#Voices in the walls (Henry Post-Game Verse)

[cryptic-ashes]

Henry verses

Pre-Game Henry lives from paycheck to paycheck in his ordinary life in South Ashfield. He has troubles making friends and only goes out for work reasons or grocery shopping. He doesn’t know his neighbors aside from Eileen and the janitor.

Post-Game Henry moved out of his apartment, disturbed by the horrors he has experienced in Walter’s dimension. He tries his best to move on from this nightmare, but it’s a slow process.

Dead by Daylight After crawling through the narrow tunnel out of his apartment, Henry finds himself caught up in the fog. He joins the group of survivors and uses his experience to survive the trials the entity summons him for. He can set up boons to protect areas from the influence of killer hexes, similar to the candles he used to lit to get rid of curses in his apartment or within his partner Eileen.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Beside The Dying Fire (part four)

[DnD AU with the tour!verse]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Word count: 3397

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

The sloshing of mud was REALLY starting to get on Katherine’s nerves.

After sleeping through most of the day, Katherine and her companions were on the move. But because of the heavy rainfall the roads had been reduced to an ankle-deep mass of mud and slime. The wetness wormed its way into Katherine’s fur shoes, completely ruining them, and she guessed it wasn’t much better for Joan, who couldn’t even wear shoes. Her hooves and the white skin around her feet were a dark brown color, and Katherine wondered if it would be stained that way forever.

The tragedy was still weighing heavily in all of their minds, especially Katherine’s. Everything kept replaying in her mind- the fire, the violence, the screaming, Anne’s death… Anne may have been silly and loud, but she was still her cousin. They grew up together. And now she was gone.

  “Kat?”

There was a gentle touch on her shoulder; Katherine turned her head to see Catalina, looking worried. She quickly wiped her eyes with her knuckles.

  “Yeah?” Katherine said in her best not-upset voice.

  “Are you alright?” Catalina asked.

  “Yeah,” Katherine said again, this time slightly weaker.

Catalina frowned and took her hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

Katherine sniffled lightly and nodded.

But nothing felt okay. Not anymore. Her home was burnt to the ground, so many of her friends and family and neighbors were dead, she didn’t even know what happened to her father… And now she was on a mission to stop a war that she didn’t even know how it started.

For nearly the entire day, they walked on in solitude, Katherine and Catalina hand-in-hand, the sounds of the forest and the occasional flitting birds their only other companion. Therefore, it was almost a surprise when they all heard the clip-clop of iron-shod hooves, and the rattle of wheels rising from the road ahead.

Soon, the source of the sound comes into view, a handful of riders leading four heavy, covered, ox-pulled wagons: a merchant caravan.

Katherine got a better look as the distance between her group and the caravan slowly closed. The outriders were clearly ready for danger, clad in vests of boiled leather, swords and maces belted to their hips. A few others sit in the wagons, children mostly wearing sturdy, well-made traveling garb.

At the head of the caravan were a man and a woman, both rippling with tension. Katherine sized them up as they approached, but none of them bore the wolf marking of Henry’s troops. The woman was a hard-faced and dangerous-looking centaur, armed and armored in the same fashion as the outriders, with a wide-brimmed kettle helm on her head and the equine body of a muscular shire. The man, on the other hand, was a rather short air genasi with pastel blue skin and halo of crystals growing from his head.          

  “Hail, friend!” The genasi shouted, earning a disapproving look from his centaur companion.

Katherine dared to wave back. “Hail to you as well!” She responded. The caravan guards seemed to relax visibly as she did so.

  “Well met, girl!” The genasi replied as he halted his caravan before the trio. “We haven't seen a lot of travelers on the roads these last few days. What with the war and all.”

The centaur woman beside the caravan master kept her distance. As far as Katherine could tell, she was entirely preoccupied with scanning the road ahead for threats. Judging by her expression, she seemed less than amused by the momentary stop.

The caravan master extended his hand to Katherine. "I am Gale of Edinburg, this is my caravan, and the centaur next to me is my associate, Gaddison. You must excuse her; she thinks threats are everywhere.”

  “They are everywhere,” The centaur replied bitterly, stamping one of her back hooves. She glanced at Katherine’s group and her furry ears pricked up in surprise when she saw Catalina. “You’re pregnant.”

Catalina groaned. “God, is that my entire personality trait now?” Katherine rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, and Catalina crossed her arms and huffed in annoyance.

  “I don’t mean to offend you,” Gaddison said. “I’m just impressed to see that you’re out in these conditions, that’s all. War rages everywhere.”

Catalina ruffled the feathers on her head. “I can take care of myself. I’m very strong.”

  “She is,” Katherine nodded. 

  “Well, that’s good,” Gaddison said. Her eyes slid over to Joan, but she didn’t say anything.

  “By any chance, do you know what has caused the war?” Katherine asked the caravan master.

Gale blinked a few times. “I do not.” He said. “I don’t think anyone does.” He swung his head to the rest of the caravan, but they all either shrugged or shook their heads.

  “I see.” Katherine said.

She and the two caravan masters chat for a little while longer before the wagons take off again in a grinding of wheels, stomping of hooves, and squelching of mud. It wasn’t long before the caravan was just clouds of dust in the distance. Katherine and her companions began their trek once again.

Hours passed. The sun began to set and the last of summer’s humidity weighed thickly in the air. It would be autumn soon, which meant cooler temperatures, but more wind, rain, and snow. Katherine wasn't sure which was worse.

That being said, the sight of a large building up ahead, with brightly lit windows and smoke coming out of its chimneys, and a surrounding village was welcome indeed.

The smell of farm animals and manure floated on the wind, getting stronger and stronger as the trio got near. Bleats and snorts and clucks whisked around the village as they entered. Some people glanced over, mainly at Joan or specifically Catalina’s stomach, but didn’t stop them.

They soon came to a two-story hall accompanied by a row of stables and surrounded by a waist-high stone fence. Sounds of music and laughter spilled out of the open windows, and a bright watchfire burned at the fence's gate, next to a crudely-painted wooden sign of a sleeping creature, hung from an iron post set into the gatepost.

  “The Sleeping Dragon Inn,” The sign said to them in bright red letters visible by the light of the watchfire. Katherine and her companions made their way past the fence, through the courtyard, and into the main hall.

The high-ceilinged common room of the Sleeping Dragon In was bright and filled with the stink of spilled ale, roasting meat, and burning wood--all the aromas of civilization. Maybe half the benches in the big room were empty; the rest were filled with merchants, caravan guards, and other travelers, each busy with their own amusements, whether that be food, drink, dice, or song. A few glance over and whisper something to each other, but don’t speak up directly.

Katherine walked up to the bar. Behind it stood the stout, scruffy dwarf innkeeper, idly polishing a bottle of some dark fluid she had never seen before. She asked him for a bed for the night for her and her companions.

In response, the innkeeper rattled off a long list of options and their associated costs, from the expensive and luxurious to the downright squalid but cheap. Katherine ended up purchasing a comfortable private room and plain dinner for fifteen gold.

Katherine and her companions sat down at a booth as they were served a supper of thick brown bread and a bowl of stewed game birds seasoned with a tiny dash of valuable black pepper. Katherine was given a tankard of freshly-brewed ale, while Catalina and Joan were given a simple glass of water.

  “Do you think they’d let me have some ale?” Catalina asked Katherine, not at all joking.

  “Absolutely not.” Katherine said instantly.

Catalina wrinkled her nose. “Come on! Just one drink!”

  “No.” Katherine said again, and Catalina huffed in response.

Katherine looked over at Joan, and saw that she was looking all around the inn. She appeared to be searching for something, but stopped when she noticed that Katherine was watching her. She slumped down in the booth and nibbled on her bread.

After they ate, they were shown their room on the second floor, which was, admittedly, a little cramped, but it had four walls, a roof, two cots with a straw mattress, and a bed, which was all they really wanted. 

  “We’ll go to the market in the morning,” Katherine said. She and Joan had taken the cots, while Catalina got the bed. “We may need to purchase some things before we get moving.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Catalina said, and Katherine heard the sheets she was laying on crinkle when she shrugged.

  “Alright, let’s all get some rest,” Katherine said. “Goodnight.” She closed her eyes and dreamt of fire for the rest of the night.

------

Colorful flags of different trading companies fluttered in a strong wind above the market square, which was bustling with activity that morning. Though Holm was fundamentally a small town, a fair number of traders bearing mundane goods such as grains, dyes, and cloth were stopped in the square, as did monster hunters and treasure hunters offering hard-to-appraise finds from nearby ruins. The merchants mostly traded from impermanent tents open at one side, but some wander through the crowd and act as their own auctioneers: “Who will give me fifty, fifty for a silver ring from the time of the ancients? Fiftyfiftyfifty thank you fifty-five-fifty-five-fifty-five I have fifty-five…” The air was sweet with the smells of cinnamon and curry spices from the south, and stinky cheese from the north.

Currently, Katherine was in a tent that sold clothing, and was squinting at a big, jaunty lime green hat with a huge feather. By her side, Catalina ran her hands over a golden robe while the shopkeeper eyed her suspiciously, probably wondering how she would fit in the cowl. When Catalina noticed this and the glances her belly was getting, she scowled and stomped over to Katherine.

  “I hate it here,” The Aasimar grumbled.

Katherine reached up a hand to massage her friend’s shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sorry, honey,” She said. “I have enough to buy some fresh clothes for all of us. Would you like some?”

Their clothing seemed to finally be fully dried from the perpetual wet of the rain and river, but still bore the stink of smoke and burned flesh. Several people seemed to notice this by the way their noses wrinkled when they would pass by too close by.

  “No, it’s okay,” Catalina said, tugging on her black nun’s robes. Her pregnancy was easily seen through them, earning a lot of incredulous and judgemental stares.

  “Are you sure?” Katherine asked. “I don’t mind, really.”

Catalina shook her head. “I’m good.”

  “Hm.” Katherine said. “Alright.”

Just as they’re about to walk out of the shop, they hear a halfling woman cry, “Thief!!!”

Katherine spun around to see someone in a drab brown cowl brazenly running off with a basket of red apples, leaving a large gap in the offerings of a halfling’s fruit cart. They easily bobbed and weaved around all the townsfolk who try to get in their way. The halfling uselessly shouted, “Thief! Thiieeef!” until she started to lose her voice.

The thief was about to get away when a huge mountain of an orc stepped in their path and they fell backwards. The hood came off, and Katherine hissed underneath her breath.

  “Oh, shit,” Catalina said helpfully at her side. “That thief belongs to us!”

Townsfolk rushed to pick up the fallen apples--the “count of five” rule seemed to be an old tradition for judging the edibility of fallen food in Holm. Then they return the fruit to the halfling, because honesty must also have been a tradition in the town.

Two of the town guards show up, but Katherine and Catalina have to step in before they can strong-arm the thieving albino Tiefling away.

  “I am so sorry about her,” Katherine said. “We should have kept a better eye on her.”

One of the guards looked Katherine up and down. “This rat belongs to you two?”

  “Yes,” Katherine said. “I am so sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Thankfully, the guards took mercy on them and left them with just a warning. Katherine breathed a sigh of relief when they were gone, then gave Joan a stern glare.

  “What were you thinking, young lady? Stealing?” She said.

  “Sorry,” Joan whispered, her ears drooping. “I-I just thought that we would need some food… Especially Catalina.”

  “Rude.” Catalina said. “But fair.”

Katherine sighed again, then knelt down in front of Joan, since the little Tiefling was so short. “Then I can buy some. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Joan nodded, avoiding eye contact. Katherine ruffled her hair, then stood up straight. A few people were muttering and glaring at Joan, but the whole matter of the thief was quickly forgotten when a man down the street shouted, “Death cloud!”

Katherine blinked, looking around. To the east, she could see a dark purple-and-black cloud on the horizon. The cloud looked big, maybe as big as the town. And judging, by the sudden pandemonium broken out through the market, its appearance was not a good thing.

Immediately, the merchants broke down their tents, and many market patrons hurried into their houses and basements. Shutters snapped shut all down the street. The animal sellers hastily bargained with landowners, then pushed their sheep through storm doors into basements. A baby cried madly despite her mother’s tense reassurances. Some people uprooted flowers as they passed them; they’ll be no good to anybody else soon enough.

  “What’s going on?” Catalina shouted over the panic. But the only answer she got was more screaming and yelling.

Joan yelped loudly as someone stomped on her tail. Katherine was shoved into Catalina, and then promptly got her foot trod on. They were all going to be trampled if they didn’t get away soon. 

  “Oi!” A voice suddenly called out. “Get in here!”

The three of them whirled around to see a man waving from out of his front door. They hurried over and inside the safety of his home.

The house was filled to the brim with artifacts and art. Various geared axles from larger defunct automated artifacts, and some compelling-looking sleek metal cylinders etched with symbols that look very powerful gleamed in the light cast from conjured glass orbs all throughout the rooms. A whole alchemy set, composed of vials, beakers, and burners that laid out across a mahogany desk; a sculpted dragon egg, which was swaddled in some sweaters; a torc of life and death from an old laboratory; some rather fancy clothing on mannequins; an assortment of spare automation parts; and, of course, a shined bookshelf packed full of hefty tomes of magic- all of these things decorated that household that pulsed with magical energy.

Their savior was a young wood elf man, swathed in forest green robes with sparkling gold hems. He had bronze skin that was speckled with blue and pink paint, dark coppery hair, and deep, rich brown eyes. An amber sparrow earring dangled from one of his pointy ears, and he was wielding a hand-carved paintbrush. He hurried around the house, slamming shutters and curtains, but then turned to them with a warm smile after he finished.

  “That was close,” He said. “You three must be travelers. Mostly everyone in the area knows about the storms.”

  “What was that?” Catalina asked.

  “Death Cloud,” The elf said. “It’s been going on for a few years, now. King Henry conjured it over our village after we refused to fight in the war with him. Better than being raided and killed or kidnapped, I suppose.”

Katherine winced internally. So other villages were being terrorized by Henry, too. She wondered what would have happened if Ghent had gotten a Death Cloud instead of being raided.

Would Anne still be alive?

  “Anyway, I’m Hans Holbein,” The elf said with an elegant bow. “Who are all of you?”

  “Katherine Howard,” Katherine said. “These are Catalina and Joan.”

Hans swept his eyes over the three of them, focusing on Joan. “Stars above,” He murmured. “An albino Tiefling! Wow, I’ve never seen one before! I didn’t even know they existed!”

Joan shuffled her hooves, glancing up at Katherine with an anxious expression. Katherine patted her head comfortingly.

  “Hokka, banos,” Came a deep, rumbling voice.

Katherine’s eyes widened as a large stone golem came lumbering out of one of the other rooms. Its rocky grey body was covered in clumps of moss and streaked in green engravings. Its eyes were glowing bright green as it stared down at the trio.

  “Hokka, slogeils,” It said.

  “Woah,” Catalina said.

  “Oh, right!” Hans presented the golem with a grand gesture of his arms. “This is Rocky, my two ton enchanted stone golem!”

  “You must have been feeling very creative when naming it,” Joan said.

Katherine felt a jolt, but Hans laughed loudly, clearly not offended.

  “You are absolutely right, little one,” Hans said. 

Outside, the storm began to pick up. Katherine heard the wind buffeting the house and heavy rain pelt down on the roof. There was also the sizzling of something. Hans ran over to a ladder leading up to a loft and peered through a periscope. He whistled.

  “It’s real bad out there,” He said, then looked over at the trio. “Wanna see?”

One-by-one, they each took a look through the periscope.

Katherine watched as the black-and-purple cloud engulfed the entire town, building by building. At the cloud’s touch, flowers withered, trees dropped their leaves, and wooden shutters blackened as though charred. Black raindrops fell against tree trunks and melted the bark in grooves.

Finally, the cloud came for Hans’ building, blocking her view of anything but its own darkness. She quickly stepped back, and Hans retracted the periscope and shuttered the hole.

  “Looks like there’s nothing to do but wait,” Hans said. “You all can stay with me until the storm ends. Make yourself at home!”

------

It’s been two days since the Death Cloud rolled into Holm and Katherine had raging cabin fever.

As hospitable as Hans and Rocky were, she hated being cooped up inside when she had a war to stop (even if she didn’t exactly know how to stop it just yet). She read Hans’ wide collection of books, painted, and even tried casting spells, but nothing could get rid of her boredom. She was ready to go back out and continue her adventure. So, on the second day, she approached Hans.

Hans was in a small alchemy room, grinding up some fire salts in a mortar and pestle. Joan was asleep in their bed chambers, curled in a small ball, while Catalina was reading peacefully. Surely they wouldn’t mind Katherine’s plans.

  “We need to get going.”

Hans’ ears flicked up and he turned to Katherine with confusion on his face. “But the storm is still going.”

  “Hosa, banos. Hosa, rauo’nd.” Rocky interrupted to offer a plate of deviled eggs it prepared itself.

  “Thank you,” Katherine said, taking one. “And I know,” She continued. “But we really need to get moving again. We kinda have a mission.”

Hans raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” He put the mortar and pestle down. “I suppose I have something that can help you get through the storm. Come with me.”

Hans took Katherine to his bedroom and presented her a selection of masks and waxed clothes. Katherine ended up choosing a stag mask and fresh fur clothes, Catalina chose a hare mask and padded light armor, and Joan chose a bird mask and grey robes. Hans stuffed the noses of the masks with incense and herbs that he said would protect him from the poisonous fog outside in the storm, then handed them a small, pocket-sized tome of spells.

  “Just in case,” He said. “You three be careful out there. And remember me when you’re legends.” He flashed a smile.

  “Thank you, Hans. You too, Rocky,” Katherine said, dipping her head. “We won’t forget this.”

  “No problem,” Hans said. “Go on, now. Good luck.”

Katherine nodded, opened the door, and then ventured into the Death Cloud with her companions.

[welllpthisishappening]

First-Line Center, Part Two

She hadn’t read the invitation.

It hadn’t changed in years, after all - a set of rules and expectations for a New Year’s party that they were all going to break anyway because the most traditional thing about this team was flouting tradition. So, Emma had mostly ignored it. Until. A shout and Killian refusing to wear a tie and something crashing in her kitchen, one kid worried about another and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something.

There was a joke about fresh ice to be made, she was sure.

—–

Word Count: 4.1 K Rating: F for festive family feelz AN: There are a lot of people in this story. Like. So many people. Matt Jones thinks his parents are the best, you heard it here first. And this also marks the end of Going Top Shelf on Ao3. There are still far too many one shots I haven’t posted and I don’t know that I’ll ever give up on this ‘verse or this family that is genuinely my most favorite thing to write. I will probably post the rest at some point. Thank you, as always, for letting me shove this family at you, internet. It’s the best. 

|| Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll ||

—–

The loft, for the most part, hadn’t changed much in the last thirty or so years. Emma wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing – there were still crystal glasses and a wait staff with impeccably creased pants and the outfits, across the board, were as absurd and over the top as they normally were. 

It wasn’t much different. 

Except there were more people. There were kids and grandkids and significant others, a low hum of talking and laughing and every single one of them breaking that rule about not discussing hockey. Emma glanced around, trying to find the two other kids that she hadn’t seen yet, but that was a fool’s errand because she heard the footsteps before she heard the shout and the slightly strangled dad seemed to echo around the room as soon as Peggy skidded against Killian’s side. 

“Hey,” she breathed, eyes bright and just a little out of breath and Emma absolutely, positively did not want to consider why that was. She was starting to make several sweeping assumptions. Killian pressed a kiss to the top of her hair, eyes flashing towards Emma. “You guys doing that mind melding thing?” “That what thing, exactly?” Emma asked, and Peggy made a face, twisting so the beads on her dress didn’t dig into Killian’s side. 

“The mind melding thing. Toph said you were doing it before.” “When did you see your brother? And where’s your other one?” “Probably teaching Noah how to score fifty goals a season.” “You think Matt's going to score fifty goals this season?” Killian cut in, interest and something that felt like pride almost too obvious. Emma bit her lip so she didn’t look like a complete idiot when she smiled. 

She wasn’t sure that worked either. 

She was really starting to believe her suspicions were right. 

“Please,” Peggy huffed. “He’s on some other level right now. He’s being an idiot and,” she paused, using Killian’s shoulder as leverage and Emma followed her gaze across the loft. “Look.” 

Emma’s breath caught. 

Loudly. 

Matt and Roland were crouched in the corner of the room, a tiny stick clutched in Noah’s hands and a makeshift goal that may have been Henry’s phone and Leo’s keys, both of them mumbling instructions under their breath while Elsa and Mary Margaret recorded the whole goddamn thing. 

“Oh,” Emma breathed, a rush of memories and feelings she wasn’t entirely expecting. 

“The more things change, huh?” Killian muttered. It took some finangling to get a step closer to her, having to shift Peggy slightly and drawing a not-so-quiet grumble out of her. “What do you know, little love?” “Nothing!” “I genuinely do not know who is worse at lying you or your brother.” “Which one?” “Take your pick at this point,” Emma laughed. “How long have they been over there? And seriously what do you know, babe?” “Like, at least twenty minutes. MD got here before I did though, which was super weird to begin with, but who knows? Maybe Claire’s a good influence.” “You didn’t answer that last part.” “I genuinely have no idea. Honestly. I’ve barely talked to MD. He’s been busy being cute and breaking all of Aunt Gina’s rules, but again, it’s super cute and Aunt Gina doesn’t care at all.” “Where is Gina?” Killian asked, glancing around like she was going to appear out of nowhere and chastise all of them for daring to question any of her actions. 

Peggy opened her mouth to answer, but there were more footsteps and more hands clapping on shoulders and really none of them had evolved as people at all in the last thirty years. Will grinned when Killian groaned, slinging an arm around Peggy’s shoulders to rest his chin on the top of her hair. 

He wasn’t wearing tails – although the pattern on his jacket probably would have done damage to Emma’s eyes if she stared at it for too long. There were far too many colors. And his tie clip appeared to be masquerading as a small disco ball. 

“You better hope Gina doesn’t find you, Cap,” Will said. “How is it that you get away with no tie every year?”

“I guess that means Gina likes me more than you. Did you bring something to drink? Can I get something to drink?” “Cap did you not bring anything to drink again?” Robin called from the other side of the room, moving towards them with a waiter half a step behind. Killian rolled his eyes. 

“You getting that guy to follow you around?” “You want to drink or you want to make fun?”

“I think that’s suggesting we can’t do both perfectly well,” Emma said, leaning around Killian to grab two glasses. And if nothing really ever changed at that party or in that loft, then she was exceptionally glad that the quality of the champagne fell underneath that umbrella. “You yell at Liam about being the better grandfather yet?” Robin didn’t quite flush, but he definitely pressed his lips together and Will’s laugh echoed in the minimal about of space around them. It only served to push his chin further into Peggy’s hair.

“I am not a kid, Uncle Will,” she grumbled, doing her best to pull away from him and it absolutely did not work. It never really did. “You don’t get to do that anymore.” Will hummed. And didn’t move his arm. “Yeah, yeah, where’s the boyfriend?” “Talking to Henry.” “Your dad challenge him to a shootout yet? Dr. J’s way too busy doing whatever he’s doing and Chris got roped into meeting Leo’s—what’s her name?” “Oh my God.”

“Not an answer.” “And we just got here, Scarlet,” Killian said, but the distinct lack of contradiction appeared with neon lights and sound effects. “So, you know...we haven’t had time. You talk to Matt?” Will tilted his head, brows pulled low because it was, admittedly, kind of a weird question and they hadn’t even taken their jackets off yet. “Should I have?” “Nah.” “Wow, no wonder Pegs sucks so much at lying, she definitely got that from you and Em.” “Ok, that is not a compliment at all,” Emma sighed, another round of footsteps and Phillip’s tie was metallic. Ruby weaved her way through the crowd, a bright red jacket covered in sparkles and maybe they should have made another rule about how both she and Scarlet made the whole thing incredibly weird and far too competitive every year. 

“Emma’s the worst liar in the world,” Ruby announced, tugging the half-finished champagne out of Emma’s hand and ignoring her cries of protest completely. “C’mon, gimme this. My jacket keeps scratching my skin.” “And whose fault is that?” Will asked archly. He waved his hand towards a different waiter, flashing a smile when Ruby did her best to hip check him into the nearest wall. “Nuh uh, not going to work Lucas. My balance is unparalleled.” “Modest too,” Phillip added. “I have a question.” “It makes me nervous that you felt you had to announce it,” Emma said slowly. She wasn’t entirely surprised that they’d drawn the crowd – more ridiculous outfits and Regina flanked by both of Henry’s daughters, and Mary Margaret’s smile appeared to be permanently etched on her face. And Harper whatever her last name might have been only looked vaguely overwhelmed. 

That was definitely a step in the right direction. 

Elsa flicked her fingers against Killian’s shoulders when she moved towards them, Liam next to her and Anna’s hair twisted into elaborate braids, more than a few streaks of silver there as well. 

Maybe things had kind of changed. 

Emma hadn’t realized she was leaning against Killian’s side until he kissed her hair again. 

“Got the drinks before you even took your jackets off, huh?” Elsa asked, arching an eyebrow and they should have patented that move years ago. They’d have made a fortune. 

Killian’s lips quirked. “You cry about your grandkid?” “Nah, that’s Liam’s game.” “Aw, c’mon,” Liam groaned, both Robin and Will drifting dangerously close to cackling. Regina made some kind of noise that might have been an agreement. 

“I think that means your old, leader,” Will said, laughter clinging to his voice. “Not you though, El. Just Liam.” “Yeah, good save, Scarlet,” Elsa murmured. 

“Something about top-tier defenseman,” Anna added. Her dress was green, more sparkles along the edges and none of them were very creative. They were all covered in sparkles and there was probably a joke about looking like ice to be made. 

Or there would have been if Phillip didn’t cough pointedly, staring at the lot of them with a hint of frustration and dash of amusement and Aurora was showing off photos on her phone. 

“Did we interrupt you, Rook?” Robin asked, chuckling when Phillip flipped him off. “There are kids here!” “His grandkid is here,” Killian muttered. He hissed when several fingers flicked at his jacket again, not able to swat them away with one arm around Emma and the other still awkwardly twisted between Will and Peggy. “He’s got a grandkid because he’s old, you see.” “Yeah, yeah, you’re hysterical, Cap. Looking a little greyer up there than usual, aren’t we?” “Was that supposed to be in the collective?” “Shut up.” “It’s nice to see that the maturity level of this team hasn’t changed with its hair color,” Ruby said, nudging Emma in the side when Mary Margaret started to play the video of Noah. And, really, she refused to be held accountable for whatever noise she made. 

Because she’d already had quite a bit of champagne in quite a short amount of time and it was definitely warm in that loft and there was too much smiling and too much laughing and the video was so goddamn cute it probably should have been illegal. 

“Nailed it,” Ruby mumbled to Mary Margaret, a hum of agreement and quick swipe of knuckles under eyes. “And,” she added, making sure her voice dropped to something almost resembling a whisper, “you got to get here on time, Em. M’s went full-on sugary sweet mom with Leo’s girlfriend.” Emma’s eyes moved, a little begrudgingly, away from the screen and those assumptions may have been guarantees now or whatever and—”Do we like her?” Mary Margaret shrugged. “Leo hasn’t stopped laughing all night.” “Seems like a sign.” “Of you guys ignoring me,” Phillip interrupted sharply. Emma widened her eyes, expression only a hint less mocking than the general ooh that moved across the entire group. 

“Known goon, Phillip—” Will started, but there was more glaring and more laughing and Regina was handing out more glasses of champagne. 

“What’s your question, Rook?” Ruby asked. “Or comment or concern or whatever.” Phillip clicked his tongue, but Ruby had never been intimidated by any of them and the likelihood of that changing was slim to none. She drank the rest of her champagne in three, quick gulps. “What’s going on with Matt?” The oxygen flew out of the room. Or got whistled two minutes for roughing. And ruining the conversation. 

Phillip grimaced, eyes darting around like he was waiting for someone to say something or agree with him and no one made a single noise. Killian’s hand tightened around Emma’s shoulder. 

“Do we think something’s wrong with Matt?” Anna whispered. She absolutely did not whisper. They were all absolutely terrible at holding their alcohol. 

“No,” Emma and Killian said quickly, but they were also pretty God awful at lying and she was totally going to blame the alcohol. And that video. Mary Margaret should not be allowed to have a phone anymore. 

“No?” Elsa asked. 

“No,” Killian repeated. There were more footsteps. Because they were all absolutely terrible at lying and keeping secrets and whispering. Especially the whispering. 

“Wait, which one is Matt?” another voice asked, quiet and a little cautious and that must have been Harper. They probably should have introduced themselves to Harper. 

Leo shifted on his feet, nodding in the direction of the approaching footsteps. “The one who looks like he’s about to drop gloves with all of us at once.” “I don’t entirely understand that joke.” “And it might not have been a joke,” Peggy mumbled, holding up both hands when Matt glared at her. 

Harper looked stunned. 

“We’ll get you all caught up to speed,” Ruby promised. “If M’s can figure out what icing is in less than one season, you’ll be totally fine.” She ignored Mary Margaret’s scoff, turning towards Matt and the stick held lightly in his hand. “Hey mini-Jones. You going to bite off any reporter’s heads in the next few days?” Matt froze, crossing his arms awkwardly and the tie around his neck was far looser than it should have been. “No one bit anything in post.” “Did I say that?” “Certainly sounded like it.” Ruby hummed, eyes far too bright to be anything except concerning. “What do you think you know, Ru?” She shrugged, but the smile was full blown now and Harper was still muttering questions under her breath. “I know nothing until you confirm it, mini-Jones. Weird how it always seems to happen that way.” And Emma needed to stop, simply, reacting – sounds falling out of her without her explicit permission, but she couldn’t do much about it and something snapped into place and Killian might have been laughing. It felt like it at least, body shaking against hers and fingers moving towards her neck because they still hadn’t taken their goddamn coats off. 

“Is someone going to explain what is going on?” David asked, a few more sounds of agreement. 

“Oh my God,” Peggy yelled. Her hands flew to her mouth, eyes wide as she bobbed on the balls of her feet. Matt glared at her. “I know what it is. Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God! MD!” “Shut up, Mar.” “I didn’t say anything! Oh my God. Am I right though?” “I thought you didn’t say anything,” Leo muttered knowingly, and Matt’s glare wasn’t quite as sharp when he turned that direction. 

“Whatever, Nolan,” Peggy hissed. “MD. Is that—oh my God, did you tell Toph?” “Mar—” “—No, no, did you tell Toph and not me? Are you kidding me?” “I genuinely have no idea what is going on,” David admitted. No one acknowledge him. Probably because Peggy was trying to beat up her older brother, barely restrained by Will and a recently-returned to the conversation Jeremy Humbert who was also trying to say hello to Emma and Killian at the same time. 

It would be a miracle if they didn’t scar Harper for life. 

“MD,” Peggy pressed, lunging forward and barely making contact with the front of his shirt. “Are you sure?”

His eyes narrowed, a particular type of glare Emma wasn’t sure she’d ever seen one of her kids use on one of her other kids. And she was half a second away from reprimanding two grown adults who were both wearing absolutely absurd outfits, heard Killian’s quiet hey now that had always worked, every single time, but Matt groaned louder than either one of them combined. He leaned forward, pulling Peggy towards him – a cry of rather loud indignation from her, that only made Chris laugh from the other side of the room. 

“C’mere,” Matt growled, wrapping his arm all the way around Peggy’s waist. She put up a fight, kicking and punching his arm, but he was honestly having some kind of season and Emma’s gaze moved towards Killian like there were magnets involved. 

He smirked at her. 

“Oh my God, caveman,” Peggy snapped. “Where’s your wife? Does she know you’re an absolutely insane person?” “Mar, I swear, if you do not stop talking right now, I will—" “—What? What, MD? Please go into exact detail of what you’re going to do.” He made another noise – ridiculously familiar and Elsa had to tuck her head into Liam’s shoulder to stop her laugh from bordering on offensive. Anna didn’t even try. And it only took another moment for reinforcements to arrive, Chris jogging across the room to help move Peggy. Harper was never going to come back. 

They’d have to apologize to Leo. 

“God, P, stop playing rag doll and just move,” Chris sighed. She dug her heels further into the ground. 

“Are you not going to help with this?” Roland asked, walking back into the room with a kid hanging off his back and Lizzie smiling next to him. 

Emma shook her head. “What could I possibly do?” “Ah, yeah, fair enough.” “Smart kid.” “Less fair.” “Mar, I am serious,” Matt continued, doing his best to drag her into the nearest corner and there wasn’t much of a point anymore because they all spent far too much time together and helped raise each other or something equally absurd and Killian’s fingers were warm when they twisted around Emma’s. 

Peggy stuck her tongue out. “Fine, fine, fine, but the next time—you know what, I don’t care. Fine. Let’s go.” It only took a moment. 

Emma was, honestly, surprised – was certain Peggy would demand answers before they found the corner or simply check both Matt and Chris until she was in charge of the situation, but it was also kind of nice, that hint of anticipation and waiting and—

“I knew he’d want to tell them first,” Claire said. Emma jerked her head around at the addition to the group, the whole lot of them standing in the middle of the goddamn loft with a slightly cautious looking waitstaff lingering against the walls. 

She was dressed up as well, hair twisted at the nape of her neck and more sparkles, but the outfit had nothing on the look on her face – something about glowing and the next line shift and absolutely wonderful and complete and utter change. 

Killian kissed Emma’s cheek. 

And Claire flushed slightly, arms wrapped around her middle when her teeth found her lower lip. 

“I didn’t actually tell you,” she said. “So I didn’t ruin the surprise or anything.” “Is it a surprise?” Emma asked, only a little disappointed her voice shook. She might have been crying. She was absolutely crying. 

“Ah, I don’t know about that. It was almost responsible.” “Oh. Yeah?” The question was ridiculous, another string of inexplicable and unplanned emotion, but Emma could barely see through the tears in her eyes and Ruby’s sniffle sounded far too loud. Although, not quite as loud as the shriek that came from the far corner, both Chris and Matt doing their best to quiet Peggy. 

They failed. Miserably. Or, well, as miserably as it was possible to be when everything seemed to be glowing and new and filled with very expensive champagne. 

“Look who’s old now, Jones,” Regina muttered, tugging lightly on the back of Noah’s shirt. Elsa snickered, Anna wiping away her own tears and Roland grinned as widely as anyone else in the room. 

Peggy was still screaming. 

“Are you kidding me, MD?” She was jumping, arms flailing and hair falling out of its updo and Chris had shifted behind her, trying to control either one of those things, but that was a pipe dream and Peggy was absolutely crying too. 

Matt smiled. And shook his head. “No joke, Mar,” he said, soft and honest and Emma’s heart felt like it grew forty-seven sizes. She leaned back against Killian’s chest. 

Peggy’s hand flew back to her mouth, finally staying on the ground for more than a few seconds. Her shoulders shook slightly, though, and then it was a whirlwind of sounds – exhales and sighs and you’re going to be so good and there was far too much crying, but Peggy jumped at Matt and he caught her with the kind of athletic dexterity that was absolutely, positively genetic. 

That boded well for the future. 

Emma didn’t count how long they stayed in that corner – a moment and thing and three kids who loved each other more than just about anything else in the world and believed in each other more than anything else in the world – but Matt pressed his cheek against Peggy’s hair, eyes lifting with the hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. 

“So, uh, we’ve got some news.” “Good news,” Claire added, her own expression drifting closer to joy than anything else. “Like, you know. Good news.” “The best news,” Roland amended. “Although I’m totally ready to battle Matt to the death for, like, dad of the year award or something.” Matt groaned, but any hint of frustration was gone, replaced only with announcements and new and he moved towards Emma and Killian slowly – as if he were worried about spooking them or their recently acquired status and— “I’ll win every time if I’m half as good as you guys,” he said. 

Emma had no idea what sound she made. Killian’s knees buckled slightly. And Matt practically beamed, hugging both of them at the same time. 

Mary Margaret took video. 

Maybe she could keep her phone. 

“So, uh…” David started. “Just to be certain here, complete sentences and official statements—” “—That was good,” Ruby said. “C’mon, mini-Jones. Let’s get official so David can toast and we can promise Harper we’re not all usually this weird.” Lizzie shook her head. “We’re always this weird.” Matt laughed softly, moving back to Claire’s side and Emma’s record wasn’t going to be for eye rolls. It was totally going to be for crying. “We’re, uh…” Matt said, pausing to take a deep breath and his gaze didn’t move away from them when he spoke again. “We’re going to have a baby.” “Yeah, I think we picked up on that kid,” Killian said, voice gruff. “Why the face during post, then?” “I wasn’t really doing anything during post.” “God, it’s like all three of you are trying to do the worst job of lying to us. Didn’t we age out of this already?”

“We went to the doctor yesterday,” Claire explained when Matt didn’t immediately answer, far too busy rolling his eyes and trying to contain his sister’s limbs. “They didn’t want to let him off of our morning skate, but then he scored, so…” “Oh,” Killian said. “Right. Right. That’s—” “We’ve totally got pictures.”

He took a deep breath, ignoring the small army of cameras pointed towards him because they were the most absurd family in the history of the entire NHL and several different universes. 

Liam threw his whole head back when he laughed, his own tears obvious and maybe they weren’t just absurd, they were a bunch of giant saps. “We toast? Gina got that crazy expensive champagne, right?” “It pains me that you think I wouldn't get the very expensive champagne,” Regina said. 

“Of course, Your Highness, of course. No more cracks about getting older, right?” “I make absolutely no promises,” Emma grinned, doing it entirely for the reaction. Liam cursed in Norwegian. 

And there was, in fact, a copious amount of champagne and discussion of that one goal the night before reenacted several times by several different grandchildren with a variety of cameras pointed their direction. And there was dancing and food and a countdown that felt more important than it ever had, a shift and a change and everything all at once. 

And Emma expected the kiss, something about tradition and rules, but she was a little stunned by the everything of that too – Killian’s thumb tucked under her chin and a look she couldn’t quite ever name, but had come to absolutely covet and she smiled before his lips landed on hers, soft and insistent and—

“I love you,” he whispered. She kissed him again. 

“More than anything. Even if you’re kind of ancient now.” Killian laughed, breath warm against Emma’s cheek. “Yeah, as long as we get to do that together, I’m good.” “What a line. You look up kid-sized jerseys on your phone yet?” “No, did you?” Emma shrugged. “Maybe.” “Maybe meaning definitely?” “You really didn’t look yet?” “Nah,” Killian said, fingers doing something entirely unfair against her side. “I asked Liam and Locksley where they got theirs.” “Cheater.” “Efficient.” “Yeah, yeah, whatever you have to tell yourself, grandpa.” “I like that sound of that, actually.” “Good because that’s what we’re going with,” Matt yelled, twisted around Claire and he hadn’t moved more than a few inches away from her for most of the night. 

Killian nodded, tugging his phone out of his pocket and Emma didn’t have to look to know that there was already an order receipt in his email. “You good with that, Swan?” “Better,” she promised. 

The packages came two days later – plural, with more baby-sized merch than they’d bought for any of their own kids, a fact all three kids were quick to point out before Emma quirked an eyebrow and tilted her head and Peggy and Chris had to admit that they’d ordered their own merch too.