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koryandr · 2 years

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Princess Enya Emma and Captain Hook Killian Jones

This turned out soooo soft and cute. I just love them, your honor

#emma swan #killian jones #captain swan #captain hook #princess emma #ouat #once upon a time #lieutenant duckling #kinda #idk #the au aint terribly defined #i found a reference image and had to make it them #my artwork #kory draws #fanart

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aprilqueen84 · 11 months

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Untitled CS Enchanted Forest AU

So I found this WIP in my Google Docs that I started forever ago and thought that I would share some of it as a bit of sneak peak.

Emma tried not to stare at him, she really did but he struck such an impressive figure that it was hard not to. Captain Killian Jones stood at a large table across the room, staring intently at the map that was on it while having an intense conversation with her father King David. He was so very handsome with his bright blue eyes, raven colored hair and his chiseled features. Not that she would ever tell him that his ego was already big enough as it is, no her ever growing infatuation for the pirate will forever remain her secret.

Emma remembers when her parents announced that they were seeking the help of a former pirate with their fight against Regina. She had been shocked at the idea, imagine trusting a pirate (because that is what he was no matter what he said) with their kingdom's military secrets and strategies, what had her parents been thinking. It was only when they sat her down and explained how dire their circumstances truly were that she understood the need for such a radical decision.

Growing up Emma had heard the stories about her parents' battles with Regina or “The Evil Queen” as she was called throughout the Enchanted Forest and that she had been banished a short time after Emma was born for failing to enact the Dark Curse. Truth be told Emma hadn’t ever really given the woman much thought, she was gone and couldn’t hurt her family anymore or so she had thought. She had been 10 years old when it happened, her and her father had been riding through the kingdom when suddenly soldiers all in black came charging out of the forest and swarmed them.

Her father tried to fight them off but he had been vastly outnumbered, fearing that she was going to lose her father Emma felt anger like never before swell up inside of her. And when she let out a scream something unbelievable happened, a blinding light shot out of her and knocked the soldiers backwards. That was when Emma and her learned that she has magic and Regina was back.

For many years after that Emma learned about her magic and how to control it all while fearing for her family and the future of the kingdom. On the day she met Captain Jones her parents explained that Regina had been gaining followers and sympathy throughout the wild southern regions and her forces had begun to push through their outer defenses. They thought that with his past as a pirate Jones would be able to gather information in places they could not. Emma hadn’t known what to expect, she was picturing a weathered, haggard old man with a wooden leg and one eye but when the most handsome man dressed in head to toe black leather she had ever seen walked through the doors of the throne room to say she was shocked was an understatement.

Emma had instantly been captivated by him, his swagger, his confidence, until he opened his mouth and she realized how insufferable he really was. The man was a walking innuendo and she was sure that if he hadn’t had been such a fantastic asset to their cause that her father would have had him hanged ages ago. So what if her heart flutters every time he’s near or skips a beat when he throws a flirtatious smile her way, he was a scoundrel and that was that.

“Emma!" The sound of her mother's voice broke her from her musings of the past. Emma turned her head to see Snow hurriedly make her way over to her.

#captain swan #cs fic #wip #cs enchanted forest au #princess emma #captain hook #snow white #prince david

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zaharadessert · 10 months

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Sacrificial Lamb

for CSSNS 2023

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: cultism, demons, kidnapping

Length: ~6k

Summary: Princess Emma of Misthaven's coming out ball does not go as expected

Notes: Thank you so much to @kmomof4 for both betaing and making me art! It's awesome! Also thank you to the @cssns mods for running this event again.

Tagging: @kmomof4 @teamhook @winterbaby89 @jonesfandonfanatic @undercaffinatednightmare @anmylica @elfiola @booksteaandtoomuchtv @tiganasummertree @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @myfearless-love @lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart

Also on AO3

- - - - -

Emma’s head felt foggy, and she was shivering with cold.

As she opened her eyes, they struggled to comprehend the space through the darkness around her.

She felt weak, as though she wasn’t in control of her own body, but she tried to sit up. The harsh wooden bench beneath her dug into her hips and snagged at the delicate white lace of her gown.

She blinked in confusion as her hair shifted around her shoulders. It had been coiffed to perfection, hadn’t it?

The last thing she remembered was dancing with the Captain of the Guard at her coming out ball…

But then the memories started to filter in.

The windows shattering and covering the entire ballroom with coloured glass.

Dozens of figures in black cloaks almost floating across the floor as they overtook the room. One, wearing a robe edged in gold, pushing through the main doors and making their way directly towards her. A hand flashing out to freeze everyone else where they stood. Her parents eyes darting frantically between them as they met in the middle of the room, Graham’s sword frozen in place, half drawn in her defence.

Her own magic sparking to life in her palms. And then…

Powder blown in her face, making her stumble and sway before her eyes fell closed and she hit the floor.

That was why the hard bench hurt so much.

She swung her feet to the floor, drawing them back from the cold stone with a hiss at the feeling of ice-cold stone beneath her feet. Her shoes had been removed, as had several layers of petticoats, causing the layers of skirt to tangle around her legs and making the material far too long. It was now nothing more than a cumbersome mess rather than an elegant sweep of fabric.

It was then, too, that she noticed the jangle of chains, connecting her feet to one end of the bench and her wrists to the other.

The echo of footsteps started to float through the air towards her, but she couldn’t tell from where.

She sat up on the bench as best she could, and concentrated on finding her magic so that she could free herself and get out of here before the men in cloaks- because she couldn’t imagine who else would be walking down here right now- came back.

But nothing happened.

She couldn’t feel anything more than an itch under her skin.

The footsteps got louder, closer, and Emma started to yank frantically at the chains.

With the nearing footsteps came a glow of light, illuminating a long rocky corridor with moisture glistening on the walls. It crept closer, highlighting the uneven walls and the hoods of the cloaks that bobbed as the people contained within walked.

She could feel panic start to rise in her chest, pushing away the remaining fog from the enchanted sleep the powder had put her into.

The light flickered and danced, torches held above the heads of the procession.

“What is the meaning of this?” Emma snapped as the figures started to surround her.

The figure in the gold-trimmed cloak walked right up to her, his face shadowed from view, but his hand reached out, fingers pale and cold as they clasped her chin, turning her face this way and that.

“Yes, the Demon we seek should be very pleased with you, Princess,” he said, his voice as cold as his fingers. “It will be a delight to watch him devour your virgin soul in return for the resurrection of the Dark One.”

Emma’s eyes widened in horror. She’d heard tales of the Dark One her whole life. Everything she knew about magic cast him as the cautionary tale in how high a price it required. She’d heard, too, about the cult that had sprung up in his absence, the men obsessed with returning Darkness to the realm.

“No!” she cried, pulling her face out of his grip and struggling against the chains once more, doing her best to summon her magic but only feeling a fire start to burn under her skin which made her cry out in pain.

“Your magic will do you no good down here. There is too much darkness, no true light can survive. Not for long, anyway.”

He flicked his hand at the chains, which released themselves from the bench. The ones attached to her ankles formed a shorter chain between them that would allow her to walk. The ones around her wrists snaked up over her shoulders and met around her neck.

The man pulled her to her feet by yanking on her arm which tightened the chain around her neck noticeably as she struggled to stand.

“You will walk.”

Emma scoffed. “To willingly assist you in returning Darkness to this realm? Never.”

Another twist of his hand and the chain between her wrists started to shrink, drawing her hands up towards her throat. The chain tightened around her neck, making her choke as she struggled to breathe. She could feel her eyes starting to bulge. Emma sank to her knees, clawing at her neck, and shivering even more as her head swam with dizziness.

Suddenly, the chains lengthened and she could breathe again.

“Do as you are told, and I’ll make this relatively painless. And the Dark One might even spare your kingdom for your assistance in his return. Get up.”

Emma realised that there was no way to fight this, not now. She would have to wait.

She struggled to stand. The long skirt of her dress, now wet with the damp filth from the floor, was heavy in her hands as she lifted it to allow her to walk.

Hands closed around her upper arms, guiding her through the torchlit gloom, preventing her from slipping on the slick ground.

They entered a chamber, rocky walls painted black with gold symbols, the same as adorned the hem of the golden edged cloak.

In the centre was a large stone altar, and Emma found herself lifted onto it, the chains at her wrists and ankles moving as commanded to secure her to it.

She struggled and cried out in protest but there was nothing to be done. The chill of the stone crept into her body. She could feel it sapping her strength and making it harder to concentrate on fighting what was being done, stealing away the hope in her heart.

All her parents had done to train her to protect herself, and… it was all she could do to lay there. Like the pathetic damsel in the stories princes and knights loved to tell.

Despair joined the fear encasing her heart as the cultists moved around her, painting more symbols on the floor.

Emma’s eyes flicked frantically around her, looking for anything to help her escape.

The cult leader arranged her dress- making the sleeves lie perfectly around the chains- splayed her hair around her head in a fan of gold, and smoothed down the wrinkles in the dirtied lace. Every time she tried to move the chains tightened a little more. He rounded the altar and stood by her head, drawing from the depths of his cloak a distinctive dagger, the edge curving wickedly like waves and held it over her body. He started to chant and she struggled against the chains until she couldn’t hold back the tears of pain any longer.

She let them fall, the heat of them almost burning her cold skin as she let out one desperate whisper as she closed her eyes.

“Please, help me.”

Emma didn’t know who she was asking or what the chanting around her meant. All she knew was that as much as she thrived on being able to save herself most of the time, she couldn’t help herself this time and her parents wouldn’t have any idea where she was. They’d been trying to rid the realm of the cult of the Dark One for years and they’d never found them. It was most unlikely they’d be able to do so now, even with the added motivation of finding her. They could still be frozen in the ballroom for all she knew.

She felt the soft, hot tracks of her tears across her face before they splashed on the stone.

Blinding pain radiated up her arms as knives sliced into her skin, burning as blood started to pour into the grooves on the table, staining her dress immediately as the tears, too, turned into a flood.

Emma screamed in agony and defiance.

But through the pain she felt a soft weight on her head and at her waist, a warmth gently passing over her hair.

“Fear not, My Queen. All will be well,” a voice like liquid velvet intoned softly next to her ear.

Her head started to swim as the blood drained out of her body, but with each weakening heartbeat, the hand on her head and at her waist felt more real.

“Can’t save…” she whispered back, shaking her head. “Dark One…” she tried again, needing him to understand.

“Isn’t that why you called on me?” the voice replied, and now she could feel breath across her shoulder and cheek as he spoke.

Emma forced her eyes to open and she looked up into brilliant blue fire. They were his eyes, of course, but in her drowsy state she could have sworn they danced with real fire. His gaze filled her with warmth, and she blinked lazily as she smiled up at him. She’d never looked into a face like his before and she found herself immediately entranced by his dark beauty.

The chanting stopped, and cries of joy rang against the walls instead.

“Who are you?” she breathed, as he wiped the tears from her cheeks with fingers that almost burned her skin with their heat.

“Foul Demon, I have summoned you…”

The demon, Emma now had the wherewithal to notice the horns poking out of the top of his head, looked up at the cultist still holding the knife over Emma’s head.

“Who summoned?” he asked coldly, and Emma felt his thumb ghosting over the wound on one of her arms, could feel warmth creeping back into her limbs as her heart started to beat a little surer once more.

“We cast the spell, we sacrificed…”

“I think you’ll find it’s her blood on the table, but interestingly, it wasn’t that which summoned me.”

“I command you to resurrect the Dark One in exchange for this sacrificed soul!”

The demon sighed and looked down at Emma. “I’m sorry, My Queen. Explaining this gross incompetence might take a moment,” he told her apologetically.

“Can’t go anywhere…” She breathed sleepily.

The demon grinned roguishly, and with four deft flicks of his clawed fingers he shattered the chains holding her down, but Emma still didn't have the strength to move. The demon sat down on the altar beside her, his fingers now trailing over the wound on her other arm and healing that one, too.

“Now, I’ve seen some truly ridiculous cults in my time, but you lot? You really do take the biscuit,” he drawled. “Firstly, this altar accepts any liquid, and you let her cry, which hit the table before her blood. So. As you were intending to use the blood, she used her own tears to summon me. Secondly, if you’d wanted her blood to work you had to partake of it somehow, because even if her blood had worked to summon the demon you intended to summon, she’d still have had control over it. Lastly, and most importantly, you’ve ended up saddled with the demon responsible for condemning the Dark One to the deepest, darkest depths of hell where his mortal soul will face its darkest fears for eternity. So… do you really think I’m going to be the one to let him out? All in all, you’ve gone and fucked this up royally…” He glanced down at Emma and grinned. “With a very pretty royal, too,” he added, and she shivered as his eyes looked her over and part of her wished she had the strength to do something to hide herself. But then his gaze flicked back to the cult leader and darkened with anger once more, his casual, instructive tone fading into menacing darkness. “So, while I appreciate the effort to find me such a delectable offering, I’m afraid… You’ve hurt My Queen…”

Emma watched as demonic darkness overtook his features. His skin turned red and his eyes turned to flame and the reality of the world around them seemed to crack as he rose to his feet, growing in height, muscles bulging, forked tail whipping back and forth in anger as a language of darkness rolled off now black lips and tongue. The long coat he wore furled out into enormous black wings which sliced the two closest cultists in half, exposing his muscled chest and drawing her gaze despite her predicament. Flame speared out of previously nonexistent slices in the very air, wrapping around the cultists and setting them aflame as he sat up and grabbed the cult leader around the throat.

“So I’m afraid it’s your souls I’ll be consuming in her name.”

The man seemed to burn alive from the inside, screaming in agony until he exploded in a shower of embers that made Emma flinch.

The demon turned back to her, his features fading back to the handsome, tempting human she’d first seen when she’d opened her eyes.

She felt a sob of relief, of gratitude rising in her chest despite the fact that she was now slightly terrified of her saviour.

He settled himself back on the side of the altar and pulled her to him, cradling the back of her head and running his hand up and down her spine, his warmth seeping into her and bringing her back to shivering rather than weakly numb with the cold.

“Fear not, My Queen. You are safe now,” he said, soothingly.

For some reason, Emma believed him, and allowed herself to sob into his shoulder as she let the fear that had plagued her since the moment the windows in the ballroom shatter subside.

“What’s your name?” she asked quietly.

The demon seemed to stiffen in surprise.

“Demon or not,” Emma reasoned as she pulled back, “I should like to know the name of my rescuer so that he may be properly acknowledged.”

The demon looked suddenly unsure of himself.

“You may not think so kindly of me in a few moments,” he replied, sounding almost sad about it.

“You were part of the vanquishing of the Dark One, and you just saved me from helping bring him back,” she pressed.

“Aye,” he replied, his voice strained.

“There are conditions to your summoning that I am unaware of,” she replied. It was a statement, not a question and he nodded in confirmation.

“The altar may not be fussy, but I’m afraid Demonic Law is,” he replied carefully.

“You still need blood.” He nodded again but she sensed there was more. “My blood.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied again. And despite his being a demon, she believed him.

“So I still have to die?” she asked, shrinking back from him a little.

“Ay…” The response had been on the tip of his tongue, but he suddenly pulled back, rising to his feet and pacing.

Emma watched him curiously as he muttered to himself, reciting something in the dark tongue she’d heard him use before. The way his lips curled around the words made her squirm a little on the cold stone and she shivered once again, the absence of his heat allowing the chill of the stone to creep back into her bones.

“Apologies, My Queen,” he said briskly, returning to her side and encouraging her to lean against him.

“Emma,” she said with a sigh as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Princess Emma of Misthaven.”

“Ah, then… I daresay no one is going to like the alternative much better,” he said as his fingers trailed up and down her arm, making her hum in contentment. He smelled amazing, far more appealing than anyone- let alone a demon- had a right to. She let herself breathe it in, getting a little lost in it.

“What is it?” she asked. Her voice sounded dreamy and sultry, even to her own ears.

“Your Highness, don’t do that.”

“Do what?” she asked, lifting her head to look into his eyes.

“Make it harder for me to not claim what I am owed without explaining myself first,” he managed to grind out through gritted teeth. There was no anger in his words, only a possessive spark in his eyes as he looked her over.

Emma straightened her spine, her eyes wide and startled as her breath stuttered in her throat. “I… I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he replied with a warm smile. “The other option to spilling your blood and claiming your soul for hell now, since I have fulfilled the task you summoned me for, is to take an… alternative virgin blood.”

Emma felt her cheeks heat immediately with embarrassment and she looked away.

He hooked his finger under her chin, and looked into her eyes.

“I understand what this would mean in human terms, but you would need to understand this in demonic terms. We would be bound to each other. I would relinquish my immortal calling and live by your side as your protector and… lover… until your soul and your mortal body part ways. At which point, we will return to hell, and you are bound to me for eternity.”

He was being honest, that much she could tell.

“But that isn’t always the case, is it? I mean… don’t demons regularly defile virgins?” she asked hesitantly, not wanting to offend him.

He chuckled, low and deep and it rumbled in his chest making her breath catch.

“It’s complicated. But most cults realise that virgin blood simply means from a vessel that has never been used for a sacrifice before,” he explained.

Emma frowned, looking down at the hands clasped in her lap. “But then… my blood wouldn’t work that way, anyway.”

“Technically, their ritual was not completed so your blood remains viable. I could still just kill you. But Princess, you’re far too lovely to waste on such a thing when I can have you for eternity…” His tone was laced with hunger that made a shiver run down her spine. He leaned in, his breath ghosting over her neck again and making goosebumps rise across her skin. “Let me seduce you, My Queen. I promise you won’t be disappointed in the result. We’ll rule your kingdom together, you light magic balancing out my darkness and when we get back to hell you can torture every soul who ever hurt those you care for into madness.”

Even his offer was seductive, and Emma’s eyes slid closed, her head tilting away from his, almost offering him her neck. His forked tongue flicked out to caress the shell of her ear and she gasped, her eyes snapping open as she pulled back just a little. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest.

“I smell good, don’t I? Your body knows what we could have. It’s a rare opportunity. Not everyone can even hope to make this attempt. You are unique, Emma. I can feel your soul calling out to mine and it’s taking everything in me not to claim it.”

She could feel it too, the want, the need to let him have what should have been promised to the prince of another kingdom. Something she should be guarding with more fervour than her own life. But who was there to stop her? There was no other heir to the kingdom, if she died today…

“My kingdom will need an heir,” she found herself muttering.

“Then we’ll give them more than enough to pick from,” he promised without hesitation.

“They’ll be… human?”

“As much as it matters. Like I said, my darkness and your light will create a balance within them. They will likely have magic as you do, and they may be stronger than other humans, live longer, I mean. But… is that such a curse?”

Emma absorbed this. Why she was asking him this, turning this into some kind of negotiation she wasn’t entirely sure, but here they were. She needed to think of her kingdom and not let the need singing in her blood overpower her just yet.

“Tell me your name,” she replied, looking up at him, determinedly.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’m not going to agree to eternity with someone who won’t even tell me their name,” she declared, almost haughtily.

“If I tell you my name…?”

Emma held his gaze, and smiled. It was small, almost seductive.

“Then I shall be yours. For eternity.”

“My name is Killian Jones,” he told her, in a way that suggested he hadn’t spoken it aloud in a very long time.

“Be gentle with me, Killian,” she requested, suddenly nervous.

With a groan, Killian hooked a finger under her chin once more and tilted her head up, bringing his lips to meet hers.

Emma felt a rush in the pit of her stomach as the warmth of his lips brushed hers and her eyes slid closed.

His hands moved to cradle her face, holding her exactly where he wanted her as his lips caressed hers, pulling back and changing angles, guiding her as his fingers threaded back into her hair. His lips peppered kisses across her cheek and down onto her neck.

Her eyes snapped open as she gasped at the sensation sparking through her entire body. Her hands curled around the lapels of his now returned coat, soft leather and velvet warm under her palms.

One hand moved around to her back, hand splaying across her spine and pulling her into his lap where she shuddered at the way his warmth seemed to wrap round her. Her own hand moved, threading into his hair, silky and soft and she pulled back a little to look at him again, breathing ragged, chest heaving, before she pulled his lips back to hers, moaning softly as he responded with a groan that made her core clench with need.

She kissed him harder now, taking back a little control and letting instinct take over.

The sticky dampness of her skirt forgotten, pain wiped from her mind, Emma kissed him like her life depended on it. He responded by holding her tighter against him and she could have sworn her skin was burning where the lace of her dress was thinner.

And then she felt calloused fingers on her back, not having noticed that he’d been undoing the delicate buttons down the back of her dress. She gasped as she pulled back to look at him, eyes wide and unsure.

“Don’t back out now, Darling. I don’t think I could restrain myself,” he said, his tone soft but his eyes full of dark promise.

Her core clenched again at his words. “I’m not, I…” she swallowed, trying to gather words that could explain. “Touch me more,” she requested, shyly.

“Gladly.” He grinned back at her.

A sweep of his arm and a twist of his claws tore the encumbrance of the sodden lace from her legs. Winding his other arm around her waist, he lifted her just enough that it slipped from her form and onto the floor, leaving her more exposed in front of a man that she had ever been in her life and she found herself revelling in the thrill of it.

He set her down so that she was straddling his thighs, exposing her and making her flush with excitement and self-consciousness in equal measure. His fingers barely grazed her thigh, but it felt like a spark of magic across her skin.

“More, My Queen?” he asked, and she could hear the smirk in his voice before she even looked up at his face.

The moment she met his gaze, his fingers started a teasing dance across her skin and she couldn’t help but moan, her eyes falling shut and her head falling back into his hand, just waiting to cradle her head.

“Such perfect, delicate skin…” he murmured, watching as his claws raised red lines on her pale flesh, and she whimpered at the hint of pain through the burning pleasure she was already feeling. His hand splayed over her thigh, gripping and squeezing as his other hand slipped down from her neck to continue to unbutton the back of her dress.

“That’s it Darling, let me hear you,” he murmured just before his lips found her neck once more. Kissing down towards her collarbone, his pointed teeth grazed her skin, always followed quickly by the soothing heat of his tongue.

And Emma gladly sang the pleasure of it towards the ceiling of the dim cavern, moans and cries and gasps spilling from her lips until the dance of his fingers ran through the slickness between her legs. Her hand twisted in his hair, making him hiss in pain and growl, delivering a slightly sharper nip to the skin of her shoulder.

“I won’t be able to be gentle with you if you can’t reciprocate, Darling,” he told her, firmly, speaking right into her ear and nipping at her earlobe.

Emma responded with a moan and a roll of her hips that had his fingers brushing that spot again. “Killian, please,” she whimpered.

“Do you really think I’m going to stop?” he questioned with a chuckle. “Oh, Princess, you have no idea just how much I have in store for you.”

“Show me,” she replied breathily.

“As you wish…” That was all he said before his head dipped, his teeth catching the neckline of her dress and twisting his head to tear the lace and the silk chemise from her chest, exposing her corset.

Emma shivered as the cool air of the cavern hit her skin, but the cold didn’t last for long as Killian’s lips found the tops of her breasts, kissing, licking, sucking and nipping as her chest heaved with panted breaths and the fingers below started to caress in earnest.

Her hips rolled into his fingers, her back arched to bring her chest to meet his mouth and the angle caused her corset to slip just enough that the next sweep of Killian’s tongue wrapped around her nipple.

Emma bucked in his arms, and as he growled with want, his assault of pleasure on her body was renewed. He seemed intent to torment her with it, to ensure that she thought of nothing else ever again other than the next time he could put his hands on her body.

With every sweep of his tongue or caress of his fingers, Emma was sure this was it, that it could not get any better. But with every frantic beat of her heart, he proved her wrong. She was babbling incoherently while he murmured encouragements into her skin. Emma didn’t think she would ever tire of hearing his velvety dark voice telling her how beautiful and perfect she was, that she was made for this, for him. He was relentless and determined, and she didn’t care how wanton she might look, all she wanted was for him to keep going, to drive her higher, to…

“Come for your demonic prince, My Queen,” he commanded, his lips just below her ear, pressing a kiss to her pulse point before dropping back to wrap around her nipple, sucking hard as his tongue flicked over it just right.

And then her whole body seemed to freeze in place, stars dancing behind her eyes as her muscles started to tremble and he pulled her more securely into his arms, his lips now caressing her hairline, his murmurs calming, soothing, reassuring.

She let herself breathe into his neck, shallow breaths coming out on satisfied hums as each muscle in her body seemed to relish in the slow drift back from the peak of her pleasure.

“That was…”

“Remarkable to behold, but we’re far from done,” he promised.

“I’m not that naive,” she protested, pulling back to frown up at him. Okay, so she’d never been told details, but animals did the deed, too, and…

“Is that so?” he asked with a raised eyebrow that made her eyes narrow even more. “Then would you like to tell me what I plan on doing with my tongue, next?”

Emma flushed scarlet and dropped his gaze. With a soft chuckle he hooked a finger under her chin once more and made her look into his eyes.

“I’m going to lick your pussy clean, and then I’m going to make a mess of you all over again,” he promised, his hand dropping from her chin to press the fabric of her dress into the wetness still dripping from her.

Emma whimpered, her eyes sliding closed and blushing even harder.

“Fuck, you’re so responsive,” he praised, pressing a kiss to her lips. “It’s intoxicating.”

“Am I?” she murmured back, her lips blindly chasing his for another kiss.

“Let me taste you, Emma,” he replied, nudging her nose with his own before capturing her lips again. His tongue pressed them apart to caress hers and she welcomed him into her mouth with a moan.

“I take it that’s not how you meant?” she queried when he ended the kiss with a soft peck to the tip of her nose.

He shook his head with a salacious grin. “Lie back for me.”

Emma looked over her shoulder at the stained and bloody table before looking back at him.

But it seemed she didn’t even have to voice her discomfort at that idea, and with a roll of his shoulders, the leather vanished from under her fingers and was once again transformed into wings which curled around her and easily took her weight as she sank back into their warmth with a hum of contentment.

The intensity with which he looked down at her was like nothing she’d ever experienced before and it made her blush.

He grinned. It was toothy, and hungry and it was only a moment before he leaned in, pulling the soiled white dress from her body as he kissed his way over each revealed inch of skin. He pushed apart her bare thighs and she squirmed under the heat of his gaze as he licked his lips salaciously before lowering his head, his eyes meeting hers as he brought his tongue to her core.

It was Emma that broke eye contact with him as her back arched with pleasure and her eyes closed with the potency of it. The heat of his tongue was like nothing she’d ever imagined. The graze of his fingers on her thighs was intoxicating. She could feel the vibrations of words she couldn’t hear through the rush of blood in her ears, could feel the hoarseness of her voice increasing with cries that she couldn’t comprehend.

He built her up quicker this time, the feelings so overwhelming she could feel her consciousness wavering. She could feel herself teetering on the brink of an abyss that part of her longed to welcome, but he kept licking, caressing, sucking on her until she came back to herself with another wave of pleasure as he shifted above her. His mouth found hers, kissing her hard and then she became aware of a slight burn and pressure down where his tongue had been.

Her eyes snapped open as she squeaked with the discomfort, building towards pain. “Relax, My Queen, the pain will be over soon,” he purred into her ear. “Let it happen,” he encouraged, his fingers finding her clit once more and making her back arch.

She felt him slip further in, and then something inside her seemed to break and she cried out at the sensation. She didn’t know if it was pain or pleasure in that moment but she had never felt so full.

Above her, he let out a strangled groan, his muscles tense as his eyes fell shut for a moment before they snapped open, burning with blue fire once more.

“Mine,” he growled.

“Yes,” she choked out. “Killian…”

He kissed her again, and started to move. It burned slightly, but with each thrust of his hips the discomfort turned to pleasure and she found herself moving with him, meeting his hips with her own as her legs curled around his waist.

He littered her neck with kisses and nips as she cried out his name into the darkness around them. She embraced the peak of her pleasure once more, fingers tight in his hair, lips sealed against his as she tried to keep herself moving for him, so that he could finally join her.

“This will be a little hot…” he warned as his thrusts sped up, hips stuttering a little before Emma felt a rush of heat inside her. It was strange, but she fell in love with the feeling, knowing she would want more of it before long.

“I feel so…” she started, searching for the right word to convey everything. There would never be anything like this, wrapped in his arms, filled with his seed, feeling his breath across her neck. “Complete,” she settled on.

Killian raised his head and smiled down at her, brushing his nose against hers.

“Incredible,” he murmured, shifting to pull out of her. Emma felt the flood of his spent leave her body and he glanced down, shifting his wings to let the mix of his cum and her blood fall onto the altar. “And now all immortal planes are satisfied, as well as us,” he said, looking back up at her.

With the sweat cooling on her skin, Emma felt suddenly self-conscious and looked away.

“Regretting me already, Princess?”

Emma’s eyes snapped back up to his face, to find disgust starting to settle in his features. She reached up and brushed the tips of her fingers across his brow.

“No, I… I’m sore… and almost naked with a demon, and… I don’t know what to…”

“Your demon,” he corrected, a hint of a smile starting to curve at his lips. “We can be completely naked, if you would prefer? Or maybe you’ll make me wait for a human wedding night to have that final prize?” he teased, making her blush all over again.

“I can’t go back home without a corset. I’m already severely lacking in the rest of my attire,” she reasoned, embracing the chance at levity.

“Well, for the moment, that is a sacrifice I am happy to watch you endure,” he commented, taking a good look, his fingers tracing the edge of her corset.

“You’re incorrigible,” she commented with a sigh. “But I really would like to get out of here if that’s all the same to you.”

“We’ll find you some clothes on the way out.” He offered his hand to help her sit up, gathering her into his arms.

“Just get me out of here, and I can summon something from home,” she said with a smile as she laid her head against his chest.

“As you wish, My Queen,” he replied as he stood from the altar, wings melting back into his leather coat. Shadows curled up around them as the cavern melted away, but even once they were out in the open again, there was no chill strong enough to reach her. Not with her demon by her side.

#captain swan #cssns23 #zaharadessert writes #demon killian #princess emma #art by krystal

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lenniharrisonsims · 13 days

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Behind The Scenes...

Cheiftain's Villa, Sulani Independant Islands, 2:27am

*The following post depicts a character passing away from a heart attack due to complications from childbirth. If either of these topics are sensitive to you, please take responsibility for your own mental health and refrain from reading. Thank you.*

*Albert & Martha sleeping, Della begins cooing*

*Martha gets up to check on her*

*Martha feels a pain and tightness in her chest that causes her to pause*

Albert: (half-asleep) Is it my turn to change her?

*No response from Martha, who is focused on the discomfort in her chest*

Albert: Martha? Martha are you okay?

*Martha stands and immediately collapses*

Albert: Martha!

*Albert runs to her side*

Albert: Martha! Martha what’s wrong!? Speak to me, meine leibes!

*Victor, Agathe, Eugene, and Emma rush into the bedroom after hearing Albert shouting*

Agathe: What is it, Albert, what’s wrong?

Albert: I don’t.. I don’t know- Martha! Martha please wake up!

*Albert attempts CPR*

Emma: Mama…

Eugene: Oh my god…

Agathe: No, no, no, no, no. Not my baby, not my baby!!

Albert: My love, oh my love…

*Victor watches, but says nothing*

#tw:war #tw: war #tw: depictions of death #tw: heart attack #tw: complications from pregnancy #ts4 #ivanov legacy #ts4 simblr #ts4 legacy #behind the scenes #crown princess martha #lord albert #emperor victor #empress agathe #prince eugen #princess emma #princess edaline

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the-darkdragonfly · 8 months

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WIP Wednesday: Tempest - A Captain Duckling Tale

Chapter 8 - Coming Soon!!

“Scarlet!” Killian boomed, his voice thundering across the deck, all hands pausing in their work of loading the vessel with the rest of the goods, turning to watch young William Scarlet and their Captain. William stood, having been crouched low inspecting the lowering of grain stores into the forward hold, and turned to his captain, face blank and at the ready.

“Below deck,” he snapped, turning away as the large coat swung around his legs, “now!”

William held his mask of deference until they were safely away from the eyes of the crew, before screwing his eyes shut and to feel his way along the walls of the hallway as Killian led him into his quarters.

“What are you doing, you wee fool?”

“I’m afraid I might see som’et I shouldn’t, aren’t I?”

Killian growled- we’ll talk about your flagrant lack of respect later- rolling his neck out against the tension which had ebbed and flowed through his veins since William’s lifeblood had seeped from his body, white pale and dying on a dock at his feet. He’d been helpless to stop it, and while he’d lost men before, he wasn’t prepared to lose the boy who had so much a son to him.

But Emma… she had saved him. She had saved his son.

“Could’a been worse, I s’pose,” William continued, cracking one eye open dramatically then the other when he had ascertained that the coast was in fact clear of naked women. “I could’a seen ye’r bare arse.”

“William…” his tone was low and warning, but Scarlet ploughed on.

“I may not ‘ave recovered from ‘at…”

“Are you quite finished?”

Scarlet nodded, gesturing with a flourish for Killian to continue, a smile nipping at the corner of his mouth.

♥️♥️♥️♥️

Catch up here.

Read my other stuff here.

Tagging the usual suspects 😘

@elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @sailtoafarawayland @teamhook @wefoundloveunderthelight @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @veryverynotgood @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @jrob64 @kmomof4 @artistic-writer @gingerpolyglot @xarandomdreamx @justanother-unluckysoul @zaharadessert @xsjax @karlyfr13s @tiganasummertree @wyntereyez @klynn-stormz @onceratheart18 @rkrbirdgirl @ouatdaily @blowmiakisscolin @courtorderedcake @winterbaby89 @pirateprincessofpizza @superchocovian @deckerstarblanche @alexa-fangirl-forever @stahlop @undercaffinatednightmare @lostintheskyfaraway @anmylica @motherkatereloyshipper @last-tsarina @lfh1226-linda @hookedmom @yikes-00 @midnightsuki @paradiselady19 @jonesfandomfanatic

#tempest #a captain duckling tale #the darkdragonfly #captain swan #killian jones #cs fanfic #emma swan #emma and hook #princess emma #william scarlet is a pain the ass

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snowbellewells · 2 years

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Happy Birthday Krystal!!!: An EF AU Birthday Fic

This fic is a birthday gift for @kmomof4 who deserves all the gifts and flails, love and hugs possible for this fandom to give!! I am so blessed to know her and be in the same fandom as she is. I hope she’ll enjoy this story (it grew from a drabble I wrote ages ago for a hiatus prompt, and if memory serves, Krystal wanted me to continue). There will be one more part, soon I hope.

Enchanted Forest AU with Princess Emma and Pirate Killian (though not in quite the same way he became one in canon....)

***Also available on AO3 if you prefer***

“The Weight of the Crown (is a Feather on the Waves)”

by: @snowbellewells

“Emma! – That is, your Highness! You cannot be serious! The law clearly states…” but it is here that her disgruntled and rapidly nearing insubordinate advisor, Sir Sydney trails off at the cool, quelling look she cuts him with her sharp jade eyes.

Her Royal Highness Emma Swan, her parents’ only heir and now Queen of Misthaven after their loss mere months ago, is tired of all these sycophants – people surrounding her who may have truly loved and respected her parents, but have none of that trust in her, and think that at barely eighteen she can be easily swayed to their way of seeing things. She has no use for their simpering, their seeming obeisance barely hiding their disapproval any time she takes a step beyond what they deem proper. The intrigues of court and the careful diplomacy needed to navigate it had always made her uncomfortable. Now, though, she has no choice; she must try to take the reins in her parents’ stead and do her best to live up to their legacy, like it or not. But she doesn’t trust the lot of them, any more than they trust her it seems. Especially not with this…

They had brought him before her hours ago now, shackled and tugged between two heavily breathing guards, attesting to just what a struggle he had given them in getting that far. A concerning trickle of blood had run from his hairline, showing they had been none too gentle in accosting him as it was. Still, he stood tall as he was pulled to a stop before her throne - a single one rather than the joined pair on the dais which had always beautifully represented her parents’ partnership in rule, and in all things. How she wished she had a partner to lean on now. When his dark hair was gripped roughly to jerk his head up to meet her gaze, those fathomless blue eyes had caught Emma’s, just as they always had, and she knew that even now he had lost none of the pride and honor he had always possessed. Though so much time had passed since she had seen that clear-eyed look every day and thought he might be that companion.

Breaking unbidden into her thoughts, Lady Bleu, a former nun who came to their court from France after some intrigue which Emma had never been made privy to, speaks up next. Once the governess who had ruled Emma’s nursery with an iron fist and shooed away the kinder maids like Ashley and Nova who would have played with her and been entertaining, affectionate friends, Bleu lays a cool hand on Emma’s wrist, where it sits tensely on the armrest of her throne, and it is all Emma can do not to shrug her off. The woman had been a close confidante of her late mother’s, but Emma has never felt at ease with having the woman foisted on her from birth. Even as a monarch in her own right, the sanctimonious matron is always at her elbow offering advice Emma does not want. “All Sir Sydney means,” Lady Bleu offers in a tone intended to be soothing and placating, but which sets Emma’s teeth on edge and makes her skin crawl, “is that the law is adamant when it comes to piracy of any kind. I know that you suggest a fine and the stripping of both naval title and benefits in a spirit of mercy and remembrance of childhood friendship, nothing more, but leniency here could be read as fatal frailty, and in this time of upheaval, we cannot allow others to think us weak; it will lead to more unrest and worse crimes.”

It is all Emma can do not to roll her eyes so far back in her head that the entire court can see her frustration. Biting the inside of her cheek until she can taste blood, Emma forces herself not to respond until she can say something that is not a direct insult to her elders. “Still, no one was harmed. Nothing of any value was taken,” she reasons, trying to sound as if she is not half as emotionally invested as she is in truth, but merely attempting to be a fair and honorable judge. “It would seem to me that a more thorough investigation – “

“What does it matter if he did anything this time?” her “Uncle Grumpy”, another dear friend of her mother’s who had never quite warmed to Emma in the same way he had to the woman who had borne her, interjects. “We have him in our grasp now. He has certainly done enough in his previous raids to warrant the standard punishment. The man is a brigand, a blackguard…and his death will mean one less pirate to worry about prowling our waters and attacking our shores.”

Emma’s cheeks flush with the high emotion of distress which she must hide. The mere thought of his booted feet dangling in air as the life leaves his body, his neck caught in the hangman’s noose – and at her behest – almost more than she can bear. It is too much, too much to ask of her in royal obligation. But she blinks the panic away, pulling the calm, regal mask she wears in public down over her face. She must play this next part convincingly for him to have a chance at survival, and therefore for her own heart to keep beating unscathed. A plan is hatching in her mind, but she gives no indication of her racing thoughts. Lowering her eyes demurely, Emma feigns exhausted acquiescence and devotion to duty, nodding shortly as if she finally accepts their wise guidance. They have been debating the matter since high noon when he was brought before her in chains, dragged down the aisle to her throne and forced to his knees at her feet by her personal guard – young men he had once played at sword fighting with long ago when they were all younger, they pages and he a stable boy.

“Very well,” she murmurs quietly but clearly, making sure that those assembled hear every word. All depends on them believing in her resolve at this juncture; none can suspect what she truly intends. “It will be as you say. His sentence is to be carried out at dawn, according to the letter of our law. Now, leave me.” The last is utterly firmly, brooking no further discussion, and wisely none of those assembled dares speak to her again.

Shaking their heads and murmuring to themselves about why there should have been any question, her various councilors and advisors file from the room, overall seeming pleased that their young regent has finally seen the sense in their words. Emma is alone in the large throne room at last. Turning her eyes heavenward, where she trusts her parents – more fit rulers than she had ever hoped to be – will understand. “I am sorry,” she whispers brokenly before she steels her spine and determination overtakes over her form as she adds, “but please give me strength.”

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

It is in the true dark watch of the night that Queen Emma, feeling very small and like the orphaned, often uncertain princess she truly is, slips undetected from her opulent bedchamber and through the castle she has lived in since birth, knowing exactly the path she must take to alert no one and remain unseen. Winding her way swiftly and silently down staircases and through empty halls, she finally makes her way to the dungeons without anyone being the wiser.

Quickly sending a burst of magic at the two guards posted in the entry of the dungeons, and another at the one who stands outside the condemned pirate’s cell, they never know what hit them and cannot tell anyone who questions them later. Her parents had always fearfully cautioned her to keep her magic secret, and so the secret had died with them; the only other person who had ever known of that part of her is the man she is here to save.

A pale beam of moonlight slants through the high window into his cell, half-illuminating his ruggedly handsome face and making his blue eyes sparkle where he reclines on the rude cot in the corner. At hearing her light, hurried footsteps, his head jerks up, and upon seeing her, he sucks in an audible gasp of breath. “Swan!” he exclaims in a shocked whisper. “You cannot be here, Lass!”

He is on his feet and standing at the front of his cell, mere inches from her now, where she has pulled to a sudden stop. It is closer than they have been in years - years that she had spent wondering where he was, if he was well, if he still lived and if he would ever return. His chest heaves with agitated breaths, and his right hand clutches the bars in a tight grip as he readies himself to argue with her further.

They have no time for that.

“You idiot!” she hisses back at him, not bothering with trying to swipe the keys from the ring on the guard’s belt, but instead waving her hand impatiently at the lock on the cell door, allowing it to swing open and him to rush forward and sweep her into his arms. “Where else would I be?” she finishes, her voice slightly muffled against his shoulder where he presses her close.

“You’ve decreed my death on the morn for piracy, your Majesty,” he reminds her wryly, the gentle way he smooths his strong hand over her soft hair and down her back belying the somewhat accusatory words. “Do you not think some might find you visiting me in the night and freeing me from my cell a bit scandalous?”

“Enough!” she orders, a bit of her royal upbringing creeping back into her tone. Her tone and bearing effectively cut him off, even as she clutches his hand in hers, gentling the harsh words with the action. She will drag him out after her if necessary, and they can argue about her recklessness and irresponsibility later… once he is safe.

However, Killian Jones – her friend, the man who somewhere along the way she secretly began to love, the man who had proudly served in her father’s Navy with his older brother, who had only turned pirate to pursue the crooked commander who had ordered his brother’s death and had evaded her father’s detection – does not budge. His hand pulls her back. “What are you thinking, Swan?” he asks, once more using his childhood nickname for her. “You cannot risk being implicated with me. Your country needs you, and I…I will not see you punished alongside me for my crimes.”

“What crimes?” she whispers, her lips trembling with emotion, but her voice managing to remain steady as she takes in his dear, handsome face. There is a scar high on his cheek, long healed but which has never seen before. Tentatively, she reaches up to brush her fingers over it, as if to soothe a pain which had long since faded, and he closes his eyes to savor her touch. “We both know you are not the criminal they all claim. You have encountered more honor among your crew of so-called thieves and pirates than you did among your commanding officers or I have among my own inner circle. If only my parents had died before we could prove it…”

“While that may be the truth, Love,” a bit of the rogue most believed him to be showing in his words and a small, sad smile tugging at one corner of his full lips, “I do not think most will see it that way. If you were hurt or shamed because of loyalty to me, that would wound me more than any punishment they could mete out.”

She turns, allowing herself a moment of weakness to mourn all that could have been, all that she will miss before turning to face him with firm resolve. “You should have thought about that before you returned. I will not see you hanged come morning – not when I am able to stop it.”

He swallows hard, some emotion Emma cannot quite fathom swimming in his deep blue gaze. “I had to come, Lass. You had just lost both your parents. When I received word…”

But Emma shakes her head, snapping back to the task at hand, knowing the time for them to work out everything else is when they are on his ship and safely away from here. “Not now, Killian. Trust me. I know what I am doing, and I deem it worth the risk. Just follow me. That is an order…from your Queen.”

A sardonic smile quirks one side of his mouth, but he does not argue with her again, nor hesitate any further, merely dips his head in a short nod and murmurs, “As you wish, Milady.”

Hand in hand they steal from her palace, leaving behind the birthright that she cannot stand to carry alone any longer, not if the price to keep it is the life of the only person who has ever truly known and understood her. When the large bells clang their distress signal with the dawn, alerting the castle and the surrounding city of the escaped prisoner and missing queen, they are already far out to sea in his ship – beyond hearing, beyond capture.

As the new day dawns sparkling on the ocean, Emma feels exhilarated by the rise and fall of each cresting wave. She is no longer Queen, but freer than she has ever been…and reunited with the man she loves. She has given up her crown but preserved her soul.

Tagging a few others who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @apiratewhopines @jrob64 @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @anmylica @sotangledupinit @donteattheappleshook @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @winterbaby89 @wefoundloveunderthelight @cosette141

#birthday ff #gift for @kmomof4 #cs Enchanted Forest au #the weight of the crown (is a feather on the waves)#princess emma #pirate killian

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their-seafaring-ways · 1 year

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Belated Merry Christmas @captainodonoghue it is I, your gift exchange gifter, bringing forth an idea (and a part) for a story that I hope you will like as much as I adore your gifsets.

Additionally, I'd love to thank @superchocovian for being an absolutely amazing beta/santa's helper- asking the right questions and giving me helpful suggestions and feedback for the upcoming parts of this work.

I'd also like to thank @csgiftexchange for hosting the event, it was a true joy to join it.

BOTTOM OF THE DEEP BLUE SEA [0.5/?]

Summary:

When Princess Emma's childhood sweet heart (Lieutenant Killian Jones), is presumed dead. She sets out on a journey to find the truth- finding him in the most unsavory of places. Only to discover that she's nothing but a prisoner to him- will the power of true love shine through or will they forever be resigned to this cruel twist of fate.

Additional notes, related to the story are posted at the very bottom of this post. Hope you enjoy :)

The beginning:

Transcript:

(Includes some minor tweaks and an

additional scene of sorts)

The first time she saw him was by the willow whisp valley. A dark silhouette just meters away from her. She moved towards the stranger- knife drawn defense on the ready, only to see a forlorn man. She moved closer intending to keep quiet- the snapping of a twig underneath her feet giving her away.

Stepping out into the light and cutting him to the chase

She asked- "What are you doing here? No one really comes here anymore."

Turning to face her he said "similar reasons to you love- peace, calm, serenity, tranquility.....you list it".

Later, they sat together by the lake, a certain sense of understanding forged between the two of them. Setting the foundation for an unexpected, yet expected bond that drew them closer together.

Leading to the present day: Emma raced down to the valley, Killian's letter clutched tight to her chest. Once at their, safe haven she devoured its contents, thumbing the faint imprint of words as a faint smile crossed her face.

My dearest swan,

Not a day passes by where I don't think of you my love. Perhaps one day your father will let you voyage with Liam, the crew and I.

The sights here are positively wondrous! Just last week we saw the fabled yeti on a hill! I'm just pulling your leg love, It's just one of me mates (will) dressed up.

All, humor aside, my dearest swan, what would you like back from our travels- a pin, a dress, perhaps some books, me? All flirtation aside, I hope you're doing well Swan- I await your reply.

Your dashing rascal,

Killian

Note (regarding a picture of an yeti in the letter): I like to think that Killian found a camera during one his voyages or that, he bought it from a rare artifacts shop.

Preview of the next part:

Times at Misthaven weren't looking too good for Emma. Just last week she had been riding high after receiving a letter from Killian and now- a messenger bringing forth a plank of enchanted wood, claiming it to be from the Jewel of the Realm.

Additional notes:

The next update will be up in Febuary (late ik but there's a couple of ideas, I have that I wanna see through- before I put a final update up).

I will be finishing this fic, if I don't feel free to hound me.

I think there will be a written down version of this chapter- not 100% sure.

PS: this was my first time making a gifset (hopefully it turned out okay- saddly the words were barely legible so appologies for that). Have a good day/night and stay safe- I'd love to hear any feedback or ideas you/anyone reading this post has *tips hat*.

#captain hook #captain swan #emma swan #killian jones #once upon a time #otp #princess emma #Lieutenant killian #blackbeard #BOTTOM OF THE DEEP BLUE SEA #csge2022 #chaotica

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lenniharrisonsims · 19 days

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Windenburgian Crown Princess Gives Birth

Known within the New Windenburgian Empire as Queen of Sulani, but recognized as the Crown Princess of Windenburg everywhere else, Emperor Victor's eldest child and heir, Princess Martha Lofton-Strauss gave birth to her third child last week- a daughter.

The announced pregnancy and now this birth announcement came as a surprise to many due to the large age gap between the Princess' two older children and this new baby- Her second child, Princess Emma, just starting high school, and her eldest, Prince Eugene, a recent high school graduate. So many were shocked to find out the Princess, who seemed to be done having children, was pregnant again.

Despite medical professionals calling this a "geriatric pregnancy," the Crown Princess is reportedly safe and in good health after the delivery, as is her very healthy baby girl.

Royal commentators were quick to note that they expect Emperor Victor might be unhappy about the birth of his most recent grandchild, since he has such a focus on male heirs. But that doesn't seem to bother the Crown Princess and her family, who all look pleased to welcome another member.