Did a quick animation test before I start remaking the wings. Still gotta work a bit on the rig, but it’s mostly working the way I want it to. The wings are based on swan wings, so the final flight animation will be very different.
No textures made yet.

Based on @unrestedjade‘s fics based on Reborntale. (Jade writes some of the most amazing things I’ve ever read!)

CS FF: The Journey is Half the Fun

Summary:  Emma and Killian encounter many obstacles on their way to their honeymoon destination.

Rating: T

Note: I’m trying to take comfort in the fact that Captain Swan will live on in fanfiction.  As long as inspiration comes and interest remains, then I will continue to write.  We’ll never get to see their honeymoon, so I thought this would be fun to write.  Hope you enjoy it!  ~Steph

…The Journey is Half the Fun: Part 1/1…

Killian and Emma sat in the airport, awaiting their flight to Honolulu, Hawaii for their long awaited honeymoon.  

“Love,” Killian began, turning to his wife, “I don’t understand why you can’t just poof us to our destination.  It would be much safer than traveling in that flying tin can you call an airplane.”

Emma laughed.  Killian had never flown on an airplane before and didn’t trust that it could remain in the air without magic.

“I told you. I only use magic when it’s necessary.  Plus, flying is very safe.”

Killian took her hand in his and leaned in close to her, whispering in her ear. “Aye, but it is much slower.  Just imagine what we could be doing right now if we were already in Hawaii.”

Emma felt a shiver run down her spine at the lust in her husband’s voice.  He kissed below her ear and then her neck, eliciting a giggle.

“Killian, we’re in public,” she managed weakly.

“My point exactly,” he said, moving to her lips.  "We could be in the privacy of our own honeymoon suite right now.“

He was certainly persuasive and it was tempting not to waste anymore time after everything they had been through.  She allowed him one final kiss and then pulled away.  She lifted her hand to caress his cheek and met his eyes.

"I would like nothing more than to get you alone, but this is our chance to be a normal couple for once.  Just newlyweds on their way to their honeymoon.”  She paused and then smiled. “Plus, sometimes the journey is half the fun.  I’d say it was with our relationship, wouldn’t you?”

Killian cocked an eyebrow and shrugged. “Definitely only half, love.  I wouldn’t consider battling villains and being separated by curses and death all that fun.”

Emma laughed and placed her head on his shoulder, squeezing his hand in hers. “Maybe not. But it led us here, so I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Killian nodded and dropped a kiss onto her head. “Aye, me neither.”

After a few moments, Killian glanced at the flight screen before them.

“Swan, what was our flight number?”


They were flying to California and then Hawaii.

Killian gestured at the screen with his hook. “I know I’m new to this flying thing, but I am going to assume cancelled isn’t a good thing.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “What?”

She looked at the screen and saw that indeed their flight was now listed as cancelled.  Emma jumped up from her seat and went over to the attendant at the desk.  She returned a few minutes later.

“So bad weather in California of all places has forced our flight to be cancelled.  We can’t get on another one until tomorrow morning.”

Killian cocked a brow and grinned.  "You’re right, love. This is fun.“

Emma groaned. "I wish things could be easy just once.”

“You said you only use magic when necessary.  I’d say this qualifies.”

She sank back down into the chair beside him.

“I meant went battling villains and breaking curses, not dealing with cancelled flights.”

Killian sighed heavily. “Alright.  What now then?”

“They gave us a voucher for a stay in the hotel next door.  So I guess we just wait it out until morning.”

Killian waggled his eyebrows and smiled.  "Well, love, I do believe I can think of a way to pass the time.“

Emma laughed and kissed him.  "I knew you would.”

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nimadge  asked:

Hey, do you have any PotC fic recs (otp or ot3 :3)?

So glad you asked! :D

First of all, I must recommend Outlaws and Inlaws, starting with The Swan in Flight. If there’s a favourite post-At World’s End headcanon for me, especially one where there’s a kid involved, it’s this one. It kind of includes every PotC ship imaginable, but it’s mostly sparrabeth. And it’s so so gloriously good.

“Once upon a time, there was a Queen who was the beloved of the Ferryman, and who took a mortal man as her consort, a trickster who went to the land of the dead and back. A bard stood behind her throne, and the Lady of the Sea blessed her.”

Another favourite post-AWE headcanon is Name Game.

“James laughs.

You’ve been waiting for him since before you met him. Stop waiting. He always comes to you eventually.”

And a random assortment of faves:

Nine Pieces of Eight (gen)

Crossing Paths (jack/elizabeth)

ice and fire (james/elizabeth)

Infuriating Companions (jack/elizabeth + james)

And, if you’re interested, I have written some bits here and there as well. OT3 stuff (that doesn’t involve Will anyway) is lamentably scarce, so I suppose I’ll have to write my own. Wouldn’t recommend the older stuff, though, it’s dire. :p

“Louis,” Harry sighs, shaking his head. “No.”

He’s trying to look stubborn, frowning so hard that he resembles a frog, but Louis can see his lips twitch, the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners. He’s obviously charmed, even though he knows he shouldn’t be, and Louis, well. Louis is very good at charming him.

“Harry,” Louis mimics his sigh, pouting at him. “Why not?”

Harry’s lips break into a full blown grin momentarily, before he’s running his hand down his face, trying to school his expression into something more serious. He’s an open book, Harry is–with every thought etched into the lines of his face, the dimples on his cheeks.

“I don’t want to,” Harry says, and it sounds weak.

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It only took me a millenia to get this finished…DAYUM she’s finally done! Vivien the Umbra Witch! 

She’s not perfect, but I had to kick myself into gear and get this finished! 

Vivien is a Witch that was born in France to a Gypsy Mother. However her Mother left when she was very young, and thus she was raised by her Father, the Mortal Musician. She was taken away from her Father and into the Umbran Clan after exhibiting a powerful affinity for magic, and she has been studying ever since. 

She managed to survive the witch hunts by sealing herself on the top of a frigid mountain with only the lake and the snow to keep her company. When she returned, her focus became her Mother. Desperately searching to see if she was still alive–

And so the search continues. 



English and French:


1) Why such a face?// Pourquoi cette tête?

2)  Do you believe in the power of love?//Crois-tu au pouvoir de l'amour?

3)  Don’t be too hard on yourself.//Ne sois pas si dur envers toi-même.


1) I can be your Angel, or I can be a Witch!//Je peux être ton ange, ou ta sorcière!

2) You cannot escape your fate, my dear. That’s what the Umbra Teaches.//Tu ne peux échapper à ton destin, mon cher. C'est ce qu'enseigne l'Umbra.

Weapon Taunts:
Scared of a little love tap?
You must be a masochist.
The difference between you and I is a matter of class.
Grace, Precision, and Honor.
My voice will be the last thing you hear.
Let me whip you into shape!
That was quite the work out~

Platinum Verse: I have done well.

Pure Platinum Verse: All those years on that Mountain paid off.

Platinum Trophy: Sheer Elegance.

Pure Platinum Trophy: There shall be a Blue Moon tonight. 

Vivien Beast Within: Flight: Swan Within (Trumpeter)
 Travel (Land): Jack-Rabbit Within (Lepus Californicus)
 Travel (Sea): Butterfly Koi (Cyprinus Carpio)
 Perfect Dodge: Moth Within (Death’s Head:Lachesis genus)

Demon Pact: Madama Lachesis-The Thread of Fate

Existing Demon Summons:

Malphas, Hecatoncheir, Gomorrah


-Her theme is The Lady of The Lake/Queen of Avalon. 
-The Demon Script:
Awaken Now, Climax /During climax mode/
Vivien, of Umbra /Full Armor/
Child of the Moon /Watch/

Professor Jones (2/12)

Summary: Killian Jones is a Professor of Maritime History in the sleepy New England town of Storybrooke, Maine. He falls for his graduate student, Emma Swan, and their love has devastating consequences. (Modern day AU) Rated M

You can also read this and all my other stories on fanfic.net

chapter 1 / chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 /Chapter 8/ Chapter 9/ Chapter 10/ Chapter 11


The next few weeks flew by in a blur. Emma was busy with school and work at the museum and Killian’s schedule was full at the university. After spending the night with him she needed to stay away for a while. He had tried to call her and she ignored it, instead replying with a text telling him she was busy and would call him later, which she then did not. She knew she was being a coward but didn’t care. She had never felt like this before and it was terrifying. He was putting dangerous thoughts in her brain.

“You keep thinking that hard and smoke is going to come out of your ears,” Ruby’s voice pulled her out of her reverie.

Emma gave her a half smile and went back to eating her cheeseburger. Beverly’s Diner had been a staple in the community forever. Her first night in Storybrooke had been spent in one of the rooms Beverly rented. The red, plastic covered booths and the retro bar at the front evoked nostalgia in many a visitor. Beverly had introduced her to Ruby, her granddaughter, and the best cheeseburger she’d ever eaten. 

She dredged her French fries in some ketchup before replying to her friend. “I can’t avoid him forever Rubes, what the hell am I going to do,” she asked around a mouthful of fries. Nerves had her eating her emotions and that annoyed her.

“Why are you trying to avoid him? You said it was the best sex of your life. Not to mention the dozen daisies he had delivered to your door. If you don’t want him, move along girl, I will take him.”

A quick surge of jealousy enveloped her so fast she stopped mid chew. Ruby laughed and smiled a grin that said she knew exactly what nerve she’d hit. “Look Emma, I know you’re afraid -”

“I am NOT afraid, I –“ Emma interrupted.

“-But you can’t give up on something potentially amazing because you’re afraid he will leave you.” Ruby covered Emma’s hand with hers and squeezed to assuage the blow of her words. “I love you Emma, and I want to see you happy. Give it a chance. And if it doesn’t work out, then you’ll have had some fantastic sex,” she finished with a wink.

Emma knew Ruby was right, she was bothersome that way, but fleeing from potential heartache had saved her too many times to count. She knew that getting attached to people only led to grief. Ruby was an exception to the rule and Emma had come to count on her friendship. But people left. That’s a lesson she had learned at birth and no one had come along yet to prove her wrong. Her parents, her friends in the foster system, her first real love, Neal. She had fallen hard for that selfish bastard and he abandoned her to climb the corporate ladder in New York. After that, she swore that she wouldn’t let another person, especially a man, have that much of her heart. And the fact that she not only went willingly with Killian over the edge, she let him take the lead in bed. And God above, how she’d liked it. Get on your knees. Her cheeks burned at the memory. She took a gulp of her water and tried to push his hauntingly beautiful voice out of her head.

“There’s nothing to give a chance. It was sex, plain and simple.” Ruby knew Emma was lying but  loved her enough to let it go. For now.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

omg Utakata and Haku making delicate icebubble art pieces in the winter and Zabuza scoffs at them but he still sits and watches them put the pieces together and even volunteers kubikiribocho sometimes because that hole at the end is a pretty good bubble ring.

Zabuza wakes up alone, which is rather disappointing since he distinctly remembers going to sleep with a pretty jinchuuriki in his arms. He’d also thought they had moved past this kind of sneaking out, though there’s every chance that Utakata didn’t leave for the same reasons he used to.

With a faint sigh, Zabuza rolls over and slides out of bed, reaching for  Kubikiribōchō before his feet are even fully on the floor. Only when it’s close at hand does he take a moment to pull on pants and a shirt, in deference to the winter’s bite and Haku’s inevitable scolding. Utakata’s thickest robe is gone, as is his haori, and Zabuza frowns at the empty hooks for a moment. Did he go out? There’s no cause for them to make the trek into the village today, and they both agreed to take a day off from training to rest. 

Then he hears the sound of laughter echoing from the yard. 

A little surprised, Zabuza pauses for a moment, just listening. Haku’s soft laughter is foremost, but beneath it, warm and full, is Utakata’s, and Zabuza can count on one hand the number of times he’s heard it in the last year. Something curls in his chest, sharp and tight, but he shoulders his sword and ignores it, following the sound to the back door and out onto the porch. 

The world is white and softened around the edges, covered in several inches of fresh, soft snow, just as Utakata had predicted. Zabuza stops on the edge of the steps, bare feet a few centimeters from where the white covering starts, and just for a moment he has to smile. 

Utakata and Haku are out in the middle of the yard, chakra curling around them. Pipe in hand, Utakata is blowing bubbles and guiding them down into an intricate sculpture, where Haku’s cold wraps around and freezes it in place, a perfect orb of translucent ice. The figure taking shape looks like a swan on the verge of flight, wings outspread, and Zabuza can see more scattered around the house like sentries. A dragon, an octopus, a leaping dolphin, a tiger mid-leap, a delicate tree hung with ornaments, all made of chakra-infused ice and shining like diamond in the dawn’s light. 

As he watches, the last bubble settles carefully at the edge of an outstretched wing, and Haku carefully, intently locks it into place, then steps back with a bright smile. “What next?” he asks enthusiastically.

Utakata smiles back at him, and Zabuza is struck in the chest like a physical blow with the realization - yet again - of just how pretty his husband is. The Sandaime was rather plain, but his son - 

His son is one of the most fucking beautiful people Zabuza has ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on, and he belongs to Zabuza

Pretty things don’t last in Zabuza’s hands. They break or scar or are damaged beyond repair, and he’s left clutching a worthless shell of something that used to be precious. He’d worried, at first, that this would be the same way. But Utakata is a jinchuuriki, and there’s nothing in the entire world that could so much as scratch him without a hell of a lot of effort. 

Maybe this will be something Zabuza can finally keep. 

Heedless of the icy-hot bite of the snow, Zabuza steps off the porch, setting  Kubikiribōchō aside. “Someone’s been busy,” he says, rough but amused, and watches both Utakata and Haku jump. 

“Zabuza,” Utakata says easily enough as the younger man turns to face him, though there’s a faint flush rising in his cheeks that isn’t entirely due to the cold. “Where are your shoes?”

Zabuza just chuckles, and takes three long steps forward to lean down, hook his arms around the backs of Utakata’s thighs, and lift him right off his feet. Utakata yelps, grabbing onto his shoulders as Zabuza hoists him up, and he’s laughing again, bright in the chilly air. Haku is smiling at them, tolerant and fond, and when Zabuza catches his eye he turns away pointedly. 

“What’s this about?” Utakata asks amusedly, drawing his gaze back to his husband, and Zabuza gives him a sharp-edged grin.

“You didn’t wake me up,” he accuses, trying for testy even though he knows his tone falls short. 

Utakata blinks down at him, somehow graceful and elegant even in a position that would be undignified for anyone else. His dark hair is falling into his face, into the golden-brown eyes that first caught Zabuza’s attention, and Zabuza shifts his grip so he’s holding him with one arm, reaching up to brush the strands out of Utakata’s face with his free hand. Utakata smiles a little, catching his hand and twining their fingers together like he can read every last one of Zabuza’s doubts in his eyes. 

“Sorry,” he says warmly, and he’s still smiling even when he leans down to press a gentle kiss to Zabuza’s lips, his mouth cool and chapped and tasting ever so faintly of green tea. Zabuza kisses him back, because he’d hardly do anything else, and slides his hand back down to squeeze Utakata’s ass. It gets him a quiet sound of amusement, and Utakata pulls back. 

“Are we going to finish, or should I just go back inside?” Haku asks, polite but pointed, and Zabuza huffs. He catches Utakata’s eye, gets a brief flash of silent laughter, and reaches out to snag his apprentice by the collar of his robe. A jerk, a heave, a startled squeal, and Zabuza tucks Haku under his free arm as he heads back towards the house. 

“Come on, someone needs to cook for me,” he huffs, and cheerfully ignores the quiet sounds of indignation from two fronts. “What were you two doing out here anyway? ‘S barely even dawn.”

“Master Harusame taught me a handful of new seals,” Utakata says, helpfully leaning back in a careful arch to open the door, one hand still braced on Zabuza’s shoulder. “I think we might be able to animate the statues, with enough chakra.”

Yagura will throw a fit, Zabuza is sure. Walking ice sculptures roaming around the village, just when the civilians have gotten over the fact that Haku summoned a snowstorm when he got upset? Yeah, Zabuza’s probably not getting a birthday present from the Mizukage this year. 

But he can hear Haku giggling a little, and he can see Utakata’s smile, small and pleased and directed right at him, and with a laugh Zabuza boots the door open and hauls his two ridiculous burdens inside. 

“Coffee first,” is his only stipulation, and Utakata chuckles and kisses him again. Haku makes an aggrieved, longsuffering noise of protest, but Zabuza just dumps him on the couch with a huff of, “Brat.”

“And what would you call me, then?” Utakata asks, arching a brow at him. 

Zabuza grins right back, all teeth. Utakata’s cheeks flush faintly, and he quickly leans down again to make sure Zabuza’s mouth is occupied with things other than answering. There’s only half a second before their lips connect, but Zabuza just manages to get out, “Mine.”

Utakata very noticeably fails to protest at all.