#CS: she radiates sincerity

[dragonridersandhighlords]

Chasing Shadows | T H R E E

masterlist | CS Masterlist

Summary: Wrenley finds herself on the outside of everything, realizing she’s actively losing the man she loves and starts to lose hope.

Notes: This one kinda feels all over the place but I had to get to this specific ending

Warnings: cheating (on both sides), attempted murder, 

Word Count: 6.3k

previous part

“Fuck! She’s awake!” The panic in the air is palpable as a blade glints ominously under the dim light. The cadet rolls, instinct kicking in, but she’s not quick enough. A sword arcs dangerously close to her back, the momentum sending a chill down my spine as her knees hit the hardwood floor. 

As the dust settles, I finally recognize the cascade of silver-tipped hair framing a face filled with fierce determination. It’s Violet. 

Seven cadets crowd into her small room, an unsettling mix of four unbonded men and three unbonded women, all eyes filled with an intensity that teeters on the brink of chaos. But then, a shiver creeps up my spine—the dark-haired figure standing at the threshold, blocking Violet’s only escape, is a face I never expected to see here. 

No. She wouldn’t dare.

“Guess it won’t do me much good to ask you to leave nicely?” Violet taunts, her voice dripping with malice.

“Damn it! I told you her armor was impenetrable!” One of the boys hisses from the door, frustration radiating off him in waves. 

“I should have killed you during Threshing,” Violet growls, her voice low yet filled with a simmering rage. The tension snaps as one of the girls lunges at her, and Violet darts across the bed, her movements a blur as she makes a beeline for the window, desperate for freedom. A knife whizzes through the air, its aim true, catching the sleeve of Violet’s delicate nightgown—a mere thread of fabric against the brutal reality of their confrontation.

But Violet retaliates with ferocity, her blade finding its mark in the girl’s shoulder, a cruel twist of fate. Yet there’s no time to savor victory; another assailant is already charging at her, and she swiftly turns, slicing at the new threat with a precision that speaks of countless hours of training.

“You have to go for her throat!” I hear Oren’s voice rise above the fray as he closes the distance to Violet, desperation clear in his eyes. “I’ll do it myself.” 

In an instant, the scene escalates further—Violet is lifted off the ground, Oren’s hands tightening around her neck, the chaos spiraling deeper into darkness…

“Wren?” My gaze snaps up to meet Ridoc’s, his brow furrowed in concern as he sits across from me at the long, scarred table of the dining hall. The chatter of fellow cadets buzzes around us, a backdrop of laughter and the clatter of trays, but I feel disconnected still. “You okay? You’ve been staring at your tray for like ten minutes.”

“Fine. Just not super hungry.” I reply, pushing my tray away with a sigh that carries more weight than I intend. My stomach churns with anxiety, the unease bubbling just beneath the surface. “Hey, have you seen Xaden?”

“No, I saw him and Bodhi go somewhere just before dinner.” Ridoc shrugs, his casual demeanor a stark contrast to the growing knot of worry twisting in my gut. 

“Oh.” A flicker of disappointment washes over me; they never mentioned anything to me. What could they possibly be up to? The thought gnaws at me, a small worry worming its way into my mind.

“Hey, a group of us are going to be studying in the commons tonight. You’re welcome to join us.” Ridoc's smile is bright, a genuine warmth radiating from him that feels like a sunbeam breaking through the clouds. It’s probably the most sincere expression I’ve seen from him—no flirting, just a simple invitation to be part of the group. “Most of us aren’t making heads or tails of our history class, and Dain said you were probably the best to help besides Violet.”

“Sure, I’ll meet you guys down there.” I smile back, relief washing over me as I nod to Ridoc, watching him leave to join his friends. 

“Warn Tairn, Violet might be in danger.” I murmur to Desa as I lift my tray to dispose of it.

“Already done. You should eat something, Youngling.” Her tone is firm, laced with the gentle authority she usually has. 

“I’m fine, Desa.” I grumble, and she huffs through our bond, a soft echo of her exasperation that makes me sigh. “I’ll eat in the morning.”

“The Shadow Wielder will not be pleased when he returns.” 

My steps falter in the hall outside the Gathering Hall, the weight of her words sinking in. “Do you know where he is?” I ask, a flicker of hope igniting within me, praying for some kind of answer.

“I do, and you do not need to concern yourself with this.” 

So much for that. With a resigned breath, I move up to my room, gathering my bag before heading down to the commons to wait for the first-years. The familiar tension settles into my shoulders as the shadows lengthen around me.

“Wake, Youngling.” 

The low, urgent voice cuts through the remnants of my nightmare, dragging me into the cold, harsh reality of the present. My heart races, a wild drumbeat echoing in my ears as I jolt upright in bed, sweat clinging to my skin. “What’s wrong, Desa?” My voice trembles, still heavy with the shadows of my dream.

“Tairn’s rider is under attack.” 

The words hit me like a bucket of icy water. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, the wooden floorboards cold against my feet as I scramble to slip into my unlaced boots. My dagger sheaths draw my attention, and I snatch them from where they hang on the bed frame, the metal cool and reassuring in my grip. I bolt down the hall, adrenaline surging through my veins, each heartbeat urging me to move faster.

As I rush toward the first-year dorms, the once-familiar corridors feel foreign, shadows creeping along the walls as panic nips at my heels. I come to a sudden halt outside Violet’s room, the sight that greets me sending a chill down my spine. Five lifeless bodies lie sprawled across the floor, their stillness a stark reminder of my own attack first year. A shiver runs through me, the memory of that night clawing at my resolve.

“Wren?” The voice cuts through my daze; it’s Bodhi, appearing behind me, concern etched on his features. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, Desa warned me. Had to make sure Violet was okay.” My voice falters slightly, the lie hanging in the air like smoke. I turn back to the room, where Xaden is already at Violet’s side, his expression a mask of concentration.

“I know how to handle a corset,” he states, reaching for her vest. 

“Let me.” I step forward, urgency thrumming through me. 

“You knew?” he asks, the question loaded, a sharp edge in his tone. 

I nod, my fingers brushing against the laces, determination igniting within me. “Desa woke me; I got here as quick as I could.” Gently, I tug at the laces, loosening them just enough to reveal the bruising marring her side, dark and angry against her skin. 

“How do you get yourself into this every morning?” Xaden's voice is low as he inspects the bruising.

“I’m freakishly flexible. It’s part of the whole bones-snapping, joints-tearing thing.” 

“You have one hell of a bruise, but I don’t think they’re broken.” Xaden’s voice, steady and clinical, brings a flicker of relief. I resume lacing her back up, a rhythmic tugging grounding me amidst the chaos.

The air in the room is thick with tension, a palpable force that presses against my chest as I stand there, the remnants of adrenaline still coursing through my veins. 

I watch as Xaden kneels beside Violet, his hands deftly maneuvering the laces of her boots with an urgency that belies his calm demeanor. His brow furrows in concentration, and for a brief moment, I catch a glimpse of the fierce protector he is beneath the surface. 

“Come on, Violet,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, coaxing her through the pain as she winces with each movement. “You’re going to have to walk through the pain, and we have to do it fast.” He taps her foot gently, an almost instinctual cue, and she lifts it obediently, allowing him to lace her final boot. 

As he stands, an imposing figure cloaked in resolve, he grabs Violet’s cloak and it billows slightly as he drapes it over her shoulders like a protective shroud. 

“Wren, go back to your room. I’ll come find you,” Xaden commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. A flicker of something ignites within me—a mixture of anger and disappointment, a rising tide of emotions that threaten to spill over.

“Are you going to actually do that or disappear again before we can talk?” I challenge, my arms crossed defiantly over my chest. I refuse to be dismissed so easily, not when the air crackles with unspoken words and buried truths.

“Wrenley.” His warning is low, almost a growl, but I scoff, refusing to let his authority silence me. The heat of my frustration pushes me closer to the edge, the sharpness of my words cutting through the tension in the air.

“Fine, I’ll play along.” I roll my eyes, the sarcasm dripping from my voice as I turn on my heel and make my way back upstairs. Each step feels heavy, the weight of his unvoiced secrets trailing behind me like a shadow I cannot shake off. 

As the door clicks shut, the muted echoes of the corridor fade, leaving only the charged atmosphere of my room. Xaden's piercing gaze meets mine with a tension that feels like a coiled spring, ready to snap. “You saw her attack?” he asks, his voice low and urgent, cutting through the thick silence that lingers between us.

“Hi darling, how are you? Did you have a nice trip wherever the fuck you went?” I retort, each word a careful jab, the remnants of my anger weaving into the fabric of our conversation. I rise from the edge of my bed, arms crossed defiantly, a barrier against the whirlwind of emotions he brings with him.

“Wrenley—” 

“No, you don’t get to come in here and interrogate me when you’ve been hiding things from me.” My voice snaps like a taut string, reverberating in the small space of my room. The look in his eyes—those deep, stormy depths—tells me he knows exactly what I’m talking about.

“It’s not what you think.”

“Isn’t it? Ever since Threshing, you’ve been distant, hiding.” I push, determination fueling each word. “You promised we’d talk over a week ago, and I haven’t seen you since.” 

“I haven’t had the chance—”

“You’ve made that choice, Xaden.” I cut him off, stepping back as if to distance myself from the heat radiating from his presence, a heat that threatens to thaw my simmering anger. “You chose not to talk to me. You chose to disappear.”

“I’m protecting you.”

The words slice through the air, and I let out a sharp, humorless laugh that echoes off the walls. “From what? The truth? Or you?” 

He falls silent, the tension in his jaw tightening, his arms crossing defensively, a silent admission of the turmoil within.

“You don’t get to do that,” I whisper, my voice trembling despite my resolve. “You don’t get to push me away, then pretend it’s noble. I’m not a casualty you can shield.”

“I know that.” His voice softens, yet remains firm. “You’re not. You’re… the only part of my life that still feels like mine.”

My breath catches in my throat, but I refuse to let his words weaken my stance. “Then stop treating me like the enemy.” 

The room falls into a heavy silence, a charged moment where unspoken truths hang thick between us. Finally, he steps closer, the fire in his eyes dimming but still flickering with an intensity I can't ignore. 

“I’m sorry. For disappearing. For not coming to you. But I had to... things are happening.” 

“What things?” I ask, my curiosity laced with caution.

He hesitates, the weight of unshared knowledge pressing down upon him. “I can’t tell you right now.”

“Why?” I whisper, the hurt threading through my voice. “You know I’d help.”

“I know,” he breathes, regret tingeing his words. “And I hate it, but I need you to trust me now.” 

My silence lingers, heavy and uncertain, before I finally murmur, “I don’t know if I can.”

Xaden strides toward my squad at formation the next morning, each step echoing like a drumbeat of authority, his presence commanding the attention of everyone nearby.

“There’s a change to your squad roll,” he announces, his voice cutting through the chatter like a knife. 

“Wingleader?” I feel Dain tense beside me, his posture straightening instinctively as he snaps to attention. In contrast, I cross my arms defiantly, unwilling to give in to the gravity of his words. My gaze remains stubbornly averted, a silent protest against the shift looming over us. “We just absorbed four from the dissolution of the third squad.”

“Yes,” Xaden continues, and I sense the weight of his scrutiny pressing upon me, as if he can see beneath my facade. “Beldon, we’re making a roll change.” 

The squad leader from Second Squad, Tail Section, nods sharply, the formality of the moment underscoring the seriousness of our circumstances. I can almost feel the shifting alliances, the unspoken rivalries threading through the air like an invisible web. 

“Aetos, Vaughn Penley will be leaving your command, and you’ll be gaining Liam Mairi from Tail Section.” 

The name hangs in the air, and Liam’s warm smile greets me as he approaches. 

“I do not need a bodyguard.” Her voice is a whip-crack of defiance, an echo of the protective instincts that always seem to surge within her.

“Liam is statistically the strongest first-year in the quadrant,” Xaden doesn’t acknowledge Violet, still speaking to Dain. “He has the fastest time up the Gauntlet, hasn’t lost a single challenge, and is bonded to an exceptionally strong Red Daggertail. Any squad would be lucky to have him, and he’s all yours, Aetos. You can thank me when you win the Squad Battle in the spring.”

The tension thickens as Violet repeats her protest, a stubborn flicker in her eyes. Xaden steps closer, invading her space with an unyielding presence, the weight of his authority palpable. 

“You do, though, as we both learned last night,” he says, his voice dipping low, conveying an intensity that silences any further objection. “And I can’t be everywhere you are. But Liam here, he’s a first-year, so he can be in every class, at every challenge, and I even had him assigned to library duty, so I hope you get used to him, Sorrengail.”

“You’re overstepping,” she retorts, the challenge sparking between them like dry kindling. 

“You haven’t begun to see overstepping,” he warns, the promise of his words hanging heavy in the air. “Any threat against you is a threat against me, and as we’ve already established, I have more important things to do than sleep on your floor.”

“He is not sleeping in my room,” Viole asserted, her voice sharp as she crossed her arms defiantly.

“Of course not. I had him moved into the one next to yours. Wouldn’t want to overstep.” Xaden's tone is laced with casual authority as he turns on his heel, the crisp fabric of his uniform snapping against the air as he strides away, heading back to reclaim his place at the front of the formation. I watch him go, a mixture of frustration and curiosity swirling in my chest.

“Fucking mated dragons,” Dain seethes beside me, his eyes focused straight ahead, jaw clenched tight enough to shatter glass. The tension radiating from him is palpable, an electric charge that resonates within the ranks of cadets around us.

“Tell me about it,” I mutter, my gaze shifting to the podium where Commandant Panchek is now stepping up, the weight of authority settling on his shoulders like a heavy mantle. The murmurs of my fellow cadets begin to fade as he clears his throat, a signal that commands silence and attention.

Dain and Violet have begun to argue again, the sharpness of their words cutting through the stillness that surrounds us. I can sense the undertow of their conversation is about last night’s chaotic events, an undercurrent of tension that seems to coil tighter with each passing moment.

“It has been brought to my attention as your commandant that a breach of the Codex has occurred,” Panchek calls out, his voice resonating across the courtyard like the tolling of a bell. “As you know, breaches of our most sacred laws are not to be tolerated. This matter will be addressed here and now. Will the accuser please step forward?”

A ripple of anticipation flows through the assembled cadets as Xaden climbs the stairs to the dais. I hear Violet’s whisper behind me, laced with dread, “This is about me.” 

No shit. My heart races, the gravity of her words sinking in like a stone.

“Early this morning,” Xaden begins, his deep voice commanding and steady, “A rider in my wing was brutally, illegally attacked in her sleep with the intent of murder by a group primarily composed of unbondeds.” 

The courtyard erupts in a collection of shocked murmurs and gasps, and I feel Dain tense beside me, the muscles in his shoulders tightening in response to Xaden’s declaration. 

“As we all know, this is a violation of Article Three, Section Two of the Dragon Rider’s Codex and, in addition to being dishonorable, is a capital offense…” He continues, but the words fade into a dull thrum as I glare at him, irritation bubbling beneath the surface when he sites me as a witness along with Bodhi and Garrick. Why am I being dragged into this?

I follow my cousin and friend up the dais, the weight of the moment pressing against my chest as I take my place behind Xaden, a sentinel amidst the rising tension. His silhouette looms large, commanding, and I can feel the ripple of energy that surrounds him—a mix of authority and the palpable desire for justice. 

“But the attack was orchestrated by a rider who fled before I arrived,” he continues, his voice rising like a tempest brewing on the horizon. “A rider who had access to the map of where all first-years are assigned to sleep, and that rider must be brought to swift justice. I call you to answer for your crime against Cadet Sorrengail.” His piercing gaze sweeps across the formation, landing with deliberate weight on one individual. “Wingleader Amber Mavis.”

A jolt of disbelief runs through me, a visceral reaction to the name that slips from his lips. Amber was not just any wingleader; she was a friend, someone I’ve trusted. The thought that she could let her anger lead her to such reckless betrayal churns a knot of confusion in my stomach. It wasn’t like her to break rules, not with the same ferocity as Dain, whose strict adherence to protocol was as unyielding as granite.

“I have committed no such crime!” Amber counters, her voice defiant yet tinged with an undercurrent of hurt. 

In the corner of my vision, I catch Dain and Violet embroiled in yet another heated exchange, their argument a tempestuous swirl of emotions. Suddenly, Dain reaches for Violet, and a surge of protective instinct wells within me. Without thinking, I leap off the dais, my feet striking the ground with determination as I sprint to his side, snatching his wrist in a grip that’s both firm and unyielding. “Don’t even think about it,” I admonish, the words barely leaving my lips before I feel the tension rising.

Xaden had confided in me about Dain’s signet not long after my promotion to Executive Officer, and the unsettling thought that Dain might use it on Violet gnaws at my resolve. What other secrets was he harboring?

“She was with them in my room,” Violet interjects, her voice steady yet strained, as Dain pulls his wrist free from my grip.

“That’s impossible. Let me see,” Dain insists, the edge of desperation creeping into his tone.

“Touch me without permission, and you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it,” Violet threatens, her defiance a fierce flame against the chill of accusation.

“And missing a few fingers,” I promise, stepping between them, my stance firm as Xaden calls for the other wingleaders to gather, the air thick with the impending verdict. Dain looks at me in shock at my threat. 

A sudden tremor of wings catches my attention, and I turn to see Desa and six other dragons land on the citadel walls,including Tairn and Sgaeyl. 

“You’re using this to get your revenge on my family!” Amber shouts, her voice rising above the murmurs, storming toward the dais with fire in her eyes. Her accusation pierces the atmosphere, an arrow aimed directly at Xaden. When Violet nods, signaling she can handle Dain, I move for Amber, ready to stop her if she lashes out. 

“For not supporting your father’s rebellion,” Amber continues, her voice trembling with emotion, as I find myself back on the dais, standing with Garrick and Bodhi, the weight of the moment settling heavy on our shoulders. 

“The wingleaders have formed a quorum and are in unanimous agreement,” Xaden announces, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife, flanked by Nyra and Septon, while the commandant hovers in the background. “We find you guilty, Amber Mavis.”

I sat perched on the edge of the training mat, my eyes flitting between the first-years as they engaged in their rigorous drills. The clang of metal against metal resonated in the air, punctuated by shouts of encouragement and the occasional grunt of exertion. Dain had tasked me with taking notes for the upcoming squad games, his expectation hanging over me like a persistent shadow. 

Rhiannon and Violet had paired up, their movements fluid and calculated, each strike and parry a testament to their growing camaraderie. Nearby, Liam dominated the practice area, his fierce energy palpable as he effortlessly dispatched one cadet after another except for Dain.

“Come on, Wrennie,” Liam called out, his voice laced with playful challenge. “Come spar with me.” 

I couldn’t suppress a roll of my eyes at the nickname he had taken to using. “Do you like looking pretty, Liam? Because I can promise you won't be after our match.” 

“Chicken,” he muttered, retreating to the center of the mat, a smirk dancing on his lips. The playful banter ignited a spark of competition within me, and before I knew it, I was on my feet, adrenaline surging. 

“Alright, asshole,” I laughed, letting my sheaths drop to the edge of the mat with a thud. “Hit me.” 

“Now come on, Wrennie,” he chuckled, shedding his own weapons with a flourish. I lunged first, my fist swinging through the air, barely missing his head as he ducked beneath my strike. 

“That’s not fair,” he protested, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. 

I shrugged, a smile playing on my lips before I aimed a swift kick at his side, retracting my ankle just in time to evade his grasp. “Come on, Li. Show me why you’re on bodyguard duty.” 

Our exchanges turned into a lively dance, kicks and punches flying back and forth, a rhythm of playfulness and skill. But my concentration faltered when I caught a glimpse of Xaden moving nearby, his commanding presence impossible to ignore. 

“You could just talk to him,” Liam remarked, his voice pulling me from my thoughts. 

“Not happening,” I retorted, my gaze drifting past him to where Violet was watching a shirtless Xaden spar with Garrick, her eyes alight with focus. A sigh escaped my lips, and I began to gather my things. “I’m done for the night.” 

“Wren, did you get those notes I asked for?” Dain inquired as he approached, his expression expectant. I pushed the notebook into his hands, feeling a sense of release as I walked away from the gym, the weight of the evening’s tension lifting slightly with each step.

I was walking back from the flight field, a late night flight with Desa to clear my head. The halls lay in silence as I stepped through the threshold from the gauntlet field, the weight of my thoughts echoing in the stillness. The air was thick with the remnants of adrenaline and sweat, but as I turned a corner, a familiar scent drifted into my consciousness—churam, the potent drug that lingered like a forbidden whisper. My heart sank; Tairn and Sgaeyl were undoubtedly up to their usual mischief.

I felt a surge of responsibility course through me. Xaden was somewhere nearby, likely navigating the murky waters of his dragon’s behavior, and I was determined to find him. But then, a moan drifted through the corridor, sending chills racing down my spine.

“Violence.” 

My pulse quickened, a dread settling in my stomach. No… gods no…

“Do not go down there.”

“I have to see for myself,” I insisted, my steps quickening despite the sense of foreboding gnawing at my insides.

“Do not, Youngling.” Her voice was urgent but curiosity and fear propelled me forward.

What I stumbled upon made my heart plummet. Xaden had Violet cradled against him, his hands possessively gripping her hips, her fingers tangled in his dark hair as their bodies melded against the cold stone wall. I felt the world close in around me. 

In a moment of shock, my flight goggles slipped from my grasp, crashing to the ground with a crash of glass lenses shattering on concrete. The sound pulled them apart, and for a heartbeat, our eyes locked—my breath still from disbelief.

“Wren—” Xaden began, but I couldn’t bear to hear more. I turned on my heel, my heart racing, and fled down the corridor, each hurried step echoing the chaos whirling in my mind. 

As I dashed into the second-year hall, I nearly collided with Ridoc, his casual demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil roiling inside me. 

“Hey, Wrenley. You okay?” he asked, a look of concern etched on his features. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Have you been with anyone tonight?” I blurted, urgency leaking into my tone.

“Youngling, this is a terrible idea.”

“So was thinking they could resist the mating bond,” I shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface. 

Ridoc shrugged, nonchalant. “No, just going for a walk.” 

“Good.” I wrapped my fingers in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him close as I backed myself against the wall. “Kiss me.” 

“Listen, I’ve dreamed about this but Xad—” 

“Xaden’s currently making out with Violet. So you can either kiss me right now or I’ll find someone else who will.” 

His hesitation hung in the air, heavy, before his lips finally met mine. 

Holy shit. Why is this first-year such a good kisser? 

Ridoc’s hands gripped my hips, firm and steady, drawing a quiet moan from deep within me, and in that moment, clarity shattered through the fog of my earlier shock. 

What the fuck am I doing? 

I pushed back against Ridoc’s chest, breaking the kiss with a gasp, but his hands remained anchored at my sides. “Ridoc—”

“Get your hands off her, first-year.” Xaden’s voice echoes down the hall, low and furious, commanding attention.

I could see Ridoc poised at the edge of uncertainty, ready to respond, but I couldn’t let this confrontation escalate. “Walk now,” I urged him, my voice a whisper. I could feel the weight of the moment pressing in on us, and I didn’t want to drag Ridoc into this. He hesitated, searching my eyes for reassurance, and when I nodded, he stepped back, the spark of confusion still dancing in his gaze.

“Thanks for probably the best kiss of my life,” he said, laughter threading through his words, a stark contrast to the brewing storm behind me. As he turned away, the brightness of his presence faded, leaving me enveloped in the oppressive darkness of my tangled emotions.

“Upstairs,” Xaden growled, his tone brooking no argument as he advanced towards me, each step heavy with unspoken fury. 

“You don’t tell me what to do.” I met his glare with defiance, striding towards the stairs that would lead me away from the chaos of this moment. 

“I can either tell you as your boyfriend or order you as your Wingleader.” The weight of his words hung in the air between us, deliberate and slow, as if he were carefully measuring the distance that had grown in the wake of his betrayal. His hand reached out, capturing my arm with an iron grip that sent a surge of irritation through me.

“Ex.” I corrected him sharply, pulling my arm from his hold as if it burned. “The minute you kissed her, you became my ex-boyfriend.” The finality of my words echoed in the silence, a stark declaration that felt both liberating and suffocating.

“Wrenley—” He started, but I cut him off, the name on my lips sharp and unforgiving.

“Leave me alone, Riorson.” I snapped, the use of his last name a calculated blow. 

With that, I turned on my heel and ascended the stairs, my heart pounding in time with each step. The world around me blurred, the hall fading into a haze of muted colors as I retreated into the sanctuary of my room. 

In the quiet that enveloped me, I sank down onto my bed, the soft comforter a stark contrast to the turmoil roiling within. Each breath I took felt heavy, laced with the remnants of Ridoc’s kiss and the bitter taste of Xaden’s betrayal. I pressed my palms against my temples, willing the confusion to dissipate, but the emotions only twisted tighter, a storm of conflict that refused to settle. 

This was not how it was supposed to be. The hope of what I thought we had was crumbling around me, leaving behind only the shards of memories. 

The air in the Battle Brief room felt electric, a charged undercurrent that echoed the tension swirling in my heart. I sat at the table, tracing the contours of the map with my eyes, my mind a whirlpool of thoughts that refused to settle. The heavy silence around me pulsed with unspoken words, and I could feel the weight of Bodhi’s gaze boring into the side of my head, an anchor to my spiraling emotions.

“Will you talk to him? Please?” Bodhi pleaded, dropping into the seat beside me with a sense of urgency that made me flinch. The way he leaned forward, his brow furrowed with concern, only deepened the ache in my chest. I didn't even glance his way, keeping my focus locked on the intricate lines of the map before me.

“Nope,” I replied curtly, my voice devoid of any softness. My eyes remained trained on the colors and symbols, as if they held the answers to a riddle I couldn't decipher. 

“Wren–” Bodhi’s voice broke with a hint of desperation, a tone that felt achingly familiar yet infuriatingly misplaced.

“If you dry humped the girl you swore wouldn’t get between you and your girlfriend, would you expect to be forgiven?” I snapped, my words slipping out sharper than I intended, slicing through the air and drawing the attention of those around us like a flash of lightning. The moment felt like a spotlight illuminating my simmering rage, and I swallowed hard, fighting against the heat rising in my cheeks.

“He did what?” My cousin’s voice rumbled from behind me, a growl of disbelief that cut through the murmur of the room. I could feel his heated gaze, a burning scrutiny that threatened to pierce my defenses, but I didn’t turn around. I didn’t want to see the disappointment etched on his face, the worry that lingered in the air like smoke.

“Are you okay?” Sawyer popped up from the row in front of me, concern etched across his features. His voice was a lifeline, but I refused to grasp it. 

“Fine, ready for class. Drop the topic.” My tone was clipped, a hard shell to protect the tender wound lying beneath the surface. I could feel the shadows curling around my knee, familiar tendrils that sought to draw me into their comforting embrace. But today, their presence felt suffocating, a reminder of Xaden’s betrayal that clung to me like a second skin.

I tried to brush them off, to reclaim my space, but they returned, as relentless as my thoughts. One of them snaked around my wrist, securing itself in a grip that felt both possessive and binding, an echo of what I wanted to escape. With every passing moment, it became harder to ignore the connection that still tethered me to him, no matter how much I wanted to sever it.

As Bodhi leaned closer, the weight of his concern settled on my shoulders like a heavy cloak. “Wren, you can’t ignore this forever. He needs you.”

I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to scream. Did he really think it was that simple? “I don’t care how he feels,” I said, my voice low but resolute. The truth was that I did care—deeply. But the thought of facing Xaden, of confronting the raw emotions swirling within me, felt insurmountable.

The clock ticked away the seconds, each chime a reminder that time was moving forward, even as I felt stuck in this moment, this suffocating reality. I took a deep breath, steeling myself against the rising tide of emotions that threatened to break through when we were dismissed from class. 

The air in my room felt thick when I finally made it upstairs. I leaned heavily against the armoire, its wooden surface cool against my back, and willed myself to breathe through the tumult of emotions that surged within me. 

As if conjured by my thoughts, Xaden’s voice floated over from my desk. “You ready to talk now, Little Bird?”

My heart raced, and I practically jumped out of my boots at the sound of his voice, the term he always used—a nickname wrapped in layers of history, affection, and now, betrayal. “Don’t call me that,” I snapped, the words sharper than intended.

“I’ve always called you that,” he replied, a hint of stubbornness threading through his tone as he lifted his boot-clad feet, resting them on my desk as if claiming territory he no longer had the right to. His casual demeanor belied the tension crackling in the air, but I could feel it, thick like fog, suffocating and inescapable.

“My family and friends call me that,” I retorted, crossing my arms tightly over my chest, a futile attempt to shield my heart from the reality of the situation. “You aren’t either of those things.”

His face softened, a flicker of something—regret, perhaps?—crossing his features. “Tairn and Sgaeyl forgot to shield last night. That’s all it was.” The way he dismissed it, so effortlessly, ignited a fresh wave of anger within me.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I recalled the past. “You used to go out, smoke a little, and then come sit in my room while I finished homework.” My arms tightened around myself, an unconscious shield against the vulnerability clawing at my insides. “You weren’t planning to see me last night at all.”

I held my breath, watching him for a reaction. We both knew it was true; the unspoken acknowledgment hung between us like a dark cloud, heavy and oppressive.

“We should just call it now, Xay. We weren’t going to survive after graduation.” The words spilled out of me, bitter and raw, a resignation that echoed in the hollow of my chest.

“I don’t know why you’re suddenly so set on us being done.” He stood, closing the distance between us with a determination that sparked both hope and dread within me. “We survived this long. I’m not giving up on us.”

I took a deep, shaky breath, my resolve wavering as the sting of unshed tears threatened to break free. “You and Violet will always be together, every station, every mission. I’ll get sent somewhere else after I graduate.” My voice cracked, and I hated how weak I sounded, how the reality of our impending separation clawed at my heart with relentless fingers.

“And if I said I’d marry you right after my graduation?” His gaze pierced through the air, searching for something in my eyes, a flicker of hope perhaps.

“You wouldn’t be doing it because you love me.” The words felt like a knife, sharp and painful as I forced them out. “You’d be doing it to prove a point. So please—please—just let this go.”

He nodded slowly, his shoulders sagging under the weight of my refusal, and as he turned toward the door, a heaviness settled in the room, almost tangible. “I already re-did the wards on your room, by the way.” He paused, casting a glance back at me, and in that fleeting moment, I saw a younger version of him—a boy who had once promised me the world, who had held my hand through nightmares. “No one can enter without your permission. Not even me.”

I nodded, my heart aching at the finality of his words, as he opened the door, the wood creaking softly in the quiet. “Xaden,” I called out, desperation lacing my voice.

He glanced back, and for a heartbeat, time hung still. 

“I do still care about you. I just can’t in the way I always have.”

“I understand.” The admission felt like a stone dropped in a still pond, rippling outwards, creating waves of loss and longing. “Good night, Wrenley.”

And then he was gone.

next part

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[snowbellewells]

Let the Reins Go Loose

This is a new experiment for me, but I am attempting to write a bit of a daddies bonding one shot for Wish!Hook/Rogers and David/Charming.  I didn’t do much writing that actually followed along with the season 7 storyline while it was happening. (Not that I didn’t like it, I was just doing more straight AU or imagining what could be happening with CS back in Storybrooke.)  However, if all of the realms are now joined, I could see Wish!Hook and his daughter (and Robyn) spending some time with our original cast in Storybrooke. I can also imagine Rogers/Wish!Hook and David Nolan becoming mates and having a lot in common, just as Charming did with Killian Jones before him.  So, I offer you this little bit of papa angst and friendship/understanding for Captain Charming Friday – though it’s really more of a Rogers Charming brotp (if that’s even a thing! ;)

“Let the Reins Go Loose”

By: snowbellewells (TutorGirlml on ff.net)

 Chuckling lightly, Joel Rogers shook his head in happy disbelief watching the three horses and their young riders cantering through the tall grass in the late spring meadow.  Tilting his head back to savor the light breeze caressing his face and tickling through the short tufts of his dark hair, the man both a former detective and former pirate, still enjoyed a comforting distant hint of salt sea air in the gust, even though they were some distance from his beloved ocean waves.

The other man standing just to his right clapped a strong hand to Rogers’ shoulder companionably, offering a brilliant smile as well to his new friend.  “See? Didn’t I tell you not to worry?” he offered in that deep, jovial voice, an assured resonance that allowed the former police officer from Hyperion Heights a glimpse into just why an entire realm’s subjects would follow this man as King without hesitation.  Though Dave Nolan bore none of the selfish, cruel, and egotistic traits of most other rulers in Hook’s long experience over two lives’ worth of memories, there was a certainty, a leadership, that radiated from the shepherd-king and which one inherently trusted.  “I had a feeling she’d be a natural.”

Rogers cocked an eyebrow quizzically at his mate, before turning his attention back once more to his Alice, Robyn Mills, and Dave’s son Neal, enjoying their horseback riding in the large field just at the edge of the deep woods – the marker where Storybrooke melted into the old Enchanted Forest on the east and Arendelle’s borders to the north. “And just how did you ascertain that?” he questioned playfully.

The sandy-haired deputy (part-time these days) looked more at ease than ever, spending most of his time as a simple country farmer with some sheep to tend, watched the riders loping and criss-crossing before them as well, eyes almost misty and voice far away.  He sounded thoughtful and deeply sincere when he answered,  “Let’s just say she reminds me of someone else who was much the same.”

Rogers swallowed hard over the lump that had formed seemingly from nowhere in his throat.  “Your own daughter, Dave?” he husked, voice a bit raspy while he clarified. “…Your Emma?”

David merely nodded, clearly not trusting his voice for the moment.  He didn’t meet the dark haired man’s all-too-intuitive gaze, as for the moment he was putting up a valiant fight not to shed real tears in front of his new friend – and also somehow a version of his son-in-law – at the usually buried emotions that had risen quickly to the surface without warning as he’d been observing his now teenaged son and the two young women he had bonded easily with. Somehow the ghost of his beloved daughter, whom he had never gotten to see at this age had floated once more into his mind’s eye. Though he and Snow had enthusiastically gifted Neal with his first mount, a shaggy brown pony affectionately named Cocoa and still with them, retired to pasture and often found lazing under a shade tree in the paddock’s corner with Wilby the Second by his side, for their son’s eighth birthday and shown him every detail of how to feed, groom, saddle, ride, and cool down his steed with as much delight as the boy himself, none of that painstaking care could erase the fact that he hadn’t been able to do the same for his eldest until she was his own age and a mother herself.  When he had finally taken Emma riding, it was only after her repeated, determined insistence that there was no need (probably only overcome by her husband’s gentle persuasion that ‘one never knew; it might come in handy’ and the leering jest he didn’t realize his father-in-law had overheard about the ‘pleasant bonus that the rocking motion one enjoyed in a full canter wasn’t unlike that of other, more enjoyable activities’ – to which, at his winking nod, Emma had capitulated and agreed to give riding a try) and that she didn’t require any help.  Painfully, David had to watch without offering the fatherly assistance he could have and see her frustration turn into anger as several attempts at mounting the horse led to a fall flat on her backside in the dirt and a hot, sweaty, irritated Sheriff seated in the saddle, and it wasn’t until a frightening moment of nearly being dragged by her startled horse when Emma dismounted with her wrist somehow tangled in the reins, thumped into her steed’s side with enough force to spook him and send him skittering with her still connected – his heart had been in his throat and David was still thanking the gods that he’d been lingering close enough to latch onto the spooked creature’s bridle before it could take off in earnest – and the resultant sprained wrist that left Emma on desk duty and forced to watch he and Killian take on the more physical jobs in the sheriff station for nearly two weeks, that Emma had finally accepted his instruction willingly and mastered riding.  Though he wouldn’t take back the time it had allowed him to spend with her – they had less now that Killian and she often patrolled together since he’d joined their Storybrooke “force” as a second deputy and he’d gone part-time to be home when Neal returned from school in the afternoons, handle the evening farm chores, and help Snow in the evenings as she often had numerous papers to grade along with older students and more complex subject matter – thankful for once that the princess moment he had imagined for his daughter could be somewhat recovered from the pile of so many forever lost, David couldn’t help thinking how much easier it would have been to teach her as she should have been: an eager, trusting child on a pony just her size, handpicked specifically for her, and in a world where riding was necessary and had daily, obvious use.

He shook his head free of the encroaching, unwanted melancholy thoughts at the sound of Rogers’ voice breaking through, a resigned bit of sadness tingeing his words, “ ‘Twill never really go away, will it?” Alice’s father asked softly, having clearly waited until his child had looped around closer to him with a wide, ecstatic smile spread across her face, eyes alight as she called out enthusiastically, ‘Look, Papa!  We’re riding!  Isn’t it wonderful?!?’ and then rode away again, before speaking.

Blinking, David forced himself fully back into the present, chuckling as he saw Alice nearing Neal and Robyn again and Neal attempting to impress both young ladies by galloping full speed right to the edge of the trees, only to stand on the moving horse’s back, right up to a sturdy, low-hanging branch and swing into the tree in one fluid motion. His mount was well-trained and used to his antics, merely turning when he felt his rider’s weight gone and trotting back to where Neal could drop onto his back lightly once again.  Both Robyn and Alice whooped and clapped at his antics, causing Neal to flush brightly even as he grinned and offered them a seated partial bow.

Shaking his head, David knew he should once again warn his son not to become overconfident and lose care when riding, but he couldn’t say too much, when he knew he had probably practiced similar tactics when he and Snow had taken to the forest long ago, on the run from – and then fighting back against – two dangerously powerful usurper monarchs.  Instead, he turned his attention back to Rogers’ query.  “What won’t go away?” he asked, though he sensed he was already well aware of the answer.

The other man’s gaze fell to his feet, swallowing deliberately before replying, “The regret… the sense that you failed your child, that she had to get by on her own, without you… without anyone.  And though…” he licked his lip, as if needing to pause and moisten them again, gather his thoughts and emotions before he could continue, “…though you would have given anything to be there when she needed you… it doesn’t change the fact that you missed so much – too much – of her life.”

David nodded, shielding his eyes with his hands as he gazed out to the tree line and somewhat into the setting sun.  Though the sandy-haired royal was squinting and not directly meeting his eyes, the recently retired detective could work out the real reason easily enough and took no offense.  Both of their emotions were far too close to the surface, and perhaps Dave sensed neither of them need bear the full scrutiny of the other’s eye while they made confessions held so close to the heart – not when each had possibly found comfort in the only other listening ear who could possibly understand the burden he carried.  Losing a child – knowing that child was still a young, vulnerable little girl, left alone in the world to fend for herself, when as a father both of them felt charged with protecting her – was a sort of pain one didn’t shake.  It wasn’t easily purged nor commiserated with – unless one found another person who had made a similar such sacrifice.

When the prince did speak, his words were quietly measured as though offered with much careful thought and the wisdom of experience.  “Do I ever know what you mean there,” he offered with a gentle shake of his head, hand lowering to his side before continuing, “Still, no matter how much we might wish it, we can’t go back.  None of us can change our pasts, for better or worse.  All we can do – and we can aim for – is to be here for them now; really live in the present and hope to give all they need as young adults.  There’s no way to make up for what we missed in their childhoods, but we can appreciate the moments we still have.  I told Emma that once – even if I can’t help but have regrets and forget it myself sometimes.  Life is made up of moments – good and bad – and the good ones aren’t all gone.  Even quiet, simpler moments are worthwhile, and that’s what we have more of before us now, if we’ll take them.”

Rogers nodded to that thoughtfully, silent other than the quiet affirmation, and his eyes focused somewhere off in the middle distance, partially watching his mostly-grown daughter happy and at ease, and partially in his mind or memory, in a time that could no longer be reached. “Aye,” was the simple response he offered when he seemed to return from his reverie.  “I believe my counterpart here, your son-in-law, even mentioned that to me when last we spoke in town.  Your daughter must have taken your advice to heart.  He said they’ve made it a bit of a family motto – to live for those moments.”

David Nolan offered a small smile, the pleased expression lighting his visage as he nodded along with what his new friend told him.  It was infinitely good to know he had still managed to impart a little fatherly wisdom to his grown child.  No matter how old Emma was or how long he lived, he would still endeavor to do so when he could. Even if, much like the young people they watched reveling before them, calling to each other uproariously and laughing in the gentle early evening breeze, he mostly had to loosen his grip, let his eldest have her head and find her own way in the world, it was never an easy task for a doting father to manage.

Giving one more small, pragmatic quirk of the mouth toward his new mate, David turned and raised his arm, giving the motion to come in for the evening to the youths before them, watching with pride as Neal read his signal, wheeled his steed around, and began to lead his companions back in a race across the pasture.

It was at least some small comfort to see the light of understanding in his companion’s gaze – those startlingly blue eyes displaying the same amalgam of bittersweet melancholy and gentle pride as the three riders drew near that David knew must haunt his own.  He supposed that if he must let go, it was better to have another father at his side struggling to do the same and experiencing a matching sense of pain and reward that came with allowing one’s children to grow up and fly free.  Though the time they could hold them close and shield them from the world had been stolen from them – and it was tempting to cling too tight in response – it was a process, releasing that hold and turning them loose… made all the more treasured in those moments when their offspring chose to return.

Tagging a few I hope will enjoy: @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @flslp87 @hollyethecurious @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @branlovesouat @jennjenn615 @celestial-fire-writer @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @jackieorioncat @duathadun @blackwidownat2814 @winterbaby89 @revanmeetra87 @ultraluckycatnd @bromfieldhall @flipperbrain @capswantrue @kiwistreetswan @wordsmith-storyweaver @psymplemind @snidgetsafan @linda8084 @bmbbcs4evr @aloha-4-ever @scientificapricot @laughswaytoomuch @vvbooklady1256

[youraverageshipper]

CS ff: “Want”

There were a lot of dumb decisions Emma made in her life. But walking away from Killian that night three months ago was probably the dumbest.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3k+

AN: Listen, I am not a good writer nor do I write at all, but a few months ago I really wanted to read something of a im-in-love-with-my-roommate’s-sister type of angsty trope but I realized that writing angst and reading angst are two very different things ma dude. So, here is a 3000+ word drabble (is this a thing?) I thought if this was in my docs I may as well share it.

Also on Ao3

This is unbeta’d so excuse the mistakes!

He turned around just in time to look at her entering the door.

And she looked just as beautiful as ever.

His Swan.

No, scratch that. Emma Swan. That's all she was. Not his Swan, no matter how much he wanted it to be.

She was smiling while looking at Ruby and Mary Margaret and that was enough to make his entire world stop spinning.

She was David's little sister, not by blood, but no one could tell the difference either way. That's how he met her, when he moved into David's apartment. He almost wished he hadn't, because at least she wouldn't be off limits. Though he's sure David wouldn't mind if he got together with her.

She looked at him and gave a half smile. But, she moved her gaze before he could smile back.

He sighed. God he wanted her.

But ever since that one night three months ago, she almost kept him at arm's length.

He didn't want to be at arm's length.

He wanted to be near her.

With her.

Hold her.

Kiss her.

God did he want to.

But well life never works the way you want

It was late and they were alone in the apartment because it was snowing outside and he very well couldn't let her go anywhere.

So he did what he would do in any other situation.

He asked her to stay.

She hesitated, but agreed anyway probably because she was tired, not because she actually wanted to be in the same vicinity as him. Or at least that's what he thinks.

They were joking around and they were sitting on the same couch almost too close for comfort.

But he didn't care.

And with the way she was leaning with her head on his shoulder made him believe she didn't either.

Until she did.

“What's with the necklace you wear, Swan?”

Her entire body froze and he could almost feel the discomfort radiating off of her and she didn't speak for a good whole-lot-of-seconds.

She looked at him and opened her mouth to say something and it was definitely not what he thought it would be, “uh, I...I think I'm gonna go sleep.”

She got up faster than light and his body ached after losing her warmth but he couldn’t just let her go.

He suddenly caught her wrist before she was going to bolt, “wait, Emma...you don't have to leave.”

“I’m sorry, Killian…please...just...I can’t do this.” And she turned around and left.

And that was that, the end of the only night he was ever left alone with Emma Swan. She left the next day without saying goodbye. I mean, did he honestly expect her to?

She behaved civil with him whenever they saw each other after that night. Probably for appearances sake he thought.

She didn't talk about that night.

Well she didn’t really talk to him in general.

He wanted to, oh did he want to.

He desperately wanted to ask what went terribly wrong that night?

All he did was ask a question?

Maybe he should've just kept his mouth shut and not asked anything at all.

However, in his defense, he lost all of his sense of rational thinking the moment she leaned on his shoulder.

She was miserable. She didn't want to be at this stupid party with the good looking stupid guy she wish she wasn't halfway in love with.

There were a lot of dumb decisions Emma made in her life. But walking away from Killian that night three months ago was probably the dumbest.

She wanted to tell him, god did she want to.

But she's a coward and it scared her to death that she wanted to tell him about what the necklace meant, even though she barely knows him that well.

But whenever she's with him it always feels like she's known him forever.

And well that scares her. Because she's Emma. And why shouldn't it? It's a scary thing to feel.

She's not even sure if she wants to feel it.

But well she does.

And it's getting out of hand because he's at this stupid party wearing his stupid vest looking stupidly gorgeous-beyond-possible with his brooding smolder and she's not sure that her words are making sense at this point.

It doesn't matter.

Because she wants to leave.

And more than three fourth of the people are gone but well this is Mary Margaret and her constant persistent to ask her to stay, to live her life, and maybe talk to certain someone about how she feels.

She almost gaped at Mary Margaret when she said that. And she winked.

How dare She?

Was she that obvious? God she hoped she wasn't.

Emma was pathetic

She should talk to Killian. She really should. But also what would she say?

“Oh hey yeah! I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the past three months and I'm halfway in love! Sorry for going to bed that night, can we make-out now?”

God even her made up scenarios were just as pathetic as she was.

She saw him from the corner of her eye talking to Maddy. Who looked too close to him than necessary. He laughed at something she said.

Her stomach flipped with jealousy.

How dare she get close to her Killian?

Wait, WHAT?

Her Killian?

She has no right over him, right? I mean, if she's too much of a coward to say anything, he's allowed to be whoever he wants to be with.

Is he not?

He looked at her and gave her his earnest smile, which she didn't quite return. Because she was a coward. He sighed and turned his attention back to Maddy. He barely looks interested.

Almost as if he wants to leave as well.

Maybe she should ask him to leave with her.

Where did that come from?

You know exactly where it came from Emma.

“Ugh….” She groaned with her head in her hands. Could this night be any worse?

So she did what she always does. She grabbed the nearest bottle of beer and left for the rooftop.

As far away from her problems.

Or one problem.

Single problem.

Killian.

He was her only problem.

He looked over at Mary Margaret who passed out on the couch with David beside her. He smiled, they were a very fairy-tale like couple. True love and all that.

He looked around and realized there was really no one except for his friends half passed out or rambling about some nonsense.

Had she left already? Without him noticing?

He sighed. Grabbed a bottle of beer and went up to the roof.

She was last person he expected to see standing at the edge of railing.

He walked towards her, “Swan?”

She jumped back, “what the fuck, Jones?? You scared the shit out of me.” She almost screamed the words at him.

He winced, “ah, sorry love, I didn't mean to startle you.”

“Well you're doing a great job so far.” She huffed.

“Are we alright Emma?”

“Are we alright Emma?”

Out of all thing she did not expect him to say that. .

“What? Yes of course, why would you say that?” She asked him cautiously. Even though deep down she knew why.

He sighed, “I don’t know...um ever since that night…” She could feel her insides turning upside down at the mention of that night, “I guess asking that question wasn't my business and I didn't mean to push you to stay,” he looked down and gave her half a smile, “I guess I was just desperate to be in your company for a little while longer.”

“We have been in each other’s company even after that night, Killian. It’s not that serious.” She deadpanned.

Honestly what bullshit was she spitting this time? She wasn’t even aware of what she was saying because she was so focused on the hurt she could see in his eyes, and this time he didn’t even try to mask it.

He looked down, “Yeah I know love, not that serious . But if something’s ever bothering you I’m still here you know,” he took her chin is hand and pulled her head to his gaze, “if you want me to be of course.” He said softly.

The sincerely in his eyes almost made her jump his bones or melt into a pool.

Either, or.

Her insides were screaming to tell him everything about how she felt.

She still couldn’t.

But did she want to.

“Well I’m good but I’ll keep that in mind Jones.”

He let out a disappointed sigh and let go off her chin, “Right, well,” did he have something else to say? Why was he staring into her soul?

And boy, she never thought he would do this.

He leaned in and kissed her cheek and let out a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Good night, Emma. Take care of yourself.”

She stood there frozen. Not being able to move or even reply back to him. Take care of yourself? What the fuck does that even mean? Was he ending this?

Wait, was there anything to even to end? She never really let it begin did she?

Maybe it was time she finally let it all out.

He walked downstairs to his car and leaned against it. He felt lost. Broken. And empty.

He realized it was finally time to accept that Emma Swan never wanted anything more than a friendship from him. Or even a friendship.

He felt totally lost. Did he mention broken?

He dug his nails in his palm; strong enough to make them bleed.

He never smokes. But well this calls for an occasion and Will left his pack in the drawer thing of his car. What is that thing called anyway? He's pretty sure it's not a fucking drawer. Honestly who even cares at this point.

He glanced around the parking lot and saw her walking towards him.

Did she have a few more things to say to break him more or something?

“You know those things will kill you."

He didn't say anything. She sighed and leaned beside him on the car, “did Will leave them around in your glove compartment?”

He stared at her speculatively, “glove compartment.”

He could look at the confusion that took over half of her face, “it's called a glove compartment.” He continued.

“Okay…… are you drunk?”

He snorted, “no, but I wish I was.”

She looks at him, “okay that literally makes no sense..”

“Did you need something, Emma?” He cuts her off  and could see the incredulous look on her face over his sudden change in demeanor.

“What?” she asked, softly.

He even somehow felt more angrier at her simple ‘what’ as if she didn’t know what was really going on.

He ran his hand through his hair to the back of his neck and exhaled, “I mean, if you don’t need anything I think there’s really not much for us to do here.”

Why the hell was he suddenly acting like this? Had she done something? Okay well, that’s a stupid question.

But still.

He never talked to her like this.

She sighed softly, closing her eyes. Not letting her emotions get the best of her and asked, “What's wrong?”

He scoffed, “are you kidding me, darling?”

She snapped her head at him, “don’t calling me that.”

He rolled his eyes, ignoring her.

Emma pulled herself away from beside him--wrapped her hands around herself and stood in front of him and demanded. “Well, are you going to answer me?”

His shoulders sagged a bit, like he was tired and...broken. “What do you want me to say Emma? That didn’t hurt? When you walked away that night and completely ghosted me like I never meant anything to you? And don’t even try to deny there was nothing between us Emma, because I’m sure you felt it too.” His voice cracked a bit at the end and she didn’t know what to say. But he continued before she even had a chance, “I realize I overstepped, and honestly for that, I truly am sorry.”

She stared at him blank and empty, the apology that he deserved back and the truth at the tip of her tongue.

But nothing came out.

He sighed, “Well, don’t worry about it Swan, I’m just gonna take my leave.”

“Killian wait,” she reached out for his hand, “please.”

Well, she didn’t think two seconds ahead. What would happen after he stopped? Was she even expecting him to stop?

“I...uh…” she fidgeted with her hands. God she was so nervous. She couldn’t even hear her next words over her heartbeat. “I dated a guy a while ago. A long while ago, and well to put it short he wasn’t who he said he was,” she looked at his hands, thumb pressing into the palm of his left hand, and finally forced herself to look at him; a mix of confusion and hope on face. He nodded, urging her to continue.

“The reason I wear that necklace is because that was from him. I didn’t keep it as a sentiment to my first love, but as a reminder. That i should never trust anyone ever again. That going through pain for love…just isn't worth it.”

At this point her heart wasn’t beating any slower, or it did not make her breathing easier. Particularly when Killian took a step towards her, hand landing on her shoulder, “I’m sorry, love,

I didn’t know that.”

She laughed a bit, “yeah well a lot of people don’t.”

“I, uh, walked away that night…”

He cut her off, “You don’t have to explain yourself, Swan.”

“Yes I do, you deserve that.”

She continued, “I walked away not because I was scared of telling you about what it meant, but because I wasn’t scared at all. I wanted to tell you...and well that scared me about what it meant.” He was either about to open his mouth to say something, or almost reach for her? She's quite oblivious to what's going on around her at this point, “no, please don’t, let me finish.” He nodded. “Then you went ahead and asked me not to say anything that night because you knew I couldn't say anything and no ones one's ever been able to read me like that before, and well again, that scared me too.” She sighed, “being with you, I’ve never felt so much at ease before. You make me feel alive and safe, and I haven’t felt this way in a very long time.”

She looked at him and saw his eyes move all over her face, as if he couldn’t quite believe that this was happening. “This past three months, I don’t think I have felt more miserable. And Yes I know it’s all my fault. But I...I was just so scared about letting my walls down, and letting you in. I just did what I always do,” she left out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. There are so many emotions bottled inside her right now that she feels like she's going to burst. It physically kills her to admit all of this to him, but there's no backing out now. “I ran. Without giving you any explanation. I put all my walls back up just thinking about how much this could hurt both of us ..I just...I’m really sorry Killian. Please know that I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m sorry that everything turned out this way...I didn’t mean to fall for you.” Emma didn’t feel the tears until she felt his hand brush them away from the apple of her cheek.

He couldn’t quite believe his own ears. Was Emma Swan just laying all her feeling about him out in the open? He didn’t say anything, because at this point there wasn’t much he wanted to say except just do one thing. He took a step forward, hand tugging her hair behind her ear, and the other landing beneath her chin, “Emma,” he could feel her squirming under his scrutiny. “Come on love, look at me.” She sighed and finally looked at him and he can see the courage it took her to do that after laying all her feeling out in the open. Then he all but pulled her into him and crashed his lips onto hers. And boy, did he feel alive in that moment.

She let out a soft oomph of surprise, but it took her not more than a second to reciprocate. Both hands curling around his neck, into his hair. Her lips feeling as soft as they look. This shouldn’t have felt as romantic as it did. Him kissing her in the middle of David and Mary Margaret’s apartment parking lot. Not much finesse in their kiss. But it felt just as it was supposed to. She moved forward, trying to back him into his car. Pressing herself into him and he groans, a desperate noise. But the car was a little further away than she anticipated and she suddenly lost control of her weight and fell forward, backing him into his car with a thud that was quite forceful. She laughs against his lips, sending a bit of wave into him that settled at the pit of his stomach.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t ever have to apologize for kissing me like that, love.” She smacked his shoulder with her hand and he caught it and kissed her knuckles, all without breaking eye contact. He could physically feel her breath going short. “Stop looking at me like that.” “Like what?” He asked with a smirk. His fingers landing on her hips. “I don’t know,” she waved her hand in the air like that proved anything, “however that is.” He laughed, tugging her closer to him, and looked at her with some kind of certainty in his eyes, “you also don't have to apologize for falling me, Emma…ever. Because it may be the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I may have also fallen for you a long time ago. Very hard if I must say.” She meets his eyes and doesn't say anything just leans forward and plants a soft kiss on his lips. This one much slower and meaningful than the last one. He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on hers and they both smile. “Oh fucking finally,” they both jump and break apart at the voice to see Ruby, Liam, and Elsa staring at the both of them with bright smiles. They both roll their eyes and laugh, “did Emma finally come to her senses??” Ruby asks. She glares at her and pretends to be offended. “I'm so happy for you both! Can't wait for Mary Margaret to find this out and freak out tomorrow.” Elsa says with more enthusiasm than needed at 1am in the morning. “Well, little brother, you have finally achieved the best thing that's ever going to happen to you in your life.” Liam says with a grin on his face. He scoffs, “it's younger brother,” he smiles at Emma, “and I suppose you're right” She smiles back at him. “Now if you're all done with your comments and giddiness of this situation, Ms. Swan and I have somewhere to be" “We do?” “Why, of course. My place. I've waited a long time for this and you're insane if you think I'm letting this night end. I want this with you, Emma. ” She smiles, hand landing on his chest, “I want this too. Take me home, Killian.” He winks at their friends, “by all means, love."

[seriouslyhooked]

Wedded Bliss and Asterisks (A Modern CS AU) Part 22/23

Emma Swan is an enemy of love who just happens to be an up and coming wedding dress designer. She’s convinced that a fairytale kind of romance is nowhere in her future but when she meets Killian Jones, whose magazine is covering the opening of her new boutique, things change. Suddenly Emma finds herself drawing up new plans for her life, ones that seem to all be leading towards her own form of wedded bliss. Rated M.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six,Part Seven.Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen,Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty, Part Twenty One. Also onFF Here.

A/N: Hello all! I know it has been almost a month since I updated this story (honestly where the hell did time slip off to?) but at last we are here with a new chapter. It’s so crazy to me that we are at the epilogue of this story and I cannot believe that that’s even possible, but alas, there it is. This chapter flashes nearly a year ahead and gives a glimpse into the happily ever after I always try to craft for Emma and Killian. As such it’s all cuteness all the time and it packs quite a punch of fluff and sweetness. Hope you all enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

About 10 months later…

“So I’m thinking we go with the French lace on the sleeves and the braided bodice woven like I showed you yesterday. The only question is volume. How much height did the bride say she wanted?”

Emma posed the question to Tiana as she examined the pieces of the specialty garment that were coming together in the earliest stages of this dress’ creation. It was scraps really at this point, just the bare bones of an idea not yet actualized, but Emma could see it so clearly in her mind, and once she got all of the particulars right, she knew it would be a magical gown. It was just a matter of finding the sweet spot between what a bride wanted and what Emma’s imagination was willing to envision to make a dress all that it could be.

“She was more flow oriented when we spoke,” Tiana affirmed. “But you don’t really need to be focusing on that today, Emma. I know you’re in a rush. You were just supposed to be dropping off those sketches and then getting out of here…”

“But I got sucked up into the crazy, I know, I know,” Emma stated easily. “Trust me I’m aware that if I am not ready to go in ten – crap, I mean five – minutes I will have one very disgruntled husband on my hands.”

And Emma wasn’t lying. Killian wasn’t often demanding, but today he’d been sincere in his request that Emma be quick with wrapping up things at work. They were pressed for time this morning and it was all in the service of what Emma was sure would be a truly delightful weekend away, but old habits were hard to break and try as she might Emma really didn’t like to let go of all control on any of her projects. She wanted to be right on the front lines from start to finish with every dress, but that just wasn’t possible given all the success that Bliss Boutique had found this past year and how much demand there was on their time and the time of Tiana and the rest of their designers.

“That’s all right, Ems,” Elsa’s voice said from the doorway as she held in her hand a blue box with their bakery logo on it. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to him.”

“You are a freaking god send, Elsa. Seriously you might just be my savior today,” Emma professed as she snuck a peek inside the box, finding an exact assortment of Killian’s favorite treats for the train ride they were taking this afternoon. These should do very nicely for winning back her man’s favor, at least until Emma could get him alone and give him a proper apology. Just the thought of that had a shiver of anticipation racing through her and Emma smiled, imagining of all the ways she could make Killian forgive her for her workaholic ways.

“That’s what sisters do, right?” Elsa teased, pulling a laugh from Emma at the mention of their newfound status.

Since Elsa and Liam had married a few months before they’d all gotten used to the idea of Elsa and Emma being actually related, and Emma couldn’t think of a better friend to call a sister, especially when Elsa was always saving her ass like this and made Killian’s older brother so incredibly happy. It was amazing to see how well Elsa and Liam had blended their lives together, and though they were incredibly different they were perfectly suited somehow. Elsa managed to dull away many of the sharp edges that most people associated with Liam, and Liam had brought out a new side of Elsa that Emma had never seen, one that was totally confident in herself and blissfully happy with her life in the way her kindhearted and loyal friend truly deserved.

“Absolutely. I just wish I had more talents other than making dresses. Your skillset seems to come in handy a lot more often,” Emma joked before the phone she had in her pocket began to vibrate. Someone was calling her and it was Emma’s initial instinct to ignore it since the only person who could need her now who wasn’t at Bliss was Killian and he’d never call when he could come sweep her off her feet in person. But when Emma saw the number of her doctor’s office flash on the screen she was concerned. Was something wrong? She accepted the call to find out, her hand trembling slightly as she did.

“Hello?” Emma answered, a little anxious about what kind of news she’d be hearing. She’d only gone in for a check up last week and there hadn’t been anything she was waiting to hear back on.

“Emma Jones?” the nurse asked through the receiver and Emma replied that it was in fact her. “I’m calling because the last of your tests results came in from your most recent appointment, and it turns out that you’re pregnant. From the blood test we ran it appears you’re already a few months along. Probably right around eleven weeks or so.”

The fact that Emma didn’t drop her phone onto the ground was a miracle because she was totally shocked. Her jaw practically hit the floor and her mind was racing in a million directions. But through all of that there was one feeling in the center of her chest that outshone all of the others and it was hope. Hope that this was really happening and that after months of wondering when the day would finally come, she and Killian were expecting the child they both so badly wanted.

“Wait, I’m sorry, could you say that again?” Emma said into the phone biting back a smile and feeling like the whole world had just gotten even brighter and more beautiful in the blink of an eye.

“You’re pregnant, Emma. Congratulations.”

It was all Emma could do to pretend to listen to the woman as she give her some more information about setting up an appointment with another doctor and follow up care in the coming weeks. Truth be told all of it went in one ear and out the other and Emma felt like her heart was going to explode as she turned back around to face her friends. She was expecting to find just Tiana and Elsa, but when she looked around she saw that Ruby and Mary Margaret were there as well and waiting on her news.

As soon as Emma hung up she wanted to tell them everything and share in this happy occasion with the friends she loved so dearly but she also knew it wouldn’t be right to tell them before Killian knew. He had to be the first person she told no matter what because he was going to be her partner in this, and that realization that they’d be taking this on as a team and that their new dream really had come to fruition brought tears to Emma’s eyes. She was practically shaking from the feelings of love and happiness coursing through her, but she had to try and play it cool or risk the words tumbling past her lips too soon.

“What’s wrong Emma? What happened?” Mary Margaret asked worriedly and Emma’s gut clenched. There was nothing wrong, only something magical knocking at her door, but she couldn’t say it and she struggled to sound convincingly unaffected.

“I’m fine, I promise. It’s just… complicated,” Emma said hoping that would be enough to pacify her friends. But she must not have realized her instinctive motion to put her hand above her tummy where her and Killian’s baby would soon be growing. All it took was one look at that gesture and the happy tears in her eyes and all four of them were guessing at once.

“Oh my god, you’re pregnant!”

“Shhh!” Emma said, shushing them and looking out the doorway to make sure that Killian wasn’t there to overhear. “And even if that were true I can’t say… because if I were pregnant there’s kind of someone else who would need to know first.”

Emma’s comments were met with understanding but that didn’t stop the almost bursting sense of excitement from all of her friends. It was clear as day that this miracle wasn’t just destined to make Emma and Killian happy but their whole family of friends as well. There were tears and some barely restrained jumping and all of her friends stood there fidgeting and trying to contain their good moods when fate came barreling in and compounding the situation all the more.

“Ms. Swan?” one of the new assistants greeted while ducking into the room with a noticeably worried look on her face.

“Technically it’s Mrs. Jones, Ariel, but don’t worry, you’ll get there,” Tiana said evenly despite her still radiating excitement for Emma.

“Oh right,” the redheaded girl said. “Well your husband is here to pick you up and he said something about not waiting another minute to get to your vacation.”

“Oh my God this is going to be the best vacation ever!” Elsa said gleefully. “Between Emma’s good news and Killian’s-,”

Whatever Elsa was about to say was interrupted by a swift slap on her arm from Ruby and a look that could kill. It told Emma that something was definitely up and that there was a very good chance her husband had something up his sleeve for this long weekend of theirs, but before she could ask questions Mary Margaret and the others were shooing Emma to the main room of the shop and then Emma was face to face with Killian and her suspicions went out the window.

Standing there in the middle of the business she’d built with the sunlight streaming in behind him, Killian was a sight to behold, and he was no less handsome today than he had been more than a year ago on that train where they first met. But it still amazed Emma that this was her real life. She’d long ago given up on pinching herself and she trusted that she was in fact this lucky, but sometimes the amount of happiness she felt surprised her. It was still so sure and constant after all of this time and the honeymoon phase that everyone said would fade was still here and it appeared it was here to stay.

“Swan,” Killian said when their eyes met and she’d crossed the room to him and Emma couldn’t resist stealing a kiss from him right there in front of everyone, audience be damned. She didn’t need an excuse to kiss her husband, after all, but right now she had the best one ever and Emma was just so thrilled at everything happening she couldn’t resist celebrating somehow and with the most important person in her world.

“I love you,” Emma whispered when they broke apart, and when she did the look on Killian’s face that made it seem like this moment with her was the best moment he’d ever known and she was the most important person in the universe prompted her to tell him right here and right now despite the slightly strange delivery of this life-changing news. “I have something I have to tell you.”

“You can tell me anything, Emma. You know that.”

As he made the promise Killian’s hand came up to cup her cheek and his eyes traced her features with all the love in the world. Emma could just imagine that love made into something new, a paternal kind of devotion that Killian would share with their kids as they all grew up into their own people with their own dreams and ambitions and wants to change the world. Emma knew that Killian would attach the same intensity of purpose to being a father that he had to being her soul mate and because of that he’d be the best Dad and the best partner she could ever have in this.

“I’m pregnant,” she confessed finally, waiting with bated breath for his response.

Emma wished she could have crafted a prettier way to express this amazing news, but she needed Killian to know about this blessing now and not at some later point where she found words to rival the ones he was always gifting her with. But in the end Killian’s reaction, even if Emma hadn’t been overly flowery in her language, was everything she’d been wanting and more. At first there was the briefest blip of shock that crossed his handsome face, but it shifted so quickly into this incredible sense of hope and wanting that Emma couldn’t think of anything that she’d ever seen that was more beautiful than this moment.

“You mean it, love? You’re really – I mean we’re really…?”

He couldn’t even finish the words but Emma nodded, the happy tears finally slipping down her cheeks as she told him he was going to be a Dad. And whatever she’d thought would happen when she told her husband about their upcoming adventure, Killian exceeded that by pulling her into his arms and spinning her around until she was laughing and holding onto him for dear life. It was a truly fantastic moment where both of them were caught up in the emotion of it all, but it soon hit a bit of a bumbling halt when Killian realized this might not be the safest of activities.

“Bloody hell, love, the baby! I shouldn’t have done that, Swan. I’m sorry I -,”

There was no need to let Killian delve into worries about his instincts, and truth be told Emma didn’t want for him to have a thing like regret anywhere near his mind. Not on this perfect, amazing day. So instead she pulled him down by the collar of his jacket and kissed him again in front of everyone and with no attempt at all at keeping it tame or appropriate for public consumption. All Emma could think was that she loved this man and wanted to feel that love and all the blessings that they’d found together as well as all of those still to come.

Eventually though, interruption did arrive in the form of Emma’s friends all needing to get their congratulations in and Emma officially ‘telling’ them about the baby. There was a chorus of glee and a happy applause that broke out through all of Bliss Boutique, but as far as real celebrations went, they would have to wait, because Emma and Killian had a date to keep and a train to catch for a trip back down memory lane.

“It couldn’t be more perfect timing,” Emma said as they arrived at the station and boarded the train that would lead them back to Misthaven.

“Aye love,” Killian replied as he brought her hand up to his lips to kiss gently. “A year ago today you made me the happiest of men by agreeing to marry me. You changed my life forever, and now you’ve done it again.”

“You changed mine too,” Emma whispered as she took her seat and curled into Killian where he sat beside her. “And now it’s all happening, just like we wanted.”

“Indeed it is love,” Killian said as he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “Indeed it is.”

………………..

At the start of today’s journey, Killian truly believed he would have the upper hand when it came to surprises. This trip to Misthaven had an intended purpose beyond a mere weekend of relaxation and restoration, one that Emma wasn’t yet aware of, but Killian never imagined that when he walked into her shop today she’d give him a gift he’d been almost scared to really hope for.

A baby. Killian and Emma were going to have a baby and it was amazing to him in every way. Their love had created something bigger than themselves and within the year their family would grow to include a whole new being that was part Emma and part him. It was crazy to think of such a wonderful twist of fate being real, but also it was the best gift anyone had ever given him save for perhaps Emma vowing to be his wife for all the days of their lives when they got married.

It honestly felt like they hadn’t a right to be this happy. Things in their world were so good and had remained that way almost since the start. There were hiccups of course, with the occasional crisis at work or short-term obstacles that every couple faced, but the bond between Emma and Killian wasn’t rattled or shaken. It had only grown stronger with each day, and in the face of this new adventure Killian was certain that it would grow even more. There was no one on earth Killian would rather raise a family with than Emma, no one he could even conceive sharing such a roll with, and he was getting his wish to have this chance with the best woman alive, a woman who had changed him for the better and continued to bring light and love into his world time and time again.

“We’re going to have make so many decisions,” Emma murmured from her spot curled up beside him on the train.

They’d been here wrapped up in each other for about an hour and they were nearly at the Misthaven station now. In that time they’d talked of so many things but none more important than their incredible joy at the prospect of this next chapter. Yet Emma, being the planner that she was, was no doubt thinking of concrete changes that would have to come before the arrival of their little boy or girl and formulating a list of things that had to be completed before the day their son or daughter was born.

“Like what, Swan?” Killian asked as his thumb ran across her hand lightly tracing over the tops of her fingers to where the two rings he’d given her always remained. He loved the idea of hashing out particulars because it would only make this feel more real and he welcomed Emma’s sharing her thoughts and wishes with him now more than anything.

“Well for starters we should probably start thinking about doctors and parenting classes and where to put a nursery…”

“All things we can handle in due time, love. But that’s not what’s foremost on your mind right now, is it?” Killian implored, wanting to know what Emma had been thinking before trailing off, because there was clearly more playing out in that brilliant mind of hers and he would always want to know her hopes in any situation.

“Well we’ll have to think about staying in the city. I thought we’d have a little more time to figure it all out but ever since the doctor told me the news I can’t get this image of us and our family and wide open spaces out of my mind.”

This confession was music to Killian’s ears even if Emma didn’t realize that it would be. She was sitting here thinking that somehow this bit of news would be an inconvenience or a massive hurdle for them to overcome, but it actually wrapped up perfectly into Killian’s plans for today. The gift he had for her might not seem as crazy as it did before with this bit of truth between them, and it would hopefully fit seamlessly into Emma’s plan and hopes for more.

“I’ve a feeling we’re on the right track, love. You just have to trust me.”

Emma grinned at Killian’s insistence and promised that she did trust him before the automated voice in the train car sounded telling them they’d arrived at their destination. Once there, however, Killian surprised Emma by insisting that they drop their bags off at the house where they’d be staying (which was the same little cottage they’d rented out a year ago) before pressing on to the real surprise. This proved rather shocking to Emma who imagined they’d get immediately to the part where they locked themselves away from the world and reveled in all the happiness today had already brought them, but as usual she accepted his leading her in a new direction and she trusted it would bring a magical moment her way if she handed over the reins to him.

“You know whatever it is your taking me isn’t going anywhere, right? This town doesn’t change, that’s why it’s so charming.” Emma joked before running her hand up his chest in an soothing gesture as they walked down the quiet streets of this cozy little hamlet.

“I know, love, but when we get there you’ll realize why I’ve no wish to wait,” Killian explained, smiling as he thought of the moment when Emma would finally understand all that he’d done for her and for their future.

“Even if it means getting me all alone to celebrate the good news?” Emma asked with every intention of seducing him to her will and distracting him from the prize that was nearly before them.

“Even then. But you have my word, Swan, I will be getting that privacy with you shortly, and when I do we’ll celebrate in a way we’ll never forget.”

This seemed to appease Emma for the time being and they picked up the pace in the direction of their destination, but even when they arrived at the front gate of the spot where their worlds had changed forever, Emma seemed to miss that this was it. The surprise was the house before them, or rather the big sign in front that bore the word ‘SOLD�� in giant white lettering, but Emma didn’t seem to understand that all of this was more than mere coincidence.

“They sold the house,” Emma whispered deflatedly as if sad for the fact that Marie and Charles would no longer be here in this magical place where Emma and Killian had promised to tie their lives forever together. “I wonder who will live here now.”

“We will, love,” Killian replied and at first Emma didn’t seem to process what he said, standing still and calm for a moment until realization dawned on her and her jaw dropped as she swung back around to look at him.

“Wait you bought a house? You bought this house?!”

“Aye, I did. I know I should have asked you and I know the summer season’s crazy right now. Your schedule’s a wreck and mine is too but we could move in the fall when things cool off again.”

With Emma tearing her attention between gaping at him and gaping at the house, Killian pulled her hands into his, bringing them up to kiss gently one by one. He expected a response from her immediately, but in her lingering shock and quiet he filled the air between them with his fantasy for what a life lived here could mean for them, hoping to illustrate for Emma all that he imagined and all he wanted to give her.

“This house is perfect, my love, and I can picture no place better to grow old and raise a family than right here. You want wide-open spaces? This house has all that and more. It’s a perfect oasis in the safety of a small town where the sky is the limit and anything can happen. We were meant to be here, Emma, and I know you felt it too when we were here last. The commute’s not great but not terrible; an hour by train both ways, but we can ride in every day together. Honestly I can think of many a worse fate to face, especially when you think of all we could make here for us and our family.”

Emma continued to stare at him with a hundred emotions flitting across her features but for some reason Killian couldn’t get a clear read on what his lovely wife was thinking. Was she angry with him about making such a large decision as this? Or was she as happy as he was? He didn’t know for certain until she rushed him and pulled him down for another kiss that rivaled the one they’d had back at Emma’s shop. Only this time there was nothing like the interruption of before, and the kiss ran longer and hotter until they were both breaking apart with their breathing ragged and their faces flushed.

“You bought us a house,” Emma whispered with a smile on her lips. “No, correction, you bought us our dream house.”

“So you like it then?” Killian teased, knowing now that he’d done just as good as he expected when he put this plan in motion months back.

“I don’t even have words right now, other than I love you. And the rest of it we’ll figure out, but this… this is perfect, Killian.”

Killian had to agree with that sentiment, and by his estimations this day might just rival their wedding day as the best one he’d ever had. But it only got better to as he took Emma’s hand and led her inside, showing her the interior of this great house that they’d visited before, which was just as charming and magnificent indoors as it was outside.

Right now the home they could officially call theirs was bare inside with no furnishings at all because Marie and Charles had already moved to be near their grandchildren earlier this month. This left what felt like a gargantuan amount of space that Killian had wanted to fill, but he was determined to give Emma the chance to do this home up as she saw fit. He would always trust her tastes more than his own, and he could just imagine the nights they’d fill dreaming up exactly how things would be if they could have everything they wanted. Emma would fill the hours with measurements and design particulars, and he’d spend his time loving her and probably distracting her more than he should. But either way it was going to be fantastic, of that he was sure.

“It’s even better than I imagined,” Emma said when they’d gone through every room and even begun picking out which one would be for them and which would be a nursery or the rooms their kids would someday claim. “But what about the gardens? I mean there’s no way, right? We can’t handle all of that. We’d never have time for anything else.”

“Much as it pains me to admit, Swan, you’re right, that’s not an option, but we found a way around it. The acreage with Charles testament of love for Marie has been donated to the town to become a public park. And there was an endowment from a private benefactor to keep it well funded and perfectly attended to for years and years to come.”

Killian could see that Emma couldn’t even begin to calculate how much money that would take. She was a smart woman, the smartest he’d ever met, so she was likely running through every question about where they would have gotten the hundreds of thousands of dollars at the very least that were needed for such an endeavor. He supposed he could let her continue to surmise about what could have happened, but Killian didn’t want to wait to grant Emma every answer, not when at the end of this reveal they could truly enjoy everything they now called theirs.

“I can see those gears of yours shifting, love, and the answer to your internal musing is one I’m guessing will surprise you. The source of the gift is your favorite neighbor.”

“Mrs. Hubbard?!” Emma asked, totally shocked, and Killian could understand the feeling. It had amazed him at first too, but then again nothing could truly astound him given all the ways his life had changed in the past year since meeting his Swan.

Yet for Emma, this revelation was of a much larger and impactful kind, and Killian felt it was best to leave any explanations to Mrs. Hubbard herself. So without further ado he pulled out the letter that Emma’s old neighbor had provided him with this morning before he’d left the city, and he enjoyed how Emma made no motion to hide it from him, extending it in a way so that he knew she wanted him to read it along with her without any sort of secrecy.

Dear Emma,

Surprise! It turns out the old lady across the hall who you’ve humored for all these years had a secret and now it’s time for it to come to light. I am – rather unfortunately in my opinion – filthy, stinkin rich. Truth be told the money that made this acquisition possible comes from my late husband’s family and we neither of us ever really knew what to do with it while he was alive. So we did the only thing we could think: we basically pretended that it wasn’t there and lived out life in relative normalcy. It was the best decision we ever made, and I attribute so much of our happiness to it.

But sometimes there are moments like these where money can make the world a better place, and when Killian told me about his wish to buy you this home and the story you two already have here, I knew I’d found an outlet that would both make me happy and do my dear departed Fitz proud. You know how much we enjoyed spending time in the Botanical Gardens and how I still go whenever I can to honor his memory. Escaping to that place was one of the only things that kept us sane enough to live in this crazy city for as long as we did and so it feels only right that we preserve another sanctuary for more people to enjoy all while I grant you and your great love the chance to grow as it deserves.

There’s all kinds of legal jargon that comes with things like this that I don’t want to bother you with – that’s what lawyers are for after all – but there was one last thing I wanted you and Killian to have: the grove of roses out behind the house in the spot where Killian meant to propose to you is yours. I’ve taken care of everything, and the same groundkeepers for the new park will keep it all in order so you don’t have to worry about a thing. Consider it a late wedding present and a wish bestowed from me to you that you have everything I had with my Fitz and more.

I know you’re probably thinking to yourself that this is too much, it’s too grand a gift, or some other nonsense, but you’re wrong, Emma. You and Killian deserve to be happy, and this will be your way, I know it will. Fill this house with children, make this house a home in a way you never had, and build the life you always wanted, my dear. Convince those friends of yours who you love to do the same so that you may never lose each other, and most of all, don’t ever let a day go by where you don’t hold the people you love close and tell them just how deeply you care. Because after all my many years upon this earth I’ve known only one thing to be really true: love is always the answer and it will get you through anything, no matter what.

All the best from your dear friend and favorite neighbor,

Lizzie Hubbard

It was completely understandable to Killian when he heard sniffling come from his wife and he watched as Emma wiped away fresh tears that had spilled onto her cheeks. This note was truly touching in its heartfelt sincerity and even he felt choked up upon reading it. Killian hadn’t known the full depths of what Mrs. Hubbard would write though he had suspected, but the woman who had always proven to be full of wisdom and sound advice came through once more with flying colors. Her ideas on how Emma and Killian should lead their lives together was exactly he wanted, right down to convincing their friends to make the move as well (which was already in the works on every front) and he knew from Emma’s reaction it was what she desired too. He just had to cut through the intensity of feeling a bit to get to the heart of that.

“All in favor of making her an honorary grandmother?” Killian said half joking but mostly serious as Emma choked back another sob and nodded, agreeing with that totally.

“Tell me this is really happening,” Emma whispered as she wiped away the rest of her tears and looked up at him again, appearing just as beautiful now as she did in every moment, tears or not.

“It is, Emma. I promise you it is,” Killian replied, meaning it from the bottom of his heart.

And with that promise and with the knowledge that life was winding down a path towards something beautiful and miraculous and so totally worth fighting for, Emma and Killian shared another kiss, cementing this moment for all eternity as one of the happiest ones they’d ever known. In the span of that kiss the world faded away, time seemed to trickle to a stand still, and all that remained was the two of them caught up together in the same happy space of love and light and every good thing.

But the best part of it all was that when they finally did break apart, and reality descended once more, none of the picture perfect feelings or the hope and joy of all of this dissipated. Instead it grew day-by-day, month-by-month, and year-by-year, until every dream they’d had for their lives and their love was made real, and they found that they had truly achieved a magical, memorable, once in a lifetime kind of wedded bliss.

Post-Note: I cannot begin to put into words what getting to the epilogue of this story means to me. It’s been such a pleasure to write it and really such a fun creative outlet for me over the first half of this year. Writing is always about trying to enjoy myself and get out of my own head for a bit, and this story was such an awesome way for me to do that. The fact that so many of you joined me on this journey and enjoyed the story along the way only makes it that much harder to say goodbye, but alas it is time…at least for now. As I’ve said before with other stories, I reserve the right to add more to the happily ever after (and since this chapter didn’t include the baby directly there’s a good chance that will happen someday featuring a bigger CS family and all their friends living in Misthaven with them), but I don’t have any set plans on when to write it. Anyway thank you all so much for all your kind words and support and I hope you all have a lovely rest of your day!

[isfjmel-phleg]

While most members of Young Justice are very consistent with their uniforms, there are a few of them (the ones who struggle the most with self-image) who change up their look, and none more than Cassie. Cassie's costumes are A Journey, and you can pretty much clock her character development by them, because that's what they reflect.

Her original costume isn't technically her first one--she goes through a few variants of it when she starts off her heroic career--but it's how she's dressed when introduced in Young Justice 1998, and she will continue to wear it for the first twenty issues, nearly half the series.

This costume is cobbled together from items in her closet: a t-shirt with a Wonder Woman symbol that she has modified, practical bike shorts, a leather jacket probably inspired by Kon's look, and glasses and a wig intended to conceal her identity. Underneath the wig she has short blonde hair. Pixie cuts like hers were a lot more common in the 1990s for girls and women than they are now, but Cassie is starting to grow her hair out a little now that she has begun her Amazon training, and it will evolve along with her.

(Young Justice 1998 #4)

Cassie's costume reflects her situation. She's just some girl who took heroism upon herself, working with whatever meager resources were available to her. She's not a professional at this, and she's not very sure of herself. She actually owns a real costume, though! Donna Troy, the original Wonder Girl, gives Cassie an old costume of hers, as a symbol of passing on the mantle. Cassie is excited and honored by this gesture, but she's so afraid that she'll ruin Donna's uniform if she wears it on the job that she keeps it safe in her closet at home.

She's got superpowers, she's got the blessing of her mentor and predecessor, and she's succeeding in her training. But she still feels like an imposter, and that attitude comes through in how she presents herself--as something makeshift and low-effort. The wig is supposed to protect her identity, but it just as much lets her hide a self that she isn't confident in, trying to look more like Diana and Donna.

Her next attempt to change up her costume is an effort to get Kon, on whom she has a crush, to notice her. With the help of Cissie--who used to wear a frilly, revealing costume when her mother was pushing her to be Arrowette, and thus knows how to achieve that sort of image--she opts for a crop top variation of her t-shirt and a miniskirt with thigh-high socks, a new hairstyle for her wig, heavy makeup, and a nameplate necklace reading "GIRL."

(Wonder Woman 1987 #153)

It's possibly her worst look. Not only is it utterly impractical to fight in (something this very written-by-a-man issue never acknowledges), but it's not her. It doesn't reflect her heroic identity; its purpose is to just to impress her crush--by presenting herself as something she's not. So she has the sense to drop this one after only one issue.

During the Sins of Youth event, when Cassie is aged up into an adult, her costume doesn't magically adapt with her as those of her teammates do. She switches costumes with an aged-down Diana briefly but ultimately decides that now is the time for her to wear Donna's uniform. And she loses the wig.

(Sins of Youth: Wonder Girls #1)

Her donning this uniform comes alongside the confidence that she gains as she takes on adult-level heroics. She discovers her gift for leadership and a new seriousness about her heroic career. For her, being Wonder Girl isn't just a fun side gig; it's something she now knows she wants to dedicate the rest of her life to. She now has nothing about herself to hide and fully accepts her ability to take on the legacy that she is a part of.

This personal growth will linger after everyone's ages are righted again, and Cassie will mark this step forward by abandoning her original costume permanently. But she doesn't replace it with Donna's uniform. While the uniform is important to what she's working for, she's not just trying to be the next Donna; she has to define the mantle of Wonder Girl for herself.

Cassie's new costume, which she wears from #20-34, incorporates some elements of previous looks. She keeps the jacket (still not over Kon!) and the shirt and necklace from the miniskirt costume (which she describes in the panel below as her "'what was I thinking?' phase"). Instead of the miniskirt, she wears jeans, a more practical and youthful choice, with a pattern of stars that ties her to the Wonder legacy. She keeps the bracelets from Donna's uniform, as well as the identity-concealing goggles. But she is showing her own hair, which is now long enough to wear in ponytails.

(Young Justice 1998 #20)

And like all of Cassie's costumes, this one suffers from an unfortunate case of Turn-of-the-Millennium Fashion, but in context it's a step forward for her in becoming more comfortable with and confident in herself. It looks less like random items from her closet and more like a deliberately put-together outfit for someone who is serious about her heroic identity, and it's more in keeping with her age and personal style.

The next time she changes up her look is at the start of the Our World at War event, right after a trip to Hollywood with Cissie. The narrative doesn't call attention to this change as it has with previous costumes, so it isn't spelled out why she makes this choice. Maybe the recent trip brought the issue of her image to mind; maybe it's the narrative's way of marking the changes that the upcoming arc will have on the team.

It's not a drastic change; her jeans are red, her shirt now has a painted-on "G" like her original one did, and she is phasing out the jacket.

(Young Justice 1998 #35-36)

The red jeans more overtly echo Donna's uniform, while her less consistently wearing the jacket suggests her moving past the need to reflect Kon and seek his approval. Her hair is a bit longer too. She's gradually honing her look, figuring out what works best for the heroic identity that she is carving for herself. This look will stick around from #25-48.

Her development will culminate in the costume she adopts by the end of the series, from #49-55, after she is elected team leader. She keeps the red jeans, bracelets, and googles, but she loses the nameplate necklace ("GIRL" is no longer an adequate label for a teenager approaching adulthood), scoop-necked shirt, and tennis shoes, replacing them with a high-necked zippered shirt and heeled shoes. Her hair is loose and noticeably longer.

(Young Justice 1998 #49)

This outfit reflects changing styles in the real world, but with its more minimal and polished look, it showcases Cassie as fully confident in her identity as a hero. Her long hair is a transition to 2000s trends but also a representation of her identification with her fellow Amazons (who tend to wear their hair long) and of how far she has come in her development as a hero since her training began. This is a far cry from the girl who tried to hide behind a ratty wig and was too afraid to wear Donna's uniform.

[seriouslyhooked]

Black (The CS Mixtape) Part 159/?

Series of CS oneshots inspired by music. Collection on FF Here.

A/N: This chapter brings to life a reader requested oneshot for the song ‘Black’ by Dierks Bently. It’s an AU where Emma and Killian have been dating for a while but Killian is terrified of making the move for further intimacy for fear of losing Emma (who doesn’t usually get attached to people), but by their fifth date Emma is done waiting and things escalate from there. Includes some confessions about how important they are to each other and rated M for all the smuff.

Getting back to the front steps of Emma’s place after a fifth consecutive date that blew every other one Killian Jones had ever known right out of the water, the anticipation was close to killing him.

Truly there was something in the air between him and Emma that crackled and sparked in a way he’d never been accustomed to with anyone else, but that magic was something he didn’t want to rush or take for granted. He was trying his best to take this thing between them slowly and not assume that Emma felt the same raw and seemingly endless need that he did, but that was bloody difficult to do when she looked at him the way she did in this moment, smiling and open and ever lovely in that sinful black number she’d donned for their dinner this evening.

“So I had a really good time tonight…” Emma murmured, her words trailing off in a tantalizing way and her green eyes flicking up to his, brightened by the lamp outside and the full moon out tonight.

“As did I, love,” Killian replied immediately, hoping beyond hope that she didn’t catch onto how quick his reply was. He could feel that not so subtle hint of desperation rumbling through him, but for the time being he was trying to keep that contained from this siren who had entranced him since their first meeting a few months ago.

That was easier said than done, however, when Emma took a step closer to him out there on the porch, her hand coming up to lay above his heart and her body coming close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off her skin. The scent of lavender and vanilla that he’d come to identify as uniquely hers permeated through the space between them, and those luscious red lips of hers glistened in the moment where she wet them absentmindedly. God above was she temptation made flesh, and if he could possibly deny this craving low in his gut he deserved a damn parade.

“It was so good in fact I was thinking maybe it shouldn’t end here,” Emma whispered, her innuendo tightening the coil already forming low in his gut and commanding his body to full attention. She was now making it very obvious what she wanted, and since Emma Swan was anything but a tease, Killian knew that when she asked him to come in it would be for more than a spot of rum or an after dinner coffee. No, Emma was making the move for the next step between them since he had not, and Killian’s jaw ticked with the pressure building up inside him that wanted to say yes but felt compelled to beg for patience.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, love,” Killian replied and though he hadn’t anticipated it there was a flash of confusion and then something that looked too much like hurt in Emma’s eyes for him to ever be easy with. Immediately he tried to correct himself. “Not because I don’t want to, Swan, because God knows I want nothing more than to go inside with you.”

“So why don’t you?” Emma asked, her mostly imperceptible spike of fear seemingly behind her now allowing Killian to breathe a little easier even if this was still the most difficult of tasks.

It also didn’t help much that Emma’s hands were still on him and she was still so close, close enough to pull in for another of those damned enticing kisses he was hoping to steal all night. Since the first one she’d bestowed on him their first date Killian was nothing less than an addict, so how he refrained from just pulling her to him he didn’t know. Emma was the definition of distraction, and yet underneath that electric current she sent coursing through him with her nearness there was something else too, something comforting and emboldening that Killian chose to cling to as he fessed up to the truth.

“It’s just – bloody hell how do I say this? Look, Emma, I don’t want to muck this all up by rushing in. This thing we’ve got going here, it feels too important to undermine by hurrying towards next steps. You’re too important for me to lose and I’d hate for this to be over before it even began.”

Too late Killian realized what he’d just said and how much he’d given away. When he and Emma met months back, he’d been made aware both by her and by her reputation in town that Emma Swan didn’t do commitment. She was a one and done kind of person preferring to avoid romantic attachments at all costs so that she wouldn’t get hurt. So when Killian had not only taken her on one but five fantastic dates he felt more than blessed. Already he’d had all of this time to with a woman who outshone every other person he’d ever met, but he wasn’t ready for that to be over and if that made him greedy so be it. Where Emma was concerned he would always want more of her, and though he’d spent night after night dreaming of taking their flirtations further he’d held back for fear that when he finally tasted that bit of heaven she was offering she’d be gone and he’d be left devastated and still desperate for more.

“So you think that if we have sex you’re going to lose me?” Emma asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and something else, something warmer that reminded Killian of that beautiful laugh of hers. She found that idea funny for whatever reason, and that mixed with the fact that she hadn’t pulled away at his confession gave Killian a sincere sense of hope that he was terrified to let go of.

“Well maybe not in so many words, love, but -,”

Thankfully before he had to articulate that particular sentiment Emma closed the space between them, pulling him down by the collar of his jacket for a kiss that instantly washed away that lingering worry. In that kiss there was more than mere temptation and seduction too, there was a need there that Killian recognized and that he’d been trying to tamp down for too bloody long. Now that holding back was about to end though, because he could feel just how badly Emma wanted him, and whatever may come next it would be worth it to bring her any kind of happiness.

“I promise if you take me to bed right now it won’t be over, Killian. Honestly, I’m kind of hoping it will just be the start...”

“God I love the sound of that,” Killian agreed before surprising Emma by opening the door she’d already unlocked, whisking her inside, and pushing her back up against the closed door. “As long as you realize Emma that taking this step means I’m all in, we’re all in.”

“I do,” Emma whispered, but before their lips crashed down together to meet in that crackling fire of heat and built up tensions, Killian’s heart thumped loudly in his chest at her word choice. Never in his life had he even considered what those words from a woman would mean to him, but that was because he hadn’t found the right one, not until Emma, and now that he had her, Killian was intent on pleasing her in a way that showed her nothing and no one could compare to him and what he’d be willing to always give her if granted the chance.

The feel of Emma’s soft, luscious figure against Killian as she arched closer, kissing him back in a way he’d only dreamed of, was intoxicating and enough to have him near dizzy from the varying but all sublime sensations. He was caught up in this woman and not even remotely interested in breaking away in any form, so when his lips left hers they had to find their way to her somehow, moving down her jaw to her neck and teasing her into a frenzy Killian swore he could feel. Her shivers beneath him and the thready hums his Swan released as she caved to this feeling, submitting to his every touch and kiss and attention was the ultimate gift, but somehow even that wasn’t enough. He needed to see and worship and cherish all of her, and he had to do it now.

“Bedroom?” Killian asked, the word coming out gruffer than he’d ever anticipated, but as his eyes caught Emma’s he could tell she was just as far gone as he sounded. Her gaze was heated and intense and in giving way to this passion between them she’d let all of the walls slip low, walls that he’d been chipping at for weeks that Killian knew had been Emma’s safe guards forever. Now though, there was nothing between them except for these blasted clothes that Killian intended to shed as soon as bloody possible.

“Last door on the right,” Emma replied and no sooner had she said the words than they were in motion, partaking in an intricate and seductive dance that left half of their garments strewn almost in a trail to the bedroom, and by the time they were there, Killian was nearly overcome by the sight of Emma shed of that damned enticing black number she’d been wearing and now donning only the most delicate of lace in the boldest shade of crimson imaginable.

“You’re stunning, Swan,” Killian said, meaning it totally as he debated between taking her in in all her glory with her golden hair tumbling free along her shoulders and that knowing smirk of hers turning up her lips. But when she stepped back to him and her hand ran across his bare chest, thoughts of holding back fled. He was powerless to resist the pull to have her, but he’d fight tooth and nail to resist long enough to satisfy every last possible need Emma might have.

“So you keep telling me,” Emma whispered, her voice dipping low to a tone dripping with innuendo and desire all at once. It melted and washed across his skin, bringing that already prevalent thrum of need coursing throughout him to an even louder roar, but there was also a sweet sincerity to it and to the look in Emma’s eyes that stole his breath away. She might be a siren but she was still fragile behind her strength and worthy of every kind of protection after the past she’d led that Killian was beginning to understand more and more of with each passing moment they spent together.

“Tonight I’ll show you just how remarkable I find you, Emma. You have my word on that.”

With that promise offered, the two of them kissed again, and Killian stripped away the last of his clothes before making their way to the bed and falling atop of it with a coordination that only came with the realest chemistry. The two of them were so in sync and so understanding of the other, and for Killian this was everything. He could practically anticipate every sigh that passed Emma’s lips and every arch of her hips upwards trying to get the friction of his hard length that was still separated by the scrap of lace between her thighs. He’d purposely kept those sinful garments on her person, anticipating the moment he’d unwrap her to a degree that shocked even him.

Meandering the line between a slow, thoughtful teasing and rough need-driven attentions was a difficult proposition thanks to the dueling rationales that gripped at Killian. On the one hand he wanted hard and fast as a means of satisfying his hunger that had only grown and grown as weeks had gone on. He was too riled up and too desperate for her to think of anything but slipping into her warm heat and feeling that level of completion he knew he would find with this incredible woman, but even as he felt he might go mad from wanting her, Killian was addicted to the almost torturous sense of delight he could bring Emma by waiting and building up the already overwhelming anticipation even more.

He was gratified with her clear and unabashed approval of his ministrations as his hands roamed over and his kisses drew lower, and when he’d stripped her of the bra that had concealed her breasts and gave them the attention he’d fantasized about for weeks, his pride surged at her responses. The way she called his name as he wound her need tighter and tighter was music to his ears, but it wasn’t enough. What Killian needed was the sound of Emma falling into completion and giving way to an earth shattering climax before he could even think of taking this further.

This, luckily, was easily done, for though this was their first time, Killian felt this innate understanding of Emma’s body and her wishes. Perhaps it was the fact that he’d been an always vigilant observer of her before taking things to this level, but Killian was running on instincts and finding validation at every turn, like when his mouth took one of her aching buds and sucked deep at the same time that his fingers moved beneath the now soaked material of the lace between her legs.

“God, Killian, it’s – it’s too much. It’s too good,” Emma said, her thoughts coming out less coherently than they usually did. Emma was brilliant, and time had taught Killian that she was easily one of the smartest people he’d ever met, but right now she was mindless to his perusals and that pulled a growl from him and a need to push her further and to taste that desire she was giving way to right now.

As he continued to tease her sex with his fingers Killian moved down her body, dropping kisses and nips against her creamy skin all the way, inadvertently marking her with the scruff of his beard and the tiny bit of excess his bites bestowed. Come the morning there’d be signs of how he’d made love to her and that was as it should be as far as Killian was concerned. Each and every spot would be a map of sorts of where he could bring his Swan pleasure, and now that they had an understanding that this relationship was here to stay and grow and flourish, he had every intention of recreating this magic over and over again.

By the time he’d reached her sex, poised to bring her satisfaction of the purest kind, Killian’s control had snapped and no sooner had his tongue met flesh then Killian knew Emma was as gone as he was. All he knew was that he needed her to give way to bliss and that he had to be the one to give it to her. Killian wanted Emma to know just what perfection felt like because this to him was perfect. Emma in his arms and with this open sense of trust and need was his ideal and having her felt better than anything he’d ever known. She was every dream made real, but now he wanted her to garner that same sense of rightness and when she fell over the edge, crying out his name on a moan as her climax hit, Killian believed she might finally be getting on his page.

Kissing his way back up her body and murmuring words of praise against her flushed skin, Killian felt the way Emma fought to catch her breath again, coming down from that high he’d just bestowed upon her. He also felt the way her hands instinctively reached out to him, running across his skin, through his hair, and lighting up every spot they touched simply by seeking him out. By the time he was over her once again and their eyes were meeting once more Killian was practically vibrating with the raw energy of it all, and then he saw Emma beaming up at him and every thought other than that she was a miracle flew from his mind.

“You know why I was never planning to run from this?” Emma asked as her hand came to cup his cheek and her thumb ran across the corner of his mouth lightly. “Because at every turn you manage to look at me like I’m the best thing you’ve ever seen. Like somehow I’m the key to everything.”

Killian was startled a bit by how transparent he was, since that was exactly the way he felt about Emma, but since she wasn’t running from the intensity of that attraction and care he had for her, he might as well embrace the truth. He would always rather be honest with Emma, and with her superhuman ability to sniff out a lie it wouldn’t do much good to deny anyhow.

“And that doesn’t scare you?” Killian asked seriously, searching her gaze for some sort of faltering in her warmth and smile but finding none. Instead, however, she managed to surprise him by switching their positions so she was now straddling him from above and making quite the vision as she did.

“Oh it does,” Emma admitted as her hands ran across his chest and then lower and lower, her eyes trailing along his skin and making his muscles tighten even as he was worried about her answer. Then she looked up at him and smiled again before confessing something to ease that ache inside. “But the thought of leaving you or losing this… well that’s just so much worse.”

“You won’t lose me, Emma,” Killian vowed immediately and Emma’s grin only grew as she leaned down to press another kiss to his lips, this one soft and sincere and filled with the hope Killian himself could feel blooming in his chest at an almost more obvious rate than the lust that had been surging through him all night.

“I know I won’t,” Emma whispered when they broke apart, surprising him by trailing kisses lower and lower and moving down his body until she was poised to take his hard length in her mouth, pushing him over the edge of sanity and bringing to life so many fantasies at the same time. “And you won’t lose me either.”

That vow from Emma was enough to have Killian too close to falling over to his passion, but her mouth on him was a whole other kind of amazing torment and though he let himself linger in that mind boggling ecstasy for a while, he eventually pleaded with Emma that he wouldn’t last that way and mercifully Emma responded, coming back above him and allowing them both the chance to come together the way that they should on this first time neither of them would ever forget.

With her golden hair falling in a curtain around her, appearing just as soft as Killian knew it to be and her lips swollen from his kisses all night long, Emma was the realest, purest thing Killian ever seen and ever known, and though it went by too fast and yet still too painfully slow, the crescendo that built was magnificent and blinding, consuming them both with every thrust and motion between them. And when that moment of truth came when the two of them came crashing together, it was so strong and so powerful the world almost went black with the impact. Killian could feel his heart hammering, his whole body spent, and his mind swimming through a haze of pleasure, but more important than all of that was the feeling of Emma against his chest, tucked into him and holding him close just as he was holding her.

“And to think you thought this wouldn’t be a good idea,” Emma teased easily, reminding him of the earlier conversation on the front porch before they’d said what needed saying and gotten the truth of their feelings out there for good.

“I never in my wildest dreams would consider you and me together a bad idea, Emma,” Killian stated plainly as he felt her soft even breathing against the crook of his neck and the lingering heat of her body seeping through him at every point they were connected. “I only knew that if we had tonight and nothing else…”

“It wouldn’t be enough,” Emma murmured, filling in his thinking exactly.

“No it wouldn’t, love,” Killian confirmed as his fingertips trailed along her back, dancing up the curve of her spine and feeling her wriggle against him as he did. “I’m not sure that ‘enough’ really exists when it comes to you.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing we don’t have to worry about this being a one time thing,” Emma said, leaning up again to meet his eyes and kiss him rather chastely given how intimate they’d only just been. But to be honest it was just as tantalizing as this whole damn evening had been and made Killian feel just as much as every touch before it.

“Aye, love. It’s a good thing indeed.”

And with that the two of them spent the rest of the night reveling in this new found connection between them, before continuing on a path of love and hope that would make the both of them very happy forever after.

…………….

The moon outside Too bright, those blinds, yeah lets just keep them closed You know, my hands they know where to go, to find your finger tips Trace them back to your lips, take you on a trip, flip that switch

Make my world go black, hit me like a heart attack, knock me flat on my back, yeah Just keep doing that, that thing you're doing there, brush me with your hair, I swear I don't know how long that I can last Make my world go black, black Make my world go black, black

Like your dress on the floor, yeah the one you don't need anymore, Black like a sky with no stars, just find me and fall into my arms

And make my world go black, hit me like a heart attack, knock me flat on my back, yeah Just keep doing that, that thing you're doing there, brush me with your hair, I swear I don't know how long that I can last Make my world go black Make my world go black

I don't wanna see a thing, baby I just wanna feel your touch, feel your rush I don't wanna see a thing, I just wanna feel your love

Make my world go black, hit me like a heart attack, knock me flat on my back, yeah Just keep doing that, that thing you're doing there, brush me with your hair, I swear I don't know how long that I can last Make my world go black, black Make my world go black

Make my world go black I don't wanna see a thing I just wanna feel your touch, feel your rush Black Black

Post-Note: So this was a prompt I got months and months back (and I have to thank my reader for being so patient because really it was so long ago) but I have always liked this song and definitely wanted to write an AU to go with it as soon as I got the request. I also feel like it has been a while since I’ve done an AU like this and so why not bring the fluff and smut for a song of this caliber that so blatantly wants both? Anyway I hope that you guys enjoyed and thank you so much for reading!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103, Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158

[isfjmel-phleg]

While I'm on the subject of Cassie and fashion, I might as well talk about her civilian clothing (from her introduction through the end of YJ 1998 since that's the comics era I'm more familiar with), as I have with other characters.

Cassie's clothing reflects the changing styles of the decades when these comics appeared, as well as her own personal style, and what this actually is maybe isn't quite what a lot of the fandom would assume. She tends to dress in the casual, everyday clothing of a normal teenage girl of her era, and she seems to be partial to purple!

When we meet Cassie, she dresses very much like a kid of the mid-1990s. Baggy shirts (often with superhero logos because she's very much a fangirl!), shorts of various types (baggy, bike, jean cutoffs), lots of layers, sweatpants, leggings, jeans, tennis shoes worn with folded-down socks. When she's a little more dressed up, she wears a belted tunic over leggings--very similar to something that Donna Troy wears in the same issue--and what looks like a metallic gold jacket. There are a lot of pastel tones of purple, pink, blue, green, and yellow, with the occasional deep red or berry, but purple is the most prevalent! Her hair is in a pixie cut that starts to get a bit longer when she begins her Amazon training.

These aren't clothes that would be designed to appeal to the eyes of male readers, but they do look very much like what the average fourteen-year-old girl of this time might wear as casual or athletic attire. Cassie isn't interested in impressing anyone with her appearance (nor should she need to be!); she's a kid off on adventures.

Cassie joins Young Justice in the late 1990s. Her hair is getting longer, more like the hybrid pixie-bob cut that was popular at the time. Her clothing is a little more mature but still youthful: primarily casual t-shirts or tanks and jeans or shorts. In accordance with current fashions, the shirts are getting shorter, while jeans are high-waisted and straight-legged. She's wearing fewer superhero shirts now that she officially is a hero herself, but some of her shirt patterns echo the stars associated with the Wonder legacy. While her palette still includes pastels, she is also wearing more primary colors like bright blue, yellow, and red that suggest more confidence in her heroic identity.

As the series moves into the new millennium, Cassie's styles continue to shift with the times. She wears fewer t-shirts now. Raglan/baseball shirts in various colors are in, along with blouses of various sorts. Her jeans are often cargo pants or capris (or both!). She's showcasing her interests more with logos on shirts--looks like she's a fan of alternative rock group Barenaked Ladies, which was popular at the time (my dad had a lot of their CDs). Jackets are becoming a more regular part of her wardrobe, making her look a bit more grown-up and put-together. Her hair is growing out into a straight, shoulder-length style in keeping with 2000s tastes. Her palette mostly remains the same, alternating between primary colors and pastels, but especially purple and blue. However, by 2003, black starts to creep into her civilian wardrobe more predominantly, suggesting a darker and more serious tone as Cassie ages.

Her style is distinct from that of the other girls. Cissie is more fashion-conscious with more overt athletic influences; Anita wears a wider range of colors, as well as styles that are more "grown-up" or overtly "girly" (and I will probably do clothing analysis posts for both of them eventually). Cassie tends to prefer casual, practical, no-fuss clothing, although what that looks like varies with the times, and she seems to have definite favorite colors that have nothing to do with the colors of her costume. This establishes that she can maintain a balance between her personal and heroic identities (unlike, say, Kon, who often seems to be trying to stay in the Superman colors even when he's out of the suit).

Anyway, she's endearing and I love her and I want her purple/berry tunic.

[isfjmel-phleg]

I'm surprised that Young Justice 1998 didn't do more with the fact that Cassie goes into the Our Worlds at War event shortly after experiencing a personal tragedy.

In Wonder Woman 1987 #171, Cassie's school is attacked and several of her friends are killed. She is depicted as quite shaken up about this, but since she's a relatively minor character in this book, it's not developed much. The friends whom she loses are not named, and the story doesn't do much to set up the loss or examine how she's dealing with it.

She will refer to it in passing to Cissie when war becomes imminent, and Cissie will be sympathetic, but Cassie doesn't elaborate any further, and the issue is never brought up again. Has she processed it at all? Is she coping by trying not to think too much about it? That would be in character for her; she can be toxically positive, unwilling to acknowledge any hard truths (which we see in the conversation she will have with Cissie after the exchange below).

(Young Justice 1998 #35)

So she will go from the destruction of her school and the deaths of some unspecified friends to being in a warzone and witnessing the vicarious death of a friend of hers whom we do know, whose relationship with her we've actually seen.

Kon's struggle to deal with Bart's almost-death is explored, which makes sense--he blames himself because he was acting leader at the time, and he and Bart were particularly close friends. The circumstances are different for Cassie, but it's surprising that we don't get to see how precisely she is dealing with this. This might have been an opportunity to challenge her toxic positivity tendencies, for instance, or for her to more concretely grapple with her own mortality (which would be in keeping with the series' themes).

But it doesn't really come up.

[isfjmel-phleg]

YJ bedroom comparisons Part 2: the girls! (Part 1 is here.)

Cassie

As far as I know, she only has one room over the course of her pre-2003 appearances. There's no indication that she and her mom ever move. But the look and layout of her room begins as inconsistent across various artists, and even when a settled design emerges, it continues to change depending on the artist.

The earliest approach to Cassie's room, as drawn by her creator, shows a very small space with lavender walls. There is a bed with a teal and black checkered bedspread and built-in bookshelves, an armoire (in addition to the closet), a desk and chair, and a laundry basket.

The clutter is a mixture of her childhood possession and current interests. She has multiple teddy bears and a Superman plush, board games, books, and a record player and records. There's a glimpse of a computer keyboard on desk, and lots of posters and art and paper on the walls and doors, especially posters of heroes like Wonder Woman and the Flash. The floor is littered with scattered laundry and hangers. This is the bedroom of a typical girl with a normal childhood and a lot of admiration for superheroes, which is accurate.

(Wonder Woman 1987 #113)

Two other early views of her room are inconsistent with this and don't show much. One is painted blue-grey and the other orange. The first gives glimpses of posters and photos; the other shows shelves full of books and boxes (including one helpfully labeled "BOX"), a dresser, and a Little Nemo poster.

(Wonder Woman 1987 #139 and 147)

The next version is yet again completely different but will win out as the prototype of her room's "official" look. It has lavender walls (maybe Cassie was experimenting with painting her room and decided to go back to the earlier color?) and a slanted roof. The bed has pink sheets and a blue bedspread and shelves built into the headboard, and there is a round nightstand with shelves, a desk and chair, and a blue rug.

She's a little older now, and her possessions are starting to reflect more teenage interests alongside her childhood stuff. She has multiple plush toys (including Pikachu, a hippo, and a turtle), books, a wind-up toy, what looks like a VR headset (?), a phone, papers and a pencil, a boombox and a few CDs, schoolbooks, a mug, a bag, scattered clothes and shoes, a computer keyboard on the desk, and an absolute shrine of Superboy posters and photos, plus a poster of a girl band called Spice World (no celebrities were harmed etc.) The "No Dou[bt]" sticker on her headboard might be a reference to the "No Fear" logo, which was everywhere in the late 90s/early 2000s.

(Wonder Woman 1987 #153)

Cassie's room as portrayed in YJ 1998 is clearly intended to be the same as the room above but with some modifications. The roof no longer slants, the walls are pink, and there is pink carpet instead of a hardwood floor. The furniture is the same, although the bedspread is now pink and she has a Flash throw pillow, and there are additions of a bookshelf, a dresser, and a blue plastic blow-up chair (very late 90s/early 2000s! I think one of my sisters had something like it).

Her décor is aggressively Teenage Girl of the Turn of the Millennium. There are posters that directly reference or parody bands and TV shows of that era (Frontstreet Boys, Spice Girls, Wendy the Werewolf Stalker, Dalton's Creek), something that might be anime ("Ja[...] Warrior"), and superheroes (Flash, Green Lantern, Superboy--only one now and it's behind the door rather than prominently displayed).

Cassie is just as messy as the boys! Items visible include a jar of gumballs, books (including one with "MST3K" on the spine), a pen, a snow globe, a framed photo of her and Cissie, a lamp, comics (Flash and others), a figurine (Pokemon?), an alarm clock, a candle(?), a soda can and chip bag, scattered clothes, a boombox and CDs, a phone, a magazine called Mega Teen, multiple plush toys (including a blue Pikachu, some kind of antennaed alien, and Superman), a duffle bag, a basketball, action figures, a TV, a piggy bank, a framed photo of Diana, a trash can, a bulletin board, a computer at her desk, and sticky notes nearby reminding her to call Cissie and tape MST3K and read certain pages for science.

(Young Justice 1998 #16)

(Young Justice 1998 #19)

A different artist during the Sins of Youth arc depicts the same room but with colors changed yet again: lavender walls and blue carpet with a brown bedspread. There are many of the same items as above but with additions including a horse poster, Titanic posters, potted plants, an astronaut action figure (Buzz Lightyear?), and even more plush toys including a tiger and a cat and a rabbit.

Here, an aged-up Cassie laments how stereotypically youthful her room is, and it's an accurate assessment (although nothing for her to be ashamed of--she is a teenage girl, why shouldn't her room reflect that?). Out of all her team, she has led the most normal, stable life, with a complete childhood, and her room attests to this.

(Sins of Youth: Wonder Girls #1)

Cissie

The earliest room we see for her is her dorm room at the Saint Elias School for Girls, where she lives for the entirety of the YJ 1998 run. At this point, Cissie is still using the frilly costume that her mother provided her, and her room similarly is aggressively girly, especially for a dorm. It has pink walls with a floral border and pink bedding. There's also a desk and bookcase.

Cissie's belongings reflect her archery career and her connections to superheroes. On her wall are a poster of Superman, photos, and a bulletin board. A Batman plush and three teddy bears are her only concessions to childish interests. There's also a lamp, a framed photo of Bonnie King as Miss Arrowette, first-place ribbons and trophies, and books (including such titles as C. E. Letters, Broken Arrow, Shaft, The Life and Works of Ethan Van Sciver, Works (or Words?) of Crybaby, a photo album, Kaniuga: Missing Link, Advanced Archery, JHR's Genius, Kupp's Darkseid, The Biography of Oliver Queen, Robin Hood, William Tell, and Views of L.A. Some of these are references to the names of this issue's writer, penciler/inker, colorist, letterer, and editors!).

(Impulse #41)

Cissie's dorm in YJ 1998 appears to be the same room (now specified as 118), judging by the placement of the furniture and poster, but it is now completely redecorated in a more neutral style that more realistically reflects a dorm room. The walls and bedspread are now blue-gray, and there is crown molding instead of a border. The desk has been moved to the other end of the room. New additions include an alien plush (in place of her earlier stuffed toys), a dresser with mirror, and a computer.

(Young Justice 1998 #20)

By #27, she is rooming with Traya Sutton (Red Tornado's adopted daughter, and they're in Room 356, but we don't get a good look at it until later.

This dorm room has light blue walls and bedspreads, two beds with nightstands and bookshelves, a desk, shelves of boxes, and a window with a window seat between the beds.

Cissie has a bulletin board with something about MST3K pinned to it (a mutual interest with Cassie), a box of filed fan mail, an alarm clock, books, framed photos (an unidentified boy, and her with Cassie), a plush toy, an archery trophy, a 2000 Olympic archery poster, and a Wendy the Werewolf Stalker poster after she guest-stars on that show.

Unlike the other kids, she is tidy in her habits (probably a necessity while living in a dorm where there would be regular room inspections), and her possessions are more overtly grown-up, especially when compared to the much younger Traya's things. Her "fun" items are minimal, she doesn't seem to have many fandoms, and most of her things have to do with her accomplishments.

(Young Justice 1998 #30)

(Young Justice 1998 #33)

Greta

She presumably lives at the YJ headquarters, but if she has a room or any kind of personal space there, we never see it, because no one ever hangs out there.

We do see two of her past living spaces in flashbacks. First, her cell at the DEO. It has light green walls and minimal furnishings: a brown rug, a bed with white bedding, and a table with two chairs (why two? she's in there alone). The DEO has given her a paper and crayons (it looks like she's drawn a tree), a book, and a couple of dolls and their hairbrush, probably in order for them to study how she interacts with these items. There is no décor and no apparent other possessions, and worst of all, the room is windowless with a glass ceiling. She has no privacy at all and cannot leave this room (until she figures out how to escape).

(Young Justice: The Secret #1)

(Impulse #56)

A far cry from Greta's childhood bedroom, which we see as it was when she was very young. It has pink walls and carpet, a bed with a blue bedspread with a pattern of yellow ducks and pink and white striped sheets, and a dresser. She has Barbies and their clothes and accessories with a dollhouse and car, action figures, a hairbrush, a ball, something that looks like an easel, a drawing she made of a rainbow and birds, another doll and a plush toy, a pink and white shoe under the bed, a lamp, a frog clock, and a copy of Alice in Wonderland. Very typical possessions for a little girl. She's the only one of the YJ girls who is seen to have owned dolls (her Barbies even briefly transform into her YJ friends during this flashback).

(Young Justice 1998 #42)

Anita

We get a very brief glimpse of her bedroom at home. Blue walls and carpet, white bed, nightstand, and desk. She has posters of Wendy the Werewolf Stalker (like almost all the other girls!) and someone called "Crisq[...]", a lamp, a glass of water, a small box/container, a plush toy (Martian Manhunter?), a book, a pen, paper, and scattered clothing. Not overly revealing of her interests, but a general impression of a typical teenage girl's room.

(Young Justice 1998 #35)

[isfjmel-phleg]

I was rambling to my long-suffering sister about YJ plotlines and she threw this genius parallel at me:

[isfjmel-phleg]

I've been reading Cassie Sandsmark's early appearances for additional YJ context, and so far it's mostly just her being an excitable, overeager kid, but one situation in particular cracked me up because it's basically

[isfjmel-phleg]

The majority of Cassie Sandsmark's early appearances involve her eagerly wanting to join fights/help out/use her new powers and literally everyone in her life telling her she shouldn't. It's too dangerous! She doesn't have any training! She doesn't listen, saves the day anyway, and the cycle repeats. It's clear that she's got talent and enthusiasm and heart that just need to be channeled the right direction, but it doesn't seem to occur to anybody to systematically train her until quite a while after she acquires her powers.

It's just "Cassandra, no," over and over again.

No wonder she joins Young Justice with a lot of confidence issues.

(But she gets over it! And ends up leading the team! And is good at it!)

Cf. another reckless, overeager, untrained young hero who debuted a few years before Cassie. Showed up extremely powerful and out of control, potentially quite dangerous. Was never told, not even once, not to use these powers or not to join in with other heroes. Proper training was a priority from the beginning.

That was Bart Allen. What was the difference in his case? That he was male and therefore easier to accept as a hero in training?

Cassie's not the only one. I've noticed this pattern of forbidding the girl to join in in the case of Stephanie Brown (as opposed to Tim, who starts off just as inexperienced but doesn't have to wait as long to be taken seriously and trained). Reflective of the attitudes of the time? Probably. But it's a rather ridiculous double standard, especially in a world with many, many established and respected superheroines.

[isfjmel-phleg]

In one of Cassie's earliest appearances, she mentions in passing that her dad is dead, and in YJ 1998, one of her friends refers to her mother as "Mrs. Sandsmark," furthering the implication that she's a widow. The plot point of Cassie's being Zeus's daughter all along didn't come along until 2002 (six years after her debut) and was the introduction of a writer other than her creator. Which is not to say that it doesn't count, but it doesn't seem to have been necessarily the original intention for her character.

...and actually, I rather prefer her being just a regular girl, a nobody who has the audacity to ask Zeus for powers and gets them, rather than a secret demigoddess who gets her latent powers activated--just as I prefer the earlier version of Kon's origin in which he's Westfield's clone with Kryptonian-esque modifications rather than basically the test-tube offspring of Clark and Lex. It's less about the special parentage and more about who they have to become on their own terms and their own merit.

[isfjmel-phleg]

Continuing with the earlier thoughts about the role of changing up costumes in YJ:

Cassie makes her debut in this series in a variation of the costume that she created for herself from items in her closet. It's practical and does its job of concealing her identity, but it does look very thrown together.

(Young Justice 1998 #4)

She does actually own an official Wonder Girl costume! The previous Wonder Girl, Donna Troy, passed on her (very 70s) red, star-patterned jumpsuit, but Cassie is afraid of ruining it and keeps it safely stored in her closet. It's representative of a legacy that she's apprehensive about living up to, so it doesn't seem to really belong to her. She only wears it briefly when she's aged up into an adult in the Sins of Youth storyline, but after that, she tries out a new look in #20.

"The miniskirt thing"? Well, for that, we have to look at Wonder Woman 1986 #153.

In this story, Cassie angsts over not being able to get boys to notice her, specifically Kon. So she enlists the help of Cissie, as a "specialist in superficiality" and "the most Hollywood" of her friends. And between them, they come up with an ensemble including a tight-fitting crop top (heaven forbid a 90s girl wear a whole shirt!), a red, star-patterned miniskirt, and thigh-high socks.

(I'll spare you that panel.)

It's completely inappropriate, especially for a ninth-grade girl, but it's designed so that "Superboy won't be able to keep his eyes off it," which apparently is her only goal here.

...and she ends up getting her first kiss from him, though more from pity than because of the costume, and concludes that she just needs to be herself. Exactly how this story defines that is unclear; there are odd mixed messages and a bad case of Written By A Man Syndrome (pretty sure this writer never once heard a conversation between actual teenage girls).

This is what she means by her "'What was I thinking?' phase." A bit of a put-down to that weird, arguably out of character issue!

Her costume from #20 instead indicates some actual growth. She has moved past her initial placeholder look, a costume that belonged to someone else and that doesn't yet properly fit her, and a misguided attempt to sexualize herself to impress a crush. The new costume can't escape the inevitable 90s influence, but it expresses a suitable youthfulness and looks like it would be more practical to work in (WW #153 forgot to point out that you can't fight in a miniskirt). She has abandoned the dark wig and thus looks more like herself in costume than she ever has before. She's Wonder Girl, but she's specifically her own variation on that mantle in a look that she chose herself and that expresses who she is.

This won't be the last time in this series that she updates her costume, but it establishes the beginning of a more settled and comfortable identity for her--at least, in this series. We don't talk about what happened afterward. :P