#and its harder for me to make slit-nose animals look cute (like bunnies) (they are cute but i struggle

[skunkes]

hi!!! Ur art is so lovely and I love to hear the things u have to say. would u consider smunker a truesona??

yes i believe so! More in his original colors (the dusty grey) bc I dislike that the salmon invokes Pale Whiteness as a person LMAO (directly adjacent to how people get disappointed in al's human form bc he's white and his fur selves are usually orange-brown)...

He is a bit of an exaggeration at times in the Stupid and Silly Cartoon Thingy department when its applicable (skunker eats bugs in furryverse. Im terrified of most insects, for example.) but I still consider him wholly me yes.

I think I could consider all my sonas like this (since I don't really give them differing personalities atm as much as I'd want to) but smunker is my favorite... I also know smunks have their own personalities as animals but to me its more ambiguous ykwim. Like. I have my dogsona, which is many people's species that gets them closest to looking like their actual self bc of the ears acting as hair, but I dont think im too much like what people think of a dog... ?

I have a kittysona bc ive been told im more like a cat but then I feel it doesnt capture what I look like as much... skunk is like. Well what is a skunk 🤨 (<- i know how skunks are but theres no equivalent of immediate assignment of traits like this other than "its the thing that stinks, stomps, and sometimes has rabies". Very good for the confused identity, in a cute round bouncy animal with small ears and pointy snout)

[icecubelotr44]

“Stay.”  (Whumptober 2018 Day 13)

For @la-vie-en-whump‘s Whumptober 2018 prompts.

What even are deadlines, anyway?

All prompts from last and this year: HERE Previous Days: Stabbed | Bloody Hands | Insomnia | Stop! | Poisoned | Betrayed | Kidnapped | Fever | Stranded | Bruises | Hypothermia | Electrocution

for Whump-etition, entry 1

Killian half expected the porch light to flicker on and off as if he were a teenager breaking curfew with Liam waiting impatiently inside.  He thought that his nosy neighbor might peek out from her curtain and chastise him.  There was always the possibility that one of his enemies was out there, biding his time and just waiting to make his move.

But Killian wasn’t a teenager, his nosy neighbor thought he and Emma were a cute couple, and… well, as for his enemies, he’d taken every precaution in choosing this neighborhood and this home.  And, after all, Liam was just inside should they need anything.

Until then, Killian was going to take another moment to enjoy the scratch of his wife’s fingers in his hair and the feel of her pressed up against their door as he, admittedly, made out with her like they were a couple of carefree teenagers.  If anyone had something to say about it, they could take it up with him in the morning.

“Killian,” Emma managed while he took a breath, “maybe we should-”

Killian slanted his lips over hers again before she could finish her sentence.  Emma giggled in a way that neither of them had been carefree enough in a long time to manage, so he continued his efforts to make her forget about everything except for him and the bubble of nothing that they could exist in on this side of the doorway.

Time had no sense of meaning as they lost themselves in one another, Killian with half an ear on his surroundings but no real notice of anything but the sweet sounds he could pull from Emma with just a little effort.  He’d learned them all before, would know them in an instant if he were quizzed, but it didn’t make a difference.  To Killian, drawing them from her was just one more perk to being in love with her.

“Come on, Casanova,” Emma finally managed, pulling back just far enough to brush noses with him.  “I want to check on Alice.”

Killian whined a little, leaning forward and chasing her lips.  “She’s been with Liam all night, luv.  The old worrywart would have called if her fever spiked.”  Before she could protest, though, he reached around her to unlock the door.  Emma wasn’t the only one who wanted to check on their princess.  He hated seeing any of his family ill.

The alarm wasn’t on.

The telltale beeping should have been insistently begging Killian to put it out of its misery, more adamant than Will Scarlet’s cat looking for attention as soon as the door was opened.  He was halfway through the steps by rote, plugging in the disarm code when he realized.

The alarm wasn’t on.

“Killian?” Emma asked with a quiver in her voice that he wanted to erase but couldn’t.  Not when his own hands were shaking in a way they hadn’t since he was a recruit being chewed out by his first drill instructor.  

He keyed in the emergency code that would summon the police and Will Scarlet’s attention, then pulled a gun he kept stashed on the shelf above the alarm box.

“Stay behind me, Sw-” he started to order when he smelled it.  The sweet, sickly smell of blood.  No.

This wasn’t supposed to happen here.  His family was supposed to be safe.  God, he’d made fun of Liam before they left for how vigilant he was being because it was supposed to be safe here.  It wasn’t supposed-

Liam was… God, his brother was…

Killian left Swan behind, taking the stairs three at a time once he saw it - his big brother’s hand, white and limp, outstretched but so, so still as it hung off the landing.  Liam’s eyes were mere slits, his lashes inky against his cheeks, but his gaze tracking the movements Killian made as he crashed down at his brother’s side.  Liam flinched away from the perceived threat, drawing a breathy moan that chilled Killian to the core but also buoyed him - if Liam was still making sounds, he was still alive.  

“Alice?” Emma’s voice echoed through the rooms - her whisper sounding like a shout for all that it moved the stillness of the house.  He wanted to quiet her; wanted her to run back to the SUV and take off for safety.

He wanted her to find their daughter hiding under their bed.

He wanted Liam not to be bleeding out on their floor, hot sticky blood coursing over Killian’s fingers as he pressed down.

He wanted this to be a nightmare.

“‘m sorry,” Liam managed, the words coming out in spurts of air.

Killian shook his head, pushing down harder over where the blood was bubbling.  “Shut up.  Stop talking.”

“‘liss…” Liam tried again.

Killian just pushed down even harder, the give of ribs under his hands terrifying.  “Shut up, brother.  Stop talking,” he ordered again.  His brother wasn’t supposed to be the one who… he was the one who should be put in the line of fire.  Not Liam.  Not Alice.

Never Alice.

God, where was she?

Killian snarled when a hand reached into his line of vision and plucked the gun from where he’d left it by his knee.  He didn’t have a hand to reach for it, couldn’t let up on the pressure he was holding for an inst-

“I’m going upstairs,” Emma told him, her fingers deftly checking the ammunition in his gun by rote before sidling around Liam and out of sight.

He didn’t want her to do that.  He wanted her safe.  He needed to know that one goddamned bloody member of his family was safe.  He didn’t want her to be the one checking the rooms upstairs.  He didn’t want her to find…

No, he couldn’t think like that.  Alice couldn’t be… she couldn’t.  Not his baby girl.  She was too little, too innocent to…

John had been little and innocent, too.

Liam’s weak cry was the only thing that drew him back; he hadn’t even realized that he’d shifted to kneel on his brother’s chest, desperate to stop the bleeding.  Desperate to keep one thing in his bloody control.

“Alice?” Emma shouted this time, her voice shrill in a way Killian never wanted to hear again.

God, no.  It just kept repeating in his head.  She couldn’t be… she wasn’t up there.  She wasn’t… his Alice was good at hide and go seek.  She never lost when she and her brother played.

Oh God, DJ.

He hadn’t had time to think of his son yet.  He didn’t have time to think about his little boy, now.  Everything was spiraling out of control and he was trying to hold onto some kind of sanity that currently felt like quicksand running through his fingers.  His brother.  His daughter.  His son.  His whole family.

Killian was supposed to be the one bleeding out alone somewhere, lost and alone with the only relief being that it was him in danger; not them.  Never them.

They were his anchor in the storm; they were his lighthouse, calling him home again.

“‘m sor…” Liam faded out, his eyes finally slipping shut with a tiny puff of air that made Killian want to scream to the heavens.

“No.  No!  No no nonononono!  Liam, you bastard!” he shouted instead, one hand sliding out from under his knee to slip over Liam’s pulse point, leaving a streak of bright red blood in its wake.  

Liam’s skin was cool, clammy, and utterly silent beneath the pads of Killian’s fingers.

Killian felt like he was choking, like someone had wrapped their icy fingers around his throat when he wasn’t paying attention and had begun to squeeze.  He couldn’t breathe.  He couldn’t think.

All his training must have kicked in by reflex, because he was pumping at Liam’s chest before he’d even realized his brother’s heart wasn’t beating.  One and two and three and don’t think of the shark song and eight and nine…

“Killian, she’s not here,” Emma’s voice stabbed him in the gut, an icy blade of sheer terror that nearly made him stop counting - nearly.  He risked a glance up, his hands still pistoning up and down as he counted in his head.

He shouldn’t have looked up.

Emma, his strong Emma who had faced down terrorists with nothing more than her determination to rescue him backing her, had tears tracking down her cheeks as she stood at the top of the stairs trembling.  Alice’s bunny was clutched to her chest, the barrel of his gun jammed under the ratty animal’s chin as if she were holding it hostage.

“I called her and I looked everywhere.  I used the safe word. She should have come out.  Killian, why didn’t she come out?  It’s safe now.  We’re here.”

Killian froze for a moment, his hands coming away from Liam’s chest as if he could reach up the stairs and tear the gun away from where Emma had it pointed - at her own chin.  She knew better; he knew she knew better, but everything was wrong.  The world had turned topsy-turvy on them. “We’ll find her, luv.  Just, just lower the gun, yeah?”

Emma kept rambling as she turned away from him, moving down the hallway out of sight and calling for Alice again, but at least the gun was pointed away from her again.  He could hear the crash of doors slamming open and furniture being moved out of the way, but he couldn’t do anything.

Nothing except count and breathe air into his brother’s lungs and try to keep the damned Baby Shark song out of his head - he didn’t need the reminder that his baby boy was out there somewhere, too.  God, he hoped the security team was on alert after Scarlet got the ca-

The door crashed open, guns pointed at him and loud voices and Killian was scrabbling with one hand for the weapon he’d left by his knee while the other kept beating on his brother’s chest.

The gun wasn’t there.

Emma had the gun.

“Stand down, Jones!” a familiar voice cut through the adrenaline and the hopelessness that was threatening to paralyze him.  He couldn’t get to a weapon, he had to keep Liam alive.  He couldn’t move, he needed to protect… he needed…

As if moving through mud, his thoughts caught up with his reflexes.  That was Robin coming through the door, ordering him to stand down. He could go back to concentrating on Liam.

Maybe Robin could find Alice.  She was a good hider.

One and two and three and Baby Shark do do…

DJ was never allowed to sing that song again.  Ever.

Ribs splintered under the heel of his hand, but he kept going.  Too many years of training and too many combatants felled in the field with him allowed him to ignore the fracturing of his brother’s bones under his ministrations.  He could worry about the long term effects of broken ribs once Liam was goddamned breathing again.

Liam couldn’t afford for him to falter.  Liam was dead if he didn’t-

“Alice!  Where are you?  Come out!  Cheshire!  Cheshire, sweetheart!  Come out now!”  Emma shouted again, drawing Robin’s attention away from where he was ordering his men to secure the residence.  Startled eyes met Killian’s own panicked and pleading gaze as Robin took to the stairs and crouched next to him.

“I can take ov-” he started, but Killian’s head jerked spasmodically to wave him off.  He could do this.  This, he could control.  One and two and three and… he couldn’t poof Alice out of thin air.

He couldn’t give his wife back their daughter right now.

Alice wasn’t there.

Liam was.

Robin nodded once, rising to stand when the door crashed open again.  He stepped down one stair, putting his body in front of Killian and Liam, making Killian’s hackles raise for a moment before he finished the cycle of CPR and bent to breathe for his brother again.  The chain of command didn’t matter right now.  What mattered was that Robin had eyes on him.  He wouldn’t let them down.

“Boston PD!  Stand down!”

Killian ignored the standoff behind him entirely, letting Robin handle the logistics and the jurisdiction of the scene as he focused on his brother.  Emma was still tearing apart the rooms upstairs, calling for a little girl Killian was absolutely sure wasn’t coming.

He was pretty sure that Emma knew that, too.

“Medics are here, mate; let’s let them work, aye?” Robin ordered an eternity later as Killian finished his ninth round of CPR.

Ninth?  Was it only nine?  It couldn’t have been, he thought wildly as John Little appeared from nowhere and hauled him bodily to his feet.  Killian would need to know for the after action report; he’d be expected to fill in the details leading to his brother’s… to Liam’s…

Killian hit his knees again, the hardwood lip jarring whatever thoughts he’d had from his mind as he reached for Liam’s hand.  He couldn’t lose his brother.  He couldn’t lose Liam.  He needed Liam to tell him what to do next.  He needed orders.

He needed his big brother to fix the mess he’d found himself in.

Hands tried to bat him away, tried to keep him from grasping at Liam’s cold fingers and intertwining them together, tried to keep him from holding on tight to the one person who’d been there for him for as long as he could remember.

“Stay with me, Liam,” he begged quietly, his own fingers twitching in the air as Liam’s body jerked under the power of the defibrillator.  “Please, brother.  Please, just… please.  Stay.”

He needed help.  He needed someone to tell him what to do.  He needed-

“Killian?”  Emma’s voice again, somewhere above him.  Pleading with him for guidance of her own.

He needed someone to help.

“Aye, luv,” he called out shakily, watching as the paramedics loaded his brother onto a stretcher and made their way to the still-open front door.  It only took a minute for her to be wrapped in his arms, their combined tremors making it hard to tell where one of them stopped and the other began.

“Are you going with him?” she asked into his chest, her voice almost muffled enough to disguise the naked fear in her voice.

Of course he was.  That was a ridiculous question.  Liam needed him; he needed Liam.  He needed to pester bloody Victor Whale until his brother was on the mend.  Of course he was go-

Alice.

Bloody buggering hell.  He couldn’t go with Liam.  Of course he couldn’t. What a ridiculous thought.  He needed to get to the office.  He needed a status report on his son.  He needed Scarlet to move Heaven and Earth to get his little boy safely within the confines of JR Solutions and into his arms.  Safe.  God, he needed one of his children safe so he could concentrate on saving the other.

She wasn’t here.  That meant she wasn’t dead.  That was the only line of thinking he could entertain.

“Killian?”  Emma asked again, frightened green eyes boring into his soul.

The hospital was safe enough for her.  With Liam within its walls, the place would be harder to get into than bloody Fort Knox once Scarlet had his way.

“Can you go with him, luv?  I need to find-”

Emma nodded before he was finished, stepping back and drawing the armor - that he both hated and loved seeing - over herself protectively.  “Bring our baby home, Jones.”

He nodded once before watching her back as she jogged out the door and after his brother.  Half of his family was in that ambulance; whoever Scarlet had on the security detail for it better be up to par.  He’d tear them limb from limb if they weren’t.

“Orders, Boss?”  Robin asked from his right shoulder, as if his men weren’t already on patrol and hounding the detectives on scene for information.

Killian shuttered everything else out, pulling his own armor snugly around him and locking the terror of the last few minutes into a box.  He was going to make sure DJ was safe, then he was going to find his daughter and make sure the world knew never to touch his children again.

Whoever they were, they’d just made their last mistake.

  @killian-whump @gilliangrissom @gusenitsaa @pirate-owl @nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable @ladyciaramiggles @cocohook38 @nonnyj @queen-mabs-revenge @eala-captian @crystalyte @kmomof4 @killianmesmalls @whumptober2018