A tragedy five years ago led Henry to invite Emma in on Operation Mongoose. Finding the author proves difficult, but not nearly as difficult as the choices he presents them with.
note: Merry slightly-belated Christmas, A, from your secret crewmate! When I saw that this was a story you thought was underrated, I was embarrassed to find that I hadn’t read it yet—and immediately changed that. Your stories are always incredible and vivid, and this one was no exception! I love how you played out all of the what-ifs in it, even if some of them were heartbreaking like those first two chapters, and how you defined the role of the Author, but still gave us the perfect happy ending. It was hard not to flail all over it the first time I read it, but I wanted this to be a surprise; hope you like it! (And be ready for some shouty comments on AO3 soon!)
Dub!Artemis: "Maybe, y'know, QS was flawed and made a mistake and we're just constantly living under the consequences of those mistakes?" Jet: "YES. YOU. YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE ALLOWED TO STAY."
1. either. 2. TBTTCH right now is I get both the merit raise we were all denied this year AND an additional pay raise "just because you earned it, kiddo", COVID is suddenly eradicated, and I can suddenly talk to animals so I can explain to my cat why biting me is just not great for me, personally, and talk her through some of the clear anxieties she has about things like Birds and Noises Outside.
oh god this is SUCH a good thing this is the BEST thing that could happen, i too will be able to speak to animals and while i admire your plan to use this power for good, i will use it to harass my dogs
an AU of your AU where Emma meets Killian when he's still a Disaster Rookie and sleeps on like.... a pallet on the floor and there's piles of clothes everywhere and maybe he did laundry like... a week ago? When was that last roadie?? There's a bottle of barbecue sauce in the fridge and that kitchen table was *definitely* stolen from the curb somewhere, and none of his suits fit right because no one's told him about tailoring or not wearing hand-me-downs yet and Hockey Ass/Thighs are a thing
Ok, ok, ok, so....this got out of hand. I mean. You send me hockey things, what did you expect. I did consider making Killian play for another team besides the Rangers, but, like, even the thought hurt my soul. So we’re basically dealing with a Spiderverse kind of NYC here with disaster rookie!Killian and some shameless inspiration taken from this video about Brady Skjei and Jimmy Vesey.
Someone feed these children:
Also, I have noticed that my “read more” gets wrecked on mobile when I’m answering asks, so here’s a teaser and the rest is on Ao3. HAPPY HOCKEY PLAYOFFS I HAVE NO CHILL WHEN WRITING SPORTS FEELINGS.
So this is her, right?”
Killian arches an eyebrow, perched on the few inches of counter space they have. He fully expects whatever look lands on Scarlet’s face because that just seems to be how the man operates – a constant smirk and an expression that makes it seem like he’s already heard this joke before. It’s obnoxious.
But, like, in an almost endearing way.
In a way that makes him an alright roommate.
And an even better hockey player.
“What?”
“This girl,” Scarlet says, leaning back against the wall on the other side of the kitchen. Other side is generous. “The one who is inexplicably staying with us because—“
“—Ok, you said you were fine with it.”
Scarlet lifts both hands in mock-surrender. “Relax, relax, I’m not not fine with.”
“Why the double negatives?”
“That torture device I’m sleeping on is—“
“—A torture device?”
“You’re hysterical.”
“She’s only going to be here for like…two days,” Killian mutters, kicking his left leg out and those specific words in that specific order should not be quite that disappointing. He’s a mess. Literally. Figuratively. He hopes he doesn’t fall over on the ice tomorrow.
That would be embarrassing.
“Yuh huh,” Scarlet drawls. The expression gets even more pointed.
Killian groans, but he can’t actually roll his head back because there really isn’t much room in this kitchen and it’s probably against team rules, but it’s the season opener and his first season and he wants. In several different and decidedly selfish ways.
“Spit it out then,” Killian grumbles.
Scarlet’s lips twitch. “What?”
“Whatever opinion you’ve got percolating in that otherwise empty skull.”
“Wow. So, like, on a scale of one to thirty-seven thousand, how absolutely freaking out and absurdly nervous are you while trying to impress the girl?”
“The girl,” Killian echoes, doing his best to keep his voice even. It doesn’t work. He knows it doesn’t work. He’s going to have to do something drastic about Scarlet’s lips before Emma gets there.
She’s supposed to get there soon.
It’s fine.
Scarlet nods slowly, seriously. “The girl,” he repeats. “Your girl.”
“She’s not my girl.”
“Once more with feeling.”
“She’s not,” Killian promises, and that particular brand of disappointment is as, well, disappointing as it is expected. “She’s—“
He doesn’t have an answer. Maybe he should just fall over on the ice on purpose. Get it over with or something. Because he and Emma have always been…friends. Closer than friends. Not closer than more than friends. Just...whatever. She’d been leaving the campus gym at the same time he’d been walking in, a freshman year meet cute that was less cute than it was kind of painful because he’d turned the corner and she’d slammed into his chest and then cursed him to a variety of underworlds and it went from there.
The rest of the story (of which there is quite a lot) is on Ao3. I like sports, guys.
Emma's sure she's never been happier. But the past she thought she'd left behind starts to rear its ugly head, taking down the Boston packs one by one, and a desperate visitor in the night reminds her of the legacy she thought she'd escaped for good. Afraid of what her parents left behind and fearful for the future she and Killian are creating together, a bad moon is on the rise.
Ladies and gentlemen, our favorite pair of werewolves are getting hitched! I cannot tell you how much I’ve been waiting for this ceremony! Please join us for some laughter, tears and true love.
And we are now to our betas! These last few ladies either don’t write or art or have too many things on their plate to commit to writing or arting for the event, but they still wanted to participate! Yay! Please help me welcome @initiala back to the CSSNS!!!
Amanda is one of those who has too much on her plate at the moment to write for us again this year, but we still have more to look forward to from her Bad Moon Rising from last year! Amanda is betaing for @distant-rose, dropping in July. Everyone go say hi and give her some love!
Tumblr Name
@initiala
How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom?
Since 2013
When did you start shipping Captain Swan?
2014
What drew you to this event?
Did it last year, still working on my fic from then so I figured I'd help with beta'ing this time around while I pluck away at the werewolf fic.
What inspired your topic?
I'm beta'ing this year, so mostly just the desire to help.
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 beta'd for a lot of people in the past, I like helping with worldbuilding or tossing out silly ideas and watching my partners take it and make it into something that works well in the story. I'm also a very tough beta in terms of continuity.
What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event?
Seeing what else everyone comes up with this year!
Oh I can’t wait to see what this partnership produces for us! I’m sure it’ll be fantastic!!! Everyone go welcome her back and say hi!
initiala replied to your post “I just wrote a very short piece of something that I was very close to...”
sometimes it's okay to write something just for you and your feelings and pitching it after :)
vatrixsta replied to your post “I just wrote a very short piece of something that I was very close to...”
Writing isn't always to share - sometimes it's just therapy. Sometimes it's therapy you want to share. Sometimes you'll feel more released if you put it out there - sometimes you'll feel safe if you trash it. Basically every choice you make about it is okay :)
@initiala @vatrixsta Thanks, guys. I think after writing fanfic off and on for... a long, long time, I can’t consider a piece of writing real until it’s out in the world for public consumption. Once I’ve posted it, I can close the book on not only the work, but the feelings that went into the work. A lot of my fanfic is just personal shit masked with characters and settings from a tv show, so even this more personal writing feels like it also should be for public consumption. And what else is blogging but putting one’s own neuroses on display for friends and strangers to see?
On the other hand, there’s something fucked up about taking a dark, slightly twisted view of my own history, a perspective that I know is not fair to the people I love and is probably not fair to me either, and letting anyone who follows this blog for fanfic about a pirate and a princess consume it. What would I be doing that for? To engender sympathy? To wallow? In the hopes that someone going through the same thing feels less alone?
I mean, if you're *offering* to write some sexy jealous pirate, I won't *complain*... but I will toss you a few lines ;) "Remind me," Emma drawled, "whose ring sits on my finger? Because I was under the impression it was yours, not Lord Farley's. But if I'm mistaken..." Killian's voice growled right in her ear, "Tell me, princess, how long do you expect these errands to take? If it's reminding that you need, I've no problem taking all afternoon to jog your memory." She shivered at his promise.
The marketplace was bustling, full of sailors and passengers from the ships docked down in the harbour all come to buy fresh fruit and newly-tanned leather and all other manner of goods from the closely-packed stalls that filled the cobblestoned square. Killian’s palm rested on the small of her back, thumb rubbing slow circles while she pretended to peruse the wares laid out in front of her and smiled pleasantly at the merchant’s strapping young apprentice.
“One on the house, lassie?” he offered.
“That’s Mistress Jones to you.” Killian snapped, hand moving to curl around her waist and pulling her away from the stall while she adjusted the basket over her arm and glanced sideways at him, taking in both the flush on his neck and the way his jaw was pulled tight.
He was jealous.
An idle comment about an old suitor when she’d spotted his flag on one of the other ships had been met with several questions about the man, his height, “about as tall as you” his family, “wealthy and titled” his courtship, “he asked my father for my hand” as they made their way from the Jolly to the market with Killian’s knuckles turning whiter and whiter on the hilt of his sword with each answer.
Emma turned away from an apple cart, wrinkling her nose at the shiny pile, and found herself in a blind alley, stone walls looming tall overhead and caged in by a man who was nothing like the lord she’d once spurned, a dangerous man who lifted her ringed hand to his lips and brushed a slow, deliberate kiss along the back of it.
“Now, my dear wife, we shall retire to the inn where I will court you properly, and thoroughly, until his lordship is forgotten and there will be absolutely no mistake as to which man put this ring on your lovely finger.”
..
(and now I’m going to have to write this out fully, aren’t I?)
