Summary: District Nurse and midwife Emma Swan has her priorities sorted out: babies first, friends second, and men… somewhere further down the list. That is until she meets Killian Jones and his son Liam who have a way of worming their way into her heart. (CS AU Week Day 5: Another Time)
Notes: So this is a Call the Midwife AU, you don’t need to watch the show to read this fic but I HIGHLY recommend it! HUGE shoutouts to @holdmecloseandfast for being an amazing beta and telling me so much about childbirth and kids, @shipsxahoy for this gorgeous banner, and @potentialheartofdarkness for encouraging me when I wasn’t sure how this was going to turn out.
Also squick warning for child birth, this is a midwife fic after all. (ff.net/ AO3)
WC: 1.8K/ Rated B for Birth and Backstory
“Okay Mary Margaret you’re doing great! You’re almost there,” Emma Swan tried to say soothingly over the sound of people ringing in the New Year just outside the window. Mary Margaret Nolan nodded and groaned as she pushed with all her might. “Good good! The baby’s head is born, you’re nearly there!” The contraction passed and Mary Margaret relaxed as much as she could, trying to regain some strength before the next contraction hit.
“This baby’s certainly taking its sweet time,” she said between deep breaths.
“Believe it or not, but this isn’t the longest labor I’ve seen. There was one woman who was in labor for 24 hours,” Emma soothed.
“Oh dear Lord, that must have been awful,” Mary Margaret grimaced. Emma noticed Mary Margaret’s breathing begin to speed up again and the furrow set in her brow.
“That’s good Mrs. Nolan, just keep panting like that!” Emma watched as one shoulder than the other came through and with one last push the rest of the baby came. His little limbs waved back and forth, his little foot kicked Mary Margaret in the thigh. Mary Margaret collapsed back on to the pillows of her bed exhausted, her brow shining with sweat. Church bells began to ring followed by many shouts and whoops of joy as the new year was announced.
“Is the baby okay?” Mary Margaret asked, once she caught her breath. Emma wrapped the newborn boy in a blanket, rubbing gently on his chest to get him to cry. The boy fussed and let out a loud wail, alerting his mother and possibly the whole block that he was here, Mary Margaret smiled and pushed herself up onto her elbows, a wide smile on her face. Emma cut the cord and gathered him in her arms, taking the pink and squealing infant into her arms.
“He’s fine, ten fingers and ten toes and what sounds like a very good set of lungs. He might just be the first baby of 1958,” Emma smiled and weighed and measured the baby and re-swaddled him before handing him to Mary Margaret, “Do you and your husband have a name picked out?”
Notes: Hoping this doesn’t get lost in the sea of wonderful AUs, but it’s done, hallelujah, and I have to get it out there.
Finally, some happiness! Set some weeks after the end of Season 5, Emma and Killian deal with the events of Parts 1 and 2. (AO3 link)
Emma drags her finger across her e-reader, turning the page. It feels like eons since she’s taken the time to read anything, and like the height of indulgence to do so now. It may be “just a romance novel,” as Henry would say with a wrinkled nose, but it’s one Belle recommended to her a long time ago, and now that she’s into it, she can see why. It’s actually really good, and the sex is super hot.
The sound of a more traditional page turn reaches her ears, and she looks over at the man in bed beside her. Killian is bare-chested and propped against the headboard, a thick novel open on his lap. She takes a moment to admire the way his forearm flexes as he absently picks up the corner of the next page of his book. He seems totally unaware of her, engrossed in his reading, so she is surprised when he speaks to her without looking up. “I see your game, Swan.”
CS AU Week || Day 6; Another Time Period >> Roaring 20′s
Killian’s fellow sailors pushed him to go out time and time again, despite his protests, however, when he finally agrees he discovers more than just an underground speakeasy. For there, a hidden goddess lives amongst the different colored bottles, using the hole in the wall club as a means of her own escape- as an escape from her family. Killian is soon entranced by everything about her, from the way the beads on her dress make light clacking sounds to the way she looks with a wide smile on her face. He wants to know her; to know what drives her to spend her time amongst the inebriated rather than in the mansion she surely belongs in.
Every night from then on he visits and with everything in his power he tries to convince the lady to let him try his hand at courting, and with a humored grin and a slightly worn down posture- she agrees. He drags her wherever he can afford that week, which starts with simple walks along the bridge where he points out different vessels, to theaters where he’s paid and arm and a leg just to sit near her in the dark and observe another world.
Two months in and he can’t contain himself, he tells her he desires nothing else besides her hand for his love has grown past a simple courtship. Emma pulls him by his suspenders and whispers yes, smiling against his lips as he kisses her for the first time. The time comes when he has to go back out to sea, a routine mission which only requires a few weeks from his love, and when she shows up at the docks to send him off he wonders if he can survive that long without her. She kisses his cheek and tucks a piece of paper into his pocket before demanding he come home safely and prepared to keep his promise to marry her. He tries not to look at her as if she’s crazy, reminding her once again that there is nowhere in the world that could ever hold a candle to being with her.
As the ship pulls away from the dock he slips the paper from his pocket and his face is overtaken by a cheek-to-cheek grin. For in his hand he holds a photograph of Emma decked out in her favorite dress and pearls smiling softly as she looks into the distance. For weeks it’s what he holds onto, and he keeps it tucked into the breast pocket of his shirt so no matter how far he is, she’s always the closest thing to his heart.
Neverland
is always going to be one of my favorite arcs. It has just so many
great CS scenes. So I couldn’t resist to write a little something
about their time there. 🙂
Hopefully they got Henry tomorrow and could get off this godforsaken island. Pan’s games were getting on her nerves. Big time. And being so close to everyone 24/7 made her skin itch. She’d left the campfire with the excuse that she needed to find a place to relieve herself, but she just needed to get away. Just for a few minutes.
Of course her wish wasn’t granted. She went around a tree and there was the last person she wanted to be alone with. Being alone with him always ended in heartfelt conversations or a kiss that still made her tingle all over when she was thinking about it.
“Swan, you shouldn’t be alone out here,” he told her with an earnest expression on his face. No smirk, no raised eyebrow, no quip and goddammit but she actually missed the innuendo-slinging pirate. With him she could be brash and roll her eyes, but with this man sitting on a fallen tree in front of her … she didn’t really know how to handle him.
A/N: So I’m fully blaming @queen-mabs-revenge for starting everyone on this path, and this started as a reply to @dagypsygirl‘s ask (found here). Because Milah deserved better, and if we can’t fix canon, at least we bloody well can fix the way it ends. I hope this helps…
Rumplestiltskin grins at the group of heroes standing in his shop, his eyes wild, crazed almost, as he narrows his gaze toward Killian in particular. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, pirate,” he sneers, almost spitting the last word. Killian doesn’t move, his sword firmly grasped in his hand, his special concentration of dreamshade coating the end of it. The Dark One leans forward, closer, but his voice carries easily to everyone in the room. “I killed Milah,” he declares proudly, “not Hades. I tossed her into the River of Lost Souls. Now what are you going to do?”
Killian can’t breathe, can’t think, his grip on his weapon faltering as he tries to process what the Crocodile’s just admitted. He hears Snow White’s soft gasp of disbelief behind him, David’s whispered, “No,” Emma’s quiet, “Killian, don’t,” but it seems too far away to matter.
He killed her. Twice.
He can only stare as Rumple watches him, watches the storm of emotions he doesn’t even bother to hide – grief, anger, and the all-too familiar vengeance he’s come to know so well.
Killian lets out a roar and lunges forward quickly, his sword aimed at the enemy he’s chased for too long, who’s evaded him for too long, who’s managed to hurt too many of the people Killian loved. It’s familiar, so familiar, racing to drive a blade into the heart of the man who took his love. Revenge for Milah, he thinks as he rushes toward Rumple, about to –
summary: Emma, Roland, and Elsa own a struggling bakery called Happy Endings Bakery in Boston. Things get a little bit dicey when a food truck called The Jolly Roger parks immediately in front of their store. (so, basically, rival shop owners au with lots of banter)
Happy Endings Bakery has been Emma Swan’s child for much of her
adult life.
After finishing her business degree, she’d decided to open her
own shop in Boston with her close friends Roland Hood and Elsa Arendelle, both
of whom attended college with her.
My submission for CS AU Week: Day 2- Canon Divergence.
Emma succeeded in destroying the darkness in Camelot. Now back in Storybrooke, Killian surprises her with a house. How will she respond? (Canon Divergence for CS AU week
Her eyes are brimming with unshed tears, and there’s an unrelenting knot in her throat as she takes in the sight before her: Killian, his head ducked down in apprehension, standing in the middle of a very larger, very empty house, one that he apparently now owns. It’s all a little overwhelming, and a slightly bit confusing, but her heart is pounding wildly in her chest because of the enormity of it all.
“You bought a house.”
Emma knows she’s said this twice before after his announcement, and nothing but the sentence. She must sound like a broken record, but – holy cow – Killian bought a house. Captain Hook – dashing rapscallion, scourge of the seven seas, pirate captain, and lover of adventure – has purchased a home in the suburbs of her very small town that if more often than not cursed so that they can never leave. It makes her head spin, because he’s not the sort of guy who puts down roots like this. A house is a permanent sort of thing that ties you down, something that you can’t so easily sail away from and –
It was a sunny evening when she told him. One of those evening when the world turned gold as the light shone off each surface. It glinted off the windows of the quiet town, and it danced on the water. They walked down the shoreline her arms wrapped around his, their fingers linked together.
Emma had her shoes off, hanging from one hand, swaying with her steps. And they walked that line of firm wet sand, the rocky sand rubbing at her feet, a gentle burn soothed by the cool water each time the waves would reach up.
She slowed for a moment, her feet sinking a little into the sand as she stood still, finally done running. He turned to her when he felt her stop. His eyes flickering between hers as though they could see her hesitation written in them.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she said biting her lip, not sure how to get the words out. Words that had been threatening to burst out of her for days.
“Is everything all right, love?” he asked her just a hint of worry slipping into his voice.
“Yeah,” she smiled reaching up to put her hand against his cheek. “Everything’s fine.”
He held her gaze as he dropped a nod to her. That one he always gave her, the one that gave her permission and courage to unburden herself.
She squeezed his hand to anchor herself as the words left her in little more than a whisper, “Killian, I’m pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” he stared at her dumbfounded as though he had never heard the word before. She let out a small, nervous laugh as she watched him struggle, and the sound seemed to bring him from his thoughts. The shadow of fear that had flickered over his expression replaced by warm love as a smile stretched over his lips, that smile he saved for her. The one she loved more than all the others.
“You’re sure?” he asked and that eyebrow of his raised just a little.
She nodded and then his arms were around her lifting her and she buried her laugh in his neck as he spun her once around. And then he set her back on the soft sand, his forehead resting against hers. A small laugh escaped from him into the narrow space between them.
“We’ll have a little one?” he asked her in disbelief, something like joy in the tears caught in his eyes.
She smiled widely, her head bobbing as she nodded eagerly. “Yeah,” she breathed and then he was kissing her again. She wanted to stay in that moment forever, wrapped in sunshine, all their dreams coming true.
They waited a couple weeks to tell the others. And for that time it was their secret. It was in the glint in their eyes as they met across the table at family dinner. And it was in the quiet between them as they sat and read together in the afternoon sun. And it was something beautiful in those quiet moments, the intimate feel of him against her, a new connection as their eyes met, their breaths coming together. It was in his weight over her and her laugh breathed in his ear. It was a love she never thought was possible, and she was almost reluctant to share this happiness with everyone else. Because in that moment it was only them and the rest of the world fell away, for that moment it was only them and soon it never would be again.
Emma cracks an eye open, fumbling for her phone to stop its insistent buzzing. As she swipes it silent and starts to get up, a strong arm wraps around her, pulling her close.
“Stay,” Killian murmurs, his voice scratchy with sleep. The first light of dawn is coming in through the window of his room, and Emma briefly gives up her half-hearted attempt to leave his warm bed.
For the effervescent @captain–kitten, and her Pirate Emma and Prince Killian manip.
Ann is flawless. She has two Fendi purses and a silver Lexus. I hear her hair’s insured for
$10,000. I hear she does car commercials…in Japan.
Her favorite movie is The Empire Strikes Back. One time she met Colin O’Donoghue on a plane…and
he told her she was pretty.
One time she punched me in the face…it was awesome.
The Pursuit
“Have you ever killed anyone?”
He looked over at her, defiance blazing in his eyes. Emma traced the careless stubble dusting across his jaw and down his throat as he thrust his chin up without a word, the cords in his neck taut as he continued his silent stand-off. She sighed heavily, amused at his noncompliance. She’d had more difficult prisoners, of course, though none quite so rich.
Nor quite so handsome. Her crew had begged her to leave him be, that a royal headache would only thwart her plans, but in that moment when she’d held a stiletto to his throat and laughed at his sad threats, something about the way his eyes had shone with a fierce and desperate light had resonated deep within her. She wished to know what drove him, what could possibly be so important to a spoiled little princeling that he would risk his pretty face in pursuit of the most dangerous demon ever to slither across the realm.
So she’d taken him, plundered his shiny new sloop-of-war–so fresh the paint had yet to earn the salty weathering of a few good turns across the sea–and tossed him into her quarters, the key hanging on the chain she wore around her neck the only way in or out. None could visit her prisoner, none; she did not wish for any to feel sorry for the handsome and debonair man who was foolish enough to allow himself to be caught, did not want her crew to fall victim to this manchild, to this fine example of a life lived without strife or hardship. One who might offer a pirate their weight in gold in exchange for his freedom. Not that she doubted her crew’s loyalty, but she did not wish to tempt fate.
No, Captain Swan would be the one to visit him. Her heart was already hard; she’d never fall to the honeyed words and empty promises of a man. Never again.
It All Starts With a Dance 