#for sherlockianwhovian

[killian-whump]

I’m just doing reblogs for Wh*mptober. Not original/new content.

There is no new content, lol. 😭

But all of these themes make me fondly remember Killian’s adventures and how blessed we were with all of the whump and spills and chills we got from him. What a wonderful character. What a wonderful actor playing him. Ah, the glory days of the Colin fandom.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about (and missing) a lot of our old friends who have disappeared and moved on to other horizons over the years. I just noticed that SherlockianWhovian deleted her account here, so all of the stories she posted under “Read More” links are completely gone 😭 Such a loss. She still has her AO3 up, thank goodness, but so many of her drabbles and one-shots and even some of her longer fics were never posted there.

Please, friends... If you move on... leave your blogs/content up for those who come after you and those you’ve left behind. It’s still valid. It’s still beloved. And, in the absence of your sparkling self, it’s often all we have left of you!

[searchingwardrobes]

Separate Ways

Happy birthday, @sherlockianwhovian! I’m sorry that I don’t write whump, but I did scribble in a notebook for several days writing this without technology in a foreign country, and it somehow ending up a monstrosity of over 7,000 words. Hopefully words that you’ll like. I was inspired by my trip, obviously, especially one night when a street performer came up and started serenading me and my husband during dinner. Being an introvert, I wanted to crawl under the table, but then my writer brain got a fic idea, so I guess it all worked out. And since I knew your birthday was coming up . . .

Summary: Killian Jones somehow becomes a constant companion on Emma and Henry's spring break vacation, helping them navigate their first time in a foreign country. But Emma can't let herself feel too much since she knows how this has to end: the two of them going their separate ways. If only her heart would get the memo.

Rating: T

Also on Ao3 and part of my Fandom Birthday Playlist which I can’t believe has 12 fics in it now!

Tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @bethacaciakay @thislassishooked @teamhook @kday426 @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @killian-whump @let-it-raines @hollyethecurious

True love won’t desert you. You know I still love you, though we touched and went our separate ways.

Emma’s toes dug into the warm brown sand and she couldn’t quite believe she had done it – she was in a foreign country, and best of all, she was sharing it with Henry.

Mary Margaret and David had almost hit the roof when they found out she was going to Colombia of all places on vacation.

“What about the drug cartels?”

Emma rolled her eyes at David. “First of all, there’s crime everywhere, even in Boston. Besides, its 2019, not 1992.”

Mary Margaret blinked, still in shock. “But it’s a third world country!”

“Which is exactly why a 4-star hotel costs forty US dollars a night!”

Granted, the rooms ended up being small with few amenities, but so were hotels in New York City and Boston. It was clean, that was the important thing.

“Can you believe we’re this close to the beach?” Henry exclaimed as he plopped down in the sand beneath their cabana. A cabana that only cost seven US dollars for the whole day. Ok, so the cabana was really just a plastic tarp held up by sticks, but still . . . seven dollars!

“Right kid?” Emma grinned as she settled into a white plastic chair. “Can you believe the view?”

“I hardly can,” Ruby grinned wolfishly as she eyed some handsome Colombian men over the rim of her sunglasses. The men were shirtless and were kicking a soccer ball around.

Ruby had been roped into coming by David and Mary Margaret. Not that the brunette minded, especially when the married couple footed the bill.

“You need someone to look after you,” David had said.

“By Ruby?” Emma had screeched. “This is a family vacation for me and Henry, not an opportunity for Ruby to hit the clubs for a solid week.”

“Hey,” Ruby had protested sarcastically,”I resemble that remark!”

“I’m serious, Rubes!”

“On my honor,” she swore, with her hand to her heart, “I will behave like Mary Margaret at Disney World.”

MM rolled her eyes at Ruby then grasped Emma’s hand. “Please take Ruby. I can’t travel in my third trimester, or I would go myself.”

Emma sighed, relenting. “Ok. If you promise not to have that baby while we’re gone!”

Mary Margaret smiled as she squeezed Emma’s hand. “Deal.”

“I’m getting in the water!” Henry declared as he stood and tossed his t-shirt down on the sand.

Emma eyed the water, then looked up and down the beach. “Uhh . . . sweetie, maybe that’s not such a good idea.”

Henry gaped at her. “Why not? This is a beach vacation!”

Emma gnawed on her lower lip. How should she put this? “I just don’t see any . . . tourists in the water.”

Henry eyed the water, crowded with people. “How do you know none of them are tourists?”

Ruby threw her head back and laughed. “Oh my God, Emma, seriously? It’s the ocean!”

“Well, we’re not supposed to drink the water, even to brush our teeth. How am I supposed to know?”

And honestly? Everything about this trip – getting their passports, following TSA guidelines to pack their carry-ons (because she sure as hell wasn’t paying fifty bucks to check bags), going through customs, exchanging their dollars for pesos – had been full of things Emma didn’t know. Even Spanish. You kind of miss that part in the states when you run away from your foster home at fifteen. High school Spanish I and II would have at least made it easier to ask where the bathrooms were.

Henry put his hands on his hips. “You’re telling me I can’t swim?”

She glanced over at an older couple down the beach. The man’s pale pot belly would likely be red as a lobster by noon while the white-haired woman wore a visor with the Atlanta Braves logo.

“They’re not swimming.”

Henry rolled his eyes, looking startlingly like Emma. “Probably because they are physically unable to.”

Emma heard a masculine laugh from the next cabana over but ignored it.

“Or maybe they know something we don’t know. The water is murky. Maybe its polluted.”

“It’s perfectly safe despite its color.”

Emma tilted her head and shielded her eyes to see the owner of the British accent. She had to force her jaw not to fall open because he was a fine specimen. Slight of build, yet muscular, with a gorgeously masculine chest of dark hair. The smile he gave her was swoon-worthy as were his bright blue eyes and tousled black hair.

“Killian Jones,” he introduced himself, extending his hand.

“Emma Swan,” she said as she took it.

“Ruby Lucas,” her friend purred, leaning forward to show off her ample cleavage.

“Henry Swan,” her son finished the introductions with a wide grin, “and see Mom, I can swim!”

“Not too far, though,” Killian warned. “The seas are rough in Caragena.” He pointed at a wall of rocks farther down the beach. “Did you notice these rock walls?”

“Yeah,” Henry said.

“Well, they put those up to create these u-shaped swimming areas, so stay inside the U. Understand what I mean?”

Henry nodded, and Killian turned his gaze to Emma. “I can keep an eye on him if you like. I’m a strong swimmer.”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “I don’t let men I just met hang out with my ten-year-old.”

Killian dipped his head in what Emma imagined was some regal British thing. “Of course, how foolish of me. Well, good day to you all.”

Then he turned and jogged towards the water. Emma watched him dive into the surf, then stand up and shake out his wonderful hair, the water glistening off his skin.

“My. God.” Ruby muttered.

Emma shook her head, realizing she was ogling the man. “Ok, Henry, let’s go swimming.”

She hesitated, however, as her feet touched the surf. Henry plunged ahead of her, already jumping the waves. Emma looked down, disconcerted by the fact that she couldn’t see through the muddy water.

“It’s just because the sand is brown.”

Emma startled as she looked up into the wet face of Killian Jones. Droplets of water clung to the scruff on his face, an attractive feature she had failed to notice earlier.

“Oh . . . yes, well,” she was never tongue-tied in front of men, damn him! “Why is it brown?” She winced as she went on babbling. “If I hadn’t felt it between my toes, I would have thought it was dirt.”

Killian gestured out towards the waves. “There are no coral reefs nearby. That’s what makes sand white.”

“Oh.” Ugh. Still tongue-tied.

He smiled at her, and she felt the urge to push him. Her immediate attraction to him was messing with her cool demeanor, and it irritated the hell out of her. If he were to crash awkwardly onto his ass in the surf, it would level the playing field. Or something.

“Mom! Come one!” Henry yelled to her.

Emma ignored the annoyingly handsome Brit and her urge to shove him. She eased herself further into the water. She also refused to watch his muscular back as he cut through the waves again. Ok, maybe she snuck a peek. A tiny one.

Killian Jones popped up out of the water halfway between her and Henry. “Afraid of the water, love?”

“Not your love,” Emma snapped, “and I’m a fan of the beach, I’ll have you know. And boats too.”

“Just not the water?” he teased.

Emma scowled at him. “Just a little nervous about what lives in it, that’s all.”

He laughed again, then had the audacity to wink. Infuriating man.

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

Emma ended up letting Henry swim with Killian Jones after all. He wasn’t kidding about the rough water, and Emma herself had never been a strong swimmer. Besides, she was right there watching the two of them from their cabana. Eventually, Henry made new friends with some other kids in the water. Killian swam nearby to keep an eye on him, and Emma’s irritation towards him started to fade. Now Henry was building sand castles with his new friends while Killian sat beside Emma. The more they chatted, the more she realized that disliking him was impossible. He was handsome, and he liked to flirt, but she couldn’t deny there was depth to him.

Ruby was laughing and flirting while getting a soccer “lesson” from the Colombian hotties she had been drooling over earlier. Emma sighed as she watched her.

“How do they do it?”

“Do what?” Killian asked.

“How do Henry and Ruby get past the language barrier? They don’t know Spanish either, yet they don’t let it get in their way. While I just feel . . . lost and stupid.”

“Maybe it isn’t just the language.”

Emma’s eyes widened in surprise as he gazed thoughtfully at her. She had the strangest feeling he could read her thoughts.

“What I mean is,” he clarified, “Henry has always had you instilling confidence in him, so when he faces a new situation, he dives right in. Especially with you nearby.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

Killian shrugged. “It’s rather obvious. You’re an open book, love.”

What he didn’t say, of course, was that Emma’s lost feeling was about more than the language too. She squirmed in her chair, cleared her throat, and quickly changed the subject.

“Is it just me, or are there not many tourists here?”

“Not many foreign tourists you mean. Colombians do vacation, love. Like you Americans going to Florida?”

Emma’s face reddened as she covered her face with her hands. “Oh God, I sound like a shallow American.”

Killian chuckled. “Don’t be embarrassed. And a shallow American wouldn’t be staying in this part of Cartagena. Most Americans – and Europeans – stay in the fancy resorts on the other side of the city and take boats to the islands with white sandy beaches.”

“Oh,” Emma said, her heart sinking. She was such an idiot! “No wonder this hotel was so cheap.”

“Hey,” Killian said, leaning closer, “none of that. Why should you be embarrassed? I mean, why did you come here?”

His earnest expression put her more at ease. “I always wanted to see the world. But growing up in foster care, any vacation is practically impossible, much less to a foreign country. So it was my dream to see some place far away, then to share it with Henry. I started saving when he was a baby, and . . .” Emma shrugged, “this is what I could afford.”

She wasn’t surprised when Killian took the “foster kid” bomb in stride. Somehow, she got the feeling he already knew. He nodded at Henry.

“Look at him, Swan. He’s building sand castles with Colombian children. He’s staying in a part of the city that most Americans never see. You’re really showing him a bit of the country, not just the tourist traps.”

Emma watched as Henry and another boy dug a canal around their castle. A little girl ran up with a cup of ocean water to fill it. She smiled as the truth of Killian’s words washed over her.

“So,” she asked, settling back in her chair, “what brings a Brit to this part of Cartagena?”

A shadow seemed to cross over Killian’s face. “A promise,” he answered cryptically, then abruptly headed back to the water.

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

Emma had always prided herself on being adaptable, but being in a foreign country for the first time in her life was challenging that assumption. After visiting the beach, she, Ruby, and Henry had walked a mile away from their hotel searching for a restaurant. Trip Advisor on her phone said a taco place was only half a mile, yet all they saw were dive bars. It felt like everyone was staring at them, and she was pretty sure she heard several chuckles along with the word gringo. Her blonde hair and pale skin stood out like a sore thumb. They finally gave up and trudged back to the hotel restaurant. The taco stand would have been cheaper, but in American dollars, even the “fancy” hotel food wasn’t astronomical. Trouble was, they didn’t know where else to go or how to ask where restaurants were. They were eating their third meal in a row there when they saw Killian Jones again.

“Look!” Henry cried out, waving the man over. “Hey, Killian!”

“Hello, Henry.”

Ruby flashed the man a toothy grin and pushed out a chair. “Join us.”

Killian glanced at Emma. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Henry insisted.

Apparently, Emma didn’t have a vote. Yet Killian didn’t sit until he got a nod from Emma.

“How are all of you today?” Killian asked, and Emma had to admit it was nice to hear someone besides Ruby and Henry speaking English.

What did you expect, Emma? That people would speak a foreign language in their own damn country? God, she was a shallow American.

The waitress arrived then and Killian ordered in perfect Spanish. The woman beamed at him with pleasure. Not that she hadn’t been polite to them earlier even though they ordered in slowly spoken English while pointing at the menu (which, thank God, was written in both Spanish and English). Still, Emma imagined it felt good for her to have a customer she could easily converse with.

“This is an awesome hamburger,” Henry told Killian before taking a bite, “the best I’ve ever eaten.”

“Henry, don’t talk with your mouth full, especially to a British guy!”

Killian laughed. “It’s okay, contrary to popular belief, we don’t all dine with the queen off china plates.”

“Still,” Emma mumbled as she handed her son a napkin on autopilot. As usual, he was getting ketchup all over his shirt. “And yes, the hamburger is good, but where’s the Colombian food? I didn’t travel to a foreign country to eat burgers and fries.”

Killian leaned back. “Have you been to the Old City yet?”

“The Old City?” Henry asked, licking ketchup off his fingers.

“The Old City is the best part of Cartagena, in my opinion. It’s surrounded by a fort that was built in 1536,” Killian told Henry. He turned to Emma. “I know a great restaurant there. I’d be happy to take the three of you.”

“That sounds great,” Ruby piped up, nudging Emam with her foot under the table.

“Umm . . .” Emma hesitated.

“Please, Mom?” Henry asked. “It sounds cool with the fort and everything. Like Pirates of the Caribbean!”

“Why don’t you just give us directions, Killian?”

“Mo-om, you couldn’t even find the taco stand.”

To Killian’s credit, he didn’t laugh.

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

“So explain the aversion to bananas, Swan.”

Emma, Henry, and Killian were walking along the top of the fort in Cartagena’s old city. Ruby had bowed out, and Emma suspected it had something to do with the soccer hunks who had been hovering around her friend since they arrived. The view was gorgeous, but the wind was brutal. Emma had to hold down her skirt with one hand her beach hat with the other.

They had just eaten dinner at a Colombian restaurant, which had been surprisingly hard to find in Old City. There were burger places, pizza places, and Italian places by the dozen. Killian had led them past all of them and into a tiny place tucked down a side street. Emma had an arepa – a thick, fluffy fried corn cake topped with strips of beef, peppers, onions, and rice, then literally drowned in cheese. Which was fine by Emma – cheese, in her opinion, made everything better. Arepas could be topped with a variety of things, so Henry had ordered one with chicken. The presentation may have been a bit messy, but it had been the best thing Emma had ever put into her mouth.

However, she had refused to even taste the side dish: fried cakes of mashed bananas.

Emma tilted her head back so she could see Killian from under the brim of her hat. “It has to do with a snotty two-year-old who got sick all over me in one of my group homes. I will never forget the smell of banana vomit.”

Killian made a face. “No wonder you won’t eat banana.”

They both laughed. Henry exclaimed over some old canons and ran ahead of them. She had to admit that strolling here with Killian was nice.

“Thanks for helping us order. I didn’t realize how overwhelming it would be to look at a menu and not be able to read any of it.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“Hey, Killian!” Henry shouted. “Did they shoot pirate ships with these canons?”

He ruffled Henry’s hair, and Emma’s breath caught at the sight.

“Perhaps, lad, but I have a feeling they were shooting more at the navies of warring countries. Pirates preferred to attack single ships at sea.”

Henry frowned in obvious disappointment. “That’s not what it shows in the movies.”

“You like pirates?”

“Yeah!”

“Me too. That’s why I’m here in Colombia, actually. It’s part of a bucket list so to speak that my brother Liam and I came up with. We wanted to travel to as many famous pirate ports as we could.”

Emma blinked in surprise, wondering how her son so easily extracted that information from the man when Killian had brushed her off completely the day before.

Henry tilted his head. “So where’s your brother?”

“Unfortunately, he passed before we could finish our trip.”

Emma’s heart softened at the pain in Killian’s face. Now she understood that promise he had mentioned.

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

After that, Killian became a constant presence on their vacation. When they arrived at breakfast each morning in the hotel restaurant, he was already there saving them seats. When they headed out to the beach, Killian had already rented their cabanas for the day. He swam with them, helped them build massive sand castles, and translated flirtatious banter for Ruby and her soccer players. In the evenings when it was cooler, he took them to Old City, which was much larger than Emma had realized that first night.

With Killian as their guide and interpreter, they explored each and every corner of its charming cobblestone streets. Henry was right, it felt like a movie set straight from Pirates of the Caribbean.

Killian was also a huge help to Emma when paying for things. She never seemed to understand how many pesos they were asking her for, and even if she did, the denominations of the bills and coins made no sense to her. On top of that, she never could get the knack of converting the amount to US dollars in her head, so how would she know if she was being ripped off? She felt stupid and vulnerable, which was frightening.

“You’re not stupid, Swan,” Killian told her half a dozen times a day, “it’s just all foreign.”

She was definitely going to have a new understanding for non-English speakers when she got back to the states.

The Old City was also full of street performers. One night, Emma was entranced by a group of dancers. The women wore colorful ruffled blouses and white skirts and danced barefoot to the rhythm of bongo and djembe drums. The men were shirtless and wore white pants. The men and women both shook their hips faster than Emma would have thought possible.

“I bet I can shake my hips like that,” Killian teased, leaning close to whisper in her ear. He was still an impossible flirt. “How about you and I go out there and show them what we’ve got?”

His breath was hot on her neck and sent a shiver down her spine. “Please,” she scoffed, “a stiff Brit like you?”

He chuckled, “And what about your hips, Swan?”

Emma turned to look at him, her gaze lingering for a beat on his lips before locking onto his ocean blue eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

They were so close, their breaths mingled. Killian’s gaze drifted to her lips as he quipped back in a husky voice, “Maybe I would.”

Was Emma swaying towards him or was it the other way around?

“Mom!”

Henry’s voice sent them jumping apart. Emma’s face burned as if she’d been caught at something, but Henry seemed oblivious.

“Can I have some change for the dancers?”

“Um, sure kid,” Emma said. She handed him some, and Henry dashed off to drop them into the hat one of the dancers was holding out.

Killian gave her an awkward smile and scratched behind his ear. “Um, this side of the fort is right by the harbor.”

He gestured with his hand behind her, and Emma turned to see fishing boats and pleasure yachts bobbing nearby.

“My ship is docked there,” Killian continued, “and I thought you and Henry might like to see it?”

“You have a boat?”

“Pirates sail ships, love, not boats.”

Emma tilted her head, giving him a teasing smile. This was the first time he had seemed nervous, and she was reveling in it. “Okay, Captain, lead the way.”

Henry was beside himself with excitement as he raced around Killian’s yacht (because regardless of what Captain Jones said, that’s what it was). Emma leaned over the railing on the top deck, then turned and regarded Killian.

“What are you, Captain Jones? A spy? A con artist? A thief? Because here you are with a yacht, sailing around to tropical ports.” She cocked her head teasingly. “Or are you just a trust fund boy?”

She was relieved when Killian laughed, worried her tone was too bite. He sauntered into her personal space like he so often did, his tongue dragging across his bottom lip (he did that a lot too, she had noticed).

“You can clearly see I am not a boy,” he told her, laughter fading, and voice going husky.

She gripped the railing behind her a bit tighter, her heart pounding in her chest. Just when she thought he might lower his head and kiss her, his posture relaxed, and he leaned against the railing next to her.

“No, Swan,” he explained, tone turning serious, “like you, my brother and I spent most of our youth in foster care. When I was twelve and Liam sixteen, we finally got a foster father who broke through our armor of anger and cynicism. His name was Nemo, or that’s what he went by anyway. He was a retired Naval Admiral. And yes, he was wealthy, but it was his patience and his belief in us that made a difference.” Killian ran a hand along the railing, his gaze introspective. “He took us out on the water all the time.” He shook his head and chuckled. “I supposed it was the only way to force a conversation out of us. There was nowhere to escape.”

A smile broke out on Emma’s face as well. She’d never been that lucky in a foster home, but she could still relate. Mary Margaret had done the same thing to her on that road trip to Vermont.

“The things he taught us through sailing,” Killian continued, “were actually life lessons. With him out on the water, we found purpose and confidence and above all, family.”

“Where is Nemo now?”

“Gone. Just like my brother. He left Liam and I this yacht when he passed. He knew about our dream trip.”

Emma watched him gaze out over the water, his jaw clenching. She reached a hand out tentatively and rested it on his forearm. He smiled at her – and slowed as an invisible cord seemed to draw them nearer to one another.

“Killian!” Henry called out, and once again, they jumped apart, this time both of them chuckling.

They followed the sound of Henry’s voice below deck and into Killian’s quarters. They found Henry standing before a map.

“Have you really sailed to all of these places?”

Killian slapped Henry on the shoulder. “Aye, my boy. Our first stop was here, in Bermuda.”

“Wow,” Henry replied, leaning closer to the map. “I didn’t know it was so much farther north than all these other islands. Did you see the Bermuda triangle?”

“Of course. Liam and I snorkeled right by the Devil’s Head, the rock that some people claim is the tip of the triangle.”

“Awesome!”

Killian winked at Emma over Henry’s head. “Did you know that there are no true natives of Bermuda? The island was settled by the survivors of a shipwreck.”

“Mom, we’ve got to go to Bermuda next!”

“Thanks a lot, Captain,” Emma groaned, “you put ideas in his head. Next thing you know, he’ll want a yacht, too.”

“Come on Emma, take him.” He winked at her. “They’ve got the best rum you’ve ever tasted.”

“You take this pirate thing seriously, don’t you?”

Henry traced marks on the map. “St. Augustine, Florida; New Providence, Bahamas; Tortuga, Haiti; Port Royal, Jamaica . . . how cool! Why are you at the hotel? Why don’t you just sleep on your ship?”

“I did the first week I was here and sailed around the islands, Playa Blanca, San Bernardo . . . but I felt like I was around too many tourists. That’s why I booked a room where you and your mom are. I fell in love with The Old City, and the beach is much less crowded, thank God.”

Henry asked if Killian could show him more about how to sail the yacht, and the two of them headed above deck. Emma approached the map and ran her finger along the dots of all the ports Killian had visited, and she wondered: How many had Liam Jones seen before he died? And what exactly had happened to him?

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

The next day, Killian took Emma, Killian, Ruby, and one of the soccer players she had been partying with named Mateo, out on his yacht. Thankfully, Ruby and her boy toy had behaved themselves. Killian took them to one of the islands with the famous white sandy beaches, and Emma found she agreed with Killian. It was too crowded and too touristy. They ended up only staying an hour, then spent the rest of the day sailing along the coast. When they got back to the hotel, they were all deliciously drowsy from the combination of sunshine and ocean air.

Killian walked them to their room, and as soon as Henry disappeared inside, he took Emma’s elbow gently.

“You leave the day after tomorrow, don’t you?”

Emma nodded wordlessly. He was leaning close again, his hand resting on the door frame behind her. Encroaching on her personal space seemed like his favorite past time. The most disturbing part of it was that Emma didn’t mind.

“I’d like to take you out before you go. Do you think Ruby might watch Henry tomorrow night?”

Emma’s pulse quickened. “I . . . I’m not sure. Ruby might want to spend her last night with Mateo or Alejo, or . . . what was the other guy’s name?”

Killian laughed as he ducked his head and scratched behind his ear. “Let me know at breakfast in the morning?”

Emma nodded, still unable to form words as he walked to the elevator.

“What do you mean, you’re not sure?” Ruby screeched in the elevator on their way to breakfast the next morning.

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to babysit your last night here.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!” Henry protested.

“Yes, you do, especially in a foreign country, kid.”

“I will gladly give up my last night with my soccer hunks to get you la -” Ruby cut off just in time, glancing at Henry, “looove, I mean, romance.”

“Yeah Mom, Killian really likes you,” Henry added, to Emma’s complete surprise. He wasn’t usually all that thrilled about the few men she’d been out with.

“But what’s the point? We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“The point is we are on a tropical Colombian vacation and you only live once, Emma,” Ruby answered with a firm nod of her head.

The elevator doors opened and Emma knew that Ruby and Henry were never going to let her get out of this date with Killian.

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

Emma had no idea why she had bothered spending all that time fixing her hair. She and Killian were strolling along the top of the fort in Old City, and her long blonde hair was whipping around her head. Why hadn’t she thought about the wind?

Killian didn’t seem to notice, however, as they chatted easily. He laughed when Emma spat a strand of hair out of her mouth.

“Ugh,” she grumbled, “I should have just worn it up.”

Killian reached out to tuck it behind her ear, sending a tingle straight down her earlobe and all the way down to her toes.

“We could get you a hat.”

Emma waved him off. If she had learned anything the past seven days, it was that Killian was much too generous with both her and Henry. “It’s fine.”

They settled down in one of the crenels of the fort wall. They seemed to be popular make out spots Emma had noticed, and she tried to tamp down the blush that threatened to rise to her cheeks as she thought about it. She pulled up her knees and looked out at the water.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

Killian tilted his head, “I suppose so.”

“What happened to your brother?”

Killian was silent for a long moment. So long, she worried that he wouldn’t answer. Finally, he began to speak in a voice thick with emotion.

“When we got the yacht, we started planning this trip, but it was still sort of an abstract idea. Then Liam got the diagnosis.”

He stopped and rubbed at his eyes. Emma laid a hand reassuringly on his knee.

“Liam had been having joint pain for a while. One of his knees, an elbow, his neck. He thought they were from working out at the gym until the pain got so bad it kept him up all night. It was bone cancer and by the time it was diagnosed, it had spread through his whole body.”

“I’m so sorry, Killian.” She knew what it was to be alone, but to have family – such a small one – and then lose it all? She couldn’t imagine.

“They told us they could try chemo or radiation, but all it would do was buy him a few more months. Liam decided he would rather spend his last days on the water, on our dream trip, then suffering in the hospital.”

“How many of the ports did he make it to?” Emma asked gently.

“Only three. We started small, stopping at Clew Bay in Ireland before heading out into the Atlantic. He died in an emergency room in St. Augustine, Florida.”

Killian sniffed and ducked his head as he wiped at his tears. “He made me promise to finish the trip.”

“How many more ports do you have to go?”

Killian ran a hand down his face wearily. “None that we had planned. We talked about sailing along the Barbary Coast before heading home, but . . . “ he caught Emma’s gaze, “honestly? Until I met you and Henry, my travels have felt mostly empty.”

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

They headed down to the streets of Old City, and Emma was still battling the wind. Killian pulled her to a street vendor who had floppy straw hats piled up for sale.

“Come on, Emma, let me buy you one.”

She was about to refuse when she spotted a beautiful, wide straw hat with a satiny rose-colored ribbon around the brim. She picked it up.

“You like that one?” Killian asked with a grin.

Emma plopped it on her head. “I don’t know. Is it too big?”

Killian’s blue eyes sparkled. “No. You look beautiful.”

Emma blushed. Killian already had his wallet out, bartering with the merchant in rapid Spanish. He handed over some pesos as he winked at Emma. A gust of wind blew past, and the hat went flying off her head. She snatched it right before it hit the ground.

“You need to use the strap, love, in this wind,” he admonished lightly, pulling the elastic under her chin. His fingers traced along her jaw as he did so, and the air felt thicker than it had before.

“See? Beautiful,” he whispered.

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

Killian took Emma to a fancy Italian restaurant that had seating outside in one of the large courtyards of Old City. Emma’s shrimp pasta was delicious, and she continued to be amazed at how comfortable she felt talking and laughing with Killian over their meal.

Street performers circulated the courtyard; guitar players, percussionists, even a man blowing enormous bubbles to entertain the children. An older man with a guitar and a black curled mustache approached their table. He rattled off a question in Spanish. The only word Emma caught and understood was “amor.” Killian blushed – an adorable look on him actually – and said, “No, gracias.”

The man wouldn’t take no for an answer, however, and started serenading them. That alone had Emma blushing in mortification as everyone in the courtyard turned to look, but her embarrassment increased tenfold as the man began to sing – in English.

“Kiss me, my darling. Kiss me, my love. Our love overwhelms me. Kiss me with passion, my beautiful one.”

Killian caught her eye, and they both started laughing nervously. The tips of Killian’s ears were bright red, and Emma thought he had never seemed more irresistible.

Emma wasn’t sure if those were the only words to the song, or if they were the only words the man knew in English. At any rate, he sang the same words through three times. By then, Emma and Killian were both ducking their heads with their hands to their foreheads. Everyone else in the courtyard, on the other hand, had begun to pick up a chant: “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Emma looked up and held Killian’s gaze, her face burning like it never had before. His lips quirked up in a half smile as he shrugged. Emma bit her lip and shrugged back. Killian’s half smile turned to a full-on grin. As the chanting grew louder, he leaned forward, and Emma leaned in to meet him. His lips met hers as cheers and hoots filled the courtyard. He kept it chaste, yet Emma head still spun at the feel of his lips soft against hers, his scruff rough against her chin. When he pulled away, the crowd clapped. He gave the guitarist a few coins, and the man said, “gracias,” before moving away.

All Emma could think was that if a simple kiss from Killian was that good, she couldn’t wait to get him alone.

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

On the walk home, Killian took Emma’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Such a simple gesture, but it warmed her all over. They entered the hotel, and Emma slipped off her new hat, holding it by the strap. She swung it by her side as they waited for the elevator. She and Killian had gone quiet, and they kept cutting glances at each other. The elevator dinged, and Emma was thrilled to find it empty. They stood quietly side by side, but as soon as the doors shut, Emma turned and grabbed Killian by the lapels of his shirt. Her hat fell soundlessly to the elevator floor. When she crashed her lips into his, he responded immediately, burying one hand in her hair. She let go of his shirt as she tilted her head so she could finally run her fingers through his hair, something she had longed to do since that first day on the beach. Both their mouths were open and hungry, their tongues tangling, and Emma was on fire.

Killian tightened his arm around her waist to pull her flush against him, and his hand slid from her hair to caress her jaw, then her neck. As his hand explored her collar bone, she broke their kiss with a gasp and tilted her head back. Killian’s teeth dragged across her neck, his hand cupping one of her breasts.

“Emma,” he breathed against her skin, “are you wearing a bra?”

“No,” she gasped.

“You minx,” he growled.

Actually, she wasn’t wearing a bra for practical reasons. Her dress was a halter and she despised strapless bras with every fiber of her being. But if Killian wanted to believe she did it to tease him, then she wasn’t about to correct him.

The elevator opened with a ding to a blessedly empty hallway. Emma saw that they weren’t on the 22nd floor where her room was, but the 24th where Killian was staying. She hadn’t even noticed him hitting the button.

They didn’t stop their explorations of one another as they stumbled off the elevator. Killian pressed her against the nearest wall, but then he pulled back, resting his palms on the wall behind her.

“I didn’t mean to presume,” he told her, lust darkening his eyes. “Will you stay the night with me, Emma?”

She wanted to answer him with a searing kiss and wandering hands. God, every fiber of her being pulsed with need for him. But then she thought about doing the walk of shame back to the tiny room she was sharing with Henry. He was an inquisitive kid, and the only answers she’d be able to give would be lies. One thing she tried never to do was lie to her kid.

“I can’t,” she told Killian, trying to infuse her deep regret into her words, “Henry.”

He nodded, cupped her face, and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek.

“I understand. Let me walk you back to your room.”

They turned back to the elevator. The hat he’d bought her was still lying on the floor.

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

The flight was early in the morning, so they had to get a taxi at five a.m. When Killian had asked when they were leaving, she had lied and told him after lunch. Part of her felt bad about that, but she didn’t regret the lie. It would be easier this way.

So she was completely shocked when she heard a British accent shout “Swan!” just before she climbed into the taxi with Henry and Ruby.

“Killian! How did you -”

“Open book, remember?” he told her with a smile. “I texted Ruby last night after I left you at your door.”

Emma turned and glared at her friend, who looked way too smug.

“Killian!” Henry exclaimed, leaning out the door. “I knew you wouldn’t miss telling us goodbye.”

“Of course not, lad,” Killian replied, giving Henry a fist bump. Then he turned to Emma hesitantly, scratching behind his ear. “May I speak to you privately?”

Emma felt slight panic well up in her. “Our flight . . . “

“It will only take a minute.”

In the end, she couldn’t say no to those pleading blue eyes. She let him guide her gently a few steps away from the taxi.

“I realize you’ve only known me for a week,” he told her earnestly, “but I swear it feels like I’ve known you forever. I wasn’t sure if I could ever feel alive again after losing what little family I’ve ever had. Until I met you.”

Sadness filled Emma’s heart. “Please don’t say stuff like that.”

“Why shouldn’t I when it’s true?” he replied gently, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.

“Because it only makes it harder to say goodbye.”

“It doesn’t have to be goodbye forever.”

“Yes it does. I’m American, you’re British. There’s an ocean between us.”

He took her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “The world’s smaller than it used to be. I have your number already. We can make it work.”

“It would never last, Killian. This has to be goodbye.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his chastely. “I’ll never forget you.”

He smiled sadly. “And I’ll think of you always, Emma Swan.”

When Emma turned to get in the taxi, she forced herself not to look back.

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

Emma wasn’t sure if post-vacation depression was a thing, but if there was, she had it. Getting back into the routine of work and Henry’s school after eight days of leisure was tough. Then there was the realization that the trip she had planned for so long was over.

And then there was Killian. She felt like the memory of him - his eyes, his smile, his kisses – were always at the back of her mind. Tender words he had spoken to her and things they had shared were replayed over and over again. Sometimes Henry caught her daydreaming like a teenager. Killian was in her dreams when she fell asleep, too, and it was always the same dream – a replay of the end of their date. Only this time, she stayed the night and her dreams vividly tortured her with what she had missed.

They had been home for three agonizing weeks when they heard a knock at the door just as they were sitting down to breakfast. Henry looked at her in confusion.

“Are we expecting someone?”

“No,” she told Henry, holding up a hand, “stay here while I check it out.”

The last person she expected to find on the other side was Killian Jones, yet there he was, in all his handsome glory.

“Swan!” he exclaimed. “At last!”

As he surged forward to kiss her, Emma vaguely thought about her bed head, her baggy PJs, and her morning breath. But the feel of his lips against hers was so heavenly, she just melted into his kiss.

“What?” she gasped when the kiss ended. “How are you here?”

She held tight to the lapels of his jacket as if he might disappear at any moment.

“I’ve been miserable every day since we parted, so I decided to do something about it.”

“What about your promise to Liam? What about the Barbary Coast?”

He grinned at her, his thumb dragging over her lower lip. “Boston has a harbor last time I checked. As a matter of fact, my ship’s docked there now.”

“I don’t think pirates in the same breath as Boston.”

Killian’s hands were distracting her as they cupped her face, his thumb drawing circles on her cheeks.

“Emma, don’t you know what pirates search for?”

“Treasure?” she whispered.

He pressed his forehead to hers, eyes closed. “And I’ve found mine.”

There were a million logistical questions she could have asked in that moment, but not a single one entered her mind. Instead, she laughed as Killian hoisted her up in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she kissed him and knew that going their separate ways was never an option.

[walviemort]

hidden blessing (1/?)

Summary: Killian thought the only thing he was left with after Milah's death was a broken heart and a thirst for vengeance. It's not until he gets to Storybrooke, after so many years spent in stasis, that he discovers something else: he's carrying her child. How does this new, tiny blessing change his path? (Canon-divergent from 2x12.) 

rated T | AO3 | 2.7k

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @sherlockianwhovian​!!!! Here it is: that random idea I sent to you a few months ago and we had a crazy conversation about. I’ve been picking at it here and there ever since and today seemed like a good day to start posting. I hope you have a beautiful day, darling, even with all the craziness in the world! (General note: this will mostly follow canon, but may jump around a bit. And will be updated whenever I get to it, lol.)

With the heaviest of hearts, Killian watched as the body of his darling lover—and part of his soul—dropped to the depths of the sea. A significant part of him wanted to join her, but he knew that’d be a disservice to her memory. 

So instead, he led his crew to Neverland to bide their time until he could find a way to destroy his crocodile. Aside from a handful of ventures into the Enchanted Forest and other realms, they spent close to a century in the ageless realm. 

When they finally left Neverland for good, it was only a couple of weeks until he was again put in stasis by the Dark Curse. Once time unfroze, he got anxious as the months ticked by and they couldn’t leave, but Cora assured him—“Time still hasn’t started to move here, not really; we’re just not frozen in place. You’ll still have your pretty face once the curse breaks.”

And when it did, everything seemed to run faster. Was it really only a matter of days from the time the curse broke, to meeting Swan, to their adventure (and her subsequent betrayal) on the beanstalk, to fighting at Lake Nostos, to landing in Storybrooke? No wonder he was nauseous once they’d docked in the sleepy town. 

He figured a night of rest would send that away, but it lingered in the following days, even while enacting Cora’s plan and finally, finally starting to seek his revenge. Though the rounds of abuse suffered at the hands of the Dark One and his librarian lover certainly didn’t help. 

He got the last laugh, though, with his pistol. Watching the Crocodile’s panic at the realization his love didn’t know him filled him with glee—even if he was in pain a minute later after being thrown by the heavy metal coach. 

So it wasn’t much surprise when, hours later as he woke in the infirmary, everything hurt, including his stomach. 

“Good morning, Hook,” a man said a bit later. “I’m the doctor looking after you; name’s Whale. You took quite a hit there.”

The blonde man looked as haggard as he felt; Killian recognized a hangover when he saw one. But he only eyed the man warily and let him continue. 

“Nothing too serious happened, and you’re lucky. Ribs heal, but we’ll have to be careful not to do anything to hurt the baby.”

Killian blinked. Baby? What? He wasn’t expecting. “Beg your pardon, mate?” he asked, voice a bit rough with disuse. “What baby?”

Whale seemed surprised. “Your baby; the one you’re pregnant with right now. You didn’t know?”

Cold fear washed over Killian; he couldn’t be, could he? “Is this some kind of joke?” he bit out angrily. 

“It’s not; we checked your blood before giving you any pain medication. You know you’re capable of carrying children, right?”

“Aye,” he confirmed; all men in his family had a womb, so he knew it was possible. “But I haven’t lain with anyone in at least a century.” Not since his last night with Milah—though, as he recalled vividly, the situation was right for him to conceive. 

The doctor thought about it for a moment, then asked, “If it’s been that long, then how are you still here as a healthy young man?”

“I’ve been in Neverland; time doesn’t move there,” he explained. “As well as a handful of other situations that left me in stasis.”

“Well, that’s it, then,” the doctor said. “If your body wasn’t aging, neither was the fetus. But now that you’re here, that kid is finally getting the chance to grow.” 

The man continued to drone on about the biology behind everything, but the only thing Killian could focus on anymore was the fact that he was pregnant—with Milah’s child. A child she’d never know. Yet another thing the Crocodile had taken from them. 

Anger threatened to wash over him again, but then a quick wave of nausea brought him back down and found him instead staring at his midsection. He tried to place his hand on it, but found it was cuffed to the side of the bed. So instead, he put his bare stump over it, a rush of paternal feelings rising within. 

He wasn’t sure how his blood had confirmed it, but once he’d heard the words, something just clicked and he knew it to be true. He was going to be a father. And suddenly, he didn’t want anything else.

“Hook, did you hear any of that?”

Killian blinked and looked back up at the doctor. “Afraid not.”

Whale sighed. “Okay, I’ll say the important parts again: we want to do an exam to make sure everything is okay with your baby, given the number of hits you’ve taken over the last few days. Does that sound alright?”

“I suppose so, yes.” If anything, he was curious about this realm’s medicine and how it worked. But if it enabled him to ensure the well being of his child, then he’d do it without hesitation; he’d likely done enough to risk their health. 

“Alright; I’m headed into surgery, but someone from the OB-GYN will be around later. Rest up until then.”

He didn’t know what those letters meant, but nodded his assent and the doctor left. Which meant he was alone—but not really, apparently. 

He glanced back down at his still-flat stomach. At first, he was filled with shame at not knowing that new life was growing within him; goodness, the things he’d done in the past decades. Hell, the past month. He’d have to curb that immediately, assuming he hadn’t done any damage already.

Gods, he couldn’t live with himself if he had. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. Though he was sure the babe couldn’t hear him, it helped to say it out loud. “If I had known, I would have been so much more careful. But from now on, I promise to do whatever I can to keep you safe. Always.”

His mind grew fuzzy not long after and he drifted off; it was no surprise that he dreamed of holding a small child in his arms. They had bright blue eyes and curly hair that seemed to change color on a whim, from black to red to blonde. They were darling and precious and he couldn’t wait to meet them.

Until something pulled him from his dreams, and he was suddenly aware of another presence in the room. He blinked, winced at the various maladies all over his body, and was finally able to focus; Emma was sitting on the edge of his bed.

Emma; he’d forgotten about her for a bit there. (Understandably.) She looked pissed, which didn’t surprise him, but just as fierce as ever. Something stirred somewhere else—thankfully not his stomach, for once—and the attraction to her that he didn’t fully understand came back. He was torn between wanting to bed her and fight her. (Maybe both?)

She set the tone immediately, though. “Where's Cora?” she asked sternly.

He tried to sit up, preferring to have a confrontation at the same eye level, but first the cuff stopped him, and then his sore ribs did. “Damn, that hurts,” he hissed.

Emma stood and hovered over him. “Told you. You cracked a few ribs. Where's Cora?”

She was all business, but she was no match for his well-honed deflection skills—or flirtatious front. “You look good, I must say, all "Where's Cora?" in a commanding voice. Chills,” he added salaciously. It was fun to get a rise from her.

She just raised her eyebrow, unamused. “You have all sorts of sore places I can make you hurt.” without warning, she lunged forward, aiming for his ribs; instinctively, he brought up his left arm to protect both them and his baby. She didn’t connect, but clearly wasn’t afraid of using physical torture methods; in that instant, he knew—he wasn’t about to tell her, or anyone else, about the baby just yet; not if they could use it against him.

She pulled back and he relaxed, but the ache was renewed. Sighing, he told her, “I've no idea where Cora is. She has her own agenda.” And it was true; he hadn’t seen the witch since she placed the cloaking spell on his ship. “Let's talk about something I am interested in: my hook.” He felt slightly naked without his prosthesis. “May I have it back? Or is there another...attachment you'd prefer,” he tossed back, eyes glancing down his body. If he couldn’t physically defend himself, he could at least annoy her until she left. (Though he wouldn’t complain if she took him up on the offer.)

Emma rolled her eyes, of course. “You're awfully chipper for a guy who just failed to kill his enemy, then got hit by a car.”

“Well, my ribs may be broken, but everything else is still intact, which is more than can be said for all the other bad days I've had,” he said, gesturing with his stump. “Plus I did some quality damage to my foe.” 

“You hurt Belle.”

“I hurt his heart. Belle is just where he keeps it. He killed my love. I know the feeling.” Even further reason to keep his child far away from anyone who could hurt them.

Emma gave him a wry, insincere grin, and bent over him to come closer. “Keep smiling, buddy. He's on his feet, immortal, has magic, and you hurt his girl. If I had to pick dead guy of the year, I'd pick you.” And without another word, she turned and left.

He sighed and gently placed his stump back over his stomach; he hadn’t wanted to do that in front of Emma, lest it give her any ideas—male pregnancy was rare, but not unheard of, and he didn’t know how much she knew of the magical realms yet. But the encounter proved one thing: the number of people he could trust in this town was small, possibly nonexistent. 

And only reinforced that his child wouldn’t truly be safe until Rumplestiltskin was out of the picture completely.

Gods, he’d only known about the babe for a matter of hours and already had recentered his life around him or her. It wasn’t the first time he’d done that, of course, but still—it took him by surprise.

He dozed off again for an unknown period of time until a soft knocking woke him. “Oh, sorry; didn’t know you were asleep,” a timid-looking man said. He had white hair and glasses and was of short stature, looking altogether unthreatening—but the machinery he pushed on a small cart was completely foreign to Killian. “I’m Doc, the obstetrician.”

“The what?” was all Killian could say.

“I’m here to check on the baby.”

“Oh!” Killian exclaimed, and tried again to sit up, only to fail again.

“Here; let me.” The doctor rushed to the side of Killian’s bed and pressed something, making the top half of the bed lift as if by magic. 

“How did you do that?” Killian asked, trying to peer over the rail without causing further injury.

“It’s all mechanical; I can show you later. But first: can you tell me when you think you conceived?”

“Um, about 130 years ago, if my arithmetic is correct.”

The doctor dropped his pen as soon as he’d picked it up. “Beg your pardon?”

Killian explained again his history with Neverland, and Doc was well aware of the magical happenings since then, having been equally cursed. Killian also told him what he knew about his ability to carry children, though it wasn’t much, seeing as his father refused to and his brother never got the chance. “All I know is the woman has to be on top,” he summarized.

“Got it,” Doc answered, though clearly embarrassed a bit. “Well, given that this is as new to me as it is to you, I’m going to have to do some poking around in some...personal places. Is that alright?”

“Don’t have much choice, do I?”

“No, sorry; but I’ll be gentle.”

The doctor was true to his word, carefully examining Killian’s stomach and private areas and proclaiming that everything appeared to look good.

But then he picked up a wand-like device that appeared to be attached to the machine he’d brought with him, and started fiddling with the contraption. “What’s that?” Killian had to ask.

The doctor was blushing; this couldn’t be good. “Well, uh,” he stammered, clearly not sure how to explain it; Killian subconsciously wrapped his arm around his stomach a bit tighter. “It’s a machine that lets us see inside the womb; there are a couple different kinds here, but this one is a little more...invasive.”

The fact that such a device existed was incredible to Killian, but he quickly put two and two together. “Does that...thing...go inside me?”

“I’m afraid it does.”

“Bloody hell. Is it necessary?”

“Given what you’ve gone through, and that we’re not really sure how far along you are, it is.”

Killian sighed dramatically, but he could tell it was important. “Go ahead.”

While he knew worse lay ahead, he sincerely hoped to not have to go through anything so awkward as that examination. “Just look at the screen,” Doc said, trying to keep him calm; but the space on the machine only showed nondescript black and gray blurs at first. The feeling of the device within him was not pleasant, either, but finally, Doc proclaimed “Ah! There it is! Hear that?”

The oddest noise filled the room from the machine; Killian had no description for it. “What is that?”

“That’s your baby’s heartbeat, and look—there it is on the screen.”

It didn’t look like much, but Killian had to admit—there was something vaguely humanoid about the blob-like images on the screen.

“That’s the head, and the spine, and there’s the legs.”

Killian had to tilt his head to make sense of it, but it started to take shape. “Does it not have arms?”

Doc chuckled. “It does; we just can’t see them right now. Based on that image, I’d put you at about 11 weeks along.”

“You can tell from that? And what does that even mean?” He’d never heard of measuring pregnancy like that; he knew it took a certain number of months, but most people just estimated. The fact that they could narrow it down so much was astonishing—and made him realize how little he knew about what was to come.

Thankfully, Doc explained everything as he removed the device and cleaned up, and they were able to estimate a due date; he also recommended coming in regularly for appointments to track the progress of the child’s growth, which Killian wasn’t sure would be necessary, but he agreed in order to placate the doctor. 

The machine made some more weird noises and spat something out, which Doc took and handed to Killian. “Here; you can keep that.” It was the picture from the screen; goodness, this realm was proving to be a technological marvel. He wanted to take it but, again—handcuffs. “Oh, I’ll put it on the table then,” Doc said, and started to, but Killian couldn’t risk anyone seeing it.

“No, don’t—if you know where my coat ended up, can you put it in there? I...I don’t want anyone knowing just yet.”

“I understand,” Doc answered with a small smile. “It’s in the closet over here.”

As he put it away, Killian added, “I can trust your discretion, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Doc finished gathering his things and headed towards the door. “Oh, and Captain—one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“Congratulations.”

Killian tried, but couldn’t hide his smile. “Thank you.”

He was going to be a father—a father to a child that was, by some miracle, the product of he and the woman he’d loved above all else. He didn’t consider himself a lucky man, but thanked the gods that they’d seen fit to bless him just this once. 

And he fell asleep once more, knowing that—for the first time in so many years—he had something worth living for other than his revenge.

----------------------------------------------------------------

thanks for reading! and be sure to send some birthday love to Leanne! tagging a few others: @cocohook38​ @ashley-knightingale​ @jennjenn615​ @wyntereyez​​ @superadam54​

[kitsunewingstar]

My @cssecretsanta2k19 gift for @sherlockianwhovian

I hope you like it.

[hollyethecurious]

Just so the fandom is aware, today sherlockianwhovian's (and by extension the o'donocrew fundraising) blog was terminated by Tumblr. Leanne is unsure why this has happened, as she has not violated any policies or terms of service, and is working to get them both restored. She has a created a temporary blog - @sherlockianwhovian2 - until things are back on track.

Naturally, this couldn't have happened at a more inconvenient time, seeing as how today is the final day of the O'donocrew fundraising campaign for Colin's birthday (not to mention Colin's birthday, and something of a fandom holiday in this corner or the fandom). Regardless, the current fundraiser still has several hours left, and I hope you'll join me in posting and reblogging about it so it can finish strong!

Thanks!

[theonceoverthinker]

Top 5 GH moments!

You know me too well, buddy!

5. To start off our list, we have a small scene from “Mother” -- the diner scene. After Killian was basically tortured by Rumple for so much of 4A and what with the threat of Emma going dark being a genuine possibility in much of 4B, to see that Rumple’s scheme failed as someone rooting for these two makes me genuinely happy! And so when Killian busts his way into Gold and Isaac’s booth to gloat, it’s really enjoyable! That tenseness is there as Killian remarks on how Rumple will never get to enjoy his happy ending, and the rest of it is GH snark! What more can you want, really?

4. Rumple taking Killian’s hand in “The Crocodile.” Who doesn’t love some good old fashioned mutilation?! Seriously though, Rumple stealing Killian’s hand is just an iconic scene, and for good reason! Everything gets more complex here. Milah goes from being a horrible bitch into being the subject of fandom discourse that persists to this day concerning a mother’s autonomy vs. her responsibilities as a parent. It furthered the painting of the picture that is Killian Jones into a man that like Shrek, has layers. He is just as much a man in love and a victim of his beloved’s murder as he is a horrible bully. And for Rumple, the scene successfully frames him in a tragic, but still villainous light. 

3. Dark One Rumple reunites with Killian Jones in “The Crocodile.” This is the scene that sets up Rumple and Killian’s dynamic for the rest of the series! I know that’s a not at all small thing to say, but really, while the hand scene is important, it’s this scene that first shows the Rumple and Killian we know interacting in the way that they will for the rest of the present timeline, snark, intimidation, and all, something that’s just not present in the initial hand-stealing scene. Here, we see the depths of not only Killian’s personality for the first time, but important reiterations of the depth of Rumple’s. On Killian’s end, this is the first time where we see Killian actually afraid -- not cowardly, just afraid. We see Killian speaking very carefully because he knows that unlike the last time they met, this time, it’s his life on the line, and he has someone he wants to live for. He is willing to suck up his pride to a large extent as to not die, but not at the cost of his honor. Killian never runs away, even as he’s dealt an invitation to a duel that may very well take his life. There’s a sense of self preservation on display. And on Rumple’s end, we see contrasts. On one side, we see the contrast between Rumple the human and Rumple the Dark One, and on the other, it’s Rumple as a victim vs. Killian as a victim. We see how his corruption as the Dark One has made him so similar to the man who once bullied him.

2. Killian getting the jump on Rumple in “Rocky Road.” Let’s face it: Despite Golden Hook being a rivalry, Killian doesn’t win that often, and when he does, it’s usually through a means of karma giving Killian an out more than he and Rumple directly coming at each other in a conflict. And that sucks because Killian balances Rumple out so nicely! Whereas Rumple gets by because of his magic, influence, intimidation, ability to pick up on desperation, and factual intelligence, Killian does so by his charisma, wit, and emotional intelligence. But the thing is, rarely do those aspects of their characters get to bounce off each other. But in this scene, they do. Rumple has most everyone fooled. Belle trusts him, and while Emma doesn’t, she also lacks the means to really challenge his credibility. Killian sticks with his guns though, trusting his instincts to develop a theory as to what’s going on with Rumple and incorporates what is basically a bluff into a win. And he succeeds. That...that is just awesome!

And the number one best GH moment iiiiissssss...

1. Gold stealing Killian’s heart in “Smash the Mirror.” You all KNEW this was going to be number 1! This sole moment had me basically create a whump fic-ematic multiverse! Everything about it is so good! First, there’s the tense, scary atmosphere that surrounds the scene. It comes as almost a bit of a surprise in a sense because of the previous scene’s happy ending, and it takes the viewer on an emotional roller coaster. This is mostly done by the music, but the creepy night time imagery as well as the hellish vines really sell it too! Second, let’s talk about the acting. Robert Carlyle and Colin O’Donoghue really sell this scene. Robert sells the aforementioned atmosphere through his soft, calm voice that holds until the second before the theft, the slow way he walks, and sharp movement of his hand as he plunges it into Killian’s chest. And Colin’s cockiness and the way it shifts to fear and panic are so fantastic. Third, as a payoff to the mystery of the hat and how Rumple’s going to use it, it is perfect! It capitalizes on Rumple enthusiasm over following Ingrid’s instructions, intertwines Rumple and Killian’s rivalry that had already been built into the arc (To varying degrees of quality, imho), and sets up a perfect secondary stake for the rest of the arc now that Emma’s has been resolved! Fuck, what else can I even say?! It’s perfection and I LOVE it!

Ask me my top 5 stuff!

[piracytheorist]

Top 5 Killian whumps! :P

1. I mean, the scene where he's suspended by chains in 5x24 is a whole masterpiece on its own, but that... tiny... whimper when Hades says "There's gonna be nobody left to save you" is aajwheegegesjdgeiegeiegeie just pure perfection and I wish I could just easily and quickly describe it to Colin before I fall at his feet and scream You Sir Are A Gift To This World.

2. Another fave moment from 5x14 is when Hades pulls him up by the hair and then Killian is... like... supporting himself on him, because he's just too weak to stand on his own, and the only support from anywhere is his own tormentor. Oh fuck me up.

3. Lying in that hospital bed in 2x12, all bravado and shit because Swan is there and we gotta impress her and also keep up the act but there's only so much pain he can hide. And he's just so cute all bundled up there.

4. 7x08, lying in that tent after the poisoned heart attack. He's so weakened and also the angst is HUGE and then he presses the knight against his heart and hello I cry now

5. Getting his heart stolen by Rumpelstiltskin in 4x08. Angst? Check. Tied up? Check. Scream of pain? Check. Unbridled fear? Check. Gold vs Hook sweetness? BINGO!

[shardminds]

Top 5 Detective Rogers moments!

I JUST ANSWERED THIS BUT I WILL USE THIS AS A OPPORTUNITY TO SAY THAT???? detective Rogers is the sweetest most determined and lovely character and he deserved the entire world. I mean!!!! The way he was so dedicated to the Eloise gardener case??? And blamed himself to a degree for it and still continued to search after years and years and also how he is with tilly constantly? I mean, I know in wish!realm he’s her dad but in Hyperion Heights he’s just helping out a struggling girl and being her anchor when everything got a bit much for her and it was so lovely to see I love him so much I love him please feed me baked goods and play with my hair i’m a lost cause for detective Rogers

[laschatzi]

Fanfic end of year asks: 1, 2, 3

Thank you somuch for asking! I haven’t been very productive this year, but still enough to answer these!

1. favorite fic you wrote this year That would be a 5parter (is that considered a MC? Probably not, I guess), it’s a post 3x20 canon divergence where Zelena’s portal never opens, no time travel happens, and Emma never has the revelation of Storybrooke being her home. So she takes Henry back to New York as planned. Killian follows her, determined to make her accept where she really belongs.

So Far And Out Of Sight

2. least favorite fic you wrote this year Ouch. I love all of my fics, they’re my babies. But let’s say this is a fic I don’t reread as often as the rest (yes, I reread my fics. Often.); also, this is probably cheating a bit, as it’s really just a little ficlet describing the moments before Killian follows Emma through the portal in 3x20. Not Today

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year It’s from So Far And Out Of Sight, a Captain Charming scene from chapter 1: David takes Killian shopping for modern clothes, to equip him “for the world out there... even though the world should probably prepare for you”, and it’s pretty funny, I think:

David is slightly exasperated as he sits there on an uncomfortable chair, watching the pirate parade back and forth in front of a huge mirror, sporting a pair of black (what else?), skin-tight denims that look like they're painted on. Really, sometimes he asks himself how he can even stand the man... but the surprising thing is – he found he can. Somewhere between saving his life in Neverland (in spite of I didn't do it for you, mate) and being tossed around in the dirt in Zelena's barn by the witch and the Dark One while trying to save his baby son, he's started to somehow... grow on David, in a weird way.

“I suppose these will do,” Killian comments and throws a glance over his shoulder. “What do you think?”

David shrugs. “Honestly, these jeans look as uncomfortable as your leather pants.”

“Uncomfortable?” the pirate whirls around, sounding almost insulted. “My breeches are as soft as butter, mate.” He points at himself in the mirror. “Now, these... jeans? They'll soften with time.”

The prince rolls his eyes. “Or you could just pick a larger size?” he suggests, his voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm.

Killian tilts his head and admires for a second the flattering way these modern pants cling to his arse, bringing out the strong curve of the muscles. “I like a snug fit.”

“I'm well aware,” David mumbles grumpily.

“Keeps the valuables where they belong,” Killian comments matter-of-factly and then picks up one of the small cotton garments Emma's father has brought him. “Are these underthings really necessary?”

David runs his hand through his hair, trying to hide his annoyance. There are some things he just doesn't want to know. Hook's obvious habit of going commando is one of them. “You just said your old leathers are... butter soft, right?” he asks.

“Right.”

“Well, denims aren't,” he tells him almost triumphantly. “Especially not when they're as tight as you picked them. And trust me, you do not want your...” –he waves his hand vaguely in Killian's direction and crinkles his nose– “valuables to get intimately acquainted with your zipper while you're... bare.”

Killian points his ringed index finger at Emma's father. “Fair point, mate. Underthings it is then, I guess.”

Send me a Fanfic end of the year ask!

[darkcolinodonorgasm]

@sherlockianwhovian ha risposto al tuo post “The real struggle is choosing between the Red Vest of Sex and the...”

Choosing is for losers, demand it all!!! Haha

A woman after my own heart!! Ahahahah

Both it is xD

[iverna]

Happy Birthday!! ❤ Hope you've had a great day! 🎉🎂

I’m only a little bit late replying to this... thank you!! It was lovely and so are you! 💕

[killian-whump]

Literally every Captain Swan meet-cute ever:

Killian: It’s an angel! ♥ ‿ ♥

Emma: Actually, I’m a prickly bail bondswoman / princess / cop / etc.

Killian: ...and an angel! ♥ ‿ ♥

[the-citrus-scale]

Author Interview: sherlockianwhovian

@sherlockianwhovian is one of the absolute must-read authors for Once Upon a Time, especially if you have a special fondness for that swashbuckling squire Captain Hook, AKA Killian Jones, and his audacious adventures. A great number of other characters are often along for the journey, making sherlockianwhovian’s stories largely appealing to a wide variety of fans. The Citrus Scale is delighted for the opportunity to learn what keeps this writer’s visions afloat! And we're not even a little sorry for the seafaring puns. 

The pirate culture is a popular trope across many fandoms, so it’s no wonder that Captain Hook/Killian Jones struck such a chord with the OUAT fandom. What makes his character so desirable for you to write about?

Killian Jones had me ‘hooked’ from his very first appearance in OUAT. I’ve always been attracted to villains in stories so when Hook arrived on screen, he ticked a lot of boxes for me. As his character evolved through the seasons, we got to know more about him and see the darkness that clearly tempted him after all his years of piracy which only made him more interesting to me.

When I write about a character for the very first time, the idea usually arrives suddenly and doesn’t leave me alone until it’s written - the same thing happened with Killian. It was the season 5 Dark Ones storyline that prompted me to start writing for him, as I was fascinated by the idea of his character struggling to control the darkness that urged him on.

Since I started writing about him as the Dark One a couple of years ago, I’ve explored hundreds of situations, pairings and realms with him and I’ve loved every moment of it. He’s lived for so long in canon, that it’s entirely possible he could have gotten into any of the scrapes from my fics! Killian is a character that you can fill in the gaps of his history, which is so refreshing compared to many characters on shows where it often seems that we know everything about them.

If you could choose another actor to portray Killian, who would it be? Would it change how you write the character?

Colin O’Donoghue is Killian Jones, I’m not sure that another actor could have made him as appealing to me. It’s kind of like Doctor Who, lots of actors have taken up the role but usually there’s only one that is ‘your’ Doctor. Colin is ‘my’ Hook and any other actor in the role just wouldn’t have worked for me.

I only write about characters that connect to me, so had Hook been played by another actor then it’s possible that I wouldn’t have written about him at all!

The pairing of Killian and Emma Swan is in many of your works. What makes them so ‘shippable’ to you? Who would be your second choice ship for Killian? For Emma?

I like how they grow together, he leaves villainy behind and she becomes stronger and more confident in her abilities. Captain Swan first appealed to me as it was Killian’s canon pairing, so in that respect, I probably would have been a fan of whatever canon ship he was involved in. I class myself as a multishipper, so I’m open to all pairings if Killian’s involved!

Read the full interview here ⇠

[cssns]

Hello again everyone! Please help me welcome @sherlockianwhovian back to the CSSNS!!!

I am beside myself to welcome Leanne back to the CSSNS this year! Everyone go say hi and give her some love!

Tumblr Name

@sherlockianwhovian

How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom?

I've been on Tumblr since January 2018 but I've been watching from afar for years :P

When did you start shipping Captain Swan?

Season 2! They had chemistry right from the start and I was 'hooked'! :D

What drew you to this event?

I took part last year and enjoyed it so much that I knew I had to take part this year too! It's so great to get to know more people in the fandom through events like this.

What inspired your topic?

One of my fics is about vampires, which is a supernatural trope that has always appealed to me. I have stacks of vampire books on my bookshelf! My other fic dabbles with myths/legends/gods which I think is a first for me. I've been tempted to delve into a more detailed/complex fic for some time, so this is finally the time!

What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event?

Discovering new fics and art!

I love Leanne’s fics sooo much!!! I can’t wait to see what she has for us when her fics drop on Aug 3 and 31! Everyone go welcome her back!

[thesschesthair]

sherlockianwhovian replied to your post: Killian Jones likes the taste of cough syrup… and...

There are people that don’t like the taste of it…?

literally every person i tell i like the taste of cough syrup to, wrinkles their nose in disgust lool. 

[hollyethecurious]

@sherlockianwhovian​ replied to your photo “Here’s six sentence from my yet to be titled organized crime/mob...”

@hollyethecurious I want bad boy gangster Killian so badly ��

As you wish, my dear! I’m channeling S2 Hook with this one. We’ll see if I can keep him just this side of good form. Actually... what fun would that be??