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darklydeliciousdesires · 3 years

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Out from Darkness - A vampire!Chris Hemsworth/OC Halloween special story.

So here it is, guys, although it fills me exclusively with trepidation to share this as I am unusually unconfident in what I’ve written. It’s set to be a full length story, I was going to post the second chapter later tonight, but I’ll see how well received it is first, I think! I’m going to work myself up into a state while I wait for feedback, or have a troubled nap, either way, arrrrgh!!

Note - Some vampire lore is that of Bram Stoker, some a little Charlaine Harris, and the rest my own. I thought I’d mix together in order to create how I wanted my version of the undead to be :)

Masterlist

Word count - 3,870

Cast of characters post here

Tag list - In the comments

Warnings - Chris as a vampire, witches, magic.

In the dim light coming from the many candles lit around her bedroom, Ava sat cross legged on her bed, concentrating hard on the dried flower in front of her. Tuning out all other noises, her mind going blank, she allowed the energy to flow, watching as the gerbera daisy rose up off the bed, smiling as with her hands outstretched but not touching it, she manipulated its path through the air, the dead flower dancing up and down.

Focusing upon the stem, she made it float upright, concentrating extra hard as she imagined what she wished to happen. “Flower of the earth, bloom once more. Come back from death and burst forth with colour.” It wasn’t a real incantation, but she had read that calling for what you wished sometimes did assist the process, Ava’s eyes focusing in on the petals, willing the dead to be pulled out.

“Miss Ava! Dinner is almost ready!”

At these words following the knock at the door, the flower fell from its levitated position, Ava muttering. “Okay, Aubrey. Coming.” Sighing, she scrambled off her bed, placing the still dead flower back into its vase arrangement on the dressing table of her bedroom that was entirely too girly for her tastes, save a few items here and there she’d successfully begged her mother for.

Blowing out all the candles, she excited her room, seeing their housekeeper Aubrey descending the large spiral staircase of the grand home she lived in. Of course, the big, fancy house came with the big, fancy title held by her father, governor of California, Mitchell Martin. Their South Arroyo home was lavish, to say the least

“Honey! How was college?” The man himself greeted her with, standing from the dining table to hug her, kissing her cheek. He’d been gone on business for a couple of days, this the first time she’d seen him since he arrived back.

“Pretty good, yeah. I dressed my model in my first piece this morning, it’s all ready to sew tomorrow. The pattern worked well, fortunately!” Ava was a textile student in her last year of college, with aspirations on designing her own clothes for a living. Her father wanted her to be the 2100’s version of Coco Chanel, but Ava was more modest. A boutique or two would be sufficient.

“Yes, wonderful!” Of course, he wasn’t really listening. He never was when the food was served, it wasn’t personal. He couldn’t be blamed, their chef, Andre, was next level. That evening, he’d served jumbo shrimp, curried with saffron rice and homemade cardamon seeded naan breads. Her father was a big fan of spicy foods.

“Okay, Rayleigh. Your turn to lead us in prayer tonight,” her mother spoke as she sat down, her eyes sparkling with fondness as she took in her three children. Ava was the eldest at nineteen, then Hallie next at thirteen, and Rayleigh the youngest at ten. The family joined hands around the table, bowing their heads.

“Bless us oh lord, for the food we are about to receive. May we be nourished by it as we are your love, guidance and mercy. Amen.”

“Amen.”

“Beautiful, Rayleigh. Enjoy, everybody.” Ava thought it sounded so phony of her mother to speak that way, almost like it was her culinary efforts they were about to sample. The closest she got to cooking was advising Andre over menu choices. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d made anyone in the family something to eat, but thought on it as she began to eat through her first mouthful of curry.

‘Birthday cake? No. Sandwich? No. Ahh, yeah. Mashed potatoes after I had strep throat.’ It wasn’t a bone of contention at all for Ava; she found it more humorous than anything. After all, her mother had sat up with her into the small hours just two weeks ago, helping her hand stitch a project that had gone drastically wrong, wanting her daughter not to fail and also to be able to get more than four hours of sleep as well.

Sadie Martin might not know her way around the kitchen, or be able to give the location of any cleaning products within her home, but she was most certainly hands on with raising her children. She sat and listened diligently as all three explained their plans for the following evening after the press visit they would have to attend, posing for pictures, the perfect, all-American family handing out candy to trick or treaters in celebration of Halloween.

“We’re going urban exploring. Well, less urban and more forest and surrounding areas,” Ava revealed when it was her turn. “Austen wants to get some night shots of the trees and the sky and so forth, so Megan and I said we’d go with him too up to the forest.”

What she meant by forest was in fact the sprawling, natural beauty that was Angeles National Forest Park, about a half hour walk from their home.

“Are you going to go to the vampire house?” Rayleigh chirped excitedly, sandwiching curry into his naan bread, his mother tapping his hand in reprimand for scattering rice everywhere.

“You and your silly stories, son!” Her father interjected, shaking his head.

“It’s true, there’s one up there!”

“We might pass it by and take some shots, but we’re not going simply for that, no.” Ava informed him, thinking her brother and Austen shared the same enthusiasm there. He also believed the tale of the vampire of Angeles Forest, people swearing that just for a moment, they’ve seen a shadowy figure lingering around in the undergrowth of the abandoned cabin up there, the figure always gone within a blink.

It was a tale that had existed for as long as Ava or either of her parents could remember, her own grandmother even attesting to have once seen him. Of course, most viewed the story with much dubiety. Vampires were creatures steeped in myth and folklore; not real entities in modern day Pasadena, or anywhere else for that matter.

“Well, you be careful. Home by eleven, too.”

Her friends would be allowed to remain out much later, but Ava, being the governor’s daughter, had an image to uphold. One she was increasingly becoming frustrated with. She loved her parents dearly and was immensely proud of her father’s career trajectory, but it left very little room for freedom, any kind of freedom. Mostly though, to be the person she truly was.

Case in point, her abilities. She could never tell her parents that she was able to move things with her mind, or that it wasn’t purely coincidental that lightbulbs would blow when she became angry (which wasn’t often, but still) or that she’d once successfully changed the colour of her eyes temporarily, her mother thinking she had contact lenses in. They were stalwart Christians; they’d see her abilities as ungodly, as some form of heresy. Ava knew this well.

The word witch couldn’t be uttered within their home without negative connotations arising, Ava knew this for certain without ever having done it. She often thought that her parents were likely descended from those who would tie her kind to a stake and light a pyre beneath, back when the witch burnings were sweeping the globe. Then of course she reasoned, she had to have gotten what she was from somewhere in her family line. She doubted she was quite that much of an anomaly.

They wouldn’t care that she only ever used her abilities for good, though, like extinguishing the flames that had once threatened to burn the kitchen down once when Andre had a flambe related mishap, or that she’d saved her little brother from having a falling pot of paint land on him when they were having the house redecorated, making it splatter on the floor next to him rather atop his head.

Well, mostly she used them for good. There had been a few instances back in school of her bullies ending up with pubic lice or nasty rashes, but she’d administered a counter spell for them after a short time, once her amusement was served. She didn’t tend to do much of that ilk any longer, unless she saw a real injustice. She’d once viewed a man slapping his wife, not just once, but multiple times. He’d swiftly been set upon by two angry seagulls.

That was the extent of it, though. Ava knew she could use them for a lot more, command much more. She also knew she was getting stronger as well, but she had a wise head for her young years and a good heart. She wasn’t interested in anything past being able to help others secretly and help herself a little where needed.

For instance, as she got ready after posing for press pictures with her family and finishing some assignment notes the following evening, locating her keys presented an issue.

Holding out her hand, she closed her eyes momentarily and concentrated. “Keys.” A second later, and they’d uncovered themselves from beneath her pile of dirty laundry and flown into her outstretched hand. “Okay, and she’s ready.”

It would have taken a mere few minutes to drive, but without a car at that moment and with so many sights to see through the neighbourhood with it being Halloween, she and her friends decided to walk instead, both Megan and Austen living locally, meeting her outside the front gates to her home.

“Woah, your decorations are insane!” Austen exclaimed, appreciating the witches that flew around the trees on hidden mechanisms, the ghosts that drifted up and down behind the wall and the large spider climbing up and down the tall, wrought iron gate itself. Blake, their groundskeeper had definitely excelled himself that year.

They took the suburbs route over to the forest, heading down small streets rather than taking the main roads, enjoying the festivities, the decorations, the kids running around and having fun.

“No way, look! Life sized horror characters from old movies! See, there’s Freddie Kruger, and Leatherface, and Michael Myers!” Megan laughed, pointing at the figures scattered across the lawn they were about to pass. Appreciating how real they looked, the trio nearly dived out of their skin when Michael Myers suddenly sprang to life with a scary shout, laughing thereafter while they screamed, Ava and Megan clutching each other, Austen tripping down the kerb.

“Happy Halloween, kids! Here, even though you’re not dressed up and likely think you’re too old, take some candy, come on.” The man spoke, offering forth a large bucket containing a plethora of full-sized candy bars. Making their choices, they thanked him and continued, laughing after calming down from their fright, Austen feeling a little ridiculous he’d screamed quite as loudly. Still, the chocolate went a way to take the sting out of his embarrassment.

As they walked, Ava chewing through her mouthful of caramel and peanut buttery goodness, she remarked at how lovely everything looked, how real it all was. Her home might have had some of the best decorations for miles around, but it was all fake, all so contrived. It was glossy, purely for the photo opportunity. None of it was real. Everything had a feel of shiny, glossiness to it in the Martin household.

Her parents wouldn’t even open the door to the trick or treaters. Aubrey or another of the house staff would likely be sent while her father reclined in his lounge with a scotch and a Ridley Scott movie, her mother certainly punishing herself in the gym before partaking of a steam. It hadn’t always been like that, but it certainly had since her father attained the position of governor four years ago. Life seemed less authentic now they had a show to put on.

Heading further out, ducking down side roads and around larger patches of grass until the houses became fewer and further between, they reached the route that led to the forest just as the light was beginning to fade, Austen removing his camera and beginning to take shots of the sun setting through the trees.

Walking further in, they happened upon one of Austen’s favourite things to capture, the budding photographer always finding something new in the gigantic meteor that had fallen to earth along with hundreds of thousands of others eighty-six years ago that coming December.

It had been a cataclysmic event, one that experts predicted would wipe out the human race almost in its entirety, but life, as always, had found a way. It had taken the time between for the remaining people to rebuild, repopulate and continue, but it had been a success. Of course, it did mean that life was no further along than it was back in 2042, technologically speaking, but at least they had life at all.

The girls chatted while their budding photographic genius chose angles to shoot, the kids all looking upon the giant rock with quiet awe and respect for dead, feel extra thankful for the lives they got to lead, when so many family lines had been wiped out.

“I know one of us inevitably says this every time, but I’m so glad we weren’t alive back then. It must have been so scary,” Megan mused, hugging Ava’s arm as they looked up at the meteor, shattered and ragged from its descent through the atmosphere when it struck earth.

“Remember when those survivors came in to talk to us about it in high school? It still gives me a lump in my throat.” Yes, it was something Ava would never forget, her and her classmates, not a dry eye in the room as an elderly man recounted the time when he’d watched the earth burn.

On they continued, scoping out further scenes to shoot, wandering through the giant, redwood trees while Austen continued to click, following the trail right around to the small lake. Past there, the trail narrowed, heading downhill, the forest floor providing some more beautiful treasures for Austen, fungi, wild flowers and the like which he adjusted his camera flash to and captured, the girls chattering between themselves.

“That reminds me, with him shooting flowers. Did you have any luck?” Of course, Ava’s best friends knew she was a witch. She was lucky that they didn’t judge her for it, like other people had if they’d noticed strange things emanating from her. In fact, they both thought it was cool and were very supportive of her.

It made a change, since Ava had long been bullied throughout school for being weird and now at college wasn’t overly popular either, being the governor’s daughter. Well, except the phonies who feigned friendship to see what they could get out of her rather than for genuine reasons, but she saw through those people swiftly enough.

“I tried, but Aubrey came knocking and ruined my concentration. I was going to give it another go tonight, but I didn’t get chance with the photo shoot and all,” she lamented, jumping up on a fallen tree and looking down the hill, just about able to see the top of the cabin which everyone dubbed the vampire house.

“Try with this leaf, here. He’s busy, we’re just milling around, so give it a go!” her friends enthusiasm was touching, Ava smiling thinly and taking the dead leaf from her, holding it between her thumb and forefinger as she focused, letting go once she had it in her mind’s grasp. She knew what she had to do, imagine she was pulling the death out of it, but gosh, it wasn’t easy. Imagine a regular person trying to slide a security door open after the electrics had failed; that was the difficulty it was akin to for Ava.

Staring hard, the leaf began to twizzle around, fluttering in an unseen breeze, Ava honing in all her focus on it, her hands shaking at her sides as she stared until her eyes hurt, vaguely aware of Austen creeping over to watch, Megan’s face suddenly lighting up.

“It’s going green!” she squeaked in whisper. To her delight, she witnessed it, the brown, crispiness replaced by the slow spread of green, the veins all moistening as she dragged the dead out of it with her mind, her head suddenly beginning to burn.

“Ava, stop now. Your nose.” Austen said with concern, watching as a drip of blood ran onto her lip. Just then, Ava felt a huge wave of energy hit her, the rest of the leaf immediately turning bright green within a fraction of a second. Reaching, she grasped it, Megan taking a tissue and dabbing her nose, a common side effect if she tasked herself too hard.

“You did it!” She enthused, Ava continuing to examine her accomplishment.

“I didn’t think I was going to either, but then I just felt this massive influx of energy and my abilities spiked hugely. Wow, that was incredible.” Pleased with herself, she pocketed the leaf, wanting to take it home and cast it in resin (as was a hobby of hers for jewellery making purposes) as a little trophy of the first thing she’d brought back to life.

“Maybe this is you continuing to get stronger? Either way, we’re very proud of our little magical person.” Austen began to clap, Megan joining in too as they beamed and then hugged her, all of them walking off in search of the next photographic opportunity. All the while, Ava noticed that the energy she’d felt when using resurgence upon the leaf continued to hum around her, growing even, her body lightly starting to tingle the further they walked.

Taking the path to the right where it forked, which led back in the direction they would have entered in should they have followed the main roads up there, they continued to stop every so often, Austen changing lenses and managing to get a beautiful shot of an owl in a nearby tree, proudly showing it off to his friends. On they continued, this time their destination clear; the cabin. The vampire house.

It had likely once been very beautiful, but now was sadly in a shabby state, covered in moss and creeper vines all over, the surroundings all overgrown, save a path that trailed the perimeter and was just about clear enough to walk. Stone steps took them down to the house itself, Ava feeling the energy grow with each further footfall, stopping for a moment to gather herself. It must have been something residual from her success with the leaf, because she’d walked past the old cabin many a time in the past and never noticed anything.

With the almost full moon shining through the trees, the way was lit well enough for them to abandon the torch, walking around the property, Austen even attempting to peer in. “No way, this wasn’t here before! Look at this, these are window tints to prevent the light getting in! They mean a room can be illuminated, but they won’t actually let sunshine in. You can see out, but no one can see in either. See? That’s a huge giveaway that the rumours are true!”

“Those windows have been like that for years, come on! You’re reaching, as usual!” Megan scoffed, pulling him away from the window, shaking her head. Ava turned and laughed softly, watching them continue around, calling to her that they’d be down the other side where a small stream ran through.

“Alright.” She called back absently, recognising a few flowers that she’d been hunting down for spells and picking a few, placing them safely into her pocket along with the leaf. Continuing to walk, she found more, excited to see them blooming so late in the year still. She’d almost filled her pocket and was ready to head down to the stream when she suddenly felt something behind her, something strong, the energy she’d felt previously now staggeringly robust.

She felt her back ripple and stiffen, like she’d just leaned against a sheet of ice, all the tiny hairs upon her body rising up as her breath caught in her throat. Behind her, lurked someone, or something, the energy pouring from the unseen entity. She could feel it so palpably, and whatever it was, it wasn’t human. Frozen to the spot, Ava closed her eyes, gulping hard. ‘Don’t turn around, don’t turn around, don’t turn around.’

Her heart thundered in her ears, mouth drying, body jolting with fright when she heard a low, rumbling rattle of a growl coming from right behind her, the noise neither human nor animal, but definitely all beast. She knew she had to open her eyes at some point, open her eyes and get herself out of there. She couldn’t remain frozen to the spot.

Her eyelids finally fluttered open to reveal nothing, Ava blinking a few times. It was in the space between one of those blinks that he suddenly appeared, the entity she’d felt so strongly. Tall, pale, well-built and staggeringly handsome, staring down at her with a look of piqued curiosity.

Dumbly, she just started back, held fast by his gaze, the moonlight catching the azure of his irises as he leaned in closer to her, studying her, smelling her, narrowing his eyes, a grin beginning to spread across his face. Ava wasn’t entirely sure whether such was sexy, or sinister. All she did know was that no one had ever looked at her quite that intently before in all her life.

She thought her heart was about to beat clean out of her chest, daring to blink just once, in that blink finding herself alone once more. ‘What on... who on earth, no, what on earth, was that? Was he?’

“Ava? Where are you? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, coming!” She called, running around the back of the cabin, following the sound of Austen’s voice.

“Hey, you look flushed, are you alright? Didn’t meet anyone, did you?” He teased hopefully when she arrived with them. Ava could still feel him lurking close by, but out of sight, off of anyone else’s radar but hers. Her friends were none the wiser.

“No, there’s not a soul around, unfortunately for you. I guess the stories are just stories after all. Come on, let’s go.”

“Yeah, alright,” he began reluctantly, turning and getting one more shot of the house. “At least I got some decent pictures, though.”

Heading off, she hung behind, not able to resist turning back one last time.

“Bye.” She whispered into the darkness; her attention attracted by the sudden presence of two glowing red eyes shining out from within the trees, one closing and then opening again. It was him, although she had no idea how his eyes had changed from blue to red, it was definitely him who just winked at her. She knew exactly what that wink conveyed, too. It said thank you, for not revealing his presence to her friends.

Was he a vampire, though? A ghost? Neither?

Whatever he was, Ava had never felt an energy like his before. She was also certain that no matter how frightened of him she’d been, her curiosity would lead her back, even though she knew she probably shouldn’t let it.

#chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth fanfiction #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth fic #chris hemsworth vampire #chris hemsworth x ofc #chris hemsworth x oc #vampire #vampires #vampire fanfiction #vampire fanfic #vampire fic

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idanit · 3 years

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possibly underappreciated Good Omens fics I enjoyed once upon a time

Indirectly inspired by a video series about fanfiction I watched, I decided to pull together a list of Good Omens fics I have bookmarked as stories I enjoyed, but which have less than 250-300 kudos at the time I’m writing this. No particular order. They’re accompanied by short excerpts from my private fic reading notes (not originally intended to be read by anyone but me, mind), sometimes slightly edited for clarity—and, sometimes, the comments I left on the fics.

This list sat in my drafts for a long time and the recent S2 announcement reminded me of it. I’d love it if it inspired you to do something similar! Spread the love.

And mind the tags, please.

△ = general and teen ▲ = mature and explicit

thermodynamic equilibrium ▲ 7K the author has such an ear for dialogue and is unapologetic about what they want to write the characters like. They think of the characters as a mix of TV and book canon, but they feel like a homemade blend to me. (...) It’s very funny.

such dear follies ▲ 6K I can really picture this Aziraphale—Crowley as well, but her especially. She’s rather distinct. (...) Nice writing.

The Words Were With - △ 1.2K post-Blitz vignette, Aziraphale realizes what he feels and wonders if they're human enough for this. I liked it, and I liked the tag "transhumanism, but in reverse?", too—what an interesting idea. I'd say it's a vignette in a dire need of a follow-up, but, well, there's the show. The show is the follow-up. It fits very nicely within the canon and I totally believe it could have happened, like a deleted scene.

Gossip and Good Counsel △ 19K/? I love their companionship and how they're set up to be opposites by the management even though they get on pretty well. It feels very in keeping with the canon, but I feel like the fact that it's an F/F set in this particular time period adds a meaningful layer to the situation. It's women supporting each other in the world of men, working with the personas that are created for them, but, privately, being normal, well-rounded people. (...) and of course your writing is always a pleasure to read. (...) SDHDGDHDHDG Maisie is truly an Aziraphale.

Crowley Went Down to Georgia (he was looking for a soul to steal) △ 6K This was nice. Based on a song I didn’t know. Crowley goes to a funeral in the USA, one of a fiddler he knew and lost a bet to once. (...) The fic has not one but two songs composed for it and embedded inside it and that makes it even better. I really enjoyed the experience.

The Thing With Feathers △ 18K WARLOCK you'rE HORRIBLE AND I LOVE IT I would read an entire novel-length fic just of Crowley fighting his battles with Warlock. Written like this? It would be a blast. (...) The OCs are believably characterized and well-loved by the story. (...) Everyone seems to need a friend in this house. (...) This was so fun, and at the same time, their mission has weight here (...) We wonder about what the future holds even though we know it.

Here Quiet Find △ 11K This fic aimed for my head and the aim was sure precise. It was a story of Crowley sensing Aziraphale's distress and finding him in a self-quarantined English village in the seventeenth century, tired and anxious. It's hurt/comfort, so there was washing and bedsharing and I had to love it, so I did.

outside of time △ 2K Post-Almostgeddon, (...) nicely-written, short, but strung with a soft kind of tension and unspoken words. There's no drama, just "can we really", and "do you really" of sudden freedom. They fall into being inseparable. Book canon, which I like for this story (sitting on a tarmac). I liked the footnotes. There's a mention of Eliot. All in all, very much yes.

She'asani Yisrael △ 2K It’s Crowley going through a two-hour service and drinking blessed wine. He also keeps an eye on a boy he was asked to. It’s 1946. It was pretty good, so far the best Jewish GO fic, I think, from the ones I’ve read.

To Guard The Eastern Gate △ 11K I loved it. You really made Sodom feel lived-in; the description of Keret, Hurriya and Yassib's house and relationship were great. I got attached to both them and the city (...) Aziraphale and Crawley’s interactions were generally very entertaining. I laughed (...) Your rendering of their voices just lands so well (...) But then oh, the entire ending (...) hurt, hurt a lot, and your descriptions are so vivid.

If you’ve been waiting (for falling in love) △ 14K AAAAA a good ending line. The whole paragraph, in fact. I love a good smattering of philosophy in my fics, and this was really nice. I can get behind Thomas Aequinus's and Crowley's view on eternity. It's (...) a pretty simple fic (...) - the courage to express yourself and take a risk is awarded with winning what was at stake by the virtue of reciprocity - but the way it was intertwined with a study of how they would experience a forever was done well.

Holy unnecessary ▲ 2.2K It's well-written. (...) this is my type of sexual humour if I have any. So subtle. Blink and you'll miss it. Lovely.

The Parting Glass △ 17K Through the ages, they're dancing around their relationship until after the Armageddoff. (...) Wow, this was really, really nice. Very simple in its concept and nothing I haven't read before, but very well-executed. (...) AAAAH I LOVED the first chapter. I always like abbeys as settings, that's a given, but the banter, the good writing, the moral ambiguity!

Name The Sky △ 33K This Crowley is different, but very intriguing. Without his sarcastic talk, and much more animalistic. (...) I love how expressive Crowley is. (...) This fic has a very nice balance of drama and levity. I don't love Crowley-before-the-Fall stories very much, but with this execution I can read about it. (...) Okay I've read Crowley offering fruits, and even Aziraphale biting fruits, but the two of them sharing the apple? Outstanding. Ingenious. What a take.

A Flame in Your Heart △ 5K post-Blitz (why are so many dance fics post-Blitz?), they go to the bookshop and have an actually believable conversation. Then they dance the gavotte. It was really nice! Believable writing, emotions, the dancing! (...) Of course it's too early for them, (...) but the author's note? yeah.

Put down the apple, Adam, and come away with me ▲ 32K At this point it's just reading original stories with characters with names and some personality traits that I recognize. (...) I really enjoy this, the careful dance, the opposition between their views. (...) This is well-written, wow. (...) it's not an easy read (...) this story feels very believably 50s, but also reaches out to the present time.

Liebestraum ▲ 10K/? It really is like music. I'm enjoying the writing a lot. (...) oh my actual god. This, this? Wow, uh. This came for my throat. (...) THE MUSICAL COMPOSITION, THE MOTIF RETURNING, THE AUTHOR KNOWS WHERE IT'S AT (...) Excellent. This hits the right beats so precisely, (...) and with feeling, too.

Down Comforter △ 2.4K and they lay down in angeldown, a soft rug ‘neath their heads– alright. Well, Crowley lies under Aziraphale's wing on a Persian rug after the Apocalypse, and they talk (...). It was sweet.

The Corsair of Carcosa △ 5K Crowley wakes up from a nap, visits Aziraphale for some drinking, and they read The King in Yellow that he happens to own. Good writing, so I'm bought. Aziraphale mentions Beardsley, so I'm bought twice over. My god, a discussion of etheral/occult madness? Caused by some wrong/true reading? Yes.

Very Good, Omens! △ 6K It's rather well-written, well-pastiched. People don't do that too often, nowadays - try to write in the style of a particular writer. (...) I love wordplay like this.

Reviving Robin Hood: The Complicated Process of Crème Brûlée △ 30K it's well-written (...), has a rhythm to it, and quiet humour. (...) Finally some nice, good, light writing. The attention to detail! (...) I'm still reading most of it aloud, the rhythm of it compels me to. (...) okay this does sound like Pratchett&Gaiman, the Good Omens itself (...) The fic is meandering, hilarious, sensitive in all the right places, and overall lovely.

my dear acquaintance △ 1K Oh. Oh. Yes, yes! Aziraphale in Russia, Russia I've never been in, but I can feel the snow and the evening of. Very real, and the bar, too. Attention to detail - vodka flavoured with dill, what on earth? Yes. He would totally have a distinct taste in operas and he would totally complain about a subpar one. I'm glad Tchaikovsky's there.

there is a crack in everything △ 1.8K This was good! Ah. Inspired by a comment (...), I went looking for Mr. Harrison and Mr. Cortese fics—really, what a big brain moment someone had and why have I never thought to look for them? This is Crowley getting suddenly anxious and Aziraphale going out of his way, through all his layers of not-thinking and denial, to console him. I also really liked how the Arrangement is a carefully unacknowledged partnership-marriage.

Scales And Gold And Wings And Scars △ 6K No conflict, no plot, one tiny arc like a ripple on the surface of water on a calm sunny day - of Aziraphale discovering Crowley’s scars. It's the South Downs and it's early summer. They bask and swim in a spring. Non-sexual nudity, love in the air like a scent. Nice.

Nineteen Footnotes In Search Of A Story △ 0.4K This is a Good Omens story told only through footnotes. Your mind can fill in the gaps. Fascinating (...). Also, it’s an experiment so apt for this particular fandom.

Hell on Earth △ 6.5K Oh, I loved it! How could I not love it: it's Beelzebub-centric, it's historical, it has classical painting, and even a hilarious scene with a cuneiform phrase, as if I didn't enjoy this story enough already. There are so few Beelzebub fics out there and I find searching for them very difficult (I accept recs if anyone has any), and it's such a shame, so this was really like a gift to the fandom. I absolutely adore the way you portrayed them, small, frightening, powerful, and confident. Also, it was super fun to see how different Crowley seems when we're not in his POV or in a story about him and Aziraphale. (...)

Go Up to Ramoth-Gilead and Triumph △ 24K Daegaer is... pure class. (...) hdhdhdh what pfttt why you so funny (...) I love this Crowley. (...) This got unexpectedly intense. (...) I love the little nods to the fact that Israelites, especially the poorer ones, still believe in other gods. I also really like that they sleep on roofs. It's just the kind of detail that grounds the story and shows that the author is, in fact, a historian.

#good omens #good omens fic rec #fanfiction #fic rec #idanit reads #i also have a multifannish F/F rec list in the works #all my bookmarks are private but i feel the need to share the love

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melisusthewee · 3 years

Text

WIP Wednesday

This is a reminder to myself that I still need to make a fancy banner. Maybe I can do that tonight. Again, thank you to @morganlefaye79 and @kittynomsdeplume for tagging me!

I didn’t think I’d have anything to share, but I keep going back to that red lyrium fic I keep writing (and sharing) in spurts and it just keeps... growing. The good news is I know how I want to end it and writing it in bits and pieces here and there has actually been working out pretty well so far. Do I still have certain sections that I have to stitch together? Absolutely. But it’s a thing, at least, and I kind of like where it’s going?

So here is some fever dream because I imagined that even if you got all the red lyrium out of the wound as quickly as possibly, the infection is still there (based on the impression I got from all DAI’s codex entries about it).

Also, apologies to the bungled Elven... I couldn’t find anything that indicated there were words for simple “yes” and “no” affirmations. So I opted for something that was a sort of affirmation in contrast to “no” within the context it was spoken. A declaration of “you must endure” is sort of the closest I could get to the overall intention of the words.

Most of this is under a cut as it got a bit lengthy (over 900 words), but if you read all the way through it really does mean a lot to me, especially as feedback, thoughts, and constructive tips are always welcome.

He dreamed he was sitting in a garden. It might have been his aunt’s. He wasn’t too sure as he’d been in dozens across so many estates that they all seemed to blur together in thoughts of winding paths between hedges bursting with colourful blooms and twisted roots that could sometimes poke you in places you didn’t want them if you weren’t careful. This one felt familiar in a way he couldn’t quite describe and yet he couldn’t recall ever being here before. There were none of the sounds he tended to associate with places like these - the trickling of fountains, muffled voices or hushed giggles among the bushes, or the sweet sound of birdsong in the quieter places. Everything seemed to press in around him instead, causing the air to feel thick and humid in a way that didn’t seem quite right.

There were roses in bloom, or what he thought were roses at first. It was the petals, how they seemed so bright and red, but they were twisted into horrible shapes, seeming to bend and weep around him. There was a song, but he felt it more than he could hear it as it thrummed just beyond his senses. It hurt, he realized, as he brought up a hand to his head. The song was angry and red and it hurt.

He thought about getting to his feet, to find a place where there was no song and much needed cooler air. The garden seemed to shift around him in response, almost as if the hedgerows themselves were breathing, closing in and keeping him rooted where he was. He was tired. His head hurt. He should stay.

Yes, came a voice on the air, that seemed to wrap itself around him and caused an uncomfortable chill to run down his spine. Quinn sat up a little straighter, trying to concentrate on the stone bench beneath him and how it was not a soft place to nap.

Something rustled in the bushes, or perhaps it was the leaves themselves, shifting beneath flowers that bloomed ever more brightly. As they did, Quinn could feel the air get heavier and his head hurt more as the song rumbled beneath dark interlocking stones at his feet. It was dizzying and he felt sick, but all the paths seemed to disappear into nothingness. Even if he got to his feet, where would he possibly go?

Yes, the dream whispered again, and Quinn found he felt too tired to protest. He paused at the thought, knowing he should be laughing at the absurdity of being tired in his own dream, but the energy wasn’t there. As if in response, he heard the voice again, heavy and humid as the heat pressing in around him, but sounding a little more urgent, a little more cross. As it did, a flower burst suddenly, fracturing into pieces of bright red light which shone eerily like…

Something in his left palm prickled, an uncomfortable sensation radiating through his fingers. For a brief moment, the haze seemed to lift and the garden seemed to breathe outwards before beginning to close back in, but the relief was just enough for Quinn to manage to get to his feet. As he did, something in the air seemed to shift and he heard the garden whisper to him again, angrier this time. But there was something else, a voice that sounded familiar but words that did not. He felt he understood them anyway, the way they beckoned him to follow in tones that were more soothing than the angry song that rumbled and pushed back.

He felt the sensation in his hand again, stronger this time. More flowers fell away around him, but they were no longer quite as bright. His hand was brighter, he realized, fingers entwined with a cold light that seemed to bring a blessed relief from the heat that had seemed so suffocating. He took a breath - easier this time - and the garden seemed to breathe with him, closing in behind him as a walkway stretched out beyond his feet.

No, said the dream, hot and angry as it clawed at his mind.

Mala suledin nadas, said another, and Quinn felt its meaning more than he understood it. It was the crispness of fresh and open air, the gentle beauty and softer light of more welcoming gardens than this one, with bubbling fountains and the sounds of birds, and so many secret places to get lost in. That was what he wanted, he thought to himself, and the garden seemed to ripple around him in response, melting into unfocused shapes and colours that drifted away as the other voice, refreshing as a cold drink on a summer day danced ahead of him.

He reached for the voice, trying to make sense of the form that shifted just beyond his grasp, always one step too far ahead. As he did, he felt something brush against his hand, like the whisper of fingers interlocking with his own. His palm pricked again, and when it did Quinn saw six impossible eyes staring back at him from out of the void.

He awoke with a gasp - hot, delirious, and damp with sweat. As his surroundings shifted into focus, he found himself stretched out on his back, a woolen blanket tangled about his legs. The inside of the tent was dim and dark and mostly empty save for the figure Quinn could blearily see bent over him. Soft light flared up from his hand, pulsing with a dreamy blue-green light that he found oddly comforting in the darkness.

Tagging: @kita-lavellan @silvanils @rosella-writes @drag-on-age @darethshirl @inquisitoracorn @cleverblackcat

#wip wednesday #i may chuck a large portion of this #i am not yet sure #the fever dream was a lot different initially but then it just kept GOING and became this #red lyrium grows in an eldritch garden of the mind

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indigowallbreaker · 3 years

Note

67 AND 76 to follow up the Dimiashe awkward teenage crush? :)

(check out my ‘Dimiashe’ tag for parts one and two of this series, or you can read the whole thing here on ao3! #76 is so cute and good. whether this is the final part or not, it’s a great note to end on!)

67. When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, Are You Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More

76. Top Of Head Kisses

The euphoria of starting a relationship with Ashe didn’t last very long. Dimitri had suspected it wouldn’t. Within weeks of what Dimitri thought of as their first real kiss, the nightmares started again. He took to wandering between the training grounds and the library at night. If he could push himself to the point of exhaustion, sleep would have to come no matter what-- and if his mind was too weary to plague him, the nightmares might be driven off. At least for a little while.

It was easy to keep his insomnia from Ashe-- but Dedue could never be tricked. He often accompanied Dimitri only to try and sway him back to bed. Sometimes Dimitri managed to slip away and practice against a straw dummy until dawn, but other times Dimitri would follow Dedue’s orders only to pace in his dorm room.

Rest had become more important than ever with the visit to the Holy Tomb at the end of the month. And blessed by the Goddess or not, Professor Byleth still had tasks for their students to carry out. Dimitri could not let on how exhausted he was. Not to any of them. And especially not to Ashe.

But of course, he did, eventually, slip up.

“I wonder why Lady Rhea is allowing us to go with the Professor into the tomb?” Ashe mused one day at lunch. He and Dimitri sat at one end of the table while Dedue sat at the far end. Within eyesight, but still allowing the couple some privacy. “The legends say that Seiros had holy warriors with her when she received her revelation, but the Professor kind of already had that happen, right? And we were with them then too. I’m happy to go, don’t get me wrong! I just...” He trailed off. “Your Highness?”

Dimitri blinked his eyes open, not having realized they’d closed. “Oh-- yes?”

“Are you alright? You look like you’re not exactly here with me.”

“Sorry, Ashe. I am merely... a little tired today.”

The understatement did not go unnoticed. Ashe glanced over Dimitri’s shoulder before standing up and gathering his glass and utensils. Dimitri looked behind him and saw Dedue just returning to his food. What could they possibly have discussed with a singe look?

“I’ll take your tray,” Ashe said with gentle smile.

The tray was still partially full but Dimitri handed it over, not in the mood to force down another meal. “Are we going somewhere?”

“Yes. Follow me.” Ashe placed their trays at the end of the food line and took Dimitri’s hand to lead him away. They drew a few stares and more than a few giggles whenever they walked like this. Apparently a prince being so close with a commoner was amusing to the other students. Not that Dimitri cared what they thought-- and, after some convincing, neither did Ashe.

Dimitri could guess Ashe’s plan once they ascended the steps to the second floor dorm. “You’re going to try and make me nap, aren’t you?” Ashe didn’t reply, which Dimitri took for a yes.

Sure enough, when they entered Dimitri’s room, he wasn’t surprised when Ashe made him sit on the bed and remove his shoes and cape. What was a surprise was Ashe also removing his own boots and taking a seat beside Dimitri. “Ashe, what--”

A kiss cut him off. Ashe leaned into him, kissing Dimitri with more fervor than any previous kiss. They had never done this. They had never kissed in such a place as full of implication as a dorm room, and never with such intensity. Perhaps Dimitri had read Ashe all wrong once again.

Just as he thought so, Ashe pulled away. Not far-- their breath still mingled and Dimitri could feel Ashe’s fingers in his jacket. “I’m sorry,” Ashe murmured, “are you--”

Dimitri answered by initiating another kiss with just as much passion. If Ashe felt brave enough to do this, so could Dimitri. Gradually, Ashe pushed Dimitri until he was laying back on his bed, head against the pillow, lost in the drag of Ashe’s mouth over his.

The kisses calmed down some then. There was more air between them as Ashe dropped kisses to the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, then his chin. Dimitri held Ashe loosely but was mostly content to just let himself be kissed, to let Ashe’s lips explore him.

In the end, Ashe simply nestled his head into the crook of Dimitri’s shoulder and lay his full weight on him. Dimitri hardly felt trapped-- Ashe had an archer’s build-- and in all honesty, it felt good to have such an affectionate blanket.

“A-Are you relaxed?” Ashe said into his neck. While before his actions had been so confident, Dimitri could now hear his nerves plain as day.

“Yes.” Dimitri held Ashe more firmly, turning to kiss the top of his head. “I take it you would like me to try and sleep now?”

“Yeah.” A sigh brushed Dimitri’s chin. “I know I can’t chase away whatever’s bothering you when you sleep but, maybe if I’m here, I can comfort you when you wake up.”

Hearing Ashe speak so genuinely made Dimitri almost believe his presence could ward off nightmares. There was only one way to find out. Dimitri let his eyes shut, let himself give in to the warmth and affection around him. “Sleep well then, Ashe.”

“You too, Dimitri.”

(kiss prompts!)

#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #ashe ubert #dimiashe #fire emblem three houses #prompts are still closed but i'll rarely turn away a sequel idea in the future!#kiss prompts #fe3h #right moment series

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leggomylino · 4 years

Text

Roses Are Red | Bang Chan

Genre: fluff, a little (ridiculous) drama, and a whole lot of crack

Pairing: Bang Chan x princess!reader

Au: royal / fantasy au

Word Count: ~11.2k

Warning(s): some censored language…?, author rambling on and on, some underdeveloped plot what can I say this is mostly for laughs and giggles

Summary: Royal Gardener Christopher Bang only ever wanted to make music all his life, but being orphaned due to a senseless war against the Fire Nation left him at the hands of the kingdom to decide his fate. When tending to some of the many royal roses one day, he happened upon the kingdom’s princess, Y/n, and love at first sight was quite the understatement. However, what they are both unaware of is that she may already be betrothed to another…

A/n: Requested by @hanniiesuckle17 | Masterlist linked down below and in bio!!!

Tag List: @hanniiesuckle17 / @distrikt9 / @hanstagrams / @hyunsunq / @smolboiseavey / @jisungsjheekies / @iluvlix / @straycozy / @stay-nctzen (Let me know if you’d like to be added! Comment, ask, or DM me! <3)

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

Howdy y’all

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything in this format…

I know many of you are still waiting for me to finish light switch and let me tell you it IS still...under construction ._.”

I can’t stay loyal to one story at a time and life gets hectic ya dig?

...But I promise that EVENTUALLY MAYBE SOMETIME SOON I’ll get around to carving the second half of it

N E way let’s get this ball rolling! ->

So once upon a time in a far away land…

...Did you just roll your eyes or yawn? >:(( Don’t do that this is totally exciting

Okay so once upon a time in a far away land

There was a princess named Y/n <3 yes, that would be you, sis

She was the cream of the crop, the bees knees, the peanut butter to everyone’s jelly

...Well maybe like 90% of the jelly

There’s always gonna be haters or skeptics nothing we can do about that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway you were basically loved by almost everyone in the kingdom, for your kindness, hospitality, forthcomingness, honesty, bravery, generosity, and sophistication

Also, you were quite beautiful <3 like now teehee

But there was only one problem

Besides the fact that 10% of the jelly jar had peanut butter lodged in their brain

And that was that your father, the king, refused to let you go outside. Like ever. The only time you saw the sun and felt the wind through your hair was from your highest-Rapunzel-tower window, during required festival appearances or during emergency evacuations because THE FIRE NATION WAS ATTACKING!!!! 🔥 (╯°□°)╯🔥🔥🔥

This, however, rarely happened...er, maybe just once, but it was a false alarm because your half-brother Felix had stayed up too late playing video games (YES there is technology in this medieval au sorry not sorry) and he was just...seeing things

He’d been really stressed because his mother, your actually kind and not at all wicked stepmother, had been lowkey pressuring him to find a lovely princess consort or young fletching maiden

He didn’t necessarily have a problem with that, except for the fact that the whole thing was a huge problem that was stressing him out...marriage??? What was that again??? He kinda just wanted to run around the forest practicing archery with his friends, Dark Knight Changbin and Court Jester Jisung (read: pizza and video games)

BUT THIS WASN’T ABOUT HIM, THIS STORY IS ABOUT YOU (ง'̀-'́)ง

...Which is what I was getting at

You see

Felix was a great brother regardless of his mistake of screaming about a false Fire Nation attack and throwing you out of bed at 4 am

Besides being fun and great support/company, he also had this...friend...

A boy named Christopher Bang (♥‿♥)

He often went by Bang Chan tho, and he was ALSO your kingdom’s royal gardener

You know this because you often enjoyed watching him tend to the roses outside your tower, and occasionally would hide in the closet when you were SUPPOSED to be at violin lessons but instead dressed Felix up as your stunt double to spy while Chan watered and changed out the soil of the daffodils in your room

Daffodils were your favorite flower next to tulips and cherry blossoms and sunflowers

And

Almost every other flower in existence that Chan had anything to do with (♥‿♥)

...What could you say, you were hopelessly in love

But he didn’t know that

And the odd thing was

He felt the very same way about you

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

Can we finally get to some real-time story now?

Okay well

Channie’s pov now here y’all

Bang Chan had been the castle gardener for what felt like eons

His parents had disappeared to fight in the war with the Fire Nation and never came back…

:(((

So from a young age, before he was old enough to count, his mom and dad entrusted him to kingdom’s orphanage with care

The local nuns raised him well, and blessed him many times over

He grew up with two best friends there -> a shy boy named Han Jisung and a more confident one named Seo Changbin

The three of them were transferred to work under the kingdom after the local coming-of-age ceremony given to all children when they turn 15

And I totally didn’t steal half of that from an anime or anything...well, just a bit; 25%

So the three of them were whisked off to be given roles of their own to fulfill in order to contribute to society

Changbin was given the title of Dark Knight for his bravery and supreme combat skills

Jisung was awarded the title of Court Jester due to the fact he always made everyone laugh, despite his naturally shy and more introverted demeanor

And Bang Chan, as he preferred to be called, was granted the title of gardener...because...well, they actually denied his musician application, believe it or not

Now, before you get mad

I KNOW, RIGHT?!?!

ARE THESE GUYS FOOLS OR SOMETHING???

WHO WOULD DENY SUCH A TALENTED--

...Well, they were ignorant buffoons, unfortunately (｡•́︿•̀｡)

So he was forever stuck as a royal gardener because, he worked hard, the court knew it, and their predecessor gardener at the time was kidnapped by the Fire Nation

No one knows why and it’s not important (sorry random garden dude)

He’s okay though...we think

Anyway

So Bang Chan fit the role

And now at 23, to this day he still fit the role

It was the same mundane routine every day

W a t e r t h e p l a n t s

C u t t h e v e g e t a b l e s

S n i p t h e t h o r n s

T r i m t h e v i n e s

C h a n g e t h e s o i l

U G H ! ! !

It got to be downright tedious and vexing repeating the same routine like a Zombie by Day6

Which is the song he often hummed with a lull in his eyes as he w a t e r e d and c u t and s n i p p e d and t r i m m e d

And c h a n g e d eua;bhuisahfvirs WAIT A SECOND

(Oh, we’re backing up to age 16 for a sec)

He’s outside the tallest tower s n i p p i n g the thorns on another rose bush when

He looks up to see what time of day it is and stretch his aching back

And he sees

Up in the window

A g i r l ? ? ?

……

Who is she

She’s GORGEOUS

WOW

HE HAS TO SQUINT BUT HE’S STILL GOT 20/20 VISION AND HE KNOWS A CUTE GIRL WHEN HE SEES ONE

HE’S GOT TEENAGE BOY RADAR

Wowza

She’s h o t 🥵🥵

Like the sun beating down on his face right now

Hot hot

Bruuuuuuuuuuuh--

OUCH! The thorns…

He can’t be getting lost in the waking daydream glancing out her window above him, he’s got a job to do

Flashforward to a few days later, when he makes an excuse to go back to Tower C and tend to the roses that don’t need tending to

She’s not there :((

Darn

He looks left and right before burying himself into the bushes so he can wait and see if she shows up

But this poor boy is so overworked that he falls asleep

Poor guy needed a nap anyway 😔😔

He’s having a peaceful dreamless sleep when a song enters his mind

It’s actually a song he wrote, when he applied to be a castle musician

He wakes to hearing the song above him

The sweet, sweet melody just wafting daintily through the air

It’s coming from somewhere above him

...But he’s snagged in the thorn bush and can’t get out 🗿💧

O o p s

Rip

Maybe the bushes did need some work after all--

By the time he rips himself out and basically lost half of his shirt in the process, the song is almost over, coming to a soft decrescendo into a gentle pianissimo

That’s fancy music talk for slowly growing softer and more quiet and ending with a soft, maybe slightly breathy tone

Thankfully it’s cloudy that day so he doesn’t have to squint this time

And BOY IS HE GLAD ABOUT THAT BECAUSE GOOD GRAVY

IT’S HER AGAIN

THE LOVELY MAIDEN HE SAW TWO DAYS AGO

WHO IS SHE?!?!

“Oh, that’s Princess Y/n.”

JISUNG?!?! WHERE DID YOU COME FROM

Boy deadass just pops out of a rose bush like a weasel 🗿💧 what the what

His court jester hat has a few loose thorns in it, and it’s fallen askew to cover half of his face

“...That’s Princess Y/n?” Chan askes, totally in awe

You have such a lovely voice

And he’s bewildered as to how you know his song, seeing as it was a confidential piece he only played for a private group of royals once when auditioning

Jisung just nods, fixing his hat only to have a few of the bells bounce around and whop him in the face

One jingled all the way right into his eye…

But he carries on unaffected; must be used to it <_<

“Yeah, her dad is a total overbearing crazy-protective psycho. ...Well, maybe not psycho, but...he’s crazy protective of his daughter. He’s scared if she takes one step outside, some Fire Nation goon is gonna come popping out of a bush like Team Rocket in almost every old school pokemon episode and kidnap her like Pikachu.”

“...I thought Pikachu always got away.”

“...Oh yeah. 🤔 Bad example then.”

“You are a bad example.”

“Oh yeah?! Well you’re...a good example!”

“...Jisung that was a compliment. And thank you.”

“.........”

...Moving on

“What can you tell me about her?”

“OOOOOOO...Why? You got a crush on her, bro?”

“...I’m just...curious why the king would wanna keep her locked away in a tower like a Christian Anderson tale.”

Jisung sighs and places his hands on his hips like a lecturing mother. “Are you serious? I just told you, His Majesty is crazy overprotective of his only daughter...also, wouldn’t you wanna keep a beauty like that locked away if she were your daughter???”

Chan gives him a disgusted look. “No? Because I’m not an insecure psychopath?? Everyone deserves to be happy and free…” He glances up to the tower. “That can’t be healthy being held prisoner in a giant dungeon like that.”

“True, true...I’d still keep her locked away, though.”

“Jisung!!! Seriously?!”

“WHAT?” (ง'̀-'́)ง “I KNOW HOW TEENAGE BOYS ARE!!! THEY’RE GONNA CATCH THESE HANDS BEFORE I LET ONE OF THEIR GRUBBY LITTLE--”

Chan clamps his hand over his friend’s mouth. “I’m gonna stop you right there. Goodbye, Jisung.”

He looks at you one last time, marveling at your beauty with a hint of pity in his eyes before walking away

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

You hadn’t noticed that day, seven years ago, being too lost in a daydream over whether you wanted tea or a nice iced latte with your lunch...despite how loud they were being

It was one of the few enjoyments of your day

One the few things you got to look forward to: choosing what to have for a meal

Choosing what to wear that was within your parent’s standards

Choosing whether you wanted to wile away the hours reading a book or watching Royal TV or scribbling some poorly drawn comics of what your life COULD be like were you NOT a princess with an overbearing father…

S i g h

You’re hanging upside down on your giant canopy bed in a very unladylike fashion when Felix enters the room. You must have not heard him knock, and he’s like

😳😳💧

To which you “oop-” and quickly throw yourself over in an upright position

“...Sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s fine.” He laughs a bit and closes the door behind him. “So, whatcha up to?”

“......”

Did he have to ask you that? The question sort of burned. What were you supposed to do??? “Just...chillin.”

“Like a villain?”

“In the...millen.”

He laughed at your attempt to carry out the rhyme. “What’s a millen?”

You shrugged. He sat down at the dining table you normally ate at, crossing his feet over the table. “Well, I’ll do you one better. I came to ask if you’d like to accompany me to--”

“WHERE?!?!?!”

\(ಠAಠ)/

You’re right there in his face, shaking his shoulders before he can get another word out.

Felix, wanting to take you OUT OF THE PALACE?!??!?!?!?

THAT WAS HUGE

THIS WAS HUGE

OMGRAVY WHAT WOULD YOU WEAR?!

YOU DIDN’T EVEN CARE WHERE YOU WERE GOING, JUST THE FACT THAT YOU WERE GETTING OUT OF THE HOUSE WAS ENOUGH

...You should still probably let him finish, though

Felix (@-@) <- was dizzy for a moment, but once he got his head back on straight, he explained that he’d ask your father if the two of you could go shopping together-- just for a few hours

Felix was the sweetest brother ;-; the sweetest BOY ಥ_ಥ

You were going to have so much fun browsing the shops that you’d only ever read about in novels and seen on TV

The two of you would get popcorn and ice cream and feed the pigeons and do rain dances around the park fountain

And you’d come back with so many souvenirs and nostalgic timepieces from your little journey (╥﹏╥)

It was going to be the BEST. DAY. EVER!

*insert that Spongebob episode here*

……

Or not

Because

Shortly after the two of you skipped hand-in-hand like Hansel and Gretel down to the Royal Throne room

Your father gave the two of you a big fat N O

Jerk…

His booming voice declared, “NO BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER OF MINE WILL BE SEEN BILLOWING ABOUT THE CITY STREETS!!! That’s like asking to be kidnapped and used as a means of war!!!”

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUASDFGHJKL;;SVBU;IABV;SIFABVIFARHVS

HE DIDN’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING BUT WAR AND TAXES!!! IT WAS SO ANNOYING!!!

So, the two of you are forced back to your room alone…

And Felix comforts you and apologizes a thousand times over, words that should coming out of your father’s mouth instead

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

~LATER THAT DAY~

Well, it’s more like evening now

The sun is setting comfortably over the horizon

And Felix has just returned from his shopping trip without you 😔😔

Now before you get angry and call him a traitor, he actually had a fit and refused to go

He even came close to knocking over a table

But that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly and his mother was present

It was his mother that insisted he had to go in order to make a required public appearance for the kingdom and “hopefully find a lady that spotted his fancy” or whatever

Yeah, Felix rolled his eyes too

But he had no choice ://

If it makes you feel any better, he didn’t enjoy himself at all

He spent the whole time thinking about you and looking wistfully at the palace in the distance, to the tower you were most likely glaring wistfully back from

He was now tromping tired princely feet up the winding steps to at least give you a nice gift he’d brought back for you, and some flowers he’d gotten from a recently opened flower shop called Christopher’s Garden

A very nice not-yet-elderly couple ran the shop in honor of their lost son, who they hadn’t heard from since they returned from war

The story was quite sad and bittersweet

……

Shhh we’ll get there later it’s called foreshadowing（∩‿∩）

He’s about three-quarters of the way there when he’s suddenly ambushed by-- you guessed it-- Team Rocket!1!1

Jk it’s Jisung and Changbin

They’re the new Jessie and James of this story except they’re actually good

“Felix!!!”

“SH*T!!!”

Oop

They nearly gave him a heart attack!!! >A<

He almost beats them with the flowers, too, until he remembers last minute they’re for you

“WHAT DO YOU WANT NEVER DO THAT AGAIN”

“I CAN’T MAKE ANY PROMISES BUT WE NEED TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT SOMETHING”

“WHAT IS IT”

Changbin sighs in his heavy, overzealous knightly gear. “Maybe the two of you can keep it down before you wake the princess?”

Felix shrugs. “Eh, Y/n is always up at this hour. She’s actually a night owl, but don’t tell the king that. Or her teachers.”

Bin smirks. “Noted--”

<_<

Felix has to smack him, which is a hard two second decision but you’re his sister and family comes first 😔😔 But he makes it up by giving Bin a flower, which he awkwardly accepts

“So what was it you wanted to tell me?”

Jisung nods his jingle bell hat all over the place like a bobblehead. “Yeah, okay, so-- check this out!”

He jumps a few steps ahead so he can have room to put on a one-man show. Changbin groans and crosses his arms, while Felix eyes him curiously

“I have this friend, right? Well, we do, actually! Me and Changbin!”

The Dark Knight tilts his head. “You mean Chan?”

“YEA-- I mean, yeah!” He starts bouncing around, mining walking around the garden surrounding the palace walls. “So...I never told you this, but a few years ago...more like seven, I was going for a walk when I spotted him outside the princess’ tower! And I stopped and went ten-thousand stealth mode!”

He mimes diving into the bushes. Changbin rolls his eyes.

“He’d totally fallen asleep in the rose bushes, so I--”

“Could you maybe not talk like you’re twelve?”

“......”

Before the two can start quarreling like a couple of twelve year olds, Felix takes on a responsible air, stepping between them

“Hang on...your friend? Was loitering outside my sister’s room?”

Jisung pops his head over Changbin, which really isn’t that hard. “Yeah, he’s the royal gardener! But like, I don’t think the roses needed tending to that day...and after I revealed myself, he was asking a LOT-- well a few...questions about her. Hint hint, my boy’s in love.”

“Love?”

“Love, bro. Like the real sappy stuff.”

“...Love.”

“...Yes.”

“Your friend. Is in love with my sister.”

“...That would be what I just told you, yes.”

“...Wait. Chan as in, Bang Chan? ...OUR friend Chan?!”

“That’s him!”

“Okay okay hold on,” Changbin waves his arms through the air. “Love is a strong word...and this is Chan we’re talking about. He loves just about everybody. He’s nice and empathetic to everyone. Just last week I had to turn away two maids and a palace chef who’d gotten the same mixed signals.”

Jisung shrugs. “Yeah, well…”

“Also this was seven years ago?!”

“...Yeah…”

Changbin deadpans. “So you got me all hyped about jumping Felix for some love story that probably isn’t even real. Seven years is a long time, Jisung. He may have forgotten about her already-- NOT THAT SHE’S SOMEONE TO BE FORGOTTEN.”

He had to finish that last sentence real quick from the look Felix was giving him. The boy sighs, shifting his gifts into one arm so he can run a small hand through his wind-blown hair. “...This is kind of crazy Jisung, even for you. Why are you bringing this up now of all times?”

“...Well…”

👉👈

“I overheard a royal meeting I shouldn’t have about an hour ago...and your dad was talking about having Y/n engaged.”

“What?!?”

“To the Fire Nation king.”

“WHAT?!?!”

“People often refer to him as Zuko, for reasons unknown, but his real name is Minho.”

“.........”

With fever and a newfound energy, Felix tries bursting up the steps to your room. But unfortunately, Team Rocket stops him.

“MOVE! I have to talk to Y/n about this!!!”

“Hang on! The whole reason I brought up my homeboy in the first place was to maybe stop this suspiciously dangerous and shady deal! If Y/n has already fallen in love with someone else, maybe the king will have a change of heart!!!”

Felix groans, glaring harshly in a manner that isn’t really like him. “Han, her father keeps her locked away in a plush-tailored dungeon and refuses to let her go outside, not even on a short shopping trip with her own brother. He doesn’t want her to be seen, and he certainly doesn’t want her falling in love.”

“Well--!” Han balls his hands into fists. “I WAS TRYING OKAY?! I LIKE Y/N TOO, SHE’S A TIMEPIECE GAL WHEN I’M ACTUALLY ALLOWED TO BE WITHIN TEN FEET OF HER!!!”

“Dang…” Changbin groans. “So you don’t think I’ll be able to ask her out this weekend?”

“......” “......”

The glare he gets from both men is a definite no

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

So what are we to do about a situation like this?

Well I’m glad you asked because we’re about to find out

IRONICALLY right at that moment, you were supposed to be in a late-running math session on how taxing the economy works but

Instead you were blissfully hidden in the closet, watching Chan plant a newly discovered breed of roses on your balcony the author forgot to mention you even had

It was an indoor balcony of sorts; fenced in with mesh and curtains to keep the bugs and trespassers out

There was a cute little garden table with comfy chairs and a small bookshelf

As well as a mini bar and even a small stereo system B))

You’re the princess sis

This was your world since you weren’t allowed to experience the real one

To explain, you had a window right next to it that you often looked out, since your balcony was more or less closed off…

Hopefully that makes sense ._.”

Alright anyhoo

So Chan is planting some gorgeous purple roses that only ever existed in Animal Crossing until now

The most lusciously soft and purpley purple that ever was and ever would be

And here’s you, hunkered down in the closet like a stalker spying on him with one eye and a slit through the cracked door

WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN

Bang!

The door flies open!

A wild Felix appears!1!1

Uh-oh

He’s probably looking for you, but given the equally wild look on his face

He’s probably not aware of Chan’s job, coming in to tend to your plants when you’re scheduled to be absent

Wait they’re friends right

So he isn’t gonna kill him...right?!

Or does this mean he was gonna kill him that much more?!

OH NO

FELIX NO PLS

You’re holding your breath and waiting for the right moment to pounce and topple your half-brother to the floor when apprehensively

He checks his surroundings quickly before shutting the door behind him

……

What the what is this about--

“We need to talk,” Felix starts, pacing to the dining table where he usually sits. Chan freezes, blinking a few times into the roses and the air above them before turning a blank stare the prince’s way.

“Okay,” he states back, “what’s on your mind?”

“About Y/n…”

About you?

“Princess Y/n? What about?”

Yes, what about you?

“...Jisung…” he sighs. “Look, I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked. Let me start by apologizing about that.”

“Oh, no need to apologize. You’re the prince, and I’m the gardener. We’re both quite busy with our—“

“Jisung told me you like Y/n.”

………

…………

……………

I’m s o r r y

WhAT WAS THAT

WHAT DID HE JUST SAY?!

Okay okay hold up

Han Jisung was the court clown and notorious for pranks and lying his ass off

Surely this was just a (albeit cruel) joke…

...Right?!

…

Bang Chan’s ears are turning red

Redder than the roses outside your window

He’s biting his lip, like he wants to say something, but is trying hard to suppress said something

His hands are clenched down into the dirt…

“...Well?” asks Felix. “Is it true?”

“...It’s…”

!!!

WHAT WHAT IT’S WHAT

TELL ME FLOWER BOY WHAT IS IT

SPILL THE BEANS ALREADY

Haha get it…

Beans……

Like seeds……..

...Anyway

“......”

He nods, softly, barely. Bang Chan nods his approval at Felix’s proposed statement.

Is this even real right now…?

Is this allowed?! 😩

Instead of jumping the guy like you thought he would, Felix instead smiles, so brightly it would be enough to scare off the Fire Nation and save thousands of lives

“Oh wow. Oh f*ck. You like my sister. This is...shouldn’t I be mad right now?”

He begins to pace

“...But I’m not. I’m genuinely okay with this. Better than okay. It’s...weird.”

“Probably because Y/n may be saved from marrying Prince Hellhole of the Underworld now.”

The two of them (and you still in the closet) jump at the sound of a new voice wafting in from the ceiling. Looking up, a set of bells can be seen hanging out if the air vent

...Has that always been there?!

Oh my gravy what if Han Jisung has spied on you before

What if someone else has?!

Felix scowls angrily at the vent before lifting a pen off your desk and throwing it with surprisingly good accuracy

It must have hit something because next thing you know Jisung is saying “ow!” and climbing down at the Prince’s demand

“What the hell were you doing up there?!”

“Detective work.”

“You’re banned from doing detective work anywhere near this room.”

“What about Changbin?”

“What?!”

“Oh uhhh...nothing.”

The clanking of heavy armor trying to escape travels across the ceiling…

And Felix huffs.

“CHANGBIN I KNOW THAT’S YOU.”

~~~

So I’m gonna do a mini skip right here to get the ball rolling

After Bin is dragged down and everyone (minus you) is accounted for

The four guys are sitting around your dining table, a sinister(?) plot coming to notion

“Okay,” Felix begins, “So what we know is, according to what Jisung overheard, this arms race war of sorts against the Fire Nation is coming to a rock and a hard place for both sides. And to resolve this issue, it would appear that Y/n is being offered as a bargaining chip. A wedding to unite the two kingdoms.”

……

Everyone is pretty silent

You included, not that you can say anything at the moment…

But just because you’re silent on the outside doesn’t mean you don’t have a million thoughts racing through your head

Let’s get to the most pressing one that’d likely catch your attention first: MARRIAGE?!?!

With whom?!?!

How dare some old geezers try and pawn you off without your permission?! To the enemy?!? To a man you didn’t even know?!?!

WHAT IF HE WAS REALLY OLD

OR GROSS

OR BOTH

OR WHAT IF--

Han suddenly has something to say

Then again when does the boy not

He lunges across the table to grasp at Chan’s hands. “PLEASE, YOU HAVE TO MARRY THE PRINCESS SO SHE WON’T BE SENT AWAY AND I CAN STOP AWKWARDLY CATCHING YOU SPYING ON HER OUTSIDE!!!”

!!!

OH UH

WHA?!

Chan’s ears are turning red again. He’s got a brow quirked like he doesn’t know what Jisung is talking about, but averts his gaze all the same in a guilty manner

Felix is tapping his fingers against his forearm in an attempt to ignore that confession

And Changbin is just sitting next to Chan half confused and half annoyed

“I- I can’t just… Jisung what you’re asking is…”

“It’s too much,” Bin cuts in. “Jisung you can’t just ask someone, much less tell them, to marry a person they have a far-longing crush on, but really know nothing about. They’ve never even spoken to each other before, I can assume, and you’re telling them to spend the rest of their lives in a commitment? That’s intense.”

Jisung pouts. “Yeah, but…!”

“What if we just faked a marriage?”

Three stunned faces (four if we’re counting you) turn eyes upon the eldest and only prince. He smiles warmly, sending a warily comforting shiver down your spine that you have trouble placing as good or bad.

“What do you mean?” Changbin asks.

“I doubt the king is going to accept Y/n’s wishes in all of this, so we can’t just have her or Chan ask to be wed. But if they’re already married…”

Jisung’s face lights up. “Then there’s nothing the king or Fire Nation fools can do about it!!! That’s BRILLIA--”

“But it would just be a ruse. We’ll have a fake license made, and I can supply the rings. I’ve got plenty of underground connections~”

You’re looking at Chan’s face to see what he thinks of all this, but unfortunately his back is to you, and Changbin is blocking 90% of your view…

You can, however, see that his ears are still a flushed scarlet, as well as the base of his neck

“Would you be okay with that?”

He jumps. Felix and the others blink expectantly.

“...Huh?”

“...Are you okay with being my sister’s fake husband for a few hours?”

It’s gotta be the awkwardest question you’ve ever heard coming out of your brother’s mouth, but then…

“Yeah. If it’ll protect Y/n...let’s do it.”

……

It’s the first time you’ve heard him not refer to you as the princess, but rather, just yourself

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

OKAY WE’RE GONNA TRY AND START CRAMMING THINGS WITHOUT CRAMMING TOO MUCH BECAUSE HNNNNN I DON’T WANT THIS TO BE TOO LONG AND DRAWN OUT ಥ_ಥ

SO ON THAT NOTE

Meanwhile in a diabolical castle not too far away but still kinda far

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

We’ve got an evil firelord named Zuko over here

But he’s not really evil :(( In fact he’s not evil at all!!!

His name isn’t even Zuko it’s Minho

And he’s just kinda mean is all…

Just a smidge | |

“My Lord Zuko!!!” An attendant bows, groveling at the steps to the throne

He’s some weird guy with an eyepatch

Not important but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The Fire King growls, swirling a glass of something strong

“I told you that’s not my name,” he states, tossing the glass after a single gulp. Dang. Intense.

The attendant :((, covering his face like a scared manchild. “PLEASE FORGIVE ME YOUR GRACE!!!”

Minho rolls his eyes. “If I do, will you man up and give me the details on the Nation of (Your Kingdom Name Here)?”

“Oh, yes, yes! Thank you, sire!!!”

“...S u r e.” He blinks a few times, only sparing the slightest hint of a smile when one of the three cats wandering the kingdom jumps onto his lap. “Well? Get on with it.”

“Yes, sire, right away!” Patchy pulls out an enormously large scroll that should NOT have been able to fit in his pocket similar to the mechanics of Animal Crossing (seriously how is it you’re able to fit a giant whale into your pocket and like a freaking tarantula and a hive of wasps like idk about you sis but I would NOT be putting those things in my pocket-) “It would appear that the Princess of (Nation) has given her consent to marry His Royal Highness of the Tallest Order Fire Nation King Zu-- ...L-Lee Minho of the Tallest Order of the Nation of Fire and All Things Cat Related.”

Minho is nodding, a pleasant smirk on his face. Things were just going swimmingly for him. “Perfect. Just as I thought they would. Seungmin? Jeongin?”

From the shadows, two boys stepped forward. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Please plan my arrival to the Nation of (Your Nation) at once. I’d like to arrive no later than the end of the week.”

“...Sire, with all due respect…” Seungmin swallows. “That’s in two days. Normally, I’d have to send a carrier pigeon to customs since you banned technology after that one disapproving cat commercial, and as you know, your cats are constantly eating both the birds and the notes…”

“......”

Minho shrugs. “And? So? Just write a new note and buy more birds. There’s no time to waste!”

Seungmin and Jeongin share a look. Arguing against the King would be suicide, so…

“...Yes, Your Unreasonable Grace.”

“Grea-- wait what?”

Comically, they both vanish before any more words can be said.

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

Moving right along here

That night, after the sun has fully set and you’re getting ready to tuck yourself into bed

There’s a strange sound coming from the window…

. . .

Creepy but probably nothing

It’s just the wind, right?

You choose to ignore it and continue organizing the pillows (and dolls?) on your bed in a fashion that suits your fancy when

Tap Tap Tap

. . .

It’s either an incredible coincidence that wind can tap in such a rhythmic fashion, and not so sporadically, or…

There’s someone at the window

...No, really

SOMEONE IS OUTSIDE SIS

THERE’S A FREAKY LOOKIN’ SHADOW RIGHT THERE

On the twelfth floor tho?!

…

Should you answer it

Survey says no

Are you going to?

The stars say yes

BUT FIRST WE MUST ARM OURSELVES BC WE AREN’T TOTAL DUMDUMS 😩

You grab an ornate candlestick from your nightstand and start heading that way

Slowly, carefully, one foot at a time

The closer you get, the more prominent the shadow outside the window becomes…

It almost looks kinda like…

...A tumbleweed? A scarecrow???

………

You’re scared

SOMEONE COMING THIS HIGH MUST BE SKILLED AND DETERMINED AND HAS TO KNOW IT’S YOU OR MAYBE IT’S A THIEF THAT--

“Princess? Princess Y/n?”

!!!

Gasp you know that voice

It’s… …

Without a moment to lose you ditch the candlestick and unlock the hinges, tossing the windows open to…

Watch your beloved…

...Almost fall and crack his head open ._.”

Chan is laughing nervously hanging onto the windowsill with a faint pink mark on his cheek from where the window popped him

You cry out nervously and with an effort on both parts, manage to hoist him inside

Where he clichely falls on top of you 🌚🌚 Teehee 🥴

You can feel the heat rising to your face and swirling around your head that’s already been spinning with thoughts for a while now

And Chan, catching his breath over you, practically mirrors that reaction

I Am You

I see me in you--

Okay sorry

Chan laughs the whole thing off and rolls himself off like Nishinoya performing his famous Rolling Thunder, and helps you up while profusely asking if you’re alright, if you need to sit down, you should probably sit down, oh I’m so sorry Felix told me you stayed up late so--

Ah wait

“He told you that? When?”

You’re now sitting on the side of your bed, and Chan is standing a few feet away with windblown hair that could easily be mistaken for a tumbleweed through the dead of night

The fact that you’re staring at it makes him a little self conscious, but really you were just thinking about how cute he looks

“Uh, he told me a few hours ago. We were just...chatting, and um…”

……

He cuts himself off and sighs into his hands

“I’m so sorry. You probably don’t even know who I am.”

“I do.”

“You do?”

“I do.” You smile. “You’re the gardener. Your name is…” You blush. “Christopher Bang. You take care of the roses at the base of the tower and you planted the purple ones on my balcony today. You’re also a friend of my brother’s.”

“Wow, okay yeah.” He smiles back. Seeing him smiling at you while acknowledging the other, the faint flicker of candlelight (Felix broke your lamp during a karate stunt to make you laugh)...it’s almost too much to handle. “That would sort of explain why you let an absolute stranger into your bedroom at night.”

………

Oop

He had a point there

Blame the author sis she’s got three other WIPs rn and wanted to get this done while doing a semi-decent job (｡•́︿•̀｡)💧

“I-I just...have a strong sense of adventure,” you lied. Kinda. Reality was, you really WERE longing for a chance to explore and have just a little excitement in your life instead of the same boring gray stone walls each and every day

Lucky for you, that’s exactly what Chan was here for

The next thing you see is his hand in your face (a still-respectable distance away), offering you quite the gentlemanly smile. He managed to fix that windblown hair of his in the seconds you spent spaced out over your longing to leave this place

“Come on. I actually came here to ask if you’d like to go somewhere with me.”

~~~

A little disclosure here

Normally, you should never, EVER let someone you don’t really know into your home (much less your bedroom) late at night, and you certainly should not agree to go somewhere with them

This is just common knowledge, I know

But, for crack, time, and in the spirit of classic fairytales, I’m going to allow it to happen :)))

~~~

AND SO, Y/n chooses to defy common sense, and takes the hand of the boy she really likes (▰˘◡˘▰)

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

To make things slightly less weird and insanely unnatural, Chan gives you a note from Felix. It’s got his secret seal of approval that he only uses when addressing letters to you, one that only the two of you know about, so it’s gotta be legit and valid

🙄🙄

Just pretend it makes things A LITTLE bit better for me, okay?

“Author do you know how illogical this all is and that, like, ANYONE could figure out--”

YEAH OKAY JUST GO WITH IT PLS 😩😩

The note says:

𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒴/𝓃, 𝒴𝑒𝑒𝓉! 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓃, 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓋𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒶 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓁𝑒 ;) 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓅𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝓉𝑜𝑔𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇...𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶��, 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁, 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃...𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝓅𝒶𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝑒. 𝐼𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝒾𝓂, 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉? 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒. 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝐼'𝓂 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝒢𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓃𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓊𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓋𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝒫.𝒮. - 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓃, 𝓈𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓅 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒, 𝒴/𝓃!

𝒜𝓁𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝓃, 𝓃𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝑔𝑜𝓉𝓉𝒶 𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝒾𝓉. 𝒴/𝓃 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓂𝑒𝒹 𝓊𝓃𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝓊𝓃𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝒷𝓎 𝓃𝑜 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝒻𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝒷𝓊𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝑔𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃 𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇. 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒶𝓃𝓉𝓁𝓎, 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒. :)

-- 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝑜𝓀𝒶𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈, 𝐹𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓍 (ℱ )

...Well, there you had it

Now, onto the date! …

WAIT DID THIS COUNT AS A DATE?!

uHHHHHH

ಥ_ಥ 💧

IDK SIS JUST GO WITH IT FOR NOW, GO GO GO!

Chan is about to take your hand and wisk you out the window like Rapunzel or some Romeo and Juliet au (hey btw??? That ain’t a bad idea someone request this from me)

He nearly forgets about the height difference and the fact that he don’t have any rope or long flowing locks to grab onto to :D so instead the two of you opt for an idea that comes to you after nearly tearing your room apart to look for rope:

THE AIR VENT!!!

You have to move some furniture around but it’s not like anyone is gonna come into your room or find out about you missing anyway

Reader: “Chan came into my room tho--”

SHHHHH THAT’S DIFFERENT IT’S CALLED PLOT CONTINUATION

Now

After getting lost for approximately ten minutes in the winding air ducts, Chan manages to get his poor sleep deprived brain together and leads you down the right path, coming to a purifying viel(?) he knocks out of the way to kick the door open to outside

AND THEN

IT’S THE MOST GLORIOUS AND MAGICAL THING

IT’S

（つ﹏╰）

SIS IT’S OUTSIDE

IT’S THE OUTSIDE WORLD

YOU DID IT--

……

You can’t do it

Chan jumps out easily onto the grass to some East side of the palace, but you just sit there, hunkered down in the opening space of the vent

Just staring at it

The grass

The trees

The tumbleweed that is Chan’s hair blow by

It’s almost too much…

Your body won’t move. You’ve been locked away in the palace for so long now...something inside of you is telling you it’s morally wrong to change that now.

“Hey wait author I have a question”

I’m kinda in the middle of telling a semi-deep part of the story but okay sure

“If Chan and I were on the twelfth floor how is it that we made it to the--”

SHHHHH AGAIN JUST HUMOR ME AND DON’T OVERTHINK THINGS

Chan is watching you with some sort of softness in his eyes illuminated by starlight. He holds his hands out to you.

“It’s okay. If you need me to, I can carry you for as long as I’m able.”

…

But you refuse

You need to cross this bridge

And then you need to burn it 🔥

NO GOING BACK SIS

NO GOING BACK 😤😤

...Except you’re always open for an excuse to be close to Chan so 🤪💓

You jump in his arms without much of a second thought, and without thinking he spins you around, and a moment later

Both of your slippered feet hit the ground below

Soft earth enveloping your heels

Blades of grass tickling your skin

It’s so WEIRD BUT

It’s a good kind of weird

A kind of weird you’d love to get used to

Hand in hand the two of you slip off after that, out into that starry starry night that looks like a Van Gogh painting

It’s beautiful and blurred yet sharp and soft yet bright and you feel like queen of the world as you’re running through Central Park, riding on Chan’s shoulders

Dancing around the center fountain

Nearly blowing your cover when a racoon runs by

It’d be kinda bad if someone saw you, much less recognized who you were 😅

The two of you lay on the hillside, where Chan makes up stories about the stars and you smile at the sound of his voice, and the feeling of wildflowers against your cheek

You’re so enthralled that you scarcely notice when his voice trails off as he’s watching you, admiring your beauty as he often has in days gone by, only this time it’s up close and nearly surreal

The girl of his dreams lying in a bed of flowers

Not palace-tainted ones either -> wildflowers, flowers that are free to billow any way the wind takes them

And the moonlight casting perfectly angular shadows over your body

He has to get a hold of himself and tear himself away with a sharp breath

……

But he’s adding the image to a memory in his heart, that’s for sure

He takes a moment to mull over it a few more times before dusting himself off, standing, and reaching out to you. Something you also want to get used to other than being in the Great Outdoors. “Come on,” he says, “We’ve almost used up all our time, and I haven’t even been able to show you the town yet.”

SHOPPING~! (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥

...Ah wait it was night time 😔 You’d have to settle for just seeing the sights and playing pretend

“We’re gonna do something called window shopping.”

“Window shopping?” You ask, taking your first steps down main street. “What’s that?”

Surprisingly, there were a few stragglers still out and about at this hour, so you had to keep your head down and wander as seamlessly as possible off to the side of the road.

“Window shopping is when you wander around a shopping district just to look at the stuff on display. You shop with your eyes and pick out things you like.”

That sounded kinda fun

Of course anything with Chan sounded like a good time to you (♥‿♥)

And so, still hand in hand, the two of you quietly walked the cobblestone streets, examining clothes and trinkets in the large glass windows of stores and commenting lightly on things you liked/disliked

And, over a short span of time, you felt a gentle shift as Chan entwined his fingers with yours

ƪ(˘⌣˘)┐ ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ ┌(˘⌣˘)ʃ

You wander the streets for a while longer, taking a left here, a right there, when after pacing a little ways down a side street connecting to a sleepy neighborhood, Chan stops quite abruptly

His arms and posture is rigid af, so it almost yanks you back a bit, and a little startled you look up to see what it is he’s gawking at

…

It’s a flower shop

And the big sign across the roof’s edge says, “Christopher’s Garden”

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

Christopher’s Garden was the name Chan’s parents had wanted to name the flower shop the two of them had dreamed of opening together

Chan knows this because of the letters he’d receive at the orphanage during the war

The last letter he received was when he was eleven years old; a simple “hello we miss you” update with a miniature bouquet of pressed wildflowers

Flowers he still kept in his small room at the palace, tapped to the inside of the box where all his letters are stored

Faintly, he reaches out towards the sign, like it’s the only thing around him; suddenly there is no village, no night time, and there almost isn’t a Y/n either

Not that you aren’t important…

He just simply can’t believe that…

…

This couldn’t be real, it had to be a coincidence

A cruel one, but still

A coincidence nonetheless

And he’d continue to think that had he not lowered his hand, and found the face of an older man staring back at him

A man with burn marks on his cheeks and the scars of war apparent in both his features and his eyes

He has to grip the doorway to keep himself from falling backward

For it may have been many years, but he could never forget the face of his own son; not even after time had aged him

The parental spark was just there, a father’s intuition

……

As if seeming to understand, Y/n lets him go

She retreats stage left, one, two paces

And watches with heartfelt joy as the two men embrace somberly beneath the moonlight.

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

You wanted to stay and watch

You really really did

You wanted to be that support beam for Chan, but

In a way, you also didn’t want to intrude on such an important family moment

...And you were more or less due back at midnight 🙄 Cinderella much?

You’re racing along the alleyways right now

Slippers puffing a muffled breath with each step along the pavement

Buildings casting shadows and jagged shapes of light along the way

A random cloth you borrowed from behind a grocery masking your head

You found it lying over some crates of produce; and you may or may not have borrowed a few plums for the road, too…

...You’d have someone pay them back with interest 🤷

You probably should have told Chan you were heading back, but

He needed his family, right?

This was really important to him, you could tell he obviously hadn’t seen his dad, uncle, or whoever that man was back there in a while

You could catch him up later, right?

He’d probably spend the night there and be back by morning or mid-afternoon

You’re just now reaching a fork in the road

You could keep going straight or make a slanted right venturing toward the front gate, which connects the pastures of hills (making up Central Park) to the palace

……

It would probably be better to stick the backways, but you didn’t know the area that well…

If you went back into civilization, although it was after curfew and despite your disguise, someone may still spot you

What to do what to do what to--

“So you’re the Princess of (Kingdom Name).”

!!!

Did

Did someone just--

ARE THEY TALKING TO YOU?!?

RUN?!

DO WE RUN ...

“You don’t have to be frightened.” the voice says, stepping closer. “I’m here to take you home.”

……...

🚩🚩🚩

:))))))))

Yes okay now we RUN 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨

You make a break for it down the straight path, letting your veil fly away from your body and temporarily blind whoever’s following you

You also make good use of those plums you stole, tossing them like bombs over your shoulder

“Argh--! Dang it, sh*t, I can’t sEE--” Your pursuers flail about before shredding the cloth to bits, whipping the fruit off their faces. “AFTER HER!!!”

!!!!!!

DID HE JUST SAY--?!

HHHHHHHHHHHH

The sound of heavy metal clanging against cobblestone bounces off the space behind you as you’re pounding, scrambling, flinging yourself in a zigzag pattern in case someone is trying to snipe you

IT’S WHAT ALL THE RIDICULOUS HEROES IN MOVIES DO, OKAY?!

IT’S MORE OR LESS EFFECTIVE

But alas there are so many boxes and wheelbarrows and junk in the way...

MOVE FASTER YOU CAN HEAR THEM GAINING ON YOU

But wait who even is “them” anyway???

Do you even need to know?! It was probably some councilman your stepmother or father pissed off

You’d seen it all on TV and read plenty of horror stories in books to know there were endless reasons why someone would be targeting you for vengeance

...And, also…

……

Blast it all

You could hear your father’s voice echoing:

“NO BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER OF MINE WILL BE SEEN BILLOWING ABOUT THE CITY STREETS!!! That’s like asking to be kidnapped and used as a means of war!!!”

“A means of war!!!”

…………………………………...g u l p

ಥ_ಥ

YOU JUST WANTED TO HAVE A GOOD TIME OKAY

THAT’S ALL

GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN 😩😩

HE SHOULD TRY SITTING ON HIS ASS DAY IN AND DAY OUT IT’S MIND-NUMBINGLY BORING 🔥🔥🔥

But boy were you getting your fill of excitement now

If you could just make it back to the palace, maybe you could use this as an excuse

Say you were kidnapped and made a grand escape

...It wasn’t a TOTAL lie…

“Oh Princess~ Princess Y/n, slow down, won’t you please?!”

LIBSDIBVISAFBILSFIL

NOT ON YOUR LIFE BUDDY 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨

WE AIN’T ABOUT TO DIE

GOTTA

HURRYYYYYYY

~ t r i p ! ~

Oh-- ...

THUD

Owowowowow… (｡>︿<｡)💧

………………

……………………………

ಠ_ಠ

You slowly look up to the enemy

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ❤️ “Guess who? ...Oh, wait, we’ve never met before.”

………………..

Crap.

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

The plan was going to be very simple: swoop in, rescue the princess, and take her back home to appease to the King and speed up the royal wedding of the century

Unfortunately, nothing was ever simple in the Fire Nation

That and, well, Minho had spies everywhere

He’d seen your photograph

He knew what you looked like

And when one of his minion’s squeaked saying they spotted a certain soon-to-be-and-technically-already-so engaged princess and coming-soon queen of the Fire Nation running around after hours with another man, well

He just couldn’t have that

It simply wasn’t allowed

The king had promised him your hand

And that’s exactly what he was going to get

“Tie her wrists tighter. Yes. Now a little closer to the left…”

He smiles at you from inside the back of the carriage. He was about to make this go his way faster than he could have hoped for.

He leans forward, now dressed in some ridiculous royal garb festive with plated armor and flapping ribbons, patting your knee with smooth-lined fingers that shouldn’t belong to someone ruling the Fire Nation. And he knows this, too. He was and still is the youngest king to ever hold the throne. “Don’t worry, Princess, I simply wish to escort you home. This is, however, a pleasant time for us to get acquainted. Since I will become your husband in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

To this, the Princess of (Your Castle) makes some sort of a scoffing remark beneath her cloth-covered mouth and fidgets herself away, as far back against the plush carriage interior as she can. Even beneath the pale moonlight and faint swaying torchlight outside, bobbing in the hands of soldiers, he can see the scowl of disapproval and hatred on her face.

That would have to change real’ fast. No way he was tolerating a disobedient bride for long.

A rapping comes from outside the window. Carefully, Minho opens the small glass door, pulling the curtain aside along with it. “What is it?”

Seungmin’s face appears in the open space. “We may have a problem. Two, actually.”

“Yes, yes, what are they?”

His first attendant licks his lips nervously. “Well for starters, Jeongin is going to have a mental breakdown if Doongi scratches his face one more time. Your pets--”

“My family.”

“...Your family is getting antsy being cooped up in the carriage for so long.”

A hissing can be heard in the distance, followed by Jeongin’s muffled scream. Minho sighs.

“Fine, Fine…” He glances tentatively at his soon-to-be bride. “We’ll stop at the next fork in the road and switch passengers. I will ride with the children and Jeongin can accompany Princess Y/n until we arrive.”

“Very good, Your Majesty.”

Minho makes a face, suddenly. “...It shouldn’t be long now, yes?” ((After all, you and Chan did WALK into town.)) “What’s taking so long? How much farther?”

Seungmin looks a bit grave. “...That’s...the other thing I wished to speak to you about.”

“???”

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

You can hear the shouting from your new location inside a smaller (yet still quite plush and fancy) carriage that’s covered in cat fur...and a pitiful attendant with a bloodied face

“So we’ve been traveling in circles this whole TIME?!?!”

Oof

That kind of anger didn’t bode well for whoever’s plan this was

“Ahh…we’re so sorry, Your Majesty! But the guard won’t let us through! They refused to take us seriously when we proclaimed to be the Fire Nation escorting the Princess home…”

The Fire King let out a groan.

You zoom your attention on the boy before you, holding a dampened cloth of alcohol to his face and hissing as it makes contact with several wounds. Poor guy is young, and he couldn’t be too much younger than you. Give or take three to four years.

“M-mm-m, mm mm-mm mm m.”

He looks at you like you’re speaking in tongues. Which, quite frankly, you may as well be. “...What?”

“Mm mmm, m-mm-m, mm mm-mm mm m!”

“.........”

Peering left and then right, he makes sure both curtains are closed before leaning forward and pulling down the cloth over your face. You cough a bit, spitting out pieces of string and fabric and the dry taste in your mouth. “...”

“......” Jeongin seems to be admiring you in a new sort of light. It’s a bit weird, but flattering. “Um, what was it that you tried to say?”

You look him dead in the eye, which is somewhat hard to do, but your anger helps you manage. Jeongin winces backward, something twitching in his mind. “I said, if I were you, I would blow this joint.”

“.........” Jeongin glances down at his shoes, staring hard at the laces. He seems to be taking your words quite seriously, though you’d half meant them as a joke. “...I’m in no position to do such a thing. Just thinking about it is treason.”

“Treason? For having thoughts? You don’t have any mind readers in your country, do you?”

Slowly, he shakes his head no. It was kinda cute how seriously he was taking your words...and a bit sad, too. “No, we don’t dwell in psychics or anything supernatural. But the author of this story has been kinda thinking about making a supernatural au for some time now--”

“Huh?”

“Hmm?”

“.........”

A rapping comes at the carriage door. Jeongin acknowledges it with a nod. “...Never mind.” He opens the window. There, again, was Seungmin’s floating head alongside a ball of fire.

“His Majesty Pain-in-the-Ass is being difficult again. Imagine that. He wants us to make camp and then plans on playing the martyr card come tomorrow morning.”

“...He expects us to camp out in the woods?”

“That’s the order.”

Jeongin groans. He leans back in his seat, tossing the rag down in frustration. “...Maybe I really should consider running away…are you hiring, by chance?”

It was meant to be a joke. But you take it all too seriously.

“Why, yes, actually, I am.” :))))))))))

“....................”

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

And so that is how you have now ended up here

In front of a roaring fire

All comfy cozy in the new fleece pajamas Jeongin and Seungmin sewed for you out of one of Minho’s extra capes and some “spare” fabrics

Sipping some freshly pressed apple juice and flipping through King Minho’s edition of Royalty Daily

Seungmin, to your left, is fashioning you a new pair of slippers that you can wear both indoors and out and will feel as if you never stepped out of bed

And Jeongin, to your right, slowly moving an electric fan around your face, in a pleasant manner that wasn’t at all distracting

It was glorious, really ٩(˘◡˘)۶

You never imagined being so relaxed in an enemy camp held hostage, even if you were a Princess…

...The only thing sour was the sour look of King Minho brooding at the other side of the fire.

“What is the meaning of this?” he hisses, eyes flitting back and forth between his two former attendants and you in-between. “Why aren’t the two of you doing your normal duties?”

“We are doing our normal duties,” Seungmin explains, snipping the thread he was working with.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Are you defying me right now?!”

Minnie scoffs. “Defying? You? Wouldn’t dream of it, Sire.”

“......” Minho dramatically rose from his seat, snatching a slipper off the boy’s lap. “Then what is the meaning of this,” he demands, shaking it about. You notice from a new angle of lighting the cute white polka dots patterned along dark pink fabric. Adorable. “Why are you...restyling my slippers?!”

Seungmin gives a reputable glare, snatching the slipper right back in the sassiest way possible, and dusts it carefully, as if it were tainted by the mere touch of another. “These are not for you, dear King. They are for My Lady, Princess Y/n.”

O-O

Now surely you can imagine, the look on Minho’s face is not a good one. “They’re… They… Y-Your whAT?!?!”

“SHHHHHHH!!!” Jeongin chimes. “Lord Zuko, you must keep your voice down! The Princess is trying to read, and she has sensitive hearing!” >:((

“.........”

(✿︶‿︶)

*Sluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurp*

You sip that apple juice like it’s the sweetest tonic out there

And Minho, stunned, can only watch...until he throws down his foot and starts having an unroyaly absurd hissy fit

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOUR PRINCESS?! SHE’S MY BRIDE, AND THE HOSTAGE!!! And what do you think the two of you are doing?! What are you saying?!? Have you...are you telling me you switched sides?!?!”

“Well…”

“We aren’t telling you, we were hoping you’d get the memo by watching.”

!? “ARRRGH!!!”

._____.

The three of you watch with second-hand embarrassment, along with a couple of nearby guards, until

The King has to pause mid-fit

For a rustling in the bushes pulls his attention aside-- along with the others.

Minho seems to gain his composure surprisingly quickly. With serious glint in his eyes, he pulls his sword, in unison with the surrounding army he’d brought.

Behind you, Jeongin respectfully pulls you close, Seungmin brandishing his own blade and standing protectively before you.

You’re confused, almost, at how high the tension had magically become

You can feel Jeongin’s heartbeat against you back, and the silence amid the rustle is deafening

A single bead of sweat rolls down your neck…

And then evaporates when a field mouse screeches at the glinting of sharp metal objects and flees. 🗿💧

“Oh...false alarm…” the Fire King sighs. His army groans, reupholstering their swords and spears

And then jump in surprise at the ambush that comes after

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

I know we’re 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ flying through this story kinda fast now but just hang tight

Cause a few familiar faces had come to save the day B))

Familiar faces known as Sir Changbin, Newly-awarded Knight Jisung, and brother who loved you a little too much, Felix

The way your brother’s sword clashed with Minho’s as your new attendants hurried you into the awaiting cart was a sight to behold

And you could still hear the screams of startled men even now :(((

Luckily Felix held a philosophy unlike your father to not cause any permanent damage at all costs, so no casualties occurred; just a lot of smoke-bombing and a few cuts and bruises

Then there was Jisung, who had to hang on to the roof bc he went flying during the ambush and landed in a tree and there just wasn’t enough time to get him inside so Changbin had to snap a branch and let him fall on top...but

You know

No casualties :))))

“Are you okay?!?!” Felix is demanding, checking you face, your neck, your hands. You sigh and shake your head, which at first he takes as a no and has a small panic attack but you give him a little shove followed by a hug

“I’m fine. I’m sorry I was gone for so long...but thank you for saving me.” <3

Felix hugs you back, though a grim look resides on his face. “I’m gonna have a serious talk with Chan. I can’t believe he just left you out in the city-- or the forest-- to find your own way home in the dead of night when you’ve scarcely left the palace before!”

!!!

You jump back, startling him a bit. “Chan didn’t leave me! Please...don’t be mad at him.”

“Wha?” He lists his head. “Then what happened?”

“......” Oops. “I...I left him. I thought I could make it back on my own.”

His arms cross. “And what the heck made you think that?”

>:((((((((

At this, you almost felt a sense of defiance. Almost.

Felix didn’t think you could make it on your own?! You?!? A twenty-something year old young woman?!?!?

...Well he was right because you had absolutely no sense of direction except where the shampoo was in your royal bathroom 😔

BUT HE DIDN’T HAVE TO RUB IT IN Y’KNOW?!?!

“I--!”

“You? Yes?”

“......”

“......” Sigh. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you...but first you have to let my friends go.”

The screen pans over to Seungmin and Jeongin, tied back to back with apples shoved in their mouths. Seungmin stared a hole into Felix’s head while Jeongin was actually making some decent progress getting a bite out of the apple to free himself...until some juice went down the wrong pipe and he started choking.

“RhUK--!!!”

“Your friends?” The prince huffs. “These are the Fire Lord’s attendants. I’ve met them on two occasions in the past. Trust me, they aren’t your...friends.”

You stamp your foot, to which everyone comically flinched. Outside, Han howled at the branches slapping him in the face and the dust in his eyes. “They work for me now, and they’re my friends!!! 😤😤 So let them go right now or I’ll push them out and roll out of here right beside them!”

“!!!”

Felix couldn’t have this, so

He gets to untying, and once freed, the four of you sit on the empty cart floor: you and your attendants on one side, Felix on the other. He exchanges a few words with Changbin up front and Han still on the roof before settling down for your story

“We should be arriving to the west gates shortly. Also, Han is fine, so don’t worry about him. Tell me everything that happened.”

You do. You start from the beginning, with Chan, and the wonderful time the two of you shared. Then you tell him about the village, and how lovely window shopping was, and the moment that all came to a halt. You explain Christopher’s Garden, the aging man who sleepily walked out the front door, the exchange that occurred between him and Chan...the way they embraced. You’d felt so happy but out of place, you decided to venture off and give them the privacy they very much deserved.

Then you come around to Minho. How you’d tried to run, but only made it so far thanks to your new mortal enemy, rocks. You’d become a hostage, and you quickly rush through the rival king’s evil(?) plan to lie his way to victory.

And, of course, you mention the proud and wise decision of his most loyal and trusted adversaries switching sides and how good you are at making friends (ღ˘⌣˘)♥ so that happened

By the time you get through the whole (short? Not really) story, the six of you have arrived at (Castle’s) West Gate.

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

M E A N W H I L E

In the past tense bc the author’s random switching is a meme

A certain evil(?) king named Minho was angry

You can understand, right?

I mean, his future bride had escaped, his former friends(?) betrayed him, and he got his ass beat pretty flawlessly by some punk prince who didn’t even injure him that badly...ON PURPOSE

This was a DISASTER

A TOTAL NIGHTMARE

😭😭😭

SCREW THIS HE WAS GOING TO BE VICTORIOUS WITH CHAMPAGNE POURING OVER US AND ALL HIS FRIENDS AND HE WOULD BE GLORIOUS NO MATTER WHAT

In fact, he was following the trail with a few uninjured guards as he spoke

“Keep following the tracks,” he demanded from the window of his carriage. Doongi, Soongi, and Dori all meowed in agreement. “I want those fools hand-tied and the princess back in her station before the sun rises. Is that clear?”

“Crystal, Sir!!!” They all cried. Minho scoffed, closing the window and falling back exhaustively in his seat

He messaged his temples...since Jeongin wasn’t there to do it for him

How did this happen?

How could he lose?

How could he let you and the others just escape like that...and fall for such a subtle, dumb trick?

Also…...there was the matter of his childish behavior from before

In front of the princess, his future wife

His friends

His army

……

That really hadn’t been like him at all

He just...was so stressed lately

And exhausted

Did he mention exhausted?

What time was it, like, 1 am???

That might be fine for you, but normally this king had his ass under covers by 11 pm

He could scarcely keep his eyes open were it not for all the rocks and potholes and--

…

And the curious young man that just stumbled out into the road.

Minho leaned forward, staring through the open front window, squinting in the darkness to make out a face; was that one of the boys? Was that Seungmin, or Jeongin perhaps?

It certainly didn’t sound like it-- the sap was calling out a name, and seemed to be dressed in tattered old clothes. Probably a peasant looking for his lost sheep or dog.

But then his men pulled the carriage closer, since that previous battle had spooked all the horses away, and Minho was able to make out a name: “Y/n!!! Princess, say, “here I am!!!””

…………

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Gottem.

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

To be continued...maybe.

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

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rossmccallsqueen · 4 years

Text

Music and Lyrics

Brian May x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Brian have just had a beautiful little girl, but she doesn’t have a name yet.

Warnings: N/A (just lots of fluff)

Word count: 1.6K (I know it’s short I’m sorry)

A/N: I know it’s been awhile and I’m so sorry y’all. Quarantine has not been my friend, but I’m so happy to be writing again. I hope you enjoy!

Nine months later and here you were, in your hospital room, absolutely exhausted. You’d been told time and time again that being pregnant and giving birth were truly tiring, but now that you were experiencing it first hand it was an entirely different ball game. It was your first pregnancy after all, so this was so new to you. Your saving grace had been your husband. Brian was not a first-time dad, but this was his first with you. He had been so excited throughout your whole pregnancy, wanting to experience all of your firsts with you.

You knew it was because he hated himself for missing those things with his other children. He was going to be there the whole time, he told you. And he had been. When the two of you had heard your daughter’s heartbeat for the first time you remembered Brian had tears in his eyes. You could tell this was special to him, and the love you felt for him was indescribable in those moments.

You would be lying to yourself if you hadn’t been nervous about Brian becoming a dad again. In the back of your mind, there was that little worry that he wouldn’t give your daughter as much attention and things like that. Every time you’d convince yourself out of it but for some reason, the thought wouldn’t go away. Anxiety was a funny thing sometimes when it came to things like that, you thought. Brian was amazing with his other kids. He had spent so long righting his wrongs with them, and you felt he had done so.

But what if the same things happened again? You didn’t want him to be the dad that your daughter only sees once every couple of weeks. Everyone knows the early years are so important to a child’s well being and life in the long run. You looked over at him, as he was asleep on the couch chair thing that the hospital always puts next to the bed for dads when their significant other was in labor. He looked peaceful, unlike yourself. You’d think that after pushing a whole baby out of you that you’d be tired enough to sleep, but apparently not.

You thought you should at least try to shut your eyes. Maybe then you would be able to trick yourself into falling asleep, but you had your doubts. Just because your eyes were closed, didn’t mean that your brain would turn off at the same time.

Not long after you started to trick yourself into falling asleep, you heard a soft knock on the door.

“Yeah?” You heard Brian say.

“I saw Mum was asleep, so I thought Dad would want to spend some time with the little one. Still no name yet?

“Not yet. I would love to take her.” Brian responded. Small coos came from her mouth as Brian gently took her from the nurse. Followed by the nurse’s footsteps out of the room and the door shut, you opened your eyes just enough to see Brian lean back against his chair bed with your daughter on his chest.

That was another thing that had been on your mind, trying to figure out her name. Whenever one of you came up with something the other one didn’t like it. You were about to ask Freddie because he had named Tiger Lily for Roger. Freddie seemed to be the best at coming up with names. But Brian insisted. He thought that the two of you should come up with it since it was your first child. You just had a child and there were a million things on your mind, no wonder you couldn’t sleep.

You peeked your eye open again one more time, and you saw Brian kissing your daughter’s forehead. He had tucked her in under his t-shirt and was rubbing her back. You kind of wished that you weren’t pretending to be asleep so that you could get the camera out and take a picture. However the more you looked, the more you could tell it was a special moment.

“I cannot believe we still don’t have a name for you, little one. I thought your brother and sister were small, but you give a new meaning to the word.” He spoke so softly. It would always amaze you how he could sing so loudly on stage, but talk so softly to tiny humans.

“You’re absolutely beautiful, just like your mum. You’ve got my nose though, you poor thing. Your mum will say I have a wonderful nose but I’m not so sure that I agree with her.” You smiled, as he was right. You loved Brian’s nose. She started getting a little fussy, and Brian kissed her again.

“Would you like to hear a song? Yeah how about we sing a song. You’ll grow up hearing lots of it baby girl.”

Isn’t she lovely? Isn’t she wonderful?

Isn’t she precious? Less than one minute old

I never thought through love we’d be, making one as lovely as she

But isn’t she lovely, made from love?

He was singing one of your favorite Stevie Wonder songs. He had sung it to her while she was growing inside you, so you knew he would sing it to her once she was born. Your damn hormones were making your eyes water looking at the two of them because it was so sweet. Any worries that you had about Brian before were slowly starting to go out the window. You could already tell that his whole heart and more loved your daughter. Within a day, she was already your whole world.

Isn't she pretty? Truly the angel's best

Boy, I'm so happy, We have been Heaven blessed

I can't believe what God has done

Through us, He's given life to one

But isn't she lovely made from love?

Brian made the song sound like something completely new. His voice had put your daughter to sleep and it was starting to do the same thing to you. You didn’t want to fall asleep yet though, you wanted to watch how precious Brian was being with your daughter. Then it came to you again, you still hadn’t thought of a name for her.

You’d already suggested just about every name you could think of. At least the ones that you’d read in all the baby books you’d been given. She was already looking to be a Daddy’s girl, so maybe Brian would think of something.

You watched the two of them a little bit more. Brian continued to sing and your daughter didn’t make a fuss. His voice was like magic to her. That daddy daughter bond was definitely one to be taken seriously. She had Brian wrapped around her little finger so tightly already.

She had a head full of hair, which she definitely got from Brian. You could see the little curls forming on the top of her head, just like his. She had his nose and his hair, but he’d told you that she had your eyes and your smile (which he had also said were the best features to get). You wanted to hold her, but at the same time it was the sweetest thing getting to observe them. Brian had paused in his singing, and you took the chance to “wake up” from your nap.

“Hello love, who do you have there?” You asked. Brian looked up at you and a warm smile spread across his face.

“Just our little one. She’s the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on. How did we create something like this?” He kissed her forehead one more time.

“I’ve been asking myself that since she got here. But ya know what?”

“What is it my love?” Brian could barely take his eyes off your daughter.

“She still doesn’t have a name. Maybe we should come up with one?” You suggested, a little smile showing in your tone.

“That might be a good idea, yes.” He laughed a little, and got up out of his chair while holding your daughter tightly in his arms. She was so small his arms almost swallowed her. You moved a little so that Brian could sit down with you on the bed. He maneuvered so that your daughter was laying on the bed in front of you two so that you could both get a good look at her.

“Any ideas Mr. May?” You asked.

“Not a one. How about you Mrs. May?” It always made you feel all warm and glowy inside when he called you that. That would definitely never get old.

“I think I have one.” You smiled. You’d finally thought of it.

“Care to share with the class?” He raised an eyebrow and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I heard you singing to her. She loved the sound of your voice, it was almost like magic. So I think we should call her Melody.” You looked at Brian for his reaction. His eyes lit up like it was Christmas, and you knew that was the one.

“That’s it. That’s her name! Melody May. What a wonderful name for a wonderful little girl made from love.”

But isn’t she lovely? Made from love.

———————

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vanchlo · 3 years

Text

The Partner / Chapter Four, “Telling”

Word Count: 11.6k words / Story Masterlist / Read The Assistant / Read on Wattpad / Song: Combat by Hazel English (click to listen)

“Now is now. Are you going to be here or not?”

- Ram Dass

The trill of the ringtone brought my eyes open, but as soon as I do and the sun blinds me, I wish that I hadn’t. He was always the one to close the blinds after I’d opened them, something I’d forgotten to do already.

“Hello?” I say, blindly answering the phone, retreating to under the covers.

“Hi, bug. I hope ‘m not interruptin’ anythin’ important at work, but ‘m on me lunch and wanted t’ call. I miss my fiance.”

A smile is already brewing on my lips, beginning the first second I heard Harry’s voice. It had only been hours since I’d heard it last, but somehow, it was always too long.

“Oh, hi,” I reply, clearing my throat, knowing my sleep-ridden voice gives it away already. “Um, I’m actually at home.”

“Oh, ya are? ‘s ev’rythin’ okay with you, Becks? God, yer not sick, are you? Of all times fer that t’ happen and ‘s when ‘m gone on a case,” his voice is heavy, laden with displaced guilt that makes my insides roil. Luckily, it’s not in the same way they’ve been doing lately.

“Yeah. I woke up at 5 this morning and got sick.”

“God, ‘m so sorry, bug, that ‘m not there t’ take care o’ you. Sounds like I woke you from a nap, ‘m-,” I cut him off before the unnecessary grief can weigh either of us down all the more.

“It’s okay, Harry. I probably just ate something that was off, leftovers that weren’t good anymore. I feel fine now.”

“Good, ‘m glad t’ hear yer feelin’ better already. ‘ll be home on Thursday, ‘m jus’ sorry ‘s not any sooner.”

The first hints of a laugh fall from my lips, “Stop apologizing. It’s fine, I’m fine. I can manage a little throw up, Harry, you don’t need to say that. Believe me, I’m just glad you’re not here to see it.”

“You stop it, li’l one. We’re gettin’ married, Becks, fer better or fer worse, rememba?”

“Of course, but I’m okay. I only threw up this morning and . . “

He doesn’t give me the chance to finish, “Threw up mo’ than once? Becks honey, yer sure yer okay?”

“Yes, Harry, I’m okay,” it comes out accompanied by a laugh, making me miss his. “I’ll manage on my own for the next two days until you’re back. Thanks though, it’s cute how you worry.”

“‘s what a husband does, love, what any person does fer tha person they love.”

“I miss you,” it’s a soft murmur, holding more words than I’d know how to say. “I know we’ve done this once or twice before, you having to travel for a case, but it’s hard.”

“I know, babe, it ‘s fer me too, makes me miss you so much,” the honey is there and so is the molasses, more decadent than ever. A little too much for me to handle, making me press that button. “Hey, what’re you doin’?”

It’s only a few moments until I’m squinting through the afternoon sunshine, feeling my sullen lips turn up into my cheeks.

“Hey, there’s my buggie.”

Perhaps, his smile couldn’t be bigger when I see it fill the screen of my phone. Harry’s one-hundred watt smile shines back at me, only growing as the seconds tick along. He’d started calling me that recently, a new spin on an old nickname. I think it was coming to be my favourite, although nothing could ever top ‘Becks.’

“Hi, babe. Don’t you look cute. What in the world are you doing?” my head falls back against the pillow as I move to lie on my side.

“‘m in me car, duh. Told you I was on me lunch. I jus’ had it, went t’ a restaurant here. Had their turkey BLT and it was incredible,” he says it as if I should know this, but he does it with a curl to his lips. One that hasn’t left yet. “I reckon you look cuter tho’, babe.”

“Thanks, but I think you need your eyes checked.”

Shaking his head, Harry doesn’t say anything. He props his elbow on the door of his Rover, sitting his chin in his hand. Today, he couldn’t look more handsome, and I’m sure that I couldn’t miss him more. I wanted to run my hands along the silky smooth lapels of his muted violet blazer, a new one.

I know it was the first thing I saw him wear, suits, but he still dazzled me when he wore a new one. Sometimes, after a long day or a few hours that felt like a day, and I saw him around the firm, it felt like the first time. The color brought out the warm green of his eyes, ones that sparkle while he cards a hand covered with rings through his curls. I never could figure out why he touched them so much, or messed with them, besides assigning it to nerves.

“How’d your morning go in court?”

The words come out in a huff, one that seizes his body with evident exhaustion, “Eh, alright. Not sure yet where ‘s headed, too early t’ tell, but ‘ll jus’ be glad t’ be done soon. This one’s been a real doozy.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I can’t wait for you to come home.”

“Same here, bug. ‘ve been sleepin’ so bad here, tha bed’s too firm at tha hotel and ‘m never tha right temp. ‘m either too cold or too hot, ‘cos I don’t have me li’l heater ‘round,” he hummed with a tilt to his head, a seemingly permanent one to his lips. “I can’t wait t’ come home, then ev’rythin’ will be better.”

I missed him, more than I’d let myself tell him, or maybe even myself, too. The very words repeated in my head that night when my dinner came back up, shouting it in my skull the next morning when I hung over the toilet. Spent with tears, I ached with a longing for Harry. It lessened after my stomach had recovered, but lying in an empty bed or staring down the firm’s hallway at his closed door, it felt worse than all of the other times I had missed him. At my worst, I wanted him, and nothing else. It felt silly to miss him so much when he was only gone trying a case for four days, but I didn’t sleep well either, waking up to remnants of his smell that woke me with lies. Little did I know how much I could ever miss a person, let alone my favorite one.

Returning to work hadn’t been as difficult as I feared it would be, but at times, it was worse. Rose and I were just finishing up a case before I was set to work with Harry again after he finished his upcoming one, something I was hardly able to wait to do. Luckily, I was still able to be there with Rose to help present the case in court, seeing as I only called in the one day. I couldn’t really otherwise, and the long sessions in court were catching up with me. I hadn’t been able to keep much food down, and even when I did, I was so tired from the poor sleep I was getting. Yesterday and the day before, I had snuck in a nap on my sofa, and that’s what was next on my agenda. I could hardly wait.

Ripping open the door to my office, something causes me to stop in my footsteps. Afterwards, I wouldn’t be able to put my finger on it, if somebody had asked. It was just that feeling again, and maybe not being able to remember if the light was on even though I’d turned it off. Or, maybe the other way around. Regardless, my eyes began a scan of the room, but they didn’t get very far.

“Hi, my buggie girl.”

“Harry,” it’s the only syllable I can get out, astonishment stealing all of the others from my lips. That and my forgetting speaking altogether when I dash across the room, giving him enough time to stand up before I collide with him.

The sound of an exhale accompanies the surprise in his voice, “Oh, hi, baby. Did I surprise ya?”

His giggle adds to the concoction of him that pours the word ‘calm’ over me, starting with his safe arms around me. His smell. The sound of his wheezy laugh against my head.

“Yeah, you’re good at that.”

“Reckon I am. I got done early and found an earlier flight,” he remarks, humorous pride in his deep drawl. Molasses found althroughout. “How’re you doin’ t’day, love? ‘m sorry we didn’t get t’ talk on tha phone this mornin,’ bloody phone tag ‘s t’ blame. I hope yer hearin’ t’day went well.”

“It’s okay. I’m just so glad you’re here now,” honesty weighs heavy in my words, and in my eyes when I meet his greens. A color I didn’t know that I could miss, but I did, all those years ago. Those dimples too that fall into his cheeks before my eyes.

“Couldn’t be happier t’ be home . . even if I lost me case, but ya win some and you lose some,” Harry hums, thumbing at the divot in my own cheek. “Missed you so much.”

I feel like I can finally take a breath again when he hugs me against his front, sponging kisses along the top of my head. I felt like me again with him home, welcoming him with kisses and later, a night between the sheets.

Yet, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep lying to myself about that, knowing that my feeling of mine told me otherwise.

The day after he came home was no different, but little did I know how it would undoubtedly pass any expectations I could ever have. Any possibilities whatsoever.

I woke with a start, and a rock in my stomach, just like yesterday, and all of the times before. I knew what was going to happen before I even moved, that the second I did it would be a race to the bathroom. Thankfully, I hadn’t missed and hit the floor yet, but I felt like I was going to each and every time. It was just a matter of when.

He wasn’t up yet, and I wished for the past when I could turn over and cuddle with him to wake up, not by throwing up. But, I was thankful that he wasn’t awake because he thought I didn’t see it, but I did. I saw the way his face fell when I told him that I’d gotten sick again, despite his lawyer expertise concerning those blessed features of his.

This time, I made it too, wretching into the toilet. I thanked God, if there was one, that my side of the bed was closer to the bathroom. I also thanked him that Harry didn’t wake up and walk in until after I was done, or I hoped so.

“Oh, no. Not again, bubs,” he sighs in his raspy drawl thick with leftover sleep. I’m void of a response, head in my arm propped over the toilet bowl.

The swirl of soiled water disappears before me, having flushed it the second I heard his footsteps. We’d been through heaven and hell together, and yet there were still some things that were embarrassing. Throwing up was one of them. The first signs of relief begin to wash over me like cold water on a scorching day from a wet rag he swipes over my cheek.

“I dunno, Becks, this ‘sn’t seemin’ t’ let up. ‘s been a few days now, maybe you should go t’ tha doctor, love.”

“It’s okay, Harry. What could they do anyway for a stomach bug?” my sigh comes, the words muffled against my arm when I lay my head down, grimacing at the smell that’s stained the inside of my mouth. I feel like taking the rag I hold against my head and scrubbing my tongue until I can’t taste it anymore. It seemed to always be there off to the side like a threatening storm, the last couple of days since this had started.

“I dunno, ya don’t know ‘til ya try,” he comments, feet making soft noises on the floor. I don’t hear the run of the tap like I did a moment ago, instead the unscrewing and screwing of something before the sloshing of liquid. “I jus’ dunno what it could be, a stomach bug doesn’t last this long, does it?”

A mumbled reply lacking answers graces my lips after he places a cup in my hand. Lifting my aching head, I find purple mouthwash sitting in the tiny cup we use for brushing our teeth.

“Have you ever had somethin’ like this befo’, bug?”

Taking my time swishing the minty liquid around in my mouth, I almost sigh at the welcomed taste, willing the previous one away. After shaking my head at him, I nearly choke gargling on the peppermint tasting liquid when I hear his next comment.

“Let’s jus’ hope yer not pregnant, dunno how you would be tho,’” Harry titters, humor threaded throughout his tired words. “Well, we certainly do know how babies are made, we sure do loads o’ it-.”

“Stop, Harry, it’s not funny,” I don’t intend for it to come out in a near retort, but I can’t stop myself.

“Why not? It wouldn’t be bad if ya were, we’ve always wanted babies.”

My response comes, short and to the point, “You know why. We’re getting married in August, Harry.”

“Things can be moved ‘round, Becks, a baby can’t.”

“Stop talking about this like I’m pregnant, because I’m not,” I say, feeling my head fill with another wave of dull pain when I get to my feet. His hand catches my elbow when I begin to sway, legs feeling like Jello.

“Didn’t say you were, bug, ‘m sure ‘s jus’ a stomach thing. They pass afta a few days, so you should be right as rain again soon,” Harry assures me, stepping to the side to face me. Despite his angering comment, a cooling sense of relief comes when his lips touch my clammy forehead. “Maybe you should stay home again, sleep it off.”

“I’m okay, I feel a little better now. My stomach goes hard, I throw up, and then it’s done. Like clockwork.”

“‘Kay, but if ‘s not gone in two days, I want you t’ go in and be seen . . ‘m gonna hop in tha shower if you wanna join me,” Harry rasps, cocking his head to the side as the corners of his lips lift, honey dripping from them. I always loved the way he looked in the mornings. The disheveled hair that sometimes stuck up in all directions, sunshine glazing over in his eyes, and how those lazy lips always held a smile for me. This time, it was dripping with mischief, a look that I knew all too well.

“Yeah, and we both know what that’s going to lead to, Harry. Not a lot of actual showering.”

That M word grows on those watermelon pink lips of his, ones I could just eat up. “Ya, we could practice makin’ a baby, if you like. Y’know, again.”

“Stop,” it’s the closest I’ve come to giggling this morning, or any affability I’ve harbored towards this topic. “But, no. I’m sorry, I don’t really feel up to it.”

“Fine, we’ll jus’ shower fer real this time, love. ‘ll even wash you up, since yer not feelin’ good. I bet it’d help t’ feel all clean aftawards.”

“Okay,” I sigh, relishing the satisfaction gracing his cheeks masked by new stubble the color of chocolate.

“I don’t like my baby bein’ all sick,” Harry hums with his lips against my temple, the smell of vanilla and sandalwood lulling my eyes closed. It felt as if there were few times when knots didn’t riddle my insides lately, but right now, in his arms, I was free.

It had been bothering me all day, ever since Harry’s comment. If I was telling myself the truth, it had been gnawing away at the insides of my brain for longer than that. There was so much inside of me telling me that his suspicion was right when all I wanted was for it to be wrong. If I was doing that truth thing again, of course, there was a remaining part of me that wanted it to be right, but it was miniscule at best. No more was said about it after that, but that fact in itself only made it harder to forget. Even if I had wanted to speak to him about it, he had been in partner meetings all day. I knew he was due for lunch here soon, and that’s what led me to run a quick errand before then, nabbing the car keys from his right drawer where he always left them.

I certainly didn’t think that this was how it would be happening, at Harry’s firm of all places. Our firm? Guilt seeped under my skin the second I had put my plan into action, well aware that he had no idea what I was doing. Tears had been close all day long, since the time those joking words had left his lips. Sure, the blame went to him on that, but I couldn’t have known what it would lead to, either. We both could deserve the blame for this entire thing.

The second it’s done, I find that I can’t get myself to follow through. The closest thing I’ve felt to relief all day comes when I see my watch reads one o’clock. It feels like every person I pass knows my secret, despite that being an impossibility and more. The only person who could have the smallest inkling is the person whose door I stop in front of, because I’m not sure how I can do this. Or, that I can. I’ve surprised myself by getting this far in my plan.

When the door opens for me, I can’t decide if I feel lucky that he made the next decision for me. “Hi, bug. How’s yer mornin’ been? ‘ve missed you, y’know. Oh, whatcha got there? Did ya get me lunch?” his words couldn’t be sweeter. Neither could his hand that brushes against my cheek, sliding down my arm next. Alarms blare inside of me, yelling at me to tell him while others repeat the opposite. I don’t know why, but doubt floods me within milliseconds. I know that he wouldn’t be upset, but then how come I worry that he would be? “Ev’rythin’ okay, Becks?”

“I-I . . ,” I try and my failure is almost immediate. The only thing that I succeed at is pushing him back into his office, and closing the door.

“Becks, what’s wrong?” urgency shines through in his voice. It’s the last thing that I can find, in my hand or my lips. My name graces my ears a few times more as I stare at the floor, not knowing how I could ever say this. Not just that, unsure of how I can make the next move, knowing that it very well may change my life from this moment on.

“I-I can’t do it, Harry.”

“You can’t do what, bug? Ge’mme lunch?” his words are carried with that breathy laugh of his. I had been doing a good job so far today, far too good of a job. That ends when the first tear greets my cheek, and my lips begin to wobble. “Becks, what’s tha matter? Yer worryin’ me, buggie.” It shows all over him, even in the way his hand comes to cradle my cheek, wiping away the tears. Worry.

My attempt at a deep breath is futile at best, and with a sigh marked by tears, I throw caution to the wind. I do it.

“Can you, please? Because, I can’t, Harry. I can’t look at it, I’m too scared,” my words have been wicked away, the moisture in my throat too. All of it. Then, the breath in my lungs grows when I lift my hand. Any composure he had had is gone in a blink.

“Becks . . ,” now, his words are kidnapped from him, too. Come on, one of us has got to do it, and it won’t be me. “Honey, I was only jokin’ this mornin.’ You didn’t hafta take one . . Wait, yer serious, arentchu, Becks?”

“Y-Yeah. I-I missed that pill what, like two weeks ago when I lost my pack, a-and, I still took it but it might have been too late,” the words are thick on my lips, caught between the sobs that paint my cheeks with tears. They’re soon shed onto his button up when he presses me against his front.

“Oh, Becks. ‘m sure ‘s fine. Ya still took it, that’s all that matters, honey.”

I can’t remember the last time I couldn’t swallow like this, or when my heart felt like it was going to jump from my chest. It doesn’t help that my chest shakes with each new sob dealt by my lips. How do I even say it? I still can’t say the word, and how is that going to fucking work if it’s true?

“I-I was supposed to get my period last week, Harry, and I didn’t. I checked after you said that this morning and- I’m so sorry,” breaths fill my lungs hastily, but the confession doesn’t tell my heart it’s okay to stop racing a nonexistent opponent. Neither does the long sigh that leaves my fiance’s lips.

“Becks, honey, you have nothin’ t’ be sorry ‘bout. Promise,” the sensation of his warm breath against my ear distracts me, but only for a mere moment.

The devil and angel inside of my head continue to scream at me to get it over with. One insists so that then I can take the biggest breath of relief while the other cackles that my life is never going to be the same. Somehow, I find the courage to step away and to find his eyes that have grown glassy. One corner of his mouth lifts to send some sunshine my way, but I feel nothing but the mid November cold outside his window.

“It may very well be negative, y’know,” he assures me, reaching his other hand out to cradle my cheek once again. His thumb swipes back and forth on the skin, wiping away the tears like the contraption on a car’s windshield.

“And if it’s not?” my voice is sheepish and nothing else, framed by sniffling.

“Then, it’ll be okay too, promise. We spoke ‘bout if somethin’ like this were t’ happen, befo’ we even started havin’ sex. So, we were prepared. We’d keep it, of course, and we’re gettin’ married soon anyway, bug. Babies were always in tha plan, maybe we’ll get our wish a tad early, ‘s all. If so, we can reschedule tha wedding t’ be early or later on. Promise you it’ll be okay, my Rebecca Ann,” I’m not sure of the last time I had heard his voice dripping with so much sweetness. This time, I can’t tell if it does anything to fill the cracks . . to fix it. “I wantchu t’ know that befo’ I turn it over and read it. And, that I love you.”

“I love you too, Harry . . so much,” I whimper, my lips soon stilled with a kiss from his. “You’re not mad?”

“No, ‘course not, bug. Why in tha world would I be mad? We’ll be okay no matter what it says, and ‘ll be happy either way. Reckon ‘ll be over tha bloody moon if it turns out one way,” his grin couldn’t possibly reach any higher. Another chunk inside of me is filled with the sourness of guilt, because everything has drained out of me, including any happiness I could find. “I know you would be too- or would you? Ya really don’t seem okay, Becks.”

“I dunno,” my shoulders rise and fall with the two parts to my sentence. “Just scared . . We had this big, perfect plan and . . “

“I know, buggie, but nothin’ ‘bout our entire relationship has ever been traditional or somethin’ close t’ normal, but we’ve turned out okay. Much better than okay, ‘d say. We’ll be okay afta this too, we always are. ‘ll always take care o’ you, Becks, and our babies one day too,” he only reminds me once again of his talent of words and choosing the right ones. I suffice my absence for them with a hand lacing with his, and squeezing it. It just so happened to be my left one, and he lifts it to press a kiss to my engagement ring.

The closest I can manage to a swallow is when his lips press below my eye, and I hear his words, “We’ll be alright.”

“I know,” at first, I’m not sure if he had heard me. When he nods, I know. But do I really believe it?

“Ready?” my favorite voice in the entire world says. I’m not, but my heart can’t go on any longer with this suspense, and so my head answers for me. “Alrighty, then,” Harry murmurs, giving my clammy hand a squeeze. Unable to decide where to look, I can’t take my eyes away, despite being uncertain how fast I’ll get the answer then.

When I think back on it later, I’d never be able to conclude whether I wish he had kept his lawyer composure or not. The way I told the story was that the second Harry turned the pregnancy test over and his eyes found it, they lit up like a Christmas tree. There couldn’t be another ray of light inside of them, and I knew.

“We’re gonna be parents, Becks,” he says in a voice choked with emotion, it too appearing in his eyes that echo mine.

“Really?” it’s as if I had been socked in the gut, because the air whooses out of me in that instant. His nodding is emphatic as he turns it around to face me. If I hadn’t believed him before, my denial is renounced when I see the word that had been a question in my mind all morning.

“We’re havin’ a baby,” Harry wheezes with wet words, dropping his arm. I don’t remember his coming around me in a hug, or replying to him, echoing those same words.

It’s all a blur, his words of excitement about becoming a father, my obligatory remarks likened to his. Moments later, I sit there on his sofa wondering what the hell just happened. Turning over the oblong plastic thing in my hands, the one word goes in and out of focus before the tears that flood my eyes.

Pregnant

I’m going to be a mum.

How?

I don’t even know how to be one. I don’t know the first thing about changing nappies. I try to eat healthy, but it never works. I hardly get enough sleep and drink enough water, as it is. Sure, I thought I’d have kids by 25, and I’m newly 28, but I still feel so young. I most definitely don’t feel ready to become a mother.

No, we’re supposed to get married this summer. I already picked out the dress. It’s perfect, and I won’t be able to fit into that with a watermelon in there, and fucking grapefruits on my chest. Wait, how far along would I be at the wedding?

Shit, I’d be ready to pop by then, if not having done so already. Fuck.

“No,” it flies from my lips. I don’t stop it as my head tips into my hands, spilling loud sobs there. The sound of my crying is the only thing that I hear. No, there are no words from Harry or consolation, because the Dad To Be couldn’t have jumped higher from the news. He’s next door telling Myles, and I couldn’t feel lower.

How can this be? We were so careful. I took my pill every day at dinnertime, but I thought still taking the one after almost missing it entirely was fine. The package said so, and I had had some spotting not long after, a few days of it. The pill had made my periods lighter and easier, so I just assumed it was my period. I went through all of the typical stuff - breakouts, sore boobs, the cramps.

“Goddammit,” I mutter under my breath, embracing the sting of my fingernails digging into my scalp. “They’re fucking pregnancy symptoms too.”

And then, there was the vomiting. It wasn’t just in the mornings, but it had been sporadic the last few days. I thought that I had come down with a bug of some sort, but no. There was a baby growing inside of me, that’s why. It was the explanation for everything - my achy boobs, the cramping, the spotting, and the throwing up.

Harry’s baby.

Our baby.

Holy fucking shit.

As the clock in Harry’s office announces every passing second, my trip on the Guilt Express only carries on, because the Happiness Train was only moving farther away from me. Instead, the stops on my ticket are Unplanned, It’s Too Soon, What About The Wedding, We Just Got Engaged, We’re Fucking Moving Houses So Where Would A Baby Go, and This Is All A Dream, Right?

The sights of Harry’s office swim into view, but their familiarity does nothing to calm me. My heart still thrashes inside of my chest, and I’m afraid it may make a run for it. Suddenly, the announcement blares inside of my head again. Harry and I are having a baby in nine months. With a sniffle, my lips wobble as my head slowly falls. Dropping the pregnancy test on my lap, my hand inches towards my body.

It’s no different when I feel it, my hand caressing my flat stomach. Nor does it look anything but how it has for as long as I can remember. I’d be lying to myself if I said it didn’t feel any different inside of me, because it does. I can’t see it, or feel it, but the words appear inside of my head momentarily.

There’s a baby in there, in my belly. My baby. I’m its mum, and Harry is its dad. They’re ours. They could be a boy or a girl. They may not be bigger than my fingernail, I suppose, but God, they’re ours. The sourness builds upon each other, and I can’t hold it back anymore, soon finding refuge in Harry’s trash bin. Whimpers leave my lips as the contents of my stomach do too.

For one of the few times, I thank God that Harry wasn’t there. I busy myself with wrapping up the bag, replacing it with a new one, and lightning some candles. It’s not enough to remove the thoughts that I’m unsure I’ll ever escape, now. My head spins when I sit down again holding it, feeling my body shake as shouts fill my mind.

Why am I not happy? I have wanted to be a mum my entire life, and now that I am, I . . I wish that I wasn’t.

Why can’t I be like Harry? He doesn’t even have to try, and he’s happy about it. The tears only come faster when I realize that I don’t think I’ve ever seen him as happy as this, rivaling the night I told him I’d marry him.

“Alright, bug?”

Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear. Clearing my throat, I hurriedly wipe at my face whilst looking towards the window, wishing I could be anywhere else but here. That I could be anybody else but me.

“Y-Yeah,” my reply is mumbled. The tightness in my gut that appeared when I saw that look of happiness on his face fights on when his hand touches my shoulder.

“We should get some lunch in that belly o’ yers, Mummy. What’s sounding good t’ you?”

My insistence that I couldn’t feel worse is eradicated by his words washing over me. The specific ones that he chose to say, because it can get worse.

“I’m not very hungry.”

“Oh, stomach still queasy afta this mornin’, bub?” he questions. Without looking, I can tell that he’s taken a seat beside me, worry claiming his face. “Maybe somethin’ easy, then. Yogurt, a banana, rice, or some chicken noodle soup. Ya still gotta eat, love, ‘specially now with tha baby. They need t’ eat, too.”

Nodding my head up and down only makes it hurt worse. All I want to do is cry, and not in front of him. I want to be in our bed, without him there. What is happening to me? Since when do I wish he wasn’t around?

I don’t want to have to be thinking about how I haven’t had anything to eat today, and how that’s not good for our growing baby. The baby that relies on me to take care of it, and that in nine short months will need Harry and I every second to do that too. I hadn’t even completed my mentorship with him, or been at the firm for two years. We hadn’t even been together for two years. For God’s sake, we aren’t even married, yet.

“Becks?” for a lawyer, he does a poor job of hiding the urgency in his voice. The worry and doubt. The very feeling that I can’t walk away from, even though I don’t have it in me to try. “Any o’ that sound good t’ you . . and tha baby, love?”

There it is, again. The baby. I hate myself more and more when I get angry at him for saying it like that, reminding me of this newfound responsibility that I have. One that I didn’t ask for. I know that he doesn’t mean to add to the guilt o’meter, but he does. With every second that happiness escapes me, I do it without knowing, too.

“You can get Chinese, if you want. I’ll just have some broth and rice. I’ll try it, anyways.”

“‘Kay, good. Thanks, bug,” his words are punctuated with a kiss to the top of my head. I know that it’s coming, and that it’s the most overdue I’ve ever been for a question from him. His hand leaving stripes up and down my back doesn’t do much to help the impending doom. “Sure yer alright, Becks?”

I can’t do it. After all of the times that I did, I can’t this time. No, not about this. Wouldn’t it be easier to, though? To lie? Because, how in the fuck do I tell my fiancée, the love of my life, and my best friend in the entire world that I’m scared out of my mind that we’re having a baby? What words do I even choose to relay to the man who I’d always wanted to be the father of my children, that now we’re having a baby together, I can’t figure out how to be happy about it? I have to tell him, don’t I?

Harry is good at loads of things. Rather, there’s very few things that he’s not good at, and reading me isn’t one of them. Taking the last step that’s not there has been something I knew from the start he excelled at. When I need it the most, he does it. I feel the comforting weight of his body around mine, and sobs are flying from my lips again.

“I’m scared, Harry. I don’t know what to do, or how we’re going to do this. I don’t know how to be a mum, let alone a good one,” I couldn’t remember a time that my heart hadn’t been pounding beneath my ribs. Without asking, I wondered if the baby could hear it. It was so sudden, the way it had weaved its way into my thoughts, because all of a sudden, it was there too. The baby. Our baby. It had been there, growing inside of me for how many days now and we didn’t know.

“We’ll be okay, Becks. I promise you. I promise you. Ev’rythin’s gonna be alright, my love. ‘m gonna take care o’ you . . tha both o’ you. You, and our son or daughter. ‘ve known fer so long, well befo’ we got t’gether that you’d make a wonderful mum. Ya take care o’ me so well, and yer so good with Harper and Ollie. ‘m rather nervous too, they’ll be so tiny and helpless. I dunno tha first thing ‘bout breastfeedin,’ which dummy t’ choose, or what a baby wants when they’re cryin’ but, Becks, I know we’ll figure it out t’gether. We’re such a great team, love, and ‘m positive that we can take this on too,” my nodding into his chest is instantaneous, and so are the tendrils of relief when his fingers begin to comb through my hair. “'ve dreamt so long o’ havin’ babies with you, Becks. We’re gonna make tha cutest ones, I jus’ know it . . We’ll learn all o’ this t’gether, babe. We’ll be alright.”

“I love you, Harry,” still, the tears haven’t signalled a retreat. Neither has the sadness that weighs on my shoulders.

“I love you too, Rebecca Styles, mo’ than anythin’ in this entire world. Dunno how ‘ll come t’ love another quite like you, but already know I love our li’l baby loads. They’re gonna have tha best mum ever.”

I wish he could know that he mistakes my coming sobs for happiness when I don’t even know what the hell they are. I can’t figure out why they came when he talked about already loving our baby, and that I’ll be the best mum. Until I do, because I try to say something that affirms that I feel the same things too.

I can’t, because I don’t. I hope that eventually, I may.

It was difficult for me to remember the last time it had been like this, when all I had wanted was to feel okay again. Each time I questioned why I couldn’t, I only felt all the worse. It didn’t come when I had taken the second pregnancy test in the bathroom once Harry had gone back to his meeting. The same word showed up on this one too, although I’m not sure why I had thought it would be any different. I wasn’t sure if I could be swimming in any more guilt, realizing that I had begged and pleaded for it to say something else so all of this could go away.

I had dreamt of this day ever since I was a little girl. This wasn’t how it went. My tears were for another reason entirely, and for a while after Harry left again, I couldn’t get them to stop. I could hardly breathe. Just when I thought I’d caught my breath, the devil inside of me reminded me that I should be happy and that I’m not. The rug was pulled out from under me again and again, and so was my breath.

I’d seen him only twice this morning since we had gotten to work, seeing how he was in meetings all day long. No, now he was checking on me every hour, making excuses for bathroom breaks that were spent visiting me. By now, the tears had dried out and that was the least of my worries. As if this all wasn’t too much already, I’d never felt more numb.

It had been twenty minutes of ignorant bliss that he interrupted when he walked into my office again. The moment our eyes connect, it all comes rushing back to me. I remember it. The baby.

“Hey, love. How’s it goin’ in here?” Harry asks, looking a little too nonchalant as he strides into my office, hands in his trousers.

“You don’t have to check up on me. I’m fine, Harry,” my words take on a blunt edge that I intended, I can’t lie.

“But I want t.’ I dunno how t’ do all o’ this, ‘ve never been a Dad befo.’ I jus’ can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you, tha two o’ you,” he coos, arriving behind me and draping his arms around my neck. They lay there loosely, cupping my shoulders on either side. I thank God that he can’t see my face, especially when his hand wanders to my stomach that he rubs. “How ya feelin’? Did what ya had at lunch help settle yer stomach at all?”

Gritting my teeth, I ready my answer, forgetting the flow that I had found in writing up this statement for my case. “No,” I answer, swallowing afterwards, still able to taste it in my mouth despite the sticks of gum I’d chewed.

“Oh, ‘m sorry. Did-.”

“Yeah, I threw up again. But I’m fine, I had a cup of ginger tea and that seemed to help. I’ve been able to keep that down, plus a banana and a few slices of toast. I guess I was really hungry,” I respond, unsure of whether to take one of his hands, or not. This is all so unprecedented, and I really have no idea what I’m doing. I have a feeling of what I should be doing, like telling him that I’d already thrown up three times today, but I don’t know how to.

“God, ‘m sorry, love. ‘s it normal t’ be gettin’ sick so much like that? It can’t be good fer you or tha baby, but ‘m glad you were able t’ eat some mo.’ I hope that stuff stays down now, ‘s no wonder you were starvin’ since there was nothin’ left in there,” my eyes fall shut when his nose nudges at my temple in between kisses. “Ya sure I can’t get you anythin’? Y’know, there’s a whole case of ginger ales in me office, if ya want. I can’t believe I forgot they were there, I know they help settle yer stomach too.”

“Thanks. I might grab one a little later, or something. You should get back to your meeting, Harry, it’s important.”

“I know, jus’ wanted t’ make sure you were okay, buggie. Y’know, if ya need t’ at any time, you can go home if yer really not feelin’ well. ‘ll jus’ get a ride from Myles or somethin.’ ‘d come with, o’course, but I can’t miss these meetings,” blinking hard, his words find a crack inside of me, but there’s too many to choose from. He really is the best, only reminding me that I somehow found the perfect man to be the father to my children. I wish happiness bloomed inside of me at that realization, but sadness only comes again to overwhelm any happiness that brought me. Breathing in, my throat feels scratchy. Silently, I tell him to leave before it starts again. “If ya need anythin’ jus’ text me and ‘ll see it on me watch, ‘ll be checkin.’ I hope you have a good rest o’ yer day and that you continue t’ feel better. Love you.”

My pause continues for seconds and seconds more. Longer than I had meant before I can speak without giving it away, “I love you too.” I force a small smile at him when he walks away, wondering why I can’t have all of that sunshine inside of me like he always does. The door closes softly behind him, and my returning sobs are even quieter. Darkness is all I see when I bury my face into my knees, hugging them against my chest. Seconds later, I think of the baby, and loosen my grip.

This is what it’s going to be like for the next nine months, isn’t it? The rest of my life? I’m going to catch myself thinking about them first.

Once it starts, I can’t stop. Have I had a drink in the last few weeks? No, thank God, no. Have I been eating healthy? Kind of. Have I been sleeping well? Hardly. Wait, does sex hurt the baby? Because Harry and I had been doing a lot of that. Well, no duh, Becky, that’s what got you here in the first place. Had I been lying on my stomach too much, and would that hurt it? Had I been around secondhand smoke? Shit, did I miss my vitamin this morning?

With each new tear and question, my cheeks become slick with them. The air disappears from my lungs and I fight for it, shocked again to remember that it’s not just me anymore. I’m not just living for me anymore, or Harry, but our baby, too.

“Hey, Becks, one mo’ thing. Di- Bug, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”

Shit. I had just wanted to be alone with my thoughts. And our baby. But, did I really want that?

“No, how could I be? I can’t stop thinking about it. If I’ve been eating good, if I had a drink lately, if sex hurts it- Harry,” sobbing his name had never hurt as much as so many other times. Missing him afar hurt but not as much as that night we broke up. God, why am I thinking about that stuff when I’m supposed to be happy? The reminder doesn’t will the tears anyway, it only makes me feel worse.

“Oh, Becks. C’mere,” his voice is molasses all over again, but it hasn’t strayed very far from it since he told me that we were going to be Mum and Dad. That we were going to have a baby. I still can’t even say it, and I don’t think that I have. Even then, I don’t think it’d be real. No, saying it would make it too real. I know it. “Shh, ‘s okay.”

“It’s not, Harry, I’m so scared. What about the wedding and my mentorship here with you, and-,” my words are choppy and drowning under tears, but he hears them. He hears me, like he always has. His soft touch pulling me to my feet and over to my sofa doesn’t stop the incessant thoughts being thrown around in my head.

I’ll have to stop working, won’t I? What about Harry? He can’t, he owns the firm with Myles, and together with Rose, they’re in charge of all of the nitty gritty. Hiring. Helping with payroll. All of the menial stuff assigned to keeping the lights and water running. Licenses. Meetings upon meetings. Then, there’s still being a lawyer. It won’t just stop if we have a baby, but how would that work, I-

“I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, Becks, but it will be. Promise. ‘s okay that yer scared, ‘s a lot t’ wrap yer head ‘round. I keep catchin’ myself thinking, ‘Hey, ‘m gonna be a dad with a bloody kid. ‘ll be changin’ nappies, makin’ bottles, and my whole life will revolve ‘round this tiny person all o’ a sudden.’ ‘ve only jus’ started t’ talk t’ me own dad again, so I dunno how t’ be one meself, but I know ‘ll figure it out. We have nine months t’ prepare, Becks, and we’ll learn as we go. T’gether. Please, don’t worry ‘bout tha weddin’, we can move it ‘round or do a civil ceremony at first, if we want. We’ll figure it out, and it’ll still be perfect. Nothin’ less fer me girl.”

Harry’s words do everything but comfort me. Instead, they do the very opposite, and I’m struggling for breaths. Sitting on his lap, pressed against his front, I couldn’t be closer to him. My thoughts only make me feel further away from him, because of what he said. I don’t even have a mum. No, not really, so how in the fuck can I be one? Mine was horrible to me, and set the worst example of what a good mum is. So, how will I know what to do? How can I be a good mother to our baby one day soon, then?

“Yer already a good mum t’ our baby, Rebecca, I can’t say that enough. You eat good and make sure I do, drink far mo’ water than I ever do, yer always careful, never f’get t’ take yer vitamins unlike me, and sex doesn’t hurt ‘em, bug. You take such good care o’ me, you have from tha beginnin’, and I know you will with our baby too. We’ll figure somethin’ out, if you wanna stay home with ‘em once they come, or if my Mum moved up and took care o’ em. ‘ll be home too loads, I bet I could even work from home most o’ tha time. Hey, will you look at me, please?” Obliging, my head heavy with multitudes of questions lifts. Blinking, more tears join the others as his face sharpens before me. “I wouldn’t have wanted kids with you if I knew you wouldn’t be a good mum. Buggie, I want loads o’ em with you, so if that tells you anythin’ ‘bout how wondaful o’ a mum I know you’ll be t’ our kids . . We’re gonna have a baby, and we’ll be alright. ‘Kay?”

“We’re . . ,” the same sentence begins on my lips, but it falters. His own urges me to breathe, and I focus on that while his fingers card through my hair. The green in his eyes is molten heaven when I look back. I hope that they have his eyes. “We’re gonna . . have a baby, Harry.”

“Ya, we are, Becks. Tha cutest baby in all tha world, and sweetest too,” he grins, his sunshine warming my face.

“And we’ll be alright.”

“Yes, we will, my love. ‘ll make sure o’ it,” he concludes, smushing his lips against my forehead where he sponges a kiss. A zing spreads from his lips, and with those words, I start to breathe again.

Maybe, we will be okay.

“And then what happened, Mum?” her almond shaped blue eyes stare up at me, hanging onto my every word.

Swallowing, the words I know I’ll have to say wad into a ball in my throat. She knew, she’d heard bits of this story at times, but I wonder how much she remembered.

“Spoiler alert, things weren’t okay.”

“How come?” the way a wrinkle forms between her dark eyebrows reminds me of somebody all too well.

“Are you sure you want to hear this, love? It gets kind of sad,” I warn her, combing her dark chocolate curls off of her face. They’re just like his. Only when she nods with confidence in her actions do I continue, despite wishing he was here to help me tell this part.

It wasn’t okay. No, it was the very opposite. I had wished things would get better, that this nightmare would turn out to be a dream come true, but it wasn’t. Not yet, anyways.

I wish that I knew how to talk to him. There had never been a time when I was afraid to speak to Harry, or when I didn’t know how to. No, not for a very long time, at least. It was impossible to count the number of times I had put my head in my hands from the litany of thoughts raging inside of it, or just from the aches it held for other related reasons. I didn’t know what to do, and I wish that I did. Tense couldn’t even cover it, how it felt between us the last few days since the news hit. I seriously considered driving separately to work today to avoid it, until realizing it probably would only stir the pot, inciting another row between Harry and me. With how much my head already throbbed from likely dehydration and my pounds of destructive thoughts, I opted out of that one.

Staring at my cell phone sitting beside my laptop, my chin falls into my hand with a huff. The dark screen stares back at me as I will it to ring, to ding, or just to do anything because of him.

No, not anything, Becky. If you wished that, you’d end up getting another one of his annoying texts asking if you’d tried eating again. How much water were you drinking? If you wanted anything from the break room, if he were there. No, you just wanted a hug from him. Becky, you wanted a text from him that was about anything other than the baby. Him sending you a song he thought you’d like, a funny meme, a recipe the both of you should try, or just a sweet text.

I thought my hard work had paid off when I hear the chiming of a ringtone, even if it was my office’s. Still holding out hope, I pick it up, chirping my usual greeting, “This is Becky.”

“Hi, love! It’s about time I got ahold of you,” at the sound of the voice, my heart plummets into my stomach. My hand in my hair turns into a claw, my scalp soon singing with mild pain.

My lips wobble, unknowing of what words to say, and what tone to take, “H-Hi, Mum.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“I’m sorry, I-,” my beginning is rough, rooted in my tendency to people-please, just like I had always done with her. The phone begins to slip from my fingers clammy with a nervous sweat. Already. “Why are you calling me at work?” I almost say that same name again, the one word I’d always called her. It never felt real, like she was my mum, so why should I call her that? It never stopped being true though, that was just her name. No matter how much I hated her and that name, I could never stop it from being true.

“Because you weren’t answering your phone, silly! How have you been, Ree?” there’s a lift to her voice, the same one that drills an emptiness into my bones. It’s the one that she used to hide it all, in front of teachers, my friends’ parents, and anybody that she needed to use it with. It was the calm before the storm, the show she was trying to put on. The last thing I needed right now was another storm to come colliding with the one already raging a war inside of me. Through my life.

Closing my eyes, my thumb presses against my temple. No, you don’t get to call me that, M- Kate. I had been conflicted about wanting him all day long, but now, I needed him. How good he was at saving me.

“I can’t talk right now, I’m working. Can-.”

“You stand Robbie and me up the other day, and I have to hear from somebody else that you got engaged! I think that the least you can do, Rebecca, is to talk to your mother for a few goddamn minutes,” her retort finds the gap in the door I hadn’t been able to close ever since I saw that word on that test. That was when my world had gotten turned upside down, something I hadn’t been able to fix just yet. I realized that was even further away now when her words send my teeth down into my bottom lip, the taste of iron overpowering on my lips.

It had taken him so long to bring that name back, to drag it out of the closet and to dust it off, polishing it back up. Within seconds, she had broken it again, and I wished he could be there to fix it up. Because no, he was in court right now, I realized, and for the first time today, I told myself the truth about needing him. But he was angry with me, the one person I couldn’t stand being mad at me.

“You don’t get to call me that, or talk to me like that, I-,” my bravery is short-lived, but the blame isn’t dealt to me, it sits in her hands instead.

“No, Rebecca Ann Holte, you don’t get to talk to me, your mother, like that. You should be ashamed of yourself, I have wanted nothing more than to reconnect with my only daughter, and she can’t even return a message of mine,” her sigh is louder than mine, because that had always been the theme, hadn’t it? She always had been worse off than me, so I had no room to talk, she’d say. When she lost her job or my dad left her. It was always about her. “I hope to God you don’t become a mother one day, you are one of the rudest and ugliest people I know, so I can’t imagine how your kids would turn out. I mean it, you have one of the ugliest hearts, Rebecca. I can’t believe you’re my daughter. I have tried how many times with you to fix things, and you never give me the chance.”

That smell came, the one that fills you when the wetness floods your eyes. I smell them, painting my palm, most likely ruining my lazy attempt at makeup today. I thought I had felt empty before, but it shrinks in comparison to the hollowness that swims throughout me.

Climbing my throat, the arguments and refusals neared, despite not knowing if I believed them. I wish I did as I spoke them, “No, I will be a good mum one day, even if I never had one myself, because I would never treat my children the way you have always treated me, Kate. I don’t care anymore what you think of me, or my heart, because you speak from an ugly one yourself. I have never wanted to fix things with you, because you never change, can’t you see that?” they’re picking apart my voice now, weighing on close to every word, but I know I have a few more until they consume me all entirely. “You are not my mother, and I don’t want to ever see you again or speak to you for as long as I live. I don’t know how many times I’ve tried to tell you that and you don’t get it. This is the last time you ever will, because if you contact me again, or God forbid, my fiance, I promise that you will regret it because I’m a fucking lawyer and my soon to be husband is one as well, not to mention one of the most powerful ones in Britain. And my name is Rebecca Styles.”

It echoes, the clank of the phone hitting the holder after I slammed it down, ending the call. I don’t hear it for long, because the floodgates have opened, again. My lungs burn from lack of air, something I can’t seem to find as my entire body seizes with a sob, one word repeating over and over in my head. Lies. Lies. Lies. Ones that I tell myself, because I can’t help but believe her. Am I really sure that I could ever be a good mum? Then another starts, a new word incessantly filling my head.

“Harry.”

It was the furthest from okay, continuing with how I couldn’t stop throwing up, quite literally, and the way it made Harry sick himself with worry. Consequently, this could only lead to one thing, and that was me losing my patience, or lack thereof with him despite his good intentions.

“I think ya need t’ go and see yer doctor ‘bout this.”

“I don’t, Harry, morning sickness is normal,” I insist, plucking a K-Cup from the drawer. Suddenly, I remember and shove it back into the box, for the third time today. The jury was still out on whether or not to drink coffee while pregnant. More importantly, whether Daddy Harry who was doing all of the research and therefore breathing over my shoulder was okay with it. Not that I could keep it down, anyways, which was the ultimate winner. It still hadn’t gotten any easier, trying to figure out this new life of mine, and it was only Day 4 of it. I had wondered, time and time again just how long they had already been with us and we just didn’t know it.

“Ya, but this isn’t, Becks, and I think y’know it.”

“It’s fine, Harry. I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” shoving a mug onto the little stand, I avoid his gaze whilst watching the hot water spurt out of the machine.

“Ya never wanna talk ‘bout it when I bring it up lately. Not when we were at tha shops yest’day and I suggested lookin’ at baby clothes. Not when I asked ya when we should tell our families.” I don’t know how to respond, and so I play my favorite card, just like I’ve been doing lately. It’s called the Silence card, and Harry really hated that one, even more than the Only Nodding one. “You’ve hardly been able t’ keep any food down, love. Yer livin’ on crackers and ginger tea, that can’t be good fer you and tha baby.”

I didn’t mean to, but I still blinked hard when he said it, as if I needed a reminder it was there. A baby growing inside of me, the reason for all of this. Our baby.

“I’m fine, Harry.”

“I thought we were done lyin’ t’ each other, Becks. We’re gettin’ married soon, and now, we’re . . we’re startin’ a family,” he wasn’t a lawyer for no reason, and sometimes, I hated it. He used it to his advantage, his way with words and snappy comebacks. He knew where to hit and his aim was always spot on, but I didn’t like how he used it with me, too.

He was right, I wasn’t fine. I couldn’t be in the kitchen while he cooked without running to the loo to relieve myself. If I’m honest, I was getting sick of my diet of ginger ale and soda crackers. It was a party when some chicken broth or a bite of a banana would stay down, even though they never sounded good to me. Nothing did, not even the churros from Pedro’s, or our favorite muffin. Believe me, Harry had tried. It had grown old quickly how he had come to watch me eat, arguing with me to take just one more bite or another spoonful, even though we both knew that I would throw it up later.

It wasn’t just that. I was so exhausted, which I figured was mostly due to the lack of food thing. The only thing I was good at lately was sleeping. I could hardly stay awake past 7:30 pm anymore, and negotiated every extra minute of sleep in the morning that I could from Harry. Well, that was until I woke up at the ass crack of dawn to hang out with the toilet, again. Plus, my boobs hurt something fierce and Harry found out when he went to play with them the other day. Let’s just say, he’s not going to try that again after I almost bit his head off. Whoops.

“I am fine, and I don’t need to go and see a doctor, Harry. Let’s just give it a few more days, okay?” I sigh at last, removing the steaming mug from underneath the spout. Gulping, I dip the tea bag into the water, watching how spots of the water grow dark in places from it.

“Fine,” he retorts, leaving his spot beside me, slamming the door to the break room behind him.

Despite watching him do it, I jump in place. Forgetting the tea, it was too hot anyways, I follow him after a few moments. Doing my best to avoid prying eyes, I take a different way to his office, hoping I can try to calm down during the extra time. Arriving at his door, I found it was a blunder all entirely, because I can’t hold back the next words once I step into his office.

“Why are you being like this?”

“Why am I?” Harry spits back from behind his desk, lifting his head to look at me. He was wearing one of my favorite outfits of his today, the brown cheetah print shirt and tight black slacks, but it didn’t do anything to help our predicament. “Why are you, Becks? Huh? This ‘s s’posed t’ be tha happiest time o’ our lives, and yer bein’ like this.”

There it is again, his way with words, the stabbing ones. My sights on him falters, eyes falling to the floor before I look back to him. “How am I being then?”

“Yer bein’ selfish,” he almost shouts, but he doesn’t need to. He’s never had to, because he can achieve all of the disdain and hurt without the added volume. “We’re having a baby, Becks, we’ve always spoken ‘bout wantin’ kids. Now, we are, and yer actin’ like . . like you don’t want our baby.”

“I never said that,” my voice is quiet, and unconvincing. The both of us know it, despite my half-lie. The one I had been so afraid for him to find out, and suddenly, I feel sick all over again.

“You didn’t need t’, I know it,” it works for him, the soft voice. You’d think that tone would be reserved for gentleness, but no, it’s not. I hate that about him, how he can turn like a whip, but can’t we all? “And God, Becks, ya won’t shut up ‘bout tha wedding. Why can’t we jus’ have a bloody civil ceremony first? Tha whole thing ‘s t’ get married - exchange vows and become husband and wife. We don’t need all tha fancy dresses, food, and a party at first. It can wait, Becks, until after tha baby ‘s here. Or we can whip up somethin’ t’ have this Winter . . but yer already shakin’ yer head ‘cos you hate that idea. Fuck, can I do anythin’ right fer you lately?”

“Harry,” I begin in a tone leaking with an apology that I don’t know how to say. “I’m going through a lot right now.”

“I know, love, we both are. Our lives have changed already in tha last few days ‘cos o’ this, but ‘s jus’ a wedding, Becks. I wanna marry you, but right now I don’t care ‘bout a cake, tuxes, and what fuckin’ song we walk down tha aisle t.’ All I care ‘bout right now is tha fact we’re havin’ a baby and ‘m so excited . . . but I wish you were too. They’re gonna be here in nine months whether we like it or not, and I think you need t’ learn how to like it. I jus’-,” he cuts himself off with a hand pressed to his mouth, cutting eye contact.

“What? You were going to say something else,” I continue, but he won’t, refusing to with a shake of his head. “Say it, Harry.”

“I jus’ can’t believe you, yer like a completely different person since we found out ‘bout tha baby.”

“I’m a different person, huh? I take it you mean that in a bad way, am I right?” I don’t know where it comes from, but bravery finds me, and the words come spilling out. “I just found out that I’m pregnant, Harry, that I’m growing a human being inside of me. I have to share my body, and make sure that I’m making the right choices every second. I have to protect it, feed it, get enough sleep, take the right vitamins, eat the right foods, and try not to be too stressed out. But, hey, I already messed up on that one. I didn’t ask for this and I’m scared, so yeah, maybe I’m a different person. You know what? So are you, and I don’t like it. I’m trying my best, and I hate how it’s never enough for you, this new you . . Forget about going out to dinner tonight, I don’t want to be around you right now, you’re- ugh, you’re so overwhelming, Harry.”

It was a question I couldn’t answer - whether I had been honest with myself lately, or lied to myself more than ever before. It was clear as day and I couldn’t lie about this one, the look on his face when I blinked and saw it all register with him.

“Fine. Forgive me fer fuckin’ carin’ ‘bout you and our unborn baby, Becks. ‘m rather sick o’ bein’ ‘round you too when yer like this, so go and have a good night. Lemme know when yer done bein’ selfish, and when yer ready t’ be a family t’gether. I have t’ go t’ court now,” if there were words of Harry’s that I’d always remember, somehow these had become some of them. They rang in my ears long after he had stormed out of his office, and I had escaped to mine with tears already staining my cheeks.

What in the fuck have I done now?

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unsaidholland · 4 years

Text

vintage, but feels brand new

reposted this bc the tags weren’t working!

i am finally getting this out omg! this is inspired by the bridge in come back home by arkells (great song, one of my favourites!)

warnings: the use of no-no words

being married to your best friend was one of the greatest things that you’ve ever experienced. after only being married for two and a half years, you had a little girl named bryana astrid holland. she had your complexion, eyes, and nose, but harry’s hair and lips. she was the most adorable curly, copper headed baby to ever grace your life, harry of course was a close second. now, at three years old she was one of the biggest blessings in yours and harry’s life.

the honeymoon phase never really ended completely for the two of you, but it was slowly dying out. the buzz of being newlyweds had ended, but the love you had for each other never ended. how could it? he was everything you could’ve ever dreamt of in a husband. he also was amazing with your daughter, which you loved about him. the soft harry that came out around bry was one of your favourites, sarcastic harry was a close second. you often found the two of them cuddled up on the couch together when it was nap time, and when you guys went out, her favourite place was on top of harry’s shoulders. he would do anything for his girls, and that’s one of the things you discovered about him after you guys got married. you always knew he was selfless and extremely dedicated to everything, but it took a different form when it came to your family.

as you were in the kitchen preparing dinner for the three of you, the tv was playing a show that bry loved. the sound of her giggles and her singing along with the songs filled the room. a smile appeared on your face as you continued to saute the vegetables.

harry said he would be home in time for dinner, but he had been filming his newest short film and you had a bit of a hunch that he wouldn’t be home for dinner. recently there weren’t family dinners. just you, bry, and an empty spot where harry should have been. it hurt, but you knew he was working hard. the perfectionist in him always made filming meticulous, but it was his passion. everyone understood that whenever harry was working, nothing was ever short of perfect. however, it was starting to take a toll on you.

you missed going to bed with him, not him crawling into bed when you’re already half asleep. you missed having dinner with him, not watching him have dinner when you were winding down for the night. you missed him being around to play with bry, not her asking when he was going to come home. you just missed him being there.

as you were about to finish cooking, your phone went off.

hi love, sorry i can’t make it for dinner. we’re redoing a few shots, they didn’t turn out the way they should have the first few times around. i’ll try not to be home late, i love you!

you were excited that he was supposed to be home for dinner, but a part of you knew that this text was going to come sometime later in the night. you texted back a simple, okay h, we’ll see you when you get home :) don’t overwork yourself, i love you. you wanted him to be home, but you couldn’t change his work, so you decided to push the sadness aside and enjoy the time you were going to spend with your daughter.

“bry! time for dinner bubba,” you called out into the living room. you put the food out on the table after setting it for the two of you. the sounds of her small, chubby feet hitting the hardwood floors was enough to make you feel better in an instant, but you knew that it would only be a temporary fix.

“where’s daddy? he workin’?” bry asked as she entered the room. your face softened at the slight disappointment on her face.

“it’s just you and me for dinner tonight bubba, i’m sorry.” bry’s face fell. she missed harry, you knew that, but there wasn’t anything you could do to make him come home instantly. “come on, let’s eat, yeah?” she nodded in agreement, climbing into her chair. you felt terrible for her being so let down that harry wasn’t at dinner, but you tried your best to make it up to her. “how about this, let’s eat dinner in the living room and watch a movie. what do you wanna watch?” her face lit up at the sudden change in dinner plans. for the past few days, dinners have been spent at the table with just the two of you, but the introduction of a movie and the subtraction of the kitchen somehow made it more exciting for the curly haired girl.

“mmmm, i wanna watch toothless!” the disappointment left her voice as she thought of the night fury.

“okay bubba! let’s get our food first, and then we can put on the movie, okay?” she carefully grabbed her plate from the table, and waddled over to the living room, putting her plate down on the coffee table and sitting down on the rug that lay below it. you followed in her steps, putting how to train your dragon on the tv, and sitting down beside her. “can i have a hug baby?” she gave you a hug, and you said a quiet “i love you” to her, one she didn’t hear over her own excitement.

as the movie finished, bry was already asleep, so you carried her to her room, laying her down in her bed. you placed a soft kiss on her forehead after tucking her in, closing the door behind you as you left the room. you went back to the living room to clean up the dishes the two of you left behind, and to pack up the leftover food that was sitting on the dining table.

the time your phone screen read 9:23 pm, dinner was about three hours ago and harry still wasn’t home. you decided to begin unwinding for the night, heading to your bathroom to begin your skincare routine, then heading to your bedroom to put on a pair of shorts and one of harry’s t-shirts. a part of you wanted to lay in bed and put on a show before going to bed, but another part of you wanted to wait in the living room for harry to come home. deciding on the latter, you walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water, then heading into the living room. you decided to watch the good place while waiting for your husband to get home from work. even though the show was on, your mind couldn’t help but focus on where he was.

•••

harry walked into the house quietly. it was 11:13 pm, but he didn’t intentionally come home that late. they just needed to get the perfect shot. he swore it was only going to take another hour or so, not five. he saw you sleeping on the couch, the glow of the tv being the main source of light filling the room. he walked over to you, squatted down, and placed a kiss on your forehead, causing you to stir. he waited for you to go back to sleep, but that never came. you opened your eyes and groggily you said, “harry?”

“i’m here now love, i’m sorry i’m late,” harry’s apologetic tone was obvious, but it didn’t make up for the fact that his daughter was extremely let down that he didn’t go through with dinner plans that you both had made. you were upset, truthfully you were beyond upset, but you knew you were only upset because you missed him. you sat up, letting him sit on the couch beside you. you were turned so you were facing him. his jacket still on, but unzipped, hat abandoned somewhere.

“did you get the shot you wanted?” your five years of marriage plus the three and a half years of dating prior to getting married made you able to read him like a book. he wanted to tell you about work today and pretend everything was okay, but you weren’t okay. harry, too blinded by his own excitement, proceeded to tell you about the shot and how perfect it had turned out. he went on about how nathan his cameraman kept messing up and going too fast at times and too slow at others. he talked about how the actors’ chemistry was too much at times, which wouldn’t make sense when you watched it back given the storyline. he talked about everything that happened that day. you watched as his eyes lit up, and how his body language immediately changed.

he realized near the end of his story that something was wrong. you weren’t as excited as you usually were. “darling, what’s on your mind?” he asked. he searched your eyes for an answer, but they were filled with an odd mix of pride, anger, and disappointment.

“you weren’t at dinner tonight.” the single statement was enough for him to start piecing everything together, but before he could open his mouth to let an apology roll out, you continued. “bry was really disappointed you know. she really misses having you around. i know that this is your job and your passion, but h we’re your family. we need to spend time with you too.” you looked down at your hands and started fiddling with the wedding ring that sat on your ring finger. “i really, really miss you h.”

“is that what this is about? that i wasn’t at dinner?” he asks. when you look up at him, all you see is his face twisted in confusion. “don’t you want me to work?” you scoff. he’s clearly not getting it, you think. as your eyes roll in annoyance, harry begins to see red. “what now, i don’t fucking get it.”

“yeah, clearly.” the sarcastic remark burned on your tongue as you spit it out. having enough of this, you get up and walk to your shared room but not before saying, “your dinners on the island, just reheat it.”

soon enough you found yourself alone in the king-sized bed. the white duvet was pulled up over your legs, the end of it sitting above your waistline. your laptop sat on top of your thighs as you aimlessly scrolled through pinterest. your mind wasn’t focused on the aesthetically pleasing photos, but rather on how harry couldn’t understand that his family missed and needed him. as what felt like hours passed, harry finally entered your room. he closed the door behind him and went straight to his closet to grab a pair of sweatpants for him to sleep in. as he was getting undressed, the silence filled the room, being louder than it should have been.

harry sat on his side of the bed, pulling the covers up and over his legs, then beginning to read a book that was left on his nightstand. his brown eyes gazed over the pages. like you, his mind wasn’t focused on the words that were on the page, but rather the ones that left your lips. how could she say something like that? she knows my work is important to me, he thought.

“how could i say something like that? harry, you haven’t even been home for dinner for the past week! you haven’t been here to put our child to bed, who by the way, always asks me when you’re gonna spend time with her. i know your work is important to me, and i’m not saying it shouldn’t matter, but i’m saying you need to learn how to give yourself to us and work at the same time.” you said, shutting the laptop. his thoughts weren’t supposed to leave his head, but now they were out in the open. you both were grateful that he had broken the silence, even if he didn’t realize that he had.

“are you kidding me? who the fuck do you think is putting the food on the table? you’re still on maternity leave and we know damn well that money covers all the bills so don’t even try to act like you’re doing more than me.” you were looking at him, and he was turned so he was facing you. “whenever i’m around i give all my time to you and to bry, so why are you even complaining?” he let out a scoff, one that infuriated you more than you already were. you turned so you were facing him, but moved back towards the foot of the bed so you weren’t right next to him.

“i honestly can’t believe that when i say your fucking daughter misses you all you retaliate with is how much money you make.” you got up, grabbing your phone and a book. “i’m sleeping in the guest room because you’re acting like a child right now.” harry stood up and met you as you walked around the bed towards the door.

“don’t just leave when we’re actually talking about this, what the fuck!” he exclaimed. his volume was rising unintentionally, but he was still sure to try and not wake bryana who was sleeping in her room down the hall. you tossed your stuff gently onto the bed.

“fine, you want to talk? let’s talk then. you leave every day at 8:30 am, bry wakes up at 7. you spend about an hour and a half with her, then leave and don’t even come back until it’s around eleven pm. this happens every fucking day harry. i bring her to school every morning and all she asks me is, ‘is daddy gonna be home for dinner today?’ and all i can say to her is i hope so. don’t act like we don’t appreciate what you’re doing for us.” you’re looking at him in the eyes now and all you can see is anger. harry is filled with rage, but what you don’t see is that he is determined to win this argument.

you continued anyways, “do you enjoy having dinner alone when your wife and kid are upstairs sleeping? ‘cause we sure as hell don’t like having dinner with your seat empty. and i-” harry was quick to cut you off.

“literally just shut the fuck up for thirty seconds and let me speak.” you were shocked. not once has a fight between the two of you escalated this far or gotten this heated. “i fucking work hard for our family and however many kids we’re going to have, okay? i’m sorry i’m not always around when i’m working, but you knew when you married me that i give my all to whatever project i’m working on.” he stopped to rub his face with his hand. tears were welling up in your y/e/c eyes, but that didn’t stop either of you from continuing. “i love you and i love our family, but i have a job and a career that makes me have long workdays at times and not have worked at all other days. you just have to accept that.”

harry’s tone softened when he saw you fighting back tears, though he wasn’t going to give in. but then you choked back a sob, and he immediately let his defence fall. he pulled you into his bare chest, wrapping his arms around you. as much as you wanted to refuse his touch, you couldn’t. the bedroom was only lit by the lamps that sat on each nightstand and the moonlight, and as the two of you stood there you wondered how you were so lucky to be with harry. yes, you were still technically in the middle of a fight, but somehow you both felt as if there was some common understanding that was reached as soon as the tears fell.

“you know i never meant to attack you like that?” you asked. “i just want you to spend more time with us when you can,” you said, feeling guilty about all the words you said to him. they weren’t particularly nasty perse, they just came out too hostile. “i’m really sorry baby.” you looked up into his brown eyes to see him staring back at you. the anger that once clouded them was replaced with soft love, that’s all he felt when he saw you.

“i’m sorry too bub. i swear i’ll be home for dinner tomorrow night. don’t tell bry, i wanna surprise her.” after planting a soft kiss to the top of your y/h/c hair, his hands went up under your shirt to rest on your waist, wanting to be closer to you. nothing was fully resolved just yet, but at least the two of you could go to bed that night without being angry with each other.

the next morning, you had woken up to an empty bed. the sun had already risen, and as you looked at the clock that sat on the wall opposite to your bed, you saw that it was past seven am. you had woken up late. you immediately checked your phone, already freaking out about your alarm not going off. you didn’t have time to prepare lunches and breakfast for everyone if you wanted to have a morning shower, nor did you have the time for yourself that you reserved every morning when you did your morning skincare just a little bit slower than you should have.

as you were about to get out of bed, the door opened to reveal harry and bryana. harry was holding a wooden tray, breakfast sat on top of it with either a cup of tea for both you and harry.

“what’s this?” you ask, confused as to what you did to deserve this. it was a normal saturday, there wasn’t any special occasions coming up, and it wasn’t like you and harry were yelling at each other less than twelve hours prior.

“it’s breakfast in bed mumma! we’re having breakfast in your bed!” you knew the confusion was painted onto your face, but as you looked at your husband a soft smile appeared on your face.

“well come on then! get over here you two,” you said as your arms opened up for bry to come cuddle you. she ran and hopped up onto the bed, harry following behind her, careful not to spill anything. he placed the tray down in the middle of the bed, it had three plates on it, all of them had scrambled eggs, a piece of buttered toast cut on the diagonal, and some strawberries and blueberries on the side. he sat down beside you and leaned in to give you a kiss. you met him halfway despite your morning breath. “before we eat, i’m gonna go brush my teeth okay?” you asked bry, and she nodded in agreement, already munching down on her toast.

you came back from the bathroom to see bry starting to eat some scrambled eggs, half of her toast was gone. harry was putting his tea down on a coaster that sat on the wooden nightstand on his side of the bed. you sat down in between him and bry, on your side of the bed, and took a sip of the tea that he made you. bry had a cup of orange juice that sat on the tray that she reached for.

once bryana was done with her breakfast, she ran off to her room to play with her toys and to get dressed for the day leaving you and harry alone. you and harry had taken photos of the breakfast arrangement prior to her leaving, but you still wished she had stayed. there wasn’t much left for the three year old to do but go and play.

“thank you for this.” a smile appeared on both of your faces, ones that harry wanted to savour and remember forever, so he took his phone out and took a selfie of the both of you.

“anything for you, my love.” he didn’t need to say more for you both to know that this was an apology breakfast, a breakfast that told you he was going to try and divide himself up more whenever he was working on a project.

the almost half an hour that the two of you spent together before getting ready to fully start the day made the butterflies stronger. the love that you had for each other only seemed to grow if that was even possible. though the marriage was a little bit vintage, it still felt brand new.

#harry holland #harry holland fic #harry holland one shot #harry holland imagine #harry holland x you #harry holland x reader #harry holland x y/n #harry holland fluff #harry holland angst

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op-peccatori · 4 years

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If My Heart Was a House (M) | IkeVamp Vincent

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Vincent van Gogh/Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+/NSFW

Summary: Vincent has discovered a new way to bond for the two of you, as excited parents to be. It involves a lot of paint and a lot of adoration.

Word Count: 2208

a/n: This may contain themes and elements you might be uncomfortable with, so please read the tags carefully! (it should be safe to use non-toxic, water based pigments for belly painting, even better if it’s FDA approved body paint, but please consult a doctor if you ever want to try it)

Another experiment in writing. Let me know what you think! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧Title taken from the song by Owl City!

Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content, pregnancy, pregnancy sex, vaginal sex, oral sex, might be ooc because I haven’t done Vincent’s route!

With a comforting heat emanating from the hearth, and the curtains drawn tight over the windows, it almost feels like you’re hidden away from the outside world. It always does, when you’re in here with him.

You’re lounging on the sofa, back pressed against two ridiculously fluffy pillows, cheek smushed against one palm. The sash of your wrap-dress is undone, both sides pushed away from your front, baring your skin to your husband’s focused gaze.

Soft bristles dip into more paint, silver this time, before they meet soft skin. You had just awoken from your nap, unable to pinpoint when you had fallen asleep, to see Vincent smiling up at you, still sweeping his paintbrush across your skin. He’s positioned between your legs on his stool, palette in hand, sans shirt with his paint-splattered apron tied around his torso and loose trousers hanging low on his hips.

“Nearly done, mijn schatje,” he murmurs, flaxen bangs mussed from your hands and his own creating the visual of a wild, darling angel. Your eyes are drawn to the jut of his collarbone, to his well-toned arms. There’s a smudge of blue paint on his cheek, and above his left brow.

You hum and close your eyes, sighing softly at the ticklish sensation you haven’t quite gotten used to, casting your thoughts out and away from the low, hypnotic buzzing in your skin.

“Take your time. It feels nice.” ‘A little too nice,’ you think, but keep that to yourself. The backs of his hands have brushed the underside of your breasts exactly nine times, and you might be going a little crazy here.

Skilful fingers, the paintbrush a medium for his magic, dot another cluster of stars onto midnight blue, concentrated around your belly button and spreading out into curlings tendrils. A galaxy depicted on a canvas that could only have come from the gods, and blessed is he who gets to be the one to fill it.

Sky blue eyes, bright with reverence, fixate on the curve of your rounding belly. His heart, swollen with love, throbs insistently. Vincent has been living life with a constant hum in his veins, and not just the hungry kind. No, this is a delirious sort of happiness, of sunshine between his ribs; being with you, watching new life grow within you. His wife. A creation he had a part in, so wondrous that it leaves him humbled and so grateful he could fall to your feet and weep.

He’s going to be a papa.

Vincent doesn’t quite know what to do with such strong emotions, ones that seem to remain at high tide so often.

A little over eighteen weeks and it still embarrasses you a little, at first, when he touches you with quivering fingers, wanting to explore all the way your body changes, softens and yet, strengthens. He has been there for every little thing, from holding your hair back while you heave in the bathroom, to prenatal visits and to helping you with chores. In the early mornings—now that the nausea has been abating—when the first few glimmers of sunlight spill through the windows and Vincent is blinking awake, smiling at the warmth of you in his arms, hand curled over your striped belly tenderly.

The force of his own ardor scares him, sometimes.

With love having forced the door open, others seem to have walked in along with it. There’s jealousy, and greed. Possessiveness, and an endless want. Vincent has always been protective of you, but lately, just having you out of his sight leaves him anxious. He hasn’t said a word about it, but he knows you’ve noticed. It’s for him to work on, and so he will.

It’s also a bit thrilling, to be so overwhelmed after being so...muted, in some ways. To have someone in his life who draws out the good and the bad. He revels in the constant waves of emotions because he has you to share them with.

He catches your eyes on him before you close them again, the curve of your mouth tensing, your free hand curling into itself. Head tilting slightly, he sets his brush and palette down on the floor, reaching for a washcloth as you shift slightly, feigning a doze.

Vincent cleans his hands, watching the minute movements of your eyes beneath their lids, the goosebumps on your skin.

Slender fingers settle on your knees; you don’t open your eyes, but he catches the way your breath quickens.

‘Ah.’

A smile teases at the corner of his mouth.

“I know you’re awake,” Vincent says softly, palms flittering over your thighs. The air between you two changes; it’s like flipping a switch. Lips parting, you finally look at him and his pulse begins to race. There’s a request in your eyes, a need, and something primal within him rises to answer it at once.

He’s leaning over you within seconds, your hands in his hair, his own cradling your head as he presses his lips to yours. He’s careful, but you won’t have any of that, sweeping your tongue into his mouth demandingly as you shed any pretence of sleep.

“I tried to be patient.” Your smile is sheepish as your hands settle on his shoulders before sliding down his broad back, the tip of your tongue running over the stud in his ear, then the cuff, teasing and testing. It makes him shiver, makes his gums ache, and he clamps down on his self-control.

“I know, darling,” he assures you, kissing both corners of your mouth before he slides off your body, sinking to his knees. Undoing the ties of your underwear, he clicks his tongue softly. “But you were supposed to tell me if you needed something.”

“It was fine! I knew I could wait,” you mumble, picking at stray threads of the sofa.

“Mhm, this doesn’t look fine to me. I’ve neglected you. Allow me to acquit myself?” An entreaty. A delicate trail of kisses up your inner thigh. He inhales deeply, your heady scent going straight to his groin, the groan he lets out making you squirm.

“...You don’t have to make up for anything.” Mouth pursed, brows furrowed—you look adorable. His patience is endless and his affection for you is etched in every inch of his being. It allows him to read every move you make, makes him smile at the very thought of your fussing; the unmistakable desire in your expression, though, leaves his pants feeling a tad bit tighter. He has, after all, made it his mission to understand not just your mind but your body as well.

“Alright. Then, will you let me take care of you?” Vincent beseeches you, and you don’t possess the power to resist that, not when you’ve been thinking about this for hours.

With your nod, hands curl around the backs of your thighs. He hoists them over his shoulders and dives in with fervour, the immediate taste of your arousal rich on his tongue. His mind nearly melts at the way you keen, writhing under the clever ministrations of his mouth; his nose presses into your tiny bundle of nerves, his fingers slide in with ease. The cry of his name echoes in the room, punctuated by the loud, slurping sounds coming from between your legs.

He feels a little lightheaded, drunk off your taste alone, and fights to keep his fangs retracted.

Vincent will never get enough of you coming undone on his tongue, your thighs trembling with the aftershocks as you suck in quick, shallow breaths. He revels in the sight of you drenched, your body lax, watching him, silently asking him—we’re not done, are we? It thrills him to know you’re just as eager for him, as he is to lose himself in your warmth. That he isn’t alone in this insatiable longing, this constant craving for closeness.

He struggles a little with the tie of his apron, his mind focused on your face as he licks at the wetness coating his mouth. You reach for him and he meets you with a toe-curling kiss, throwing his apron to the side, smiling at the slide of your palm from his chest to the waistband of his pants.

“Are you sure, ___?” he asks, tucking your hair behind your ears, cradling your cheeks, studying your expression worriedly as if expecting you to throw him off, or for your unborn child to interrupt with a fluttering kick.

“Vincent,” you begin, admittedly huffy and more than ready for him. “I don’t think you realize how stimulating body painting can be. I’m losing my mind here. Just a little.”

“Perhaps we can try it the other way around next time.” You would have to take the time to think about that once you’re a little less occupied. His musing is cut short when you tug at his waistband, eyes slanted pleadingly as if begging for a treat. “Oh, sorry! Okay sweetheart, how do you want to do it?”

You take a moment to gauge the state of your body as he slides his pants off, kicking them to the floor before sliding your robe the rest of the way off. And then you push him onto his back, him going down a willing devotee, climbing onto him carefully, mouth quirked up with a sly grin.

“Perfect,” he breathes, smiling broadly. Unbeknownst to him, it still flusters you a little. It’s a warm sunny day wrapped up in plush lips and a devastating dimple, and it’s lethal to your heart. And hormones. “Here, careful!”

With a steady grip on your hips, Vincent helps you sink onto his length slowly. You look at him, eyes half-lidded, watching the way the thick vein on his neck tenses, his fingers digging into your soft skin before he relaxes them with visible effort, pale lashes fluttering as he gasps at the feeling of your heat engulfing him.

With a languid roll of your hips, your head tipping back, you set a steady pace. His length is heavy and straining in you, his abdomen taut. He begins to thrust into you, dragging short, ragged moans from you with each slow slide.

‘Gentle. Gentle. Gentle,’ he reminds himself over and over again. He palms a breast, thumb running over a pebbled nipple, tugging at it lightly, gritting his teeth at the low, pained sound it rips from you—the way it makes your walls flutter around him. Your steady rhythm falters, your hips coming down harder and Vincent does not feel in control. You do that to him. It’s an inebriating rush, a heat in his belly, beckoning to parts of him hidden even from him.

“It’s okay,” you gasp, palms splayed across his abdomen. “It’s okay, please, I just need—harder. Please.”

The sound that leaves him is a cross between a groan and a cry, as he loosens the reins and thrusts deeper, spurred on by your loud moans. You look otherworldly, with your hair a wild mess and your eyes so dark he could feel them dragging him in. The clusters of stars, blue and pink and silver, a tiny part of the universe on your skin, made full by him. He hadn’t quite anticipated the effect it would have on him, that it would rob him of coherence and control.

Your hand slides down his navel, running up his skin and coarse blond curls until it meets your flesh and rubs quick, tight circles. He holds on to you as your sex convulses around him, clutching him tight as you come hard, jaw slack.

Even in a daze, you protest softly when he pulls you off him, pulling you down to rest next to him on the sofa. He curls around your back, one arm cushioning your head while the other hikes your leg up, entering you smoothly once more.

Your shoulders relax, back arching as he thrusts swiftly, a few solid strokes and then spills himself within you, his breath warm against the damp skin of your nape. You lie boneless, mind made mush, until he stirs and props himself up on an elbow.

“Are you okay, ___?”

You turn slightly, indolent, to see him peering down at you in concern. Furrowed brows smoothen when you reach up to swipe damp bangs away from his forehead, the lines of his face relaxing once more. A chaste kiss and you share a small smile as he nuzzles your cheek.

“I’m...perfect. You?”

His hand comes to rest on your rounded abdomen, caressing the painted skin tenderly. “Me too. Are you hungry?”

You want to say no, but the knowing smile playing across his lips makes you sigh and nod instead. “A little, yes.”

“Good. Then let’s-”

The rest of his words are cut off by a loud knock at the door. You both turn to face the door in slight trepidation, an exasperated groan building in your throat.

“Broer! ___! I’ve brought you some water. And Sebastian says dinner’s ready. Are you two done painting?” There’s a short pause, and another—hesitant, perhaps—knock. “Broer?”

Well. Perhaps there is one other who is just as excited about this as the two of you.

#ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire vincent #ikevamp vincent #tw: pregnancy #ikevam #ikevam vincent #ikemen vampire fanfiction #is theo the first child in this relationship???#yes #yes he is #queue are my sunshine

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sequencefairy · 4 years

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Over at the @skepticbeliever-bookclub, we spend a lot of time talking about fic and reccing it to each other. As an extension of that, we thought it might be fun for whoever could to share recs with everyone else too! This fandom has some preternaturally talented writers, and we are all blessed to be able to read their words.

I’m specifically going to focus on some faves of mine that are ‘hidden gems’ - ie: fics that I think are underrated and deserve significantly more attention than they currently get.

Keep an eye out on the bookclub blog for other people’s rec posts and share your own as well!

And now, without further ado, recs under the cut. Standard warnings of check tags and ratings before you read apply! If you happen to give any of these a read, please leave them some love in the comments! <3

📖 collapse in threads by sky_somedays “Shane Madej, did you just use a basketball reference to tell me you want to be my superhero sidekick?”

Shane’s expression is long-suffering. “Jesus Christ. You got me. That’s the insidiousness of your influence."

📖 love and deep dish pizza by punk_rock_yuppie Ryan wants Shane to dress up as a pizza delivery guy. Don’t ask why, not even Ryan knows.

Or, alternatively titled, 'Hot Buff Young Man Wants a Slice of Lanky Pizza Delivery Boy.'

📖 this boy is a bottom by blacktofade It happens just after they file the incorporation papers for Watcher Entertainment, which makes it the second most irrational decision of Shane’s life.

📖 lookin’ for high, divine connection by loveontherocks "hello I see you’re 102 feet away and I have a proposition for you. I’m currently eating macaroni and cheese and I want something to drink but all I have in my apartment rn is orange soda left over from a Halloween party and I do not want to drink that. SO….if you go to 7/11 and get me a double gulp horchata and bring it to my apartment I’ll blow you"

or; shane goes to 7/11 and gets a blow job out of it.

📖 i got my swim trunks, and my flippie-floppies by elasticellla All the way back in January, Shane decided he wanted to spend his birthday on the high seas. Which, admittedly, Ryan thought he meant getting high in a canoe not actually sailing out into the ocean.

📖 ‘cause nothing can measure by angelsaves Every so often, Ryan just needs something to shut up his brain, okay? He just doesn't always make the best choices about it. Shane disapproves, and has a better idea.

📖 you’ll never know what hit you by callunavulgari "C’mon, ghost,” Shane urges. “Make all my dreams come true. Fuck me up, fam.”

All around them, the world is still.

Shane cracks an eye open and squints at him. “Did it work?”

📖 it’s no good unless it grows by allredpen “I mean, you’re the one who told Sean we’d be taking a nap together.”

God, his heart was hammering in his chest, and he ached to roll over, away from Shane’s scrutiny, away from that physical presence looming tall over his own bed.

Shane laughed softly, but he had inched forward, his knees bent and resting on the edge of the mattress.

“Did I?” He asked, leaning forward to place his palms on the mattress. “I guess I did. Would you believe me if I told you it was the pie madness talking?”

In which Shane leads a horse to water, but Ryan makes it drink.

📖 for you i’ll be poetic by miraclesofpaul AU. Ryan starts getting gifts from a secret admirer. Too bad he has a huge, hopeless crush on his coworker Shane, and there’s no way in hell that Shane likes him back.

📖 a rush at the beginning (i get caught up) by emptyswimmingpools They still act like best friends, but sometimes Ryan will hold his hand underneath the desk at work, sometimes Shane will gently press a kiss against Ryan’s cheek at the end of the day, sometimes the air around them changes and their eyes meet in a way that’s so stripped, so knowing and open, it’ll leave Shane’s knees weak and his head heavy.

They talk about ghosts. They talk about popcorn. They talk about anything and everything, but they don’t talk about - this. Them. The possibility - no, the certainty - that their relationship is shifting, transitioning.

📖 the kitchen sessions by makemadej How to make a business baby, starring the usual suspects.

📖 secrets i have held in my heart are harder to hide than i thought by drunkkenobi This was not how any of this was supposed to go. Shane was so sure that his intentions had been clear, if fueled by alcohol. But Ryan kept apologizing, like it was all one big regret. Like Shane regretted it.

He didn’t. He was confused, scared, and hungover, but regretful? Never. Not even now, with everything Shane had worked so hard for in danger of slipping through his fingers. Last night had been one of the best, most exhilarating, most profound nights of his life. He would never take it back. Not ever.

📖 yank by siegeofangels In which the bodycam harnesses get put to good use

#shyan #skeptic believer #skeptic believer bookclub #buzzfeed unclean #fic rec #read this one #shyan fic rec #i meant to do 15 but i need lunch so have 13 instead

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kmomof4 · 4 years

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State of Emergency: Code White

Here is the third and final part of my State of Emergency universe, originally inspired by the 1997 Tommy Lee Jones movie, Volcano. This picks up about six and a half months after State of Emergency: Future Glimpse, Part 2 of this series. All the love and thanks in the world to @profdanglaisstuff for her beta services, @thisonesatellite for sharing her earthquake knowledge with me, and @hollyethecurious for her listening ear and her assurance that this idea wasn't garbage. And last but certainly not least, @searchingwardrobes and @stahlop for their help in deciding on a title. I hope you enjoy this conclusion and let me know what you think! Read more link after the first scene, unless Tumblr ate it.

Tagging my peeps: @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @snowbellewells @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @jennjenn615 @kingofmyheart14 @profdanglaisstuff @branlovestowrite @thisonesatellite @ultraluckycatnd @flslp87 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @let-it-raines @shireness-says @kymbersmith-90 @darkcolinodonorgasm @bethacaciakay @searchingwardrobes @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @aprilqueen84 @qualitycoffeethings @superchocovian @artistic-writer @donteattheappleshook @doodlelolly0910 @seriouslyhooked @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda

Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

Ao3 link

Also muchos love and flails to @captainsjedi for her picset for this fic!!! It is so perfect, I can’t even!!!!

August 28, 2021

A squeal that was nearly loud enough to break the windows drew Emma’s attention away from where Killian was checking them into the Hotel Casa del Mar for Graham and Ruby’s wedding the next day. She turned just in time to hold out her arms before Ruby barrelled into her nearly nine months pregnant belly.

“Emma!” she exclaimed, “Look at you!” She grasped Emma’s shoulders and held her away from her, scrutinizing every part of her with an eye that only a best friend of many, many years could accomplish. Apparently satisfied with what she found, Ruby pulled her close and rubbed her tummy all while murmuring to her honorary niece or nephew.

“Hello there, my darling,” she cooed, “How is my little angel today? I hope you didn’t make the drive down too difficult for your mom. I can’t wait to meet you in just a few more weeks.” She ended her questioning monologue with a kiss to the top of her belly. If it had been anyone else, Emma would have introduced them to her fist long before now, but this was Ruby. Her best friend since junior high. Certain privileges came with that kind of longevity.

“I’m fine, too,” she laughed, “Thanks for asking, Ruby.” Ruby rose up laughing at her sarcasm and drawing her close again.

“Ohhh,” she breathed, “I’m so happy to see you! We cannot go three months without seeing each other ever again.”

Killian turned away from the counter with a wide grin before Ruby released Emma and greeted him with an enthusiastic hug as well. “You hear me, Jones?” she asked, pulling away, “Emma and I cannot go three months between seeing each other ever again.”

“Duly noted,” he replied. “Where’s Graham?”

Ruby turned away as her tall, sandy haired fianceé sauntered over to where the three of them still stood. The men greeted each other with a firm handshake before embracing.

“It’s good to see you, mate,” Killian greeted his best friend as Graham returned the sentiment. They moved away from the check in counter, toward the elevators finalizing plans for dinner in a couple of hours. Emma was happy to see everyone, but she was really looking forward to a nice long soak in the whirlpool tub in their room and maybe a nap beforehand. The ride down from Sacramento had been brutal. The whirlpool jets on the tight muscles in her lower back where the achiness had settled would feel like heaven. The normally about five and a half hour drive had taken them nearly nine, with her bladder demands every hour or so and needing to stretch her legs.

They all rode the elevator together, Ruby and Emma keeping their arms around each other the entire way. Finally making it to their rooms, the men had to nearly peel the ladies away from each other.

“Come on, Swan,” Killian cajoled, “that whirlpool tub is waiting.” He waggled his brows suggestively, earning him an eye roll.

“All right, fine,” she whined, releasing Ruby. Ruby immediately stepped into Graham's arms and they turned back toward their worn out friend.

“We’ll see you downstairs at 7:30,” she said. “That should give you enough time for a bath and rest for a little while. Have to make sure you’re taking care of my niece or nephew, ya know.”

Emma and Killian both grinned. “We’ll see you then.”

~*~*~

Emma entered the elevator and stretched her back with a grimace on her face and a soft exhale at the achiness there. Killian was by her side instantly, his hand rubbing circles into the small of her back.

“Are you alright, darling?” he asked. “Need another soak in the tub when we get back to the room tonight?”

Emma turned to him with a smile on her face at his concern. “Those jets felt wonderful. Another soak after dinner may be just what the doctor ordered. All those hours in the car, just…” she trailed away with another stretch and quiet groan. “I know you love that car, but we are NEVER traveling out of town in it again.”

The elevator doors opened and they stepped out to find Killian’s brother Liam and his girlfriend, Elsa already waiting. Liam was an Anglican priest and would be performing the ceremony the next day. Elsa, while not a bridesmaid, had been welcomed into the group when she and Liam had started dating last spring and so she was invited to enjoy all the festivities with the wedding party. They were still sharing hugs and greetings when Mary Margaret and David and then the bride and groom arrived.

They moved the party to one of the best seafood places in Santa Monica. Right on the water, it served steak and fresh out of the ocean seafood. It had been a favorite when she had lived here and she had informed Ruby that she was resigning as Matron of Honor if they didn’t eat there sometime over the weekend. She may not be able to eat any shellfish, but she could still have her filet mignon.

The evening was filled with good food, good drinks, laughter, and stories. Emma got to share the story about when she and Ruby had tried to fake-ID their way into a hot new club on the beach back when they were in high school. All Ruby’s idea, of course. But then, in retaliation, Ruby had to tell the story about the first time Emma got completely hammered, after their college graduation.

“Single mom, graduating summa cum laude,” she shrugged, with a smirk, “I was entitled.” Her smirk softened into a more genuine, grateful smile. “I couldn’t have done it without Ruby, David and M’s.”

“Damn right!” Ruby exclaimed, toasting Emma’s raised glass with her own. Laughter broke out from around the table and more toasts were raised to Emma’s success and to the happy couple. Finally, Graham stood.

“Who would have guessed that one of the greatest natural disasters that California has ever seen would lead me, lead us here.” He smiled down at Ruby, affectionately. “Killian and I have been friends for a decade. Ever since he hired me right out of college to work at the Geological Survey. When he was promoted, he brought me along with him to work as his assistant. And it was that position that led me to this beautiful, wonderful woman by my side this evening. The woman that I am so blessed to be marrying tomorrow.” He looked back down at his soon-to-be bride, as she fanned herself dramatically, trying to hide her blush. He leaned down and pulled Ruby’s chin up and captured her lips in a tender kiss as whoops and hollers from around the table were directed at the happy couple. He sat down and draped his arm around her shoulder as she snuggled into his side, red lips smiling widely.

Killian rose then. “I’ll keep this brief, since we still have the Dudes Day Lunch tomorrow,” he began, as loud guffaws broke out over the name. “Hey!” he exclaimed, “don’t laugh at me! It was old man Liam’s idea!” He pointed at his brother whose face flamed red at being outed for coming up with that ridiculous name. “Anyway, Graham fell for Ruby nearly as fast as I did for Emma. And I could not be happier for the both of you. But I have to say, mate, I made better use of my time.” More laughs came from the gathered friends as he waggled his eyebrows salaciously at his wife as he sat down.

“Well, you were on more of a time clock than I was, mate,” Graham reminded him. “Had to fit the wedding in once the Governor decided he wanted you in Sacramento.”

Killian nodded in agreement before drawing Emma into his side. He couldn’t help but rub his hand on her swollen belly before kissing her on the temple. Now that the speeches were over, the dinner party quickly wound down. They made their way back to the hotel and all went their separate ways, wishing each other a good night and reiterating the plans for the morning.

Emma came out of the bathroom over an hour later, hair and body scrubbed clean until it glowed in the low light of the lamps of the room.

“How’s your back, darling?” he asked, quietly, “Still aching?”

“Yes,” she yawned, climbing in the bed. “But I think that soak and more than an hour in this bed will go a long way to helping it feel better. I’m really looking forward to the massage in the morning. I’m sure I’ll be right as rain after that.” She snuggled as close as she could into his chest before looking up and drawing him into a kiss.

“Hmmmm,” he hummed against her lips. “I’m sure you will be too. Goodnight, Swan.”

She turned in his arms that tenderly cupped their unborn child. “Goodnight.”

~*~*~

Killian couldn’t stop the grin that spread his lips as he caught sight of the female portion of the bridal party exiting the elevators that brought them down from the spa on the top floor of the hotel. Emma was radiant, hair and makeup done to perfection and appearing to be even more relaxed than she had been when she left their room that morning. Apparently, a good night's sleep in a very comfortable bed plus a facial and pregnancy massage did wonders for his beloved wife’s countenance.

“Swan,” he called, approaching her as the party made their way toward the hotel restaurant. She turned toward him with the most beautiful smile on her face, she nearly took his breath away.

“Hi,” she replied, meeting him halfway and turning her face up to his for his kiss.

“How was the spa, darling?” he asked, rubbing circles into the small of her back. “How does your back feel?”

“Amazing,” she gushed, “Rose was my therapist and I nearly fell asleep under her fingers. I have had a couple of twinges since the massage, but nothing like yesterday on the way down.”

“Good,” he replied, “I’m glad to hear it. We’ll be at the oyster bar if you need me,” he said, pointing across the lobby. The smile she graced him with was full of happiness. He leaned down and brushed her lips with his own again. “I’ll see you after lunch.”

She hummed as he let her go. Emma couldn’t hide her appreciative smirk as she watched her husband saunter away before she caught up with the other ladies at the matré d’s podium. “Bridal luncheon for four under the name Jones,” she informed the man.

“Right this way, ladies.”

He led them across the gleaming marble floor toward a beautifully appointed table only a few feet in front of the floor to ceiling windows that looked out on the beach where Ruby and Graham would be exchanging their vows in about six hours. The ladies oooo-ed and ahhh-ed over the view and the richness of their surroundings. Settling themselves in their chairs, their server appeared pouring water in their glasses and taking their drink orders before disappearing again.

“Ruby,” breathed Mary Margaret, “this is absolutely beautiful!”

“I know!” their friend agreed. “Isn’t it? They had a picture of the restaurant on the website and when I saw it, I knew this is where I wanted everything to be.” Ruby sighed, happily. “I’ve always dreamt of a sunset wedding on the beach.” From where they sat, they could see the area where the wedding coordinator and her crew were already hard at work getting ready for the nuptials that evening.

“Don’t I know it.” Emma rolled her eyes, good naturedly. “I’ve been listening to it for years.” She drew her best friend into a side hug as the other ladies looked on, wide smiles on their faces. “And I couldn’t be happier for you both.”

Their server returned with their drinks and took their orders for lunch. Once he withdrew, Elsa raised her glass to the bride. “I know that I’m not as close with all you ladies as you are to each other, but I’d be remiss if I neglected to tell you all thank you first for including me in your festivities and second for welcoming me into your group with such open arms. I know that Liam is so thrilled and honored to be joining you and Graham in marriage this evening, Ruby, and we both wish you every happiness and blessing in your union.”

Tears glistened in Ruby’s eyes as she rose from her place at the table and came around to gather Elsa into a warm hug. “Thank you, Elsa,” she choked out. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to finally be marrying Graham. And having you here to celebrate with us makes it that much better. There are truly no words for how happy it makes me to see Liam so happy. How happy you’ve made him.” Elsa’s lovely face flushed at Ruby’s words. “When I met Killian, he, and then Liam, joined David as the brothers I’d never had. So it does my heart good that you’ve found each other.” Ruby let go and returned to her seat just as their lunches arrived.

~*~*~

“Hear, hear!” The four men raised their pints and toasted Graham’s happiness after Liam had spoken a few words that if the ladies had heard, would have earned them all eye rolls and playfully indignant slaps at the raunchiness of the teasing. Well, except maybe Graham. Ruby would have been just as likely to laugh and raise her glass with the rest of them.

After taking a sip, Killian rose from his seat. “As Best Man, and the reason that Graham met Ruby in the first place, I have a few words to say.” The laughter among the men died down as they all fixed their attention on him. “Graham, words cannot express how happy I am for you that this day has finally arrived. I knew the moment I entered the control center two and a half years ago that there was something different about you, and when you smiled at Ruby I could immediately see what it was.” Graham’s face broke into a soft smile as his eyes took on the dreamy quality of pleasant memories. “There’s nothing like a disaster of epic proportions to drive people together. You were smitten with Ruby that very first day. It has been a joy and privilege to watch you fall in love with the wonderful woman that you will make your wife in just a few hours from now.” He raised his glass high again in a toast. “To Graham and Ruby.”

“To Graham and Ruby,” the others echoed, raising their own glasses.

“May you find every happiness in life together, for you certainly deserve it.” Killian took his seat just as their server approached with their meals.

~*~*~

The ladies had enjoyed their lunch and were waiting for their Death by Chocolate desserts when Emma rose. Stretching her back with a grimace, Emma placed her hand on her back and waved away M’s concerned face. She looked down at her best friend and smiled gently.

“Ruby, you’ve been my best friend in the world since we were twelve years old and you moved into my school district. I’ll never forget the first time I saw you. You came into our 7th grade Theater class like a whirlwind.” Ruby chuckled at the memory. “You sat next to me and didn’t let my natural shyness and ‘prickly-ness,’” Emma placed quote signs around the word that Ruby had undoubtedly used many times in referring to her, “deter you. You were gonna be my friend if it killed you to do it. You were my closest friend in no time flat and I am so grateful. It’s been my joy and privilege to grow up with you, to travel the ups and downs of life with you up to this point, that I’ll now be handing off to your husband in just a few hours. And also to watch you fall in love with the love of your life. There are no words to express my happiness for you both.”

A gasp broke from Emma’s lips as a tightening in her back that radiated around her front caused her to hunch over and grab the table before her. The silverware and glassware rattled as the ladies exchanged nervous glances.

Emma laughed, breathlessly, “That really hurt,” she gasped, trying to sit down again. “Guess I don’t know my own strength.”

The tableware continued to rattle and Emma followed M’s and Elsa’s gaze upward to where the large chandelier hanging over their table was swinging back and forth.

“Earthquake!” M’s cried, “Everyone under the table!”

Emma got down on all fours and made her way under the table along with the others. Terror overtook her as the shaking continued. Thoughts of Killian on the other side of the lobby and Henry still in Sacramento raced through her mind as she prayed for their and her own and her baby’s safety. The shaking was beginning to subside when the table collapsed on the four of them, forcing Emma to flatten herself on the floor, her face buried in Ruby’s lap. The pain that ripped through her caused her to scream in agony before everything went black.

~*~*~

The shaking had finally subsided, but the scream and sudden silence from Emma terrified Mary Margaret more than the earthquake had. “Emma? Elsa? Ruby? Everyone okay?”

Ruby, her back facing M’s and bent over from the table on top of them was the first to answer. “I’m ok, but Emma’s unconscious. Her head is in my lap.”

“Okay, we have to get the table off of Emma. On the count of three everybody push as hard as you can. One, two, three!”

Groans from the others filled her ears, but she was barely aware of them as she pushed with all her might against the heavy surface of the table above her. Suddenly, the table gave way as it and the chandelier that had fallen on it flipped off of them. The sunlight nearly blinded her and it took a moment of furious blinking before M’s was able to scan over the others before she scrambled to a still unconscious Emma.

“Emma? Emma!” she cried, checking her pulse and respiration before noticing the wetness that was spreading out from under her sister-in-law. “Ok, I need everyone to surround Emma to help me turn her on her back. Very carefully. I think her water’s broken.”

A gasp broke from Ruby at M’s speculation. M’s eyes met Elsa’s pain filled ones as she realized that she was holding her left arm across her chest. The darkening bruise that took up most of her forearm clued her in that Elsa’s arm was badly broken and she wouldn’t be much help in moving Emma.

“We have to get Emma on her back so I can see exactly what is happening with the baby. As soon as I’m done with that, I’ll get your arm splinted.”

Elsa nodded. “Making sure that Emma and the baby are okay is more important. I can wait.”

“Okay,” she agreed, “Ruby, can you get Emma’s shoulders turned to the left? I’ll handle the torso.”

Ruby nodded and took her position. “On the count of three. One, two, three.” With a mighty heave they were able to get Emma on her back as she let out a low moan at the action.

The front of Emma’s dress was soaked. Mary Margaret wasted no time in shucking the maxi dress she wore up around her waist and removing her underwear. Ruby was gently shaking Emma’s shoulders and murmuring in her ear trying to get her to wake up as Mary Margaret checked to see how far along in labor she was.

“She’s six centimeters,” M’s announced, with obvious relief. “The baby’s coming. Ruby, I need you to get to the front of the hotel and find some paramedics. Hopefully there’s some nearby and you won’t have any trouble getting out there or getting them back here. If you see any employee’s on your way out, tell them we need water and towels here, ASAP.”

Emma was finally starting to come around as Ruby was maneuvering out from under her. “What happened,” she mumbled.

M’s moved to Emma’s head. She placed both hands on her cheeks and held her attention. “Emma, I need you to look at me. Do you know where you are? Do you know what’s happening today?”

“Uh, we’re at the hotel? And we just finished lunch? Ruby and Graham are getting married.” It was really more of a question than she would have liked, but at least there weren’t any memory gaps.

“Yes, that’s good!” M’s exclaimed, “Very good! There was an earthquake and we were trapped under the table. We’ve gotten the table off of us, but your water has broken. The baby is coming.” The calm that normally characterized her in an emergency situation descended on Mary Margaret. She may not have expected to deliver her niece or nephew, but she was far from inexperienced in matters such as these.

“The baby is coming?” Emma cried, “I’m not due for another five weeks! Will he be okay?”

Looking into Emma’s eyes, she could see that panic threatened to overtake her. She infused all the confidence she could muster from the less than ideal situation into her smile before she shared her expectations for the situation.

“At thirty-five weeks, the baby will almost definitely be fine. At this stage of pregnancy, the baby is mostly gaining weight and preparing for delivery. Our only concern is the setting. This is obviously far from ideal.” At that moment their server arrived with an armful of towels and two water pitchers.

“Thank you,” M’s said, taking the supplies from him. Turning back to Emma, she continued. “You are six centimeters dialated and I expect you’ll be ready to push here in about an hour.”

Emma nodded, trying her best to find some measure of comfort that M’s was with her and would do everything she could to ensure a safe delivery of her child. Wanting nothing more than for Killian to be at her side, she closed her eyes and took a deep cleansing breath. She could feel the tightening in her back again spreading around to the front that she had become familiar with since yesterday. She should have realized that the pain was early labor and not just uncomfortable seats in Killian’s beloved classic SS Chevelle. But there was nothing to do about that now. She could only pray that Killian was unhurt and making his way to her and their baby.

~*~*~

When the earthquake finally stopped, Killian and the other men came out from under the bar where they had taken cover when the shaking began. It was all he could do to breathe as terror filled him as he looked around the restaurant and out to the lobby beyond. It was obviously a major earthquake, but the damage he could see was relatively minor. He knew that it would take him some time to get to Emma, however. He looked over to his companions.

“Everyone alright?” he asked.

A chorus of “yesses” and “fine” met him. “I’ve got to get to Emma,” he blurted out, picking his way around the debris as he headed toward the lobby.

“Hold on, brother.” Liam approached and grabbed him by the arm.

“Don’t you try to stop me,” Killian yelled, jerking away from him. “I have to make sure she’s safe. She and the baby.” The terror rose again and tears filled his eyes as the possibilities played out in his mind.

“I’m not trying to stop you, Killian,” Liam agreed, “I’m simply telling you that we’re coming with you. We all want to make sure our ladies are safe.”

Killian deflated. “Of course, brother,” he replied, chagrined. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“They’re safe. They’re all safe. I have to believe that. Everybody, here? Okay, lets go,” Liam called.

~*~*~

BREAKING NEWS scrolled across the television screen, drawing Henry Jones’ attention away from the comic book he was looking at. He was hanging out in a gift shop at the airport terminal before his flight to LAX started boarding. He stared at the monitor in horror as the newscaster was reporting on the 6.7 earthquake that had just hit Los Angeles. Footage of the destruction took his breath away. He hadn’t seen anything like it since the volcano erupted in LA two and half years ago.

A helicopter above the carnage was relaying live pictures as the anchor scrambled trying to report on the disaster. He looked over at the screen where his three o’clock flight was listed. A red CANCELED already flashed next to it. He could feel the fear rising up within, threatening to choke him. He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer for his parents and friends. Especially his baby brother or sister.

Taking a deep breath, he could hear his dad’s voice in his head telling him to stay calm. He was a smart kid and to think about what he needed to do. Feeling at least a little less agitated, he pulled his phone out and texted his friend Thomas to come back and get him due to the cancellation. Thomas was his section leader in the trombone section of his high school band. They had a long rehearsal yesterday to learn the new halftime show for this Friday’s game that he couldn’t miss, not if he wanted to maintain his place in the show anyway. Arrangements had been made with Thomas’ family and for him to fly down on Sunday instead of driving down with his parents the day before. Once that text was sent, he texted his mom and dad. He’d lived in California all his life, so he knew with the level of destruction he was seeing that cell towers weren’t going to allow him to get through if he called.

Moments later, a text from his dad came through. Henry released the breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding as he was assured that he and the other men were all safe but that his mom was at the bridesmaid’s luncheon when the quake hit and he was still trying to get to her. Henry could feel the panic rising in him again as he read through the rest of the text of his dad promising to contact him as soon as he got to her. He slipped his phone back in his pocket to wait. It was all he could do.

~*~*~

Killian put his phone back in his pocket after texting Henry the gist of the situation. The men were making progress out of the oyster bar, but they still had about a hundred yards to cover to get to the entrance of the restaurant that the ladies were at. Killian could only hope for the best when they got there. As they entered the lobby, Graham let out a cry so full of joy and relief that Killian immediately knew who Graham was calling for.

“Ruby!”

The tall brunette turned toward them, and even from that distance, they could see the way her face lit up. “Graham!”

“Where’s everyone? Is Emma okay?”

“The baby is coming,” she called. “We were trapped under the table. Emma lost consciousness for a few minutes, but was coming around when I left. M’s sent me to find paramedics and get them to her. Her water broke and M’s said she’s about six centimeters dilated.”

Killian could feel the blood drain out of his face at Ruby’s report. A strong hand grabbed his bicep, grounding him and his own hand covered it in thanks. “She’ll be alright, brother. We’ll get there in time.”

Killian nodded as he scanned the carnage in front of him, keeping him from his wife and child. Determination filled him as he pushed the panic back and looked at his brother. Nodding again and making sure that David had caught up with them, the men forged ahead into the ruin before them.

~*~*~

M’s mopped Emma’s head from the sweat that had gathered there as another contraction eased. Emma’s exhausted body rested up for the next contraction on the bottom of the upended table.

“I can’t do this,” she sobbed.

“You can, Emma,” M’s cajoled, “You’re almost there. It’s almost time to push.”

Elsa murmured her own encouragement as well, her good hand firmly grasped in Emma’s. Once M’s had gotten Emma as comfortable as she could, she had turned her attention to Elsa’s arm. She had been able to break off one of the chair legs and fashioned a splint and sling out of it and one of the towels their server had brought.

“I want Killian!” Emma cried, head thrashing back and forth as another contraction started. “What if he’s hurt? What if he can’t get to me? To us? What if he’s dead?” The thought that she hadn’t let herself even think of to this point poured out of her in her excruciating pain and despair. She was dimly aware of movement around her when suddenly strong arms enveloped her pushing her up so that she was nearly upright and the voice that she longed to hear was in her ear, telling her to hold on. She melted into the embrace and wept with joy.

“Come on, Emma. You can do it. I’m here,” Killian whispered in her ear. He slipped behind her so that she could recline against him as he held her to him, assuring himself of her safety.

“Killian,” Emma sobbed.

“I’m here, Swan. You can do this.”

She shook her head, vehemently. “I can’t. I can’t. It’s too much. It hurts too MUUUUUUUUCH!” She ended on a scream as another contraction ripped through her.

“Ok, Emma,” M’s looked directly into Emma’s face as the contraction subsided. “It’s time. It’s time for you to push. Can you do that for me?”

Emma shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t do it. I’m sorry.” Her chin trembled and her face shone with sweat and tears as she looked at her doctor, her friend, her sister-in-law. M’s just beamed at her.

“You can do this, Emma,” she stated, confidently. “You really don’t have much choice in the matter. Your child is depending on you.”

Killian whispered in her ear. “You can do this, my love. You are so strong and you have never been more beautiful. Our baby needs you. You can do it!”

Emma sobbed again as she nodded and pushed herself up on Killian. “Emma, when the next contraction comes, I want you to push with everything you have in you, okay?”

Emma nodded again as the next contraction hit. She could barely hear M’s counting to ten between the blood rushing in her ears, Killian’s harsh breathing, and her own screams creating a cacophony of sound that completely overtook all other senses.

“I can see the head, Emma,” M’s cried. “Our little prince or princess has a head full of dark hair! Just like their Daddy! You’re almost there! One more big push for me!”

Killian pressed his lips to Emma’s neck. “You’re almost there, my love. One more push and we can meet our child.”

Emma nodded once more, too worn out to speak, as she prepped herself for one more push. The pain rolled over her and with a mighty cry, Emma pushed through the burning and tearing pain that felt like it was ripping her in two. As she collapsed against Killian, a new sound broke the silence. The cry of a newborn baby.

“It’s a girl,” Mary Margaret announced. A cheer broke out around them as the small gathered crowd celebrated the safe delivery. Emma turned her face to meet her husband’s lips while M’s went about the business of cleaning up their daughter.

Releasing her lips, Killian pulled out his phone to text Henry that he had a new baby sister.

“Did I miss it?” Ruby’s voice shouted, indignantly. “What do you mean, Emma? Having this baby without me?”

Emma laughed weakly and a chuckle rumbled through Killian’s chest at Ruby’s pique. The rattle of a gurney reached their ears as the paramedics arrived. M’s rose to speak to them after placing their baby girl in Emma’s arms.

“She’s beautiful,” she breathed. “Isn’t she beautiful, Killian?” she asked, turning towards him.

“Aye, beautiful.” He placed a kiss to Emma’s temple and reached out to touch his daughter. She caught his pointer finger in her own tiny fist, filling him with an unspeakable joy. The tears began to fall as the realization that in the midst of destruction, injury, and even death, he had helped bring life into the world. Hope filled his heart as he held his wife and daughter tightly, thanking God that they were safe.

The paramedics loaded mother and child onto the gurney. “What do you want to name her, love?”

“After all this, what do you think of Hope? Hope Margaret?”

He couldn’t stop the grin that broke over his face at the similar thought he had just had. “I think that’s perfect, darling.” He pressed a kiss to her lips as the EMT’s started to make their way through the chaos around them.

Once they arrived at the ambulance in front of the hotel, he was informed that they only had room for Emma, Hope, and Elsa inside the ambulance. Elsa tried to hand off her place to the new father, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

“I’m sure that M’s took good care of you, lass, but you need to get to the hospital before I do.” He smiled gently at Emma and Hope as they were loaded in the vehicle. “They’ll want to get you all checked out, and we won’t be far behind you. We’ll see you soon.”

Elsa finally agreed, and after a parting kiss with Liam, climbed in just before they shut the doors.

Killian turned to M’s and David before gathering M’s in his arms. “Thank you,” he whispered, choking back tears. “I owe you everything. They are everything to me.”

M’s hugged him back just as tightly. “I know. They’re fine. They’re both fine.” Letting go, she grasped him by the shoulders and leaned back so she could look him in the eye. “Let’s get to the hospital and see our family.”

Nodding, Killian turned to David with his hand outstretched. Ignoring it, David gathered him into a bone crushing hug of his own. Killian could no longer keep the tears at bay. As a father himself, David knew exactly what Killian needed. He held his friend tightly as he sobbed out all the fear, panic, and joy this day had brought. After several minutes, Killian’s tears abated. Releasing him, David patted him on the back, expressing all the love and support without a single word. Then it was Liam’s turn. The brothers embraced before Liam let go with a teasing twinkle in his eye.

“My little brother is a father,” he exclaimed. “What am I gonna do now?”

“Stop calling me ‘little brother’ for one,” Killian groused, “and second, get a move on yourself!” Everyone laughed as Liam’s face flamed in embarrassment.

Graham, his arm around Ruby with matching grins on their faces offered their congratulations next. “I can’t believe she had the baby without me. But I’m so glad she’s here and safe.” Ruby’s expression sobered. “This could have been bad.”

“It could have been,” Killian agreed, “but, it wasn’t. Thank God.”

“Amen to that. Now let’s get to that hospital. Make sure everyone’s okay.”

Picking their way through the torn up streets, it took nearly an hour before they finally made it the block and a half to Cedars. By the time they got inside, Emma had already been moved to the Maternity floor and Hope had already been cleaned up, checked out and given a clean bill of health as well.

Once everyone had been assured of Emma’s, Hope’s and Elsa’s well being, they all settled in to discuss what to do next. Emma and Killian were texting back and forth with Henry, sending pictures of his new baby sister.

Ruby sat down on Graham’s lap with a pout on her lips. “There’s no telling when we’re gonna be able to get married, now,” she very nearly whined. “It will take months to rebuild enough to rebook everything.”

Elsa threw a questioning look at Liam. “What’s stopping you from getting married here? Now?” she asked. “It’s not a sunset wedding on the beach, but isn’t ‘getting married’ the whole point? No matter where it is?”

Liam raised his eyebrow at the couple as they looked at each other, silently communicating their desires.

“We’re fine with it,” Graham said, never taking his eyes off Ruby.

“Well then,” Liam exclaimed, “Let’s have a wedding!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Emma exclaimed, “We need to Facetime Henry. He was planning on being here, too, after all.”

Everyone agreed and waited patiently while Emma connected to the hospital wi-fi and called Henry.

Graham had entrusted the rings to Killian before they had left their rooms for the Dude’s Day lunch. He may have forgotten about them in the excitement of the afternoon, but when he patted his pocket, he found the box safely containing both rings. He removed them and handed Graham’s ring to Emma.

With a beaming smile on his face, Liam began. “We are gathered here today, in the presence of God and in the aftermath of an earthquake and a birth, and with an assist by technology, to join together Graham Humbert and Ruby Lucas in Holy Matrimony.”

The joy on the faces of the bride and groom and all the people in the room could not be contained. Emma couldn’t hold back her tears anymore as Graham said his vows to Ruby, promising to love, cherish, protect, and honor, before placing a beautiful white and rose gold twisted vine ruby ring on his bride’s finger. Thinking back on all their years growing up, dreaming of this day and all the love and happiness that awaited her best friend, it was all Emma could do to keep from sobbing instead of just happy tears rolling down her face.

With as crowded as the room was, and Emma confined to the bed, Liam, Ruby, and Graham stood at the end of it. Emma handed the ring to Ruby, but she had eyes for no one but her groom as she spoke her own vows of love, fidelity, and honor, and placed the matching rose gold ring adorned with small rubies on his finger.

“It is with great pleasure that I now pronounce you, husband,” he looked at Graham with a smile, “and wife,” Liam intoned, beaming at the happy couple. “You may kiss the bride.”

Ruby let out a whoop and launched herself into her husband's arms. The cheers that rose around them startled Hope enough that she added her wails to the delight being expressed by everyone in the room.

Emma couldn’t help but laugh as the nearly inappropriate PDA continued between the newlyweds. “Let’s keep things PG in here please,” she called.

Henry joined in as well, covering his eyes. “Teenager in the room, guys! Young eyes don’t need to see that!”

“Old eyes don’t need to see it either,” Killian grumbled, drawing his wife and daughter into his arms. Ruby and Graham finally broke apart, both flushed and breathing heavy. “It’s time for you two to find a room.” Graham at least had the decency to blush as he drew Ruby into his side.

M’s came over to Emma and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “We’ll get out of here and let you rest. You’re definitely gonna need it.”

Emma cooed to their daughter as Killian wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gazed lovingly at the two loves of his life. He placed a tender kiss to his wife’s temple then the crown of his daughter’s head before rising to see everyone out of the room.

Smiles, hugs, and murmurs of congratulations and relief were exchanged as everyone bid them goodbye and left the room. Killian turned back toward the bed to see Emma sound asleep with Hope laid down in the crease between her legs. He smiled and came back to the bed, picking up his daughter and sitting down in the rocking chair next to Emma’s bed.

Staring down into his daughter’s grey blue eyes, he was overwhelmed with the blessings bestowed upon him. The love of his life had just given him a daughter in the middle of an earthquake. Yet another state of emergency. A profound sense of gratitude filled him as he raised a short prayer of thanksgiving that they were both safe. He laid his head back, shut his eyes, and began to slowly rock. It was no time at all before father and daughter were sound asleep.

The End

#cs ff #State of Emergency verse #State of Emergency #Code White #krystal writes #artwork by captainsjedi

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