#but then Eliza walks in in her dress and looks absolutely stunning

[sailforvalinor]

“Eliza, where the devil are my slippers?” aka the best last line of a musical ever don’t come for me

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supergirl Valentine's Prompts Day 14/14: "I love you."

Lena watches the way Kara’s hand plays with her own, mesmerised by the way Kara’s fingers glide against hers as their fingers twist together. Lena’s not even sure if Kara is conscious of her movements but Lena is, smiling as Kara’s thumb runs over the ring that’s been sitting on her finger for the last six months.

“I can’t wait to marry you.”

So maybe Kara is aware of her actions as her thumb moves over the ring again, the ring that had Lena in tears when Kara had knelt in front of her with a question she’d been considering asking herself.

“Just three more months,” Lena replies, from her position nestled into Kara, her back against Kara’s front. They’d sat down to watch a movie together but the screen still remains blank, both too comfortable now to move and get the remote.

“Why did we decide to wait so long to get married? We should’ve had a shorter engagement,” Kara says. Lena doesn’t point out that nine months is actually a relatively short engagement compared to most people she knows. “I’d fly us straight to Vegas right now to tie the knot if I could.”

“I think your sister would murder us if we did that.”

“I can take her in a fight, let’s do it.”

Lena can hear the smile in Kara’s voice.

As great as that sounds (because nothing sounds as great as being able to call Kara her wife) they both know they won’t, both want their family there to celebrate the day with them. Lena laughs. “You can take Alex, but what about Eliza?”

Kara presses her face into Lena’s shoulder, her next words come out muffled. “Don’t bring Eliza into this, she’d be so sad if she missed our wedding.”

“Exactly.” Lena takes Kara’s hand, threads their fingers together, brings them to rest on her stomach. “Three months is going to go by so fast, I know it.”

---

Lena curls her feet into the grass beneath her, stupidly nervous but so excited that the day has finally arrived. They’re in Midvale, surrounded by their family and friends, and it’s perfect.

She’s not sure how Kara managed to convince her to wear bare feet, but she did.

(Actually she does know how, the suggestion from Kara had sounded entirely reasonable to her kiss-scrambled brain. But she must admit it was a good suggestion, wearing heels on grass didn’t sound overly fun).

The music starts and Lena’s heart jumps.

This is it.

She’s never been this excited for anything in her life.

The moment Kara steps into view, her heart stops, before it picks up double time in her chest. Kara looks absolutely stunning, in a dress they’d picked out together, her own feet bare, with the softest look Lena has ever seen on her face.

Lena would call in nothing short of adoring.

She knows she’s looking back at Kara with the exact same expression, even if the edges of it are tinged with nerves.

There are already tears in her eyes as Kara walks down the makeshift aisle in the Danvers backyard towards her even though she’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry. When Lena had told Kara that part, Kara had kissed her and told her there’d no doubt be tears, from them both.

(But mostly her because Lena’s been known to cry rather easily, and this day is nothing small).

“I love you,” Kara mouths as she gets closer, smiling getting wider the closer she gets.

Lena is so in love with her.

“I love you too,” she mouths back, so entirely happy that it feels like she might burst with all the feelings currently swirling around in her chest.

Kara’s smile somehow gets even bigger.

Lena takes Kara’s offered hand when she reaches her, the feeling so natural as their hands tangle together. Lena’s pretty sure her hand was made to be held by Kara’s.

They say their vows and then Lena’s hands are shaking as she slips the ring onto Kara’s finger before Kara does the same.

They’re both crying now. She knows there are people watching but she doesn’t care.

“I love you,” Lena says, this time the words whispered between them as they lean in for their first kiss as wives.

“I love you too,” Kara replies, the words caught in the kiss, a kiss that’s always felt so much like home, as it does now, as they kiss in front of their family.

Kara is home.

“It’s official,” Lena says as they part. Kara’s smiling so wide it looks like it must hurt.

Lena’s not sure she’s going to be able to stop smiling anytime soon either.

“It’s official,” Kara repeats, tangling their fingers together between them again. “You’re my wife.”

Lena already loves that word. “And you’re mine.”

“Forever.”

ao3

[omniversalobservations]

Fandom Mashups Are On The Rise

Fact: Two fandoms are better than one. When your favorite fictional worlds collide, it’s a mashup made in fandom heaven. Fandom mashups are becoming more popular, with crossovers popping up in TV shows and movies, fan art, original cosplays, and even new collectibles, making pop culture hybrids a top trend in the geek world.

Fandom mashups have such a powerful impact because they join together two groups of extremely passionate fans — or two halves of your own geeky heart. While products and entertainment moments that feature themes from two separate worlds may be a little more niche —  not every Dungeons & Dragons fan would get schwifty with Rick and Morty — they have the ability to draw fans from one property into another. And the most accessible way for companies to pull off this concept is with gotta-have-it merch — and lots of it. With the right properties and the right fan bases, the collaborations can be seamless and maintain the integrity of each brand.

Take FOCO’s line of Game of Thrones MLB Bobbleheads, for example. The cross-licensed series pairs Major League Baseball players and mascots with Game of Thrones characters and settings. The first series merges three distinct bobblehead styles — the Iron Throne, the Night King, and the Ice Dragon Viserion — with mascots and branding from all 30 MLB teams.

“We definitely think it’s an emerging category, this cross-licensed mashup that we’re going to explore,” says Matthew Katz, licensing manager at FOCO. “… We tried to make sure we had the right balance. You don’t want to go too far one way or the other because you want to capture the people who are superfans of either baseball or Game of Thrones, and then capture those people in the middle as well.”

The bobblehead collaboration started off as a partnership for MLB’s theme nights, during which every fan who walks through the stadium gates gets a promotional item, like a bobblehead. The promotion opened the door to a conversation on how to expand at retail, especially for people who couldn’t make it to the promo nights or desired a more high-end collectible than the ones handed out at the games.

A unique aspect of pop culture mashups is that it gives the creators a bit more freedom in playing around with storytelling. The Night King was an ominous Game of Thrones villain, but he’s a bit more lighthearted when he’s wearing team-themed armor and ditching his spear for a baseball bat made of ice with the team’s logo on it.

“Developing a non-traditional product line like this gives a fresh perspective and allows a fan who has love for both brands to get a refreshed look,” says Josephine Fusezi, MLB’s vice president of global consumer products. “Being able to play with key elements from both baseball and Game of Thrones gives the consumer something different and refreshing. It also gives us an opportunity to have a little fun with our fans.”

Response to the first bobblehead series was so positive that FOCO quickly developed a followup series in just six weeks, featuring characters such as the direwolf, the Kingsguard, and a White Walker, available now for preorder. New MLB theme nights began in June for a Netflix Stranger Things collaboration, too.

Fans will also know exactly who to call with Hasbro’s new Ecto-1 Ectotron figure. The Transformers universe already has heroic Autobots, evil Decepticons, and now ghosts! The iconic Ecto-1 Cadillac from the 1984 Ghostbusters movie is now a Transformers robot — a converting Paranormal Investigator called Ectotron. The figure comes with its own Proton Pack and Slimer accessory, and it converts between Ecto-1 and robot in 22 steps.

This year marks the 35th anniversaries of both Transformers and Ghostbusters, making it an ideal year to combine the best of both franchises. A five-part origin story from IDW Publishing will also be available this year, giving fans insight on Ectotron’s background.

“Brand anniversaries not only allow us to celebrate a franchise, but we can also tap into nostalgia around a brand,” says Tom Warner, senior vice president for the Transformers franchise at Hasbro. “The Transformers and Ghostbusters brands are filled with waves of millennial nostalgia as new parents share the toys and brands they loved as children with their own kids.”

Ectotron preorders sold out within 24 hours after the figure was revealed at Toy Fair New York in February, so additional preorders were made available. Fans should also be on the lookout for other potential Transformers and Ghostbusters collaborations soon, according to Warner.

“On the surface, the Transformers and Ghostbusters franchises may seem vastly different; however, they share more in common than one may expect,” Warner says. “Both have two passionate fandoms, sharing a mutual bond over out-of-this world storytelling rooted in science fiction. When combining both worlds, our goal was to create stories and a product that stays true to the origins of both brands.”

The Avengers movies are probably the most well-known, most popular crossovers, but they weren’t the first. Think of all the “most ambitious crossover event in history” memes that circulated around the time that Infinity War came out — and how we were reminded of Disney Channel’s That’s So Suite Life of Hannah Montana, which came out in 2006, or 2003’s The Rugrats Go Wild, in which the band of babies met Eliza and her family from The Wild Thornberries, on Nickelodeon.

Entertainment crossover content is so successful because fans of these franchises can see all of their favorite characters interacting in situations they normally wouldn’t, like when the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles visited Gotham in Batman vs. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2019). In this movie, the heroes in a half-shell and the Dark Knight team up when Shredder joins forces with Ra’s al Ghul, and all of the heroes need to work together to defeat the combined might of the Foot Clan and League of Assassins.

These crossovers can also span multiple age groups, such as Sesame Street’s “Respect Brings Us Together” campaign. Two commercials launched in April featuring Elmo and Cookie Monster, one of which starred the notably at-odds Lannister siblings from Game of Thrones. And if anyone can convince Cersei and Tyrion Lannister to get along, it’s Elmo.

Fan demand for this type of content is loud and clear, as is the case with The CW’s DC Universe. The network has created crossover content yearly since 2014 through its DC TV shows, starting with Arrow and The Flash. At the time, in December 2014, the two-part Arrowverse crossover between the two shows was the most-watched December telecast in seven years for the network, and the most-watched episode for both shows since their respective series premieres.

In 2016, the network’s #DCWeek event delivered The CW’s most-watched week in six years, featuring a four-night DC crossover between Arrow, The Flash, Supergirl, and DC’s Legends of Tomorrow. The CW’s fifth-annual Arrowverse crossover last year, Elseworlds, introduced Gotham City and Batwoman into the mix, and concluded with a tease of the Crisis on Infinite Earths crossover, set to air this fall.

The ratings for The CW’s crossover events clearly show that fans crave this content, and it’s safe to say we can expect more of it in the future.

Pop culture mashups also come from the most important community: the fans themselves.

While manufacturers and entertainment companies have the power to bring pop culture mashups to the masses, fans can express themselves through cosplay and fan art — without the shackles of licensing rights getting in the way. And here, creativity is key. Out-of-the-box fan mashups, including one-of-a-kind cosplays and stunning illustrations, all have one thing in common: They fuse two things that would likely never be together otherwise.

Eric Proctor is a digital artist at TsaoShin who draws vibrant fantasy pieces, with a heavy focus on pop culture artwork. His gallery features bright, fun, and whimsical pieces that incorporate characters, such as Stitch from Lilo & Stitch and Toothless from How to Train Your Dragon.

“For me, the crossovers are a Venn diagram where the two circles completely overlap of things that I absolutely love,” Proctor says. “So, any crossover that I’m currently doing is going to just be just that I love A and I love B, and I’d love to see A and B together.”

Proctor is currently working on an ongoing Grumpy Cat and Disney series, which had accidental roots. Proctor bought a new rig and tablet for his illustration setup and was practicing with his new equipment. He sketched out the iconic The Little Mermaid scene in which Ariel is singing on the rock with water splashing around her, and because he doesn’t like drawing people, he drew in Grumpy Cat as a last-minute decision. He showed it to his friends, expecting to delete it, but then people asked him what Disney scenario he was going to put Grumpy Cat into next — and the series was born.

“I say that I love both of those things, but one of the things I felt so guilty about making that particular series is that I really, really love Disney, but I’m putting Grumpy Cat in a scenario where it’s just ruining it,” Proctor says. “It’s this little bit of dark humor where you’re like, ‘I really love Disney, but honestly if Grumpy Cat was in it, this is probably what would happen.’ So it’s taking something that’s a little sacred and then ripping it to shreds a bit. I think the humor was one of those things I had to play around with.”

Proctor is currently working on his next Grumpy Cat Disney installment, a Cinderella-themed piece titled “Bippidi Boppidi No.” It will show the scene from the animated film in which the fairy godmother grants all of Cinderella’s wishes, but with everything completely ruined, such as a pumpkin dress, Lucifer the cat being the size of a horse, and other mishaps.

“It’s one of those situations where it’s so easy to imagine a lot of those crossovers together; they seem so real and fitting that it just feels like a marriage of two ideas that you’ve enjoyed both of those things so much,” Proctor says. “For me personally, when I look at a crossover that just succeeds so well, I just get so happy because someone else saw the thing that put those two things together and they made that real.”

With pop culture mashups, fans get to express themselves in a whole new way, and manufacturers and entertainment companies are taking note of the increasing fan demand and creative potential. The possibilities are limitless.

Source: The Pop Insider

(image via DeviantArt)

[diamondsnowflakes]

Dress To Impress

So I wrote a oneshot for a fandom I’m not in anymore. It’s inspired by fanart by @un1-wh0re. Have fun!

Archive Of Our Own Link

“Stay still, it will only hurt more if you move,” Maria Lewis’s voice rang through the apartment she shared with her girlfriend, Eliza. “I’m serious, don’t!”

“But it hurts!” Groaned the reply from a very unlucky John Laurens, who stood in the middle of Maria’s living room being laced up into a decadent red ballgown.

If you’re wondering how this situation arose, you’re maybe more unlucky than Laurens, because it is simultaneously very strange and very regular. Before we get into it, I’m warning you that, if you haven’t read the tags, you should read them now and back out while you still can, because Maria and John got very bored, and when people get bored they get stupid ideas that only ever seem to end in pain and suffering.

You see, the two friends ended up with a free day from college and, without either of their partners or any of their friends due to get out of class for a couple of hours and no homework due, they had no responsibilities, or at least none except for the college drama club’s latest production, Les Mis. Both Maria and Laurens were cast as extras, participating so they could try to see the same beauty in theatre that their friends and respective partners did. This meant that they both had a couple of costumes, costumes which had already been given out to them, as the production’s first showing was being held the next week and there wasn’t room for all the costumes in the tiny costume cupboard provided backstage in the school’s auditorium.

John and Maria had started the day off watching television, going down social media, and generally relaxing in the same way people usually do. It was normal, calming, and eventually got exceedingly boring, especially as the two were very active people, both of them often partaking in sports. As an answer to this boredom, Maria started trying to think of a way to pass the remaining time until anyone they knew would be free.

Suddenly Maria jumped up from her spot on the battered sofa, startling Laurens in the process. “I’VE GOT IT!”

Laurens jumped up as well. “Holy shit, what have you got?”

“We’re in my apartment alone, with lines to rehearse that we probably haven’t even started to memorise.”

“Yep, so?”

“So, we might as well rehearse, but with a twist,” Maria grinned evilly, eyes flickering towards the door to her and Eliza’s bedroom. “We should be in costume.”

John rolled his eyes, frowning slightly and crossing his arms. “That won’t work, I don’t have any of my costumes for a start.”

Maria’s evil grin only got wider at that. “Exactly! You can try on some of my costumes.”

The response Maria expected was very different to the response she got. She expected immediate backlash, a firm no, some kind of defiance. Instead Laurens shrugged and thought for a few minutes, tapping chin with his right forefinger, leaning his right arm on his left hand, which horizontal and palm-down across his middle.

After some time he nodded. “Okay, we can try it.”

“Brilliant!” Maria grinned, jumping slightly as she ran towards her bedroom. “Wait here and I’ll be back in a sec.”

Maria quickly disappeared, returning a few minutes later, carrying two very different bundles in her arms. One was bright red and had a silky look with ribbons spilling from it in a delicate waterfall of ruby. The other was a complex blue and cream uniform, too rough to be used in the same scene but old enough in style to be from the same era.

“Here, so we have the revolutionary’s soldier outfit and the marriage end scene outfit,” announced Maria, holding each bundle up slightly to show which one was which. “I’ll choose, because it was my idea and because Lex would absolutely die if he saw you in a gown.”

“Hey! You’re assuming he’ll see me, he still has class,” John pointed out, taking gown from Maria.

“You have a point,” Maria walked towards her bedroom again, still holding the soldier outfit. “One sec, hun, I’ll help you into your dress in a minute.”

A couple of minutes and Maria reappeared once again, this time with her hair tied up and wearing the soldier outfit and a stylish pair of black leather boots. It all fit perfectly and looked stunning. She speed-walked to John, Maria had found that running in new boots on the polished wooden floor was almost a death-sentence.

“Let’s do this.”

And this is where we left off, with a vexed Maria trying to lace up the gown she’d forced John into.

Jump to an hour later and Maria was still trying to finish lacing up the dress.

“Stay still, goddammit!”

“But it hurts and feels weeeeird!”

“Well stop wriggling so it can stop feeling weird then!”

It took one last wrench of the shiny satin ribbons and some quick handiwork to firmly lace up the dress, then a whole lot of waddling to get John to the full-length mirror in the bedroom.

As John was pushed in front of the looking glass, he found himself admiring the skill of his friend and the fashion students who had made the dress. He looked gorgeous in it. The skirt puffed out at the hips but had enough room under that it would’ve been easy to move in if not for the corset (‘well, it was made for Maria’) and, as he spun, the skirt spun out, giving a Disney Princess effect he adored. He paused at his back, admiring his butt for a moment, before he heard the front door creakily open.

“Maria? John?” a low voice called out. “Where are you?”

John was about to call out to reassure them, but that quickly turned into an objection as two pairs of footsteps approached the bedroom door and the handle started to turn.

“No, Alex don’t come in, I’m-“ But he was quickly cut off by a gasp.

“John you look… amazing.” Alex breathed, his eyes fixed on his partner.

John looked down at the floor, fidgeting. “Thank you.”

“Now, what were you gonna say?”

John startled and quickly muttered. “Umm… Nothing. Just… nothing.”

They stood there in silence for what seemed like hours before the person who stood behind Alex spoke up.

“Are you guys done? Because my very handsome girlfriend is standing right there and I would like to go greet her.”

“Sorry,” And Alex quickly moved towards John, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the room, as Eliza strode towards Maria in three quick steps before hugging her tightly.

Maria stood in shock for a minute before returning the embrace, her face red as a tomato. A minute passed before either of them said anything, then Maria pulled back.

“Not that I’m complaining,” She softly smiled, pushing a curl of hair behind her girlfriend’s ear. “But why am I getting hugged like I’ve just come back from a war?”

Eliza snuggled into Maria further before pulling away as well and grinning cheekily. “Because my girlfriend is very handsome as a soldier.”

Maria turned red again, and pulled Eliza back into the hug, burying her face into her girlfriend’s neck.

[isntthisenoughwhatwouldbeenough]

Time Will Take Them Away (Chapter 18)

A/N: SO long overdue! I’m so sorry! But here it is! I hope you enjoy! Also the song Eliza walks down the aisle to is a cover of I’m Gonna be by the Proclaimers covered by Sleeping At Last, and the song Alex and Eliza dance to is called Nothing Really Matters by Mr. Probz

Chapter 18

 8 months later…

 Eliza smiles as she places clips in Angie’s hair, pinning everything in place. She thinks about everything that lead to this moment and she couldn't be happier for her sister.

“There,” she says aloud as pins one last piece of hair in place. “Your hair is perfect.”

“Now, it’s my turn,” Peggy sing songs as she starts on Angie’s makeup.

Eliza busies herself with her own hair, while Peggy works on Angie. By the time she’s done so is Peggy. She gives a happy squeal as she looks at the finished product. Eliza walks over to look at her sister.

“Alright gorgeous,” Eliza grins, “dress time.”

“Finally,” Angelica breathes out. The two younger sisters giggle, before getting her dress ready. Once they have the dress on and done up. Angie looks at herself in the mirror.

“Wow,” she whispers out. “You guys really out did yourselves.”

“It's not that difficult to make you look good Ange,” Peggy says with a roll of her eyes. “You're already so beautiful.” She smiles tenderly and gives Angie a small squeeze.

“You're almost complete dearest,” Eliza walks up behind her. “We just need a finishing touch.” Eliza carefully places the veil on Angie’s head, careful not to mess all her hard work. “Perfect.”

“The prettiest bride we've ever seen.”

Eliza and Peggy are quick to dress, and get ready for their cue. The group gathered for the ceremony is small, both Angie and Church wanting a more intimate setting. Before they know it their dad is knocking on the door ready to walk Angie down the aisle.

Eliza and Peggy give her quick hugs, before walking down the aisle and taking their places at the altar. As Eliza slowly walks down, Alex can't take his eyes off her. She looks absolutely stunning in her lilac gown. Her hair is all the way down with one side pulled behind her ear. As she passes Alexander in the front row, a blush rises to her cheeks as he gives her a wink and mouths ‘You look stunning’.

Alex knows he should be paying attention to the ceremony, but he can't keep his eyes off of Eliza, his Betsey. The blush that rose to her cheeks every time their eyes met made him smile wide. The smile she gave him back made his heart jump. Eliza couldn't stop taking peaks at Alex during the ceremony, forcing herself to pay attention on her sisters special day. But there was a pull in her leading her straight to Alexander. She was itching to hold him, just to be close to him and from the looks he was giving her, he was feeling the same.

Before they knew it, Angie and Church were pledging themselves to each other and saying, ‘I do.’ Alexander wasted no time getting to his Betsey, once he knew it wouldn't be inappropriate. He made his way to her, instantly wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her close.

“I don't know what it is with me today, but its stronger than usual,” Alex softly speaks into her neck, placing a soft kiss there.

“What is?” She asks, pulling back to look at him, but keeping their bodies close.

“The pull,” he says simply. “I always feel it, but it’s a lot stronger today, my fingers were twitching from wanting to hold you so badly.”

“You can feel it to, huh?” She smiles softly and rests her head on his shoulder, placing a kiss on his chin.

“All the time, love,” his lips curl up as he replies, kissing her head, tenderly. “Only ever with you.”

“Alright, love birds, that’s enough,” Peggy walks up to the pair, her own lover by her side. “We still have a wedding going on, and the bridesmaids job isn't done yet. You two are lovesick puppies, I swear.”

Laf smiles, rubbing her shoulder and kissing her temple. She can't stop the smile that spreads her lips or the contented sigh that escapes her.

“You take one and I'll take the other, mon ange?” Laf asks her. She nods her head, smiling up at him, he squeezes her hand before getting Alex to come with him.

Alex gives Eliza one last squeeze and tender kiss, before leaving her side. Eliza turns back to Peggy expecting her to be annoyed, but sees her looking after Laf and a smirk rises to her lips. She walks over, Peggy still not taking notice.

“Looks like I'm not the only lovesick puppy here, huh?” Eliza asks, nudging her sisters side and wiggling her eyebrows.

“Shut up, Betsey.” Peggy replies with a roll of her eyes and sticking out her tongue. “Come on,” she lightly pushes Eliza, “we have pictures to take.”

~

A few hours later, after taking pictures a plenty and driving to the reception and eating quite a delicious meal, the reception is in full swing. Angie and Church share their first dance, holding each other close and swaying back and forth to Forever by Ben Harper. After the father daughter dance, the newly weds invited everyone to join them. The group danced together, the sisters pairing off and spinning around each other for a few songs, before returning to their significant others.

Just as Eliza returned to him a familiar song began to play as she spun into his arms.

“Hello there, my love,” he smiles at her adoringly, seeing the happiness shining in her eyes. He always wanted her to be this happy.

“Hello, darling,” she returns his smile, softly caressing his cheek. They stand holding each other close for a moment, before Alex leads her in a dance.

“She completes me, how she reads me, right or wrong. It’s so clear she's all that I need.”

He sings softly to her along with the song, resting his forehead against hers. They pull each other closer, as she rests her head on his shoulder.

“When I'm lost and need a sign, she leads the way and I'll be fine. Nothing really matters.”

“Nothing really matters,” she sings along with him, lifting her head and kissing him with gentle longing.

They sway together as the song ends.

“I can't wait to go home,” he whispers, lightly squeezing her.

“Its almost time,” she gives him a soft quick kiss.

A new song plays and the beat picks up. They have matching grins as he spins her around and they follow the new beat, their want momentarily calmed.

Soon it was time to throw the bouquet. To Alexander's very happy surprise it fell right into Eliza's hands. Her cheeks reddened as everyone cheered, and Angie winked at her. The festivities died down an hour later. Angie and Church were off to their honeymoon. Eliza and Peggy hug their sister goodbye, making her promise to take lots of pictures and to call as soon as they landed.

Alexander wraps his arms around Eliza, as they watch the newly weds drive off.

“You ready to go home, love?”

She turns in his arms, nodding her head emphatically. He chuckles and kisses her head, before taking her hand and leading her to the car.

 ~

They finally arrive home and he pauses before opening the door.

“Wait,” he turns with a grin. “You have to close your eyes.”

“What?” She asks him, giggling.

“I have a surprise for you,” he smiles, his voice gentle, yet excited. “Close your eyes.”

She playfully squints at him before shutting her eyes and reaching for his hand, a smile gracing her lips. He opens the door and slowly leads her into their shared apartment. They take a quite a few steps before he stops her.

“Okay, wait right,” he turns her slightly, “here.”

“Wait!” She laughs out when she feels his hand slip from hers. “Are you leaving me here?”

“Just wait there, love!” She swears his voice is distant. “And don't open your eyes!”

She doesn't get a chance to even consider it before he's at her side again.

“Okay,” he whispers in her ear. “Take this,” he places what feels like an envelope in her hand, “and when you're done reading it, come join me in the living room.”

“What?” She asks, utterly confused, as she opens her eyes.

“Read it, my love, it’s my latest one.”

Her eyebrows scrunch up in confusion as she looks down at the envelope. She lightly chuckles at what’s written on the front. Number 532. His latest love letter. She smiles as she opens it.

My dearest, Betsey, my only love,

How can I ever truly express just how much I love you? Shall I recite sonnets of your beauty, your unyielding kindness, your generous and loving heart? Shall I try to pen poems about how my heart races at the mention of your name, the sound of your voice, the softest touch of your hand. Shall I shout from the tops of buildings about how I can't go one day without you because I feel like a piece of me is missing. Or shall I write books about my dreams of you, my dreams of forever with you, anyway you'll have me. But, these are all just words. Words of truth and honesty, words I mean with every part of myself, but words mean nothing without action. I know you are the only person I want to be with…

Her breath catches as she reads those words, tears already running down her cheeks.

“Alex,” she gasps out, “are you"-

“Keep reading, my love,” she can hear the smile in his voice. “You're almost there.”

She turns back to the letter in her hands.

..for the rest of my life. You are my one true love, the person I am meant to be with. Time, my love, time and commitment, loyalty, is how I can show you that every word I've written is true. If you let me, I will spend the rest of my life showing you everyday, every good and bad day, that I am forever yours. I have something I'd like to ask you, my darling Betsey. I'm waiting for you.

She immediately turns, nearly sprinting to the living room, which really isn't that far. She comes to a halt as she sees Alex, down on one knee, candles lit around the living room and flower petals spelling out his question. She looks at him tears streaming down her face.

“My darling, my sweet Betsey, I love you so much I feel like I can't breathe sometimes.” She nods silently agreeing she feels the same. “I want to be everything you deserve and I think I'm making progress,” he jokes and he gets a soft chuckle from her. “More than anything I want to be your husband. I want to be the man by your side for every triumph and every stumble, I want to be by your side for every big moment and the small ones in between. I want to be yours forever, and I hope you want to be mine.”

He takes a deep breath, taking the ring from its velvet box and taking her hand in his. She smiles as she sees the tears shining in his eyes.

“Elizabeth Schuyler, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes, of course I will,” she smiles, tears streaming down her cheeks, as she jumps into his arms.

“Yes, yes, yes!” he laughs as he pulls her close and peppers her face with kisses, making her giggle as tries to kiss him back.

“Here, your ring.”

“My ring!” He smiles as he places it on her finger, she wiggles them and watches her ring sparkle.

“Do you like it?”

“Its beautiful, it’s perfect, all of this was.” His smile is just as big as hers as she falls into his arms. “I love you so much Alexander, more than anything in this world and I can't wait to be your wife.”

“Neither can I.”

She kisses him passionately, pouring all of her love into him. He kisses her back fervently, holding her close and gripping her tightly. They pull back breathless, resting their foreheads against each other.

“Please don't tell anyone I cried,” he whispers.

She laughs, lightly shaking her head. She pulls back to look at him, brushing away his tears. He moves to do the same.

“It'll be our little secret.”

~ * ~

1 year later…

 Eliza takes a deep breath as she prepares to walk down the aisle. She's waiting to walk into the room holding all her family and friends and the person she loves most in the entire world. She takes another deep breathe, in and out.

“Are you ready?” Angie inquires with a smile and gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Yep,” she grins as she nods at her sisters. “We both are.” She looks down at the small bump with a tender gaze and a gentle hand caressing her unborn child.

She had found out she was pregnant three months ago, which caused just bit of havoc when it came to her dress, but she couldn’t be happier and neither could Alexander.

.

.

“Are you sure, dearest?” Angelica asks over the phone.

“I don't know,” Eliza sighs. “I've been sick in the morning lately and Alexander said I should go to the doctor in case I have the flu or something, but then I started thinking, and I realized I missed a period or two..”

“TWO?” Angie nearly shouts. “Betsey, how did you not realize this sooner?”

“With all the wedding planning it just slipped my mind!” She defended herself, and a gasp escaped her lips as another thought popped into her head. “Ange, what about my dress?!”

“Don't worry, we'll figure something out.” Angie gently reassures. “Everything will be okay, dearest, and we don't even know if we have to worry yet. You still have to take the test.”

“Right,” she nods to herself. “Right, the test. I'll go pick one up.” She bites her lip feeling nervous. “Can you meet me here in 20?”

“Absolutely, see you in 20.”

Eliza hangs up the phone takes a deep breath and makes her way to the store. When she arrives back at her apartment, Angie is already there waiting, with a patient, warm smile.

“Let's see if we have anything to worry about,” she says, wrapping an arm around Eliza's shoulders.

They wait the three minutes and look expectantly, holding their breath. Eliza's eyes start to water when she sees the word pregnant nice and clear. Angie puts a soothing hand on her shoulder.

“I guess we do have something to worry about,” Angie jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“What am I going to do, Angie?!” Eliza gasps out as her tears overtake her.

“Betsey, calm down.” Angie grabs her shoulders,  holding her attention. “Don't you and Alex want kids?”

“Of course we do!” She nearly yells. “I just"- she takes a deep breath, “I just didn't think it would be this soon.”

“It’s a little unexpected and maybe not the best timing, but overall isn't this good news?”

“It’s the most beautiful news in the world,” Eliza agrees, a watery smile on her lips. “I just don't know how Alex will take it.”

Angie gently smiles looking at her sisters worried face. She grabs her hand in both of hers.

“Dearest, that man loves you more than anything in the world, he's going to be thrilled.”

“Yeah?” Eliza asks, still slightly worried.

“Absolutely.” Angie smiles warmly.

They both hear the front door open and close, before Alex's voice echoes through the apartment.

“Betsey, love, are you home?”

“Guess its time to find out,” Angie chuckles and gives her sister a reassuring smile.

Eliza nods, takes a deep breath and walks out of the bathroom to greet Alexander.

“I'm here, my darling,” she smiles brightly.

“There you are.” He smiles wide, embracing her right away, kissing her neck and cheek, before noticing Angelica. “Angie? What are you doing here?” He looks from her to Eliza confused.

“Nothing,” she shrugs, “just having a quick chat.” She turns to Eliza and gives her a hug. “See you later, Betsey.” She gives Alex a quick hug and leaves.

“Was there some secret wedding talk I'm not supposed to know about?” He inquires jokingly. “Because, as the groom I think I should be in the loop.” He wraps his arms around her waist.

She chuckles and leans into him.

“No, no secret wedding talk,” she pauses, caressing his cheek, “but there is a secret I have to tell you.”

“Is it a good secret?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

She giggles and shakes her head.

“Not that kind of secret, but I promise it’s a good secret.” She gently pulls away, interlocking their hands and leads him to their couch.

“Is everything okay, Betsey?” He wonders becoming anxious.

“Yes, I promise.” She assures him with a smile and a squeeze of her hand. “I just found out,” she pauses, taking a breath and looking into his expectant eyes. “I'm pregnant!”

“You're pregnant?! Like we're going to have a baby?”

She nods hesitantly, not able to read his face, until a huge breaks out across his face. Her smile matches his as she watches his excitement grow.

“Babe, we're going to have a baby!” He stands, pulling her up with him and into his arms.

“I know!” She laughs, as he kisses all over her face and neck, before finally reaching her lips in a passionate kiss. They pull away to catch their breath.

“We're going to have a baby,” he whispers, resting his forehead against hers. “A beautiful, beautiful baby.”

“Yes we are.”

 .

.

She was going to marry the man she loved and have a beautiful baby boy, Alexander was thrilled when they found out. She couldn’t wait.

“We’ll see out there, Betsey,” Peggy winks.

“You look beautiful dearest,” Angie kisses her cheek.

The music starts to play and her sisters take their place next to the groomsmen. She watches them exit, waiting for her turn to walk through the double doors and down the aisle. She wraps her hand around her fathers arm, as the words of the song filter through the room, signaling her turn.

When I wake up, oh I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you..

She takes slow careful steps to the love her life, his eyes only focused on her.

When I go out, yeah I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you…

She takes his breath away watching her walk towards him and the moment he sees her everything else disappears and just like in his heart, there is only her.

I would walk 500 miles and I would walk 500 more, just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down out your door..

She finally makes to him, he takes her hand eagerly. They smile at each other hardly noticing anyone around them. Their minister and friend Hercules has to clear his throat to gain their attention, making their guests laugh.

“This won't really work if you guys aren't paying attention, you know?”

“We're paying attention,” Eliza laughs. “I promise, Yoda.” She turns away from Alex, only a moment, to wink at him.

“Alright.” Hercules nods. “Dearly beloved, family and friends of Eliza and Alexander, we have gathered here today to finally see these two get married.” There's a light chuckle from their guests as Herc smiles and continues. “Now, these two have had their share of mishaps and rough patches, but through it all they found their way back to each other. And if you're as close to them as I am, you can see how much they truly love each other, in every look, every touch, and even in the way they speak to each other and about each other.”

“It has been a privilege to not only know them separately, but together. They challenge each other, support each other, and make each other better. They make a beautiful couple and I am truly honored to be the person marrying them today.” Herc and both of them, and gives them a wink. “Shall we get to the good part kids?”

With a nod of a reassurance from the bride and groom, he proceeds.

“Eliza, please recite your vows.”

“I, Elizabeth Schuyler, take you, Alexander Hamilton, to be my husband, my friend, my faithful partner and my true love from this day forward. In the presence our family and friends, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honor and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you, and to cherish you for as long as we both shall live.”

She slips the ring on his finger, and Herc doesn't miss a beat.

“Alexander, please recite your vows.”

I, Alexander Hamilton, take you, Elizabeth Schuyler, to be my wife, my friend, my faithful partner and my true love from this day forward. In the presence our family and friends, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honor and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you, and to cherish you for as long as we both shall live.”

Alex slips the ring on her finger with a proud smile.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Herc smiles wide at Alex as he says his last line. “You may now kiss the bride.”

“Finally,” Alex mutters as he pulls Eliza into his arms and kisses her passionately.

The crowd stands and cheers for the newly wed couple. They pull away, their foreheads resting against each other.

“We’re married,” she tells him in an excited whisper.

“We are,” he smiles at her. “And we’re going to have the greatest kid ever.” He rests a hand lightly over her stomach for a brief moment.

She giggles as she kisses him softly.

“Yes we are.”

Their eyes meet, love shining through at one another and they whisper the truest words in their hearts.

“I love you.”

[elizabethhamilton1780]

Hamliza 37?

Send me prompts!

List (x)

Alexander watched his girlfriend in dismay from his perch at the end of the bed. Clothes were flying everywhere. He himself was wearing one of his nicer suits, the material being a dark gray, his tie black. He never realized that she had as many clothes as she did. There was definitely some items that he’d never seen before. He peeked up with interest at the sight of something lacy, but before he could get a good look, she’d snatched it up. “How come I’ve never seen that before?” he pouted.

“Because those types of clothing are only for my side flings, babe.” Eliza’s sarcastic voice sounded from deep inside her wardrobe.

“Huh. You know, even joking about it hurts.” He rolled his eyes when he heard her laugh. “All this for just a stupid dinner party?”

Her head poked around the corner, her hair curled to perfection, a light purple smokey eye covering her lids. “Martha Washington is going to be there,” she said plainly, as if that explained it all.

“Well, yeah. She’s my boss’s wife. Wonderful person.”

“She’s like, the best person. She’s done so much, her charity helps organizations all over the country— soon to be all over the world. Our program wouldn’t even be able to function without her help. It’s because of her latest gala that we were able to finish the basement and take in those kids from the home in New Jersey,” Eliza gushed, the passion in her eyes about her job reminding him just how much he loved her.

Then, the sight of her slender frame in the fairly sheer slip she was wearing made him remember why else he loved her. He must have had a look on his face because she rolled her eyes and disappeared again. He could have sworn he heard her mumble something like ‘one track mind.’

“No, come on. I’ll help.” Admittedly, he didn’t really pay attention to a lot of what she wore. She always looked beautiful, whatever she wore. Unless her clothing choice was particularly risqué, or led to a particularly good night. Like that night the first weekend they spent away with each other, when they attended a wedding of one of his old friends from his law school days. Which reminded him… “What about the green one?”

“The green one?” he heard her shuffle around for a bit. “This one?” she showed him the dress.

He shifted a bit on the bed to see, nodding afterward. “Yes, that one.”

She examined the dress chiffon dress, a thoughtful expression on her face. The neckline was a a deep v, the straps criss crossing down her back. “I don’t know… You don’t think it’s too slutty?”

Alexander nearly choked from holding in his laughter. “Babe, nothing you own is slutty. In any way, shape or form. Even your lingerie is somewhat conservative.”

“Uh huh, because that stupid number I wore for your birthday was just so conservative,” her tone was dripping with sarcasm.

He shuddered as he relived the night that had happened just a few weeks ago. “Okay, besides that night. God, you’re so hot. Where is that, and could we perhaps break that out again tonight?”

“Well, sure, babe. But it’s your turn to wear it.” he could just hear the smile on her face.

“Oh, don’t think I won’t.” he threatened, standing up from his seat before he moved to stand by her in the cramped walk in closet. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing a few kisses along her jaw. “Wear the green one. It’s pretty, even if it is a little low cut.”

Eliza melted at his kisses as she always did, making Alexander smirk a bit. She hummed, hanging the dress back up on the rack. “Okay, but see, I think you’re judgement is a bit off. You probably want to see a lot more of me than the other guests do.”

“First off, I’m quite offended. My judgment is nothing but unbiased. And secondly, if my judgement was off, I’d remind you that you could always go nude.” he pointed out with one of his famous grins before he started to kiss at her neck.

She rolled her eyes, shrugging out of his arms. “Babe, all you’re doing is making me trust your judgment less and less. I’m really worried about this, I want to make a good impression.”

Alexander spun her around so they were face to face, maintaining serious eye contact with his girlfriend. “You are by far the most exquisite woman— no, person— that I have ever met in my entire life. You practically reek of kindness and generosity. You’re gorgeous and you’re classy, not to mention the fact that you have the patience of a saint. Martha is an excellent judge of character, she’s going to absolutely adore you. I promise. You could literally wear a nap sack and you would be the most stunning woman in the room.” he told her, her hands gently massaging her shoulders, his dark eyes soft, conveying the message that he so wholeheartedly believed in.

Eliza’s eyes shined and she pulled him into a deep, loving kiss that took his breath away. “I love you so much,” she told him afterwards, pecking his lips.

Alex smiled at her, his hands running down her back before he pulled away. “You know what? Wear the blue one. It looks beautiful on you.” He lifted the simple navy dress from the rack.

She took the hanger with a smile. “I met you in this dress, you do realize.”

“Makes it lucky, I think.”

“Well, I could use all the luck tonight,” Eliza sighed, adjusting the sleeve of the dress over the hanger.

“Hey,” Alex cupped her cheeks, pulling her into a single soft kiss. “You’re amazing and you need no luck.” Instead of answering, she kissed him again. He sighed a bit afterward, kissing the top of her head before pulling her into a tight hug. “Alright. Get dressed before I change my mind and keep you to myself tonight.”

Eliza chuckled, pulling out of his grip. “I love you. Thank you for being so patient with me.”

“Love you too.” Unable to resist, he pressed another kiss to lips, his hands starting to wander a bit. He pulled away when she swatted at his chest, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll go start the car.” He exited her closet, pausing in the doorway of her bedroom. “You know, I could just call and say—“

“Out,” she said exasperatedly, but Alex could hear her smile.

He shrugged on his coat and grabbed his keys, grinning like a fool the entire time.

Perhaps that dress was lucky.

[musicaltrashno1-blog]

ANGSTY AUGUST # 1: A LAMS FIC

Ansgty August #1: A Lams fic

A/N: Disclaimer: I actually really love Eliza so don’t come after me when you read this. Also I got carried the fuck away.

Word Count: 2853

“Alexander, we agreed on chrysanthemums,” Eliza huffed for the last time. They were standing in the middle of the flower shop arguing. For the second time this week.

“I thought we said hydrangeas, Elizabeth. Hydrangeas,” he said, running a hand through his hair. Eliza folded her arms and turned away. “We’re getting chrysanthemums. They’re classier,” she said.

He threw his hands up in the air. “Whatever!” He yelled. Alex went outside, taking deep breaths. God, she could be so irritable, he thought. They were getting married in exactly 2 weeks. And they weren’t close to ready.

They couldn’t decide on a hall to have the wedding party. She wanted to have the ceremony at a church while he wanted something in the outdoors. They were slowly realizing how little they had in common.

Alexander was losing his friends. Most of them said they weren’t even going to the wedding. The reason was absolutely ridiculous. That he and Eliza shouldn’t be married and they weren’t going to sit by and watch. That was ridiculous…wasn’t it?

Eliza came out of the flower shop at last. “Three hundred and twenty five chrysanthemums,” she said, cheerily. “At least one of us is happy,” he mumbled. “What?” She asked. He shook his head as he often found himself doing.

That night they were getting ready for bed. Eliza sat in front of her vanity, taking off her makeup and applying a dozen powders. “All my family’s coming to the wedding. How about yours? Not all of them have RSVP’d yet,” she said. He ignored her, shrugging off his shirt, changing into pajamas.

She turned around. “Alexander,” she said. He kept quiet. She stood up. “You need to stop ignoring me. Just because you’re upset about something doesn’t give you the excuse to shut down.” He suddenly snapped.

“Not everyone is you, Eliza! Not everyone can just flip the switch whenever they want!” He exclaimed. She huffed. “Don’t yell at me, Alexander! Don’t act like my life is perfect!” She yelled back. “Oh, my bad,” he said sarcastically. “It’s not like you grew up with a trust fund with billions of dollars in a mansion with a dozen butlers and being daddy’s little girl.”

She squinted at him. “Don’t play that card on me! Not today, Alex!” She dared. “You always get what you want so you’re happy. Well, shocker, Elizabeth, honey, I don’t always get what I want!” He yelled. “So I’m not what you want?” She asked, folding her arms.

He didn’t answer, staring at the wall blankly. “Then why are you even marrying me?” She exclaimed. “Oh, I know. Because I grew up with a trust fund with billions of dollars. That’s why.” He sighed. “You know, I really don’t know why I’m marrying you, Elizabeth,” he said softly.

She was quiet now. She sat back down and unpinned her hair, brushing it calmly. She scared him now. Her face was at peace as if without a care in the world. “We’re not calling off the wedding,” she said at last. He glanced at her.

“Millions of dollars went into this wedding. Hundreds of my people are coming. We’re not calling off this wedding. In twenty years, we can reevaluate,” she said. “You’re crazy,” he said in disbelief. “Maybe,” she shrugged.

“But think of it this way. When my father dies, you’ll get his home and every cent to his name.” He was quiet. “I don’t care about the money,” he said softly. And it was a lot of money. Just a quarter of it and he’d be set for the rest of his life with some to spare.

“Sure, you don’t,” she said, rolling her eyes. She stood up and climbed into the bed. She laid down on her side, closing her eyes. “You may sleep on the couch,” she said before falling asleep. He stared at her a second before scowling.

He grabbed a pillow and went into the living room. He laid on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. He was unhappy. He actually looked forward to going to work. At first when he met her she was quiet and conserved, sweet.

Not like Angelica, forward and confident, something he craved in a woman. And not like Peggy, weird and just, well, weird. He had wanted to go for Angelica in the beginning. But she seemed to keep pushing him onto Eliza. He took the message.

Eliza would gush to everyone about him, she’d come home and shower him in kisses and hugs. But she soon grew bitter and manipulative. She’d cry her way into getting what she wanted. Clearly he’d chosen the wrong sister.

He turned on his side and willed for sleep. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t help but feel something missing inside. Something burning. Something he wanted more. More than what Eliza could give him. More than what Angelica could give him. Something not there.

-

John was the only one who’d talk to Alex nowadays. He’d listen to his vents about Eliza. He was the only one who knew how unhappy he truly was. John was his closest friend.

Thomas would call every now and then but had sworn out of the groomsmen party. He didn’t particularly like Eliza. James was neutral at this point, hating any kind of conflict. Lafayette was completely set against the union of the two.

Aaron was Alexander’s mentor, not so much a friend. Hercules was on Lafayette’s side. That left John Laurens. The next morning Alexander would meet with John for breakfast. To talk and such as they always did.

He got showered and dressed and prepared to leave but he was stopped. “Where are you going?” She asked. He sighed. “To meet John,” he said annoyed. “I don’t like him,” she said distastefully. “Well, I do,” he said. “I don’t think you should hang around him. It’s bad for our image,” she went on.

“Well, I don’t care what you think,” he said. She huffed. “Besides we have more wedding planning to do,” she pointed out. “I’m sure you can handle it,” he said, crossing his arms. She rolled her eyes. “Well, I can’t make all the decisions,” she said. “You’ve been doing it just fine,” he said, slamming the door behind him.

He got in his car and drove to the local café where he and John would meet. John was already there with two cups of coffee. He grinned when he saw Alexander. Alex had always found John attractive. He didn’t think much of it. It was really undeniable.

John’s golden brown skin and tiny brown freckles. His big brown eyes and soft curly hair. He was almost like a puppy. Very innocent. “Hey, John,” he greeted. These were the few times in between when Alex would smile.

“So what’s going on?” John asked. Alex knew exactly what he meant. He sighed. “We had a huge argument last night,” Alex began. “What happened?” John leaned in. Whenever you were talking to John and he became interested or worried, he’d lean in.

“So basically we’re no longer together. But we’re getting married,” he said. John rolled his eyes. “That manipulative little–” he trailed off. He didn’t like cursing about women. “You two aren’t in love. This isn’t right.” Alex nodded. “I know. But she’s not having it,” he said.

John shook his head. “You’re not happy, Alex. Are you?” He asked softly. Alex looked around the café. The marriage was public, of course. Eliza was one of the most prestigious socialites there were. Everyone knew her and adored her and her sisters. Well, no one knew about that Peggy.

But you could never know who was listening. “No. I’m not happy,” Alex said softly. John looked at Alex worriedly. “You deserve happiness,” he said softly. “Do I?” Alex countered. John sighed. “You do,” he said. Alex looked up at John. John’s soft brown eyes. His freckles on his nose. How he could make Alex smile so easily.

Alex was in love with him. Holy shit, he thought. I’m in love with him. Alex pushed down the thought. He quickly looked away, blushing. “Wanna order something?” He said suddenly, grabbing a menu. John raised an eyebrow. “Sure,” he said uncertainly. Alex’s heart raced. He was in love with John. Something he’d never thought possible.

He’d always been interested in women. But something changed from the day he met John. He was in love with John Laurens. “Are you alright?” John asked suddenly. Alexander jumped. “Yes, I’m fine,” he said quickly. “Are you sure? Your face is turning red,” John said, touching his face lightly.

Alex jumped back. “I’m fine,” he snapped. He stood up and suddenly ran out. John sat there stunned. Everyone in the café looked at him and back at Alex, bolting down the block. All Alex could think about was the way John’s fingers felt on his cheek. The way his heart skipped when he looks in his eyes.

What’s wrong with me? He thought. Is this what actual love feels like? Alex got in his car and drove home, lost in his thoughts. Not only did he loathe the person he was engaged to, he was in love with his best friend. Nothing made sense anymore. He went inside, closing the door behind him.

“Eliza?” He called out. Silence. “Thank God,” he mumbled. He went into his study to think. That was also where he hid his vodka from Eliza. He sat back in his chair in silence. There was nothing he could do about his feelings. For starters, he was getting married. The press would eat up the news and spread it to the very ends of Europe.

Then there was the obvious. John would never love him back. Who could truly love Alexander? He was out of his mind. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Now that he felt it, it wouldn’t go away. Feelings didn’t exactly work like that. A voice shattered his thoughts and struck fear into the hearts of children across the world.

“Alexander, are you here?” Eliza yelled. “I saw your car!” He groaned. “I’m in my study!” He yelled back. She opened the door but didn’t walk in. This was the only place she gave Alexander to himself. “I thought you went to meet John?” she asked.

“I did,” he said quickly. “Why are you asking?” She rolled her eyes. “You’re so manic, Alexander,” she said. “So who’s coming to the wedding on your side? I need to know,” she went on. He sighed. “I’m not sure at this point,” he said. She shook her head.

“I’m getting seats for 360 people. No more. No less,” she said. “Whatever,” he shrugged. She sighed. “I don’t want this anymore than you do,” she said softly. He ignored her. “I think I loved you. I truly did,” she went on. She stood there awhile.

She didn’t say a word at first then spoke. “I hope you find someone. Someday,” she said softly before closing the door behind her. He sighed. “Me too,” he whispered.

-

A week passed with Alex avoiding John. Frankly, Alex avoided everyone. His fiancé, his friends, his family. He couldn’t be bothered. He kept holed up in his study or drowning his sorrows in coffee. One particular night, three days before the wedding, he didn’t sleep a wink.

He tossed and turned on the couch. He listened to the sound of crickets in the grass. When he first started dating with Eliza, they’d moved to the suburbs which meant he’d have to leave his New York City loft. He missed the sound of cars rushing by at night. The laughter on the streets. He missed his old life.

He suddenly got up and put on some clothes. He stumbled in the dark over his shoes. He didn’t exactly know what he was doing but in the car, it hit him. “What are you doing, Alex?” He mumbled. He turned around and went on back home but about halfway he went back around.

He stopped in front of the daunting apartment building and sighed. “Think about this, Alex,” he whispered to himself. He got out and rang the buzzer for apartment 3C. Laurens. He waited. The door buzzed. He went up three flights of stairs until he reached the door. He knocked on it.

The door opened to reveal a freckled, sleepy John. “What are you doing here, Alex?” He asked. He sighed. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “I couldn’t sleep and I just came here.” John stared at him. “Do you want to come in?” He asked. Alex shook his head. “No. I just need to say this,” he said sighing.

“I’m not happy, John,” he began. “Not with Eliza. Not with my life. Something’s missing. And to be honest, I didn’t know what it was for a long time.” John blinked a couple times. “Are you drunk?” He asked suddenly. Alex shook his head. “No. Let me finish,” he said.

“For a week, I’ve been dealing with this revelation. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. And now I know why. It’s you. I need closure,” he went on. John furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?” He asked confused. Alex sighed. “Why is this so hard to say? Damn it, John, I’m in love with you.

“I’ve been in love with you for the longest time and I didn’t admit it to myself until now. I love everything about you. You listen to me. You’re always there for me. You make me feel happier than anyone could ever make me. And I have to live with that for the rest of my life because I know there’s no way in hell you’d ever love me back.”

Alex sighed. John was quiet, staring at him. He couldn’t decipher his emotions. I ruined everything, Alex thought sadly. “I’m sorry,” Alex whispered. But he never finished. John was already kissing him. He pressed his lips to Alex’s, warm and gentle yet firm. Alex was surprised at first but soon fell into it.

They kissed for what seemed like forever until Alex broke off. “What’s wrong?” John asked worried. Alex smiled sadly. “I need to go,” he said, kissing John one last time before running downstairs. He ran to his car and sat in the seat for a while before starting the engine. He was in euphoria.

-

“Not gonna lie, that tux looks nice on you,” Lafayette said, combing his hair in the mirror next to Alex’s. Alex smiled. “And you said you weren’t coming to the wedding,” he pointed out. It was the dreaded wedding day. The groomsmen were getting ready in the back room of the church.

All except one. “Well, I couldn’t miss your first wedding. Trust me, I’ll be happy to go to your next,” Lafayette said. The men laughed. “Why are you doing this, Alex?” Thomas asked from his little corner in the back. He sighed. “I don’t know. But there’s no power in the world to stop this,” Alex said sadly.

“It’s a Schuyler Sister. What can you do?” James pointed out. Alex smiled sadly. The one person he’d wished the most to be there didn’t show up. No one mentioned it but it was definitely an elephant in the room. The wedding planner suddenly opened the door.

“Alex, it’s time,” she said. He stood up. “It’s showtime, boys,” he said. The church was packed to the last seat, some guests even standing in the back. It was hot and stuffy but nothing could cool down the room like the cold shoulder Mr Schuyler had given him.

Alex fidgeted at the end of the aisle despite the minister chastising him twice. The groomsmen were in place all except one. Alex sighed. What did he except? The musicians gave the cue, a tune as old as time. He watched as the bridesmaids came down, winking at Peggy just for the hell of it.

That’s when the marshmallow named Eliza came down the aisle. Her dress was about as big as her, flowing down in rows and rows of ruffles. He couldn’t lie. She still looked beautiful. He forced a smile as he took her hand. She stood across from her, looking near about to vomit from anxiety.

“Dearly, beloved,” the minister began. Alex drowned him out, willing to get this all over with. They exchanged the vows given to them. He didn’t mean a word of them. But neither did she. "If anyone has any reason to object to the union of this couple, speak now or forever hold your peace,” the minister began.

“I object!” A sudden voice from the back yelled. The church gasped. The minister nearly had a heart attack, as if he didn’t know what to do because it never actually happened. Eliza was horrified. Alexander was ecstatic. “John,” he said softly.

C L I F F H A N G E R !

[cjwritesfanfiction]

Letting Go

Summary: Alex struggles on Eliza’s wedding day.

Author’s note: Please don’t tag as Hamliza. In this fic, they are more like brother and sister :) ————————————————————————- Alex’s life was full of inconsistencies. This was especially true with the people in his life. His father left in the middle of the night when he was only 3. When he was 10, his mother died and he was put in the care of his uncle, who also died when he was a teenager. With nowhere else to go, he was put into the foster care system. Alex wasn’t exactly the child who his foster parents were expecting. He would throw things, lash out, throw temper tantrums causing tension in whatever house he was in. Every single foster parent had thrown him back into the system in a never ending cycle of trust and disappointment. Alex became depressed and his behavior worsened with every home he was put into. He counted down the days until he was 18 and responsible for himself. He felt like he didn’t deserve love or a family. This feeling put him into a manic state of depression, which evolved into insomnia and an unhealthy obsession with working.  Alex’s life was literally hell, that is, until he met Eliza Schuyler.

Alex met Eliza when he was 17 and she was 15. Philip Schuyler had agreed to take on Alex wanting to give the bright boy a family he could call his own. Alex showed up with a garbage bag with all of his belongings and a pen set his mother gave him for his fifth birthday. It was his most prized possession. The drop off was normal. Philip and the agent chatted for a bit before Philip showed him to his room. Alex threw his bag on the ground and he started to write in the half filled notebook he swiped from his last school. There was a knock on the door, and Alex looked up.

Eliza was standing there with the biggest smile on her face and a plate of cupcakes. She walked in explaining she made the cupcakes just for Alex when he arrived. Eliza accidentally stepped on his bag, and Alex screamed at her flipping the cupcakes over. The cupcakes flew in the air and landed face down on the floor. Eliza and Alex stared at the cupcakes for a solid five seconds in silence. Then, Eliza did something did something no one had ever done before. She apologized. She was the first person since Alex’s mother that had treated Alex as a person instead of an inconvince. She was the first person to show Alex she actually cared.

Eliza became a beacon of hope for Alex. She was the one who pulled Alex out of his depression. She was the one who made sure Alex ate and got enough sleep. And she was the reason Alex succeeded in life. So, on Eliza’s most important day, Alex was honored to be there for her. He was sitting outside of Eliza’s dressing room waiting for her to get ready while he thought about the past. Fishing trips, sneaking out to talk by the lake, helping her get ready for her first date- these things were important to Alex. But, these memories were nothing compared to the memory that would be today.

Finally, Eliza emerged from the dressing room. The white lacy fabric flowed down her body and waved down past her feet. Lace wrapped around her sleeves and made her fair skin glow in the light. Little hidden rhinestones glistened and her long hair was tied back in an elegant bun. Eliza was absolutely stunning. She smiled sheepishly at Alex and gave a little turn.

“How do I look?” She asked nervously. Alex smiled and stood up straightening his tux. He grabbed the small tiara off a stand next to his chair. He put it on her head and smiled cupping her cheek.

“You look absolutely gorgeous.  Don’t be so nervous. Today’s your big day.”

She smiled at him and held Alex’s hand to her cheek. “Thank you for being here today, Alex. I don’t know what I would do without you. It-it’s been hard since dad-” She trailed off. It was hard for Eliza to know that her father wouldn’t be the one to walk her down the eisle. Alex chuckled and wiped her tears with his thumb.

“Hey, now,” he murmered softly. “no more of that. Today is a happy day. Maria is a lucky woman to have you as her wife.”

Eliza laughed and wiped her eyes with a tissue. “You’re right. Dad would be proud.” Peggy came out and told them the wedding was starting. Alex and Eliza waited in silence as the bridesmaids and groomsmen (and women) walked down the eisle. First, it was Peggy amd Laf, the people who set Maria and Eliza up on their first date. Then, it was John and Herc. John had helped Maria propose and Herc had made both of their dresses. Finally, Martha and George walked Maria down the eisle, since they were the ones who helped get Maria out of her prior relationship. As they all walked, Alex thought about the future, one where Eliza would be happily married, one where Eliza and her wife would adopt children, one where the couple would grow old together happily…. Alex thought of a future where he would loose her.

“Alex, ready?” She asked with a small smile. Alex kissed her on the cheek and walked her down the eisle towards a future Alex was terrified of. Dread built up in his stomach as they walked towards Angelica, who would wed the couple. The stopped at the alter and for the first time in his life Alex was terrified.

The words Angelica said were deaf to him. Time stopped all together. But, when Eliza squeezed his hand, when he saw the happy tears in her eyes, when she whispered in his ear that he would never be pushed away or replaced, Alex knew he had to let her go…

[queenofallcorgis]

A Beautiful Lie and a Painful Truth [Chapter Six]

Summary: Frankenstein Inspired. All Phil wanted to do was help people. Instead he was the apprentice to an eccentric old doctor in smoggy old England. He didn’t expect the doctor to dig up a body. He certainly didn’t expect the body to wake up.

Warnings: Murder, character death (but it doesn’t last), violence, abuse, homophobia

Previous Chapters: (1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

Thompson was definitely more wary around Dan after the breakdown. He would preform his experiments which Dan would follow through mechanically, eyes blank and dull. Their days were filled with simple experiments which Thompson was thrilled at, gathering data for his presentation that he was determined to reveal at the world fair. “How could he prove that he brought me back?” Dan huffed out a laugh, nibbling on his meat pie. “It’s going to be the most disappointing show ever. ‘Look at this man I brought back from the dead! No…it isn’t a lie, he’s right here!’” Phil allowed himself a smile, looking down at his own meal. Ever since he started his apprenticeship he had been trapped in his madman’s small world. He never really allowed himself any little joy, something he found himself experiencing with Dan. The younger man’s dry wit and sarcasm often resulted in a smile. Phil wasn’t really sure but he thought that Dan smiled every time he got one from Phil. “I doubt he’s thought that far ahead.” “Unless he plans on killing me and bringing me back at the world fair,” Dan laughed again but his laughter turned harsh and his eyes flickered. The teasing feeling faded and he was left in a horrible silence. Would Thompson go that far? Would he possibly murder Dan? He would. That realization hit Phil so hard he went breathless. It was a miracle Dan came back the first time. It might not happen again…it probably wouldn’t. Thompson would kill him again. Maybe Dan would stay in death or maybe he would come back again. He probably wouldn’t make as remarkable of a recovery. “We’ll leave,” Phil felt dazed and Dan looked up, mouth still full. “Tonight…after the doctor goes to sleep we’ll leave. I’ll take you home.” “But…your mother…your family,” Dan stuttered out. “I won’t let him hurt you anymore. You won’t die,” Phil said shortly. A smile spread over Dan’s face until his eyes were bright. He reached forward to grab the man’s forearm and squeezed. “Phil, you are a true friend and a good man,” he whispered. “And I swear that I’ll make it up to you.” The next few hours passed in a painful stretch. Thompson preformed some more experiments, including a horrible one where he forced Dan to vomit up his food to test the contents and see how well his digestive system was working. It always left the young man in tears, gripping a bucket and dry heaving. “Transcribe my notes into the book,” Thompson waved his hand, walking up the stairs to his apartment. The door slammed shut and Phil finally let out a shaky breath. They continued to loiter and wait, wanting to be absolutely sure that the doctor was asleep before they left. Dan’s eyes were bright with fear as he watched Phil start to gather up his coat. “You don’t have to do this. You are risking your life and the life of your family.” “And if we stay he will kill you. It is a risk I am willing to take,” a strange look passed over Dan’s face and he reached over to rest his hand on Phil’s arm. “I won’t ever be able to make this up to you.” “You’re getting me out of this place. That is thanks enough to me,” Dan whispered and took the offered coat. They made their way out the room, only pausing to let Phil take one last look. He had started his apprenticeship wanting to help people, to do his best to save others. For the first time, he finally felt like he was doing it. They walked down the dark streets of London and Phil noticed that Dan looked terrified. How would he feel at returning to his family who thought he was dead? No doubt he was scared out his wits. If they weren’t outside in public Phil would have taken his hand but instead he just bumped their shoulders together. “They’ll be so happy to see you,” he whispered as they turned down the streets. Perfectly manicured lawns and streets surrounded them and he could see the recognition dawning in his eyes. When they reached the Howell house Dan completely froze, his eyes huge in fear. “I don’t know if I can do this.” “I’ll be here by your side remember?” A small smile spread across Phil’s face as he rang the bell. The door swung open to see the same sweet maid. Her eyes drifted from him to Dan and froze completely. The girl’s mouth dropped open and she stumbled a step back. “Oh…oh! Master Daniel,” she breathed. “How…oh…Lady! Lady Eliza!” Her shrieks probably woke up the whole household but Dan seemed too stunned to even move. Footsteps thudded through the house and Eliza appeared in a dressing gown at the top of the stairs, hair loose and wild around her shoulders. “What in heaven’s name is going on?” She gasped out, taking a few steps down. “You’re screaming like…” Then her voice faded and she stared just as blankly as he maid had. A few heartbeats passed before she practically flew down the steps and threw herself at Dan, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It can’t be,” she pulled back, staring at him before hugging him again. “But…but you were dead! I saw your body.” “I know,” Dan hugged her back after a beat. “I’m sorry. I am…I’m back. I’m home.” Tears flooded Eliza’s eyes and she stepped back, cupping his face in her hands. “You are home.” There was a long moment of them just staring at each other and it looked like love. If Phil hadn’t known the truth, the truth about Dan’s preferences, he would had thought they were falling in love all over again. Maybe…maybe with his memory lost he could fall in love with her. Maybe with all of this Dan could live a long happy life with a wife and children. Why did that thought make something unpleasant twist in Phil’s stomach. “Phil…he saved me. He brought me back,” in more way than one. Dan turned back to him, eyes bright and alive. “Then you have our greatest thanks,” Eliza’s voice was thick. “He has no home,” Dan continued. “He’ll stay with us.” “Of…of course,” Eliza nodded, pushing her hair back. “You are always welcome here.” Dan locked his eyes with Phil’s and he smiled brightly. He would do anything to keep Dan looking that happy. And that thought was enough to make Phil give pause. In those long nights helping Dan become himself again how had he really grown to know him. Helping him eat and speak, laughing at his little jokes and celebrating every success, made his feelings grow. He truly cared for Dan and that feeling was just now coming to light. But as long as he could get Dan to smile that wide, even if it was because he was pushing him into the arms of another, he would do it.

[enigmasalad]

The Broken Heart of John Laurens

(I was inspired by the song Congratulations by Blue October. If you havent heard the song or see the lyrics you will know why. Anyways enjoy! Also sorry for the spacing. its a habit for some reason.)

“Is that seat taken?”

John looked up and he almost fell over in surprise.

“Alex! Its been forever!” he exclaimed.

Alex just laughed and sat down next to him. It seemed forever since Alex left the college they both attended. Alex was still as handsome for ever and John remembered the few “occurrences” they had. They both were lonely and stupid but John never regretted it. His chest still fluttered from the memories.

“May I ask why you're at some women's' clothing store?” To be honest John forgot the name.

“You first.”

“Im trying to help Hercules get inspiration by taking pictures of clothing or something like that yet he asked a nurse for inspiration.” John said with a laugh.

Alex nodded in understanding and then looked towards the women's' changing room.

“Im waiting on my fiancee. Remember Eliza?” Alex said.

John's eyes widened and his chest felt like someone shot it. However he faked happiness and grinned.

“Oh congratulations! Im sure the best of woman will be the best of wives.” John said laughing slightly.

Alex smiled and then looked at his phone. A sigh left his mouth but he only smiled wider.

“Eliza is sending me to the smoothie shop in the mall. She'll be a while.” Alex said.

He then turned to John and held his hand out.

“Would you like to take a walk with me?”

As the months until the wedding turned into weeks John's chest threatened to collapse on itself. Herc and Laf were excited to learn their old  friend was getting married. They were even happy for John being the best man. Around his friends John would fake happiness and tell jokes when his heart would beg to stop. The four decided to get drunk together before the wedding. Not like a bachelors party but a hang out kind. Soon Alex had his pants on his head while doing an impression of an elephant and he forgot they were there. John thought it was too funny so he didn't let the shorter man know. Everything was going great until Herc said something.

“Y'know I always thought you would marry John yeah?”

Laf and Alex laughed and it seemed like a joke for everyone. Everyone but John. John pretended to laugh awkwardly but his eyes were watering. No one seemed to notice and Alex just patted a hand on John's back.

“We could fuck for old times sake. Heck you could join Eliza and I for our wedding night!” he said with an eyebrow waggle or something trying to be that.

“I-I'd rather not Alex.” John replied.

“But you're sho pretty!”

“Alex..”

John wanted to get out of Herc's apartment and go home. But everyone was laughing and Alex was insisting.

“You're still as pretty as we met Jack..” Alex said in a more lower voice that sent shivers down John's spine.

Alex slid a hand up John's thigh and that was enough.

“Alex I said no!” John said as he stood up suddenly.

“Geez are you cranky or ssshhomething?” Alex asked clearly trying to be funny.

“No. Im done ok? You left me on your own accord . You got engaged to Eliza. You dont get to do that anymore!” John said.

John could feel his tears sliding down.

“You left me.”

Laf then stood up and walked John into Herc's bedroom and held him as John sobbed and shouted into the Frenchman's chest. Laf was always a great friend and knew how to comfort others the right way.

“Shh....”

Eventually John fell asleep and when he woke up he was in the guest bedroom. His head hurt too much. Soon the memories of the previous night flooded back and John managed to hold back the tears. He got out of bed, got dressed and walked into the living room. Laf and Alex were sitting on the couch watching some sort of boring show.

“Good morning mon ami. There are omelettes on the counter over there.” Laf greeted with a smile.

John could see the slight sadness in Laf's eyes but he ignored it. He got his food and sat on the floor. The food was good but he hurt to much to appreciate it.

“We should do this again. I assume I blacked out because of my lack of memories.” Alex said.

“Im sure Eliza would hate us for getting you drunk like that again. You had your pants on your head.” John said with a cheeky grinn.

Alex said something like Don't patronize me boy. John  finished his food and said left early saying he had a lot of work to do at home. However when he went home he curled up in bed and sobbed until he passed out. He missed three texts and a call from Alex.

John helped Alex tie his green tie. Everyone was in a flurry for the wedding. Herc was helping the ladies with makeup, hair and dresses and Laf was assisting him since he was better at hair. John hated that he was alone with Alex. His chest was tight and the lump in his throat wouldn't leave. He feigned happiness though. He feigned it for Alex.

“Alrighty Mr. Groom! The tie has been tied.” John said slightly dramatically.

It made Alex laugh and John almost lost it there. He knew that laugh wouldn't be his ever again but he had to be strong. Thats when he noticed his hands were still on the other's chest. He quickly removed his hands and put them in his pockets.

“You look great man! You practically are the belle of the ball.” John said half sincere half teasing.

Alex's smile seemed strained and he just stared at John. Thats when he hugged John tightly. The two were very close. John only awkwardly hugged back. Tears threatened to fall.

“Im sorry for leaving you. Im sorry for never having the courage to officially ask you out. I-Just lately i've been thinking what would have happened if we got together.”

John held Alex closer and let a tear fall. Soon a tear became five and five became ten. John however managed to keep his voice from wavering.

“You would just be unhappy. You're marrying a smart, pretty and independent woman Alex. You are so lucky! I'm so happy for you. The both of you.”John said with what was left of his resolve.  

Alex smiled at him but you could tell he was still pained. Just then Herc knocked on the door.

“Alex it's time! You better be ready!”

The two separated and followed their friend to the chapel. The wedding went on without a hitch and Eliza was absolutely stunning. She lit up the whole place and John swore some blue birds dressed her instead of Angelica and Herc. There were tiny blue flowers in her hair and her dress was soft and flowed very nicely. She was the very definition of a bride. It made John happy and envious. The two exchanged rings, kissed and went to the reception hall with everyone else. John lagged behind and decided to just go sit in the parlor where he got Alex ready. Every emotion was pressing to be released but he had to hold on. He didn't want to ruin this for Alex.

“Aren't you going to join us mon ami?”

John looked up to see Laf walk over and sit next to him like the mom friend he was.

“I will in a bit. I just needed to answer a phone call.” he lied.

“John I know a broken heart when I see one.” Laf said seriously but not harshly.

Thats when John started to sniffle. The sniffle turned into a full blown sob. Wails and hiccups filled the room as John let everything out.

“I cant change this! I can never take it back! I can never change his mind and I cant take it! My pain wont cover up Laf!” he sobbed.

Laf just sat listening. John couldn't see through the  tears but he could tell his friend's face was of sorrow and remorse for the the other. John just let everything he built up over the months and years of being alone and heartbroken by the man he adored the most. The two sat there till the smaller man no longer shook with sobs and wails. John felt better and he felt numb but it was fine.

“Laf..I think im just gonna go for a drive. Can you give my speech to Alex? Just say something came up at the hospital and I had to go. Please?” John said as he handed over index cards to Laf.

“I will make sure he gets it. Please be safe John..” Laf said as he gave his friend a tight hug.

When the two separated and Laf made sure John left alright he returned to the reception hall when he was immediately bombarded with Alex.

“Where's John? Did you find him?” Alex asked worriedly.

“When I found him he had just gotten off of a phone call with the hospital. They needed him ASAP so he left. He's sorry and told me to give these to you.” Laf lied.

As Alex read the speech John was driving somewhere else. He eventually found himself in Central Park somehow and he sat down on a bench alone. He remembered this was where he and Alex first kissed. He smiled at the bittersweet memory and looked up at the tree branches above him.

“Make it go away.”

[thesestrangerthings]

THEATRE REVIEW: HAMILTON in Chicago; 6/24/17 matinee

CAST:

Alexander Hamilton: Miguel Cervantes

Eliza Hamilton: Ari Afsar

Aaron Burr: Daniel Breaker

Angelica Schuyler: Karen Olivo

George Washington: Jonathan Kirkland

Marquis de Lafayette/Thomas Jefferson: Chris De’Sean Lee

Hercules Mulligan/James Madison: Wallace Smith

John Laurens/Philip Hamilton: Malik Shabazz Kitchen (u/s)

Peggy Schuyler/Maria Reynolds: Candace Quarrels (u/s)

King George III: Alexander Gemignani

Philip Schuyler/James Reynolds/Doctor: Jean Godsend Floradin (u/s)

Samuel Seabury: Jose Amor

Charles Lee: John Michael Fiumara

George Eacker: Remmie Bourgeois

Ensemble: Jose Amor, Amber Ardolino, Remmie Bourgeois, Carl Clemons-Hopkins, John Michael Fiumara, Jean Godsend Floradin, Holly James, Dashi Mitchell, Justice Moore, Samantha Pollino, and Gabriella Sorrentino (swing).

HOW THE HECK I GOT HAMILTON TICKETS:

I’m only including this because the process of getting tickets was just as insane as seeing the show itself. This was the first time I’ve gotten to see 2 shows in under 2 weeks with the exception of when I was in NYC. I only had 3 nights in Chicago (a half day followed by two full days) and before I got there I didn’t even consider seeing Hamilton a possibility. I was there with my two sisters, my brother in law, and my parents, and had joked with my dad about getting tickets before but he had always shot it down. The first night we were in Chicago (Thursday) after driving all the way up from New Orleans, all of us except for my mom walked down to the PrivateBank Theatre to look at the marquee. I think my dad felt bad for my siblings and I because we had wanted to do a swamp tour in New Orleans but got rained out by tropical storm Cindy, so he said that one of us should go into the box office and ask about their policy for the standby line. The lady in the box office said that any remaining tickets would be sold for $180 at 10 a.m. on the day of the performance. When we walked back to our hotel, my dad said that he would be willing to pay for my siblings and I to see the show if we could get tickets the next morning at a reasonable price (no more than $180 each). We agreed that we would be willing to sit separated from one another since the probability of there being 4 seats together the day of the show was basically 0. 

So my dad walks down to the theatre at 7:30 on Friday morning to be the first in line and waits outside until the box office opens at 10:00. But when the box office actually opens, the guy there says that the remaining tickets will be sold at $350-$500 for the next hour and an unknown number of whatever ones are left will be sold for $180 at 11:00. So we wait there for ANOTHER hour only for the guy to tell us that “unfortunately” only one ticket will be sold at $180. We had already agreed that all of us or none of us would see the show, so the guy behind us in line got the $180 ticket.

So we’re all extremely disappointed as we walk back to the hotel. All 6 of us enter the lottery since it’s digital but we know that we shouldn’t spend any more time of our one weekend in Chicago trying to get tickets that we might not even be able to get (we live 11 hours from Chicago so I won’t be going back any time soon). We’re all still hoping that we’ll magically be able to get tickets somehow though, so my older sister gets on Ticketmaster for the millionth time and looks at availability for the Saturday matinee. And by some miracle, there are 4 resale seats all together for $177 each and we manage to snag them. They were limited view (at the edge of the dress circle right next to the boxes), but they were still better seats than I could ever hope to get for Hamilton. They were as close to the stage as the fourth or fifth row of the orchestra and the only times I could see was when actors were on the right balcony. Not to mention that I had multiple speakers right next to me. :)

REVIEW:

I’m not sure what to include about the show itself because literally every second of it was astounding. I was in shock the entire time that I was even getting to see it in person (I’m still in shock) and everything was perfect. My heart was pounding so fast when the lights went down at the start of the show and King George gave the speech about keeping your phones off. 

Miguel Cervantes was AMAZING as Hamilton. He was an excellent rapper and singer and his Hamilton was so savage. He nailed all of the comical moments and made him his own (he squealed higher than I thought a man physically could on “I was chosen for the Constitutional CONVEEEENTION”) and even added in some funny moments that aren’t prominent in the cast album (“Let’s gooooo”). He was charming (”Helpless”), tender (”Dear Theodosia” and “Best of Wives and Best of Women”), utterly savage/salty (he mocks Burr on the line “You get nothing if you wait for it, wait for it”), fierce (”Hurricane”), and heartbreaking (”Stay Alive Reprise,” “It’s Quiet Uptown,” and “The World was Wide Enough”) at all the right moments. If I had to choose a favorite cast member it would probably be him.

Karen Olivo’s “Satisfied” was so much more emotional than I expected it to be. She sang the final “May you always be satisfied” very quietly instead of with her usual riffs (whether she was under the weather or not I don’t know), but that made it even more heartbreaking. There were a couple of ushers trash talking her outside the theatre after the show and I kind of wanted to punch them. 

I had heard some negative reviews about Ariana Afsar as Eliza when the show opened back in the fall, but she must have improved since then because she was quite stunning as Eliza and just as vocally strong as the rest of the cast (She had some amazing riffs during “Helpless” and gave an amazing “Burn” as well). 

Jonathan Kirkland as George Washington and Daniel Breaker as Aaron Burr were everything that I wanted them to be as their respective characters. It’s obviously hard to beat Chris Jackson and Leslie Odom Jr. but neither of these men had a single moment in the show that left me underwhelmed. “One Last Time,” “Wait for It” and “The Room Where it Happens” were the showstopping, belty masterpieces that I wanted them to be. 

Another cast member who stood out a lot was Chris Lee as Thomas Jefferson. On the cast album I much prefer Hamilton to Jefferson, but Lee was so charismatic and energetic as Jefferson that I couldn’t dislike him. The Cabinet Battles were so much fun because Cervantes and Lee were both so savage towards each other. Lee definitely gave an amazing, standout performance.

It was a ton of fun to see Wallace Smith as Mulligan and Madison because I saw him as Enjolras in Les Mis on Broadway two years ago. He had a voice of gold as Enjolras but was suited just as well for Mulligan/Madison even though the two roles are very different. He has a very distinguishable accent in Hamilton which allows him to stand out in the part. Candace Quarrels had a very rich voice as Maria Reynolds and Malik Shabazz Kitchen pulled off the 9 year old kid thing very well. Alex Gemignani was hilarious as King George and I loved that he made a point to emphasize the “da da da da die.” His “Awesome, Wow” was also perfect.

There’s an infinite amount of things I could say about everyone in this cast because there really wasn’t a moment in the show that was anything less than awesome.

I definitely thought the cast deserved standing ovations for several numbers but sadly the curtain call was the only time they got one (Kirkland riffed the crap out of “One Last Time” and got an average applause for it and I’m still salty). The only time the audience clapped during a number was during “Yorktown” but my siblings and I were cheering and clapping so loudly after every song. I couldn’t stop grinning at parts when the whole ensemble came in and it got really loud like “Alexander Hamilton,” “My Shot,” “Yorktown,” “Non Stop,” and “The Room Where it Happens.” I was worried that “Non Stop” would be lackluster in person but it was just as epic as on the cast album and I was so happy about it. :) The choreography in the entire show was absolutely mind boggling despite the fact that I’ve seen a ton of clips of it. The ensemble alone deserves unending praise and awards. We got to meet John Michael Fiamura (Charles Lee) at the stage door and he was very nice. Sadly no one else came out since it was a two show day.  

But yeah, there’s basically an infinite amount of good things I could say about this show and this cast. I’m so grateful that I didn’t have to sell my soul to the devil or sell a kidney to afford to see it. If you get the chance to go, definitely do it!

[mollymauk-teafleak]

The Seal Lullaby: Chapter 4

Next chapter is live! 

Thanks so much to @minky-for-short @childofdustandashes @purearcticfire Also, huge huge huge thanks to @brainypaperbullets @hollywoodx4 @arya-durin-77 for their amazing art, fantastically kind reviews and much needed support.

Feedback and comments would really mean the world, hope you enjoy!

Eliza had never been so happy to be exhausted.

She always looked forward to the walk from the tiny little bungalow that served the town’s elementary schoolers to her home. It gave her a chance to relax her mind after a busy day, wave hello and exchange pleasantries with the people she passed, remind herself just how beautiful this place was.

The dusk was gathering tonight as she strode along and she found herself immeasurably glad she’d remembered her scarf and gloves. As nice as summer had been, late November was proving to be a different kettle of fish entirely; one of these mornings, Eliza was certain she’d wake up to frost on the ground. Her azaleas weren’t going to like that at all.

She pulled her collar up a little higher as the walk to her isolated little cottage exposed her to the open sea which was kicking out a ferocious, heavy, wet bluster that seemed to reach under every protective layer of clothing she had to raise goose bumps on her skin. If she got sick, she was going to be so miffed; she had so much fun stuff planned for her class for the holidays and really didn’t fancy dressing up like Rudolph on the last day of school or organising a times table themed chocolate coin treasure hunt with a stuffed-up nose and headache. She was already feeling much more worn out than usual, although that probably had more to do with having her first nine to five, Monday to Friday job ever.

But it was a tiredness she could be proud of and she wouldn’t trade it for anything. If this was the cost of having the tiny class of tiny third graders look at her with such trust and devotion, having all twelve of them (it was a small town, there weren’t that many children to speak of) hanging off her skirt at playtime, bringing her little sprigs of the rough lavender that grew along the edges of the yard which she dutifully tucked into her ponytail, coming to her when a particularly hard piece of homework had them feeling down on themselves for hugs and reassurance. It was a price she was more than willing to pay, she’d never felt so driven or invigorated about anything, she’d never been so sure that she was doing exactly what she’d been built for.

The instant embrace of warmth and a familiar cosy scent as soon as she pushed back the front door (it always jammed a little, you had to shove it hard with one shoulder) only strengthened her good mood.

“Babe?” she called, stripping off her sodden coat and wilting knitwear, speckled with raindrops that would hopefully dissipate in the heat, “I’m back.”

The fact that Alex wasn’t immediately hurrying out from wherever he’d tucked himself away, hugging her and demanding details about her day and covering her face in kisses and wrapping himself around her like a koala in an attempt to warm her back up, that was her first clue that something was up. Her second clue was the realisation that the fire wasn’t on, the smell of burning and the slight sooty haze in the air were actually coming from the kitchen. Her third clue was the smoke alarm suddenly flaring to life with a panicked, skittish beeping.

That was all the incentive she needed.

“Alex?” Eliza’s voice was significantly more panicked as she dashed into their poky kitchen to see her husband coughing and spluttering in a plume of black smoke that had apparently just poured from the opened oven.

“Oh, hey Betsey,” he croaked back, hacking into the back of his hand but still attempting a light, casual tone, “Did you have a good day at work?”

Eliza gaped at him, going to throw open the windows and grabbing a dishcloth to wave the smoke away, “Uh, fine? Thanks? What on earth are you trying to burn down our house for?”

“I…um…” he looked sheepish, his hands wringing behind his back as he took a step back to shamefacedly watch Eliza swoop in and quickly retrieve the source of the trouble; a baking dish that held something that looked more volcanic than edible.

“I…I was trying to make you dinner?” he confessed in a small voice, both of them looking in bewilderment at the blackened sludge in the dish.

“You…” Eliza processed this slowly, “And what exactly were you trying to make?”

Alex paused for a long time, looking at his feet, “Mac and cheese?”

There was another, heavy pause before Eliza couldn’t hold back any longer and burst out laughing, having to drop the culinary disaster and clutch the counter for support as tears that had nothing to do with the smoke in the air streamed down her face.

After a while, Alex couldn’t help but join in. There was something pretty hilarious about the situation, even he could see that.

Eliza was still chuckling even after the dish had been abandoned to the trash can outside and the open windows had taken care of most of the smog. The little glass window in the oven was probably always going to be stained black from now on but they could live with that.

“I really am sorry,” Alex said for the fiftieth time, though he was smiling. He was pulling out ingredients for his second attempt, this time with supervision, “I have no idea how I messed up that badly.”

“It’s okay,” Eliza insisted fondly, rubbing his arm as she passed by to get another mixing bowl, “it was so sweet of you to want to cook for me. You could have just waited though, I’d love to teach you how to cook?”

Alex shifted a little, looking coy, “But that’s not how it’s supposed to work.”

Eliza turned, giving him a careful glance, “Not how what’s supposed to work, exactly?”

Alex rubbed the back of his neck, getting some flour in his long, dark hair, “Well…I’m your mate, right? I’m supposed to provide for you, I’m supposed to get you food and shelter and all that. I thought, seeing as I can’t just go out and snag a fish in my jaws, this was the next best thing? Except I ruined it…”

Eliza tilted her head, a fond smile growing on her face. She wandered over to him, caught a little flour on one forefinger and dabbed it on the tip of his nose playfully, chasing away his forlorn expression.

“It’s a little different up here, Alex,” she smiled, “We’re a team, okay? We work together. Although…” she rose up on her tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his mouth, “It is incredibly sweet of you.”

Alex was blushing now, grinning goofily in that way she knew and loved, “Even though I nearly burned our house down?”

“Ah, what’s a little light arson in a marriage?” Eliza shrugged nonchalantly, grinning, “I’m sure most first time homeowners have to deal with a mild nuclear meltdown occurring in their oven?”

The sarcasm wasn’t lost on Alex, he was losing his explicitly literal nature, “I’m never living this down, am I?”

“Absolutely not,” Eliza kissed him again, already thinking of how she was going to retell this little escapade in the most exciting way in her next email to her sisters.

Alex kissed her back, winding his arms around her waist lovingly, anchoring her against him, drawing out every second of contact until they had to break apart for air.

“Come on,” now it was Eliza’s turn to blush and squirm under Alex’s intensely loving gaze, wriggling away to turn back to the scales, “You’ve got me hungry for mac and cheese now, show me what you can do.”

Eliza quickly saw where Alex had been going wrong, with the amount of times she had to stop him from just tipping an avalanche of salt into the sauce or remind him that water needed heat under it to boil. He apparently forgot after two seconds that there was a recipe he was supposed to be following and the instincts he followed instead were a little…misguided?

They had a lot of fun though, ending up with bright smiles and flour handprints scattered across their clothing (not to mention two matching ones on the seat of Alex’s jeans that Eliza crossed her heart and swore weren’t her doing), eating pasta from the dish set between the two of them on the table.

“This is really really good Alex!” Eliza made sure to shower him with compliments to soothe his bruised ego, “Honestly, it’s amazing.”

Alex gave her a rueful smile, suspecting what she was doing but not particularly minding, “I’ll get better. But this is an okay start.”

“Better than okay,” Eliza shook her head, spearing some more on her fork, she really was ravenous after working all day, “Perfect.”

He pulled a face at her, earning one right back until they both dissolved into giggles. They kept eating, chatting companionably.

“So…seeing as being a world-famous chef might be just a little bit out of your reach?” Eliza smiled teasingly, “Did you have any more thoughts about sending off your manuscript?”

Alex shifted, his cheeks reddening a little. It had taken weeks and weeks of persuasion and promises not to laugh for him to give over the pages he’d been scribbling on for a while now, whenever his wife was at work or on the frequent nights he couldn’t sleep. When Eliza had finally been allowed to read it, she’d been stunned.

It was like long form narrative poetry, something Joyce-esque with a shifting, mesmerising plot that could never really be nailed down, only in the most teasingly imperceptible way of a voyage and a struggle and a searching. He wrote the way he ran, the way he swam and sang to himself in the shower and made love to her. Like someone from another reality. It was so beautiful, there’d been tears in Eliza’s eyes by the time she’d finished.

Her father had a lot of friends in publishing, it made sense for a politician to have an in with the people who dispensed knowledge. The offer to send it to one of them, to see if they’d want to actually print it, was one of the first things that sprang to her mind. Alex had reacted with pleased embarrassment, books were things of real magic and power to him and the idea that he could produce one himself was absurd flattery. But Eliza had been perfectly serious, she was still perfectly serious, the stuff Alex wrote in just a month or so was the stuff people studied and students poured over for years. He’d eventually sighed and groaned and rolled his eyes but promised to think it over.

Now, he huffed in resignation, he’d been anticipating her bringing this up again, “I just don’t think that one’s good enough, maybe if I had time to write something different I could put more effort in…”

But Eliza had been anticipating this too, she knew her Alex well. He’d insist that it wasn’t ready, that he just needed more time, he just needed to tweak it, until they ended up never taking any steps forward. She opened her mouth, a firm but gentle argument ready and perched on her tongue but her stomach gave a sudden and violent lurch, turning it all into just a soft, anxious squeak.

“Eliza?” Alex said cautiously, not at all liking the way her expression suddenly fell and her skin took on this green tinge.

“God damn it,” Eliza groaned softly, a cold sweat breaking over her forehead as she dropped her fork and leapt to her feet, just about making it to the bathroom, heaving and retching into the toilet.

Alex’s heart dropped and he went after her, cursing himself. First, he’d created a miniature volcano, then he’d gone and poisoned his wife, he couldn’t fucking do anything right…

He was never much good with illness, it was hardly the biggest problem out there in the ocean, humans were much more fragile, but he did what he could, gently rubbing between Eliza’s shoulder blades and keeping the long trailing ends of her braids safe from harm. He murmured soft, sorrowful apologies as he helped her move gingerly until she was slumped against the wall, groaning.

“It’s not your fault,” she breathed, her voice trembling and weak, “I knew this damn weather would make me sick, I always get flu when it’s cold…”

Alex gave a mirthless laugh as he passed her a hastily poured glass of water, “And I bet you always get food poisoning when you eat food made by a complete moron.”

She gave him a look over the rim of the glass, warning him off. She never let him get away with any self-deprecating comment.

“I’m telling you, there’s nothing wrong with your food…the second time,” she made the amendment quietly and quickly, “You watch, next it’ll be a blocked nose then a headache, I’ll feel sorry for myself for a few days and then I’ll be totally fine.”

Alex still looked fretful, still holding her braid, toying with it anxiously. Eliza caught his hand in her own, squeezing reassuringly.

“Totally fine. I promise,” she gave him a rough, tired smile.

“Totally fine,” Alex echoed, nodding and trying to relax.

As it happened, they were both wrong.

-

“Wait I’m…what?”

The doctor on the other end of the phone was still talking but Eliza wasn’t hearing any of it. She’d thought they were calling to tell her that her tests came back completely fine, that it was just a nasty flu and she could just take some pills or whatever and clear it right up. That’s what she’d told Alex, at least, when he’d begun to seriously panic after about a week of her throwing up and not being able to get out of bed until midday and getting dizzy at odd moments. He’d been insufferable to the point that she’d gone to her appointment with the doctor’s, a generous handful of miles away from their isolated little fishing village, alone.

She could see him out of the corner of her eye, shifting anxiously on the sofa and watching her, studying her face. She realised her expression right now must be terrifying him but she just couldn’t change it.

The doctor kept saying that word in a gentle, understanding, congratulatory voice but every time she said it, it made less and less sense to Eliza. She just wanted her to stop talking really, go away and let her process this, the buzz of information was turning her neutral confusion into out and out panic. Finally, mercifully, she went, Eliza finding herself promising to come in the day after tomorrow for a follow up, nodding along at mentions of weights and measuring and plans and procedures, until she was left with a dial tone.

“What did they say?” the words were out of Alex’s mouth the second the phone slipped from Eliza’s ear to hang limply at her side.

“Um…” Eliza blinked, feeling very far away from her surroundings, the shock playing tricks with her perspective as it has a way of doing.

“Is it flu?” his voice was stained with panic that he was making no effort to hide, “Or iron deficiency? Stomach ulcers?”

Eliza sighed softly, coming over to sit by him, finding it easier to deal with his fright than her own shock, “Baby, I told you not to read those old medical journals, they’re a little grisly…”

Alex didn’t seem to notice the gentle rebuke, his hand scrambled like an injured bird to catch hold of hers, “Eliza, I’m scared, what did the doctor say?”

Eliza ran her thumb over his knuckles, trying to bring him back down. If he fell apart, she’d go right with him and then there’d be no hope.

“Alex, I’m not dying, I haven’t got a disease.” That much was true, anyway.

“Then what is it?” Alex let go of a little of his worry, just a little, he could still see the distress in her eyes as clear as day.

Eliza wasn’t quite sure how to phrase this, her mind was stalling and stuttering like the thought was too hot to pick up and she flinched away from it every time she touched it.

“You told me that there were…stories? Of people like us, Selkies and humans that bonded?” she spoke carefully, not letting go of his hand.

Alex blinked in confusion, sitting back on his heels. He rationalised that if Eliza was asking him about folktales and songs, then there couldn’t exactly be a disaster on the horizon.

“Yeah, there are some songs,” Alex nodded, shifting closer to her to rest his head on her shoulder, “I don’t know how true they are but that’s the only way my people pass on any kind of history.”

Some part of Eliza’s brain that hadn’t quite caught up with the rest of her wondered if that was why her husband had such a talent for writing, for constructing these amazing, epic poems that seemed almost tangible. It was what he was used to. Did Selkies trade around such beautiful lyrical verses like casual conversation? Eliza couldn’t even imagine it.

She swallowed, tucking her legs up so she was closer to him, “And…did they have happy endings? Those songs and the people in them?”

Alex frowned, “Not a lot of our stories do, sweetheart.”

That was the truth, a life spent avoiding predators and constantly facing starvation or destruction, a life of being hunted didn’t tend to produce happy fairy tales.

“Oh…” That wasn’t the answer she wanted and Alex could tell.

“Eliza?” he breathed, begging now, begging quietly for reassurance that she was okay because he was starting to seriously doubt that she was.

Eliza closed her eyes tight, shrinking down into herself a little, “Alex, were there…did they…”

He clung to her hand, sensing her slipping away.

“Were there children in those stories?”

The words jumped out of her once they were found, making her recoil a little, like they had physical force behind them.

Alex tilted his head, “Yes. In some of them…” Realisation sank in and his eyes widened, his jaw dropping a little.

Eliza faced down his gaze, her lower lip starting to tremble as the truth as yet unspoken struck both of them.

“You’re pregnant?” Alex, always the bravest with emotion despite the consequences, was the one who finally said it. It had a question mark at the end but it wasn’t a question. There was no doubt.

“Yes,” Eliza nodded, her mouth now downturned and shaking, tears creeping up on her with an unstoppable approach. She didn’t want to be crying. She didn’t want Alex to think this wasn’t what she wanted, it was, in some very real way it was. But at the same time, she was scared. God, damn it, she was terrified. She was twenty one and so far from home and everything she’d known up until this point, being faced with the idea that she could do something as raw and significant as have a child, that she had a whole other soul and life to take care of. She’d never been so scared in all her life and now what would Alex think when he saw her on the verge of sobbing at the discovery that they’d made a life together?

As it happened, what he did was he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against him so she felt nothing but his warmth and his strength and the pounding of his heart.

“Eliza, I love you,” he whispered, his words holding as much truth and power and beauty as she found in his writing, like he was pouring out his soul to her. Even more intense for the fact that it was held in four words rather than fourteen pages, like it obeyed the physical laws of force dissipated over a larger surface area.

And then she was crying, sobbing against his chest, dissolving and surrendering to her emotion but knowing now that it was okay. Alex was holding her, he’d bring her back once it was over. She was safe with him.

His long, careful fingers stroked her hair and his arms rocked her and his gentle voice murmured words in her ear as she cried her eyes out, asking nothing of her, just giving her space and security to deal with this. And when she was through to the other side, he just held her face and kissed the burning salt from her cheeks and rested his forehead against her own.

And Eliza felt like a different person. She felt like someone strong enough to do this. As long as there would always be those arms to hold her and that voice in her ear. As long as she had her mate, her Alex.

Eliza’s shaky hands left his shoulders and settled on her own belly. Of course, there was nothing there yet, nothing physical. But she felt the spark all the same, she felt the presence of someone reaching back.

“Betsey?” Alex murmured softly, daring to hope.

A slow smile spread across Eliza’s face, crinkling her red, bloodshot eyes and lifting her flushed, blotchy cheeks. And, as far as her husband was concerned, she’d never looked more beautiful.

“We’re going to be parents,” she laughed, a delighted and bewildered sound, “I’m going to have a baby, we’re going to be parents!”

Alex started to laugh too, his thumbs running along her cheekbones, “Yeah. Yeah, we are, you beautiful, gorgeous, perfect, amazing woman…”  

Eliza blushed under his praise and the messy, hurried kisses that followed, their lips crashing together with no finesse or care, their feelings too raw to bother about such things. Eliza tipped backwards, pulling Alex with her. She laughed, her voice rasping, as she stroked his hair while his kisses travelled down her body until his head rested over her stomach, resting his forehead against her skin like he’d done with her just moments ago. Saying his first hello to whoever was in there.

Alex smiled and closed his eyes, certain, despite all medical science, that he could hear a tiny second heartbeat under the more familiar thud of Eliza’s. A thought occurred to him in that moment, a thought he’d share with Eliza later as she braced herself to call her parents, as his fingers soothingly massaged her shoulders.

Selkie stories didn’t have happy endings.

But theirs would.

-

Eliza stood on the threshold of their cottage, stood on her tiptoes and waved, the wind whipping her dress and hair into a storm around her, but still she stayed until the car had crested the hill and dipped out of sight. Even then she lingered a little, until it got too cold and she couldn’t ignore the goose bumps rising on her skin, until she heard Alex’s voice calling her back. She gave a small, fond smile; he’d been agonising over her nearly constantly in an endearing, protective way.

Over them both, she thought to herself, her smile widening. Her hand gently skirted over the swell in her woollen dress.

Eliza came back inside and sat down heavily on the sofa with a bone deep sigh of relief, her head lolling back and her eyes closing. As glad as she was that the rift she’d opened in her family was completely healed, as happy as she was to have the chance to show them her new life that she’d build for herself and how comfortable she was now, she still was so, so glad they were gone.

That was family, she supposed.

Time, distance, Angelica and Peggy’s mediating and the fact that they had their first grandchild on the way, the combined weight of all these factors was enough to bring her parents down here for a visit. It had been a little stiff, a little awkward, some pointed questions had needed dodging but Eliza thought that only added to the success of it. Enough to satisfy them that she’d made the right decision but enough to make them keep their distance, to not feel the need to micromanage her life the way they did with Angelica (despite the fact that she didn’t need it) and Peggy (despite the fact that she didn’t listen). Her two sisters had come down too, made themselves invaluable as ever, acted as a buffer to soothe their parents’ fears and Eliza’s exasperation. But of course, what had really made the reconciliation an inevitability had been the sight of Eliza cradling her small but noticeable, fourth month old bump. Her parents melted instantly.

“You little miracle worker,” she murmured softly, not opening her eyes. She always felt that they could hear her better when she was focusing on nothing but the sensation of them under her fingers. Whenever Eliza talked to them- which was very, very often- she did it with closed eyes and a small, enigmatic smile.

She heard Alex’s footsteps coming down the rickety stairs, the sound of bare soles on uneven wood, his airy voice singing to himself under his breath. Music was another human concept he’d latched onto almost obsessively, though he claimed it was a little lacking compared to the kind of lyrics he’d heard before he walked on two legs. All the same, he treasured the vinyl record player she’d brought with them from Albany, he’d play a record over and over until he was sickened on it. For the last few days it was Edith Piaf who’d stolen his heart in particular. Eliza didn’t mind, she’d owned that box of records since she was fifteen, she loved every song in that box with a deep, nostalgic adoration. And she was finding the melancholy, the memories of lying on her bed as a teenager and finding solace in these songs, extremely comforting in her pregnancy.

Just yesterday, when the blues she couldn’t quite pinpoint or tangle her way out of had caught hold of her, the lowness and discomfort her doctor just shook her head and explained away as a normal symptom, Alex had known exactly what to do. He’d taken hold of her hands and pulled her into the kitchen, taking her around the floor in a kind of slow, careful waddling waltz that was all she could manage right now but it had brought Eliza back into the light in moments. They’d ended up making slow, gentle love against the wall with that gorgeous, lilting music still accompanying their movements and Eliza had ended up crying from the beauty of it, how happy she was.

And it left Alex always singing. That she loved more than anything. His voice lent itself well to song, it was raspy and it snapped in places and some notes wandered away but it was real and it had so much more feeling to it than she’d ever heard. She could listen to her Alex sing all day long.

She opened her eyes to watch him, laughing in amusement but not surprise when she saw he’d stripped right down to his boxers. He never was going to get the hang of clothes.

Eliza could almost actually see the stress and anxiety trail out of him, like ribbons of steam leaving a burning hot surface, she was so relieved. She knew having her whole family come to visit had been the most she’d ever asked of him. The weight of fabricating a whole life, a childhood spent in this town, running into Eliza at college, falling in love, a whirlwind proposal, having to keep all the little tics and habits that made him himself in check, hold himself awkwardly, like he was balancing a book on his head for the entire day, it had almost been too much. They’d had to pull away for an hour or so in the middle of the day, under the pretence of Eliza needing a nap, for her to just sit with his head in her lap, stroking his hair and rocking him, loving on him every way she knew how. She knew it made him feel like an outsider, to have to play this part. Talking art with her mother and listening to her father’s political rants he’d happily dispense to anyone who showed a passing interest, hiding so much of himself and who he was, it all just reminded him with a painful sharpness that he didn’t fit.

But he’d done it for her. And he’d done so well, her parents had gone from eyeing him distrustfully to shaking his hand and smiling warmly in the space of six hours, that in itself was no mean feat.  

Eliza poured every scrap of love she could find into the gaze she gave him as her weary husband came and knelt in the space between her legs, resting his head against her stomach and breathing in a sigh so deep it must have made his ribs ache.

“My brave, beautiful man,” Eliza cooed softly, bending over him, “My hero.”

Alex gave a small laugh, her voice tired, “That went well.”

“It went better than well, Alex, they loved you!” she praised him generously, knowing it would be like a balm on his raw anxiety, “They probably like you more than me! You had them laughing and you answered all their questions perfectly and…and, baby, I’m so proud of you…”

“I’m just glad it’s done,” he mumbled, catching her hand and pressing his lips to her palm, “If I’m allowed to say that.”

“Honey, I am right there with you,” Eliza reassured him with a gentle laugh, “That’s satisfied my desire to see my family for…the next twelve years, I’d say.”

Alex snickered along with her, the giggling, bubbling laughter of relief at the end of a long journey, as social batteries recharged and familiarity returned. He took his kisses over to her stomach, that had been the focus of his attentions recently, like it was the centre of his universe.

“Your daddy did pretty good, huh?” he grinned, his voice gentle, “Didn’t do a half bad job passing as human?”

Eliza laughed, Alex was as talkative with their unborn baby as he was with anyone. She loved it, actually, held onto the thought that their child would be born knowing their father’s voice like a precious coin. Like a lighthouse’s glare.

“You did amazingly, Alex, I can’t thank you enough,” Eliza answered for their little one.

He gave her a sleepy smile, looking proud of himself. And that was all Eliza could ever have asked for. That was part of loving someone so completely, she’d realised, having them love themselves being as necessary your own oxygen. Needing them to see and know everything amazing that made you love them.

“I have an idea,” she said quietly, grinning.

Alex tilted his head, quizzically, “Yeah?”

The only answer she gave him was to gingerly get to her feet, waving at him to stay put.

“Eliza?” he narrowed his eyes, “Baby, you shouldn’t be on your feet, c’mon, just tell me and I’ll do it…”

Eliza shot him a warning look, “Sweetheart, if you don’t calm down you’re going to have a heart attack before the baby even gets here. I can walk up stairs, okay? Now shush and stay put.”

Alex dropped back down onto his ass, scowling and folding his arms. A combination of the two things he hated the most, having his pregnant wife moving around when he could be fetching and carrying for her. And not knowing what was going on.

He sulked half-heartedly until he heard her soft voice coming from upstairs. He was up and moving in a heartbeat, only skidding to a halt when he pushed back their bedroom door and saw what she’d made for him.

This time he didn’t need prompting. He took her hand and pulled her into the blanket fort that was taking up most of the floor space, curling up with her gladly, back in the soft, warm glow of the place they’d both first discovered exactly what it was they had. This was one thing that hadn’t gotten away from them, however far they’d come in such a short space of time.

“Thank you, Eliza,” he sighed for the millionth time, his face happily buried in her hair.

“I thought you could use some space,” she replied with a satisfied smile, her eyes closed and her head pillowed on the lower part of his stomach so he could koala himself around her in the way he liked to do.

“I kind of did, yeah,” he laughed at the understatement, shaking his head a little at her canny.

Eliza’s smile turned a little wicked as she made up her mind that they’d been lying here cuddling for long enough, “I think I have something else you could use.”

Alex blinked in confusion, making a soft noise of perplexity, until he felt her hands pulling his boxers down his legs.

“Betsey…” he breathed, heat pooling in the base of his stomach as her warm breath touched the most intimate part of him.

The unpredictability of her hormones had given them both a lot of sleepless nights recently but Alex had rarely found himself on the receiving end. Not that he minded at all, he enjoyed giving as much as anything and felt so relieved to have a problem he knew and enjoyed fixing.

Eliza felt his hesitation as her hands rested on his hips. She looked up at him, her eyes catching the low light, “Alex? Sweetheart, we don’t have to, I just want to bring you back to yourself a little? I just want to make you feel good…”

What she really wanted was to show him how loved he was, human or not, how none of that mattered to her and what they’d been through today didn’t mean that fitting in with her family was a condition of her wanting to be with him. If her mother and father had taken one look at him and spat on the ground in disgust, it wouldn’t have changed a thing. It was nothing more than convenience; her love was tied to something much deeper and unshakable.

But that was a little too complicated to say. She just hoped it came across in the way she ran her fingers across his skin.

Alex answered with his hands tangling in her hair, a silent gesture of permission. By the time, Eliza was finished with him, after she’d broken him with her mouth, turned him around and put him back together, again with her mouth, they were exhausted. Sleep came easily, all worries and anxieties forgotten, replaced with closeness and warmth.

Alex and Eliza were finding that sometimes they didn’t need words.

-

Summer couldn’t come back around sooner for Eliza.

As much as she’d loved the months that had gone by, as fun as it had been introducing Alex to the concept of Christmas, celebrating the new year with the knowledge that one of the top publishers in New York city, a close personal friend of Senator Schuyler, had accepted Alex’s submission and already asked for more. Something about the concept of a reclusive, postmodern poet scribbling away his tomes in some salt burned corner of Oregon had a rustic magic to it that the intellectuals of the city couldn’t get enough of, positive reviews were flooding in. Alex didn’t have a clue what half of the words people used to describe his work meant but the advance cheque would easily cover the cost of a crib and paint for the nursery so, frankly, he couldn’t care less. And Eliza was proud of him.

As much as she loved spring, seeing her new flowers coming through and getting to feel the sun on her skin again and some blue return to the sky rather than near constant grey so monotonous that the clouds and the sea seemed to run into one, unending canvas.  Seeing the buds studding their careful, delicate trails across the open palms of the tree branches had broken her out of a day’s long slump and made her laugh for no reason other than flowers were beautiful and she was happy.

But Eliza found herself more than ready for summer. Not just for being free of work, of standing on her swollen ankles and fighting her instincts to do nothing all day but curl up and nap, but for the freedom of having nothing in the world to do but wait. She was unlike Alex in that way. While he was in a constant state of restless, impatient shifting, ticking the days off on the calendar, she was more than happy to enjoy the waiting. She’d always had the personal philosophy that there was nothing she could do to make time go faster, so it was much better just to watch it flow past at its own pace. There was comfort in the inevitability, the certain future. So, she was the one who chuckled affectionately and ruffled Alex’s hair and kissed the back of his neck, reminding him that the baby would come when they were ready and not before. He was the one who huffed and sighed exaggeratedly, more in performance than anything, whining about the infuriatingly long gestation periods for humans and groaning that he was going to explode if he had to wait another second. It was a fun, familiar little routine they had, resolving nothing between them.

Both of them were relieved when Eliza’s first day of vacation arrived, when they went to bed safe in the knowledge that they could stay there as long as they liked and not a damn thing could make them move. Despite their shared sleepiness, they stayed up late, making love in an almost defiant, celebratory way.

Eliza had discovered a deep, ravenous delight in watching Alex pleasure himself. She could lose herself in moments, in how his tight, lithe body rolled and rocked as if to music, how his hands moved like they had minds of their own, brushing lightly and teasing and palming before suddenly gripping and striking with enough force to make him shriek, seemingly without any command from Alex himself. He took such uncomplicated joy in performing for her, emphasising every single movement so she didn’t miss anything, making loud, exaggerated noises and throwing himself into it until his hair came loose and clung to his damp face, riding as many fingers as she instructed him while stroking himself off, moving with such wanton need but still denying himself if she asked it, only finishing on her express command. That night she worked him hard, repeatedly, until he was a mess and her own body was screaming for some attention, practically pouncing on him when she finally let herself go, gripping his shoulders and dragging him between her legs.

If Alex and Eliza hadn’t finally fallen asleep so exhausted and satisfied and happy, the storm would have woken them for sure; Alex wasn’t fond of storms and Eliza was a light sleeper these days. But, as it happened, they managed to sleep on for a few hours as the rain began beating its rapid tattoo against the windows and the wind started up its angry, robust howl and their little cottage swayed under the furious pacing of the storm around the bay.

What eventually woke Eliza was the sudden, sharp pressure against her skin, flinging her back into consciousness with a sensation not unlike she’d fallen from a great height and struck the ground with sickening force. She moaned groggily, shifting out of Alex’s arms, jolting him awake too, just in time to scream hoarsely as lightning turned their room into a negative of itself.

Eliza forgot her own discomfort in an instant, taking hold of Alex’s arms and snapping his gaze to her, “No, no, sweetheart, it’s okay, it’s only the storm…my love, it’s okay, you’re safe…”

Alex’s breathing was ragged and his eyes were fixed on the window, awash with so many raindrops they blurred into one solid sheet like melted glass. There was a rumble of thunder, partner to the lightning and he moaned, trembling.

“I don’t like storms, I don’t like storms, I don’t like storms,” the rapid, garbled chanting replaced his breathing, his fingers turned to white jointed claws in his tangle of hair.

Another burst from outside and the harsh, excruciating light fell across his angular face. And for the briefest of seconds his teeth looked longer and tapered to points, his eyes became solid black, there were shadows across his cheekbones that weren’t there before, sharp and predatory and…fearsome. Eliza actually withdrew, before her brain could pull her back, her hands flying from his shoulders to wrap around her swollen belly protectively. It was just how her body reacted.

The moment that drew out between them was sickening. Alex watching his wife flinch away from him in fear. Eliza seeing his fear and panic turning him into something neither of them recognised, her body betraying her. Eyes wide, hearts stopping, bile rising in throats. And a thought shared between the two of them; please god no, take it back, take it back…

Then Eliza doubled over, a sudden pinching sensation forcing another groan from her, sweat beading along her hairline and between her shoulder blades.

“Eliza?” Alex’s stomach went into freefall, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

And the moment was forgotten, it was gone, like it never happened. They both somehow knew it needed to be that way, letting it disintegrate with no protest. It wasn’t like either of them wanted to hang on to it.

“I’m fine,” she took deep, rapid breaths of air, running her hands over her skin, “They’re just kicking.”

“Are you sure?” Alex’s anxiety had taken a backseat, a little happy for something else to focus on even as his fretful father to be instincts went into overdrive, “What if it’s, y’know, it?”

“We still have about a month, baby,” Eliza tried not to sound like she was convincing him, stroking his bare arm and hoping the darkness hid how ashy her skin had turned, “They don’t have a whole lot of room in there and they mustn’t feel like sleeping- “

She was interrupted by another loud shout from the sky that seemed to shake the ground underneath their little home. And a beat later by another hard kick from the baby, a little too rough and sudden to let her hold back the pained yelp.

“Ow…” she whimpered, her eyes tightly closed.

Alex gave a small, worried croon, shuffling forward on his knees and placing shaky palms against her stomach, frowning a little at how hot and thin it felt, even more compared to his own cool skin.

“I…I don’t think they like the storm…” he murmured thoughtfully, vaguely, like the mechanics of his brain were still clicking even as he spoke, “I think they’re scared…”

Eliza’s bottom lip trembled, ache and exhaustion and tenderness bringing tears to her eyes. Her hands rested over Alex’s, the teardrops gradually dripping from her chin to dampen the outward curve of her nightdress, “Scared? Oh no, honey, it’s okay, please don’t be scared.”

All she got in response was another forceful kick that rattled her ribs; Alex had to catch her and gently ease her down onto her back, she couldn’t move herself until the crest of it had passed.

“I feel like this is my fault,” Alex’s eyes were wide and unhappy. His own reaction to the storm had been abandoned, all he cared about now was his child’s.

“Oh, Alex,” Eliza sighed softly, her voice trembling just a little.

“No, I mean it,” he looked so forlorn, like he’d reached an uncomfortable conclusion, as he carefully settled himself next to her with the tension of someone standing guard rather than going to sleep, “The…strength and the storm and everything…this is me, this is my half, they’re like this because of me…”

Eliza couldn’t hear any more, couldn’t see that expression on his face any more. She shushed him gently and reached out to take his face between her hands, like before, but less of a frantic snatch away from the edge and more of a gentle pull towards the warmth.

“Hey,” she whispered, her fingers resting over his lips, soft and split from the cold and the temperature of a pebble pulled from the shoreline.

“Hey,” he answered, recognising her little signal to ease his grip on what was bothering him, give her the chance to take it from him.

“You know what else our baby is going to get from you?” she tilted her head, eyes sparkling in the shifting light. The moonlight split into scattered handfuls of shards, held within her iris.

Alex shook his head, easing himself closer so Eliza could drag the duvet back over them from where his thrashing had sent it to the floor.

“Well,” she rested her head on his chest, “Personally? I hope they have your lovely thick eyelashes. I hope they get your wonderful tawny skin. Your smile that uses your whole face and makes the bridge of your nose wrinkle up. And your kind heart and your curiosity and your reckless capacity for love.”

Alex was the one crying now, his eyelids fluttering as tears beaded on his lashes, as his thin shoulders shook with a mix of giggles and snuffles. But Eliza knew, as she smiled tenderly and covered his face in kisses, he was okay again.

There was more thunder and more lightning, the seconds between them climbing as the storm’s anger dissipated but with each one there was a powerful lurch inside Eliza that left her trembling and breathing hard so she didn’t scare Alex even more. She had it under control now, it wasn’t the discomfort, it was the idea that her precious little cargo was frightened and there was nothing she could do about it.

“It’ll pass, the storms leaving sweetie, it’s going,” Eliza whispered, curling into Alex, trying to keep the hard roundness of their baby tucked safe between the warmth of its parents.

“I have an idea,” Alex had been unusually silent for a while, just holding her, kneading her lower back to try and help with the pressure, “Might not work but…if my weird ass genes caused the problem, I can maybe fix it.”

Eliza opened her mouth to shoot down his choice of words but he was gone, ducking under the quilt. She turned over a little, gingerly, shifting her significant weight, trying to figure out what his plan was exactly. He’d been caressing her stomach for the past ten minutes without it having it’s usual impact, what on earth was he doing?

Eliza froze as soon as she heard his voice, his gentle, quiet singing, muffled a little with the blankets and the racket outside but still sounding so clear as if it originated from inside her own chest. This was nothing from her old records, it wasn’t listed on the back of any dust jacket in that case, this was nothing from her world at all. The language he sang in was constructed for another set of vocal cords, another medium and another time. It was unmistakably a lullaby, it had the right texture and lilt, dropping to almost a whisper at the end of each verse and easing through the cadence, rocking and swelling in an expressive mimicry of the movement of a mother’s arms. Or the roll of the waves. Eliza didn’t understand the words but as she listened, images were painted upon her mind that hadn’t come from her, light refracted through green water and seaweed tracing a thoughtful dance in the current and a slight tipping of perspective, looking at the world through a different angle. Within the confines of Alex’s song, up was down, down was up, gravity was nothing more than a slight compression against a gentle floating sensation, sight was useless but the nose, ears, fingertips were alive.

It was haunting.

But the baby growing inside her settled within a few lines, the pinching and the pressure eased into a soft pattering as they searched for their father’s voice, finding his hands and placing their tiny palms against his own. Even as more thunder and more lightning rocked the cottage, their nameless little one was still, soothed into sleep. Before much longer the storm broke and the weather let go of whatever grudge had riled it, leaving nothing more than a slightly sullen rainfall. Alex let go of the song, it seemed to have no natural end but just left his throat to continue on somewhere else, out of their reach.

He kissed Eliza’s belly, murmuring, “You be nice to your mama, okay, try not to hurt her for me? You both need some sleep now. I love you.”

He resurfaced, expecting a kiss or at least a grateful smile, his own a little bashful. What he found, to the breaking of his heart, was Eliza’s face twisted in grief and pain, tears flowing down her heart shaped face, following the exact shadows that the rain and the moonlight were tracing on her skin.

“Eliza?” he breathed, reaching out for her.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked, twisting her eyes shut as if to hide from him what he’d already seen, “It’s not…I mean…”

Alex sat up, gently easing her over to him so her head was cradled against his chest, “You can tell me? Please?” He couldn’t help if he didn’t know.

So many times, in the past eight months he’d been forced to accept a truth that sat bitterly with him, that some problems Eliza had he just couldn’t take away. All he could do was nod and hold her while she cried over the unfairness of throwing up every single morning and having to pull six hour shifts with no coffee or being unable to doze on her stomach like she loved to do on lazy Saturday mornings while Alex read the paper and fed her bits of toast. Little things that didn’t seem to hold that much importance at first glance but still she wept and the fact that she was weeping over such apparently trivial things made her weep even harder. And Alex couldn’t do a damn thing to change it. And that stung him.

But this was something deeper.

“I’m n-not crying b-b-because they’re like you,” Eliza sobbed, her voice dripping with misery, “I swear I’m n-not. It’s just…”

Alex stiffened, letting her cling to his arm as her stomach kept her from throwing her arms around his middle.

“Then what, sweetheart?” He was getting the sense he wouldn’t like the answer.

“What if they…if they w-want to go?” Eliza wrenched the words out, dissolving into freshly agonised sobs at having spoken the words out loud.

Alex felt a chill as he realised what she meant. What if their baby was so much like him that they felt the same pull in their hearts that he felt every time the smell of salt caught in his nose or on his tongue or he heard the waves breaking on the shore, knowing just by sound alone which held the right currents to take him back. Back where was a question too vast to answer. Anywhere.

For Alex, the temptation was only ever brief, the old stale hunger for a drug he’d kicked long ago. The scent of Eliza’s hair or the brush of her fingertips on the back of his neck or the impossibly soft skin under the curve of her breasts chased it back down. Even when she was at work and he had the sea song caught in his head and there came that sly reminder from some part of his brain he didn’t fully control- his skin was just upstairs, the chest at the foot of their bed, it was right there- all he needed to do was find the diamond patterned sweater she’d been wearing all day yesterday and bury his nose in it, inhaling the smell of petrichor and garden soil and dew and flour, the scent of his mate. How could he want to be anywhere but here, by his beloved’s side?

There was no guarantee his child would feel the same.

What if they wanted to go? They baby Eliza had carried and formed with so much love, that Alex already adored with every scrap of himself without even seeing their face, what if they wanted the sea more than their parents?

“C-could they? I m-mean, they’d be half human, they won’t have a pelt, they couldn’t, could they? Alexander?” Eliza dug her nails into his arm in her desperation for comfort, silently imploring him to tell her she had nothing to worry about, their child would belong to the land.

“I…if they wanted it enough…” Alex’s throat felt half paralysed as he forced it to work, pushed away the desire to lie to his wife to preserve her feelings, “They’d get their sealskin from me.”

Eliza lifted her head to blink at him, her eyes confused, “What?”

Alex swallowed hard, “There’s a way. I’d cut them one. From my own.”

It would hurt, he knew that much. He’d never fully recover. But god, it would cost him more than just blood to do it.

“If they came and asked me, my love, I…I don’t know if I could say no,” he fought against tears of his own, “It would kill me, Betsey, of course it would but I couldn’t deny them it.”

“I understand,” Eliza rasped, miserably. She couldn’t resent him for that, she knew she couldn’t. At least, she tried so hard not to.

“I guess…Betsey, all we can do is just love them as much as we can and trust that they’ll make the right decision for them,” Alex sighed deeply, clutching her hand, “Look at the home we’ve made for them, the life we can give them…who could refuse this? Sure worked for me.”

The gentle attempt at humour earned him a watery smile. Eliza felt her weariness come flooding back, a wall of emotion that made her want to close her eyes and hide in the comfort of sleep. Alex was more than willing to provide, hugging her from behind, burying his face between her shoulder blades so she could rest in the safety of his arms. And it worked, in minutes her heavy eyelids closed to the world and she found peace.

But Eliza knew she’d discovered a fear that would live in some corner of her heart for the rest of her life.

[dontshootmespence]

My Shot

A/N: A request where the reader was a member of the BAU, but took a hiatus to pursue a lifelong dream, in this case, singing in a Broadway play (Hamilton). The team comes to see the show again near the end of her run, and she tells them that she’ll be coming back to work. @coveofmemories​

                                                             ----

Growing up, you’d had two passions in life, singing and law enforcement. Complete and total opposites - but you couldn’t help it. Those two passions had forever been emblazoned in your soul, but you’d always steered more toward law enforcement because the likelihood of a job in the field was more likely than striking it big in music. 

But one day, about nine months earlier, an old friend of yours, who’d always known how much you loved singing, asked if you wanted to try out for Hamilton: The Musical, because she could get you in for an audition. You figured why the fuck not. Since you loved to sing and never really got the chance to do it, you assumed this would be as close as you’d ever get to the music business - a Broadway try-out.

Much to your surprise, you got called for a second try-out, and then a final one. “Wait...you want me to play Eliza Hamilton?” you asked, the reality not actually sinking in. You would never get an opportunity like this again, but you worked full-time for the BAU - and you did love your job. 

The day you were offered the role, you asked them to give you a couple of days to think about. Thankfully, they did - giving you a deadline of three days later before they would offer it to the next person on the list. When you’d walked into the BAU to tell the team about where you’d been going on those nights they asked you to come to dinner and what had actually transpired, they were all ecstatic for you. “But what am I supposed to do?” you’d asked. “I’m a profiler with the BAU, not a Broadway singer.” Were you supposed to just up and leave? That didn’t feel right. But you also didn’t want to give up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

“Talk to Chief Strauss,” Hotch had suggested much to your surprise. “Ask her to liaise with us for the entirety of your run, that way you’re technically still employed and in what is it, six months, you can come back as long as you want to.”

“Really?” Everyone had nodded their heads, saying that if this was a passion for you, then you should try and find a way to make it happen; you’d regret it if you didn’t. And you would have. But thankfully, Chief Strauss had been okay with the idea, insisting she be invited to watch the show along with the rest of the team.

Fast forward to right now, five and a half months into your six-month run, and the team had been to see you twice already, and tonight they were coming for a third time. JJ was bringing Will and Henry (who’d never been before), Emily and Penelope would be there, Hotch would be bringing Jack (who’d also never seen it), Rossi would be bringing a cigar he could smoke during intermission, Derek would be there with his date for the night, and Spencer would be coming along with Chief Strauss in tow; her car had broken down and Spencer lived closest to her. 

Although you hadn’t heard much about the book or play before you tried out, you fell more in love with the musical every night you performed. The musical about the life of one of America’s founding fathers, Alexander Hamilton, transcended its time period, making valid points that still reflected the world you lived in today. And the music you got to sing, well, it was amazing. You’d always imagined that singing the same songs day in and day out would cause that feeling of elation to go away, but it still hadn’t left you. “Hello, my loves,” you said, dressed in your opening outfit as your friends got there early, as they had both times before. “Looking forward to seeing this for the third time?”

“Absolutely,” Garcia said, already looking like she was about to cry. After both performances, she’d done the fanning-your-face-so-your-makeup-doesn’t-run move, failing miserably both times to keep herself from looking like a raccoon. Spencer gave you a hug and a kiss on the cheek, something that had only started recently (making you wonder if seeing you in this new light made him feel differently toward you). By the time you’d given everyone a hug and kiss, thanking them for coming to see you yet again, it was nearly time to start, so you headed backstage, leaving them in the front row. 

As the show started, you danced backstage while waiting for your time to shine. After The Schuyler Sisters, Helpless was your next song. That one was always fun.

Grab my sister, and Whisper, “Yo, this One’s mine.”

My sister made her way across the room to you And I got nervous, thinking “What’s she gonna do?” She grabbed you by the arm, I’m thinkin’ “I’m through” Then you look back at me and suddenly I’m Helpless!

The show continued on, with you being ushered on and off stage with ease. At this point, after more than 100 shows, you knew exactly where you had to be and when. You even some of the lines that weren’t your own. Without a doubt, your favorite song to sing, was Burn - the song Eliza sang after finding out about Alexander’s betrayal.

I’m erasing myself from the narrative Let future historians wonder how Eliza Reacted when you broke her heart You have torn it all apart I am watching it Burn Watching it burn The world has no right to my heart The world has no place in our bed They don’t get to know what I said I’m burning the memories Burning the letters that might have redeemed you You forfeit all rights to my heart You forfeit the place in our bed You sleep in your office instead With only the memories Of when you were mine I hope that you burn

After finishing the song, you always received roaring applause, your team members the ones soaking in the most tears. It always warmed your heart to see how excited they were for you. Your heart would always feel lighter than air as you left the stage, and by the time the end came around, and you walked onto the stage to a standing ovation along with the rest of your cast, you’d be on cloud nine, insistent you’d never be able to come off it. “How are you all?” you asked, descending the stage stairs as you walked over to the team. Penelope was once again in full raccoon makeup, composing herself while everyone else gave you a hug. 

“Phenomenal once again,” Morgan said. “Who knew you had such rhythm?” He’d said the same thing the first two times, but apparently it still stunned him that you had rhythm.

“I did, you just never believed me.”

Emily stared toward the stage in awe. “I can’t believe how seamlessly you fit in with the BAU and here. It makes no sense. It’s so different.” 

“I’m just weird like that,” you replied. “It’s been amazing. They did actually offer to keep me here for another six-month run.”

“Really?” JJ said. “That’s amazing.”

It was flattering to have been offered, but you had already declined. You could tell your voice was starting to strain and didn’t want to crap out in the middle of another run, and more than that, you did miss your team and your job. Singing was a passion, probably your biggest one, but your job was who you were, and you didn’t want to be away from it any longer. “It is. And I’m flattered, but I already told them no. I miss you guys too much.”

“Thank god,” Penelope said hugging you, finally composed after her cry fest. “We’ve missed you too. Occasionally, you might have to sing for us though.”

“Deal.”

[ineverhadmyinternetphase]

Steal My Heart (steal my whole life too) 8/24

Genre: Chaptered, fantasy AU, Prince!Phil, Thief!Dan, romance, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff, slow burn (like serious slow burn)

Warnings: some violence, mentions of death (no main characters), dark magic, descriptions of wounds/blood, some hints of sexual scenes (but no actual smut), murder, dangerous situations, stealing/thievery

Summary: Captain of the Royal Guard and Prince of Morellia, Philip Lester has never been given the chance to find love. Instead, he’s run from a system that works to end class differences and improve equality for its citizens. Happy as he is to make the world a better place, Phil can’t help feeling bitter towards his ancestors for making it impossible for him to find someone who will actually love him for more than just his title, and strives instead for a life of justice and doing good - only to meet his match in the King of Thieves, a man who will change everything he once thought he knew in life. Together, they must depart on a quest to save the kingdom, and, in the process, destroy their differences and find their own form of love.

Word count: 240,000+

Updates: Sunday

Thanks so much to @botanistlester for betaing this giant monster, as she’s been super helpful and encouraging with her little comments and endless excitement. We couldn’t have done it without you <3

Disclaimer: In no way do I claim that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil

For reference, @snowbunnylester is Phil, @ineverhadmyinternetphase is Dan

Hey guys! Thank you so much for your really enthusiastic replies to our update last week. Again, we are so grateful to everyone who was so patient with us! I just wanted to drop in this time to let you guys know that I (Eliza) have had a url change recently! I was insanityplaysfics, but on tumblr I have changed my URL to @snowbunnylester, and I am considering changing my ao3 as well. Anyway, if you wanted to follow me there, I’d be happy to see you :)) Also, you can feel free to send me messages anytime! Also you can find Julia at @ineverhadmyinternetphase on tumblr too, feel free to message either of us if you ever want to ^_^

(Masterlist) (AO3)

Chapter Eight

Phil hardly got any sleep that night, and this time it wasn't due to thoughts of Dan or the pain still radiating hot in his chest. Instead, it was due to the fact that the minute he crawled into bed, he was being woken again by one of the cleaners telling Phil that his mother had insisted she wake up Phil to start getting ready for the wedding.

He was whisked away in his misery, then, to have his hair and makeup done all over again, the maids and other palace employees laughing and joking about how excited for the wedding they were as they worked on getting Phil and his nephews ready for the big day.

Phil, bored out of his mind, could only think of Dan.

The man had stolen his heart, officially. It felt like it was missing, even now, as he sat and remembered the way it had felt to be kissed for the very first time, the tender and gentle way Dan had touched him, plundered him, taken everything he had and given it all back three fold to Phil. He swallowed as he remembered the way it had made him feel, and how happy he'd been to be teased and made to laugh while stuck at that party last night. All he could think about was how much better life would be if Dan were always around, how much easier this wedding would be to survive if Dan were there to amuse him again, but there was no chance of that, and Phil knew it.

He might have ruined every last chance he would ever have with his first love last night, and he didn’t know what to do about that.

So instead, he allowed his makeup to be done to hide the deep circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep he'd been getting recently, and allowed his hair to be done up while he took a quiet nap. Once done with him, the girls who’d settled over his face all morning woke him sometime later to go and get dressed.

They put him in his brightest of finery; black pants that clung to his legs and made it difficult for him to walk, and his ornate, royal purple jacket with the cufflinks and the golden belt that would leave it cinched at his waist. The outfit was remarkably similar to the ones he wore to most royal functions, including the stag nights of past, but done up in even more splendor than the more “casual” ones. Every which way Phil moved, he could see gold glinting off of his jacket, and he hated it.

Once clothed, Phil managed to get himself used to moving about in starch pants once more, and headed back into the main hall where his mother was waiting for him.

He was expecting to stand at the back greeting people with an entourage of guests, but before he could so much as flag down the best of the best guards in the room, his mother was gripping his arm and whisking him off towards the King. Confused, but nevertheless ready to do whatever was asked of him, Phil followed suit as stoically as possible.

“Father,” he greeted, the second he was left in his presence. There were more maids hovering about him, fixing his cufflinks and his hair. He looked to have been in a recent fight, and Phil reached for the weapon that would normally be at his waist, but that wasn’t there. His brow furrowed.

“What’s going on?” he asked, confused.

The king merely shrugged.

“Your guard is lost without you,” he stated simply.

Growing flustered, Phil stood up taller. Knowing better than to make a scene, he leaned in close to his father before he began to speak.

“I told you I should have been left to my duties. What good am I as best man if my brother is left exposed to assassins?”

The king hardly batted an eyelash at his words.

“This is what the royals expect of you. Nevermind your captain status, you are prince, Philip. Now listen. I’m needed by the officiator, but your brother is in a state of distress. Pre-marital nerves, you know? Only, I think it’s much more than that,” he explained, reaching out to place a calming hand on Phil’s shoulder the moment that he tensed up. Hearing about his brother was not something that Phil wanted to do just then.

Bad enough he had to attend his stupid wedding, when he had a thief to catch.

Phil’s heart fluttered.

“Listen to me, Philip. Whatever problems you and your brother are facing right now, discard them. He needs you right now, more than he needs me or your mother or even Cornelia. Whatever is going on… fix it, before your brother goes up on that altar today and makes the worst mistake of his life.”

**

The Crown prince had been relegated to his rooms, as had the soon-to-be-princess, kept apart until the hour of their matrimony. There were pairs of guards walking up and down the halls like terrifying sentries whom Phil knew all too well, watching and guarding the two soon-to-be royal couple.

They let Phil pass without a word, until he was stood in front of his brother’s rooms with his head bowed and his hand pressed delicately over the doorknob.

It would be so easy to turn it and push in, to walk into his brother’s room and collapse onto his bed like old times; times when they didn’t have a care in the world. It used to be so simple, to be around his brother, but it wasn’t now.

Phil found himself hesitating just outside his door, something he once never would have done.

When had he and his brother become so distant, so afraid of each other’s words? It used to be so easy to fight even, with both men fully aware of each other’s good intent and love for each other, but now - now - everything just felt so raw.

And it hurt. It hurt nearly as much, almost more, than the hurt Phil felt in his heart for Dan, for his thief, the very person who’d come between he and his brother in the first place - but that wasn’t true, not really. It wasn’t Dan who’d come between them, but their own bullheadedness and duties in life.

They both had so much responsibility, in two very different ways, and it was hard.

Phil longed for the days of their childhood, when they’d been close and able to play like nothing else mattered in the world, the hardship of life a long way away.

He sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor, and wished, just for a moment, that the world could just - go back.

“I know you’re out there,” a voice suddenly said from inside, muffled and - ashamed. “Father told me - he told me you were on your way.”

Gaze snapping back up to the wood of the door in front of him, Phil swallowed thickly and nodded his head, despite knowing the fact that Martyn would not be able to see him.

“Yeah,” he eventually responded, and shook his head this time. “I’m here.”

Slowly, the door came open under the palm of his hand, and Phil let go of the doorknob as if had burnt him, looking up once more to find his brother stood in front of him, looking dashing as always.

There was a shy, unsure smile coating his features.

As Martyn stood back to let Phil in the room, Phil took in his ensemble; he wore similar starch pants to Phil, but his were white, rather than black, the same color as Cornelia’s wedding dress. He had a similar royal purple jacket on as well, but it was feathered in far more finery even than Phil’s, if that were possible, and he wore every mark of achievement on his chest as if he were the military man, and not Phil. The waist was cinched in the same golden belt as Phil’s.

He looked absolutely stunning, and as he stood back and did a slow, nervous twirl, Phil felt a lump beginning to form in his throat.

His brother was getting married.

“Well?” his brother asked after a brief pause, coming to a stop facing Phil once more. He still looked intensely nervous, but Phil wasn’t sure what he was more nervous about; Phil, or his about to be wedding. “How do I look?”

“Like an idiot who's about to get married,” Phil quipped back easily enough, melting into the easy familiarity of bantering with his brother.

Martyn snorted at him, smacking Phil on the chest in that same, playful manner they’d had since they were kids, though it felt almost awkward and strained, now, unlike how it used to be.

“Shut up, little brother,” he said. “One day you’ll find someone to love, and then you’ll understand.”

For a moment, they grinned at each other, and it was just like old times. For a moment, they were fine. Everything felt like it once had, like their entire lives hadn’t been flipped on their head in the last few months alone. For a moment, Phil could forget that his brother had threatened him, and Phil thought that maybe Martyn could forget that Phil had pulled a knife on him.

But then, of course, the spell broke, and Phil was left staring down at his older brother while Martyn’s brow crumpled and his jaw began to wobble.

“Phil,” he whispered, blinking away tears. Phil’s own easy grin from before began to fade. He felt his own brow crumple.

“Fuck,” Martyn said, and then, quite suddenly, he was stumbling forward and grasping his brother into a strong hug, his face pressed tight to Phil’s shoulder.

Phil could feel the tears dampening his stupid, royal purple jacket.  

“Fuck, Phil. Fuck, I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass,” his brother wept, the sound broken in the silence of the room.

All Phil could really do was clutch his brother back and whisper in his ear, “I know.”

**

The day of the wedding found Dan slyly stalking through the city, cloak on, hood up, as hidden as he could be in the middle of the day.

Even after his last meeting with Phil hadn’t ended… perfectly, Dan still hadn’t left the city. He was running the risk of being recognised with every new house he stole from, but he couldn’t just stop stealing - his black markets were relying on him, never mind the fact that he needed to feed himself somehow. The one good thing about the wedding was that Phil was too distracted to keep a good hold on his guards, and the security had become far more lax. It gave Dan more room to move - even if he did have to deal with a distinct lack of Phil in his life.

But that would change after the wedding. Dan was determined - he was going to the wedding, and he was going to show Phil just how miserable his life would be without Dan..

The streets were busy. All the official wedding guests were entering the palace through the proud central boulevard, which meant the streets were lined with hopeful citizens wanting to get a glimpse of the rich and higher classes who had flooded the capital for the royal wedding. Dan ignored them all - the guest he cared about was already in the palace, after all.

Memories of the last time he’d seen Phil were still there, ever present in the back of Dan’s mind, flooding his thoughts with images and interfering with his concentration levels. It was difficult to stay concealed among the crowd when every five seconds Dan found himself with a distracted smile on his face, staring off into the distance, thinking about Phil’s lips on his. It was the best kiss Dan had ever had, or ever given, and he found himself looking forward to it happening again.

If it ever would.

Things afterwards had turned sour again, and Dan was so frustrated with it. Every time he thought things were maybe going their way, that maybe the rules of the universe would bend just enough to allow Phil to be his, something else struck and tore them apart again. And now, here Dan was again, trapped outside the walls of the palace, a mere observer as the members of Phil’s world paraded around in front of them - a world to which Dan would never belong.

Dan had always detested people like this. Watching the large carriages parade through the streets, the giant doors at the main entrance of the palace thrown wide open to peek at just a hint of the grandeur inside, the grandeur Dan knew first-hand existed now. Dan stayed concealed among the crowds, hood low, just peering out at the guests who swarmed their way in.

Little did they know that he’d stolen at least one thing from just about all of these special high-class families.

Dan allowed himself a smirk at that thought. He fingered the inner pockets of his cloak, where he could feel his latest spoils wrapped up safely in the cloth, held still so they wouldn’t jingle as he walked. Nothing quite as fine as the bracelet he’d pressed into Phil’s hands, aside from perhaps that blue-green-gold ring he’d stolen so many weeks ago, the one that reminded him of Phil’s eyes.

Dan still kept that on his person at all times. Not that he was ever going to admit that to Phil himself.

Regardless, this entrance was far too well populated to risk slipping inside, even for Dan. There were guards stationed at every corner, the crowd was thick and noisy, and the proud rich guests were going through some kind of ceremony every time they entered the palace. No, it would be much easier for Dan to slip around the back and in through the servants’ entrance again, like he had last time - and wasn’t that odd, to remember a last time he’d been inside the palace.

But from there, it should be easy enough to make his way to the main hall, where Dan assumed the wedding would be. He’d witnessed the layout of the castle from his time among the rafters, and he’d been sure to memorise it. He should be able to get in fairly easily - most of the guards seemed to be out the front, and they’d been short-staffed what with their Captain Philip being so caught up with the wedding.

Another way Phil was making Dan’s life easier. He’d have to be sure to thank him.

Dan had been having doubts about attending the wedding all morning, knowing his mission was largely fruitless when Phil had made it clear he wouldn't accept Dan as he was, but the pull to Phil was impossible to resist. One last time. Dan would wait to see Phil one last time, and then he'd leave the capital and disappear back to his cave in the desert.

As he sidled in the servants’ quarters, it was to find everything in various amounts of chaos. Platters of food were balanced precariously everywhere in the vast kitchen, there were servants running along the corridors with harried expressions, and everyone had that slightly wild-eyed look that spoke of something big happening that no one was quite prepared for. Needless to say, no one noticed another addition to the crowd, especially not one hidden in a dark cloak.

It got slightly more difficult to remain hidden as Dan headed back into the richer parts of the castle. He ended up scaling up a wall again and becoming reacquainted with his old friends the rafters, scampering along them so he could observe the crowds from above. Most of the action seemed to be taking place near the main entrance, in the giant foyer. People were milling and chatting, everyone dressed up in so much finery it made Dan’s stomach curl. There were children starving right outside this palace, and yet no one apart from Phil even seemed to care.

But enough of that anger for now. Dan could yell at Phil about it once this ridiculous ordeal was over.

Phil wasn’t around here at all, though - the royals must be set up in the hall already, where the guests were being shown inside to find their seats. Dan debated trying to get through the doors for a while, but he’d have to come up with some kind of convoluted story, and he really didn’t want to attract too much attention when he was really not supposed to be here.

In the end, Dan clambered along the rafters and over the doorway until he was among the rafters in the roof of the great hall itself. He teetered high above the guests, but concentrated solely on getting himself safely down by carefully hoisting himself over to a pipe in the corner and scurrying down it as quietly as possible. Once his feet were safely on the ground, he made sure his hood was pulled low and quickly mingled in as much as he could, ducking away to find a seat near the back.

The room was filling up quickly, everyone chattering and sharing gossip. Dan heard a few snippets of conversation as he carefully maneuvered his way through the crowds, but his attention was really focused on finding the royals - or the one royal he really cared about. Dan settled into a row of seating behind a giant round jolly man, hidden away from sight, and peeked around to take a look at the front of the hall, where there was an altar set up and a few people gathered around it.

Martyn Lester was easy enough to spot - he was the one who was white as a sheet. Dan allowed himself a small sneer. He still wasn’t a fan of the Crown Prince, or any of the royals who weren’t Phil. The only time he ever wanted to talk to them was to gloat about how he’d corrupted their youngest son - even though Phil really wouldn’t approve of that.

Speaking of Phil - Dan would recognise him anywhere. Standing up by Martyn’s side, resplendent in his purple royal robes, one hand placed in comfort on his brother’s shoulder... Dan almost broke when he caught Phil's eye, he just looked… perfect. And entirely, entirely different from Dan.

Dan actually had to swallow, gathering himself together. Phil was the most beautiful person Dan had ever seen.

**

The ceremony was about to start. The crowds had been rushing inside of the castle since daybreak, and it was well past early dawn, now. The sun was making it’s quick ascent into the sky, midday rushing towards them. Phil and Martyn had only just arrived to the front of the main hall, stood proud and tall at the altar. The flower girls were giggling at the back, Phil could just about see them, and Cornelia’s mother was lecturing them with a tight lipped scowl. Martyn stood just in front of Phil, visibly shaking.

They didn’t speak, watching instead as the palace filled up with royal guests, lost to their own thoughts.

They’d made up in Martyn’s room, before the guards had come and retrieved them for the ceremony. Men, always, they hadn’t actually said much, but Martyn had touched Phil’s wrist and told him “I’m okay with it, you know? After what father said. Or, well, I’m trying to be.”

It had been enough, and while Phil had not said a word in response, he thought they both knew that was acceptance. The last thing Phil would ever do was confirm that the King of Thieves was his suitor, though, and whether or not Martyn would ever truly accept him, only time would tell.

It was fine though. It was good. This was progress, and with the promise from Martyn that he would do his best from now on to help Phil with all of his desired plans for the future of their kingdom, Phil thought they might actually be okay too.

So all that was left now, was to get through this wedding well and alive. They could do that, Phil was sure.

He watched the crowds as they continued to enter the main hall with the loudest of fanfare, names being rattled off to loud applause with every slow, painful entrance. It disgusted Phil, that these people were so high and mighty they needed their own moment of fame in the midst of Martyn’s wedding. It was customary, however, to highlight the guests of honor, however many there might be - and there were thousands.

Phil hadn’t honestly thought they would all fit in the main hall. Even now, as he glanced over the seats, he realized that they didn’t - not really. There was already nearly only standing room left, and - wait. There, in the near final row. Was that - ?

Dan?

Phil’s heart leapt into his throat, and he could feel it starting to race as a slow grin took over his features. He could feel himself brightening as Dan’s eyes met his. It was like the world had been righted once again. Dan had well and truly come to the wedding for Phil, he was sure of it.

When Phil turned and caught Dan's eye, Phil's entire face brightened. It felt like a punch to Dan's stomach. He wanted to make Phil look like that every day, to keep being a source of light in his life.

No, no thinking about the future. Dan was here to make things easier for Phil, and then he'd be gone.

So Dan tossed Phil his usual cheeky wink, and hunkered himself further down behind the large, round man he’d sat behind.

Slowly, as if he were a mere figment of Phil’s imagination, Dan smirked at him from behind a rather robust guest of the royal party, and winked at Phil. The expression was such a delight to Phil that he nearly laughed, and had to reach up to cover his mouth at the same time as he ducked his head. Dan had already disappeared behind the man’s body anyway; there was no familiar, welcome face to look at any longer.

“What are you giggling about?” Martyn hissed from in front of him.

Phil jumped, and cast him an apologetic glance.

“Sorry,” he whispered back.

Martyn was peering at him, his glance sidelong and suspicious. For a moment, Phil felt terror fill him. Had he made a mistake, not reacting to Martyn’s earlier promise, his earlier presumption that the King of Thieves truly was Phil’s courter? What would Martyn do, if he knew the King of Thieves was here, right now.

“Stop making eyes at your thief,” Martyn eventually added, his lips quirking nervously, eyes flitting away as he turned his body forwards once more. “This is my day.”

The sound that exploded from Phil’s chest was a surprised laugh that was nearly too loud, and he shoved his hand over his mouth once more, ducking his face to hide his expression of absolute glee.

“Sorry, I’ll do my best,” he promised Martyn, surprised when it made his brother chuckle as well.

“Of course he would be here,” Martyn muttered. Phil didn’t even have a chance to tense out of worry before his brother was turning to offer him another awkward smile. “I’m glad.”

The words made something like hope flutter through Phil’s chest, and before he knew it, he was smiling warmly back at his brother. For the first time since things had gone south these past few months, Phil felt like things might actually be okay. One day, they would rule together - Martyn the King, and Phil his right hand man, working to make their justice system just that little bit better.

They settled back in to wait for the wedding ceremony to begin.

**

The bells were ringing. The hall was at a low hush. Phil could see Martyn’s shoulders shaking.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, soft as ever.

The wedding march began.

Martyn shook his head.

“What’s wrong?”

Martyn didn’t respond.

“Do you not want to marry Cornelia anymore?” Phil asked, upset, and moving from his station to take a step down towards his brother.

This time, the head shake was more vehement.

The crowds weren’t watching the two of them, anymore. They were all turned to face the back of the main hall, where the flower girls had just started to prance into sight, skipping down the long, extended hall. Their flower petals began to scatter against the royal purple carpet as they moved, and the guests laughed.

Phil’s eyes searched the hall for anyone watching the front, and then he moved closer still to his brother. He dropped a steady hand onto his shoulder.

“Then what’s wrong?” he asked, quiet as ever.

The haunted look that Martyn turned on Phil sent a shiver of fear down his spine. Suddenly, he wished more than anything that he had his sword on him, even a dagger.

“I have a horrible feeling that something is going to go terribly wrong. Will you protect me, brother?”

Martyn’s voice was trembling.

Phil did not hesitate when he said, “Always.”

Cornelia appeared at the end of the hall, her head bowed, face covered with a veil, and a bouquet of beautiful flowers held aloft in her hands. Martyn went rigid underneath Phil’s touch. They shared one last look, Martyn offering Phil a wobbly smile.

“It’s - it’s all going to be fine, right?”

Phil nodded his head.

“I’m just worrying over nothing.”

Phil nodded again.

“Your guard will protect us. No one will get in.”

Phil offered Martyn a gentle smile.

“No one.”

But even as he said it, he promised himself to keep a lookout for danger. There was a guard nearby whose sword he could steal, if the need arose. He would play his part, the attentive best man regarding Martyn and Cornelia with nothing but pride, but he would be on the alert for any signs of danger.

**

For the majority of the ceremony, Dan alternated between playing with the ring on his finger and staring at Phil. Watching Phil was his favourite habit, though - watching him stare at Martyn with pride, the fondness with which he regarded Cornelia. And even to Dan, there was something… sweet about the ceremony, or at least the way Martyn and Cornelia looked at each other. It was hard to imagine that Martyn was the awful Crown Prince Dan had hated for so long when he looked so softly at Cornelia, who was veiled but lovely, her short hair the brightest colour amongst all the white of her dress.

That look they shared was full of unmistakable love, and it made something twist in Dan’s stomach. He cast a quick glance to Phil, who was standing there beside his brother all proud looking, those blue eyes of his shining with moisture. It would be just like Phil to cry at a wedding.

That something in Dan’s stomach twisted tighter.

These feelings were so difficult. Dan wasn’t used to this - wasn’t used to looking at someone and getting completely lost in their expression, or distracted by the way they smiled. He was staring, he knew it, and as such, he wasn’t as aware as he should have been.

So Dan didn’t notice of the darkness until it was too late.

It started with a chill - goosebumps running up Dan’s arms beneath the folds of his cloak, a tingle running down his spine. He gave the tiniest shiver, looking away from Phil for the shortest of moments, and that’s when he noticed the spots of darkness in the edge of his vision, the cackle of laughter that echoed from somewhere behind him.

Dan sat up straight. He recognised that cackle, and the dark power now thrumming through the hall accompanying the flicker of black that crawled around the edges of his sight. He recognised it all too well, and it made his stomach churn and his hand flicker down to the knife in his boot.

A witch.

A witch with dark magic.

The darkness was growing, descending on the hall like a cold sheet of fog and settling among the guests and royals alike. Dan was up on his feet in an instant, ignoring the startled murmurs from the people around him, instead straining to see the altar. The darkness was growing thicker, it was getting harder and harder to see, and Dan recognised this - he recognised this far too well.

He’d seen this before, and there was no way in hell he was letting this happen to Phil.

There was another loud cackle, and then something whooshed through the air right above them. Dan looked up to see the end of a broomstick, a flicker of a black cloak far too similar to his own, and then the witch was hovering right above the altar, right over Martyn and Cornelia - and Phil.

“Too late!” She cackled, pointing a single accusatory finger at Martyn. “You’re too late, you fool!”

Martyn looked pale, stricken, standing right over Cornelia and gripping tight to her hand. They hadn’t been able to say “I do”, hadn’t been officially married yet, and even though Dan didn’t care, he cared enough to not want this to happen.

He struggled to get through the crowd, pushing his way between sweaty, panicked voices, as he heard the witch cry, “You thought you could abandon me, Martyn Lester, but no! I have come to exact vengeance upon you, to cast your heart into darkness, just as you did to me. You will regret the day you ever met me!”

Martyn was backing up now, tugging on Cornelia’s wrist and shaking his head, but the witch pointed one finger at him and he fell with a loud crack. The searing ache of magic rippled through the hall, dark magic that sucked at your soul, and Dan felt himself shake, felt memories pressing to the back of his skull. He’d seen this before - used it before - but he couldn’t think about that right now.

He couldn’t risk it. Not when Phil was right there on the altar, under the witch’s dangerous fingers.

The witch, it seemed, had another target in mind. Martyn was struck down, but Cornelia - Cornelia was still standing there, resplendent in her wedding dress but with tears on her cheeks as she reached out for Martyn.

Before she could take a single step, a shadow flew from the witch’s fingers and descended on Cornelia, and she thumped down to the ground.

There were screams now, and a rush of movement as people tried to get out of the hall, but the shadowy darkness was thick around them all and it was hard to see, hard to breathe. Dan’s chest felt tight as he tried to battle his way forward, fear gripping cold fingers around his heart. He knew what witches were like when they’d been jilted, as it seemed had happened here - but could Martyn Lester have really been that stupid?

As the rest of the hall fell into complete disarray, Dan stood straight up, his towering height giving him a clear vision straight to the front of the hall. The bride - Cornelia - was on the ground, collapsed, with people flooding around her. A dark shadow hovered over her body, even as the witch flew away again with a screaming laugh.

Dan glared after her. He'd seen enough to piece together what had happened - a curse. He'd seen them used before - in the dark world of his past, he'd even ordered them used on his own foes. Dan had no such power himself, but he knew a sorcerer who had worked with Dan for years, since he was barely more than a boy.

Curses were dangerous. Dark magic was dangerous.

Phil was in danger.

With that thought, and cold fear still gripping his chest, Dan strode impatiently towards the front of the hall, pushing his way through the screaming crowds. He could see Phil crouched by his brother's side, obvious worry written all over his face, and Dan directed his steps straight towards there.

Unfortunately, he wasn't quick enough.

"Hey!" The rough voice of a guard caught Dan, along with a large hand on his shoulder. "No one is to go near the royals!"

"I don't have time for this," Dan growled.

"No? You'll have time for this, boy." The guard raised his fist, but Dan ducked, scrambling away with a growl.

He tried three more times to get close to Phil, but every time he was stopped by guards or terrified citizens or both, the crowd pushing the other way, trying to get out of the doors and away from the cold, dark shadow that still lingered in the air.

Giving up with a frustrated sigh, Dan edged his way to the side of the hall and stopped to think. He needed to get to Phil, to tell him about the curse - even if he was probably the last person Phil wanted to see right now. Dan couldn't leave him in danger. The very thought twisted his gut.

There was no way Dan could get to the altar, though. The royals had closed ranks, they were getting Martyn and Cornelia to safety, and Phil would be there somewhere too. Dan couldn’t get to him that way - he was going to have to be more inventive.

Dan ducked quickly through a tiny doorway and scurried down a corridor, keeping his hood low over his face. This was beyond risky - if he was caught, he knew he'd be tried - but Dan couldn't abandon Phil. Not even if he should. He knew the layout of the palace well enough by now, and travelling via the rafters would be even easier with such chaos going on. He could find his way to Phil’s private chambers, wait there for him to return. He’d have to at some point, right? And then Dan could finally warn Phil about the magic, about the curse. Someone had to warn him about this, or they could all be in danger right now.

**

It all happened in an instant. On edge as he was, Phil did his best to play his part in the wedding ceremony, nothing but grace and elegance and easy, happy smiles as the officiator stood in front of his brother and soon to be sister-in-law with words of wisdom and power that would soon bind them together forever. There was the holy bible in his hand that Phil could not help staring at, terrified it would hold some kind of dark magic that would leap out and murder his brother before he could stop it, but it never happened.

Instead, one moment Phil was staring with genuine tears in his eyes as Martyn and Cornelia took each other’s hands, and the next, the main hall of the palace was being steeped in darkness and Phil’s body was shocked into stasis.

He didn’t know how it happened. He was never given the chance to react. It was like someone had cast a spell over him, and he was forced to watch as first his brother, and then Cornelia, fell to the ground. A witch cackled in the air above them, but her words were drowned out by the screams of the royals in the hall, and Phil’s ears were abuzz with magic. His bones ached as he strained against the magic’s hold, and his jaw screamed with the forced effort he made to make a noise, any noise.

If he hadn’t been magicked into stasis himself, Phil might have wondered why no guard rushed forward to help, but he knew without even having to look that this had been a coordinated attack. Phil hated himself, then, for not being able to protect his brother, for not thinking to have his guard plan against this kind of eventuality, and strained harder still against his magical bonds as the witch cackled once more, and whisked out the broken windows of the main hall, leaving the palace cast in a dense fog that Phil could just manage to see through.

It was beginning to dissipate, and with it, the spell that had cast Phil immobile.

The second he was able to move again, Phil launched himself at the nearest guard and divested him of his sword, straining his gaze skyward to follow the witch’s flight pattern out of the castle. Once he’d ascertained which direction she was moving, he turned his attention back to his brother and Cornelia, who, last he’d seen, were collapsed on the floor.

What he found was Martyn dragging his body towards the women who was not quite his wife, his body in clear agony. Phil’s jaw set.

“Martyn!” he called, rushing to his side.

Martyn ignored him.

“Martyn, you must tell me who that witch was! What was she saying? What did she want? What did she do?”

“I don’t know!” Martyn screeched, shoving his shoulder back at Phil, narrowly missing breaking his nose. “Cornelia! She’s done something to Cornelia!”

Phil wanted to roll his eyes. That much was obvious. She’d also done something to Martyn, at least temporarily. He could hardly move.

There was a flurry of activity happening in the main hall. Phil knew that if someone else wanted to attack, they could just then, but he couldn’t focus on what was going on. He had to watch Martyn, to get as much information out of him as he could before Cornelia possibly died.

The dark mist the witch had cast over the palace room, over Cornelia, had not yet faded completely, and Phil was terrified at what that might mean.

“Martyn!” he shouted once more, grasping his brother's shoulder and forcing him to turn around. Martyn convulsed, and collapsed on his back. There were tears streaming down his cheeks. “You knew this was going to happen! You told me, you warned me! Who was the witch!?”

Martyn was sobbing as he answered.

“An ex-lover, from when I was a boy.”

The sheer pain in his words was enough to explain to Phil what he had missed. The witch, whoever she was, had been enacting her revenge, most likely for a broken heart.

Phil cursed.

Whatever had been done to Cornelia, it could not be good, but Phil had a terrible feeling that this mist was something far more than a danger to just her. Standing quickly, Phil grabbed hold of the nearest guard, and shouted, “Don’t let anyone leave the palace! It isn’t safe! Keep them all in here!”

The guard nodded their head without question, and went to do as Phil had told. Fear straining through him unlike any other, Phil turned his attention to the rest of the hall while his brother sobbed over his betrothed’s body, and searched for Dan.

Where was he? Surely he was still here?

The fear that something might happen to his beloved nearly broke Phil, and his mouth set in a hard grimace.

He turned to Martyn once more.

“Get up! Get up, you idiot, get up! We have to go after her! We have to find out what she’s done before someone dies!”

All Phil could think was that he would never forgive his brother if he lost Dan to his brother’s mistake.

**

They didn’t find the witch.

Phil led his brother outside of the palace walls alone and on horseback with their swords drawn, headed in the direction Phil had seen the woman fly off. Martyn confirmed it was the same direction he would go when he’d sneak off to meet her more than five years ago, and they headed off to get some answers.

They never found her.

When they reached the sullen little hut Martyn said they used for their sordid affair before Martyn had ever gotten together with Cornelia, they found it long abandoned and devoid even of the furniture Martyn once remembered being there.

In fact, the inside of the hut was largely burned with what smelled like dark magic to Phil, and the two had left with nothing but bitter regret in their hearts.

Phil allowed his brother Martyn to pull ahead of him on his horse, racing home, but did not let him get far, determined to protect the only family he had left. Phil had no idea what would come of the dark mist, or what had been done to Cornelia, but he knew that it would not be good.

They had no answers, though.

Phil could only hope that the healers would.

The last thing Phil wanted was to lose his sister, on top of everything else.

He blamed himself, and he blamed his brother.

If only Martyn had confided his fears in Phil earlier, if only Phil had been prepared for such an attack, if only Phil had insisted on being armed, of wearing his armor, of being shielded from a magic attack such as the one they had experienced…

If only Phil had thought of anything other than his anger at his brother the weeks leading up to the wedding, and had considered every possible angle of attack.

How could he have been so stupid, so distracted by his love for a man he could most likely never have?

Phil hated himself in those final moments as he and his brother approached the castle once more.

The guards let them pass, reassuring Phil that they had kept as many party goers as possible confined within the walls, and that search parties had been sent out to retrieve those who had escaped, just as Phil had asked.

Martyn did not wait for such reassurances. He headed straight for the healers, to check on Cornelia, and Phil did not blame him.

He personally headed for his own rooms, exhausted after the chase, after the day that he had had.

All he could do was hope that Dan had gotten away, that no one had figured out he’d been at the wedding, and that the curse - whatever the curse was - had not effected him.

Sighing, Phil  followed Martyn with a stone in his heart.

Martyn had known this was coming. When he’d broken things off with the witch five years ago to pursue a relationship with Cornelia, she had warned him that she would enact her revenge. If only Martyn had told him. If Cornelia died, if anyone died, it would be Martyn’s fault.

The healers had no good news for any of them. When Martyn and Phil arrived, Cornelia was laid to rest in her chambers with her mother and father, and Martyn’s mother and father crowded around the bed, and the healers shaking their head.

They had no understanding of what had been done. All they knew was that Cornelia was not quite dead, she was just not… alive, either.

Her heart continued to beat, and her chest to rise, but consciousness would not come.

Martyn cried like Phil had never seen before, and Phil… well, Phil escaped to his own chambers, unable to watch the heartbreak of his brother as all that he had ever done wrong came crashing down around him.

Phil’s thoughts flickered back to Dan once more.

Please have gotten out, he begged to himself, please do not die.

His fingers pressed to the bracelet on his wrist as he sighed.

Phil dragged himself to his bedroom, tears dripping down his cheeks as he sniffled, and pushed in the door as he began to strip.

**

Dan had managed to find his way to Phil’s rooms easily enough, and he’d spent the entire day waiting there, hoping that he was right and Phil would come here soon. He had to sleep at some point, right? No matter how much panic the castle might be in, or what Phil might have to do to keep his brother and almost-sister safe, Phil had to come back here eventually. He had to, so Dan could warn him about the curse, and tell him what it meant.

The darkness that had settled over the entire room was what worried Dan the most. He didn’t know much about dark magic, but from what he had picked up from the sorcerer he knew, it wasn’t good.

Dan spent his time thoroughly searching Phil’s room, figuring he might as well take the chance while he was here. Phil was haphazard and messy, items strewn around in a completely disordered fashion that upset Dan’s need for symmetry, but the entire place felt like Phil’s. It calmed Dan a little, to be somewhere that felt so much like it belonged to the person he’d come to care about more about than anything.

Caring about a royal. Dan never thought he’d see the day.

There was one drawer under Phil’s desk that Dan couldn’t open, even with all his lock-picking abilities. He’d spent several irritable minutes trying to prise it open, but in the end given up and thrown himself down onto Phil’s bed instead, impatient for him to return. The sheets were just as soft and silken as Dan had always imagined, the colours a lovely mix of green and blue that Dan could imagine Phil picking out for himself.

But mostly, Dan was caught up with thoughts of the curse he'd witnessed in the wedding hall earlier. Dan had seen plenty of dark magic in his time, enough to know that whatever the witch had done was bad. It didn't look like an instant killing curse - Dan shuddered at the memory of the last time he'd seen that - but it might be more like a poison, a slow-running death that was altogether more horrible. Dan had used one of those on someone, once. The results had not been pretty, and certainly not something Phil would want to hear about. Especially considering the person Dan had done it to - but that wasn’t worth thinking about now. He had to stay focused on Phil.

Dan's brows furrowed. He didn't want to see Phil go through such a horrible loss of a family member. And more importantly - being around dark magic was dangerous, even just as a bystander. That witch could have done anything to taint the very air in the castle, there was no way of knowing if Cornelia was her only target. Dan couldn't allow Phil to continue living in danger. No matter how much it might hurt to see him again, Dan had to do this.

When the door did open, Dan sat up straight, preparing himself for an argument.

What he wasn't prepared for was the casual way Phil was stripping his clothes as he walked through the door. Dan's lips parted slightly, his hormones suddenly coming back to life. Now he knew what Phil tasted like, Dan had a sudden urge to pull Phil back into his arms, to hold him and kiss him until he was melting into Dan again, the way he always should be.

The universe was just taunting him again, wasn't it?

Instead of acting upon his urges, Dan stretched out languidly in Phil's bed and raised one eyebrow, the hood of his cloak now down, revealing his face.

"You comfortable there, my Prince?"

Phil's thoughts were clouded and dark. That didn't mean a voice piping up behind him wasn't enough to break through any pain he was currently feeling, and he tore the sword he’d been carrying from his waistband at the same time as he whirled around. Shirtless and exposed, but ready to fight for his life, Phil's jaw instead dropped open to find his thief quite literally sprawled out on his bed.

Seconds later, however, the teasing man was sat up straight, staring at Phil in concern as his eyes took all of Phil in. Embarrassed, Phil flushed, feeling it as it traipsed down his chest, turning his entire body a horrible shade of red, and he dropped the sword dumbly to instead cover himself with his arms.

The way Phil's entire chest turned red was far too endearing. Why was he so adorable, so tempting for Dan? He was quite literally sitting in Phil's bedroom, with Phil half-naked in front of him, and yet Dan could do nothing about it other than let out a frustrated sigh.

Instead, Dan finally noticed the tear tracks on his face. Instantly, all teasing was gone from Dan's tone and he sat straight upright, his brow furrowed and his voice serious and severe. "What is it? Are you hurt? Come here, let me look at you."

Rather than doing as Dan had demanded and going to him, Phil stood up straighter and glared. "What are you doing here? How did you get in my rooms?" The horror and fear were clear on his face, but Phil was less angry to have Dan in his room than he was to have him put himself in harm's way. "You shouldn't be here," he growled, aware of how it sounded, but less afraid of hurting Dan's feelings and more concerned with keeping him safe.

He sniffled, probably ruining the whole threatening effect he'd meant to get across.

Phil's words hurt much more than Dan had braced himself for. He barely concealed a flinch. He couldn't help it - Phil's honest words had a way of striking straight at Dan's heart, attacking his softest spots.

"Yes, well," Dan answered tersely, "You might not want me here, but right now I'm the best ally you've got. Don't worry your pretty little head about how I got here. Just get over here and let me check you - how long were you in the hall after the curse was cast?"

Dan snapped impatient fingers at Phil, directing him over to the bed in front of Dan. Normally even Dan wouldn't use so forward a gesture, but worry for Phil's well being was making him ever so slightly panicky.

Dan wasn't going to analyse what that might mean until he was long, long gone from Phil's dangerously intense gaze.

Laughing derisively, Phil let out a small sob, and shook his head. "You're an idiot, Dan, you know that?" He growled, and wiped furiously at the tears falling down his cheeks once again. "You honestly think I don't want you here? You honestly think I just need you as an ally, to help me out of whatever ridiculous situation my idiot brother has managed to get us stuck in now? You think that's what this is about?" He added, trying and failing to bite back another sob. "You're an idiot if you don't think I want you here. You're an idiot if you don't know that much already."

Phil's tearful near-confession left Dan damn near speechless.

Call him an idiot, but he hadn't seen that one coming at all. He thought - he thought Phil didn't want anything to do with him, not after knowing that Dan wouldn't give up being a thief. That Dan couldn't change. Wasn't Phil supposed to be angry about that?

So why was he crying all over Dan, still so obviously upset with him, and yet wanting him near?

"You," Dan settled on muttering, "Are very confusing, my Prince."

Wiping hard at his cheeks, and feeling downright miserable, Phil moved closer to Dan despite not wanting to, and stopped in front of him, giving Dan the chance to look him over. If nothing else, Dan at least seemed to have some idea of what was going on, and maybe he could help. But if Dan was concerned about how long Phil was in the hall after the curse had been cast, how worried should Phil be about Dan?

As soon as Phil obeyed Dan's words and sat on the bed in front of him, Dan set about checking every inch of him for signs of dark magic. A dark spell like that curse always left physical traces behind if you knew where to look, and Dan had learned from an early age just how vital it was to recognise such signs.

Plus, the chance to explore Phil's chest might never come again, so Dan was going to take the opportunity while he could.

"I couldn't protect you. I couldn't protect anyone. What's the bloody point of being Captain of the Royal Guard if I can't take care of the people I care about," Phil hissed dramatically, still swiping at his cheeks as Dan's hands moved about his body, eyes probably scanning over him as well as he checked him out.

“Hush,” Dan murmured, focusing on checking Phil before he’d address everything else. “Sit still. How long were you in the hall?”

"I don't know how long we were in the hall. I took Martyn, and we left, tried to track down the witch. No good, she's gone and now the healers say -fuck,” Phil moaned, and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes.

Dan tutted quietly. He ran his hands up and over Phil's shoulders, tracing slowly down his chest and watching as goosebumps rose up in his wake. "Don't you dare blame yourself," Dan told him sternly. "You're a Prince, but that doesn't make you responsible for every single thing that goes wrong in the whole of the damn Kingdom.

Phil couldn't bring himself to argue with Dan. Dan didn't understand, anyway. He had to blame himself, because the kingdom was his responsibility, and he had been meant to be the one to protect all of his people, especially the ones he loved. Everyone was looking to him now, as Captain Philip, second Prince in line for the throne, and brother-in-law to Cornelia. He was the one who was meant to save everyone, to protect them all, whether he knew them or not.

Dan finished up his investigation of Phil's chest and instead moved to his eyes, tilting Phil's face towards him by the chin and lowering his hands. Dan hunted those deep blue eyes for any trace of a shadow, staring into them for perhaps longer than was strictly necessary. Dan could feel his fear for Phil's safety rising in his own expression, despite his best efforts to hide it.

"Ok, I think you're clear." Dan let out a breathy sigh of relief and, because he couldn't help himself, he collapsed into Phil's shoulder. "For a minute there, I thought..."

Dan's voice trailed away and he shuddered against Phil, closing his eyes. His Prince was safe. Dan was almost bowled over by the amount of relief he felt at that, seeing that for himself. Phil was safe, and with Dan, and none of the dark magic had touched him.

Phil was so consumed in his own pain and heartache that he hardly noticed Dan checking him over until Dan forcefully pulled his hands away from his eyes to check them as well, one hand holding Phil's chin in place. He couldn't stop the tears, knew he probably looked ridiculous, and yet, Dan's warm brown eyes held a familiarity that was comforting. Phil didn't know what Dan was looking for, but he felt safe with his thief touching him.

The last thing Phil expected, however, was for Dan to collapse against him, slumped into Phil's side with his head resting on Phil's shoulder. His voice was pained and torn, showing even more emotion than he had last night when he'd stormed off, angry and having misunderstood Phil. Reaching up despite his own pain, Phil placed his hand on top of Dan's head, and stroked his thief's hair.

The touch to his hair was just about the most comforting thing Dan had felt in his life. He had some vaguely distant memories of his mother touching his hair, in the deep reaches of his past, but other than that Dan couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him to bring about comfort.

Dan couldn't help himself. He leaned into Phil, allowed his eyes to close, allowed himself to find some peace in having Phil near again.

It couldn’t last, but Dan would enjoy it while it did.

"I'm fine, Dan," Phil murmured, sniffling again. "Physically, I'm fine… but the healers. They don't know what's wrong. They can't - they can't fix Cornelia, let alone anyone else who might have been affected, and it's - " Phil meant to say it was his fault again, but he held his tongue, knowing it would only anger Dan more.

Dan's words earlier echoed back to him, about Phil having confused him, but he put it out of his mind for now. They could deal with that later. For now, Phil allowed himself to cry silently while he stroked his thief's soft hair.

Dan sat up again, despite losing the lovely touch to his hair. He needed Phil to calm down, to listen to Dan and understand exactly what he was saying. So he reached out to cup Phil's cheek again, bringing the Prince's attention back to Dan.

"Your healers wouldn't recognise this," Dan told him quietly, "Because it's dark magic. A curse. I don't think it was an instant killing curse, but it might be a long-acting poison. I'm not expert enough to tell. All I know is, you do not fuck with dark magic."

Dan let out a bitter laugh, remembering all the times he'd learned that the hard way.

But right now, Phil had to be the focus.

"I know a sorcerer," Dan told Phil quickly. "He knows dark magic better than anyone. I can bring him here. He'll be able to tell what Cornelia needs - but you have to get him in to see her. I can only do so much, and time is of the essence with things like this."

Dan's grip on his face pulled Phil's attention back to him, and Phil stared into those eyes he'd come to love and listened, as best he could, to the only solution being offered to him right now.

The idea that Cornelia had time, but maybe only so much time, was heartbreaking, and Phil had to fight through the panic to really take in what Dan was saying. The idea that Dan knew how dangerous this was because he had faced dark magic before, however, only cemented home how badly Phil needed to protect him, and he reached up to cup the back of Dan's neck with his own hands, dragging him closer.

His eyes closed, and he nodded his head slowly. "Okay, okay, whatever needs to be done, I'll do it, just - Dan, please. Help me. I'm begging you," Phil said, and pressed his forehead to Dan's. His eyes were still closed, and he was still crying, could feel the tears dripping down his cheeks, but he didn't let go of Dan. "Just help me help her."

Dan froze at those words.

Phil was - Phil was asking Dan to help him? Phil actually wanted Dan's help?! Dan had counted on a fight, on having to work to make Phil trust him enough.

But instead, Phil was showing complete blind faith in Dan, begging him to help.

Dan had underestimated him once again.

The way Phil was clinging to him showed his vulnerability, and that wasn’t something Dan had ever thought he’d see from the Captain of the Royal Guard. This man, this man had given Dan hell for so long, chased him through the streets and into darkness, and now here he sat, crying and clinging onto Dan, begging for his help.

Seeing Phil cry like this wasn’t ok in Dan’s books. Phil shouldn’t ever be sad, and he certainly shouldn’t be having to ask for Dan’s help. Dan would give him whatever he needed, always, in whatever ways he could. Didn’t Phil know that by now?

Apparently not, and even Dan was taken aback by the strength of his own feelings. Phil was important - the most important person Dan knew.

"Phil," Dan murmured, hating the way his own voice broke. "Phil, it's ok, I promise you it'll be ok. I'll help you. Phil? I'll help."

Dan reached up to thumb away the fresh tears marring Phil's smooth cheeks. Dan tilted his face up, looking Phil right in the eyes.

"I swear to you, Phil Lester, on the blood of my own family, I won't let you lose yours." Dan's voice cracked, just a little, but he held Phil tight in place. "Do you hear me? I'm going to help you. It's ok. I'm going to help."

Dan drew in a shuddering breath. "Give me a raven. I'll summon the sorcerer. He'll answer my call and be here within the hour. But you have to grant him safe passage, you hear me? This is important." Dan looked away, reluctant to continue, but knowing he had to. He didn't want Phil guessing at just how dark and twisted Dan's own past was. "This sorcerer has probably been on your wanted list at some time or another. But I promise you, he will help. Do you trust me, Phil?"

Phil was crying even harder now, terrified that Dan would take it back, tell Phil that he was only screwing with him, but then his thief began to speak, and every word out of his mouth was like a soothing comfort to Phil's broken heart. Maybe it would be okay, maybe it could be okay. Dan's touch on his cheeks, the way his voice sounded caressing Phil's name like that, it helped, until Phil was stuck staring into warm brown eyes once more.

They were both more vulnerable in that moment than they ever had been before, and that was made more than clear by Dan opening up to him, swearing on his own family’s blood - and that cemented it home to Phil. Phil had struck a nerve the last time he'd brought up Dan's family, calling him out for him implying that he was an orphan and it was Phil's family’s fault Dan's family had died, but he'd also struck back, telling Phil never to presume to know him.

And now he was admitting as much, letting Phil in, showing him trust by swearing on the blood of his family and promising that he wouldn't allow Phil to lose his as well.

Looking up into warm brown eyes, Phil slowly nodded his head. It didn't matter to him why or how Dan knew a sorcerer who'd been on Phil's wanted list before.

"I trust you. I'll send for a raven."

Dan nodded, more than relieved that Phil seemed to be calming down enough to take in the situation. It hurt a little, for Dan to be this open and vulnerable to someone. He never talked about his family - it was too raw - but he needed something to bring Phil back to him.

Without further warning, Dan leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Phil's forehead. The gesture was far sweeter and more comforting than Dan usually went for, but the sight of tears on Phil's cheeks was alien, and Dan had the irrepressible urge to fix it.

"Hold on, let me write a message," Dan murmured, and went straight to Phil's drawer to retrieve some parchment. He'd searched Phil's room enough earlier to know where to find things. He scrawled out a quick message, knowing his sorcerer friend would recognise his handwriting and therefore know this was not a hoax.

The softness of Dan's lips against his skin sent Phil's heart fluttering all over again, and he closed his eyes as he let the sensation trail through him, lighting him up all the way to his heart. It was sweet, something different even than anything else Dan had done for him, something for more intimate that showed Phil a part of Dan he'd never thought he'd see.

It was a move of affection, and it was beginning to prove to Phil what Phil had hoped Dan could prove to him. When he opened his eyes again, it was with a watery smile aimed at Dan's back as he moved around Phil's chambers to scrawl out a message. Phil didn't even question the fact that Dan appeared to have searched his room heavily recently to know where everything was, and watched with baited breath for things to be set in place.

"I've told him to meet us by the servants’ quarters," Dan explained quietly as he held the parchment out to Phil. "I don't think you'll want the sight of a dark sorcerer entering the palace to spread. Send this, and I promise you he'll be here within the hour. Let me be there when you go to meet him - I need to tell him it's safe."

Eyes finally landing back on Dan's face, Phil bit his lip again. "I don't want you in danger," he whispered, but he knew that Dan was right, and nodded firmly anyway. "As long as you're safe."

Dan let a wry smirk twist his lips. "I'm always in danger, Phil. You get used to it after the first few years.” Still, it was sweet to have Phil actually caring about him, rather than the usual shouting at him that Dan was used to from other people.

Taking the parchment from Dan, Phil nodded his head slowly, looking the paper over but too unfocused to read the words. He rolled it up, tied a string to it, and began to move past Dan, but Dan stopped him with a hand on his arm.

Dan chewed his lip, dark eyes trained on Phil's face. "Phil, please - please don't judge me by him. He's part of my past."

Phil reached out to grip Dan's wrist, tethering him to him, and promised, "I'll never judge you for your past, my thief. I swear to you on my life."

Dan melted just a little under those words, under the way Phil held his wrist, tying them together. It was sweeter than anything Dan had felt before, hearing Phil say he wouldn’t judge Dan, but Dan wasn't so sure that would last. He'd reserve judgment for now. After all, he'd underestimated Phil before.

Dan allowed Phil to go and send the raven, in the meantime settling himself further into Phil's bed. The sheets were incredibly comfortable, more so than the hard ground Dan was used to sleeping on, and so he had a hard time not just falling asleep.

Leaving Dan behind in his chambers was both thrilling and discomforting. Phil had never had anyone of a romantic interest in his chambers before, let alone on his bed, and he was terrified. He didn't know if Dan would expect anything when he returned, didn't know if he was in the right emotional state for much of anything at all, and took his time finding and sending a raven in order to pull himself together.

He swept away the tears on his cheeks, reminded himself that crying would do nothing, and reassured himself he was currently doing all that he could. An hour, Dan had said, an hour before he could really hatch a way to save Cornelia, and protect his family from any other problems the curse may have brought with it.

Phil might be safe, if Dan's diagnosis was anything to go by, but that said nothing of anyone else.

It was on his way back to his room that he walked past a confused looking duchess whose eyes scanned slowly over his body that Phil realized he’d been in such a state, he’d forgotten about his misplaced jacket. Blushing deeply, and discomforted in a completely different way to Dan having seen him like this, Phil scurried down the passageways to his room, praying the duchess did not follow.

Once Phil had returned to his room, he thought he mostly had himself under control, and was no longer even sniffling. He pushed his door open and walked inside quickly, shutting and locking it behind him, and turned to find Dan sprawled out on his bed again, this time looking like he'd got quite comfortable. He wasn't nude or anything like that, though, or trying to come on to Phil, for which he was grateful.

It wasn't as if no one had ever tried to seduce him before, after all.

When Phil returned, it was with a slightly dejected look that tugged at Dan’s heart. Dan reached out for him without getting off the bed, wanting him near again, wanting to comfort him and try and take away the sad lines marring his usually warm features. Phil was supposed to be happy, that was the way the world was supposed to work. "You know, your palace isn't half bad from down here," Dan spoke through a yawn. "The view from the rafters was more exciting, though."

Sighing, Phil moved to meet Dan's hand that was reaching for him, and collapsed into bed next to him, feeling his heart curl up and purr to see Dan looking so vulnerable to him. He rolled to face him, fingers tangling with Dan's, and chuckled.

"I'm sure that was a much more exciting view, though I can't help but be glad you're down from a height that could kill you," he murmured, voice sounding exhausted. Dan was on his back, staring up at Phil's ceiling, but Phil was on his side watching his face, just enjoying the fact that Dan could be soft with him, now. He wasn't poised for attack, or flirting with that insufferable smirk on his face that told Phil he was very much in charge. Right now, he was gentle.

Dan stayed on his back, looking up at the ceiling, and tried not to show how happy he was when Phil took his hand. Phil's fingers were warm, and Dan liked the way he could curl his whole hand around Phil's, making him feel like he was protecting Phil. Phil sounded exhausted and miserable - Dan wanted to distract him, at least for a little while.

"Were you worried about me, my Prince?" Dan's voice was bubbling with mirth again. "I assure you, the rafters are as safe as anywhere in this castle for me."

He turned his head to catch Phil's eye, only to find Phil already staring at him. Something in Dan's chest fluttered. He shouldn't care, but having Phil looking at him like that, like Dan was the only thing in the world...

Dan shook his head once, looking determinedly back up at the ceiling. He squeezed Phil's hand, feeling the ring he was still wearing press against Phil's flesh.

Phil's mood soured a bit at the reminder that the Castle was a very dangerous place for Dan right now, and he closed his eyes briefly, feeling a failure in that capacity as well. It wasn't fair that Phil was keeping Dan drawn to this place where Dan's life could be taken right out of his hands, to the point where Dan felt just as safe in the rafters as he did on the ground. He wanted to roll over and tell Dan that he was safe here, in Phil's bed, but the very idea of it made him blush.

He thought he knew Dan pretty well by now, and there was no doubt in his mind that would start another bout of teasing.

For a moment. Dan rolled to him, seeming a bit taken aback to find Phil staring at him, and then warm fingers tightened around his, the ring on Dan's finger pressing into Phil's skin as if it were a reminder.

They had an hour until the sorcerer would show up, and Dan had a sinking feeling that Phil might not want as much to do with Dan after that. No matter what Phil said now.

So Dan planned to make the most of what time he did have.

"Did you enjoy my distractions last night, by the way?" Dan asked suddenly. "I was quite proud of my dagger throw, personally.”

Startled, Phil laughed again. "I can't believe you threw a dagger at a royal duke," he said, "Not that I'm complaining. It was quite a show of… courtship," Phil dared to say, biting his lip on the word. "I quite enjoyed your company, actually. You made the event much more bearable."

At the word 'courtship', Dan stiffened ever so slightly. Of course that was how Phil would take what Dan had been doing - and that was partly why Dan had done it, yes. Everyone had to see who Phil belonged to.

Dan couldn't let Phil see too much of that, though. Not when things were still so fragile and impossible.

"Oh, he was a Duke, was he?" Dan replied casually, still looking up at the ceiling. "Well, he learned the hard way not to put his hands on what belongs to me. I don't do sharing very well."

Phil wanted to ask, Are you courting me, Dan? but he didn't, accepting his response instead. In time, maybe… maybe they would trust each other enough to use that word properly. Maybe, if Phil was lucky, this was more than just a chance to flirt and play pretend for Dan.

Still, it sent a flutter of warmth through his chest to be called Dan's once again. He should be used to that by now, and yet he wasn't.

"Yes, a Duke who seemed quite after my hand. It's a good thing you interfered when you did. I thought I was going to have to punch him, and just after he threatened me, too," Phil replied equally as casually as Dan.

There was too much space between them. Phil ached to close it, but didn't. His eyes were weighing heavy on him, and despite Dan being a good distraction, the hurt in his heart for his family had not gone. All in all, Phil was miserable, whether he was flirting with his thief or not.

Dan was glad that Phil didn't push him on the courtship issue, but it did worry him slightly. From what Dan had seen, Phil was the sort of person who said what they meant, who liked to know where they stood. Dan couldn't give him that just yet. And that worried him - that maybe Phil would give up before Dan could sort himself out.

"Are Princes allowed to punch their royal guests?" Dan wondered aloud, turning once more to face Phil. He narrowed his eyes, though, when he saw the exhaustion marring Phil's face. There were deep lines on his forehead, and his lips were turned downward. Dan ached to see that carefree smile there instead, but it seemed impossible just then. Phil was weighed down with worry, with fear, with responsibility that he shouldn't have to bear.

Dan burned with the desire to protect him, and it scared him a little. Dan never wanted to care for others, not since he was alone in the world, anyway. And yet, here Phil lay, exhausted and alone, and Dan wanted to change that.

Rather than answering, Phil shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't entirely sure it would have gone over well had he punched his guest, but at the same time, Phil wasn't sure he would have been able to control himself. In any case, the event had not arisen, and so he found no point in speaking on it, especially not when Dan had turned to look at him again.

Phil loved looking at Dan's face, especially when he was close and warm and looking at Phil's face too.

"Hey," Dan murmured, rolling to close the gap between them until his side was pressed right up against Phil's. Dan lifted one hand to drag a gentle finger down Phil's cheek, tracing the lines his tears had made earlier, and gripped Phil's fingers tighter with his other. "Quit worrying so much. I promised you I'd help, didn't I? Don't you trust me to help you?"

Phil wasn't entirely expecting Dan to move closer to him, but he wouldn't deny that he was happy for it, and sighed a bit at having him close before closing his eyes. They burned with exhaustion. Phil was tired to his bones. He'd gotten so little sleep the past few days, but especially last night, and then, when he'd finally had the chance to go out and see his kingdom once more, it was on a wild goose chase for an insane witch who'd cast a spell.

He wanted to sleep, but even as his eyes burned with exhaustion, he knew he needed to stay awake. He had a family to save.

Startled by Dan's finger pressing down Phil's cheek, caressing him, Phil's eyes popped open again.

"I trust you more than you know," Phil agreed, voice quite, hushed, like he almost didn't want Dan to hear him at all. "Maybe that's a dangerous game, but… you're proving yourself to me," he added, and then let his eyes flutter closed again. He had a feeling Dan wouldn't entirely understand what he meant by that, just as he hadn't understood the last time Phil had said those words to him, but Phil was too tired to explain.

So instead, he breathed in deep. "It's hard, not to worry."

Dan's eyes widened a little at Phil's quiet admission. The way Phil spoke was more open and vulnerable than Dan had ever seen him before, torn apart by worry for his family, by fear that he'd failed his duty. Dan couldn't bear to see him like this.

His words confused Dan, though. What exactly was Dan proving to Phil? Dan wasn't aware that he was proving anything. As far as he knew, Phil would never truly trust him because he was a thief, and that was never going to change. Wasn't Phil supposed to be angry about that?

If that was the case, why was he letting Dan in so close?

Dan shook his head, his thoughts rushing together in a confusing mass. He could try to puzzle it all out later - for now, Phil looked like he was about to drop off, and Dan had a job to do. If Phil was one of Dan's precious treasures, then Dan knew exactly what he had to do to protect him.

"Stop thinking so loud," Dan muttered. He tightened his grip around Phil and tugged, until Phil's head was resting against his chest. "Go to sleep. I'll wake you before the sorcerer comes, we'll go down and meet him together. You'll be no use to anyone if you're dead on your feet."

Dan's fingers idly started to thread through Phil's hair, playing with the styled strands. Having Phil's bare chest so close to him almost made Dan regret his own fully clothed form, but he didn't care. Right now, his focus was solely on Phil's comfort.

Yet another sign that Dan was in too deep.

Phil couldn't help but to chuckle, knowing Dan was right. He needed to find a way to relax, but how was he meant to do that? It seemed the best way was to have Dan touching him, apparently, as the second Dan had tugged Phil in, forcefully making Phil rest his head against his thief's chest, Phil was practically melting.

He was so tired. So, so fucking tired, weak and heartbroken, scared to death, and Dan… well, Dan was just a comforting presence who could technically kill Phil in his sleep, and yet he didn't think that was going to happen.

Phil could hear Dan's heartbeat. The feel of it made his own heart race, and his lips quirked up that tiny bit, drawing comfort from Dan's hand in his, Dan's hand in his hair, Dan's heartbeat under his ear.

"Wake me up early. I wanted… give you something," Phil murmured, unsure if Dan had heard him at all, but he was too relaxed to care, too close to sleep, so desperate for comforting oblivion, and so he let his eyes drift closed, and he let Dan protect him, and he trusted Dan to keep him safe.

Dan frowned a little at Phil's last words before he slept. Give him something? What more could Phil possibly give him? Dan had already taken so much from Phil, forcing him to chase him all around the city, luring him to places he deliberately chose because he knew Phil would hate them. And now Phil wanted to give him something?

Dan's Prince was definitely confusing.

Not that Dan was going to turn down another gift. He'd come to rely heavily on Phil, on the time they spent together. His obsession had more or less taken over his life over the past few months, ever since the last of his comrades had been captured by Phil's Royal Guard. It was hard to believe that that same man was currently sleeping in Dan's arms.

Dan continued to toy with Phil's hair. He was trapped beneath Phil's warm, heavy body, but Dan could hardly say he minded. It was nice to have another body so close to his, to see just how much Phil trusted him. Dan could slip away and steal all of Phil's riches if he wanted to. Honestly, though, the thought couldn't be further from his mind.

He would wait here, patiently, with Phil against his chest, until Phil woke again and it would be time to face the world. They had an hour until the sorcerer arrived - an hour to rest.

An hour Dan fully intended to spend wrapped up with Phil, and neither of them would move again until they had to.

[theskilledquill-blog]

Understudy

My first real attempt at something. I tried to keep this as realistic as possible but let’s be real, I’ve never been backstage of a Broadway show. This is working on the prompt list I reblogged that is on my blog. Please be gentle. 

Pairing: Lin x reader

Rating: PG

Words: 2135 (holy shit)

Prompt: “I’m not pretty, I look like an ugly, dirty rat.”

Who the fuck knew it rained in New York in February? When you relocated to the Big Apple eight months ago you imagined a snowy white wonderland during the month of February.

You could not have been more wrong.

Instead of fluffy snow coating your fire escape, you were ducking under trees and awnings because of course you also forgot your umbrella on your way out the door. Because who carries an umbrella around in February? Thankfully the Richard Rogers was only a few blocks from the subway exit that brought you from your apartment this afternoon.

When you finally arrived to the stage door, you were quickly allowed into the building with Bill, the much-loved door security laughing at you. “This is the first rain I’ve seen in February in my 25 years in this city.”

 “That does not make me feel any better, Bill. I didn’t anticipate this kind of downpour in February!” You shake the water from your clothes before launching into an ascent of the numerous staircases that lead to your dressing room.

 Walking down the hallway to the dressing room you share with the other ensemble members, you push the door open before plopping your backpack down into your normal seat. Digging into your backpack, you quickly produce a pair of sweatpants and a flannel shirt. Thankful for a two-show day, you start stripping off your soggy shirt. Unfortunately for you, the wet fabric clung to your face as you also forgot to take off your glasses in your haste.

 Struggling to pull the shirt over your head, you didn’t hear the door for the dressing room open up. When you finally extracted the shirt from your body, you gasp at the unexpected audience in the doorway.

 Standing in the doorframe was Lin. Lin: the guy who hired you eight months ago when you first arrived on his stage fresh out of college and desperately seeking employment. Much to your surprise, he pulled you right into the cast and you were soon the newest member of the HamFam. Lin: the guy you had been in love with for seven months and thirty days since your first day of rehearsals. Lin: the guy who also treated you like the little sister you never wanted to be.

 “Uh..uh.. hey Lin!” You squeak out. Coming to the realization that you were standing in front of your hopeless love interest in nothing but a thin beige bra that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, you quickly grab your flannel shirt to cover yourself up. In your haste you failed to notice Lin’s boring stare into your body or the small raise in his form-fitting pants.

 “Oh…uhm, hey there (F/N). You look nice today.” His hand raises to the back of his neck and he pulls on his hair that is for once loose from his signature Hamilton pony tail.

 “Pfftt. I’m not pretty. I look like a dirty, ugly rat. Correction: a drowned, dirty ugly rat.” You pull the flannel over your body and start buttoning the shirt figuring he’d already seen you half covered already and didn’t start anything, might as well get warmed up. “What’s up? Don’t see you at this end of the hall very much.”

 “Oh! Right, well, Pippa is out sick today. Seems the nasty day caught up with her and instead of pushing it, I told her to stay home and rest up. You’re up for Eliza today. Are you ready for the two-show day?”

 Being cast in Hamilton right out of college was a once in a lifetime opportunity and while you loved everyday of your job, you didn’t think you would ever have to go on for Pippa even if you were her understudy. You knew you were good you would never be Pippa.  

 “Are you sure? I…I’ve never gone on for her before and I’m still so new. I would love to be Eliza but am I ready? “ Panicking, you frantically searched his face for any hesitation with giving you today’s role.

 “Ready? You’re asking me if you’re ready? (F/N), there are few people I know who could be as good as an Eliza as you. If you really don’t think you’re ready, I’m sure we can pull someone else but I really think it’s your time to shine.” He walked over to you and wrapped his hands around your upper arms. Way to act more like a big brother, Lin. “I think you will shine today.”

 “Oh-okay. I’m ready.” Your voice shook but you started to steel your nerves and looked him in the eye. “I can do it.”

 “Excellent! Well… I’ll let you get um-changed and then meet costuming to see what might need to be adjusted before the first show.” His hands still around your arms, he lingered a beat too long before backing up slowly and then rushing out of the dressing room. Frowning at his retreating figure, you changed into your pants before trekking into costumes.

 After taking the seat in hair and make up, Jasmine bounced into the room to occupy the seat next to you. “I’m so excited! Well, not that Pippa is catching something but that you’re finally getting the change you deserve! Plus, you’ll finally be able to kiss Lin,” she dragged out the last syllable of her sentence before cutting her eyes at you.

 “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, Jazz. Lin’s like an older brother to me, he doesn’t see me as anything more than a little sister. We’ll never be anything more.” Unbeknownst to you, Lin was waiting on the other side of the door to the hair and make up room walking to get into his costume for the first show, his face falling as your words reached the hallway.

 “Oh, come on (F/N)! You know you’re in love with him and if his behavior is anything to go off of, he feels the same way! You guys are always just bouncing around each other. Whenever we’re rehearsing or out for drinks, you two are always with each other but not touching. You guys seem to gravitate towards each other.” Her eyes falling shut as the hair artists pulls her hair into the signature Peggy pony tail.

With a sweeping finish, the hairdresser declared you ready for the stage and scooted you from the room to start on Renee’s hair. As she walked past you towards the chair, she pulled you into a tight hug. “(F/N), I’m so happy you’re finally going to be my sister today! And I’m sure someone else is really excited that you’re going to be their wife…” She released you with a wink as you continued out the door.

 Is what they’re saying true? Did Lin like you? You had always doubted it: he never tried to flirt with you despite numerous opportunities to do so, he was friendly to you but there had been ample opportunity to make a move. You two had basically been living in the same building for six months! Granted, he had offered on many occasions to walk you home, which you had declined because he lived in a different borough. His actions towards your best friend Jeremy had also been borderline possessive until he realized Jeremy was decidedly gay.

 You had basically chalked everything up to Lin knowing you were new to the city and just being over-protective of a new cast member. It didn’t seem to be strange for him to offer these things but looking back, even for the always willing to lend a hand Lin, these actions were overly nice.

 Shaking the thoughts from your head, you were laced into Eliza’s opening number dress. The ivory was something that you always admired even though it was the same color as your ensemble costume. Walking towards the stage, you stopped for a moment at Lin’s door and knocked softly.

 “Come in,” he called through the door. Pushing open the door, you stepped inside the messy space. Looking up, Lin’s eyes roamed over you. His mouth popping into a small “o,” for possibly the first time ever, he was at a loss for words. Okay, maybe this is kind of what Jazz meant. “(F/N), wow… (F/N). You look amazing. That dress was made for you.” His eyes finally reached your face, which was a brilliant shade of pink.

 “Well, I mean, technically is was made for Pippa. They only made a few adjustments for me.” You quickly laughed at your lame joke before the warning for five minutes until places rang through his dressing room. “Oh, well better head out. You still need to get into your coat.” Slipping out of his gaze, you headed into the noise of the crowd gathering for the opening number. Right before you were out of earshot though, you could hear Lin softly shout, “Break a leg!”

 As you entered the stage for the first time out of your normal ensemble costume, you moved through your paces during the opening number. When it arrived at the moment for you to hand Lin his bag, you brought the strap up to him before making eye contact. For those few seconds, you were absolutely stunned to see the intense expression on his face. This wasn’t his just normal “I’m a scrappy 19-year old act expression” this was something entirely different. As you continued walking to side stage, you tried to maintain your expression of confusion but most likely failed.

 Thankfully, the first act quickly progressed and it was already intermission. During the short break, you took notice of what Jazz had mentioned. Lin was there but he wasn’t. At all times, he was able to be within an arms reach but he never said anything. Just as quickly as the first, the second act was over as you mourned imaginary Ant being shot. As you circumvented the stage at the last few notes of the show, Lin looked at you with close to tears in his eyes before you stepped center stage.

 Exiting after the curtain call, everyone seemed to embrace you and offered you their congratulations. “You were absolutely amazing (F/N)! Just wonderful!” Lin exclaimed as he pulled you into a warm hug. For a brief moment you relaxed into his embrace before you both jumped back from each other. “Time for stage door! You coming?” He babbled before running out to the stage door.

 Shaking your head, you skip stage door, as no one out there would be super excited to see you. Moving through the hallways of the Richard Rogers, you’re stopped by numerous actors and backstage support congratulating you on your appearance. When you finally make it to the dressing room and step out of the constricting corset you’re able to breathe in a sigh of relief.

 With the dress pooling at your feet, you hear a slight gasp before jerking your head up to the source. There stands Lin, once more occupying the doorway to the dressing room. With no shirt to rescue you, you awkwardly stand with your arms crossing over your chest as your blush creeps down your body. “H-hey! What’s happening?” what’s happen? What is that (Y/N)

 “Hey,” he stammers out “they were asking for you at the door. I told them I would mention it to you so you’d know for the second show of the day.” You can’t quite decipher the look on his face and his eyes dart from your face to your body to the floor and then around the room. Finally his eyes reach your face, his cheeks bright red. “So…yeah, yeah I told you so I wanted to just let you know and I’ll see you later.” He runs out of the door and heads back to the hall.

 Thinking fast, you shout “Hey Lin!” In the time you can grab your shirt from earlier, he quickly re-enters the doorway.

 “Yeah, (Y/N)?” His blush is still present on his cheeks as well but at least this time he can look you in the eyes.

 “When are you finally going to get around to kissing me?” With a hand on your hip, you try to put forth more confidence than you had in the forward question.

 “Oh…well, uhm…” he stutters out an answer before a look of determination takes over his features. In a few strides, he’s in front of you, trying to avoid stepping on the Eliza costume. Taking your face in his hands, his eyes flicker between your lips and your eyes before you give him a little smirk. With no more waiting, he brings his face towards yours as you melt into each other.

Through the haze of the magic that is kissing Lin you can faintly hear Jazz in the background shouting “I knew it!”

[hamitome--imagines]

All the Letters You Wrote Me

* Laurens × shy!SchuylerSister!reader * Hamiltime * 179: I’ve never felt this way about anyone before…and it scares the shot out of me. * Requested by @fangirlwithasweettooth

A/N: ok since it’s early morning for me, it’s probably not night for anyone else. And for that I apologize. I added more to it then I originally planned. Also the title is misleading as it has almost nothing to do with letters. Oops. But it’s done and it’s up! Enjoy!

Word Count: 3,049

~~

“Come on Y/N!” You older sister Eliza urged. “You too Peggy!” She was currently dragging both of you through the town. Even though your dad specifically said not to go downtown.

“Daddy said to be home by sundown.” You tried.

“Daddy doesn’t need to know.” You older sister Angelica said from where she was leading the three of you.

“Daddy said not to go downtown.” Your little sister Peggy tried to say.

“Like I said, you’re free to go.” Eliza told her.

“But this will be much more fun.” Angelica said. You and Peggy weren’t very outgoing. Yes you loved spending time with your sisters but they were more personable. Peggy just didn’t want to do wrong. But you? You were very shy. When Angelica, Eliza, and eventually Peggy would be talking to people, you shut down and got quiet. They tried getting you to open up but it never worked. Though you could hold your own as well as your sisters.

“What you doing in the city in your fancy heels? You searching for an urchin you can give you ideals?” Burr asked your sister. You nose wrinkled up in annoyance.

“Burr your disgust me.” Angelica told him.

“Ah so you’ve discussed me?” He tried again. “I’m a trust fund baby, you can trust me.” All three of your sisters and you gave him a bewildered look. Angelica quickly shrugged him off.

You spent the rest of the day wandering the streets of downtown. It was a little fun, only the thrill of doing something you’re not supposed to. One thing you enjoyed about downtown was watching the guys. You weren’t brave enough to talk to any of them, but you could watch them. You got your attention captured by a man with curly hair pulled into a ponytail. You didn’t even realize you were staring at him.

“Go talk to him.” Eliza urged, suddenly coming up beside you.

“What? No, it’s fine.” You said, embarrassed someone caught you.

“You may never see him again and he could be the love of your life.” Eliza tried again.

“Or he could think I’m really weird for coming up to talk to him randomly. And if he’s the love of my life, I’m sure I’ll see him again. Now let’s head home. Dad will kill us if we miss curfew again.” You said, quickly changing the subject. — “I don’t want to go!” You whined. Your father had been invited to a ball and you and your sisters were going. Only you didn’t want to.

“Even I want to go.” Peggy said.

“Well you’re outgoing. I’m gonna spend the whole time by myself and not talking to anyone. That’s what happens when you’re shy.” You complained. You were stood in your room with Eliza and Peggy, both were trying to convince you that the Washington Winter Ball would be fun. You hated parties though. You always ended up along one of the walls alone and tried to be unnoticed. You didn’t enjoy being alone but you preferred it over talking to strangers.

“Then I’ll help you.” Angelica said, suddenly appearing. She starting looking through the gowns in your closet. “You’ll look absolutely stunning and I won’t leave your side until you’ve captivated some guy’s attention.”

“But I want you to enjoy the evening too.” You told her.

“Don’t worry Y/N. Once you get past hello it’s easy.” She told you.

“It doesn’t seem easy.” You grumbled.

“Here. Put this dress on.” Angelica ordered, holding out the mass of fabric. Your sister knew you too well. It was an elegant dress the fit you well. It was also very breathable and comfortable, which was always better when you were nervous. So you grabbed it from her and went about putting on all the layers. Angelica was already prepared for the ball so she spent the evening helping you get ready.

After getting dressed, she helped you with your hair. She pinned it up but allowed a few strands to hang loose and frame your face. Then she added some light make-up to enhance your features. “There.” She said as she finished and stepped back. “Stunning.” Then she shrugged. “But that’s no different than usual.”

“Thanks Angie.” You said with a smile.

“Anything for my little sis.” She responded. Peggy and Eliza ran into the room.

“Father is ready when ever we are.” Peggy announced. So you all climbed into a carriage together to go to Mount Vernon.

“So who else is excited to meet some soldiers?” Angelica started gushing.

“Seriously Angelica?” Eliza asked her with a slight laugh.

“Oh come on! You know that a majority of boys there tonight will be some soldiers. And there’s something about a guy in a uniform.” She said. You laughed at your eldest sister. However, she turned out to be right. Almost all of the men present were wearing blue coats, the sure sign of a soldier.

Peggy and Eliza flitted off almost immediately. “Aren’t you gonna run off to find a soldier?” You asked Angelica.

“Not until we find you one.” She said and slung her arm over your shoulders. Then Eliza found her way back over.

“Y/N, follow me.” She said and grabbed your arm. She led you through the crowd and came to a stop. “Look.” She said and pointed across the room. You looked and saw the man from downtown a few weeks back. He was much closer than before and you could see some freckles. His curls were pulled back into a slightly poofy pony tail. You could only stare.

The man laughed at something another man had said. He glanced around and noticed you staring. He gave you a crooked smile and a small wave. Your eyes widened and you cheeks went pink. You lifted your hand in a weak wave. He smiled wider and you quickly looked down at your shoes. “I think he likes you.” Angelica sing-songed.

“I think he was just being nice.” You mumbled.

“Hm…let’s find out.” Angelica said and left your side. You looked up to see her approaching the soldier. Your stomach twisted nervously as she started talking to him. He smiled and nodded at something. Then Angelica started walking back toward you.

“Nope. I can’t do it. I gotta go.” You mumbled to Eliza.

“Oh no. You’re staying here.” Eliza chided and held onto your wrist. You got more nervous being unable to run.

“These are my sisters. Eliza and Y/N.” Angelica said as she approached.

“And I need to go find Peggy.” Eliza said and scurried off.

The man looked confused but shrugged it off. “Well, pleasure to meet you Y/N.” The man said and held out a hand. You placed your hand in his, eyes cast downward. “I’m John Laurens.” He raised your hand to his lips to pressed a soft kiss to the back. You cheeks went pink once more. “Can you honor me with a dance?” He asked. You nodded mutely.

He smiled widely and led you to the dance floor. He spun you around and chattered nonsense for a while. Eventually you slowed to a stop as a song ended. “Am I boring you?” He asked.

“Huh?”

“Well, we’ve been dancing and I’ve been trying to talk but you haven’t said anything back.” He said with a shrug. “I can leave if you want.”

“No its not that!” You assured him. “I’m just really shy. I don’t really know what to say and I don’t really talk to strangers well but I really like dancing with you and your endless chatter was really funny and-”

“Y/N.” John said, getting your attention and cutting off your rambling with a smile. “Let’s keep dancing.” He offered. You smiled and let him continue to lead you through the steps. You danced with him most of the night. Whenever you needed a break, he’d stay to the side with you. You opened up a little bit through the night, but you were still too shy to say much.

The night was drawing to a close and John was still at your side. Angelica huffed as she came back over. “Well at least two of my baby sisters hooked up.” She said. You blushed. You and John weren’t any form of offical.

“Who’d Eliza find?” You asked having seen Peggy alone only a few minutes ago.

“His name is Alexander Hamilton.” She answered.

“Seriously? That’s the closest friend I got.” John said with a small laugh. “Imagine that.” He added, nudging you lightly. It pulled a small, shy smile from you.

Angelica looks between you two. “Ya know, Alexander is going to start writing Eliza. Are you going to be receiving any letters Y/N?” She asked, knowing the answer at this point is no.

“Oh well…I don’t know.” You mumbled but glared at her.

“Trust me, she opens up a lot more if she’s writing.” Angelica told John.

“And she is still standing here.” You quipped.

“Well in that case.” John turned to look at you. “Would she give me the honor of writing?” He asked, emphasizing it as a joke. One that made you smile. You nodded happily. — Angelica was right. You were more open over letters. You and John would have personal conversations, even if it was over paper. Even though you’ve met him once, you really cared for him. Writing letters took away the face to face. You couldn’t see his reactions so you didn’t fear it as much. Sure it wasn’t as intimate but it was still personal. You were finishing up your latest letter to him.

‘Reply as soon as you find the time.

I lo-’

You stilled. You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t admit that in a letter. You growled in annoyance.

-ng to see you again.

Your’s truly, Y/N’

You sighed as you stuffed the letter in an envelope. Angelica walked into the room. “I’ve never seen anyone so annoyed about writing to their lover.” She said.

“John Laurens isn’t my lover. We haven’t even said the L-word.” You said.

“Really?” Angelica asked.

“I want to say it but I can’t put it in a letter.” You sighed.

“Then you’ll need to tell him in person.” Angelica said with a shrug. “Now come on. Eliza needs some support right now. Alexander is asking father if he can marry her.”

So you and your sisters sat with Eliza, who was so anxious. She was anxious until Alexander came and found her with a large smile on his face. She laughed and ran forward as he wrapped her in a hug. — You smiled as you watched John and his friends tease Alexander. He came back over to you as Aaron Burr walked up to Alexander. John smiled at you and slung his arm over your shoulder. “Hey John?” You asked.

“Yeah?”

“Can we talk? Privately?” You asked meekly.

“Yeah, sure.” He said. He led you off to the corner of the room, away from all the party-goers. “What do you need?” He asked calmly.

“I need to talk to you.” You started trying to gain some courage. You were so nervous. This was way outside of your comfort zone.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. “Is this about…us?” He asked hesitantly.

“Yeah actually.” You said and he started looking worried. “Oh it’s not bad!” You said quickly.

“It’s not?”

“No. I don’t want to leave you, not at all. In fact I…” You paused again. You had to say it but you couldn’t. It wasn’t that you were scared but you definitely worried about John’s reaction. He noticed your anxiety and pulled you into hug. He ran his fingers through your hair.

“You can tell me anything. You know that.” John pulled back slightly and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I…” You took a step back and stared at your feet. “I love you.” You mumbled, apparently too quietly.

“You what?” John asked crouching down to try to catch your gaze.

You took a deep breath but refused to look up at John. You couldn’t stand to watch his reaction. “I love you.” You said again, a bit louder and more clear. John didn’t say anything so you cautiously looked up at him. He was smiling widely, beaming at you.

“I love you too.” He leaned closer but paused. “I uh…can I kiss you?” He asked cautiously. You smiled and nodded. He leaned down and pressed his lips softly to yours. He kissed you softly and sweetly. One arm was wrapped lightly around your waist. His other hand was pressing between your shoulder blades. You were gripping the front of his blue coat. He pulled back and stared at you with a smile. “You know, I wanted to tell you that I love you for a long time now. I just didn’t want to freak you out.”

“I wanted too also, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell you in a letter. So I had to do it in person.” You said. “Even though that was the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”

John leaned down to kiss you softly once more. “Well you did it. Now I can say I love you all I want.” He kissed you once again. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You said with a small giggle. — The war was over. Alexander had been home for weeks. Lafayette and Hercules had even come over to check in with you and your sisters. None of them had heard from John since he left for South Carolina. You were a little worried, of course. War meant you could lose those you cared about. John had managed to find a new side of you, a more open side. You didn’t want to lose him or that side.

You were sat in your room, re-reading John’s letters to you. You had a small smile on your face as you read his sweet words to you. Then there was a knock on the door. Angelica stuck her head in. “Hey, dad wants you downstairs in the foyer.” She informed you.

So you left your room and headed for the stairs. You bounded down and went to the foyer. You froze as you rounded the corner and walked in. John stood there, patiently waiting with a small smile, a smile that grew when he saw you. You let out a small squeal and ran forward and jumped into his arms. He laughed with you as he lifted you and spun you around.

“You’re ok!” You exclaimed happily when he set you down.

“Of course. For you.” He said with a smile and followed by a short kiss. “And I have something I need to ask you.” He said.

“What would that be?” You inquired.

And John dropped to one knee and pulled a ring from his pocket and held it out to you. “You may be shy, but I got to know you. You were open to me and I think that means something. So, will you do me the honor of becoming me wife?”

You were shocked but didn’t hesitate to respond. “Yes!” — Dress? Check. It was beautiful and flattering. You felt gorgeous in it.

Bridesmaids? Check. Angelica was your maid of honor since she got you and John talking.

Groom? Check. That was the main thing, John was here and so we’re his groomsmen. Alexander was his best man.

The one thing not in check? Your nerves. It’s a wedding. It’s promising your life to another. If it were just you and John, you’d be fine. But it’s your entire family as well as John’s. There’s so many people watching. And it was nerve wracking.

Angelica poked her head in the room you were waiting in. “Ready?” She asked happily. You looked over at her and she must have noticed the fear in your features because she stepped inside the room. “What’s wrong?”

“I…I’m just so nervous. I love John, I really do. But I’m so scared of going up there and in front of everyone and saying my vows.” You admitted.

Angelica gave you a small smile. Her wedding was a few months ago. She walked closer and grabbed your hands. “Y/N, I promise you this. You feel so nervous just before those doors open. Then, your eyes will land on John and everything else will disappear. It will be just the two of you.” She pulled you into a quick hug. “Now go marry that solider of yours.”

So you stood with your father, anxious for the doors to open. You heard the organ begin the traditional wedding march then the heavy wooden doors were opened. The knot in your stomach tightened. Everyone was going stare at you and watch. Then you locked eyes with John through your veil.

His eyes were a bit misty but he was smiling. Everything else did, in fact, seem to disappear. John was all you could focus on. You blushed under his gaze and cast a glance down at your shoes. You took a deep breath and looked back up. He smiled widely at you once more. You stood in front on John, staring at him the whole time. You spoke when prompted and said your “I do’s”

“I now pronounce you Mr and Mrs John Laurens. You may kiss the bride.” The priest said. John smiled widely again. He leaned in and pressed a short kiss to your lips. He pulled back slightly and gazed at you.

“I love you John Laurens.” You whispered, as quiet as you had said it the first time, but much more confidently this time. However, now he was close enough to hear and smiled.

“I love you too Y/N Laurens.” He said, using your shared last name for the first time. You smiled as you heard it. The organ started playing, breaking you and John from your mentally created solitude. You turned and walked out of the chapel, arms hooked together. You had changed so much with John at your side. There were still times you were shy and quiet but John was beside you, now and forever. You had nothing to be shy about with him at your side.