For the anon who asked “i would really love if someday you can write a fic where Emma decides to cut her hair because Hope is always wraps her fingers around it, i just think about this because of your last fic.” That last fic is here, if you’re interested in more fluff. All the fluff. Almost too much fluff. This is the ever continuing saga of Laura writing canon.
It honestly surprises her it takes this long.
It’s not for lack of trying.
Really.
She’s just got…things. Too many things, honestly. Enough things to make her head spin and make sure that the few hours – minutes, seconds, moments – of uninterrupted sleep she’s getting don’t really do much to help the exhaustion Emma is certain is just part of her soul at this point.
There is, after all, an all-realm to organize and Snow White’s documentation process and Henry’s trying to find a house and the dwarves don’t seem to have gotten the several memos, metaphorical or otherwise, that both Emma and Killian have sent asking them to please, for the love of every single God either one of us can name or have met, stop using the booths at the Rabbit Hole to challenge the Vikings to feats of strength.
Summary: Into every generation a slayer is born: one girl in all the world, a chosen one. She alone will wield the strength and skill to fight the vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness; to stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their number. She is the Slayer
As ever, you can find all of my work on both AO3 and FFN too.
This is my contribution to the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer (@cssns) and will update every Friday. As the prologue was so short, I thought I’d give you chapter 1 today.
Ready to meet some of the Scooby Gang?
Artwork credit for this piece goes to my fellow Angel fan, @hollyethecurious
The young woman moaned a little in her sleep as she rolled over once more, tangling the sheets around her legs.
There was a moment of peace in the room, before she rolled back the other way and let out a soft cry of, “No! Please don’t.”
Sweat was beginning to bead on her forehead as she twisted back again. The sheets were tangling up further around her legs, binding them together tightly.
Finally, with a louder cry of, “Please no,” on her lips, she bolted awake.
As she waited for her heartrate to calm down once more, she reached over to flick on the light in the room.
The girl took a few huge gulps of water from the warm glass beside her bed, as she used the back of her arm to wipe her sweaty forehead.
She felt like she’d just run a marathon. Every inch of her body was screaming in protest, and her mind was still a jumble.
She couldn’t remember what her dream was about.
All she remembered was an urge to fight.
A need to survive.
And one loan word, printed in the darkness.
Vampyr.
Emma groaned loudly as her phone blared from its position on her bedside table, alerting her to the fact that she needed to get up. Even thought she’d crashed before ten the night before, exhausted from helping her father clean and unpack their kitchen, she still felt like she hadn’t slept at all.
The alarm was promptly followed by her father yelling, “Emma. It’s almost time for school,” up the stairs, which had her groaning a little more and burying her head under her pillow.
The first day at a new school was always a daunting experience.
Emma had been fairly popular in her old school, back in Boston. She’d had good friends; a handsome boyfriend that she enjoyed spending time with; and had been doing reasonably well in all of her classes.
But that had all changed the moment her father had been offered a new job, in a small town she’d never even heard of before. And now, Emma was having to pick up and start her life over again. She had no friends in Storybrooke. There would be no handsome boyfriend waiting for her after her classes. And she would be starting in the middle of the school year, already behind on the work her classmates were completing.
Gloriana– my Tudor Court AU with Emma as Elizabeth I and Killian as a mix of Robert Dudley and Francis Drake – was one of those fics that I did intend to continue but time just got away from me, and it did work as a one shot so I left it as it was. But I had started writing a second part forever ago and when I got this message I pulled up the file, reread it and my inner history nerd came out again….
….7,000 words later, here is Part 2. I always envisioned this as a non-linear story anyway, so there’s two flashback scenes plus a scene that takes place after part 1 and I’ve included the night at Hatfield referenced in this line, “She hadn’t been a virgin since that night at Hatfield House lo those many years ago, when Killian had taken her to his bed and made her a woman in his arms, ruining her for any other man from that day forward.”
(rated M)
Part 1 is here on Tumblr and the fic is posted on ff.net here
Gloriana – Part 2
Hampton Court Palace Some Time Ago
“I do not believe we have been properly introduced, my lord.”
“We have not, but I’m afraid I must correct you, Your Highness, as I am not a lord.”
“And I must correct you, good sir, as I am simply Lady Emma and in my sister’s court it is a foolish mistake to call me Highness.”
The tall man with bright blue eyes that reminded Emma of the sea leaned down slightly in a graceful hint of a bow and lowered his voice so that it carried only to her ears, “I assure you I am no fool, Your Highness. My name is Killian Jones, and I have come to court to swear my service solely to the Princess Emma, lawful daughter of the great King David and true heiress to the throne of England.”
Across the room Philip of Spain bowed somewhat stiffly to Emma’s half sister Mary, daughter of her late father David and his first wife, the repudiated Kathryn. The whole of the court was there to celebrate their marriage, including Emma, the rather inconvenient heiress presumptive who Mary could hardly bear the sight of at times but couldn’t quite ignore completely. The courtiers tended to follow their queen’s lead and few were brave enough to be seen conversing openly with Mary Blanchard’s daughter. Queen Mary’s memory was long and her hatred of the dark haired siren of a woman who had drawn her father away from Kathryn had never abated over the years, frequently spilling over to the only child of the passionate union between king and commoner.
It All Starts With a Dance 