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m0llygunn · 16 hours ago

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'tis the season (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: your sweet neighbour addresses a christmas card to both you and eddie — the only issue? she's never met eddie... so how does she know his name? eddie decides that 'tis the season for all your neighbours to know his name

cw: 18+!, christmas adjacent but you don't have to celebrate, smut, oral, fingering, pinv sex, idk mentions of dying of embarrassment, friends with benefits to more (slightly ambiguous ig) an: just a quick lil thing!!! if you liked it pls tell me or i'll pass away from lack of attention wc: 2.4k+

You didn’t think twice about it — a Christmas card that your next door neighbour dropped off to your apartment, addressed to both you and Eddie.

You should have thought twice about it — because you’ve never introduced lovely Mrs. Mabel to Eddie, and Eddie doesn’t necessarily show up to your apartment during the day time.

What you and him do… it’s more of a night time thing. You call him — sometimes he calls you — and then he drives over. Sometimes you pretend you need something fixed, sometimes it’s a jar lid that's stuck, one time it was your bedside table that was jammed — but him coming over to introduce himself to your 70 year old neighbour is highly, highly unlikely.

So when you got the card, maybe you should have thought twice about why his name was on it — but you didn’t. You were on your way out and Mrs. Mabel had left it taped to your door. You slid it into your purse, and then when you got home, you had put it down on your countertop with the thought of opening it after putting away the few groceries you had bought.

Then you just forgot about it for the night. A candle was lit, the lights were dimmed, and Eddie was speed dialed.

When he showed up, you were pouring drinks for the two of you in your kitchen — that’s when he saw the card.

“Oh?” he hummed, smiling as he slid his finger along the edge of the rustic brown coloured envelope, picking it up. “What's this?”

“Oh yeah!” you remembered. “Mrs. Mabel dropped that off earlier, I forgot to open it. It's a christmas card,” you beamed.

“Well, good thing you waited. It’s addressed for both of us,” he winked.

You didn’t understand the wink.

You didn’t understand why he was so smug either, and you didn’t ask, you were too distracted by the kitschy card, with drawings of cats wearing Santa hats wishing you and Eddie a ‘Meowy Christmas’ and a ‘Purrfect New Year’.

It was only after drinks were drunk, your bedroom was visited, and Eddie said something odd, that you started to question what exactly he meant.

His skin was still dewy where you laid your head on his chest. Both of your breaths were labored. His hand was splayed across your back, feeling extra warm.

“So… I take it that all your neighbours know my name?” He said it like he was teasing you. You didn’t understand why, but it seemed loaded.

“No? Why would they all know your name?”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, and you could hear the mischief in his smile. He was up to something, but your eyelids were heavy, and his hand started to rub up and down your spine, and with the way your body vibrated, you could not have cared less. Whatever he was getting at could wait.

And it did wait — one whole week. Then you finally understood, and you really cared — because what the fuck.

He came over earlier than usual. He hadn’t even called, he just showed up, and with flowers. Flowers. Eddie doesn’t give you flowers, he gives you orgasms. That’s what you thought this thing was between the two of you — nothing more than late night hookups. Not flowers.

And then he dropped the bomb that he was making you dinner. Dinner. He was being so sweet, and he brought you flowers, and he was making you dinner. You can’t even remember a time where you had seen him before the sun set. Flowers. Dinner.

As he found his way through your kitchen, he made sure to get in every little touch and graze possible, even ones that were so obviously unnecessary. Like when you were washing vegetables at the sink. He pressed himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your body, caging you in against the sink, washing his hands in the most inconvenient position ever. It was incredibly inefficient, and it got the front of your shirt wet, but that was another thing. He peeled your shirt off you right in the kitchen. With a giggle — because this whole ordeal had left you undeniably smitten — you complained that the cotton of your shirt was cold and stuck to you, so his solution was to spin you around and lift it right up from your waist, up your chest, and over your head.

As the fabric passed over your face, you shut your eyes, only to open them to Eddie pressing a kiss to your lips. The shirt was thrown to the floor, his hands found your cheeks, and you were walked backwards until your bum pressed to the countertop. His body pressed to yours, his belt buckle jutting in the bare skin of your belly, his shirt sticking to the lace of your bra. He kissed you stupid right in the middle of your kitchen.

When you thought you were moving onto the next part of the night — forgoing dinner and heading straight to the bedroom — you were wrong.

“What’ya doing?” he murmured against your mouth. You had reached around him, blindly finding and spinning the burner off.

“Making sure my apartment doesn’t burn down.”

“It won’t. We’re right here.” He pressed a string of new kisses to your lips, and you could feel his smile through every single one.

Your makeout session did not move to the bedroom.

When the timer went off, he parted from you with a final peck to your lips, and ‘for good measure’, another one to your cheek. From there on out, you… you were useless. Just a pair of wobbly legs being ordered around by a thoughtless brain. You spilled things, and knocked things over, and clattered dishes, and eventually Eddie put you on watch duty — or as he put it, ‘sit there and look pretty’ duty.

It didn’t get better either. He kept looking at you. Looking at you with dark eyes that you know too well. Dark eyes that felt deeper than anything you’ve felt before. Dark eyes that made your stomach swirl and your thighs clench. Dark eyes that you wanted in the bedroom, right now.

You tried to get him in the bedroom. From your spot sitting on the countertop, you tried to hook a pointed foot around his thigh as he stirred honestly over a steaming pan. You tried to give him the same eyes back. You tried — oh god, you tried.

And you know what he did? He set the table. Lit a candle, set out glasses, lined up forks and knives. Got you a new shirt to wear. Filled your plates, got you both napkins, pulled your chair out for you.

You wanted him more than anything.

And then you got him.

The table was never cleared. Clothes were shed before either of you were past your bedroom door. Your hands were tugging at his boxers, and you wanted to show him how much you appreciated his kindness — how much you enjoyed the impromptu flowers and dinner.

He had other plans.

He laid you down and spread you out. Put his mouth to use — held both your hands as he did it too. It had your chest squeezing in a soft way, and your hips moving in a way you could not control.

“Eddie,” you moaned, as he licked at your sensitive spot, pushing you just over the point of too much pleasure. You already came once but he decided that you deserved much more than that.

“Am I making you feel good?”

“Mhm, so good, Eddie — fuck,” you gasped as your pleasure quickly became overstimulating. He rearranged your intertwined mess of hands, taking both of yours in one of his, freeing up the other to move down your body and meet his mouth at your core.

Two fingers were pushed into your already convulsing cunt. You barely had a moment to come down, and he was barreling past that point, moving you onto your next orgasm. His fingers curled, and your whole body tensed.

“Eddie — E-Eddie,” you said, voice rising as your hips began to buck, thighs jerking.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Eddie,” you whined, like it was a real answer and not just his name. Like he should know what he's doing to you — and he does, but to your ignorance, this is exactly what he wants.

“I know — I know, feels good, huh?”

And it did. His fingers felt great, but him properly filling you up felt better. As soon as he sunk his length into you, you were a goner.

With your legs folded, ankles sitting over his shoulders, blankets gathered where you fisted them in your hands, and your toes curled tightly, Eddie fucked you. Sincerely, amorously, hard.

Every snap of his hips to yours, every crude, wet noise, every creak of the bed, was hidden well beneath the way you panted and whined — and Eddie just goaded you on.

“Yeah? Right there? That's where it feels good?”

“Yes, right — right there,” you answered devotedly.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Tell me how you want it,” he grunted, bringing a soft hand to your cheek and running it upwards, pushing back the baby hairs on your forehead.

“Harder,” you answered, meeting his gaze.

“Harder…?’ He smiled, trailing off to prompt you. Just as he did, he let his hips find yours with extra vigour, grinding upwards into you, his cock pressing right against your g-spot with the perfect angle to get a full-body reaction from you. He continued, rolling his hips in a quick rhythm, giving you exactly what you asked for, harder.

“Eddie,” you gasped, body being pressed up the mattress with the sheer force of his thrust.

“You like saying my name don’t you? Hm? Sounds so pretty when you say it.”

You should have put it together right there. But you didn’t. You just got louder.

“Eddie — fuck — Eddie!”

“I know. I got you, baby,” he replied, eyes never leaving your face as he purposefully did exactly what he needed to do to get his intended reaction from you.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”

One final press of his pelvis to your sensitive clit, one final graze of his cock to that special spot inside of you, one final gasp of his name, and you were coming. Coming harder than you had tonight, harder than you ever had in your whole life.

You wished you could have stayed in that moment forever.

Pleasure coursing through you, spreading everywhere from your ten fingers to your ten toes, your mind blank apart from the pure adoration you had for the man who laid overtop of you, cumming inside of you at that very moment. The man who surprised you and brought you flowers and cooked you dinner.

Oh, and not to mention how, in that moment, you were so blissfully ignorant to a spectacularly embarrassing fact. So naive, so ignorant. So stupid.

Eddie was a sweetheart. Continued to be a sweetheart, actually. After giving the two of you time to settle, he eventually got up, helped clean you up, cleaned himself up, and then got back into bed with you to cuddle. Cuddling has been a normal thing for the two of you, but his smile as he cozied up close to you, with the way his lips rounded at the corners, and his dimples were so deeply set, it was not the normal, bliss-filled, post-orgasm smile. It was different, it was mischievous, and a touch unsettling.

“What?” you eventually caved, smiling back at him as he gave you a dramatic side eye paired with a raised brow — he's been waiting for you to ask him what's on his mind.

He grinned at you, canines poking out with all his glee. He dropped his head to your fluffed pillow, tugged you in closer, and looked at you like he was about to spill some hot, gossipy pillowtalk.

“Think all your neighbours know my name now?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, weaving together in the centre, because what does that have to do with anything? ‘What?’ sat on the tip of your tongue, but just as he wiggled his brow, giving you a pointed look, waiting for you to put it all together, it finally hit you. It hit you like a brick to the head. A brick to the head off of a three story building. Beyond painful.

The reason Mrs. Mabel, dear, sweet, elderly, Mrs. Mabel knew Eddie’s name to write it on your Christmas card: thin walls, his talent, your loud mouth.

“No,” you gasped, jaw dropping.

“No?” He scrunched his forehead upwards, eyes widening, leaning in even closer to you to absorb the full extent of your shock. “Because I think they do,” he smirked, voice rising with amusement. Finding your waist under the blankets, he curled his fingers into your flesh. You squirmed, grabbing his hand and holding him still. This is serious.

“Eddie,” you frowned, squeezing his hands before pushing them out from under the blankets and away. He let you, watching you through bright eyes, loving every minute of your humiliation.

“Yes, sweetheart, that is my name,” he practically sang.

“That’s so embarrassing.” You let your body shrink into the mattress, turning to hide your face in the pillow. You whined out a long groan, ridding your body of every ounce of breath in your lungs. If you were a lucky person, you would have suffocated. Died right there and rid yourself of all your mortal shame.

“Nobody complained, I think they’re fine with it.” His hand became a heavy weight of your waist, coaxing you out from the pillow while rubbing your back.

“I’m not fine with it,” you said abruptly, nearly giving yourself whiplash as you turned your neck to look at Eddie. “Mrs. Mabel… she… she — ”

Eddie finished your sentence — “She gave us a Christmas card. She’s not upset,” he smiled, leaning in once again, this time to press a kiss to your forehead.

He's wrong. You know it, but you don't have the will to fight it. So instead you rolled your eyes, sighing as you laid your head back down to your pillow.

“You’re so annoying.”

“Oh really?” Eddie teased, his mischievous tone contradicting the gentle way he pulled the blanket up for you, covering your shoulders and tucking it under your chin. “I don’t recall me being annoying a few minutes ago?” He took a deep inhale. “Eddie! Eddie! Eddie —” he began to chant, voice pitched up mockingly, volume way too loud.

“Shush,” you scolded him, jumping forward, fighting to free your arms from the blanket to smack both of your hands over his mouth. His voice vibrated behind your palms, and his laughter stuck to your skin as you forcibly shut him up.

Your neighbours clearly already knew his name, but if they didn’t, they definitely do now.

thank you for reading! happy holidays <333333

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader smut

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seafoamreadings · 2 days ago

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week of december 22nd, 2024

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: there is still some ongoing nodal weirdness for you, showing you what obstacles on your path to clear and how, or perhaps doing it for you. and a new moon late this week (and into early next) helps you to form new goals and intentions around career or your reputation.

taurus: with mercury now safely direct, and opposing jupiter, this can be a good time for investments and sharing resources. just be warned that there is still some time in the so-called shadow period, and things may not go perfectly smoothly. still, the jupiter influence is positive.

gemini: jupiter is in your sign and your ruling planet mercury is in jupiter's home sign. while this is mostly a positive situation you may also encounter some mild misunderstandings this week so try to remain patient.

cancerians: a slightly wistful quality saturates the space around you. it's not exactly sad, but it has a sweet melancholy flavor to it. the moon is waning and especially at the end of the week you might find yourself a little bit obsessive, unable to focus on what really matters in favor of digging around in the past. try to let go. you're not leaving it behind forever, but you're at risk of missing a lot of wonderful things coming up later.

leo: don't save up all your goals to be new year's resolutions. this week is the perfect time to start a new habit, or end one that doesn't do you well. but you're responsible for generating your own glow this week, so even if you don't feel up for vanquishing all hard tasks, at least try not to wallow too much.

virgo: capricorn season suits you. go out of your way to have fun, without going too crazy. it's a dionysian sort of week ahead and it should be enjoyed without leading to regrettable consequences.

libra: strange fated occurrences continue with this week's ongoing nodal activations. this time the themes are centered more on challenging your egoic thoughts. not that you're full of yourself, but the ego in the sense of what your conditioning makes you. a lot of cardinal sign friction gives you some irritation and yet it leads to opportunities to change old patterns if you wish, or solidify them if you like what you have going on already.

scorpio: if you can afford to make an investment of some kind (and be honest with yourself about that, no rash decisions here!) it is a great week to do so. if you find you cannot afford it financially, think about what things are a good investment of your time, energy, or other resources.

sagittarius: this is a good week to start catching up on anything that fell behind in the last month or so. you also have a new moon coming up in your 2nd house, so it is the perfect time to start setting intentions and goals around money and your various resources. however, this should involve other people as little as possible at this time, outside of communications and transactions. no loans, debts, or shared bank accounts or real estate if you can help it.

capricorn: it's now capricorn season and the moon is waning to newness it won't quite perfect until next week. so while it's certainly not a bad idea to think and plan and scheme, hold off on really planting any seeds until at least the weekend.

aquarius: there are two aspects this week of mutual reception and one of them involves venus in your sign squaring your ruling planet uranus. the other is all good news, and this one isn't horrible either, but you may experience some clashes of values especially where your family of origin is concerned.

pisces: mercury retrograde may seem to have lasted longer for you than others, or to have restarted itself some how. it's due to a square with saturn in your sign if so. don't push yourself to think faster than you are naturally doing, and don't force communications that aren't going through. it'll all straighten out soon enough.

watch the transit posts in real time to have the best guide through your week. want a little more? have a look at my patreon or ko-fi.

check out my etsy for a private reading or dm or email me ([email protected]) to set up a reading through venmo, cashapp, or paypal.

#horoscopes #horoscope #weekly horoscopes #weekly horoscope #astrology #zodiac #signs #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

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asarajaa · 2 days ago

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Hiiiii Sarah, I'm one of your new followers and I just wanted to say that, I LOVED the Wally West x Reader angst fic (it had me screaming into a pillow) you wrote a while back !!!

I do have request tho , would you maybe be willing to write a part 2 of that fic? It was just sooo good and I couldn't get it out of my head

Tysm my love!! I wasn't very sure about how it turned out but your comment really hyped me up 💗. Of course! ty for following me and I hope this reach your expectations!!

Warnings: fem!reader, angst romance, forbidden love, reincarnation (?) Words: 2338 Disclaimer: English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

You always liked cats.

They were cute and fluffy, but what you liked the most was the myth that cats were able to live 9 lives.

Of course, your logical and trained superhero mind knew that such a thing as reincarnation had very little chance of happening and much less with cats, but you liked to fantasize about it anyways.

You would catch yourself constantly thinking about it, 9 lives. 9 different whole lives, what would you do with those? The answer, for you, was obvious.

You would plan your 9 lives, thinking about what you would do and with who. Maybe you weren’t a superhero in one, maybe you were just a normal civilian, maybe you liked to do snorkeling and once and for all stopped fearing the ocean.

Yeah, that would be what you’d do in your first life.

You would spend your first life snorkeling, feeling all the different textures of sea animals and organisms. Maybe you would get bitten or harmed by one and needed medical attention and as you would be lying in the hospital’s bed, sedated with medication, you would no longer fear the sea and lived near to it for the rest of your first life.

And then, after your accident, maybe you could even have a date with the cute doctor that laughed but thanked you when you said— high as a comet— that his eyes were the most beautiful jewels you’ve ever seen, they reminded you of emeralds.

In your second life you would be born in a word without any type of powers or superheroes, you would decline your mothers wish of being model and choose a peaceful and quiet life, studying mechanical engineering because your dream job would be to be a F1 driver— but you would settle for being the person who designs the cars they’d drive, if being a driver didn’t work out.

At night, when the world was supposed to be asleep, you would sneak into the underworld and spend your nights racing illegally, a big smile on your face— because you never knew why or how, but going super fast without any other feelings besides adrenaline made you feel happy and free.

You would laugh while you drove at full speed, the tires would squeal and the car would give off a toxic smell of CO₂ that would seep into your lungs. You would love the feeling of the adrenaline running through your veins and your heart racing as much as your car, the air brushing your hair because you’d like to leave the car windows open while you’d drive.

Then, one night, for the first time, you would be defeated by a new guy that just moved into your town. He would be the new Drift King that would make you eat the ground for the first time in a long time. The thought of your next race would make your face lighten up because since that day, you wouldn't stop thinking about new techniques to defeat and take your place as the Drift Queen back from that damned new guy who’s hair looked like a forest in the autumn season.

In your third life you would be an absolute fan of superheroes. You would help your twin brother, Dick Grayson, to fight at night being his computer specialist. You would also help your father figure, Batman, and whoever he asked you to help to.

You loved superheroes, but you could never be one, never. The job was too risky, you needed to be the one who would take care of them from the comfort of your house, being a type of online vigilante that even though it technically could train and fight goons, would never try to.

You would help Alfred with the cooking and assist your brother and father figure when they would train, handing them towels and bottles of water when necessary. You even learned medical assistance under the wing of Alfred, being too afraid to lose your new family member like you did a time ago in a circus.

You would help your family and some years later, when the death of your younger brother and the moving of your twin one would be too much to handle, you would find yourself moving too.

You would escape far away, leaving all the things you’ve known behind and trying to create a normal life with normal acquaintances.

But it couldn’t be that easy, could it? What was the saying? Once a vigilante, always a vigilante. It seemed like troublesome things would be attracted to you like magnets.

So, taking that into account, you weren’t very surprised when a robbery attempt happened in your local bank.

You would act calm—the teachings of Bruce sunk in your mind like roots—as you followed the criminals orders, all the time tricking them into perceiving you as submissive as you would subtly protect the rest of the civilians. Technically you were a civilian too, but it wasn’t the same, you had more than basic training that Batman taught you that you followed since a kid.

But before anyone could get hurt, The Flash entered the building, saving all of them in a flash. You would observe him, Wally West, the new Flash and your twin brother's best friend save all of you.

Wally and you have never been that close, the only reason you guys got along was because of Dick but when he moved to Bludheaven and you moved to Central, at some point, the calls and the messages stopped.

You tried to brush it off but the truth was that you missed your twin brother, you missed your father father figure, you missed Alfred and you were secretly excited to meet the new young boy—Tim, if you recall—that entered the family.

You sometimes envied Wally, since your brother always hung out with him and for some years, Wally West has known most things about your brother than you, even know, he probably still talked and meet him while you would only stare at your shared chat—one that has been silent for some time—in silent, waiting for a magical text to appear.

The Flash came into your way, not even looking at you as he moved his hands to untie your hands, your heart raced as you thought if he would remember you.

“You okay, ma’am?” he would ask calmly in a i’m-comforting-a-civilian voice.

“Yeah, thanks” you would answer, your heart skipping a beat when his head raised quickly, eyes wide open as he looked at you. His eyes comparing you to the version of you that he remembered, surprised written all over his face like if he didn’t expect to see you.

You would thought that he reacted like that because he didn’t knew you moved here, which made you ask yourself why Dick didn’t tell him. Maybe he stopped caring for you after all?

He stumbled over his words but the only thing you had in your mind was—

Oh, he still got a constellation drawn in his face.

Months passed and after encountering him a lot of times because of superhero type of problems, he finally would ask you to grab a coffee with him to "catch up".

In your fourth life you probably would run away.

You would travel the word and meet places you never thought they would exist until you landed on them. You would block all of the persons you once knew, breaking the expectations your family had for you—maybe you would listen to them in another life, who knows.

In your fourth life you would be in every city for a while but you never stayed long enough to make stable friends, you would be surrounded by different people from different cultures, cities and personalities but you would be completely and utterly alone cause none of them would be a person you would trust your life with.

In your loneliness you would adopt a big and fluffy dog and raise it by yourself, making it travel the world with you and stay by your side to the point where it would watch you take your last breath on this earth.

In your fourth life you would never be able to find him, to find the right person and who was meant for you. You weren’t ready and since being ready is a decision, you would decide that you’d never be. You wouldn’t even give anyone the chance to approach you in the fear of disappointing them so you always left before they could get the chance to do it.

In your fifth life you listened to your family’s advice.

You would take your family out of poverty, you’d retire your parents after you studied a career you didn’t like at all, fulfilling the dream they asked your older brother to do before he runned away .

You would get a job that would make you work from 8 to 6, you would make a stable income and settle down with a man you’re not very sure you’re in love with but he would be a good father to your children.

You would buy a house near the beach, where you would take your children to do snorkel under your teaching while your husband would reading a book as he laid down in the sand after he took your children to collect ‘sea treasures’, as they liked to called them, before you took them to do snorkel.

You would forgive some infidelities for the sake of your family and would kill yourself yourking to make sure your children had everything they needed, unlike you did when you were their age.

You weren’t completely happy and you were sure your younger self would feel a little disappointed of you, but you didn’t have a bad life and some women had worse family issues.

Sometimes, when your kids were swimming in the seashore and your husband went for a walk when his phone began to ring, you would stare into the little golden sea star necklace your childhood best friend gave you for your birthday right before you moved from Central City to Star City.

You would smile at the memories of that little boy who always was up to a race with the other kids, remembering how you promised to marry each other at 30 if none of you had a couple for that time and how you exchanged gifts, he’d gave you a golden sea star necklace and you would gave him a golden thunderbolt bracelet because he always said something like—“I’m as fast as a flash!”

You’d wonder who that little boy was nowadays, what his job was and what happened to his life.

In your next 2 lifes you would be lost.

You wouldn’t know what to do with your life or with whom. You would have a nostalgic, beautiful but painful feeling everytime you walked into nature because the color green meant something to you, reminded you of someone you just couldn't make yourself remember to who.

You would have the same feeling everytime the sun would express itself through sunrise and sunset, because the mix of those warm colours would remind you of a love you weren’t capable of remembering having felt before.

It would happen everytime you would see a ginger, no matter if it was a boy or girl. Your heart would begin to race for no known reason as you would wait for them to turn around, feeling disappointed when they weren’t who you expected them to be—but it wasn’t like you knew who you were expecting either.

You would feel empty because you desire something with all of your heart but you never knew what it was.

In one life, you would find it.

In the another one, you wouldn’t.

Then you would reach your eighth life— the one you prayed you were living.

In your eighth life, you and Wally would find a cure to the reaction of your abilities combined.

You would cry tears of joy when time passed and none of you could feel any difference from the first minute you guys started to be near each other.

Wally would kiss you all the time he could, a smile on his face because no matter how many minutes he would be by your side, his body didn’t slow down.

You would make your relationship public, receiving blessings from all the people you’ve known and approving smiles from both of your mentors.

In your eighth life you two would marry each other properly, a big ceremonie for all your known ones and then a little dinner for the closest ones. You would wear your ring proudly in your finger instead of hiding it in a necklace under your shirt.

You would travel the world together for a year after your marriage before settling down on the outskirts of Central City, leaving behind the apartment on the second floor you guys shared before in the centre of the city.

You would have children, two twin boys that were as handsome as their daddy and a little girl that was as beautiful as her mommy.

In your eighth life, your self being wouldn’t be a threat to the other one. You know your eighth life is like this because sometimes you dream about it, and it feels so real that you almost start to think "this is the bad dream" but that is your reality.

But you don’t have 9 lives, you only have one.

This one.

So I guess you will pass it sneaking around, always close but never close enough, always fearing the consequences of being loved by someone who isn’t supposed to love you back,

You only had one life, this one, but you like to think that the universe couldn’t be cruel enough to not allow you and Wally a happy ending in at least one.

You only had one life and you would spend it praying for another one.

Hope you liked it 💗 If you prefer to be a happy ending, you could just imagine like the 8th life was the current life 😽alte

Remeber that if you wanna get tagged everytime I post something, go to my pinned post>taglist>chose the fandom you want to get tagged in!

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be-compromised · 14 hours ago

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Secret Santa 2024 Masterlist

Thank you to everyone who took part in this year’s holiday fic exchange, from writers to beta readers to all you lovely people who leave comments. With an especial shout out to our heroic pinch hitters, @alphaflyer, @caiti-creative-corner, and @cassiesinsanity !

All gifts and authors have now been revealed, both on AO3 and on the masterlist (here and on dreamwidth). You’re now free to post, share, and link to your gifts wherever you like! If you could in some way link back to the exchange or the community, to direct people to all of the other wonderful fics as well, that would be appreciated.

If you feel inspired to fill any other prompts, or create stocking fillers or non-participant fills, please feel free. These just won’t be included as part of the Secret Santa exchange or on the masterlists.

From all your be_compromised mods, we hope you have a happy holiday season and wish you all the best for the new year. See you in 2025! ~ inkvoices, gsparkle & CloudAtlas 💜

Ain’t A Saint by @inkvoices for @huntress79 Mature; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton/James Barnes, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff/James Barnes Summary:“I lead a group of immortals. Soldiers, like you. Two of us have already been experimented on - tortured - and I need you to come with me and get in the goddamn car, because it might already be happening to someone else right fucking now." Natasha, Clint, and Bucky dream of a new immortal. Meanwhile, a Stark Industries research vessel has found the Valkyrie. An Old Guard AU.

A Christmas Invitation by @caiti-creative-corner for Hurt_loves_comfort Teen & Up; Clint Barton & Natasha Romanoff Summary: Natasha might be stubborn, but Clint could wait her out . . . and he had good reason to be patient.

A Kiss for Luck by @cassiesinsanity for @firlalaith Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: A number of random, shared kisses that lead to one special kiss on New Year's Eve.

A Russian Lullaby by @iriel3000 for @chaed Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, various friendships Summary: Based on the prompt by Chaed: “Clint isn't the only one haunted after New York. Natasha struggles with unexpected Hulk PTSD.” Ever wonder how "Natasha, we need a lullaby" originated? Clint thinks Natasha is hiding an injury but soon discovers it’s more.

At the Rose & Quill by @caiti-creative-corner for @cassiesinsanity Gen: Clint Barton/Laura Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton & Kate Bishop Summary: Serenity and knowledge go hand-in-hand at the Rose & Quill, and Laura loves the serenity it brings her odd little family.

Backstage @scaarletwiitch for @mondstadtlover6000 Gen; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: Clint is struggling in his role on the technical crew for this year's production of the Nutcracker. Natasha arrives as a guest artist with the ballet company, feeling like an outsider.

Be More Obvious about It by @firlalaith for @heroofshield Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: Clothes say a lot about a person.

City Kid by Hurt_loves_comfort for @delektorskichick Gen; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Yelena Belova/Kate Bishop, Alexi Shostakov/Melina Vostokoff Summary: Natasha Romanov has been living in the city and doing ballet since she was four. What happens when an injury sends her to the countryside where she meets one Clint Barton?

Collecting Strays by Ultra for @inkvoices Teen & Up; ambiguous relationships - Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, James Barnes Summary: He hasn't known her long, but he's known her long enough. When Strike Team Delta are sent to take out the Winter Soldier, all Nat has to do is blink, and once again, Clint finds himself making a different call.

Earworm by @delektorskichick for @paperairplanesopenwindows Gen; Clint Barton/Laura Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton/Laura Barton Summary: In a world where whatever song your soulmate gets stuck in their head also gets stuck in yours, Laura Barton has the unfortunate luck of getting a soulmate who loves those stupid, annoying commercial jingles. What's even more annoying is when it will randomly shift to classical ballet music. Laura's soulmate is so dead when she finally meets them. Note: Soulmates in this can be romantic or platonic, so it can be read either way as far as Natasha goes.

Faces of Ghosts by @paperairplanesopenwindows for @icantopenwaterbottlecaps Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary:"Were you aware that Yelena's sister is my ex-girlfriend or was I just supposed to find that out when I complimented her costume myself?" "Huh?" America asked, clearly confused. Clint noticed that Yelena seemed unsurprised by this information. "Yelena..." Clint groaned. She clasped her hands together in faux innocence. "Wow! What do you mean? You know my sister, Natasha?" "What the fuck, Yelena?" "I had no idea," she said fervently, but was clearly holding back laughter. "I had no idea at all. Otherwise, I definitely would not have invited you both to this party with no warning."

favorite parts by @mondstadtlover6000 for @endlesstwanted Gen; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: Clint and Natasha get sent on a vacation—no, a mission. They think it's a mission, anyway.

Hearts & Roses by @huntress79 for ufohnoparty (why_didnt_i_get_any_soup) Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff/James Barnes, background Clint Barton/Melinda May, various friendships Summary: Fresh off yet another breakup, passionate florist Clint Barton relocates himself from semi-rural Iowa to BedStuy in New York, where his first boss and best friend Phil Coulson has found a flower shop in dire need of a capable owner. What he doesn’t expect is that his neighbors, tattoo artists Natasha Romanov and Bucky Barnes, not only will be responsible for his first tattoo, but also turn his whole life upside down – in the most positive way.

is it to soon to do this yet? by @quidnunc-life for @archers-and-spies Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: “When I told you two to get to know each other through a fun common interest,” says Coulson, “I meant watch an episode of Dog Cops or something. Not blow a city up together.” Or: Everyone knows Natasha hates Clint, but if they want to be a STRIKE team, something has to change.

i thought the plane was going down (how'd you turn it right around?) by @archers-and-spies for @cloud--atlas Gen; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: Being a weather witch is all fun and games, until you're seated next to the girl you walked out on ten years ago. Clint has the worst luck.

of dance cards and suitors by @icantopenwaterbottlecaps for Ultra Gen; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: “How about love?” he asks. Natasha tilts her head at Clint, an errant red curl falling from her elegant coiffure as she waits for him to elaborate. “Won’t you marry for love?” Or: a Clintasha Regency AU

Operation: Incoming by @alphaflyer for @scaarletwiitch Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Alexi Shostakov/Melina Vostokoff, Yelena Belova & Kate Bishop Summary: Natasha puts the phone down with a deep sigh and turns to Clint, with a look that’s a mix of apology and abject terror. “Incoming! Alexei and Melina are coming to New York and want to spend Christmas with us. They’re arriving tomorrow.”

Solecism by ufohnoparty (why_didnt_i_get_any_soup) for @iriel3000 Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Natasha Romanoff & Steve Rogers Summary: Natasha and Steve are on a mission together in Budapest. Things quickly go south and Steve doesn't know what to do when Natasha is gravely injured. She tells him to call her husband. What husband?

Something So Magic by @heroofshield for @caiti-creative-corner Gen; Clint Barton & Natasha Romanoff Summary: Sometimes the most unlikeliest of friendships are formed in a disappearing coffee shop.

The Mastermind vs. The Master Assassins by @cassiesinsanity for @alphaflyer Mature; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: Its driving Tony nuts trying to figure out the deal with Clint & Natasha, so he recruits some friends to help him find out.

Two To Tango (Or Kate Bishop’s Guide to Helping Your Mentor Realize He’s In Love with his Partner) by @alphaflyer for @quidnunc-life Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Yelena Belova/Kate Bishop, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Summary: “These two are such idiots. Why don’t they just admit that they are crazy about each other?” Kate and Yelena see a problem and set out to fix it.

#secreta santa 2024 #secret santa 2024 masterlist #fanfic #marvel #clintasha #clint barton #natasha romanoff #hawkeye #black widow #and friends #happy holidays all!

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azuredawn81 · 1 day ago

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cherry jubilee with macklin!!!

'tis the damn season taylor

road not taken | macklin celebrini x ex gf!reader

♡ summary: everyone dated someone in elementary school. these relationships never lasted. macklin and y/n were no different. after all, their “dates” were just going to the park and drinking caprisuns or sitting on his couch watching pokemon. their “relationship” was just playing together at recess and y/n giving a short kiss on the cheek after his games. but even after their “break-up”, they were still good friends, until he moved in 2019. it’s been years now, with no contact, but now he’s coming back to vancouver to play the canucks.

♡ pairing: macklin celebrini x reader

♡ content: fluff, angst, insecure!macklin

♡ word count: 3k

♡ warnings: none

♡ prompt: ‘tis the damn season - taylor swift

♡ note: this was written with interspersed breaks of holiday inflatables.

♡ taglist: @devilinpradaheels @Summert158 @lekkerfrikandelletje @camiesully

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“so, hometown game,” will began, “how are you feeling?”

“i don’t know. it’s been my goal to be in the nhl, but now, i’m playing against my childhood team.”

“on your other childhood team.”

“the sharks don’t count.”

“i mean, you were a kid when you moved here.”

“the sharks don’t count.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

macklin sat on the couch, with y/n. it had been such a big day. they had just wrapped up sixth grade, the end of elementary school.

“whatcha thinking about?” she asked, looking up from where she nestled at his side.

“us.”

“specifically?”

“i don’t know. i just like being your friend.”

“i like being your friend too.”

“it’s nice.”

“remember when we got married in your backyard?”

“y/n, don’t remind me.”

“you called me mrs celebrini for a month, until you forgot.”

“didn’t you ask aiden to help you divorce me?”

“maybe.”

“but look at us now.”

“do you wanna go run in the sprinkler.”

“is that even a question?”

she grabbed his hand and they ran next door to her house, into her backyard. her little sister was already playing in the sprinkler, overjoyed to see y/n and macklin.

it was going to be a nice summer.

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

he had grown used to the mics all around him, all the time. that was the nature of being 1st overall, a star rookie, a standout player. he had grown used to the world knowing all about his life, his family, feeling like they were entitled to know more than what was already out on the internet.

“macklin! how do you feel about playing the canucks tomorrow?”

”were you excited about going to california?”

“did you miss vancouver?”

“are you excited to be back?”

“i never wanted to leave.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

“macklin, you’re so weird.”

“no, i’m not!”

“yeah, you are. you’re always with y/n.”

“and?”

“is she your girlfriend or something?”

“not anymore.”

“not anymore? so not even she wants to date you?”

“it’s not like that!”

“do you wish you were dating her?”

“i- she’s my best friend!”

“guys, macklin’s in love with y/n!”

“no, i’m not!”

“loser!”

macklin was quiet the whole car ride home from practice. everything said was true. he was weird. y/n was not his girlfriend anymore. not even she wanted to date him. he did wish he was dating her. he was in love with y/n.

“mom?”

“yes, dear?”

“how did you know you were in love with dad?”

“well, we went to school together and he was just super sweet.”

“would you be sad if he had moved?”

“macklin.”

“mom, it’s an honest question.”

“of course i would’ve been sad. he might not have gotten the chance to tell me how he felt.”

macklin let out a quiet sob. clearly, his situation was hopeless.

“what’s wrong, dear?”

“we’re moving in a few months. and i’ll be in c-california and y/n will be here.”

“i know she’s your friend, but you can make more friends down there.”

“mom, i have a crush on y/n!”

“oh my. now, that’s different.”

“and i can’t do anything about it because we’re moving!”

“mack, don’t start that. you know how much your father’s new job will help our family.”

“i’m her best friend too! she’ll have no one!”

“that’s not true. y/n is a little social butterfly.”

“i can’t leave her here.”

“i get that you’re having all these feelings, but you’re 12. you’ll meet other girls.”

“they aren’t her.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

macklin sat on his bed in the hotel in vancouver. will was setting up his toiletries in the bathroom.

“it’s nice of them to let us stay a little bit after,” will said, trying to lighten the mood.

“yeah.”

“mack, are you okay? you’ve been moping this whole time.”

“it’s weird, will. this was my team. some of these guys were playing when i still lived here. i’ve seen quinn hughes play here.”

“and now you’re playing against him.”

“it’s weird!”

“there’s something else bugging you.”

“i’m fine.”

“mack, you can talk to me. we’re best friends.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

mom: look what i found

mom: attachment: one image

mom: i heard she’s going to be there

mack: ok?

mack: i haven’t talked to her since middle school.

mack: i don’t care.

mom: don’t give me that

mom: you two were best friends

mom: you should care a little bit

mack: i don’t

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

“c’mon, let’s go explore.”

“i don’t need to explore. i know this city.”

“how long has it been since you’ve been back? c’mon, macklin, let’s go.”

“fine.”

macklin and will made their way out of the hotel, ready to go out on the town.

“do you think you’ll recognize anyone?”

“i hope not.”

will must’ve spoken that into being or something, because right as they turned that corner, mack walked right into someone he knew.

“oh my god, macklin???”

“y/n?” his y/n. “are you okay?”

“yeah, i’m okay.”

“you guys know each other?” will asked, looking between y/n and mack.

“yeah… yeah, we do.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

macklin couldn’t breathe. y/n had her head on his shoulder, her hands fidgeting in her lap. they were laying in the grass of her backyard, looking up at the vancouver sky together for the last time.

“do you really have to go?”

“i’d stay if i could.”

“you could stay with my family.”

“i don’t think your dad would like that.”

“it’d be fine.”

“he’d make me sleep on the porch.”

“that’s better than you being in stupid sacramento.”

“san francisco.”

“doesn’t matter. it’s not vancouver. it’s not next to me.”

“it’ll be good for hockey.”

“really? leaving vancouver will be good for hockey?”

“i’m sorry, y/n.”

“it’s fine.”

“no, it’s not.”

“macklin, you leave tomorrow. i can’t do anything about it.”

he laced his fingers in hers. “i’m sorry.”

“do you want to spend the night?”

“tonight?”

“well, you won’t be here tomorrow night.”

the two kids giggled as macklin pulled y/n to her feet and they ran inside.

“mom!”

“what is it?”

“can macklin spend the night?”

“tonight?”

“mom, he’s leaving!”

“i suppose. make good choices.”

she took his hand and walked upstairs to her room, the fairy lights creating a warm, inviting feel.

“i don’t have my pajamas.”

“lucky for you, you can’t remember to bring your stuff home.”

y/n opened a drawer, full of his stuff.

“that’s where it all went!”

he took a hoodie and pair of shorts and went to the bathroom to change. y/n put on one of mack’s big shirts, the fabric swallowing her whole. his dad had bought it a few sizes big on accident and never got around to returning it.

“y/n? are you decent?”

“yeah!”

macklin came back in. “remind me to steal my clothes back.”

“nah.”

“you’re the worst.”

they climbed underneath the fluffy pink duvet and just couldn’t stop giggling. “you’re my best friend.”

“you’re my best friend too, mack. always have been.”

“always will be?”

“nah, you’re ditching me and for what? the sharks?”

“y/n, please be serious.”

“of course, you’ll always be my best friend. will i always be yours?”

“duh.”

and there they laid, in y/n’s bed. they just talked and talked, planning visits and to reunite after high school. macklin shared how nervous he was, how badly he wanted to stay with his team, his home, her. y/n listened, her fingers tracing flowers and stars on his arm.

“what if you forget me?”

“like anything else is worth remembering.”

“i’m being real.”

“i won’t. but i have a real concern about you forgetting me.”

“i could never.”

“whatever you say, mr. hockey star.”

“y/n, i could the next mcdavid and wouldn’t forget you.”

“you say that now.”

“not even crosby could forget someone like you.”

“i’m sure he did. cole harbour is a lot smaller than pittsburgh.”

“he definitely visits.”

“yes, but everyone knows crosby. everyone knows mcdavid. everyone knows gretzky.”

“no one knows celebrini.”

“they will. but no one knows l/n.”

“i do.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

somehow, he’d ended up across the table from y/n at a little coffee shop. her hair was longer, her cheekbones more defined. she was more grown-up, but at the same time, the same girl he left here.

“so, what are you doing back in vancouver?” he asked, not looking up from his water.

“winter break.”

“where are you going to school?”

“university of toronto. great psychology program.”

“nice. i’m here for the game.”

“i know.”

“you do?”

“everyone knows, macklin.”

“so you knew i was on the sharks?”

“i didn’t stop following hockey when you left.”

“you never said anything after the draft.”

“what would i have said? hey macklin, sorry i haven’t reached out since we were thirteen. congrats on going first.”

“that would’ve been something.”

“i’m not the one who gave up.”

“are you saying i did?”

“i’m saying maybe the u14 aaa junior sharks had a little something to do with it.”

“don’t act like that, y/n!”

“you know, i thought for the longest time, maybe hockey just kept you busy and i shouldn’t take it personally. but then i saw that blonde in all your posts.”

“y/n, you don’t get it.”

“this is stupid. why did i bother? you’ve changed, i’ve changed. can’t expect a guy to remember you when he’s got a new toy.”

she stood up and took her espresso with her. “bye mack.”

“no y/n, come back.”

“why?”

“you can’t villainize me for dating someone else. we were friends. and you definitely dated people too.”

“so, let’s call it even. fresh start. i’m here for a few days. let’s catch up, clean slate.”

“i’m going home. you know where to find me.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

“dude, you got a date or what?”

“or what?”

“is it with that girl.”

“yep.”

“who is she?”

“y/n l/n. my best friend.”

“ouch.”

“sorry, will, she came first.”

“bros before hoes, mack.”

“will, there’s pictures of us in her bathtub in her mom’s scrapbook.”

“damn.”

macklin took a look in the mirror to adjust his tie. “how do i look?”

“snappy.”

“i’ll see you around.”

“use protection!”

“shut up, dude!”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

he stood in front of that familiar house, with the cream walls, the wrap around porch, and the brown door. mrs. l/n’s lavender bushes were still bright and vibrant, even after all these years. he raised his fist and knocked on the door. mr. l/n opened it, his eyes wide in shock.

“macklin?”

“is y/n home?”

he turned inside. “y/n! you have a gentleman caller!”

y/n appeared shortly after, in a little black dress and satin pumps. her makeup was perfect and her hair was in a cute half-up, half-down.

“speak of the devil.”

macklin quickly hugged her, his strong arms wrapping around her waist. “missed you.”

“missed you too, big guy.”

“y/n, honey, did you arrange this?”

“yeah, we ran into each other earlier.”

“i see.”

“bye, dad.”

“make good choices.”

she stepped outside, her car keys in hand. she adjusted her purse on her shoulder and switched her keys to the other hand, so she could hold macklin’s.

“so, lily had to use the car for some outing with her boyfriend.”

“so…”

“we’re taking the truck.”

“that’s your dad’s baby!”

“i’m his baby, thank you very much.”

macklin helped y/n into the cab of the truck. “why’d he spring for such tall tires? he works in finance.”

“i barely understand the guy.”

she put the key into the ignition and put her bag in macklin’s lap. “thanks for being my passenger princess tonight.”

“yeah, your dad would kill me if i touched the wheel.”

after she turned the headlights on, she looked over at mack. in his eyes, she saw the same boy who held her hand under the stars, who threatened the playground bullies, who kissed her in order to steal the last cookie. she shook her head like an etch-a-sketch to erase the thought.

“where do you want to go?”

“we could just ride around.”

y/n put the truck in reverse and backed out of the driveway, turning onto the street.

“you’re trouble, celebrini.”

“yeah, but you love it.”

“i missed it.”

“what’d you do without me?”

“cried.”

“actually?”

“yeah.”

“i’m sorry.”

“blame your dad.”

“hey.”

“not like you wanted to leave anyway.”

“i missed you a lot too. california’s got nothing on you.”

“don’t lie.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

“y/n, did you hear?”

“hear what?” ”macklin’s supposed to be the top draft pick.”

“who?”

“celebrini? our old neighbor?”

“oh, him? cool, i guess.”

that was all anyone ever talked about. her mom, still close friends with robyn would never stop gushing about how great macklin was at hockey. the other people in her grade were thoroughly impressed that someone from little vancouver was going first, as if connor bedard hadn’t done it last year, as if macklin still lived here.

“didn’t you guys date?”

“yeah, in fourth grade.”

“but weren’t you friends?”

“not anymore.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

macklin celebrini and will smith - two peas in a pod

celebrini and smith - star rookies and best friends

will and macklin - how their friendship is shaping sharks hockey

“i can’t believe this.” y/n said, flopping onto the bed in her dorm. “i’ve truly been replaced.”

“when did you last see each other?” lena, her roommate asked.

“not the point.”

“what’s the point then?”

“he said i’d always be his best friend.”

“didn’t he say that he’d never forget you too?”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

macklin was chatting with will during warm ups when he noticed a sign with his face on it. the sign read “hey #71! i’ll trade you a kiss for a puck!” and had many, many hearts drawn on it.

he skated up to them and said “i need to see your face first!”

they dropped the sign reveal y/n. she made half of a hand heart, which macklin completed.

“meet me by the player tunnel after. name drop me. i’ll get you that kiss!”

“good luck! score a goal for me!”

“i’ll score five!”

macklin did, in fact, not score five goals. he scored two, which was good enough for y/n. she was let into the area by the locker rooms and waited patiently for macklin. eventually, he came out, his hair wet with water from his post game shower. his tie was askew, but that didn’t matter. this macklin - her macklin (not that she’d say that out loud) - looked the same as that macklin, the one who insisted she come to all of his games. he had that same glimmer in his eyes, the same smile when he saw her.

“so about that kiss?” she said, batting her eyelashes.

“i have something to say first.”

“i have something to say too.”

“one?”

“two.”

“three.”

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!”

“you are?”

“since when?”

“y/n, i’ve been in love with you since we were ten and you asked me to be your boyfriend after grayson julian said she wanted to be my girlfriend. i remember you saying you couldn’t lose your best friend to someone mean like her. i loved you through every bad test, every argument over google slides templates for projects, every mile we had to run in pe. i loved you every mile i flew away. i loved you with every goal i scored, every assist i did, every pass i made. i loved you in san francisco, i loved you in minnesota, i loved you in chicago, i loved you in boston, i love you in san jose, and i love you here, in vancouver, if you’ll have me.”

“macklin celebrini, i am so extremely mad at you.”

“you are?”

“you ghosted me a week after you landed in california!”

“i didn’t know how to manage a relationship at age 13, much less a long distance one!”

“you’re such an idiot.”

“i know, i feel really stupid.”

“but you’re my idiot.”

“i am?”

“mack, i’ve been in love with you since we were nine and we were drinking caprisuns on my couch. i couldn’t get the straw to poke a whole and you took the pouch and did it for me. i was in love with you when you lost games and tournies, when you got picked on for being bad at math, and when we watched the stars in the backyard. i never stopped loving you.”

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

macklin couldn’t breathe. y/n had her head on his shoulder, her hands fidgeting in her lap. they were laying in the grass of her backyard, looking up at the vancouver sky together.

“i didn’t want to leave. but i couldn’t stay.”

“mack…”

“if i could’ve stayed, i would’ve. i would’ve slept on your porch and given up hockey if i meant i could stay here, with you.”

“you don’t need to do that.”

“but i would. if i had a time machine, i’d go back and convince my parents to stay.”

“no.”

“what?”

“if you did, things would be different. yes, we might’ve dated in high school, but we also might’ve lost each other.”

“i guess you’re right.”

“aren’t you glad you kept your options open?”

“yeah,” he kissed her cheek, “i really am.”

“the road not taken is looking really good right now.”

“does it?”

“mhm… he’s tall with perfectly tousled hair and probably abs.”

“i’ve got abs.”

“prove it.”

“you’re terrible!”

“you love me!”

“yeah, i do.”

“we could just sleep out here.”

“it’s december in canada. we’re going inside.”

“sounds good, babe.”

“babe?”

“you like it?”

“love it.”

and with that, he took her hand, pulling her to her feet and into his arms. he slipped one hand behind her head, the other one to her waist.

“i think i still owe you that kiss.”

#౨ৎ azure writes <3 #azure's ice cream parlor <3 #nhl #nhl players #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #san jose sharks #sj sharks #sharks #macklin celebrini #mc71

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donteattheappleshook · 2 days ago

Text

Not Broken at All Chapter 18/?

Summary:

A season 1 Neverland AU. Emma is still trying to adjust to her new life as Sheriff of Storybrooke and mom to Henry, who still believes everyone in town is a fairytale creature. When she finds a badly beaten, one handed man while patrolling, she’s convinced he’s crazy. He is, after all, rambling about fairies and shadows and crocodiles. But when Henry is suddenly taken out the window of a house everyone believes is haunted, the madman in the hospital might be her only hope of getting her son back. Whether he likes it or not.

Rated E

Catch up on Ao3 (where my italics work) or on Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Oh hey! What's up everyone?

I know it's been a while (shocking) but it's Solstice today and the muse decided something needed to be posted for this fic in honour of the fairy orgies XD

This was written super fast and not really re-read because it's already 10pm so I'll probably edit it later but I'm giving it to you all now.

Happy Solstice and I hope you enjoy this chapter! <3

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Part 18

“Doesn’t look so bad,” Will shrugs when they stand outside the mouth of the cave the next morning. Emma and Wendy roll their eyes at the same time. It does look that bad. For a place called Echo Cave she’d had expected something bigger, something louder. But all she can see as they approach is a narrow tunnel in the rockface, no sound escaping from within. So she jumps when Tiger Lily’s voice suddenly comes from within.

“You’re late.”

“Apologies,” Killian nods. “The forest has changed a fair bit since I last made the journey - it took us longer than anticipated to find the path.”

“You have a habit of doing that,” Tiger Lily scoffs. “Misinterpreting time.”

The reply is so quick, and Killian’s sigh so exhausted, that Emma has to hold back a snort of laughter.

“We came as fast as we could.”

“Come then, let’s not delay any further. The others have gathered.”

“Who are the others?” Emma asks Hook quietly as they follow.

“The eldest of those who were here before Pan. They were barely more than children when it happened, but They have some memory of how things were.”

“I thought you said they’d forgotten all their magic.”

“We did not forget,” Tiger Lily snaps from the entrance. Emma watches as the faint, gold dusting of magic that covers their skin, the only light in the otherwise pitch black cave shimmers and slides over their arm, cascading like water down through their fingers that they trail along the rocky wall, leaving flecks of sparking, gold dust in their wake. “It was taken from us. Through slaughter and cruelty. When the children who were left behind grew enough to become a threat to Pan, we were forced to lock away what little we remembered or meet the same fate.”

Every time she thinks it can’t get worse, it does. The massacre of Tiger Lily’s people and the destruction of their history, the torture and killing of the Lorelei, the horror of the murder of those boys on the beach. There’s no end it seems to Pan’s cruelty, to his thirst for blood.

Emma reaches for the shimmering of light that remains along the wall, glittering and moving with the flow of the rough surface. It glows brighter beneath her touch and something swells from deep within her, rushing to meet it, warm and electrifying, before she yanks her hand back and stumbles the rest of the way though.

The walk is long, this cave buried deep in darkness and stardust. She’s not sure she even hears it at first, a small whisper of a voice from far away, the words too quiet to make out, but repeating. As they continue along and a dim light starts to appear in the distance, they grow louder. It’s a child’s voice, rolling against the walls of the cave - wish I’d never come here… just want to go home. Just want to go home. Just want to go home….

She feels Killian’s hand on the small of her back and realizes she’s stopped walking. “It’s alright, love. It’s just an echo. The last secret that was shared here.” She still hesitates, not wanting to get any closer to the haunting voice. “Whoever they were, they’re not here anymore.”

“His name was Ruffio,” Will says, nearly as quiet as the first echo. “He’s been gone a long time.” He only meets her eye for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing as though he hadn’t said anything. She can’t blame him. She knows by now that nobody in Neverland ever goes home. “Come on - we’ve got secrets to spill.”

The light ahead grows until finally they emerge into a massive cavern. The stone that surrounds them black onyx - gleaming faintly against the dust that covers the ceiling like a galaxy above them. The space feels boundless, endless like the darkness could go on forever and she’s reminded of their flight here, of the endless sea of stars they’d sailed in on.

There are four people standing in the center of the chamber on a platform of the same black onyx, all of them with the same sharp, androgynous features as Tiger Lily, all with the same loose-fitting clothes and cropped hair, and all with that same shimmer of living magic glowing faintly in the dark. Tink stands with them, waiting. None of them are any older in appearance than herself, but she knows better by now than to judge age or power by appearance on this island.

The Constant.

They follow the rest of the way to the narrow, stone bridge that connects the ledge to the platform on which the others stand. When Emma takes a step to follow Tiger Lily onto the bridge, Killian puts an arm out, halting her in her tracks. Emma watches, heart in her throat as the bridge crumbles after Tiger Lily, stone falling away behind every step until they reach the end and there’s no bridge at all.

“The Constant keep no secrets,” Killian explains. “The cave can’t compel anything from them. We, on the other hand…”

“Of course they don’t.” No wonder they wanted to use this place. Easy to make others share their deepest darkest secrets when you’ve got none of your own to divulge and nothing to risk. “What about Tink?” she asks, nodding at the fifth person standing with the Constant.

“The fey have wings.”

Right. “So how does this work?”

“From what I remember, you step out onto the edge and call out your secret. If it’s truly your darkest, the cave will echo it back to you.”

“And then we get across?”

“Aye, easy as that,” Killian attempts a smile, but it comes out as a wince. “I’ll go,” he offers though he looks like he’s dreading this as much as she is. She’s just thankful she doesn’t have to start. He lets out another sigh, bracing himself and then, “I kissed Emma.”

Fuck. Her heart drops into her stomach. He’s been a pirate for two hundred years - How the hell can his darkest secret have anything to do with her?

Will smirks. “Kissed? Is that what they’re calling it these days? And I think you’re forgetting that we were all there when she jumped you at Solstice.” His smirk deepens. “And when Emma came back all wet.” If Emma could reach him she’d smack him.

“I literally walked in on you,” Wendy deadpans.

“I’m not talking about Solstice,” he sighs, not rising to the bait. “It was…” She knows when it was. We’ll keep each other safe, they’d promised. She doesn’t need everyone else to know though. Not when she’s not even sure what any of it meant or what it means now. “It doesn’t matter,” Killian shakes his head. “It was what the kiss - what all of it - exposed.” Fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. “My secret is… I never believed that I’d be capable of letting go of my first love, of my Milah.” He breathes her name like a prayer and a wound. “To believe that I could find someone else.” His eyes lift to hers and it’s only by sheer force of will that she’s able to stop herself from taking a step back, from running away from the way he’s looking at her. Because she needs to hear this. They all do. If she wants to get across this fucking bridge, if she wants to talk to the fucking Constant, if she wants to get her son back - she needs to hear this secret as much as he needs to tell it. “That is, until I met you.”

She doesn’t know what to say or if she’s supposed to say something, can’t bring herself to look at Wendy or Will or look away from his eyes still burning into hers. And then before she even can do anything, Killian’s voice echoes through the cave, ‘until I met you’ called back to them like a ghost. A rumble follows as a section of the fallen bridge rises back from the depths below them, rock by rock, rebuilding itself.

Killian lets out a humourless laugh. “So, who’d like to go next?”

“I will.” Wendy stands with her shoulders straight, like she’s ready for a fight rather than a confession. Emma gets a sinking feeling in her stomach from the way she’s making herself look at Killian, with shame and guilt. He doesn’t look surprised - he looks like he expected this to hurt. “Sometimes… Sometimes I wish you’d never found me. Sometimes I wish you had just kept on walking that day when Pan left me to die.” She winces. “I’ll always be grateful to you for saving my life, for taking me in but…”

Killian nods when she hesitates, her eyes damp with unshed tears. “Go on, it’s alright.”

“You trapped me here, Hook. You’re the reason I have to live in this neverending nightmare. Forever. You knew what that water would do to me and I know you couldn’t ask but… you didn’t give me a choice. And I think that if I had one now - if I could have had a say in the next hundred years of my life… I’d rather you’d just let me die because this -” she gestures at herself, at everything around them. “It’s worse than death. And because of you I’ll never leave.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “I can’t even die if I want to. Not unless Pan decides that’s what he wants. You forced this life on me, Killian, you cursed me to live because it made you feel better and I don’t… I’ll never forgive you for that.”

Tears stain her cheeks now, jaw tight as she refuses to let any more follow and Emma can see the heartbreak on Killian’s face. “Wendy…” but she shakes her head and he stops the step he’d taken towards her.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes and he shakes his head this time. Her secret echoes around them like a taunt this time - ‘never forgive you for that’ - and another piece of the bridge rebuilds itself. The silence hangs between them, louder than any echo, until Will steps up.

“I suppose I should go next - while we’re on the topic of never being forgiven.” He takes his own steadying breath. “I’m dying.”

Wendy’s face falls. “... what?” It comes out cracked and small and frightened. “What do you mean you’re dying?”

The look Will gives her - there’s so much guilt there, so much pain and self-loathing and love. Emma may not know much about it but she can recognize it now in his eyes, in the way he looks at Wendy. “I lied when I told you I didn’t know what Pan did to my heart. I’ve seen him do it before.”

“One hundred years…”

Will nods, a self-deprecating smile falling flat. “I really hoped that I could keep it from you for a little longer. Neverland will slow it down but… he squeezed a hundred years from my heart. I’ll start aging faster - a lot faster - and pretty soon…”

“How long?” He hesitates a beat longer than Emma can handle - and Wendy… gods, she can’t imagine. “How long?”

“I’ll be dead in a few months - three, maybe four depending on how long I would have lived if I’d aged like a normal person but - I’m so sorry, Wen. I didn’t want to tell you, I -”

Whatever he was going to say and whatever she might have answered is stolen by the cave calling back to them in Will’s voice, ‘dead in a few months’. Nobody looks as the bridge puts itself back together, all of them too focused on the cruel revelation. He did it for her, Emma realises, for all of them but… he’s dying because of her. Wendy’s losing him because of her. Even Killian looks solemn at the news.

“Your turn, Emma,” Will chokes out with the palest attempt at levity she’s seen him manage since she met him. “Wouldn’t want to be left out of all the fun, would you?”

She looks out towards the chasm between them and the Constant. She doesn’t even know what she expected to confess, or what she’d hear confessed by those with her, and now, with the truth of Will’s fate hanging in the air, nothing feels like it matters in the grand scheme of things.

What even is her deepest secret? That she gave up Henry? That she had her heart broken by a selfish man who used her and then left her? That she spent a year of her life in jail? That she’s spent her whole life searching for the parents who left her behind? That between Neal and her parents she doesn’t think she could ever trust someone again - could ever let herself love someone again, or let them love her… That she might be anyway? None of it feels like enough; none of it even feels like a secret anymore, not since Henry found her and brought her to Storybrooke.

And then, like bile and sick, she feels something being forced up from her throat, words clawing their way to the surface and past her lips of their own volition. She can’t stop them. She doesn’t even know what she’s going to say until they come spilling out.

“I wish Henry had never come to find me. I wish he’d never brought me to Storybrooke.” The confession leaves her gasping, tears in her eyes as though she had been sick. She wants to be, hearing such a horrible truth being spoken out loud. Killian looks at her with sympathy, but she turns away from it. And once it’s started, she can’t stop it. “I never wanted to be a mother. I gave him away because I knew he’d be better off without me - but also because I knew I’d be better off without him. He’s a beautiful, amazing kid and I love him more than anything… but I never asked for this. Every day since he showed up at my door I’ve been terrified - every minute of every day. Those few minutes in the Fae forest when I couldn’t remember him were the most peaceful I’ve felt in months and when it all came flooding back it just reminded me of how much simpler my life was before I had to be anything to anyone. I don’t want to lose him. But I never wanted to find him either.”

The bridge rebuilds itself, completing the path across as the worst thing she’s ever said, ‘never wanted to find him’, is echoed back to her cruelly. She feels drained, numb, and she wonders if the others are feeling this horrible emptiness too. She looks out at where the Constant wait. If this is their idea of having them prove their allegiance, they better be ready to give theirs in return.

“Come on, Swan,” Killian tells her, leading her across the bridge. None of them say a word, Will and Killian both casting glances at Wendy who won’t look up from her feet, and the silence follows them the whole way across.

“That sounded rough,” Tink comments when they reach the platform, the five Constant talking in harsh whispers in a language she doesn’t recognize.

“How lucky of you to have missed it then,” Will snips. He must be feeling worse than Emma realized.

There’s an argument starting, still in that foreign language, but she can tell just the same. Every few words there’s a glimpse of something that feels familiar, a syllable from another language she’s heard, a word that could be French or Spanish, a glimpse of English, not one language but many - like every language spoken at once.

“This meeting has been a topic of some controversy,” Killian whispers. “But I think Tiger Lily might be on our side.”

“You can understand them?”

He shrugs. “One picks up a few things after two centuries.”

There’s a small scoff from Tink. “Yeah, all that pillow talk was really educational.”

Killian ignores the quip. “They’re the keepers of the last of the forgotten history of the old Neverland.” He nods at each as he names them. “That’s Philodendron, Halcyon, Alder, Jacaranda, and you know Tiger Lily.

“Tiger Lily is one of them?”

“Tiger Lily was the oldest Constant to survive the massacre. They were just shy of a century when Pan took over.”

“A century?”

“The Constant are eternal, love. A century is nothing.”

The Constant have gone silent, a tense, begrudging conclusion to their argument that Emma can feel even if she doesn’t know the words.

Finally, Tiger Lily speaks. “Tinkerbell tells us you wish to unearth the secrets of the island - secrets that were buried to keep us safe.”

“Secrets that could return the island to the way it once was if you ally with us against Pan,” Killian counters.

“If our knowledge could have defeated the boy,” Alder interjects, “we would have done so a millenia ago when he first laid waste to this island.”

“Maybe your knowledge alone couldn’t defeat him, but we have the Lorelei on our side, and the fae,” Wendy adds, gesturing at Tink.

Alder scoffs. “You have one fairy. One who’s been without magic for almost five hundred years, who’s magic was corrupted by the very demon you seek to destroy. Our magic was born from the innocence and dreams of children, the purest light magic there is, and even it was snuffed out by Pan’s darkness. What chance have you with a weakened fairy and the duplicitous sirens?”

“We have more than that,” Tink interjects, bitterness and insult obvious in the bite of her words. “We have her.” It takes Emma a moment to realize that she’s the one being gestured at and now every set of eyes is on her.

“Me?”

“Her?” Wendy frowns.

“You can’t honestly tell me you haven’t noticed. She practically reeks of magic. It’s spilling out of every pore. I clocked it as soon as she got here.”

“I don’t have magic.” The Constant continue to stare, questioning, doubting. “I don’t. Don’t you think if I did I’d have used it by now to get Henry back?”

“Not if you weren’t aware of it, love,” Killian offers gently.

“Okay but I’m not some fairytale character; I’m from Boston - the land without magic. I don’t have any power.”

“Oh for…” Tink swears under her breath, crossing the room and grabbing Emma’s wrist. Faster than she can stop her, the fairy pulls a small blade from the complicated twist of pins and leather that keeps her mass of blonde hair piled on top of her head, ivory handle embellished with gold runes, and slashes it across Emma’s palm.

“Ow! What the hell!” Emma shouts, yanking her hand away. That fucking hurt. Tinkerbelle doesn’t resist, the rest of their small crew moving to intervene, but all at once, they freeze. Emma follows their gazes to her hand, clutched tightly in a fist to her chest and her breath catches. There’s light seeping through the cracks in her fingers, golden and swirling like smoke, shimmering like the magic that flows over the Constant’s skin.

Jacaranda reaches a hand out to her, palm upturned in a request and Emma looks to the others before carefully placing her hand in theirs. Carefully, the Constant unfurls her fingers, examining the light that shines from her wound with a careful touch. Their eyes go wide. “This is our magic,” they say, voice soft and tinged with awe. “Ours and… something else.”

“May I?” Philodendron asks, extending their own hand. Emma nods, even as the urge to refuse shouts at her. You don’t have magic. You’re not magic. You’re a goddamn bail bonds person from Boston, not a fairytale character. Philodendron looks at her after taking a moment to examine the wound themselves. “This is light magic,” they confirm. “It’s raw and untapped but powerful, more powerful than anything I’ve seen since before Pan’s time.” They twist her hand a bit, trying to look closer, to read something in whatever they see that Emma can’t. “But this isn’t born of belief and dreams as ours is, it's the product of something else… of -”

“True love,” Emma breathes out, so low she doesn’t mean for anyone to hear it. Henry had said that hadn’t he? That she was supposed to be the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, that she was supposed to be the Saviour.

“Yes, that’s it,” Philodendron nods slowly. “You were right, Tinkerbelle. This is more powerful magic than we anticipated.”

“Can you use it?” Emma asks, still not believing it really, but if it means they’ll help her get her kid back, she doesn’t care what she has to do.

“That depends,” Halcyon takes a step forward. “Can you wield it?”

“No, I…” she doesn’t even know how this is possible.

“I can.” They all turn to Tink, Emma cradling her hand to her chest once more. “If you tell me what we need to do, I can guide her. But you’ll have to let me.” The last bit is directed at her and she hesitates… Tink hasn’t exactly made a secret of the fact that she’s not a fan of hers, and she just slashed her damn hand open… Trust already isn’t her strong suit to begin with. “I’m not going to steal it,” Tink snaps and looks genuinely offended and Emma remembers that she knows what it is to have her power taken from her.

“I know you won’t. I just… what if it doesn’t work?” How powerful could this magic be? She’s not anything special, she never has been. Why would this be any different?

“Then I guess you don’t get your kid back.”

“Tink,” Killian warns but Emma can’t help but appreciate the fairy’s bluntness.

“What do we need to do?”

“This cavern, ” TigerLily starts, taking a knee and placing a hand reverently on the stone, “used to be a sacred place. It held all of the secrets of Neverland, and the dreams of children who visited - the purest and most honest of truths of all - fueled the island as it did our magic. This was its source - the source of everything.

“But then Pan tainted this cave with his twisted version of secrets as power, as something to be wielded, and forced us to sacrifice the last of the light magic that still breathed life into Neverland, the cavern shielded itself from his darkness. Now it echoes truths rather than accept ones taken maliciously. This place… has seen nothing but darkness for centuries. It has not been sleeping, but fighting, the last of the resistance against Pan right under his nose, keeping the darkness at bay and it has hardened. We need to remind it what the light looks like.”

“It can have mine. Whatever this is. If it can help and if this place can defeat Pan it can have all of it.”

Tiger Lily smiles kindly. “Not all of it. It would never snuff out your light. But even the slightest kindling can spark an inferno and with it you can breathe magic back into the island.”

“How?”

They nod to Tink who retrieves her knife again, slashing her own palm this time, the light that glows from her wound a shimmering green, and holds her hand out to Emma. Heat burns across her skin when she takes Tink’s offered hand, the light between them growing, shining and mixing. Tink places her other hand on Tiger Lily’s shoulder and the Constant flattens both their palms against the stone beneath them. After a moment, they look to Emma and she knows she’s doing it wrong. She’s not doing anything but she’s doing it wrong.

“I’m sorry.”

Tiger Lily shakes their head, their smile not malicious, but understanding.

“I have met so many lost boys and girls on this island. So many broken, hardened children lead here by fear and hurt and neglect, so afraid to trust, to love, to admit or even accept what they want, what they desire more than anything - what has been robbed of them. This place is born of dreams and truths and you, dear Swan, strong Swan, brave Swan… frightened Swan, have locked yourself away from both.”

“But I already told this place my darkest secret.” But she doesn’t need Tiger Lily to tell her - this place echoes darkness, resists darkness. That secret was Pan’s magic - not Neverland’s.

“What do you dream of, Emma? What truths do you keep from yourself?” Emma opens her mouth to speak but Tiger Lily holds up a hand. “Do not tell them to me. Tell them to the lost girl. Unburden her.”

What does she dream of? Things she can’t have, things she’s never had, things that were taken away. She wants to find her parents, that’s no secret though, she’s always known that. She wants them to have never given her up in the first place. She wanted a family, the one she could have had with Henry and Neal if he hadn’t turned out to be the vile person he was, the life that she’d had just a glimpse of after one missed period, before everything went to shit. She doesn’t want that anymore. She hasn’t let herself want any of it since then, not love, not family, not hope…

Her skin begins to warm, something flaring beneath the surface. Liar. She doesn’t know if it’s the cave or herself or her magic but it echoes through her like her secret against the walls. Tiger Lily accused her of locking herself away from her dreams, from her truths, but can they even still be truths if they’ve been silenced and stomped down for decades?

She thinks of the lost girl she was, abandoned, a runaway on the street, burning the last of her childhood, of stupid fairytales and stories to keep warm in a world that was only ever cold. What had that girl wanted? Powerless, lost, alone. That girl who felt like nothing, who meant nothing to anyone, who had never mattered and never would, who had only herself to take care of her. She wanted to matter - to someone, to herself, she wanted people to matter to her, to be able to let them. She didn’t want to be alone anymore. Even as she pushed away every foster parent, every friend, every lover as she grew older, she didn’t want - she doesn’t want - to have to do it alone.

That’s what she dreams of, what she refuses to admit that she dreams of. That for all of her rightly earned distrust of everyone, for all of her caution and her fear of abandonment, of love and hope, she wants to be able to let them in, let them matter. She wants to believe that she could have that happily ever after that she’s scorned all her life.

Images flash in her mind as the heat builds, her body tingling, a faint glimmer of light shining against her shut eyelids. Henry smiling in her doorway in Boston, Mary Margaret offering her a home, Killian bringing her to Neverland, Wendy helping her hide from Pan, Will sacrificing himself for her, Killian nearly sacrificing Milah’s name - sacrificing his memories, all of them banding together to help her save her kid, even Tink now, helping her to wield magic she doesn’t understand.

She’s not alone. She’s not in this alone. For the first time in her life she has people she can count on. People she can trust. She thinks of the smile Henry gave her when she let him know she wasn’t going to leave Storybrooke even though she could, of Mary Margaret’s pep talks, of shared hot chocolate and drinks and advice in their apartment, of Killian in that dank brig after one of the worst hours of her life - perhaps I would - of his words whispered in the quiet darkness of his cabin - I’m here. You don’t have to ask - of his confession echoing around them - until I met you. She does matter to people. She’s not nothing. She was never nothing. She matters and she has people who matter to her.

Her whole body alights, the blood in her veins not blood anymore but something else, something powerful and she can feel it surging beneath her skin, pulled by a force as it rushes through her and towards that opening in her palm. The white of her light overtakes the green and Tink’s body jerks like the surge of magic is as jarring to her as it is for Emma. Tiger Lily gasps, the ground beneath them starting to glow, tendrils of golden light snaking towards them across the stone like rivulets. Their body starts to shimmer, the dusting of gold shining brighter until their skin is swallowed by it completely.

Emma can feel sweat beading on her skin, the salt mixing with the tears she hadn’t realized she’d been crying. She doesn’t know how much longer she can keep this up, the power coursing through her overwhelming. Tink’s hand is shaking in hers, both their palms damp and slippery and white knuckled and she can’t imagine how much more effort the fairy is putting in as the one actually channeling all of this.

“There’s so much,” Tiger Lily says in awe. “We’ve forgotten so much.” Their eyes are glowing with the same gold that covers their skin, their mouth pulling into a smile even as tears roll down their cheeks.

“I can’t -” Tink starts, but doesn’t let Emma release her hand when she tries to stop.

There’s another moment, the light engulfing the Constant almost completely, so bright Emma has to look away, before finally, suddenly, it stops. The three of them slump against the ground with a gasp of exhaustion. Emma doesn’t even turn when she feels hands on her shoulders, helping her to sit up, she knows it’s him. Wendy is at Tink’s side helping to support her as well as the Constant circle around Tiger Lily, all of them holding one another in a moment that feels beautiful and private as joy and heartbreak play over their faces.

“Can you. Stop him?” Tink pants out.

“I… I think so. There’s just - there’s so much. I need time to sort through it all.”

“We don’t. Have. Time.”

“All of the secrets of Neverland, millennia’s worth, have just been poured into my mind. It will take me more than a few minutes to understand it all and find what will help us.”

“How much time?” Emma asks. Henry’s already been here too long - too long without knowing that she’s here, that she’s coming for him.

“I don’t… give me a few nights at least. Come back in three days. That should give me time to make sense of what is needed at least.” Their eyes are far away, like they’re not seeing the cavern around them but something far bigger and far more extraordinary.

Emma nods. “Three days?”

“Three days. And then we’ll rid this island of its false king forever.”

***********

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