#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

[happy-emmdings]

Blood/ MCR • Killian Jones, a suffering pirate

this song is actually about him<3

(I recommend sound on from the very beginning)

[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

[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

[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! 💕💕

[temptressofyourdarkestdesire]

Chapters: 5/6 Previous 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 V: The Cure

He had to get rid of the nightmares. He knew he had to. Although Emma hadn’t asked about them anymore he couldn’t miss her questioning glances every time he woke up from another one. He knew curiosity would get the better of her eventually and then he wouldn’t be able to shake her off with some made up story. Better to not let it get so far. The cure was still daunting but it was better than Emma pitying him constantly. On the bright side he would be rid of the nightmares once and for all, but he was still scared. Therefore he hesitated with going to Carmine. Then the perfect opportunity arrived. Emma was planning a trip with Henry and would be gone for two days. It was now or never. So he set off reluctantly after they’d left.

The friendly receptionist went to fetch Carmine once again, after Hook had arrived at the order. He was resolved to do this, but he was on edge. He was reminded of what had happened in the cell far too often and giving himself into the hands of his torturer once again felt terribly wrong.

“Hook, how nice of you to visit me. What can I do for you?”, Carmine said cheerfully.

“You know exactly why I’m here,” he growled.

“So you’ve finally grown weary of your nightmares. Took you long enough. Didn’t your girlfriend want to do it?”

“I don’t want her to do it. Now could we get on with it?” Carmine smiled.

“She doesn’t know you’re here, does she?”

“This is between you and me.” He hoped they would be done before Emma came back. He’d left a note that would buy him some more time. Hopefully it would be enough.

“Won’t she come looking for you? Certainly she’ll miss her little pirate after a while,” she said mockingly. Hook didn’t reply. Had this been a good idea? It was too late to turn back now, but her tone wasn’t making him more confident in his decision.

“I think we will find out, won’t we? Please follow me.” Carmine led Hook down the corridor behind the doorway. There were doors left and right and at the end of it a stair led upstairs and the corridor turned to the right. Carmine opened the last door on the left, next to the stairs. The room looked eerily similar to the cell with a bed on the right wall and two armchairs and a coffee table on the left wall, but it was a lot friendlier. The bed looked comfortable and there was a bedside table next to it.

“This room is for our clients and our staff to rest. There are more of them upstairs. Please take off your jacket and your shirt, I’ll be right back.” Carmine left Hook standing and disappeared. He undressed very reluctantly and put his clothes over one of the armchairs. Then he removed the harness for his hook. He really hated doing that, because it made him feel helpless and vulnerable. Carmine returned with another vial, but the same dagger as last time.

“Here.” She handed him the vial. Knowing what it contained he didn’t hesitate and drank it. Unsurprisingly it had the iron taste of blood. Carmine had propped up some cushions and motioned for him to get onto the bed. He sat down and was glad that he was more in a sitting position than lying.

“This is the last opportunity to back out. Are you really sure you want to do this?” The concerned tone of her voice surprised Hook. As if she’d sensed his surprise she told him:

“Look, I won’t say I’m not going to enjoy that, but I’m here in my healing function and I will try to make this as painless as possible.”

“Why?”

“Unlike you we don’t bear grudges. I caught you spying, I punished you and we’re done. In my view you’re here because you need help and I’ll help as best as I can.” Suddenly the anger Hook had felt when he first met Carmine in Storybrooke flared up.

“It was a hell of a punishment and it’s still going on!”

“The only other option was killing you, besides I’m not the only one who hurt you.” She’d laid her hand on Hook’s shoulder to calm him down and obviously sensed the wounds left by Hades.

“Someone messed you up pretty good.”

“Yeah, that was literally in hell,” he snarled. She’d moved her hand to the spot where Emma had run him through with the sword. He winced at the memory and the touch.

“You should be dead.” Carmine sounded surprised.

“How are you alive?”

“Divine intervention.” Carmine started to laugh.

“What’s so funny about that?” His anger was fading and made way for confusion.

“Well, for a start...” Carmine was still chuckling and held her hands up in front of Hook.

“...they could’ve brought you back with two hands. And they didn’t have to bring you back with poison in your blood. They could’ve cured you. They really have a strange kind of humour.” She shook her head in disbelief.

“Are you ready to start?”

Hook nodded and braced himself. Carmine took the dagger and opened the wound with a clean cut. This cut was a little deeper then the first time and the blood started to trickle out of the wound immediately. Hook had grabbed the sheet and clenched his teeth. The cut was stinging, but he hadn’t to worry about that for too long. Shortly after Carmine cut open the scar, his body felt as if something was pulled out of him that desperately clung to him. Every vein felt as if something had dug claws in them and held on for dear life. It was agonizing. He barely noticed how his chest got sticky with blood and that he started to shake uncontrollably after some time. Then Carmine healed the cut and the pain almost vanished. It was still there, but it felt like a faint memory of what he’d felt just seconds before. In exchange he was feeling now the full extent of the blood loss and the strange sensation of the potion that replenished his blood supply. He felt awful and he knew it would get worse.

“I will give you some time and then we will have to do that again.” It was too late to do anything else now anyway.

“How long will it take?”

“How long? Are you in a hurry? Do you have anywhere to be? It will take as long as the first time, so three days. And before you ask; it’s not possible to speed things up, if you want to survive this.” Three days. He closed his eyes. Emma was only gone for two days, maybe two and a half. He could only hope she wouldn’t come looking for him. He didn’t want her to see him like that. It was better to worry about Emma than to think about the fact that that also meant that he would have to spend another three days in agony.

Carmine repeated the cutting and healing a few times and slowly the poison started to withdraw from his limbs only to wreak even more havoc in the rest of his body. He lost track of time and how many times the wound had been ripped open and healed. The pain in his body grew with every cut. The poison fought with fervour against its undoing. At one point it got so bad that Hook fought Carmine with hand and feet, when she tried to cut him once more. He knew they had to go on, but he just couldn’t. He cried and wailed and tried to push her away. She had to use her whole strength to push him down and slice the scar open again.

“I’ll have to tie you to the bed, if you don’t calm down.” Her words where lost in his screams, when even more blood flowed out of the wound. His chest, part of his pants and the bed where covered with dried and fresh blood by now. He should’ve fainted from the pain or the blood loss hours ago, but the poison kept him awake.

Some hours later the pain in his body started to fade gradually. It was still burning like fire, but compared to the agony he’d felt in the worst moments, it became almost bearable. It looked like he’d soon overcome the poison. All would be well.

Then suddenly the door flung open and there stood Emma.

[laianely]

For all fans of whump with Killian. Especially for @killianjonesz )

[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​ 

[ouatprompts]

Once upon a time, there was an enchanted forest...

And within that forest, where all the tales came true, the fairytale characters we all know and love, writhed and cried in agony. Snow White bit the apple and never awoke; Prince Charming’s horse fell waylaid by the side of the road, and Belle danced away the night in her cell – until her feet bled and with only a shadow to hold her. In other words:

Welcome to Whumptober: Once upon a time edition.

Below you will find a series of prompts and alternative prompts for the month of October. Each day of the week has been split into topical subsections, ranging from medical monday to supernatural saturday. For each individual day of the month, you will have three 'prompts': two buzz words and one quotation. You are under no obligation to fulfil all three prompts for the day's assignment - just one will do! If you don't like the look of any of the day's prompts, or find anything too triggering, we have also provided ten alternative prompts for you to switch in and out! It's super important that we all have loads of fun above all else, so just write what you can <3

This is general ouat challenge, and as such we welcome any and all ships and characters. We won't tolerate any hateful behaviour, and we ask that you keep any anti-ship/character content moderated or pre-warned. That being said, we'd love to see what everyone creates so please feel free to tag us in your creations!

We created our edition of ouat whumptober for a discord server, but things are always far more fun in numbers! If anyone is interested in joining our server, please feel free to message us for more information <3. Our discord server follows much the same policies as this event, and is open to any ships and characters, from captain swan to swan queen! We're also planning on creating a fluffuary event for February, so please let us know if that's something you'd be interested in!

Now let's go torture our favourite characters! 😈

[aceofwhump]

Whumptober 2023

Day 31: Alternate - Broken

Once Upon A Time 2x12

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

[stubblesandwich]

You have to help me, Swan!

Your family needs you.

If anyone deserves to go to the Underworld, it's me.

Clearly still thinking about S5 in the year of our Lord 2025. Made with ardent love for the birthday girl, @the-ginger-avenger 😘

[colinoeyebrows]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ONE OF THE KINDEST/WONDERFUL PEOPLE I KNOW, HAPPY BDAY SHARI (@killian-whump) !!!!!! Hope you will have the most amazing day hun. PS I never thought I would make a whump gifset haha so hope you will like it:D! Thanks for being an amazing friend!!! Sending a lot of love and hugs on your bday <3333!!! LOVE YOU!!!!

[chaotic-orphan]

The Immortal Hunter (6)

Read part one here // continued from here

*~*~*~*~*

Heath didn’t leave Killian’s side for a week after Felix’s party. On the third day that Killian stepped outside his quaint cottage on the edge of town, he smiled, bemused at the vampire who lingered on the stone wall across from his house.

“Do vampires sleep?” Killian asked that morning. Heath nodded along, enjoying the conversations he had with the human. It had been a while since he let himself have a friend, let alone a human one.

“Yes. We can sleep. I enjoy sleeping, I just don’t need to do it. Vampires are crepuscular creatures anyways so we—”

“Crepe— what?”

Heath blinked. “Oh, sorry. We’re nocturnal. We sleep at day and wake up naturally at night for the hunt. The opposite to humans who sleep at night and wake during the day.”

Killian hummed. “Felix isn’t nocturnal,” he said quietly.

Heath’s haze hardened as they came up to the gates of Felix’s estate. “No. Felix is an exception to many rules.”

Felix raised an eyebrow when Heath opened the door of the state house, Killian following behind. His cat-like eyes drifted lazily to the clock, a minute before the start of Killian’s shift. Hmph.

Felix greeted them in his usual cheerful way. Killian nodded stiffly, responding politely before dismissing himself to get to work. That left Heath as the object of Felix’s attention.

“You seem to have taken a liking to my darling pet,” Felix told him with a smile.

“He’s your employee, not your pet.”

“Well, he’s not as fun as you were. You could do it all. Employee, human punching bag, entertainment, blood source.”

Heath bristled when Felix slung a lithe arm around his shoulders, guiding him into Felix’s study. It was a beautiful room, and Heath could see why Felix spent most of his time in here. The walls on either side were fitted with mahogany shelves, lined with at least two hundred titles, all of which Felix had read. Some that even Heath read after Felix taught him how.

Dark oak wooden floors boxed in the lush, burgundy carpet that ran the length of the floor; the middle strip where Felix’s cherrywood desk stood proud, commanding the space. Behind the desk was the giant gothic window that opened out into the grounds behind the house. Heath remembered when he was helping the stable hand attend to the horses, feeling eyes on him and looking up to see Felix observing him from his study window. His proud head held high, arms behind his back, and even from the vast distance Heath could still feel Felix’s hungry, predatory grin on his face.

“Whiskey, darling?” Felix asked, disentangling himself from Heath and walking over to his decanter beside the two armchairs off to the left of the room, near the exposed fireplace.

“Why not.” Heath said with a shrug, following him to the armchairs and settling into one, staring into the flames of the fire. “You can’t touch Killian, Felix,” Heath said, the fire dancing in the reflection of his eyes.

The vampire paused his movements for a brief moment, a cunning smile gracing his lips. “Mmm. I love it when you’re bossy.”

“I mean it,” Heath told him, taking the glass of whiskey with a pointed look. Felix ignored it as he sat in the other armchair, staring into the flames. “The Hunter is protective of him, and if you get between that… he’ll rip you apart.”

“As if you wouldn’t love that,” Felix purred. “Such a shame that you’re leaving us to return your green hills of old.”

Heath bristled, shifting to get more comfortable. He felt Felix’s cat like eyes on him, studying him, everything he did or didn’t do.

“Well… I think I might be sticking around for a bit.”

“For how long?” Felix didn’t give him the time to answer, humming to himself, swirling the honey-coloured liquid in his glass. “Wait, no. Let me guess. Around… 80 years?”

Heath took a sip instead of answering.

Felix laughed. “And if I turn him before then?” He asked, his voice low and sultry. Heath looked at the vampire, letting his emotions pass over his face. “I guess you’d have to stay around forever, love.”

“Don’t test me, Felix.”

“Oh come on. You just need a little blood in you. Then you’ll lighten up.” Felix said. “I have blood on tap if you want it.”

“I’m about two seconds away from ripping your throat out.”

Felix waved him away. “You old flirt, you. Though, we do have to discuss your living arrangements if you are to stay here with me.”

“I’ll find somewhere in the village.”

“Nonsense.”

“I’d rather not stay here, Felix.”

“Well… that just won’t do, will it?” Felix asked, his bright eyes basking in Heath’s attention. “I’ll tell you what, darling. Because we’re such old friends, and because I understand that that monster inside of you will protect Killian at all costs, I have a proposition for you.”

Heath scoffed, nostrils flaring, because he knew exactly what Felix’s propositions were. Heath turned his eyes back to the flames, wondering vaguely if setting himself on fire would hurt less than whatever evil Felix had concocted in his mind. “Is this one I can refuse?”

“Of course, love. I’m not unreasonable. You always had a choice.”

Heath downed the rest of the liquid in his glass, savouring the burn in the back of his throat. “Alright.”

“I won’t touch a pretty little hair on Killian’s head, he will be the most protected human in the village. I’ll even spare his little family my wrath too.”

Heath nodded. “Okay.”

“But you have to understand, that that would mean I would be extremely bored, and you know how I get when I’m bored… so either, wow, look at me. Giving you options aren’t I so generous? The years have made me soft, Heath. Or maybe that was just your effect on me.”

“Either?…” Heath echoed, imploringly. Felix exposed his fangs over his lips, knowing he had Heath right where he wanted him.

Felix kissed his teeth, tsking Heath lightly as he stepped around to the back of Heath’s chair, slinking his arms over Heath possessively.

“You’re no fun, darling,” he said with a playful pout, lips beside Heath’s ear. Heath raised a hand, wrapping his fingers around Felix’s wrist, trying to dislodge the touchy vampire from him, but Felix just clamped down harder around Heath. “And you forget, I’m stronger than you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Heath’s temple.

Heath huffed out a breath. “Either?” Heath repeated, defeated.

“Either, you take up your old position for me, in place of Killian. You provide me with all the joy and entertainment you used to before,” Felix murmured, smiling when he felt Heath shiver under him at the mention of entertainment. “Come back under contract for me, and work for me again…”

Felix trailed off, running a hand through Heath’s hair and pulling his head back and to the side, grazing his fangs along Heath’s throat. “Or you go out and you enthral a sweet little human for me to play with while you protect poor little Killian.”

Heath stiffened under Felix, his grip turning white knuckled on the glass. The sound of glass cracking punctured the silence between them until Felix tutted and Heath relaxed his grip.

“That’s—” Heath stuttered. “You know that’s not even an option.”

“But it is, love. I’ve always given you the choice.”

“The illusion of choice,” Heath spat, his words coated with a helpless venom. Felix’s free hand roamed to Heath’s chest over where his heart used to beat.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m making concessions too. It’s so much more fun to terrify humans, the taste of their fear, the pounding of blood.” Felix tightened his hand over Heath’s heart, puncturing his chest with his claws. Heath jerked forward with a hiss, but Felix pulled him gently back. “Though I’m sure I could make do with having you by my side again. You always were my favourite, you know.”

If Heath had a heart, he knew it would be racing a drumbeat in his chest. His lungs would tighten in his chest, pulsing against his ribs at the panic that threatened to overwhelm him at Felix’s generous offer.

“And if I refuse?”

Felix sighed against Heath, nuzzling his nose into Heath’s throat. “Then I’d have to use Killian in your place.”

Heath froze under Felix. Felix’s fangs traced a line down Heath’s throat, already knowing what Heath was going to choose.

“I hate you.”

“I know, little one.”

Heath’s fingers curled into fists, useless. He knew coming back here was a bad idea, a terrible idea, but to think that Felix would trap him again like this? He got out, why did he come back?! Why!

“We make a blood pact,” Heath demanded, tightening his free hand into a fist on the armchair.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, darling.” Heath’s breath hitched as Felix’s fang drew a bead of blood in his throat. “Can I take that as a yes?”

Heath deflated in the armchair. He swallowed thickly.

“Yes.”

Felix hummed, delighted and sank his fangs into Heath’s throat. Heath bucked against him, trying to dislodge the ancient vampire from his neck, but Felix held him down with ease as if Heath still had the strength of a human. Heath hated the way he could feel Felix’s fangs draw the limited blood from his system, weakening him the more he drank.

Felix moaned happily against Heath, drinking every last drop with all the greed he wanted to. Heath was a vampire, he wouldn’t die if he was drained dry. Felix didn’t know why he didn’t think of this before. All the worries and limitations of humans could be mitigated with a vampire slave.

It was only when Heath let out a small keening whine that Felix pulled away, licking the wounds to seal them and stop Heath bleeding out. He didn’t even have to do that, it was more like a reflex than anything else.

Heath’s vision blurred, feeling lightheaded as Felix pulled away. He dropped the glass to the floor, which Felix caught before it hit the ground. The vampire set the two glasses on a table between the armchairs, smiling at Heath who was glaring weakly up at him through half lidded eyes. The venom must still have an effect on Heath’s body. Something Felix noted and stored away in the back of his mind.

“Oh, look at you,” Felix cooed, booping Heath on the nose. “Still as adorable as the first day I found you.”

“Fuh—ck you.”

“Still as feisty too.”

Heath tried to sit up, but his body felt as if it was cemented down to the chair in lead. Fuck. He hadn’t felt this powerless since… since he couldn’t remember when. He watched through half-lidded eyes as Felix cut a line over his wrist and Heath tried to push himself forward to reach the vampires arm. He had to drink Felix’s blood for the pact to be binding, to protect Killian if Heath agreed to be Felix’s fucking slave again.

Felix held his wrist out of Heath’s reach, his bright eyes shining as he watched Heath struggle and pant against Felix’s venom. “Come on, Heath. Just a little further,” he coaxed.

Heath shook his head, trying to shake off the numbness that kept his body still as the grave. He grunted with the effort, slamming his eyes shut as he moved forward, the world spinning as he fought against the compulsion to keep him docile.

“Come on, Heath,” Felix taunted. “Don’t you want to save that poor human’s miserable existence?”

Heath finally grabbed Felix’s arm at the elbow, pulling it down towards his mouth. Just before his fangs lowered, however, the wound healed and Heath glared up at the ancient vampire unimpressed.

A cold hand stroked Heath’s jaw. “Come on, darling. We both know it’s more fun to just take what you want.”

Heath swallowed, and bite Felix’s wrist, his fangs sinking deep into the flesh and drawing the old, recycled blood from Felix’s wrist. The blood tasted putrid and wrong, but Felix practically moaned above Heath as he pulled more and more blood from the vampire’s body.

A hand wound itself tightly through Heath’s hair and yanked back suddenly, pulling Heath off of Felix with a gasp. He coughed and spluttered, trying to get the horrible, acrid taste from his mouth, wiping the back of his mouth with his hand. Heath glared up at Felix who grinned, showing his fangs down at Heath.

“Good,” Felix murmured, thumbing away a drop of blood that was dripping down the corner of Heath’s mouth. “Now, dear. Only one thing left to do,” he said, and sliced his left palm, the gash going deep. Before Heath could protest Felix grabbed his wrist and did the same, before joining their hands together.

Heath hissed as he could feel the pact take hold between them, burning through his palm to the back of his hand. Tendrils of black ink-like blood traced a beautiful pattern from the back of his hand, up his arm and locking like barbed wire over his heart. He lurched forward, clutching his chest with his free hand, trying to pull his hand back from Felix’s, but Felix clamped his fingers down around Heath’s until the process was complete.

The ink-like blood seeped into Heath’s skin, burning all the way through until he was a sweaty, trembling mess, his hands still held by Felix’s. Felix’s hand burned with the same pattern, except the colour of the blood on his arm was a garish, scar-like white. The intricacies of the deal, the covenant, the contract, were scrolled onto each of their skin in the old tongue, a reminder of what they had promised each other.

When it was finished, Felix dropped Heath’s hand and studied the strange glowing contract on his arm. “Wonderful. Now, all done. It wasn’t that bad, now was it?”

Heath didn’t answer. He didn’t even have the energy to glare at the vampire. He shut his eyes against the pain that lingered like dancers following the brand up his arm. Heath’s breath hitched as he felt Felix’s cold hands were on his forehead. His fingers gently moving the sweaty strands out of the vampire’s face so he could see every twinge of pain, every after effect of the blood pact on the once human thing.

“That almost killed you, darling boy,” Felix said with barely contained glee behind the words. “You really would risk anything for a foolish human.”

Heath didn’t have to energy to fight back, but he couldn’t deny that Felix’s cold hands felt so nice on his forehead, and he leaned into the touch like a cat would a human.

“Oh, my sweet boy. I think we should get you to bed, hmm? I don’t you fainting on your first day back in my service, oh all the things we will do together, Heath.”

Heath groaned as Felix wrapped an arm around him and pulled him out of the comfortable chair, letting him lean all his weight onto the ancient vampire. “There you go, sweet boy. Oh I could just eat you when you’re like this.”

“Fuck— off,” Heath whined as Felix walked them out of the study and towards the foyer. The backdoor opened to their left and in walked a quick-stepping vampire, pulling garden gloves off her hands and smiling when she saw Felix and Heath. Then she smelled the blood, and suddenly Celeste was in front of the pair, red eyes locked on Heath’s.

“What happened?” She asked, her voice breathless. She saw the bite marks on his throat and her gaze cut into Felix. “What did you do?” She hissed, bearing her fangs at him.

Felix smiled an easy smile. “We made a deal, didn’t we Heathy?”

Celeste’s eyes went back to Heath, softening at the edges. She put her hands on his cheeks, tilting his head to look at her. “You idiot.”

“I know,” Heath said with a breath, closing his eyes at her soft touch. He didn’t want to see the pity in her face, but she would understand when he told her later. She would understand and curse Felix and kiss him and everything would be okay.

“If you’ll excuse us, darling, the boy’s a bit drained. I’m taking him to bed.” Felix said. Heath could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, so proud to have Heath under his thumb again. God. He was such an idiot.

“I’ll take him,” Celeste said immediately.

“Nonsense,” Felix replied already walking forwards, dragging Heath along with him. “I’ll be down shortly.”

Heath smiled at Celeste’s protests, his heart would’ve beamed at her care and love, but Felix was older than both of them, and older meant stronger, and Heath didn’t want the guilt of having Celeste hurt because of his foolishness, so he was happy that she remained in the hall, watching the pair as Felix helped Heath up the stairs.

Heath stopped in the room he and Celeste were sleeping in, but Felix dragged him on, further down the hall. “Felix, where’re—”

“Hush, dear boy. Just let me worry about everything, you shouldn’t trouble your pretty little head about it.”

Heath swallowed, trying to straighten in Felix’s hold and dig his heels into the carpet, but Felix pulled him along, all the way down to the door at the end of the hall. Felix’s room. Heath’s heart leapt into his throat, as he struggled against Felix’s venom injecting weakness through every inch of his body.

He hadn’t been in Felix’s room since he was human. It was the last place Heath was human, and it’s not a place he’d like to revisit, or filled with happy memories. It felt as if Felix had taken a knife and plunged it into Heath’s gut, twisting the metal as he opened the door and Heath was greeted with the familiar scent of the vampire.

It wasn’t like Felix ever did anything untoward to Heath when he was human, but he had a very strange possessiveness about him that Heath knew humans just didn’t. Some nights, when Felix didn’t leave Heath in his own room, or in the basement in chains for misbehaving, Felix would bring Heath into his room, into his bed, and cuddle him like he was a teddy bear.

It was so foreign a touch, so strange and upsetting. Felix would wrap Heath in blankets until he couldn’t move his limbs enough to cause any real trouble and cuddle him the entire night, his arms like iron chains wrapped around his entire body. He remembered not sleeping initially and Felix noticing this, and that was worse.

Felix would talk to him then, or sing softly in his ear. Or he’d drain him until Heath passed out, and eventually Heath learned to just sleep as quickly as he could before the vampire tried to do any of the other things to try and get Heath to sleep.

“Felix, please, let me sleep in my room,” he begged, his voice coming out high and whining. “Please.”

“We’re here now, darling, don’t worry. Here, sit down there,” Felix said, setting Heath down on the side of Felix’s bed. Heath gripped the edge of the bed, the soft duvet bunching under his hands.

“You did this… on purpose,” Heath huffed out, the world swimming in a mixture of colours that made him feel sick. Felix appeared in front of him again, taking a knee in front of the immortal hunter and grinning up at him.

“Did what?” He asked feigning innocence and tilting his head as he worked on unlacing and removing Heath’s shoes. Heath closed his eyes, trying to stop the world from turning but it didn’t stop the wooziness in his head. He groaned and shot a hand out, grabbing the poster of Felix’s canopy bed. “Oh, pet.”

“I’m not your pet,” Heath seethed, eyes flashing open. That was a mistake. Felix moved with unnatural speed, scooping Heath up in his arms and depositing him in the middle of the ridiculously big and comfortable bed.

Felix grabbed the duvet and pulled it up, tucking Heath into the bed. “Now, surely, I don’t have to stay with you, do I? Or tie you down so you don’t try and get up, hurting yourself.”

Heath shivered at the thought. “No,” he said weakly. Felix beamed.

“Wonderful. I’ll be downstairs when you feel better.” Felix leaned in, pressing a kiss to Heath’s temple. Heath turned away, but Felix just carded his hands through Heath’s hair. “I’m so happy you’re back, darling. I really have missed you. It’ll be just like the old days.”

Heath suppressed the whine of protest, opting to just stay silent and let the vampire just do whatever he wanted until he was satisfied and left. “Just call my name when you wake, sweet boy. I’ll come get you.”

Yeah right, Heath thought, but he just said: “okay.”

Felix beamed down at him, smile exposing his fangs and then he left. The heavy door shut and Heath flinched when he heard the sound of the lock. The bastard locked him in? Fuck. Felix told him once that he had made his house vampire proof.

Dramatic things, us vampires, he had told Heath one night when Heath was struggling to sleep in Felix’s bed, shivering against the monster. We like to break things and doors and furniture to make a point, so I made this manor vampire proof. Well, as much as possible. Ancient ones like myself could still destroy this place, but normal vamps? They may as well be human in this place.

So Heath would have to call Felix to come and get him when he woke up. Great. Perfect. Right now, Heath was exhausted and he just wanted to sleep. He could deal with Felix when he wakes up, hopefully after the venom leaves his system. Sleep came easily, his last thoughts were warm: at least, he thinks as darkness grabs him in its comforting grip, at least I saved Killian and his family from eternal torment.

[aceofwhump]

Hi Ace! :)

Do you have good OUAT whump fanfics? (Or any user if you know good OUAT fanfics)

They can be from any season!

Thank you very much!

Have a good day

I do!! They're gonna be all Killian Jones whump though. Hope that's okay. That's pretty much all I read (minus a few August Booth whump fics)

You Are Not Alone by scientificapricot Summary: Killian is injured in a fight with Zelena’s flying monkeys. However, he finds that he doesn't have to deal with said injuries by himself.

Don't Let Go (Because I Can't Hold it Back Anymore) by cosette141 Summary: (canon divergence for s4 episode "White Out") Rather than Emma and Elsa trapped in the ice cave, Emma is trapped with Killian. They have to keep warm and stay awake as they fight the frigid cold, or their first quiet moment together may very well be their last.

A Snowball's Chance by cosette141 Summary: After Emma rescues Killian from Hades in the Underworld, David and Snow tend to some of Killian's physical wounds, and end up healing emotional ones. (aka, Snow and David acting as parental figures for Killian) hurt/comfort oneshot

The Servant by natascha_ronin Summary: Killian is tortured in the Underworld by a familiar face.

Last Time by thoughshebebbutlitle Summary: The last time he had been in a hospital bed they had been completely different people. She had handcuffed him to the bed then, but now she waited anxiously for him to wake; the rise and fall of his chest was a reassurance that he was still alive.

To Take a Heart by MisfitWriter Summary: Set in Season 3, after the incident in the boathouse. Killian is left on his own. Zelena ambushes him with the intention to take his heart and force him to take Emma's powers. Our pirate is about to prove that there is one thing stronger than any magic...

We're Living in a Desperate Time (We Won't Give Up) by LadyofAvalon Summary: He knew he was in for bad weather when the Crocodile appeared and knocked him out again. It only got worse from there.

You can take the boys out of Neverland by WinkyCutto Summary: The Lost Ones don't like having to live by the rules and Henry and his family are about to find out that bringing them back to Storybrooke may not have been the best idea... Hook whump galore, you have been warned.

Pale by SignoriaSickFic Summary: Set in the 6 weeks of peace in S4. Killian catches a nasty stomach bug and, feeling sick, fails to answer his phone. Enter a worried Emma who finds herself playing nursemaid to her indisposed pirate boyfriend. Warning: mentions of vomiting.

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Whumptober Day 6

NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED | Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

Whumptober Prompts List | Masterpost

Fandom: Original Work

Words: 800

Tag List: @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion @scaewolf

@the-ellia-west

CW: cave-in, aftermath, worry, panic attack, blood, concussion, passing out

A/N: Get dual-whumped, my pretties, with the double-edged sword of emotional whump and physical whump combined >:3

----------

Killian paced back and forth at the camp, fiddling with the borrowed pistol as if trying to interrogate it for information. Perhaps he was. Information that Jas was alive. That she was okay. That she had survived the cave-in with barely a scratch, found another way out, and was just now on her way back.

The alternative was too much to consider even for a moment. Killian flicked the safety on and off, on and off.

On and off.

Jas wasn't the only one caught on the other side of the collapsing rubble. Killian couldn't remember the man's name, which should've bothered him more than it did. The way the others at the camp talked, there was enough worry for him. Not enough for Jas.

Should he even be worrying about Jas? She'd come out of worse situations practically unscathed. She had an almost supernatural knack for getting herself out of certain death, defying the odds, laughing, and cracking jokes in the face of danger. Killian clicked through the pistol's chambers. He'd unloaded it, paranoid he would accidentally fire it from messing with it too much. Given how everyone occasionally glanced his way, they still expected him to set it off without warning.

If Jas was injured, she would've found a way to get to him. To get a message across that she was alive, but needed help. No news was good news? He hoped so.

Killian wasn't sure what he would do if Jas was dead.

Although the thought crossed his mind briefly, it was enough for his hands to start shaking, his breathing and heartbeat to quicken. He sank to the ground, clutching at his chest, all the terror he'd been so desperately ignoring now flooding through him like a raging storm.

Throughout the vast majority of his memory, Killian had been around a number of people, for different periods of time. He had been with Jas the longest, having been an accidental companion since shortly after his arrest in Saint's Shoal on Somnia. They'd escaped from jail together, seen each other through the dreamshaper mess, and even traveled across several worlds through the power of a Jumper's Pendant.

To go on without her... to go on alone again....

Dying alongside her almost seemed the better option.

Shouts drew his attention, one of the scouts on watch sprinting into camp, yelling about survivors. Killian sprang to his feet and staggered, the sudden motion making his head spin and his vision tunnel. He grunted, pressing a hand to his temple as the dizzy spell passed.

Could it be? Could she have---?

He holstered his pistol and ran with the rest to the edge of camp, just as the survivors came into view from around the rocky outcrop. "Jas!" He yelled, running to her. He would have embraced her if she wasn't bearing most of the weight of the other survivor, barely conscious and bleeding heavily from a wound on the side of his head.

Jas gave him a tired grin. She was covered in blood, dust, and debris, her clothes were torn, and her hair a faded grayish red. "Hey, did'ya miss me?"

Killian could only nod as the scout took charge of the other survivor, taking his weight off Jas and leading him to the medical tent. "I..." he stammered, "I thought you were...."

"Dead?" Jas teased as she began to follow the scout. "I know I'm covered in blood and rock, but it's not my blood, and I've gone through worse."

Killian frowned, looking her up and down as he trailed after her. "Are you sure about that?" he asked softly, noting a gash on her forehead and the numerous small cuts on her arms and hands.

"I told you," Jas repeated, turning to face him, "I'm fine. Besides, he's worse off, and they should tend to his injuries before they get to..." she paused uncertainly, eyes briefly unfocusing.

"Jas?"

She shook her head, but instead of fixing whatever had come over her, the motion seemed to make it worse. She staggered, and before Killian realized what was happening, her legs buckled underneath her and she collapsed to the ground.

Killian cried out, immediately at her side. "Medic!" he shouted, shaking her shoulder desperately, "medic!"

"Out of the way!" The medic forced her way through the small crowd around them. "Help me get her to the tent!" she ordered, and Killian obeyed without question, cradling Jas in his arms as he ran to the tent.

Please, please be okay. We've gone through too much together for you to die from a bunch of rocks.

[colinoeyebrows]

'It's so Colin' for the lovely @killian-whump [source]

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