#killian whump

[laianely]

Just quick mischief

Tag people who may be interested: @killianxswan @teamhook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @caught-in-the-filter @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd

#killian jones #captain hook #killian whump #once upon a time #ouat #once upon a time edit #ouat edit #laianely's edits

[happy-emmdings]

Blood/ MCR • Killian Jones, a suffering pirate

this song is actually about him<3

(I recommend sound on from the very beginning)

#iiiiim theee kinda🎶 human🎶 wreckage🎶 thatya love😉✨ #whump #killian whump #killian jones #ouat edit #once upon a time #tw torture #tw stabbing #violence #flashing lights #nya edits

[snowbellewells]

Belated Birthday Fic for @jrob64

Joni (@jrob64) this is long overdue now, and probably not worth the waiting you've done for it, but I still wanted to give you the story I wrote for your birthday. It takes place in Season 2, after Emma leaves Hook on the beanstalk, but diverges in that Hook carches up with the Savior and the rest of the Princess squad again without Cora. There's some mentioned whump and I hope plenty of hurt/comfort (since you and I both enjoy that so! ;) And I hope you'll still like it, even though it's now well past your birthday. I am so glad we are friends and that this OTP and fandom lead us to meet and get to know each other!

“Consequences”

by: @snowbellewells

The logs and twigs they’d gathered for their campfire were crackling mightily, releasing occasional pops when sap ignited, but giving off the light and heat their weary and mismatched group needed as they wordlessly gathered on a fallen stump and large rock nearby. None of the women spoke. Exhausted and worried, and still not fully trusting of each other, they merely watched as Mary Margaret spun the rabbit she’d brought back for supper on the spit they had rigged up over the fire and listened as Mulan finished assembling the tent they’d soon crawl into once they had eaten at last.

This wilderness was about the furthest thing from an “Enchanted” Forest that Emma could have conjured in her naive 21st century mind, but she was simply too drained to point out the irony to either her mother - she wasn’t even ready to apply that term to her friend and roommate yet - or honest-to-goodness freaking Sleeping Beauty. And it didn’t help that she kept hearing Hook’s voice echoing in her ears, the hurt and shocked betrayal in his tone - and in those dangerously expressive eyes - as he’d pled with her, ‘Have I told you a lie? Why do this to me now?’ She had the sinking feeling that no matter how tired her body might be, when she lay her head down tonight, she wouldn’t be able to sleep for seeing his face as it had looked when she had turned away on the back of her eyelids, and her guilt at leaving him chained atop the beanstalk gnawing at her insides.

Shaking her head clear, Emma reminded herself once again that Hook had been in league with Cora; they had no proof but his word, her gut feeling, and her superpower no one else believed, that he wasn’t still working for the witch against them. She’d done the right thing, Emma savagely scolded her yammering conscience. Nothing was worth the risk of not getting back to Henry - or even worse, seeing Regina’s evil mother find her way to where Henry was. Certainly not a piercing-eyed pirate who seemed to see right through her and make her squirm doing it.

With a nod and murmur of thanks, she took the portion of roasted meat offered to her on a makeshift skewer and nibbled at it gingerly. It might just be that she was famished and too tired to be picky, but it tasted better than expected. Emma was swallowing her second bite, when noise caught her attention from the nearby treeline. She jerked upright, immediately on guard; her state of near-slumber shattered and all her nerves jangling with alarm. Her eyes met Mary Margaret’s as her mother reached for her bow and Emma stood with fists clenched, ready to defend them however she could, whether her gun was any use out here or not. Mulan had abandoned the tent at the sound as well, smoothly drawing her sword and facing the trees in front of them like a deadly sentinel.

The noise of heavy footsteps smashing through the underbrush grew nearer and louder; branches snapped, heavy, gasping breaths were heard, and Emma could only square her shoulders and wait for whatever new foe was coming forth to show itself.

What she wasn’t expecting - and what tore a harsh gasp from her throat on sight - was for Hook to stumble dazedly out of the woods toward them, momentarily leaning against a tree trunk to steady himself, his face obviously bloody and his clothing torn. He took a couple more weaving steps toward them before the toe of his boot caught a root that sent him sprawling face down in the dirt at their feet. And he didn’t get up. Didn’t move or speak. Emma was rushing forward in spite of herself before she could think better of it. Her mother called for her to be careful, and Mulan’s stern face cautioned it could be a ploy, but she paid neither of them much heed.

He still hadn’t moved, and he looked even worse close up. He’d been hurt. Badly. Surely Anton wouldn’t have…  This wasn’t what she had wanted. Was this her fault?

Crouching, Emma tried to shake Hook gently, to stir him back into wakefulness. A groan escaped him breathily, which shouldn’t have relieved her nearly as much as it did. There was nothing for it but to roll him over onto his back. At least then she could see his face and assess the damage.

But when she did, her breath caught a second time, choking up somewhere between her throat and her lungs. She couldn’t imagine there had been many times in the life of Captain Killian Jones when this could be said of him, but he looked terrible. His lower lip was busted, with rusty remnants of dried blood staining where they had trailed down his chin. One eye was swollen nearly shut, and the other was bleary to the point that she wondered how he had made his way to them through the dark. A large gash that had barely closed showed beneath the disheveled dark fringe on his forehead. Dark, purpled bruises and nasty scrapes mottled the skin of his face, neck and collar nearly everywhere she could see. Though she would have never admitted it aloud, Hook’s usually flawless countenance was horribly altered by whatever had happened to him. The shadows darkening his usual mischievious sparkle and daring turned her stomach in a way she couldn't begin to explain.

He struggled to raise his head slightly and blinked up at her as best he could through the usable slit of his eye. “Ah Swan, caught up to you, didn’t I?” he jested brokenly, somehow still teasing her through what must be immense pain.

Tilting her head to study him, Emma struggled to look unamused while inexplicably aching to place a hand to his forehead, brush back the matted hair there, and offer some modicum of comfort. Her fingers moved almost of their own accord, hovering just barely over his cheek before hesitating and pulling back, tingling at their proximity even as she resisted making contact. There didn’t appear to be a single place on him that wasn’t battered and wouldn’t cause him more pain if she tried to touch.

As if reading her concern, Hook shifted restlessly, attempting to lever himself upright and then falling back with a wince and guttural moan of protest. She also noticed for the first time how tightly he kept his hook arm pressed to his side, not sure if the injury was to the arm itself or if he were shielding his stomach or ribs, but it ratcheted her worry for him that much higher. Not certain what to do for him, or what to say, her usual half-annoyed bantering retorts fled her the longer she witnessed his vulnerability. Emma finally settled on simply answering his question, and asking one of her own. “It would appear you’ve caught me,” she acknowledged, then added softer, “But why?”

Huffing out a weary breath, Killian didn’t look at her as he barely shook his head, the motion seeming to express that he didn’t quite know himself. “I guess because, double cross and all, Lass, you lot are the safest choice for company of my rather limited options.”

Emma flushed with embarrassment at his casual mention of what she’d done. Her cheeks burned, knowing the man who lay before her could surely see how she’d colored at the reminder and could only hope that his current state made him less sharply observant than usual. That she hadn’t trusted him or the brief alliance they’d made shamed her, and then made her angry for feeling ashamed. She’d been burned before, and had learned to be more wary. That she had wanted to believe him, and had silently agreed when he’d called them quite a team, had only made her more anxious to leave him behind, to flee before he turned on her and she was left in the dust herself. Pushing the conflicting emotions aside, she tried another tack instead. “But what happene to you? How did…? Surely Anton didn’t…?”  She was tripping over her words now, flustered and chiding herself as she shook her head in frustration.

Biting her tongue until she could regain control, her eyes flew to her hand when Killian used his to clasp it and gain her attention. Though his fingers were trembling with the effort, he held on and answered her slowly. “No, that wasn’t the work of your giant admirer. Your new friend released me once the time you requested of him had passed. Bloody gargantuan numbskull threatened me to leave you in peace, but he didn’t do this damage.”

Emma exhaled air she’d hardly realized she was holding. It didn’t make things right between them, but she was grateful that she hadn’t misjudged Anton’s nature and directly caused the torture Hook had clearly undergone. “But then, who?” she whispered, finally daring to squeeze the hand that held hers in return, while at last reaching out and smoothing a light caress over his brow.

He flinched slightly at the initial contact, but then his eyes fell closed momentarily with a sigh of relief. Emma had to know, though the only other option she could think of had dread settling in her belly like stone. “Who did this to you?” she choked.

“Why Cora, of course,” he intoned, trying to appear either flippant or matter of fact and failing with the shadows that passed over his expression. “Not honestly sure why she didn’t finish the job, unless she thought she had and this old body is just too stubborn to give up the ghost.” He drew in a ragged breath before adding, “At any rate, after letting me know that she would leave me here, unable to ever gain my vengeance on Rumplestiltskin, she made certain she had demonstrated the consequences of choosing to align myself against her.”

By this point, his breathing had grown shallow and labored once more with the effort of speaking. Shushing him with a plea to rest, Emma was eager to check with the others about anything they might be able to do for his injuries. He certainly didn’t need her to keep him talking as she was. Pressing trembling lips together, Emma dashed away the single drop of moisture that had escaped her eye and laid his hand tenderly back on his chest. “Well, thankfully, Cora counted her win a bit too soon. Let’s see if we can help you live to fight another day.”

His unfairly long lashes fluttered, and a small, soft chuckle broke from his cracked lips, but Killian seemd to be rapidly giving up the fight to remain lucid. Emma wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad while they tried to tend to his wounds, but she had to do something. She wasn’t going to desert him again.

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

When his eyes fluttered open some time later, Killian Jones found himself dazed and dizzy, then almost nauseous, with his throat parched and dry. Panic followed almost immediately as he struggled to gain his bearings and found himself weak as a newborn kitten, floundering even to sit up unaided. He could not have said whether it had been minutes, hours, or days since he was last aware of his surroundings, but just as he was not sure how much time had passed, he was also vaguely uncertain of where he was and whether or not he was alone - an even more disturbing condition.

His mind was reeling as he attempted to move, scrabbling around over the dry, dusty ground with his good hand in a frantic search for his cutlass. Surely he must have left it within reach. He had learned long ago, even as the captain of a mostly loyal pirate crew, that enemies were varied and numerous, and that he must never let his guard down without a weapon close at hand. He had a jagged, long-healed gash running under his ribs, which Smee had tried his best - if rather crookedly - to sew closed, but which had taught him that lesson all too well.

With a frenzied sound of frustration in his throat, Killian kept fighting to sit upright, ready to defend himself against some unknown foe, only to have hands grip his upper arms tightly, pressing him back and forcing him to remain on the ground. “Unhand me, you blackguard!” he growled, only to have his vision finally regain focus and the fight abruptly drain from his limbs when he found himself staring up at Emma Swan hovering over him, her touch the one keeping him in place.

“Easy there, Hook,” she chided, loosening her grip as he stilled and grew calmer upon seeing he was not under immediate attack. “You’ve got to settle down, or you’ll hurt yourself even more. We tried to stitch the deepest of your cuts and bandage you up. Don’t undo it all!”

She was fussing over him, Killian realized belatedly, his hazy and addled mind slowly filling in the blanks he had missed. She might be scolding and grumbling as she did so, but she was still frightened for his well-being and more concerned for his comfort than he would have dared imagine possible.

He had known there was a frisson of energy that flowed between them when he’d taken her hand in the giant’s lair, cleansing and caring for the cut on her palm despite her stubbornly self-effacing protests. And he really hadn’t thought he was imagining the way she’d held her breath and her pupils had dilated when he’d eyed her daringly while tying off the bandage with his teeth. Still, he’d been hesitant to place too much fatih in what he was reading from her either. Emma Swan was overly guarded and used to being on her own. Someone had obviously hurt her deeply enough to make her push everyone else away in response. Not only that, but she was an actual royal - the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, no less - and the fabled Savior besides. Her light was much too pure and bright to be aligned with his dark and tarnished pirate soul set on vengeance.

All the same, he had cursed himself as seven times a fool when his heart plummeted at her turning and running from him on the beanstalk. He had held out a little hope for them, in spite of his better judgement, or he would not have been so hurt by the betrayal. She was as full of shining enticement, from her flowing golden hair to her sparkling jade eyes, as any buried treasure. He couldn’t help wanting to stay by her side.

As Emma slowly moved to support him, helping him ease into a sitting position while bracing him against her own hip and shoulder, she offered him a water skin and held it up so he could take a much-needed cool drink of water. Killian was stunned to realize that maybe winning her over wasn’t as lost a cause as he had thought. Perhaps Emma Swan already cared more than she wanted to allow herself, and against her own good sense - much as he had found himself doing.

Several quiet moments passed before Killian fully registered that all was still and motionless around them. It was full dark now; the middle of the night, or perhaps early morning, if his view of the moon was accurate, yet he could hear no movements or voice’s from Emma’s royal, bandit, or warrior companions. The fire next to them was dimmed to near embers, and it seemed for the moment as if he and Emma were the only two people under the brilliant array of stars overhead.

Now that he had his bearings and his thirst was slaked, he ventured a glance beyond his lovely blonde Savior’s beguiling face, at least far enough to see that a rough tent had been staked and three bed rolls were occupied beneath its temporary shelter, explaining their privacy, but raising even more questions. Why were the rest of them willing to lower their guard enough to sleep with a virtual stranger and former enemy in their camp? It had been hard to miss the warning and distrust in the Lady Snow’s eyes, at any rate - probably largely protectiveness for her daughter, but still, why grant him this sort of uninterrupted interlude with Emma then? He was clearly in poor shape; maybe they had reckoned he couldn’t do anything to harm them, or charm Emma too thoroughly, as injured as he was.

Killian was abruptly startled from his wandering thoughts when he once more felt the cool, soothing touch of Emma’s fingertips trailing up the side of his face and into his hair. She raked the dark strands back from his fevered skin, calming even the pounding that pained him from the magical beating he’d endured and the rough impact his head had suffered when Cora finally dropped his battered body to the hard ground and left him for dead.

The Enchanted Forest’s lost princess spoke so quietly he had to strain to hear her when she addressed him again, her eyes studiously avoiding his to observe her fingers carding through the mussed, blood-caked strands of his hair. “I’m sorry… truly, I am. It was wrong of me to leave you behind the way I did, and… I should have trusted you. You may be a pirate, and awfully full of yourself, and way too flirty for your own good…” 

At that, Killian attempted to waggle an eyebrow and smirk salaciously to make her smile, only for a cringe to escape him at the motion of his brow and lip.

She noticed, of course, and rather than admonishing that it served him right, as she would have usually done, Emma hissed in sympathy and hushed him with a gentle hum in the back of her throat. “See, this shouldn’t have happened to you, Ho - Killian.” Her switch from his moniker to his real name struck him right in the center of the chest, with as much emphasis as a physical blow. He couldn’t decide if her concern, guilt, and contrition more warmed his heart or troubled him - not wanting to win her over out of mere pity. “That witch only caught up to you, found you empty-handed, because of what I did. This is my fault… b-but… I never wanted you to be hurt like this. I only wanted a head start, to get back to my son.”

If he hadn’t been shocked to his core already, the depth of emotion in Swan’s voice as she made her confession would have been enough to bowl him over. It sounded as though she might be on the verge of tears on his behalf, and Killian could hardly fathom it. Drawing a ragged breath of his own, he wet his cracked lips and managed a sincere response to her heartfelt openness. 

“Darling,” and here he couldn’t help a bit of a rogueish grin at her, despite how it pulled on the broken skin of his lip again. 

She shook her head, but didn’t scoff or interrupt, not this time, and heartened, he continued in all sincerity. “I’m not going to lie to you. I was angry when you shackled me there and left me behind. I’d been on the level with you, was doing my best to help you, and for the first the time in a long time, I felt like I connected with someone genuinely. But I also understand that your boy is your first priority. You cannot let anything else matter as much - or even possibly risk his safety.”

His battered knuckles were beginning to swell, and his fingers ached as he moved them, but Killian still managed to return the clutch of Emma’s own hand and intertwine their fingers with a sigh of rightness and relief. Glancing back up to search her gaze once more, he added, “I understand what being separated from one’s child might do to a person… more than you might think, in fact. I respect you all the more for your urgency and desire to return to him as soon as possible.”

He could see Emma wondering what his words might mean; the gears turning in her sharp mind were obvious, even if she only pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes slightly, watching him a few moments longer. Thankfully, she didn’t press the matter further, but instead released what seemed a lungful of air she must have been holding worriedly and gave him a hopeful smile. “So… you forgive me, then?”

The barest dip of his chin was as far as he dared move his aching head, but Killian assured her without hesitation, “Aye, Emma, I do,” in as strong and certain a voice as he could muster. 

By then, the faintest tendrils of light were beginning to break through the deep indigo sky and soft hints of scuffling and waking from their fellow travelers hinted that they would not be alone much longer.

Though he still hurt all over as if he had been scorched by a dragon’s breath and then crushed by an ogre’s tread, Killian couldn’t help but feel as if his situation had drastically changed. Even more so when Emma Swan’s eyes grew warmer yet; her aspect beaming crookedly at him like sunlight slowly emerging from a bank of clouds. Just before they were joined by Snow White bearing coffee for his Savior, Emma winked at him conspiratorially and leaned forward to murmur. “I’m glad, Pirate. After all, we make quite the team, remember?”

Tagging a few others who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @apiratewhopines @sotangledupinit @stahlop @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @killian-whump @artistic-writer @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @kazoosandfannypacks @justanother-unluckysoul @wefoundloveunderthelight @motherkatereloyshipper @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @jonesfandomfanatic @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @drowned-dreamer @xarandomdreamx @caught-in-the-filter

#belated bday fic #gift for @jrob64 #cs one shot #ouat s2 canon divergent ff #consequences #killian whump #hurt comfort

[hooked-on-swanics]

Chapter 2 of my Underworld/5b rewrite is up! If you like whump, if you like angst, if you like feels, this is for you.

I hope it hits you in the heart <3

#ouat #killian jones #captain swan #emma swan #once upon a time #ouat fanfiction #captain hook #ouat s5 #underworld fanfic #fanfic #whump #killian whump #angst #feels #some fluff

[beatenbruisedandbloody]

Jaw clenching collection 1

#whump #jaw clenching #dean winchester #dean winchester whump #killian whump #outer banks whump

[piracytheorist]

How are you so awesome?

What's your favorite thing about Killian-Whump?

What is your favorite thing about Killian whump?

Hello, totally anonymous anon who most definitely isn't killian-whump!

I'm awesome because I brush my teeth and recycle. Brush your Teeth™ and Recycle™ and you too can be awesome today!

My favourite thing about killian-whump is the friend ❤️ it's how she's been there in more moments than I can count, both good and bad, how her own confidence helped me learn and accept things about myself (like seriously sometimes you think about the impact a single person has had in your life and you're like... Fuck who would I be if I'd never met them) and not just because she was confident about it but because she was so open and kind about it when I was still in the wondering stages, and how knowing she's out there and people enjoy her presence every day is something that makes me smile!

My favourite thing about Killian whump is, probably, how Colin commits to the bit. Yes he will whimper helplessly, and yes he will make desperate movements to show his character trying to cling onto something for comfort, and yes he will perform Oscar-worthy acting while wearing a ton of prosthetic makeup and having fake blood painted all over his face and costume and yes he will enjoy the hell out of it, and he will look sexy doing it. I am so happy it was through this character that I realized my love for whump.

Thank you for sending in, totally anonymous anon! 💕💕

#nette speaks #ask and ye shall receive #killian whump

[priscilla9993]

I'm sorry; I have no self-control 😂

I blame Colin, because blaming him for things is fun 😂

It's totally all of sweet Colin's doing! He just sparks goofball energy, even when he's not present.

#all jokes aside #I miss colin #killian whump #thanks for the ask! #ask and it is given

[temptressofyourdarkestdesire]

Chapters: 2/6 Previous/Next Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan Characters: Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Emma Swan, Evil Queen | Regina Mills, OC - Character Additional Tags: Whump, Blood, Knives, Poison, Magic, Angst, Pain, Killian Whump, No Sex, No Smut, just whump with a little bit of story, Choking, ropes

Summary: A former adversary of Hook opens up some old wounds.

Chapter II - The Order of Scarlett

It was early in the morning, well too early for Emma Swan to be bursting into her office.

“What do you know about the Order of Scarlett?,” Emma asked without a word of greeting.

“Good morning to you too Swan,” Regina said a little bit exasperated.

“You want to know about Scarlett’s harlots?,” she said with a grin. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Obviously don’t call them that, they don’t like it. Scarlett was a powerful witch who had dedicated her life to healing magic and potion making. The members of the Order of Scarlett are her disciples. Why...”

“So they’re... good?,” Emma interrupted. She was still standing and seemed quite agitated and now confused.

“If you mean healing everyone they can get their hands on, they’re good, yes. But they are equally capable of hurting people and as far as I know quite creative. And very few of the people who tried to get their hands on their potions or the recipes survived.” Emma seemed even more puzzled.

“In short, they’re great healers, they kill spies and thieves and they like to torture. But usually they torture only their subjects who live with them willingly. They’re very stubborn with that. They don’t just torture anyone, so they’re pretty useless.” She threw her hands up. She actually had tried to hire one of them as a torturer in her days as Evil Queen, but the hags wouldn’t for the life of them work for her. But that was information Swan didn’t need to know.

“You’re saying they’re sadists with healing powers who keep masochists?”, Emma asked incredulously.

“Well, one could phrase it like that, I think. Of course, if one were a very unlucky spy or thief, they could decide to torture them before killing them. But you don’t have to worry Swan, you’re most likely not their type.”

“And what does that mean now?,” Emma asked impatiently. Regina shrugged her shoulders.

“It just means that they’re usually into men. Why are you asking about them anyway?” Emma ignored that question.

“Where can I find them?” Regina rolled her eyes. Apparently she was here to answer questions today, not getting them answered.

“I don’t know, but I know someone who might.”

“Who?” Regina just flicked her hand and conjured a phonebook, which she slapped on the desk in front of her.

“Yellow Pages.”

#once upon a time #killian jones #once upon a time fic #whump #killian jones whump #killian whump #fic #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #whump fic

[aceofwhump]

Whumptober 2023

Day 31: Alternate - Broken

Once Upon A Time 2x12

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

#whumptober2023 #no.31 #alternate #broken #once upon a time #gifs #killian jones #captain hook #broken bones #broken ribs #pain #hit by a car #hospital #choked #blood #cuts #my gifs #mod post #whumpedit #whump #wincing

[k-leemac]

“How do you know she's here?”

“She got me a message.”

“How do you know that wasn't one of Hades' tricks?”

#this was another moment before the actual test that confirmed it's true love #you can't tell me otherwise #BIG GIFS #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #csedit #cs graphic #hookedit #emmaswanedit #ouatedit #bloodied killian though 😩🥵 #tw: whump #userstorybrooke #userharumi #jemmablossom #dailytvfilmgifs #ouat #*

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: “Take Me Home to Your Arms”

(For this week’s Self Promo Sunday, here’s a little piece I wrote back during the hiatus between 5a and 5b. Certainly, like many of us at the time, I was wondering what might be happening to Killian in the Underworld and how Emma and the rest were going to get him back. This little Underworld spec fic was one of my attempts to answer those questions. It’s obviously canon-divergent now, and I apologize in advance for the Killian trauma. It's not that I want to hurt him, but this was the image of the Underworld and its suffering which first took root in my head, even if it didn’t go that way, and I truly wanted to see Emma come to his rescue, just as he has decided to go after her and fight for her so many times, whatever the risk to himself and his own safety.)

(The title and opening lyrics are from the song "Take Me Home" by US.)

**Can also be found on AO3 and ff.net

By: @snowbellewells

"I'm only happy when I'm with you, home for me is where you are…

I won't be happy 'til I'm with you, home for me is where you are,

These four walls mean nothing without you, home for me is where you are,

They tell me that I'll make it, it'll only be a while, but a while lasts forever without you;

Send out the alarms, I'm all alone,

Wrap me in your arms and take me home…"

Her footsteps fell quickly on the pavement, frantic in the dark. Emma Swan couldn't sleep, couldn't rest, couldn't stop. She could not wait any longer, and she wasn't sure why she had hesitated as long as she did, how she hadn't realized she could get to her pirate and find him sooner; the desperation now so intense it nearly possessed her.

Surprisingly, Regina of all people was the one only two steps behind her, anxious to find "Captain Guyliner". For all of the ways the queen and the pirate argued, needled, and harassed each other to the point of distraction, clearly – despite her derision of Hook and talk of his faults – the regal had missed her favorite "nemesis" and sparring partner more than she would ever admit aloud. That Regina took Emma's part when the others questioned the possibility of her plan, that Regina spoke up of her own accord and agreed it could work, meant the world to Emma. It had set them all in motion and brought them to the edge of the lake. It was only a matter of time before she made her way to Killian's side again.

Though Gold had gotten them to the Underworld easily enough, he had also predictably vanished on some venture of his own almost immediately after their arrival. Snow and Charming had gone to search by the water and in the forest, and Robin had seemed the most capable and likely person to send with them. Emma wanted to think they would all be fine, that splitting up would only allow them to cover that much more ground and find Killian sooner, but she couldn't help worrying for them as well as her sailor, when she couldn't see or know what they might run into. Forcing herself to re-focus,her mind whispered, 'Killian, where are you? Come back to me…'

Without her even being aware until they blurred her vision of the streets, silent tears were coursing down her face. The streets before them were so similar to the Storybrooke routes grown familiar, only darker and shrouded in eerie smoke. She would not allow it to slow her, and she pressed on blindly, unsure where to look as her eyes swept from side to side, certain that Killian must be close by. Once she saw him, Emma ached to fall on her knees at his side and beg his forgiveness, express her endless remorse for all the ways she had gotten it wrong in trying to save him, and he had paid the price. In horrific detail, she kept seeing the light fade from his blue, blue eyes, hearing his ragged plea to grant his wishes this time, his anguished cry and the wet, sucking sound as the blade slid home in his body. Her torment repeated, picturing what he might be going through in the domain of Hades. Was he still in pain? Was he being punished, taunted, tortured beyond the injuries she herself had inflicted? Even once she reached him, would she ever be able to make things right?

Emma might well have kept running aimlessly forever – not willing to give up or rest – but the fog thickened further, obscuring the twisted versions of Gold's pawn shop, Marco's woodworking studio, Maurice French's delivery van at the curb, and Granny's diner, to the point that she could barely make out any of the landmarks or see to take a step in front of her. Hesitating, breath coming out in frantic pants and eyes darting wildly, she nearly panicked, staring in one direction and then another helplessly.

It was then, when despair began to creep in and take her over, that a warm, comforting hand slipped into hers, squeezing firmly. "Mom!" Henry's ever-deepening voice called her back, cutting through her whirling thoughts and clearing her mind. "Calm down. You have to use your magic. It's powered by love. Focus on Killian, on how much you need to find him, and we'll get there…I know it."

Blinking away the tears which had barely let up their entire time in this twisted mockery of their hometown, Emma managed to give her brave, amazing son a tremulous smile. Nodding in affirmation, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and tried to focus on Henry's encouragement. She finally believed that Killian was her True Love. She planned to attempt splitting her heart to share with him; her magic should lead them to her pirate. She needed to calm down and allow it to work. It only took her other True Love buoying her up to remind her. This had to work…and it would!

Henry didn't let go of her hand, but stood right next to her offering his strength and belief, ready to venture forward at her side. Emma closed her eyes, raised her other hand slightly, and sent out tendrils of her magic, seeking, searching for Killian.

"You can do it, Mom," Henry urged, rooting her on. "I want him back too. He can't be far!"

Maybe it was Henry's faith, or maybe Regina had found a way to get her magic, which had been shorting out since they'd entered the realm of the dead, working again; whatever it was, the way ahead grew more visible as they pushed forward quietly. An even more complete and odder hush than they had been keeping fell over their small trio as through the smoke and fog the clock tower and library abruptly appeared before them. A chill of foreboding ran up Emma's spine, and she clutched Henry's hand in hers more tightly. She couldn't explain how she knew it, but this was where they needed to be. Kilian was nearby. Her own magic felt as though it were reaching out and trying to find him, as she'd hoped, or that the connection she knew was between them was asserting itself at last. It didn't matter that this sinister version of the clock tower looked like the last place she wanted to enter, if Killian Jones was in there, then that was exactly where she would go.

Nodding toward the building which towered over them, Emma only said with a grim determination, "He's in there."

Henry looked over at her, no longer having to tilt his chin up, almost as tall as his mom, and merely met her eyes with a nod before replying, "Then let's go get him," his face as set and determined as hers.

Regina's expression was grim as well, and she flexed her hand, making sure there was a fireball ready if they needed it. "In a way, it makes a twisted sort of sense," she conceded, moving to follow them without hesitation. "Maleficent's dungeon is beneath the library, ready for Hades to use."

Pushing open the door, the three cautiously stepped through the darkened entryway of the building. Where Belle was usually standing at the circulation desk to greet those who entered her library in Storybrooke with a bright, excited smile and ink-smudged fingers, here nothing greeted them but unnatural, hovering stillness, the musty, dry smell of books left unread and long forgotten, and the dank gray interior that urged them to turn back before they were lost within its depths. If Emma hadn't been certain this was the place before, she was sure now – this was where they would find Killian. The very structure itself seemed to be trying to unnerve them, as if afraid they would succeed.

"Here, Miss Swan," Regina spoke up crisply, still focused and business-like, breaking into Emma's cluttered thoughts.

Glancing up, Emma found the other woman standing at an exact replica of the elevator down to the basement which had once held the dragon-wraith of her former friend. Obviously the mayor didn't wish to waste any more time here than was strictly necessary – whether she would admit to being unsettled or not – and Emma couldn't agree more. She crossed the room with Henry to stand at his other mother's side. They looked into the elevator for a moment, then swallowed hard and pressed on.

The old lift creaked and groaned as it brought them down into the depths below the false clock tower, and it only grew darker and danker the further they went. By the time they reached the bottom, Emma couldn't see her hand in front of her face it was so deeply black and the fog so thick. If she felt it would be any safer, she would have urged Henry to stay – but she doubted it would be, and she knew he wouldn't wait behind anyway.

"Stay close, Miss Swan," Regina warned again tartly as they stepped forward on the rocky, uneven ground. Her voice was cautious even through its crisp impatience, and Emma had learned by now to read the other woman better rather than assuming that Regina didn't care or was coldly unaffected; the former queen was worried, and ached to feel she had some semblance of control, which made her take it wherever she could.

Rather than arguing, Emma merely nodded, heading forward quickly and relieved that Regina and Henry willingly kept pace, one on each side of her, bolstering her without words. As they continued, Emma felt tingling energy, prickling sparks of heat running along her veins, making trails she felt she should be able to look down and see glowing beneath her skin in the dark. Her breath went short, coming out in ragged puffs. "Killian…" she breathed out desperately, recklessly allowing the hope free rein inside her, recognizing that the only other times she had felt such heat and excitement in her blood were when he was near. They must be getting closer to him, and it was all Emma could do not to break into a run.

A chilly gust of air ghosted over her arm, and she shivered involuntarily, turning to the side for the source of the draft and noticing a fissure that opened into a nearly hidden alcove off the main part of their underground cavern. With that same rush of intuition and tingling thrill, Emma turned aside and squeezed through the gap in the solid rock wall. Henry and Regina pressed in close behind her when she hesitated, trying to squint through the darkness. Something had called to her, but she didn't see anything except a dark, empty room of stone walls and floors at first, until Regina finally burst out in exasperation, "For pity sakes, must I do everything?!" With a flourish, she conjured orbs of fire in each hand, illuminating the area before them enough to discern shadowy shapes, and then flung the lights toward torches they could now glimpse over their heads in sconces placed all around the strange dim niche off the larger cave.

Emma had just begun to snap back at Regina, when her voice stopped in her throat on a sharp gasp at the startling sight before her. At the far end of the space, near the back wall, flickering light glinted off the steel gray metal of a thick chain trailing from a crank to the side of the ceiling, then down to manacles which held pale wrist and forearm locked together and extended over the head of a person slumped on their knees. Emma's heart stuttered in fear and vicarious pain, immediately recognizing the motionless, silent, almost lifeless form before them. Only a few seconds' glimpse at the battering of bruises and scars on the pale expanse of his bared back were all she could stand. Without taking time to worry whether or not it would work, she waved her hand desperately through the air, dissolving the chain to nothingness. With what had been stretching him and holding his body unnaturally upright gone, Killian fell prone on the hard rock floor with a soft, insensate groan escaping his mouth.

Dashing wildly to his side, Emma gathered Killian's limp form in her arms, holding him close as best she could, smoothing her trembling hands through his coarse, shaggy black hair and over his chilled, clammy skin, aching to ease his pain. She wasn't expecting to feel Henry pressed up against her side worriedly and reaching out to touch her pirate's arm with gentle concern, nor for him to whisper "Killian? Can you hear us?" She could sense Regina's presence close at their backs as well, standing guard. But when she grumbled, "What happened to you, Guyliner? Mouth off to the Lord of the Dead himself?" Emma was surprised to hear the quaver of emotion behind the Mayor's retort as well, and she knew that Regina was nearly as rattled by the state of their pirate as she was herself. The fact that he had clearly been hidden away didn't help her state of mind. How long had he been held there like that? It was as though he’d been hidden where anyone who might venture into those depths would pass by him unaware and leave him to his misery.

She gathered Killian even closer to her, and was just bending her forehead to rest against his when he jerked awake unexpectedly, snapping back to consciousness with a confused panic, and though clearly weakened and in pain, he flung himself away from her with terrified force, scrabbling backward blindly.

His voice was hoarse when it rang out and echoed back against the close walls and low ceiling, cracking with fear and mistrust, raw from what Emma feared might have been days crying out in hopeless despair and agony as he languished in torment, thinking that he would never be found. Killian's harsh, broken words lashed her heart like a whip, making her as painfully desperate as he when he howled, "Back, Demon! Stop tormenting me! Take any form you wish…but…not hers! Please…no more!"

Emma tried to shush him, begged him to truly see her as she brushed a hand down his stubbled jaw, her heart feeling new pangs of guilt and regret at the sight of the ages-old scar that had always dashingly graced his cheek bleeding again as though it had been freshly carved anew into his skin. Were all of the weals, cuts, and bruises adorning his scarred chest and back old, once-healed wounds returned to livid intensity by the insidious nature of this place and the unfinished business it deemed Killian Jones to have?

Before she could utter anything else, he cried out again, his voice mere shards of its usual deep, smooth timbre. "No! Not Emma! You are not her! Leave me! Leave me!"

When he flinched from her touch yet again, it felt as though the Dark One dagger itself had been stabbed into her breast. Emma wanted to curl up beside him and weep – hopelessness, fear, concern, and love welling up uncontrollably within at the thought that she had found him, but he might be too far gone to bring back. She steeled herself to speak to him once more in soft, pleading tones as she swept her hand across his brow, "Killian, please…look at me. It is Emma. I promise, it's me. I'm here…"

Fear darted across his face for several more taut, charged moments, looking so strange on one who had always met challenges and danger head-on, an arched brow and a dark retort for any man, beast, or monster unwise enough to think he would back down. Then, after several tense, breathlessly waiting seconds, it was as though a cloud passed over his countenance and vanished again, the shade blinding him seemed to fall from his eyes and recognition dawned as he stared at her, drinking in her face, desperate to believe. "Swan?" he whispered, voice soft and awed though rough with ill use, finally daring to hope. A trembling hand reached out toward her face, and she quickly bent to lean her cheek against his palm, as needy for his touch as he was to make sure she was real. "Emma…Love…is it really you? And H-Henry? …Lad, you're here as well?"

"Of course," Henry assured, grinning rakishly in a way Emma knew he must have picked up from Killian. Though his eyes were glassy, Henry answered this man he'd come to look up to with assurance, "Think I'd risk being deprived of a dashing rescue, Captain?"

Her love grinned back at her son crookedly, but said no more, still somewhat overcome by Henry's devotion.

Regina cleared her throat from where she stood just behind them, keeping a wary eye on the entrance. It brought a much-needed measure of levity to the trio on the floor when she grumbled, "No need to acknowledge my presence, Pirate. I simply followed them down here for my health. Brimstone and sulfur do wonders for the skin, you know."

Killian inclined his head slightly in a semblance of the mocking bow he often gave her when they squabbled. "Why, of course, your Majesty," he replied with a knowing wink, "but it is lovely to see you all the same."

The queen huffed, but gave him the tiniest quirk of her red lips in a begrudging smile.

Emma did not miss the way her love winced at even the smallest of offhand movements, but she couldn't look him over properly or try to heal any of his wounds now. They needed to get him out of his prison, first and foremost. She thought about trying to transport them all from the dungeon to the lake shore instantly with her magic, but discarded the idea almost as quickly as it came to her, knowing her powers had been behaving too unpredictably in the depths of the Underworld to be sure of where they might end up. The same concern kept her from asking Regina to move them, or – she assumed – from the queen's offering. She began to attempt standing again, ready to pull Killian up with her. "Come on, let's – "

Just as Killian spoke once more, his mind working through the situation quickly as he became more aware, and already worried for their safety, "Wh-what are all of you doing here? You can't be caught here. I d-don't want you to be trapped as well."

"Too bad," Emma shook her head, finally regaining her feet and, with Henry's help, easing him to stand as well between them. Killian was wobbly and leaning on her more than she would have liked, but then, after being held in one position for so long, she knew his limbs must be working their way back to life, beyond the injuries which must also be draining his strength. "We're not leaving without you. You've already been the hero…" here she had to swallow hard, her eyes tearing up as she remembered him dying in her arms. "Now, let me be the Savior and bring you home where you really belong."

Those devastating blue eyes bore into hers with such intensity, burning with the ardor of his next words. "Emma…Love…I knew the sacrifice I was making. This is where I belong now…what I deserve…and if the rest of you are safe…. Please, there must be a terrible price for this, and … and I won't have you paying it."

Despite his weakened state and the fervent emotion trembling within the words, his resolve was clear. Emma knew she could not fail to heed him again – not this time – but she also needed him to see that she would not be happy, would not be safe, when he suffered here alone for both their mistakes, his noble sacrifice cheapened by Gold's treachery. It wasn't right; it wasn't enough for her. She didn't have a home without him. Yet, she had to allow him this choice; she couldn't take that right away a second time. Drawing in a deep breath, she assured him, "We have a way to bring you back, one that will work. The rest of us will be fine." She paused, met his eyes hopefully, took a deep breath, and asked, "Killian, don't worry about me or anyone else; just answer me honestly: Do you want to come back with us?"

He wet his lips, obviously struggling with emotion and desire versus his sense of duty and lingering guilt. Holding her gaze, his next words came out so raw and vulnerable that they scraped across her heart, tearing loose pieces that she had already given to him. "Aye, Swan, I would wish that more than anything. You must know that. But…I do not wish anyone else to be punished or imprisoned here in my stead…if there is even a chance that could happen…"

"No, Killian," she interrupted, shaking her head gently as she brushed an unruly shock of black hair off his forehead lovingly. "You don't understand. We won't leave anyone behind. This will work." She bit her lower lip, trying to peer right into his soul, the way he had so often done with her. "Trust me?" she asked then, everything they had risked and all her future happiness riding on his answer.

"Aye, Love, I do," he swore, bringing the hand he clutched tightly in his up to clumsily brush his lips over her knuckles, "and I always will."

"Good," she said simply, a small smile gracing her mouth, and then his face as well, as they both remembered how that very response from her had sustained and given him hope through a full year of obstacles and doubts until they had been reunited once before.

Turning to Regina, Emma knew she couldn't hesitate, knew Killian would start protesting again if he figured out what she planned to do – no matter how sure she was that it would work. Shooting Henry a quick, reassuring smile, she squared her shoulders and gave the other woman a curt nod, "Let's do this," she affirmed.

Regina didn't waste a second, gripping Emma's upper arm to keep her steady and plunging a hand into her chest. Emma couldn't stop a gasp at the jarring invasion and strange sense of disconnect she felt when the formerly evil queen withdrew her hand, Emma's slightly battered, partly scabbed in gray, but mostly glowing, red heart within her grasp.

"No!" Killian cried out aghast, only knowing that any heart he had seen taken from a chest had been squeezed in nightmarish torment. "What are you doing!?" he lurched forward, fruitlessly aiming to stop her, but Henry clung to his arm determinedly from where he stood on the pirate's other side helping to keep him upright.

"Killian," Henry pleaded, trying to offer comfort even though his voice quavered too. "It's okay. She's not going to crush it. Emma wanted her to do this…Look!" Henry knew there was still a risk; splitting a heart had worked for his gramps and grandma, and he knew his mom and Killian loved each other deeply, but they didn't have any guarantee.

Emma slumped forward, unaware, and though she wasn't heavy, with his own injuries and weakness, it nearly brought Killian down too. Awkwardly, he took what strength he had left to untangle their fingers and wrap his arm around her, drawing Emma to his side though it pained the open gashes on his torso, and letting her head come to rest on his shoulder.

When he turned back to Regina, her gaze was intent on the heart in her hand, as concerned as he had ever seen the proud royal. Determinedly, she worked at the organ until, to all of their intense relief, it split down the middle and she reached forward to press half of it into each of their chests.

"Ready, Captain?" she asked, voice taut and nervous, though he knew she would never say so.

He gave her a nod, meeting her eyes fiercely before letting his gaze return to Emma's soft, lax, but still lovely, face. In the next instant, he drew a fuller, more rejuvenating breath than he had taken since falling on the shores of the lake in Storybrooke. There was still the odd sensation of a hand in his chest, but a moment more and that was gone too as Regina pulled back, leaving a half of his love's heart within his body.

Emma surfaced to consciousness with a similar heaving breath, blinking as her light once more suffused her cheeks, and her eyes regained their lively sparkle. "Are we okay?" she asked blearily, and then more fervently, "Did it work?!"

"It would seem so," Regina said drily, arching a perfectly sculpted brow as if to say, 'You're alive and speaking to me, aren't you?', but she spared a cautious, genuine smile for the savior and Emma could sense the relief behind the harsh veneer. "Now," Regina continued, "let's not wait around to see what else can go wrong. It's time we were home." With a wave of her hand, clearly having deemed the risk worth it, and a swirl of purple smoke, they were all standing with a jolt on the shore of Hades' realm, right next to the boat which had brought them from Storybrooke.

Looking around in surprise as he reoriented himself, Killian already felt some of his lost strength and vigor returning to him, and he marveled at the power and love for him that must have been held within Emma's heart to pull this off so quickly and so well. Henry placed a hand on his hook's brace, drawing his attention with a grin while pointing out fast-approaching figures in the near distance.

Squinting, Killian could see Dave, Mary Margaret, and Robin coming toward them at a run, and was touched and humbled once more to think that all of these people would venture to the very depths of Hell for the likes of him. Once the rest of their rescue party had reached them at the water's edge – minus Gold, whom no one seemed inclined to worry about – Robin greeted him with an exuberant cry of welcome, while Dave clapped him on the shoulder firmly, and Mary Margaret – to Killian's complete and utter astonishment – flung her arms around him in a joyful, maternal hug.

"It's wonderful to see you too, Milady," Killian managed, almost embarrassed at such a greeting from a woman who at best had always seemed unsure about him as a suitor for her daughter.

The dark-haired royal pulled back with a watery smile, but not before pausing to whisper in his ear, "We needed to get you back, Killian. I don't think I could have stood to watch Emma in that state any longer. She was … broken …without you."

The pirate dipped his head, hiding a swell of emotion at her words, and even when he raised his face once more, his eyes were glassy with unshed tears he sniffed back conspicuously.

"Well," Robin called out, breaking into the thoughts of all their gathered group, bow over his shoulder and fingers once again laced with Regina's, "shall we go?"

"Not so fast, Archer," a silky voice rang out, stopping all of them in their tracks, just as they had been ready to step into the boat pointed home. "I do believe you're planning to steal something – or should I say someone? – who belongs to me."

The unassuming gentleman in a sleek, tailored suit who strutted toward them over the dead, brown grass before the lake, didn't look like much of a threat, but none of them were taken in by his calm, almost jovial manner, nor his pleased, oily smile. "Don't listen to him," Regina ordered tersely, urging Henry, Robin. Snow, and David into the boat ahead of her as planned. "He can't stop us from leaving. We aren't dead, and therefore we aren't part of his domain."

Hades, as Emma realized the man must be, moved ever closer and shook his head like a disappointed parent would at a child who refused to obey. "Ah," he answered smoothly, "but I fear one of you is indeed under my dominion. Breathed his last on these very shores, in fact."

Emma stepped just slightly in front of Killian, wavering slightly as she still recovered from aftereffects of losing part of a vital organ. Yet, she looked as fierce and defiant as she ever had; red jacket standing out against her stark, dull surroundings and a glow emanating from her as she stared down the ruler of the Underworld himself. "You can't have him," she growled through gritted teeth.

Even as Killian feared for her safety, knowing all too well what this seeming "gentleman" and his demons could do, he couldn't deny that his Swan was glorious – a sight to behold.

Emma motioned behind her for Regina to get in the boat as well and take Killian with her. The regal balked, a quick, "Emma, are you sure about…" escaping, but she was cut off with a jerky nod and set jaw, and she did as the Savior asked, pulling Killian forcibly after her.

"Admirable determination, my dear," Hades taunted, "but you might as well admit defeat. I am well acquainted with this pirate, all that brave stoicism mixed with his massive self-loathing for his past wrongs makes a nice break for me from eons of monotonous sniveling, pleading beggars for mercy. Fresh entertainment playing with someone who can endure so much pain, it's quite addictive, you see. Not to mention… I've been alerted to your little scheme to steal my new plaything. It won't work. Even if I were inclined to release one of my subjects, it isn't possible. He died, he is one of mine now, and there is not a thing you can do about it."

A second shadowy figure emerged from the surrounding mist and darkness, and as the person came to stand just at Hades' elbow, Emma recognized Gold, an insidious smile on his smug, self-satisfied face. "Miss me, Dearies?" he cackled ominously. Then his gleaming gaze narrowed as it fell on Emma. "I did warn you not to test me, Miss Swan," he stated with chilling finality, a cunning glint casting frightening light in his eyes. "Thanks to my early warning, our temporary host has promised me that he will make sure our near-escapee finds his stay even more unpleasant from now on, and has given me his word to keep you as well, far away from my Belle, who will have no idea what I've done, and right here with him to magnify the punishment for you both. A simple memory wipe on the rest of you meddlesome fools who insist on playing heroes, and I shall finally have my happy ending."

Emma heard the scuffling of Killian trying to fight his way out of Regina's and Robin's grasps to get back to her. "You'll do no such thing, Crocodile!" he was railing, as she could hear Snow gasp in shock and horror, and Henry and her father's yells of anger and dismay. All of that was drowned out though by the roaring in her ears and the intense desire she had to throttle the cowardly pawnbroker with her bare hands. Of course he would go and try to get in good with the Devil himself to double cross them! As if making Killian's sacrifice to destroy the darkness void for his own gain hadn't been terrible enough! The rage that overcame her with knowing that these two monstrous fiends could be so blasé about the torment they wanted to put Killian through, at seeing for herself all they had already done to the man she loved, was vibrating through her being and she sensed her magic about to explode uncontrollably, blindly. Still, she narrowed her eyes, determined not to give anything away to the insidious crocodile. She understood now why Killian's nickname for his foe had always been so apt – reptilian, grasping, clawing, and willing to do anything to save his own leathery hide and secure his own self-interests, despite who else might be hurt along the way. She quickly turned her focus back to Hades though. No matter how badly she wanted to strike Gold down, this fallen deity was the one with the real power in the Underworld.

"You know," Hades taunted, a mocking pout of fake sympathy on his face, "it really is quite tragic, Savior. You seem to be able to save everyone but the ones you care for most. Love can do much, but even where there is love…dead is still dead."

Emma was backed right up to the edge of the water, her heels actually touching the side of their little boat as it rocked on the dark, uneasy tide. Hades stood practically nose to nose with her, but she wouldn't give in. Instead, she nodded toward Gold. "We'll see about that," she hissed, forcing bravado she only partially felt, "but you might want to question whether your new partner has told you everything."

With that, she stepped backwards into the boat, and Charon began to row away, no other option, his mindless task ingrained in his being until the end of time.

Hades raised a hand, and some red bolt of radiating power shot toward them, but it hit an invisible barrier none of them could see, ricocheted off the wooden boat's side, and went barreling back, knocking the Devil and the Dark One flat on their backs on the shore. Emma felt a pang in her chest like a plucked guitar string vibrating, and everything in her vision went hazy. She staggered, seeing less and less as she heard them all talking to her, around her, anxiously. She had just enough sight and awareness left to reassure herself that they were still moving toward home, and then it all faded away as she fell back into Killian's – and her family's – arms.

~~~~CS~~~~~CS~~~~CS~~~~CS~~~

The following afternoon…

Emma Swan blinks her eyes against the gentle sunshine filtering in warm, yellow stripes through the plain white curtains she hung in the Captain's quarters of Killian's ship. Yawning and stretching languidly, she can't help the grin which spreads slowly and happily across her face upon realizing just where she is and in whose arms she has been resting. They made it home again – all of them – safe and sound, and she is snuggled up with her pirate in his bunk. Sitting up just a bit to gaze down at him affectionately, honestly enjoying the view, and able to see now that they are in the land of the living he already has more color and his scars have once again begun to fade, Emma trails her hand along his chest, playfully running her fingers through the coarse hair covering his muscled torso, unable to stop staring at the man she literally went to Hell and back to find. The half a heart they now share swells with love until it seems to overflow, and Emma wriggles back into Killian's warm embrace, while he continues to sleep – she hopes peacefully. Even deep in slumber, Killian gathers her closer to his side tenderly with the arm draped over her hip and mumbles something she can't quite make out against the warm skin of her neck at the collar of her sweater.

His brow furrows, and she aches to soothe him, to assure him that they are together again and all will be well. She knows that things won't stay peaceful in their little town for long, nor can she keep him from the nightmares and remembrances of the ordeal he has been through. Still, she places a kiss to his brow and murmurs, "Shh…rest, Killian," as she brushes back the dark fringe of his hair. 

The last day and night are an exhausted, emotional blur before Emma's eyes as she lies back down and tries to return to rest with her pirate. She remembers the traumatic details of finding Killian in that stone dungeon and his ancient scars and emotional pains brought to fresh life upon his skin, how sapped and hopeless he had been – to the point that he had seemed unable to acknowledge they had come after him. She remembers Regina splitting her heart, and all of them standing of the shores of the lake as Hades tried to stop them from returning to the world of the living with her sailor. Beyond that though… the boat ride back, how she had ended up here with Killian, cozily wrapped in his embrace... it is all a misty jumble in her mind. She can bring back snatches of her parents', Henry's, and even Regina's and Robin's voices, discussing what to do once they reached town, how they had all progressed while they were split up in the Underworld, and if she were truly okay, but none of it comes into clear focus for her. She has the vague, lingering suspicion that Killian must have carried her to his ship, rather than the house she'd taken over as the Dark One, or her parents' loft, over any other ideas or suggestions, and that the others must have decided that he knew best and left the two of them alone to heal together.

With a sigh, she forces her eyes to the gash made by Excalibur still blatantly visible on his neck, while Killian remains unaware. Though it is no longer ragged and draining his lifeblood before her very eyes, Emma knows that this wound will never completely fade. In some way, this particular scar will always be upon his skin, reminding her of when it all went wrong, how horribly she failed him. Her fingers tremble as she traces the abraded skin, and she blinks back her tears quickly. Not, however, before a couple of them escape and pool on the warm skin in the hollow of his collarbone.

Rousing, Killian's eyes blink open to find her awake and studying him sadly, her eyes welling with tears and her hands clutching his shoulders as though afraid he will be taken from her again. "What is it, Love?" he murmurs, smoothing his hand through her hair and snugging his hookless bare wrist against the thick wool sweater at her back, pulling her impossibly closer still. "What's happened?"

She shakes her head, a breath wet with choked back sobs huffing out of her chest. "Nothing, Killian, I just…" she traces her fingers lightly over the shell of his ear, grinning at how the top curve comes almost to a bit of a point.  In spite of her jumbled feelings and the fact that she is still struggling to get her words out, she cannot help but marvel at each tiny wonder that make up her True Love. "You'll always have those two new scars…and it's….it's my fault…"

"Oh, Emma…" Killian breathes in soft, stunned understanding, his eyes infinitely kind and unfailingly full of love. "You’ve more than made it right. When I blamed you, I was nothing but the worst version of myself. Do not carry those words, nor that guilt, any longer, Swan." He sighs, sensing that she is still upset and punishing herself, and briefly rests his chin atop the soft golden hair at the crown of her head. Gathering a bit more nerve, he adds gruffly, "That you were so desperate to keep me with you…" he pauses to wet his lips, not wanting his voice to waiver or to make her doubt, "While I detested losing control of myself… I also never thought to be so loved."

Emma's tears do begin to escape her at that, though she can't utter any sort of response. Leaning up to rest her forehead against his, wanting only to have him see in her eyes that he is loved now, more than either of them would have once felt possible, more than either of them could have ever known.

"You entered into the very depths of Hell to fetch me back to your side, Emma. You walked amidst my demons and my nightmares of loved ones I have lost and the horrible things I have done, and you pulled me out into the light once again. You are quite literally my heart now, and I never wish to be parted from you."

"If I have my way, you never will be," Emma vows fervently against his lips in response, just before fusing their mouths in a tender kiss that begins to ease the pain that wounds and separation had wrought. Both are quiet then, at peace wrapped in each other's arms. Swearing to never be torn apart again; they are happy, and they are home.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @cosette141 @sotangledupinit @xsajx @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @stahlop @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan @therooksshiningknight @spartanguard @winterbaby89 @resident-of-storybrooke @wefoundloveunderthelight @zaharadessert @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda @justanother-unluckysoul @hollyethecurious @killian-whump @thislassishooked @cocohook38​ @mie779​ 

#self promo sunday #ouat 5b spec fic #ouat canon divergent ff #cs one shot #take me home to your arms #killian whump #hurt comfort

[kazoosandfannypacks]

do you have any headcannons on mentally illness, disability or neurodivergency for ouat?

This isn't quite what you're looking for, but @kingofbr00klyn and @silver-the-phoenix and I have this au/possible headcanon that whenever someone dies but comes back, they often return with ptsd related to the way that they died. Some examples:

In S1:Ep1, Charming effectively died from a stab wound while putting Emma in the wardrobe. Now, whenever he's holding a baby, especially in that arm, he gets flashbacks

In S3:Ep11, Gold dies by stabbing himself and Peter Pan, and He gave Peter Pan a hug to do so. Hugs are no longer a comfort to him.

In S4:Ep22, Killian is snuck up on and stabbed in the back. People sneaking up behind him startles him a lot more than is warranted.

In S5:Ep8, Killian is given a would-be-fatal slash to the neck with a sword. He's now very sensitive about his neck- he won't wear a scarf or a turtleneck or a tight necked shirt (not that he had a habit of wearing shirts with a close-fitting neckline 😉) He also can not wear a seatbelt with a shoulder strap, because it makes him feel like he's gonna die again.

Feel free to add on some of your own!

#once upon a time #ouat #whump #angst #ptsd #killian jones #david nolan #charming ouat #rumplestiltskin #mr gold #once upon a time season 5 #ouat headcanon #ouat au

[deckerstarblanche]

Welcome to Chapter 1 of my CSSNS23 entry: “An Offer She Can’t Refuse”!

Huge thanks to @undercaffinatednightmare for the gorgeous art, and to @ultraluckycatnd for being the perfect hand-holding beta ❤️.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48705193/chapters/122860717

An Offer She Can’t Refuse

Chapter One

Emma was standing alone in her dorm’s communal kitchen area when it happened. The first sign of trouble was a prickling feeling from head to toe, causing her whole body to break out in goosebumps.

She was shaking a jumbo box of Milk Duds, impatiently waiting for her popcorn to finish popping so she could combine the two into her favorite salty sweet comfort snack.

The microwave dinged, so she ignored the fine sheen of sweat covering her forehead, calmly pouring the chocolate and caramel drops over the hot popcorn and watching it melt together into gooey goodness.

How is it possible to be both hot and cold at the same time? Emma wondered, willing herself to believe that it could just be a cold — just last month, she had missed out on a spring break trip with her girlfriends because of the flu — so she hurried back to her room, eager to get under the covers and chill out.

That evening, her friend Killian had come over for a long-awaited movie night, which they usually did as a foursome with their respective roommates, Mary Margaret and David. Their friends had been a couple all year, completely smitten since they met on the very first first weekend of the fall semester, and stayed glued at the hip ever since.

Luckily for Emma, they tended to have their sleepovers in David’s room; wherever Killian spent the night, she didn’t really want to know.

That particular evening they’d had to cancel, in order to answer nature’s call: David’s rut arrived three days earlier than expected. The college provided free, on campus Safe Houses for exactly this purpose, but their reservation system was fully booked, leaving them no choice but to pack quickly and speed over to his family’s nearby vacation cabin to ride it out. Emma helped her nervous, excited roommate pack that morning, lending her a large tote bag to fill with all of her most treasured comfort items: a baggy navy hoodie that David presented to her on the first blustery day of fall, a hand-sewn quilt passed down from mother to daughter for five generations, and a small fluffy pillow Emma got her as a birthday present. It was a sunny yellow (Mary Margaret’s favorite color), and had “What’s Up Buttercup?” printed on top.

So four became two, and since Killian won first film pick in a coin toss, that night’s selection was The Godfather.

Her sweaty shakiness had ebbed by the time Emma got back to her dorm room, and she sighed with a deep sense of relief. But when she opened the door to the 12x19 foot space that she and Mary Margaret called home, already dark and movie-ready except for the glow from Killian’s iPhone, she was hit by a wave of scent so intense that it made her feel weak in the knees. It was woodsy, grassy and musky, with a virile boost of testosterone. Despite her crappy mood, it calmed her, sweeping all of her stress away.

Calmed and aroused simultaneously, as it turned out. The air around her felt thick with masculinity, and Emma’s stomach swooped in anticipation.

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

One of Storybrooke College’s biggest selling points was their commitment to making the finest education accessible for Alphas, Betas, and Omegas alike, regardless of designation and gender. Part of that promise involved the school's state-of-the-art filtration system, which neutralized the air in all of the co-ed facilities, including the dorms. The level of scent surrounding Emma shouldn’t have been detectable.

One of the reasons she had chosen this tiny liberal arts college, four hours away from her home in Boston, was so she could focus on her work and finish her undergraduate degree in three years. Emma had big goals: she wanted to become a Social Worker, focusing specifically on advocacy for foster kids who had the chance to avoid growing up like she did. If she intended to stay on track and on-budget (tiny schools weren’t cheap), she needed to keep her head on her work, and away from distractions.

That was why the situation she found herself in that night was so strange; after nearly a year spent living in that dorm, Emma had never picked up such a unique, personal scent other than her own, and damn it was good.

“About time you got back, Swan! I was going to start without— hey, are you alright?” Killian asked, sitting up on her bed as the grin on his face shifted to a concerned look. The deep, raspy timbre of his unused voice caused a shiver to race down Emma’s spine, almost making her drop the bowl. She ground her jaw shut, willing the ventilation system’s scent blockers to kick in.

“Yeah, it’s nothing… Please, just hand me my blanket and pillow backrest thingie, and you try my famous caramel chocolate popcorn,” she muttered, shoving the bowl into his lap in exchange for her stuff. He whined a little at the loss of her comfy bedding, but he knew better than to cross her about it.

Emma did not mess around when it came to pillows and blankets: last September, when the girls on her floor had a “best nest” competition, Emma and Mary Margaret won first place in a fierce competition by completely transforming their room into a scene from 1,001 Arabian Nights. They went all out, decorating the room with gauze-covered hanging lanterns, and nearly covering their floor with colorful lounging pillows and soft cushions. They even served Moroccan Mint tea in glass cups, poured from an authentic-looking tea set Mary Margaret borrowed from the theater department.

Climbing onto Mary Margaret’s bed, Emma cocooned herself in the huge fleece blanket and set her backrest against the wall, sighing peacefully as she sank against the support.

She tried not to notice how the blanket seemed to have absorbed that irresistible, masculine scent into its fibers, surrounding her and overwhelming her senses. But Emma knew she could hold steadfast against the urge to give in to her hormones. Back in high school, she spent too much time kissing frogs: worthless boys who thought dating an Omega meant that she’d be a submissive, sex-crazed robot.

If nothing else, those experiences made Emma Swan an expert at hiding her true feelings and stuffing them deep down inside.

The fact that her entire body was literally and figuratively burning with desire had nothing to do with Killian, who was an Alpha himself. From what she could see in the dark room, he was unaware of her meltdown. She just needed to get through the movie. If she could keep up the charade that all was well, she could see to her own needs once he was safely back on his side of the dorm.

Besides, Emma had heard enough chatter about Killian’s adventurous love life to know that she should steer clear. They had built a good friendship over the school year, and she valued it far too much to ruin things; exactly what would happen if she became another notch on his headboard.

While she couldn’t fully control her body’s reactions at the moment, her brain helpfully reminded her about what he’d told her back in September. Killian wasn’t looking to become a one-woman guy anytime soon, and Emma had no interest in being anyone’s plaything ever again. There was no reason that she couldn’t make it through tonight.

Somehow.

“Shall we watch, then? I still cannot believe you’ve only seen The Godfather once! That’s a bloody crime, Swan— you have to see it as many times as possible in order to really appreciate Coppola’s genius,” Killian quipped smugly, and she glared at the outline of him shaking his head and chuckling at her expense.

Good, she thought to herself. He hasn’t even noticed that I’m freaking out over here, and he doesn’t ever have to know. I can resist this...

“Yeah, ok, Roger Ebert. The deal was that if I watched the whole movie, you’d give the Milk Dud-melted popcorn a legitimate try, so eat up!” Emma sassed, trying to deflect attention from her shaky voice as he clicked through the dvd’s menu.

“You’ve certainly gotten the better end of the deal, love. This popcorn concoction of yours looks fucking disgusting. Do I really have to eat it?” he asked with an exaggerated groan, and Emma almost bit through her lower lip to keep herself from reacting to the sound.

The speed at which her symptoms intensified made Emma’s head spin. In a few short minutes, her world had shrunken down to fit on the head of a pin. The deep-seated Omega instincts within her screamed for what only an Alpha - or the perfectly good silicone toy hidden in her underwear drawer - could provide. Worse, it seemed like her hormones didn’t care if the guy in question was her best friend— as long as both partners were attracted and consenting, Killian had what she needed to get the release she craved.

“Oh, pardon me for sharing my grubby American snack food! You come from a place where they eat stewed tomatoes and animal intestines for breakfast, so do me a favor and shut up so I can concentrate on ‘really appreciating’ Coppola’s genius,” Emma drawled in a terrible impression of his accent, rolling her eyes. He just snickered and clicked the play button, scooping a handful of popcorn out of the bowl.

As the familiar opening music played, Emma focused intently on the screen. She wouldn’t think about the Alpha lounging on her bed, and how his presence was causing her heart to beat so fast that it felt ready to burst right through her chest, Aliens style. Nope, she wouldn’t let herself fall victim to the urges rippling through her body; it was too risky. She couldn’t lose him.

########

The Godfather really was Killian’s favorite movie, but he would’ve suffered through an 24 hour marathon of *The Three Stooges* if it gave him a chance to be alone with Emma Swan.

They had only known each other for a few short months, but from the moment they met — placed in a group together at freshman orientation last August — the two of them just clicked. When their brand new roommates got hot and heavy with each other that first weekend, they both found themselves banished to the common room on Emma’s floor, where they wound up talking for hours. It was one of those friendship-cementing, life-story-sharing bonding sessions that happen so often in college.

As the weeks flashed by, they settled into a reliable, platonic friendship. During their epic talk, Emma confessed that she was on a self-imposed vacation from relationships — a messy breakup with a Beta, some hometown loser called Neal — and to mask his disappointment, Killian embellished his 19 year-old teenager’s fantasy of being a ladies’ man.

He instantly regretted his words when her beautifully expressive face shut down, so he quickly changed the subject and cracked cheesy jokes to get a smile out of her. From then on, Killian made sure they never broached the topic again, and by the fall semester’s end, they had developed a platonic bond that he treasured far more than any hookup.

Of course, that didn’t mean he’d ever stopped wanting her.

Emma never had to know that she starred in his dreams every night, but Killian wasn’t sure she’d even care. At first, it really wounded his inner Alpha’s pride that she never seemed *into* him, but Emma was complicated like that: combative one day, and cuddly the next.

Besides, he could never stay away from her for long, especially when she drank just enough to get tipsy, and she’d snuggle into his side, sliding close enough to scratch her fingers through his hair. Pathetically, he lived for these brief intimate moments, when he could inhale her fruity shampoo and a wisp of her muted scent, imagining that she was his.

One thing was for certain: she wasn’t like other girls at school, nor was she like any other Omega Killian had known in his life. Emma Swan was in a class all her own, and full of contradictions: she possessed uncommon beauty and fierce intelligence, but she could be stubborn as a mule and prickly as a pineapple. By earning her trust, he’d become one of the few allowed to know that beneath her tough exterior beat an incredibly soft and generous heart. The more time he spent in her company, from late night diner study breaks to pre-party drinking sessions with their group of friends, the more enamored he became.

Most of their fellow freshmen were living away from home for the first time in their lives, so they were more than happy to unleash, experiment, and play. Killian, along with his buddies Rob, August, and Phillip, partied almost every weekend of the fall semester, and more often than he cared to admit, he’d wake up the next morning in a random girl’s bed.

That ladies’ man lie he’d told Emma had become his reality, but he didn’t feel good about it, and he was damn lucky he hadn’t called anyone by her name. Yet.

Since there were seemingly no secrets at Storybrooke College, when word spread that Killian Jones knew exactly how to please a lady, a legend was born all on its own.

All of that female attention, along with his self-proclaimed “dashing rapscallion” nature, had earned him admiration from fellow Alphas at SBC, but it was all a ruse. In private, he tried to keep a careful distance from the women he slept with, paying more attention to their satisfaction than his own, and never engaging with an Omega in heat. Part of him felt guilty, like he was leading them on; after all, it wasn’t their fault that was hung up on Emma Swan.

Killian was raised to always strive to be a man of honor, so he never promised anyone more than he could give.

So he waited, caught in a holding pattern between the undeniable pull of Alpha ego-stroking and his lovesick puppy dog feelings for Emma, unsure if she would ever return them. In the meantime, he contented himself with her friendship, hoping that eventually she’d see him in a different light.

######

For a solid half hour, everything was normal, and the Corleone family wedding unfolded on Emma’s small, battered tv screen like it always did. As the sequence ended with father and daughter waltzing to the movie’s theme music, Emma suddenly seized up with a burning pain deep in her pelvis. Struggling for breath, she tried to hide her discomfort by burrowing further into her blanket.

Immediately, the film paused and her tiny bedside light clicked on, illuminating Killian’s worried expression in the otherwise dark room.

“Swan? Are you alright over there?” he asked, and she tried to say something to reassure him, but another flash of pain made her dig her fingernails into her palms to keep from crying out. She couldn’t speak without sounding desperately needy, so she clamped her mouth shut and breathed through her nose.

Killian was aware that something was off about Emma from the minute she walked into the room that night, but now the problem was glaringly obvious: the ventilation in her room was on the fritz. Her sweet scent, usually muted by the system, beckoned— the sudden seismic jolt of lust that rolled over him meant that Emma was starting an intense heat phase. If he was truly her friend, and a man of honor, he’d get out of her way as soon as possible.

Why couldn’t he tear himself away, then?

Suddenly, Emma sat up with a shocked expression on her face. Her eyes squeezed shut and then she shook her head, as if she was trying to clear the fog from her brain.

“Shit, no wonder I’m feeling all out of whack…I left my pills in the bag I lent to Mary Margaret for the weekend!” Emma yelped with embarrassment, as a flush crept from her chest all the way up to her face. Quickly, the sweaty-shivering feeling was back, and it continued to increase in intensity right alongside a narrowing of her focus to one thing: Alpha.

“I don’t mean to pry, love, but are those pills of yours suppressants?” Killian asked her gently, and even though she was purposefully looking away, she could still feel his gaze burning into her.

“Um, I’m not exactly sure? I’ve been taking them since I was 13, and I was too embarrassed to ask anyone at the group home — even the doctor who gave them to me — about woman-type stuff. I never missed a dose before!” Emma admitted, feeling flustered and ridiculous.

She sucked in a breath when it dawned on her: the medicine she thought she was only taking to regulate her cycle had also dramatically reduced the intensity of her quarterly heats for the past six years. Most of the other Omega girls at school constantly complained about symptoms and urges that drove them mad, but Emma figured she was just lucky.

Apparently not. How could she have been so clueless?

“Six years? That’s an awfully long time, Emma. Maybe you should call the health center, you know, check in with them about side effects and erm…” he trailed off, his face heating up as he searched his brain for the right words.

She shifted uncomfortably on her roommate’s bed, full of nerves in Killian’s presence. Most of their guy friends were Alphas too, but Emma didn’t usually give it much thought. David was around so often that she considered him more of a brother figure, or an extension of Mary Margaret. It was similar to her neutral feelings about Rob, or August, or any of the other guys in their circle; they were only friends, nothing more.

“Ugh Jones, you know I don’t like that place! The doctor over there is always so creepy,” Emma deflected with a pout, pulling her hair up into a messy bun.

With Killian, everything had always been different, in the best way. Emma wanted to be with him: they could spend hours in each other’s company, talking about anything under the sun without getting bored, or just studying together in comfortable silence. Now that she thought about it, she was always happier when he was around, more open and affectionate than she’d been with anyone else in her life.

It wasn’t until tonight that Emma knew she’d have no problem letting him help her through this little hiccup in her cycle.

At the same time, he was probably the closest thing she’d ever had to a best friend, other than Mary Margaret. They just understood each other. How could she ever risk that friendship over something as trivial as sex?

But oh…imagining what it would be like to be together in that way, sharing that physical and emotional connection with him, made her tremble with a heightened sense of anticipation. She needed him to quench the flames rising inside of her.

Unbidden, an image of them in bed, sweaty and sated and intimately tied together, formed in her mind.

It was simple biology: Statistically, Alphas and Omegas had the best chance of conceiving children together. Omegas were born with enhanced fertility, and when combined with a natural lock binding them together (aka: an Alpha’s knot) was Mother Nature’s way of stacking the deck.

Advances in birth control made it possible for couples to decide when they wanted to have children, but no method was guaranteed. Emma didn’t want to leave anything to chance, so dating Beta men exclusively was her way of decreasing biology’s advantage.

With such a jumble of thoughts crowding her brain, Emma almost missed that her sharpened sense of smell picked up another pheromone overload in the room.

Could it be possible that he felt the same way about her?

She licked her lips at the thought of kissing him for real, causing her gut to clench. What would it be like to be with him? Emma played it out in her mind; surely it would be more than satisfying. From the gossip she’d heard, Killian was a sure bet, always knowing what women wanted. What would his hands feel like on her body? His presence loomed large in the tiny room, and it took all of her self control not to jump onto her bed and kiss the hell out of him.

How would he react? She had a feeling she would soon find out.

####

“Earth to Emma! Will you say something, please?” Killian asked, the alarm in his voice pulling her out of her reverie. At some point during her freakout, he had crossed the twelve feet of space between the beds and pulled out her roommate’s desk chair, sitting close by but not invading her space. Emma was instantly relieved by the gesture, reminding herself that Killian was the guy she’d grown to depend on, not some brute who only saw a sweet-smelling Omega he could use to satisfy his basest urges.

“I’m scared, Killian,” she admitted, feeling so hot and sweaty that she had to force herself to unwrap the blanket from her body. “This has never happened to me before! What if I can’t control myself, or some random Alpha picks up on what’s going on, and he tries to force me to — ugh, I don’t know! Maybe I should call Mary Margaret, and see if I can just pick up my pills from her,” she fretted, twisting a corner of the fleece in her grip nervously.

“I understand,” he soothed, interrupting her anxiety spike. “You’ve got to breathe, though, because you're going to hyperventilate if you keep this up. Can you do that for me first, Swan?”

Emma listened to him, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. Soon enough, her heartbeat slowed back to its regular rhythm, and even though the warm hand he’d tentatively placed on her back sent electric sparks down her spine, his reassuring touch made her feel safe and grounded.

Once he was sure that the worst had passed, Killian began to speak again, unsure of how she’d react.

“The trouble is, Emma, that David and Mary Margaret are about an hour’s drive from here. If you still want to go and get your pills, I’m happy to drive you. But if you’d rather stay here and ride it out, I’ll say it right now: I won’t leave you unprotected,” Killian told her bluntly. Emma looked utterly confused until her muffled brain picked up his meaning. She was livid.

“Oh, are you going to stand outside my door and defend my honor? Believe me, I can handle myself just fine, Jones,” she seethed, spitting his name out like poison as she launched herself to her feet. He watched, speechless as she tugged on the doorknob, exposing their private little world to the whitewashed concrete and fluorescent-lit hallway.

“I think you should just leave for a little while.”

He flinched at her cold tone, but Killian had enough sense to risk trying to dominate her. Clearly, Emma needed her space — he knew she’d want to get back in full control of herself as soon as possible — but there wasn’t a chance in hell that he’d stand by and watch her drive alone, especially in her disoriented state.

It didn’t help matters that they’d been in her room for a while, so he was completely surrounded by Emma’s lovely scent, which had always reminded him of the summer sun, mixed with sweet melon and tart strawberries. That night, it had a more sensual, muskier edge than he was used to, so instead of feeling happy and comfortable like he usually did in her presence, he could barely resist the urge to bury his face in her neck.

In general, Killian was pretty confident in his ability to control himself, but he had no idea how much longer he could physically stand being in the same room with Emma that night. His purely Alpha desire to possess and mark her could send them spiraling down a friendship-ending path.

“If that’s what you really want, I’ll go,” he said quietly, lifting himself up off Emma’s bed. He waited for her to say something, but she just gestured toward the door, her green eyes unreadable.

“I’d really appreciate that, at least for a little while,” she admitted, and the shaky breathiness in her voice both raised his protective hackles and sent a jolt of lust surging through his blood.

He needed to leave the room.

“Of course, Swan. I won’t go far, so if you need anything, just text or call and I’ll come right back. And if you decide that you’d like to drive out, just say the word and I’ll pick you up, ok?” he assured her calmly as he walked through the open door, even though his insides were churning with nervous energy. She just nodded, sagging against the wall. Her eyes were glassy, like she’d been drugged.

Killian had been with enough women of Emma’s type to know that when they got that glazed look, their instincts could overrule their rational brains at any time. There had to be at least a hundred other Alphas in their dorm alone, and he knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill any one of them if they dared to take advantage of her in such a vulnerable state.

He needed to call Elsa, and quickly.

———-

The phone seemed to ring forever, and by the time someone picked up the line, Killian was practically tearing his hair out.

“Little brother, why are you calling so late? Everything alright?” Liam’s voice, usually so welcome to his ears, sounded like nails scraping against chalkboard to someone as keyed up as Killian was at that moment.

“I’m fine, just put me on with your wife. Please,” he begged through gritted teeth, hating the pathetic cracking in his voice.

“You don’t sound fine,” Liam observed casually, as if he was across the room and not 3,000 miles away. “Are you on drugs?”

“LIAM! I called Elsa, not you. If she’s there, put her on the bloody phone,” he growled. Moments later, his sister-in-law’s calming voice came onto the line.

“Killian? Tell me what’s wrong,” she soothed, and the buildup of adrenaline began to drain from his bloodstream as fast as it had rushed in, leaving him feeling depleted and foolish. He sagged down onto a park bench, head in his hands as he cradled the phone between his shoulder and ear.

“Elsa, I need your advice. I have a very close friend who needs my help, you know? Problem is, she’s a skittish lass, and I don’t know if I can give her what she needs without ruining the friendship. On the other hand, the thought of anyone else touching her makes me feel sick. What should I do?”

A soft chuckle floated across the line, and he exhaled with relief, knowing that Elsa needed no further explanation.

“Well, it sounds like you care about this girl quite a lot. We’re talking about your friend Emma, right?” Elsa guessed, the gentle teasing in her voice already helping to calm his anxiety.

“Yes, h-how did you know?” he asked, his voice stuttering in disbelief.

“Besides the fact that Emma is the only woman I’ve ever heard about for the entire time you’ve been at school? If your roles were reversed, and she offered to help you through a rut, would you take the risk?”

Killian didn’t even need to think about his answer. “In a bloody second! It would be amazing, but I already know that I’m mad for her. Emma hasn’t ever wanted anything but friendship from me, and it feels an awful lot like I’d be taking advantage.” he told his sister-in-law, as his heart pounded with uncertainty.

“Killian, I know that time is of the essence here, so I’ll be crystal clear: Calm down, give Emma the space to decide what she wants, then follow her lead! Trust me, her reaction will clear up any questions about where you stand in her mind. It doesn’t sound to me like she’s going to freeze you out,” she assured him, and after thanking Elsa profusely and apologizing again for calling them so late, he hung up.

Almost immediately, his phone buzzed with a new text from Emma:

*I’m really sorry for kicking you out. If you’re still ok with driving up to David’s place, then I’d like to go with you.*

Killian clutched the phone in his hand, almost giddy at the thought of finally being free to kiss and touch and care for Emma the way she deserved. Self doubt still plagued his soul, and he knew that getting this close to her without knowing how she felt about him was a gamble, but it was his choice. The privilege of being there for Emma was its own reward, and it would be worth the risk.

####

As his truck barreled down the uneven road that marked the final leg of their journey to David’s cabin, Killian winced every time the rocky terrain made Emma gasp or cry out in discomfort. He couldn’t read her expression since she was still curled up in her fleece cocoon, but each agonizing sound tore into his soul.

Killian knew how simple it would be for him to relieve her pain, but he was still worried that she’d interpret that offer as a violation of their friendship, and hate him for even suggesting such a thing.

“I’m so sorry, love. We’ll be there soon, I promise,” he assured her, reaching his right hand out to give her what was meant to be a comforting squeeze. The moment his hand made contact with her blanketed body, with the cool touch of his fingers so close to her heated skin, Emma tore the blanket away, breathing heavily. Her blonde hair floated around her like a gorgeous mess, her skin was flushed crimson, and the look in her eyes nearly made him slam on the brakes in the middle of the road.

“Killian, you’ve got to pull over, right now!” she heard herself tell him, but her voice sounded like it was detached from her being. The strange, searing pain actually freed her from all inhibitions, leaving her in a puddle of feelings and primal urges that blew common sense right out the window.

All she knew for sure was that Killian was right there, and he was all she could think about. The way their scents mingled together in the truck’s cabin caused all of her other senses to light up, like she was a fuse ready to blow at any second.

“What’s wrong, love? Need some fresh air?” Killian asked as he pulled off to the side of the road and turned on the hazard lights. He knew that she probably felt extremely vulnerable, but had no idea what was going on inside that head of hers.

He did not expect to see Emma sizing him up with that lusty Omega stare, her eyes blazing a brilliant shade of green. The sight made him gasp in astonishment, a sound that he tried, unsuccessfully, to cover with a cough.

Emma spoke in a clear, confident voice.

“Killian, listen to me. I’ve been trying to ignore or will these feelings away, but every cell in my body is telling me exactly how to take care of the pain. It’s telling me that I need you…Alpha,” she admitted. Her voice shook as she used his title for the first time.

Her words stoked a fire in his belly that could easily turn into an inferno.

Killian hadn’t expected to hear her say those words…ever. He put the car back in drive, veering further off from the track-marked road, and parked. As the engine idled, Killian squeezed his eyes shut, wracking his brain for a solution that didn’t end with him giving into temptation. *This isn’t some random hookup, it’s Emma. If she was in her right mind, this wouldn’t be happening, mate* he told himself, cracking his eyes open as he took a deep breath to get his wits about him.

It wasn’t his best idea. The sweet scent from her heat had intensified, awakening a primal instinct in his brain and making his head swim with lust. He shifted in his seat, instantly hard as a rock. When she looked at him, he could tell that she knew exactly what he was thinking. Emma just smirked as she licked her lips.

“You can feel it too, can’t you, Alpha? I know you want me…I can practically taste it in the air. I want you too,” Emma told him breathlessly, in what was probably the most seductive whisper he’d ever heard.

“I’m honored that you’d consider me worthy of that kind of trust, Emma, truly,” he said gently, taking one of her hands in his and threading their fingers together.

“But are you certain? Completely sure?” Killian’s voice, while still quiet, sounded raspy and more urgent, like he was ready to do anything she desired of him.

“Yeah,” she breathed, nodding, and before he knew it, Emma had unlocked her seatbelt and closed the gap between them, pressing her lips to his for the first time. Her lips were softer than he could have ever imagined, and their mouths fit together as perfectly as he had always hoped they would. Adorably, she still tasted like popcorn and chocolate.

By the time they pulled apart for air, Emma had somehow straddled the console, getting halfway across and into his lap. They were pressed even closer together by the truck’s oversized steering wheel.

With a growl, Killian wrenched the seat back an extra couple of inches and lifted her the rest of the way, touching his forehead to hers as their breathing slowed.

“I guess we don’t need to bother David and Mary Margaret after all!” Emma giggled, brushing her hair out of her face before setting her hands on his shoulders.

“Trust me, they wouldn’t want to see what I have in store,” Killian replied with a devilish grin, reaching for her yet again. Their kisses grew deeper, and Emma raked her fingers through his hair while Killian’s hands roamed over every square inch of her body that he could reach, squeezing her ass with a satisfied groan. She responded by grinding herself against his lap, looping her arms around his neck as she went faster.

“Please…oh God, I want to come. Touch me, talk to me,” she moaned against him, bucking her hips faster to increase the friction. He nodded, kissing her exposed neck all the way up to a spot behind her ear that he had already chosen as his favorite.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this, Emma…I can’t wait to see you fall apart,” he whispered harshly against her ear, sliding his palm up her thigh and under her shorts before slipping two fingers into her heat, pumping and curling them in rhythm with her gyrations. She felt so perfectly tight and wet with slick that he had to restrain himself from rutting against her, choosing instead to press his nose against the flesh of her throat, breathing her in while focusing on her body. Emma mewled with pleasure, clawing her fingers across his back.

“Yes…Keep talking, Alpha, please!” she urged, riding his fingers in the narrow space.

“Feeling you against me makes me want to rip all your clothes off... I can see it right now, you naked and writhing against me while I’m deep inside you, filling you up. Is that what you want, Omega? Because I want you, have always wanted you, so badly…” he rasped, and she exploded seconds later, clenching hard against his fingers and coating them in her essence. She was unrestrained, shouting his name and his title as she shivered and shook in his arms.

It took a while for Emma to float back down to reality, so while she rested, he gently withdrew his fingers and licked them clean, unable to resist getting a taste of her sweetness. As she came back to herself, she could feel the soft press of Killian’s lips against her collarbone, near the scent gland all Omegas had right under the skin. It felt like the gland itself pulsed with its own energy, and when Emma pressed her fingers there, the whole patch of skin was raised and surprisingly fiery to the touch.

“Killian, I don’t know what’s going on! Feel here— it’s really hot, so be careful,” she fretted anxiously, cringing when he touched the pad of his index finger gently against her skin.

Instead of freaking out, he just waggled his eyebrows and flashed her a cheeky smile. But when the fear in her eyes didn’t go away, Killian’s expression softened.

“All that it means, Emma, is that your system is functioning exactly as it’s supposed to,” he told her, stroking her cheek. She smiled and nuzzled into his touch, but as she tipped forward to kiss him, the slight shift of her weight in his lap caused a deep groan to rumble up from Killian’s throat.

“Shit! I’m so sorry, Killian, I was caught up in the moment and I didn’t think-” she started to apologize, guilt written across her face.

“It’s not a problem, love. I’m the one helping you, so I’ll likely not go without,” he teased, and the look on his face — a bit of sheepishness disguised by a rogue’s smile — made Emma giggle, sighing with relief.

“That’s very true, although I might have put it a little differently!” Emma chided him with a playful smack on his chest, and they grinned dopily at each other, hair hopelessly mussed, and still reeling from the high of their new bond.

“So, while you’re still sated and lucid, we should talk about where we’re going to spend the next couple of days,” Killian suggested, reaching past her to grab his phone from the console. Feeling a bit self conscious now that the urgency had passed, Emma gave him a peck on the lips and scrambled back over to her seat.

“Killian, are you crazy? You can’t just drop everything for me!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Of course I can, Swan!” Killian scoffed, but when he looked up from his phone, the welling of tears in her eyes reminded him of how vulnerable she was feeling and how big a step this was for them both. “To be there with you, to aid you, would be my honor.”

She smiled, pressing her lips together as a rosy blush bloomed on her cheeks.

He reached over, taking her hand in his. “Emma, unless you send me away I will always be by your side, whenever you need me. Please, don’t ever doubt that,” he told her, bringing her knuckles to his lips without breaking their eye contact. She held his gaze, nodding as a shy smile played across her lips.

“I won’t, I promise,” she said quietly, almost in a whisper, but an intrusive chiming sound sent her scrambling for her purse. Killian was dying to know who had interrupted them, but not wanting to seem overprotective — even though his skin practically itched with the desire to knock the phone out of her hand, carry her into the back of his truck, and claim her as his own — he turned his attention back to his online search.

“Oh, it’s Mary Margaret! Guess the reception in this area isn’t so bad after all, buddy,” she teased, gently poking him in the ribs with her elbow. He grunted in reply, her light touch reigniting the spark of desire he no longer had to hide from her.

“She said that she’s got my stuff, and that we can come right over. What do you think?” Emma asked, her tone sounding conflicted.

“Honestly, I’d rather keep you right here, and preferably much closer,” he teased, squeezing her thigh with a wicked grin. “But will you need your pills for any, ahem, more amorous pursuits?”

Emma snorted at his euphemism, like she always did when teasing him about using big fancy words.

“Amorous pursuits, huh? No, I have an IUD for that, but I’ve never been off those pills,” she said, furrowing her brow as she thought it over. “But if they’re meant to suppress, wouldn’t they mute the things I’m feeling now too? I don’t think I want to go back, not if it means giving this up,” Emma said saucily, taking a moment to tap out a quick reply to her roommate before grabbing his face and pulling him toward her for the most aggressive kiss she had ever given anyone, tangling her tongue with his, and catching his lower lip with her teeth so she could nip it playfully.

Giving herself over to the desire to possess him, like he was hers, seemed to unlock an entirely new world to explore. Every touch and kiss felt more intense, and knowing that he trusted her enough to let her play, testing his boundaries, was more of a turn-on than either of them expected. “Did you know that this truck has a fully collapsible backseat?” Killian told her, sounding absolutely wrecked when they pulled apart to catch their breath. Emma chuckled, running her fingers through his already messy hair.

“Exactly what kind of girl do you think I am, Jones?” she asked wide-eyed, pulling herself out of his embrace. Killian opened his mouth to reply, but all words flew out of his mind when Emma rose up to kneel on her seat, reaching back to unclasp her bra. He watched, entranced, as the white straps began to slip down her shoulders.

“I think,” he began slowly, choosing his words carefully as he hooked his thumbs through each strap, tugging them the rest of the way down her arms as she gasped. “I think that I’m one lucky bastard to have such a sexy, gorgeous woman in my truck. And you’ve got your Alpha all alone in the woods, willing and ready to do your bidding. That means you should feel free to share every dirty little desire you can imagine, so that I can do whatever it takes to keep you satisfied,” he told her huskily, gratified to see her shiver.

Emma just stared at him hungrily, letting her bra drop down onto the seat. Her white tank top left barely anything to the imagination; it was just a flimsy piece of nearly sheer cotton that barely concealed her taut nipples, straining against the fabric as they were.

“Like my own personal, hmm...boy toy?” she teased, leaning against the console on her elbows to give him an eyeful of her cleavage. His jaw slackened at the sight of her heaving chest, all of that flushed, soft skin pushed up by her forearms.

He wanted to bury his face right there and her smirk confirmed that she knew it, so he raised one cocky eyebrow. “I assure you, love, I am anything but a boy…”

She chuckled, hopping into the back and beckoning for him to join her. Emma barely had time to grab her blanket to spread over the backseat before he opened the door and lunged for her, nearly ripping her top and shorts off in his urgency to feel more of her. She yelped, dragging him forward so he could shut the back door and release whatever mechanism was responsible for flattening the backseat rests. They toppled back with a bang, and Killian clutched her to his chest, an overwhelming instinct to protect her overriding every other thought in his head.

“Killian, it’s starting to hurt again,” she whimpered, looking at him with wide eyes full of desire and fear. He couldn’t help himself, bending his head to kiss her gently, trying to chase away even a fraction of her discomfort.

“Don’t worry, love,” he murmured tenderly, helping her to lie down comfortably before shucking his shirt and jeans off and throwing them into the front seat. “Just let me take care of you first, and then we’ll decide what happens next together, yeah?”

She nodded as he settled next to her, silently placing her trust in his hands as she cupped his face in hers. The look in her eyes caused his heart to swell with pride, but the jumble of anticipation and nerves made him freeze up for a moment, unsure of what to do first. Luckily, Emma acted on instinct, parting her thighs and panting his name, and Killian was drawn in like a magnet, tangling his fingers in her hair as he kissed her. Tongues dueling for control, their kisses grew frantic and he pressed even closer, groaning at the feeling of her breasts pressed against his bare chest.

“You’re so warm, Alpha. I want you inside me so badly…” she crooned, hooking her thigh over his hip, her desire to be joined clear from the slick that soaked through her underwear to run freely between her thighs. Killian clenched his jaw, trying to hang on to a scintilla of control instead of mindlessly plowing into her. That thread snapped when she reached into his boxers and stroked his cock with a firm grip, tugging the cotton down his hips with her free hand.

“This belongs to me now,” she rasped, continuing to pump his length as she swiped her thumb over the sensitive tip, smirking triumphantly when he shook with a groan he was too far gone to suppress.

“Bloody fuck, Omega, you’re impossible to resist a second longer..” he growled possessively, and with one last nod from her, he ripped her underwear from her body and eased his way inside her, filling her up until they were both left cursing and gasping with relief.

“Oh my God, this is perfect. You feel so perfect,” Emma purred contentedly as unexpected tears gathered in her eyes. Eager to get even closer, she locked her ankles against his lower back, using her legs to draw him in just a little deeper.

“You…you’re the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met, Emma,” he breathed, wiping a few errant tears off her cheeks. He shifted his hips experimentally within the limited range of motion he had available. Every slight movement had her making the most delicious sounds, lubricating his cock in her impossibly warm depths.

Killian wasn’t quite sure if she was holding him in like that for physical or emotional reasons, so he guessed it was probably a mix of the two. Since he had promised to be there for whatever Emma needed, it didn’t matter; he didn’t intend to let her down.

“There’s something I never told you,” she whispered after a few moments had passed, unwinding her ankles and letting her knees fall open. A simple roll of her hips told him that it was ok to start moving, but he kept his thrusts shallow, enjoying the sweetness of her scent and the press of her skin against his.

“You can me anything,; I’m right here, Omega,” he assured her, pressing their foreheads together as their bodies rose and fell in rhythm. The fact that she was letting him care for her this way meant so much more than he could have ever imagined.

Emma began her confession haltingly, trying to find the right words. “It’s just that, well— I’ve never been knotted before. I never wanted it before, but… but with you, it’s like I need it, desperately,” she admitted, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Look at me, Emma, please,” he croaked, going still inside of her. When their eyes locked, he kissed her, gently biting her bottom lip when he pulled away. He began moving again, lengthening his strokes as he gradually increased their pace.

“There is nothing I want more than to give that to you, love, but not in the truck,” he told her, almost apologetically. “I’ve never experienced anything like this before, honestly. Maybe it’s because of you and your insatiable need, hmm….”

She whimpered, grinding her pelvis against his. Her fingers threaded through his hair as she kissed him deeply, eventually dragging him down closer to her chest.

Eagerly, he kissed his way across the valley between her breasts, biting down on a stiff nipple with each pass. His worship of her body nearly drove Emma over the edge again, her pants turning into staccato cries as she thrashed beneath him.

“Fuck, your tits are perfect, just like the rest of you…” he muttered, lowering himself to his forearms so he could squeeze each one, sucking her nipples and gently biting the rounded flesh like he wanted to brand her with his mark.

“Harder, I can take it… I’m so, so close, Alpha!” she cried out, gripping his biceps so hard that her fingernails nearly cut into his skin.

Killian grunted, using the pain to help him concentrate on pounding into her like she wanted, while trying to stave off his knot.

He didn’t want her first experience of that particularly mind-numbing pleasure to happen in the backseat of his truck.

“Are you gonna come for your Alpha? Show me how hard you can squeeze my cock,” he rumbled, feeling his orgasm start to build as a gush of her slick coated his base.

“Ohmigod…Alpha…YES!!” Emma screamed, clamping down tight on his cock as she launched into the stratosphere, her orgasm last longer than she’d ever experienced before.

He followed with a shout moments later, filling her up with his release as her aftershocks fluttered against his sensitive skin.

“Killian, that was amazing,” Emma purred as he rolled to the side, scooping her into his arms. She had a wide, lazy smile on her face as she burrowed tightly against his side, scratching her fingers through his chest hair.

“I think we make quite the team,” he told her fondly, kissing the top of her head. He let his head fall back onto the blanket, looking up at the truck’s ceiling. “I can hardly wait to get you into a nice big bed, and show you all of the other ways I can get you to come.”

The way his voice lowered seductively sent a surge of arousal straight to her core. Emma felt a wave of slick dampen her thighs, surprised that she could want his body again so soon.

“Where should we go? I want to have you again, already — maybe in the shower…” she suggested, grabbing his wrist and brushing his fingers against her brand new wetness.

Killian groaned when he felt the slick between her thighs, almost thrown into a mindless sex haze himself at the thought of how full of their combined releases her channel was.

He allowed himself the indulgence of slipping one finger into her dripping center, dying to find out what they tasted like together.

“We’re so fucking good together, Omega, just like I knew we would be — tastes like nectar from the gods. Take a taste, then we’re getting dressed. There may be an available room back at school by now.” he told her, gently slapping her ass before they sat up.

Emma grabbed his finger and drew the tip into her mouth, sucking experimentally.

She’d given a couple of blowjobs to Neal back in high school, and she remembered swallowing quickly, disliking the bitter aftertaste.

With Killian, she was sure it’d be much better, and she was right; the fluid was sweet and pleasantly salty, like the ocean on a sunny day. She darted her tongue out, and was licking his finger clean when she caught a glimpse of him staring at her, transfixed.

“You’re a real minx, aren’t you, Swan? C’mere,” he beckoned, his lopsided grin making her feel warm inside.

Emma shuffled a few inches over on her knees, and was rewarded with a passionate, mind-numbing kiss. It left her in a daze, accepting the clothes he handed her and dressing herself like her brain was on autopilot.

#####

***CHAPTER 2 COMING SOON***

Thanks and hugs to my CSMM enablers 😏

Tag list (happy to add or delete on request): @kmomof4, @undercaffinatednightmare @ultraluckycatnd @jrob64 @justanother-unluckysoul @jonesfandomfanatic @caught-in-the-filter @hollyethecurious @holdingoutforapiratehero @mie779 @booksteaandtoomuchtv @the-darkdragonfly @sailtoafarawayland @djlbg @eddisfargo

#cssns23 #cs ff #cs au #captain swan #alpha beta omega #omegaverse #a/b/o universe #ouatedit #cs fanfic #cs smut #best friends to lovers #alpha!killian #omega!emma #no werewolves #some angst #cs whump #happily ever after

[tildeathiwillwrite]

All-Reliable: Fake Fainting Trick

Whumpril Day 1 (Limp), Day 5 (Reckless)

Now time to finish up Whumpril! :D

Whumpril Prompts List

The Legend of Orian Goldeneye Masterpost

TW: attempted mugging, collapse, head injury

-----

Killian nervously fiddled with his bag strap as he stole through the darkened streets of Iron Hollow. It was as confusing as Saint’s Shoal, and he couldn’t help but suspect he’d taken a wrong turn somewhere. The streets at night all looked the same. At least he’d gotten all the necessary supplies before getting lost.

He kept his head down as he passed a shadowy alley between two buildings.

“Hey you.”

Killian stiffened but kept walking, thinking of potential excuses for why he was out so late. He wished Jas was there.

“I’m talking to you!” Someone grabbed his shoulder and roughly turned him around.

“Look,” Killian stammered, “I’m not looking for trouble, but my sister’s sick—”

The person who’d grabbed him, a man a little older than Killian, barked a harsh laugh. “A likely story!” Light from the nearby streetlamp glinted off something in his other hand—a sharp, thin knife. “Everything in the bag, or I’ll cut it off your corpse.”

Two others emerged from the alley. Killian’s eyes darted between his three assailants. They all wore dark clothing—stained leather, maybe?—one had an unstrung bow strapped to his back, and all had swords. He recalled Diana saying something about how rare and expensive black leather was on this side of Atai, something about the dye?

“You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked softly, heart hammering in his ears.

The pair behind the man glanced at each other, but the man who’d grabbed Killian shrugged. “So what if we are? Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Killian forced a smirk. “You’re in a dreamshaper-controlled city, gentlemen.” With those hopefully ominous words, his knees buckled, and he went limp, collapsing to the ground. His head slammed into the hard stone, pain shooting through his skull, but he managed to keep himself from crying out.

Above, all three attackers cursed and fled, the sound of their retreat fading into the night. Killian slowly pushed himself to a sitting position and touched his hand to the side of his head. No blood, but a hard lump was already forming. He gritted his teeth, head throbbing with every heartbeat.

He could already hear Diana scolding him for doing something so reckless. But it worked, didn’t it? Jas would argue, it’s what I would do.

Leaning heavily against the nearest wall, Killian forced himself to his feet and began walking again. Hopefully, he wouldn’t encounter any actual dreamshapers before he found his way out of Iron Hollow. The last thing any of them needed was another kidnapping.

@fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @whumpril @pigeonwhumps

#my writing #whumpril2024 #whumprilday1 #limp #mugging #attempted mugging #fake whump #head injury #concussion #collapse #killian cory #writing snippet #whumprilday5 #reckless

[piracytheorist]

Whump Ask!!! 10 + 22!

10. Have you ever experienced anything you put your whumpees through?

Uhm... sore throat from voice misuse? I remember distinctly going to an amusement park when I was ten, then my throat hurting the next day because I'd screamed a lot (out of fun, but still) so like, I bring myself back to any case I've felt that when I write my whumpees having a sore throat after they've spent a lot of time screaming. That's not very specific, I know, but another example that actually inspired me to write something was when I witnessed a close friend's severe panic attack. Severe to the point they needed a hospital and even with a light sedative it took them hours to come to. Idk how wrong it was for me to be inspired to write fanfic after that, but I was. I'll never tell them, of course, because I know it was a very difficult and vulnerable moment for them, but I'm not really ashamed of it.

22. Most controversial whump opinion?

I haven't yet received any commentary but I'd guess some people would be wildly upset at me saying "kid character whump is okay, even when enjoyed by an adult audience". I mean, I'm guessing most whumpers have been enjoying whump since they were kids, even if they were a bit ashamed of it or didn't know that what they were enjoying had a name. It's quite natural that kids who love whump will enjoy scenes in kids shows and films where a kid character gets whumped... and is it that wrong of those people to enjoy those same scenes when they get older?

For me it's even more evident currently, considering I'm back to stanning the character I stanned during my first years of elementary school, and the whump scenes I enjoyed (and got inspired by) as a kid are still enjoyable (and inspiring!) to me now. Should I feel ashamed by that just because I'm an adult now and the kid character in the specific type of media is still a kid character? Or even if I enjoy a kid character getting whumped whom I hadn't had any connection to as a kid myself and only discovered as an adult? (God knows what I've imagined Killian Jones suffering as a kid - and we never see direct whump on kid Killian in the show, only on adult him)

Like, of course I understand and respect that for some it may be a big squick. But I feel like all rules of whump apply here too; it's fictional, it's not hurting anybody in real life, don't like don't read, tag appropriately etc etc. I know that the whump community is very open and understanding, but I'm pretty sure many fandom people outside (... or even inside) of whump circles would want to hunt me with torches and pitchforks for having that opinion.

Send me Whump Asks!

#whump #ask and ye shall receive #killian whump #thanks for the ask! <3

[priscilla9993]

anything

Lovely! 😂 Just what I was asking for. *cues up song of anything you can do, I can do better*

#fr you did make me laugh #killian whump #ask and it is given