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horanghaejamjam · 1 year ago

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Jigsaw - {CS}

↪ Summary: You are the lead detective in an investigation surrounding one of the most infamous killers the city has ever seen. Unfortunately for you, Jigsaw knows you're onto him and has played you like a game at every turn, threatening the case and your status. Your determination to catch him finally gets you a lead, only for you to find yourself tangled in a special trap that he designed just for you. Let the game begin.

↪ Pairings: Jigsaw Killer Choi San x Female Detective Reader

↪ Rating: M 18+

↪ Genre: Non-idol/Slasher/Horror movie au/ Suggestive / Fluff/Friends to enemies to lovers

↪ Word Count: 5.7k

↪ Warnings/Contents: References to classic horror movies, mainly Saw, Silence of the Lambs, and Scream. Mentions of death/murder/being shot (not detailed). Seonghwa and Mingi both make cameos in this story with a few other members being mentioned. Swearing and implied smut (MDNI). San being a teasing little shit, makeout sessions, fondling over clothes.

↪ Side Notes: To the wonderful @pinkywritings hi darling I was your assigned Ghost Writer for the @atinyhalloweenproject. This is my first time writing for San and I had a lot of fun with it so I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it is so late I wanted to have it out by Halloween but due to the sudden weather change we haven't had power. I tried to make it longer to make up for that so hopefully it doesn't feel rushed and was worth the wait!

I honestly may do a part two to this or an expansion later on because I love the idea of Jigsaw San but we'll see.

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“Police officials are seeking any leads in identifying the man known only to the public as the Jigsaw killer. He is believed to be linked in multiple disappearances and murders that have taken place around Seoul for the past three months. The victims were all found in various handmade traps and had a puzzle piece drawn somewhere visible on their body. At this time investigators have no leads and are asking the public for any knowledge they may have on this public threat.”

The reporter's voice faded to nothing as the volume on the TV was lowered to zero. You groaned softly to yourself as you tossed the remote to the side, running your hands through your hair as you sat forward on your couch. It had been just over a month since you were assigned the Jigsaw murder case, the last detective backing out after the man in question threatened to target his family. The case was quickly transferred over to you, one of the best detectives in your field, but it was very quickly starting to test your patience.

Whoever this Jigsaw was, he was a clever man. He left no trace, no evidence, nothing that would allow you to track him down. You went through surveillance, interviewed the family and friends of the victims, tried breaking down his traps for any clues, but any lead always led you right back to square one. You had tried to be patient, hoping that eventually he would slip up and give you something, but it was starting to sound like wishful thinking. Even worse, he knew who you were and started calling you out directly. You would find notes addressed to you, pictures, voice messages, all calling you out and taunting you. It was like he was playing some cruel game with you and you had no choice but to play along or risk losing everything. You couldn’t even walk to work anymore without some reporter chasing you down demanding an explanation or any evidence you had in the case. It came to a point where you only went to the office when called, and the rest of your work you did from home.

Various evidence pictures and case files were thrown across your coffee table, a few rough notes scribbled in between. You had been looking at the same files for the past couple of hours, dissecting every last word to see if you had missed any connections. Your last victim had been found 72 hours ago, and you knew you only had a day at most before the next one. There were a few things you had discovered about Jigsaw, and the main one was that he worked on a schedule. Once someone was reported missing, it would be three days before their body turned up and the cycle would start again. Whoever this man was, he clearly enjoyed his patterns, and that is what you found yourself looking for, any pattern you may have missed.

“Working from home again I see?” you practically jumped out of your skin as you heard the deep voice of your roommate behind you, turning around to see his tall frame leaning over the couch.

“For Fucks sake Mingi you almost gave me a heart attack!” you whined, reaching up to lightly smack at him, “what are you doing here anyways I thought you weren’t coming home tonight.” You and Mingi had been friends for as long as you could remember, having met back in high school and staying together through college and your time at the police academy. He was like a brother to you at this point and you trusted him so you didn’t mind if he saw your work, even if he technically wasn’t supposed to. Mingi always found your work to be fascinating and would bug you randomly about cases, which only grew more when you started investigating Jigsaw, though you assumed it was just because you got to bring your work home now. Just as you predicted, he made his way to the other side of the couch and took a seat next to you, picking up one of the crime scene photos to get a better look.

“I was going to stay at Yunhos tonight but something came up and he had to cancel,” Mingi explained, running his thumb over the picture he was holding, “ouch this looks like it would have been painful, what is it?”

“That’s one of Jigsaw's latest traps,” you answered, snatching the photo away from him, “I’m looking through it to see if I can find any missing clues.”

“Have you found anything?”

“Sadly no, he’s very good at covering his tracks. It’s been a month and we still don’t have any leads on this guy, it’s like he’s a ghost or something.” Mingi hummed softly as he continued to look through all the pictures, careful not to mess them up knowing you would yell at him if he did.

“Now I’m no expert but, are you sure you’re only looking for one person?” he asked, catching you off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean all these crime scenes you’ve shown me have been pretty big and this says it only took three days, seems like a lot of work for one person if you ask me.” Mingi explained, “and that’s why your patterns wouldn’t line up like you want them to.” You blinked up at him dumbly for a moment as you processed his words, looking back down at the file you had basically memorized by this point. You didn’t want to admit it, but Mingi had a point.

“You know that’s actually not a bad idea,” you muttered.

“I can be helpful sometimes you know,” he bragged with a laugh, earning himself a punch to the shoulder. He didn’t have time to retaliate though as you were packing up all of your things and rushing towards the door, “Wait where are you going?”

“I need to check on something, don’t wait up for me!” you called back, pulling on your coat and running out the door as he called after you. In your rush you hadn’t realized that you dropped part of your case file on your way out, nor did you notice Mingi pulling out his phone to call someone as he closed the door to your apartment.

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You made it to the crime scene in no time, an abandoned warehouse located just on the edge of the city. You parked your car a bit away and pulled out a flashlight as you made your way inside, ducking under the caution tape and pulling your jacket closer to yourself as you looked around. The clean up crew had gotten most of the scene cleaned by now, but the trap itself was still there. A weirdly broken mess of chains and blades that you wouldn’t have been able to put back together if you wanted to, making you wonder how Jigsaw even came up with the idea in the first place. You shook the thought out of your head and made your way to one of the blades, leaning down to inspect it carefully. It was sharp with a curve to it, but almost messy in design as if it was handmade. To test that theory you took a look at another one and noticed the same thing except this one was thicker and less curved despite being set up the same way. The chains themselves were also a bit sloppy when you looked at them closely, almost as if they had been done in a rush. It wasn’t as clean as Jigsaw's normal work, and now Mingis suggestion that you were dealing with more than one culprit seemed more plausible.

You took your phone out to snap a picture just as the door to the warehouse opened, a new light pouring in and a familiar voice calling your name.

“Over here!” you called back, flashing your light in his direction so he could see you. Quick footsteps made their way towards you before a familiar figure came into view. Park Seonghwa, a senior detective that had transferred over to your department a little over a year ago and assigned as your partner. You had been against the idea at first since your original partner had been killed only a few weeks prior during an investigation gone wrong. The chief had insisted it would be for the best though since you needed the help and Seonghwas cool and more collected nature would balance you out nicely which would prove to be true. Your impulsiveness had driven the older detective crazy a few times, but for the most part the two of you got along well and you could even consider him a friend. He was wearing a long black coat and matching gloves and his hair was long and falling into his face rather than slicked up like normal, probably because he had been at home resting when you called him.

“Would you care to explain why you called me out here in the middle of the night when I haven’t heard from you in the last 48 hours?” Seonghwa questioned, unable to hide the annoyance in his tone.

“I’ll make it up to you but I figured this couldn’t wait,” you muttered, going back to inspect the chain again, “I’m trying to prove a theory about something.”

“That theory being?”

“What if Jigsaw isn't working alone?” you challenged, “what if it’s more than one person, that would explain why nothing lines up.” Seonghwas eyes widened a bit and you could have sworn you heard him mutter something under his breath, “what did you say?”

“Oh nothing,” he brushed you off, “what made you so convinced of this new theory? Did you find something?” You froze for a second, not wanting to expose yourself for letting a member of the general public view the case file.

“Just a hunch,” you lied, “but I mean look at the way this trap was built, it's messy compared to the others, almost as if it was made by someone else.”

“Or maybe Jigsaw just ran out of time and rushed on it,” he argued.

“Can you just humor me for five seconds Seonghwa,” you groaned, “maybe I’m wrong yes but isn’t it at least worth looking into?” Seonghwa rolled his eyes but gave in, walking to the other side of the trap to get a better look. You were too distracted by your own work to pay much attention to him, meticulously looking through every detail of the trap despite not actually knowing what you were looking for. Your instinct was telling you that there was something there you were overlooking, something that was hiding in plain sight, you just had to figure out what that was.

“Hey Y/N,” Seonghwa called out after a few minutes, “I think I found something.” Your head shot up and you quickly dusted yourself off before making your way over. Seonghwa was standing in the corner of the warehouse holding what looked to be a tape recorder. “I found it tucked away over here, may have gotten knocked around during the investigation,” he explained.

“Does it say anything?” you asked, taking the recorder from his hands and pressing the play button. There was only static for a moment before a robotic voice spoke up, like someone was speaking through a voice changer. Despite that, you couldn’t help but feel like the voice seemed familiar to you, but it was hard to tell through the editing.

“Hello Detective Y/L/N,” the tape addressed you, sending a chill through your body, “these past few weeks you have been running around in circles trying to discover who I am. You have been closer to the truth than you realize but you always end up blindsided by your work and, as a result, you overlook the answer that is right in front of you. I have enjoyed silently watching you up until this point but now it is getting quite boring so why don’t we make this a bit more fun? Do you like games, detective? I hope you do because I want to play a game with you. I have left a riddle for you, the answer to which will tell you all you need to know about who I am and what I do. You have 48 hours to find the riddle and tell me the answer or you will find yourself and those closest to you in a very undesirable situation. The timer starts the second this recording ends, let’s hope you are as clever as everyone says you are. Let the game begin.”

You felt your blood run cold as the tape came to an end, barely registering Seonghwas hand on your shoulder as you tried to process everything you just heard. Seonghwa tried talking to you but you ignored him, pushing his hand off and rushing back to your car, your partner not far behind you.

“Where are you going? We should report this to the office first!” he called after you.

“What good is reporting it going to do? You heard him Hwa I have 48 hours to figure out who this guy is or we’re all screwed, I can’t waste time.”

“So what you’re going to rush into something and get yourself killed?” he argued.

“Better than doing nothing and getting everyone else killed,” you snapped back, “now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find this riddle he’s talking about.” Seonghwa called after you again but by this point you had gotten in your car and were already making your way back to your apartment. Part of you felt like going home was a bad idea, but you also couldn’t help but feel like something was pulling you to go there. The same feeling of familiarity that you got hearing the tape returned, making you feel more and more uneasy as you pulled into your apartment complex. Like you knew who Jigsaw was and yet the image of his face was blurred any time you tried to imagine him.

Mingi didn’t seem to be home when you got back, his shoes were gone and the light was off. You couldn’t focus on that though, as your attention was drawn to the stack of papers placed neatly on your coffee table. You carefully walked over and looked through the pile, recognizing pictures from all the different crime scenes you had investigated so far, each one marked with red ink.

‘Y/N, doesn’t this random pattern seem a bit too random?’

‘This is quite close to home don’t you think?’

‘The truth has been in front of you the whole time.’

‘Why do I do what I do?’

‘Did you miss me?’

You ran your hand through your hair as you continued looking through the pictures, realizing that the riddle was basically going to send you on a scavenger hunt. It would take forever for you to go back through each crime scene and look back through everything to find out what he was talking about. Even worse, it was pretty late and you could feel exhaustion slowly taking over you, slouching over the coffee table and eventually laying against it as you fell asleep trying to decipher the riddle.

You were jolted awake by the sound of your phone vibrating, groaning softly as you sat up and reached into your pocket for the device. You half expected it to be a call from Mingi or Seonghwa, but instead you were greeted with the same robotic voice from the night before. Only this time, you were able to hear his actual voice a bit more and it was one you swore you had heard before.

“Good morning Sleeping Beauty, I hope my riddle didn’t keep you up all night,” the voice immediately woke you up, straightening your posture as you looked around.

“Who is this?” you asked.

“Aww I’m almost offended you don’t remember me, we go way back you know,” the voice responded, “I’ve missed you Y/N, and even if you don’t remember me now I know you miss me too.” You paused for a moment at his words before realizing now was not the time to worry about that.

“Why are you doing this?”

“That. my dear detective is for you to find out, you always did enjoy the thrill of a good challenge didn’t you? I figured you would have solved my puzzle by now but since I believe in giving people a fair chance I’ll give you another clue. One of those puzzle pieces doesn’t quite belong, once you find the answer I will be waiting for you in the place we last met, don’t keep me waiting Doll.” With that the call ended, causing you to groan in frustration and toss your phone to the side.

“I’ve had about enough of these damn games,” you huffed, rubbing your hands over your eyes. You looked through the pictures again before one in particular caught your eye. It wasn’t one of the Jigsaw crime scenes, but instead it was a picture of an older house, one that you recognized from your last murder investigation with your old partner, San. The memories slowly came back to you and that’s when it finally clicked for you, the puzzle and the reason the voice sounded so familiar to you. That was impossible though, San was dead, you had been at the hospital with him when the doctors told you there was nothing they could do. There was no way that San was still alive, and yet you would recognize his voice anywhere. Shaking your head, you grabbed your phone and stood up, calling Seonghwa and telling him to meet you at the house in question as you left your apartment and got in your car. The whole ride there you tried ignoring the feeling of dread that came over you, hoping that your intuition was wrong.

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Seonghwa was already at the house before you got there, leaning against the wall with a blank expression. “I take it you found the answer to your riddle?” he asked as you walked past him, leading him inside.

“As much as I hope I am wrong I think I did,” you confessed, “and if I’m right the clue we are looking for should be here somewhere.” Seonghwa stood still in the middle of the room as you frantically looked around, digging through his pocket and following your movements with his eyes.

“This isn’t one of the crime scenes,” he pointed out, “what exactly are we looking for?”

“Jigsaw said to find him at the place we last met and this place was the only one pictured that wasn’t one of the crime scenes,” you explained. Seonghwa hummed softly at your answer, but you ignored him as you continued looking around.

“Why here then, what’s so special about this place?” you froze for a moment at the question, an action that didn’t go unnoticed.

“This was the last place I investigated with my first partner,” you answered, “he was shot during the investigation and I thought he was dead but I’m starting to think I was wrong.”

“You think it’s him,” Seonghwa stated rather than asked, to which you nodded.

“I don’t know why he would do such a thing, but it all lines up.” Seonghwa sighed and glanced down at his watch before making his way towards you.

“I’m surprised you know, you solved the riddle faster than we thought you would, we’re a bit ahead of schedule.” His words made your blood run cold, freezing as your head turned to look at him.

“What did you just say?”

“I’m sorry about this Y/N,” Seonghwa apologized, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a syringe, “just know I don’t make the rules, I’m just the delivery guy.” Before you could react to his words he had grabbed you and injected you with what you assumed was some kind of anesthesia, your body going limp in his hold almost immediately and your vision going black. The last thing you remember hearing was his voice and footsteps approaching before you completely lost consciousness.

When you returned to consciousness the first thing that you noticed was that you couldn’t move. Your arms and legs were handcuffed to a chair that also appeared to be bolted to the floor so you couldn’t tip it over. Tugging at your restraints, you glanced around to find that you were in some sort of workshop, various trap parts and gadgets tossed around multiple workbenches. At the front of the room were what appeared to be security monitors, each watching different parts of the city that you could just barely make out.

“I have to hand it to you Y/N,” a voice said from behind you, “the last detective didn’t make it nearly as far.” The sound of footsteps echoed through the room before a figure appeared in your vision, wearing a full body red and black hood. Even though his face was covered by the hood, you could feel the presence of your former partner.

“How, I thought you were dead,” you whispered, not sure what to feel at the moment. In any other circumstance you would be over the moon to know he was alive, but how were you supposed to feel knowing he was the serial killer you had been anxiously tracking down. Shock, betrayal, anger, sadness, confusion, all of these emotions swirled through your brain like an endless whirlpool, pulling you in deeper and nearly bringing tears to your eyes.

“Everyone did,” San replied, turning away from you to face one of his work benches, “the doctors said it was a miracle, that no one thought I would make it through the night let alone make a full recovery.” You could hear him messing with something, but couldn’t see what it was, struggling to look past his shoulder as he continued talking, “I tried to find you after you know? I thought you were the only one left that cared about me, and yet even you managed to turn your back on me.”

“I always cared about you,” you argued, “that’s why I’m trying to understand why San, why did you do this?” It was at this point that he finally turned to face you, pulling the hood back so you could see him properly. He looked almost the same as you remembered, but there was a cold gaze in his eyes that almost made him feel like a stranger. This wasn’t the warm hearted and cheerful person you used to consider a friend, he was a killer. Despite this, however, you couldn’t help yourself from falling for his familiarity, almost as if you could convince yourself the old San was still in there, somewhere.

“You never realize just how valuable life is until you are inches away from death,” he explained, “the adrenaline and the fight to survive, it almost feels like you are being reborn. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how corrupt the world we live in truly is, because no one really knows how to appreciate the life they are given until it is nearly taken from them. You may not understand it now but trust me my methods will help make the world a better place.”

“You’re killing people because you want them to appreciate life?” you questioned, wondering if he was actually being serious. There was no way a person's mind could be that twisted, right?

“You think I’m a killer?” San asked, not needing a verbal response since your glare was enough confirmation, “that’s where you’re wrong you know. I have not killed anyone, all of my games are survivable as long as the player has the will to fight for it. Those who failed the games basically killed themselves.” You wanted to argue that putting people in these death traps still made him a killer but he cut you off, “Seven people have won so far, seven people who had that will to live and had the chance to be reborn. They understand what it truly means to be alive and now they help me spread my message. You may not understand me now, but I really do hope that you will be the next.”

“So what, am I the next person that gets to be put in one of your death traps then?” you groaned, tugging at your restraints. San pouted a bit but shook his head.

“Your game began the minute you took the case from Detective Kim,” he explained, “you and I always seemed to have an understanding so I had hoped you would pick up on my clues and join without a fight, but you were far too stubborn to listen. Eventually I had to cut my losses so I had my apprentices plant fake evidence to finally get you here, it was the only way.” Your heart dropped a bit at the word apprentices, your mind immediately going back to Seonghwa and how he was the one who brought you here.

“So you’re telling me the whole time,” you trailed off.

“Seonghwa was working for me, yes, Mingi as well, they both survived my games and agreed to help with the cause and when you took over my case I knew I could use them to guide you in the right direction,” San explained. He took a moment to glance at a clock on the wall before sighing and making his way over to you. San rested his hands on the arms of the chair and used them to prop himself up so he was leaning over you, “As much as I have enjoyed our little chat I’m afraid we do not have much time. I really do like you Y/N so I will give you a choice. Join me and together we can help change the world for the better.”

“And if I refuse?” you challenged.

“Well then I guess we’ll have to play a game,” he hummed, leaning away from you, “The second I walk out of this room it will lock and a timer will start. Behind you are two doors, each with a different combination, one door will lead you to the exit, and the other will lead you to me. If you choose to leave then you will be free but you will lose your chance to catch me. If you choose to come after me, then you have a chance to learn the truth at the risk of your freedom. The combinations are hidden in this room and you will have exactly one hour to find them and leave through the door of your choosing, and trust me you don’t want to know what will happen if you run out of time.” San chuckled softly before pulling away and walking behind you, “This is your last chance to accept my offer Y/N, I would hate to lose you like this.” He waited for a moment but when you didn’t respond he sighed, “Very well, let the game begin.” You felt him place something into your hand, which you quickly realized was a key, before the door slammed shut and San was gone.

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It didn’t take you long to unlock yourself, taking a second to rub your wrists as you stood up and made your way cautiously around the room. You did your best to stay calm and not look at the clock as you examined the doors and then looked around for the combinations, which you quickly realized were hidden on his tools. The question was, do you free yourself and turn your back on the case, or do you risk it all and try to go after San. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you to just get out of there and not look back, and yet you quickly found yourself moving on autopilot. Before you could really process what you were doing, you had entered the code for the door labeled “Truth” and ran through it, stepping into a dark hallway and letting the door lock behind you.

You took a moment to compose yourself before heading forward, placing your hands against the walls to help feel your way through the space. All the doors were locked until you came to one at the very end that was cracked open, revealing what looked to be a makeshift office space, with nothing but a desk and filing cabinet in the room. You poked your head through first, looking around for any sign of life before slowly stepping inside and making your way to the desk, only to gasp as you felt another body pin you to it.

“I knew you would come after me,” San whispered, spinning you around so that you were facing him. Your body was pressed between his and the desk, his arms caging you on either side as your eyes locked.

“I can’t let you get away with this,” you argued, trying to wiggle away from him but San was stronger so he held you in place.

“Come on Doll, you and I both know that’s not why you came after me,” he teased, “maybe it was at first but if that was the case now you would be fighting me harder.” He was right, even if he was stronger you knew you could at least hold your own enough to get him away or subdue him long enough to call for help. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to actually fight him off, struggling against him enough to save your pride but not enough to actually push him off. “So tell me,” San continued, “why did you really come after me, was it because you were curious about my work? Or, was it because deep down you missed me?” Honestly, you weren’t even sure if you knew the answer, your body having reacted before your mind could catch up.

“This isn’t right,” you argued, reaching your hands up to push at his shoulders.

“And yet here we are,” he teased, backing up enough to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him. Your bodies pressed together and your arms instinctually made their way around his neck which made him chuckle. “I always knew you were special, you understood me in a way that no one else ever did. Stay with me, nothing will be able to come between us.” San leaned down until your lips were centimeters apart, his breath tickling your lips with every word. You tried not to give into him, knowing that this was wrong, but you also couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you just from being near him. You had always cared for San when you two were partners, hell there was even a time where you could argue that you did have a crush on him. That was back then however, when he was the sweet and easy going detective that decorated his desk with mini plushies and would whine if you forgot to get him a pastry on your morning coffee runs. This version of San wasn’t like that, even if the allure was still there, he was cold, twisted, and a killer.

“I can’t do this,” you argued, “you’re not the man I once cared about.” You tried to turn your head away from him, but he gripped your chin to force you to look at him.

“Yes I am, behind all of this it is still me and I can prove that to you,” he whispered, “just let me show you.” When you shook your head again he huffed, loosening his grip for a moment before it tightened again, “Fine then, how about another game?”

“I already won your stupid game though!” you challenged.

“Yet you still haven’t learned,” he fought back, “the least you can do is give me a chance to convince you. If you don’t give in then I will go with you to the station and turn myself in, but if I win then you quit being a detective for good and you stay with me.” You gave him a questioning look, at this point more than positive that he had gone insane. However, if playing his dumb games meant putting an end to Jigsaw, then you were more than willing to oblige.

“Alright fine, deal,” you reluctantly agreed. You only had a moment to register Sans smirk before he was pulling you against him again and connecting your lips. One hand stayed pressed against your back to keep you against him, while the other tangled itself in your hair, tugging slightly to get a reaction out of you. The kiss wasn’t rough or forced like you had expected, instead it was gentle and passionate, like he wanted to take his time with you. His lips were surprisingly soft against yours, and you began to slowly melt against his movements. You kissed him back and allowed him to have more control, whining softly against his lips when he tugged a bit harder at your hair. Your own hands trailed down his body, tracing his shoulders and chest for a few moments before daring to go a bit lower. San groaned as he felt you palm him over his robe, tightening his grip on your hair and deepening the kiss as his own hand reached down to grab at your thighs and your ass.

All your resolve melted away at his touch and you found yourself giving into him completely, relishing in the way he invaded your senses. All rationality had left completely, replaced with an unusual desire as San explored your body. As desperate as he was, his touches remained soft and left you craving more whenever he pulled his hand away. San walked you back until you reached the desk, lifting you up enough to sit you on top of it and slotting himself between your thighs as he finally pulled away. You only had a second to catch your breath before you were pushed back slightly and pinned down by your hands. San hovered above you with a knowing smirk, taking a moment to enjoy your flustered expression before leaning down to whisper directly in your ear.

“Looks like I won. Game Over!”

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midnight-mourning · 3 months ago

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1000 kudos/100 Follower Special!

wow so um, there’s a LOT of you now

👀👀👀

WHERE DID Y'ALL EVEN COME FROM LIKE?? HI!! 👋👋👋

AND ALSO

THIS???? CRAZY, incredibly appreciated <3 but also wild

anyway, I think that deserves celebrating! So, here’s a couple ideas I came up with for y’all to vote on, with the option of sharing other ideas in the comments, I’ll do the top two and save the others for the next milestone :)

If the 'other' option gets the most/second most votes, I'll do another poll with ideas that people suggested and we'll go from there. You can scroll down and click the read more if you'd like more info on each option! SO, having said all that:

Letting you guys make the call with this one! I have stuff prepped for all of it, just a matter of people voting since this is ME showing my appreciation to YOU. And again, next milestone will have the opportunity for the other choices :)

Also, this isn't just for followers/the moots either! Anyone is welcome to vote and participate if they'd like to 💙💙

Please also feel free to ask questions in the comments if that helps you with voting! Can't wait to see what you guys pick :D

I will expand on each option here for clarity in your decision making:

CS one-shot: I will write a one-shot (3,000-5,000 words prob) based in the CS universe. It will be canon to the fic but will never be mentioned/referenced in the fic itself so stand alone to read. It may be a future scene, may be based somewhere in the current timeline. Open to ideas on the POV and such (though I have some floating around that I can do ;))

Q&A/Ask the Cast: a classic, I know my ask box is open but here's also a clear chance to ask something that you've been really curious about! I won't share spoilers for the story, but everything else is on the table, including stuff about me, writing etc. Just no super personal questions is all! Additionally, you can ask the cast questions and answers will be in character, perhaps with a little doodle as well ^-^

Finished refs/busts for the cast of CS: I'll post the finished versions of the rough sketches I shared a few months ago, along with the remainder of the cast! This includes the rest of the engineering team, the division heads, the glamrocks, and the DCA! I also will include little blurbs for all the characters as well. This will probably happen eventually anyway BUT if you want them sooner rather than later this is you're chance if you're curious :)

Spooky Season one-shot: something halloween-related that again I'm open to ideas for! Would also be about 3,000-5,000 words in length, could be related to CS or not

Writing Requests: similar to the requests I did for reveal day, same rules apply (no nsfw, suggestive is fine, be specific if you want specific) but a little longer in length (500-1000 words)

Doodle requests: I provide you with a little drawing I made with tender love and care (would be lined, colored, shaded, etc.)

A peek into the drafts: I do in fact have a couple other fic ideas floating around in my brain that I simply haven't started so that I don't get bogged down/focus on CS. I would share those and a little bit of concept art

Other: explained above

#sorry if the color and word emphasis bothers people #trying to highlight the main points of things #and also I enjoy color lmao #also if you see this you don't have to decide now #that's why it's open for a week :)#very excited about this ^-^#I know people are here for the fic (and you will get a chapter next week)#but also this has been a lot of fun overall and I want to show my appreciation for all the love and support #fnaf dca #dca fandom #dca community #milestone celebration #Confused Spirit #technically

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kmomof4 · 2 months ago

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Rocky Horror Halloween CS Spooky Season/ Autumnal Bingo

Here is my second offering for the CS Spooky Season/ Autumnal Bingo Challenge!!! And yes, I'm x-ing out 2 squares on my card with this one, Rocky Horror and Couples Costumes.

Many thanks to @hollyethecurious for coming up with the idea and making the bingo cards, and for settling the grammar argument between me and my beta @jrob64 , even if I lost said argument. Joni also deserves my humble thanks for betaing a fic centered around a movie she's never seen. Thank you both so much ladies!!! Love you both bunches!!!

As you can see above, I now have artwork to add to the fic thanks to the talents of @motherkatereloyshipper !!! I hesitated to ask her for this manip of Snowing to put in the picset because honestly, I thought it would look very weird, but she did it and it looks SO GREAT!!! So please join me in giving her all the love!!!

Summary: Emma and her boyfriend Killian are dragged by their friends to their college's Halloween tradition, a showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Rating: T

On ao3 if you prefer.

Words: Approx 1000

Tags: Rocky Horror Picture Show, Halloween Fic, Spooky Season Bingo

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615

@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @djlbg

@lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica

@laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter

@ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie

@soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite

@jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779

@kymbersmith-90 @suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites @myfearless-love

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Prompt: Rocky Horror/Couples Costumes

“I cannot believe I let you talk me, us, into this,” Emma grumbled.

“Oh, come on, Emma,” Ruby cajoled, holding on to her boyfriend Victor’s arm as they navigated themselves through the field just outside of their small town. It was littered with blankets and lawn chairs for the Halloween screening of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

While the families of Storybrooke were trick or treating around the neighborhoods and small businesses of downtown, the small private college sponsored their own Halloween event more suited to the young people who lived at the campus.

“It’ll be fun,” Ruby continued. “Killian has never heard of Rocky Horror, so as his girlfriend, it’s your duty to educate him about it!”

“How can I educate him when I’ve never seen it?” she asked indignantly.

“Exactly,” Ruby answered.

“I’ve got much better things to do with my time than to sit through this completely nonsensical excuse of a Halloween film,” Emma groused.

“As long as I’m spending the evening with you, lass, I’m content,” Killian whispered in her ear, waggling his eyebrows and making her giggle.

“I’ve heard things about this movie over the years,” she replied lowly, so Ruby and the others wouldn’t overhear. “And it’s… somethin’...” The equal parts chagrined and dubious look on her face made Killian wonder exactly what she’d gotten them into.

The group finally found an open space in the field, big enough for their blanket and all the lawn chairs they’d brought with them. They got settled and had just pulled out the dinner provided for them by Ruby’s grandmother, when the MC of the evening got up on the stage.

“Welcome to Storybrooke University’s annual Halloween showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show!” Regina Mills, the president of the Student Government Association announced. While Regina was a great leader of the SGA, a good actress she was not, and Emma had trouble containing her smirk at the obvious distaste her friend had for the yearly event that she had no choice but to continue.

“There are a few ground rules that you should know about,” she continued, as several members of the audience booed, Ruby included. Regina shot their friend an annoyed glare, and then continued with her spiel. “We at the SGA and the faculty of Storybrooke U encourage everyone to have a good time tonight, singing and dancing to the songs and enjoying whatever refreshments you’ve brought for the show. However, if anyone gets too loud and disruptive during the showing, you will be asked to leave. If any couples get too hot and heavy during certain scenes, disturbing the people around you, you’ll be asked to take it inside.”

That brought a round of hoots and hollers from the audience and made Emma wonder if she and her sexy boyfriend might be able to exploit that rule to get out of sitting through the whole movie. The smirk and raised eyebrow on Killian’s face told her that he knew what she was thinking and was wholly in agreement.

“Karaoke mics are over here to my right,” Regina continued, “but to participate on stage, you must be in costume. At the end of the show, costumes and karaoke performances will be judged, with the winner - or winners, in the case of couples - receiving this magnificent trophy, as well as getting free admission to the football game Saturday and $100 in free concessions.”

Cheers broke out from the crowd around them, with Ruby declaring that David and Mary Margaret, dressed up as Brad and Janet, were sure to win. Their costumes were exact replicas of the characters - all the way to Brad’s glasses and plaid bow tie, and Janet’s white hat on top of her red, shoulder length curly hair. Plus, they’d been practicing “Dammit, Janet” for weeks. Ruby and Victor were also dressed up, but Ruby went for a sexy Janet costume while Victor was dressed up as Rocky.

“Everyone enjoy the show!”

Regina finally left the stage and joined their group, cuddling up with her boyfriend Robin next to Emma and Killian. As the movie got started, their group dug into their meals, while David and Mary Margaret hurried to the stage for their song. Emma was thoroughly impressed with how into it they both got. They cavorted across the stage, copying the blocking on the screen and when David got down on one knee, his voice going up into falsetto, Emma and Killian both howled with laughter.

When it was time for the “Time Warp”, their friends coaxed Regina, Emma, and Killian to participate, and once it was over, Emma had to admit, it was rather fun. Ruby and Victor got on stage for “Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch Me” and Emma snuck a glance at Killian to see him looking at her instead of what their friends were getting up to on the stage. Thankfully, the song was over before Regina had to go up there and get them to stop.

Once the movie was over, and the judging was complete, Emma had to admit to having fun at the seasonal event.

“See?” Ruby asked, elbowing her in the side as they packed up. “I told you you’d have fun.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Emma conceded. “But I stand by my statement at the beginning that this was a stupid Halloween movie.”

“Next year,” David began, holding up the trophy he and Mary Margaret won.

“Next year,” Emma interrupted, “Killian and I will do our own thing.”

“And so will Robin and I,” Regina agreed.

“Since you made it all the way through the movie,” Ruby replied, “we’ll grant you clemency next year.”

Killian rolled his eyes at Ruby’s concession. “Your mercy is appreciated, lass.”

He turned to Emma and waggled his eyebrows. “The night is still young, Swan. What say you come back to my place for a nightcap? The movie gave me a few ideas.”

A grin spread across her lips as she grabbed his collar and pulled him to her for a passionate kiss. The whoops and hollers from their friends were hardly noticeable with their heavy, panting breaths when they finally separated.

“Lead the way, Jones,” she whispered.

“As you wish.”

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! I'd love to hear what you think!! Only one more fic for a bingo, and it'll be very short and sweet, so keep an eye out for it later tonight!!

#rocky horror halloween #krystal writes #spooky season autumnal bingo #manips by Kit

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spartanguard · 2 months ago

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Oooh, this is a great ghost story!! Both spooky and sweet!!

call disconnected

my first entry for CS Autumn/Spooky Bingo created by the lovely @hollyethecurious - the prompt was "ghost stories", i got a little carried away and made it into a bit of a crime solving thing! all my love and devotion goes to @belovedcreation for betaing!

rated T | 7849 words

also on AO3

summary: Sheriff Emma Swan gets a call about an accident in the woods, a man begging her for help. An hour later, Killian Jones is on his way to the hospital. Funny thing is, the call for help doesn't match the voice of the victim.

The call arrives just after 2 o’clock, which is lucky because there would be a whole other emergency if someone stopped Emma Swan from getting her grilled cheese.

Ruby is supposed to be on phone duty but there is an anniversary dinner to plan and she doesn’t want to be responsible for Mulan having an underwhelming night due to her wife’s rushed planning. So Emma is covering the phones when it rings.

“Sheriff Swan speaking.”

Static greets her on the other side of the line, tensing her body unconsciously before a voice rings out. “Help, I-I fell-” It’s a strange panicked voice she’s never heard before, an accent not common to their small town of Storybrooke, Maine. She feels a tingle in her spine all the way to her hands. “The cliff gave out. Can you hear me?”

“Uh, yes, yes, I can hear you, sir,” Emma takes a deep steadying breath. “Can you tell me where you fell?”

“I w-was on the Misthaven Trail, I-I think I broke my leg,” His guttural grunt of pain weighs on her chest and she feels like she’s having difficulty breathing. “I can see the bone, I-”

Static plays up again and she feels his panic in her veins. “I can barely hear you, sir,” Her knuckles are white as she tightens her hold on the phone, pressing it harder against her ear as if it will make it easier to hear. “Can you tell me precisely where on the trail?”

“The river, Shepherd River,” His breathing becomes panicked and she knows she should keep him calm, urging him to take shorter breaths but she’d feel like a hypocrite. “I’m bleeding, please, help me, plea-”

The call cuts off and she is left with the sounds of her fast breathing. “Sir? Sir?”

Emma tries to redial, grateful for the old technology to allow her to do so. An automated voice informs her the number is not in service and she frowns in confusion.

Maybe it was a prank.

Maybe some of the local teenagers were trying to send her on a wild goose chase so they can vandalise another section of their lovely neighbourhood.

But the panic was real. The fear in that voice was real. The hairs on her arms are still raised as she remembers the voice, as she remembers all the alarms her body gave her.

Graham pokes his head into her office a second after. “Emma?” Her hand hurts from where she’s still holding onto the phone as if her life depends on it. “Are you alright?”

Maybe it is a prank.

The tight feeling on her chest tells her to go check it out nonetheless.

She drops the phone, with maybe too much strength, before she faces her deputy. “Are you up for a hike?”

---

It really is lucky that Graham practically lives in the woods. Emma was made for concrete roads and windows to keep the insects away. She wouldn’t last an hour alone in these woods.

The Toll Bridge crosses through the edge of the forest. The Misthaven Trail parallels the Shepherd River that flows under the bridge. It’s common to see vehicles on the side of the road - hikers leaving the last piece of civilization before venturing into the forest.

Emma parks the cruiser alongside a Chevrolet Chevelle and she’s almost sad to see it left to the whims of nature. But it probably belongs to their injured hiker. She places her hand on the hood of the car. She can still feel some warmth.

“This must be his.” She points the car out to Graham. “It’s probably been like an hour since he left. Call the hospital, ask them to get an ambulance here.”

Graham nods and grabs his phone. She lets his voice become background noise as she inspects the car. The door is unlocked, the hiker probably wasn’t expecting to be long. There’s a satchel in the back seat. She opens the door and looks inside. There’s an ID in the wallet and a buzzing in her ears when she looks at the picture on it. Killian Jones.

“They’re on their way,” Graham breaks through her inspection and everything becomes clearer. “I told them to keep their radio on.”

She nods. “We’re looking for Killian Jones,” Emma turns the ID towards him before tossing it inside the car. “Assuming he’s our hiker.”

Graham has his tracking face on as she closes the door. There’s something on the driver side floor that causes that tugging in her gut that guides her to flare up.

“It’s a good thing it hasn’t rained,” Graham points out from the other side of the car. “There are some recent footprints leading west. They’re probably his.”

“The Misthaven Trail,” Emma nods, any investigating paused in lieu of finding the injured hiker. “Let’s go.”

“Stay behind me.”

“Go get him, Fido.” Emma presses her lips together attempting to hide the smile at her terrible joke, but fails at the sight of his unimpressed look.

They follow the trail in familiar silence. Graham’s experience allows them to travel at a fast speed through the trees. They pay close attention to any sounds out of the ordinary - which is to say, anything that isn’t birds, animals or the rushing river below them.

“Emma.”

Graham stops and she manages to stop before she runs into him. He gestures to the ground where a blanket is crumpled underneath a tree, still warm.

“Still warm,” Emma confirms before dropping the blanket. “He must be close. Maybe he fell.”

“After all the warnings the Mayor released, there’s still people who forget to respect the forest.”

“I thought those had only been around for the past year,” Emma frowns, looking around. “I mean, you both gave me an hour-long lecture about it when I started.”

“Everyone in town knows to be cautious of these woods but there was a, uhm,” And it is the first time she’s ever seen Graham sound uncertain, his voice trembling with emotion. He clears his throat before he continues. “There was a death in these woods.”

She sees the way he looks guarded now, in pain. “Oh.”

A flash catches the corner of her eye. With a hand to cover her eyes from the sun, she turns towards it. The sunlight has caught on a metal flask within throwing distance from the blanket, she assumes. Close to it is a pile of rocks. A strange pile, each rock deliberately placed on top of the other. It must have been a while since it’s been built there according to the moss growing on them.

Emma turns towards her deputy to point that to him but sees him a few steps away looking at the ground. “Drag marks,” he points out as if he could feel her eyes on him. “He must have fallen down-”

“Help!” A weak yell cuts him off and they whip their heads to the right.

“And ended up down by the river,” Emma finishes for him in a quiet voice, her heart beating faster at the sound of pain, as she stands next to the deputy.

Using caution, Emma follows Graham’s lead as he gets them to the river bank following the sounds of pain. Halfway down, they locate the hiker and for the first time, Graham’s confidence falters and so do his steps. A man is slumped on the side of the river, covered in dirt and blood. She can see tendrils of red flowing down the river.

“Don’t move,” Graham orders, recovering quickly, as he stands next to the victim who seems to slump at their arrival, the fight leaving his body in his relief. “We’re here to help.”

Emma kneels on one side of him and is instantly on alert at the sight of the gash in his head and the bone protruding from his leg. She looks up at Graham and he seems to read her thoughts.

“I’ll guide the paramedics here,” Graham says, grabbing the radio from his belt. “Keep him still and awake.”

She nods before he returns to the trail to guide the others to where they are. Emma places her hand on the man’s shoulder, careful to avoid hurting him further. His big blue eyes turn to her, pain and fear side by side with hope and creating a tug in her gut.

She clears her throat. “Are you Killian Jones?”

“Aye, I fell, broke my leg,” he explains in a hoarse voice. She frowns at the sound, a whole other type of tingle running up her spine. “The ground caved under me.”

There’s static in her radio before Graham’s voice rings out. “ETA is three minutes, is he conscious?”

“Yeah, conscious and lucid,” Emma answers through the radio. “Broken leg and head injury.”

“I thought I was going to die here,” Killian groans as she puts away the device. “How did you find me?”

“The Misthaven Trail is long and you weren’t exactly specific.” Emma breathes out a chuckle, her nerves slightly calmed at knowing help is coming. “But we found where you fell down. We would have been here faster but service in this area is crap. I don’t know how you called us in the first place.” She’s babbling. She does that when she’s nervous.

Killian’s eyebrows furrow together, confusion taking over the pain. “I called you?”

“Hmm, yeah, that’s how we knew to come find you.” She answers as if it’s obvious, even as a pull in her gut tries to tell her otherwise.

“I left my phone in the car,” he explains and she feels that tingle up her spine once more. “I didn’t call anyone.”

Careful footsteps and cautious voices approach them and she lets the paramedics do their job as they put Killian Jones in the stretcher and cover his wounds. Their eyes remain locked until the last possible moment before Emma follows behind the stretcher being led by Graham.

A light flashes in her eyes once more and she looks up at it, the pile of rocks still standing proudly in the forest, a bird perched on the top stone, its deep blue wings fluttering. The hairs at the back of her neck stand in attention and she tries to make sense of what happened.

They found the hiker exactly where he told her he’d be. His leg was broken, just like the call said - she wouldn’t soon forget the sight of the bone piercing his flesh. The voice was different, Emma noticed it right away, but there were no signs of other hikers in the area.

But if the call wasn’t made by Killian Jones, then who called them for help?

---

Loud laughter rings out from the open kitchen window. An unconscious smile stretches Emma’s lips as she looks out at the dark heads illuminated by the fire pit she borrowed from Graham. Despite being disappointed at the cancelled camping trip, Henry seemed to have forgotten all about it when she reminded him of the comforts of home camping and the awesome backyard that came with their house.

After the day they had, Emma just couldn’t think of Henry in the woods.

“Emma?”

Speaking of, her deputy’s voice from the phone in her ear brings her back to the present.

“Yeah, sorry.” She turns her back to the window, leaning on the counter. “I got distracted.”

“I was saying that Mr. Jones should be going into his MRI scan right now and after that, they are preparing him for surgery on his leg. The doctors said that despite the trauma his body has been through, he’s doing really well.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” Emma breathes out in relief. Against her best interests, she hadn’t been able to put this strange rescue away from her mind. There was just something about the call, his voice, his eyes, that just didn’t seem right.

She feels Graham’s patient silence on the other side and she nods to herself to gather up courage. “Doesn’t all of this seem strange to you? The whole situation.”

“Emma-”

“He didn’t call the station, Graham, it was someone else, I swear,” she interrupts, her hackles raised. “He didn’t have a phone on him either, this is all just-”

“Weird,” Graham interrupts this time and he sighs. “I should have told you earlier, but I know Killian Jones, we a- were friends.”

“What?”

“He used to live here until last year. His brother, he-” Emma waits in suspense as Graham takes a deep steadying breath. “He died while on a hike in that trail a year ago, I assume Killian went there to pay his respects. I didn’t even know he was in town until we found him.”

“Y-You didn’t say anything.”

“Well, I didn’t want to believe it was him and then, when we found him, I knew I had to stay focused. I needed to do my job.”

“Right,” Emma scratches her forehead, her brain full of conflicting thoughts. This was a lot to consider. “So who called the station? A ghost?” She asks her question sarcastically to disguise how the possibility doesn’t sound too ridiculous to her.

“All I know is that we had a long day, Emma,” Graham evades, his tone placating and calm. “We should get our rest and look at this whole thing again tomorrow, with fresh eyes.”

“You’re right,” she exhales. “Goodnight, Graham. Keep me updated.”

“Goodnight, Emma.”

Emma ends the call and throws the phone at the dinner table. She’s going to push those doubts away even if she needs to force them away. She’s got some happy campers to focus on. Emma pulls the popcorn from the microwave and picks up the platter she made with the components for s’mores before pushing the back door open carefully.

“Does anyone know any ghost stories?” Ava Zimmer is almost vibrating in her seat as she grabs a handful of chips Emma brought earlier. Camping is not synonymous with healthy food.

“Ghosts? Aren’t we too old for that?” Nicholas Zimmer, on the other hand, is trying to hide his fear with bravado.

“Come on, Nick, it’s almost Halloween.” Henry knocks shoulders with his friend’s and she can hear the grin in his voice. “And that means ghost stories. Besides, they’re not real.”

“Yeah,” Ava agrees. “It’s just spooky and Halloween is the time for spooky.”

“Just not too spooky,” Emma interrupts, ignoring the way Nicholas startles at the sound of her voice - no need to embarrass the boy. “Otherwise you won’t sleep tonight.”

“Have you heard the story of the Misthaven Ghost?” Henry leans close to his friends on the bench with a grin.

Emma is glad for her steady grip on the platter or there would be no s’mores tonight. “Misthaven Ghost? Where did you hear that sort of story?” She tries to keep her voice cool but even she can hear the edge in it - was she the last one to hear about this? -, focusing instead on placing the food down on the small camping table she opened.

“Mr. Booth is having us write a ghost story for class and he gave us that one as an example,” Henry answers and he must misinterpret her questioning as innocent curiosity but she’s not going to correct him. “Do you wanna hear it?”

“Would you mind if I joined you?”

“No, please join us!” Nicholas grabs her thankfully empty hands to pull her to sit between him and his twin after Henry stands up to stand on the other side of the fire.

“You’re such a scaredy cat.” Ava teases, looking at him around Emma.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

“Kids.” Emma warns, holding their arms to keep them from hitting each other.

“Listen up! For I am about to tell you the story of the Misthaven Ghost,” Henry calls from the other side of the fire before popping another popcorn in his mouth. Emma finds herself smiling at her kid’s dramatics. “It was a cold night in October, the 30th of October to be exact. An innocent man is walking the Misthaven Trail, determined to beat all odds and finish the hike. He is alone, nothing but his thoughts and the animals around him,” Nicholas plasters himself to Emma’s side. “He carries only a phone that won’t work this far into the woods and his bravery. He hears a presence to his right, to his left, all around, feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand in attention and a voice whispers in the wind,” Ava holds her right arm now as Henry lowers his voice. “‘Get out of the woods’, it says, ‘get out’, but the hiker is too fearless to heed their warning. Suddenly, a boom lights the sky and the ground gives out from under him, and then he’s falling. He’s falling and he can’t ask for help,” Emma feels the shiver running up her spine and, distantly, she thinks maybe Henry should focus on this storytelling ability he has. “He is floating on the river then, his body weak and leaving him, his last thought on the family he leaves behind, a last goodbye sent to the stars he loved so much.”

Henry finishes with a fluttering gesture towards the night sky. Ava and Nicholas on either side of her are gripping her arm, not willing to break the silence.

“He had a family?” Emma asks and even her quiet tone manages to startle the twins.

“Were you scared, Ava?” Nicholas asks as he looks at his sister, a victorious grin winning over his fear.

Ava huffs and crosses her arms. “No, you’re the scared one.”

“It’s a good story, isn’t it?” Henry asks, a bright smile on his face and a proud stance to his shoulders.

“Mr. Booth told you this story?” Emma tries again.

“Yeah,” Henry grabs another handful of popcorn, now that his story is done, eating one at a time. “He wanted us to have an example of what to write but he was probably also showing off.”

The kids laugh, everyone in town knowing of August’s designs of being a published author and his constant promises of finishing his novel soon. But there was still something niggling at Emma’s brain.

“Did he make up the story himself? Or did he hear it from someone?”

“He says he made it up inspired by a real event,” Henry shrugs. “I told Mrs. Nolan about it and she said that, about a year ago, someone did die in those woods and that’s when the Mayor put out the announcement.” He grabs the marshmallow sticks and passes them along to his friends who are still visibly spooked. “Apparently there had been lots of reports of injuries and lost hikers on that trail before that.”

“So it took someone dying for them to actually do something about it? Figures.” Emma scoffs and Henry shrugs, unaware of the turmoil in his mother’s brain.

“Okay, can we tell less spooky stories now?” Nicholas asks, begs almost, bringing Emma back to the present. The fact that Ava doesn’t tease her brother is telling.

“Why don’t I grab my laptop and put on a movie for you?” Emma suggests, standing up from the bench.

“Nightmare before Christmas?” Nicholas turns pleading eyes towards his friends.

Ava nods and then seems to remember herself. “Only if we watch ‘Monster House’ after.”

Her twin seems to think about it before nodding resolutely. “Deal! Is that okay, Henry?”

Henry smiles, seemingly just happy to have a fun night with his friends. “As long as it’s Halloween themed, I’m in.”

Emma grins, despite everything. “Double feature it is,” she chuckles. “I’ll set it up.”

‘This is Halloween’ drifts through the open kitchen window as the kids settle down making s’mores in the yard while Emma sits at the kitchen table. She finds Killian Jones’ social media easily enough - she wouldn’t have become one of the best bail bondsperson in the business without being able to find someone’s internet footprint with only a name and a date of birth. It might be slightly illegal to have taken a picture of the man’s ID but what is she gonna do? Arrest herself?

Maybe Emma needed to take a long look within herself if she was negotiating committing illegal acts to herself… After she got to the bottom of this mystery.

Killian Jones is even more handsome than she had previously thought. Considering the only times she’d been able to actually look at him were either a small grainy ID photo or him caked in dirt and blood, it wasn’t a high bar.

Seeing him on the deck of a small boat, a colourful shirt open to show his chest underneath, his eyes crinkled in laughter as he holds out a beer bottle in cheers to the person behind the camera is a welcome alternative. She has to force herself to scroll past the picture.

She notices belatedly that the last post - the Hawaiian shirt distraction - is from a year ago, September to be exact. In the middle of all the thirsty comments, she finds something interesting. ‘Don’t shut me out, Killian, I’m here for you’, was posted by one bookworm33 and it would have looked weird if it didn’t speak of desperation and worry.

Emma continues to scroll down and doesn’t have to swipe too long before she pauses at a picture of Killian Jones and a man that shares the same eyes and facial features. Her gut tugs at her and she taps on the picture once, a tag covering the man’s eyes. Bejewelled40 - whose real name is Liam Jones - aside from being a Taylor Swift fan, is also Killian Jones’ brother.

There are pictures of them in boats, hiking, and visiting foreign countries, even some that include Graham. His posts also end a year ago and the ‘remembering’ on the top of his profile is an easy explanation. Clicking on the first photo - different angles to the September boat trip, focusing more on Liam Jones than his brother - she finds another comment hidden between thirsty comments and boat enthusiasts. ‘I miss you’, written simply and it’s the lack of emojis that catch Emma’s attention. Bookworm33 was clearly important to the siblings.

It doesn’t take her long to get a better picture of the situation. Belle French, the brother’s friend, has been a librarian at Storybrooke High for the past 4 years after a troublesome divorce made her move cities. Pictures and references to the Jones brothers start a few months after that, before there’s a significant lack of Killian Jones in her pictures a year later.

An article in the local newsletter, an announcement in the paper and a remembrance post on Facebook spells out the rest of the story. The Jones Brothers move to Storybrooke 5 years ago and join the community, Liam as the Sheriff and Killian as the Harbormaster; Belle and Liam start their romance and become engaged two years ago. A year ago, Belle’s father passes away and she travels back home and Liam is found dead on the Misthaven Trail three days later. Killian Jones isn’t seen in Storybrooke for a whole year after the funeral until Emma finds him almost dead by the river bank.

A message notification puts an end to her research. ‘Jones is out of surgery and we should be able to visit him tomorrow’, Graham texts and she looks at the clock. Emma sighs. Two hours researching and she still has so many questions.

‘Take the day off tomorrow, Humbert, I’ll follow up with Jones’, she messages back. ‘Don’t argue with me, I’m your boss, you deserve some rest’, she sends right after, expecting the argument.

‘Alright, Sheriff, I leave it to your capable hands.’ The reminder causes her to massage her temples. She has Liam Jones’ job; could this whole situation feel more like a horror movie?

Going back to Liam Jones’ instagram, Emma finds a picture of him with Graham in a nature setting. With a squint and a zoom, she recognises the setting. She swipes to find a video with Graham’s voice from behind the camera and Liam Jones struggling but determined to take his next step.

“We’re currently on mile 5 of the Misthaven Trail,” Graham explains, a very faint hint of tiredness in his tone as he sweeps the camera over their surroundings and Emma can’t help the eerie feeling at the setting sun behind the trees. “As you can see, this area is beautiful and peaceful, a great place to be at one with yourself and your thoughts.” There’s a scoff from the right and Graham laughs, turning the camera to his friend. “Liam here is having some trouble.” He earns himself a glare from his companion. “There've been a lot of accidents in this area so this is your friendly reminder to be careful where you step and to respect the forest.”

“You’ve lectured every single lost or injured hiker we pulled out of these woods. Friendly, my arse.” Emma sucks in a breath at the sound of Liam Jones’ voice. Graham’s responding laughter and voice seems to sound from underwater as he defends himself.

Please, help me, plea-

It’s the same voice. She feels the tingle in her spine and the raised hairs on her arms she had before. How could it be possible?

Sounds of yelps outside have her jumping from her seat, her heart beating rapidly against her chest. Subsequent cheering reminds her of her whereabouts. It’s the kids reacting to the anthropomorphic house finally meeting its demise on the small screen. Emma grips onto the kitchen counter, taking deep steadying breaths.

She needs to have a chat with Killian Jones.

---

It’s rainy and gloomy the next day when Emma arrives at the hospital.

Maybe the weather’s a sign. It’s not like she was ever a superstitious person but it’s hard to remain sceptical after the day she’s had. The nurse tells her he’s in room 13. Of course.

In the corridor, she sees a familiar figure.

“I thought I told you to take the day off, Humbert.”

Emma almost grins when he startles. Almost. She simply crosses her arms as she stares him down. Graham looks away, as if he just got caught in the proverbial cookie jar, it’s a cute look.

“I am taking my day off, Emma,” Graham defends and she raises her eyebrow. “I didn’t ask him anything that could be related to the case. I just-”

“Wanted to see how your friend was,” she finishes for him.

Graham stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets and nods. “I just needed to make sure he was okay.”

“Because Liam would have wanted you to do the same.”

He looks up at her with wide eyes and parted lips. This might have been the first time she’s shocked her deputy in the year they’ve worked together.

“H-how…?”

“I did some research last night.” She uncrosses her arms to stuff her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “I found Killian Jones’ social media, which led me to Liam’s, to Belle’s and then to yours. You were his deputy.”

“The four of us bonded over being away from home.” He shrugs, trying to hide the heartache over the loss. “After Liam passed, it all fell apart.”

“I’d never seen Killian Jones in Storybrooke before today, or Belle French.”

“Killian left after the funeral, said something about a family member in Boston even though I’m sure they didn’t have any family in the States. He rejected all my calls, I had no way to find him.” Graham sighs, scratching his forehead. “Belle isolated herself the first few months. After that she would go from home to work and back. She’s been trying to go out more, determined to live her life the way Liam would have wanted her to. It’s still a slow process but at least she’s trying.”

“And here you are in the middle of everything trying to be there for everyone.”

“I didn’t lose a brother or a fiance, Emma, I’m fine.” He crosses his arms and she recognises the look on his face.

“Right, if you want me to be ‘bad cop’, I will,” she threatens.

“Seriously, Emma, I’m fine, it’s been a year and-”

“Graham,” she interrupts, holding up her hand. “Go see Dr. Hopper or I’m suspending you.”

He groans and yet, it feels like a victory. “Yes, boss.” He mockingly salutes and yet it still shows his respect.

“Go home and enjoy the rest of the day off while I go and talk to Mr. Jones.” Emma pats his arm and he nods.

“I told him to tell you everything he could remember,” Graham informs her. “I know you can do your job but he can be very stubborn so I just wanted to make it a little easier for you.”

“Thanks,” Emma smiles amusedly and watches as he walks past her. “Hey, Graham?” He stops in the corridor and she can’t hold back her curiosity. “Liam was the sheriff before me,” Graham shifts in his feet, uncomfortable. “Did you apply for the job? I’d think you’d be a shoe-in to be the next Sheriff as opposed to an outsider.”

“Nah,” He shrugs and she can actually see the weight on his shoulders. “It wouldn’t have felt right.” His lips curl up in a small smile, a grieving smile. “Besides, you are a great boss.”

Emma rolls her eyes but her smile is wide. “Get some rest and go see Dr. Hopper.”

“Yes, boss,” he repeats before he leaves the hospital wing all together.

With a deep steadying breath, Emma knocks at the door of room 13.

“Come in.”

She nods to herself before opening the door. “Mr. Jones, I’m-”

“Sheriff Emma Swan,” Killian Jones nods at her. “Graham told me you were coming. Didn’t expect you here so fast though.”

“As it happens, you’re my only open case.”

She stands a few feet from his bed, arms crossed as she finally takes a look at the man they saved the day before, now no-longer covered in blood and dirt. There is a bandage on his forehead all the way down to the temple, his face, neck and hands - the only things visible - filled with small scratches, and his leg is in a thick cast. He looks tired but okay.

He looks handsome too and she’s trying not to remember his boat pictures. It helps that the hospital gown and robe cover his chest and what she knows is underneath. She’s really trying.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” He gestures to the chair next to his bed, where she assumes Graham had been seated minutes prior. “We’re probably in for a long chat.”

She should refuse, keep him at a distance. She sits down but not before pulling the chair back a few inches. Emma catches an amused smile on his lips and she wonders what else Graham told him about her. She clears her throat focusing on being professional.

“Alright, Mr. Jones-”

“Please, call me Killian.”

Emma nods, trying to look away from the soft smile he directed at her. “Killian.” His smile grows. Professional, Emma. “Do you remember what happened before we found you?”

“Aye,” It’s his turn to clear his throat at the wavering tone of his voice. “The ground slid out from under me and I fell, hit my head and broke my leg.”

His tone was distant, factual, and it sounded wrong in his voice. “What were you doing in that part of the woods?”

“I-uh, I went there to drink.”

“We didn’t find any evidence of alcoholic beverages and your blood alcohol levels were very low.” She raises her eyebrow at his half-truth. “Let me tell you a little secret.” She leans forward, her elbows on her knees. “I-”

“Have a thing with lies.” There is a small smile on his lips at Emma’s surprised expression. “Graham told me about that.”

“Right.” It takes her a second to recover from the surprise. “If you know, why don’t we avoid lying or, in this case, omitting part of the story and you tell me the truth.”

“Commanding, I like it.” He smirks weakly and at the roll of her eyes, he nods in preparation, his expression turning serious. “I was there to mourn my brother, Liam.”

“Why not go to the cemetery? I’m sure you’ve heard how dangerous that part of the woods is.”

“That’s where he died,” His voice is low and she can only just hear it over the beeping of the machines. “Graham and the others found his body wrapped around on a rock in the river the next morning. He’d bled out during the night.”

“So he got injured the day before? How did no one notice he was gone for so long?” She doesn’t mean for her voice to sound accusing but from the guilty self-punishing look in Killian’s face, that’s how he would describe it.

“A few weeks before he passed, I went through a break-up,” he sighs, settling carefully on the pillows at his back and Emma does the same on the cushioned chair. “I had fallen in love with a married woman.” She tries to contain her surprise and apprehension but it’s like he can see everything she tries to hide. “I know, I got an earful from my brother when we started dating. But she promised that she was going to divorce her husband as soon as she could find a good lawyer so she could guarantee a joint custody deal.”

“She has a child?”

He nods and his frown is enough for her to understand his conflict. “We kept it a secret. We didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardise her relationship with her son. Liam kept telling me how reckless I was being, how naive, but I kept shutting him down. I was in love.” He shrugs. “After a while he stopped trying and I was happy.”

“Her husband found out.” It wasn’t a question.

“I got greedy, selfish,” Killian’s tone turns hard, self-loathing. “We went to a cafe in town and she was nervous but I was happy, I was out in public with the love of my life.” He shakes his head with a scoff. “Her husband walked in with her son right behind him and I considered it luck that the cafe was almost empty. The boy came up to us first, asking his mom why she was there and who I was. I didn’t know what to say and her husband was looking at me like he wanted to kill me.” Killian sighs. “She asked me to leave and that she would talk to me later.”

“I’m assuming it didn’t go well.”

He actually laughs, a sharp, terrible sound. “I had gotten myself into a state when she finally met me. We yelled at each other, she accused me of pushing, I accused her of playing with my feelings. When she finally told me that she almost lost her son because of me, I shut up. She told me she was going to go back to her husband, that he was willing to take her back after the stupid mistake she made and then she left.” He finishes with a sigh and Emma leans back on her chair, overwhelmed. “I didn’t take it well.”

“Who would?”

His chuckle brings her eyes back to his and despite the pain behind them, there’s an amused glint in the blue eyes that definitely do not get captured well in pictures. “For the next few weeks, I started drinking. A lot. I didn’t want to see Liam’s disappointment or self-righteousness so I distanced myself. That day, he barged into my house, took one look at the half-empty bottle in my hand and went off on me.” He shifts in his bed, hissing when his leg moves wrong. “I can see now that he was scared but at that moment I was angry. We argued and I told him that I never wanted to see him again and he left my house.”

“Is that why no one filed a missing persons report?”

He nods and his eyes water. “I drank the whole night after he left and the next day, I woke up to someone banging on my door. It was Belle.” His breath shudders. “She had been trying to call him all morning. Liam had told her that he would be coming to my place so she thought he’d stayed the night, when he didn’t text her or call her the next morning, she started to get worried. That fear, the feeling that someone had gone wrong to someone you love, was the sharpest cure for a hangover I ever had.” They both shared a mirthless chuckle. “We called Graham right away and when he didn’t know where Liam was, it became a town wide search.” He takes a deep breath. “Graham found his car parked at Toll Bridge and searched through Misthaven Trail.”

“He fell.” Emma wrings her fingers as she watches the emotions in Killian’s face.

“He left his phone in the car so when he fell into the river, he couldn’t call for help.” He sniffs, staring at the wall in front of him. “So imagine my surprise when you and Graham showed up to my rescue despite the fact that I also left my phone in my car and no one knew I was even in town.” Killian turns to her, his eyes still full of pain but a curious small smile gracing his lips.

Emma tucks her hair behind her ear in a nervous move and leans back on the chair. “It’s like I told you yesterday, we received a call that helped us find you.”

“Right,” he frowns. “And as I just said, I left my phone in the car, so it’s impossible.”

She sighs. “I’m aware of that and, trust me, I’ve spent the whole night trying to figure it out and the only explanation I have is impossible.”

“Try me.”

Emma opens and closes her mouth a few times while Killian looks on patiently. “All our calls are recorded,” she says instead, pulling her phone from her pocket. “Before I came here, I went by the station to download the recording, so I’m just gonna play it for you.” Killian raises an eyebrow while Emma brings up the file.

“Sheriff Swan speaking.”

Static rings out from the speaker and she tenses up all over again. “Help, I-I fell-” Killian gasps and she gives in to his silent request and hands him the phone. “The cliff gave out. Can you hear me?”

“Uh, yes, yes, I can hear you, sir. Can you tell me where you fell?”

“I w-was on the Misthaven Trail, I-I think I broke my leg,” Killian’s eyes shine with tears at his brother’s voice, at his sounds of pain and Emma feels her chest tighten. “I can see the bone, I-”

Static plays up again and she is dreading the end of the call. “I can barely hear you, sir.” His knuckles turn white from where he is gripping the phone and a tear falls down his cheek. “Can you tell me precisely where on the trail?”

“The river, Shepherd River. I’m bleeding, please, help me, plea-”

Killian takes a shuddering breath when the recording ends and the phone drops on the bed. She should grab the phone and give him space. She should ask him questions about it. And yet, Emma finds herself grabbing his trembling hand with hers, her whole skin tingling at the touch. He grips her hand back tighter, forcing himself to take deep breaths.

“H-How-,” he whispers in a broken tone. “That’s my brother’s voice but-but how is it possible?”

Killian looks at her, pleading for an answer, for an explanation. But she can’t give him one. Emma shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know.” Her thumb moves unconsciously over his knuckles. “But if it wasn’t for this call, we wouldn’t have found you.”

To her surprise, Killian starts to laugh even as tears fall down his face, a disbelieving sound. “I can’t believe this.” He covers his face with his free hand and Emma squeezes his hand, silently asking for clarification. He sighs and looks at her, his eyes bluer than they’d been before. “I ran away after the funeral, they had barely finished covering the casket and I was crossing the town line. I knew Belle needed me to stay, Graham too, we should have mourned together, helped each other during this but I-I-”

“You blamed yourself.”

He exhales a laugh. “Aye, stupidly tried to find answers at the bottom of a bottle once again. I just kept replaying our last argument, kept seeing him bleeding out in the river and I knew I couldn’t grieve when I knew it was my fault.”

Emma opens her mouth to protest but Killian raises his hand, stilling the words she still wasn’t sure she would say. “After a night where I was almost inducted into this woman’s witchy cult,” and she really wishes she had the chance to ask about that, “I looked for help. Found a therapist, grieved. A week ago, I told him about the anniversary of Liam’s death coming up and he suggested I visit his grave, talk to him, ask for forgiveness.” He sighs. “I was on my way to the cemetery when I found myself on the Toll Bridge. I thought it was a sign when I found the marker Graham made to honour Liam. I sat there and talked to him, I didn’t realise how much anger I still felt towards him dying, abandoning me.” He laughed sarcastically. “Ridiculous, I know. I threw my flask and I felt the ground slide from under me and I thought ‘there it is, your revenge, Liam, you’re finally punishing your killer’.”

“And then we showed up.”

“And I thought that maybe you had appeared for a reason and now hearing that?” He looks at her embarrassed, shaking his head. “I sound like a crazy person but-”

“I thought I was crazy,” Emma interrupts him with a reassuring smile. “Common sense would have you think the call was a prank. But from the moment I got the call, my instincts told me something wasn’t right, that there was more to the story.”

“I’m really glad you decided to go with your instinct, then,” he smiles softly. “If you hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have made it.”

“But you did.” She squeezes his hand and they both seem to remember that their hands are still clasped together. She doesn’t let go and neither does he. “And if we are to believe in ghost stories, your brother is adamant that you get a second chance.”

They lock eyes, share a soft smile and she figures professionalism has been thrown out the window from the moment she took his hand. He nods and his smile widens. She kinda wishes they could hold hands forever.

Wait, what?

“You may be right.” His voice is soft and it feels like he’s trying to look inside her, searching. “He’d probably beat up the side of the head that it took me this long to get my head out of my own arse.”

Emma chuckles and his smile widens. “I don’t think he expected you to break your leg and your head to get the message across.”

“Well,” his lips curve into a side smirk and she’s not ready for it, “I’m guessing that the service in the afterlife is a little spotty.” She laughs, surprised at his joke, and he laughs with her. Nope, she was not ready. “My brother always gave me good advice, maybe I should follow this last one too and take that second chance he gave me.”

“Oh?”

Her heart hammers against her chest at the way he looks at her. He opens his mouth to answer when the room door bursts open.

“Killian Jones!”

Emma jumps from her seat, refusing to acknowledge how empty her hand feels now that it’s no longer holding his, to make space for the shorter brunette storming up to Killian’s bed.

Belle French.

“I haven’t heard from you in a whole year and then I have Graham calling me to tell me you’re in the hospital?!”

But Killian only smiles, clearly happy to see his would-be sister-in-law despite the guilt beginning to take root in his eyes. “I’m so happy to see you, Belle.” And it’s clear that the simple sentence breaks something in the librarian’s being. With two quick strides, she embraces him tightly. “Careful, love, I’m an invalid now,” he complains, even as his arms hold her closer, willing to ignore any pain it might be causing him.

“You’re in a world of trouble, Killian.”

His smile only widens and he turns to look at Emma, likely amused at the overwhelmed look on her face. Belle seems to realise that there’s someone else in the room - not that Emma blames her - and turns to her.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you, I-”

“No need to apologise,” Emma raises her hand to stop the apology. “I just needed to take Mr. Jones’ testimony.” He raises an eyebrow at her use of his last name, clearly unimpressed by her choice to be professional. “Sheriff Emma Swan,” she introduces herself before holding out her hand.

“Belle French.” Belle takes her hand, still somewhat surprised as she looks between Killian and her. “Is he in some kind of trouble then?” Her expression seems ready for a fight and Killian’s smile seems to grow.

“No, no,” Emma is quick to appease. “I just needed the full story, that’s all.” She stuffs her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “I actually should go write up the report.” She takes a few steps back towards the door. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss French. Get better soon, Mr. Jones.”

She starts to walk out the door. “Emma,” Killian calls and she really should not have turned around so fast. “Maybe we can grab a coffee when I get discharged? You can tell me all about safety measures when hiking.”

Emma tries to ignore Belle’s curious expression. “I think Graham might be the better man for the job.”

“He’s been trying for years, it never stuck,” He grins and there’s only so much a girl can be expected to take. “Maybe you’ll have more luck.”

She bites her lip and focuses on the hopeful look in his eyes. The last time she trusted someone, that she gave someone a chance, she ended up in prison. She should say no.

Maybe she can justify this leap on supernatural activity too?

“It’s a date.”

The way his grin lights up a whole room does feel otherworldly.

Just as the door closes behind her, she hears Belle’s stupefied voice.

“Killian Jones, you have a lot of explaining to do.”

Emma laughs. Maybe not all ghost stories have to have bad endings.

#cs fic rec #spooky season #cs halloween #exhaustedpirate

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scary-grace · 1 year ago

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fic writer tag game

I got tagged by @mirkwood-hr-department for this game several days ago and at long last I have time to sit down and do it, so --

How many works do you have on Ao3?

Sixty as of Halloween night!

What's your total Ao3 word count?

1,958,061. And we're not even halfway through Kairos. Yikes.

What fandoms do you write for?

The Tolkienverse (namely the Hobbit) and My Hero Academia.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

i ain't changed, but i know i ain't the same -- bnha erasermic hanahaki fic

seeking a friend for the end of the world -- barduil zombie apocalypse au

Kairos -- barduil SLOW burn historical haunted house romance set in 1977

Show Me My Silver Lining -- bagginshield band AU (my first grown-up fanfiction)

more than words can wield the matter -- after the Elves return to their forest at the conclusion of the Battle of the Five Armies, a certain elf starts writing Bard some very questionable letters

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I usually don't respond to them in thread, but I thank everyone for them in the author's note of the next chapter, and I respond to specific questions there or on Tumblr!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Undoubtedly i'll follow you into the dark. For now.

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Show Me My Silver Lining. For now.

Do you get hate on fics?

I used to get it, back when I was writing on fanfic.net. I get the odd inexplicable comment these days, but so far I've been lucky on Ao3.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I write smut. I think. Mostly it's the nonexplicit variety, but I recently started using the three Cs when needed, so maybe it's explicit now?

Do you write crossovers?

I do not! The closest I've ever come to a crossover is naming all the non-canon background OCs in my BNHA fics after characters from a certain other manga. Nobody's guessed what it is yet.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No to that as well!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! My collaborators include incredible writers like @lonelyheartsmotel, @dogblessyoutascha, and @corndog-patrol!

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Barduil, no contest. The sheer number of words I've put into that pairing is unreal. The fact that I even have another ship is thanks to the sheer power of @corndog-patrol and e-girl!Mic.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I intend to finish them all, and am trying to finish at least two this week. But as for unpublished stuff, probably the barduil 'a quiet place' AU. I didn't make it too far, and I definitely lost motivation.

What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm pretty solid at writing plot. Nothing makes me happier than leaving foreshadowing lying around and seeing if readers catch it.

What are your writing weaknesses?

As evidenced by my Ao3 word count, I'm not very concise.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't think I've ever tried it. I usually indicate dialogue that's supposed to be in another language with italics.

First fandom you wrote for?

Marvel. On fanfic.net. Dark times.

Favorite fic you've written?

Mm, I think Kairos is still my crowning achievement. But I have to say that I'm really proud of Love Like Ghosts, the first fic I ever wrote entirely in the Notes app on my phone and the first fic where I avoided ever using the main character's name.

I'll go ahead and tag @dogblessyoutascha @phantombstone @sophsiaaa and @melkors-defense-attorney!

#barduil #clown hours

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naffeclipse · 2 years ago

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TW mentions of pet passing (feel free to skip this ask ❤️

Only just now got to Double Toil and Trouble because Halloween I was saying goodbye to the last of my trio of childhood cats (had them since I was 6, they were with me through a very rocky growing up, homelessness, trauma,etc) and when she was gone it felt like Iw as grieving all 3 of them all over again and that final realization of they aren't coming home.

But with the new chapter I finally got around to it today (I was the one who sent the orange cat tiktok lol) and ITS SO GOOD I'M!!!! and like oddly comforting after everything and just oh the boys 🥺 and dancing with Sun in the field and that moment with Moon and the witch butter, and like I sort of under because it's a smaller thing compared to SL and CS when I came back I'm surprised there doesn't seem to be so much hype. I'm biting and eating it so much

Also something I love with your writing is it seems every chapter of each of your fics I seem to learn at least 1 new fun word!! I don't see that so much with others and I love how in depth you describe scenes!!

Awww, I'm really glad it can be of some comfort ♥ ♥ ♥ Thank you so much for reading and enjoying it!

I think it's a bit smaller response because it was supposed to be a one-shot thing for Halloween, but maybe once it's a full fledge fic, it can get more people involved with it ♥

#that brings me so much joy that you learn new words alkdfjaslfd i love learning new words so just ahh!#♥#compliments that make me cry (out of joy)

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vilsoo · 1 year ago

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hi twinnn <3 can we just talk about ur theme for a min cs bestie you outdid yourself it ate frrr !! but im zari and i hope we can talk more 🤍

omg thank you zari 😋🫶🏽 since ur new, the shit i write on my blog consists of sex and horror (my favorite genre to write for especially since halloween is right around the corner 😩) but im hoping to interact with you more honey <33 ur theme is sosososo cute and i cant wait to read ur fics!!

#( ♥︎ ) — my love zari.#since we have each other on discord we can talk anytime 🤞🏽

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horanghaejamjam · 1 year ago

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Hallows Eve - {CS}

↪ Summary: Your friends trick you into doing a Halloween ritual that’s supposed to summon a demon. You never believed in demons but do it anyway just to please them. Needless to say you didn’t expect it to work, nor did you expect yourself to end up trapped in the underworld by a demon wishing to claim you as his.

↪ Pairings: Demon prince San x Female presenting reader

↪ Rating: M 18+

↪ Genre: Fluff/Smut/Demon Au/Arranged Marriage/S2L

↪ Word Count: 3.8k

↪ Warnings/Contents: Smut (MDNI), Hard dom/possessive San, Power dynamics (Use of "sir" and "brat"), corruption, unprotected sex marking/biting, multiple orgasms, and body worship, aftercare and San being super soft at the end.

↪ Side Notes: PLEASE READ: This is a collab fic with @kpopidolsangel and is also a submission for the @atinyhalloweenproject this one is for the lovely @kpop-stories-21

Angel came up with the concept as well as made the banner and wrote the first half of this fic. However due to a family emergency she was unable to finish it and asked me to take over the story. All credit to the idea goes to her. I also apologize for the delay on this one and I hope it was worth the wait!

↪ Click here to see my other Ateez stories

↪ Click here for other kpop masterlists

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There is a common legend that makes its way through your town every October. The legend goes that if you go into the woods at midnight, light a jack-o'-lantern, and recite an ancient poem, that you can summon a deity known as The Demon of the Hallows. The legend then states that anyone who summons him with a kind spirit will be blessed with a special gift, but those without a kind spirit would never be heard from again. You wouldn’t call yourself a skeptic or anything but you were never one to humor the legend. It was something you brushed off as a dumb story high school kids used to scare their friends or younger siblings. Needless to say, never in a million years did you expect to find yourself standing in the middle of the woods with a poorly carved jack-o'-lantern and a lighter. Your friends were hiding behind the trees a few feet away from you, not wanting to take any chances in case this ritual did end up working.

This had all started during a Halloween party you were attending with your friends. Yunho had been the one to bring up the legend to which Mingi and Wooyoung had insisted that you try it, just to see what would happen. They agreed you had to be the one to do it since you were the most “normal” out of the friend group and before you knew it you were being dragged out of the party and into the woods, Wooyoung stealing one of the carved pumpkins from the porch so you could complete the ritual.

It was completely dark out, with the moon being the only source of light, barely allowing you to make out the shadows of your friends from where you stood. Your rather thin vampire costume doing very little to shield you from the cold fall breeze, and you didn’t bring a jacket as you hadn’t planned on going outside. Your dress fluttered in the wind and tickled at your legs as you shivered and rubbed at your arm to try and stay warm.

“This is ridiculous!” you called back, “can’t we just go home, it’s freezing out here!”

“What’s the matter?” you heard Wooyoung call back to you, “are you scared it will work?”

“I’m not scared of a demon, I'm scared of freezing to death!” you argued back which caused the boys to laugh.

“You’re so dramatic!” Yunho teased.

“We only have two minutes until midnight, just do it!” Mingi added. You really wanted to just leave them there and run back to the house, but you knew you would never hear the end of it if you did.

“You guys are so dead once this is over,” you groaned, setting the pumpkin down on the ground and waiting for the cue to start. Once Wooyoung gave you the go ahead you quickly lit the candle inside the pumpkin and recited the poem as best as you could remember it. The light from the candle flickered in the wind as you waited a moment to see if anything would happen. As expected, nothing did and you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes as you stood up and dusted yourself off. “I told you guys it wouldn’t work, can we go now?” you called out, only to be met with silence. “Guys?” you tried looking around but you could no longer see the shadows of your friends. You knew they couldn’t have left that quickly without you hearing or seeing them, so your first instinct was that they were hiding from you just to scare you. “Really funny, come on guys I want to go back,” you said, walking over to the tree only to realize there was no one there. The woods fell eerily silent as you began to panic, calling out for your friends and looking around only to find that no one was there, you were completely alone.

“Why so scared little one?” you quickly turned around to see a figure standing in front of the jack-o'-lantern where you had just been. He stood just a bit taller than you, with wide shoulders and a slim but toned waist. His hair was long, mostly black but you could see white peeking out at the bottom, the strands perfectly slicked back behind two black ram-like horns. He was wearing a black suit with red trim and gold embellishments that matched the gold headpiece he was wearing. Tucked behind him you could just make out the outline of batlike wings, resting against his shoulders. His eyes were sharp as he looked at you, and when you moved closer you could see the red color and cat-like pupil, the charcoal style makeup he was wearing only served to help accentuate his features. If you weren’t intimidated by his presence, you would have found him to be insanely beautiful.

“I-who are you?” you stuttered out as you walked over to him, causing him to chuckle.

“You are the one who called me here and yet you don’t know who I am?” he questioned, clearly amused by the situation. You, on the other hand, were terrified as you struggled to form a proper sentence.

“Wait so you are The Demon of the Hallows? I didn’t think you were real!” you confessed.

“That’s the name people gave me over the years, but I find that title much too formal,” he mused, “call me San.” You blinked at him in confusion as he moved closer until he was only a foot or so in front of you, smirking to himself as he took a moment to look over you. “You really didn’t believe in me did you? Poor thing, I can sense your confusion from miles away,” he cooed with another laugh, “let me guess you were tricked into doing this weren’t you? Your friends dragged you out here then ran away at the first sign of danger?” Your eyes widened at his observation, staring down at the ground while you played with the hem of your dress.

“How did you know that?”

“My Sweet Y/N I’ve ruled over these parts for centuries, I know everything. Also you wouldn’t be the first pure soul to find yourself in this predicament,” he explained, reaching a hand out to brush your hair out of your face. You flinched slightly from the sudden contact, but you couldn't deny there was a strange warmth behind his touch, a welcome sensation that nearly had you leaning against his hand as he pulled away. “I must say,” he confessed, “of everyone who has called upon me, you are definitely the most beautiful, and the most innocent. You are exactly what I have been looking for.” With a pleased smile, he stood up straight and offered you his hand, which you took after a moment of hesitation, “Come with me, it’s time I show you your new home.”

“New home?” you questioned, “what do you mean new home? And what do you mean I’m what you’ve been looking for?”

“I have waited years for the right soul to turn up, to complete me and help tie me to the mortal world and I have finally found it,” San explained as he tugged you along, “you my darling, are going to be my bride.”

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

You don’t remember much of what happened after San pulled you away, almost as if you had blacked out. When you woke up, you found yourself tucked into a large bed, having been changed out of your costume and into a red silk nightgown. Your hair was also down and brushed out and your makeup had been removed. You sat up slowly, hugging the black comforter against your body and taking a moment to look around the room. It was a large master bedroom, mainly decorated with black, red, and gold. The bed was on a carved wooden frame with a swirling pattern carved into it at the base. There were also black curtains surrounding the frame that were currently tied up to allow you to see the rest of the room. There were no windows, all the light coming from the chandelier that hung over the middle of the room, casting a warm glow into the otherwise black room. The rest of the furniture that you could see was the same carved wood as the bed frame, and the room was decorated with various paintings and trinkets.

“I was wondering when you would wake up,” turning your head, you gasped as you saw San standing against the door, “I know the transition to here isn’t the smoothest, but I was starting to worry I may have lost you.”

“Where am I?” you questioned, curling up as much as you could. San looked no different than when you first saw him, and yet his gaze made you feel tiny.

“You’re home,” he explained as he made his way to the foot of the bed, “and this is your new bedroom. Do you like it? I can always redecorate for you if you want me to.” The warmth in his voice didn’t match his gaze which sent shivers down your body. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to fear him or find comfort in him.

“I don’t understand,” you whispered, causing him to smile.

“I know you’re still confused, don’t worry it will all make sense soon enough,” he promised, “for now I want to take this time to really get to know you before I claim you as mine.” You were frozen in place as you watched him remove his suit jacket, his wings practically vanishing to avoid getting in the way. He tossed the garment carelessly to the side, rolling up his sleeves and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt before climbing onto the bed and making his way over to you. You gasped as the comforter was removed and you were pinned to the bed, San crawling on top of you and resting his weight on your hips to keep you from moving. Your arms were pulled above your head, San pinning them above you before snapping his fingers and leaning back. You felt a cold metal appear around your wrists and glanced up to see black chains connecting you to the bedpost, the metal jingling lightly as you tugged at the new restraint.

“Can’t have you running away now can we?” San teased, “I really did want to take my time with you at first but you have no idea how long I have been waiting for this moment. I don’t plan on waiting any longer.” With that he leaned down and connected your lips in a rough but passionate kiss, biting at your lip as his hands eagerly explored your body. You were frozen in place at first, taken aback by the rough movements. You weren’t a virgin by any means, but most of your previous sexual experiences had been rather vanilla so this was a brand new experience for you. Eventually you were able to melt into him, slowly starting to kiss back and react which earned you a pleased hum from San. His hands trailed back up to the neckline of your nightgown and he quickly ripped the fabric from your body as his tongue slipped its way into your mouth. You gasped at the sudden chill that ran down your body, only to moan as you felt his hands return to your chest.

“Look at you,” he groaned as he pulled away from the kiss, “such a pretty innocent thing in such a sinful position, I love it.” His fingers pinched at your nipples which had you arching your back and moaning softly.

“San please,” you whined out, tugging weakly on your restraints. San gave you a questioning look and clicked his tongue, pinching your nipple harder to make you squirm.

“What did you just call me?” he asked, before you could answer he reached up and grabbed your chin to make sure you were looking at him. “As much as I love to hear you beg for me, you are only allowed to address me as Sir, understood?” You nodded as best as you could with his grip on you which only made him huff, “Use your words brat.”

“Yes Sir,” you muttered out, making him smirk.

“Good, now lay still and behave while I claim what’s mine!” He let go of your face and repositioned himself, gripping your thighs tightly and spreading them so he could fit between them. You knew you were going to have bruises later, but that didn’t matter right now as San began trailing kisses up your leg. He trailed kisses up the inside of your thigh before biting down, relishing in the way you gasped and squirmed against his touch. He sucked on the spot until he was sure a mark was formed before running his tongue across it and moving to the other thigh to give it the same treatment. He continued the action multiple times until your thighs were visibly covered in bite marks, each time relishing in the noise you made at the combination of pain and pleasure. You tried closing your legs but his grip tightened every time you moved to keep them open, forcing you to lay still until he was satisfied with his work.

“You look so much prettier covered in my marks, maybe next time I’ll try spelling my name” he hummed, placing one last kiss on the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your core but not quite where you needed him. The teasing made you whine which in turn caused him to chuckle. “Since you were so good for me, I’ll give you a little reward, tell Sir what you want,” he cooed, tracing his fingers across your hip.

“I want you to touch me,” you begged without hesitation, “please Sir I’ll continue to be good just please touch me!”

“I know you will,” San muttered, reaching a hand down and running a finger teasingly between your folds, “already so wet and I’ve barely even touched you. I don’t know if you’ll be able to handle much more.” You were about to argue that you could when he slid a finger into you, wasting no time before moving at a moderate pace. Within seconds he had found that special spot inside of you, making you cry out as he rubbed against it every time he inserted his finger. “So sensitive and so tight,” San mused, inserting another finger, “I am going to absolutely ruin you.” Your moans grew louder as his pace quickened, making a scissoring motion with his fingers and adding a third to thoroughly stretch you out. You started bucking your hips and grinding against his hand as you felt your orgasm approaching, desperate for release. San noticed this, chuckling to himself as he pressed his free hand on your lower stomach to keep you from moving. The action also made you feel the pressure of his fingers more and pushed you over the edge before you could find the words to warn him.

Sans pace never faltered as you rode out your orgasm, pushing you into overstimulation before quickly removing himself from you entirely. You whined at the sudden loss of contact, bucking your hips into the air as you tried to catch your breath and come down from your high.

“I’m disappointed I thought you said you would behave,” San said flatly as he wiped his fingers off on his shirt. You watched as he crawled away from you and off of the bed and for a moment you were worried that he was going to leave you like that. Broken apologies fell from your mouth combined with pleas for him not to stop as you tugged painfully at the chains holding you down. San relished in your begging before quickly silencing you with a wave of his hand, “Because this is our first time I will be nice just this once, but I don’t want to hear any complaints if I continue, got it?” “Yes Sir I promise,” you reply almost immediately. You hear San mutter something under his breath briefly before you suddenly feel the chains around your wrists disappear.

“Can’t have you hurting yourself,” he explained, undoing his pants and kicking them off before climbing back on top of you, “besides, you’ll probably want to hold on for this.” You do as he suggested and wrap your arms around his neck as you feel his tip at your entrance. “Keep your eyes on me,” he ordered, placing one hand by your head to hold himself up as the other helped guide his length into you. It was hard not to let your eyes roll back as you felt him stretch you, feeling fuller than you ever did with your past partners. San groaned softly as he bottomed out, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment as he felt your walls squeeze around him. It took everything in his power not to just pin you down and rail you right then, but he didn’t want to hurt you.

The second he felt you relax he started moving, gradually speeding up until he was thrusting into you at an inhuman speed. The arm that wasn’t supporting his weight moving to grab your hip and pull you against him with each thrust. By this point you had given up on keeping eye contact, wrapping your arms and legs around him as tightly as possible and burying your head in his shoulder to hide your sounds. San didn’t seem to care though, occupying himself with marking your neck as he continued his movements. You were still sensitive from your first orgasm, so it didn’t take long for the second one to wash over you, making you scream against his shoulder as he continued. San slowed down his pace enough to help you ride it out before picking up again to chase his own release.

“Sir please!” you whined, grabbing desperately at his shirt while your other hand moved to grab at his horn. San groaned loudly at the action, hips faltering for a moment.

“You can handle one more,” he grunted, “just hold on for me.” It didn’t take long for him to reach his orgasm, groaning loudly and pulling you against him as he released inside of you. The feeling pushed you into your third orgasm as you went limp in his hold, almost feeling like you were going to pass out.

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

As if a switch had flipped inside of San, you felt him gently pull out of you and help you lay back before carefully rolling off of you. Before you could whine about the loss of contact he had rolled onto his back and pulled you into his chest, pulling the covers over both of you to keep you warm. He would clean you up and help you get dressed once he knew you had fallen asleep. For right now though he knew you were probably sensitive and he wanted to give you time to come down from your headspace before he risked moving you and making you uncomfortable. One hand began gently playing with your hair while the other traced down your body, occasionally stopping to massage a particularly sore spot. You allowed yourself to melt into his embrace, feeling his warmth and scent which almost reminded you of fall. You had almost fallen asleep when you heard him speak again.

“I didn’t mean to actually go that rough,” he confessed, “I never want to hurt you. There’s just something about you though that awakens something in me. I knew it from the moment I laid my eyes on you, I needed to have you and I can’t let you go.” You couldn’t really process what he was saying, let alone a response, so instead you hummed contently against his chest. San couldn’t help but smile down at you, hugging you a bit tighter to him. “I know you probably can’t understand me and I know you may not like me very much tomorrow but I hope you will enjoy it here. I mean it when you say you are mine. The person I will marry and bond myself to, and the one I will spend eternity protecting.” By this point he was just rambling as you had fallen asleep, but he continued with all of his promises as if you would be able to hear and understand him.

San had waited centuries for the right soul to find him the one that would finally complete him without being destroyed or corrupted, something that could truly tie him to the mortal realm. Spending every October being dragged around by people who were hoping for an eternal favor. He always gave them what they wanted, but normally they weren’t able to handle the consequences. It had become a chore for him at this point, at least until he was called to you. He could feel the connection in you immediately, calling for him. He would give you the ultimate gift, eternal life and youth, and all you had to give him in return was your love and loyalty.

Ateez taglist: N/A

Please see my pinned post to be added to the taglist.

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kmomof4 · 1 year ago

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Signal boost!!!! Ohhhhh, can’t WAIT!!!! Already got several fics in mind!!!

HALLOWEEN RECS NOW OPEN!!!

Have a favorite Halloween (or spooky themed) CaptainSwan fanfiction/fanart/gifset/other fanwork? Now's the time to send them in!

Here's how it works:

From September 3-14th, you can go to this link and fill out the form!

From the 15th-31st, our mods will go over all the works sent in.

From October 1st-31st, we'll be sharing all the works sent in here on this page, so make sure to give us a follow!

Other rules and terms 🎃 All of the works submitted for this event must primarily feature Captain Swan, though the presence of other ships in a work does not disqualify it! 🎃 All of the works submitted for this event must primarily focus on Halloween, be in some way spooky, contain supernatural/monsters, or in some other way be Halloween related. If it doesn't fit one of the first three criteria, please specify at the end of the form why you think it should be included in this event. 🎃 This event does not require any kind of sign-up. 🎃 You may submit as many works as you would like, but if you choose to do so, fill out a separate form each time. 🎃 You are allowed (and encouraged!) to refer your own works! 🎃 Planning on posting something Halloween/Spooky themed this October and want us to share it? Just tag @captainswanholidayspecialreruns when you post it, and we'll share it here. 🎃 Mature content is allowed, but only under a readmore or as an ao3 link, and will be marked with an easily recognizable "after dark" banner. If you're posting a mature fic but don't know how to add a keep reading tab, send us a dm and we'll help you out. 🎃 If a work is referred by someone other than its original poster, we will be contacting the poster to ask if it's okay to share their work in this event. 🎃 The goal here is to spread positivity for a lot of the fanworks out there, not to spew hate. As such, anyone who responds to a posted work with negativity, hate, or unwarranted criticism will be blocked from this blog permanently. 🎃 We reserve the right to not share a requested work, even without a good reason. However, since our goal is to share as many works and as much CS love as possible, we will try to avoid doing this.

Stay spooky, loves!

👻 kazzy and the CSHSR crewmates!

#cs ff #captainswanholidayspecialreruns #cshsrr #Halloween recs #cs fic rec #signal boost

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midnight-mourning · 1 month ago

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Midnight-Mourning Writing Masterpost

Realized my intro was getting kind of crowded, SO, decided to move all my writing links to here, along with a little bit of yapping. Enjoy!

He's a Little Confused But He's Got the Spirit (updates WILL be weekly when I finish fighting off this sinus infection)

My current main project, a five-arc, multi-chapter fic that follows an engineer Reader just trying to survive adulthood, taking care of their siblings, and anything else that comes their way. That includes the Daycare Attendant.

Reader uses she/they pronouns, and Sun & Moon are not considered siblings or lovers, but a secret third thing (read and find out what lol)

This is a slow-burn, sfw fic, but all other tags and content warnings can be found in the fic, additionally there are spoiler present in the chapter titles and in the comments of this fic, just a heads up

Status: In-Progress, currently in Arc 3

Word Count: 195,390 (Currently)

General fic things:

Anything related to Confused Spirit is tagged as #Confused Spirit on my blog

If you would like to be included on the tag list for Confused Spirit updates, or just for when I post writing, you can message me, or reply in some way to this post

Writing requests are tagged under #writing requests

I am currently AM taking requests, for the month of December! See here for more detail

General rules are no nsfw (suggestive content is fine), and if you want something specific in your request, be specific, otherwise it's free-range

Happy Birthday!

Series of drabbles I made from Reveal-Day requests, each consisting of 250-500 words

Reader is gender-neutral, Sun & Moon are not siblings or lovers, all fics can be considered sfw

Some drabbles may relate to Confused Spirit, and may or may not be considered canon

You can browse the tag #reveal day drabbles OR read them on Ao3 using the above link

Status: Complete!

Word Count: 1,949

Better Strangers. (Unless?)

One shot I made for a milestone celebration! Takes place in the CS universe, is canon, but will never be mentioned in the fic itself

I highly suggest reading Confused Spirit to some extent before reading this as a lot of references won't be understood otherwise lol

Much like Confused Spirit, reader uses she/they pronouns, Sun & Moon are not siblings or lovers

This is a sfw, stand-alone fic, if you would perfer to read it on Ao3 you can do so with this link

Status: Complete!

Word Count: 7,500

RESTART

My submission for an angst event! Based on the storyline presented in my Promptober Day 29 response. You do not have to read it to understand this, but you can if you'd like ^-^

Reader is gender-neutral, Sun & Moon are not siblings or lovers

This is a sfw, stand-alone fic, if you would perfer to read it on Ao3 you can do so with this link

Status: Complete!

Word Count: 2,998

🎃Halloween-Based fics🎃:

Dead Ringer

My Secret Skeleton for 2024!

Takes place in the Sleuth Jesters au, with a bit of a spooky twist

All characters are based on their SJ! characterizations, with the original au of course belonging to @/NaffEclipse and @/sunnys-aesthetic respectively

This is a stand-alone, sfw fic, but all other tags and content warnings can be found in the fic

Status: Complete!

Word Count: 8,313

Promptober Masterlist

A masterlist with links to all of my promptober responses, credit to @/bluerasbunny for the prompts!

Each of these fics is angsty, suggestive, or horror-filled (or all three) in some way, content warnings are provided at the beginning of each work, reader is gender-neutral

Day 31 in particular is the grand finale, sitting as a 6K oneshot related in part to Confused Spirit (may or may not be considered canon)

The masterlist contains an ao3 link, with all the prompt responses that have been reviewed/edited for mistakes.

All prompt responses can be read as stand-alone, but there are some continous storylines/overlap between some, generally considered sfw but reader descretion is advised while reading

Status: Complete!

Word Count: Still counting 😅

Borrowed Time

A 'part-two' in a way to Day 31 of promptober, it is essentially a bonus one-shot based also in Confused Spirit (may or may not be considered canon)

It is HIGHLY SUGGESTED to read Day 31 of Promptober before reading this, it will be less impactful/make less sense otherwise

Much like Confused Spirit, reader uses she/they pronouns, Sun & Moon are not siblings or lovers

This is a sfw, stand-alone fic, if you would perfer to read it on Ao3 you can do so with this link

Status: Complete!

Word Count: 5,511

❄️Holiday/Christmas-Based fics❄️:

Midnight's DCA December

Series of requests I'm working on for December! Will reupload to ao3 when I have time

Consists of multiple different drabble-like posts featuring mainly the dca x reader in some regard

Each piece is about 1000-2000 words in length give or take a few 😅

All of these can be read as stand-alone, save for Day 7 which will be a continued fic sometime soon :)

All of these works are sfw, and unless stated otherwise Sun & Moon are not siblings or lovers

Status: In-Progress

Word Count: Still Counting ^-^

#This took some time to put together so I hope it's helpful <3 #Confused Spirit #Secret Skeleton #dcatober24 #reveal-day drabbles #fnaf dca #dca fandom #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #dca fic #x reader

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kmomof4 · 9 days ago

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12 (Actually 13) Days of Captain Swan Fic Recs!!!

And now here is Day 6 of my 12 (Actually 13) Days of CS Fic Recs!!! @zaharadessert specializes in turning the angst up to about a 12, but the payoff she gives makes all the pain to get there sooooo worth it!!! So here are my very favorites of her fics!!

Get Your Motor Running - Rated E - Emma Nolan is driving home to Storybrooke having finished college, when her car breaks down. With no cell service the only thing in walking distance is the local biker bar…

Canticum Sanguinis Lux - Rated E - Once, all Emma Nolan wanted was a normal life, but when she had a run in with a vampire as a teenager she realised that she couldn’t escape the life of a hunter. Now all she wants to do is prove herself, and she’s going to end up going above and beyond to be the hunter the world needs her to be.

The Halloween Gambit - Rated M - Bar wench and orphan, Emma Swan is taken captive to lure Captain Hook to the noose. Things don't turn out as her captors expect.

The Heart of the Savior - Rated E -

One night, in every corner of every magical realm, every boy aged nine to seventeen disappeared. Not one remained. That was when Pan made himself known to the realms, and from that night the eve of every boy’s ninth birthday meant their disappearance, until finally the realms demanded to know what he wanted to return their children to them. Pan told them he wanted the saviour, and while most realms were confused Snow and David knew what he meant and confessed the role their daughter was supposed to have played in breaking the curse. The realms voted and agreed to Pan’s terms, and Pan stopped taking the realms sons, holding the children he’d currently taken as insurance of their compliance.

For the next fifteen years Emma’s birthday wasn’t a celebration, it was another tick on the countdown clock to the end of her freedom. Not that she was ever free in the first place, but to save every male child in the United Realms including her younger brother, Leo… She understood that she had a job to do, and she would do her duty with her head held high. What she didn’t count on was the sparkling blue eyes of the man Pan sends to escort her to Neverland in time for her twenty-first birthday.

A Dream of Home - Rated E - Life with the Gold Pack has never been smooth sailing for Emma Swan, and things are getting worse now the pack leader's son has decided he wants her for his mate. Nothing she says or does seems to deter him, or deter his parents from encouraging the match. Emma's only hope is a promise someone made her seventeen years ago; a promise she's forgotten about in all but the deepest recesses of her dreams.

Fallen Angel - Rated M - Forced into a marriage she didn’t want with a man she didn’t love when her parents died, Emma Nolan did everything she could to make the best of it. But when he died, leaving her with an infant son, she realised the depths of his disregard for her and the sanctity of their marriage. Not only was he a gambler, he spent his winnings on his mistresses and left his young wife and with enough debt that she ended up in a workhouse. A workhouse which, like everything she used to own, has just been sold, and the new owner is coming by to survey his new purchase.

I Did Right series - Rated E -

chaos reigned supreme in Central Park yesterday, when the Mayor’s foster son was kidnapped in broad daylight under the supposedly watchful eye of hired staff. The mayor’s office has yet to make an official statement…

When Henry is kidnapped while Regina should have been taking care of him Emma is furious and resolves to do whatever it takes to get her son back. But will the CARD Agent sent by the FBI to help handle the case be more of a distraction than a help, or can he manage to be just enough of both to make this work?

All of Zahara's fics are fantastic, but these are my personal favorites. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have!! See you tomorrow for Day 7!!!

#12 days of cs fic recs #actually 13 #day 6 #krystal recs #zaharadessert

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searchingwardrobes · 6 years ago

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Hope is the Thing With Feathers: 3/4

@hollyethecurious and I started this fic as a gift to @kmomof4 for her birthday. Fittingly, it keeps getting longer because I swear Krystal is a muse disguised as a human being. Story banner created by Hollye as well.

Summary: Emma and her son Henry move to the tiny, quirky town of Hopeful, Maine for a fresh start. Emma isn’t expecting her son to get obsessed with a haunted castle or for her to get involved with the mysterious, handsome man who lives in the cabin behind it. Emma soon discovers that both the castle and the man have secrets that she could never have imagined. For @kmomof4 on her birthday.

Rating: M (yes, I upped the rating. This isn’t smut, but I definitely flirted with the line. All for you, Krystal!)

Words: 2,000 and some change in this chapter

Can also be read on Ao3

Trigger warnings: positive portrayal of past Millian

Tagging: @artistic-writer @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jennjenn615 @bethacaciakay @thislassishooked @teamhook @kday426 @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @let-it-raines @branlovestowrite @shireness-says (for some reason, I have no tag list for this, so I’m flying blind here! Hope I didn’t forget anyone!)

Chapter Three: And On the Strangest Sea

“Get off your ass. You’re taking me on a date.”

Emma Swan bursting through his front door with a demand upon her lips wasn’t how Killian foresaw his evening going. He set the beer he’d been nursing down on the coffee table next to his bowl of evening stew, Emma seemed to take that as Killian not taking her seriously judging by the scowl on her face and the way she fisted her hands on her hips.

“Did you not hear me, Jones?”

Killian lifted both hands in surrender. “I heard you, love, I’m just a bit taken aback by the delivery.”

She shuffled nervously, but the spark of anger remained in her eyes. “Well, I’m here to ask you out, okay. Like to dinner or something.”

Killian arched a brow. “Now?”

“Yes now!” she practically shouted. “So why are you still sitting there?”

He rose from the couch and approached her cautiously. He gave her a flirtatious grin as he fiddled with the ends of her hair. “A man likes to be wooed, love. Why the demand?”

Her brow wrinkled as she searched his face frantically. “Come on, Killian, let’s get out of here and go somewhere.”

“What’s happened, Swan? You were fine when you left here the other day.”

She worried her bottom lip. “Maybe I want to be sure it wasn’t just sex for you. Is it so wrong to ask that you take me out?”

He rubbed her arms up and down. “Of course, but give me time to plan the evening. You can come here tomorrow night, and I’ll serve you the best meal you’ve ever eaten.”

Emma shook her head vehemently, stepping quickly away from his embrace. “No, I want you to take me somewhere.”

He swallowed down the sudden fear that welled up inside and forced himself to smile charmingly. “Perhaps a picnic then, I know the perfect spot -”

“A restaurant,” Emma interrupted firmly, “maybe even a movie.”

He felt the color drain from his face. “I prefer a more intimate setting.”

She stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest. “We’ve done intimate. I want to go out.”

He let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed wearily at his forehead. “Emma, I just don’t like being around people.”

“Bull shit. You are many things, Killian Jones, but a recluse is not one of them. It doesn’t suit your personality.”

“Oh, really,” Killian snapped, stepping into her personal space, “you think you know me so well?”

“Actually, I don’t think I know you at all!”

She shouted the words so loudly, it startled them both into silence. He felt a knife twist in his gut as Emma’s face fell into a mask of hurt.

“Are you a ghost?” she whispered.

His eyes widened. “What I am . . . who I am . . . you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Killian collapsed onto the couch and rested his arms on his knees. He gestured to his dinner. “Ghosts don’t eat, Swan. Do they?”

She eyed him and then his stew as if she might run out the door any second. “No. I guess not.”

“I’m very much alive.” He winked at her in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Or did you not feel that the other day?”

She huffed out a wry laugh. “So why can’t you leave?”

“You’re quite perceptive, Swan. The best way to explain it is . . . I’m cursed.”

Emma blinked, but didn’t move. “That’s what Belle said, but I had a hard time believing it. You’re the pirate. The one who was Milah Gold’s lover.”

“Aye.”

Emma sank onto the couch, shaking her head in disbelief. “But . . . how? Why?”

Killian stood and paced to the window. “Gold cast the spell first, on Milah, after he learned of our dalliance. He knew it was the only way he could keep her. Milah and I truly loved one another, but she also craved freedom. She longed to travel and see the world.”

“No wonder she fell for a pirate.”

Killian turned to see Emma smiling at him. He nodded. “Gold assumed I would sail away and forget her. He didn’t know how deep our feelings ran.”

“But you couldn’t just give up the sea . . . or did you?”

Killian chuckled, rubbing at his jaw. “You sound like Milah. She wouldn’t hear of me giving up my ship.” He stepped closer to Emma and extended his hand. “Come, I’d like to show you something.”

Emma tilted her head skeptically, yet she took his hand anyway. He searched her eyes.

“You have nothing to fear from me, Emma,” he told her sincerely, squeezing her hand.

She nodded. “I trust you.”

*****************************************************

Emma stood in awe, her hair blowing on the wind gusting up from the sea. The sound of waves breaking on the rocky Maine coast was as soothing as the warm sun beating down upon her face. It was like something out of a movie, this jagged cliff with a pristine view of the sea.

“This is one of the farthest boundaries of my curse,” Killian said softly at her side, “and Milah’s before me. She would watch for my ship from this very spot as often as she could, and I likewise would look up to this cliff as we approached Hopeful Harbor.”

His eyes were wistful as they gazed out at the gorgeous view.

“It’s so beautiful here,” Emma breathed out.

“Aye, the sea can be so calming,” he agreed. Then he gave her a wink. “Yet it can also turn volatile on a whim. Like a woman.”

Emma elbowed him, and he gave an exaggerated grunt. “So I take it you found reasons to come back to Hopeful often?”

“Naturally,” Killian agreed, settling down on the quilt he had laid out on the grass. “I wasn’t about to abandon the woman I loved. This was our meeting place.”

“Kind of exposed isn’t it?” Emma asked as she settled down beside him.

He arched a brow. “Makes it sort of thrilling, actually.” He inclined his head towards the tree line. “There was a spot over there in the forest as well, more secluded. We not only made up for lost time with moments of intimacy, we also racked our brains trying to figure out how to break her bloody curse.”

“Belle said you dabbled in magic you didn’t understand.”

He chuckled. “That was an understatement. And those books of her husbands she smuggled out of the manor? They were the very ones the Hopeful parson caught her with that fateful day when everything changed.”

Emma put her hand on his arm gently. “I’m so sorry.”

Killian took her hand, rubbing his fingers over her knuckles. “I don’t know exactly what went wrong. All I know is the curse was transferred to me. And ironically, by freeing Milah, I gave the mob the power to kill her.”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

Emma took his arm and looped it over her shoulder. He pulled her close against him, pressing his lips to the top of her head. She leaned into him, closing her eyes as she relished the scent of him that enveloped her.

“So you can’t die?” she whispered.

“No,” he sighed, her hair fluttering under his breath, “there was a dark time when I tried to end my miserable existence. To no avail.”

“What about Gold? That had to be some strange karma, his wife’s lover stuck on his property.”

Killian chuckled. “Aye, that was the one silver lining in it, actually. I got my revenge rather spectacularly.”

Emma pulled away, her eyes wide. Not that she was scandalized. In her opinion, Gold got what was coming to him. “What did you do?”

That cocky grin of his filled his face. “I may not be a ghost, Swan, but I do a rather good impression of one. I can haunt people with the best of them. Robert Gold did indeed fall to his death from his third floor balcony, but it wasn’t because he was consumed with grief.”

Emma grinned back. “You didn’t!”

Killian raised both hands in defense. “Hey, I didn’t say I pushed the man. Physically, anyway. But mentally? I don’t think he could take my . . . haunting him anymore.”

Emma laughed, shaking her head at his smug expression. Killian lay back on the quilt, crossing one arm under his head and reaching the other out to her. She gladly came to him, settling in the crook of his arm and resting her cheek on his chest.

“How did you . . . live?”

“In the beginning my first mate was my connection to the outside world. He became Captain of my ship, but continued to share a portion of all the spoil. He also brought me provisions. I didn’t spend all my coin, squirreling away as much as I could.”

He fell silent as he ran his fingers through her hair. Emma twisted so she could look up at him. His expression had gone wistful again.

“Then, after Smee,” he continued, “there were others like Belle, like your boy, who had a heart of belief. Each one was a tenuous link to the rest of the world out there.” His jaw clenched and his arm tightened at her waist.

“But eventually they all . . . “ she couldn’t finish the thought.

“Aye,” was all he said. Finally, he looked at her again and flashed her a light-hearted smile. “Then technology advanced by leaps and bounds. Radio, TV, cell phones, the internet. Especially the internet. As time marched on, I withdrew more and more to avoid suspicion.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Until now.”

Emma rolled over, perching her chin on his chest. “It sounds lonely.”

“It was,” he said softly, tracing her jawline with his fingertips, “and I certainly never thought I could love again after losing my Milah,” he swallowed nervously before continuing, “that is until I met you.”

His words made the breath leave Emma’s lungs. Since she didn’t know what to say, she slid forward and pressed her lips to his.

*******************************************************

Killian had been right, there was something thrilling about making love out in the open in broad daylight. Though the sun was now dipping closer to the horizon, and the breeze was a cold gust. Killian had the quilt cocooned around their naked bodies. As she watched the sky turn yellow and red and felt Killian’s hand drawing circles on her back, she couldn’t think of being more content.

“We need to head back,” Killian told her softly, though he made no move to release her.

Emma didn’t move either, running her fingers instead lightly through his chest hair, their breaths rising and falling together. “This project with the manor . . . why is Belle so insistent on it? Won’t it make it harder for you to stay under the radar?”

Killian’s hand stilled on her back, and he cleared his throat nervously. “Belle has this crazy idea that she’s found a way to break my curse.”

“And how is that?”

“Um . . . you, actually.”

Emma sat abruptly, clutching the quilt to her chest. “What?”

Killian sat up too, and Emma tried not to be distracted by the fact that his muscular body was no longer covered.

“You see, the key ingredient in the spell I cast was the crushed wing of a cardinal. A symbol of freedom, or so I thought. And apparently, the other side of that coin is . . . a pure white Swan.”

Emma’s eyes narrowed. “So this is all about my name?”

Killian shrugged. “Belle thinks maybe it doesn’t have to be a literal Swan. Especially since she sensed a connection between us . . . “

Emma stood abruptly, reaching for her clothes discarded on the grass.

“Emma,” Killian said softly.

“So you what?” she snapped, her hands trembling as she slipped into her underwear. “You seduced me because of my last name? Thinking it might do the trick?”

He leapt up, heedless of his nudity, and reached out for her arm. “No, Emma, of course not. My feelings for you are real. I haven’t felt alive in a hundred years, and then your boy shows up -”

“Don’t bring Henry into this! Or are you interested in him too? Because he’s also a Swan?”

Emma shoved her feet into her boots, trembling all over. She blinked rapidly as she faced him, refusing to let him see her cry. “I trusted you!”

“And you were right to!”

She backed away, both hands up in warning. “I’m leaving, okay. Don’t follow me.”

As she turned away, he whispered, “As you wish.”

#cs ff #storybrooke is hopeful instead #alternate universe #cs ghost story kind of #cs halloween fic #for Krystal

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elytrafemme · 2 years ago

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also just remembered that i have like, at least 3 fics that im planning to write once i finish CS in that universe which i had forgotten about? because for a while i was planning on like, just finishing CS and then moving on to other fandom content, but CS barely feels like fandom content anymore its just my little guys so. i think i finish the main fic and then i go into like, writing other fandom stuff and then also CS oneshots

#nightmare.cough-syrup #because I'm doing a fic with cs!Wilbur and cs!Techno still #and then I have the fun halloween oneshot #and then i think I wanted to do something involving their futures but I haven't thought it out a ton #i might drop that its more that i just have a lot of thoughts about what happens post CS so #at some point i might go into it or i could just talk about it here when alls said and done

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thepirateandhisson · 3 years ago

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CS Halloweek: as sweet as candy

as sweet as candy - @cshalloweek Day 1

Day 1 Prompts (October 25th):

Treats / orange

pumpkin spice | witch in the woods | “get off me” | fiery

SUMMARY: The last thing Emma expects when she opens the door is a mini-me.

Trick-or-treaters of the building have knocked on their apartment door throughout the day, a range of Spider-Man’s, Batman’s, princesses, and a minion or two have all come asking for candy. Her Spotify playlist for the day is on repeat for the fourth time and it always brings an extra bounce to the kid’s steps. But to open the door and see a little blonde girl, curly hair straightened and wearing a red leather jacket that’s so small it’s adorable, Emma isn’t sure how to react.

RATING: T for language

WORD COUNT: 5,604 words

TAGS: Captain Swan, Halloween, CS Halloweek 2021, Costumes, Kids, Fluff

AO3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This was supposed to be a quick and short like drabble of a piece. And here we are. Also age wise, Alice is 6, Henry 11/12.

“Hey! Get off me, lady!” Greg Mendell yells. He struggles in her grip, throwing his elbow back and hitting her cheek. Emma stumbles in her heels but it isn’t enough to free him of her hold. She feels her blood boiling and his failed escape clearly has the same effect on her skip. “My father is a lawyer! I will sue you for everything you own, you f–”

Emma pushes him hard on the shoulder through the doors, one grip still on his cuffed hands behind his back. “Maybe he should give you legal advice on skipping your court date.”

She brings him to the front desk, her eyes scanning the bullpen to see if her brother is working. Instead, a head of curly blonde hair catches her eye and the look of awe on the young girl’s face captures her attention.

“Woah,” she sees the girl mouth, her tiny legs swinging on the office chair she sits upon.

She fells the girl’s eyes on her as she books the skip, and the moment Greg is firmly in police custody and she is ready to leave, the little girl comes bounding up to her.

“Are you an undercover cop?” she whispers so loudly that Emma is sure half the precinct heard.

“Uh, no,” Emma replies. Her lips quirk up as she shrugs her shoulders. “Sorry, kid.”

“Well, what are you?” the girl presses. Her eyes are wide in wonder, colored such a sharp blue that it takes Emma by surprise.

“I’m a bail bondsperson.” The little girl nods as if it all makes sense but Emma doubts she knows what a bondsperson is. “Are your parents nearby?” Emma asks. The girl’s face becomes pinched and her nose scrunches up before she nods her head.

“Yeah, my papa is in interrogation,” she says with a shrug, like being stuck in a police station is a normal routine.

Life experience taught Emma that it very well might be. She heard rumors of incidents happening to other foster kids, having been dragged to the station as a foster parent was arrested for one reason or another, waiting on the hard wooden benches for the social worker to pick them up. It happened to her once. Her foster father had been a creep and after one particular come-on that Emma escaped, she called up her social worker. She could see her foster father in the holding cell as she waited, the precinct of the small town too tiny and without any other seating to allow her privacy away from him.

He threw ugly words at her, threats that she wasn’t entirely sure were empty, and practically spit at her feet. The wait felt like years.

So Emma bends down in her dress and scans the girl’s face for any visible injuries, grateful to see none.

“I’m sure it can get pretty boring waiting. Are you doing okay?”

“I have my markers so it’s not too bad,” Alice answers. She has a dimple in one of her cheeks when she smiles wide and Emma fells her heart melt. It’s almost the same place as Henry’s.

“I’m Emma.”

“I’m –”

“Alice!” Emma stands abruptly and turns towards the voice, noticing a cop come rushing towards the lobby. He must be new, Emma thinks. Then her mind immediately catalogues how attractive he is. Strands of dark hair fall over his forehead before he pushes it back with his hand, a ring adorning his pointer finger. Scruff covers the sharp line of his jaw and winds around his mouth in a way that reminds Emma of those ridiculously good-looking Calvin Klein models on the posters in Time Squares.

She never swoons for a man in uniform – having her foster brother as a cop quickly deteriorated any fantasies she had in the past and nothing brought that line of thinking alive again. Until she sees the mystery man who looks like the uniform is made for him to be the wet dreams of every woman in a seven-mile radius. Seriously, he belongs on one of those raunchy novels at the grocery store checkout.

Damn it. He is gorgeous.

“Papa!” the girl’s voice calls from behind Emma and she watches as the blonde darts around her legs and jumps at the cop, his reaction time impeccable as he quickly bends down to grab her right as she leaps, swinging her up to rest on his hip.

Oh.

Her dad is a cop.

Emma lets out a sigh of relief.

“I thought I told you to stay at my desk and color until it was time to go, darling,” the man chastises, worry taking any heat out of his words. Damn. It. He has an accent too.

Alice wraps her arms around her father’s neck and leans in close to his ear. “But Papa, I needed to investigate,” she says in the same loud whisper as before.

“What did you need to investigate?” the man asks, mimicking his daughter’s tone with a smile at the little girl that Emma always dreamed of getting as a child.

“I needed to know if Emma was an undercover cop or not.” Her tiny hand curls into a fist, one finger pointing at Emma.

Alice’s father follows his daughter’s finger and he meets Emma’s eyes. It immediately becomes clear to her where Alice gets her blue eyes from, and Emma sucks in a breath at the image before her.

His blue eyes captivate her. They remind her of ocean water in the Caribbean and she is itching for a dip. He licks his lips and her eyes trace the movement subconsciously. She clears her throat to be rid of the indecent thoughts ready to be vocalized while he shakes his head.

The man shifts Alice to settle better on his side and reaches one hand out towards her.

“Killian Jones,” he says. Emma admires the way his tongue works over every letter of his name as she clasps her hand in his.

“Emma Swan.”

Before they can get much further, David comes bounding into the lobby, grinning wide. He spots their hands, still mid shake, and grins at them both.

“Killian, Alice!” he greets as he comes to stand at Emma’s side. They’ve dropped their hands, a hasty effort to right themselves as though they were doing anything wrong. “This is my sister, Emma.”

David tells her that when Killian had moved and was relocated to his unit, he suggested Emma’s building to him. Which really shouldn’t surprise her as David was anal when it came to finding her a new apartment once he got engaged to Mary Margaret. He ran crime reports of the area, searched out who did the usual patrols, looked up any reports made at each building she looked at, and printed it all out in a mess of a pile that left her overwhelmed. Mary Margaret had been kind enough to organize everything and put it in a binder. Helpful, but still overwhelming.

Apparently Killian and Alice moved in a month ago. She learns one day, her and Killian greeting each other on the landing outside their apartments because of course the gorgeous new cop who works with her brother lives across the hall, that it’s just the two of them. Alice’s mother is a situation he’d rather not revisit and she gets it. For the first few years of Henry’s life, it had been the same thing with Neal. Though Killian makes it known that Alice’s mother will never have a place in her life, for the good of Alice.

She sees the two of them more frequently after that, though Killian a great deal more than Alice. He seems to be at the station most times when she stops by with a skip or to bring her brother out for lunch. There’s a kindness, a polite distance, in their interactions but she can read the hunger in his eyes as well as her own. It lays dormant just under the surface and crackles to life when they get a rare moment alone. Neither of them moves on it though.

The first time Henry meets Killian, he sees the man outside his door searching through his wallet for a spare key.

“Are you supposed to be here?” Henry asks. Neal dropped him off downstairs after a weekend at his place and his backpack, filled with clothes and his Nintendo Switch, weighs heavy against his back.

“Uh, hello, lad,” Killian says, turning to face Henry with red on his cheeks and his finger coming up to rub behind his ear. “Aye. This is my dwelling, but unfortunately I seem to have locked myself out and misplaced my key…”

Henry looks him up and down, tells him to wait a moment, and keeps one eye on him as he unlocks his own door. He slams it shut quickly behind him and calls out to Emma.

“Mom!” He doesn’t see her immediately. Red leather jacket strewn atop the couch and boots flung by the small kitchen island, he figures his mom is probably in her room. He drops his duffle by the door and grabs the orange juice container from the fridge. “There’s a strange man loitering by the door!”

“What?!” Emma yells as she emerges from her room. She half-heartedly glares at her son drinking straight from the carton and quickly ties her wet hair up at the back of her neck. “What do you mean there’s a strange man by the door?”

Henry shrugs. “I’ve never seen him before and he’s just hanging out in the hallway.” He leans closer, and whispers like they’re discussing the secret identity of a James Bond villain, “He’s got an accent.”

One beat passes then two before Emma realizes that Henry is speaking about Killian. She sighs and shakes her head. “That’s our new neighbor.” Almost to the door, Emma turns to Henry. “Use a glass, kid.”

The contents of Killian’s wallet are strewn across the hallway floor, the man himself bent down by it as he shakes his wallet.

The scene is so perplexing. Every interaction with Killian since their initial greeting has brought her to the conclusion that the man is incapable of being anything but completely put together and suave. He offers a flirty comment occasionally, incredibly smooth with his delivery and lifting an eyebrow that can be construed as a challenge, and is considered the neatest and best organized officer in the precinct. That last bit is something she has to agree with. After dealing with David’s scrawl and Will’s illegible notes for far too long, it’s been refreshing to not have to work to understand what’s written on her paperwork. So she asks, “Is everything okay out here?”

Never before has she had the pleasure of seeing such a debonair man become so flustered. He licks his lips as he looks up at her from where he’s bent and Emma takes glee at watching the tips of his ears turn a bright pink.

“I’m not sure how much your lad has explained but it appears that I’m locked out of my apartment.”

And that’s how Emma shows off her lockpicking skills. A particular skillset that has always made her nervous or less than because of the necessity it came from, but Killian looks at her in wonder like she has magic in a land without it.

“Bloody brilliant,” he says with a grin. Her own cheeks heat this time and Killian’s soft smile hints at a smirk but he tapers it down. He turns the knob on his door and opens the apartment. It’s quiet, lights off, and she remembers Alice vaguely telling her earlier in the week about her very first sleepover and assumes Killian is getting his daughter later. “I owe you a glass of rum.”

“Raincheck on the rum?” she asks. “I’ve an eleven-year-old that probably lived off of pop tarts and cosmic brownies all weekend. I need to get some protein in him.”

Killian’s grin remains but his gaze is calculating. “Are you sure you’re not regaling me with your eating habits, Swan?” She rolls her eyes, lest he realize how true his statement is. “Let me know when I can pay up.”

It takes her another three weeks before she calls in that owed glass of rum. Henry swears that Killian was a pirate in a past life – because apparently only pirates utter ‘Aye’ – and she just needs to share that with someone and who better than the man in question. He takes the assessment with a hearty laugh and a grin that promises mischief. “I do love to pillage and plunder,” he says. Amusement laces his tone but Emma sees the hunger in his eyes that’s never dimmed.

Somehow, it starts a tradition.

Alice is adapting well to her new life in the city, making friends at the various summer camps and activities she’s been signed up for. The girl is excited about everything she sees and wants to try it all out at least once. Who is Killian to deny her that? That’s what he tells her, at least, and as she learns their similar pasts – no parents, time in the foster system, brothers who tried to offer them everything they had – she gets it.

For children with nothing, they want to give their kids everything.

It’s also why she agrees to let Henry go to a sleepaway camp for the first time ever. The brochure prided the eight-week writing workshop for preteens as being the best in the nation, with some notable young adult authors leading a few classes over the summer. Henry’s face lit up as he showed it to her and his words were coming a mile a minute. So she signed him up, no matter how much she’d miss him over the summer. Anything to make her kid happy.

On the nights when Emma was lonely without Henry and Killian had dropped Alice off at another sleepover, they shared a glass of rum. It’s easily the most effortless friendship Emma’s ever had in her life. There are no expectations of each other, from divulging secrets to keeping up conversation. She never knew she could feel such a comfortable peace just sitting quietly next to someone.

It’s not that they don’t want to talk to each other but more that they’re afraid. Silence is safe. Silence is guarded. Only after a particularly frustrating skip that seemed to call out all her insecurities did Emma babble into her glass of rum, her life story spilling out and she was no use to stop it.

Killian shares in kind. The lies Alice’s mother told him, the way she dropped the baby on his doorstep without a word. She’s almost not sure whose ex was worse but Killian reminds her it’s not a competition and at least they are free of the pain, and her anger settles somewhat.

When Henry returns at the end of August – practically a man because he spent his twelfth birthday away with friends and he’s suddenly become independent – and Alice’s sleepovers come to a slow as the school year starts, Emma and Killian find themselves struggling for a new routine.

What results is a weekly dinner together on Thursday nights. Once she made the mistake of telling Mary Margaret she couldn’t go to the movies because it’d cut into Family Dinner Night. The woman asked, saying David didn’t tell her they had plans and then Emma, red faced and wishing to be anywhere else, had to explain she just meant dinner with her neighbor and his daughter. She never heard the end of that.

Family Dinner Night.

She hates the way that rings in her head long after it slipped to Mary Margaret. It’s not like they’re actually a family. It’s just friends and their kids getting together once a week. They get tidbits of each other’s lives and their kids bond over school and Henry takes Alice under his wing without a second thought. She could get used to it.

And that’s what scares her. Because it’s easy to fall into that illusion that they’re one big happy family but they aren’t together and it’s just one night a week and even if she’s come to care for Alice and her father and they’ve done the same for her and Henry, she should keep her distance. They were too afraid of their own feelings beforehand but now that their kids have become close? A relationship was a no-go.

So they steal glances over dinner and brush hands as they pass the salad bowl and leave the hunger simmering beneath the surface never allowed to boil over.

A week before Halloween, Emma spots Greg Mendell in the grocery store. Killian lamented to her about being unable to find Alice’s seasonal favorite – pumpkin spice hot chocolate – and on her weekly run, she meanders down the aisle with her eyes on the lookout for the box.

Instead she sees the guy who continually skips his court dates and she groans.

Greg got out a day after Emma dropped him off, a new court date scheduled and someone else paying his bond this time, and then disappeared off the face of the planet. When he popped back up in the city, his file went to one of the senior bondspeople in her firm after being hired by the fiancée who footed the bill, trying to figure out new tactics since the man refuses to do the one thing required of him and show up at court. Emma was glad it wasn’t given to her. Honey traps were easy when they didn’t know who she was but if she had to deal with Greg again, it’d mean dropping Henry off at Neal’s so she could spend a night in the bug staking out Greg’s old haunts and hoping he showed up.

But here he was. Down the grocery aisle from her. And holding the last box of pumpkin spice hot chocolate.

She sucks in a deep breath, moves her grocery cart to the side, and then shakes out her arms. Her footsteps are steady and quiet as she approaches and it’s when she’s almost to him that he looks up and spots her. “Crap.”

One word and then he took off, hot chocolate box in one hand and grocery basket in the other. He maneuvered his way through the aisles, around the shopping carts of other customers, and through to the produce area. Emma is hot on his heels when he tosses the basket at her and she throws her arms up to protect her face. It bounces off of her forearms, the edge slipping through a small space to scratch above her eyebrow, and then she’s off again. She ducks the apples he picks up and throws at her and she even manages to catch one and toss it back, nailing him in the back of the head.

His stumble is enough for Emma to catch up and she tackles him to the ground just next to the cantaloupes. The pumpkin spice hot chocolate box is crumpled in his hand as she pulls his arms back to cuff him and she nearly growls. She chooses to focus on the bright side and the fact that now it can be hers. Whipping the box out of his hands, a pitiful moan falling from his lips, is almost as great as cuffing him.

The cut above her head is still bleeding by the time she gets home, slow drips of blood from under the band-aid sliding down her forehead, and a crinkled bag of take-out in her arms is all she has as proof of her efforts to grocery shop. The manager, at least, had given her the hot chocolate free of charge for stopping Greg’s assault.

Footsteps on the stairs behind her are Emma’s only warning before Alice comes bounding into the hallway.

“Emma!” she yells. She lurches forward to wrap her arms around her thighs and Emma grins.

“Hey, kid.”

Alice looks up and her mouth drops open. Emma furrows her brows in confusion only to wince. Right. The cut.

“Woah. What’s that from? Are you okay?” the little girl asks in wonder. Her arms still tightly encase Emma’s legs and it reminds her of when Henry did the same thing at her age.

“Bad guy. Don’t worry, I got him in the end.”

“Cool,” Alice grins. Emma nearly gasps in surprise at the sudden gap in the girl’s teeth. “Oh! Neat, isn’t it?” Her tongue pokes out of the gap where a front tooth once was and her grin widens. “Popped it out during school.”

“You did, did you?” Emma asks. She shifts the items in her hand to reach down and gently grasp Alice’s chin, inspecting the gap. After a moment, she grins at the girl. “That looks awesome.”

“There was blood everywhere!” Alice exclaims. She steps away from Emma and holds up the tooth in her hand. “It was all over my hand. I showed Billy Thompson my tooth and he started crying! It was great!”

“Starfish,” a voice calls from the stairs. Killian appears, his uniform in pristine condition as always, and an embarrassed look crosses his features. “What did I say about exaggerations?”

Alice pouts and Emma laughs softly, standing up and leaning against her door. “You got a monopoly on stretching the truth of your adventures?” she asks. Killian sends a smirk in her direction.

“I assure you, Swan, that tales of my exploits are most definitely not exaggerated.”

Emma’s nearly certain her gulp is loud enough for all of them to hear. Thankfully, Henry pokes his head out in search of food, sending a greeting to Killian and snagging their takeout before Alice bounds into Emma’s apartment, repeating her tale of her first lost tooth to her kid.

“You alright?” Killian nods his head towards the cut on her forehead and Emma reaches up to touch it, blood still wet.

“I’ll be fine. It’s superficial.”

“What happened?” Emma gestures him to follow her into her apartment. The pumpkin her and Henry carved the night before rests on the table next to the door. Their cutouts are sloppy and there’s still some pumpkin guts inside but Henry wanted to do the carving himself this year and even if his hand is mightier with a pen than a carving knife, she wanted to show everyone her son’s skills.

“Greg Mendell,” she answers quick before spotting Henry sneaking Alice some candy. “Hey! Nice try kid but put those back! They’re for trick-or-treaters.”

“Did the git skip again?”

“Yep,” she says. “This time on his fiancée.”

“Bloody hell.” She hums in agreement. Between the suspects he brings in and the guys that skips on the bail she put up, they see a rather unsavory lot of people.

“At least I got this.” She offers up the crushed box of pumpkin spice hot chocolate and he grins in delight.

“You’re a marvel, Swan.” Their eyes connect and don’t stray for a few moments until a drop of blood hits her eyebrow. His eyes linger on the cut and his eyebrows pull together in concern. “Who took care of that?”

“Scarlet.”

A deep sigh leaves his throat and as his breath brushes her nose, she realizes how close they are. From the corner of her eye, she can see that Henry and Alice are paying no mind, raised voicing indicating their shared excitement of their Halloween costumes. “Another git if you ask me. Scarlet apparently failed his first aid training three times before he passed. Never let him patch you up, love. Come.”

He ushers her to her bathroom like its his. Ruffling through the cabinets come with an ease and familiarity that makes her breath catch in her throat. He moves without a thought and Emma never had someone in her space before that could do that. When did this happen?

She licks her lips when Killian cups her jaw, turning her head to the side. It’s a stark contrast to the way she cradled Alice’s earlier. Where her touch was maternal, his has no name. There’s a gentleness in his fingertips and a care for the way he handles her, the brush of his hand soft and calming. He peels away the wet band-aid and Emma barely notices. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and Emma is left wondering if their close proximity is affecting him the way it is her.

“What the hell is that?!” she hisses. Her attempts to pull her head away yield no result as Killian keeps a tight hold on her chin, thumb rubbing against her dimple.

“Antiseptic.” His face is set in concentration. His lips pull in a frown as he wipes the edges of her cut. A mere few inches separate her mouth from Killian’s and the thought makes her chest tingle in a way she feels like she’s got a buildup of static electricity. She quickly focuses her gaze on the ghost decoration Henry put on the towel rack. Her thoughts are less dangerous that way. “Thanks for the confirmation that Scarlet’s an idiot and even forgot to do that.”

“I got it. Scarlet can’t be trusted for anything but cannon fodder.”

His answering grin is nearly blinding as he pauses in his task and meets her eyes. “Atta girl, Swan.” They maintain contact for a moment before he adds a bit more antiseptic and she hisses again.

“Can you use anything that doesn’t sting?!”

“There’s always rum.”

“I think that’d make it worse.”

“And it’d be a bloody waste of it, too.”

Killian steps back and grabs the band-aids from the bathroom cabinet next. It’s a box of animal designs she got while on sale and the man before her spends too much time searching through it before finally pulling one out.

She doesn’t question it. Killian is notoriously anal about some things and he probably deemed half the box to be full of bandages too small.

At least she doesn’t question it until she comes back to the kitchen and Henry laughs so hard that some of the rice from his Chinese food flies out of his nose.

“What?” she asks. She begins fixing a plate for herself and for Killian who insisted on cleaning up in the bathroom.

“Nice band-aid,” is all Henry responds with. She shoots him a look. Alice’s giggles have her questioning what is so funny. A quick check at her phone camera, Killian emerging from the bathroom with a shit-eating grin on his face that should irritate her instead of fluster her appearing in the background, and she has her answer.

He gave her a swan band-aid.

Knock, knock.

The last thing Emma expects when she opens the door is a mini-me.

“Hi Emma!” the sweet voice calls to her. Her smile in return is automatic.

“Hi, Alice,” Emma says. Her hand darts for the candy bowl Henry helped her put together before heading to Neal’s and she offers it to the girl who takes a piece. “You look awfully familiar.”

“Can you guess who I am?” A gap-toothed smile greets her eyes and Emma feels her heart warm. Every day since losing her tooth, Alice has come running to knock on her door after school and give an update on how her big girl tooth is coming in. There’s a little nub of white along the gumline and Alice shows it off constantly.

Emma inspects Alice’s outfit, adding a little bit of dramatics as she slowly walks around the giggling girl. She pushes her own wishful thinking aside and guesses. “Hannah Montana?”

“Noooo, silly! I’m you!”

It’s one thing to suspect it but another to confirm.

Crying is not something Emma does on a regular basis. Probably because of her emotionally stunted childhood. But she can probably count the number of occasions she’s cried on, most of them involving Henry. Her kid wrote a whole essay about how she was his hero and she cried for a week when she went to bed. Never did she think she could have something – someone – so great in her life.

(She also copied, laminated, and framed the essay to display in their living room and at work.)

But she feels the tears burning at the back of her eyes and she bends down to Alice’s level with a grin. “Are we sure it’s not Christmas? Because this feels like the best gift ever.”

Her breath leaves her lungs in a quick moment as Alice tosses her body against Emma’s to wrap her arms around her neck, pumpkin basket thumping against her back. Alice’s apartment door opens and she hears leather rubbing against leather.

“I take it you have no tricks, only treats?”

Emma turns her chin on Alice’s shoulder to look at Killian and her mouth dries. He stands in his doorway, legs clad in leather so tight she wonders how he got it on, shirt unbuttoned to nearly his stomach with chest hair on display for the world to see, and a heavy leather duster settling against his body. A fake plastic hook is latched onto the pocket of his leather pants and eyeliner frames his eyes in a way that make the blue seem brighter. “Happy Halloween, Swan.”

“Papa!” Alice exclaims, letting go of Emma to jump at Killian. He picks her up with the same soft smile he saves just for his daughter and if Emma wasn’t already on the ground, she probably would have swooned. Standing up, her hands brush the imaginary dust off of her legs and putting the candy bowl on the doorway table, she forces her attention on Alice.

“How about you go inside and pick a couple more candies? You can leave them at your apartment to save room for all the other treats you’ll get.”

“Thanks, Emma!”

In a blur of red, Alice wiggles her way out of her father’s arms and into Emma’s apartment. Killian stands there with all the bravado of Captain Hook left out in the middle of the sea as he scratches behind his ear.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he says, gesturing to where Alice kneels on a kitchen chair and is digging through the candy bowl. His cheeks don’t turn brighter but the tips of his ears do, to her great delight. “She was going to be Tinkerbell up until she saw you after the Greg Mendell incident a week ago. There was no changing her mind after that. She’s been quite taken with your profession since she met you.”

Perhaps it’s Nina Simone’s intoxicating voice emanating from her apartment singing about putting a spell on someone or it’s the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he grins at her. Perhaps it’s been the hunger clawing under the surface for months. But Emma takes a breath and takes a step.

“And her father?” Her voice is more breathless than she anticipated, quiet in the hall and meant only for them. Killian pushes off of the doorframe and moves that last step between them.

“I’d venture to say he’s been quite taken with you.” His eyes glance over her shoulder to check on Alice before focusing on her again. “This might be hard to believe but I think even more so than his daughter.”

She grins, huffing out a laugh, cups his cheek, and leans up to press a kiss to his lips. His hands are quick to grab her waist and pull her against him. The plastic hook digs into her hip and she can feel the cool metal of the extra rings he wears against the small of her back but she pays no mind, not when his mouth is moving over hers with such delicious intent and passion.

It’s as her fingers are threading through his hair and his is doing the same to her long locks that Alice makes her presence known to them.

“Does this mean you’ll finally let me put a fake cut on my head like Emma had last week?”

“Absolutely not.” Killian pulls away laughing and lifts Alice up. She knows the feeling. The one where you’re not sure whether the next time you pick up your kid will be the last because they’re too grown to want it anymore. It’s hard letting your kid grow up and be independent of you.

He turns to Emma, lips swollen and hair mussed, but his eyes alight with a sparkle and a fire she hadn’t seen before. Her own turn up in response. He winks – a terrible excuse for the action as he can barely keep one eye open doing it – and turns back to his daughter.

It’s hard, but at least they’re not alone.

The air is light and Emma can’t wait for Henry to return in a few hours so they can share stories about their holiday. Things might be looking a little different for them when Christmas comes around and the thought is as sweet as the treats in her candy bowl.

#cs halloweek #cs halloweek 2021 #halloween #my fics #captain swan #cs #cs fanfic #cs ff #emma swan #killian jones #henry mills #alice jones

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