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thejollyroger-writer · 3 years

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THE WASTELAND - HOME (15/15)

Some triggers: this story is rated TEEN, mostly for violence. It takes place during wartime, and some of the characters go through some violence and torture. If you need more information about this, please just message me!

SUMMARY: In a world that has been saturated in war for as long as anyone can remember, Emma Swan has rebuilt her life as far away from the chaos as possible, opening her own maternity hospital after spending too many years in makeshift battlefield aid stations. But one night, a bloodied and battered soldier finds her hospital trying to get away from an enemy with a penchant for torture and a personal vendetta against him. With the help of Emma’s childhood friend Prince David and a motley collection of humans and magic-wielders, the quest to save Killian Jones’ life from the poison used by the enemy takes them to places even beyond the known world.

A/N: Can you believe it? This story is COMPLETE, which feels surreal and ethereal in unexplainable ways. I've literally been writing this story longer than it took me to write my masters' thesis -- though, needing to write my masters' thesis is most of the reason it has taken me this long. Thank you all for sticking around through it all, if you've been here since the beginning -- and if you've hopped on somewhere along the way, you're just as important to me. Thank you, all. Enjoy the last chapter.

Start from the Beginning // Also on AO3!

For a long, drawn-out moment, nothing happens. Emma can feel the beating of her heart in her stomach and fears that something has gone wrong, attempting to use her unhoned magic for too big a task too quickly.

And then, she feels her feet shift on uneven ground and she dares to open her eyes.

Sand.

They're on the shore. Everyone is on the shore, Belle still tending to Will's wounded shoulder and Mary Margaret comforting David, his pain obvious on his face. Killian releases her hand, rushing to the prince's side with his canteen at the ready. The water doesn't heal David as quickly as it did Killian, but as he swallows the few sips he was given, his expression grows relieved and the tendrils of poison retract across his exposed chest before disappearing from the site of the wound. It's not nearly as climactic as Killian's healing was (Emma refuses to think about why that might be) but she still feels a weight lifted from her chest as all traces of the poison disappear, leaving only a small cut on his side where the arrow nicked him.

Killian and Mary Margaret simultaneously sigh an audible breath of relief, her petite form almost comically small as she leans into Killian's shoulder.

"Let's get off this bloody island," Killian says, allowing only a moment's pause before he helps Dave to his feet — though his words are practically forgotten as the forest begins to groan and grumble, trees snapping, cracking, falling to the ground behind them.

And they watch as four, five, six boys move through the treeline, all dressed in rags and covered in dirt.

"The Lost Boys!" Wendy cries, rushing towards them.

"Please take us home with you, Wendy," the one who looks to be the oldest begs, terror obvious on his face, as on all of their faces.

She turns to look at David. "Without Pan's magic, the island will disappear, and the boys will die."

David shakes his head. "I have no argument."

"What about what Pan told your brothers? That only the amount who arrived can leave?" Regina's voice is heavy with worry. None of them want to leave the boys behind, but if it means that no one will make it home, it's a much heavier question.

But Belle is the one to answer. "With Pan defeated, the island holds no power. Even if it wanted to stop us from leaving, it is no longer able."

The oldest boy knits his eyebrows. "Does that mean—" he starts, but is silenced by a deafening thump as another large tree hits the ground, this one not far from the shore and sending a tremor under their feet.

"Welcome aboard the Jolly Roger," Killian says with a smile, gesturing for the boys to lead the way to the waterline and aboard the ship.

"Rufio, where's Felix?" Wendy asks, walking beside the oldest of the boys.

But the boy shakes his head. "He's always been the most dedicated to Pan and here longer than the rest of us, you know that. He said he would rather die here with Neverland than become a traitor."

"Oh, Felix," she breathes, but it does not keep her or the other boys from boarding.

As the rest of them move towards the ship, Emma moves to stand beside Killian, who is waiting to go last as the captain does. He pats Robin on the shoulder, the pain of losing Graham sinking in once more as his body is carried onto the ship. “Take him below decks. Merlin can show you where to find what you’ll need to wrap him.” Robin just nods.

"We did it, Swan," he breathes, reaching down to squeeze her hand. "How do you feel?"

"It's almost surreal," she replies, lifting his hand so she can look at his arm. She still barely believes it, would not have believed the way the water healed him if she hadn't seen it herself — and she still had trouble understanding how easily he was healed by her magic, even after learning of their connection, their destiny.

She still doesn't want to believe it, really. Everyone is so sure that it's about them, that they were prophesied ages ago to go on this journey, to save each other. She's not denying their connection, not anymore, but she still struggles to believe that they were destined to be together because some ancient seer decided it was supposed to be so.

"Let's go home," he says finally, gesturing for Emma to follow Robin and Regina onto the Jolly Roger.

Home. He's not even sure where home is anymore. For years, it was in the Northern Mountains, then with Dave and his band of followers after returning from Neverland. He's been ready for a new home for a while, he realizes, following Emma onto his ship. With her, he hopes. Hell, he's never wanted anything as much as he has wanted to be with her. They're destined to be together, but all he wants to do is kiss her, find all the things that make her happy and never stop giving them to her. He wants to wake up beside her, learn the way her golden waves look in the morning sun, the way she takes her coffee. If it means working beside her in the hospital, doing everything he can to help her while hopefully keeping them from harm — hell, he'll work in a maternity hospital. For her. He would do anything for her.

They leave the island behind quickly, the Lost Boys, Wendy, and a fully-healed Will watching it crumble, leaving behind nothing but a pile of ash and a cloud of dirt that covers the horizon.

Killian doesn't turn back. Some of the others peer over their shoulders but Killian seems to be the only one fully content leaving the island behind without a second thought — but, then again, he is the only one among them to have experienced it twice, to have it take multiple people he loves from him, even if it brought others together.

He thinks of Graham, being prepared belowdecks for burial at sea once they're out of the wretched Neverland waters; he thinks of Milah, who sacrificed so much, who hid her true identity from a world she felt so unsafe in, gone forever in the pile of rubble and debris.

Liam. He thinks of his brother, releasing the helm to feel the large ring hanging from his neck between his fingers. He left Liam behind in Neverland twice, never able to give him the burial at sea he always wanted. Well, he thinks, turning his head to glance behind him, if the entire island crumbles into the sea, then Liam is finally laid to rest as he would have wanted.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to look back," Merlin says from the spot he has found against the railing, only using the basest of his powers to move the ship along the waters until they take to the sky.

"I wasn't going to," he confesses, looking down at the ring once more. "But then I thought of Liam, and the burial at sea he deserved and never got."

"Well, the whole damned island got a burial at sea, and that sure as hell included him."

Killian nods, managing a smile. "That's what I thought, too."

They travel along the water for a few hours, pausing around dusk to bid their final farewells to Graham before taking to the sky. The sun sinks below the horizon, and Killian turns to the same star charts they used on the journey there to guide them home, though this time Emma takes part in all of it: helping Merlin and Belle fly the ship, learning the stars that they use to guide them back to the Northern Mountains. He has always felt at peace behind the helm of this ship, even when it was his brother's; having Emma beside him, his chest pressed against her back as he points over her shoulder towards the stars, is the most at home he has ever felt, and he wishes — on the stars that guide them home, on any good luck charm he has ever known, praying to the gods who have seemed to answer him a lot lately — that it's not a feeling that disappears.

The journey back isn’t as celebratory as expected from a group of people who have evaded what they all believed would be certain death. David and Mary Margaret spend most of the trip in the lieutenant’s quarters, Mary Margaret finding the sleep that evaded her the last few days, the two of them taking turns caring for the other. Merlin and Belle spend the return trip just as they did the journey there, guiding the ship through the air, though when Emma is feeling at her strongest, she attempts to assist them. (The rest of the crew does not fail to notice how Will spends much of his time sitting against the railing near wherever Belle has stationed herself, eating what seems to be a never ending supply of apples and chocolate and other types of random snacks and reading the books spread across his lap, even though he was never known to be a voracious reader before.) Similarly, after being comforted by her after Graham’s burial, Robin and Regina spend most of their time together, a pairing of sensible pantsuits and olive green attire that none of them saw coming.

Wendy and the Lost Boys spend most of their time gaping at the views over the railing, trying their hardest not to get airsick to avoid ridicule, filling their stomachs with each of Merlin and Belle’s smorgasbords as if they have never seen that much food in their life — Killian doesn’t let himself think about how long they may have been in Neverland, just how long it has been since their last decent meal, and he is happy to be the one to offer it to them.

"What are we going to do with them?" Mary Margaret asks Emma one night as she sits with her on the deck, picking at the half-eaten sandwich on the plate in her lap.

"With who?"

She points to the boys, throwing small rocks and food scraps off the deck of the ship and laughing as they disappear into the clouds below them.

"I guess we're going to—" she starts, but then realizes that she has no idea how to finish the sentence and leans closer to her friend. "What are we going to do with them?"

It's a thought that never even crossed her mind. She's been so worried about returning to the life she had, possibly even learning to include Killian in the chaos of running the hospital, that she never stopped to think about the people whose lives have been upended because of their trip. Who knows how long the boys have been stuck on Neverland, how long it has been since they were taken from their families — if they ever had them in the first place. Emma remembers the long nights on the streets of the Gale when she wished she were anywhere else,praying to whichever of the gods was listening to give her a place to belong. That's what Pan did for these boys in his own wretched way, she realizes.

“Who knows how long they were stuck on that island. I doubt many of them have thought about what they would do if they ever returned.”

But Emma shakes her head, remembering the nights she stared up at the stars and wondered what her life could be like if she were in any other situation. “I can assure you that some of them have thought about it.” She doesn’t mean for her voice to be that soft, to make the hurt so apparent in her words. She tries not to play the orphan card, especially around Mary Margaret, whose empathy is so strong Emma sometimes thinks she fully understands the heartbreak she tries her hardest to hide even though she only recently lost her father and sees her mother as often as her and David’s schedule allows.

Mary Margaret just nods, taking a bite of her sandwich. “I suppose we could start by talking to them.”

Emma can’t help but laugh, thinking of how she would have responded in their place — which, she supposes, is exactly what David did, granting her a new life in the infirmary. She wonders if any of them have discovered their powers, or if they would simply hide, dormant, for the years they spend without aging in Neverland. “We should wait until morning, though,” she comments, watching as one of the younger boys lets out a big yawn across the deck. When she turns back to Mary Margaret, she is stifling a yawn of her own. “Looks like it’s your bedtime, too,” she adds with a soft laugh.

“I’m just so tired all the time. Is this all that pregnancy is?”

“I have no firsthand experience to share, but from what I’ve heard, yeah, that’s a big part of it.”

“Someday, Emma,” Mary Margaret comments, and it’s a thought that hits her like a truck. Sure, she’s spent years in the maternity hospital, helping other women bring babies into this world, but having one of her own was never a thought that crossed her mind. Is that what she wants? Could she even bring a child into a world so full of violence and terror and the exact things they’ve been battling for the last few weeks, not to mention the War that has affected every facet of the world for longer than anyone can remember.

It’s at least not a thought that she needs to focus on right now.

“Hey, love,” Killian says, thankfully pulling her out of the depths of her own mind as he approaches them from across the deck. “We’re going to begin the descent back to the water soon. Just wanted to let you know.”

“Thanks, Killian,” she replies, offering him a soft smile, which he answers with a soft kiss to her cheek.

“I’m going to bed, then,” Mary Margaret says, one hand on her stomach as she reaches out to squeeze Emma’s hand with the other, then moves across the deck to the stairs.

“I can’t wait to be on the water again,” Killian says after a moment of silence, leaning back against the railing, and she steps into his arms.

“Why is that?”

“There’s just something calming about it, something that’s not there in the sky or even on the land. The moment the hull hits the water, I just feel… peace.” She hums, resting her forehead against his shoulder. “It’s not just the ocean, either, though. Graham always laughed at me when I would go stand in the rain, or sometimes stay in the shower for longer than I meant to.”

Emma leans back to look up at him, gears turning in her head. Rain. Showers. The ocean. The way his body reacted to the pool on Dead Man’s Peak. Water. “Killian,” she whispers, then cups her hand between them, creating a small pool of water in her palm. “Can you… move this?”

He looks first at her, then at her hands, his dark brows furrowed low on his forehead. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, love.”

“Was your mother one of the merfolk?”

This makes his eyebrows jump towards his hairline, bright eyes wide. “Pardon?”

“Your mother,” she repeats. “I know she passed when you were young, but what do you know about her? Was she a mermaid?”

“No. No, that’s… that’s crazy,” he whispers, staring down at the water in her palm, slowly dripping through her fingers onto the deck between his worn boots.

“Can you just try? For me?” Remembering how her magic reacted to his touch, she reaches her free hand out and rests it on his hip.

He nods, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. “What do I need to do?”

“Think about what you want it to do. Close your eyes. Feel it.”

“What do I want it to do?”

With a soft chuckle, she turns her eyes up to his, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter. Just… anything.”

He nods, but stays silent, holding up his hand in the space between them as he squeezes his eyes shut. Somehow, Emma can feel what he’s thinking, imagines the small sphere of water rising above her hand before it happens — but then it’s there, right before her eyes, hovering above her palm.

"Bloody hell," he mumbles, his eyes darting to meet hers for a moment instead of staring at the sphere. "And you're… this isn't you?"

"No," she whispers, picturing it falling back to her hand just to make sure — but it stays there, hovering a few inches above her palm.

“Of the merfolk,” he whispers, the sphere splashing back down into Emma’s hands. “I never even imagined.”

“I’ve known for a very long time,” Merlin quips from behind them, his eyes closed but obviously paying attention to them.

“For real? And you never thought to tell me?”

He shrugs. “It was not my secret to share.”

“Why did I not learn about it sooner?”

Emma gasps, pulling Killian’s gaze back to her, and Merlin laughs, finally opening his eyes. “So you figured it out, then?”

“The Prophecy,” she whispers, barely believing the words as she says them. “Their strengths will finally be revealed. That’s the line, right?”

Merlin nods.

“Not just my strength, but both of ours. He needed… me. Us.”

It’s another piece of the puzzle that fits a little too well, that makes it hard to deny that they are the ones from the prophecy, brought together by destiny. A chill runs down her spine as Killian’s jaw drops, realizing exactly what her words meant.

“Bloody hell,” he mumbles. “I need… sorry, love,” he mumbles, backing away from her to go and stand by himself, looking out over the moonlit water as the ship makes its descent.

Emma’s heart drops and she crosses her arms, leaning back until her hips hit the railing behind her. Is it too much for him, now? The man that confessed his love for her in a cave, who has believed in their connection since the first he heard of it? She understands needing space — she would be a hypocrite if she claimed she didn’t — but she still feels a heaviness in her chest, and icy pain in her heart as she thinks of the worst-case scenario: Killian turning away from her just as she realizes she is ready to be with him. When she feels her lip quiver, she pulls it up between her teeth, turning her back to where Killian is standing and taking a few steps away from him. Part of her wants to disappear belowdecks, curl up in her hammock and hide from her feelings, as alone as she has ever been. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tries to take herself somewhere else: counting the supplies in the basement of her hospital, walking along the well-known trails by her house — the very house that she dreamt of sharing with Killian not too long ago. She shakes that thought away and tries again, this time in the palace gardens where she learned most of what she knows about plants, about healing. Then she’s in the hallway, aiding David in a meeting with his advisors, focusing on the echoing of her boots on the stone floors and not the fears running through her mind.

Across the deck, Killian turns to look at her, trying to organize the thoughts jumbled in his brain. A merfolk. He has learned so much over the last few weeks, about the world, his friends, his enemies — himself, more than anything else. He has tasted death and felt true grief, witnessed unexplainable things, traveled to places he has spent more than a decade trying to forget. Every step was harder than the previous, pushing himself harder and farther than he thought he was capable — and for every step, she has been there, healing him inside and out, stitching together his wounds and piecing together the remains of his broken heart. Why is this so difficult for him to grasp, given all of the other impossible things he has witnessed since Emma Swan entered his life? Water has always calmed him, healed him, given him a sanctuary in times when he had no others, the same way Emma became his sanctuary.

He loves her, he realizes, not for the first time, though the thought still threatens to knock him off his feet. He loves her in ways he never knew were possible, more than he ever imagined being able to love someone, loves her in a way that fills the deepest parts of him, dark spaces that hold his regrets and his fears and the few things he has allowed himself to dream about. And there is nothing, no feeling that can compare to the warmth that washes over him when she holds his hand, when she smiles at him. His mind separated the two, his powers and his love for Emma, but he realizes now, in this moment, turning away from the water to find her, that they are not two separate things. His powers only exist because of his love for her, and though the time they have spent together is only the first drop in the ocean of the rest of their lives, he wants to look back on his life overwhelmed by the memories they create together, better because of the other.

Then, he notices the pain on her face, her eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip pulled between her teeth, and her arms wrapped around her knees as she sits alone by the railing — alone, exactly where he left her. He crosses quickly, his footsteps hard against the wooden planks, and kneels in front of her, carefully reaching out to brush his fingers against her hand.

“Emma?” he whispers, but it is not loud enough to break through the wall that has formed around her, protecting her from whatever kind of hurt she feared he was leaving her with. Leaving her, he realizes. That’s what she fears, more than anything else. Is that what she thinks he is doing? “Emma, love, I’m sorry.” This time, his voice is a bit louder, his fingers a bit firmer on her hand, and her eyes open, a runaway tear falling down her cheek.

“What?” She raises her hand to wipe her cheek, but Killian beats her to it.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, covering her hand with his once more. “I shouldn’t have — walking away from you like that, it was unfair. I don’t want you to think…” he clears his throat, trying his best to smile at her through his stuttering before starting again. “I’m here, love. With you. That’s not going to change.”

“Promise?” she whispers, unable to control the quivering of her lip, and he learns more about her with that single word than the rest of their journey. The both have dark pasts, Emma’s even more than his own, and the traumas that they have endured have left pieces of them broken, pieces that may never be fixed, but pieces that perhaps can be soothed, especially when the darkness rears its head.

None of the words that come to mind are good enough. He nods. Laughs, thankfully answered with a smile of her own. And then leans into her, holding himself up against the railing to keep from crashing into her as he finds her lips with his own. It’s the best promise he can give her, and when she reaches up and slides her fingers through his hair, her other hand tightening around the collar of his jacket, he can’t help but laugh against her lips, mumbling the words that have been waiting on the tip of his tongue for the right moment.

“I love you, Emma,” he says, and she resituates them so they are laying beside each other on the deck, pulling herself into him in ways his previous wounds never would have allowed.

“I love you,” she repeats with a giggle of her own, her lips finding his again as the ship touches down on the water, lurching against the surface.

They’re back. The real world — Nephylisis, the Gale, the War. The Wasteland. But they have each other.

Anything is possible.

TAGS: @shireness-says @cssns @kmomof4 @thisonesatellite @teamhook @darkcolinodonorgasm @cocohook38 @ultraluckycatnd @facesiousbutton82 @hollyethecurious @stahlop @tiganasummertree @angellifedeath @pepperpottss @mariakov81 @scientificapricot @kday426 @xarandomdreamx @ohmightydevviepuu @xhookswenchx @nikkiemms @carpedzem @superchocovian @resident-of-storybrooke @snowbellewells @courtorderedcake @captain-emmajones @killian-whump @officerrogers @killianjonesownsmyheart1 @captainkillianswanjones – want to be added or removed? let me know!

#the wasteland #my writing #wordsbymeganmichael #cssns #cssns 2020 #my fic #captain swan #cs ff #cs fic #ouat ff #fantasy au #if you made it this far and found yourself in the tags please know there is a secret epilogue #but i'm not changing the chapter count #its already written in my head it just needs to come out

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jarienn972 · 3 years

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La Sirena - Chapter Ten (Epilogue)

Captain Swan Supernatural Summer

(that’s finally being completed in winter)

We have reached the finale of this @cssns tale at last. This has been such a fun and challenging experience trying to build this universe, and I hope that readers have found it enjoyable as well. Thanks for all of your lovely words and feedback along the way!

I thank you, @kmomof4, for all of your assistance and input. You rock as a beta! And @courtorderedcake, thank you once again for the beautiful artwork that really brought to life the imagery of the opening chapter!

And now, back to the story... Here, we pick up moments after a stubborn and confused Killian pretended to be asleep to avoid his brother. He’s about to get a wonderful surprise...

Catch up from the beginning here on Tumblr: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Or read in full on AO3 or FF.net

The instant that Killian was certain that Liam was out of earshot and wouldn't be present to scold him for faking sleep, his eyelids sprang open wide to behold the most wondrous sight. Perched in the chair just to his left was the very same angelic vision he'd first laid eyes on back on that deserted beach days ago. She looked different with her long, gilded tresses pulled back by a ribbon and seemed a bit more diminutive while wearing a vastly oversized sailor's white uniform tunic and navy woolen trousers but he knew for certain it was her.

But how? How was he gazing upon a beautiful siren here in his own quarters? How could she be here and still be real?

"Emma? It's you!" he exclaimed, trying to sit upright to greet her properly despite the pain. "What are you doing here? How are you even here, Love?

"One question at a time," she chuckled as she reached over and placed her hand atop his forearm to urge him not to move. The moment her fingers brushed his skin, he felt a tingle pass through his entire body - one that was warm and tender. His heart was suddenly racing, but it was no longer driven by fear or anxiety. He welcomed her touch, her presence. "I'm here because this is where I belong and it would seem that even the gods agree."

"But you're a siren. I thought your home was those isles and the surrounding seas? I thought you couldn't leave without…" His voice trailed off before he could say sacrificing your powers.

Her demeanor rapidly switched from jovial to serious at Killian's off-handed, yet important questions. Her eyes avoided his for a moment, then recaptured his gaze with an intensity he'd not seen from her before. There was a new melancholy about her as she took in a deep, reflective breath before responding.

"That cove was no longer my home. In truth, it was far more of a prison for longer than I care to remember. I thought I was happy alone when I left the ranks of the siren council, but I had no idea how wrong I was - until you floated into my bay." Killian's jaw gaped in stunned silence as he watched the tears begin to well in her eyes, but she shushed him when he tried to reply. There was more to her confession that she needed him to hear before he could respond properly. "I may have rescued you from drowning that fateful day, but it was you who rescued me from an eternity of loneliness. And then watching my sister attempting to harm you only strengthened my resolve…" She paused to take a breath, unsure how he was going to react to her next words. "I guess what I am trying to say is that I am here right now on this ship, wearing these ridiculous garments because I knew I couldn't let you go. I risk sounding like a fool right now, but there is something I must confess. I love you, Lieutenant Killian Charles Arthur Jones of His Majesty's Royal Navy. Nothing in my entire lifetime has felt as right as the days I spent with you, and because of that, I asked the mighty Poseidon to make me human so that I could accompany you."

"Emma… I…," he stammered, his thoughts an incoherent jumble.

Her jaw wavered as she dipped her head, almost ashamed of her utterance. "I'm sorry if I've upset you, but after all we've been through these past days, I believed you should know the truth. I do understand if you do not feel the same as I do."

Ignoring his body's cries of pain, Killian threw off the blanket and forced his protesting limbs to sit upright, swinging his legs over the side of the bunk so he could position himself close enough to her that he could cup her cheek in his palm and brush away a tear with the pad of his thumb.

"Emma, there is no need for tears," he assured her. "While I will admit that your revelation to be a siren - and all of the events that followed - were a tad horrifying, I still knew I would gladly spend the remainder of my years stranded in that cove with you. But you, you gave up being a siren - being immortal - for me?"

"What good was being immortal if it meant losing you?" she said with a sniffle just as Killian leaned forward to capture her lips with his, neither of them even caring if Liam were to reenter Killian's quarters right then and there. For a brief moment, the universe was theirs alone until Killian's protesting rib cage caused him to reluctantly pull away, but not without more questions.

"But my brother and the crew, they didn't suspect you to be any less than human? Liam, he addressed you as Miss Swan? Since I don't believe that sirens have family names, wherever did that come from? Whatever did you tell them whilst I was incapacitated?"

"No one suspects me to be a siren, if that is your worry. Once your fellow crew members reached the cove to rescue you, I had to tell them something, so I led them to believe that I was a fellow prisoner from the sunken pirate ship. They believe that the pirates attacked my family's vessel prior to abducting you on that isle of Neverland you spoke of. It isn't as though any of them could corroborate my story with your captors. The crew also collected several damaged trunks and weathered chests that had washed up on the shore, believing them to be part of the stolen loot from the sunken ship. I happened to notice that there was a swan's head carved into one of the wooden trunks so as I boarded this vessel, I introduced myself to your captain as Emma Swan. Do you believe I should have chosen something else?"

Killian chuckled at the thought of her thinking up a surname on the spot. "I don't think anyone will make the connection. I kind of like it. You're beautiful and graceful like a swan. It suits you."

"Thank you," she blushed. "I hardly feel beautiful in these borrowed clothes. This fabric, it is rather unpleasant."

"I'm sure we can find you some attire more suitable for a lady when we next make port. Women aren't common on the high seas. There's an old legend that they're unlucky."

"What nonsense," she muttered with a frown. "But no matter. I have it on good authority that no harm will come to this ship. No creature of the seas would dare challenge Poseidon's edict."

"I still don't understand how this is possible. How does my brother not know that the expedition to the uncharted island went horribly wrong? He wants to award me a bloody commendation that I don't deserve. They think I've lost my mind."

"This will need to be our secret, but the events as you remember them never actually transpired," she stated, which of course left Killian befuddled. He opened his mouth, prepared with a barrage of questions, but she raised a hand to shush him, wanting to explain what she meant before letting him speak. "I know you will have many questions, some of which I will never be able to answer, but in simple terms, Poseidon modified all of the events that led up to your brother's ship arriving to rescue us from the cove. Everything that transpired remained in the same order, but not in the same manner. You still encountered the pirates on that island, they still took you prisoner, and the sirens still laid siege to the ship before it ran aground and sank, but Poseidon changed the scope of each event and allowed your brother's ship to pursue the pirate vessel to locate you. Your injuries were all believed to have come at the hands of your pirate captors and during the escape from the sinking vessel. They have no reason to suspect otherwise."

"But what about my crew? Does no one remember their sacrifices?" he queried anxiously, afraid that those men's lives had been lost in vain.

"Some of them were never there, never set foot on the island. Others were there but their fates were changed by the modified events," she explained, although her words did little to alleviate his confusion. "In this revised timeline, there was no actual battle with those scoundrels. You alone were captured by the pirates. I have no way else to explain, but essentially, Poseidon changed how your history played out. No one beyond our realm will ever know of the version you lived through."

His jaw remained slack as he shook his head and tried to come to terms with a turn of events that was nothing short of miraculous. "But how? Why?" he stammered. "Why would he do such a thing?"

"He said I reminded him of his daughter, Ursula, and he recognized your good heart - much like the man Ursula fell in love with so long ago. He knew you'd been wronged, as had I, and he wanted to put things right. He granted my wish to become human and accompany you, and brought your brother's ship into the bay so you could be saved by your kind."

"Do you know what became of your sister?"

"Not all. I do know that she had her powers revoked for abusing them and that she was made mortal, although not by choice in her case. I don't know if Poseidon turned her human or made her a permanent creature of the sea, and in truth, I don't care. I've made my peace with it. Now, all I wish is to be with you, if you'll have me."

"I wish for nothing else," he replied with a beaming smile. "I just don't know what sort of life I can provide for a former siren… There's so much out there…"

"And I want to experience it all!" she exclaimed giddily as she gestured towards the faded map of Britannia that Killian had pinned to one of the beams lining the walls of his cabin. "I know little of the world beyond our isles. If my time is now finite, I want to see and experience as much as possible! I want to visit these other lands and sail the other seas…"

Killian chuckled at her enthusiasm, not really sure what would be physically possible, but hey - after surviving several harrowing encounters with mythical beings and living to tell the fantastical tales, he was open to adventure.

"Whatever your heart desires, Emma. Whatever your heart desires is what I want for you," he repeated as he pulled his siren - his beautiful angel - in for another heartfelt, lengthy kiss, almost certain that he felt a surge of energy embrace them both.

A few years later…

It was a perfect morning. Only a few wispy clouds broke up the brilliant blue skies as gentle ripples made their way across the serene harbor. Crew lowered and secured the huge canvas sails of the Jewel of the Realm as Liam oversaw their arrival at the dock. His sailors worked like a well-oiled machine performing their tasks, which was a good thing since their Captain might have been a tad distracted.

Instead of supervising lines being tied off, Liam was scanning the shoreline in search of something - or rather, someone. He'd made sure to send out correspondence through courier when they last made port making sure that Killian was aware the Jewel was on its way to the port of Misthaven where they'd agreed to rendezvous.

He hadn't been particularly overjoyed when Killian had decided to resign his commission upon return to Britannia, but if he was honest, the decision hadn't come as much of a surprise. His little brother had endured a harrowing experience, one that Liam knew he could never fully understand. In the process, he'd formed a bond with the lovely Swan woman and Liam had seen all the signs that Killian had fallen head over heels in love and feared lengthy deployments at sea that would keep him apart from his love.

Liam also had to admit that he was a little envious of his brother, but it was clear that while Killian loved the sea, his calling wasn't a career in His Majesty's Royal Navy. He knew that his sibling had taken up as captain of a merchant ship, but since it had been nearly a year and a half since he had last seen Killian, he was curious to see how his brother was faring in his new pursuits.

"Ahoy, brother!" he heard a shout from the pier and off in the distance, he spotted his sibling waving like a fool. And was he wearing black leather?

Once the Jewel was safely moored, Liam gave out his instructions for crew liberty and then made his way down the gangplank with dozens of rambunctious sailors at his heels. He chuckled as they darted past him, scurrying along the pier on their way to one of the local taverns. At least one of them would likely end up spending a night in the brig for overindulgence, but Liam couldn't be bothered with that right now.

His brother awaited him at the far end of the pier, casually leaning against a stone pillar with his foot propped up on an overturned barrel. It was a far more confident stance than Liam recalled when they'd last seen each other, but it was Killian's attire that spoke volumes about his newfound fortitude. He'd not expected to find Killian sporting an ebony leather duster that hung to his knees atop of a bold crimson waistcoat and black woolen trousers that, even from a distance, appeared to be far softer than Liam's own scratchy uniform. Killian clearly seemed to be happy and must have been doing well for himself to afford such luxuries.

"You look well, brother," Killian greeted him.

"As do you," Liam replied, pulling his younger sibling into an embrace and patting him heartily on the back. "Whatever are you wearing?"

"Ah, this…," Killian smiled as he took a step back so Liam could take in all of the elaborate detail on the coat which included embroidered cuffs and lapels along with silver clasps and carved bone buttons. "This was a gift from Queen Ava. The circumstances behind how it came to be is a rather long tale that I'll not bore you with since we've little time to catch up."

"Of course…," Liam responded, raising his eyes skyward with a shake of his head. Killian always seemed to have a new, unbelievable tale these days. "Where ever is that lovely wife of yours? I expected she would be here with you."

"She's waiting for us back on our ship. It's getting a tad more difficult for her to get around these days."

"So then, my new niece or nephew will be arriving soon?"

"Soon enough. Likely before the next full moon. It is why we'll be sailing back to the port of Arendelle, leaving the day after tomorrow," an excited Killian announced.

"Arendelle?" Liam questioned. "Why are you heading there?"

"We were invited by the Queen, and one simply does not turn down the invitation of royalty."

"You were invited by Queen Elsa?" Liam asked incredulously as they ambled along the cobblestone street towards another section of Misthaven's bustling harbor that was filled with smaller fishing boats and merchant ships. He tried to figure out which of the vessels was the one Killian now owned but he couldn't be certain.

"Queen Anna, actually," Killian corrected him. "Queen Elsa stepped down from the throne last year as she believed her more vivacious sister was better suited to handle the duties of the royal court."

"Alright, but that still doesn't explain how you secured a royal invitation."

"While sailing the Northern Isles last summer, we stumbled upon the wreckage of a galleon that had partially sunk in a narrow, rocky fjord. We explored it to see if there was anything worthy of salvage and located a chest containing a crown and other treasures that had been stolen from the Kingdom of Arendelle. We returned the riches to the castle and received a hefty finders fee for our efforts and Emma made fast friends with the Queen. We've made several visits back to Arendelle and have kept in correspondence with the royal family. As soon as Queen Anna learned that Emma was with child, she extended the royal invitation to come join them in the castle. She's already arranged a midwife for Emma, and has said we're welcome to stay as long as we wish. Can you imagine - living in a castle? I would never have thought it possible…"

"I'm very happy for you, Killian, and very proud of you as well. For someone who believed himself a failure not so long ago, you seem to have fortune smiling upon you."

"It hardly seems possible, brother. I feel like the luckiest bloke in all the world," Killian gushed, stopping at the bottom of the gangplank of a decent sized ship with a single towering mast. It was far more compact than the Jewel, but still large enough to carry crew and cargo comfortably. "Here we are. This is our lovely lady, La Sirena."

"Beautiful vessel. Interesting choice of name though. What led you to christen her after such a creature?"

"Oh, I have my reasons," Killian smirked. "But anyway, here's Emma now." A broad smile lit up Killian's visage as he stared up at his wife who was leaning over the railing on the deck above them. "It's almost unfathomable how I ever got so lucky that the gods would send such an angel to watch over me." Emma didn't say a word herself but the smile that stretched from ear to ear across her own face seemed to echo his sentiment.

But then maybe she suspected that the love that blossomed from a heart that was true and good was worth far more than a little bit of luck.

#cssns #cssns 2020 #captain swan supernatural summer #cs ff #cs au ff #siren emma #la sirena

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eastwesthomeisbest · 3 years

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I’ll be Waiting For You by the Blood Moon 8/11

Chapter 7

And here are the artworks to join the seventh chapter of the amazing story written by @cocohook38 for @cssns (@kmomof4 )

/Prologue/ /Chapter 1/ /Chapter 2/ /Chapter 3/

/Chapter 4/ /Chapter 5/ /Chapter 6/ /Chapter 7/

Also in AO3

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allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 · 4 years

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The Wolf and the Savior - fic by @teamhook A Lost Girl-inspired CS AU for @cssns 2020

Loosely inspired by an episode of Lost Girl...

When danger looms over Emma Swan, Killian Jones offers to give up a major part of himself in exchange for her safety, but the Norn has different ideas for their deal and he may have to relinquish more than he’d planned. What is the Norn scheming, and what consequences will Killian face for the decisions he makes?

Fic links to be added upon posting; check original post for updates

EEP! Alma’s fic is so amazing you guys omg, I can’t wait for everyone to get to read it! You don’t have to be familiar with the Lost Girl episode to read and follow the story (I wasn’t). It’s so interesting and suspenseful and I’m so excited to see what happens next!

#cssns #cssns20 #cssns2020 #captain swan #cs art #cs edit #cs aesthetic #teamhook #wolf!killian #cs au #cs ff #cs fic rec #cs aesthetics #captain swan supernatural summer #cssns 2020 #the wolf and the savior #kayla's aesthetics #kayla's cs aesthetics

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courtorderedcake · 4 years

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Majestically Too Far Beyond : CSSNS 2020

It’s finally here! Yaaaay! Here’s my @cssns for 2020, Majestically Too Far Beyond, title based on the Poem written by Komal Kapoor. You can read my explanation of how this mess all got started Here. Art is by @kmomof4 and I threw in some too for fun.

Summary : Emma Swan has never been that type of girl, you know, the one that cries and sinks into a pint of ice cream after a break-up. She's never ever cared about anyone other than completely out of survival, but then came Neal, and then came the final big break up with someone maybe she sort of kind of loved. So now she is one of those girls who are homeless, living with her adopted brother and his wife at their farm in a long abandoned Victorian keeper's home, desperately trying to save to get her own place while working her difficult government job and as a merc witch on the side. When a desperate Witch calls on her to do a spell, it's all bad news - but then said Witch revealed a mountain of gold coins, and whimpered that Emma is her only hope. How can she not be a bad ass magic savior for this poor soul? All seems to be well, until the consequences are suddenly very real. Killian may be a Demon, a fallen Angel that now delights in the practice of revenge, but first and foremost he's a gentleman. Sort of. Especially when his ruddy Angel brother is focused on bureaucracy and keeping mankind out of chaos, while Killian barely keeps his denizens as safe as he can in a world that wants Demons dead. Witches and Warlocks use them for parts, Werewolves see them as a threat, Angels mostly still hold on to the ancient feud regardless of their treatise, Fae stay chaotic neutral, Vampires don't care for others affairs - it's a perilous world where hate crimes happen without consequence. When Killian goes above to plead for more safety laws in the metropolis of Hyperion Hills, the city that lies over a major portal to hell, he does not expect to meet a council that the elemental five sit on. He especially doesn't expect that the council would ever take him seriously in his campaign for demon safety. Regina, Snow, Ariel, Elsa, and Belle seem dead set on making it their pet project - each for their own very different reasons. Especially when they bring up hiring a tempestuous security consultant, Emma Swan. When they adjourn, he can say that he is optimistically apprehensive. An optimistic Demon never leads to good things, unless by good things you mean throwing back rum while chasing a pretty woman for plundering. He's unsure of what to expect when challenged to do shot for shot by a mysterious blonde Witch, who didn't care who (or what) he is, but he does like a challenge. Too much in fact, the challenge raising the stakes, because from there on it becomes a blur, and yeah, he's bloody well in it now. The idea of a contract sounds fantastic when they stumbled into the strange tower, half naked and wanting. It's the ritual she does instead that he should have been paying attention to. So, maybe now he's missing a hand, and has only the vaguest idea of what happened from the mess of blood he's woken up to, his and someone else's, a mirror's accursed magic the only thing to tell him what took place: he's a prisoner until someone lets him free… And a woman that he’s positive did not exist in his life yesterday, who just happens to not only be a Witch but a complete stranger, is pregnant with his child.

Rated E, but really falls in at more of a M. Fluffy angst with some adult themes and hinted undertones. READ ON AO3 HERE.

Chapter 1 - Long ago, eclipses were feared as well:

To say that the Jones 'Brothers' had been fighting since time began, was not an understatement, but also not exactly truthful. They had actually been fighting before recorded time, and before there was even a concept of the perception of anything besides the aether or eternity.

That's why he'd fallen, actually. Loss was a powerful motivation, enough even to question the utmost Authority - and the Authority despised questioning. Fighting was in the nature of the divine Celestials, as it seemed, and in Her infinite curiosity that She defined as 'Wisdom', God had let Lucifer burn too brightly. Their war was a lover's jealous quarrel turned violent.

Although Liam was created moments before Killian, they were brothers (as it were) even amongst a host of angels, and they were close regardless of their stubborn spats. They fought over the world and its workings, Liam given a flaming sword while Killian was given books. They fought over knowledge of the divine arts, arguing whether humans were worthy of the Arcane. They fought over Killian's love of a mortal woman, and his questioning of commandments.

They fought over Killian standing behind Lucifer, and Liam fought Killian right before he fell. In some ways, it was Liam's own hand that pushed Killian, but in his last angelic act, Killian forgave his brother.

While Earthborne and some remnant Angels believed Demons were not capable of love, they were of course wrong. Demons loved, lost, and forgave just as any others. Even after the schism, even after years of passive aggressive pettiness between both sides, Demons were still seen as wayward, dark, demented creatures. Angels had done little to fight this stereotype, instead reveling in their continued status as goodwill ambassadors.

Even their name amongst mortals was a cosmic joke, the Creator and her lover-made-antagonist too long gone to bother with proper names. They were Angels or Demons to some cultures as humans grew on God's abandoned project, while others called them by their new names.

The Angel Diana was called a Goddess alongside Hecate, Freya, Gabriel, Uriel, and many others. The Demons Zeus, Odin, Loki, Hades, and Poseidon happily took on roles that suited their carnal needs. Angels mixed with mortals along with Demons, God's secret seeds of elemental magics taking life along beside them as Druids, Fae, and Elementals. Some of the Celestials even birthed life as their lost parents had, Demons begetting Demons, Angels begetting Angels, and everything or anything in between.

Humans gained magical prowess as the world changed, Witches, Druids, Warlocks, Mortismals, and Mesmerels becoming the norm for human bloodlines.

Still, Demons were given less, all because God had cursed them irrevocably before disappearing with Lucifer into the abyss. They were cellularly different now than any of the Angels they had once been, a yoke around their neck that they could be forced to obey. Like Angels, they could be worshipped, called, trapped, or contracted even as their powers and bodies twisted into the curse stained strangeness God graced them with. They were looked on with disgust, pity, horror, and anger for it despite their best attempts.

Which was why his sodding Ponce of a brother working as an Angel ambassador for a Prince of Hell was so important - and so bloody frustrating.

It wasn't as if being a Prince of Hell wasn't stressful enough - his people always under siege or afraid of some Witch summoning them to place a brand, then using them as a charcuterie board - no. It was that his brother was a baked potato when it came to convincing the public they were not what millennia of ingrained hatred had established Demons as.

Bosch had died before Killian could uppercut him, regardless of his depiction of Liam as a trumpeting ferret bird or the even less flattering version of Killian. Dante had been another great PR stunt his brother had botched miserably. The Rings of Hell weren't even used, Lucifer gone before he could put God's plans for punishment into place. Now as a museum and reenactment park, it was a popular attraction that helped generate funds for the denizens that lived in the spacial plane that surrounded it, but Dante's review had been swayed by Liam taking him into The Kingdom right after. How could Hell ever live up to the paradise God herself had planned for humans? Only Cedar Point, Busch Gardens, Disney, or Universal Studios could come close as far as themed parks. It was a complete disaster.

This newest idea of Killian sitting on the board of Hyperion Heights to work with the world's premier intersectional coven, 'StoryBrooke', was another terrible idea in the making, and Killian had no qualms letting his brother know it.

"This is absolutely ridiculous Liam," Killian gritted out, itching under the glamor that made him look mortal. Being confined in a skin suit had his molecules vibrating so loudly he could hear his canines, starlight and cosmic fire sending pinpricks of goose flesh down the dark hairs of his arms and legs. Wearing this was torture enough without Liam staring at him in disdain, his own heavenly image unblemished. Even his halo was a polished gold around his fat head. "While I am a dashing rapscallion in my original skin, don't you think it's bad form for them to see me like this instead of how I actually look? Isn't the point of this to show that even if we're not as pretty as your lot, we're still beings that deserve respect?"

Liam grunted, rolling his eyes. Blue fire from explosions of stars and galaxies lit in mirrors of Killian's own, but framed by rosy cheeks and tawny curls instead of moving shadow, a ghoulish pallor, and dark hair the color of ink or raven's feather. The Angelic glamor contained the haze of darkness that moved like smoke around him, the length of his fingers and claws, and made his flesh look pale but not tinted the color of the universe's light. It did not hide his horns (remnants of shattered halo) or his twitching tail if someone chose to leave eyes on him too long, but that was another Demonic burden to bear.

"First impressions, little brother. Even the most progressive Witch is still a Witch. I'd rather them see you like this instead of wondering if you truly need all your giblets."

Killian swallowed hard, nodding once before grumbling, "Younger brother. Younger."

"Go over your notes again. You'll need to be your nauseatingly charming self for this, especially if they bring the males in their midst," Liam asked of him, and Killian looked out the dark windows of the car as his tail moved in agitation.

"Regina. Head of the Coven, Witch and Mortismal that inherited her throne from her mother. Began the integration method and broke away from the Misthaven Coven to create the StoryBrooke one," Killian intoned.

"Right. She's a tough nut too, and her ghosts do the most of her dirty work. She's not someone to cross unless you want your chairs stacked to the ceiling every morning by some bloody poltergeist."

"Aw, well, I'm unfortunately haunted by you already, I doubt a poltergeist could do more damage." Killian slanted a look at his brother, who gave an annoyed huff as his pure white feathers ruffled. Killian was thankful in part that he did not have wings at all times, even if the trade off was painful. "While Regina is the head of the Coven, the head of the Council is Elsa Frost of the Frost twins. She's a direct descendant of the Giant Ice Sorceresses with powerful magic, but her passion is creating legislation for Hyperion Heights. Her sister Anna is the family's public relations face, and runs their fashion empire, Arendelle Designs with her Druid husband."

"Good. Good, tell me about Ariel Poisson."

"Siren and Mermaid, with four years on the council. Made history as the first water Elemental to sit on the council, beating the long seated Witch, Ursula, by a large margin. Opponents argue that her father's position as King of the seas and his dominion over fair weather and fishing made voters nervous to not cast ballots for her. Her campaign slogan was 'Part of your World', which could be beneficial to my campaign."

"Right. Snow Blanchard?"

"Would-be heir to the Misthaven Coven who ended its elitist reign by breaking tradition and leaving, sending them into chaos." Killian smirked. "She sounds like someone who I could get along with."

"She gets along with everyone except her family, which is more than normal it would seem," Liam replied back, and Killian snorted out a chuckle.

"Druid, Elf, and Green Witch. Runs a high profile herbal apothecary chain Enchanted Forest Supplies, focused on holistic medicinals, herbs, and spices. Nolan Farms is a subsidiary that sells produce to the Heights, which is her husband's 'pet' project."

"Watch yourself, brother," Liam warned. "While you might get away with that if it's just the Witches, if David and Ruby sit in today you'll find that will not stand."

"Ah, yes. Ruby Reddings and David 'Charming' Nolan. You only circled that they are Werewolves in red ink everywhere you could. David is Snow's husband, and her lead farm hand. Ruby is Snow's cousin who introduced the two. Ruby is currently in a high profile relationship with your colleague, Inspector Wolfe, and they both are very active in pack politics. Many are betting they will create their own pack if the current Alphas do not abandon some of the more ancient doctrines. Nothing new there."

"Don't forget Livre and Fa."

"Belle Livre, Witch turned Vampire, runs a community literacy foundation and bookstore chain. Known ally to Demon rights. Soft spoken but brutally intelligent. Introduced a synthetic blood that allows for daytime living via plant cells collaborating with Enchanted Forest, which made history 6 years ago," Killian listed. "Mulan Fa, Vampire. Cultural Development head of the Heights, and curator of The Hyperion Heights Museum of Art, History, Science, and Culture. Teaches part time at Hyperion Heights University as an adjunct professor. Fa is married to a Fae Elf, Merida Ursa."

"Good. That's as far as we know besides the whole Swan fiasco, which is not to be brought up."

"What Swan fiasco?"

"Oh, little brother. If you had done your research outside of the profiles I gave you, you would know all about the criminal history of the black and heartless sheep within the Misthaven and StoryBrooke covens. It's better off that you don't know."

"Er. Well. Alright. I didn't look into them because I don't bloody well care about their lots as long as we get protection. There was another slaying this weekend. A Lower Demon."

"I'm aware. Did you know her?"

"Not really, but that's not enough either. I owe my people more. The other Lords of Hell are fine telling Demons to stay below and never use their name, which is fine for the new blood. It's the old, the weak, and the abused that are at risk."

"Careful, Killian. Your lust for vengeance will never be welcomed by mortals."

"I'm well aware Liam. They like my kind for an entirely different kind of lust."

"Could you please not." Liam sighed, sitting back against the seat. After a moment, his brother spoke quietly. "There was another attack as well, this time in broad daylight in Camelot Town. The Anti-Integration Movement has claimed responsibility."

"Of bloody course they have!" Killian hissed, clenching his fists. He pinched the bridge of his nose, grimacing. "Brilliant. Just absolutely marvelous -"

"They were going to run a story in the Times. I managed to block it for now, but we need a sympathetic writer on the inside, or we risk them running another story with their bias."

"I have a guy. I'll reach out, he's an old school Warlock who I've worked with in the past on push back. What's their excuse this time?"

"They said that the Succubus was, quote, 'asking for it by the way she was dressed'."

Nausea rose in Killian's throat, and he swallowed it down with bitter practice. "I wasn't aware that how someone dressed meant their lives were not only void, but taking pieces of them was fine as well."

"We know they're being funded well, and we will get arrests as soon as possible. This won't be forever, Killian."

"That's easy for you to promise when this has been my - our forever." Killian bit out, glaring at his feet.

The car came to a stop, the driver opening the door to let them out. Killian moved briskly up the steps of the council building, as Liam followed behind. They moved through the lobby with an easy flash of Liam's ID that Killian scoffed at, moving into the elevator.

"After that display, I'm going drinking after this," Killian gritted through his teeth.

Liam blinked, straightening his tie in the door's polished reflection. "What display? They were nice."

"Exactly. If I came here alone, I would have been in that security line for an hour."

Liam rolled his eyes, taking down his halo to polish the golden ring. "You absolutely exaggerate how you're treated. Not everyone is out to get you, especially when you look like this. Give others a break."

"I'll give myself a break after this with as much rum as I can safely consume, instead."

The doors pinged open to reveal a small atrium, dark wood flooring in stark contrast to the birch tree covered walls. A secretary stood behind a rounded desk against the far wall, motioning for them to sit.

"They'll be with you in a moment," she offered, glancing at them with a thin smile. Killian could practically taste her distrust as he scratched behind his ear. Liam swatted at him lightly in a bid to get him to stop, both of them tense when the doors finally opened to reveal a petite woman dressed in a powder blue skirt and blazer.

"Come in gentleman. The council will see you now." She smiled icily. His brother stood, his feathers slightly puffed in an indication of his own nervousness.

Killian followed a second later, walking with them as they made forced, but pleasant conversation all the way into the boardroom.

Women sat at a long table that curved slightly, facing their own small table similar to a courtroom. He was reminded of the tribunals in the old days when law had begun, but the courtiers were far different than the strange group of women scrutinizing them.

To his surprise, the majority of them seemed actually curious instead of repulsed or bored.

"The council recognizes Liam Jones and Killian… Jones. These are your chosen surnames, correct? And you identify as… brothers?"

"Yes," Liam stated firmly with a curt nod. Killian watched from his peripheral as his shoulder muscles twitched, his wings held stiffly upright to keep them from the floor.

Killian nodded, careful to keep his tail curled around his legs. The skin suit itched as it clung to him, not abated by his attempt to sit more casually.

"Interesting," remarked the dark haired witch at the far right. A nameplate sat in front of her, marking her as Regina. He wondered idly if her stare was due to the blood on his hands only an eternal existence could bring.

"You are here to ask for help in creating safety measures and a potential council commitment to Demon rights, correct?" Ariel, a fiery haired lass with a heart face, asked.

"Our major point of concern is the influx of hate groups that seem to fall in line with smuggling operations and planned violence," Killian said slowly. Attention snapped to him, and he brought up the slide presentation he had prepared. "We have had some luck stopping shipments and arresting bit players, but we can't find the heads of these operations."

"You can't find them, or you are barred from digging deeper?" Mulan asked, and he chuckled darkly.

"The latter, I'm afraid. We have consistently come to the same dead end again and again. I'm sure I don't have to explain to you ladies how difficult a foe powerful covens behind corporate entities are." He let a grimace creep onto his face, and saw the majority of the women nod in acknowledgement.

"This could make many enemies for us, if approached in the wrong way." Belle stated quietly. "Specifically with our good friends in the Storybrooke Coven."

Snow nodded, exchanging a bitter look with her. "We may need a professional from our coven, but she's unable to get clearance without special notation."

"Oh? Who is this?" Liam asked.

Elsa and the rest of the coven smiled in varying degrees of fondness. "The best in the business, and in my Coven. If you need to find someone, Emma Swan can always find them, and she's good at criminal magical activities. She knows the system, knows how and where to hide, and where to seek."

They'd found what the coven wanted, and their stake in the venture. Killian caught Liam's face falling, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"You can't be serious. Involving Swan in this after -"

"That was all a misunderstanding, and was blown completely out of proportion. We have long held up our end of the blame and accountability, while Misthaven has shirked theirs in the name of slandering her." Elsa steepled her fingers. "If you desire the best, which I assume is why you are here, you need to rehab not only Demons’ image, but hers as well. She should be sitting here with us."

Liam tried in vain to tip the scale back in their favor, his face going red. "We'll consider this as part of our negotiations."

"Negotiations? Liam, you are a detective. You should have deduced by now that you have no leverage. You have only decisions to make." Regina closed her planner, regarding them with her dark gaze. "So, make them quickly, before our patience wanes."

Killian bit back a laugh at Liam’s sudden blustered stuttering. These witches were good, and as the meeting ran on for hours he realized just how much liquor he would need to recover.

"Well that went well."

Liam’s sour expression and slumped shoulders were just visible in his peripheral, even as his feathers were still quite literally ruffled. He huffed out a noise of disapproval, too vexed to even reply back.

"Aye to that, brother." Licking his lips, they stepped into the cool dusk air. "I'm going for that drink, are you…?" Killian glanced at Liam, who shook his head with annoyance.

"Seriously? You really -"

"Really shouldn't what Liam?" Killian smiled, venom leaking into his tone. "Go get drunk in a town that would rather pretend I don't exist or sell me in a fine powder to the nearest bidder? I think I'll be okay, although the concern is duly noted."

He turned on his heel, his glamor falling away in a puff of smoke. The air hit his itchy, overheated skin, his tail whipping around in sharp, agitated flicks.

"Take care of yourself, little brother! No need to be a self destructive bastard. We lost a battle, not the war!" Liam called after him, stepping into his sleek car. Killian snorted.

Hailing a cab with some difficulty, the driver asked where he was headed with the same slight resignation he was used to for his kind.

"A bar, Demon friendly please. Some place without swill."

The driver nodded, dropping him at a dimly lit corner of the city. A red neon sign spread crimson light along the sidewalk, soft light also spilling out the doors accompanied by loud guitar. Looking up, the looping, swirled lettering made him smirk. 'The Jealous Flask' was as good a place as any in his neck of the underworld woods.

The inside was smoky, deep red damask wallpaper paired with dark, pitch stained wood panels, booths, and bartop. The liquor selection was displayed neatly, unlike the few early patrons sitting scattered around. The jukebox played warbly rock music, some punchy chords and an easy to memorize refrain.

'one two three four, can I have a little more, five six seven eight nine ten, I love you'

The bar stools were empty, and Killian slung himself onto one, the bartender nodding his head by way of a greeting.

"Rum, neat," Killian stated, pointing to his preferred vice. The bartender did not stop polishing the glass in his hand, but the bottle floated down gently, pouring itself into a tumbler before the glass set itself down in front of Killian. "Thanks, mate."

The bartender nodded again, continuing his work with the aid of his magic. People began to trickle in as the time ticked forward, a witch or two eyeing him suspiciously, vampires playing pool in the front, a group of young werewolves forcing change into the jukebox to get edgier music playing through the speaker system. The Clash crooned out words against the Fae Queen ruling over greater Eld, the pack jumping around excitedly and thrashing their heads back and forth. By this time Killian had moved to the far curve of the bar, his glass refilled to the point of the bottle sitting next to him like a patient date. There were still no other Demons in his presence. It shouldn't have surprised him, shouldn't have even made him angry with the amount of violence they were privy to, but he burned away the emotions with the alcohol flowing down his throat.

A soft touch on his shoulder caught his attention, and he turned with a growl. It died in his throat when large eyes met his, blonde curls falling in front of her eyes in loose tendrils.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bother you," she stammered, biting her lip. Pointing to a drink that was clearly not his, umbrella and all, she continued. "I was trying to reach my drink. It’s gotten crowded and I thought, I mean, I am sorry I wasn't trying to -"

"Aye." He nodded, throwing back his drink. "S'alright lass. I'm sorry, I s'pose I'm just a bit out of place here."

She smiled, blushing. "Yeah, I uh, I get that. I haven't seen you around before."

"First time here. I was in the neighborhood for business." He poured himself more, and to his surprise she pushed and elbowed her way to sit next to him.

"Business?" Her eyes were curious while her fingers toyed with the umbrella in her drink. "Should I be concerned?"

It was clearly teasing, and Killian felt himself loosening up around her. She seemed to read him well, or at least the alcohol was working. "Not any of the good kind, I'm afraid." He grinned with a wink.

"Ah, so we're just ships passing in the night?" She leaned in and he could smell the floral and herbal scent of her, her eyelashes batting coquettishly as she sipped her drink in his space.

"Passing closely, I hope," he murmured. His heart raced; it had been ages since any mortal had shown interest in him that was mutual.

His head spun as she met him drink for drink, hand unsubtly creeping higher up his hip.

"Would you be opposed to… Maybe, I don't know… getting out of here?"

"Are you saying you would fancy a nightcap, lass?" She smiled from under her lashes while biting her lip, and his heated blood grew hotter.

"Perhaps." She stood with grace as she extended a hand to him. "My place is a quick and easy teleportation spell away from here, and my bed doesn't require any sort of magic outside of what I can do with my tongue."

Killian hesitated, her golden hair in the glow of the lights making her seem to shimmer. "I don't even know your name -"

"Eloise. It's Eloise." She pulled him up, letting him stumble into her body. Her lips met his, and soon he was pulling her closer as their mouths slanted across one another's in hunger. She bit his lip and he felt the tightness that had bloomed in his belly spread fire down his spine.

"Lead the way, love," he whispered huskily, grinding into her.

She smiled broadly, the world shifting until he was in her dimly lit home. A lone window twinkled starlight, moon huge outside as it hung in the sky. Her tongue slid past his lips, the bitter herbal taste overwhelming while the world shifted again, this time pulling him apart.

In a perfect world, Emma Swan would not be doing anything remotely close to what she was currently debating doing. It truly wasn't her fault; it fell on Neal and his stupid family if anyone was to blame, and his stupid coven with their stupid leader. She should have known back then it had been a set up, should have known that Neal was a fucking liar. How many times did the same drawn out plot have to play out? Apparently, too many, considering she had still warmed his bed until a week ago.

This time it was final. Emma wouldn't accept him back when Neal slithered out from under the rock he had his affair in. She wouldn't be charmed by his smooth talking silver tongue, and if he so much as breathed near her, she would take another five years for breaking his smarmy Fae nose. Final. It had to be final.

But finality meant certain conditions had to be met, especially if she was to ward him away. For one, the beautiful loft that belonged to Neal in the Heights downtown could definitely not be her base of operations any more. Neither could the various in between places she found where Emma could grieve until he took her back, damaged goods and all. No more hotel rooms, no more abandoned apartments, no more warehouses, vacation rentals, or quiet empty offices. She had to get her own place, and it had to be able to handle her particularly finicky magic. Neal's place wasn't great for her particular practice, but the view had been killer enough to ignore it. Neal's fortune had meant she didn't need to work, and with her record (or, as his coven would sneer, 'notoriety') that was just as well.

Working added a wrinkle to her life; she would have to find somewhere that allowed her enough space for her magic to keep her employed. That would require a hefty chunk of gold - if she was lucky. The prices in the downtown area were steep, only high profile Witches, Warlocks, Fae, and Celestials could afford accommodation that close to the capitol buildings and Ley Lines. Initially when Emma had glanced through the apartment listings on the bulletin board, she had almost had a panic attack at the amount of gold they demanded.

Her brother David, blessings be, had been her knight in shining armor. There was a large Victorian home that lay in shambles at the edge of their farm lands, its beautiful scalloped details in need of paint, and the gutters growing weeds as thick as her forearm. But, it was within her budget if she could get the down payment placed before the scheduled demolition. She put what she had down to stall as much as she could, but it was not enough in the least.

One big job was all she needed. One big job that she could cash out on. A dip of her toes back into the waters of peddling illegal magic, just quickly in and out without a splash.

She didn't need any more jail time, that was for certain.

Putting out the word she was available in the whisper market was always dangerous, but listening in was free and without a snag if you were smart.

Emma heard tell of a desperate woman willing to give a truckload full of gold to the right Witch who could perform delicate, esoteric, deeply Arcane and forbidden magics. Luckily for both of them, that's what Emma excelled at.

She had always been good at her craft, and her magical workings were beyond powerful. She could do things that other practitioners only dared to dream of, if they could even conceive it. It was why Neal had kept her around, and why his coven's dislike would melt away if she said she would consider joining.

(If she did that around Yulesmas for better gifts, was it really so bad?)

The request itself was intriguing, the woman herself a Witch that could not do the spell alone. She wanted an equivalent exchange of unbreakable magical bonds, which while tricky, was not forbidden in most circumstances. The offer was too good to pass up on, but Emma didn't like leaving things to complete chance.

Cue her sister-in-law, Snow. If anyone could throw runes, read the winds, divine from the mundane, and not keep any of it a fucking secret, it was Snow.

Emma knocked on their cheery red door in the early morning, which must have been a surprise to Snow considering she was half dressed in business wear. She pulled up her stockings in a one footed hop, motioning for Emma to come in as she balanced the phone receiver against her neck. The coiled cord spun around her, and she groaned loudly.

"Yes, Regina, I know. I'll be there, I'm literally - it's 2 hours away. I will be there in thirty minutes at latest, but - Well, yes, Emma just walked in." Snow gestured at a chair, and Emma sat, looking at her with an eyebrow raised. "Yes, I know it's early for her. I know. Uh huh. Yes. We will definitely put her on the table; it's absurd not to, considering - yes, I would love to talk to you about this in person as I've said - alright. Yes. Okay then, buh-bye."

Sighing, Snow twirled, untwisting herself from the phone cord. She smoothed down her pencil skirt and blouse before looking straight at Emma with a curious stare. Her mouth twitched with annoyance as she spoke.

"Now. To what do I owe the pleasure? I have a meeting with Celestials shortly, so." She waved a hand indicating the clock in the background. Turning to the counter, she opened up a cookie jar and removed a rolled cannabis cigarette, putting it between her lips and lighting it.

Emma swallowed, watching the petite woman slide the purple lighter back in its space on their counter. "I just need you to divine something for me. A situation, with a woman who wants me to… to uh, do something."

Snow rolled her eyes, narrowing them to glare at Emma. "We are bringing you up as collateral in our meeting today, trying to get you a seat where you belong - on the council," Snow hissed. She pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a breath.

"Please?" Emma asked innocently, batting her eyelashes for good measure.

Snow sighed. "Alright. Picture the situation and the woman."

Emma focused on the description, the spellwork requested, the woman's pleas. She could feel Snow's magic engulf her, and the fuzziness that came with it as she wove threads out into the natural universe, time and space sending her back answers.

A moment passed, and the feeling abruptly stopped as Snow shook her head.

"This doesn't feel right," Snow said, taking a drag of her blunt. She exhaled, the thick smoke swirling into the shape of birds that dove through the air. Emma coughed, waving a hand in front of her face. "That woman… I don't know. She feels off."

Emma frowned, petulant that the answer was negative. "She's a Witch, and in trouble."

"Have you rolled your runes?" Snow began to pull on her loafers, gathering her things.

Emma chewed her lip. She had divined, or tried to, but had not found a concrete result. "Yeah, and they said it's… Questionable, but the end result leaves all parties happy. Tarot said basically the same thing."

Snow let out a little twittering laugh, pulling her purse up on her shoulder. "And how does Neal feel about it?"

"Neal doesn't need to feel any way about it. I… We… I broke it off." Emma looked at her shoes, then idly inspected the counters formica. "Forever this time."

"Oh. Is that why you're here so early?" Snow's eyes went wide, a hand covering her mouth. "Oh, Emma, honey. I'm so sorry, I've just been under so much stress with Regina and this council. Wait, where are you staying? Oh no - are you homeless!? You mean it, you're never going back to that creep?"

"Never," Emma said firmly, even as her voice caught. "I'll find a place though, Snow. Don't worry."

"So you are homeless, oh Emma, if I wasn't late - no. No. You know, I'll call Regina and cancel it, you need me more than -"

"No, well, I mean -" Emma shook her head. "No. I'll stay here tonight if I have to, but you need to get to your meeting. I don't need Regina's wrath on top of everything else."

"You know you can stay here with us as long as you need, oh, Emma, I wish you had told me -"

"I don't want to stay here. I can't work here, and I love you guys but you both are gross with your lovey dovey hippie -"

"I get it, I get it." Snow grimaced.

"So yeah, I need the money. I can't stay here, I need my own place… I put a tiny deposit on that Victorian down the road, but I need the full down payment to keep it." Emma shrugged.

"The house at the --- Emma, that place is a breeze away from being condemned!"

"No it's not," Emma groaned, rubbing her temple. "It's got good bones, and character. It just needs some… help."

"Well. I mean…" Snow hesitated, heading towards the door, as Emma followed. "Alright then. I'm just warning you, I get a terrible vibe from that woman and I could cancel this today, we could work out a plan. We have the money from the harvest. You could work for us or with David and help us with the roll outs in exchange for a loan. I'm organized, but the help would be appreciated if you're living so close… especially since I'm making sure that house is safely remodeled for you. I don't want you to end up with the roof falling on you or some gas line exploding."

"You worry way too much, Snow."

"I hear the future through nature, and it's generally terrifying. Nature is terrifying. Excuse me for being cautious, and wanting to help you out."

Emma laughed as they walked out the door together, Snow rummaging in her bag for lipstick which she quickly applied. "Yeah well, you're also smoking weed so potent it could put an elephant to sleep. I don't want a loan from you."

"I'm not an elephant, Em. I'm an Elf. It'll take more than this to knock me on my ass." She smiled, extending a hand to squeeze Emma's shoulder. "Be careful, okay? No repeats."

"That wasn't -" Emma protested, but Snow cut her off with a sharp look. "Yeah, alright.

"Good. I'll see you tonight, you're coming for dinner. No buts." Snow grinned, before disappearing with a puff of periwinkle smoke.

Emma groaned, kicking dirt as she stalked away towards her new potential home.

In the final days before moving from the small basement apartment Emma rented, the dingy, unused, bare studio finally found some decoration in chalk outlines, herbs, and a large bubbling cauldron. It hadn't ever been a home or remotely close to one when Neal presented a better option, the bed untouched and unmade. It reminded Emma more of her prison cell than anything else, which offered a strange duality of comfort mixed with dread. It was fitting that she would meet to do this ritual here.

Gothel arrived promptly for their 10 am arranged meeting in a well worn taupe cloak. She looked as desperate as the correspondences between them indicated, but Emma resolved to get this over with as quickly as possible. They shared a nod in the form of hellos, then Emma pointed to the cauldron.

"Let's begin, shall we?" Emma asked, and Gothel drew back her cloak to reveal her tired and gaunt looking face.

"Yes. Let's. Your payment, with more upon completion." Gothel dropped a large purse on the counter, Emma immediately grabbing it and checking the contents. It was real, her heart soaring as she shoved it in her bag.

"So, you are to give me a token of your will, usually blood, an animal you raised, or something that's valuable to you . Something you care about, that you are tied to that a severing will make you -"

"I give you the life of my first child," Gothel interrupted.

Emma's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh." Biting her lip, she brushed back her braid. "That's… That's super Illegal. I…"

"You wanted something heavy, you got it. There's a reason why I came to you; you have a reputation for doing things quietly. The reason you chose me is because you need the coin. Now, my terms. I know you provide healing. I want to keep myself young and strong - youthful immortality. Grant me this." The grin on her face unsettled Emma, Snow's warning in her mind. Nevertheless, the satchel of gold meant a secured home.

"Um. Alright. Are you sure, the life of your firstborn? That's a ways off, and the strength won't happen until -"

"Do it. Do it now, I know the spell will be enacted when payment is due. I'm well studied - Breaking a bond with a child, specifically your first, will grant me the power I need. I know that I can't do this spell myself either, so here I am."

Emma gulped. "Okay. Let me get the texts."

Emma returned with her copper cauldron, pile of books, and spell components. Gothel's grin grew wider, her eyes gleaming at the sight of the tongues, eyes, crushed butterflies, and other more macabre ingredients the spell required.

Feeling a low tug in her gut that something was wrong, Emma backed away from the altar. The other Witch seemed to shimmer, slightly in alarm, a glamor of some sort possibly covering her skin. Feeling even more unsettled, Emma shook her head.

"I can't do this, listen -"

"Please. Please you must, I need this to escape a curse. It's blood magic, almost unbreakable and impossible to escape on my own. Please." Emma heard no lies in her speech. "I admit that I have not been entirely truthful. While I was able to send you the gold easily, I am trapped, held against my will. I can only project myself to you. I was afraid to tell you, because I am desperate to rid myself of this curse." When no lies continued to register, Emma felt a deep sense of pity for the other witch. A blood magic binding was no joke; someone truly must have hated the poor woman.

"Fine," Emma said, throwing her hands up. Gothel perked up slightly, hope in her eyes. Throwing the ingredients in the cauldron, a shimmering mist roiled over the edge as she spoke ancient words and stirred in the shape of long unused runes. Adding bones that melted in soapy bubbles and stirring with a long Pegasus feather that gradually turned to ash, she looked up at Gothel, who was wringing her hands anxiously.

"Your tokens?" Emma asked.

Gothel waved a hand over the stained cloth; several of the woman's teeth, a long braid of her hair, and a large chunk of skin fell into the cauldron. The cauldron's contents began to boil, smoke curling in darkened serpentine tangles.

Emma began the words, Latin, Arameric, the old tongue of the Pagans, Celtic, remnants of Gaul, flowing them together until speaking plainly to her own magic.

"Blood of one that is two, child, mother,

Blood of my own, tear them asunder,

Thicker than wine, thicker than water,

Ties that bind, bound to another,

The womb that grows life,

Kin cared for in kind,

A payment for power,

Remake the ties, lift, and unbind."

Scraping her hand against a dagger, Emma let her blood drop slowly into the brew, the words flowing out in the crimson rivulets. As she pulled away the wound closed from her own healing energy.

"Cradle of moon within flesh,

Remake that which is to be made,

Your reflection removed,

Mine in its stead.

Your burden is mine,

Carried and held as your first,

Blood of the two, child, mother,

As they are born, you are cursed."

She looked at Gothel, who was still wringing her hands, long nails cutting into her palms. This magic was hopefully worth the price the woman had so freely paid. Breaking an infant and mother's bond to give to another was a great sacrifice, the magic comparable to true love, if not greater. The power the Witch would receive would hopefully free her from the curse, but also give her the strength she desired.

"It's done. You must cast your brand over the cauldron, and when you, you know," Emma turned around, holding herself tightly. Caught up in the thought of what she, Emma Swan, would even do with a child, she was unaware of the other Witch behind her scrambling to the cauldron or her deep disregard for anything she was saying. "Get pregnant, let me know. I'll handle that - Wait, what are you -"

Gothel chuckled lowly, her brand in its arcane circle around the cauldron, neon lines of electricity like power that sparked and crackled. Emma felt her hair stand on end, small pebbles lifting off the stone floor as the cauldron shook. Smoke rose in heavy plumes, purple and a noxious mauve that made the air feel sticky, her lungs not able to fill all the way. Gothel's chuckle had turned into a wild cackle, her braided and matted hair like vines or a visage of Medusa.

Gothel's voice was crazed, shrill as she pointed a gnarled finger at Emma. "This is it. This is it! I've done it, I'm free! Oh, you silly, stupid girl. Now nothing will ever stop me again!"

Her laugh grew into a shriek of triumph as magic swirled around them, Emma watching as the woman in front of her disappeared. Gaping at what happened, Emma checked herself for any signs of curses or hexes, unsure of what had just taken place.

To her surprise, no sign of magic lay on her that she could see. She wasn't cursed, the room wasn't jinxed, and the second payment… Emma quickly checked her purse, finding the large satchel of gold easily. The second sat where Gothel had discarded it without looking twice, and she picked it up hesitantly. It was heavy in her hands as she checked it again and again, realizing that for once in her life, everything was going right.

Three hours later, she owned the Victorian home down the road from her brother's farm, the first home she had ever truly called hers.

Living near her brother's home had its perks, and disadvantages, as Snow had hinted. For one, Snow was cooking for her every day, and Emma was positive she was going to gain several dress sizes if she didn't stop gorging on various pasta dishes while pouring her magic into restoring the wooden floor.

A major downside was having her brother constantly fixing her house without her being aware. She'd been woken by him cleaning the gutters, fixing her porch, and of all things, roofing. It had only been a few days, but between his insistence on the outside being presentable and her own work inside, the house was coming along faster than she ever dreamed. It was frightening, and David kept her on edge with his very obvious attempts at snooping around.

"So, you're done with Neal for good," he said, startling her as she sat out on a newly hung porch swing. She wrinkled her nose at him in protest, and he grinned. "And… You're making doors again."

She froze, panic gripping her.

"It's alright, I'm not mad. I'm just - just be careful. I trust you, but I know that before -"

"I made a mistake. I know it, you know it, the Coven knows it, and so does everyone else in the Heights that saw me fall from grace." Emma curled her arms around her knees, bitterly forcing out words. "I won't make the same mistake again. I am on the straight and narrow; these doors are for commuting and hunting skips only."

David laughed, poking her in the side. "Back to hunting skips, huh? Damn. Don't you ever settle down and enjoy the simple life?"

Emma laughed, shaking her head. "What the hell is the simple life? Nothing is simple."

"Well, yeah, but… I mean the simple life." He brushed a hand through his hair, looking at her with a gentleness that she instantly felt uneasy with. "House, a pet maybe, hobbies, a partner, kids -"

"If you are trying to set me up again -"

"Not me," David raised his hands defensively. "No, I was just -"

"I don't deserve that life," Emma stated, shrugging. The sun was sinking lower, crickets singing in the cool air. "That life isn't for me. That life is for people like you and Snow, people that are worth something."

"Oh, Emma. You know that's not -"

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Emma snapped, standing with a start. David looked at her with a hurt expression, and she felt pure rage. "Goodnight."

She stepped back into the house, letting the screen door slam shut behind her.

"Emma, come on," David called from the porch, but Emma wasn't listening to him as she fought the immediate urge to be ill. The sudden nausea ripped through her, and despite her attempts, vomit burst from her throat.

She panted, holding on to the wall with one hand. The other hand gripped her side, fierce cramping making her double over in a scream of agony. She lurched forward, unable to breathe as pressure rose in her stomach. To her terror, her skin grew taut and she seemed to bloat, the pain of it ripping through her.

David splintered the door, his arms around her as she lost consciousness.

She woke in an ambulance, David holding her hand like he'd done when they were children. He was always the best big brother she could have asked for, always protective of her, and always pushing her to be better. He had convinced her to trust Ruth, convinced her to take a chance with the older woman who was willing to adopt both of them, and they had found another home together. When she was scared or sick, he was right there to hold her hand. Even now as pain ripped through her, he was there. She tried to understand, but her body burned until the flame became too much to bear.

She woke again to the beeping of machines and David's yelling, her body aching but no longer in the same searing pain. Lifting herself up to try and hear what David was saying, she struggled to make out more than just fragments.

"I'm not leaving, that's my sister ---- How did -- she wasn't, she --- I don't know, she never said anything ----- A WHAT? No! I'm --- not leaving!"

Emma's stomach lurched, and she shifted to get out of bed. The sheets slid from her middle, and she gasped. Her middle was rounded, as if she was pregnant. But that was impossible, that was absolutely and completely impossible.

A knock sounded, a petite woman entering.

"I'm Doctor Mullins, Emma. I know that this may take some time to fully process, but… you're pregnant."

Emma hissed out a breath into a hysterical laugh. "What? No. No. This is not how babies work, or pregnancy, or even - I haven't even had sex since - "

"I know, and I understand that you must be frightened." The doctor attempted to console her, but Emma could not stop her rising panic. She touched the rounded skin of her stomach, the firm smoothness lined with stretch marks. Letting out a low wail, the doctor tried to speak over her still. "It's some ancient and dark magic, but it's very real. We have an inspector on the way to take your statement, and we performed a few tests -"

"No. No, this is a bad dream, this isn't real, this isn't happening to me!" Emma closed her eyes, trying to focus.

" - most concerning of which is the results on paternity, which indicate that the father has non-human presenting DNA. Normally that's not terribly unusual, but this is clearly not a planned pregnancy considering your… your conception being, well, this, and the genomic markers show that the parentage is half Celestial. I need to ask, have you had any relationships with an Angel?"

Emma shook her head, trying to understand what the doctor was asking.

"Alright, what about anyone with proximity to dark, Arcane, or Demonic magics? Anyone who associates with Demons? Do you associate with them?" The doctor eyed her curiously, and Emma shook her head again.

"I don't know any Demons, Angels, or Celestials." Emma bit her lip, frustrated at the question. Rolling it between her teeth, she murmured a thought out loud. "I did recently perform a ritual that was older. It didn't call for this though, I don't know anything about this…"

"Well, it doesn't just happen." Emma looked at the doctor with enough venom in her stare to curdle milk. The doctor laughed nervously. "I mean, it did but -"

"This cannot be happening," Emma moaned, throwing her head back against the hospital bed's pillow. "This has to be a bad dream."

"I'm afraid it is all very real. Considering the circumstances, an inspector of magical law will be assigned to question you regarding the situation. Because of the issues of legality, you may not leave or have visitors until then." The doctor stood, brushing her hands on her slacks. "Baby looks healthy despite wanting to grow at an accelerated rate, and we have slowed that as much as we can. Welcome to motherhood Miss Swan, and, er… Congratulations." Giving a last placid smile, she left the room, leaving Emma alone.

Emma sat stunned, unable to do anything but focus on her steady breathing.

(Fuck)

The single word came to mind again and again, escaping from her lips as her breath finally began to turn into sobs.

"Fuck."

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lovelivingmydreams · 4 years

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Hello everyone! I'm back from my exile into the low wifi marches. I'm recharged and ready to share the next instalment of my contribution to @cssns as always make sure to drop by the amazingly talented @mariakov81 as she will be posting the artwork for this chapter.

Now join me as we spy on a special date

Enjoy!

#cssns 2020 #ouat captain swan #captainswan #captain hook #emma swan #hope you like this!

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mariakov81 · 4 years

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Here is my art for the chapter 1 of the story "Labors of love" by amazing @lovelivingmydreams as a part of @cssns event! Thank you for organising it!

#captain swan #cs fanart #ouat #ouat captain swan #cssns2020 #cssns 2020 #cssns #cs ff rec

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ohmightydevviepuu · 1 year

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fanbinding: the sword and the heart

and the last but certainly not the least of what i've been calling the masha collection, after the incredible inspiration that is @mariakov81 and her support and talent and fandom: The Sword and the Heart.

full season 5 divergence written for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2020 (@cssns) by me and by @thisonesatellite.

half-letter folio--binding method: coptic covers with coptic/french link stitch combination. black thread for the ~aesthetic~

paper: neenah cougar cream vellum 70# text weight covers: giclee print on hahnemuhle william turner 310 gsm, sealed with archival modpodge

title page by @mariakov81 (hand drawn pen and ink) title graphics by me, using art from medesulda cover calligraphy by @thisonesatellite

#cs fic #cs canon divergence #season 5 #fanbinding #renegade bindery #door of time books #captain swan supernatural summer #cssns2020 #cssns

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cssns · 1 year

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CSSNS Get to Know Me!

Please welcome @zaharadessert!

How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom?

Since 2020

When did you start shipping Captain Swan?

I watched the show so late I kinda knew they were a thing already, so... yeah. I was all in the moment they met.

What drew you to this event?

Krystal bribed me :P

What inspired your topic?

Krystal put up a prompt... so I changed my entire idea. And then wrote most of it in 2 days.

If you would like to share a snippet/sneak peek/summary of your fic or artwork, please use the space below.

She struggled and cried out in protest but there was nothing to be done. The chill of the stone crept into her body. She could feel it sapping her strength and making it harder to concentrate on fighting what was being done, stealing away the hope in her heart. All her parents had done to train her to protect herself, and… it was all she could do to lay there. Like the pathetic damsel in the stories princes and knights loved to tell. Despair joined the fear encasing her heart as the cultists moved around her, painting more symbols on the floor. Emma’s eyes flicked frantically around her, looking for anything to help her escape. The cult leader arranged her dress- making the sleeves lie perfectly around the chains- splayed her hair around her head in a fan of gold, and smoothed down the wrinkles in the dirtied lace. Every time she tried to move the chains tightened a little more. He rounded the altar and stood by her head, drawing from the depths of his cloak a distinctive dagger, the edge curving wickedly like waves and held it over her body. He started to chant and she struggled against the chains until she couldn’t hold back the tears of pain any longer. She let them fall, the heat of them almost burning her cold skin as she let out one desperate whisper as she closed her eyes.

“Please, help me.”

Who/what have you beta'd before, or is this your first time?

I've beta'd the last couple of years for this.

What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event?

Actually finishing the damn thing before my post date, maybe??? Nah, I love reading what everyone else comes up with and getting excited about writing together and about who is dropping what next.

We’re very excited to see what @zaharadessert has in store for us when her story drops on July 21st!

#GTKM #cssns23 #zaharadessert #gtkm interview

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thejollyroger-writer · 3 years

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THE WASTELAND - DEAD MAN’S PEAK (14/15)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Almost there!! Thanks for sticking around with me for so long -- I promise it’s all worth it.

Specialist thanks to @spartanguard for her lovely art and @cssns for making it happen, and especially to all you guys who have stuck around for all of this – we’re almost done, I promise! Special shout-out to @thisonesatellite for her incredible fight scene beta work, bc I’m terrible at them and she is not and she helped wrangle my thoughts like Merlin had to wrangle -- well, you’ll see. Her help created one kick-ass kicking ass scene, and I hope you all enjoy it.

Also on AO3

“The last climb to the peak is just ahead,” Wendy huffs, out of breath from the last big hill as she points ahead of them. Though they have kept the thought to themselves, there is a collective fear that the large wall of rock ahead of them was the last step of their journey, a silent prayer said to whatever higher power they believe in to spare them from what looms ahead.

But even with that, not a single one of them is surprised to learn that their worst fears are true.

Their adventure across the island has taken only a few hours since Wendy finished her story, a breath of fresh air to the hardships they’ve encountered over the last few days. It’s like the island has run out of obstacles for them, is ready for them to take the last leg of their journey and finally reach where they came here to go in the first place: Dead Man’s Peak, home of the healing waters which will hopefully save not not only Killian’s life, but David’s, as well.

Now that they’re so close, can see the crags and footholds on the formation instead of simply a looming presence, a thought forms in the back of Emma’s mind, the reality of things she hasn’t allowed herself to think about. Though most of her fears come from travelling all the way to this island and failing to save Killian’s life, she finds herself thinking about what would happen if they failed to save David, about what it would mean for them to return to the Gale with news of the Prince’s death. What would they tell his father? How would they announce the news to the kingdom, when David’s rejection of his father’s views brought so much hope to so many people? The riots, the bloodshed, the anger that would come from that could be worse than the toll the War has taken on the people of the Gale.

She looks up from the path in front of her to where David and Mary Margaret are walking side by side and watches as he releases her hand to offer her the canteen from his hip. What would Mary Margaret do? Heartbreak would only be the beginning of her grief, raising a baby without the love of her life, without the man she has planned everything with for most of her life. In a world without him, without the hope he brought her, not to mention the rest of the world. Not a day would go by that she wasn’t reminded of her loss.

“Emma, love, you okay?” She almost doesn’t hear him, drowning in her own fears, but Killian’s words pull her back to reality as he takes a few larger steps to catch up to her.

“Hm?” She turns to him with as much of a smile as she can muster at the moment, though thankful that he acted when he did, before he could find herself more lost in the fears in the back of her mind.

“You just looked like you were worried.”

“Well,” she replies before gesturing generally around them, pulling a soft chuckle from Killian.

“More worried than usual, then.”

She wants to just shrug it off and say the island is getting the best of her, but she makes the mistake of turning towards him, seeing just how much he cares obvious in his pure blue eyes that have had her attention from the first moment he opened them the first morning she found him in her office. She sees the worry painted on his face, some of it from their circumstances; but knowing that some of that worry comes from the way he cares for her, she feels the walls she has built around herself crumble just a bit. “Something about almost being there is making me start to face the things I’ve been avoiding since this all started.”

“It’s going to be okay, love,” he whispers, reaching out to squeeze her hand, and though she can tell he doesn’t want to let go, he still does.

“How do you know?” She has no idea where the question comes from, and the last thing she wants to do is put more stress on him, but once it’s out, there’s no taking it back.

He just shrugs. “I don’t know for sure, really, but I have faith in you and in David and the rest of our crew.”

“Aren’t you scared?” She feels the same way about this question as the previous one, and he stops, watching as David and Mary Margaret move down the path in front of them. This time, she’s the one who reaches out for his hand; he’s thankful for it and turns his attention towards how she threads her fingers through his instead of looking at her for his confession.

“Of course I’m scared. I’ve never been so bloody terrified in my life. But if we’re destined to beat this, to get past this and leave Neverland behind, then whatever we find at the top of this mountain should be a piece of cake, as long as we do it together.”

The urge to kiss him is too strong, the second time today she’s dealt with it, but there’s nothing to stop her now. They’re at the end of the group, no one to come through the brush behind them. “Killian,” she whispers, moving to close the space between them as she rests her other hand on his chest, careful to avoid the area where she knows his injury to be. She can feel the pounding of both of their hearts, his under her fingertips while hers is strong enough to be felt through her whole body — but just like every other time they’ve touched, it comes with the same wave of calming peace rushing over them.

But Killian shakes his head, releasing her hand to rest his on her shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he mumbles with a chuckle. “I don’t — I want our first kiss to be without this cloud of death and destruction hanging over us, not until we know we’re both making it off this damned island.”

She laughs softly, resting her head against his shoulder, “That might be the most sensible thing you’ve ever said to me, even if going home means going back to the Wasteland.”

“After this, anything seems possible.” She moves to step away from him, but instead he places his hand on her hip, keeping her close to him. “Just… promise me something, Emma?” She looks back up at him and she doesn’t mean to pull her bottom lip between her teeth, but doesn’t regret the way his eyes grow wide at the sight of it, focused on her mouth until he blinks it away. “Don’t — don’t go back on this, yeah? On us?”

Nodding, she swallows the lump in her throat. “Okay,” she says, her voice much more hoarse than she expected it to be. For a moment, neither of them dare to move, Killian’s thumb moving slowly against the soft skin above the waist of her pants as her fingers toy with the material of his tee shirt. If they could stay here, time unmoving around them, able to ignore everything but each other, no threat of poison, death, war, looming over them — they would take that without a second thought.

But that’s not their current reality. “We should catch up with the others,” he whispers, though he already regrets that it would mean moving away from her, out of their shared moment, and she nods, stepping away from him, but reaching down to thread their fingers back together. A shadow of a smile crosses his face and he lifts her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against the back of it, against the sensitive spot at the base of her wrist, as they begin to move back towards the rest of their friends.

The climb to the peak proves less futile than it looked, and between the magic of the Magistra, an Elder, and Merlin, they quickly build a quick magic-driven pulley system after Emma and Merlin climbed together.

Everything moves smoothly, every climb taking only a few minutes, until only David, Robin, and Belle remain at the bottom. David takes the rope in his hands, wraps it around his left wrist — and falls to the ground, his knees hitting the worn dirt with a thump.

“Dave!” Robin cries, rushing to his side, and Emma has to wrap her arm around Mary Margaret’s torso to keep her away from the ledge, soothing her as she screams out in fear. “Dave, what’s wrong?” Robin asks, kneeling next to where the Prince has fallen in the dirt.

“Dreamshade.” He can barely get the word out, his shoulders rising and falling with quick, labored breaths. “Spreading.”

Robin moves to lift his shirt, pausing to allow David to nod his permission.

It’s bad. Very bad. Robin has watched as Emma checked on this wound over the few days since he obtained it, and has seen how it failed to spread from the man’s rib cage to the opposite side, staying away from his heart. Now, all of that has changed. Robin watches, eyes wide, as the poison continues to spread, inching closer to where David’s heart is pounding in his chest.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters, and David turns his attention down to his wound, which he has been avoiding. When he sees what Robin sees, what causes Belle to gasp and cover her mouth as she looks over Robin’s shoulder, every drop of hope drains from his face, taking the color with it.

It’s just as bad as he expected, the absolute worst case scenario, and he squeezes his eyes shut as his nightmares come true, trying to keep himself from spiraling. He’s not making it off this island. He’s never going to see the Gale again, never going to watch the sunset over the mountains from his balcony. He’s not going to meet his heir, the child that has made it through the same Neverland hardships that he has — save the poison.

“I can’t climb,” he whispers, wrapping his fingers around Robin’s forearm.

Robin nods. “Yeah, okay, then you — you and I will stay down here.”

But David shakes his head. “No, they... need you. To fight.”

“I’m not leaving you down here alone.”

“What’s going on?” Mary Margaret calls from the top of the cliff, still held back by Emma’s arm, though they have moved closer to the edge.

“He can’t climb!” Belle calls back.

“Let me go back down,” Mary Margaret says to no one in particular, and Emma releases her with a nod.

“I'll go, too,” Regina says.

No one argues with either of them, even through Regina’s uncharacteristic offer of assistance.

“Can you poof us down there?” Mary Margaret asks, taking Regina’s hand when she offers it to her, confused but relieved by the soft smiles they share.

Regina squeezes her hand with a nod. “I hope so.” One hand wrapped around Mary Margaret’s, she swirls the other in the air in front of them, leaving only a cloud of dark purple smoke.

For a moment, then another, nothing happens. The whole island seems to hold its breath. And then they appear at the bottom of the cliff, just feet from where David and Robin are still kneeling in the dirt.

“David,” Mary Margaret breathes, crossing the space between them with quick steps, Regina following close behind. Together, Robin and Regina help the prince to his feet, moving him away from the base of the cliff and helping him find a seat on a nearby rock. Mary Margaret sits beside him, threading her arm under his and weaving their fingers together.

Once they’re set, Robin and Belle share a glance. “You ready to climb, ma’am?”

Belle nods, but gestures for Robin to climb first. Though he hates to leave his friend behind, he has faith that Regina will be able to offer David the same protection that he would, perhaps more with her powers as an Elder. But David is right, and Robin belongs where the fight will be, his rifle more useful to Emma and Killian.

Hopefully.

As he makes the ascent, Robin fears that they may have played right into Pan’s trap, leaving David and Mary Margaret behind at the bottom of the cliff, far from the waters that should heal him once and for all.

“You just need to make it to the water.” Wendy points through the brush towards the sound of rushing waters. “One sip, and you and your friend will be healed.”

Killian nods, his chest suddenly heavy with a weight that has been strangely absent, a fear that he has successfully avoided thinking about since he first learned that David had also been poisoned, that their fates were now entwined. The chance of them all getting off the island is slim — impossible, with the knowledge shared by Wendy just that morning. He moves towards the brush, knows that he must be the one to cut down the brambles — but he also knows, somehow, that if they were to look at his wounds, they would find the black spreading under his skin as well, further than it has before, getting closer to taking his life, to the end that he always knew was coming, somewhere in the back of his mind.

“Who gets to do the honors?” Merlin asks, and though many of them are holding knives, no one moves any closer to the wall of plants.

“It has to be me.”

“Why?” Killian turns his attention from the brush to an overly-worried Robin for a moment before returning his gaze to the thorns that he recognizes from twelve years ago, from the day his brother died and every nightmare he’s had since then, and he points to the brush with his knife before taking the last step towards it.

“Because it’s—” he begins, but Emma reaches out and places her hand on his arm, suddenly overcome with the overwhelming feeling that something is about to go terribly wrong.

"Pan," she whispers. "I can feel him."

“Careful, Captain,” a voice calls from behind them, and they all turn to see Pan. “Though I’m sure you recognize—”

“Dreamshade,” Robin says, still trying to put the pieces of it together.

The demon and Killian nod simultaneously. “Did you tell them that you’re not feeling too well, that you can feel the poison reaching your heart?” He doesn’t want to look at her, but he can’t keep his gaze from finding hers. He should have told her. He shouldn’t have hidden it from them — from her. “What if I get your heart rate up? What if I tell you that the plant has gotten more potent since the last time you stood on this peak? It took minutes to kill your brother, but it will take mere moments for you now.”

He can’t let his terror show on his face, he knows that, but still takes a small step away from the brush.

Pan smiles. “You can’t hide your fear from me, Jones.” He turns away from Killian towards the rest of the group around him. “None of you can. Neverland thrives on fear. I know what all of you fear the most. The island can sense it. It tells me your deepest fears, though most of you are mortal and fear petty things like death and isolation.”

He turns on his heel and points directly at Emma. “Except you. The island senses nothing about you. I’ve given you the hardest tasks, the Echo Caves and bringing back his past love, but you, Miss Swan, are still unreadable.”

Killian wishes he were surprised. Ever since he first crawled through the doors to her hospital, he knew she was something special, something unlike anything he’s ever experienced. Fate or not, he was never surprised that he fell in love with her. He’s only surprised that he’s gotten this far without acting on it, save his words in the Caves and his confession earlier that day. Every moment since then, he has regretted what he said to her earlier, not letting her kiss him, with the doom of their current adventure hanging over them like a bad omen. Everything about her has surprised him from the very beginning, from her beauty to her powers, from their connection to the fact that she is seemingly unaffected by this bloody island. If he can make it out of this alive, he wants a future with her, with the most amazing, brilliant, and beautiful woman he has ever met. He wants a future, he allows himself to think for the first time. He wants to make it off this island, back to his ship and his home and a place where he can live a happy life with her beside him, even if it’s a life filled with war and violence. With her, anything is possible.

And that includes beating Pan. Once and for all, he senses. Somehow he knows that their battle against him will bring the end to the island, an end to the life of a timeless demon. If they can get there.

“So, what, Pan?” Emma asks, and when Killian turns to her again, she has pulled the pistol from her waist holster. “Is this where we battle you? Where we fight for a winner once and for all?”

He steps forward, right into the middle of their half-circle. “Is that what you want, Miss Swan? Or — what if I offer you a compromise?”

“No,” Emma replies, without even a moment’s hesitation.

But Killian surprises himself when he says, “Hear him out, Swan.”

“No!” She wishes she could know how David felt about all of this. Since their first meeting, she has needed his guidance, and has barely made a decision, let alone something as important as this, without talking to him about it. But when she looks at Killian, who simply shrugs, her face softens — her whole frame softens, her pistol drops.

“That’s more like it,” Pan says with a smile. “Here’s what I offer you: I’ll clear the thorns and heal the pirate and the prince, let you leave with who you’ve picked up along the way, but you must choose the two of you that stay.”

Emma’s eyes go wide, and she lifts her pistol again. “No. No way.” Away from the rest of the group, Milah and Wendy also shake their heads, not willing to make their new friends make that decision.

“Fine” Pan says, turning away from them to look at the brambles of Dreamshade sitting behind him.

Whether Pan expects it or not, this is the opening they are waiting for, and everything happens in the same moment: Emma fires a shot, just as Will throws one of the knives on his hip and Merlin raises his hands to bring smoke up around him.

Emma's bullet grazes his arm as he flicks his other hand, sending Will's knife back towards him. It lodges in Will’s shoulder, and Belle is the fastest to act, reaches out to take Will’s hand and disappears in a cloud of golden smoke. Pan turns his attention towards Emma, glares at her as he raises his hand to stem the bleeding.

Robin and Emma share a glance and fire simultaneously, serving as a distraction from Merlin, who is trying to wrangle a path through the brush. The brush reacts like a living entity, fighting against each one of the Merlin’s movements as it bends and waves towards him.

Pan poofs to another location as Killian sheathes his knife and brings his rifle to his shoulder just as Graham quickly aims his rifle and fires. He senses the demon's movements and puts himself between Pan and Killian just as Emma raises her pistol, also moving towards Killian as he fires again and Pan deflects — but it finds another target when it hits Graham in the chest and knocks him to the ground.

Merlin, successful with his tussle with the Dreamshade, rushes to Graham’s side, magic already shooting from his palms as he presses them against the injured chest, and Robin moves towards them.

Milah rushes towards the action and pulls her knife from its sheath before turning towards Pan, who is pushing Emma and Killian towards the Dreamshade with his magic. When Milah is inches from Pan he turns towards her, waves his hand in the air, and the knife disappears from her hand and reappears in Pan’s just in time for him to plunge it into her chest. “Oh, Milah,” he says, mock sadness in his voice, as she falls to the ground. Killian screams, trying to rush Pan, but he pushes back with his magic, powerful enough to knock both Killian and Emma off their feet and through the hole Merlin wrangled in the brush, right into the water beyond it.

Killian feels it acting right away, as soon as it soaks through this clothing and reaches his skin. All of the legends and the research, and even Wendy just a few minutes before, said that the healing power of the water would come from drinking it, but something else is happening here.

Something magical.

It rejuvenates him, all of the energy of a perfectly warm shower on a cold day, lighting up the dark crevices inside of him that have been broken and hidden for so long. His skin tingles with a power unlike anything he has ever experienced, and he watches, eyes wide, as the scratches, scars, and bruises that cover his arms disappear. When he feels it reach his heart, it almost knocks the wind out of him, and he lifts his shirt just in time to watch the healing powers of the water reach the gash in his side, and the magical iridescence of the poison slowly disappears before the wound closes, leaves only a scar behind. He is aware of every movement within his body: the beating of his heart, yes, but the way his blood flows through his veins and the movement of his skin as it heals around the wound on his arm and the gash in his side.

He turns his attention towards Emma, who has been watching him intently since they landed beside each other in the water. He's not ready for the tears in her eyes, her relieved, elated smile, the brightness of her eyes that has been muted since they first met, brought back to its full brilliance by watching him heal from wounds that, only hours before, had been deadly.

"Enough!" Pan yells, raising his hands in front of him, and everything around them stops — the rushing of the water, the wind through the trees, and the movement of their friends on the other side of the bushes — but Pan's magic has no effect on Emma and Killian, hands joined as they stand in the waist-deep water.

“You can do this, Swan,” he whispers, watching Pan's eyes widen in fear as he realizes that they are not affected by his magic. Something more than ever before flows through her with his touch. She wonders if it is from the water, or Killians newfound hope — or something more, something deeper than what she can imagine, older than the War and the Gale and older than the earth itself — and with the energy from Killian’s touch flowing through her she focuses all of her power into her hands, creating a bright ball of light that even Pan cannot deflect.

It hits him square in the chest and he falls to the ground, releases the rest of their friends from his power, and, mouths agape, they watch as Pan changes before their eyes, aging from the young teenage body he was in, through young adult and adult and middle-aged into a wrinkled, withered old man, who takes his last gasping breath with Wendy standing above him.

"The island dies with me," he chokes, and they barely have time to celebrate their victory before Pan's words become a reality. Everything around them starts to crumble, and Killian quickly fills his canteen with the healing waters before they begin to disappear.

"Let's get out of here," Merlin says, reaching out to take the hands of his companions. "I've never moved this many people at the same time. Emma, maybe you can help?"

"Just tell me what to do."

"Close your eyes. Picture as much about where we left the Jolly as you can, not only the ship, but the beach and the water. Do you think you can do that?"

They take their place beside Merlin, hands still clenched together, and she smiles at Killian as they join the circle. "Yeah, I can do that."

Robin lifts Graham’s corpse over his shoulder, the last to join them as the earth under their feet begins to shake, threatening an earthquake.

"Let's get out of here," Killian says, hoping that the faith he has in Emma is enough to get them back to the ship.

But after what they just experienced, anything seems possible.

#the wasteland #my writing #wordsbymeganmichael #cssns #cssns 2020 #captain swan #cs au #fantasy au #cs ff

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jarienn972 · 3 years

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La Sirena - Chapter Seven

Captain Swan Supernatural Summer

After not getting much writing done over the hectic (and rather awkward this year) holidays, the muse finally returned long enough for me to finish this latest chapter of my @cssns story. (It also didn’t help that my old laptop finally gave out on me so I had a 2 week delay while waiting to get a new one and get all of my files transferred.) This chapter sets up the coming climax as there are only two more chapters planned and as you’ll see by the end of this chapter, it’s not going to be fair sailing for their blossoming relationship. We left off in chapter six with a stunned Killian learning more about Emma's past and the history surrounding the only known human who'd ever been deemed worthy to avoid the siren song. There's still a lot of uncertainty for this pair as confrontation with Regina looms - and things are going to get very stormy.

Thanks again to @kmomof4 for being an amazing beta and cheerleader and to @courtorderedcake for her stunning artwork!

Catch up from the beginning on AO3 or FF.net or here on Tumblr: One Two Three Four Five Six

Pause to Reflect

How does one act upon learning that they might be descended from a deity? Certainly there was nothing about his life so far that would have suggested such a divine lineage could be possible. Liam had practically raised him after their mother's passing when Killian was barely walking. Their father had become an increasingly abusive drunkard, rarely gracing his sons with his presence or assistance. Shortly after Killian's 13th birthday, Liam departed home to begin his new life by enlisting in the Royal Navy. By this time, their father had remarried and his new family became more important than his eldest sons.

Left to fend for himself often, Killian couldn't wait until he could enlist as well - going so far as to lie about his age to join at the tender age of 16 instead of the legal 18. It had helped that his brother, then Lieutenant Liam Jones, was the rising star of His Majesty's Royal Navy. The younger Jones was welcomed with open arms and while life on board a Navy ship in the shadow of his esteemed sibling wasn't particularly easy, it was far preferable to life back home. Killian flourished in his new life at sea and began rising through the Royal Navy ranks himself, but had his success in the maritime realm been a small, random clue from the universe that he was a direct descendant of the god of the seas?

What pure, unadulterated rubbish, Killian thought as he absentmindedly raked his fingers through his dark hair. It couldn't even be remotely possible that he was related to a god.

But then how was any of this real?

Days ago, he'd set out to explore an uncharted, cursed island on His Majesty's orders only to end up being taken captive and losing too many of his men in the skirmish. The pirates who'd abducted him had then sailed away, making the fatal error of venturing into waters guarded by mythical sirens. They were sung to their demise, leaving their treasure-laden ship to run aground and sink into the depths - yet their prisoner survived.

Miraculously, Killian Jones was still here amongst the living. He'd survived the battle, survived captivity and survived the supposedly tantalizing call of the sirens only to find his life in jeopardy once again from those same vindictive sirens?

Bloody hell, Jones… What has your life become?

"...We may not have much time to prepare…," Emma's voice brought him back from his mental wanderings. "Killian? Are you even listening to me? This is quite serious…"

"I'm sorry, Love," he replied sheepishly as he scratched at the week's growth of ruddy, wiry whiskers along his jawline. "I guess I allowed my mind to drift off at the absurdity of all this nonsense. All that I have learned today hasn't exactly been the easiest pill to swallow, you know…?"

"What about this debacle do you need to swallow?" she questioned, not understanding his chosen euphemism.

"Saying that something is difficult to swallow means that it's just a smidge hard to believe. Oy, this has been quite the long week…" He cringed the very moment he uttered those words, chastising himself for using another expression she wasn't likely going to understand. "Nevermind…," he sighed. "Let's just focus on what we need to do at this moment."

"So then you admit that you were not listening?" she scolded him as she placed a woven reed basket filled with a variety of fruit onto the sandy ground by his feet while tossing a ripe fig towards him. Well, maybe she'd thrown it at him, he surmised as he caught the fig mere inches before it would have struck his still-healing forehead. He frowned his feigned displeasure but she ignored him, continuing her instruction. "I know Regina. We aren't going to have much preparation time and you will need your strength, so eat. I'll raise a protective spell around the cavern but it may be of little use against the full council - or against the powers of a god."

"I thought you didn't want to use your magic?" he queried, biting into the sweet fig as she'd ordered. Oh, what he wouldn't have given for a huge slab of savory, tender mutton right now…

"I have no choice. If I can provide you with even some brief protection, then I must. I brought this retribution upon myself the moment I rescued you…"

"Why did you?" he interrupted. "Why did you choose to rescue me? If you were aware of the huge risk you would be taking with that act, why didn't you let me drown?"

Her emerald green eyes cast solemnly downward as she stood in contemplative silence for a moment. "My instincts told me I should," she replied after a long pause. "You were injured and weak and my intuition insisted that I needed to save you. I do not regret my decision and perhaps this is why…" She lifted her gaze to meet his as an almost wistful smile stretched across her lips. "Perhaps you were meant to save me."

"Save you?" This time, he was the one who failed to grasp the intention of the statement, but his query would go unanswered as the cavern was plunged into ominous darkness. The midday sun that had mere seconds ago been reflecting off of the surface of the spring had, in an instant, been replaced by the blackness of midnight. "That can't be good…" Killian muttered as his hand instinctively inched toward the grip of his newly acquired cutlass.

Emma's expression hardened as she swallowed back the awful lump forming in her throat while spinning around to cast her eyes skyward at their narrow view of the heavens through the opening in the ancient lava tube ceiling.

"There is nothing good to come from these gathering clouds," Emma stated as she angrily set her jaw, a scowl now deeply carved where the gentle smile had previously graced her visage. "Stay here - and please, do not disobey my instruction this time. My protective spell will stall their actions but I do not know for how long. Allow me to try reasoning with them first?"

"And then what?" he wondered, tightening his fingers around the bronze cutlass, however useless it may be against a god.

"I wish I knew," she sighed as she unconsciously allowed her fingertips to brush across his forearm, a gesture that left his skin tingling and his heart aching as she sprinted away to confront the ghosts of her past.

***********

Emma couldn't remember ever seeing the waters of her typically serene bay so angry. She heard no birds singing from the swaying palms nor did she sense the presence of any of the local sea creatures. Her marine friends had wisely left the cove to escape the wrath of the gods, but Emma had no such choice. Shedding the linen tunic that would only weigh her down and entangle her fins, she darted to the end of the jetty and dove through the choppy waves. Her human legs morphed into her lithe, muscular tail the instant she submerged and with a powerful flick of her tailfin, she plunged into the depths in search of her sister.

Mocking chatter echoed through the seas and filled her ears but Emma chose to ignore it. Insufferable as she might be, Regina was really the least of her concerns if Triton became involved. She could only hope to plead her case to the council and perhaps they wouldn't be so quick to laugh once she proved Killian was a worthy human, deaf to the seducing siren call. They would have to show him mercy and perhaps then she could appeal to Poseidon's mercies as well to grant the wayward sailor a path home.

Sediment stirred from the ocean floor obscured her sight but she didn't need her vision to sense Regina and the council's presence. It surrounded her from all sides, a heavy weight trying to force her down because while she might still be physically one of their kind, Emma had long ago been ostracized. The oppressive atmosphere she felt here beneath the sea she'd long called home only served as confirmation that she was no longer regarded as an equal.

"Show yourself, sister!" Emma shouted, masking her fear with overt bravado. She'd be damned if she would bow to the council's pressure. "Let us settle this matter right here and now!"

The taunting words and laughter drew closer until Emma sensed the feather-light flick of something against her fin. A slithering tentacle skimmed and then encircled her forearm before Emma wriggled free and glared into Regina's grinning facade. She would have loved to have smacked her sister right out of the ocean with a whip of her tail, but Emma didn't dare waste the energy.

Regina, in her favored squid-like form, whirled around her estranged sibling a few times, creating a mini vortex around Emma's body before swirling to a halt roughly an arm's length in front of the beleaguered former siren. With her human arms, Regina daintily slicked back a few stray strands of ebony curls while adjusting her elaborate coral-studded headdress, gestures clearly intended to intimidate and remind Emma who was in charge here. Emma folded her arms across her breast in defiance, not about to be put off by Regina's posturing but still hoping she could conceal her growing anxiety in front of the council.

The remainder of the council began to appear from out of the blue depths, initially as shapeless blobs that she gradually began to recognize. The sirens took a diverse variety of marine forms, each choosing their preference based on individual strengths and morphing ability. There seemed to be a few new faces on the council, at least some she didn't remember after years of trying to put that chapter of her life behind her. The only thing Emma was certain of was that all seemed to be wrapped up in the same little bubble of disdain. Regina's influence may have been stronger than Emma anticipated.

"Erimetha…," Regina addressed her at last. "You have been accused by this council of sirens of violating our solemn code and aiding a human. Well, not just aiding - harboring. We believe you have allowed that same human to live with you. Did you suddenly feel the need for a pet after all of your years in banishment?" Her insult elicited a chorus of chuckles amongst the council members and while Emma's instinct would have been to snap at her snide remark, she bit her tongue and allowed it to slide - for now.

"As I have stated many times before, sister, I was never banished. You can believe that fallacy all you want, but I made the choice to leave entirely of my own volition," Emma stated.

"Semantics," Regina dismissed the argument with a shrug. "Doesn't change the severity of these violations that you stand accused of."

"I have committed no transgression," Emma insisted, "not that it matters to any of you! Every one of you blindly sings your song to entice those unsuspecting humans so you can appease the gods, but why? You're told that all humans are evil and unworthy to traverse our realm, but have you ever spoken to a human? Ever gotten to know one?"

"We were created merely to pass the gods' judgement upon those inferior beings." The statement came from a council member with flaming red hair who Emma recalled was named Zelena. She also recalled that Zelena was one of Regina's closest allies as the redhead continued speaking. "They all submit to our song and then drown themselves. If this act pleases the gods, who are we to disagree?"

"Even the great Poseidon himself said that those sailors who were deemed worthy would be allowed to pass through our realm unimpeded. Why would he make such a statement if he believed that no human would ever be worthy?" Emma countered, but her words were still falling on deaf ears.

"Please…," Regina chuffed. "No human has been determined to be worthy in nearly a millennium. All have surrendered themselves to our siren song and all have perished."

"Not all!" Emma snapped. "One survived your song. One was immune to your seduction. Perhaps the gods had already determined his worth?"

"So - you admit that you have been harboring a human here with you?" Regina demanded, eagerly waiting for Emma to incriminate herself as her tentacles coiled with anticipation.

"It is of no matter to you," Emma responded. "He still survived. I did not make him immune."

Regina stared back at Emma in disbelief of her sister's bluntness. "That's not possible. No human can be immune to our enticing call…"

"Killian never heard your song, nor mine," Emma blurted out, immediately regretting her utterance.

"Killian, is it?" Regina teased, a stomach churning smirk curling up the corners of her ruby red lips. "You gave your pet a name? Aww… how adorable… How about we go find out just how immune your pet really is?"

With a swish of her tentacles, Regina launched her body upward through the waves with Emma following close behind. They broke through and surfaced almost simultaneously but before Emma could speak, Regina let out a hearty cackle.

"A protection spell? Seriously, Emma, you really need to do better than that," Regina taunted, using Emma's preferred moniker as a derogatory slur. With the faintest wave of her perfectly manicured right hand, Regina's magic cancelled out Emma's protective barrier and a bewildered Killian Jones materialized upon the sandy shoreline in full view of the council. "So, this is your little pet human?" Regina regarded his bedraggled appearance from afar, noting his ill-fitting clothing, tousled hair and scraggly beard. "We're to believe that this pitiful looking thing is supposedly worthy of our realm?"

"Stop referring to him as a pet! He's an intelligent being, just as we are, and he has a name - Killian Jones!" Emma cried out in his defense, uncertain if he could hear their conversation from this distance.

"He's still an inferior creature," Regina scoffed. "Why would I ever believe that this - this scrawny human - could be immune to the call of the sirens?"

"Have the council sing. Sing yourself if you must," Emma offered. "You will all see that it will have no effect upon him. He does not hear the melody - not a single note!"

"Oh, I have plans to test your human," Regina sneered, her eyes narrowing and darkening malevolently. "Lord Triton!" she called out, much to Emma's horror. "Deliver me that kraken!"

#cssns #cssns 2020 #captain swan supernatural summer #cs ff #cs au ff #siren emma #la sirena #things are about to escalate quickly #and I'm going to try hard to get this finished before signups for 2021 close!

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eastwesthomeisbest · 3 years

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I’ll be Waiting For You by the Blood Moon 11/11

Chapter 10

And here's the last artwork for the last chapter of the amazing story written by @cocohook38 for @cssns (@kmomof4 )

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/Prologue/ /Chapter 1/ /Chapter 2/ /Chapter 3/

/Chapter 4/ /Chapter 5/ /Chapter 6/ /Chapter 7/

/Chapter 8/ /Chapter 9/ / Chapter 10/

Also in AO3

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I want to thank you @cocohook38 from the bottom of my heart for the chance to work on this great story. For me all of this was an exceptional journey, an incredible experience, pure pleasure and great honor! (and a big thank you to @kmomof4 for introducing us to each other.)

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allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 · 4 years

Photo

Angel!Emma/Demon!Killian CS AU for @cssns 2020

You looked at me, my heart began to pound You weren't the sort of guy I thought would stick around Hey, but it don't have to be eternally My bad, bad Angel put the Devil in me You put the Devil in me (x)

This is my first solo art piece for CSSNS 2020, inspired by the “never run faster than your guardian angel can fly” photo I used in the aesthetic. Emma’s glowing blue eyes and Killian’s black eyes are inspired by the angel and demon eyes in Supernatural, but it’s not really an AU of the show (though I guess it could be).

They get a taste of each other’s worlds, and demon!Killian walks through clouds while angel!Emma breathes fire. The sneaky snake has a tint of blue while the winged one has warmer tones.

Big shoutout and lots of love to the mods for running this event again! ❤️

#cssns #captain swan supernatural summer #captain swan #angel!emma #demon!killian #cssns 2020 #cs au #cs aesthetic #cs aesthetics #kayla's cs aesthetics #kayla's aesthetics #snakes

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courtorderedcake · 4 years

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Majestically Too Far Beyond, CSSNS 2020

Emma Swan is a Witch who has made (And apparently makes) bad decisions. Helping a desperate Witch out of a weird situation doesn't seem like a bad decision, even against her, runes, a tarot reading and her friend's Snow druid intuition - until it is and the consequences are very real.

Killian is a Demon with a long history of persecution against him, and his denizens are not much better off. His Angelic brother is on a mission to rehab Demonic image to prevent violence on the streets of Hyperion Heights, as some sort of Holy mission deeply rooted in millenia of guilt. Witches and Warlocks use them for parts, Werewolves see them as a threat, Angels mostly still hold on to the ancient feud regardless of their treatise, Fae stay chaotic neutral, Vampires don't care for others affairs - it's a perilous world where hate crimes happen without consequence. After a disastrous meeting, he attempts to drown his frustration with a trip to the bottom of a bottle, but ends up falling in bed with a mysterious Witch in her tower home. Soon he's missing a hand, has only the vaguest idea of what happened from the mess of blood he's woken up to, and a mirror shows that some strange, different, Witch is pregnant with his child.

RATED M for Mature Themes. Written for @cssns 2020 Beta’d by The best team ever ( @jarienn972 @ultraluckycatnd @donteattheappleshook) and Art by @kmomof4

Read on Ao3 HERE. 1 | 2

Chapter 2 - House Evil Spirits to appease of,

Part of Emma was coming to terms with the new fact that she was pregnant, then just as rapidly she reverts back through the cycle of grief, sometimes not in order. The doctor had warned her this would happen when she announced that they would be keeping her for overnight observation as a safety precaution, dropping the news that her new pregnancy hormones would also make her feel even more upside down then she had ever imagined. It was one thing to be told, but feeling it was another thing entirely.

She had gone from laughing at the breakfast menu she was handed to crying over grilled cheese not being an option, to enraged at being brought bright blue jello with her 'breakfast sandwich' made of bologna and eggs. They could not have known the intense reaction the jiggling neon goo would have given her, her magic flaring and sputtering in turn as she launched it away from her. But then again, she doubted any of the staff had spent time in a No-Magic cell. Nausea bloomed as soon as rage subsided, the food on the plastic tray too similar to what had been served to her over those long years locked away.

Now irritation was playing through multiple emotions, a new nurse violently poking her with a needle, and running some sort of IV.

"You're giving me what -"

"A hormone treatment, and a magic suppressant."

"But I need my magic -"

"Would you prefer to shrivel up and die? You'll still have enough to do daily witch activities or whatever. This helps keep the extra at bay, and your baby healthy. It needs your magic."

"Oh. Great." She laughed, half crazed at the news and the nurse's treatment. "Just great."

"Mess with their kind, and well." She shrugged, eyeing Emma's body. "An Angel wouldn't do that to you. A Vampire couldn't, and the rest of 'em could, but you wouldn't have to suffer through all this nasty magic aftermath. You're just early enough for a termination though, thank Merlin."

"I didn't do this to myself on purpose . This was never supposed to happen, at least not like this…"

"Sure." The nurse rolled her eyes as she drew out the word, clearly being condescending. "It's never the Witch’s fault; I hear it every time I'm fixing them for blowing themselves in half for not reading a spell right. You play with dark magic, there's a cost."

Emma scowled, hot tears starting and streaming down her cheeks. Her anger and ferocity that was there just moments before had evaporated without warning into a deep resignation.

"Can my brother come to see me yet?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"After they question you, sure. He can come pick you up - You're done here." The nurse pulled off the empty bag from the IV stand, throwing it in the trash.

The doctor entered, waving a hello. Emma did not notice her, too busy staring at her bump. She joined the nurse as a machine beeped, helping to take out her IV and the pads on her belly. When that was done, Emma sat up, wobbling from her strange new center of gravity.

The doctor smiled at her kindly. "We'll have your test results in a few days to a week's time. You'll feel strange and sluggish the first few weeks as your body catches up to the rapid growth, your hormones, the magic, so on and so forth. From there, you may actually start to grow as normal until you'll need the next dose of suppression. We'll schedule that out for 4 months from now, checking in monthly, but if you grow suddenly, shrink suddenly, your extremities swell, or you begin to exhibit flu like symptoms, come in immediately. If anything seems off, just give us a call. We have a twenty-four seven nurse line should you have any other questions. Good luck!"

The doctor left without much more than a precursory glance back.

Snapping her gloves, the nurse glared over her glasses at Emma. "Leave when you are ready. We got you a different outfit; it's amongst your personals there."

The nurse left in a hurry, leaving Emma to dress herself in a large pair of green hospital scrubs, her new figure completely foreign as she rubbed her hands across the smooth skin. Her once flat stomach was distended, a slight curve that pushed out stretched skin. Her clothes in the plastic bag they had given her were dirty and looked damp. The clothing she was given would have been a small comfort if the stiff fabric didn't feel so much like her old prison uniform.

"Fuck," Emma choked out, gripping the chair for support. She felt dizzy, absolutely nauseated at the idea of a baby. Her baby. She was pregnant. Something in her felt warmth at the idea, a strange, creeping feeling of rightness mixed with calm. The rest of her wanted to claw at her skin, urging her to wake up from this horrible dream.

Every time she closed her eyes, she fervently wished this wrongness was a hallucination. But it wasn't; she was still swaying on her feet every time she opened her eyes again. This wasn't some sort of nightmare, there was a baby, some creature's inhuman child inside her. "Fuck. Fuck!"

Tears began to prick behind her eyes, her face heating as she sat down on the hospital bed with her head cradled in her hands.

( You can't cry over this. This happened because of your shady dealings.

You got a firstborn child alright. Yours. )

Swallowing hard, Emma tried to banish the thoughts bombarding her.

( A baby. A baby you can love and hold, who you will never abandon. Someone you can raise the way you weren't, a second chance. Put your armor back on - for you and your child. )

Emma bit her lip hard, swiping angrily at her tears. Bottling up the emotions, she took a breath, grabbed her purse, and walked down the hallway. To her great surprise, Elsa was waiting.

"Emma, oh my stars. This is - I have no words. I'm so sorry," Elsa whispered. Emma gave a half hearted shrug, her voice still trembling slightly.

"Yeah. Well. Can I go home yet? That's why you're here right?" Emma hated the anxious, pleading edge of her tone.

"No, not yet. You have to be interviewed by the inspector detective here and then you are free to go." Elsa approached and hugged Emma softly. "I got you a nice one though, he's one of my favorites. Jones. He's an Angel - literally and figuratively. He's saved me on so many cases, I can't help but sing his praise."

"Oh Elsa. Thank you." Emma hugged her friend tightly, both of them trembling. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Elsa scoffed. "I don't know what anyone would do. Joking aside, we are all going to be here for you, no matter what happens. It's not going to be like last time." Elsa pushed back a strand of Emma's hair, looking straight into her eyes. "You won't go through this alone. We're going to fight for you, and figure this out. Luckily, our major project is postponed anyway. Until they find the Demon Prince, the council is on a hiatus."

"I just want to go home. I don't know if I can handle everyone right now." Emma mumbled. "It's bad enough David probably knows, which means Snow and everyone else -"

"Please don't push us away, Emma. We know it's a lot, but going into the unknown like this," Elsa took one of Emma's hands, squeezing it lightly. "Having a family, having faith and love - it's the only way to get through."

"Miss Frost," a low voice called from a room nearby. Elsa led Emma to a small office, smiling at the large Angel who stood on one side of a desk. He returned her smile, until Emma met his eyes. His frown was slow, not suiting his features, even when his blue eyes sharply laser focused on Emma's rotund body. She could see his muscles tense, his golden tinged wings giving the smallest of flutters. "Miss Swan."

"I'll leave you both to it, then." Elsa smiled, inspector Jones weakly returning it as she closed the door to them.

Emma sat in the only chair on her side of the desk, landing with an audible noise in surprise. Her body was heavier now. Of course sitting felt wrong. Jones grunted before sitting in his chair, his presence formidable even with his wings unopened. He began jotting down notes, not looking up at her for a long, stretched pause of silence. Emma fidgeted uncomfortably, one foot bouncing on the floor.

"Stop that at once," Liam growled, his eyes narrowed.

Emma stopped, hissing out a nervous laugh. "Sorry, I just -"

"How did this happen?" Liam interrupted, gesturing at her with clear disgust. "Dr. Mullins indicates it was against your will? You haven't been sexually active to induce conception? Explain."

"Well, I um -"

"And I must remind you Miss Swan," Liam grimaced, marking something on his paper. "Lying to me is a crime itself. Perjury."

"Yes, I uh - I know." Emma nodded with a gulp. She took a breath, centering herself, and began to tell him the entire story of what had taken place with Gothel. He listened in absolute silence, writing the entire time as his frown only deepened. When she had finished, he continued writing in the oppressive silence, until finally flicking his eyes up to glare at her again.

"Is that all, Miss Swan?"

"Yes, then I, um, got the cramps -"

"Spare me the sordid details of the consequences your illegal activity most likely caused," Liam drawled, sarcastically. He leveled his angry, burning gaze at her, and she felt like an animal being cornered by much larger prey. "Now, I have some questions for you. Answer to the best of your ability, but remember -"

"Do not lie, yeah I remember," Emma said softly.

"Who says you Witches can't be taught," Liam sneered, his voice mocking. Emma felt irritation bubble up in her gut, her surprise that Elsa liked this asshole rising. If he was a good inspector, Emma never wanted to meet a bad one. "Now. What exactly did this Gothel ask of you in exchange for her firstborn?"

"Youthful beauty and a long life, I think," Emma stated, thinking hard. "She wanted to be young forever. I told her that it wouldn't be instant or eternal, that she would have to wait. Now I know why it didn't bother her."

"Did she mention any other rituals, Miss Swan?" Liam asked.

"No, but she did say that she was in a time crunch." Emma shrugged slightly. "I don't know if that means anything."

Liam looked at her with more vehemence, still writing furiously. "Did you feel any effects at that time?"

"No, I was surprised I didn't with the amount of magic that detonated. I checked myself twice to make sure, once with a warding bind even." The strangeness of the situation and her clear confusion due to it made her voice sound foreign to Emma's own ears. Did he know how much she didn't want this? "Nothing. Then boom, today I - today this. She showed her true colors at the end, did an evil laugh and everything."

Liam hummed disapprovingly, looking over his notes. Flicking his eyes back to hers, he glared with contempt. "Let me make sure I have this all correct. So, you and this other Witch do a forbidden and illegal ritual -"

"I had no idea it was going to be this illegal, I swear!" Emma began to feel panic, her heart racing. "I thought I was helping -"

"Sure, sure, even though you already have a record -"

"That was - That was different, I was set up and I -"

"It seems like you are awfully good at being set up, Miss Swan. So what did you get out of this?" The inspector looked at her in disgust, folding his arms against his chest. "A Demon child to experiment on? Heightened powers?"

"No! No, I had no idea she would - I didn't know - I thought later on that she'd give me her unwanted child. I didn't want another kid to be unwanted. I didn't know the parentage - "

The inspector interrupted with a loud scoff, leaning forward and leering at her. "Likely bloody story."

"Detective Inspector Jones, I swear to you, I swear it - I had no idea what… I had no idea this would happen. I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to get pregnant, I still don't know what to do."

"If it is a Demonic child, even only a half-breed, the best thing to do is give them up." Something painful twisted in her gut, a deep feeling of dread and wrongness.

"I can't, I want to think about it and wait to look at options -"

"You can . You should . It will get easier the longer you are separated from the leeching thing." Liam's sneer turned into a look of pure disgust. "Don't wait, and get it out of you before it completely ensnares you in its unholy thrall."

"It's a child, sir, and my choice. I'm not making any promises -"

"No Demon has ever been innocent, not even a baby. They are inherently selfish, cruel, and angry. Your mixed breed baby will be the same." Liam looked down at his feet, his fingers interlaced as he rested his elbows on his knees. His voice had lost the cruel edge, and Emma felt her superpower activate. He didn't believe what he was saying, and as she watched him, she noticed how tired he looked.

"Inspector, are... Are you alright?"

"Miss Swan," Liam chuckled darkly, pinching the bridge of his nose before glancing up to look at her. "If I was in your position, I would worry about myself, especially if jail time was on the table."

Emma felt as if he'd slapped her, air rushing from her lungs as her heart beat rapidly.

"Jail time?" She asked in disbelief, "What about Gothel? Why are you demonizing me -"

"That is government business, Miss Swan." Liam stood stiffly, rummaging in his pocket. He fished out a card, carefully sliding it on the table towards her. "If you remember anything, contact us. Otherwise, we will be in touch. I'll have the nurse give you the proper paperwork and instructional pamphlets."

He turned, pushed the curtain aside, and Emma heard a soft whoosh of air indicating his exit. Looking down at her body under the scrubs, she cursed Eloise with every fiber of her being.

ﾟ・. ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

The first few nights were a string of blurry, anger, and grief strewn rampages. Elsa has taken her home, Emma unwilling to let David even see her until she had some space to take care of herself. She had sent a text, and after a lot of back and forth arguing surrounding his lengthy replies, David had conceded.

(She just couldn't right now.

Not right now. Not yet.)

A Celestial, or something similar. Most likely Demon, he had said.

Gothel had not only gotten her pregnant, but with some Demon child that could be claimed by its monstrous father for who knew what awful reason. Emma shuddered at the thought, hands protectively resting on her small swell of stomach. Pulling them away as they trembled, she cursed her body and the invader that was making her feel so attached to it. Demons didn't exactly get along with any of the other demographics, but Witches and Demons had the most volatile relations amongst any of them. Her own child might grow to hate her, all because of how much Witches persecuted Demon kind.

She could still… No. She would not terminate the baby this far along. Every part of her vibrated with the wrongness of the very idea, sending her retching into the kitchen sink. She gripped both sides of the basin, crying hot, angry tears as she came to terms with the parasite - the baby, the small baby, the life - occupying her body. As much as she tried to hate it, the only hate she could muster fell on herself and Eloise.

Part of her felt crazed, crying in her bathtub, nauseated and afraid of every implication and outcome. Laying her head back on the tile, she wondered about what she was going to do. Rubbing her new bump slowly, Emma traced the curve. Sixteen months. A doubly long second trimester, and extended third, all while it changed with her body. Mixed children generally presented like their non-Demonic parent, and the pregnancy bond would be fierce regardless of species. Although it was doubtful at this point it was even in effect despite her behavior and thoughts, Emma smiled at the thought that she already felt attached to her baby. Her own family.

Her brother was going to go insane, and her sister-in-law… Snow was always supportive and full of a positive outlook. Emma had teased her that it was an Elf thing, but her pointed ears would twitch as she blushed, and she'd mumble something about her plants helping. Smoking her pungent blends of cannabis could make anyone positive, and Emma was suddenly envious.

Regina and the coven would be on the defensive, taking over everything in Emma's life without quarter. That would be another comfort, their careful planning and patience having gotten her this far through her difficult life.

In the end, the coven, Ruby, and Snow were over shortly after her emergency summons, flying through her doorway. Ruby was a Werewolf Emma had befriended through Snow. While Regina disliked her, Emma didn't think she was any different than most humans other than her keen sense of smell and bluntness. It was these traits that immediately made it clear what was wrong. It would seem not everyone in their circles knew yet. That would take a few more days.

“Emma,” Ruby whispered, horrified, her nose wrinkling as tears filled her eyes. “What did… Who did this to you?”

"They think it is a Demon, but it's almost definitely Celestial, or something with a dynamic gestational period due to magic." Just behind Ruby, the rest of the coven began appearing, all staring on her porch as Emma ushered them in. "Until I find out the father, I don't know, although most likely it's Demonic."

Regina's head snapped up. “A Demon? Emma, what do you mean dynamic -”

The women went quiet when Emma lifted her shirt to show them her bump, explaining everything.

Emma laid her head in Snow’s lap after, feeling numb. Snow stroked her hair gently, looking at the others. Their coven was small, mostly women, but David and two other men were honorary members by means of dating or marriage. Anna picked at her braid, eyes wide, while Belle's mouth was still open from her earlier gasp. Mulan, Regina, and Merida were all business.

“I'll hunt the Witch and her Demon pet down myself, and bring him back here. We can take turns peeling away his skin -”

“Mulan,” Merida hissed, her curls bouncing when she nodded her head at Emma, who's eyes were welling with tears once again.

“I thought… I thought I was doing something good ,” Emma burst into tears, sobbing into Snow, and Belle excused herself to fetch the whistling kettle from the stove. Pouring everyone tea, they tried to figure out what to do.

“Well, you certainly can't go hunting skips,” Regina scoffed. “And this house, I mean, I get that you fixed it up but it's a dump -”

“Oh! David would be happy to have you back on the farm with us!” Snow lit up, but the thought of being around their saccharine relationship and the smell of incense, patchouli, and skunky smelling herb had her running for the toilet. The others talked and sipped tea, planning out things as Emma curled up on her bath mat. Maybe it was better to terminate, if the leap in growth hadn't made it too late. Would it be better to give it up? Her mind filled with swirling ideas, and Emma let herself get lost in her sadness.

Ruby snuck in a moment later, sitting next to Emma quietly.

“So,” she whispered quietly, and Emma cracked open an eye to look at her friend's face.

“So,” Emma rasped back, her throat raw.

“Apparently, you're going to go live with Regina in the Guest ‘Wing’, yes, not room, ‘Wing’, and work at one of Belle’s bookstores. I tried to chime in with what your input might sound like. They looked at me as if I'd eaten Anna's familiar. Not like Elsa would let me snack on knock-off Rudolph anyway. Miss Ice Queen has her fancy new council to lord over, so who knows. We could have some reindeer snacks.”

Emma snorted, a smile breaking across her face.

“Look,” Ruby started, running a hand through her hair to push back her straight brunette style. ”I know how important it was for you to be independent, Emma. I know you really cared about Neal, too. I just… There's something… There's something really off with this situation, and it's not just my nose saying that you smell weird, like dark magic weird, or my gut saying a Witch that makes contracts with Demons for a baby, knocks you up, then just up and vanishes is bad news. I want you to be safe. I called Graham on your telephone, and there's an opening at his precinct I think you might like. It’s mostly paperwork -”

“Rubes!” Emma laughed despite herself. “That's awesome, thank you-”

“Just listen. I want to meet this… Demon. I still have this feeling like something is really off, and you're neck deep in danger. Besides, you know, the Demon part of the situation. Are you sure that you can't remember, er… Well. You know?”

“No, it was literally one minute I was fine, then the next the worst period cramps of my life while I inflated. I was sort of Instant Knocked Up, just add magic or whatever.” Emma rubbed her temples, and Ruby sighed.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, Granny says that's most likely how I was conceived too.” Ruby flashed her a smile, and Emma laughed, hugging her friend tightly.

“I don't know what I would do without you, Rubes.”

“Look, I'm pretty sure Graham isn't into a menage et trois with a preggo, but I'll broach the subject.”

“You're ridiculous,” Emma laughed.

“You wouldn't have it any other way.”

ﾟ・. ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

Months passed slowly as Emma waited for the other shoe to drop. Work at the station was easy, filing reports and making coffee not troublesome at all. Liam apparently worked somewhere in the massive complex, but Emma made no moves to seek him out or head to the detective offices.

Her house was almost completely redone and brand new; the floors, walls, ceilings, and everything in between redone with the utmost care.

("I refuse to let you live like this and represent our coven," Regina ran a finger along the mantelpiece, grimacing when it came up dirty. "Are you sure that you have to live here?"

"What Regina means," Elsa shot her a glare as Regina shrugged, rubbing her fingers together, "Is that any of us would love to have you. Don't feel obligated to stay -"

"But don't feel like you have to leave either. David and I would love to help you fix up the place, maybe have you make a few rooms?" Snow encouraged. David nodded, his arms crossed across his chest.

Elsa clapped her hands excitedly. "Oh yes, you could make an apothecary room like the one you talked about, and a potion brewing room, a nice place to grow plants, a library -"

"And we'd all pitch in, if you wanted to make a nursery?" Mary Margaret mumbled, almost shyly. "I wanted to throw a baby shower for you since we found out, but I didn't want to overwhelm you like I feel like I always do -"

"Too late," Emma gritted under her breath, her friends already planning the event for her.)

Emma actually had eased into the idea; at first it seemed absurd that they were planning for this when the whole situation was so strange. The father was still unaccounted for, even as the test results made it clear that the baby was of Demonic parentage. Sometimes Emma thought she could feel something, a little tug, the eerie feeling of being watched, or an emotion that wasn't hers flitting through her mind, but she dismissed them easily. More often, she was fascinated by the lack of information on the bond her and this child were supposed to have.

Pouring over books, it was as if someone had removed or rewritten any passages about Demonic parenting, specifically with a non Demon parent. She had found minor information on the bond in a few books. It was supposed to be fierce, the instinct making women hysterical and unreasonable. It only got more intense when the father was around, cases of actions deemed feral surrounding the mixed couples she had managed to find. All of them had ended in tragedy, and Emma eventually found herself unable to stomach reading about them.

Or anything really, food was enemy number one on baby's list, unless it was deep fried, covered in sugar, or drenched in sweetness. Without shame, Emma had managed to eat and keep down an entire jar of marmalade with crackers.

When Snow, Elsa, and Ruby's grandmother had brought up the food options they would make if Emma would let them throw her a shower, she had caved.

( "I will make you a bear claw cake, mini grilled cheese, and onion rings, amongst other things," Granny grinned. "And I will crochet you the most darling blanket for your little girl."

Emma tried not to drool, or give in. "That's nice, but I don't think I want that many people here, you know? That detective is watching my every move, I feel like a whale, I never know which food will agree with me -"

"And I will make sure I have a never-ending hot chocolate drip for you." Granny's eyes twinkled, full of mischief. "With toppings."

"Including cinnamon?" Emma asked, unable to disguise the longing in her voice. Granny nodded firmly. "How did you know? Wait - did you say a girl -"

"I just know," she shrugged. "Call it a wolf's intuition." )

It was supposed to be small, just a few people and family, but somehow it had turned into a full on social event. Emma was grateful that she had added a few rooms in the days before, the space sorely needed regardless of how drained she felt. Even still, she loved the house. It actually felt like hers, the exposed beams and vintage fixtures mixed with tapestries, framed art, and treasured photos. Her herbs dried above a large sink, food was spread along a long bar and buffet sideboard, and people milled around her living room that she had adjoined to two more exact copies through her doors.

No need to be original there.

( Her private door stayed tucked away in the upstairs hallway, and it was unable to be unlocked by anyone but her.

That was more important than a few extra rooms she could collapse after these people were gone. )

Emma was a good sport for the first couple of hours, playing games, being paraded around to people who apparently were important in the city, and sipping hot cocoa. Elsa, Regina, Mulan, and Snow were putting emphasis on her innocence, and although it was a spectacle, Emma hoped it would work.

Two very terrible things ruined her mood.

At some point, Elsa fell away from Emma's side, returning as cake was being cut. Her face was pinched, irritability written across it as she glared down at the slice she's given.

"You okay?" Emma whispered, and Elsa blinked, looking up in surprise.

"Oh, yeah. I just - I thought my date might show up, but he's working." Elsa gritted out the last word, anger seeping into it. "He's on this case, and it's important to him because it's family related, but I want him to understand that I have family too, and I could help if he just -" Throwing up her hands, Elsa groaned in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know anything about -"

"Emma," David pulled her up by her arm, looking around as if checking for something. "Kitchen. Now."

There's no time to protest, his grip strong and firm, dragging her into the kitchen.

"David, what the fu -"

"That detective was here, asking about you," Regina hissed, pointing out towards where guests milled. "We made sure he left, but he was asking questions."

"Questions?" Emma repeated, fear gripping her. Elsa walked in, listening to the conversation beside her.

"Like, if you had a history of criminality, if you knew and associated with undesirable magic users, if you knew who the father was or were protecting who did this to you," David said. The stillness around them seemed to tense just as they were.

"If he questions you, you make sure to tell him that you know nothing," Elsa whispered, trying to hold her hand. "Make sure you proclaim your innocence, and he'll believe you, he has to -"

"You think I haven't tried?" Emma ripped her hand away, looking at all of her friends with annoyance. "I agreed to this not knowing it was going to serve as some bullshit trial ball, where I'd be judged like this. I've searched everywhere for that woman, I have nothing to hide. She's disappeared, and not like a new identity in Guam disappeared, no. Like, off every plane of existence without a trace. It wouldn't matter if I did find her, because this is my kid. The bonds of the spell make her of my blood more and more every day. I can't just go back to the way things were - "

"What about the father?" Regina asked.

"I don't know. I know nothing about him or why he hasn't come. As far as I know, he might not. I don't know how he couldn't feel these binds. I know I feel something, but it could be because I'm practically mooing, I'm so huge, and I have these crazy urges. The hormones alone here are making me feel insane, even before you started in on me. Even before that asshole showed up because we have the entire damn city here!"

"I told you this was a bad idea, Regina," Snow mumbled. Regina glared in return.

"We - I just want you to know that no one will judge you for not wanting this, or for giving up the baby -" David said weakly.

"Shut up David," Emma growled out. Her hands rested against her stomach and she felt like she was going to fall over. "Right now, shut up and do not go down that road."

"Emma, it's making you feel attached," Regina said gently. "And if I'm agreeing with him, you know I - "

"I mean it, not another word. I'm keeping my baby, that's it. End all, be all. Say another word and I will curse your tomatoes," She pointed at David, then rounded on Regina. "And hex your wardrobe with bleach stains that don't come out. Try me."

"Fine!" Regina threw up her hands while David grunted.

The kitchen went silent, the tension palpable.

"We got you a really nice layette," Snow offered, trying to clear the awkwardness while smiling. "Come open gifts, and look at all this cuteness. "

Emma begrudgingly moved forward, her eyes widening at the mountain of gifts in front of her.

"Don't worry," Anna whispered as she pulled Emma down to sit. "I'm writing your thank you cards for you."

The crowd thinned after gifts, the night trickling on as the house emptied. If Emma had felt drained before, now she felt completely devoid of energy. The small crowd that's left hadn't bothered her, so when Snow and Regina asked her to do another walk about with them, it seemed safe enough.

She saw him out of the corner of her eye, his head nodding, laughing at something in his self absorbed sly little chuckle that makes her want to break his nose. She must have tensed because Snow was beside her and sucking in breath harshly through her teeth, the coven turning as if they could all feel the disturbance.

( Maybe they can, maybe the unbridled audacity of this man being here with another woman as he laughs with a martini glass in his hand is enough to share one collective experience of hatred. His eyes meet hers and he gives her a smirk that screams pity and humor at her expense as he lifts his glass toward her, mouthing congrats )

A figure cut in front of her, and her rage that feels like a sickening punch in the gut is coupled by this smack in the face - Neal's father grinned at her, his cane on the ground while both hands rest on its handle.

"My my my, Miss Swan," Gold smirked the same smirk that she wants to rip off his face. "When we heard, we were so surprised to not receive an invitation to this… quaint event of yours. Truly poor manners when our covens are no longer supposed to be at odds."

Regina and Elsa were there in front of her in a flash, Snow pulling her away, words being exchanged in hissed tones. Emma could barely hear over her heartbeat, over the sound of her stomach screaming at her to vomit.

"You can protect her all you want, but we know what she did. We know what it will be," Gold's voice slithered over her skin even in the bathroom. "You can't redeem her, and she will be the reason for all of your downfall. Enjoy your council while it lasts."

David shooed everyone out when Emma hastily retreated, the entirety of her patchwork family pushing inside to comfort her.

ﾟ・. ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

After the disaster of her shower, Emma began to feel the strange feeling of being watched even more. It became especially noticeable at night when she rocked in the nursery, sorting out piles of gifts. It felt like a presence sat beside her or hovered over her shoulder, and it began to follow her into her dreams.

They didn’t last after she woke, glimpses of a mirror, of the sound of pounding, a muffled voice that she can't make out.

The tip of the weird iceberg happened when Emma had gotten out of the shower, the steam in the room rising to fog the mirror. Dressing in pj's and heading back in to blow dry her hair, she had been dancing along to some new pop song by the Wolves of London, when her eyes caught the words.

On the fog of the mirror, her name had appeared backwards, joined shortly by the word 'Help' in a curling script that she blinked at in confusion before they disappeared.

( A baby, a Witch, and a Ghost. Just what she needs in the never ending chaos that has become her life )

Luckily, the Coven can save her ass again.

Regina glared at Emma, her judging silence lay heavily over the room. She crossed her arms, eyebrows pinching into further scorn, before asking again.

"You want me to do what?"

"Look, I know it's not your favorite thing to do, but you can and I don't have the gift or a guide like you do -"

"That doesn't make it any easier!" Regina threw up her hands, then gestured to her pantsuit clad form. "It's my body, and my mother is just -"

"I am begging you, Reg. Begging. You." Emma moaned, irritated. "The father is a complete mystery, there's a ghost in my house that I think has to do with him, and I'm scared it could be someone like…" Trailing off, she chewed her lip.

Liam's increasing push for her to choose adoption had thrown her off her game these last few weeks, his phone calls almost non stop. In a way, he was right. She wasn't the only parent, and she certainly wasn't ready to be a mom. She was no one, absolutely nothing. It wasn't as if she could raise a baby.

(Even if she wanted to, and the idea of her baby, her family enveloped in the family she chose and created, it made her feel nothing but happiness)

Regina rolled her eyes with a huff. "Fine. Fine!" she snapped, slamming her hands on the table. "I do this for you, and you owe me. I expect you to be at my whim for this."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And I'm not doing it for long." She shuddered. "Every time I check out and she checks in, I feel so just -" She shuddered again, making a gagging noise.

(Regina had done it before for David and her, to say goodbye to Ruth. It had hurt, hurt so badly, but not as much as Cora cutting the reunion short to tell her daughter to do more cardio.)

"I promise, we find his grandma or cousin or somebody, maybe whoever wrote that on my mirror, get the lead, and we're done." Emma nodded.

With another sigh, Regina laid her hands over the table, palms up, and Emma laid her own over them. A lavender spark shot from their joined hands to the air above them, Regina's head falling back while purple smoke began to pour around the table, permeating the air. Regina shook slightly, before violently snapping her head forward and blinking.

"Emma Swan, to what do I owe the pleasure of being ripped from my study?" A higher, nasal, woman's voice spoke out from Regina's mouth. "My daughter feels chubbier, and her skin is just -" Regina touched her face, making clucks with her tongue. "Oh, she is a mess! Did she break it off with that awful Warlock? Ugh, is she stress eating? I try not to pry, but I know she ate at least one slice of chocolate cake when she was out this last week -"

"Cora," Emma gritted out, closing her eyes in frustration. "Cora, Regina is fine. If she wants to discuss her love life with you, she'll call you up on the Ouija. I need your help to find someone, and I don't know the someone."

"Well, aren't you in a pickle."

"Please Cora, it's not just for me!"

"Oh, you're not interested in Regina are you? Because you are much too low a class for her breeding -"

"Oh Merlin, no, no!"

"What is it then?" Cora sighed in a bored drawl. "I've told you I can't find your family if they don't want anything to do with you, I -"

"No." Emma let her chest fall, speaking quietly. "No it's not that. I remember from last time and I have a family now." Emma took a deep breath, pushing back against the hurt in her chest. "I need to know… I need to know who the father is, and I'm having trouble. I need you to see if you can reach a relative, or friend, or someone who knows why his offspring is inside me, as well as what it is. I got a visit from a ghost, so here we are."

"Oooooh!" Cora squealed. "An enceinte pregnancy Miss Swan? An illegitimate baby? A haunting? How very risqué and daring on your salary!"

"Cora!"

"Fine, I'll check. I'll want the details of this though, so don't spare any of the juicy bits." Cora winked with Regina's face, before the woman's body went slack. After a minute, her head lifted back up, blinking slightly. "Well, Emma, what a doozy this is. This woman will not stop talking, and it's absolutely ridiculous how impossible she's being, even if she is ancient looking. Yes, I said ancient looking - well don't get mad at me, I tell it how it is - oh, I don't care who your son is, he can't be that grand if he's knocked up this wreck. Sorry Emma dear, I love you, but I mean," Cora shrugged, unabashedly.

"Cora, ask her what her name is!" Emma hissed.

"What's your name then? Oh, that's interesting. Not as good as Cora, or Regina -"

"Cora!"

"It's Milah. And she's not his mum, she's - oh he's an ex lover of yours? Juicy juicy! Sounds like Emma dear might be getting leftovers then? Oh don't be like that -"

"I need a name Cora, this is so -"

"I'm trying Emma dear, the woman won't shut up about her sweetheart. No - Really? The scandal, but - well that is so weird! Milah says that he's been hidden somewhere and no one is haunting you, but… Ugh! She's speaking so rapidly - yes, I get it, but if he wants the kid he would have come to get it, or - I am listening to you, you're not listening to me! A mirror? You should look at one, why do I have to tell her about a mirror? I mean Emma's at most average, and look at her figure now. A child will do that to you." Cora sighed, and Emma stiffened. Cora seemed to nod for a moment, before Regina's face soured further.

"Don't get smart with me, you may be an old soul but you died far younger than I did!" Cora growled, her eyes slitting at some unseen target. She turned with her head cocked, looking at Emma with pity. "I'm sorry Emma, sweet little duckling, but this woman is a nightmare. She keeps screaming at me about how this Killian fellow is the father, but it's impossible for her to see him for whatever reason. Something about a mirror? She's also absolutely ancient, I haven't seen clothing like that outside of - Pre-Babylon? Is that the robe designer or…? Don't look at me like that miss bed sheet toga, I - Emma, this woman, I swear! It's just incessant chattering, really - "

"His name is Killian? Cora, wait, don't you -"

"I understand that you were crazy in love with him, trust me, you seem crazy Milah dear. Yes, Killian is his name. A Demon of lust for vengeance. Wow, Emma, what a winner!" Cora snickered, and Emma resisted the urge to shriek. "Well, I don't care if the beast is misunderstood, he's a Demon. How touching, now please - oh come now, Gothel in the tower with the mirror? Red spire, Troll falls? What is this, Clue? Do I look like a detective?" Regina's eyes rolled, Emma desperately trying to remember the snippets that might make sense. Gothel, tower, mirror, red spire, troll falls. Killian.

Cora grew louder, her voice rising in pitch.

"Oh, how dare you! I'll have you know your cheap robes aren't exactly chic either; you need a wardrobe update, badly! You look like a ten cent frat party attendee!" Cora spat, and Regina's face pinched tight. "Excuse me? More important things, WELL , I never - Oh you rude little tart, I've had enough!"

"Please Cora, no, I -" Emma attempted, but Cora flipped Regina's hair back, sniffing with haughty indignation.

"It'll be alright Emma, duckling. It seems that your little orphan persona is perfect to parent this little babe! Shut up! No, I'm done with you, you crazy broad. Go back to Bed, Bath, and Beyond and buy some new linens!" Cora hissed, her mouth curled in an ugly snarl. "Anyways, Emma, just accept that you can't ruin a child to be like you if you're giving them a home, even if their father is some failed Demon. Or something inspirational, I don't know." She shrugged, Regina's shoulders going up in a blasé dismissal. Her eyes snapped to look behind Emma, her face contorted in rage.

"Cora. I am begging you - " Emma tried again, but Cora's focus was elsewhere, on someone unheard and unseen.

"Shut it, shut up thread count Cleopatra!" Turning back to Emma, she smiled serenely. "Tell Regina to summon me later, I need to know how she is. And tell her no more sweets, especially if she ever wants to be a wife. Ta!"

Regina fell forwards, her body shuddering as the lights flickered, purple smoke dissipating into the air. She moaned lowly, cracking her shoulders and neck as she rolled backwards.

"Dammit!" Emma exclaimed, sitting up and violently stalking to the fridge. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!"

"Ugh, I can taste her perfume. Bring me a beer please," Regina groaned. Emma pulled a beer and a soda out of the fridge, giving the beer to Regina. "Emma, don't you ever say that I don't love you after that." Regina shuddered again, flicking her hand to open the beer and drinking down half of it in one go.

"I know you do. You just have… You're just abrasive with it. Like a big cat, or an alligator."

(Or a wood chipper wearing lipstick)

"Shut up, and tell me how it went. Was it worth it? Mother never is, but -"

"She, uh, well she got me some information to go on. So, that's something." Emma averted her gaze, licking her lips.

"She talked about my weight, didn't she," Regina sighed. When Emma said nothing Regina drank the rest of the beer and walked to the kitchen, depositing it in the trash. Pulling out a wine glass, she reached under her cabinet and produced a bottle of wine. Emma raised an eyebrow. "Don't even start on me."

"I wasn't going to," Emma whispered.

Laying her palms flat on the countertop and bowing her head, Regina looked up after a moment's pause.

"So, what now?" She asked.

Emma chewed on her lip, thinking hard. "I have his name, or at least I think I do. I think all that's left is to, well, summon him."

(Summon him, and say what? 'Hey, Mr. Demon, I'm having your kid and thought you might like to know', as if it would care, or want anything to do with her...)

Regina's eyebrows shot up. "Not alone, surely -"

"No. I would ask Snow, David, and maybe Mulan and Belle. I know Belle would be delighted, and she has the spellbooks."

"That actually sounds like a relatively good plan." Regina nodded, then took a sip of her wine.

"Don't sound so shocked, Regina." Emma grumbled.

"Miss Swan," Regina smirked, swirling the wine in her glass before taking another sip. "If you ever cease to stop shocking me with your antics, I'll assume I have gone to meet my mother and maker."

#Courtorderedcake #September #2020 #September 1st 2020 #cssns #CSSNS 2020 #captain swan au #captain swan #captain swan fanfiction #cs ff au #CS FF #My writing #MTFB #1st

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