting George from obtaining dreamshade would be enough to satisfy the king. When at last he lost sight of the ship within the clouds, Killian lowered the spyglass and heaved a despondent sigh while choking back tears. Though he may not know the plight Pan’s service might bring him, nor the response of the king when Liam returned, one thing he did know was Misthaven’s war with King George was far from over, and he would not be there to protect his brother, fight for his sovereigns, or prove he was worthy of the boon the king had already gifted him. A boon that would go unclaimed and unfulfilled.

He supposed he ought to be grateful the Law of Surprise did not work in reverse. He would not wish this misfortune on anyone.

“There, there,” the voice he’d already come to hate patronized. Killian stiffened when the bastard approached, standing beside him and gazing out upon the Neverland waters. “Is it really so bad?”

Killian did not respond. His years of indenture taught him to hold his tongue, and though he was loath to be back in a position of servitude he would shoulder the burden and play the part of compliance, unwilling to give the demon any recourse that might alter their deal and prolong his sentence.

Wiping away the vestiges of the emotional farewell to his former life, Killian straightened his posture and faced his new master. “The ship and I are at your command. What are your orders?”

Pan smiled, a sickening expression that made Killian’s stomach churn, and circled his quarry. “I do have an errand for you, but I’m afraid it must wait until my shadow returns.”

Killian’s brows scrunched in confusion, but he said nothing.

“Until then…” Pan halted his steps and squared himself off with Killian, his hands clasped behind his back as he rolled onto his heels. “I think a makeover is in order. For you and the ship.”

“A makeover?”

“Indeed.” Snapping his fingers, Pan’s smile grew broader as Killian was knocked off kilter. Steading himself, he realized his entire wardrobe had changed. Gone were the crisp white linens and gold embroidered navy wool of his uniform. In their place was a pair of buttery soft black leather pants, a billowing, smoke-hued blouse beneath a silver garnished, corseted leather waistcoat, and an adornment of rings and pendants.

“What the devil?” Flicking his bewildered eyes to Pan, he balked when the boy extended a can of paint and brush towards him.

“Here,” he said. “I’ve seen to your makeover, you can see to the ship’s.”

“And what, exactly, am I to make over?” Killian asked through the tick in his jaw.

“Her name,” Pan declared, as though the answer were obvious. “You no longer sail the Jewel of the Realm,” he informed Killian. “From now until your service has ended, she’ll be known as… The Jolly Roger.”

Killian swallowed the bile creeping up his throat, his fist clenching at his side. “So you mean to make me a pirate.”

Pan’s gaze flicked down to the hook braced at the end of Killian’s left arm, then slowly scanned its way back up. “Oh, I think you and I both know there’s a part of you that’s always been a pirate. Now the exterior and occupation will match the man beneath.”

Anger sparked within him. How dare the little devil associate his hook, gifted to him by the Queen for what it represented to them both, with something as vile and villainous as piracy. “You know nothing about me,” Killian seethed.

“Perhaps not,” Pan shrugged. “But we’ve ten long years together. I imagine we’ll come to know one another quite well by the end of this… arrangement.” Setting the paint at Killian’s feet, Pan’s tone hardened. “Ready your ship, Captain. It’s a pirate’s life for you. For the next ten years at least.”

Killian balked at the boy’s sudden disappearance, then gave himself a moment to come to terms with all the demon had said. He was right. For better or worse, this is the deal he had struck. Picking up the can and brush, Killian made his way to the bow and with a heavy heart, rechristened the Jewel.

Later that evening, with the ship’s main sail infused by a spectre Pan referred to as his shadow, it was not the Jewel of the Realm that departed Neverland. No. The Jolly Roger set sail to complete her first mission. A mission to transport orphaned, abandoned, and truant boys from a lawless place called Pleasure Island back to Neverland. A mission carried out not by Lieutenant Killian Jones of Their Majesties’ Royal Navy of Misthaven, but by the blackguard who would come to be known as the scourge of the seas, a villain whose soul would be described as being as black and depraved as the sail he hoisted. The fearsome and reviled pirate, Captain Hook.

Part Two 

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.) @paradiselady19 @aprilqueen84 @kmomof4 @mie779 @donteattheappleshook @stahlop @anmylica @undercaffinatednightmare @zaharadessert @karl0ta @booksteaandtoomuchtv @courtorderedcake @superchocovian @pirateherokillian @ultraluckycatnd @jennjenn615 @the-darkdragonfly @jonesfandomfanatic @wyntereyez @xarandomdreamx @teamhook @winterbaby89 @justanother-unluckysoul @whimsicallyenchantedrose @badwolfreturns @deckerstarblanche @tiganasummertree @jrob64 @resident-of-storybrooke @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda @youherotype @kday426 @snowbellewells @alexa-fangirl-forever @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @unworried-corsair @justanotherflailgirl @sals86 @natascha-ronin @livykatelin00-blog @jackieorioncat @annep1 @ilovemesomekillianjones @soniccat @youplaylikeagirl @th3capta1n @cocohook38 @zippoluv @killian-whump​

[snowbellewells]

Very Belated Birthday Gift Fic: "Fighting Dragons with You (Time of my Life)"

This birthday gift for @searchingwardrobes is nearly a month late now, but I had promised it and really didn't want to scrap the thing. Even if it's just a bit of fluffy drabble, I still wanted to give Melanie something.

This little fic takes place sometime in the future of the happy beginning we might have seen post the s6 finale, if the show had stayed in Storybrooke. Part of the idea came from listening to Taylor Swift's "Long Live". I was driving along, and when the lyrics got to "I've had the time of my life, fighting dragons with you..." I could picture an older Emma and Killian still together and happy, looking back on all their adventures and happy they had weathered them together.

The other thing that prompted this was just that I picture you, Melanie, having such a solid, supportive marriage like I tried to envision for CS here. I haven't even met your husband (and sadly I have only met you in person once) but just from what I know, you two seem to have each other's backs so beautifully, and to be such caring and committed partners, like one would hope to find in marriage. So this was meant to be a bit of a birthday tribute to that too. (If that makes any sense!)

Okay, at any rate, here is this little one shot - I hope you enjoy it!! Happy very belated birthday @searchingwardrobes

**Also available on AO3, if that is your preference**

Summary: Several years down the line, Emma and Killian are still living their happy beginning together - reveling in every challenge as long as they can face it together.

by: @snowbellewells

As they came in the door of the house with the white picket fence by the harbor, Killian and Emma Jones were out of breath, disheveled and nearly stumbling with fatigue. Emma could tell easily just how exhausted her husband was, in fact, by the way Killian let the door swing closed behind them without even looking to see it latch carefully as he usually did, and by the way he toed off his boots and left them lying haphazardly in the entry without neatly standing them side by side before plodding straight toward the living room couch. She was right behind him though in the beeline to a comfortable seat, kicking her own shoes off as well and tossing her jacket at the hall tree without even blinking when she missed by a mile.

Emma had to chuckle tiredly as they both let out groans of relief when they collapsed onto the cushions of their well-loved sofa and sank into the cozily plush support, heads falling almost simultaneously to rest on the back next to one another. She let her eyes fall closed for a minute, knowing Killian was doing the same beside her without even looking. Once their breathing slowed to normal, she carefully tried to stretch her twingeing knee and flex her stiff ankle, hating to admit to herself the discomfort that she wouldn’t have felt even five or six years ago. From the corner of her eye as it flicked back open, Emma could see Killian wincing while he gingerly worked his shoulder, and smirked in spite of herself. At least she wasn’t alone in her aches and pains reminding her that she wasn’t 28 anymore.

Even though she was more than a bit winded herself, Emma couldn’t resist resting her head on his arm along the back of the sofa and sifting her hand through Killian’s dark hair, now impressively shot through with silvery-gray strands that somehow made him even more attractive, before she teasingly asked, “Feeling your age there, Babe?”

Killian snorted indignantly, as she had expected, before retorting smartly, “I believe I am doing quite alright for my age, Love. As you well know…” Somehow, despite both of their weary bodies, a twinkle came into his eye that made her flush immediately remembering just how true his words were.

Nevertheless, she hummed low in her throat, cutting her eyes to study him playfully, “If you say so, old man.”

Shaking his head, Killian wrapped both arms around her, pulling her to him abruptly enough to startle a surprised exclamation from her as he rubbed his scruffy cheeks against her neck and collarbones until she squirmed. “Why don’t we discuss this again when an actual, living and fire-breathing dragon has tossed you about?” he chided in a low rumble at her ear.

Emma couldn’t hold onto her jesting scrutiny of him any longer; she was simply too glad that he was alright and all in one piece, though out of breath and his clothes a little singed. She was tingling with adrenaline at their victory and the excitement of fighting together once again, but she would never take for granted both of them coming through a battle unscathed - not after how many time in their lives she has nearly lost him. Her hands came up to cup his face, as she raised it for their foreheads to rest against each other, affection flooding her countenance and replacing the playful mockery. “You’re right, of course,” she whispered sincerely against his lips. “Thank you for being there with me.”

As he was all-too-often able, Killian seemed to grasp what she was thinking - both the elation, and the rush of adrenaline that came from having missed the challenge of facing a foe to save their town, their family and friends, and the spark of danger that had always stoked their simmering chemistry when they faced it head-on and side by side. Winking at her in the sassily knowing way he had perfected long ago, Killian quipped, “Admit it, Lass, you’ve missed the thrill of chasing baddies and fighting for our lives, haven’t you?” His tongue did an obscene sort of run along his lower lip as he awaited her answer, and Emma felt the heat flush across her skin in response, even though she fought to deny his observation.

She reached out to smack his chest good naturedly, already realizing he knew her too well to believe her denial anyway. Still, she tried with a laugh and shake of her head, “Hardly,” she snorted, but then added sheepishly, “Well… maybe a little.”

“Aha!” he crowed, tapping the curve of his hook lightly to the tip of her nose as if to accentuate the point. “I knew it!”

“Stop,” she grumbled, not at all pleased to be so obvious in something that really wasn’t a great opinion to admit.

Killian, sensing her hesitation, sobered quickly and gathered her closer to his chest. “Ah, Love, don’t you worry,” he murmured low against the sensitive soft skin of her shoulder, his words a whispered secret for her alone. “You ought to know I won’t tell another soul. Besides,” here he pulled away just enough to waggle his brows ridiculously at her, making her stomach heat and tingle just as it had the very first time he’d done it - when they were still on opposite sides in another realm and she hadn’t known what to do with the reaction her body already had to him, with or without her conscious permission. “Dashing rapscallion, remember? I’m having the time of my life being back in action. Wouldn’t trade it for anything, dragons and all.”

Emma huffed disbelievingly, amused despite her protests at his words, knowing that as crazy and reckless as it sounded, he meant them completely. And she agreed with him in every fiber of her being - from the Queen of Hearts, to a gigantic snow monster, the Lord of the Dead himself, Peter Pan, and Rumplestiltskin - his having her back had made all the difference. Not just facing fairy tale villains, but in facing down health scares, sheriff re-elections, Henry heading off for college, and the truth of growing older, all of it was made into an adventure because he was with her on the journey. 

Studying his face, the creases of crow’s feet accentuating his adoring smile, the curve of his irresistible lips, and the wide open blue of his eyes, Emma still had to pause a moment in wonder. How had a woman to whom no one had ever paid any attention, whom most had never even noticed - whom the one who had, hadn’t hesitated to leave behind - a lost little girl no one had ever wanted - found her way to a life and a union like this? Even after years together, she and Killian were more bonded than ever, even their differences and struggles made them more fiercely devoted as time somehow hurried on. She had found her way into the life she’d always wished for on those sad blue star candles each lonely birthday for years on end. Though she had fought him every step of the way, when she had finally let Killian in, he had more than kept his word; once he’d won her heart, she had ceased to be alone in the world.

“You know it’s true, Emma,” he pressed, the smile on his face clearly seeing and understanding her fond, amazed thoughts.

Smiling back, Emma could only reply hoarsely, “You know, you crazy pirate, as hard as it is for me, I believe you.”

Pressing his lips to her forehead, Killian chuckled - as pleased at her admission and all that they had built as she was. “Even in peace time, wherever we are, Swan, there is never a dull moment with you.”

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @kazoosandfannypacks @booksteaandtoomuchtv @anmylica @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @stahlop @bluewildcatfanatic @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @ineffablecolors @drowned-dreamer @wefoundloveunderthelight

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 14: The Yuletide Challenge (1/3)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: T

Word Count: 1643

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Today’s story is an AU based on this prompt from @kmomof4​: Character A vows to do something nice for a stranger during the Christmas time. Character B is that stranger. It was written in 2017.

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

Emma took a deep breath, smoothed down her tight red dress, and stepped through the doors of The Rabbit Hole, the premiere bar in the tiny town of Storybrooke, Maine, and scanned the interior for some poor, sad soul who looked in need of Christmas cheer.  She rolled her eyes.  How the hell had she let Mary Margaret talk her into this?

It all started the week before, when Emma had gone to her adoptive brother David’s and her sister-in-law Mary Margaret’s loft apartment for Thanksgiving dinner.  Emma had never been a big holiday person.  Growing up in the system, being in and out of group homes, she’d never really had a family to spend the special days with, at least until David’s mom, Ruth had taken her in just before her fifteenth birthday.  By that point, Emma was used to being a loner, and she preferred it that way.  If you don’t let people in, they can’t hurt you, right?  Most Thanksgivings and Christmases, even now that she was an adult with a brother and sister-in-law she loved, were spent alone, take-out and Netflix her big holiday companions.

But after a bad break up with her longtime boyfriend, (what had she ever seen in Walsh, that idiotic flying monkey!) Emma had decided it was time for a change.  She’d packed up her swanky New York apartment and relocated to Storybrooke where there was a job as her brother, the sheriff’s, deputy was waiting for her.  And with Emma living in the same town during the holidays, Mary Margaret simply would not take no as an answer to her invitation to have Thanksgiving dinner with the family.

Emma had to admit dinner with the family had been nice.  There was something so damn heartwarming about sharing a holiday with the ones she loved.

It was only after the feast had been consumed, the dishes had been washed, and the post-meal nap had been taken that things took a rather unfortunate turn.

Mary Margaret got awkwardly to her feet (it was one of the drawbacks of being nearly 7 months pregnant, after all) and clinked her water glass to get everyone’s attention.

“So David and I have been thinking,” she’d said.  “We thought it would be a good idea to start a new family tradition during the holiday season.”

Emma was immediately on alert.  When her sister in law had that look in her eyes it always spelled trouble.  “Um…okay?  Just what kind of tradition are we talking about?”

“The Yuletide challenge!” Mary Margaret said excitedly.

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret asking this,” Emma said, “but what exactly is a Yuletide challenge?”

“I saw an article about it in the holiday edition of my favorite magazine, Storybrooke Today,” Mary Margaret said.  “Basically, the idea is to spread Christmas cheer to the people who need it most.”

Emma crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.  “Yeah, I don’t really do the whole ‘Christmas cheer’ thing.”

“Oh come on, Emma!” Mary Margaret insisted.  “Christmas is the season of giving!  At least listen to the whole idea before rejecting it.  I promise this challenge will make us all feel warm and fuzzy inside.”

The puppy dog eyes.  Her sister in law was giving her the puppy dog eyes.  She wasn’t playing fair.  Not at all.

“It actually sounds like a pretty interesting idea, Emma,” David said, backing up his wife after she tossed him a pointed look. 

Emma sighed.  “Fine.  What exactly are the rules of this whole Yuletide challenge thing?”

Mary Margaret’s smile could light up the sun.  “Each of us will find a person in town—someone we don’t know, or at least don’t know well—who seems down on their luck, or sad, or just in general in need of cheer.  We make it our mission to do little acts of kindness for that person throughout the season.  You’ve got to do at least one good thing for them per week, and once you’ve picked your person, there’s no going back!  That’s your person for the season.  Could be by Christmas time we’ll each have a brand new friend!”

Emma wasn’t a people person.  She didn’t do random acts of kindness for strangers.  She kept to herself and let them keep to themselves.  Life was just better that way.  Still…Mary Margaret was really excited about this idea.  What could it hurt to spread a little kindness during the busiest, most hectic time of year?

“Alright,” Emma said on another sigh.  “Count me in.  I’ll take the Yuletide challenge.”

And that’s how Emma found herself in a bar, dressed to impress, looking for someone who looked sad and down on his luck.  It was nearing the end of the first week of December, and she’d yet to find her victim…er giftee.  She had to find someone fast before she forfeited the challenge before even beginning.

Emma saw him right away, as though a magnet had drawn her eyes to him.  He was handsome (hot as hell, really), with his soft black hair, mesmerizing blue eyes, dusting of scruff, jeans and black leather jacket.  But it wasn’t his looks that immediately drew Emma to him.  It was the dejected, almost despairing look on his face as he nursed his glass of rum at his lonely table at the back of the establishment.  If anyone needed a little Christmas cheer, it was this guy.

Squaring her shoulders, Emma walked purposefully to his table.  He looked up at the sound of her stiletto heels moving across the floor, his eyes showing surprise and appreciation as he took in the sight of her.

“This seat taken?” she asked, reaching for the chair across from him.

He waved with his right hand.  “Be my guest, love.”

The smooth, British accent, combined with his far above average looks did things to her insides.  Emma turned away, taking the chair.  Get it together, Swan!  You’re not some teenager who gets crushes on hot strangers!

“So, my name’s Emma Swan,” she said.  “And who might you be?”

“Killian Jones,” he answered, “but people have taken to calling me by my more colorful moniker.  Hook.”

The man raised his left arm, and Emma noticed the nautical hook which sat in place of a hand.  Well that wasn’t weird or anything. “Um…why do you have a hook instead of a hand?”

Smooth Emma.  Really smooth. Nothing like starting out the Yuletide challenge with a major faux pas.

One dark eyebrow rose and a half smile draped his lips.  “I’ve always been fascinated with Captain Hook, so after I lost the hand, my Halloween costume was rather obvious.  The hook has proven so bloody useful, I simply chose to keep it.”

“Oh, well…sorry about your hand.”

A shadow passed over his face.  “Aye, well, it’s been five years, almost to the day since the accident.”  He closed his eyes for a moment, then drained his glass in one gulp, hastily pouring himself another.

If Emma didn’t miss her guess, and she rarely did, an ability to read people was one of the things that made her one of the best bail bonds persons New York had ever seen, there was more to the story, than simply the loss of a hand.  The poor guy was in misery even alluding to the event.

Nice job, Emma.  Instead of spreading Christmas cheer, you’ve managed to make this guy relive his worst memory.

“Killian….I’m sorry…”

He waved her off.  “It’s no matter, Swan.  Seems it’s a night for melancholy musings, but I survived.  Now, I’d rather discuss something pleasanter if you don’t mind.  What exactly brought such a beautiful woman to my table on this cold winter’s night?”

Emma took a deep breath.  Here goes nothing.  “So I was wondering if you’d help me with something.”

His eyebrow rose in question.

“Let me buy your next round,” she said, “and then, well, maybe I could do some nice things for you.”

His expression changed in an instant.  Surprise and melancholy replaced with pure lasciviousness.  “That’s quite the offer, darling.  It’s not every day a gorgeous woman offers herself as my Christmas gift.”

Emma felt her face flame.  “Oh my gods!  I wasn’t propositioning you, Killian!”  (Though…if he kept looking at her like that…well, there was no telling what might come of this night.)

He sighed dramatically.  “My profound loss.  So, Swan, if you weren’t asking me for what, I assure you would be a very, very pleasant roll in the sheets, what precisely were you offering?”

“You see, my sister-in-law, Mary Margaret, had this idea for the holiday season….”  And with that she laid out the whole sappy challenge for him.  “And, I don’t know.  You just look like you could use a friend.  So what do you say?”

Killian took a long sip of his rum, and Emma tried her best not to watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, not to follow the line down to his firm chest where luscious, abundant chest hair peeked out from beneath a partially buttoned shirt.  “Oh I don’t know, Swan.  I rather think spending a night together in my bed would count as a kindness.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, not happening.  We’re talking warm, fuzzy, purely platonic acts of kindness.”

He sighed dramatically, and she grinned in spite of herself.  He was such an idiot.  But…he was an adorable idiot, and she couldn’t help but sense she’d enjoy the time she’d inevitably spend with him, should he accept her offer.

A soft, almost shy smile replaced the teasing on his face.  “Very well, Emma.  I will be the recipient of your challenge.”

NEXT CHAPTER->

[safyresky]

Also also writer asks 65, 67, and 74? :D

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

Deffs looking forward to wrapping up Crystal Springs! VERY excited to focus on the sequel! I'm also kinda excited to de-fanfic CS and make it like, it's own thing. I've been brainstorming ideas for that and it'll be exciting to act on them!

I also have this like. DREAM fic I'd LOVE to write one day for PotC, using every trope people did not like back when the movies were coming out. Like I'm talking next gen, magic making no sense; I'm dragging ATLANTIS INTO IT BAYBE!! ATLANTIS AND TELEKINESIS! It's like a little like. fantasy project and I don't know if I'd ever actually write it, but my GOD do I ever think about it a lot 😊😊😊

67. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

Both are good! Prompts are FUN as FUCK though! I love how they make me really like, think on my feet, you know? It's like, okay! Here's an idea! WHAT ARE YOU WRITING FOR IT?!?!?!? And the challenge is FUN >:)

Independent ideas are great too but so hard for me to think of on the fly. I gotta stew on those mofos!

74. You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

Abuse of syntax/punctuation in dialogue; abuse of the semicolon, lmao. Evil uncles, weirdly enough??? Idk what THAT'S about lol.

[bluejones]

what about now?

pairing: santi garcia x reader word count: 576 a/n: cs prompt challenge, week 2: “i miss you. i miss you so much it hurts.” ~ turning a sad prompt into something cute and fluffy with cuddles | read on AO3 here~

The afternoon sun shone through the bedroom window. You'd woken from your nap a while ago, but was content to stay where you were for the rest of the day. It was the weekend anyway, and you didn't have any other plans.

The bare chest you were laying on moved steadily with his breaths and your cheek rested against a part of his gold chain, probably making some indent on your face, which it often did.

Santi's fingers ran up and down your back lazily. "I think I need socks." His voice was abrupt in the silence and it made you jolt. You groaned, dissatisfied, and made an ‘uh uh’ sound in your throat. He just chuckled, "Yep. Need em." all while he tried to slide out from under you.

You tried to grip onto him so he'd stay but he was quick, and before you could really do anything, he was standing up from the bed.

"You're so mean. I'll never get comfy again." It was muffled into the covers as you laid down on your front, but you knew he heard from his responding scoff.

"Oh yes, so mean," he said sarcastically. "How do you put up with me?" 

He started rummaging through the drawer. You turned enough to see him and pretend to glare at him. "With much difficulty, that's for sure." You muffled your face into the covers again when he laughed at you.

After he didn't return to you for what felt like at least 5 minutes, you moved around and sat up on your elbows. He had changed the pair of socks he had when you'd first looked at him and was putting on something different. "What are you doing?"

"Ah," he said, hopping on one foot trying to get the other sock on. "I changed my mind, I like these better."

Your groan in response was exaggerated and you flopped back on the bed, hard. You whined, and rolled back over onto your stomach. "I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts." That was also exaggerated, and you thought you might throw in a fake cry for good measure but Santi came jumping onto the bed on his hands and knees, knocking you around a little.

"Aww, you miss me?" He collapsed right on top of you and draped himself across you so you could barely move.

"You miss me now?" He said with a laugh and he poked at your ribs, making your squirm.

"Yes." You managed to squeak out as you were at least able to move your head to the side so you could breathe. Santi rest his head on your shoulder, pressing his lips into it before brushing his cheek against yours. "Guess I'll just have to stay like this then."

You made a pleased sound and caressed his arm with your hand, the one you managed to get out from underneath both your weight. It wasn't exactly ideal but the weight of him on you released some of the tension you were still carrying, the reason you wanted to take a nap with him in the first place. You relaxed into it, helped by Santi’s steady breaths again and the way he nuzzled your cheek every so often.

After a while Santi hummed and with a smile, lifted his head off your cheek. "It's cold up here… Now I'm gonna need a shirt."

You gripped his arm tighter. "Don't you dare!"

[moon-kn1ght]

unclaimed promise.

for the cs prompt challenge week 1: “you owe me a kiss” // pairing Rydal Keener x Reader

“Next time I see you, you owe me a kiss.”

It was the last time you saw him. The two of you together, slipping quietly down cobbled streets in the early hours of the morning. He’d press your back up against the hard, cool surfaces of the walls of buildings and the windows of shops. Your noses would graze each other. Eyes filled with longing and just a twinge of regret.

Your lips would ghost against each other and then you’d turn your head.

“Not yet,” you’d whisper against his neck or into his ear as you pulled him further down the street, down the rue or avenue.

“If not now, then when?” Rydal would protest.

“Tomorrow. Or the day after.”

Rydal would shake his head because he knew that you knew that he wouldn’t be around tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d be off to work in Greece for the tourist season.

“Come back to me in the fall?”

“Always.”

Maybe all you were to each other was fleeting playthings? (But both of you knew that wasn’t true).

In the fall, you waited for him. You’d pass the time in the cafes that you two had spent the rains of April and May in. You’d traipse down the cobbled streets that you’d spent that final night on — fingers grazing over the same stone walls and glass windows, reaching for some connection to him. Some feeling of where he was. An answer to why he didn’t come back to you.

Fall seeped into winter and then into spring with no sign, no word from Rydal. He never came back to claim the kiss he was owed.

[darlingshittalk]

I hate the monthly prompt prizes too, on top of its faults.

Only the first prize gets a simple myo, while second and third get some items. I think if you are gonna put participants under popularity voting (where it's obvious the popular artist is gonna win above others), might as well offer better prizes for the other two.

I think pajuxi can afford more free myo per year (even succubuns offered 10 premades + 15 slots during their anniversary month). Im sure that would up the participation numbers if the other places had myo as prizes too (and if they were raffled). Because as of right now, the species is just beginner-unfriendly and beginner-artist-unfriendly.

Pajuxi is still running the species as she did 8-9 years ago. The formula is outdated and holding the community back (also slowly killing it).

[ao3feed-rhink]

stumbling

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/wtVjDu0

by lydz

link finds rhett in an awkward situation..

cs prompt challenge, week 8: "Let me watch you."

Words: 240, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Rhett & Link

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Rhett McLaughlin, Link Neal

Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal

Additional Tags: reference to masturbation, classic walking in on someone trope, this is better if you imagine there's Something going on, but they're still pretending there's not, they are Just Two Guys

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/wtVjDu0

[yulogica]

First 3 prompts for the Sweeticals Drawing Challenge!

1. Angel

2. Santa Claus

3. Elf

I like how they turned out.

Sweeticals are a cs by ScarletDestiney

[teachersupdates]

Education Ministry Responds to Students' Struggles with KUCCPS Application Process

Education Ministry Responds to Students' Struggles with KUCCPS Application Process The government has stepped in to address the difficulties faced by thousands of Form Four leavers attempting to apply for courses in colleges and universities. This intervention follows a recent report highlighting the challenges encountered by those utilizing the Kenya Universities and Colleges Central Placement Service (KUCCPS). Although the portal opened on February 7, using e-Citizen has proven to be a daunting task, prompting students to work tirelessly to complete their course applications. Ministry of Education data reveals that as of February 25, a total of 121,391 students with a grade of C+ and above in the 2023 Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education (KCSE) examination have applied for various courses. ALSO READ: KUCCPS Portal Challenges Persist as Students Opt for Midnight Course Applications This represents 60.8% of the 199,695 students who achieved a mean grade of C+ and above in the exams. Education Cabinet Secretary Ezekiel Machogu acknowledged the challenges in the application process and assured that the ministry, along with other government stakeholders, is collaborating to address these issues. A technical team comprising representatives from relevant agencies has been formed to expedite the application transactions. To address payment delays, the CS advised applicants to use the USSD code *222# to confirm payments and trigger validation. Mr. Machogu emphasized the ministry's commitment to ensuring that all eligible applicants have the opportunity to apply for programs and institutions of their choice. The initial application deadline of February 22 was extended to February 26. Considering the application pattern of 2022 KCSE candidates, it is projected that 86% of the 2023 KCSE candidates with C+ and above (171,738) will apply for placement. ALSO READ: 5 Cheap Artisan Courses on KUCCPS Portal & Institutions Offering Them The remaining 14% are expected to explore opportunities in non-participating universities, Module II Programs, or institutions of higher learning in other countries. As of February 25, 2022, 70% of all targeted applicants with C+ and above had applied for placement. Mr. Machogu announced that the ministry has instructed KUCCPS to extend the application deadline for seven more days, until March 4. Students with mean grades between C and E are encouraged to take advantage of ongoing applications to select their desired diploma, craft certificate, or artisan programs in Technical Vocational Education Training (TVET) institutions. Mr. Machogu stated that this group of students can walk into their preferred Ministry of Education TVET institutions for assistance with the application process. KUCCPS CEO Dr. Agnes Wahome acknowledged the frustrations faced by parents and students during the application process. She blamed e-Citizen for the inconvenience, citing longer payment validation processes affecting KUCCPS. Dr. Wahome assured stakeholders that the application deadline would be extended until the government ensures that no one is disadvantaged. KUCCPS will conduct two revision exercises for those who haven't applied or secured a course, and additional placements are available for TVET and Kenya Medical Training College. ALSO READ: KUCCPS Extends Course Application Deadline, Issues Payment Directive The organization is collaborating with Huduma Centres, universities, and colleges to guide applicants. Education Ministry Responds to Students' Struggles with KUCCPS Application Process Read the full article

[crimechannels]

By • Olalekan Fagbade Labour Party factions clash in court over gubernatorial election suit Two factions of Labour Party (LP), on Thursday, exchanged words shortly after a Federal High Court in Abuja adjourned for hearing an application to discontinue a suit against its Imo governorship candidate in the Nov. 11 election, Athan Achonu. Justice Inyang Ekwo adjourned the hearing until Jan. 11 after Kehinde Edun, who announced appearance for LP (1st plaintiff), told the court that he was in court to file a discontinuance notice in the matter. Upon resumed hearing, Edun, who also announced himself as National Legal Adviser of LP, said “on behalf of the 1st plaintiff, we want to inform the court that the 1st plaintiff was joined without authorisation. “I am here to file a notice of discontinuance. We have no case against the defendant (Indeoendent National Electoral Commission).” Taken aback by Edun’s submission, Anderson Asemota, who had been appearing for all the plaintiffs, including the 1st plaintiff (LP), said the matter was slated for hearing. He said he was served with a notice of joinder by Imo governorship candidate, Achonu, through his lawyer, Okwudili Anozie, who had earlier announced appearance as party seeking to be joined. “The national legal adviser said the suit was filed without authorisation.” the judge told Asemota. But Asemota said Edun was not the party’s national legal adviser. The lawyer, who said the national legal adviser had just stepped out, said the national youth leader was in court, pointing to a litigant, who stood up for recognition. Asemota stated that the LP, whom he represented in court, had not briefed him about discontinuance of the suit. Besides, he said he had not been served with the notice Edun planned to file. He argued that as a procedure, Edun had to be in the matter first by applying to be joined before he would notify him of his plan to file a notice of discontinuance. The judge then asked Edun if he had served Asemota with the application. “I will serve them now,” Edun responded. Justice Ekwo consequently adjourned the matter until Jan. 11 to hear the notice of discontinuance. The News Agency of Nigeria (NAN) reports that while Asemota represented Alhaji Lamidi Apapa faction, Edun appeared for Julius Abure-led faction of LP. Meanwhile, shortly after the court adjourned the matter, some members loyal to Apapa appeared in court, challenging Edun’s move to discontinue their suit. The development resulted in shouting match prompting the officers of the Kings Guard and some staff members of the court to intervene. NAN reports that the plaintiffs in the suit marked: FHC/ABJ/CS/1357/2023 include LP; Alhaji Apapa (Acting National Chairman); Alhaji Lawal Saleh (Acting National Secretary) and Comrade Abayomi Arabambi (National Publicity Secretary). Others are Comrade Anslem Eragbe (National Youth Leader); Barr. Akingbade Oyelekan (National Legal Adviser) and Chief Joseph Ikechukwu Ukaegbu (Gubernatorial candidate, Imo State) as 1st to 7th plaintiffs respectively. The plaintiffs, in their motion ex-parte, sued INEC as sole defendant. They had sought an order of interim injunction restraining INEC from “recognising any other person or persons laying claim to the LP gubernatorial ticket in Imo governorship election slated for 11th November, 2023 other than the 7th plaintiff (Ukaegbu) who emerged from the primary conducted by the Lamidi Apapa-led National Working Committee (NWC) of LP on April 16. They also sought an order of mandatory injunction directing or compelling INEC to recognise, upload and publish Ukaegbu’s name as LP governorship candidate in Imo, pending the hearing and determination of the motion on notice filed contemporaneously with this ex-parte application. They equally sought an order of mandatory injunction directing INEC to upload Apapa and Saleh’s names as the acting national chairman and acting national secretary including other Apapa-led NWC members, pending the pending the

hearing and determination of the motion on notice filed contemporaneously with this ex-parte application. But Justice Ekwo declined to grant the motion, directing them to put INEC on notice to respond why the court should not grant the application In its response, INEC prayed the court to dismissed Apapa’s motion, seeking to replace the party’s governorship candidate in Imo. INEC, in its affidavit to show cause pursuant to the court order, told Justice Ekwo that the plaintiffs’ suit was statue barred.(NAN)