The Mermaid and the Codfish

Some time ago, I was asked how I’d tackle a soulmates AU.  I thought about it, and decided it would be an animal shapeshifter thing; soulmates can change into the same animal, but until they meet their soulmate, they’re stuck in a half animal form.  This proves to be very awkward, and I kinda love it.  This is going to skip around a bit as I cover various bits of OUAT canon.

The bird woman takes Emma’s order, and Emma spares her a smile.  The waitress returns it as best she can with a mouth that was half beak; her animal half was a near perfect division, her right side human and her left covered in brilliant blue Macaw feathers.  Her massive left wing sags with only a right arm to act as counterweight. When she leaves, her feathers brush against Emma’s hair, and her dining companion frowns.

“They really shouldn’t let someone like her work here,” he says disdainfully.

Emma struggles to keep her smile plastered to her face.  Her date is completely human; he’d found his soulmate years ago.  And yet here he is, on a date.  Having a soulmate didn’t guarantee loyalty.  She absently rubs at her legs through the elegant slacks; her scales have begun to itch. 

She listens to him prattle on about his favorite subject - himself - for a little while longer, before springing her trap.  And when her skip inevitably runs, Emma is in hot pursuit.  Her legs may have been ungainly, more suited to water than land, but she is accustomed to them.  It was only a matter of time before she’d caught her skip.

Her peers may call her ‘fish legs’ behind her back, but Emma Swan always got her man.

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This ABSOLUTE MANIAC managed to write a fish-headed Killian AU that somehow works and now I need to go lay down for a minute or two and think about all of our life choices.

Dreamshade (OUAT fanfic) | Chapter 5 - by @cosette141

There it is!! After a lot of work, and not so much free time sometimes, it’s done!!

So umh yeaaaaaaaaaah I might had a heavy hand on the dreamshade hahaha so #SorryNotSorry but for killian!whump sake, it was done lol

CS AU: Pan Says... (4/?)

A/N: This update answers a couple of prompts I’ve received, but for spoiler reasons I won’t be sharing the actual prompts. I WILL tell you that we have FINALLY earned that E rating, so I hope you thoroughly enjoy this update ;o)

Lots of love to @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4 for their exceptional beta skills on this one! You can still send me prompts, but I do have a pretty clear path of where I’m going with this fic now, based on the prompts I have received, so no promises!

Rated E /Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me! / Part One / Part Two / Part Three

Part Four

Emma cringed against the brightness flooding her senses as the cell lights turned on. Blinking past the pain searing her eyes, she realized she was alone in the bed and panic allowed her to push past the discomfort of being woken up in such a manner.

It didn’t take her long to find Killian. Stripped naked and strapped to a chair that had not been there when they’d gone to sleep, he had some sort of collar around his neck with metal bands securing his wrists to the armrests and ankles to the legs. Emma bolted upright and scrambled towards the end of the bed, only for the voice she had come to loathe with every fiber of her being to crackle over the speakers.

“Ah, ah, Emma,” it admonished. “Pan says, stay on the bed.”

Ignoring his command, Emma’s feet touched the floor, but she didn’t get any further than that when Killian’s features distorted. His hands gripped the end of the armrest and his toes curled up as the cords in his neck tightened in pain.

“Stop! Stop it!” she shouted, scooting back onto the bed in the hopes her compliance might end Killian’s suffering. The buzz of electricity she hadn’t noted before when his torment began suddenly stopped, and Killian’s muscles relaxed as a pained groan emanated from deep within his chest. Anger and fear rose within her as she realized what the demented little imp had fitted Killian with: a shock collar.

“Be an obedient girl or there will be more volts sent through his body,” Pan stated. “A highly unpleasant experience, I assure you.”

“Don’t,” Killian protested weakly. “Don’t listen to him, Swan. I can… I can take it.”

Before Emma could reply, Pan gave a fresh order, his words echoing through the room while appearing on the tv monitor overhead.

“Pan says, undress then lie back against the headboard.”

That was simple enough, it wasn’t as though either of them hadn’t seen her naked more times than she could count already. Emma immediately did as she was told, shucking her garments then reclining against the headboard with her arms instinctively covering her chest and her legs stretched out, crossed at her ankles.

“Good,” his taunting drawl praised, and Emma’s heart began to race in dread filled anticipation of what he was about to demand of her. “Now,” he began, his words scrolling over the screen before he uttered them, causing Emma’s eyes to fall shut in mortification. “Pan says, open your legs and pleasure yourself while Killian watches.”

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Lost and Found (Begin Again Sequel) (OUAT fanfic) | Chapter Three

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Author: cosette141

Pairing: Captain Swan

Words: 4k (this chapter) | 20k total (so far)

Summary: (Begin Again sequel) Emma had felt lost nearly her whole life, and Killian had lost everything he’d ever found. That is, until they found each other. With the Crocodile dead and Cora turned good, it seems happy endings have returned. However, new crises arise, threatening the budding family between them and Henry. But this is a family that always finds each other… and they have yet to fail. CS, Anti-Neal

AO3 (from chapter 1)

Chapter Three

Between the Morning and the Night

A Captain Swan Tale

After a workout one night, Killian’s close friend and colleague pokes fun as he points out the scratches along his back, sarcastically wondering who could have put them there and why. Killian refuses to answer for two reasons: 1) he will do everything in his power to ensure that no one ever finds out that he’s sleeping (read: in love) with his boss’s younger sister, and 2) while he happens not to mind the marks she gives him, he really isn’t sure why Emma Swan does that.

A/N: affectionately known as “scratchy emma fic” and “do swans have talons?” this fic features mild mentions of scratching during sex, plus some mild whump. My thanks, as always, to @the-darkdragonfly​ and @donteattheappleshook​ for just generally everything, but also specifically for their help on this fic and everything I write.

Rated E 

~11,800 words

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~~~~

She likes him. 

She likes it when he takes her from behind, when he lets her take control on top, when he drives into her with her knees cradling his hips. She likes it when they’re on their sides with him tucked behind her, she likes it when he’s standing at the foot of the bed with her at his mercy beneath him, flat on her back. She likes it when he takes her against the wall, quick and hasty and desperate with his need for her. She liked that last night, anyway. 

In all that he’s learned about her, the one thing that sticks out the most is that she likes him. She likes the way he touches her, the way he talks to her, the way he treats her. At least, he assumes she does. Not because she tells him so, but because of the way she clings to him, digs the tips of her fingers into his skin and scratches him because she can’t come up with another way to ground herself through the pleasure he brings her. And even though it hurts, he doesn’t care. He encourages it, in fact, biting her earlobe and telling her what the feeling of her nails in his skin does to him before he marks her collarbone and thrusts harder. 

She leaves his place later and later each time, delaying the inevitable need to return to her own for fear of the backlash she’ll receive if she spends the night out. She may be an adult, free to make her own choices, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’ll be on the receiving end of some questioning glances she’d rather avoid. But despite that fact, she’s stopped sneaking away when he dozes off. She’s even started to bid him farewell with a soft smile as she buttons her jeans. 

He loves her. 

He’s certain of it, although perhaps she would tell him that it’s too soon to be. And perhaps she’d be right. But he doesn’t care. And he’ll keep this fact to himself until the point at which he’s certain she can handle hearing the words passing his lips and pressing themselves against her tattered heart. 

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CS AU: Pan Says... (1/?)

A/N: This fic idea has been bouncing around in my brain for years, but I never would commit to writing it because I wasn’t sure I was ready for the potential of where it could lead. Fortunately, there are some terriblefic enablers on the Discord and they encouraged me to go for it, so here we are. I’m posting this for @cshalloweek​ because I think the overall feel is horror movie-esque and I already had the line “you’re trembling” in the fic when the themes were posted.

Lots of love to @ultraluckycatnd​ and @kmomof4​ for their exceptional beta skills on this one!

This fic is gonna play out a little differently in that I’m only setting things up with Part One. After this, I am opening the fic up to you, my readers, to help decide what happens next! Y’all can send me Asks with a Pan Says, including a reward/punishment if you’d like, and I’ll use those to write the subsequent parts. Nothing is off limits, as I don’t really have triggers and very few things squick me out, however, I cannot guarantee every Ask will make it into an update. I have no end game for this fic, and no updating schedule, so if that’s a deterrent you might not want to proceed. Also, I will do my best to tag for content, but cannot at this juncture supply sufficient warning of what the fic might entail in upcoming chapters. Please begin reading at your own risk!

Rated M/E (we start out mature, but I have a feeling y’all are gonna make it explicit real quick, lol) /Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!

Part One

There was a warm, soft body wrapped in his arms and a strange mattress beneath him. Those were the first half coherent thoughts Killian Jones had before the smooth, bare, feminine form began screaming and wrestled out of his grasp.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

Killian’s eyes flew open, the harsh beams of fluorescence overhead causing him to squint against their garish light. The thin material covering him was yanked away and it took him a minute to realize he was completely naked. Instinctively, he clamped both his hands over his groin in an attempt to shield himself as the woman continued demanding answers he didn’t have.

“Where am I? What did you do with my clothes? Did… did we… did you… What the fuck is going on? Answer me!”

Killian’s vision finally adjusted. He was in a room he did not recognize with a woman he was certain he had never seen before. She wasn’t the sort of lass one could easily forget and not because she was staring at him murderously with a thin sheet draped around her body.

“Lass, I–”

When she advanced, Killian sprang out of bed, using it as a barrier. He held his hands out, then remembered his current state. Plucking a pillow from where it lay crumpled, he held it over himself and began again.

“I have no idea who you are or how we ended up here,” he told her earnestly. “I am as much a victim in this mystery as you are.”

Her eyes, a vivid green made more brilliant by the violent inclinations radiating from their depths, flicked between his. It took but a moment for her to determine he was telling her the truth, and as grateful as he was for that, he wasn’t sure he would have been as trusting. Although… it certainly hadn’t occurred to him that she had anything to do with his current confounding situation, and now that it had, he was quick to dismiss the idea out of hand.

Marching towards the door, the lass searched in vain for some sort of handle upon its metal surface, then pounded her first against it when none could be found.

“Hey! Open the door!” she shouted. “Let us out of here!”

While his companion focused her ire on a new target, Killian took the opportunity to study their surroundings a bit more closely. They were in an all metal room with what appeared to be steel panels grommeted together. In one corner was the door the woman - blonde hair hanging down to her trim waist, her frame slight but strong, gorgeous if not a little bloody terrifying - continued to hammer her fist against, and in the adjacent corner was an opening that led to a toilet and sink. The only furniture was the large bed, fitted with pristine white sheets, but no additional blankets. Above were the fluorescents, buzzing obnoxiously, and a vent Killian could feel a modest amount of heat blowing from. His toes curled against the cold concrete floor, and his eyes snapped up to take in the small window high up on the wall over the bed, letting in a soft beam of light that was warming the tops of his feet.

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you gonna help me find a way out of here?” the woman shouted at him. Before he could answer, a monitor in the corner that Killian had failed to notice came to life with crackles of static blasting through its speakers and ones installed in the ceiling. A still, silhouetted image, the outline of which seemed vaguely familiar in a cartoonish sort of way, filled the screen as a voice greeted them.

“Ah, you’re both finally awake!” the voice remarked in a jovial, almost playful male tone. “I’m so glad. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you both properly.” Though his tone remained light, Killian could detect a note of something that made the hairs along the back of his neck stand on edge. “My name is Pan, and I’d like for us all to play a little game.”

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This promises to be a fun, whumpy ride! :D

Make sure to read all three parts, friends! I especially liked the bit in part 2 when Killian was all embarrassed over his visible reaction... It hit all the best CFNM buttons, even though she wasn’t clothed, lol 😉

Blood On My Name

In honour of it being my birthday today, y’all can have this; probably the most self-indulgent fic I’ve ever posted. Dedicated to two of my dear fandom friends @holdingoutforapiratehero ​ and @caught-in-the-filter​, because this fic is the result of listening to their angsty pirate/Captain Swan Spotify playlists almost exclusively for three months on my drive to and from work, and then scribbling down whatever random bits of inspiration and scenes I thought of - usually when I was nearly asleep at night. So if it’s a little disjointed, just keep in mind that I wrote the majority of it while sleep deprived lol 

And also a shoutout to all the “miners” for their help and encouragement as I try to write better smut. I love you guys a whole lot!

Thanks to @ultraluckycatnd for making this rambling mess of a fic a little more comprehensible.

Rated: M for mild descriptions of blood and injury, and also for smut

Words: 6k

Summary: Gravely injured in battle, Killian had resigned himself to dying alone, slowly bleeding out on the battlefield. That is until the beautiful angel that was Emma Swan appeared at his side to comfort him in his final moments, and Killian realized he was not quite ready to let go of life. But it is a long road to healing. A Captain Swan war AU, of sorts.

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Blood On My Name

Killian tasted blood. It gurgled in his throat, in his chest, but he didn’t have the strength to cough or spit. It should worry him, he thought, that it was so difficult to breathe. That he couldn’t move. But it was peaceful, almost; the panic he’d felt earlier had leaked out of him, along with the blood he could distantly feel pooling beneath him. Everything felt very distant now.

Through the high-pitched buzzing in his ears, Killian imagined he could hear a woman’s voice. He imagined he could feel her fingers at his throat, a gentle press against his slow pulse before her hand cupped his cheek. Easy, now. You’re not alone.

Killian blinked. It surprised him that he could do that, and that he could turn his head just slightly to lean into the soothing touch. He couldn’t see much, his eyelids so damn heavy he couldn’t open them more than a crack, but there was definitely a woman knelt beside him, her golden hair pulled back, her hand gently stroking his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but a trail of blood was all that came out, the liquid spilling across his jaw before the angel wiped it away.

“Shhh, don’t try to speak. Just close your eyes. I’m with you.”

She took his right hand, squeezing it tight. His left hand lay uselessly at his side, throbbing heavily at the end of his arm.

“Please,” Killian whispered, words slurred and slow, “I-I don’t…”

He tried to squeeze back, his fingers twitching weakly in her grip as a little bit of the fear returned, a little more awareness. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to go.

“Please.”

“What’s your name?”

He wished his eyes would open further. 

“K-killian.”

“Killian,” she repeated. He’d never heard anything more beautiful than his name on her lips.

“Don’t… don’t l-leave,” he gasped out, willing his tired body to fight.

His angel squeezed his hand tighter, a tether to the world, bent over him like a shelter as her free hand caressed his face.

“I won’t leave you, Killian.”

CS AU: Your Pole or Mine? (1/2)

Summary: Killian hadn’t really had a chance to make his neighbor’s acquaintance since he’d moved in a few weeks ago, but he had seen her often enough to know how very much he wished for an introduction. Not just because she was stunningly beautiful with her long blonde hair, bright green eyes, and creamy complexion, but because he felt they likely had quite a bit in common, given the odd hours they both seemed to keep. Her current predicament with her parcel might finally afford him the opportunity to connect with her in a more meaningful way than simple waves and muttered hellos. That is, until said parcel caused him to voice the assumption he’d held about her vocation; that her occupation might be the same as his own. Turns out the late nights, provocative outfits, and arrival of a fitness dance pole did not mean what he thought it did.

“You think I’m a stripper?”

Bloody Hell.

A/N: This fic was birthed from two prompt posts. The first from @wyntereyez​, who made this post and caused the #enablersunite members to begin calling out authors. @donteattheappleshook​ and me being two of them. During the course of a few spitballing conversations in the CSMM Discord, it was clear that a collaboration was in order. So, here we are.

I am providing the set up, which not only includes @wyntereyez​’s prompt, but the fulfillment on a promise I made long ago when @gingerchangeling​ shared this post, and threw out a prompt with it in one of the Discords (I don’t remember which), and @teamhook​ and @kmomof4​ wore me down into agreeing to write it. Better late than never, right??

The fabulous @donteattheappleshook​ will be following it up with a part two, so no need to yell at me when you get to the end. More (along with Killian and Emma) is coming!

Much love to the #enablersunite members - @teamhook​ (with an honorable mention to @thesschesthair who made her a certain manip to assist in her efforts. It was awesome, btw!) @kmomof4​ @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​ and others I know I’m forgetting, my cohort @donteattheappleshook​ (who helped me work in the fitness jokes), and @wyntereyez​ & @gingerchangeling​ for giving us such fantastic promptings.

Rated M (but that could get upgraded) / ~6850 words / Available on ao3** / buy me a coffee

**Unfortunately, due to ff.net’s guidelines, which do not allow for co-authors to each post a shared work on their individual accounts, this fic will not be posted to that platform.

~/~

Killian was wiped out. Looking forward to collapsing in his bed and sleeping the next day - well, technically, it was already the next day, seeing as how it was three in morning - away, he was none too thrilled to see the out of order sign hanging on the front of the lift, and the stairs leading up to his apartment blocked by a rather large box and a woman attempting to finagle it up the steps. Most of his frustration left him when he realized who the woman was, though.

The blonde goddess who lived next door.

He hadn’t really had a chance to make her acquaintance since he’d moved in a few weeks ago, but he had seen her often enough to know how very much he wished for an introduction. Not just because she was stunningly beautiful with her long blonde hair, bright green eyes, and creamy complexion, but because he felt they likely had quite a bit in common, given the odd hours they both seemed to keep. Her current predicament with her parcel might finally afford him the opportunity to connect with her in a more meaningful way than simple waves and muttered hellos.

“Need a hand there, love?”

The box slipped out of her grip, which also held the sky high heels he’d become accustomed to seeing her wear, and landed on the steps with a metallic clang chiming from within.

“Sorry about that,” Killian said, rushing over to pick up the dropped bundle from where it had slid down to the bottom of the landing. It wasn’t overly heavy, just a bit awkward in size and shape, and most likely difficult to hold onto, given her hands were already partially full.

“Thanks,” she replied, gruffly. “Ruby told me something had been delivered this afternoon and had put it in the office. I would have left it there until tomorrow, but didn’t want it to be in her way.”

Ruby was Ruby Lucas, granddaughter of their landlady who lived on site and managed the day to day operations of the building. It wasn’t unusual for her to sign for residence’s packages so they wouldn’t have to worry about being home during the delivery, or about their post sitting at their door all day cluttering up the hallway.

“You weren’t expecting a delivery?” Killian followed her up the stairs, the question presented to sate his curiosity every bit as much as to distract him from how fantastic her arse looked in the short, tight, black leather dress she was wearing.

“No,” she huffed. “I most definitely did not order that thing. My idiot boyfriend did.”

Pushing aside the sinking feeling in his stomach over the knowledge the lass was taken, Killian glanced down at the package in his hand and managed a chuckle when he saw what it was.

“I can see why he’s vexed you. A fitness pole might help to keep you in shape and spice things up, but bad form in him wanting you to bring work home with you.”

“Bring work home with me?”

They made it to their respective doors, and she’d just finished unlocking hers before turning to him with a perplexed expression that made Killian’s skin flare with an itching sense of awkwardness that he may have presumed wrongly about his neighbor’s vocation.

“I… that is.” Having set the box down at her door, he backed up and scratched behind his ear, gathering himself before making his confession. “It seems I may have made an error in my assumption that, because we keep similar hours, and the fact that you dress so… provocatively so often, that meant you and I held the same occupation.”

“The same occupation?”

She was still looking at him with her brows furrowed in confusion. When his eyes flicked down to the box, the silhouetted image of a woman wrapping herself around a pole practically flaunting itself off its side, her eyes followed and then widened as comprehension dawned on her.

“You think I’m a stripper?”

Bloody hell.

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Self-Promo Sunday: Descended from Delilah

Okay, first of all, let me make something clear: I am NOT deleting this fic from Ao3. I’m actually not deleting anymore because I just can’t bear to get rid of the fics that are left there. Now that’s out of the way …

Not only does this fic pre-date my tumblr days, but @sherlockianwhovian​ also gifted me with the gorgeous art above at Christmas. So I just had to share it here along with this fic that has a special place in my heart.

I was inspired to write this in a surprising way - after re-reading the story of Delilah and Samson in the Bible. Apparently, there is also an old saying that all women are “descended from Delilah,” meaning that women are all seductresses luring men to their downfall. Obviously, I think that idea is ridiculous, but then it got me thinking: “there are a ton of stories about women who don’t trust men because they have been betrayed, why can’t a man have trust issues due to betrayal?” I wanted to write something along that vein, and since I always felt Killian’s past hurts largely get ignored in fandom, I decided to do it in a CS fic. And what better scenario than a Captain Duckling tale in which Emma has been loved and nurtured her whole life while Killian has been abused and betrayed?

What was fun about writing this was taking each iconic Captain Swan scene and literally flipping the script, having Emma tear down Killian’s walls instead. Not to get too analytical here, but it really made me open my eyes to reverse sexism. We allow Emma to be downright cruel to Killian at times, and that was put into startling clarity when I put those same words and actions onto Killian. Therefore, writing this without Killian looking like a huge jerk was the biggest obstacle. I was really proud of myself for achieving it (at least I think I did!)

Summary: After being cruelly betrayed by the only woman he has ever loved, Killian Jones vows never again to trust a woman with his heart. Even if she is a princess. Even if she saved his sorry arse from the bloody dungeon.

Rating: T

Length: 10 chapters

Killian Jones had fallen asleep in the safest place he could. Or so he thought. Milah’s fingers carding through his hair, his head in her lap, and a soft sea shanty falling from her lips. His contentment had been complete. Completely misplaced, that is.

To awaken from that sweet, blissful oblivion into harsh reality filled with rough hands and cold steel was disconcerting, to say the least. His eyes were still a bit blurry from slumber as he was hauled from Milah’s lap and tossed across the cabin. His first thought was her and her safety, which spurred him all the more to fight his captor’s grasp. He pulled away from the meaty hands to find himself encircled by members of the Misthaven Royal Navy. And Milah … he expected her to cry his name, expected her to be fighting right along with him. But she wasn’t. She stood a few steps away, her face awash in shame, and only then did it dawn on him that she was part of this noose that surrounded him.

“Milah?” he asked, voice broken, still wanting in the deepest parts of his mind to believe that there must be some mistake.

“I’m sorry, Killian,” she choked, a tear slipping down her cheek. Then she squared her shoulders and dashed at the wet spot. “Move him over there,” she ordered, “hold him down.”

“What? Milah, what are you doing?” Killian’s eyes never left Milah’s face as he struggled in vain against two of his captors. They wrestled him over to the desk, and a third man shoved him forward. Killian grunted as he was held down by both shoulders, his left arm extended and pinned down. His eyes widened as Milah pulled a sword from the scabbard of the lieutenant at her right.

“Again, I’m sorry,” she continued as she stepped closer, “but the Dark One has my son, and I can’t get Baelfire back without proof.”

Milah’s voice was cold, devoid of emotion, as if she had to cut herself off from feeling in order to go through with what she was about to do. Killian watched in morbid fascination as she raised the sword over her head, as if he were watching this happen to someone else. Even when he realized exactly what she was about to do, Killian still thought that it couldn’t be any worse than the pain of her betrayal. But as hard steel sliced through sinew and bone like fire, he learned he was wrong.

You can read the rest on Ao3

Tagging some who might be interested: @snowbellewells​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @kmomof4​ @xhookswenchx​ @welllpthisishappening​ @let-it-raines​ @teamhook​ @bethacaciakay​ @kday426​ @superchocovian​ @shireness-says​ @spartanguard​ @stahlop​ @snidgetsafan​ @scientificapricot​ @optomisticgirl​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @nikkiemms​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @hollyethecurious​ @killian-whump​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @branlovestowrite​ @winterbaby89​

Oh, gosh! I have SO many thoughts about how you’ve described this fic, because I 100% agree with everything you said SO much and I cannot wait to read the fic now, and it’s already off to a brilliant start, and off I go!!!

CS AU: According to Plan

A/N: This ficlet checks off my Forcibly Stripped square on my @badthingshappenbingo card. It is heavily inspired by the opening scene of Honor’s Splendor by Julie Garwood, a romance novel I read over twenty years ago but have thought of many times over the years. Especially this scene. 

Rated M for language / ~1750 words / stripped, tied up, exposure / beta’d by @kmomof4​

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“You thought you could steal from me, you filthy, no good pirate?” Lord Baelfire sneered.

A brisk wind blustered through the courtyard with the promise of impending snow permeating the air. The guards restraining the pirate shivered against the cold as their master continued to pronounce judgment for the brigand’s crime.

“No one steals from this household.” Lord Baelfire, warmly wrapped in his finery of wool and furs circled the pirate. “My father would have me run you through and be done with it, but I feel an example needs to be set. We wouldn’t want our subjects to think us soft, now would we?”

Killian stood stoic and silent, an expression of bored indifference set firmly on his features when the Lord came face to face with him once more.

“Yes,” Baelfire drawled, an evil grin stretching over his lips and sinking the premature lines deeper into his face. “I think you’ll make for just the cautionary tale we need.” He took a step back and barked his orders to the guards. “Strip him and tie his worthless carcass to the stocks.”

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*giggles maniacally*

I want more, Ma’am.

Sucking Face part four - a Storage 24 CS AU

Once again: based on the movie Storage 24, in which Colin's character Mark gets his face eaten by a gooey alien. Killian is Mark, Emma is the alien, and this takes place after the face-eating.

Don't like it? Don't read. This fic won't appeal to most people.

Warnings: not as many as in previous parts, since Killian is bandaged and will stay that way. References to face-eating and other gory deaths.

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Killian slumped into Robin, the man's arm around his waist the only thing keeping him upright. But he was standing, and despite dizziness from blood loss and a heart pounding too rapidly to be healthy, he was going to remain that way.

Hopefully.

There might be a manly swoon and unconsciousness in his future.

They were going to walk across the city to the hospital. When Killian had asked why they didn't drive, Regina had just laughed bitterly.

Emma had run off, saying she needed to collect her things. She'd returned ten minutes later with a gelatinous mass of stuff she claimed was her equipment. She took a fist-sized blob that oozed and pulsed and attached it over her right ear.

The rest, she stored in a pale pink handbag with a bunny embroidered on the front. She reverently placed Will's heart inside as well.

"You're their leader, right? Can't you call off the invasion?" Regina demanded.

"It's not an invasion," Emma snarled. "It's a courtship, and we were invited. And do you carry a communicator when you are mating?"

"No," Killian mumbled, thinking about how he and Will had tried unsuccesfully to text Robin when everyone had disappeared.

Robin and Mary Margaret swapped weapons, since Robin couldn't use a bow while supporting Killian. He'd been reluctant to pass his beloved weapon over, but Mary Margaret displayed a surprising proficiency with the bow.

Emma trotted barefoot at his side. From the way her feet clicked against the tile, he thought they must have reverted to their true shape. She took his hand in both of hers, and flashed that toothy smile. "Like a human mate," she said. He didn't have the energy to tell her she only needed hold his hand with one of hers.

As they left the safety of the storage facility and into daylight, Killian flinched at the brightness. Bloody hell, it hadn't even been a day since they'd all come to help their friends (or abandon their friends to fuck, in most cases,) but so much had changed in that short span.

And, as they passed Killian's Chevelle (thankfully undamaged, but he'd need a professional cleaner and an exorcist to go over it and remove all trace of Robin and Regina) he saw why they couldn't drive: the wreckage of a fighter plane was blocking the entrance, and much of the road.

A wing had caved in the moving van Regina had hired. No wonder she was bitter.

"Bloody hell! When'd that happen?!" At least none of the burning bits had landed near the storage facility.

"Right after we escaped the facility. I'm surprised you didn't hear it," David said. "We had to run to avoid the debris. We barely made it." He sounded so smug that they'd come through unscathed. Big damn heroes.

"Sorry, mate, I was busy being injured and unconscious after my friends abandoned me."

Robin stiffened beside him. "We thought you'd died," he said softly.

"Whatever. Just get me to the hospital."

They began to pick their slow way through the shattered Storybrooke.

It was torture. Killian wanted nothing more than to slip into unconsciousness and let everyone else worry about getting him to the hospital. He didn't want to see the burning buildings, the twisted metal of the crashed cars...

The bodies...

Killian watched Emma out of the corner of his eye. She showed little reaction to the sight of the bodies, even when they came across the corpses of her own people.

She caught him looking, and flashed him an adorable smile that crinkled her eyes. Her bunny bag swung beneath her shoulder.

Bloody hell... He'd always had bad luck with women, but at least none of his exes were violent monsters... How was he going to get out of this? He really didn't want to lose any more body parts...

Sucking Face part one - another CS/Storage 24 AU fic

This is a sequel to "It was only a kiss," which mobile won't let me link to.

Warning: blood, gore, body horror, dark humor - this is an AU of the Colin O'Donoghue movie "Storage 24," in which Colin's character Mark gets his face bitten off by an alien. Killian is Mark, Emma is the alien, and this takes place after the face-eating.

Don't like it? Don't read. I won't think less of you. This isn't everyone's cup of tea...

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It was difficult to bandage one's head when you only had one hand and no mirror, Killian found.

(He could have used the mirror in the loo just off the office, but he didn't want to see...)

Instead he sat in a boneless heap against the wall where he'd fallen after Emma's first 'kiss,' and focused on covering the damage, his hand trembling with the strain.

Emma had watched at first, head tilted at an impossible angle, before wandering off to poke around. She was currently crouched on the service desk, disemboweling the computer and making a strange, hoarse croaking sound Killian thought might be a laugh.

Every once in a while, she'd hold something up and ask, "What is this, Mate?"

He didn't know computers, so he'd make something up. Not like she could fully understand him when he couldn't properly speak anymore, anyway.

He hit the end of the gauze roll, and tucked it in just below his crown (his scalp, at least, was intact; thank God, at least he still had his hair.)

Killian braced his back against the wall and tried to get his feet under him. Emma noticed and hopped to the floor, her feet momentarily becoming clawed and armored at the impact, before shifting fluidly back into human feet.

He managed to stand, but only stayed upright with the wall's support. How was he supposed to get to a hospital like this? Would Emma even allow it?

"I need - " he began, when Emma suddenly snapped to attention. Her eyes turned a pupiless yellow, and a snarl rattled in her throat. She turned just as hushed voices carried from the parking lot, coming closer.

"But what if it's still here?" Regina, her voice unusually high with panic.

"Better we deal with one than a whole pack of these things!" David said. "And at least this time, we're armed."

Emma's growl deepened, and her features began to change, her mouth opening wide to reveal far too many teeth.

"Love, please," he begged. "They're my friends. I won't let them harm you."

"Your pack?" she asked.

"Aye." His pack who had left him to die.

To be fair, he would have run, too.

They crept inside, David first, followed by Mary Margaret, Regina, and Robin guarding the rear. There was a bloody slash across David's chest that hadn't been there when they'd fled the storage facility, and Regina had clawmarks on her cheek.

David held the hunting rifle he kept in his truck. Mary Margaret had his service pistol. Regina had a tire iron. Robin had a bow and quiver of arrows from the archery set that had been one of the first things they'd removed from storage.

David swept his gaze over the darkened room, saw Killian and Emma, and fired off a blast. It hit the wall beside his head, showering him with plaster.

Emma roared and lunged forward, but Killian held on to her and they toppled.

"Wait! It's me!" Killian cried.

"Killian?" Mary Margaret cried, knocking the barrel of David's gun aside and running towards him.

Emma, now fully alien, lifted her head and snarled. Mary Margaret shrieked and skidded to a halt.

All weapons were trained on Emma, only Killian's presence keeping them from attacking. "Take your other form, Love, it will help them accept you."

Emma obeyed, and suddenly he was straddling a very naked, very beautiful woman in the middle of the floor.

"What the hell is going on?" David demanded. "These things change shape now?!"

"This is Emma... she's sort of my wife," Killian said weakly.

LMAO “She’s sort of my wife.” Like, that’s the most poetic way of saying “She chewed half my face off and claimed me as her mate” that I’ve ever heard!

BLESS!!!

Also, just in case that Nonny who was scandalized by me reblogging Hollye’s CS AU sees me reblogging yours now, I’d like to officially go on record as saying that Emma eating off half of Killian’s face is another way to get me to read literally anything your CS AU, too. Just saying.

Unbound - a winged!Killian fic part one

This one takes place during the season four mid-season hiatus.

This does have some ableist language - Killian doesn't view his disabilities in the best light...

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The first time Killian bound his wings, it had been almost a year after Milah's death and his double maiming. It had taken a long time for the fragile bones to heal, longer the damage to his arm, and every movement had been agony. So he'd ordered Smee to lash them together to stabilize them.

But then the bones had healed into a hard knot, and when he'd molted, none of the long feathers extending from the wing's wrist had grown back, leaving him with a wing half the size of the other, and a severe loss of balance.

At first, he'd fashioned a false wingtip of silk and wire, weighted so it balanced the other wing. The silk had been beautifully embroidered to match his waistcoats, transforming his wing into a work of art.

But the splendor didn't hide the truth: he was Pan's little broken bird, and his crew who had once regarded his plumage with awe and pride, now only regarded him with pity.

He'd made the decision to permanently bind them during a raid. He'd been fighting the captain of a merchant freighter, and during a feint, his wings had sprung out for balance. The false feathers had caught on his opponent's cutlass and tore free, leaving him off balance and barely able to evade the next blow.

The captain had taunted him, calling him half a man. Killian's blood had boiled, and his attack had become more violent, and remorseless. He'd cut the man to pieces, stunning his own crew and further fueling his reputation as a monster.

He still wore that captain's ring.

After, he'd designed the harness he still wore centuries later. It had hurt, but it was better than facing the taunts, the pity.

But now...Emma had asked if he'd consider stopping wearing the harness altogether.

They were in Killian's bed at Granny's. It was just past dawn (early for Emma, he'd found; she would have slept until noon if propriety allowed) and she was running her fingers through the downy feathers near his shoulders.

His feathers were starting to fluff up, and he grumbled in feighned annoyance; they made hiding anything from her impossible.

"Sorry, Love?" he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly.

"Go without the bindings," she said. "They obviously hurt you." She'd seen the flash of pain when he'd first spread his wings after freeing them. There were still pins and needles from the aching muscles even after a night of them getting a workout with Emma (a night that had ended with her wrapped in his wings).

Killian stared at the misshapen knot at the end of his damaged wing. It as so much more obvious than the stump of his wrist, hidden beneath the brace. This wasn't something that could be easily hidden. If he went without, then all of Storybrooke would see him for what he was: crippled. Broken.

He was already that one-handed pirate with a drinking problem. He didn't want them to see he was one-winged, as well...

Killian drew his wings back, folding them tightly to his spine. "I can't," he whispered, turning so he wouldn't see the look in her eyes.

"Killian..." he could hear the sadness in her voice.

He kept his gaze down as he picked up his harness and clothing and went into the bathroom.

By the time he'd finished, she was gone.

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Meh. One day, I'll be happy with my writing style. However, that will probably be a sign of the apocalypse...

Kiss the Hell out of me (1/3)

A/N: hello hello hello! It is time for me to post my written contribution to @csrolereversal​ and @cshalloweek​​ and phew, I could’ve never done without the bloody brilliant, amazing @cocohook38​​ and her wonderful sketches! No, really, she’s just been amazing with everything and I admit, without her guidelines and plot points I would’ve been utterly lost! I hope I made her drawings and every tiny detail justice! 

I really hope you enjoy this, even if I have to warn you: the first part is 100% whump and there’s only Killian, so if that’s not your cup of tea, feel free to skip to part 2… when it’ll be posted! My friends, my friends don’t ask me when that’ll happen tho.

Summary: Princess Emma had been warned not to seek the Devil of the seas, the pirate captain whose thirst for revenge left only one man alive after every attack so he would tell the tale of the demon that had taken his brothers’ lives. But desperate times call for desperate measures: she has a kingdom to save, and the man who carries himself as a horned king is her only hope.

Too bad that Killian Jones is not a man anymore.

Read on ao3 - ffnet

Part I

«I’m not the only demon here.»

Killian woke with a roar, pain shooting up his left arm, unfurling deep inside him and trapping what little was left of his heart like a flaming whip, tightening its grip until only dust was left.

Incapable of not doing so, he looked down at his only hand, rings catching the pale moonlight in the dark cabin. The sensation of dust slipping through his fingers persisted, not even rubbing his hand over the blankets bunched at his waist made it disappear. It was as if it’d penetrated under his skin, impossible to get rid of no matter how hard he tried.

Another night, another nightmare.

Drinking himself to stupor wasn’t helping him the way it had many times when he’d drowned his sorrows after Liam’s death. The pain wasn’t comparable to what he’d felt when he’d seen his brother die before his eyes twice, but it was pain still.

Night after night, the dream changed for the worse. At first, it had been the scene he’d witnessed, the demon crushing Milah’s heart as he was tied to the mast, unable to move. Every night that passed brought a new particular into the dream, Rumplestiltskin’s face slowly morphing into Killian’s.

The night he realized the monster was no one but him, Killian had woken up with the frantic need to cut his hand off, the same one that had crushed Milah’s heart, only to realize it was the only one he was left. That day, rum had been his only companion, sharp shards of the mirror scattered on the floor and blood trickling down his fingers, smearing the rings red.

Whatever he’d hoped to accomplish shattered the moment he closed his eyes and the Jolly’s deck appeared behind his eyelids.

It took only a week before he started to feel the demon’s presence behind him as he sneered over his shoulder, blaming him for Milah’s death, her lifeless eyes gazing up at him, void.

«What punishment fits a killer, I wonder.»

Keep reading

It’s so whumpy... and angsty... and whumpy some more... and then triumphant for about three seconds, and then angsty and whumpy some more...

@cshalloweek - CS Halloweek 2019 - Day 4 'Light & Dark'

All he knew was darkness, pain and suffering before she came aboard - the witch who seemed to glow and bring light wherever she went.

As a guest, she could do little to spare him from his Captain's constant wrath but he became used to the golden magic that surrounded him during the night and healed his wounds.

They would reach port soon enough and she would be gone, taking with her warmth and light that he couldn't imagine living life without now he'd experienced them.

He shook himself from his sad thoughts, focusing on his tasks and the tingle of magic in the air. He was nothing but a slave, he reminded himself, it would do no good to become attached to her.

image credit: [x]