#Misty would stop collecting after The Watery

[writeroutoftime]

baby makes three

(gif created by me)

pairing: colin bridgerton x fem!reader (this is for the 3 anons who wanted to see a similar situation with colin being a father!)

summary: snapshots of colin throughout your pregnancy with your first child 

warnings: pregnancy 

words: 1.7k 

a/n: this is the story that kept disappearing in my drafts, but it has reappeared, which is why I’m posting 2 stories back to back! 😂anyway, this is such a sweet thought, and I adored writing it! hopefully it doesn’t seem too choppy, I just thought it would be interesting to write little snippets of colin and yourself preparing to be parents! (as well as some fluff once the baby is born!) anyway, please let me know what you think, and have a lovely day! 

oOoOo

the announcement 

“You’re what?” 

“Pregnant, Colin.” you repeated, unable to keep the smile off your face. “And you’re going to be the most wonderful father!” 

Immediately, Colin’s face morphed from one of disbelief to pure joy in a matter of seconds before he shot forward and wrapped you up in his arms. His laughter and lightheartedness was infectious, and your heart swelled at his reactions. A gasp of surprise left your lips as he spun your around before setting you back down and placing a chaste kiss against your lips. 

Growing up in the Bridgerton family, Colin always knew that he wanted a large family of his own one day. The day he had met you, he knew you were the one for him, and from that day he had imagined starting a family with you. Now, those dreams were coming to fruition, and neither of you could be happier. 

Once recovered, Colin quickly got down on his knees and lovingly placed a kiss to your covered stomach, staring up at you with intense love and devotion in his eyes. You reached down and carded your hand through his thick, chestnut locks, thinking how lucky you were to have someone like Colin in your life. 

“Hello, little bean.” he whispered sweetly. “I cannot wait to meet you, so you just stay safe and keep growing in there until it’s time.” Colin instructed, pulling a laugh from your lips. 

“Little bean?” you questioned the nickname for your unborn child. 

Colin shrugged with a sheepish smile. “Well, we don’t know if we are to have a son or a daughter, so I shall call our precious gift ‘little bean’ for the time being.” he explained as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.  

“Well this little bean and myself love you dearly, Colin.” you praised, smiling down at your husband. 

“And I, the both of you.” he vowed, offering your stomach one more kiss before standing up, unable to keep his lips away from yours. 

5 months 

Colin beamed as he watched you walk into the drawing room and sat down, admiring the glow that you seemed to radiate. The months were passing quickly, and now that there was a visible bump it made your situation feel all the more real. Of course, you had received so much love and support from not only Colin, but the rest of his family, especially the women who had already experienced a pregnancy of their own. It warmed your heart to know you were not alone in this endeavor. 

“Oh!” you suddenly gasped, quickly setting your teacup down and rubbing your stomach where you felt a slight discomfort. 

“Is everything alright, love?” Colin asked as he rushed to your side. “Do we need to call for the doctor? My mother?” he listed, worry glazing over his eyes as he hovered, waiting for your instruction. 

The movement repeated and with your hand rested over your bump, you smiled, realizing what had just happened. “No, no, everything is perfect.” you whispered, lost in wonder and awe. 

“Then what is it?” Colin inquired, still concerned and needing answers. 

Wordlessly, you grabbed his hand and rested it on your stomach, moving it around for a few seconds before pressing down. Colin was about to protest further until he felt the same sensation you did just moments before and his eyes widened at the spot his hand rested on. His eyes then flicked up to meet yours, and neither of you could contain the joy you felt. 

“That’s our little bean in there.” he whispered, voice shaky and eyes misty. 

“That it is.” you whispered, not wanting to disrupt the moment, though you let out a small giggle when you felt the baby kick again. 

“She’s going to be just as beautiful as her mother.” he said. 

“She?” you questioned. “What happened to little bean?” 

“Oh, she’s still our little bean, but I just have a hunch that we’re going to have a daughter to love and spoil.” Colin said, pulling you into your side and soothingly rubbing his hand up and down your bump, and that is where the two of you stayed for the rest of the afternoon. 

8 months 

The further along in your pregnancy you were, the more you found it difficult to sleep, tossing and turning as your child constantly kicked against your stomach. Luckily, Colin was always there to help you and even stayed awake with you on those restless nights. However, one night when sleep was achieved quite easily, you found yourself awakening to Colin’s soft voice. It only took a moment to realize he was talking to your baby, so you kept your eyes closed and your breath even, not wanting to interrupt the moment. 

“I can’t wait until I can hold you in my arms, little bean.” he whispered to your belly, hand supporting his one hand while the other ever so gently rested on your stomach. “You’re mother and I cannot wait for you to be in our lives, and you’re going to be so spoiled between your mother and I and all your aunts and uncles.” 

It was difficult to hold in a laugh as you imagined Colin’s words to be true. The two of you were eager to start your family, and the rest of the Bridgerton clan always enthusiastically welcomed another niece or nephew to dote upon. 

“Speaking of your mother,” Colin continued. “we are so lucky that she is in our lives. I know that this has been difficult for her, but you have been blessed with the best mother. We’ll both have to love and appreciate her as much as possible.” 

By that point, it was exceedingly difficult to keep your act up as you felt tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. How were you so lucky to have such a caring and attentive man like Colin in your life? It seemed as though your baby had been listening and agreed with Colin because right after he spoke, another sharp kick could be felt. 

“Are you giving your mother trouble, little bean?” he asked, brows furrowed as he awaited another kick. “What did I just say about being kind to your mother? It is not nice to kick her that hard, especially at night.” he reprimanded in the gentlest voice. “Even if she is pretending to be asleep.” he added with a smug grin, looking up to meet your eyes. 

Sheepishly, you looked down at your husband. “How did you know I was awake?” you asked, curious as to what it was that gave you away. 

“I could feel your small laugh earlier on.” he admitted, and shifted his body so that he was face to face with you instead of your stomach. “But I truly meant every word I spoke.” he whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lips. 

When you pulled away, you couldn’t stop the tears that ran down your cheeks, moved by the love Colin always gave you. “I’m so lucky to be doing this with you by my side. You are going to be the best father, Colin.” you told him, your voice watery but sincere. 

Colin gently brushed away your tears and kissed the spots where tear tracks had been left behind as he entwined your hand with his. “I think I am the lucky one, love.” he countered, and curled into your side for the rest of the night. 

birth 

The moment you went into labor, Colin was there to hold your hand while sending out for the midwife and doctor as well as his mother. When the doctor tried to shove him out of the room, Colin held his ground and demanded that he be allowed to stay by his wife’s side; he was not about to leave you to fend for yourself at this hour. Hesitantly, the doctor granted his request, and you sighed a breath of relief, as Violet smiled to herself at the sight, her heart warmed at how dedicated the two of you were to each other. 

Hours later, filled with blood, sweat, and tears, you were propped up in your bed, gently holding your daughter in your arms. It was a tender scene between yourself, Colin, and y/d/n. Colin held you in arms and kissed the top of your head while gently stroking his daughter’s cheek with his thumb. It felt surreal that you child was now here and that your family had grown to three. 

“She’s beautiful.” you said, voice barely above a whisper, unable to tear your eyes from your daughter. 

“Just like her mother.” Colin responded, squeezing you a bit tighter. “Thank you, y/n.” he suddenly said, causing you to look up at him. 

“Whatever for?” you asked. 

Colin took a moment to collect his thoughts before he spoke. “For starting our family, for being so strong to support our daughter until she was ready to meet us, for making me so incredibly happy every single day.” he listed over, each one more passionate than the last. 

It was already an emotional day, and you didn’t think your heart could feel any more full, but as usual, Colin found a way to prove you wrong. “I love you so much.” you told him, and he leant his head down to rest against yours as the two of you spent the next couple hours admiring the newest addition to your family. 

Later that night, Colin found that he could not sleep, the excitement and adrenaline of the previous day’s events still coursing through his veins. Carefully, he untangled himself from your embrace and padded over to the bassinet in the corner of your room where your daughter slept. He knelt down next to her and simply watched as she slept her first night. A few minutes later, your daughter opened her eyes and met Colin’s gaze. 

“Hello there, little bean.” he whispered, not wanting to frighten her or wake you up. “I just want to let you know that I love you so, so much, and I’m always going to be here to protect you.” Colin promised as he offered a finger for your daughter to grab a hold of with her tiny hand, ready for everything the future would bring. 

oOoOo

tagging: @dreaming-about-fanfictions​, @elennox03

[yelena-bellova]

Don’t Be Afraid: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader - Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: Where We Go From Here

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n, Rey, Finn and Chewie return to D’Qar and the Resistance determines their next course of action.

Warnings: angst, maybe one curse word, more angst

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: This is a messy chapter but there were so many ends to tie before moving onto TLJ. Grief is also such a weird thing to write about because everyone handles it differently. Hope you like it and as always, excuse the typos.

——————

At some point during the flight home, after crying enough to dehydrate myself, I went numb. My tears stopped, my yelling ceased and I simply sat in the co-pilot’s chair quietly working. We grieved losses all the time in the Resistance, but it was different for me this time. This was my father. There was a part of me that wanted to hop out of hyperspace and fly to some corner of the galaxy where I didn’t have to see anybody. But I remembered my mother, Poe, and all the other people that were counting on us to return. I needed to see them and hold them, I needed to know that I hadn’t lost everyone today. They outweighed my desire to run any day of the week. 

Once we had landed safely, Finn was our priority. Chewie carried him off the ship while Rey and I brought up the rear. I’d used my comm to let base know we’d need medical and true to their word, they were waiting as soon as we hit the tarmac. There was a crowd that consisted of pretty much every Resistance member running towards us. The medical team took Finn from Chewie’s arms and I heard them say that they’d found a heartbeat.

“Y/n!” Poe called.

Poe was alive, I had that to cling to at least. I saw him speeding ahead of everyone else, stopping to quickly look over Finn before meeting me,

“What happened? Are you okay?” he asked hurriedly, taking me into his arms. I pressed my face into his flight suit, inhaling his scent as a reminder that he was real.

“Go with Finn, make sure he’s okay.” I replied quietly, he pulled back to ask another question, “Please, for me. I’ll explain what happened later.”

He hesitated before kissing my cheek and running to catch up with the medical team. Someone needed to be with our friend in case he woke up, though that was unlikely to happen this fast. Rey and I watched as Finn was wheeled away, we could do no more for him. 

It was then that I began to process what Rey and I had just been through. We’d fought together and almost died together, but then our relationship had consisted of little else so far. We met each other’s watery eyes and pulled the other in for a hug, holding on to each other gratefully. I hoped with everything in me that she wasn’t going to go back to Jakku, that she’d stay and fight with us. 

I pulled away to pick through the crowd, scanning for one person. I should’ve known she’d already be there waiting for us. My mother and I locked eyes and my heart felt like it was breaking all over again. It was clear to see she already knew about Dad, it was impossible for her not to have sensed it. I took a few slow steps towards her before running into her arms. We clung to each other tightly as we silently grieved together, there was nothing that seemed right to say. At some point we’d talk about it, but the wound was far too fresh. We were now the last remaining members of the Solo family. That alone was one reason I was glad I had survived, I couldn’t bear the thought of my mother having lost her whole family. She pulled away and took my face in her hands, pressing our foreheads together. I could feel her grief, her heartbreak, every emotion that was flowing through her. I’d made the decision flying back that I had to tell her about my powers. She deserved to know and I couldn’t live with the guilt anymore.  

We broke apart and I turned her towards Rey, they had yet to meet but Mom had heard so much about her. Rey looked like a kicked Porg, helpless and scarred by what she’d seen today. I watched Mom give my friend the first motherly embrace she’d had since she was a child. Rey sunk into it easily, but she quickly pulled me by the arm to join them. The three of us stood there for a moment, taking comfort in the fact that we didn’t have to face our struggles alone. I only wished I was shedding tears the same way they were, but I couldn’t find the strength to. All my strength, emotional and physical, had been used in the forest.

——————

I’d never heard the command center so quiet, no one made a noise louder than a deep breath. Chewbacca sat in a corner, a paw to his head letting out a little moan every few minutes. He was hurting just as much as me and my mother were. A couple majors and lieutenants stood around the round table, Snap and Jess nearby as well. Mom stared aimlessly at a chart, I’d come over and put my hand on hers and she’d halfheartedly squeezed it. We needed to mourn together, but we also needed time on our own. Rey sat atop a crate, no doubt trying to wrap her head around the situation she was now in. I sat on the stone seating against one of the cold rock walls, staring at a wall. Poe had entered eventually to report that Finn was stable and the medics said he had a fighting chance. While I was beyond relieved, I couldn’t crack a smile.

Poe kneeled down in front of me, “Sweetheart, what happened out there?”

I met his loving gaze, wanting to tell him everything but knowing that if I did, I’d feel too much at once. It would all come out in a jumble of tears and words. I was opening my mouth to say that when 3PO entered,

“General? Excuse me? General? R2-D2 may contain some much needed good news.” “R2?” I called, turning my head to hear a series of beeps I hadn’t heard in twelve years. I watched the familiar droid, who’d sat collecting dust under a sheet for so long, roll to find me. I dropped to my knees at the sight of him and threw my arms around him, “Buddy, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” I’m happy to see you too, but I’m going to need you to let go so I can show you something.

I released him so he could back up next to me and project a large hologram map in the air. Poe pulled me to my feet and we stood together examining it, the map was practically complete except for one missing piece. 

“Wait a minute…” I mumbled just as BB-8 rolled in front of our group to take a look at the map before beeping ecstatically. He turned to Poe,

Give me the drive! Give me the drive! “Yeah, all right, buddy. Hold on.” Poe went to the computer we’d saved the drive in and retrieved it. He inserted it into BB-8, who rolled across from R2 and projected a hologram of the piece of the map. Everyone in the room gasped as Bee inserted his piece into the empty shape, the map was whole. 

“The map! It is complete!” 3PO exclaimed, I covered my gaping mouth and immediately turned around to find my mother. She was just as awestruck as I was, I made my way to her and put a hand on her shoulder. I gave a breathy chuckle and we embraced, in the worst circumstances we had found a shred of hope. My uncle was out there and we could go find him now. After breaking from her, I turned to Poe, who was standing behind us, and practically leapt into his arms. Our mission was complete. 

Less than an hour later, our group settled around the map table to decide what the next plan of action was.

“We’re going to need a team to go and locate Master Skywalker,” Admiral Statura stated. 

“It doesn’t need to be a team,” my mother spoke up, “We can’t afford to spare more people than needed.” “So we send one person to go retrieve him?” Bracca inquired.

“Yes,” Mom answered, “But the right one. I’d go myself but I need to be here in case of an ambush. There’s no saying that the First Order doesn’t know where we are and with what we just did, there is chance of attack.”

“Commander Solo?” 

I was zoned out, giving all my focus to the center of the table. It was the mention of my last name that caused me to finally look up, everyone was looking to me expectantly.

“Are you willing to lead the mission to go find Skywalker?” Statura asked. 

I looked back down at the table, I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say. I’d fought my mother tooth and nail over the past few years about going and finding Luke. But now that the time had come, I was less enthusiastic about the prospect. I was exhausted, beaten down and drowning in grief. But. war waited for no one and it didn’t care about your losses. 

I nodded softly, “I’ll go.”

Mom looked over, her lips pressed in a thin line and her eyes misty, “Y/n…” “No,” I objected, “Someone needs to and I’m the one that begged to go in the first place. It should be me,” I bit down hard on my lip, every part of me screaming to stay put, “I’ll be fine.” “General,” Rey said, “I’ll go.”

“Rey,” I began, watching her expression change from solemn to confidant in a matter of seconds. “Y/n, you’ve been through too much today to turn around and leave again. I want to do this, for you and for the Resistance.” I ran a hand through my hair and addressed the group, “I trust her, Rey was a scavenger on Jakku. She’s a fighter too, a damn good one.”

“Rey, are you sure you’re up to this?” Mom asked.

“More than sure,” Rey nodded, “I want to do my part.”

The most joy I could summon came out as a quirk of the corner of my lips. I was overwhelmingly grateful for my friend’s gesture though, and I would make sure to  communicate that. 

“Then it’s decided,” Mom announced, “Rey will take the Falcon, Chewbacca and R2 to locate Master Skywalker. The rest of us will remain here and keep watch for an attack. Meeting dismissed.”

Rey was almost immediately whisked away to get a change of clothes and a room assignment. I’d have to talk to her later. Meanwhile, I’d fill my quota of usefulness for the day and was craving the safety of my quarters. 

“I’m going to head to my room,” I whispered to Mom, “I’m assuming you’re going to stay here for now?” She took a deep breath, “I have to, someone needs to be steering the ship.”

I nodded somberly, my mother was the strongest person I’d ever known. Even while mourning the love of her life, she was still carrying out her duties. I attempted to do it but Mom succeeded at it, there was no second thought in her mind as to what needed to be done. 

“Darling,” she said as I’d begun to move away, taking my hand into hers, “Say the word and I’ll come running.”

Unable to think of the right thing to say, I simply squeezed her hand and hurried out of the command center. The walk to my room was uneventful, most people were still outside or in the mess hall celebrating our victory. Victory? Was it a victory? I suppose to most, it was the biggest victory the Resistance had seen in a long time. Meanwhile I’d just suffered my greatest loss and couldn’t find joy in anything. Yet since returning, three things that should have made me happy had happened. R2 had woken up, we’d located Uncle Luke, and Finn was most likely going to live. But my father was still dead, that was the overshadowing event of the day. 

I halfheartedly punched in the code to my room and dragged myself in. Shutting my door, the first thing I did was take off my jacket and unclip the lightsaber that I’d reattached in the Falcon. I tucked it away in a desk drawer, this time out of care and not shame. Dropping the jacket on my chair, I then sank onto the edge of my bed and buried my face in my hands. I felt like I’d aged decades over the past few hours. I shut my eyes and rubbed them, but as soon as I did, I saw everything. 

The red blade sliding through Dad’s back.

“No…”

His lifeless body falling down the shaft.

“No…” Kylo’s face as he attacked me.

“No…”

“You’re a worthless orphan who your brother should have left to die.”

“NO!”

I snapped.

I sprang from the bed and began using the Force to extract drawers from my dresser in a frenzy. Tears fell freely once again, streaming down my cheeks like the saddest river. I yelled as I extended my hand to the dresser itself, slamming it to the ground. Next was my desk, I tipped it over but the drawer containing my saber stayed untouched. I let out a loud cry as I raised my hand to my bed, lifting the mattress in the air and making it fly across the room. Once I’d redecorated the room, I was left with the overwhelming emotions swirling inside me. I dropped to my knees and sobbed violently as I replayed my father’s death and my fight with Kylo. I hadn’t heard the sound of the keypad beeping or the door opening and closing over my cries. 

“Y/n!” Poe exclaimed, his arms wrapped around me and held me tightly. I blindly felt around for his hands, which quickly grasped mine and squeezed. He made no effort to stop me from crying, he knew that if I was having this strong of a reaction it was justified. But his warm touch and soothing voice, repeatedly speaking my name, quelled my manic state. He opened his legs and adjusted me between them, my back falling against his firm chest. I leaned my head against his, occasionally he’d dip down and press a tender kiss to my shoulder. My tears continued to fall, though switching to a softer steady stream eventually. The room was near silent as he gently rocked us back and forth, the only sound filling the air was my sniffling. 

“He’s dead,” I whispered, “My dad’s dead.” Poe let out a heavy sigh, “I thought he might be, I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” “I watched him die, Poe,” I trembled, “I watched Kylo Ren kill him.”

Poe stopped rocking and turned his head to look at me, “What?” I nodded, more tears escaping my eyes.

“Oh, Y/n…” Poe said lowly, “I can’t believe you had to see that.”

“I had to fight him too.” “You fought him?” “I didn’t have much of a choice.” He dropped his forehead to my shoulder, shuddering as he probably conjured up a visual of me battling Ren. I squeezed his hand reassuringly,

“I’m here, you didn’t lose me.” “I know,” he insisted, “I just wish you wouldn’t have had to go through all that.”

I sniffled, “Yeah, me too.”

Poe kissed my temple and between the tenderness of the moment and the memories surfacing, I began crying again.

“What can I do for you?” Poe whispered against my hair.

“Just stay with me. Please…” I whimpered before dissolving into another fit of sobs. Poe dropped his head back down to my shoulder and tightened his grip. We rode out the wave of sorrow together and once I’d quieted down, he told me to “stay there for a second” and stood up. I turned and watched him lug my mattress back up into it’s frame. Once it was secure, he came back and lifted me into his arms, carrying me over and laying me down gently. He climbed over to the other side and pulled me into his warm embrace, which I melted into. I settled underneath his chin and wept into his flight suit, Poe’s hand rubbing my back slowly. 

“Thank you,” I whispered. “For what?” 

“For coming back to me.”

Poe kissed the top of my head, “Always, sweetheart. Always.” —————

When I woke up, I was still cradled in Poe’s arms. We’d flipped in our sleep and his chest was now pressed to my back, our legs tangled together. He was lightly snoring, getting well deserved rest after what we’d been through. However I’d caught a whiff of myself and practically gagged. I was just as sad as I’d been last night, but I could mourn and be clean at the same time. Poe’s grip was tight but I was able to wriggle out, thank goodness he was a heavy sleeper. I navigated my way around the drawers I’d abused and grabbed a change of clothes. I tiptoed into the refresher and shut the door quietly, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked like a person who’d been dragged through a desert, the snow, a couple fights complete with a wicked case of bedhead. So…not great. I peeled off my clothing, kicked off my boots, and got into the shower. I’d been so spent last night I’d even slept in my shoes. Poe hadn’t changed from his flight suit either so clearly he’d been just as tired.

Alone with no distractions, I thought of Dad again. Though instead of thinking about his last few seconds, I thought of our last interactions. In our last day spent together, we’d had two of our best conversations (we were Solos of course, communication wasn’t our forte) piloted the Falcon together, fought together and the best of them all…I’d reunited him with Mom and enjoyed a few short minutes of having my family together again. I smiled for the first time since yesterday at the memory of being squished between my parents, telling them I loved them. Love. Dad’s last words to me had been telling me how much he loved me, how he wanted to keep me safe. The man was a scoundrel, but damn it if he didn’t fiercely protect his loved ones. I’d known people in the Resistance who’d lost loved ones. Their last interaction with them had been a fight or they’d missed the chance to say ‘I love you’ one last time. I was lucky enough to have had a last day with my father that I would cherish for the rest of my life. Dangerous and crazy as it had been...That was perhaps the only comfort I could take regarding his death. 

I changed into a pair of cargo pants and a plain black tank top, understandably forgoing my commanders uniform. I towel dried my hair, brushed my teeth and felt a little better about facing the day. However, I could no longer ignore my stomach growling. The adrenaline that had sustained me since Jakku had long worn off and I realized just how dehydrated and starved I was. I quietly opened the door to reveal a sleepy Poe sitting on the edge of my bed rubbing his eyes. As soon as he registered my presence, he was up and crossing the room to me.

“Hey” he greeted, his voice gravelly, “I was wondering where you went.”

“Couldn’t stand my smell any longer,” I explained with a quiet laugh, intertwining our hands.

“If it helps, I didn’t notice any smell,” he said, smiling down at me. 

Silence fell over the room as our eyes met, his deep brown ones carrying the same worry and sadness for me as last night. Poe had many lovable qualities, but the one I admired the most was how deeply he loved the people close to his heart. He cared so profoundly for me it almost broke my heart in the best way. I gently pulled him down to place my lips on his in a sweet morning kiss. Poe’s lips moved against mine carefully, as if he was afraid I’d break with too much pressure. I almost appreciated it, a heated make-out session didn’t feel appropriate with the somber cloud hanging over the room. My thumbs rubbed against the sides of his neck as we broke apart, he pressed a final kiss to my forehead and encircled my hips.

“How are you doing?” he asked cautiously.

I sighed, “I don’t know. I’m still…shattered, but I’m also grateful for the last day I spent with him. I’m definitely not done crying about it but I also have work to do…” “Y/n,” Poe began, his hands sliding up my back, “You can take time off, you deserve it.” “No, no, not Resistance work. Personal stuff.” He raised a concerned eyebrow, “Should I be worried?” I chuckled, “You hitched your cart to a Solo, you should always be worried.”

Poe chortled, “I don’t think truer words have ever been spoken.”

A knock at the door surprised both of us, I padded over and opened it to reveal 3PO. He was carrying a tray with a large plate of food and glass of water,

“Good morning, Mistress Solo. Your mother requested that I bring you breakfast.” “Thanks, 3PO,” I took the tray from his hands, “I appreciate it.” “You are most welcome,” he began to leave but came back, ”Oh, and she has requested a meeting with you in her chamber before Rey and Chewbacca depart. 

“Okay, tell her I’ll meet her in a half hour.”

——————

After downing the food and drink 3PO had brought and convincing Poe I was well enough that he could go shower and eat breakfast, I knocked on my mother’s door. 

When she opened, she was dressed in a stunning blue dress with her grey hair styled beautifully atop her head. But the redness in her puffy eyes, identical to mine, suggested she hadn’t had a pleasant night or morning. I took her hand immediately as she ushered me in, as soon as the door was shut we embraced. What was it about your mother’s holding you that immediately brought every emotion you were trying to hide to the surface? Quietly, I cried into her shoulder but unlike yesterday, I knew that today we needed to talk. I dried my eyes and walked to her bed, sitting down and resting my arms between my legs. Mom sat down next to me and gracefully folded her hands in her lap,

“I just have one question for the time being.” “Hmm?” “Did you have to watch?” My eyes watered again as I played the long lasting seconds back in my mind, the blade had pierced him so easily. He was defenseless. And of course she’d known who killed him, she’d felt a double dose of pain when it happened. I nodded sadly and buried my face in my hands, elbows balanced on my knees. Mom rubbed my back soothingly, allowing me my moment. After I’d collected myself, I sat up straight and nervously began,

“There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago.”

I stood and began pacing, nervously rubbing my hands and trying to craft the perfect sentence. 

“Okay,” I paused my steps. “You might be mad or you could be really worried about me. To be honest, I wouldn’t blame you if you’re both. But please, try to understand why I kept it from you for so long.” “Darling, is this about you having the Force?” “Yes,” I exhaled loudly, “I’m sorry that I hid it from you for…wait, WHAT?”

Mom sighed as she looked at me lovingly, “Sweetie, I’ve known since the minute I met you. You practically radiate it.” I can only imagine how ridiculous I looked with my jaw slack and my brows furrowed deeply,

“W-wait,” I waved my hands, “If you’ve known for this long, why didn’t you just tell me?”

Mom raised her eyebrows and smiled, “Now, I could ask you the same thing.” I tilted my head quickly as if to say ‘fair point’ and crossed my arms, awaiting her explanation.

“Soon after we adopted you, Luke came to visit. As soon as he saw you, his eyes lit up and I could tell he knew. He pulled me aside and told me he hadn’t felt the Force this strong in someone since Ben was born.” I clenched a fist at the name spoken, but kept my focus on her words.

“He told me that when he met you, he had a sudden vision. He didn’t tell me the details of it, even when I pushed him, but he said he couldn’t. All he told me was that it was imperative to your journey that you discover your powers on your own.”

Imperative? Journey? What had Uncle Luke seen in my future? Mom continued, “We told your father, he never knew what to make of Luke’s premonitions but he trusted him. So we waited, waited for you to discover your power and tell us,” she gave a half shrug, “But you never did. Though when you were seven, I began to sense that you were feeling things like fear and shame. Am I right in assuming that’s when it happened?” I bowed my head and nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” “Because,” my head shot up, “Because the first time I used my powers, I used them in anger and it terrified me. I was so afraid of what I was capable of, I didn’t use them again for years.” Mom gave a slight nod, “I can understand that. Well, I can’t tell you how glad it makes me that it’s out in the open. But I sense there’s something more to all of this that I don’t know.” I blew my cheeks out and shook my head, “There’s a lot more. Do you remember the night on Chandrila when I took the Falcon?”

“Vividly.” she retorted, giving me the mom look that made every child feel guilty, no matter their age.

“It wasn’t that I couldn’t sleep,” I went on, “I’d been communicating with…him, through the Force. That night, I sensed he was in danger and he didn’t answer me. I knew something was wrong so I took the Falcon and flew to Yavin 4.” A single tear fell down my cheek as I gathered strength to relay the next portion to her, “It was just as Uncle Luke said. Once I found him, I tried to reason with him but he was too far gone to listen to me. He turned on me and we ended up dueling. I managed to knock him out and was able to escape before he woke up. But not before grabbing this…” I reached into my jacket and unclipped my lightsaber, displaying it for my mother. Her watery eyes widened slightly, but she still maintained her calm composure. 

“I can’t explain why I took it, I just felt compelled to. Since then, I’ve been training with it and in my abilities to use the Force. I’m learning trial by error, usually I do it in the forest or in my room. I started carrying this,” I rolled the saber in my palm, “With me a while back, I just felt safer having it on me.”

I set the weapon down on Mom’s desk and placed my hands on my hips. The next chapter of my story made the one I’d just finished telling look like a fucking fairytale…

“Then yesterday happened.” “Y/n, you don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to-“ Mom began.

“We fought again,” my voice wavered, “Rey, Finn and I had just escaped the oscillation station and were racing to the Falcon. He found us somehow and I was furious about Dad and of course,” I chuckled bitterly, “He knew every single button to press, I attacked him and was pretty much ready to kill him.”

My face was wet with teardrops now and I’d turned away from Mom, too ashamed to face her. 

“He tried to get me to join him and that was when I woke up and looked at myself. I’d spent so many years worried I’d become him and... there I was, ready to strike him down. I dropped my lightsaber and told him no, I wouldn’t join him. Just like that night at the temple, he tried to kill me. If it hadn’t been for Finn, I wouldn’t be standing here. We ended up fighting again, except Rey stepped in too at one point. The last conversation me and him had was him threatening to kill me and wipe out the Resistance and me admitting that my brother was gone.” I ran a hand through my hair and turned back to my mother, her face was unreadable. She was staring at the wall, I could practically see the gears turning in her head.  

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” I whispered, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect Dad, I’m sorry I failed the promise I made you yesterday. I’m sorry I kept all this from you and I’m sorry that you have to live with another family member with the Force.”

Finally, she turned and said, “Why do you think you owe me an apology?” I shrugged and dropped my hands at my side, sniffling loudly as more tears fell. 

“Y/n, I’m sorry that you felt you needed to keep this from me. And I am beyond sorry that you had to go through all of this,” she stood and crossed the room to me, “Darling, people like you and I who posses this gift will always admit to having had moments of struggle with their emotions. But that does not make them bad people or too far past help. You’ve done this on your own for so long, honey, it’s time to let go of any shame or guilt you may feel.” Twenty years. I’d hidden this from her for twenty years, I’d been afraid of myself for twenty years. With her last sentence, I felt the chains I’d bound myself in break and I suddenly felt more like myself than ever. I sobbed out of relief and my mother threw her arms around me. We stayed like that for a while, grieving and rejoicing together.

——————

The machines being used to monitor Finn’s levels beeped and hummed steadily. I sat in a chair next to him, watching his chest rise and fall, reminding myself that he’d be okay. He’d risked his life to protect Rey and I, how was I supposed to repay that debt? I guessed that he wouldn’t be leaving the Resistance once he woke up, I’d have plenty of time to think of ways. 

A knock on the wall broke me from my thoughts, I looked up to see Rey. She was clothed in a new set of clothes, a white tank top, a flared grey vest, matching arm wraps and dark pants that were hemmed at her calves. 

“I looked for you last night but I figured you were probably busy,” she shared.

“Yeah,” I grunted as I readjusted myself in my seat, I’d been here a while, “Last night wasn’t a great night.” “Understandable,” she pulled up another chair and sat on the other side of Finn, “I’m so sorry, Y/n.” “There wasn’t much time for condolences after, was there?” I remarked, raising my eyes to meet hers. She looked like she was holding back a thousand questions and explanations.

“Rey, I’m doing alright,” I reassured, crossing my legs and settling into my seat, “Even if I wasn’t, we need to talk before you leave.”

Rey nodded and her shoulders relaxed with knowing she wasn’t intruding on my grieving. She proceeded to tell me how at Maz Kanata’s castle when she’d gone to retrieve Finn, she’d felt something pulling her in a different direction. She’d ended up downstairs and had opened up the chest to reveal Luke’s lightsaber. When she picked it up, she’d been subject to a terrifying vision that she said felt more like a bad dream. I had to stop myself from laughing, I knew nothing about those…

Maz found her there and explained to her that the lightsaber was calling to her. Rey had wanted absolutely nothing to do with any part of it. She’d run into the forest, that’s where BB-8 caught up to her and the First Order arrived shortly after that. 

“Ren found me there, he used some mind trick on me that caused me to pass out,” she explained, “The next thing I remember is waking up restrained and he was there. He tried to extract the map from me, Y/n, he was inside of my mind but somehow, I was able to enter his.” I had my chin propped up on my fist, leaning my weight on the chair’s arm, “I’ve no answers for you as to how you did that, I’m not as advanced as you may think.” “Whatever it was, I was able to do it without even thinking about it,” she continued, “After that, it just got stranger.” She explained how she’d been able to use a Jedi mind trick on a Stormtrooper to let her out and leave her with a weapon. Now that I had heard of, but never attempted to do. The thought of messing with someone’s mind felt invasive to me, but perhaps necessary in certain situations. Rey had made her way through Starkiller Base undetected until eventually running into us. “We saw you scaling the wall of the base,” I smirked, “Thoroughly impressive.” Rey smiled slightly and ducked her head down. We were at the part of her story where she didn’t need to fill in much,

“I didn’t expect when I reached out for the lightsaber that it would come to me,” she disclosed, “But Maz was right, it called out to me. I’d never used one in my life.” “Then that’s even more impressive than the wall climbing,” I chuckled, I was doing what I could to lighten the mood a little.

“I don’t know what my place is in all of this,” she said, looking around the room, “But I know I want to be a part of it. I just don’t know yet what this power I have is.” “Well,” I began, “I can fill in a few blanks. You’re obviously gifted with the Force, Rey. I have the same power, though I’ve gone untrained since I discovered I possessed it. I was just a kid and I was terrified of it up until today, so you’re already a few steps ahead of me when it comes to acceptance. Everything I know about the Force I know because of what I’d overhear from my family, what I saw in Kylo or by figuring it out on my own. I need help too, same as you. That’s why I’m glad one of us is going to go find my uncle.” “And you’re okay with me going?” she asked hesitantly.

“I’m incredibly grateful,” I specified, ���I need to do my job from here for a while, but also selfishly I’m not ready to head back out yet. Not after what happened.”

“Your father,” she leaned forward, “Was a good man. He showed me kindness without even knowing me.”

I squinted, “I’m not sure we’re talking about the same guy.” Kind was not have been the first word I would use to describe Dad. 

“I mean it, he offered me a job on the Falcon working for him when we were on Takodana.”

“Ooh,” I inhaled, “I’ve worked on that ship with him many times before. He was arrogant, yelling orders left and right. Constantly looking over my shoulder to make sure I was doing everything right.”

“So I wouldn’t have liked it?” Rey asked. 

“Nah,” I smiled nostalgically, “You would’ve loved it.”

Rey smiled widely, “Even though the circumstances weren’t ideal, I can’t tell you how thankful I am that you and I crossed paths.” I beamed, “Me too. When do you leave?” “I’m actually on my way out now, but I wanted to find you and check on Finn,” she replied, “He’s going to be alright?” 

“That’s what the doctors told me this morning, it’ll just take him a while to wake up.” “Good,” she was looking him over with such caring eyes, it felt like a private moment.

“I’ll give you a minute with him, I’ll wait outside for you. Take your time.” I stood up and walked towards the door, but not before stopping to place my hand on Rey’s shoulder. She slid hers over it and squeezed gently, our close knit trio was about to go their separate ways for the time being. I exited the room and shut the door so that Rey had privacy if she needed to say something to Finn. After a few minutes, she came out the door looking as ready as she could for what lay ahead. We walked through the base mostly in silence, until Rey picked up on how many looks we were receiving.

“Why are so many people staring at us?” she whispered.

“Word travelled fast about what happened on Ilum,” I replied as I smiled at a waving worker, “I think we’re considered heroes now.”

“But what did I do? You guys did all the work.” “You got us into the oscillation station, plus you’re headed to go get Luke,” I said, “Get used to the word, you’ll be hearing it a lot.” Rey simply shook her head in surprise as we exited the building. There was a large crowd gathered outside the Falcon, people were eager to see it off. 

“Now I don’t have to tell you to be careful with the ship, do I?” 

“No, but why don’t you just to really drive it in?” she smiled.

“Gladly,” I said, “The Falcon means everything to me. I grew up on it, I’ve lived in it, I learned to fly on it. And now,” I stopped before the crowd noticed us, “Now it’s the last piece of my father that I have. If you have any questions, Chewie will be with you and he knows the ship just as well as I do. When in doubt, ask him. Please don’t take any chances with her unless you absolutely have to. You’re a fantastic pilot so I know you’ll do great. Just treat her well, she’ll protect you.” “Of course, Y/n. I’ll bring her back in one piece for you.” Rey assured me, I believed her. 

“I trust you,” I placed a hand on her arm and we began walking again.

The crowd cheered as they caught sight of us, they wished Rey luck as she passed them by. My mother was at the front awaiting our arrival, she pulled Rey aside and I went to say goodbye to Chewie and R2. Chewie embraced me as soon as I got close enough, we both shed a few tears into each other. Short on time, we had to pull away sooner than desired.

“You keep Rey safe and do the same for yourself,” I ordered, “Direct orders from your commander and un-biological niece.” Chewie purred in reply, promising that they would be okay and that he loved me. 

I hugged him one last time, “I love you too, fuzzball.” I went over to R2 and kneeled down, “I just got you back, now I’ve gotta say goodbye.” I’ll come back and I’ll have Luke with me.

“I know you will, I’m sure he’ll have missed you.” If he was going to miss me then maybe he SHOULD HAVE TAKEN ME WITH HIM.

“Hey, hey,” I laughed, “Don’t give him too much trouble when you see him, he’s been through a lot.”

Fine…

I wrapped my arms around him, “Be safe, I’ll catch you up on everything you missed when you get back.” I stood and turned to see Rey walking in my direction, it was about that time. Once she reached me, I saw her eyes carried the same unshed tears that mine did. We embraced each other tightly, I knew she’d be okay but I still had the overwhelming fear of losing her. After years of feeling alone, struggling with my powers, I’d finally found someone who was like me. We shared a unique bond that few could understand, we needed each other.

“Please be safe,” I said. “I will, you do the same,” she pulled away, “Is there anything you want me to tell your uncle for you?”

I sighed, “That his niece wants to hear about his vision. He’ll know what it means…”

Rey nodded confusedly, “I’m trusting you to explain what it means when I get back.” “Will do,” I replied, giving her hand a squeeze before she broke away to step on board the ship. 

I made my way back to the front of the crowd to stand with my mother, catching a glimpse of Poe dressed in his commanders uniform. 

“I’m assuming she talked to you before she left,” I commented.

“She did,” Mom responded, watching as the ship powered up.

“Think Luke’ll be able to help her?” I asked.

“Hopefully, he’ll help us all.”

Our hopes really did rest with my uncle, if anyone could help us it would be him. He’d helped save the galaxy once, hopefully he could give a repeat performance. I patted Mom’s shoulder and went to stand next to Poe, “Love the uniform.” “It’s itchy as hell and you know it,” he replied, sneaking a scratch at his visibly red neck.

I smirked and watched as the Falcon lifted into the air. It was harder than I thought it would be to watch it leave without me onboard. Tears began to flood my eyes, Poe must have been dialed into my senses because his hand intwined itself with mine. They’d be okay, they’d come back, I’d repeat it to myself a thousand times if that’s what kept me calm. The next time I saw my friends, my uncle would be with them. The Falcon jumped to lightspeed and then it was out of sight. The crowd disbanded shortly after, my mom was already being whisked away to a meeting. Poe and I stayed out on the tarmac with BB-8 at our feet,

“What do you have on your schedule today?” I asked.

“I cleared it as soon as I got back to my room this morning.” I tilted my head, “What for? “For you,” he replied, running a hand through his curls, “Look, when I lost my mom I was in a different mood every hour. Depressed, angry, sentimental, you name it. Whether you want to be alone or if you want someone there with you, I wanted to be 100% available.” There it was, that overwhelming, heart swelling feeling of love for him. I’d have to get used to it because I had a feeling that Poe wasn’t going to stop being this sweet. With the crowd gone, I pushed into him and kissed him firmly, pulling him closer by his collar. I’d caught him off-guard, but he settled into it quickly, his hands finding my hips. Once we broke, he nuzzled his nose against mine sweetly, 

“Whatever you need, I’ve got you,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, “Why don’t we go back to your room and you entertain me with the story of how you got off Jakku?” He kissed my forehead, “You got it, sweetheart.” We walked back into base, hands locked together and hope in our hearts that the future was brighter than what was behind us.

————

A/N: There we have it! I’m sad I won’t get to write interactions between Rey and the Reader for a while, but you’ll finally get a healthy, well deserved dose of Poe. And I swear one day I’ll learn how to write a decent kiss scene 😂 Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 😊

Taglist: @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @springfox04 @constantdisgrace @holybatflapexpert @seninjakitey @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet @leilei-draws @eternal-fandoms @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @imaginecrushes @eternallyvenus @thescarletknight2014 @simplybarnes @captain-america5 @breyasficletblog @caseymcflurry @stumbleonmywords @april-14-blog @i-ievu @ultrunning @desperatelytryingtosavemyself @caswinchester2000 @meraki-loki @lovinnholland

[unfunny-quips]

Snippets from The Disappearance of Amamiya Ren: Part II

Part I is here.

Part Two:

It’s an exhausting three months that follow.

Akechi Goro wakes a free man years after the rest of the world had forgotten he even existed. The former detective is shaky and confused when he wakes. The nurse, when Sojiro speaks to her, reveals how strange the boy’s return to the world was. Dead to the world one second, blinking awake and rasping a reply in a conversation only he knew the next.

“He was saying something about someone being sentimental.” The nurse tells him, face pinched as she peers into the hospital room where the gaunt man is being coached through small exercises by his physical therapist. He has a long road ahead of him getting back muscle mass and balance he lost while laying stationary for so long. Sojiro doesn’t envy him the coming months.

The nurse meet’s Sojiro’s glance with a soft, uncertain expression and he knows she’s going to tell him something that’s going to break his heart even more than it already is. 

“He asked where Amamiya-San was, kept saying they had just been talking.” The nurse looks equal parts apologetic and sad, her gaze a little misty as she speaks.

Ren had been beloved by the staff at the long term care facility. A fixture as present as any doctor, nurse or orderly. He visited Akechi every single day he physically could since highschool. Spending hours speaking to the comatose boy or reading aloud to him - sci fi and fantasy, mythology and folklore, occasionally even the Arsene Lupin series, though Sojiro’s a little unclear on why that series specifically. Ren would comb out Akechi’s hair and trimming the slowly growing scruff on the unconscious man’s chin, make sure his nails were kept trim and neat. Akechi was the most well cared for patient in possible all of Japan, from the way the nurses tell it. 

Ren never told Sojiro that he was in love with Akechi, but then he never had to either.

Actions, Sojiro felt, said far more than words ever could.

The nurse clears her throat a little, her voice still heavy as she says, “I think he remembered hearing him, while he was in the coma.”

Sojiro pretends his own eyes aren’t watery and gives a soft, sad sigh. His grey gaze turns to Akechi - looking pale and weary after only a few minutes of small, carefully movements with his arms and legs - and feels a heaviness in his chest. A pressing weight that has been there since he got that first call, since the moment Ren disappeared.

When they’d come to the hospital to see him - Sojiro, Futaba, Sae and, surprisingly, Ann - the first thing the former detective had done was furrow his brow in confusion, eyes tracing over each apprehensive face carefully. Sojiro remembers the silence that choked the room, the heavy uncertainty from both sides as to just how they were meant to handle this situation. Remembers the way Akechi’s eyes narrowed as he weakly turned his head as if to look behind them.

Then there had been that rasping sound. A voice unused for nearly a decade, worn thin by the exhaustion of being part of the waking world so long.

“Where is he?”

Like it was impossible that Ren would be anywhere else when Akechi Goro had clawed his way back to the conscious world after nearly a decade. 

Sojiro understood that disbelief. It was just as impossible a concept to him and the rest as it was to Akechi that the dark haired thief would not be there. Would not have already made camp in the hospital room and started making plans of living arrangements and therapy schedules and a future that had once seemed impossible. How could Akechi come back and Ren not be there?

Ren who hunted down specialists and research that might possibly be able to pull Akechi back. Ren who had never given up on Akechi, no matter how many people told him he should. Ren who never loved anyone half as much as he did the boy he met so many years ago.

That Ren wasn’t there when Akechi had finally come back...that more than anything made Sojiro afraid.

---

“There’s something going on with the Amamiya case.”

The news is...disturbing. On more levels than one. Sojiro frowns as he stares down at his coffee, rolling his unlit cigarette in between his fingers as he considers what he’s being told.

It’s been a little over half a year since Ren’s disappearance, and they’re no closer to finding him than they were the day the news broke. Just a gaping hole of an organization that by all accounts didn’t exist and the distinct lack of any sign of Ren. When one of his old friends who still worked in CIRO called, Sojiro had been hopeful that there was news. A lead, a clue, hell he’d take a ransom letter from a foreign agency at this point so long as it meant some clue as to just where he’s son is. It’s the uncertainty that’s killing him, the not knowing just what he’s fighting against to get Ren back.

It’s not a lead though. Instead the news his friend gives him is...unsettling. Ominous really. The kind of news that speaks of something big at the horizon, a threat of a storm nastier than what they can really weather.

“They’re forgetting.” His friend says, her voice hushed and strained. She sounds like she’s locked herself in a broom closet, hunkered down in a corner like a child afraid her parents might find her up after bedtime. “I was checking in with Shibata to see if he had any luck looking into that lead I told you about -” 

Another wild fox chase they’d uncovered. A collection of documents that supposedly held Ren’s itinerary for his time being loaned out. Sojiro had discounted the idea as soon as he heard it - shady organizations, in his experience, didn’t do itineraries - but had asked that the likely dead end be followed up anyway on the off chance that it gave them something tangible to chase. Shibata was one of the newer faces running around, fresh on the job as Sojiro was leaving but a good nose for investigation from what Sojiro had heard since. 

“And when I asked him,” his friend continues with her strained whispering, “He had no idea what I was talking about. Thought I was asking about a new case at first and then that I had lost my mind. And he’s not the only one.” There’s a noise on the other end of the line and Sojiro listens as his friend goes quiet. 

For long seconds she doesn’t even breathe It sets Sojiro’s teeth on edge, being forced to wait and listen to the stillness on the other end of the line. After a moment he hears the soft shush of a tense breath being slowly released after being held for too long. He’s thankful for the sounds, it helps remind him that he can stop holding his breath too.

“They’re all forgetting Amamiya.” She whispers, voice shaky. She was always one of the good ones, steady in the face of every disaster Sojiro had ever seen her face. Whatever is happening, it’s bad. Bad in a way that he has no idea how to face on. “It’s like the kid never existed at all. I even checked records and nothing. There’s nothing showing he ever worked for us. That even existed.”

He sits on that information. Worries at it like a loose tooth. He tells the kids and watches them sink their teeth into the information. It’s a little like watching piranhas devour their meal.

Akechi is still hospital bound. One day in a coma equal to one week in recovery, one doctor tells him and he knows from the determined look in Akechi’s eye that the young man has taken that as a challenge. He spends his days unable to join in the more physical aspects of the chase, but uses all the strength he has to offer up his ideas. His mind is still as sharp as ever, though he does look helplessly young and disoriented at times when he thinks no one is looking.

He still insists he was speaking to Ren before he woke up.

None of them have the heart to tell him outright that they think it’s just wishful thinking. 

A few days after his call with his old coworker, Sojiro calls her back looking for an update on some of the leads she’d found. She’s less tense than before, voice warmer and louder, and he can hear the buzz of the offices around her.

She doesn’t recognize the name Amamiya Ren. 

She only just remembers that she was helping him with something, but her voice drifts and she wanders to other topics of conversation whenever he tries to ask her about it. When he presses her about his son they slip into a loop in which she never quite grasps what he’s talking about. They speak in circles for ten minutes before there’s a pause and she asks him, pleasant and vague, why he’s calling.

He thanks her for her help and hangs up.

[unholyhelbig]

Werewolf Bechloe Prompt: Beca is away for the weekend to visit friends and/or family. One late night, Beca wakes up to a noise outside her window and finds a wolf looking straight at her.

A/N: So… It’s been over a year since I’ve updated this AU. This prompt has been in my inbox for close to two. But since it’s almost spooky season, I figured I’d give it another shot! 

Read the full Series here | Request Prompts here 

“It’s a full moon tonight, isn’t it Beca?” the question was innocent enough, wavered out and drawn between breaths. It took her great grandmother a lot to stir from her placid spot at the head of the table. That was her seat- had been since Beca was a young girl. She didn’t’ know if it had to do with age or if her grandmother would take over the place had she still been alive.

The sound of scraping forks picking up the last of watery gravy seemed to halt at the raspy voice. Her aunt Chrissy stopped tearing a doughy roll in half and her Uncle Roth kept the spoon halfway to the green beans, steaming and stinking. Beca herself stopped mid-chew and glanced at the older woman. Mute and quiet for as long as she could remember.

Her father nudged her shoulder like he was the first one to snap out of the trance. He raised his studious eyebrows and the whole family seemed to wait for an explanation. The potatoes and the roast and that awfully rancid gravy was left untouched in the historic-looking dining room. “Uh, I… I think it is, yes.”  

She nodded her shaking head and dug the prongs of her fork back into the garlic mashed potatoes before the room decided to pick up again. The conversation easy for family catching up after months of exchanging small texts or liking photo’s on Facebook. Beca fell into silence herself, pushing the dry meat around with her fork before zoning out completely.

Beca could stand the normal family interactions after a four-hour drive. She smiled and hugged and laughed when her cousins did. But she kept to herself, silently collecting the dishes as her father wheeled Grandmother May into the living room. She washed said dishes and let her hands grasp blindly through the hot water and bubbles before she ran a sponge over the unfinished meals.

“I haven’t heard her speak in years.”

The youngest of the family startled against the words of her older cousin. Josie was a tall and lanky woman with deep golden hair, a stark difference from the rest of the family with their stocky dispositions and deep midnight eyes. Hers were green, green, and cat-like. The black sheep of the family who still moved to Hollywood to set up lights on big-time movie sets. She and Beca had a lot in common; they spoke like equals.

Josie picked up a dishrag and moved to grab a rinsed plate “Mind if I help?”

“Hm, I was wondering if I was going to have to pick up all the slack myself,” Beca smirked, dunking another dish. “It’s weird though, the question about the full moon.”

Her Great Grandmother was right, however. The moon hung in the sky as if it were balancing from a velvet string. It illuminated the backyard, a little neon square blocked by their shadows cast against the grass. When Beca was younger she was always afraid an unearthed corpse from the cemetery up the road would make misty eye contact with her through the pane. She would cry when she had to do the dishes.

“She’s an old lady, I’m surprised she can follow the day of the week much less the lunar cycle.”

“Right,” Beca chuckled. She shut off the water and snatched a clean towel from the counter before drying her hands of the hot water. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard her voice. Maybe in tapes but it’s kind of unsettling you know? That she chose now, on our billionth family reunion to finally speak. And to me of all people.”

“Maybe you’re the favorite. Or maybe Great Grandma May is a shapeshifter bent on turning the whole family into wolves one by one-“Josie leaned close, her breath smelling of the strawberry candies that were kept on the front table. “Starting with you.”

Beca narrowed her eyes and mulled it over for a moment. “You’re a freak, you know that right?”

“You and me both, Bec’s.”

Beca hated to admit it, But Josie’s words clung to her like a tick on a deer. Not noticeable at first, not while they finished up the dishes and joked sparingly about the way their family would carry on for hours until their eyes grew heavy.

It wasn’t until she was balancing on the edge of a blow-up mattress with her aunt who snored, that she really gave the statement a once over. Her fingers traced absently at the scars against her arms from two months earlier. Still healing and red with irritation.

She stared at the ceiling, listening to the humidifier situated in the corner of the room. She tried to count the flowers that were plastered against the wall sometime in the late seventies. Shapeshifters. Ridiculous.

Beca had started to dose off, her breathing getting slow and her fingers curled into the t-shirt she wore. Eventually, she started to feel her body grow heavy. Her father used to tell her if she pretended to sleep, it wouldn’t be long until she actually drifted into unconsciousness.

Then there was a creak, an old floorboard in the hallway of the old ranch house. Her eyes show open and her heart pressed against the inside of her wrist. The blow-up mattress was starting to deflate and it crunched under her weight as she lifted herself up on her elbow.  

It was an old house, she told herself diligently, old houses made noises that were out of her control. The pipes would groan and the backup generator in the shed still sputtered black smoke even when it was idle- but wait- there it was again.

She blinked slowly and decided to rise to her feet as silently as possible to not disturb the other people in the room. The door hinges hissed and she hit the wrong floorboard that had settled in the first place.

Beca made it to the kitchen and grabbed a mug with a rooster on the side, filling it up with room temperature water. She gulped it down easily, reaching once more for the faucet- when she saw eyes.

Beca had been used to staring at her own reflection I the path of the full moon. It was pale and ghostly against the window-pane. She never looked for too long, never gazed where she wasn’t meant to. Everything that the pale moonlight touched didn’t seem tangible; it wasn’t of this world. The grass looked blue and the sky looked darker against the moon.

But those eyes, those orange eyes that nearly looked crimson, stared unwaveringly at her. Her fingers itched at the scars against her arms. They had mostly healed but they ached now. They burned and she scratched like it was a discomfort instead of an unpleasant memory.

Dogs didn’t scare her, and she wasn’t sure if she would admit it if they did. These eyes looked otherworldly. Another thing that was claimed by the moonlight. Even still, she set the mug down on the counter and leaned forward. She could feel the cold seeping through the glass. The creature blinked.

“I loved one once too.”

Beca felt her heart jump into her throat. If she was still holding the tacky glass it would have shattered against the floor into a million pieces, slicing into the bottoms of her feet. She turned abruptly, her back to the sink and to the wild animal that watched her like a vice.

Her great grandmother had wheeled herself into the kitchen. A blanket was draped over her legs, dragging on the floor. Her hands gripped the wheels and her ghostly grey eyes blinked at the glass patio doors. Beca was frozen in fear and curiosity. May’s stare focused on her in a matter of seconds- the only fast-moving thing about the woman.

“What?” Beca croaked out.

“I met him in the late ’30s.” She continued, ignoring Beca’s protests “he worked in a malt shop down by the coast in Maine. My parents used to vacation there for the month of June and the year I graduated high school was my last going. He was… beautiful.”

Beca nodded, and more than anything, she listened. She had seen pictures of her Grandmother May and her daughter after that. Her own mother was practically a spitting image of them both. She could almost imagine the choppy waves and the cold sand that wasn’t meant to be fully enjoyed.

“I knew from the start that he wasn’t human. His mannerisms, his strength, his possessiveness. There was something deep and wild against him but none of that mattered. I had never fallen in love so hard and so fast in my life.”

She swallowed “How did you know?”

“That I was in love or that he wasn’t like us?”

“Both, I suppose.”

Her Great Grandmother smiled sweetly, her stare returning to the moon-soaked yard. Beca knew the eyes were gone and the creature who gazed upon them had slinked back into the woods at the edge of the property. “He smelled like the forest.” She whispered.

They stood in a stifled quiet for what seemed like a long time before the same floorboards that gave her away in the first place creaked once more. Josie had stirred, seeing that she was missing. She flicked on the hall light and the dull yellow glow made Beca flinch.

“Jesus, what are you two doing out here?” She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand “it’s nearly three am.”

Witching hour- Beca decided with a shrug as Josie grasped onto the padded handles of their grandmother’s wheelchair. May had gone back to her mute staring and her cousin shot her an odd look before speaking softly to the older woman, directing her back towards her room at the end of the hall.

Beca turned back towards the sink, placing the mug in the metal basin. She stared towards the forest, but it was no use, the hall light washed everything away. Even if the creature had returned, she wouldn’t know, and part of her didn’t want to.

[squidpro-quo]

jaskier falls ill while on the road and geralt tends to him? yes please :)

Thank you so much for this prime angsty prompt! I love some good sick!Jaskier, so I hope you enjoy this!

    The silence should have warned him. Jaskier wasn’t one to be quiet, even when they were trudging up the side of a mountain in the cold drizzle of rain leaving a misty haze behind. On any other occasion, he’d have found a way to work on his songs, either humming a few lyrics ad nauseum or plucking a few mismatched notes on his lute in between steps. But at the threat of water damage to his precious instrument, he’d foregone the musical accompaniment in favor of quiet contemplation; or so Geralt had assumed. 

He’d slipped near the bottom, splattered his entire back in mud before he’d clambered to his feet again on Roach’s other side. With not a word as to the state of his clothes or the amount of time it would take him to get the stains out, Geralt had thought the sheen of sweat across his brow was more a symptom of his exhaustion from the day’s climbing than anything more; he’d even been impressed by the lack of any complaint when the grade of the slope turned steeper. 

By the time they caught sight of the cave up ahead, Jaskier’s breath had turned to a ragged wheeze hours ago. Once they reached the entrance, Geralt tethered Roach to a lone survivor of a tree and returned to find Jaskier’s huddled form slumped against the wall, shivering. The half-lidded eyes with their glazed stare finally triggered a realization. 

Having grown up surrounded by witchers and never encountering much openness or tenderness amongst other people in general, Geralt hadn’t had a lot of opportunities to become familiar with what sickness can look like in humans. Or what care is needed to survive it. And so when the impossible first occurred and he was in the extended company of a certain bard, he’d missed the signs. 

Crouching beside him, Geralt saw the flush high on his cheeks even as his body shook with a chill that surpassed the mild, if rainy, night. He got to work on the ties of Jaskier’s doublet, soaked and knotted tight by the wet conditions, finally resorting to slicing through the last few in the name of freeing him from its sodden constraints. 

None of Jaskier’s clothes were really meant for retaining warmth, most if not all of them had the sole purpose of being vivid and elegant, meant for the balls and feasts of queens instead of caves high in the hills. 

“He couldn’t have even one pair of thicker pants, could he, Roach?” Geralt growled, hauling the saddlebags from her back in a haphazard rush to find something that would work. He needed to hurry, to be faster than his worry and the concern rearing its head inside him that Jaskier’s rasping gasps were feeding. 

Grabbing his cloak, old and worn but still dry and big enough to wrap Jaskier thrice around with, Geralt bundled him into it until his trembling subsided just slightly. The mop of brown hair plastered to his forehead and the way he’d curled up as soon as he lay down made Jaskier look young, and defenseless in a way that Geralt didn’t often see in him. Sure, the bard wasn’t the fighter of the pair but he wasn’t one to be cowed by a bared blade or two, more often than not he’d be the reason for it, with insults more colorful than his clothes. 

“What now?” he asked, glancing back at Roach as if she’d have an answer for him. Jaskier would usually be the one to fill the silence, but without him it felt wrong to leave the quiet unbroken, as if that heavy stillness would stifle him while he battled the tremors that wracked his body. 

After starting a fire and setting their dinner to cook, Geralt couldn’t stop trying to pull the folds of his cloak tighter with Jaskier’s every move, a need to do something, anything, gnawing at his bones. He dragged Jaskier’s pack closer and dug inside in search of an answer to his question. Charcoal, sheaves of notes and bundles of strings littered the bag, along with old dried flowers and a few pebbles he must have had some reason for carrying even if Geralt couldn’t understand why. There was even a scrap of frayed leather near the bottom that he would’ve sworn was a piece of the strip he used to tie his hair back.

“There’s buttercups and beetle casings in here, but no fucking medicine.” Geralt swore under his breath with every empty passing second, the wheezing at his back serving as a tortuorous measure of how much time he was letting slip by with no solution. 

“Pocket… Side,” the bare whisper was accompanied by a weak tug on his shirt as Jaskier shifted an inch closer to the fire. 

“At least you’re talking, that means you can’t be dying.”

“Who says… I can’t do both at once?” Jaskier nodded his head, ruffling the tuft of hair at his ear that had poked out over the edge of Geralt’s cloak and tempting him to tuck it back underneath. The bottle in Geralt’s hand was fogged up with a label that had peeled off partly to leave only ‘erwort’ written in scraggly handwriting. 

“Witness the marvelous… talking dead.”

“You’re not there yet, bard,” shoving a pinch or so into the pot of water he’d collected from the rain outside, Geralt took the small victory of the sight of a fragile grin stretching Jaskier’s lips, “Don’t compose a dirge before they even find the body.”

“Those aren’t… my style.” Lapsing into silence again, Jaskier stared at the curling flames for the slow minutes it took for the water to grow hot. In between stoking the fire, Geralt kept his eye on the slow rise and fall of his chest, counting the seconds and cursing his oversights. He could tell a drowned dead from a common drowner just by the squelch of its footsteps and yet he failed to catch the signs of what was happening right next to him. 

After pouring a cup full of the concoction, he propped Jaskier up with a careful arm under him, nigh cradling his head across his lap from the need to keep him steady. 

“Heard you talking to Roach... Miss me?” Watery blue eyes met his, the glee glimmering there even amidst the glassiness from the fever. 

“Haven’t had a chance to catch up with her in a while.” Geralt pushed the rim of the cup to Jaskier’s mouth. “Drink.” 

I see… how it is,” Jaskier muttered between sips when Geralt refilled the cup. “Playing… favorites.”

“Jaskier, are you jealous of a horse?” The relief that flooded through him at the scrape of a laugh from Jaskier’s throat had Geralt’s heart lighter than a bird. 

“No… That’s not fair… to Roach. Ugh, I forgot how… distasteful that stuff is.” 

His eyes slipped closed, body relaxing into Geralt’s hold though he was still hot to the touch. Finding himself loathe to disturb Jaskier’s fitful sleep, he stayed still, stiffly so at first and finally bracing his back against the cave’s wall with a last look at Roach as his hands stayed resting on the folds of his cloak and the warm body inside. 

“Had you worried, right, Roach?” He frowned at the mist outside, mind set on the next time and what he’d do when the silence came. 

    prompts open

[fourletterworld]

Getting Lost - Was a Big Brother

Cody, Myself, and four of our best friends hiked the fantasy trail of Big Sur, some 7 miles up into the sky. As night approached, we tucked down off the trail into a small camping area and safely lit a fire near a stream. Here we pumped drinking water into our bottles through a filter. I remember feeling so physically tired, it was the only feeling in me. We made dinner in flame light then made our tents in spotty shadows. It was cold, and we'd fallen asleep quickly.

  The next day was crisp and beautiful. We'd made breakfast, coffee and tea and talked a while before heading out to walk off the path into the wilderness. We jumped across the creek where boulders stood out of the shallow depth. After the six of us got across my friend Bob passed out micro doses of mushrooms from a cloudy plastic bag. We chewed them up and continued walking into the trees along the creek. Nothing of note crept into my head, but I have a snapshot of looking back at my friends through the trees and seeing sunlight spill through the canopy onto the green forest floor. There was an Irish glow among the rich tree bark and moss.

  Someone mentioned that it looked like we were in an old Skittles commercial. Slow unconscious laughs built as we smiled half-lucidly at one another.   The effect began to slow some of us down until we stopped at a clearing and briefly sat. Cody and two others decided to keep hiking while I stayed with the other half.

We talked for a while and observed everything within eyeshot. I felt the stillness of a tree growing through my head. The misty sounds of nature began to strike out with colors of awareness. Suddenly I was conscious of the bird calls, and not in the ordinary way when their beauty serves as the backdrop to one of my moods. Instead, I heard their sounds as though they were strangers with first names I didn't know. They were communicating primal information with the worry of survival in their tone. They weren't having a pleasant day in the wild, they were locked in the grind of their reality. I felt sad for their consistent stress. The concern to live up to nature's expectations is so much to put on a creature. It wasn't their fault.

The plants around me gently moved in a soft breeze. Their limbs reached up to the skylight like a baby wanting its mother. They were as alive as starfish, having fixed themselves to the trunks of larger somber giants. The distant sun sat and burned like a far away look. A look that only time will snap someone out of. This sad poem is why we fall in love, I thought. It all hurts with the innocent anticipation of a loose tooth not ready to come out.

After a time of being unusually quiet in the presence of others, I crept away by myself down to the trickling stream we'd been following. In some sort of dreamy trance, I gently touched my face as I looked down into the water. There was a troubled curiosity in my tremendously large pupils. It was the little kid unwound inside of me; the one I'd twisted hard into a man.  Currents pulled at my reflection like smeared paint clinging to an image. Shards of light formed on the folds of water like cuts.  

The tired old question walked through my thoughts: "who am I?" This time, it didn't feel like the ethereal philosophical question. It was more like I was trying to make sense of the thing I saw reflecting in the water: The dark pool-eyed organic machine, the adult and the teen, the arrested development, the ill-defined aged of an angst ridden masculine spirit.

I've applied stereotypes to myself my whole life: being a punk rocker, a musician, an artist, a romantic, a good person, a drinker, and all sorts of things that maybe I'm not. They're all just lines of rope I've thrown out which I follow after to see where they might lead me. Being a big brother was something more than that. It was beyond me and rooted in the physical world. It was an anchor that'd dropped down as soon as Cody was born.

  These thoughts swam through that river until concern began to gather and pulled me back into the moment. I'd begun to feel some kind of tension pulling at the line between Cody and I. He had hiked away and was possibly too far from me, and I started to wonder if he was okay.

  "Hey guys! How long have they been gone?!" I shouted up the small ravine. "They're fine D." my friend Dave called, probably anticipating some psilocybin anxiousness. His assumption that I was paranoid was warranted, but I felt rational in my fear and knew it couldn't be articulated under scrutiny. I walked a short way in the direction the others continued hiking and looked. I didn't see anyone so I began calling Cody's name with my loud voice into the wilderness. I heard the emptiness of the hills as my voice faded through them, and a terrorizing feeling of finality landed. The fear was rooted in the possibility of never getting him back.

  What if they'd eaten more mushrooms than I had and got confused and lost? I was worried for all of them, but I was responsible for my brother. The anchor was somewhere beneath dark water and I didn't know if the rope had been torn. I began making all sorts of promises to some God that I never kept. I started to feel the knot in my throat.

  There was darkness growing in the mountains. Tall pine shadows loomed and collected over the retreating fragments of sunlight. The pleated hills began to look treacherously prosaic, as if no new word would ever come out of its ravine. It would never unearth my little brother or anything else ever again.   I called again, deep and loud, and like a miracle transmission I heard Cody faintly calling back just as loudly from somewhere off in the trees. His voice, when he yelled, sounded just like mine.

"Oh, fucking Christ, thank god", I sighed.

Moments later he'd walked through the trees. Bleach blonde hair and emerald rimmed owl eyes, smiling at the corners. Cody came to me for an instinctive hug. "I'm sorry Dust" he'd said.  He could hear the fear in my voice even at its highest threshold of volume.  

"Don't be sorry, don't be sorry," I replied as I hugged him tightly. Later, shrouded in twilight, I sat next to him at the fire. I tried to express how tangibly worried I was for him. I’d felt him extracted from my life in that moment, and how terrified that made me.

  I'd gone on longer, exhausting my point.  The mushrooms hadn't completely waned and the panic continued to play, but the cause for fear was so present it was like I had suddenly felt through the material of time. I’d somehow grasped the shape of that fucked up day that waited for me years ahead. I had no way of aligning that sort of rationale at the time, but in hindsight it’s the best way to explain the reality of that scare. It never felt like it was in my head.

  Cody listened, patient and contemplative with a lit cigarette. At some point he interjected, "Yeah, but Dust, I'm fine. Everything's okay. Everything was always okay the whole time. You were just worried over nothing".

He said this smiling, as though to model what emotion we should had both been feeling in that moment. He then leaned in and wrapped his arms around my shoulders and I took his two clasping hands with mine and closed my eyes. He saw the concern but not my fear, but I knew I had to concede in expressing my worry for him. I'd always have to learn when it was okay to get my point across and when to let life be life. I had to let go of control.

  I've always had problems with control because it eludes me. My life has always been out of my control. Not really caring to embrace my strengths and desiring my weaknesses has put huge cracks throughout my being. My self-hood is like broken up continents, and my goal is to form it all back into Pangea. I move something to the center and something else floats away. It's like I don't have room for the whole being I want to be. I fall in love, I become dependent. I find peace, I become boring. I get inspired, I become manic. I have fun, I lose my way.

  And I don't want balance. I see balance like a constant sacrifice. I want the choice to be all in, on one side or another, the good and the bad all at one time. I want the full glass now and no glass later.

  That is, I had my mind made up in this way until Cody passed. Once I lost him, these fragmented continents weren't just staid floating islands. Gravity suddenly shut off, and they lifted from their watery globe and suspended in disorientation. I'd seen all parts of myself lift from the anchor of my brother and carry out above me and into the atmosphere. Now there is no center to draw things back into, and there are some pieces leaving my weak gravitational field forever. I lay in bed afraid of this new upheaval, not knowing my feelings anymore, and watching them continue to go and go and go.

  They've been ripping away from me so consistently and slowly over this last 16 months that the pain has become ambience. My spirit has been tuned to the lowest universal frequency of heartbreak. The longest waves of sadness.

  But I keep it together. All of life is too short to let anyone else get tangled in this chaotic orbit of mine, and I think I've become just strong enough to keep it in during the day. Meanwhile this slow-moving shrapnel drifts along, finely opening new aspects of a heart I'd never known. There are things that feel possible in ways that surprise and sometimes shock me. There are days now where I get out of the shower and rub away the fog on the mirror and remember looking into the water. Now it isn't a question of who I am, but who am I becoming, and will any of this ever land again? Did the universe set my heart so it can heal in alignment or is my true nature lost in some ethereal flux?  

There's an animal body looking at me and the human has been knocked into a daze. The eyes in the coal mine sockets remind me of those prosaic hills, with the person behind the wheel having retreated inward to crippled shadowy memories. They don’t hold anything to the same beautiful standard any longer. It’s all become possible with nothing inside of myself to protect anymore. The gate has been left wide open and as I stare at my eyes I wonder if I'll ever really come back again.

[exhaustedfander]

First Comes Love: Chapter 12

Oh boy, we’re getting into the final stretch of this story! Only one more chapter after this! I’d love to hear what you think.

a03 link

1  / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / ?

Word Count: 2,496

“What if he doesn’t show up?”

“Remus, you and I both know that’s preposterous. You two proposed to each other on the same day, for crying out loud! He’s crazy about him and you’re crazy about him. Or maybe just crazy, in general, I can never tell.” 

Remus delivered a well-deserved shove, earning an overdramatic gasp.

“Okay, but what if – what if he’s woken up and decided he doesn’t want to go through with it? What if clarity struck him that he doesn’t want this? Jesus, Roman, what if he stands me up at the alter?!”

“Easy, there, brother dear. You’re sounding a lot like Panic! At the Everywhere,” he said, placing a hand on the small of his brother’s back. Remus stared at his reflection in the mirror, cringing at the unsteadiness of his stance.

“I can’t tell if comparing me to your boyfriend is an insult or a compliment.”

“I’m saying, there’s nothing to be worried about,” Roman said as soothingly as he could manage. “You and Logan are simply meant to be,” – he sang that bit, eliciting a groan -, “To so much as think that our resident nerd would stand you up at the alter is prosperous and you know it.”

“But what if –.”

“No more ‘what ifs’, thank you very much,” Roman interrupted, “Remus, Logan is deeply, and madly in love with you. You could walk out there wearing nothing but a filthy potato sack and he’d still think you were the most beautiful thing to walk the Earth. Luckily, for a trash man, you clean up pretty nice.”

Remus stared intently at his reflection. The suit he wore was a dark forest green, the shirt beneath an only slightly more unsettling lime, the black and green tie (good lord, it was a lot of green, not that Roman was surprised) a nice striped pattern. Remus’s usually unruly hair was neatly combed, and he looked quite a bit more presentable than usual.

“You think so?” Roman couldn’t help but be stricken with a pang of surprise. Normally, Remus didn’t give two shits what anyone, save for Logan, thought about him, or his appearance for that matter. But now, in a moment of unjustified, but understandable, panic, he was genuinely asking.

“Of course I do,” Roman said, taking his hand off of his twin’s back, “You look wonderful, Remus. And – we’re twins, so I’d be a little concerned if you looked that much worse than me.”

“Everyone knows I’m the better looking one,” Remus said, a hint of a smile appearing on his face. Roman barked out a laugh.

“We’re identical!”

“And yet my point still stands.” Roman huffed out a breath.

“I’m supposed to be the cocky one, I’m supposed to be the romantic one, stop stealing my bits!”

“And yet you’re still not engaged. Before we know it, your dear emo nightmare will have been swept up by another, far better man.” The smile that stretched across Roman’s face is sure to spell trouble. “Okay, why are you looking at me like that? Did you guys get engaged and not tell me? Because if so, fuck you.” Roman stuck a hand in his pocket, fishing out a ring box.

“Is that so?” Roman asked, popping the box open and showing his brother the amethyst ring inside.

“Son of a bitch, you’ve finally decided to stop being such a little pussy, huh?” This time Remus was the one who received the shove.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll propose to him in the middle of your wedding.” Remus narrowed his eyes.

“I would kill you where you stood.”

“You’re all talk, brother dear.”

“Oh yeah?” Remus asked, uncapping the green nail polish he’d applied to his finger and waving the brush near Roman. “Keep talking like that and the suit gets it!” Roman pressed a hand to his chest, glaring at his twin.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Remus glared right back.

“Try me, bitch.” Roman scoffed, holding his hands in the air, backing away from Remus who was still dangerously wielding the polish.

“Okay, okay, I surrender!” Roman said, hands guarding the front of his ruby red suit, “I’m not actually going to propose to Virgil at your wedding, for God’s sake.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“You wound me!” Roman squawked before he caught sight of the look in his twin’s eyes. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. This is one of the best days of your life! You get to promise your undying love for one of my best friends, which can admittedly still be kind of weird to think about, but it’s great! You guys are great. A power-couple, as far as I’m concerned.” Remus’s lips curled into a faint grin.

“Yeah… we are pretty great, huh? I didn’t… I never thought I was the kind of person to get married. I was sure it was the bachelor’s life for me, y’ know? I figured I was always gonna end up alone.” Roman placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, compassion glimmering in his eyes.

“But you haven’t,” Roman reminded, “You aren’t alone anymore, Remus. You have Logan, and me, and our friends. You’ll never have to be alone again. You –,” Roman paused his speech, seeing tears beginning to haze Remus’s vision, “Oh no you don’t! I just did your makeup, and I refuse to have it ruined before the ceremony has started. Don’t you dare get all soft on me.” Remus sniffed.

“I – I can’t help it. Before, I was all angsty thinking I was some kind of fucking lone-wolf or something, and then I met Logan. And – and you were back in my life, and I had friends, and – everything’s so different, Ro. It’s a g-good different, but still… still weird, sometimes.”

“And you can cry about it later!” Roman insisted, earning a watery chuckle from Remus. “Stop it or you’ll get me starting too, and you’ll be late for your own damn wedding.”

Remus and Logan had only been engaged for five months, yet the wait had been grueling. Honestly, when they woke up the morning after their engagement, there was a moment where they, briefly, considered a Courthouse Wedding.

“We could be married tomorrow,” Remus had said, “Wouldn’t that be fucking awesome?”

“It would be nice to call you my husband as soon as possible,” Logan had said, despising the fact that he was actually considering it.

“Oooh! We could get married in Vegas! Drive down, get hitched, and get rich!” Logan had rolled his eyes, though the gesture was full of nothing but fondness.

“That’s a terrible idea and you know it. Also, you're a terrible gambler."

“C’mon, Dragonfly, live a little!”

“We’re not getting married in Los Vegas.”

“Ugh, fiiiiine. But you’re no fun!” Logan had chuckled at that, pressing a kiss to Remus’s lips.

“So I’ve been told.”

In the end, the couple decided that a proper wedding was what they wanted, even if it meant they’d have to wait a little bit longer to officially call themselves husbands. They wanted their friends to be a part of the celebration, and while they were by no means looking for opulence, a fairly nice venue was on their wish-list.

The one they’d found was outdoor, near a gorgeous lake with sprawling greenery and they couldn’t be happier with it. In all honesty, Remus would be content with marrying Logan in a rat-infested dumpster so long as he promised to be his, but that wouldn’t exactly be ideal.

But now, here he was, about to tie the knot in a beautiful location, about to promise forever to the love of his life. Remus figured he was allowed to freak out, at least a little bit.

“It’s just about time to go,” Roman said after Remus had a few more minutes to collect himself, “Are you ready?” Remus took a steadying breath, giving his reflection a final once-over before nodding, his head bouncing up and down a touch too erratically.

“Yeah… yeah, okay, I’m ready.”

If someone had told Remus a few years ago that his brother would walk him down this aisle at his wedding, he would’ve called them crazy. But now, stepping out into the picturesque spring day, his arm looped with Roman’s, he couldn’t be any more grateful.

The music swelled as the twins walked down the aisle. Remus’s eyes grazed over the guests, his wonderful friends looking back at him with so much love. And then, his eyes met Logan’s, and his heart stopped.

Logan wore a Navy-blue suite, his tie a pink and aqua floral pattern. Logan was often so insistent on the fact that his wardrobe, especially as a teacher, was to make him look as professional as possible (aside from the Unicorn onesie, but that was rarely spoken about), so he usually forwent wearing fun patterns. Seeing him now, though, Remus would have to make a point to mention how amazing he looked in it. How amazing he looked in general.

“Hey,” Remus said quietly, once the chatter of the guests had died down and the minister began speaking. Logan gave him a look that absolutely melted his heart into a gooey, sticky mess (Remus wondered what it would look like if a human heart really did melt. It would be fantastically gorey!) and muttered his own greeting. It took absolutely every ounce of Remus’s self-control not to grab Logan by the lapels and kiss him with every intense, sappy emotion that roared inside of him.

“We are gathered here today to witness the union of Remus Knightly and Logan Sanders,” the minister announced, but immediately, Remus felt like his ears were plugged up with cotton. All he could focus on was Logan, stunning, incredibly, way too hot for his own good, Logan. The sun shone down on them, bathing his fiancé in a light he dared to call heavenly as if all that touched Logan was divine. Remus certainly thought so. So much as looking at him was prompting tears, but it seemed Logan wasn’t in much better shape, his eyes becoming misty behind his glasses.

Remus was only able to snap out of once Logan began to deliver his vows, desperately wanting once again to kiss him breathless.

“Remus, I’ve told you innumerable times how much I struggle to comprehend my emotions,” Logan began, his voice already beginning to waver, “for so long, I considered feelings the bane of my existence. It didn’t make any sense to me, and it all felt so complicated and strange. Today, not much of that has changed. I still struggle greatly with comprehending my emotions. But that doesn’t distract from the fact that I am madly, frantically in love with you.

“Before you, I never imagined what it would be like to wake up beside someone and feel… such unabashed joy. You make me laugh, utilizing a sense of humor I never thought I would indulge in. You make me feel so good about myself, just by being yourself,” Logan said, tears beginning to slip down his cheeks, though Remus wasn’t too far behind him, “You’ve taught me so much, my love, and you’ll never know the extent of how much you mean to me.

“I cannot imagine anything better than calling you, my husband. Domesticity is not something I considered for myself but now – now I crave it. I want to wake up beside you every day of my life. I want to watch documentaries together and cuddle on the couch, I want you to read me your books in every voilent detail, I want to kiss you for as long as I’m able. I love you, Remus Demetri Nightly, with every bit of my being, and to be yours is something I know is one of the best things to happen to me.”

“F-fuck, Dragonfly, how the hell am I gonna get through this after that?” Remus asked through a watery laugh. Thirty minutes ago, Remus was terrified of the eyes that would be on him, and the prospect of Logan deciding he didn’t want this after all but standing before him, such fears dissipated.

“You’re perfect,” Remus said, taking one of Logan’s hands in his own, “You’re absolutely perfect, and I’m never going to stop saying it. You’re the smartest, most beautiful, incredible person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and sometimes, I still can’t believe you fell for me. I hadn’t been happy for so long before I knew that, and y-you brought me so much joy, the moment you were in my life.

You’ve brought me love, a feeling I d-didn’t know I was capable of truly feeling. You brought my brother back to me,” Roman was sobbing somewhere in the crowd, his fingers laced tightly with Virgil’s, “You’ve brought light into my life. I didn’t know if I’d ever be hopeful again b-but I am! I’m hopeful for the life we’ll lead, f-for the things we’ll do. I’m hopeful for anything, as long as I’m with you. I love you Logan Sanders, and I’ll tell you every chance I get for as long as I can. I’ll do everything I can to give you the world, because you deserve it, e-every bit of it.”

Tears rolled down both of their faces, their smiles unbreakable. There was an exchange of rings, slipped onto their fingers, and glimmering in the sunlight.

“Do you, Logan Sanders, take Remus Sanders to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” Logan nodded; his teary eyes trained on Remus.

“I do.”

“Do you, Remus Knightly, take –.”

“Yes, of course, I fucking do!” Remus interrupted, earning a laugh from several of the guests. The officiant sighed, rolling with it.

“By the power vested in me, I pronounce you Husband and Husband. You may kiss the groom.”

Remus surged forward, his hands gripping Logan’s tie and pulling him into a deep kiss, the cheering of the guests ringing in their ears.

Later, there would be tearful speeches and endless hugs. Roman would give a sappily embarrassing best man's speech (And not propose to his boyfriend at Remus’s wedding, thank god. He’d wait another day to do that) that made Remus’s fondness and annoyance of his brother swell in tandem. Later, Remus would shove cake with green and blue icing in Logan’s face, only to earn the same fate. Later, they’d share their first dance under the moonlight, hoping for a lifetime of shotty footwork and stifled laughter. Impressively, Remus only stepped on Logan’s feet twice. Later, they’d do so much more, accomplish all that they wanted.

Now, though, they embraced, holding each other as though they’d disappear the moment they let go.

“I love you, Logan Knightly-Sanders,” Remus whispered in his ear, kissing him ardently.

“And I love you, Remus Knightly-Sanders,” Logan responded, intent on never stopping kissing if he could help it.

=+=

Taglist:

@nadiestar 

@unoriginalgayboyalex 

@maryann-draws

Please, let me know if you’d like to added to my general taglist! I’d be happy to add folks! 

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Heroes (The Eighties Blasts Collection, Part 8.)

Description: Jim Hopper died as a hero. But with that, one certain problem rises up - who will now lead the cops of Hawkins? Hopper thought of that - he decided to write a letter, naming his niece, nineteen-year-old student of Indianapolis police academy, Y/N Hopper as a sheriff deputy in a letter. But anybody in the town doesn’t have a clue that being a cop in Hawkins is way more dangerous than it might seem.

A/N: This chapter is heavily influenced by the “Finding the fake Will body” song, Heroes by Peter Gabriel. But if you like David Bowie more, go ahead. A spoiler, the chapter won't have the same impact then.

Warnings: Giving us some fake hope, sorta? Oh, I hope that it is all real, Duffers. Also, Steve and the reader being chaotical duo at their best.

Word Count: 2.9 K

Tagging: @charmed-asylum​ @nemodoren​

Master list: The Eighties Blast Collection

You were pretty sure that the monster is about to bite your fucking head off. That it will just chop it off your body. Naturally, you closed your eyes from fear and turned your head to your shoulder while you tried to wiggle out of its grip. But unfortunately, nothing helped you. 

You waited for the pain in another second, but it didn't do anything to you. You just suddenly felt ice-cold, your skin turned into stone with goosebumps. You could feel its limb, sticky and cold, on your forearm and so you slowly opened your eyes up to take a look around.

Your heart's rate dropped to zero for a moment. You were knee-deep in snow in a dark place, you saw some tall firs next to you and under a long hill, there was some sort of a military camp lightened up only by a few huge lights and red light flashing, going nuts crazy. You were completely clueless about everything that was happening.

Wherever this place was, it wasn't Hawkins, nor Indiana - but you didn't know what the fuck that place could be then.

Instead of the Demogorgon - you somehow expected that it's the Demogorgon, the creature which gripped on your forearm - there was a weird, misty ball next to you, just floating in the air, letting ascend something that could be hardly described as a limb to tighten around your forearm. 

Before you could do anything, you screamed as it pushed you from a long hill, dragging you through the walls of the soldier camp, lower and lower, below the snow, the ground and even through the surface of the earth.

But there were some rooms underground, just as there were halls and prison cells. You only saw flashes of some strange technology, of torture chambers and offices; not even that gave you a clue about what is happening. 

Suddenly, that thing stopped the both of you, making you stand in one of the long halls leading to prison cells. You looked at the dark cloud, but again, it remained silent. Could it even speak or communicate? You didn't know. But you, for some reason, wished it could. The whole place felt cold and lifeless like there weren't living actual human beings. The walls were grey and in some places, hoarfrost was climbing all around doors and lattices.

Even though it could tell you anything, you could feel that t wanted to show you something. It was making you look at two soldiers opening up a solid metal door to drag someone out of it. 

The figure of a terrified human being was leaning into the corner of their cell, shaking and mumbling something. But you could tell that it is a man. He had long, greasy hair and a pretty long beard, but there was a resemblance to someone you know.

You just couldn't put your finger on who it might be. The soldiers, you could hear only mumbling and not the actual words, took the man and gave him a few punches before shoving their palms under his armpits to make him stand up. And only a single fragment of a second made you gasp, tremble and sobbing. The man looked at you like he could see you and his mouth opened up in a shock.

You could only catch a glimpse of those blue eyes before that thing took you further into the facility. You could see just fragments of it, but the place was huge and complicated. You stopped somewhere really deep under the ground, looking at a huge tear in the wall, slightly lighting up with a red light. Chills came down from your spine to your lower back as you tried to catch your breath at least for a while. 

You jumped from the spot you were standing because some huge machine was activated and it shot a huge beam of blue light into the tear. The sound it made had crawled into your ears and under your skin, it was terrifying. But the tear had slowly opened up as you saw three men clothed up in a latex suit from their head to their toes with guns coming to it. Your head was in a pain after just a moment of hearing that sound.

Your brain connected two dots pretty easily. There it was, in all its beauty - an opened up entrance to... Somewhere. The back door has been opened just in front of your eyes and it took only moments before you saw those ugly fucks crawling out of it. It was similar to the creature you and Steve found on the attic, but there was... Dozens of them. Probably even more, just crawling on all fours, growling, and hissing. The men in the latex suits were directing their path with their guns, making them crawl into a huge metal door on your right side.

There was too much for you to take in, so you burst into loud crying. You were scared out of your damn mind, watching the whole thing happening just in front of your own eyes. Nobody would believe you - just as you didn't believe Steve nor Nancy.

First, you were in a completely strange place, then there was some guy, then a whole bunch of Demogorgons, what will come next? 

You covered up your mouth and let the tears slip down your cheeks. That view was one of the scariest you've ever seen in your whole life. You were terrified.

After that, you felt at your body fell onto the ground and you heard Steve yelling at the thing, shooting at it with the revolver. Your forearm was free from the thing’s gasp, you laid on the ground like a crying mess. You couldn't even stand up by yourself.

It was like a slow-motion shot as you watched the thing flee after Steve shot it into its shoulder. You laid on the ground of the attic, in the mossy-feeling blood, unable to even stand up, shaking with waves of crying coming over your whole body. Steve kneeled next to you, holding your shoulder, yelling something at you chaotically, but you just watched his face with opened mouth and watery eyes.

"Are you okay?" - Steve shook your shoulder harshly, yelling into your ear, making you fall flat on your back as you continued crying. Slowly, he rolled the sleeve upon the place where that thing touched you; there was a huge violet bruise on your forearm and there was also a small amount of blood dripping out of your right nose hole.

Your colleagues came into that house with an ambulance not even five minutes apart from that moment - you sat there in shock under a red blanket, pale, trembling with your eyes wide open; both blood and tears were still streaming down your face, trapped in your own mind, playing the scene you saw over and over again.

"I... Volunteered to accompany her if something goes downhill. Look at her, officer. She can't even talk." - Steve yelled at Anderson, pointing his palm in your direction. He was worried about you; you haven't spoken a whole word since the Demogorgon held your forearm so tightly.

"Still, in your case, it is illegal trespassing into someone's property." - Anderson answered coldly.

"There's is a... A... A rotten corpse of an old lady up there! In the attic! And a psycho almost knocked Hopper out. What else should I do? Sit here in the car, gazing on the nice, bright sun and wondering about how beautiful weather it is today!? I saved her life!" - Steve yelled.

Steve Harrington was a lot of things - not the smartest, not the one winning the one-to-one fights, a jackass at times, but he surely wasn't dumb. It would've been painfully dumb to tell the policemen about the Demogorgon. Those who didn't see the monster with their own eyes, those who haven't encountered it and had all five together wouldn't believe Steve a single word. Just like you.

"We have found some blood in the backyard, you said you shot the attacker into their shoulder." - Anderson eyed Steve up and down.

"It was in self-defense, I told you!" - Steve yelled back.

"He's... He's right, Anderson." - Your broken, silent voice could be heard as you approached them, barely standing on your feet. Steve's hand was there to carefully support you - "If there wasn't for Steve, I would be dead, most likely. He's telling the truth."

Do NOT trust them. Those were the words going in a loop inside your head. You couldn't tell Anderson a story about a fucking monster gripping on your forearm.

Steve looked at your face with acknowledgment. You were in this together, no matter what happened. You were lying to protect him and he was lying to keep the others think that you're sane.

"Do you want to take a day off then, to shake the shock off?" - Anderson put his small notebook to the pocket on his chest, hugging his hips with his palms. Your palms pulled the blanket tighter around your body as you nodded. - "Can I ask you, mister Harrington, can you take miss Hopper home? Call me when she gets there." - Anderson gave Steve a small piece of paper with the number to the department's office. Steve nodded, turning with you by your side.

"Do you still have the revolver?" - You mumbled to him without looking back to your colleagues as you walked to the old Chevy, still covered in the red blanket. Steve patted his side, where the fused gun was hung below the belt of his jeans.

When you were leaving the house, which Anderson turned into a TV crime scene, you only silently watched the car of some news presenter stopping at that old lady's place.

"Go to Dustin's." - You mumbled, leaning for your revolver, touching Steve's belly skin as you stuck your palm there just like that. You didn't even fucking care. You opened up the stack to count the rounds you had left. There were still three bullets that could be fired.

"What?!" - Steve cried out unbelievably. You furrowed your brows at him. You weren't in the mood to joke around with Steve at all.

"Because I said so, dingus!" - You yelled back.

"I am supposed to take you home and call that policeman when I do so because you don't feel well! No hanging out at Dustin's!" - Steve stopped the car on the right side of the road, leaving the motor running, looking you in the eyes. You watched each other as if the other one was a total idiot.

"May I remind you, Harrington, that I have a gun which is ready to fire at you at any moment and that another Demogorgon is running around Hawkins and that this Demogorgon can IMITATE actual people? We need to tell the others! So go to Dustin's or I'll fucking shoot you!" - You huffed out angrily.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Hopper! Okay, okay! I'll take you to Dustin's, okay! Just put the fucking gun down! You're fucking scary!" - Steve put his hands above his head, looking at you with a frown, slowly turning back on the street so he could take you to Mrs. Henderson's house.

Steve truly took you to Dustin's, but there was one problem you didn't count with - Dustin wasn't at home. He went to visit Mike because of the Cerebro. So there were you, a girl with a bloody nose with a shock blanket around her shoulder, who was apparently a cop and Steve Harrington himself standing in front of Mrs. Henderson's door.

"But come on in, both of you, you must be freezing." - The lady smiled at you and practically made you step in. Their house was really nice and modern, as you could see. She made you both a cup of coffee and gave you a cake before she turned for the last time at you.

"Dustin will be back in an hour, Steve. You have your favorite chocolate in the fridge." - She smiled at him before leaving for her favorite TV show. She let you sleep on their bed in the guest room and lend you another blanket except for your shock blanket. Steve also helped you clean your face with a piece of wet cloth before calling Anderson that you're "at home". 

To your own surprise, you truly fell asleep.

But the dreams were truly bad. It was the place the Demogorgon showed you - again, again and again. Those eyes, that man. Without you knowing, your mind was concentrating on him. He was tall and he seemed to be large before, but at the moment he was slim. He also was greasy and... How could you know him? But those eyes, those eyes were reminding you of...

The pillow under your head started to get wet. You were crying - and Steve was naturally concerned, because he was sitting next to your bed, looking on the cover of some book.

"Steve?" - Dustin opened the door to the room, looking at both of you in complete silence. What were HARRINGTON and HOPPER doing at their guest's room? But before Dustin could ask, you woke up with a muttered scream. You sat up with your cheeks all red, smoothing your face to wake up yourself, even if you did feel like falling asleep again. Your nose was also bleeding again.

"What's happening?" - Dustin whisper-shouted at the both of you.

"Phone. I need a phone and I need to call El. Right now." - You panicked and got up quickly; maybe too quickly, because of your head span and you fell down on Steve, holding his shoulders.

"WHY?" - Dustin screamed at both of you. Steve looked into your eyes while your lips just mumbled I need to talk to Eleven right now, please, Steve, please, let me talk to her and you sobbed loudly. It was hard to even make up what you were saying. Steve looked at Dustin and nodded.

"I'll explain to you everything later, buddy. Just let Hopper call to El. Something wild is happening." - Steve explained quickly.

"We should go to Cerebro then. Today's Mike's turn, but when you two will explain yourself..." - Dustin promised quietly. Steve stood up, supporting you, looking you in the face with a serious question. First, you pulled the blanket closer and then you nodded.

"To my Chevy." - And off you were every one of you. You fell asleep during the ride again, covered in the shock blanket - you were tired as hell, but the dreams, more like visions, were repeating again and again. The man, the Gate, the Demogorgons. And you knew that you were so close to understanding everything, yet it was so far was that you couldn't believe it. Steve woke you up at the Cerebro again, helping you on your feet, supporting you for the few steps to a genius masterwork radio which was apparently Dustin's work.

"Move, dingus." - Steve growled at Mike Wheeler who was kneeling in the grass. He looked at Steve with a grossed-out look, he almost started talking back to him, but when you dropped on your knees, he was more scared than grossed out. You looked like a hot pile of a mess if you asked Mike. - "Give Hopper the radio, now!" - Dustin ordered Mike. He obviously didn't want to, but Dustin just took it out of his hand, basically tore out of Mike’s grip, testing it out.

"Dustin here. Do you copy?" - He asked. Mike wanted to start a round of protests, but Steve, with his hands on his lips, just gave him a look that told Mike everything without words and a shook of his head. All that Mike needed to be was to shut up.

"Eleven. I copy. What's happening?" - A young girl's voice answered with a big question in her voice. Everyone was questioning what was happening because you hadn't told much except that you need to talk to Eleven. Dustin showed you a finger to tell you that you should wait only for a little moment.

"Thank God. I think we have a code red here. I will give Hopper the radio now, okay?" - Dustin nodded at you, circling his warm palm around your shoulder, and placed the radio to your shaking hand in a way that he was sure that you won't drop it. Your fingers were cold and trembling, but you were able to press the buttons somehow.

"Hopper here. Are you listening?" - Every boy around you watched your face intensely. You were crying again, ready to throw up.

When Eleven said a short yes, it gave you the last drop of energy you needed to continue. - "I think... I think that Jim is alive. I think that Hopper is alive, El." - And after that, you started to cry even louder and the blood started dripping from your nose again, falling onto the khaki cloth of Jim’s old shirt.

[wyrmeleon]

A Second Chance at Starlight (Revised)

A bittersweet story about a resurrected corpse trying to come to terms with who he was in his past and why the world is so much more lifeless than he remembers, with heavy environmentalist themes.

“Society had changed since his past life. It was bright where it had been soothing, pulsing where it had been still, sharp where it had been soft. It was bigger but had less meaning. “

   The first thing the corpse was aware of was a bright light that seared his retinas, immediately making him want to retreat to the soothing darkness he’d been thrust from. Instinctively, he tried to wrinkle his brow, but he found that his face was nothing but dead muscle. He had no sensation at all. That was the most unbearable pain, the feeling of paralysis. The more he concentrated, the more unbearable it became. There was a disconnect between his consciousness and the distant sensation of his own body. Was he alive? He wasn’t sure, and that frightened him. He must be, he decided, considering he was thinking that at all. He knew he was a human, a man, but he had no other understanding of what he was doing in this world. 

     Slowly, he became conscious of another sensation: sound. It was nothing comprehensible, a watery rush all around him that matched the intensity of the light. Certain blips and crescendos tickled at his synapses, but the feeling of recognition was vacant. His eyes assembled the glimpses of shadow and movement into more familiar shapes. Warped faces floated over him, their cheeks flushed and mouths flapping like goldfishes’ without making any sound. He could do nothing but stare with the same blank gaze that he, for all he knew, always had, and submit to the overwhelming wave of sensations and nagging emptiness. A feeling of hot and cold enveloped him all at once and he was jolted back into darkness. 

     When opened his eyes, a new life had returned to what he recognized as his body. As his attention turned to his senses once more, they awoke to become a clamor. The bright light found its way into his skull and stabbed at his eyes. A door slammed open to his right. He wanted to flinch but could only manage a spasmodic jerk in his subhuman state. The figures rushed to crowd his vision once more. This time he could make them out to be humans of all shapes and sizes. He felt the same sense of empty recognition. He looked around impassively at their staring faces and vaguely wondered what he looked like. They all began to chatter at once. He gradually registered that the sing-song gibberish had some meaning to him, but meaning he did not know how he understood. He felt vaguely that he should be surprised, but he was not. It was a language, naturally. They were speaking words to him, conveying thoughts and ideas.

     “It’s me, Erving! Do you know where you are? It’s us, your family! I can’t believe you’re here before our eyes! The wonders of medical science! I wonder if he’s cold? Why has he got that funny look to him?”

     These words did confuse the corpse. There seemed to be something very important happening that everyone but him knew about. He felt a question well up in his throat and knew that he should ask them for an answer. When he spoke his voice was garbled and papery from disuse.

     “Who am I?”

     He watched as most of the gathered people stepped back in horror. Some stayed forward and desperately tried to reach some part of him with their words. He listened, face slack, trying to comprehend but unable to. They explained to him a man they once knew well and dearly missed. A man who, up until a few hours ago, had been dead. 

     Erving was close to them all - a brother, an uncle, a friend. He chose in his will to be cryogenically frozen when he died, in the hopes that one day medical science would give him a second chance at life. Now that bringing people back was a procedure that was met with a large percentage of success depending on the conditions of death, it was much more popular. That isn’t to say that resurrection wasn’t still a sacred and mysterious thing. The technology to bring back the soul was new and secretive. It was reserved only for the elite, who could pay the hefty price. Thus, the public had many unanswered questions, but the list of wealthy families in line to unfreeze and bring back Gramma or Baba was thousands long regardless. No one knew what happened behind the closed walls of the facility and what to expect afterward, but they were so desperate to get their loved ones back it didn’t matter.

    Erving died and his body had been in this facility ever since. None of them knew exactly how or why he died, or even if he took his own life, and had been desperately waiting. Each person hoped to get something from him when he returned to their world: answers, advice, or just to hear his voice again.. The family had waited in line twenty-one years for Erving’s unfreezing, and they all had imagined this grand event very differently. Most of them hardly expected this day to come until the success stories flooded the news. They had waited for such a long time to bring back Erving that although they were devastated by this revelation, they weren’t about to leave him out of their lives. They shoved their disappointment down, refusing to see the husk before them.

     So the corpse went home with them, sleeping in a room filled with unrecognizable mementos and unfamiliar smells. He couldn’t touch a thing without experiencing wave after wave of disorienting deja vu. He looked at the photographs on the walls and into the mirror at his empty eyes. It was the same face, and yet it was unrecognizable. It had none of the vitality, only the memories of laugh and worry lines that he hadn’t earned.  The family accepted him nonetheless with a sort of sad, resigned determination to cling to whatever shadow they had left. He learned to adjust to their ways, nod in response to their questions and repeat certain actions that made them smile. He wore the clothes in his room, he styled his brittle hair as he saw in photographs, and he answered when they called him Erving. Sometimes they would ask him to say things he didn’t understand, little turns of phrase or odd exclamations or words of encouragement. He complied simply because he saw their misty eyes or bright smiles and knew it was the least he could do. The corpse wasn’t sure why, but he felt a sense of duty to these people who had known him for so long. He wanted so badly to connect to them. He didn’t want to betray the vanished man’s legacy or erase who he once was, but he longed for a sense of his own identity. He felt lost.

     He couldn’t tolerate all this noise and light around him. He longed for a sound that didn’t pound into his skull, a light that couldn’t pierce through his eyelids. He desired nothing more than to retreat into the darkness he’d emerged from. It was peaceful there. He began to spend his time seeking out solitude and darkness. The family thought this behavior extremely odd but tried not to be distressed, writing it off as another unexplained side effect of the freezing. As he watched them carry on their lives without the dark silence of nighttime, without ever stopping to soothe their whirring minds, the corpse had the jarring sense that this was not the way it had always been. Everyone seemed busy but nobody was going anywhere. The world was dead and cold and meaningless, just like himself. He saw a sense of peace in the photos he found and wondered what it was like, what had changed. The answers were there, but just beyond his reach.

     The months with the family passed at a strained pace, like a forced smile. He truly tried, but he didn’t belong. They worked every day to make him feel at home and act like nothing was wrong, but the connection was simply absent. He wasn’t like the rest of them. Something that made them human no longer lived in his bones or flowed in his blood. All he had was muscle memory and empty recognition. Each movement was a struggle; he lurched when he walked and his expressions were stiff and spasmodic. He lacked the fine motor skills to turn the page of a book or play an instrument or turn the dials on a machine. He listened and reacted slowly, like a video being played slightly out of sync. He lay awake at night, trying to ignore the labored shudder of the breath hissing in and out of his chest. He wondered where Erving went, if everything he once was had vanished into the void. Where did his memories go when he fell into that deep, eternal darkness? What had it left behind?

     One day, a strange thing began to happen. The wave of deja vu that washed over him so frequently when exploring the home developed into something new. Visions would flicker in his mind’s eye, memories that were not his. Sensations felt more and more familiar. Steadily, pieces of Erving’s life came back to him. The scraps were brief and faded but had more life than anything he’d seen since his resurrection. He began to seek out different tastes and smells, spending time with the family and touching every memento to see what it brought back. Sometimes the unfamiliar memories came in an overwhelming flood at night, leaving him shaking when he awoke trying to collect himself. 

     Over the months he learned more about this stranger, Erving. He saw himself as Erving carefully tending to a little window garden. He turned the pages of a book about the planets, his fingers carefully attuning the dials of a telescope. He felt the love for his family, felt the hope of powerful dreams and aspirations. But there was one moment he kept returning to, bringing stinging tears to his eyes for reasons he couldn’t understand.

     The memory started in darkness, the feeling of the cool ground behind his head. The only sound was the soft hiss of the grass all around him and the song of crickets. The rush of the city was a distant distraction. It couldn’t reach him here. Then Erving opened his eyes. As they adjusted to the dark, a beautiful scene was revealed. Above was the sprawling night sky, midnight black and dotted with millions of stars. They twinkled like diamonds, friendly and familiar. Their white light was soothing and mysterious. Then Erving sighed, turning his head in the direction of the city. He thought back to the simple town he’d grown up in. The bustling metropolis in the distance seemed completely foreign. He watched it explode into a megacity in less than a decade, and yet it was still ever-evolving, growing, and overflowing. Surrounding its twinkling lights was a halo of orange haze that bled into the darkness. His eye twitched as a floodlight snapped on, illuminating the swarming skyscrapers. A tight sense of defeat gripped his chest, and then he awoke. The corpse lay in bed, replaying the memory. He rose to look out the window, wrinkling his face against the light. The night sky was dull with smog and brightly lit, giving it the dingy color of old paper. The building windows glittered in the palest imitation of stars. He closed his eyes and curled back up in the bed. Society had changed since his past life. It was bright where it had been soothing, pulsing where it had been still, sharp where it had been soft. It was bigger but had less meaning. As this realization became ever clearer, the memories of Erving became tinged with sadness.

     He felt the longing of the past. He learned that Erving had been a dreamer with an appreciation for the little things in life, but as he grew older something changed and everything seemed to be falling apart around him. He spent his life gardening and donated much of his wealth to environmental charities, but one day it all stopped. He was an astronomy enthusiast who imagined his whole life of seeing the stars firsthand, but then the news got out of defunding the space programs. There was no point anymore. The world closed in on itself, started its desperate race to nowhere. Nights were eliminated, as they offered no time for productivity. Humanity took and took but never gave back, its toxicity eating into the world it claimed as its own. Erving stopped leaving the house and reading the news. He died, in the end, with bitter regrets and unfollowed dreams. Now, here was the corpse: Erving’s last chance, but his past self had gone and left him with no direction in life. He had no idea what he should be looking for, what small clue could teach him what life here was truly missing.

      He was alone in his room at night. Despite the traffic and sirens wailing outside, the sound of the wall clock’s electronic gears grinding and buzzing was painfully loud in his ears. The city lights cut like blades through the seams of his window shades. He sat in his bed, tossing and turning, his eyes refusing to close and his thoughts seeping through his mind like molasses. Finally, he threw off his loose blankets and stumbled out of their embrace, beginning a jerky shuffle around the room. What was he looking for? His mental gridlock was interrupted by a sickening WHACK at his covered window. The corpse slowly looked up, then turned and rushed down the stairs to the outside door as fast as his stiff legs could drag him, gripping the banister like a vice. He braced himself before opening the door, unleashing the rush of sound and light of the outside world. He could hardly see the gray sky past the dancing floodlights, could hardly think with all the clamor. He pulled his collar over his face and clapped his hands over his ears, stumbling behind the building to the street below his window. None of the passersby gave him a second glance. In the back alley, the sounds were somewhat muted but still echoed all around him. The light strobed around the corners at random intervals, lighting up the dingy asphalt and the tiny, ragged bundle lying there. He held his breath to keep out the acrid mist of the city. Crouching, he reached his hand out at the tiny shape.

      It was a bird. A tiny, dead sparrow. The only bird, indeed the only wild animal he had seen since his awakening. The poor thing must have flown all this way only to be dazzled by the lights and so confused by the sound that it flew heedlessly into the window. As a tiny flame of sympathy flickered in his chest, he remembered. A distant memory of a sound came back to him, and with it came the realization of what he’d been looking for all this time, what absence had been torturing him.

     Birdsong.

     Such a simple thing that meant so much. A sign of life. He looked around helplessly as the vague memories returned and a powerful sense of loss and understanding washed over him. He listened to the screaming machinery all around and couldn’t hear the sweet twitter of birds. The sky was a flat, dingy gray, and all around him the world kept rushing and building and decaying. There was no silence or stars. The world had nothing left to nurture it, to let it live and grow. He realized what had broken Erving’s heart, and what he would have wanted him to do.

     The corpse looked at the bird. He looked at the building where the family lay asleep. Then he looked up at the stark, oppressive skyscrapers. Finally, with a driving sense of purpose, he pulled his jacket closer around him and stepped into the sidewalk. Instantly he was swept away by the bustling crowd. He held his breath and let the sound and light wash over him. He didn’t know how long he stumbled, retreating into himself, pulled by the current of mindless commuters. He let his feet fall in sequence ahead of him: left, right, left, right. He paid no heed to the bodies jostling around him even when shoving headlong against the rushing wall of humanity. The space between people grew. The crowds dissipated to a random smattering of workers, and the corpse found himself approaching the edge of the city. He never stopped his pilgrimage, making a beeline away from the place he had left until the reach of bright city lights began to fade. He walked and walked and walked for what seemed like days with his eyes tightly shut, the acrid air that sputtered in and out of his lungs gradually becoming fresher and cooler. The clamor of the city faded into a faint whine. The light and noise and smog released its hold on him. What seemed like infinity passed before he finally stopped, his limbs buckling. As he collapsed with exhaustion, he took great gulps of the pure air. The wind whispered in his ears as a cricket started its serenade to the left of his head. Peace and serenity wrapped him in its arms, soothing his battered senses. Shifting onto his back, he lay flat against the ground and opened his dust-gritted eyes. Above him was the stunning universe, stretching on into infinity. The stars twinkled back at him like the laughter of old friends, and the darkness was as soft as the finest black velvet. With the absence of the flashing lights of the city the subtle, deep blues and purples of the sky seemed infinitely more beautiful. The faint lights in the darkness were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. A faint smile crept across the lips of the corpse and somewhere, out in the distant stars, Erving smiled too. For the first time since he awoke, the corpse felt alive.

[mystery-moose]

Post-Canon.

When you spend a hundred years with six other people, you come to know and care for them all in very different ways. Different words applied to different kinds of feeling, each no lesser than the others. Friends, family, comrades-in-arms, father-figures and true loves -- a web of unbreakable bonds tying seven people together.

But there was only ever one word that applied to Taako and Magnus.

(A collection of short, stand-alone vignettes.)

/////

Magnus handed Taako his glass, freshly refilled with wine that Taako referred to as "very nearly acceptable," before sitting back down in his chair. It creaked under his weight, but Magnus knew it would hold. He'd built it, after all.

It was raining, then. One of the first big rains of spring, not quite a storm, but a lingering shower that lasted the whole day. It poured gently from the sloped rooftop over his porch in a watery curtain, so thick and misty he could barely see the ocean across the road and down the hill. Magnus sipped at his brandy and made a mental note to put up some gutters that year, maybe even dig a little creek, funnel the runoff down to the pond out back.

Taako propped his feet up on the railing and settled back into his chair. "This all you do when it rains, Mags? Sit out on the porch and stare at it?"

"Mhm," Magnus hummed. "Pretty much."

Taako nodded slowly. "Nice. Boring, but nice."

Magnus smiled into his glass. "Mhm."

A long silence followed, broken only by the comforting white noise of the rain, and the very occasional wagon passing by on the road. Sometimes that was all it was, between them -- silent presence. Of course, you spend more than a hundred years with someone, and there wasn't so great a need for words. But it was also just how Taako was, sometimes; one minute, he was the life of the party, the center of attention, and the next, all he wanted was to be left alone.

(Magnus still vividly remembered going to look for Taako after he'd disappeared from his own wedding reception. He'd found him perched on an old wooden fence in the shade of a tall oak tree, atop a grassy hill overlooking the suburbs of Greenhold. Magnus had posted up beside him, and they'd spent nearly ten minutes of silence together before they'd headed back.)

Magnus closed his eyes and was strongly considering dozing off for a minute when Taako broke the silence.

"How do you make these so comfortable?"

He blinked his eyes open and looked at Taako oddly.

"The chairs," Taako clarified, tapping the armrest. "Always wondered."

"You have?"

"Well, no, actually. But I'm wondering now."

Magnus grinned and shook his head. "Trade secret."

"Oh, fuck you," said Taako, somewhat affectionately.

"That's not a joke. Literally, that's what you're asking for."

"Yeah, I'm gonna turn right around and sell it to the highest bidder." Taako lounged further into his chair and pointed at him lazily. "Again, fuck you."

Magnus chuckled, looking out at the rain again. "I'm not even sure I could explain it. Not in words, anyway. It's an art. Sort of."

Taako snorted quietly. "Way to dodge the hell out of the question, Neo."

Another silence. Taako took another sip of his wine. Magnus scratched at his chin pensively.

"I can tell you one thing," he said finally.

Taako's expression remained placid, but his ears visibly perked up. "Yeah?"

"Good chairs, they're comfy for most everyone," Magnus explained. "But the best chairs? Those are made with specific people in mind. You build it for them, and while it might not work for everyone else, to them it'll be the most comfortable damn chair they've ever sat in."

He gestured with his glass, pointing at Taako's chair with his pinky.

"That chair's yours."

Taako blinked, narrowing his eyes skeptically.

"No bullshit," Magnus said. "I promise."

After a moment, Taako lifted his arm from the armrest and looked beneath it, around it, like he'd see something there he hadn't seen before.

"Do you make a lot of chairs for people who don't live with you?" he asked idly, lowering his feet and bending over to look at the chair's legs.

"Only the ones who stop by and drink all my wine," Magnus replied easily.

He took another sip of his brandy, sighing contentedly. When he looked over at Taako again, he found him staring with his elbow on the armrest. There was a smile playing at his face.

"You can take it with you, if you wanna," Magnus said, a little softer. "It's always been yours."

Taako full-on grinned and looked away, settling back into the chair and propping his feet up on the railing again.

"Nah," he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "I do that and I've got no reason to visit anymore."

"Ha ha," Magnus deadpanned. He looked down and considered his glass -- less than half-full -- then looked at Taako's. "Another drink?"

Taako didn't look at him, didn't even open his eyes. He raised a hand and flapped it weakly. "In a minute."

Magnus smiled. He settled back in his own chair and stretched out his legs, staring out across the yard, through the mist, past the trees and across the road and down the hill to the sea.

For a minute, they both sat in silence and listened to the rain.

[seriouslyhooked]

Show Me (The CS Mixtape) Part 144/?

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

A/N: Short future fic from Emma’s perspective on her wedding day to Killian. I know I have done many of these before, BUT, this song was a reader request, and it always make me think of wedding vows, so here we are. Besides, given the current climate of the show, I am searching for the fluffiest feels-filled fics and this seems like a good venue for some cuteness. Inspired by the song ‘Show Me’ by Idina Menzel.

We finally made it, Emma thought to herself as she gazed into the mirror in her bedroom and looked at the picture she made for in her wedding dress. Today’s finally here.

It was impossible for Emma to articulate her joy at that fact. This had been a long hard road to now, with ups and downs, highs and lows, but at the end of the day this was all she could ever want. In a few minutes time she’d be leaving this room and heading down the path of her chosen forever, coasting down an aisle that led to Killian, the man she loved and the one person in the world she wanted to build her future with.

There had been plenty of moments up to now when Emma doubted if they’d make it here. Things in their life together didn’t always go exactly to plan, and there had been more than a few wrenches thrown into their path and obstacles for them to tackle head on. A lot of that work to getting here had been internal for both of them. Emma had to let go of her past hurts, and Killian had to learn to do the same. They both needed time to grow and to heal and to change for the better, and yet the way they’d done that was through finding each other. Even in the worst of times, when hope was hard to find, and the odds seemed stacked against them, they always found their way back home to each other.

Thankfully today the Universe wasn’t intent on throwing any more trials in their way, and the world outside was perfectly situated to allow a real sense of peace. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the breeze coming through the window of her bedroom right now was soft and sweet, cool but still mild, like something from a daydream. It was a sign to Emma that the battle to get to Killian was largely over. They’d face more trials for sure, but now they’d have each other and be tied together in every way, facing everything as a team in the way she truly wanted.

“Oh Emma. You look so beautiful.”

The watery words came from her mother, who must have stolen into the room while Emma was distracted by visions of the future. As Emma expected her mother’s eyes were filled with tears when she turned to face her. Snow was truly on the precipice of a full-blown cry, but Emma had to stop that. If she didn’t they’d both be shedding tears, and today was too happy a moment to do that. So instead of letting those feelings linger, Emma extended her hand to her mother and pulled her to look in the mirror with her. Here they stood side by side, enjoying a milestone so many mothers and daughters faced together, and it almost felt normal when so little in their lives ever did.

“I never thought I’d have this,” Emma whispered to her Mom and then she flicked her glance to her mother’s reflection and explained. “A wedding was never exactly on my radar, given the whole avoiding feelings and attachment thing…”

“Thank God you pushed through that, that Killian helped get you through that, and that you chose love in the end,” Snow said and Emma smiled in reply.

Her mother had been very clear in her immense happiness for Emma and her future son-in-law, and that acceptance from both her parents, despite some of the darkness in Killian’s past, had been so incredibly appreciated on Emma’s part. It made an already special day all the more wonderful, because she knew everyone who she loved was celebrating not just for her happiness, but that she’d found that happiness with her true love who they all loved as well.

“Yeah. But there were moments in my old life when I wondered what it might be like. I always wanted my parents to be there, even if I never knew you, and now you are. You and Dad have been with me through every part of this, and I…”

Oh shit, here were those tears again, but this time it was her mother’s turn to be strong. Snow turned Emma to face her and held Emma’s face in her hands, looking at her with misty eyes, but a sincerity that could not be denied. It was a sure sign that some much needed words of wisdom and heartfelt motherly affection were coming, and Emma could hardly wait.

“There is nothing in this world that compares to being your mother, Emma. I only wish I could have been there more, but what we have had has been the greatest honor of my life. Seeing you these past few years, watching how brave you are to have hope when life taught you that you couldn’t… that has been the best of adventures.  And today we’re starting another one. You and Killian are going to have a wonderful life together, Emma. I can feel it.”

Emma’s chest flooded with warmth at the thought, because she knew her mother was right. Call it intuition or what have you, but Emma could sense that they’d turned the corner. Maybe the forces of evil might come knocking again, but the harrowing separations, and the back and forth of pain and doubt, those were over now. This was the start of a new chapter, a brighter one, and hopefully a long and happy one too.

“Speaking of my future husband... how is he?” Emma asked, knowing that the captain she loved never did very well in situations where they were apart. He’d had to sleep aboard the Jolly last night and had missed seeing her all of today, and Emma could only imagine what he was putting her Dad and Henry through because of it. He wouldn’t be cruel or mean in any way, but her pirate was at his best when she was close, and honestly it was the same for Emma.

“Well after I finally convinced him that a wedding at sunset would be worth the wait, and that you would love the ceremony to be at that time, he calmed a little bit. But there’s been a fair amount of pacing and your Dad’s gotten the brunt of Killian’s more stubborn desires to see you sooner than he should.”

“Are they already waiting?” Emma inquired, and her mother appeared to gauge her reasons for asking immediately. Killian wasn’t the only one who was impatient, and Emma had been eagerly anticipating this next step so long, she didn’t want to wait anymore, not if she could help it. Snow’s lips curved into a knowing smile and she nodded.

“We can go anytime. He’s waiting for you.”

That was all Emma needed to hear to grab her bouquet of flowers and head out the door arm in arm with her mother. The walk down the stairs and through Emma and Killian’s home wasn’t rushed, but each step was charged with this blissful kind of energy. Emma could feel the space between her and her fiancé lessening, and the time was nearly here for her and Killian to say their vows and make their promises to spend forever with each other. And all the while that they walked towards that next moment, Emma took it all in, tracing every part of their story over again in her mind’s eye that she could. The good and the bad, it was all a part of the fabric of their love, and Emma was grateful for it all because it led them to now.

Some people might think a few of those memories would be too painful for Emma or Killian to bear, but those old scars were merely the proof to Emma that this love was fought for fiercely and was hard earned. She knew that life wasn’t always the picture perfect fairytale people wanted to believe in. Sometimes the people you love messed up, or you pushed them away when that was really the last thing you wanted. The important thing was forgiving people for their weaker moments and working to do better yourself. Both she and Killian had done that time and again, and now they were whole again, with trust and honesty constantly present in this relationship between them.

“Are you ready, Emma?” Her mother asked when they reached the doorway and Emma nodded.

“I’ve been ready for a long time,” she confessed and her mother pressed a kiss to Emma’s cheek before lightly knocking on the door. When she did it opened immediately to reveal Emma’s father, brother, and Henry. Her mother smiled widely and took little Neal from his father, moving to the rest of the ceremony where she would have a front row seat to the festivities.

“Wow,” her father said when he took Emma in in all her wedding day glory. She beamed up at him, loving the fact that her Dad hid nothing from her. His eyes were just as full and sparkling with that excess of emotion that her mother’s had been, and yet Emma didn’t hate it. In fact she embraced those feelings, and she took them for the gifts they were. Her Dad loved her unconditionally, and that love was truly evident from the awe in his voice.

“I dialed Mom back on some of the more princessy elements, but she got her way with the flower crown in the end. So what do you think?”

Emma did a little twirl in the dress that she’d chosen. It didn’t billow out like a princess gown, but there were traces of the kind of dress she’d worn in Camelot. With the lace and the long sleeves, some might call it modest, but it was also exactly what Emma wanted. The details were exquisite, and the flowers in the details were pretty and never failed to make her smile. She felt beautiful in this dress, and she could hardly wait to see Killian’s reaction when he finally saw her after waiting for so long.

“You look perfect, Emma. And you will always be a princess no matter what you’re wearing,” her Dad professed and Emma giggled a bit at that, not feeling at all ashamed of how joyous she was right now. She deserved this. She and Killian both did.

“You look happy, Mom. Actually I don’t even think happy does it justice,” Henry mused and Emma took his hand and squeezed it tight.

“I am, kid. More than happy.”

“Good,” her father agreed. “Because if you weren’t this would all be going in a very different direction. I don’t go giving my daughter’s hand to just any old person, you know.”

Emma laughed at the teasing joke and Henry and her Dad joined in before both of them offered her their arm and they moved through the rest of the space with the same even steps that Emma and her mother had taken before.

At first Emma had anticipated that it would just be her Dad giving her away today, but then Henry had come to her and asked to do so too a few weeks back. He said it was important to him, and that he wanted Killian to really know just how much he approved. Emma had agreed on one condition – that Henry know he wasn’t ‘giving her away’ at all. He would always be her heart and her first priority, and her getting married and eventually adding to the ranks of this family wouldn’t change that. He was her son, her kid, and the person who had given her all the tools to believe in herself and believe in love, and that love and caring she had for him would never change.

“Wait for it,” Henry said right when they were about to go around the bend, and Emma almost asked him what he meant, but then she saw the ceremony before them and she knew what he was after.

Her family had gone all out for this, and while it was elaborate and ornate, it was also somehow simple and intimate just as Emma had wanted. There was white everywhere, in the flowers, in the decorations, and yet there was color too, bursts of it that Emma felt were very reflective of her inner feelings right now. This wedding was gorgeous, but it also felt alive and vibrant, and not stuffy or too meticulously controlled. It was honestly awe inspiring, and brought tears to her eyes, but the most important part of all of it wasn’t the flowers or the guests, it was Killian, who was waiting for her down the path of flower petals looking about to burst with love and excitement.

“You know, I don’t think he’s feeling it so much. Maybe we should turn around,” David joked and Henry laughed at that.

“I don’t think you’d love the reaction you got if you tried, from either of us,” Emma said and her Dad agreed, letting the music fill the space between them as they made the rest of the way down the aisle.

It was a long march, a slow march, and one Emma would have liked to take faster, but she used this time to really take in the man she was about to marry. He was so handsome, dressed in a formal way that still let him be himself, and Emma was not unaffected. In fact her mind raced right past this moment and the reception to the night they’d have together when everybody left and her heart kicked up, but she counseled herself to be patient and to take every part of this in. There was no need to rush, when they could just be in this happy state of grace for a while.

By the time the moment came that she gave her Dad and Henry a kiss and handed off her flowers to put her hand in Killian’s, Emma was on a whole new wavelength. The humor had largely fallen away and all that was left was this intense need to be in this moment with him and memorize every element so she never forgot how perfect this was. This was their day, a day they’d been building towards and would hold dear to their hearts forever, and it was just the start of everything to come.

“I love you, Emma,” Killian whispered before anyone else could get a word in and Emma grinned at that, responding in kind and catching herself just before kissing him. He totally saw it though, and he let her know with another whispered promise that soon enough she’d get that kiss and he’d make it one to remember.

The ceremony was blessedly short, without some of the pomp and circumstance her mother had described as customary in the Enchanted Forest. It was more like the weddings in this realm, but Emma and Killian had designed it so there weren’t all kind of readings and things. It was just the basics from Archie (who was their justice of the peace), and then their vows, which they’d designed to be personal and heart felt.

“Emma – I’ve tried time and time again to find the words to tell you how I feel. I’ve been striving for eloquence, but sometimes simplicity is the clearest way to show one your true heart. So I’ll say this: I have loved you almost since the start, and though it seemed impossible that I could let go of my old life, you made that journey to something better a reality for me. I found strength through your strength, light through your kindness and acceptance, and hope through your love. You have been my northern star, the map that set me on a path of being more, and I promise here and now never to stray from that. I will do right by you and be the man you deserve and the man I’ve always wanted to be.”

Emma could feel herself getting choked up, but she would not cave to those emotions. The tears would come, but she wanted them to wait just a little longer. As if he could read her mind, Killian smiled and brought her hand up to his lips to kiss lightly before continuing.

“Since meeting you, I’ve learned that life as a hero is never easy, but loving you, Emma, that’s the most effortless thing I’ve ever done. You made it impossible not to fall under your spell, and even in our darkest moments, there never came a time when you have not meant the world to me. You, Swan, are a miracle - my miracle - and I intend to show you that every day as long as we live that I was worth you taking the chance on.”

“I’d pick you every time,” Emma whispered and Killian’s hand came up to her cheek, to wipe away one of the tears that had fallen as he whispered back.

“And I you, my love. I will choose you from now until my dying day, and ever after. You are it for me, my greatest dream and surest triumph. I love you.”

Emma wasn’t sure how she managed to get her voice to steady or to find the words after his touching vows, but she was adamant that she do so. Killian, after all, was always the one giving her grand statements and beautiful words, but today they should both reap the benefits of this love, and she’d find a way to let him know that she was just as deep in this as he was, and to convince him that they were equal in each and every way.

“Killian, the day we met you said you could read me like a book, and I thought at the time that was just a line from a cocky pirate who was way too full of himself,” Emma paused because there was a smattering of laughter from their guests and a chuckle from Killian too.

“But you proved even in those first moments that it wasn’t a line. You saw the one thing that I’d struggled with more than anything in the world – trust. I couldn’t bring myself to really trust anyone even when I wanted to and I had all but given up with trying. I thought I could love people and be there for my son and my parents even if I kept parts of myself from them, but you proved me wrong. You showed me over time and with so much perseverance that at the end of the day real hope requires absolute trust, and I can never thank you enough for that.”

Killian ran his thumb across her knuckles lightly, his blue eyes staying trained on her face, and Emma could feel his silent promise that there was nothing she need thank him for. She could almost hear his words in his head, but she knew, even if he couldn’t, that he’d managed to save her from herself by helping her have faith.

“We were both different people then, back there on that beanstalk, guarded and attached to lives neither of us wanted, but somehow, together, we’ve come through that. We went through hell and worse to get to this moment. We tore down walls, weathered every storm, and through all of that my love for you has grown. It’s bigger than anything I ever thought possible, and I know the reason for that is because we know each other, we understand each other, and we recognize that our key to happiness lies together.

“I don’t know where exactly the road will lead us. I suspect there’s a few more villains in our path or crises in our future, but I do know that every day we have together I intend to show you as you’ve shown me that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. We’re a team, Killian, and from this moment on I promise to never let you lose sight of that. I promise not to run unless it’s to you, and not to lose my hope in you and in us. And I promise to love you, now and always.”

There were a few more steps to go through, some of them incredibly memorable, like the moments when they both said ‘I do’ and when their wedding bands were slipped onto their fingers, but Emma was anxiously awaiting one moment in particular, and when it came she and Killian both struggled to contain themselves.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife -,”

The rest of Archie’s words were lost for Emma and Killian, who gave way to their desires and stole that kiss to seal this union there in front of everyone. It was packed with emotion and promise and light, and though her family was there and the whole town was watching them, Emma and Killian didn’t pull back until they were good and ready. When they did, Emma felt like a final part of her soul had clicked into place, and she was so relieved. Finally she had everything she��d ever wanted, and now the future was unlimited and her world was made new.

“Now what?” Emma asked, her voice low but jesting as the crowd of guests clapped and cheered for the two of them, and Killian only smiled at her, his hand cupping her cheek and his eyes searching hers and seemingly finding exactly what he was looking for.

“Now we live happily ever after.”

Emma loved the sound of that, and in the end, she loved the reality so much better. Because they did find that happy ending they were looking for, and it was all so much more beautiful and worthwhile than anyone ever could have imagined.

……………….

Heaven knows I went through hell Trying to trust somebody else I had all but given up Cause I was never quite enough

Couldn't tell I was going under Suddenly, suddenly that water Pulls you in, pulls you down Balancing on a tightrope wire Build the walls, build the walls up higher Until you, until now

Baby, I feel it deep down in my bones There's a part of me no one else has known When you look, not afraid of what you see But you say show me, you say show me

And I know you can see into my soul To the part of me no one else has known When you look in my eyes, I do believe I can show me, I can show me

Breathing in and breathing out I won't look back and won't look down All the mess that came before Set me up for something more

Couldn't tell I was going under Suddenly, suddenly that water Pulls you in, pulls you down Balancing on a tightrope wire Build the walls, build the walls up higher Until you, until now

Baby, I feel it deep down in my bones There's a part of me no one else has known When you look, not afraid of what you see But you say show me, you say show me

And I know you can see into my soul To the part of me no one else has known When you look in my eyes, I do believe I can show me, I can show me

Baby, I'll leave it all out on the floor (I can show, I can show) Cause the past, it won't break me anymore (I can show, I can show) When you look in my eyes (I can show, I can show) I do believe (I can show, I can show) I can show me (I can show, I can show) I can show (I can show, I can show)

Baby, I feel it deep down in my bones (Deep down in my soul) There's a part of me no one else has known (No one else has known) When you look, not afraid of what you see (Oooh) But you say show me, you say show me (Oooh)

And I know you can see into my soul (see into my soul) To the part of me no one else has known When you look in my eyes, I do believe That you say show me (show me) And you say show me I can show me (Oooh) I can show me

I can show me (I can show me) I will show me

Post-Note: So as I go through these old prompts, I have to say that I am so thrilled for all of them. There is not a single suggestion I have received for this series that I haven’t found to be lovely, and though it’s taken quite a bit of time for some of these to get written, I want to assure all my lovely readers who have asked for songs that I appreciate them floating ideas my way. I am hoping to focus a little more on the mixtape in the coming week and get more of these off my list of to-do songs, but only time will tell. Anyway thank you to my lovely reader who asked for this song in particular, and thank you to all of you for reading! I hope you have a lovely rest of your day!

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