#cs movie au

[snowbellewells]

CSSNS23 Fic Update: "Carolina Moon" Chapter Five

Sheesh, so much for getting back to weekly updates! I don't know what else to do but apologize folks, and to say thank you for hanging in there with me if you're still patiently reading this story despite my lack of speed. Please enjoy the newest chapter - the threat is ramping up, but so is Killian's determination to help keep Emma safe!

Thank you so, so, SO much for @xarandomdreamx and her wonderful beta skills - she had a job fixing all the times I switched tenses this go 'round!

And continued thanks to @eastwesthomeisbest for this cover art that I'm thrilled by all over again each time I post a new chapter!!

Read from the beginning HERE on Tumblr or HERE on AO3

Summary: Emma Swan has returned to the town she grew up in, and the past that has haunted her no matter where she has run. She seeks answers and peace at last. Despite the years that have passed, some things haven't changed very much in Storybrooke, South Carolina, and one of those things is Killian Jones. He never forgot the gangly girl with the world on her shoulders and pain in her eyes, but will he finally be able to slip past her defenses and help her find the answers she seeks?

Chapter Five: Unwanted Reunion and New Resolve

Killian Jones’ mind was everywhere but on the shipping manifests and cost reports he was attempting to look over in his small office down at the docks. Paperwork of that nature was his least favorite part of being the boss, and a tedious chore at the best of times, but with all he had witnessed the night before - Emma trembling in his arms, shaking from the sapping strength of her visions - he could find little space in his brain for inventory and figures. The sunlight glinting off the water out the window to his left and the gentle sound of the waves striking the moorings of the pier always tried to entice him from his desk on mornings he had to take alone to put the business in order, but with his concentration already severely fractured, he was making little to no headway. He’d dropped Emma off by her car at the gallery that morning, reluctantly aware that he had to give her a bit of space, and figuring that in the middle of town in broad daylight was the best time to do so and still retain his own peace of mind. He’d spent the night on her couch - against her protests that she sleep there instead - but all had been quiet, no signs of trouble. She’d planned to go to the diner to grab breakfast, then work for a few hours, and he’d pick her up that evening when they’d both finished for the day.

With a growl of frustration, Killian pushed his chair back and reclined in it, raking a hand through his dark hair, surely making it stand on end, and squeezing his eyes closed to block all the images rushing through, images that were already inside his head. He wanted to yell, to hit something - mostly his own younger self. How had they all been so blind and callous? Was this what Emma had always been dealing with? Even as a child? Rose would have known, would have been a support, a respite for Emma in the storm the rest of her life must have been. His baby sister, whom he’d doted on, but clearly not paid careful enough attention to, would have done nothing less. But when she was snatched away, and Emma blamed for the loss, despite what she had risked in order to help, it was just too late, the storm had surged back to surround her, raging and buffeting her more cruelly than ever. Though he had wondered briefly about the marks he could see that morning, and what had kept Emma from meeting Rose the night before, he had been too young and blind, too lost in his own grief and family concerns to reach out to her as he saw now he should have done. She had lost the only anchor in the maelstrom she had ever possessed, and he hadn’t bothered to toss her a lifeline. Leaning forward again, elbows planted on his cluttered desk, Killian rubbed his stubbled chin thoughtfully for a moment, trying to refocus on what he could do now to help her and show he wanted to ease her burden - would always, always, be at her side from now on, if she would allow it. Emma had said, when her defenses were still down and he had held her close, trying to imbue any bit of strength he could, that Rose wasn’t the only one - that there had been other victims.

Galvanized with sudden inspiration, he pushed his bookkeeping aside in a messy heap to one corner of his desk and quickly opened a new window on his laptop. If he wasn’t going to be able to focus on his own work, he might as well accomplish something worthwhile, something he could take to Emma as proof of how fully he took her at her word - a starting point for their inquiry. His eyes began to scan lines of text in rapid fascination - both amazed and appalled at the sheer amount of information at one’s fingertips once he chose to look, and at the horrifying reality of there being so much to be found.

He was soon fully engaged in the task, his other concerns slipping away with the minutes that ticked by until he could call it a day, and it suddenly felt as if he had managed some worthwhile work after all. Perhaps not for Jones Shipping Ltd., but important all the same. He tried not to picture the scoff and disappointed shake of the head his father would have given at that; Brennan Jones did nothing if not for the furtherance of their name and holdings, and his imagination’s echoes of the sharp retort that would be on his mother’s lips did no good either.

All the same, he was anxious to show Emma what he had turned up, and in only a couple hours’ searching. It wouldn’t be what one might call pleasant dinner conversation - certainly not what he’d usually entertain as fit for a second date - was he crazy to consider it as such?  He felt Emma would want to know all the same. It was proof that what she had seen the night before, horrifying as it must have been, was hardly mistaken or imagined. And it was a first stop toward finally uncovering the truth after all this time. Emma deserved to be set free at long last - they all did.

When it finally neared five o’clock, Killian had never locked up his office and left work so quickly. He headed straight for the town square and those mesmerizing green eyes he was eager to feel upon him again. He had been missing them for longer than he’d ever fully realized.

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The morning after intense visions Emma always felt a bit hazy, slightly dazed and headache-y, almost as though suffering from a mental hangover of sorts, from exerting such focus and emotion. That morning was no different, but she shuffled gingerly through her usual routine as always, wincing but not about to waste time recouping her strength if she still hoped to open for business as planned.

By the time she had returned to the gallery, a shocking amount of coffee in her system and a satisfyingly crisp and greasy bacon sandwich from the local diner in her stomach, she already felt more herself. She had called the young lady, Violet Clemens  back and hired her after all. She was going to need help, and the sale she had already made - to Ruby Jones, of all people! - had boosted her confidence. She might as well sink everything into this; if she went down, she would go down swinging with all she had.

Violet had joined her in the shop just after 12:30, and they had spent a cheerful couple of hours putting the last items and displays in place. The other woman had proven a real asset already: agreeable, quick, and a good eye to boot. She was pleasant company and a worthy distraction. Emma was already exceedingly glad of her presence.

It was just half past three when Emma paused to stretch, catch her breath, and survey their progress with a proud smile. There really wasn’t too much left after Killian’s help the previous day, and all that she and her new employee had just accomplished. Smiling broadly, she thanked Violet once more, and got them both a cold water bottle from the small fridge she’d had Killian’s help in nestling on the shelf under the counter. They were due a cool drink and a moment’s sit down, she felt sure. 

While they were still sipping their drinks perched on the tall stools she’d placed behind the counter, the bell above the shop door jangled merrily to announce the arrival of Mayor Walsh Ozman with his wide, charming-the-public smile. Emma stood and moved forward to greet her old acquaintance, asking what they could do for him, even though she was privately amused at how well the public servant schtick seemed to suit him. She would have never imagined that the unhappy, mean-spirited boy of their youth would be wearing that wide smile and winning local elections when they all grew up. Then again, she couldn’t have pictured much for her future either, not back then. Still, she mused curiously before returning her attention to Walsh’s reply, she would have to ask Killian if it was an election year and if Mayor Ozman was trying to win over these two newcomers to his town by turning on the charm.

As it turned out, the mayor was also hoping to make an early purchase - it seemed that he and his wife were quite close to their 15th anniversary, and having lived in Storybrooke all that time, he was anxious to shop for a gift somewhere completely unknown to her. He genuinely did want to offer any help he could as a town representative, but if he could find the right anniversary present at the same time, he would be incredibly grateful.

Violet happily began to show him around the shop, directing his attention to various framed photographs which might work especially well as romantic gifts - the close-up bud of a red rose, two swallows entwined in flight, a couple’s joined hands in silhouette against a sunset’s orange and gold. Not only that, but she kept up a lively patter of information that proved just what a sponge she had been for all of the information Emma had told her so far about her process, materials, and subject matter. Violet answered the mayor’s questions nearly as well as Emma herself could have done, and it pleased Emma more than she could say, thinking that not only had she helped someone in need of a job, but that she had managed to find someone with the pep and sweetness they needed out front, all the engaging personality she herself often fought to project, as well as a genuine interest in the art itself.

By the time Violet had shown Walsh all the way around the store cheerily, the mayor had a selected photo in hand once they returned to the counter and Emma was marvelling at how lucky she had been to find such a natural saleswoman along with all of Violet’s other positive traits. The red rose picture Walsh had selected seemed a touch obvious, but then, who was she to judge? She had chosen it to crop and display as she had because its blatant appeal almost guaranteed it would sell. They weren’t even officially open yet, and this was her second painting sold. If this could keep up, she might not have as hard a road making her gallery succeed as she had anticipated.

As she rang up the purchase and ran the mayor’s card, Violet carefully and efficiently wrapped the frame as she had been shown. Walsh grinned broadly the whole time as her new assistant prattled on. “You’ve really saved me a long, drawn out search with this, ladies. And Marjorie will love it too. Plus, it was a chance to keep business local. Your gallery is going to be a great addition for Storybrooke, just wait and see.”

“I certainly hope so,” Emma replied, a pleasantly warm glow of pride in her chest as she did so.

“You just give me a call if there’s anything I can do to help out,” he reminded again as he headed out the door with a wave. “It is part of my job, after all.”

When he was gone, Emma found that they really had accomplished nearly all that she had planned for the day. With heartfelt gratitude, she sent Violet off a bit early, promising that she was just going to lock up and make an early night of it herself as well. No need to tell the younger woman that she was going to be picked up at five like a kid after daycare for her own safety.

Violet hadn’t been gone but a few minutes before Emma had all in order and was gathering her things to leave, true to her word. She made sure the lights were out in the back office, that all was in its proper place, and was just bending to gather her things from under the counter, when she heard the door open once more, its bell chiming in announcement. Standing straight again, she had begun to speak before even seeing the person who had entered. “I’m sorry, but we’re not open for business yet. I was just leaving for the day, and - “ but the rest of her polite dismissal died on her tongue when she recognized the person who had arrived - a face she had hoped never to see again.

“Well, seeing as I’m already here, you’ll just have to make an exception, won’t you?” The question was taut and dangerous, hardly a question at all, though phrased as such. Every nerve in Emma’s body stood on end in response. Her limbs took on the same sort of wary motionlessness they had years ago, like a rabbit going statue-still in hopes of evading a predator’s notice, yet ready to dart away the moment an opening appeared.

Vic Franken hadn’t darkened her path again after she’d paid him off for her safety and peace of mind once he found her in Boston. Emma had hoped that fragile truce and space would hold, despite his breach of parole, but her former “guardian” never had been particularly wise, and he was eerily apt to return to what he knew, what was easiest, particularly when he was desperate. Emma wet her lips nervously and attempted to keep breathing calmly, steadily, focused on taking in any weakness she might be able to use to her own benefit. The past six or seven years had not been kind to him by the looks of it. Always tall and wiry, Franken appeared almost unhealthily gaunt, with dark shadows under eyes that were still as sharp and wild, darting quickly about the gallery space, to her, and back again. His clothes were worn and wrinkled, his hair stood on end in places, and he was moving closer, coming to stand just on the other side of the counter - much nearer than Emma could handle without her knees going a bit watery in spite of the fact that she wasn’t 13 anymore and she had every right to order him out of her place of business, whether he thought so or not.

“You s-shouldn’t be here,” she managed to say coolly, her voice only quavering slightly, for which she was grateful. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, intending to look serious, but also hoping to hold herself together as best she could.

“Damn it!” he howled, the loud exclamation ringing in the air between them as his large hand slammed down on the counter, rattling the surface with a bang, and causing Emma to shrink backward against her best effort to hold her ground. “You aren’t so high and mighty that you can just shove me out! I put a roof over you head, and you owe me for it! I’m not leaving ‘til I’m good an’ ready!”

At that, Emma regained herself through sheer outrage alone. This monster had made her childhood miserable, and she wasn’t about to have him barge in and take anything else from her. Standing taller and tipping her chin up to face him squarely, Emma’s spine returned to her after the shock of his appearance, while her hand scrambled carefully through her things beneath the countertop. She hoped Franken wouldn’t notice what she was doing before she could lay hands on the pocketknife she knew was somewhere in her purse. Granted, that wasn’t much of a weapon, but she wasn’t going to face him without any sort of defense - not ever again.

An eerie sort of calm washed over the man for a moment then, as if he and Emma were locked in a stalemate and her facing him steadily had given him pause. His exacting gaze continued to take in the large main room of her shop, and Emma held her breath, finally feeling her fingertips graze the handle she was searching for at the bottom of her purse. She knew better than to drop her guard; his quiet hesitation was like a hurricane’s eye, the calm before the gale began to batter and howl once more. Grasping her prize, Emma pulled it free and flicked it open, not wanting to show her hand too soon and yield the element of surprise if she had to wield it. 

As Franken returned his focus to her, an unnatural almost proud look crossed his features, as out of place as it was, particularly when an attempt at some sort of paternal smile twisted his visage. “Seems like you’ve done alright for yourself since I saw you last, Emma,” he finally murmured in a cajoling tone.

She snorted; regardless of how dangerous it might be to antagonize him, she couldn’t even pretend they were on terms to make friendly small talk. “If I am doing well, it’s no thanks to you,” she retorted bitterly.

Franken’s nostrils flared as he reeled back to his full height, the calm attempt at appealing to her good side shattered in an instant. “Ungrateful wench!” he hollered, eyes bulging wide as he swung a hand wildly, catching the edge of a large, framed portrait on the wall behind him and knocking it to the floor, where it crashed on its face and sent glass shattering outward in a wide spray. “After I took you in, fed you, clothed you, saw that you had a roof over your head? Now you’re too good to return the favor?”

Emma gasped in dismay at the largest piece in her gallery’s fall and destruction, but was quick enough to dodge his flailing hand when Franken reached out in an attempt to grab her shoulder and haul her close. She was just fast enough to evade him, thankfully. She might be fully grown now instead of a scrawny, underfed kid, but she still didn’t need to find out what he would do if he got a good hold on her. 

“Took me in?” she spat back, practically seething in anger that he would dare pretend he had actually provided any sort of genuine care. “Is that what you did?” Shaking her head in disbelief, Emma finally raised the small blade before her, as if warning him to keep his distance, even if there wasn’t much more space behind the counter for her to put between them. “Which part am I supposed to be grateful for, hmm?” she barrelled on, now that the gates were open, her words kept spilling out. “The beatings that left me so sore I could barely sit or walk for days afterward? The hours I spent locked in the pitch dark cellar as punishment for my demons? The shame and fear you made sure I never forgot from the moment I crossed the threshold of your house until the day I got away from it?” The small pocket knife wavered along with her hand, and her vision blurred with hot tears of frustration, but Emma didn’t falter. “Tell me what exactly I should be thanking you for?”

With a wild growl, he whirled away from her, grabbing frames from their hooks and hurling them against the walls or to the floor, knocking a large easel to the ground and smashing his foot through the canvas print it had held. He was on as much a tear as a toddler having a fit, but imminently more dangerous. Rounding on her again, his eyes were wild, and if possible, Emma would have sworn he was foaming at the mouth.

It was then, in desperation to save the work he hadn’t already destroyed, that she acted without thinking clearly and charged out from behind the counter she had carefully kept between them - so focused on making him leave that she left herself vulnerable by coming too close. “Get out!” Emma cried, mindless of his larger build and out of control demeanor; the threat he posed flying from her head as her work - the pictures she’d poured her heart and soul into, and the inventory she needed to keep her business afloat - clattered to the ground, breaking and being trashed before her eyes. She might still have the small blade gripped in her sweaty fingers, but she wasn’t thinking about defense as much as ridding herself of his presence before he destroyed her means of livelihood. “You have no right to anything from me! You need to get out of here before I call the police and tell them you’re in town!”

Franken whirled from the far wall where he’d been wreaking havoc and instead turned towards her seething with unrestrained rage. There were many times in her years growing up when Emma had feared that this man was unstable; dangerously obsessed with her “unholy” visions and driving them from her by any means necessary, and that his volatile fanaticism would injure her beyond what she could heal from or survive. Emma had spent far longer than was fair, wasted too much of her life, waiting to be out from under his thumb, no longer catching her breath and ducking a fist sure to fly or a bruising belt buckle if she said too much or let the wrong words slip. It had been long enough now though that she wasn’t guarding every thought and impulse, and she didn’t stop to second guess or recognize the danger as she took her stand. Willing to defend this little space she’d made for herself, even if it meant facing the monster from her past head-on and all alone.

The violence that twinkled maliciously in Franken’s deep, dark gaze should have been a warning, but Emma was too riled up and determined that this time she wasn’t backing down, wasn’t letting this pathetic excuse for a man take anything more from her. Where a younger, more wary version of herself would have shrunk back and put space between them, Emma instead pressed forward capitalizing on the man’s momentary shock. She wasn’t sure what she intended to try next if he didn’t move, but her body seemed determined to herd him out the door, with or without the full thought and cooperation of her racing brain.

Barely a moment’s warning, where a low, evil chuckle rumbled from his throat, evidencing anything but humor, was the only signal Emma got, and the next thing she knew, Franken had struck so fast she didn’t even see the movement - like a copperhead concealed in dank marsh water, having already bitten a person before one even knew it was there. Her head whipped to the side with the impact of his fist shooting out and making contact, leaving her ears ringing and her lungs gasping for air.

Emma struggled to keep her feet beneath her, even as the world around her tilted sideways. A wailing inside her head like sirens brought back all the times she had fallen before this monster as a child, curled tightly in a ball to protect herself from the blows he’d rained down on her for the smallest imagined infractions or the involuntary glimpses of prescient knowledge she couldn’t help possessing - they’d been part of who she was even then, as much a her hair or eye color, and they refused to stay hidden. Emma had attempted to - for all she was worth - having immediately learned speaking of what she saw, no matter how important it might seem, only earned her more suffering and degradation. 

Flailing her arms, she managed to catch the side of the counter and steady herself before she went tumbling to the floor. Franken was right there, coming for her again with his arm raised, no doubt reveling in the same sort of drunken power he had missed while the inexorable familiarity of the old, horrible pattern clutched Emma by the throat with fear. 

This time she wasn’t having it. She’d fight him even if it broke every bone in her body. With a cry of pain soaked in years of suffering unheard, Emma pushed off the counter, leading with the sharp pocket knife and sheer desperation, she meant to make her own mark this time. “Leave me alone!” she bellowed, as she took her first step to meet him.

But, despite his own seeming haze of madness and unsteady mind, Vic Franken was still quick and powerful as a gator and just as mean. Much like he’d always been, he was too large a foe for her to fell unprepared and without proper defenses. His meaty paw caught her wrist with crushing strength, until her fingers were forced to release her blade and it clattered to the floor and skittered away uselessly as she felt her tendons and bones ground painfully beneath his grip. 

He pulled her close to his face until their noses nearly touched, as if trying to understand why he couldn’t make her cower the way he once had. Emma could just begin to hear the blessed sound of sirens in the distance that she prayed were coming their way. Thank goodness she had shouldered the extra cost of hidden cameras and a security company who monitored their feed continuously. When he’d begun to tear her gallery apart it would have been obvious help was needed though she’d had no time to call for it.

“You think this is over?” he hissed angrily. “I’m not finished with you…far from it. You won’t be rid of me until I say so. Don’t you forget it.”

Flinging Emma away like a discarded ragdoll, she stumbled with the force of it, tripping on the debris that littered the floor and slamming back into the counter that had saved her minutes before. Franken fled out the door and was gone, and she slumped to the floor - for the moment too dizzy and aching to get up again. Trying to catch her breath and make her surroundings stop whirling around her, Emma breathed slowly, closing her eyes and allowing her head to lean groggily against the smooth, cool surface until she could gather her bearings.

The siren sounds drew nearer still, for which she was so thankful she could cry, but then she heard the door swing open once more, and she lurched frantically to attention, struggling to get her feet under her for fear that he had come back to finish her off. What she saw instead almost started her laughing hysterically, having never imagined this particular visitor’s appearance would send relief washing over her.

“Emma?” Ruby Jones’ voice was shocked and disbelieving, even concerned, all rolled into one as her heels click-clacked right across all the broken glass towards her before she crouched at her side, fingers already gingerly dabbing at the trickle of blood from the broken skin at her temple and then holding an honest-to-goodness monogrammed handkerchief to the spot. “What happened here?”

Emma reached out to still Ruby’s hand, shaking her head with as little force as possible and still wincing, “More who than what…” she managed, still trying to fully gather her wits and fighting for her speech not to sound slurred. She swallowed, wetting her lips and pressing on. “It was Franken….my old foster father…remember?” Ruby nodded, mouth and eyes both gaping wide at her. Emma sighed, “Thank - thank goodness it sounds like those sirens are close… don’t wanna tell this all more than once.”

“Vic Franken?” Ruby growled, her wide eyes narrowing. She looked for a second as if she might have clawed the man’s eyes out herself if she had been here just a little sooner. Emma again had to choke back out of place hilarity at the other woman’s defense of her. Rose would have loved it; she was just trying not to get whiplash. “What did that bastard think he was doing coming here?” Ruby snapped out.

Emma chuckled lightly, squinting against the way even that made her head hurt. Somehow Ruby’s fiery temper made her heart feel a little lighter. This nightmare was still dogging her, but the sheer absurdity of someone she’d have sworn even two days ago couldn’t stand her being ready to fight for her, lightened the dark cloud that had settled over her. Giving the former debutante a mischievous, if weary, side eye, she teased. “Whoo, Miss Ruby! That’s quite a mouth you’ve got there for a nice Southern belle! What would your Mama say?!”

Ruby rolled her eyes at the teasing with a dismissive snort, even as she let Emma grip her forearms and help her to stand again, holding on until sure she was steady. “Well, first she would have told me to walk on by and leave you where you fell, so clearly I don’t much care what she has to say.”

Emma began to nod her acknowledgement that what Ruby said was true, then quickly thought better of it at the shot of pain that lanced through her. 

Ruby shrugged, offering a crooked smile. “Besides,” she added ruefully, “Mama despaired of me a long time ago.”

Emma drew in a sharp breath, a few sadly clarifying things about Killian and Rose’s sister instantly becoming clear. 

“Now,” Ruby continued, red fingernail raised to point at Emma authoritatively, “you are gonna report this sorry excuse of a man so they can nail him to the wall, and then we’re gonna get you patched up, okay?”

Emma didn’t get to respond further as they were interrupted by what seemed to be the entire Storybrooke police force’s arrival just then, with a worried David Nolan leading the charge. She’d give her former defender credit. Though he looked half beside himself when he first burst through the door, his deputies flanking him, David quickly saw that the perpetrator was gone and, while she was injured and shaken, Emma was no longer in immediate danger and had someone at her side. With an almost visible effort, he reigned in his protectiveness and brought his anxiety back under stern professional control. 

Turning, he began capably barking out orders to his fellow officers - not unkindly, but feeling the urgency and not at all wanting to allow Franken to escape and cause this sort of damage again. Through the buzzing that seemed to have taken up residence in her brain, Emma heard David directing a perimeter to be set up to keep Franken from getting out of town, with an APB being put out with Franken’s name and description to all possible news outlets. He also organized the coordination of his people coming in to gather evidence and block off the space outside on the walk so gawkers couldn’t  make their way in and disturb anything that could aid in their search. 

Though there were an overwhelming number of people swarming all about inside the shop, Emma was grateful that only David himself came over to ask a few questions of her. Ruby had led her, wordless as she had ever seen the youngest Jones sibling, over to one of the tall stools at the counter, coaxing her into gingerly sitting down, being kind enough even to avert her gaze and hold back her own questions when Emma leaned slightly over, her still-spinning head against Ruby’s side as she attempted to swallow her nausea back down her throat. Ruby just rubbed a hand across Emma’s shoulder blades gently and stood there as steady and calm as a pillar of marble.

David stooped to look into Emma’s eyes with his own careful concern as he reached them. “Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous?” he asked promptly, his words clipped and tight, making the strain he was still under to remain calm and professional all too clear. Emma was fairly certain he already knew the answer anyway. If she tried to shake her head and deny his suspicions, her world would only keep spinning more frantically.

Just barely meeting his anxious stare with her eyes slitted narrowly open, she managed a half-convincing, “Calm down, Nolan. We all know I’ve had worse.”

The sheriff’s lips pressed together into a thin line, his whole expression pulled taut enough that Emma couldn’t even gauge whether anger, guilt, or fear was playing the largest role.  His arms crossed firmly over his broad chest as he stood back to his full height, sensing that hovering would not make her any more agreeable, but he didn’t cease watching her, not allowing her to shut him out. “That isn’t funny,” he ground out, low enough that in the bustle around the shop only she, Ruby, and himself heard the admonishment, yet she felt chastened all the same. “You are clearly not safe, even out in the open, in broad daylight, and what if the security company hadn’t called us soon enough, if Ruby hadn’t walked in when she did? Emma, you could have been - “

Her eyes shot up to meet his savagely, knowing the rest of his sentence and not wanting it spoken aloud. Despite the ringing in her ears and rolling of her stomach, her fierce look froze the words on David’s tongue. She’d traveled so far, worked so hard to be more than the helpless, pitied victim of that man’s abuse - and she wasn’t letting him make her one again.

Before any of them could speak further, or the tension between them could fully dissipate, the door flung back on its hinges wildly as someone else rushed into her gallery. “Emma!” Killian’s unmistakable voice called out, cracking with worry on the second syllable, even as David moved aside slightly so his friend could see her for himself.

A strangled sound escaped his throat, and in moments Jones was across the room and on his knees before her, reaching out as if to pull her close, then jolting back as he took in the trickle of blood and the bruising that had already begun to color the side of her face. Looking wracked with indecision, he simply held his place before her, as near as he dared, and breathed out a choked, “What happened, Swan? Are - are you alright?”

“She will be,” Ruby offered with much needed certainty from beside Emma, laying her hand on her brother’s shoulder, as if to steady him and remind them both that she was there.  It was new from her - for both of them - but her typical self assurance was bolstering in the fraught moment and incredibly welcome.

Killian finally released a full breath, his forehead falling to rest upon her knee, and his fingers reflexively clutching her denim-clad leg for a moment as he trembled with relief. After a moment to gather himself, he looked up into Emma’s face from where he crouched before her, eyes swimming with unasked questions and the fear - still all too close to the surface - that he had nearly lost her.

Emma didn’t have the strength to hold back, not in that tremulous moment when she was hurt and wanted to scream at the unfairness of everything falling apart around her. She grasped his t-shirt at the shoulder, comforted by his warm solidity beneath, and ran a hand over his brow, amazed that he was there and was so intensely concerned - and that she allows herself the luxury of that - before trailing her fingers through his unruly dark hair. “It was Franken,” she murmured lowly, just wanting it all out, like poison drawn from a wound. “He was here, mostly after money, I think…” she paused. “But as you can see,” she gestured to her face, “that clearly wasn’t enough to keep him from leaving a souvenir for old times’ sake.”

She could see the angry tic in Killian’s jaw, working to restrain the fury he felt, and though his was quieter, it seemed to run even deeper and even harder to contain than David’s had before it.

At that, David broke into the moment. “Killian, why don’t you take Emma to Storybrooke General to be checked out? I can swing by there later, when all this is under control, if I have any questions that can’t wait until tomorrow.” He waved to the crime scene which her gallery had become as he spoke.

Killian’s “Aye” and terse nod were all that voiced his agreement to the sheriff’s suggestion, but he stood and offered Emma a hand; balance and support to pull herself up if she chose to take it. Ruby squeezed her hand, promising she would check on her later as well.

She wanted to argue, to say the fuss wasn’t necessary, but as she stood and then wavered unsteadily, she knew there was no point. She merely took Killian’s arm and leaned on him wordlessly without a fight. None of the three people surrounding her would let her close call be brushed aside - not this time. For now, she accepted the concern and decided she’d give herself a minute in which she didn’t have to be so strong.

    *~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

A few hours later Killian was leading Emma from the waiting room of the small local hospital, walking and as close behind her as humanly possible without getting their feet tangled and making her fall. She wanted to tell him that she’d be fine, to take her back to her car and then go on home, but the determined and independent core she had built up, the one which usually allowed her to offer those placating refrains so easily seemed irretrievably weakened. She couldn’t push him away. Where she would usually deny or ignore whatever had shaken her, Emma couldn’t this time. After all she had accomplished and how far she had traveled, after how long she had denied herself and stayed as far away as she could, it hadn’t been enough - not long enough, not far enough - her past and its monster had still found her and attacked.

So she didn’t want to need Killian Jones’ warm and steady palm at the small of her back, the comforting heat and gentle, guiding pressure easily felt through the thin material of her cotton blouse, but need it she did. “Come Lass, the truck’s over here,” he murmured, soothing and low near her ear, leaning in to speak for her ears alone as he steered her toward the corner of the lot where he had parked. 

There really hadn’t been much anyone could do for the busted lip and rapidly blackening eye she was sporting, other than cautioning her to ice it often and to take aspirin as needed for the pain, but they had made sure nothing was broken in her nose, cheekbones, or jaw. She had also been cautioned, since she’d suffered some nausea at first, that if she became dizzy again or threw up, she should return for further examination. She hadn’t presented with a concussion, but one might sometimes show up later, and they wouldn’t want to miss it if so.

The doctor who had looked her over and the nurse were both concerned about sending Emma home alone; they wanted her observed and awakened every couple of hours. At Killian’s assurance that he would stay with her and do just as they suggested, however, they had relented and she had finally been released.

It wasn’t until he was helping her up into the high seat of his truck’s cab and moving to shut the door that she finally forced herself to protest - it was too much, he didn’t need to put himself out.

Killian was having none of it. He wouldn’t even let her finish, interrupting her protests in a heavy handed way she hadn’t yet seen from him. The solemnity of his vow was irrefutable when he swore that “This time, Love, you won’t be alone until that bastard is caught. Not until this is over.” His eyes burned into her like twin blue flames. “You are too precious for me to do otherwise.”

As much as the fervent emotion from him stole her breath, frustration mounted within her right alongside it. She’d spent so much of her early life beholden to one person or another, moved and driven by the whims of Fate or the system. She didn’t want to be a responsibility or a chore to anyone - not even someone honorable, who took his role as seriously as Killian. Especially not to Killian. She shook her head angrily, biting back tears. “This is stupid! I’ll just go…”

Jones didn’t even hesitate. “Then I’m going too… to the end of the Earth, if that’s where you’re headed.”

She was swiping at the errant tears that wouldn’t be held back any longer, wincing when she got too close to the tender area near her eye socket and sniffing back worse sobs as she beseeched him in last resort. “Why? Killian, why would you do that? So you can get yourself killed trying to protect me?!?”

But he merely shook his head, leaning into her space, pressing his forehead to hers and his warm breath caressing her cheek. “I’m not going to let that happen, Swan. We’ve both lost enough. I’m with you now - no matter what - and we’re going to stand and fight.”

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @cssns @kmomof4 @jrob64 @jennjenn615 @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @apiratewhopines @xarandomdreamx @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @bluewildcatfanatic @xsajx @teamhook @revanmeetra @iamstartraveller776 @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @blackwidownat2814 @blowmiakisscolin @let-it-raines @motherkatereloyshipper @jonesfandomfanatic @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke @drowned-dreamer @stahlop @wefoundloveunderthelight @eastwesthomeisbest @sotangledupinit @justanother-unluckysoul @ultraluckycatnd @bdevereaux @caught-in-the-filter @belovedcreation @lenfaz

[kmomof4]

Yeah, yeah…

That would not be a oneshot… but we WANTS IT PRECIOUS!!!!

What is this - CS movie AU: Emma fucked up?

I actually love this one but I'm not sure if it'll get written but the whole idea is based on Killian "the course of my entire life would have changed because you kissed me one time" Jones telling Emma he'd have gone after her in the CS movie. (Which let's admit is canon considering that's exactly what happened after the Neverland kiss)

But Emma would come back from the past through the portal to find that Killian wasn't there and nobody had any memory of him (and a few things were different because he'd never been there). So she goes back in time again to try and stop herself seeing him in the bar but because portal magic is screwy and she's trying to find him by thinking of him, she ends up portaling to him at different times in his life (mostly his angsty moments) and accidentally just ingraining herself even more in his past 🤷‍♀️

It's one of those fics I promise myself would be a oneshot but I don't trust myself enough to start it because if you knew how many of my fics were supposed to be oneshots....

Thanks for the ask!! 😊

[princess-and-the-swan]

CS Fic Recs: Bridgerton-Inspired AU

While I anxiously await the arrival of the second half of Bridgerton S3, I'm absolutely DEVOURING these 3 Bridgerton-inspired CS fics I've found:

A Scoundrel... Or a Gentleman? by @kmomof4

Killian Jones has been in love with Emma Nolan since the day he met her - the day before she married his brother Earl Liam Jones. That was six years ago, and Liam has been gone now for four years. Emma and Killian have both arrived in London for the season - her to seek a husband so she can hopefully bear children, him to finally take up his duties as the earl, including finding a wife. Will they succeed in their respective desires? Complete. Inspired by Francesca Bridgerton's story, this is the fic that sent me into my Bridgerton-fic frenzy. While there is a little bit of Liamma in the beginning, this is very much a Captain Swan fic and it's so much fun to follow along with the evolving relationship dynamic between the two.

A Mistress to No One by @kmomof4

Bastard Emma Swan enjoys one night of pure magic and romance in the midst of a life of drudgery and abuse- attending a masquerade ball and meeting aristocrat Killian Jones. Two years later, the same man she met on the best night of her life reappears, saving her from a dire fate in the process. Now, she must keep herself from falling in love with a man she can never have. But when that proves impossible, is there any hope for a happy ending between two people from such vastly different worlds? Complete. I will admit, that I have never read Benedict Bridgerton's story, so I had no idea what to expect. This story reminds me of Cinderella but if Cinderella and her prince had an actual connection beyond a single dance.

The Duke and His Swan by @hollyethecurious

Dearest Reader, the ton is abuzz with speculation that the new Duke of Ironhook will be remaining in town for the duration of the Season. Second born of the illustrious Jones family, Killian Jones has quite the legacy to live up to now he has inherited the dukedom from his late elder brother. Also entering Society for her first season is Miss Emma Swan, ward to the Viscount Nolan’s family. Gifted with a respectable dowry, Miss Swan’s financial worth and uncommon good looks will surely make up for her rumored prickly disposition in the eye of more than one fortune seeking suitor. Stay tuned, Dear Reader, for this author has it on good authority His Grace and Miss Swan shall cause quite a sensation, perhaps even resulting in… scandal! Complete. If you haven't already read this fic, I HIGHLY recommend it. Loosely inspired by Daphne Bridgerton's story, this is very much a friends to lovers trope that so many of us adore. After I read this fic, I binged several of this author's other works as well because her writing is absolutely addictive :)))

These fics are the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires and I really hope more Bridgerton-inspired fics will begin to pop up--especially a Colin Bridgerton-esque fic to commemorate the Polin season! If you've found any others that you enjoyed, please please please let me know! Happy reading!!

[capricioussun]

Hello

I just got slammed by an idea inspired by a much older idea I'd actually had for a music video for an ok go song years and years ago

An undertale au where each different part of the underground is, essentially, a different genre of movie? Maybe the ruins could be indiana jones-esque action adventure, and then perhaps Snowdin could be "seasonal romcom". Waterfall...probably suspense? Maybe suspense drama... And then Hotland could possibly be like a spy thriller? With the true labs being psyche horror. Not sure what New Home would be, since really that's mostly just the Judgement Hall and Meeting Asgore... Maybe classic detective noir?

But there could also be fun little like...pockets, maybe? Like going into Grillby's, it's suddenly an old western, or MTT hotel could be a musical, yk?

I'm thinking mostly just aesthetic changes, though the characters might be a little different, just sort of leaned into whichever genre their area is. I need to sketch some of this so bad

[yundeob]

A NIGHT IN HOLLYWOOD ☆ | ATEEZ SERIES

— featuring ot8!ateez in iconic HOLLYWOOD romance and rom-com movies

— TICKET BOOTH IS CLOSED! 🎟️ : the movies are about to start! all fics will have MATURE CONTENT! MDNI!

sit back, relax, grab your popcorn and tissues, and enjoy the silver screen . . .

THE PARENT TRAP ☆ | KHJ

TROPE: exes to lovers! divorced!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

AS DIVORCED PARENTS to two twin daughters, you and hongjoong have your fair share of work cut out. Driving to piano lessons, cheering at hockey games, drop offs at each other’s houses, it can all be a little much. But could a relaxing summer retreat as a whole family possibly rekindle past emotions you’ve swept under the rug? . . .

— IN THEATRES

DIRTY DANCING ☆ | PSH

TROPE: bad boy!seonghwa, enemies to lovers!au , 60s!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, angst, crack

THAT WAS THE SUMMER before JFK got shot, before the beatles came, and when you were working part time at your aunts summer resort. That was also the summer you met resident heart breaker and cocky entertainment crew member, Park Seonghwa. Remind yourself why you’re suddenly dance partners with him again? . . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

PRETTY WOMAN ☆ | JYH

TROPE: dilf!yunho x formerstripper!reader, strangers to lovers!au, contract lovers!au,

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

LIVING IN BEVERLY HILLS comes with its perks. But for two different people such as yourself and multimillionaire business tycoon, Jeong Yunho, both of you can’t seem to find what you’re looking for in the so called ‘Land of Dreams’. So the proposal is simple really… let him spoil you with money, jewelry and clothes while in return, you stay by his side. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

MR AND MRS KANG ☆ | KYS

TROPE: marriage!au, established relationship, spy!au, assasin!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST, crack

WHO WOULD’VE THOUGHT picture perfect suburban neighbourhood couple, Mr. and Mrs. Kang would be at each others necks trying to kill each other first. You’ve both come this far in your marriage while hiding your secret identities, but it looks like only one person can remain standing. I guess you both did promise “in sickness and in health”. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMAN HOLIDAY ☆ | CS

TROPE: royalty!au, princess!reader x reporter!san, strangers to lovers!

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

AS CROWN PRINCESS, you’re on a tightly scheduled tour of European capital cities. But after an especially rough day in Rome, you sneak out of the embassy to explore the so called Eternal City, running into no other than celebrity news reporter, Choi San, looking out for his next big royal scandal. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU ☆ | SMG

TROPE: college!au, stoner!mingi, enemies to lovers!au, fakedating(?)au, y2k aesthetic

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

YOUR YOUNGER BROTHER Wooyoung is desperate in getting you, his older sister in college, to date so that he can finally date in highschool. The options for potential candidates are scarce, considering men flock away like birds the second you’re near. Good thing campus stoner and weirdo, Song Mingi is the same as well. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS ☆ | JWY

TROPE: fashioncolumnist!reader x advertiser!wooyoung, y2k aesthetic, fake dating(?)au, enemies to lovers!au, mutual pining

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

LISTEN, IF IT MEANS getting a promotion at your editorial company as a news journalist instead of pop culture and lifestyle columnist, you’d do anything. And that includes pretending to be the most annoying and clingiest girlfriend to some guy for 10 whole days. But just so you know, Wooyoung likes clingy. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMEO & JULIET ☆ | CJH

TROPE: unrequited love, star crossed lovers!au, mutual pining, secret romance (shakespeare be rolling in his grave rn)

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST

FOR CENTURIES, a plague of hatred and hostility has been present in the relations between the House of Choi and your own. You know you can’t be together, but yet why do you keep catching that dark haired boy staring at you so longingly? And why do you want him just as bad?. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

a/n: for updates, follow my blog! this will be a work-in-progress so I ask for your support:(🙏

taglist: @vent-stink @dazzlingstarrs @vcutparis @xpixie @potatos-on-clouds @showingmafandomlove @bibbleypoof @kpop-will-kill-me @avantalem @beabatiny @gabrielle-brugger @nsixns @amaranth1ne @stayminho @myblovedjyh @kkeshia @rebekah-reads @yoonbroom @4kwp @butterflydemons @iwaizumiismybae @soobinsputnik @stayatinykatsy @atitties @justconniez @kitten4sannie @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @cheolsthicthighs @morethingsfandom @geminiml95 @byuntrash101 @quailbagutte @syubseokie @newworldwritings @urmom26john @sleepy-kat-here @pearltinyy @hjshyhyssnmgwyjh @cursedeastern @starryunho @piratekingateez2001 @jiminbility @paumll @drinkingrumandcocacola @roomsofangel @channies-bbg-room @meanaonthemoon @teeztopia @pommelex @kiln9z @sanhwalvr @youresolivlie @edawg77 @a-0206 @summer-gyu @bvidzsoo @yoongzsmile28 @tournesol155

taglist became too long so find the second taglist here💀 no longer taking requests

[deckerstarblanche]

Hello Shipmates! I tried watching this movie, but I didn’t make it all the way through— too scary! I must’ve missed this second shot, because HOLY HELL, sexy confessional!

I’d like a Father Killian fic, please?

Foram liberados novos stills de Colin O’Donoghue como Michael Kovak no filme “The Rite” (2011). (x)

[horanghaejamjam]

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.

↪ Click here to see my other Ateez stories

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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.

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

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. 

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

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. 

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

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!” 

Ateez taglist: N/A

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

[2qties]

❝𝙄𝙏'𝙎 𝙈𝙔 𝙂𝙄𝙍𝙇'𝙎 𝘿𝘼𝙔❞

MODERN AU! UPPERMOONS X READER

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆

🪐: making this at 11:35 pm, can't let the gang know i was busy sobbing cs i ain't got no one. girlfriend day special for the big 3 moons modern au🙏🏾 love yall fr

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kokushibo 🌜

- sophisticated lover boy , he knows when to love and when to be professional regarding you .

- that doesn't mean he won't participate in this day .

for girlfriend's day, kokushibo planned a special and intimate activity for the two of you: a pottery class. the studio was warm and cozy, filled with the earthy scent of clay and the soft hum of spinning wheels. together, you spent the afternoon shaping and molding the clay, laughing and chatting as you worked on your individual pieces.

as the final hour approached, kokushibo gently guided you onto his lap. with his strong arms wrapped around you, the two of you began working on a single pot together. his hands over yours, you both guided the clay into shape, creating something unique and beautiful.

with a tender smile, kokushibo leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your neck before humming a gentle tune against your skin. "it's not much," he murmured, his voice a comforting rumble in your ear, "but i wanted to do something meaningful with you. we could paint these together later and put your favorite flowers in them."

his words, filled with warmth and sincerity, made your heart flutter. he held you close, the moment filled with love and connection. "you're very dear to me, darling," he continued, his lips brushing against your ear, "i love you."

in that quiet, shared space, surrounded by the fruits of your labor and the promise of more cherished moments to come, you felt the depth of kokushibo's affection. the day, filled with laughter, creativity, and tender gestures, became a beautiful memory that you would both treasure for years to come.

doma 🌈

- the most cheerful uppermoon of all cannot be caught not pampering his sweetheart on a day just for her !

- an adventurous day awaits between the both of you!

for girlfriend's day, doma planned a delightful movie marathon for the two of you. his cheerful nature set the perfect tone for a cozy day indoors. the living room was transformed into a snug haven, with blankets, pillows, and your favorite snacks spread out invitingly.

as the first movie started, doma cuddled up beside you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders. his laughter was infectious, and he made funny comments throughout the films, keeping you entertained and smiling. his joy was palpable, making the experience even more enjoyable.

as the movie marathon continued, doma's playful and affectionate demeanor made every moment feel special. he would occasionally lean in to plant a kiss on your forehead or whisper sweet nothings in your ear, his warmth and love evident in every gesture.

during a brief intermission, doma surprised you with a homemade treat he had prepared earlier. "you like it, don't you," he said with a grin, "who wouldn't? agh, i'm treating you so well." his eyes sparkled with excitement as he handed you a plate of your favorite snacks, carefully arranged.

"i hope you liked today, sweetheart," he said softly during one of the quieter moments, his eyes filled with affection. "i love you sooooo much!" his words, combined with his cheerful spirit, made your heart swell with happiness.

the day flew by in a blur of laughter, snuggles, and shared enjoyment of your favorite movies. with doma by your side, every film seemed more vibrant, every moment more precious. the movie marathon was a perfect celebration of your love, filled with joy and the deep connection you shared.

"we're gonna be doing this more."

akaza 🏀

- the strong yet seemingly shy on dates uppermoon has arrived!

- whatever could he have planned?

for girlfriend's day, akaza planned a sweet picnic date for the two of you. he chose a serene spot in the park, under the shade of a large tree, and set up a cozy blanket with an assortment of your favorite foods. despite his shy nature and wariness about things going wrong, he put on a brave face for you, wanting the day to be perfect.

as you both sat down to enjoy the meal, akaza seemed more at ease, his gentle smile reassuring you. you chatted and laughed, savoring the delicious food and the beautiful weather. his efforts to make the day special warmed your heart.

however, as fate would have it, something did go wrong. a sudden gust of wind knocked over the drinks, spilling them onto the food. akaza's face fell, and his composure cracked. he started cussing himself, visibly upset and frustrated.

you quickly wrapped your arms around him in a comforting hug. "it's okay," you whispered, holding him tightly. at first, he resisted, still angry with himself, but gradually, he melted into your embrace. he laid his head on your shoulder, his breathing slowly calming as he took comfort in your presence.

in the quiet moment that followed, akaza muttered softly, "you always know how to make things better. i love you."

his vulnerability touched you deeply, and you gently stroked his hair, reassuring him with your silent support. the picnic might not have gone perfectly, but in that moment, the love and connection between you felt stronger than ever. the hiccup in your plans became just another cherished memory, a testament to your bond and the way you always found comfort in each other.

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆

🪐: finished at 11:59 pm i ate 🙏🏾 once again, happy girlfriend's day. don't hesitate to hmu for a request. love yall

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[r3starttt]

I'm gonna make some changes on my kinktober list so if anyone has creepy requests and stuff feel free to ask 👹 like fr gimme stalker hot sex asks or vampire, mythical creature stuff, horror movie au's. Idk just help me w the ideas cs I believe some of the suggestions I had aren't as good as I'd like them to be lmfao. Also, it can be either tlou or arcane requests sooooo... yes

[snowbellewells]

@teamhook I’m so glad the muse is returning to you. I was loving this fic before. And I think it’s time for a re-read so I am all ready for the new update!!! Thank you for sharing!! 💕💖💕

Un-Kissable :|: Never Been Kissed CS AU

Hello all!! Okay, since life has been rough for a while it kinda scared the Muse away and she has been skittish to come back to me. However it seems she is taking some baby steps back to me.

What does that mean? Well, I have a new update ready but let’s just say I’m embarrassed with how long it has been between updates and maybe you guys don’t even remember the story anymore. Sorry. I did say no fic abandoned and I meant that. I just didn’t know so much crap was going to get in the way.

Okay… So I will be posting the original chapters first then add the new one.

I thank @ilovemesomekillianjones for being my beta for the first chapters and then the lovely @ultraluckycatnd took over. Both lovely human beings!

Art by @herhookedhero

 Chapter 1

Killian Jones was the youngest junior copy editor at The Glass Mirror. He should be satisfied with all the success he had accrued in his short life. Sure he had his own office and with it came an unlimited supply of office supplies, not to mention a personal assistant. But he wanted more, so much more.

His dream was to be a reporter, but it still eluded him. Sadly he was too shy and lacked the assertiveness required for the job. Not to mention his total lack of a personal life, how could he expect to report on the lives of others, when he didn’t even have his own?

“Killian, do you have the copy of the new library inauguration piece ready?” his boss, Sidney Glass asked.

“It will be ready by the deadline, have I ever failed you before?”

“No, of course not, please just have the piece ready to go to print on time. I know that the computers were down for a long time but the deadline still applies.”

Read the rest of CH1 here

Keep reading

[boarwinds]

What can you tell us about the Snowbaird kids in your First Lady AU?

Glad u asked.

So everything that happens in the movie happens except coryo doesn't say "3 is enough for me" until after they've reached the cabin where they've just unknowing conceived their twins. He says this while they're both lying in bed n that's where that whole "who's the third" conversation happens. Coryo hunts her n she escapes w a non lethal bullet wound that def leaves a scar.

CS goes back to the capitol n goes on to be president at age 23. LG gets pretty far n struggles to survive on fruits, nuts, etc,, she's definitely not a hunter. It makes sense her period doesn't come as she hasn't been eating, sleeping, basically living right but what makes her sneak back to 12 is her growing stomach. She connects the dots. The covey help set her up at the cabin or somewhere only the covey know bc the mayor is still looking for her. She gives birth to twins, first a girl then a boy which came as a surprise. Theyre both tiny w the boy even more so but they make it.

I'm gonna headcanon one of the covey knowing how to hunt n they teach the kids when they're little, LG also learns. Think of the 2 kids from wolf children, that's how her kids are. Theyre so curious abt district 12 n wanna see where their aunts n uncles leave off to but they also follow their mom's orders like it's gospel so they never venture too far except for one time they try to hunt a small boar to bring back to LG. Obv shit goes awry, girl twin gets a head injury from protecting her brother which leaves a scar n boy twin is crying in hysterics. They rush to 12 to get help n this is what leads to LG's capture.

So as for their personalities:

Girl twin: imagine coriolanus if he was raised district w just his loving mother. Will commit all types of wrong for the right thing. Let's just say if it weren't for LG being her moral compass she has potential to be worse than CS. Like her brother she inherited her mother's natural charisma n charm but she can be like her father n use it for manipulative purposes. She's fiercely protective of LG n her little siblings, v much a katniss type. Shes quiet n observant, more introverted. Unlike her parents she doesn't have much interest in pretty things, for her practicality over everything. Both LG n CS want to spoil her w pretty gowns, accessories, makeup, whatever she wants but she dresses plainly (if thats possible w aunty tigris designing all her clothes) most of the time. It doesn't hide her beauty, she's gorgeous the same way her father is.

Her relationship w her father is strained. She knows he did smth to hurt her mother, she's never seen LG be so cold to anyone no matter how civil she tries to be, she's immediately weary. CS sees her scar n offers to have it removed but LG always talked abt how scars told stories n hers would tell of her bravery n love for her brother so she's offended by his offer. She hates how she can't deny her parentage LMAO she may as well have been asexually reproduced by him.

Boy twin: LG if she reincarnated in a physical copy of CS. Is ambitious about becoming a beloved singer songwriter the way CS was ambitious abt becoming president. He's a bit more sheltered bc his sister n LG babied him but he's absolutely not a doormat, hes the type to gracefully disrespect u n u wont realize until ur overthinking in the shower. However if u disrespect his family, hes not afraid to serve up a little rat poison flavored drink. He'll have ppl eating out the palm of his hands n it won't even be on purpose. He's the extroverted twin who can win anyone over. LOVES luxury. Prob the one most transformed by living in the capitol but, his sweet boy personality may or may not be a persona. He sees w rose tinted glasses more than his sister so he ADORES his father at first meeting. The concept of a father is new to him n he's only his father's son, he loves having new fancy things.

3rd baby: 3rd girl is not exactly planned but not unplanned either. She's born in the capitol. Twin girl's current favorite sibling bc it's a baby n a girl. Also twin boy's current favorite sibling bc shiny new baby. LG's biggest baby so far. CS gets to name her bc LG got to name the first 2 (like she had a choice after being hunted down by him 🤡) who have covey names. He'll give her a v capitol name, had she been a boy she would've been Crassus. Haven't thought further abt her personality, for now she's just a baby.

X number of siblings in between: N/A for now

Final baby: takes after LG the most. Brown eyes, brown hair. Everybody's favorite, everybody's baby. They'd all individually burn down the capitol themselves for the final baby.

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "While You Were Sleeping"

It seemed like the right time to dig out this older story of mine and revisit it. I even created some fic cover art for it at long last. I originally wrote this for @searchingwardrobes' Captain Swan is my Favorite Rom Com collection on AO3, and I had a lot of fun adapting one of my all-time favorite movies While Your Were Sleeping to include Killian, Emma, and many of our other favorite OuaT characters. I hope you will enjoy seeing it again, or seeing it for the first time, as this week's self promo re-run.

~*~ Complete in 8 Chapters ~*~

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

by: @snowbellewells

Part One: Prologue

“Next.”

The clink of the subway token in the steel drop slot made its familiar sound as Emma Swan almost robotically gestured the traveler through to make room for the next and fished the coin out to add to the growing pile on the counter at her elbow. At this point, the main part of her job at the Riverside subway terminal on Boston’s Green Line was so routine she barely paid attention or even looked at the equally harried and distracted commuters, but simply gathered their fares, waved them on, and kept the line moving. It certainly wasn’t exciting or life-changing, but it paid the bills, kept her and her cat fed, and if she daydreamed meanwhile about someday traveling beyond the bounds of the city’s subway network, and having someone to travel with – well, no one had to know that but her.

The jangle of another coin in the till jarred her from her morosely-veering thoughts and reminded Emma of her duty, “Ne-” she began to say, even looking up at this person as if to prove she wasn’t lazing on the job, but the words froze on her tongue at the sight before her.

It was him – the mystery man who traveled through her station every week. Like clockwork, he appeared each Saturday at nine, then reappeared on his return journey in the early evening. Only on Saturdays, but without fail; once a week some pilgrimage brought him to her like a shimmering mirage, leaving Emma shaken and breathless, thinking throughout the rest of her work week that she must have conjured him from her own imagination. Though she wanted to shake her head at the preposterous reaction, roll her eyes at the dramatic way her heart raced whenever this guy came into view, and write herself off as pathetic for behaving with such girlish enthusiasm, it never failed to strike her again on Mr. Handsome’s next arrival.

It wasn’t just the perfectly tailored slate gray suit and handsome overcoat the man wore, the fancy watch on his wrist, or the confident, decisive way he moved and carried himself; it was more in the twinkle of playful mischief she saw in his breathtaking blue eyes behind the proper veneer of his business-like appearance (even on a Saturday), the subtle quirk of his mouth as he never failed to thank her, in a heart-stopping British accent no less, before moving on to his destination, and the way that, though he without doubt had the best products and stylists at his fingertips, there was still an unruly, disheveled mess of curls atop his thick, sandy head of hair. The man was clearly a mover and shaker, powerful, well-to-do, and yet he carried himself as if it were an easy mantle, with the grace not to give his power too much credence or act better than anyone else.

As if to prove her point, the guy smiled at her kindly, even as she did little more than nod dumbly and reach out to take his subway token. His voice was warm, almost melodious with the lilt of that accent as he added, “Thank you, Lass. Have a lovely day.” Then, with a dip of his head and a wink, he was gone, moving off on his way again, leaving Emma looking after him and trying to shake herself back into coherence.

She watched his tall, broad-shouldered frame, now with his back to her, stop on the platform to check the time, and she sighed, dejectedly berating herself for being too dumbstruck to even answer the seeming man of her dreams. “You have a nice day too.” “That’s a great tie you’re wearing,” she snarked to herself quietly, reminding her stunted brain of the sensible replies she could have given Mr. Dreamy instead of merely gawping at him like a fish out of water. “‘You’re beautiful”, “Take me with you…” Letting out a growl of frustration at her own lunacy, Emma buried her head in her hand a moment before knocking her brow against the glass a couple times for good measure. “Stupid, stupid,” was really all she could find to mutter to herself.

However, though she admitted that she might be many things, a wallower was not one of them. After her short personal pity party, Emma drew a deep breath, squared her shoulders and looked up, intending to get back to work – monotony and all. Unfortunately, that still wasn’t in the cards.

She looked up just in time to see her daydreams’ focus be joined on the platform by three other men, looking much less clean-cut and a lot shiftier in their bearings. Whatever the first one said to her suited regular, it clearly wasn’t friendly, as he stiffened rigidly, and Emma did too merely from watching at a distance. The first newcomer gave her commuter’s scarf a flip back over his shoulder, making the muffler fall from his shoulders to the ground, and she could almost read the words on those well-formed lips, imaginary or perhaps even distantly hearing his, “Watch it, you lot. Just back off. I’m not looking for any trouble.” He had turned partially to take in all three of the men who’d accosted him, clearly not wanting to put his back to any one of them, and she could see the storm cloud that had settled on his strong brow, that handsome face dark and warning where before she had only ever seen it show either mild happiness or amused curiosity.

One of the newcomers jeered loud enough for Emma to hear as she cracked open the door of her vestibule, ready to call out and intervene, asking loiters to move on before the next train’s arrival. “Well, you may not want any trouble, guv’nuh,” mocking his English speech obviously as he moved right into her guy’s space, “but what if we do?” And before Emma could call out or make any sort of sound at all, he shoved at her regular passenger, hard enough to send him stumbling back despite his height and the casual poise with which Emma normally saw him move. Though he might well have caught his balance just fine in usual circumstances, they were standing too near the edge of the platform. The next foot he put back to brace himself found only empty space.

One of the hoods bent quickly to swipe the dropped briefcase he had been carrying; while another gave her handsome stranger one last shove in the chest before the three attackers bolted, disappearing up the subway steps, even as Emma finally jolted from her wide-eyed shock, leapt from her stool, and ran toward the fray.

Unfortunately, even as she hurried, she knew it was too late. In nightmarish slow motion, her guy’s arms pin wheeled, still seeking balance. The desperate attempt failed, and Emma skidded to a stop where he had been, grasping for nothing but air as he fell and vanished over the side, plummeting to the tracks below.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @motherkatereloyshipper @stahlop @booksteaandtoomuchtv @kazoosandfannypacks @thislassishooked @winterbaby89 @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda @justanother-unluckysoul @mie779 @drowned-dreamer @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @wefoundloveunderthelight

[mrsparrasblog]

Highschool AU pt.2

Summary: You and your Brother moved away from Austria because of your parents Divorce, making you attend Northbridge Academy in Exeter, England. On your first day you meet the bullied Simon Riley and the overly extroverted John MacTavish. As if dealing with puberty, sports and your grades wasn't hard enough you fell in love not only with your Bestfriend Simon but also with Johnny, that Johnny was in love with both of you didn't make the Dynamic better

Pt.1

November 1990

As the days passed, you fell into a comfortable routine. You made a point to sit next to Simon in every class, despite Johnny's attempts to claim the seat besides you. You got used to Johnny though; he was funny and surprisingly smart. He even beat you in physics once, which made you incredibly mad. You always wanted to excel in academics; sometimes it felt like it was the only thing you were good at—getting good grades. If you couldn't be good at that, what special thing would be left in you?

"Lizzie, it's just an A, who cares if it's not an A+? You won't die from it," Simon nagged. He never understood your drive to excel in school. He wasn’t bad himself, though; he mostly got Bs, especially in math, history, and chemistry. He had some Cs in English and Housekeeping —claiming it was unimportant for him that he did poorly in sewing. He was right, though; that's why you didn’t pick that incredibly dumb subject and chose advanced German instead, which was like a free pass for you. Unfortunately, you were in the same class as John, the annoying new friend of your brother. He was always so flirty, although he was cute.

"How do you know? Maybe I'll fall dead on the ground in the next second."

"Would be a blessing for some of us," Simon replied. After a few weeks of school, you were surprised to find out that Simon wasn’t like he looked. He wasn’t shy and uncomfortable; he pulled lots of jokes—bad ones—next to you. Worse, his humor was dry and mean, making you chuckle all the time, which he secretly loved.

"You're an idiot, Si."

"And still, I'm your favorite, Lizzie."

"Only because Johnny isn’t a real challenge to you."

"Don’t let Johnny hear that; he will be mad."

"Maybe he needs a bit of an ego shrink," You laughed.

Simon and you walked towards your table. It was like in all those American movies you watched when you were allowed to watch TV. Tiffany and her squad had their own table, and then there were tables full of footballers where Kyle sat most of the time, except when Johnny begged him to sit with you. Michael, like the perfect big brother he was, was always where you were. And where Michael was, John and sometimes Nik would be, if he didn’t spend 90% of his time in detention.

Every Thursday was mail delivery day, the best part of the week. You always looked forward to a letter from Dad. He told you about all the different places he visited for work, and there was always a postcard in the letter. You had over 120 postcards, all placed on the wall of your dorm. At least that made you feel at home. Northbridge Academy wasn’t as bad as you feared at the beginning. The teachers were great, the school was fun, and you had Simon and Johnny. The only downside was my dorm mates. While the boys were more than lucky despite Si complaining about Michael's snoring, they still had a nice group. Meanwhile, you were stuck with Tiffany, Laurie, and Anne in a room, and it was even worse than you imagined.

Simon opened his mail, and his expression changed. He tried to regain his composure quickly, but he couldn't fool me. You knew something was up, so you poked him under the table, trying to get his mail. Surprisingly, he gave it to you without any further resistance, and for once, You wished he hadn’t.

Hello Simon, Im on a camping trip with your Mom and Thomas. Don´t bother coming over the long weekend. We wont be there. Stay at your trust fund school. Dad 

"Si—"

"No, Lizzie." He stood up and left the table, surprising everyone else who hadn’t noticed anything. Typical boys. You followed him into his dorm and sat next to him on the bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's not a big deal, Lizzie. They're just on vacation."

"Is it?"

"Lizzie."

"You know you could come with Mich and me. Mom wouldn’t mind at all; she loves hosting people and all that stuff. We can spend more time together, and you don’t need to stay in this musty room—like, really, do you boys even clean?" You laughed at the chaos of the room. Everywhere, there were paint stains, football shoes, and, on what you guessed was Nik’s and John’s bed, an E-guitar was placed.

"Lizzie, it’s okay. You know I can practice a bit before the start of ice hockey season."

"Pleaseeeeeeee." You looked at him with puppy eyes. I needed him to come with me.

"Okay, but only this once." He agreed, and you gave him a big bear hug.

SIMONS POV 

"Whit dae ye mean ye gang hame wi' Ellie?"

"Was invited," I said shortly.

"Was invited too," John chimed in, while he tuned his guitar, making noises not safe for humanity.

"How come is a' body invited 'cept me?" Johnny started to whine. The answer would be easy for anyone with eyes: she doesn’t like his flirting, she is scared of things like this, and asking her to marry him after she gave him a cookie wasn’t the smartest choice.

"I wasn’t invited," Kyle replied shortly.

"You're not invited, Johnny, 'cause ye need to tone it down with my sister. She is only 13; she doesn’t care about boys right now. And asking her at any chance if she wants to marry you makes her scared. Ye don’t know anything about girls, do ye?" That was the most words I've heard from König since, well, ever, but he was right. Johnny needed to tone it down. I didn’t like how Lizzie felt insecure whenever he did it and clung to me. The truth is Lizzie wasn’t afraid of him or anything; she even liked Johnny as a friend. She just thought his advances were jokes. Johnny liked to joke a lot, giving him the reputation of a class clown. And so, his big gestures for her felt like a joke to her, especially since she was so insecure at heart. I just never understood why? She was smart, funny, much cooler than any other girl, and she was pretty, not that I would ever tell that to someone.

"Just trying to be good, König," Johnny muttered.

"If ye weren’t a lovesick little puppy, he’d probably punch you into oblivion," John mentioned.

"You can come too, Johnny," König replied, still giving him the big brother glance.

"Sweet."

"Wait, how do we all fit in a car?" I asked, afraid that Johnny would take my place, and I needed to stay here. But everyone just looked at me weirdly, and I didn’t know why.

The next day, on our way to Lizzie's house, I finally knew why. There was a fucking limousine with black windows, probably bulletproof, like in James Bond movies. A small man in his 50s walked outside of the car wearing a black suit and smiling as he walked towards Lizzie, taking her baggage from her hands.

"He doesn’t look like Lizzie’s Dad," I said. It was true; they didn’t look similar, but still, she hugged him like you’d hug a family member, I guess?

John started to laugh. "You really don’t know a lot about Beth." Beth? Why did he call my Lizzie Beth? That was a shitty name.

"I know a lot about her."

"Not about her world, little one." I hated it when people reduced me for my small frame. I didn’t want to be the skinny short boy walking behind Lizzie all the time in need of her support. At least she didn’t see me that way.

"Si, John, Johnny, that’s Alfred, he is our family, Butler," Lizzie said, smiling at Alfred like he was a family member more than a Butler.

We sat down in the limo. Lizzie, of course, sat next to me, much to the dislike of Johnny. He kinda grew on me, though; he was funny and extroverted, and he wasn’t as posh as Kyle, who was a nice bloke but just didn’t get it. He was always complaining, as if he had problems, of course, he hadn’t. He was rich, good at football, and good-looking.

Lizzie fell asleep after a while, her head resting on my shoulder. I didn’t dare to move for the rest of the ride. She looked so peaceful when she didn’t move her lips and spoke.

"Mate, that's unfair. Why does Lizzie sleep on you instead of me?" Johnny whined, but I ignored him. "I liked her first, brocade and everything, Simon."

"You don’t call dips on my sister, or I'll cut your tongue out," König spoke calmly. He was confusing me; he was mostly silent but always threatened everyone who came too close to Lizzie. He never threatened me though, of course not; no one saw a threat in me.

We arrived at a big white mansion, almost looking like the Buckingham Palace. I knew Lizzie was rich, but this rich? I should probably search Kortac up, what they did, and how her dad must be so rich.

John only shrugged as if it was nothing, making me feel like I was the dumb one. This wasn’t normal; why are they acting like this?

As I stepped into Lizzie's villa, my jaw practically hit the floor. I mean, I've seen big houses before, but this was something else. The entrance was like walking into a palace or something. The marble floors were so shiny

; I could see my reflection in them. And those pillars! They were taller than any trees I've ever seen, reaching up to a ceiling painted with fancy designs that made me feel like I was in a museum.

I couldn't help but gawk as I made my way through the place. The living room was like a dream. Soft, velvet couches and chairs were everywhere, so plush you could practically sink into them. Paintings and tapestries covered the walls, like something out of a history book. And don't even get me started on the fireplace! It was huge, with flames dancing and crackling like something out of a movie. All around were paintings that probably cost more than Mom's salary as a nurse.

The dining room was even more posh. A long, mahogany table stretched out in front of me, set with fancy plates and silverware that looked like they belonged in a museum. A chandelier hung overhead, sparkling with crystals and casting a warm light over everything.

In the kitchen, everything was shiny and new. Stainless steel appliances lined the walls, and there were bowls of fruit and baskets of bread everywhere. It smelled amazing, like something out of a cooking show. Chefs walked around the house; they had fucking chefs? I thought the Butler was much, but they had more staff. Didn’t rich people know how to cook for themselves?

As I wandered around, I couldn't help but feel a little jealous. I mean, we have a house; it's nice and all, but it's nothing like this. Lizzie's family must be really rich to live in a place like this. But as much as I envied her, I couldn't help but feel grateful that she was my friend, never judging me because of my scholarship like Tiffany did, and by the looks of it, Tiffany wasn’t even half as wealthy as Lizzie and König are.

"Mutter, Vater, Ich dachte Papa ist in Salzburg gerade," König said. He sounded more confident when he spoke German.

Lizzie's parents looked like nice people; her Dad was the tallest man I've ever seen and looked a bit intimidating, while her mom looked a lot like Lizzie herself, just older.

"Dein Vater hat gehört, ihr kommt hier her und ist direkt gekommen," her dad replied.

"Also, seid ihr nicht wieder zusammen?" Lizzie’s voice sounded so different in German, but she still sounded nice and soft.

"Nein, und sprech Englisch, das ist unhöflich gegenüber deinen Gästen," her mom scolded, her voice too loud for the small room.

"So, who do we have here?" Lizzie’s father asked curiously.

"I'm John Price, sir."

"Oh, like William Price?"

"Yes, that's my old man."

"We worked together quite a bit for his campaign."

"Wait, my dad worked with Kortac?" John lost the color of his face, and I really needed to know what the fuck Kortac is.

"I'm Johnny MacTavish."

"Well, didn’t hear of your family," Lizzie’s dad mustered Johnny.

"Richard, be nice," Lizzie’s mom scolded, in a tone too loud for the room. "Okay, and you are?" She gestured to me.

"Simon Riley, nice to meet you both, sir," I replied politely, shaking his hand, only to get my hand crushed.

As I followed Lizzie's family into the dining room, I couldn't believe my eyes. The table was like something out of a fancy restaurant, but way bigger. There were so many dishes spread out that I had never seen or tried before. I mean, I knew what a salad was and some of the other stuff, but there were these little black things in jars that Lizzie's dad called "caviar." I had no idea what that was, but everyone seemed to be enjoying it, so I tried a tiny bit. It was salty and kinda strange, definitely not like anything I'd ever eaten. Johnny looked as confused as me; of course, the academy had fancy food, but this was weird. And so much different from what mom cooked for us, and I longed for her lasagna right now.

Then there were all these different forks and spoons and knives laid out next to the plates. I was used to just one fork and one spoon at home, but here, it was like a whole set of tools just for eating. I glanced over at Lizzie, who noticed my confusion and tried to discreetly explain which fork to use for which course. But I could tell I was still getting it wrong.

Lizzie's family seemed used to all this fancy stuff, chatting away as they effortlessly used their array of utensils. Meanwhile, I was struggling not to knock over a glass or use the wrong fork. Her mom smiled kindly at me and offered some advice on what to try next, but I couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. John and König, of course, knew how to act. I noticed how Lizzie’s dad liked John, but Lizzie’s mom definitely liked me.

It was strange; they were so familiar with each other, chatting at dinner and laughing, listening to Lizzie ramble about the school teaching shitty German. It was so different than at home; no one screamed, no one cried, and, most importantly, no one punched each other.

Johnny and I slept in one of the various guest chambers, and it was so comfortable, the best sleep I've ever had until I heard Lizzie scream from next door. I ran towards her room; I didn’t know what was wrong, but I needed to find out.

She lay in her luxurious room, whining and shaking in her sleep. I always thought rich families like these never had any problems, but here she was having night terrors.

I sat next to her in bed, brushing my hand towards her silky hair. "I'm here, Lizzie, everything is good."

"Please don’t kill me; I don’t know anything," she cried, and then König walked in, pushing me to the side while grabbing her in his bulky arms, whispering to her something in German until she calmed down and slept peacefully again. Now, all of us stood in her room. I just wanted to comfort Lizzie, telling her everything would be fine again.

"What was this?" John asked.

"Nightmares."

"That’s more than nightmares, mate," Johnny said, earning a death glare from König. I didn’t know what I thought, but I stood up and walked towards her bed again, cuddling her like Mom and Dad always did. For the first time, I could protect someone, and I’d protect her like she protected me.

"LEAVE."

"No, she is my best friend; I won’t leave." Slowly, after minutes, John and Johnny climbed into Lizzie’s bed. All of us wanted to comfort the girl who gave us everything every day. And so all five of us played together in the bed, eager to protect her from whatever haunted her. It was nice; having her in my arms was the last thought before I slowly drifted into a peaceful sleep.

[princess-and-the-swan]

MC Fic Rec: Blackberry Summers

By @undercaffinatednightmare | Rating: E

Emma Swan has been annoyed by the boy next door since she was 8. Now that she is anticipating life on the shelf, will she still find him annoying? Or is this season when she finds love? WIP as of 06/18/2024. ANOTHER BRIDGERTON FIC YESSSSS! KEEP 'EM COMING Y'ALL I LOVE TO SEE THEM!!! This one is a fun story based on Violet and Edmund Bridgerton's story. I never expected for this particular story to get Captain Swan'd (lol!) but I am definitely not complaining!!!

Read it on AO3

[thatbennybee]

Hi, I'm a huge fan of your art and fanfics!! And can't wait for more!! But I have a question about the Chord Stricker AU! So what's it about, is it different or is it the same in the TWT movie? Like is Poppy planning on turning all trolls into rock zombies just like Barb did in the movie or something else entirely??

It will be different from TWT in a few ways! Poppy's goal and motivations are quite different, her approach is different, and so is her dynamic with other troll tribes. Poppy is still Poppy in some regards, so she still has a personality type that is loved and respected.

Something different about CS!Poppy is that she never does anything out of the kindness of her heart. She is very much a "What's in it for me?" sort of person. Everything she does to help someone will always have an alterior motive.

There is nothing in the world to her without equal exchange. She doesn't like to be screwed over and can hold a grudge forever if betrayed. That doesn't usually happen, though, Poppy always has a deal no one could refuse, they're always fair after all!

Everything she does is transactional, even relationships. So they never last long and she's quick to find someone new once they peak her interest. They never ever get a boyfriend/girlfriend/partner label, though. She's just having fun and so are they! No need to get so serious. When you start to care about someone too much, that's when you get hurt. No thanks!

She's a great leader though and everyone is always treated well and cared for. Queen Poppy might be a bit distant and seem a bit aloof and ditzy, but she is anything but.

Everything she does is intentional, there's never a time where you let your guard down, how else us someone supposed to protect themselves?

[cssns]

Please welcome the multi-talented @spartanguard to CSSNS24!

Your Tumblr and any other applicable names

SpartanGuard

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

I watched the show from Day 1 until the very final episode; became active in the fandom during 4A, so coming up on 10 years!

When did you start shipping Captain Swan?

Actively after the first date; low-key in 3x14—"If it can be broken, that means it still works." SWOON. (You speak for all of us, Kaitlyn!)

What drew you to this event?

I love Captain Swan and I love fantasy!

What inspired your topic?

I really enjoyed the movie Jungle Cruise and there were a few aspects of Frank's character that really reminded of Killian (not saying what as I don't want to spoil the movie), so the wheels have been turning on how to adapt it into an AU for a while. But I knew it wouldn't have quite the same meaning with the OUAT characters if we just dropped them into what's essentially a historical fantasy in our world, so twisting it into something that fits into the Enchanted Forest (and associated realms) has been fun.

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

Inspired by the movie Jungle Cruise, but set in the world of OUAT; Princess Emma is searching for a cure to help her kingdom's war effort—but so is the leader of her enemy kingdom. Alongside her sister, Snow, she seeks out a guide to Neverland, where the mythical cure supposedly hides, and finds Captain Killian Jones, who is less than eager to help. Adventure, danger, and romance follow!

For our artists: What kind of art do you like to do? Picsets, painting, digital, etc? Feel free to give as much info as you like.

Mostly manips, but the occasional picset if everything I want to convey outstrips my photoshop abilities.

For our betas: Who/what have you beta'd before, or is this your first time? Feel free to give as much info as you like.

I've been beta'ing almost as long as I've been writing fic, and my day job is as an editor. (Fic is much more exciting than the things I edit at work, though!)

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

Seeing all the fun stories and adventures we get taken on!

We are beyond excited to see Kaitlyn's story drop on 8/14/24! She's also going to be an artist and beta, so she's going to be super busy for CSSNS24!