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startanewdream · 4 years ago

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Emergency meeting

Like I said, Jily Lives AU is a drug and I’m addicted to it, so here’s another drabble of Harry having the best parents ever.

I have another scene I thought of writing (for OotP, though), but if you have any idea/prompt, please share with me :)

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Summary: When Harry has an emergency worse than facing a dragon during the Triwizard Tournament, only his father can help him. Companion to Eyes glistening (with the ghost of my past).

Read on AO3 or below:

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Harry’s call comes in the middle of a Friday afternoon, just as James is finishing dinner - Lily will be home in about fifteen minutes and he likes to let everything ready for when she comes back from work.

‘Dad? Are you there?’

It’s very unusual for Harry to call him on the mirror, so for an instant, James thinks Harry is there somehow - his eyes go immediately to the fireplace -, until he locates the origin on the mirror he left on the kitchen counter, waiting for a message from Sirius.

‘Harry?’, he asks surprised, when he sees his son’s face in the mirror. Harry looks slightly sick. ‘Is everything ok?’

‘Yeah, yeah. All the same. I just need to talk to you’.

‘Go on’.

‘Not through the mirror’, says Harry, still looking more uneasy than when he had to tell his parents about going after the Philosopher’s Stone. Or entering the Chamber of Secrets. Or meeting Peter Pettigrew. ‘Can - I know I’m not supposed to - but could we meet in Hogsmeade tomorrow?’

James glances at the calendar.

‘There is not a trip scheduled for tomorrow’.

‘I know, that’s why I said I wasn’t supposed to, but I thought -’, Harry hesitates, biting his lips, and James thinks he looks even younger than he is. ‘- If I use the Cloak and the Map no one would know, and I know it’s for emergencies only, but this is one of them’.

‘If it’s Voldemort -’

‘No, no, it’s another kind of emergency. Please, dad. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t so important’’.

James looks carefully at his son. Harry is sweating; the boy didn’t even flinch before facing a dragon months ago and, somehow, he looks more nervous now than he was on the First Task. He does not know what kind of emergency Harry is talking about if it doesn’t involve Voldemort, but he would not refuse his son anyway.

‘Ok’, he agrees, and he sees relief in Harry’s face. ‘Why don’t we meet for lunch in the Three Broomsticks? Rosmerta is an old friend, she won’t say anything, and your mother and I can -’

‘No’, Harry panics again. ‘Not Mum. Just you’.

That makes James frown. Harry may look like him, but his heart has always been more like Lily’s and he always confided in his mother. Even when he came to ask for James’ help for anything or share one of his misdeeds, Harry always knew his father would eventually share it with his mother later.

There are many questions James wants to ask, but right now he just nods one last time.

‘Midday, the Three Broomsticks’, is all he says and, with a grateful smile, Harry is gone.

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Harry is already in the dinner room James had reserved when James arrives. He looks at his watch. Harry is five minutes early; his son is never early for anything, not even to go to Hogwarts on September 1st or Quidditch matches.

This must be really important.

Still, James takes a moment to watch Harry, who is pacing nervously. He didn’t change much from the last time they’ve seen each other - when he hugged Harry after his victory over the dragon, with a proud grin that didn’t show how James nearly had a heart attack before - but James always likes to see how grown up Harry is, marvelling at the fact that his son is alive and well.

‘Dad!’, Harry cries when he sees him, looking reassured that James is there. ‘You took long’.

‘I’m on time, actually’, James says, amused. ‘Now, can you tell me what got your knickers on a twist?��

Somehow the fact that James is there seems to have a soberer effect on Harry. He stops pacing, sitting at the small table, biting his lips with more hesitation than James had ever seen on him.

‘Maybe - maybe we can share a butterbeer first’.

‘Harry’, James begins, feeling confused. ‘We can drink all the butterbeer you want, but you just didn’t summon here for a drink -’

‘I need your help asking a girl for the Yule Ball’.

The words come out of Harry’s mouth so fast that James takes a moment to understand their meaning. When he does, amusement threatens to overwhelm him and James almost chuckles, now seeing what is Harry’s great emergency.

But he presses his lips, avoiding even a smile because it’s obvious how desperate Harry is, how he needs James’ guidance in a way he didn’t seem to need when he was facing parts of Voldemort or a basilisk or flying over a dragon.

Harry needs his father.

‘Oh’, he says at least. ‘That requires a butterbeer’.

And a firewhiskey for him would be nice, but he doesn’t want to settle a bad example.

So he orders butterbeers and a small lunch for them. He waits until Harry is drinking his butterbeer, once again marvelling at how his son is old now if he is worried about dates, before he asks in the most nonchalant voice he can manage:

‘So, who do you want to invite?’

‘Well - there is this girl - she is really pretty, she is one year ahead of me and she plays Seeker for the Ravenclaw team, so…’

Harry stops talking and James realizes this is it, actually. There is nothing more for him to tell because his son is just infatuated for the first time in his life.

He wants to tell Harry that there is more than just a pretty face and a shared interest in Quidditch, but Harry is fourteen and James remembers what it was like then. Even his feelings for LIly had been shallow then - love, the real feeling that had twice saved Harry’s life, had come later.

‘So you want to ask her to the ball. Does she have a date yet?’

‘I - I don’t know. I’ve never seen her with anyone though’.

‘That’s okay. If she already has one, she will just tell you. But if you want to invite her, don’t take too long. Girls don’t like to think they are your last resort - actually, no one likes it’.

‘But how -’, Harry takes another gulp of his drink. ‘I can’t just get there when she has all her friends around her - she is always with her friends, really, it’s maddening - and I can’t just ask… How did you ask Mum out?’

Now it’s James that is taking a long gulp from his butterbeer, wishing he had an easier answer to that. All Harry knows is that he and Lily had fallen in love during school and they had married just after graduation; they had never detailed the complicated years that had come before.

‘Well -’, he begins, still unsure of how to answer that. ‘ - actually, the first two times I asked your Mum out, she refused to go out with me’.

Harry blinks, surprised.

‘Why? I thought you two were in love since forever’.

‘It does feel like forever, but that’s not true’, James shrugs. ‘It’s not always easy as a fairytale. It takes time’.

‘But if she didn’t want to go out with you -’.

‘Well, since you are here, it’s obvious she wanted to go out with me at some point’, James says, grinning to ease Harry’s sudden nervousness as if he is unable to imagine a world in which his parents weren’t always together. ‘I was just a bit of a toss when I was young - actually, when I was your age - and your mum had better things to do than lose time with this idiot then. She was smart, of course, but that is beside the point. Let’s talk about the time she accepted at least’.

There is a smile now on James’ lips, the same one that he always has when he is thinking of Lily, that Harry immediately recognizes.

‘Skip the kissing parts, ok?’, he pleads, rolling his eyes.

‘That’s the best part’, James jokes. ‘But that happened later, anyway. So I asked her out for a date. Even though she had refused before, many things had happened since then and we had been friends for a while, but I wanted more. Always did, but then I was lucky and she wanted more too’.

‘That easy? You just asked?’

‘There is no other way, Harry’. He smiles at his son. ‘You are going to take a leap of faith in this, really. If she is never alone, and you don’t want to ask her in front of her friends, ask for a word with her. Her friends may giggle, but it’s perfectly, annoyingly normal, I promise you’.

‘And if she says no?’

‘Life goes on. You respect her decision and you ask someone else for the ball’. Harry looks nervous at this prospect too. ‘You can ask someone to go as a friend, you know. It doesn’t have to mean anything’.

‘Okay’, Harry says, looking more relieved.

‘How about Hermione?’

‘Hermione?’, Harry repeats, as if what James is saying is beyond his comprehension. ‘But she is just my friend’.

‘Yes, Harry’, James says patiently. ‘That was the point, remember?’

Harry is still frowning.

‘Yeah, but it would be weird, like going with a sister’.

‘Someone else, then. Maybe a friend that isn’t so much like a sister to you’.

Harry nods thoughtfully, and in his silence, James suddenly remembers Ron's little sister. She is the most charmingly young girl he has ever met - though his opinion may be affected by the fact she also shares his love for chasing -, but she is extremely shy whenever Harry is around. If maybe they could have a date and get to know each other better -

‘And what if she says yes?’, Harry asks suddenly, in a heavy whisper that distracts James.

James blinks, looking puzzled at his son.

‘Then you go together. Isn’t that what you want?’

‘Yes’, Harry says, but he doesn’t seem very convincingly as if the aspect of someone accepting his invitation is even scarier than asking her out to begin with.

Oh, Merlin, if he is concerned about what to do with a date, they are going to have that talk again. He thought he had covered enough last year, but maybe Harry wasn’t really paying attention - sex would definitely seem to alien for a thirteen year old boy... Oh, Merlin, Harry is too young for things like that -

‘But it’s a dance’, Harry adds, and James breaths again.

God bless his son, he is worried about the dancing, not snogging.

‘It’s easy, actually’, James says, and he instantly winces. Nothing seems easy when you are fourteen. ‘I mean, if it’s formal, just revolve around on the same spot - like one step to one side, then another, careful not to step on her foot and you’ll be fine’.

‘You and Mum never dance like that’.

‘We prefer rock, yeah, but I watched my old folks dancing together more times than I can count. Really, Harry, is all about the feeling’.

Harry grimaces, and James realizes the only feeling Harry would probably feel is panic.

‘You like this girl, right?’

‘Yeah, I think so’. He flushes. ‘She makes me nervous’.

‘Nervous’, James repeats slowly.

‘As if I was walking down a stair and suddenly I missed a step, you know, that feeling inside...’

‘I see’.

Harry looks nervously at him.

‘Is that all right? I mean, is that how you feel about Mum?’

‘My feelings for Lily are a bit more complex than that, Harry’, he says gently. ‘But yes, sometimes when we’ve been apart for a while or even when I wake up by her side sometimes, it’s like I’m seeing her for the first time and I feel this - I think a poet would call it butterflies, but for us maybe little Golden Snitches flying in the belly would be more appropriate. And I can’t believe I got so lucky’.

He loses himself in his thoughts, thinking of Lily. They’ve been married for over sixteen years and she still makes his heart beats fast as she did the first time they’ve kissed.

‘Did you always love her?’, Harry asks in a whisper, for once not sounding grossed at the idea of his parents together like a couple.

James looks at him, wishing once more there was an easy answer. Having the talk seems easier than this - Harry knows love as this entity that’s always been part of his life, as a talisman that has protected him more than once, but explaining romantic love to a teenager is something else.

‘I don’t know when I started loving Lily’, he says slowly. ‘There isn’t a day that I can point to as the day it all began, just as I can’t tell you one single reason for why I love her. Love is in the little things, in the little moments, and it grows without you even noticing it sometimes. When I finally realized I was in love with her, it seemed I was already feeling like that since always’.

‘So you didn’t fall in love at first sight? You two just dated before -’

‘I fancied your mother a lot, obviously, but love came as we got to know each other, as we grew closer. It’s not always fast like in those soap operas you and Sirius like to watch. And -’, James hesitates a little, but he supposes there are some things Harry needs to understand. ‘- we’ve both dated other people before we got together. So, if you like this girl, get to know her, even date her, yes, but it’s ok if it doesn’t last’.

Harry is still looking at James as if it’s unfathomable to him the idea of either his parents with other people, but he nods quietly. It’s not like Harry isn’t familiar about Sirius’ history of girlfriends to know that not all relationships have to end in marriage, but Harry grew up as the son of a couple whose love became famous for overcoming death. He obviously has some expectations about his own lovelife.

As always happens, this is another battle James can’t fight for his son. He will have to deal with dates and relationships and heartbreaks on his own, and all James can offer is chocolate (as Remus would recommend) and lend his ears for any sorrow or happiness Harry wants to share with him.

Still, that’s one of the most normal battles Harry has ever faced, and James is grateful for that; his son already lost too much time worrying about war and Voldemort and surviving.

There is a knock on the door and James raises to get the burgers, giving Harry some more time with his thoughts.

‘Thanks, dad’, Harry says at least, when they are left alone.

‘No problem. That’s what dads are for’, he answers teasingly, exchanging a grin with Harry. ‘Speaking of problems, though, how is it going with the egg?’

Harry rolls his eyes. It’s obvious that’s not a concern for him.

‘I still have time’, he says distractedly. ‘Now, what’s this story of you and mum dating other people…?’

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The call comes again three days later.

‘Dad?’

James closes the Transfiguration book in front of him and takes the mirror. Harry doesn’t seem very thrilled, but he is smiling at his father anyway.

‘Hi, son. So, how it went?’

‘Well, as good as I expected. Made myself kind of a fool, blushed a lot, strumbled a little, but I asked her’.

Harry is not beaming as James would expect, so he winces.

‘Didn’t go well then?’

‘She said someone else already asked her. So you were right, I should have asked sooner. But… well, I think she looked sorry, so that’s good, right?’

‘Yes, yes. Maybe another time you can ask her out’.

Harry’s smile is a little more natural now.

‘Well, in any case I have a date. I asked Parvati - she’s from my year, so it’s more as a friend, like you said’.

‘Good, I’m happy for you. Be a good dancing partner to your date, ok?’

‘Yeah, about that, I’ve been thinking - this also definitely qualifies as an emergency - could you ask mum to meet me at Hogsmeade next Saturday? I thought she could give me some dancing classes’.

#Jily lives #James Potter #Lily Evans #James Potter and Harry Potter #jily fanfiction #Eyes glistening #t: fanfiction

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taliel-strykidz · 4 years ago

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Fatality Pt 3

Eventually a surgeon did emerge.

"Hyung, Jinyoung." Taeyong whispered hoarsely standing quickly. The latters head snapped up from his hands and drifted over to put his hands on Mark's shoulders, the boy had arrived three hours ago and had been wallowing in self guilt the minute he saw the amount of people waiting outside the room.

"Ai-Huan is now in recovery. She'll be moved to the ICU where you'll be able to see her once we have her settled."

"So she... I mean is she okay?" Bao asked wobbly next to Jackson.

The doctor tightened his lips into a thin line, she knew that the look he gave her was bad news. Jinyoung felt like his lungs were filling with water, the only thing keeping him afloat being his hands on a shaky Mark Lee's shoulder.

"She developed an extensive amount of trauma. Mainly in her chest as her ribs took most of the blunt force with the steering wheel. Her spine was crushed, resulting in a big fracture in her fifth rib which tore her artery-"

"Yeah but no offence, what does all of that even mean?" Lily snapped sick of all the doctors using terms she didn't understand, she wasn't stupid but this was too advanced for her. Normally when it came to medical terms Huannie would usually dumb it down a little to sound less intense. Eunhyuk ended up moving her away from the doctor, somewhat scared that she would try and fly kick the doctor.

"Miss Huan's coronary artery was torn by her rib cage - it means that once we repaired it her heart wasn't distributing the blood around her body efficiently enough. So she's developed what we call cardio-myopathy."

"Isn't that basically heart failiure?" Johnny voiced hoarsely for the first time in three hours, he remembered his and Huannie's medical lessons she used to give him and his mind began racing thinking of all the possibilities she had told him.

"It means we had to fit a pacemaker which will regulate her blood pumping around her body. To make sure that it's doing it's job we will put her on a cardiac event monitor so she can keep track of her condition. We will put those closest to her through training on how to use it once she wakes up-"

"When will that be exactly? When the anesthesia wears off?" Yesung asked finally, he'd been trying to wrap his head around the whole conversation but everything was just blurring together at this point.

The doctor looked down, clearly trying to think of a way to explain it without causing a load of panic that he could already see rising, so he instead only looked down at his hands, another bad sign.

"Answer him god dammit!" Yang Bao erupted from the back of the group, she'd been quiet the whole time they'd been in the waiting room, solely focused on reassuring the group of Idols around her.

"We aren't entirely sure of when she'll wake up. The MRI showed sign of swelling on the left part of her brain, her head took a heavy hit from the crash."

"Oh my fucking god, I can't be here..." Bao turned away, a hand over her mouth to stop anyone from noticing that she was sobbing quietly. Bao and Huannie hadn't known eachother for as long as those around her, but the little time they had known eachother Bao had really found a sister in Ai-Huan that she really cherished. Especially after the incidents they had run into, Bao couldn't process the idea that the NCT member wouldn't wake up. No one did.

"But I can tell you that she did manage to save Mr Kim's life, the medical knowledge saved him from bleeding out. Her seatbelt saved her." The doctor had added as if it would consolidate them a little more, but judging by the sobs and the scoffs around the group he did nothing but add feul to the fire.

"Did it though? You're telling us she might not wake up!" Jackson rounded in on the doctor.

"Jackson, he's trying his best Ge." Bao said softly giving the doctor a respectful nod to ease the tension a little, this doctor just sat in a surgery for three hours to maintain Huannie's quality of life- it wasn't fair for them to be taking their frustrations out on him.

Jinyoung along with Eunhyuk just stood in silence, not knowing whether to scream or sob- both. Jinyoung couldn't breathe, it felt as if someone was choking him. His heart was racing and all he wanted to do was storm in that room and curl up into a ball next to her and pray for her to wake up, as if something divine would save her. But there wasn't, there was no such thing as God in his eyes anymore. A choked sob for his 'virtual wife' forced itself up his throat, and he felt a drop run down his cheek.

"We are doing the best we can I assure you." He smiled sympathetically at them before taking his lead to sort the arrangements out.

Leaving behind him shattering Idols as they all grouped or isolated together and thought out what to do next, it was first Lily who had peeled away from the group to crouch in the corner. She wished that the doctor would come back and say it was all a big joke. Until then she was determined to analyse everything that she would need to bring for her bestfriend for when she wakes up. The floor was cold, but she was burning in rage and her fist clenched in a flurry of devastation and fury thinking that this was because a woman was driving under the infulence.

"Where's the woman that did this?" Lily stood up only to get blocked by Jae, Lily's emotions filled her chest, feeling her ears start to burn. She glares at her sub-unit leader then got into the womans face to spit out "DON'T START WITH THIS JAE!"

Jae only scoffs and knocks her further back only adding fuel to Lily's outburst. "Are you telling me you don't want to find her either?" Lily snaps as if it was justifyed.

Jae glares at her with disapointment lingering in her sad eyes. "You're extremely stupid sometimes. Imagine us storming through a hospital and we find her. What are you going to do then Lily huh? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO THEN?" Jae screamed back, though it came out more of a dull exhaustion than pure rage, like they'd been over this somany times in the car.

"I'm going to put her in her own hospital bed, maybe she'll learn not to drink and drive-"

"IT'S NOT GOING TO CHANGE ANYTHING! IT'S NOT GOING TO MAGICALLY REWIND TIME AND BRING HER BACK FIVE HOURS AGO LILY. USE YOUR HEAD FOR ONCE."

The arguement was cold. Every word pronounced, slicing rather than tumbling through the tense air. The love and desperation they held wasn't gone, it had been distorted into a close mimic of hate for the woman that caused it.

Someone got in the middle of them, a sort of disgruntled figure, irritation in his stride. The others watched as his brown hair moved over his forehead. His eyes were peircing into the girls, as if he were afraid that if he didn't they'd begin fighting in the hospital waiting room. His expression had changed three times in the few seconds he stood in between them, from a scoff to pure disapointment. "Both of you go home." He spat and motioned for Jackson and Yesung to take them.

A scoff of disbelief left Lily's mouth until she realised he wasn't playing around, Park Jinyoung was crumbling in front of everyone and the two girls words unravelled the last piece of string on his heart.

"Don't get involved like you care Jinyoung, you weren't caring when you were off at restraunts with you're co-host." The words flew from Lily's mouth, something she never though she'd even think, let alone say out loud. She knew instantly from the look in his eyes that they'd hit their mark. In that instant whatever was left keeping Jinyoung together shattered into glassy shards. Jinyoung wouldn't meet her eye as Jackson and Yesug angrily escorted the girls out of the hospital.

Things had changed.

And Jinyoung sat outside the hospital crying into the cold brassy Seoul sky for his love to wake up.

#Nct 19th member #female addition #Seventeen 14th member #super junior imagines #kpop imagines #kpop au #Park jinyoung #jackson wang au

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maximumninjavoid · 4 years ago

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Mining for Unobtanium

Chapter ten

I did a few laps in my pity pool, a bit of water ballet, since I was already wet, and then I shook it off. You're too old for that flavor of foolishness, I told myself, and I tried to get on about my business. All right, maybe I did need a bit more concealer than usual, but, that's not the point.

My work was rewarding. Exhausting but rewarding and I dearly loved my clients. About three hours into my day a delivery man arrived, asking for me. My director pointed my office out and an enormous floral arrangement came around the corner. It looked like it was moving under its own power, since the person carrying it was actually obscured from view. White roses, green roses, hyacinth and Lily of the valley. Fresh start, new beginnings, and deeply traditional apology flowers. They smelled heavenly. I had no idea where I was going to put them. They were bigger than the clear space on my desk. I thanked the delivery person and went to get my work bag to tip them. "Oh, no, ma'am, that's been taken care of, more than generous, really, thank you."

I reached for the card.

My darling, can I call you that? Of course I DO know your name, Lord knows I've moaned it a time or two in the recent weeks, I'm surprised you didn't feel me. I feel that connected to you.

I knew right the moment it went pear shaped, and I didn't mean to come off as such a wanker. I just thought you felt it too. If you don't forgive me, I shall have other alternative than to learn the Rach Three, and join the French Foreign Legion.

Yours,

Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill

ps did I mention how absolutely sorry I am? Can I make it up to you over dinner? At four, your time?

What the apricot flavored fuck was he up to? Dinner? At four? Ok, that completely fits with my schedule,but he's on the other side of the planet, and I'm not sure how this works. Instead, I wafted on the intoxicating fragrance of the flowers, tucked the note VERY close to my heart, and smiled when everyone and their cousin wanted to know why I got flowers. "Just be cause I'm amazeballs." " Damn straight.. That in fact you are! " " ok, I'm handing out homework for group, cause miss Rona is no fun at all. Get it back to me TOMORROW, or you don't get credit! "

I wish I had video of me trying to get this arrangement of flowers into my two seater. That was all flavors of funny. There was no way it went in the trunk, it didn't quite fit on the floorboard, I didn't want have to put the top down and let the wind at highway speed have at it. But, I prevailed, got it in the house and managed to make a section presentable for a zoom date. I stood in front of my closet for a good 45 minutes, freaking out. What do I wear? All dresseed? Casual? Waist up? Allurring? Slutty? Screw that. It's August. The temperature is best described as Satan's front porch. Elegant and comfortable. Maybe my stomach will settle and I won't throw up.

At precisely 3:45 my doorbell rings, and it is delivery people. I open the door and they come in and set up a small table , set it, plate the food, put some things in the kitchen and leave!

Food's out, my mouth watering, and you have an upcoming video talk with possibly the world's most good looking man. Nothing to panic about, at all.

I look and find a case of all the different flavors of No 1 water and remind myself to thank him for that as well. Mint. Ok. Let's give that a try.

And throwing any and all caution ( and self preservation, I suppose) to the wind, I power up the laptop, and click the zoom link in the email.

Yes, by the way, it IS possible to drink a half a bottle of No 1 mint water in one swallow, especially if you're desert parched and nervous as fuck.

And then my heart stops. And I swear to every God and Goddess I can recall, time stands still, and I'm praying that my mouth is not hanging open, because he is perfection. The angles of his cheekbones. That jaw line. Oh my God those blue eyes. Literally I could just fall into them, and never be heard from again, and I would be ok with that. The slightly messy sable curls, begging to have hands run through it, and all of this is short circuiting my poor overloaded brain in the space of SECONDS.

"Hi" Seriously? Hi??? Is that the best you can do? You blithering idiot. Just turn off the computer, and find a hole to crawl into.

" Thank you for accepting my apology, and my dinner invitation. I really am sorry that I made such a dog's dinner of it. I just, well, we were getting on so well, and it was comfortable, and I made a cock up of it. "

I remembered to breathe. In and out. You've been doing it for years...

" Well, I suppose I will let it go this once, but I reserve the privilege of punishing you later. " And I smiled.

He looked down for an instant and then back at me, through his lashes, and there was a wicked twinkle there that wasn't present before. "Deal."

Dinner was delicious, and if I told you I recalled what I ate, it would be a bold faced lie. It was eleven in Hungary, and the end of a long day for him, I'm certain, but the conversation was easy and light and a little flirty. I have no idea when I grew a set of balls that big, but, since no one had come back to tell me that reincarnation was a thing, I might as well swing for the fences. At about the two hour mark, I realized I was probably being very selfish and I should let him get to bed, and said as much.

"That's the thing that technology lacks..."

" what's that? " I asked

"At the end of a marvelous date, I would see you home, and then I would take you in my arms, and I would kiss you. First kisses are important. You can tell a great deal about a person from how they approach a kiss."

" You mean like long slow soft deep wet kisses that last three days? "

"And the small of a woman's back and opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas eve"

"Thank you for a lovely evening, Henry"

"Thank you, y/n"

#henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x reader #hxldmxdxwn #indigosaurus #fishcustardandclintbarton #thiccgeralt

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nincompoopydoo · 5 years ago

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Apple cider for Bill

Words: 1018 (It's getting longer everytime oops)

Summary: You were babysitting your niece, Lily and her best friend Hannah when you find out that her best friend's dad is none other than Bill, the Christmas lights guy that made babies squeal with delight. Bill might have realized he was having the biggest crush on you as well. Life was weird like this.

Note: So just pretend you have a sister and a niece named Lily haha. This is just a something something I don't even know. Weird summary,weird story and college is hard. Enjoy?

...For Bill series masterlist

Previous part: Chips for Bill

Next part: Cheerios for Bill

Masterlist

“Hannah! Your dad is here!” you called out from the bottom of the stairs once you heard the doorbell.

Groans followed by the sound of a muffled ‘coming’ came from your niece’s bedroom where the two girls were. You knew all too well the girls won’t be coming down anytime soon.

The doorbell rang once again as you scurried over to the door. You decided it was best to invite Hannah’s dad in for a bit as they waited.

Swinging the door open, you felt your heart immediately drop.

“Bill?” your voice cracked, eyes widened in shock. You really had not expected to see Bill at your sister’s house’s doorstep yet be your niece’s best friend’s dad.

Life was weird like this.

The man stood still, blinking. “Y/N?” he looked equally as shocked as you were with a hint of confusion. “You’re Lily’s mom?”

“What?-Oh-no, no. No. I’m her aunt.” you flashed him a sheepish smile, chuckling lightly.

You realized he knew your name, although you clearly remembered you hadn’t told him. “You know my name?” you blurted ever so recklessly.

“Yeah, uh, you had a name tag on.”

Of course, you did. Why didn’t you think of that?

“Oh.”

Silence fell over the two of you. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, slightly rocking back and forth.

He must be cold.

Your eyes widened in slight panic. “Oh God, sorry. Come in! You’re freezing out there.” You stepped aside, tugging lightly on his sleeve, pulling him in.

It was more of a reflex; you wouldn’t have done that intentionally.

The sudden gesture made his heart stop, breath hitch and his brain nearly shut down.

You were mainly the cause of his dysfunction.

This infatuation, as Bill would like to call it, had taken a huge toll on him ever since that early morning at 7-Eleven he had shared with you. He never stopped thinking about you ever since at least, having to only settle with the fact he was falling into that hole again.

It was wrong, at least to his eyes. He’s a divorced man and a father of three yet he found himself gawking over you like a thirteen year old boy.

Bill always cringed at this, thirteen year old Hader has to be erased from his head.

Yet, there you were; hair braided messily, dressed in a navy blue sweater and pink polka dot socks, beaming up at him.

Yeap, he fell in deep.

“Take a seat, Bill.” you gestured towards the couch. “I’ll fix you up something warm.” you padded towards the kitchen, out of his sight.

Bill realized he had been holding his breath the whole time, exhaling deeply.

He was a mess.

And he now knows you are the aunt of his daughter’s best friend.

Life works in strange ways.

You then came back into view, walking cautiously into the living room with a clearly hot mug in hand. “It’s apple cider. I was making one for myself, but I figured I’ll just give it to you instead.” you smiled, cheeks were flushed, slightly embarrassed. Was that too desperate? “-Think of it as a thank you gift. At least, for helping me with those lights.”

His brows lifted and his chuckle was deep and warm.

You handed over the drink; your fingers brushed his in the midst of doing so.

He was startled by the sudden warmth of your hands. The thought of your delicate small hands in his had caused his cheeks to burn up in an instant.

Was it really getting hotter by the second?

“Thank you.”

You quickly stepped back to regain yourself, sitting in the armchair opposite him. You cleared your throat. Silence fell upon the room, as you tried not to stare at Bill sipping lightly on his apple cider.

“So-” you started, eyes meeting his blue ones.“-What’re you planning for the holidays?”

A coy shrug. “Nothing much. Spend some time with the girls and-” he paused, stroking the stubble on his chin. “-visiting. I guess.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “Nice.”

Bill was always nice looking. Meaning, he was just nice to look at despite his heavy eye bags and really bad sense of style. Him in large jacket, huddled cozily on the couch, nursing a cup that said ‘Best Mom in the world.’, with a small smile on his face.

He was happy, you could tell.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of the girls running down the stairs, giggling. “Lily, I told you! - Oh. Hey, dad.” Hannah lightly pecks his cheek, pulling him from the couch, then turning to you. “Bye, Y/N. Thanks for letting me braid your hair.” you chuckled lightly, trailing behind them towards the door.

“No problem, kiddo.”

Lily was immediately by your side as you leant against the doorway. The sight of Bill squatting down to his daughter’s level, pulling a beanie over her head, was absolutely too pure for this world.

How did a man like Bill even existed.

The tall man stood up, eyes shifted from Hannah to you, smiling sheepishly.

"Thanks for the apple cider and everything."

"It's no problem."

He eyed you wistfully, staring at the way your face practically glowed in the evening light.

Bill found it extremely hard to take his eyes off you.

You'd admit the same; your unwavering gaze met his.

"Dad....." Hannah whined, trying desperately to hide her growing smile, tugging on his sleeve.

He blinked, snapping out of his trance. "Oh - right. So, uh, I'll see you around?"

"Yeah, sure. I-I'll see you around."

Bill then walked away, or rather dragged towards his car by his daughter; she giddily waves at your niece.

You chuckled, turning to see Lily with a smug look.

"What?"

Her smirk widened into a grin, and then went on to sing Love is in the air by John Paul Young.

"-Love is in the air......-"

You made a face, wondering how on earth a kid like her even knew that song.

"Now, help me clean up, Lil or your mom is gonna kill both you and me."

TAGLIST:

@ciniluv

#bill hader #bill hader x reader #barry berkman x reader #barry berkman #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier #Chips for Bill #Coffee for Bill #Apple cider for Bill #Snl #saturday night live #john mulaney #kristen wiig #it chap 2

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captainkirkk · 5 years ago

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King Falls AM Fic Recs

I finished listening to Kfam about a week ago and immediately started binge-reading fics (and re-listening to the entire series). So rather than clogging up my weekly fic round-up, I thought I’d make this into its own list. I’ve still got plenty of fics left to read, but here’s a list of the ones I’ve really, really enjoyed so far.

(Contains spoilers!)

You Don't Tip Over by helloearthlings (Note: this author is going to keep popping up in this list - their fics are just so good)

“I mean, I’m just an intern,” Ben says quickly. “I’m not – I’m not complaining or anything. It’s just – I came to LA just for this internship, and I’ve never lived away from home before. So on top of all the shit I get here, I’m in this awful sublet with five roommates who act like smoking pot is a personality and there’s never a moment’s quiet, and it’s so expensive anyway. I just really miss my mom, this is the first time I’ve lived more than a few miles from her, and the town I’m from is just so special to me and I’ve never been away for longer than a week – oh God, I’m rambling, I’m so sorry -”

“Ben,” Jack moves to squeeze his shoulder, recognizing the symptoms of a panic attack after years of helping Sammy through his. “Just breathe. In and out. You’re gonna be okay.”

[In which Jack recruits Ben as an intern for Shotgun Saturday Nights.]

Take My Heart and Run Along by SolBaby

Ben is 12 and Sammy is 18 and they're whole years too young to try and survive and navigate life on their own. But they have friends who love them more than they know what to do with. And they have each other, despite everything bad in their life that's trying to force it otherwise, at the very least, they have each other. And that's the best they could ever hope for.

Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)

Cassidae

Ben had This Is Your Year, Sammy Stevens clips edited to Green Day’s Good Riddance, subtitled Time of Your Life. It’s a song about someone leaving, but that’s semantics.

Then Sammy’s gone.

[ The first Sammiversary happens sans Sammy. This is what happens after. ]

Wish You All The Best by FoxGlade

“This is gonna sound like a stupid question,” Ben says suddenly, “but what year is it?”

Well, Ben has said stupider things. “2018,” Sammy answers. Ben looks to Jack, who looks to Emily, who narrows her mouth into a thin line.

“That’s… maybe a problem,” she says.

(The Christmas magic of King Falls strikes again, giving Sammy a firsthand account of his own future.)

Call On Me by FoxGlade

There's only one 24 hour grocery in King Falls. Considering the night owl habits of what seems like half the town, Emily was expecting it to be busier, but she's the only one cruising the aisles at 4am on a Tuesday morning. She's just passed the pharmacy section and picked up the medicine she needs, and now she's idling in the produce section. It's maybe too early in the morning for her brain to be online.

But it's not too early for someone else.

The phone only rings once before the voice on the other end says, “You're live on King Falls AM for our special Get Better Ben show.”

(Emily calls into the station while Ben is home sick.)

for a higher love by helloearthlings

“Supreme Court legalized same sex marriage this morning, 5-4.”

Ron could tell in an instant that Sammy already knew; something about him crumpled when Ron said it out loud.

God, the guy was – sad about this? Ron’s quiet suspicion about which way Sammy swung was absolutely confirmed – the straight and narrow of King Falls might be all woe is me over the fact that they didn’t have a monopoly on marriage anymore, but no one looked this wrecked if the decision didn’t affect them personally. The question was why this had put Sammy in some sort of drunken stupor.

[Ron, Sammy, and Pride in King Falls.]

tell me we'll never get used to it by feather_cadence

Ben, Sammy, and Lily come up with some rules for living together. Lily tries to figure out just where it is she fits.

reflected by helloearthlings

“Oh God,” Sammy says faintly with Ben’s voice, staring slack jawed. “I didn’t even know my face was capable of making that expression.”

Ben doesn’t think he has any particular expression on but Jack nods emphatically in Sammy’s direction. “That’s how I knew it wasn't you! Your face just doesn’t do that.”

“Do what?” Ben feels particularly defensive of his face – it’s his face, he can’t change it, except apparently he can, since it’s Sammy’s face right now and oh shit, Ben needs to lay back down and wake up from this surreal dream.

Shine by neversaydie

It's not a flashy affair, more of a cookout than a parade, but Ron's dock is decked out in rainbow bunting and there are cheesy tunes blaring from a speaker inside the Bait and Tackle - as the man himself flips burgers in nothing but his daisy dukes and a rainbow flag tied around his shoulders like a cape.

He is, quite literally, the hero they deserve.

Sammy watches from a distance, leaning against the side of the shop and nursing a beer as the party unfolds. There's already talk of repeating the event next year, getting some local sponsorship and making it bigger and better.

It's… nice. Weird, but nice.

[in which Pride makes it to King Falls, and Sammy gets used to being out and proud.]

Tend by helloearthlings

Ben had been so startled the first time this happened, running in and finding Sammy sobbing and crying out like there was a monster under the bed, but Ben had quickly adapted to this new feature of their friendship. He could be the big brother for a change. He’d shaken Sammy awake, wrapped his arms around him and fell back asleep curled up next to him to make sure Sammy slept through the night.

Sammy told him again and again, with a lack of eye contact and pink cheeks, that it really wasn’t necessary, that he could take care of himself. To which Ben always replied that Sammy had done enough taking care of himself in the last three years and it was someone else’s turn now.

i'm bleeding, i'm not just making conversation by helloearthlings

“I – I don’t know how to say it,” Sammy says, desperately wanting to because he just wants someone to understand, but he knows Jack can’t no matter how hard he tries, and Sammy’s so ashamed already even without his best friend knowing he’s faked his entire life. “I think I’ve been trying to say it all my life, but I can’t, I just can’t, I can’t say this out loud. Every goddamn choice I’ve ever made, every decision, every fucking – personality trait – it’s all fake, it’s all to stay hidden, I don’t think I’m a real person, I really don’t think I’m real.”

[Sammy's internalized homophobia over the years.]

living for the right now by helloearthlings

The crib isn’t all that’s in the box. There’s a stack of kids’ books – Dr. Seuss, mainly. A couple of onesies. One of them is yellow and has a giraffe pattern on it, the other green with turtles.

What really gets Ben is a little brown bear, barely bigger than Ben’s hand when he picks it up with all the reverence he can muster. It’s got a big, bright smile, little black nose, and says I Love You Beary Much on the heart in its paws.

“Oh,” Ben hears Sammy’s voice whisper from somewhere behind him. His voice is very soft and thick, like he’s choking tears back.

That’s when Ben breaks, little sobs coming out of his mouth that he just can’t help.

Oh Bondage, Up Yours

neversaydie

Part 1 of Kink Falls AM (Note: I don’t normally rec smut fics, but this series is a character study with an amazing amount of depth that just happens to be centred around kink. Very well written.)

In which Sammy and Jack's less than vanilla sex life becomes apparent, Ben is extremely sex positive while trolling, and Sammy is absolutely mortified.

a fever i am learning to live with by helloearthlings

Sammy had never lived alone before he came to King Falls.

[Five times Sammy had to deal with living alone for the first time, and one time Ben put a stop to that.]

#my posts #fic recs #kfam #king falls am #man i HOPE that 'read under the cut' works #if not: i'm so sorry mobile users #long post /#kfam recs

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theangriestpea · 5 years ago

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The Killing Type | One

Summary: Just when Lavender thought things were going great with Sweet Pea, a new girl comes back to turn to turn their entire relationship upside down. Now they have to navigate a world of drug dealers, rival gangs, and co-parenting. Sequel to Mercy Killing. <ao3> <masterlist>

Rating: Mature // Explicit

Pairings: Sweet Pea x OC // eventual Jughead Jones x OC

Warnings: referenced teen pregnancy, referenced sexual assault, cheating/lying, PTSD

Word Count: 5k+

A/N: I cannot believe I wrote this is such a short amount of time, omg. As stated on the final chapter of Mercy Killing, this is a sequel to both Mercy Killing and @the-gargoyle-queen‘s fic Young Gods. The timelines for both are a little screwed up to make them converge. We begin this series at the end of sophomore year with no time between Mercy Killing chapter 16 and Chapter 1 of The Killing Type, and one year after Young Gods. Try not to focus too much on the lack of continuity for the sake of future plot. I think Lily is a bit OOC in this chapter....I made her into an uber bitch and she's not.

Chapter One - A Mercy Killing

Lavender stared at Jughead, not at all understanding what he meant by forgiving Sweet Pea. What had he done this time? Of course the two fought more often than not over petty things but they made up hours, sometimes minutes later. It was just their dynamic. “Who is she?” She pressed as he looked at his buzzing phone again.

“Lily is Sweet Pea’s ex but I think he should really be the one to tell you all of it.” He said, his anxiety starting to show with his tone of voice. Lav made a face that he couldn't quite tell what it meant. “Listen, just try to get his side of things before exploding on him, okay?”

She stiffened, not liking his accusation of her tendency to react dramatically to any inconvenience no matter how minor. “Why did no one tell me about her? All this time and I’ve literally never even heard her name before. I don’t understand what the big deal is!” Her voice started to edge on the side of frantic as panic began to flood through her. Who was this girl and why did no one mention her?

Jughead sighed. “It’s complicated, Lav. Sweet Pea told us not to mention her around him. We all agreed that it would be better for you and him if you just didn’t know what went down between them.”

“So, everyone collectively decided that I, Sweet Pea’s girlfriend, didn’t need to know about someone who was obviously very important to him? Why is he hiding her from me, does he still have feelings for her or something?” She asked, her tone turning accusatory. Jughead put his hands up to try and calm her down, but instead she stood. “Whatever, Jug. I’m going home. Have fun talking to your new best friend.”

“She’s not-!” Before he could finish she had slammed the door behind her. Jughead sighed and sunk down into the old couch. Things were about to get a lot more complicated.

Lavender made a bee-line for her trailer as fast as her short legs would carry her. She was fuming at the thought that everyone kept some big secret from her, and worse of all she was dying to know what it was. She sent a quick text to Sweet Pea, demanding he come over to “come clean” when he was done with his job. Sweet Pea, being ever the oblivious asshole, had no idea what he needed to come clean about but figured the purple haired girl would fill him in when he got there.

Hours later, once Sweet Pea was done running bike parts to Centerville, he walked into the Rhodes trailer having no idea what shit storm was about to be thrown at him.

First of all, he found his girlfriend curled up on the couch in a state of drunkenness that he hadn’t seen her in in many months. Immediately he thought something had happened, she had a PTSD episode or someone made threats. In an instant he was by her side, her thin shoulders in his hands to get her to look at him.

“Who is she?” Lav slurred, eyes red from crying. Every worst case scenario had gone through her head. Was he cheating on her? Did he have some other life that she had no clue about and he was keeping it from her? How could this girl that she knew nothing about cause her so much grief?

Sweet Pea’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Who is who?” He asked, having no inkling of what in the world she was talking about. “Why did you drink so much?”

“Lily Owens.” Lav spat hotly, “Who is she?!” Her voice began to raise with notes of hysteria. She was so worked up and heartbroken and she had no idea why.

His blood ran cold as he stared at her. He had hoped that he could have approached the subject of his ex eventually, when the time was right. But Lavender was so god damn sensitive that he didn’t think that time would ever come. The insecurity she felt after the attack by the Ghoulies was so great that sometimes he felt trapped in that even talking to a girl she didn’t know had her upset.

They had a long talk about it once and she agreed to get it handled in therapy. And she did get better but there were times when he knew she just couldn’t help it. They had broken her so thoroughly that it was going to take time. He sighed softly, trying not to show how aggravated he was. “She’s my ex, Shanna. I was going to wait to tell you this but...She’s coming back to town in a few days and she needs a place to stay...with our daughter.”

“Your what?” Lav asked, somehow finding the fact that he had a child with another woman was way worse than him cheating on her. “You had a kid and never thought to tell me?!” Fresh tears came to her eyes and quickly fell down her face that was flushed pink from inebriation. “Don’t you think that was something I’d need to know?”

He flinched, feeling the hurt roll off of her in waves. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d overreact!”

“Overreact?!” She yelled, her voice finally raising. “Are you fucking kidding me?! You kept a whole ass family secret from me, Sweet Pea! Get out. Just get OUT.”

His eyes narrowed as he stood, releasing his grip from her. “You always do this! You always fly off of the goddamn handle over every little thing. So I have a daughter, so what? I’ve never even met her! Lily ran off pregnant and had her without me there, so yeah I don’t bring it up because I’d rather not think about being a dad at sixteen! You’re not the only fucked up person in this relationship!”

She stared at him with stunned silence and he knew he had gone too far, as he always did. Sweet Pea just huffed angrily before turning and leaving in a manner exactly as she had from the Jones trailer earlier that day.

The next two days, Lavender spoke to no one. Not Jughead, Not Fangs, and especially not Sweet Pea. He hadn’t even bothered to text or to call as she was always the one to give in first. Still, the fact that he wasn’t even trying to patch things up between them only served to hurt her more.

Fangs had left her small apologetic presents at her doorstep. Flowers, snack cakes, chocolate, even a bottle of her favorite rum. While she accepted the gifts, she still refused to speak to him. His messages were all left on read.

Jughead and Toni had both sent only one apology text, while both seemed pretty heartfelt, they were also denied any kind of answer from her. It was only after an hour and a half long intense therapy session did she decide to try and make up with all of them. Her therapist had helped her realize that Sweet Pea was put in a difficult position from the start of their relationship with her trauma and intense insecurity. In the end, she concluded that he wasn’t purposefully trying to hurt her. He was trying to save her. It just ended up blowing up in his face.

She had picked up a carton of Marlboros for him and was walking up to his trailer. She didn’t notice whether or not his bike was on the side of the house, and dismissed the beaten up car parked on the street as a neighbor’s. It could have easily been someone else’s. Or maybe his dad was finally out of rehab?

Knowing that he was possibly still upset with her, she chose not to use her key to walk in. Instead she knocked on the door in her usual fashion and waited, cigarettes in hand. What she didn’t expect (but totally should have) was for a teenage girl to open the door.

She was shorter than Lav by about an inch, brunette, and absolutely stunning. Lavender's heart fell into her stomach. “O-Oh,” She stuttered, “I thought-”

“He’s not home.” The girl said in a somewhat flat tone. She had learned all about the person in front of her from Jughead. He filled her in on all of Sweet Pea’s doings while she was gone. “But you can come in and wait for him. He’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The door opened wider and Lavender looked inside, noticing that now the trailer was littered with baby clothes, toys, and assorted things necessary to take care of a child. The scene made it all too clear to Lavender that Lily, who she assumed opened the door, was now living with Sweet Pea. Suddenly she was breaking all over again and the progress she made in therapy was virtually gone.

“I should go.” Lavender mumbled, unsure of where she fell in this new hierarchy. “Can you just tell him that I came by? I need to talk to him.”

“You’re Lavender, right?” Lily asked and she nodded in response. “I’m Lily. I think we should talk. Come in, it’ll be easier than standing out here. Daisy is asleep so don’t worry about her.”

Lav did not at all feel comfortable talking to her, but the backfiring of a nearby car put her so on edge that she had no choice but to hide inside. She felt idiotic by being set off at a time like this. The intense need to hide somewhere where she felt safe overrode her discomfort with the situation at hand.

Lily seemed to have some knowledge of what was going through the other girl’s head. She noticed her jump and frantically check her surroundings at the loud sound. Jughead and mentioned her PTSD and that Lily should tread carefully for the time being. After knowing what happened with the Ghoulies, Lily ultimately felt pity for Lavender and not contempt...Though if she were completely honest, there was a little of that too.

It was clear to Lily that Lavender was very disoriented by the sudden amount of baby things around the living room, as well as an open suitcase that had all of Lily’s belongings in them.

The current girlfriend sat down on the chair that Sweet Pea fell asleep in way too often and sunk down into the cushions as if she were trying to disappear from sight. Lily took a seat on the couch, wondering if the awkwardness was going to go away any time soon.

“So you live here?” Lav finally asked, nearly flinching under the look Lily gave her. The question seemed much too obvious, of course she was living here. She had nowhere else to go.

“Yes.” Lily said, her voice a little more curt than she initially intended. “We needed a place to stay since my mom stayed in Toledo. Sweet Pea said it was okay. Is there a problem with that?”

“No! Not at all.” Lavender said quickly, wishing she had turned and ran when she had the chance. “Sweet Pea just didn’t tell me…”

Lily huffed, of course he didn’t. “We need to talk about that.” Of course, she still had residual feelings for the serpent. He was the father of her child. And the way he had ended things were so messed up. Plus he had said when she came back they could start all over. Obviously that wasn’t going to happen now.

“I get that you’re his girlfriend now. I mean, I never expected him to pick a Northsider over…” She stopped, seeing the hurt expression on Lavender’s face brought on a wave of guilt. “You really had no idea about me, did you?”

“No…” Lav said, her voice so soft that Lily almost didn’t hear it. “We never talked about past relationships. Look, I really need to go. Can you just give these to him for me?” She asked, motioning towards the carton of cigarettes in her lap.

“When did you start dating?” She asked, her tone serious.

“Three months ago but we hooked up the July before that….” Lav admitted, not wanting to withhold anything.

“July?” Lily asked and Lav sensed the anger in her voice. “I knew he was cheating on me. I knew it.” She hissed under her breath, not meaning for Lav to actually hear her.

Pain ripped through Lavender’s chest. He had still been in a relationship with Lily that night? She felt like she was going to throw up. She abruptly stood. “I-I’m sorry, I…” She didn’t know what she could say to make any of this better.

“I’m not blaming you.” Lily quickly said after a small sigh. “You didn’t know….How could you have known that I was about to give birth to his daughter? Of course he’s so fucking selfish he didn’t even say anything about it to either of us.”

Lav was holding back tears to the best of her ability. The thought of being the other woman, even for just one night, made her want to lock herself up and drink herself into oblivion. Really she only stayed away from the unhealthy coping mechanism when Sweet Pea was around. Right now, it didn’t seem as if he’d have time to be around for very long. He had a baby to take care of.

“I’m sorry,” She apologized again, really just having no idea how to handle this situation. She backed towards the door, reaching for the handle when it swung open. Sweet Pea was there, looking as tired as ever. A confused look crossed his face when he saw the tears threatening to fall from Lavender’s eyes.

“Shanna?” He asked, not knowing what Lily had done to make her upset...if she had done anything. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to apologize but.” She was too upset to be angry at anyone other than herself. “I need to go home. I got you some cigarettes...here.” She shoved them into his hands before nimbly squeezing past him and running off.

Sweet Pea looked down at the carton before looking up at Lily. “What did you do ?” He asked, his voice threatening to raise.

“You slept with her before you broke up with me.” Lily said, her voice low but angry. “You didn’t end things until August. You said, you said we could start over if I came back, Sweet Pea. You promised me that we would try for Daisy.”

He felt utterly lost. He had loved Lily so much but her leaving had him feeling so alone that he needed something . His dad had started his first stint in rehab and had been in and out since. He was so completely alone with no one to hold at night. Initially he had felt terrible about it but the guilt went away because in the end she had left him when she said she never would.

“You left, Lily. What did you expect?” He asked, his voice icy. “You abandoned me like everyone else did. How did you think I could continue to love you after that?” Her hand reared back and slapped him hard across the face, the sound bouncing off the walls of the trailer. And deep down he knew that he deserved nothing less.

Lavender returned to her trailer, attempting to put herself back together. She had truly wanted to work things out with Sweet Pea and didn’t have the strength to curse him to hell when she saw him. And the look on his face when he saw her. Past his confusion was definite regret. The softness of his eyes made her want nothing more than to be held by him. She wasn’t sure if that was ever going to happen now.

She eyed the bottle of rum on her kitchen counter and she knew that she should resist it’s calls. Did she really want to wake up with a hangover tomorrow? It seemed better than feeling heartbroken at his point.

As she reached for it, she heard a knock on her door. Lav let out a sigh of relief to have been stopped before she drowned herself yet again. She went to the door to see her boyfriend standing there, looking equal parts pissed off and broken down. His left cheek was bright red and starting to bruise and she knew that Lily must have hit him.

She said nothing as she opened the door for him and he walked in, hands clenched into fists. He was clearly agitated but not at her. That was evident enough in him not screaming at her when she opened the door. He saw the bottle of alcohol sitting out in the open and made a straight line to it.

Lav felt as if she were about to cry again, this time for him. Because like her, Sweet Pea also had a habit of hitting the bottle when he felt like the lowest of the low. Of course, she was still very much heart broken by his actions before but seeing him in pain was a whole new kind of ache. It was one that she found herself hating more.

“Wait,” She called out just as he grabbed the bottle by the neck. “Pea, can we talk first? I promise not to yell at you…” Her voice showed her weakness, but she didn’t really mind since he was the one hearing it.

Sweet Pea let out a tired sigh and nodded. He carried the bottle to the couch and sat down with a heavy thud, keeping the rum in hand as if in case of emergency. Lav gently sat down next to him, turned sideways on the seat to face him fully. “Can you just...explain to me what’s going on?”

“I fucked up.” Sweet Pea said, scowling at himself, “again.”

She knew his biggest fear right now was her leaving him. While she thought she had abandonment issues, his own were far worse. “Just tell me what happened.” She said, her voice gentle to show that her being upset wasn’t as important as what was going on with him currently.

“I loved her, you know? I didn’t mean for her to get pregnant.” Sweet Pea said, his voice extremely quiet. He very rarely opened up like this. And him doing it sober was a first. “Then she left. She left like everyone else leaves. And you’re probably going to leave too because I always mess everything up. I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend or baby daddy or whatever. I’m just a teenager. I just don’t know.”

Lav put a hand on his leg, moving closer to him as a few stray tears escaped her eyes. “I’m not leaving you. I just want to know everything. That’s it. I’m sorry I blew up on you the other day. I should have let you have a chance to explain. It seems that I don’t know how to be a good girlfriend either…”

He let out another sigh as he set the bottle down on the table in front of him and pulled her into his arms. He hated for anyone to see him like this, but he hated being alone even more.

He buried his face into her blonde roots and just breathed in the scent of her vanilla shampoo. Lav nuzzled her face into his chest, listening to him breathe. "I told her I'd try, Shanna. Before you. Before everything. I promised her."

Lavender squeezed her eyes shut, having no idea why she was going to say what she was about to. "If you have to," she couldn't even say it. "I understand, Sweet Pea. It's okay. I'll be okay."

That wasn't what he wanted to hear, but he appreciated her willingness all the same. "Can I stay here tonight? One last time?"

She couldn't stop the silent tears from coming and in truth she didn't want to. "Of course, Pea. One last time."

The next morning, Lavender awoke to find herself alone in her bed. The spot where Sweet Pea had slept the night before was still warm. She sighed softly, not having the emotional energy to even cry over the loss of their intimate relationship. Could they even function as friends? They weren’t friends before they started dating, so how could she expect them to be after? She had no idea what she was going to do without him by her side almost every night. Perhaps it was time to talk to Fangs again.

She called him over after attempting to shower the sadness off of her. She put on clean underwear and lounge-wear as she waited for him to come over. Fangs came crashing through the door like a puppy who had missed his owner, grinning at her and quickly making his way to the couch.

He stopped grinning when he saw the forlorn expression on her face. “What’s wrong, babe?” He asked, taking her hands into his.

“We broke up last night.” She muttered. “Because he...he promised Lily before we were together that they could start over when she returned.”

Fangs was frowning. While he loved both Lily and Sweet Pea, he had long since come to the conclusion that they were much better as friends and not as lovers. But, he also knew that Sweet Pea intended to keep any promise he had made if he could. And though he could tell his friend was visibly upset, he was surprised to not find her crying and drinking. Despite it being only ten AM.

“I wish I had told you, Lavie.” He said in a quiet voice, pulling her into his chest to try and soothe the heart he knew to be aching in her chest. “I’m so sorry. You deserved to know. I just thought...you were doing so well…”

“It’s okay, Fangs.” She mumbled, her voice muffled by his t-shirt. “You had made a promise too. I just...I just don’t know where to go from here. I mean, I thought that I might...you know…”

He pulled her away, looking over her flushing face. “That you might love him?”

She groaned, “please don’t say it out loud. It sounds so stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He bit back, almost angrily. “It’s not stupid at all. Come on, let’s go to the quarry. It’s finally warm enough to swim!”

Lavender froze. She had many plaguing thoughts about wearing a bathing suit in front of others. While all her wounds had healed perfectly well, she still had long, thick bands of scar tissue across her thighs and stomach, with a few smaller ones on her chest. Sweet Pea was so far the only one she had let see them since she was able to shower alone and clothe herself. The thought of anyone else possibly seeing them made her sick to her stomach.

“I don’t feel like getting wet, I just took a shower.” She lied, hoping he wouldn’t call her on it. Unfortunately today was not a day that Fangs was feeling particularly intuitive.

He cocked his head to the side, “but you love to swim. It’ll cheer you up!”

“I don’t have a bathing suit that fits.” She lied again, hoping that maybe he’d either catch the hint or drop it. “My boobs got bigger over the winter and mine are all too small now.”

His eyes looked at her chest as if to examine it. If it were anyone else, she’d be offended, however it was him so she knew it was not meant to be explicitly lewd. “They look about the same to me. You can always wear a bra or something instead.”

Lavender wanted to hit him upside the head for being so dense. She knew he wasn't purposefully being obtuse but it was still grating her nerves. “Fangs. I don’t want to go swimming.” Her voice was a little more firm now in an attempt to get through to him.

A puppy-dog look crossed his face as he pouted at her. “But...Lavie...it’ll be fun…You can wear some of my trunks if you want?”

She let out a sigh of defeat, “alright. Bring me some with a drawstring so I can tie them tight otherwise they’ll just fall right off.” His pout was replaced with a broad smile as he all but cheered with success.

Fangs left but was back five minutes later with a pair of black swim trunks for her. He happily handed them over as she went into her room to change. She put on a purple bikini, which still fit perfectly fine, before putting on his pants. She then put on an old form-fitting T-shirt that kept all of her scar tissue covered.

As she looked herself over in the mirror, she frowned. She looked utterly ridiculous but it was better than exposing the truth. She didn’t want anyone to be reminded of that day back in early January.

She finally came out of the bedroom to see Fangs packing a bag of snacks and a cooler of beer for them. “Jones and Topaz are meeting us there. I hope that’s okay.” He said, his back turned to her.

“That’s fine…” Lav mumbled awkwardly. She had already forgiven them as well, and hoped that they’d help her forget about her ruined love life.

They made it to the quarry, the sun shining high above them. Toni and Jughead were on the small beach, clad in their swim gear already. They both gave Lavender strange looks at her attire. “My, uh...bikini doesn’t fit anymore.” She said, but the only one to catch the lie this time was Toni who gave her a worried look.

“Lily will be here in a few with Daisy.” Jughead said as he typed a message onto his phone. A panicked look crossed Lavender’s face.

“Jughead...why would you do that?” She asked as Toni elbowed him in the ribs. He looked up, appearing like a deer in headlights. It hadn’t really occurred to him how awkward it might be for her. Really he just wanted to hang out with her, having missed her all these months. It had almost been a full year since he’d seen her last.

Toni sighed, obviously aggravated by his lack of thought. “Lily is cool, Lavie. Don’t worry about her.”

Lavender tried not to think about their only interaction. Lily had called her a Northsider, reminiscent of Sweet Pea back before they were dating. It was an insult that she hated. She couldn’t help that she had grown up mostly on the Northside or that she didn’t dress like a typical Serpent. She enjoyed soft colors a bit too much and flannel looked terrible on her.

“Okay.” Lav forced herself to say as she plucked a can of beer out of the cooler Fangs had brought. “I guess meeting Sweet Pea’s daughter would be kind of cool.”

“That’s the spirit!” Fangs said cheerfully as he stripped off his shirt. “Let’s go!”

He attempted to pull her into the water. “Fangs! I’m trying to drink, I’ll join you in a minute!” She pleaded with him, trying her best not to spill any PBR in the process.

“Oh fine, you have five minutes so you better chug it or I’m throwing you in.” He let her go, shaking his head before him and Toni raced to the water.

Jughead was quiet. “You broke up with him.” He said, his voice low so that the others wouldn’t hear. “So he could be with Lily….”

“Yea.” Lav replied as she took a gulp from the can.

"I know why you're wearing that ridiculous get-up, Lavie." He mumbled to her. "You don't have to hide it from us. I'm sure they're barely noticeable."

She frowned, refusing to look at him. "I didn't want to come at all. This was a compromise with Fangs. He was too dumb to figure it out."

Jughead grabbed a beer for himself and sat down, motioning her to join him. She sat down next to him on the makeshift log bench. "Figures. At least his heart is in the right place."

They watched Toni and Fangs splash one another. "How are you holding up, really?" He finally asked.

She opened her mouth to answer when she saw Sweet Pea, Lily, and Daisy approaching, she quickly shut it. "Don't worry about it." She said, throwing her head back to finish off the beer in her hand.

Jughead frowned, wanting her to open up but also knowing that she wouldn't now. Who knows if she ever would. He knew that the progress she had made was about to backslide thanks to her and Sweet Pea no longer being together. Despite the rocky beginning, they truly were good for one another.

He wanted to say something encouraging, but failed at the sight of Lily. This did not go unnoticed by Lavender who was sure to bring it up later.

Sweet Pea wouldn’t look at her. He was carrying Daisy, who at nine months looked exactly like him. Lavender wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to stand the sight. Her chest was so heavy that she was worried that she’d sink when she got into the water. If she got into the water.

Lily gave her a strange look. “Are those Fangs’?” She asked, nodding her head towards the trunks Lav was wearing. It wasn’t mean spirited, rather just honest curiosity.

“Yea. My bikini is too small so I asked to borrow his shorts.” Lavender said, her tone even and not bearing any ill will. The atmosphere surrounding them was completely uncomfortable and Lav had no idea what to say.

“Jug, can I talk to her alone for a minute?” Lily asked, her voice gentle and there was a small smile on her face. Jughead nodded and stood, patting Lav on the back briefly before walking closer to the shoreline.

Sweet Pea glanced at the two of them, wanting to listen to whatever Lily had to say but also knowing she’d probably yell at him if he did. He begrudgingly moved towards the water with his very excited little girl.

Lily waited until both boys were out of earshot. She turned and looked at Lavender who was toeing the dirt with the tip of her shoe. “Thank you.” Lily said, her voice genuine. “You didn’t have to break up with him.”

Lavender couldn’t help the hurt sigh that left her, “Yes I did. He made a promise and I wanted him to keep it.”

“I mean, you didn’t have to because I’m not taking him back.” Lily said. She wasn't hostile but there was anger hidden somewhere in her tone. Lavender mistook it to be directed towards her when it was truthfully towards Sweet Pea. “He cheated on me. And to be honest, I can’t be sure that he won’t do it again.”

“You left him.” Lavender said back, jumping to his defense. “What did you expect?”

Lily’s gaze hardened. “I expected some common decency from the man who told me he loved me. What I didn’t expect is for him to stick his dick in someone else just because things between us got hard. All he had to do was talk to me. He could have broken it off first before pursuing other people.”

Lavender was sitting rigidly on the log, daring to look up at Lily. Her hazel eyes encapturing a mixture of rage and pain. But Lily wasn’t done. “I’m sorry for what the Ghoulies did to you, I am. But he can’t fix you. And it’s not fair to put that responsibility on him either. He needs to be a father to Daisy right now. That’s what’s important.”

She was speechless, unable to come up with anything to say in return. While Lily had a valid point, it hurt tremendously to hear it. Lavender stood and Lily backed up to give her space. “This was a mistake.” She said, obviously talking about coming to the quarry. She took a few steps before stopping and turning back towards Lily. “And for the record. You don’t know a single thing about me. So maybe you should stop assuming the type of relationship I had with Sweet Pea. That’s between us. Not you.”

She turned back, grabbing Fang’s keys from his pile of things and leaving. The only one to notice her departure was Sweet Pea, who failed to mask the pained expression on his face at the sight of her go.

-----------

Tag List: @the-gargoyle-queen, @alexa-playafricabytoto If you want to continue to be tagged in the sequel, just let me know!

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#sweet pea #sweet pea x oc #thekillingtype #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea fanfiction #purpuraserpenta #lavender rhodes #swavie #riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale imagine #lily owens #jughead jones #fangs fogarty #toni topaz #sweet pea fanfic #jordan connor

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thequeenb · 5 years ago

Note

Imagine MC being in a poly relationship with Kamilah and Priya 🤤😍😏

Sorry for taking my time anon

Priya Lacroix. The sexy seductive fashion designer everyone crave. She is spontaneous and adventurous, her presence enough to make anyone fall to their knees, exactly where she wanted them. Her body was like god created her himself, but she was the definition of femme fatale, dangerous but so damn hot.

And then there was Kamilah Sayeed. A cynical and cold person if you will. She never showed her emotions but her eyes never lied. Something about her presence makes you want to be devoured by her. The way she speaks, the way she walks and the way her eyes turn burning red are intoxicating enough to draw anyone in. Her silouet and her body movements show well how dominant she is, something that makes you curious.

Amy signed sitting back on her desk chair. Priya and Kamilah were both her weaknesses, she loved their company for different reasons, still a hint of guilt creeped inside of her.

"Amy" Kamilah said, waking her up from daydreaming. "Oh hey Kamilah" she responded before she turned back to he laptop "working". Kamilah considered well her next words "I have some papers in my office that i would like you to pick up for Adrian"

Amy nodded "i will come by tomorrow". Kamilah should have just agree and leave without a word but she stood there like a stubborn child. "I was thinking now is the best time". As these words left her mouth Amy's heart started racing, the CEO hardly gave her glances when everyone else were around, but in private..oh in private she gave much more than that.

"Oh um..yes sure" she responded almost hesitantly, she knew exactly where this was going. "Right then follow me" Kamilah gestured at the door, Amy would even follow her through the gates of hell if she had to.

After a silent ride they arrived in Kamilah's office. Amy had been there before but it somehow felt different, each step leading to something more intimate than just work.

Kamilah grabbed a bottle of wine pouring it into the glasses.

Amy arched her brow "I thought we were here for work". Kamilah gave her look over her shoulder that she couldn't quite read, was it disappointment? Or hungrer?

"All in due time, but the door" she gestured at the big wooden door "is right there if you want to go". Something about Kamilah's presence tonight felt different, flirty. Amy grabbed a glass drinking it almost desperately.

After a few moments of Amy drinking non stop when she finally felt enough alcohol running through her veins she stepped closer to Kamilah "i don't think you invited me here for work" she admitted noticing Kamilah's surprised expression. "My intentions are not--"

"Shush..i know what you want" Amy placed her hands around Kamilah's neck. If she was sobber she wouldn't even think of it, but right now the alcohol was speaking and it made a great speech.

"Amy.." Kamilah's eyes were fixed on the woman Infront of her. She could tell she was drunk, she should just drive her to her apartment but then she felt a pair of lips crushing hers, a surprised sound escaped her lips. Amy was kissing Kamilah hungrily, desperately. Months of craving her slipped from her tongue into Kamilah's mouth.

In an instant Kamilah pinned Amy against her desk. "What do you want Amy?" her voice was so sexy, seductive. Amy arched her back a low moan escaping her lips, Kamilah's voice was enough to send pleasure through her entire body.

"I want you" Amy said as Kamilah kissed her neck "Say it again" she now bit her sensitive spot gaining a moan out of the girl.

"I want you!!" she said now more hungrily the anticipation killing her. Kamilah smirked "good girl". The night went by as expected, Amy screamed endlessly Kamilah's name as every concern melted away.

Amy woke up feeling a warm body next to her. Blinking a couple of times she remembered how she ended up here, a satisfied grin appeared on her face.

Carefully she grabbed her phone and opened it 4 missed calls from Lily, 2 messages from Adrian and oh..a message from Priya.

Standing up she ran for the bathroom. It was 4:00am what could she possibly wants.

"Hey delicious human..i have some information Adrian might need, i will wait for you" what happened to everyone tonight? Everyone used the work as en excuse to get into Amy's pants. She didn't complain thought, having attention by two goddesses is intended an experience.

Amy signed considering her options. She didn't want Kamilah to think she is just a game but then again she was cold to her that it didn't matter. On the other hand Priya was waiting for her, she didn't want her to wait to long.

Dressing up she left the penthouse, her heart was racing again, all this adventure made her adrenaline reach its top. Waving her hand she stopped a taxi, her destination Priya's mansion.

When she arrived outside of that glorious home she was always amazed by she swallowed hard, Priya could kill her at any moment, but thats what made it exciting the danger.

When the door opened she was greeted by Priya herself, not her houseboys. "Hello darling" she said leaning in, kissing both ot Amy's cheeks.

Amy smiled getting inside. Priya sat on the couch, two glasses of wine rested on the table Infront of it. Priya Indeed knew Amy would pay a visit.

"There is nothing work related in this meeting is it?" Amy said drinking her wine, Priya smirked. That damn smirk was so sexy. "If you will be a good girl maybe there will be" she said placing a hand on Amy's thigh digging her nails just enough to hurt. Amy gasped "oh um.." she dared to look into these brown eyes that were drawing her in. "Less talking, more kissing" Priya said as she pulled Amy closer, her lips finding hers.

Amy gasped when she felt a pair of hands on her breasts. Priya wasn't someone who could wait. "Mmm the things i want to do to you" she said biting the girl's lip. "Then show me" Amy said, surprised at her confidence. Priya smiled "oh i will sure do" and like that she pushed Amy to the couch, her hands traveling down her body.

After a long night of screaming both of their names she returned to her apartment, exhausted but satisfied.

The next day she was once again at her desk when she heard two pairs of heels clicking violently into her direction. Curious she looked over her desk and saw Kamilah and Priya walk towards her. An instant panic grew inside of her, these two together were a bad combination. It looked like they were racing, one running faster than the other.

Finally they both reached Amy's desk speaking at the same time "Amy would you--"

They shared a look "Stop copying--" ignoring eachother they turned their attention back to Amy "Would you like to--". Amy chuckled, that sight was not expected. "Why are you here Lacroix?" Kamilah spoke with that scary cold voice she always has. "What are you doing here grandma?" Priya said rolling her eyes.

"I am here to ask Amy out" she said giving Amy a smile. Kamilah scoffed "And why would she want that?" Amy felt her heart would jump out of her chest as she watched the two women fighting for her.

Priya smirked "she didn't complain last night"

Kamilah arched her brow looking directly into Amy's eyes "Thats why you weren't there when i woke up?" her tone was now more angry. "You and grandma???" Priya was shocked never in her wildest dreams she could imagine Kamilah letting loose.

Priya flipped her hair "she is all yours i lost my interest" and like that she disappeared leaving an angry Kamilah behind. "Really? With her?" Amy's cheeks were red "We aren't in a relationship or something" she said smirking "Now then, i have more important things to do" she said before leaving.

Just when Amy consecrated on her work she once again heard heels clicking from the left and the right. Kamilah and Priya both ran back at her desk "So about my offer"

"You can visit me again my delicious human".

Priya and Kamilah gazed at each other with red eyes. Amy giggled as she looked between them, pure anger in both of their eyes. "Ughhh!!" they both said in sync leaving frustrated. Amy smiled to herself, she had them where she wanted them.

#kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed #bb kamilah #priya lacroix #choices bb #bb #bb fanfic #request anon #bloodbound

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courtorderedcake · 5 years ago

Text

Hallow Chapter xiii - CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Read on AO3 here.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Ch / ?? - In which they will always find each other, but it may cause an argument

Waking up next to her should have embarrassed him, should have absolutely mortified both of them from the impropriety of the action, even clothed. It felt right, though, or even safe, but it was another strange magic that he didn't want to ask about. There had been a moment of uncertainty when she woke up, her eyes alert immediately as she looked at him, then relief until he whispered a rough good morning. Panic had set in, and her eyes screwed shut as she tensed, whispering to herself. Not knowing what to do, he rose to leave, only to have her grip his wrist.

Her eyes were wide, but the fear was easing. "No. I just, I just need a moment. I thought it was real. Sometimes you feel so right, and I forget where we are. Wait, have you and I… We haven't been intimate, have we?" Her voice raised in its pitch, and Killian choked out a cough. His face burned and he would not look anywhere but the ceiling.

"No!" Emma blushed as well, and he looked at her shyly for just a moment before looking at his feet. “No. Nothing like that. You just sleep better next to me, and I… I sleep better too.”

"Oh. That's… Thank you for doing this, then. I feel tired to my bones. It never stops, this exhaustion."

"What could I do to make it easier for you?" he whispered, and she laughed, closing her eyes to pinch at the bridge of her nose. "Emma?"

"It's just - I don't know how to deal with this, with you, this early. You're so kind, so nice! And it makes me feel…" Her eyes opened in irritation, hand touching his cheek as something lurked just below the surface, hiding what she wasn't saying. Gently letting her fingers trace through his stubble, she searched his face.

Leaning closer, he pressed a kiss to her palm, whispering to her contentedly. "Makes you feel what exactly?"

"We could have been -"

Lilly rapped at the door frame, completely nonplussed by his presence in Emma's bed, or their current closeness.

"Isaac and Cruella ask of you tomorrow," she drawled, before picking at a long fingernail. "You'll need your strength, and to be ready. I couldn't persuade them, and I'm sorry."

Emma was up in an instant, pleading with her friend. "Please Lilly. You told me we were friends, I can't keep doing this. Last time made me forget, and I -" Killian could barely hear as they walked to the small bunk Lilly kept. She didn't sleep in the house, which Killian found strange, but Lilly herself was strange. She had appeared shortly after Emma, but had always been Emma's shadow and caretaker. It was just normal, along with her disappearing for months, sometimes years. Standing, he crept to the door frame, straining to hear.

Emma called for him, told him to let himself out and she would meet him at the library. Not willing to miss this chance, he waited instead, listening to the women argue.

"I don't know either, but Cruella is demanding another session," Lilly was hissing. "You still have to fulfill your promises, and yeah, I do regret this, Emma. But what choices do I have? Neither of you are exactly the picture of suffering!"

"We are! This isn't real, and I can't stand the thought of what will happen when it's over. I made a promise, but it wasn't for this. It never included -"

"Oh boo hoo, he's happy. He's not a villain. You get to live ages together. Is that really what you want me to bemoan with you? Complaining that you are both content?" Lilly's voice was raised, anger lacing each word. "And you, you are the one spending time with him! If you are that scared, stay away from him and make it clear that you aren't -"

"That's not fair," Emma's voice wavered. "You know that's not fair. This is not a reward fitting the consequences - "

"It’s not? Or is it because you are scared you feel something for him?" Lilly wasn't visible, but he could hear the triumph in her tone.

"I - This isn't him. It's confusing, and I hate it. I don't know if this is some trick, or -"

"Oh Emma," Lilly laughed darkly. "Do you think that any of us have that much control? It's his memories, or his thoughts, because you're giving him power here. It's whatever he is underneath, mixed up with anything you added. Your memories and his are one giant pool, and you're just going to have to wait it out. This is on you. You helped sustain his memory of whatever her name was for far longer than - "

"Milah. Her name was Milah," Emma snarled. "This is the furthest we've ever gotten, because we keep finding each other - and whenever we do, everything falls apart. I am getting weaker every iteration. I can't keep giving you my power and sustaining this without completely losing myself - then who will bring him back? Who will bring me back?"

"I won't let them do that, Emma, I will protect -"

"Could you honestly stop them? If the answer is no just stop. Lilly, I'm scared."

Killian listened, confused but with a strange feeling of expectation as he tried to understand the vague feeling of anger he held. He shifted, able to peek around the corner without being seen.

"Then tell them that! Tell them you refuse sessions until you've had time to rest."

"I have. I know I have. I never should have brokered this deal, it felt off. Killian was the reason I said yes to it, and even he was acting bizarre. I know you wanted to think it was you, but he was the tipping point."

Lilly looked at her oddly, her face paling. "How was he acting bizarre? When did you talk about it?"

"He was - he brought it up that I should take the deal. I asked and he said you had told him, but he was just, his mannerisms were so strange. He acted like -"

"Like Cruella?" Lilly asked, her voice going low, and serious. "Emma, I didn't tell Killian anything. He came to me and said he was drugged, darted with kraken's ink and a potent dose of belladonna. If he wasn't the Dark One he would have died ."

Killian felt like he'd been dipped in cold water at the mention of a darkness, his spine turning to a column of ice. The feeling passed as quickly as it came.

"Instead, he said he woke up to find out that you went under. He was furious, said that he should have protected you, and I begged him to take the draught to reach you in sleep like I had. He did after yelling at me for being an idiot, and now he's here. He has never known what is happening with my people or me, never agreed to let you do this. If these aren't your memories -"

"They're his. That's the only explanation. I wouldn't be surprised if some of yours are mixed up in these too, but I can't remember a lot that came before any longer."

Lilly shifted nervously, grimacing. "I guessed as much, but this is insane - What are you going to do? Being in his head with the Darkness - If you really are forgetting more each time, or all of it, how do we know this is really him, or if the Darkness can get to you or - "

"I'm going to tell him everything. He's real. I trust him." Emma said firmly, taking a few steps towards his location. "I'm absolutely sure the Darkness isn't here. It's just him." He froze, but Lilly stood, shaking her head with a small smile.

"'Just him'." Lilly laughed. "You don't just trust him, you love -"

"I know. I know Lilly. Gods help me should I ever escape, he will never feel the same," Emma muttered, her blushing face making the green in her eyes so bright when they met his as he stood from his hiding spot.

Stepping out of her room, he ignored her sputtering protests and roughly brought her lips to his. She melted into the kiss, hands going from fluttering in surprise to gripping his shoulders to pull him closer, his tongue chasing hers tentatively.

Lily groaned, throwing her hands up. "Gross," she muttered, and sat in a dining chair with a huff.

"Well, hi," Emma sighed out, murmuring against his lips. His forehead touched hers, and she smiled up at him radiantly.

"Good morning."

"I have wanted that for so many, many mornings, so yes. It is a good morning at last," Emma whispered, her fingers holding tightly just below the hair at the nape of his neck, their next kiss broken by Lilly's loud throat clearing.

"I don't know which I like worse, you pining after each other or you pawing at each other. Just mate and be done with it, Fiore I beg thee," Lilly groaned. Emma giggled lightly and Lilly grumbled as she made her way out the door. "I'll be back in one hour to plan. Get your fill of face sucking until I return. If you forget after Cruella makes her move, it's likely going to take a while before it happens again."

"Lilly?" Emma called after her friend.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for looking after us. If I forget again, remember how happy I am that you are watching out for me," Emma said with sincerity. Killian felt a twinge of anger he could not explain, an itch at the back of his mind that tried to move forward.

Lilly looked sad, but blushed bashfully. "Don't thank me, Emma. Besides, what are friends for?"

She left, lingering in the doorway for just a moment while Emma tightly hugged him, before shutting the door quietly behind her. Killian had the vague memory of a dragon burning down a castle, Emma calling the dragon a traitor as it flew, asking it why, begging it to stop while using its name - Lilly.

The thought never passed his lips, Emma sending him to the floor to press herself against him.

"I've wanted to kiss you again so badly here, so many times when you told me that the lives we were together in weren't real -"

"Emma," He pulled away abruptly, concerned. "I understand that both you and Lilly buy into this idea that we all are cursed, but I need you to understand that a future together means letting that go."

"But - you don't believe me? Please, I'm not crazy, I -"

Killian shook his head, gently smoothing her curls. "No one said anything about you being crazy, love. Please, just listen."

"You are accusing me of imagining this then, that's it? And Lilly's just what, tolerating me or placating me?" Emma looked at him with clear upset, pulling off of him and back to sit on her heels. "Don't be pedestrian -"

"I need you to hear me out, please." Sitting up, he grabbed for her hands with his own, his hook against her thigh. Her distrusting look of appraisal did not send him comfort. "Milah wrote me letters, she said she saw the way you looked at me and how I looked at you, but she wanted you to be better. She thought both of us deserved a chance where you were healthy of mind."

"I wish you had just remembered." Emma pulled her hands from him, rising to her feet. Killian reached for her, but she shook her head and turned away from him. "You never trust me, or yourself. Don't you feel any sense of this being wrong? Please, Killian."

"If I humor you, will you please consider treatment of some sort? It pains me to see you go into fits, even if it brought you to feel something for me. I don't want to take advantage of that."

"Fine, you want to humor me? How big is this island?" Emma stood, glaring at him with her eyes narrowed. Fire flashed behind the green of her pupils. "Why have your brother and Elsa only shown up when you think they should? And Olaf, that sweet boy, why has he disappeared? Why can't you remember why you have a hook for a hand, or why your father and Nemo have gone without a trace, or even how old you are or what day it is?"

"I - That's - That's preposterous, and insulting to my family -" He stood, shaking his head.

The island was large but had strange terrain, that was true. The Blackwater was rocky cliffs, pine forest, and dark ocean with stone buildings. The Baelfire was shrubby inland swamp and bog with beautiful flower fields. The beach and town were peaceful sandy coves that lead up to apple orchards and pumpkins, all within at most a half hour’s walk in any direction... Why did he not remember the cartography? He was raised to be in the navy, as Liam was, he should be able to say with certainty. And yes, his brother. Liam and Elsa had taken over the Blackwater when Father had gone. Nemo and Father did not check in with him, they were grown men who were probably sailing the warmer coasts. Olaf had to have gone to some school or back to Elsa's kingdom, that was easy enough.

His hook caught the light, and he tried to make out the memory of why it shot pain through him. A shard of something had pierced him, but the memory being foggy was just a side effect. As for his age, he'd stopped caring to count, and as for the day, it was a Saturday because the library opened whenever he felt like it. The library opened whenever he felt like it, but later than usual on Saturday's, and rarely on Sunday's. The pervasive feelings of something not being right or wrongness in some thoughts or feelings regarding memory was just her casting doubt.

"I knew Elsa when she was alive. I know of Liam, from her, from my home, and you. I tried to keep Milah alive for as long as I could. Please, just listen."

"Don't you dare twist her death," he hissed, pointing a finger at her, and advancing slightly. Not Milah. Emma couldn't -

"I'm not twisting anything, Killian. I hated every minute of not being able to keep your memory of her alive. I tried so hard, and it took so much magic just - "

He moved toward the door, now furious himself. "Enough."

Emma blocked his exit, grabbing him roughly to turn him as they moved outside. "Why won't you just believe me? Why can't you trust me, this one time without me being pulled apart to prove it to you? Why can't you just trust yourself enough to know that this is all wrong? You promised me!" Emma screamed at him.

"I thought I could handle this, and I was wrong. If I'm tied into your madness, I refuse to play into it like Lilly does. I can't, I can't do it, and this is why. I'm sorry, Emma." He pushed past, and he heard her frustrated cry as she sat on the stairs leading to the cottage.

He would swear that he heard her say something else as he left, words swallowed by the trees and his own anger.

"I'm so tired of hearing you apologize to me, Killian."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

A day passed by, and Killian steadfastly held onto his anger with Emma despite the nagging voice of reason that tried to corrode his stubbornness. Three parts of his whole argued cyclically : If (A very small if, at that) Emma was mad, he had still promised to help and support her, but had instead acted in anger over something she conceivably couldn't help. If she wasn't mad (a large if), it could be that she brought up his family to push him out of anger, some sort of resentment for her own situation with her orphan past and adoptive family, meaning he had every right to be angry despite her clear emotional distress. If she wasn't mad, and somehow what she was saying was all true about past lives, living ghosts, and false memories (the largest if, by far), he had presumably left her before and she was terrified of the consequences of that abandonment.

It's easier to fight with himself when he's opening the dusty bottle of rum, ignored since Emma had eclipsed his lonely routines.

"Emma! Please love, answer me, I remember and I am sorry -"

Red claws raised, the woman who is not a woman lets Emma crumple at her feet, Isaac and Lilly watching dispassionately from their mounts.

"Too late puppy," she giggles.

He isn't graceful when he throws Emma over his shoulders, running into the woods away from the laughing false queen as she blows her horn. A fox calling a human hunt, his memory laughs at an unamusing joke at their expense. Killian tries to hide them, tries his hardest to nestle them in the gnarled roots of a creek bank. Emma blinks awake, looking at him as a stranger while he begs her to be quiet. When she says his name again, it's with a veneer of defeat.

"It's alright Killian. You won't remember dying here, and it doesn't hurt for long." Her hand tries in a feeble attempt to staunch the bleeding, face going paler as seconds fly by. "A little pain, then it's like falling asleep."

The black and white dogs - no not dogs, foxes - find them with ease. Killian pulls her from hiding to run, and Emma obliges even in her injured exhaustion. They duck behind trees and bushes, hooves growing louder by the second. Emma is calm, her face set in marble, completely impassive unlike he's ever seen her. This is his fault.

"I'm so sorry I left you alone, I didn't -" he tries, but she stops him with a slow shake of her head. She takes his hand as hoofbeats shake the ground. They're going to die, they are going to be killed - no. They're going to be separated, this is what happens when they are taken away from the other, violence to make it easier to rip them apart.

"I'm so tired of hearing you apologize to me, Killian," she whispers, stumbling slightly. The arrows in her back don't feel real, but nothing does because it isn't , and the next volley that hits him hurts for just a moment, before he's waking up to Liam saying someone's washed ashore. The nightmare forgotten in a child's curiosity, lost within another dream.

His head pounded as he woke from too much drink, groaning at the feeling of being so hungover. He couldn't focus, even as his hands pressed into his eyes to abate the throb of his skull. His hand throbbed too, the cut pulsing and angry.

Pulling his hands back slowly in confusion, he looked hard at the gash that halved his palm, the way his fingers have stiffened into a claw like hook, the swollen flesh red and angry. Blinking, he stared in disbelief, until the illusion disappeared before his very eyes and the silver metal of his hook lay heavy on his knee. It shot a not so phantom pain through his arm, and Killian felt ill.

From his home it is a ten minute sprint to the Blackwater, the doors pushed wide open into the courtyard that is being reclaimed by evergreen and moss. It smells like rain, clouds thick in the sky, making it look like a blanket of eggshell and gray set out to block the sun. Liam shouted after him when he ran past, greeting him in confusion while Killian searched for the room he knows he does not remember.

Is a room still a room if it isn't remembered? If a tree falls in it and no one is there to hear, does it still exist?

The door handle was an elegant french curve, but was placed high on the door at just below his chest level, his stomach turning at the memory brought back to this place. He hadn't opened the door since he was twelve, his height not catching up with him until later. The handle was where he would have remembered reaching for it, remembering opening it to see his pale mother waste away in her quiet room until the day she wore her death shroud.

Liam called down the corridor, but Killian pushed the door open regardless, its blurred images and blank areas making bile rise in his throat. The bed was clearly defined, its canopy like a mouth and where Killian had always looked first no matter what. Nothing else in the room could draw his eye from his mother in her pink velvet bed with its many tassels and golden pull cord. The pull cord appeared, falling down from the ceiling to the bedside, his sudden memory of it bringing it into the tableau. Liam reached from behind him and sighed, closing the door.

"Don't do that to yourself little brother," Liam said, solemnly. "Leave her room closed, there's nothing but bad memories of her in there."

Killian couldn't help the insane bubble of laughter that burst from his mouth at the word 'memories', leaving a stunned and purpling Liam behind as he ran from the Blackwater to Emma's cabin. It took ten minutes to get there, and he panted out laughter at the absurdity of the truths Emma had laid out, calling her name. She didn't answer, leaving him to look for her behind her cottage, the beach down the trail, or anywhere else she preferred to go when she needed quiet. It was as if she had disappeared into thin air. A storm was rolling in, his nerves less important than finding Emma. He looped around again, surprised and then not at how easy it was to loop the island. This time he saw a flash of gold in the cliffs that lay just past her cabin.

Emma was pressed tightly to a ledge, sitting to lean against the rock as it crumbled from her scrabbling feet, one hand holding on to a root tightly and the other holding her opposite shoulder. The light muslin gown she wore was dark red under her hand.

"Emma?" he yelled up at her, her wide eyes meeting his. She pressed fingers to her lips in a wince, looking up at the cliffs as if expecting something. Killian began looking for a way up to her, the green smoke pouring over the edge catching him off guard. It swirled over the rocks, its mass forming a shape that resembled a clawed talon.

There was no explanation for how it picked Emma up, and flung her off the cliff face to the hard packed earth below.

Sprinting towards her as fast as his legs could carry him, he ran to where she lay sprawled on her side, her pale dress bright against the dark sand. Panic set in when she did not react at his touch. He brought her into his arms, rubbing her cold limbs. They warmed, and she sputtered, making a small keening noise when she moved. Her breathing was shallow, but she cracked a smile when her eyes opened to meet his own.

"Maybe we should reexamine the idea of you being mad, because I believe that it may be spreading," he whispered, leaning her over so she could cough.

"Killian," Emma sighed in relief when she had caught her breath.

"Darling, I don't know what is happening, but we're going to be alright. I'm sorry I didn't believe you, I'm sorry that I betrayed your trust by leaving you like that. I won't let anyone - " Two figures appeared on the far side of the beach, walking towards them as the sky turned to grey ash. Emma shook her head, panicking.

"I can't keep them from us, I'm too weak. I used everything I could on you and Milah," she whispered, her shoulder very clearly broken as she winced from trying to hold his hand.

Knitting his brow, he looked at their village leaders, Cruella and Isaac, then back to Emma. "Don't worry, it's Isaac and I'll just tell him -"

"No. You don't understand, we don't have time. I'm - Killian, I'm done for here. You don't need to die, you can hide, it will be easier if you hide. I don't want them to punish you. You're defenseless here, and they're going to drain me. Please, find me again. For now, you must go." Emma gave Killian an apologetic smile.

Isaac moved from behind her, wrenching her away with tremendous force. Lilly appeared from down the cliffside, the sky darkening to pitch as she tried to loosen Isaac's grip. Cruella surveyed the scene with a cruel smirk, her profile like ink on silk, eyes predatory as she strode towards him.

"Isaac, it seems that we have some resistance. Emma, isn't it about time you forget about your problems for a bit? Lilly, Killian, don't you want your friend to relax?" Cruella purred. Her words were like mulled wine and honey, and Killian felt his head go fuzzy.

Killian nodded, compelled to let Emma go into Isaac's grip, as Lilly hesitated.

"Please Lilly, don't do this. Please, we're friends. Killian and I have to go -"

Isaac interrupted with a wheezing noise, clamping a hand over Emma's mouth. "Lilly, do you want your cut or not?"

Lilly nodded solemnly.

Emma cried behind Isaac's palm, eyes flickering to look at them all as he searched for a way out as she struggled. The earth shook, the sky almost as dark as pitch, lightning and thunder assaulting the beach. Killian noticed he didn't feel discomfort, not even worry. The warmth in his chest made him feel tired, even as a place in his mind screamed that he needed to focus on Emma, get Emma out -

He let his eyes slowly meet her own, watching as Isaac removed his hand, letting go of Emma, her back arching and fists balling. Her eyes wrenched shut and she trembled, silently screaming, as magic poured out of her into Isaac's slowly moving palm. Isaac sighed, eyes fluttering, and stepped away.

Lilly raised a rock in front of Emma, holding what looked to be a mere smoothed lava stone, but in reality was a magical artifact, and Killian watched as again magic flowed out of Emma's body, curling tendrils softly wrapping around the stone and making it glow slightly. Before Lilly could pull away, Cruella threw her aside, standing in front of Emma with their noses almost touching. Killian felt his heart beat faster, and that voice calling on him to do something, do anything, was so loud now.

"Cruella, don't -" Isaac started, but was thrown aside with a flick of her red fingernails, disappearing into the air. Lilly charged the woman from the side, and Cruella simply laughed, and snapped her fingers, Lilly crumpling nearby.

"Now then. Let's make the best use of this meeting, my sweetly dreaming little princess.” With her black and white hair blowing in the wind, she turned to Killian with a wide grin that made the angles of her face dark with shadows. Her red amulet seemed to smolder, green smoke pouring from around her. "Lover boy can watch so he can see what it is he's up against every time he ruins one of these dreams. It doesn't matter how many you destroy, I'll make sure that she is happy and get what I want. You won't take her from me, puppy."

Emma made a small noise of protest, but Cruella's long fingers sprung out to wrap around her neck. Emma’s eyes shot open, wide and completely white, powerful magic pouring off her while her tears reflected on her cheeks like diamonds.

Killian took a step toward them, and another, stumbling on the now uneven sand. Looking toward the village, he could see it breaking away, floating in places as it caved in on itself. As if the information was always there in his mind, he knew with a dulled realization that his brother, his family, were all long dead or never there.

Cruella's cackle made his head snap to look at Emma, watching as the magic that was like rays of sunshine was being pulled into Cruella's body, the light swirls of it going dark as it touched her. Emma's fists went limp, her fingers uncurling and head beginning to loll, her own magic mixing with the dark of Cruella's, going more of a gray before dimming. Cruella let her drop to the sand, the small patch of beach they all were on the only thing left on a stark white canvas as she disappeared in a cloud of dark black smoke. His legs still felt leaden, but Killian moved in a clumsy and scrabbling crawl towards Emma, finding her barely breathing, her nose and ears bleeding slightly. The beach shrunk further as he cradled her closely, Lilly's unconscious body disappearing.

Fractures appeared around them, the whiteness creeping up with speed. Emma's eyes flickered open briefly, dull and tired, looking up at him with confusion.

"Who…?" she murmured, before falling back into unconsciousness.

The white had crept up all around them, Killian’s foot falling off the crumbling edge he now balanced on, Emma's legs almost pulling him away and into the nothingness. He gathered her closer, pulling her onto his lap, before they fell into the white abyss. It darkened quickly, smoke and debris making them spin, Emma's body tucked into his own.

Stroking her hair he kissed her forehead, whispering softly that they would be alright, their descent either slowing or bodies growing used to the velocity. She didn't answer or stir, her breathing at least steady, but he felt her nose begin to drip again and tore off a piece of his shirt to hold there. She struggled then, frustrated that her nose was blocked most likely, waking briefly.

"What….?"

"Emma, I don't know -"

"Emma? Who…? Who is Emma?" she asked, confused.

"You're Emma, Princess Emma. That's your name, please -"

"I'm Emma? Who are you then? Where are we and why can't I see you?" She touched his face, slowly running her hand over his cheek. "I know you."

"Yes, love. You do. I'm -"

And then he gripped nothing, the hand on his cheek replaced with a gentle stirring of cold air, silence falling around him in the vacuum of where the princess no longer was. He shook his head, suddenly confused. The princess, he'd called her that hadn't he? Memories assaulted him one after the other without mercy.

Yes, the princess, the sleeping princess, her body next to his in the Kitsune cathedral, raised on a dais of marble. Lilly begging him to wake her, his own fears after waking from some attack confirmed, warning that the imprisoned Kitsunes had made their play, and Emma -

Emma was in danger of wasting away, becoming a husk of what she was. She lay so still, he could see the memory of her pale face and body dressed in the crimson color of the apples in their orchard, the square cut of the neckline barely moving. The Darkness had rejoiced and asked the Dragon princess to take the shard, but Killian had fought for her, made the draughts himself from the library to join her, and when he failed, she brought him back again and again.

How many times had he failed her? How many times did she have to whisper for him to remember or to find her, always to find her? That this time he was her savior and the guide out of this place?

Isaac's voice hissed right in his ear, "Come then, villain. We will let you be the hero." Killian fumbled through the smoke, searching for the man flailing through darkness. The world spun faster and faster, the crack to the side of his head mercifully stopping its wandering.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*��･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The real losers in this terrible scheme are as always, the Other's prey: its own kind taken mercilessly. They don't know the secret of their cull, the Other hides her falsehoods from them with care. They believe that the Other is a force of good.

Emma knows better.

An empty husk cannot reveal the Other's secret and her deceit. If Emma were to wake and tell tales of the Other taking more magic than needed, of creating these hollowed out husks to gorge itself, of the monster that waits in shadow to feast, or of its rigging the system to snub even what was once called friend - the result would be turmoil.

It's been easier to fix the game every single attempt, the process growing smooth, but this has been the easiest yet for the Other to win. Usually, the Other's pet, the Author, shares this stolen magic with the island after the unlucky victim burns out, grinding to nothing. They hollow, empty themselves, become hungry ghosts that fall together to have something in their lonely attempts to fill themselves with life. They go willingly to their ends for ideas of glory and duty, of the chance to be a savior; they believe they know the heaviness of the title. It's trickery, trickery that Emma herself has fallen for - a sacrifice that is supposed to be just a marginal chance in a lottery, but this time Emma is here instead. It's a welcome gift the Other cannot believe has fallen into its lap, a hen house full of plump chickens unlike anything the Other dared to dream of, a never-ending meal for its gluttonous creation.

In this place, realities are mixing together and Emma is losing her mind, sometimes even within memories that are not her own; minds immersing in each other in overlap. It is almost too easy for the Other to win this game.

Emma's magic keeps coming without end, magic that is draining steadily to break this curse that Regina and Queen Snow have bungled. A spell that is both broken and at the same time not; cast wrong in the midst of war, cast by a distraught friend turned foe knowing that she must do something to prevent more death. It is a blade with a double edge, the spell meant to banish and preserve under a barrier, its power never anticipated being fought against. The many cracks in the spell have given way to create effects in the spell's makeup, rippling out into a terrible fate that no one could have foreseen. How do creatures made mostly of magic themselves survive without it? The barrier decays slowly, but the magic within leaks free through the cracks. The creature claws at it haplessly, and the Other simply held out until their lucky day.

The chance that Emma can give them freedom is too great to pass up, even if just for a few of them. No one could ever suspect the greater good is only for the few.

Emma falls again, and she is sure the Other is somewhere, smiling as it drains her, and pushes her one step closer to being devoid of everything.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The smell of tobacco and the feel of velvet registered in Killian’s mind as he stuttered to waking, the confusion and memories of what had passed hitting him in blurred increments. He was sitting in a wingback chair, the velvet arms a taupe color that complimented the quilt that covered part of the back. The room he was situated in was tall and rounded, stretched tall with shelves that seemed to go on for a great while. Windows dotted the circular walls where bookcases stuffed with tomes did not, and beams stuck out here and there as if they had been jammed in by a giant's great hand. The wood was wrapped thickly in rope that served as pulleys, dreamcatchers and strange charms hanging from any other unclaimed space. Scrolls, crystals, and sculptures sat in disarray all over the shelving. Beside him a fireplace crackled merrily, and across from him sat a chair matching his own, where Isaac looked on expectantly.

Killian attempted to spring up from his chair to throttle the smaller man, but reddish smoke appeared around him as Isaac yelped. The smoke formed heavy chains that pulled him back to his seat, Isaac looking at him from behind hands raised to protect his face.

"Wait, wait!" Isaac gasped out, and Killian struggled against the manacles. "Hold on -"

"Where's Emma?" Killian yelled, and Isaac lowered his hands. Killian tried again to lunge at him, Isaac flinching back slightly, but could not move farther than just above his seat. He growled, and Isaac laughed nervously.

"All in good time. Are you settled? We have a lot to discuss, my boy." Isaac sighed. "Tea? It's a dream, so I can get you any kind either of us has in our memory -"

"Where," Killian gritted out, "Is Emma you rotten---"

"No tea then. Okay. Well." Clapping his hands on his lap, Isaac looked at Killian with a patient smile. "How much do you remember?"

"Emma is asleep under your bloody rites, which she was tricked into because you are all well and good in some madness about sacrifices -"

"Yes well, living is quite important to us, as a species and just as a whole biological imperative," Isaac said with a bit of nervous amusement in his tone.

"You're killing your own kind, you wanking imbecile -"

"No, no, no - I'm not. That's not the intention or my purpose. I didn't even know about the hungry ghosts until a few cycles ago. Even then, Cruella is the monster. I want the Kits to go back, I don't like doing all this," he gestured, and Killian narrowed his eyes. "I'd rather be writing other things, you know."

"Writing?" Killian blinked, his confusion making Isaac grin.

"Yes, writing. I can write fantasies that happen in the dreamscape or if someone has altered perception. I write three strengthening tasks for this ritual normally, but… Emma has made that a bit more difficult." He pressed his fingers close together as if to pinch, in a gesture showing a small amount. "She's doing most of the work, I give her a few vague notions and boom - she's drowned the page in what she wants or expects to happen, or what you want or you expect to happen."

Killian let his shoulders sag. He thought for a moment, before asking quietly, "How long have we actually been here?"

"Just over a week. It's incredible, really. We've pulled you both from each other's minds so many times. You won't believe how many dreamcatchers I've had to make, but Emma, she fights that like it's nothing. A mere parlor trick." Isaac made a noise like a scoff, rubbing his temples. "Usually a Kitsune would have burned out around the third dream. Now, I've lost count how many iterations we've been through, some stacked on top of the other. The main formula remains the same, though: She dreams, we drain her magic that is heightened by the fantasy, and then it restarts. With Emma, it was hard to get her to restart initially, especially when you entered the picture. We started having to, well. Kill you both."

Blanching, Killian could not hide the shock on his face. Isaac laughed lightly, trying to pat him on the knee as he reared back from the man's touch.

Tutting slightly, Isaac shook his head. "Oh, don't be too upset. It only hurts in the dream and only for a moment… at least for you that is. I have no idea about your lady. She's entirely beyond my understanding, and her magic is unpredictable to the extent of creating chaos on already unstable magic."

Killian was floored, almost collapsing as if to melt into the armchair that mirrored Isaac's. Isaac continued on as Killian laid his head in his hands, one hand, no longer a hook, scratching at his scalp softly. He ached for Emma to be there to hear this, process this with him, possibly from the fact she currently shared his mind.

"Which, I mean, I can understand, it's old, esoteric magic work, but not failure proof. Like the separation of your little friend the Darkness. That took skill, and I was lucky to get it out on the first go, especially since you were quite the unexpected guest." Isaac gestured as if flicking off dirt. Killian stared at his hands, watching them shake.

Isaac cleared his throat, suddenly aware he was no longer being attentively listened to. Killian’s eyes snapped back and he continued on.

"But not my book, alright, and that's what - I mean as a researcher you must understand, I'm floored. The book has some of the strongest magic in these worlds, realms, and planes - and here, your 'Lass' is, fighting it off as if it was a glamour. Some people remember once or twice, but not everyday, and bringing herself to you or you to her! You weren't even supposed to fall asleep the first time, but you must have done something - a potion or draught maybe?" He rubbed his chin, thoughtful, before shaking the idea away.

"Regardless, there should have been no second time, but she just summoned you in like you were supposed to be there. We kept trying to stop you from saving her, or whatever she wanted. It's just incredible. It's not, it's just not feasible that she can break through in every pocket of memory, or time - we were completely blindsided by Milah, Liam, and Erica? No, Elsa, that's right; Emma's mind or magic - haven't figured out which yet - will not allow you to not have good memories, nothing could fight my quill with her giving the ink. If one of us stepped in to try and correct her, give her a little punishment by way of hurting you in some way, she would find a way around it. She's fascinating."

"So why are you letting this happen? Are you going to give her to Cruella?" Killian gripped the arms of the chair, heart racing again at the thought. "I won't let you -"

"Cruella?" Isaac let out a bark of surprised laughter, shaking his head. "No, no. Cruella isn't a friend of mine. We are… We rely on each other with a mutual vehement dislike. Cruella is just a leech that can shapeshift and manipulate, like her imitation of you to convince Emma or her thrall on the beach there. That won't work again on you, or at least not very well, her thrall is a one trick pony. Cruella has a great love of the finer things in life, and I helped her get them with my quill. She used me as she uses anyone within her reach. I haven't stopped since finding out about her trickery, because it would be a suicide mission. She'd make me a puppet or chain me away."

"You still should have said something you coward! How can you just sit there -"

"Because I don't have the trust of Mal and Zorro like Cruella does. Understand, Dark One, that they may rule this island on the surface, but it is that Kitsune She-Devil who pulls the strings and has everyone under her thrall." Isaac looked sad for a moment, but it quickly left his face as if he remembered himself. He cleared his throat and began again.

"Cruella, Maleficent, Regina and by proxy, myself, had plans to kill Snow Whitehart of the United Realms before she could take her place as queen. Maleficent and the traitor, Regina, backed out after Maleficent found herself with child, and Regina's precious Daniel Equi was killed by Goblins. They ran to the crown, and Regina's punishment was banishing her two closest friends to an island they cannot leave. Eternity is a long time on an island that you cannot escape. I don't care to stay, and I wouldn't mind to go." Isaac drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair before turning himself to sit sideways, head resting in his palm while his elbow pressed into the place his fingers had been.

Killian cocked his head confused. "You're safe here though, with plenty of food and that library -"

"Not exactly 'safe'. We're - both Kitsune and Dragons - Elemental beings. Not having magic stung as the spell began to decay from our attempts, but it's been fixed since we came up with the Harvest. We'd all rather not find out what happens when there is no magic as we are creatures that rely on it for survival," Isaac laughed darkly.

"I'm not in the lottery because I'm integral to keeping up the magic supply they divvy up. Que sera sera, as they say. Some of us have made peace, some gripe about the sacrifice, but Cruella has never known calm in her life. Especially now, since she's gotten quite a taste for Emma's powers, more so than ever. Hollowed out Kitsune after Kitsune doing her feeding, it's a shame." The same sad look crossed Isaac's face, like a cloud darkening where sunshine had been. Isaac rubbed his palm over his eyes and forehead, as if to rub it away, grunting slightly.

"Cruella wants to break out of this cage with her monster and do whatever it is her Goddess complex entails, and who should saunter into her web but a magic buffet that can do just that. Right now she's probably realized that we're talking, and looking for a way to prevent her prey from leaving. I truly think Emma will be left here a husk if Cruella has her way, taking all of her magic and letting her be the last piece to her collection of enraged spirits. I'm sure the princess has plenty of anger to feed that creature." The man shuddered, grimacing and closing his eyes tightly.

Killian blinked, turning his head to the side slightly to question Isaac. "What creature?"

"You haven't seen it then, the hungry ghosts all together?" Isaac raised a brow, sitting upright. "Oh, so you don't know about Cruella's pet! When you see that beast, you won't forget it. Cruella keeps it… hungry."

"How do I stop her? How can I protect Emma?" Killian almost pleaded, worry lacing the words.

"I think if Emma has nightmares in succession, she can escape with you. Cruella won't like it because you'll expose her avarice and her plans, but me, I'm not greedy. I'm simply curious. If I had my way, I'd want you both to stay so I can study her magic." Isaac waved his hand, with a flourish and the manacles that bound his wrists fell away to smoke. "I want to see if I can contain it like your dark little secret, or see if we can create a power supply from longevity, so if she were to stay - "

"Stay?" Killian interrupted.

"Yes, stay. We're secured against Goblin filth, you don't have the Darkness in you here, she doesn't have to go to war. She's safe, like her parents probably wanted. I'd let her sleep a few days each week, and she could have memories of her family there or dream of whatever she wanted. Emma's happy here, and once Maleficent gets wind of this, she won't have anymore of this distress with Cruella. Cruella will be lucky if she gets to experience distress, Mal will probably eat her in a single bite." Isaac let out a delighted laugh, turning again in his seat and giggling at the thought. He wiped tears from his eyes, throwing them aside.

Raising a finger and wagging it, he turned his head to look at Killian. "But, more importantly, you're happy here, and you're free. No need for that nightmare business or any unhappy thoughts. That's the other option, you see; you could give in. It's a paradise. There's always the off chance she truly does free us, as that would be preferable. I'm just looking at odds that say not good. The least favorable of course goes unsaid, but I'm inclined to think you like my alternative."

"I couldn't. Emma is fighting this with every bit of strength she has. She's made it clear that she can't possibly - she doesn't want to be here." Killian took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "She wants to actually find her family, be free of this, save her people and -"

"And now she has friends here, " Isaac shrugged, "You could be the hero for once, not the villain. I mean, don't you want that? She doesn't seem so clear when she figures out that this is really you. You could be a little selfish, Lieutenant."

"Those feelings - She doesn't really feel that way." Killian looked away, but could feel Isaac's smile without needing to see it. "And I can't do that to her, I can't lo - I can't enjoy her friendship only to have her realize that I…"

"You're going to give up a chance to see what it could be like if she and you were something more?" Killian tried to protest but Isaac silenced him with a noise.

"Ah, ah! The dear little princess obviously reciprocates your," Isaac coughed, laughing slightly as he made a strange gesture with his fingers, enunciating, "'Hidden Feelings'. And why wouldn't she? Without your Darkness, and her desire to die trying to save a kingdom that will war for ages after this, you two are pretty well matched."

Swallowing hard, Killian looked down at his boots. "No."

"Hm. Well, what do you say we give you both a few more days. Emma can't be taken out yet, she's still dreaming what is written. After that, she will be back to the waking world, hopefully with the barrier broken." Isaac sat up again, letting out a loud gasp. "Saaaaay - man to man, how about I do you a little favor? I'll make it so she knows who you are, and if all goes right, that she won't remember a single bit of this."

"Why? Just her and I, of what it could have been if we were just ordinary? Why would I do that to myself?" Killian looked at Isaac, his narrowed eyes easily showing his incredulity.

"Because she won't remember, and because once that toxic sludge climbs back on your bones, you'll at least have had a moment of happiness with her, before her inevitable end. Even a husk is a better option than what awaits her out there if she fails. That's a heavy risk, and I would wager that with your little dark conscience there, you might not be able to bet on anything but what it believes is the winning horse." Isaac shrugged once more, Killian's chest aching. "Regardless of if you want her to see you like this one last time or not, she's going to dream. Take it, or you can leave it."

"No tricks?" Killian said slowly. "What dream will she have?"

"No tricks. I don't know what her dream will be," Isaac shrugged again, scratching his balding head. "Whatever she's thinking of strongly, enough to enter the slumber."

"How can I trust you? What about Cruella?"

"You can't. I could just write another ending, make another dreamcatcher, tweak and twist things as much as I can against her magic making you miserable while keeping you trapped - but, I do prefer happy endings, the happiest for everyone being the barrier’s destruction. As the Kitsune leader, I'd prefer them to stop being turned into mindless zombies, and to be able to get good rice wine again." The reddish smoke appeared again, morphing into a red porcelain decanter patterned with a golden dragon. Two small cups without handles followed after it as they bounced down to Isaac. He offered some to Killian, but Killian shook his head. One of the cups vanished in a puff of smoke.

"I've been desperate for it, and they make the best batches in the Eastern mountains. As for Cruella, who knows what that witch is doing at any time; best to believe it's malicious and plan for the worst."

He threw back his glass, shivering with glee as it went down. The decanter and cup dissolved into nothing.

Killian hesitated for a long moment, leaning forward to place his face in his hands and scrub hard at the back of his neck. "You swear to me that she won't remember? That this, whatever this is, once we are out of here she'll be okay? That I can give her a chance, that she can maybe find someone worthy of her once she saves her family?"

"Wow, you actually believe she can succeed! You of all people know I can't guarantee safety for the princess. I'm doing the best I can as it is. If you want to stay around and protect her, feel free to risk it. I have no idea." Killian scowled at the man, who cocked his head mockingly. "Are you sure that you want to waste this obvious devotion you have for your lady love?" Isaac grinned.

"Isaac. Answer me. Will she remember?"

"Yes, yes. She won't remember. You'll have your precious memories, and only you." Reaching forward, Isaac offered his hand. "Deal?"

Killian hesitated, before reluctantly shaking the man's hand.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Falling out of the dream from Isaac's push was like going from a pillow bed to a vat of tar. The Darkness attacked him instantaneously, the feeling of it like a great ripping and writhing mass as it reclaimed every inch of him that had reprieve. Its voice was shrill, sensations overwhelming all at once, its attempts to force him to stop his endeavors disarming.

TAKE THE SHARD! TAKE IT, TAKE IT, TAKE IT NOW! TAKE IT OR ELSE - TAKE IT AND FREE US, FREE US SO WE MAY HAVE OUR LIFE BACK IN THE SHADOWS

It went on, never ending. The voice could scream for as long as it needed. Killian did not find he cared.

Emma lay still, hands folded at the waist, a satin wrapped bouquet wilting against her bosom. His attention elsewhere, the Darkness shrieked in fury. Killian let it, let it begin breaking him again, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers cracked as he pulled them away, but he ignored them. Laying on his cot next to her, he laughed quietly to himself, the Darkness trying desperately to keep him in its clutches without success.

DON’T YOU DARE! COWARD!

Its snarling howls fell away, the falling sensation abating as he landed in a soft seat while a balmy late spring day appeared out a large open window next to him. Flower petals fell over a courtyard, the garden spectacular in its beauty. The walls were high on the other side, huge windows allowing a view from multiple stories of what could be nothing but the palace.

Orchestral music played somewhere nearby, the polished floors gleaming in the light of a chandelier. Standing up from the plush, velvet wingback chair, Killian walked towards the sound of the music. A hand clapped him on the back, the familiarity of it and the warmth spreading through him and bringing back so many memories, and Killian readied himself as he turned.

"Younger brother! It's about time you saunter into your own bash." Liam grinned at him. Killian felt a deep pang of loss followed by gratitude for the ability to see his brother again. Emma's doing, no doubt. He quirked an eyebrow swallowing back any sadness with a smirk, and let himself have the moment.

"Do my ears deceive me, or does my ancient and senile brother actually refer to me correctly as younger?" he quipped. A servant brought by a drink assortment, Liam taking a tumbler while Killian waved the man away.

"Don't despair, Killian. This courtesy lasts only for tonight - nothing about your award ceremony can be little, especially when it coincides with a chance to mingle with your pick of lovely women vying for your attention." Liam sipped his drink, walking in the direction of the music, Killian walking next to him. His brother was in full regalia which explained his own, but he couldn't place what ceremony they could be at together at the palace. In his time in the Navy, Killian had only seen the old grounds, not the always growing and subtly shifting palace Emma knew. It had been in construction secretly during war time, Liam only seeing the beginnings of it and construction concepts.

"Brother," Liam said sternly, and Killian fell from his thoughts.

"Hm, yes?"

"I said," Liam sighed, rolling his eyes. "Are there any in particular that you have a fancy for? I've heard rumors, but they cannot possibly be correct."

"I, well..." Killian’s face heated, thinking of the princess. The thought occurred to him that Milah may be in this dream too if he wasn't careful. He licked his lips, but Liam interrupted, giving his arm a squeeze.

"I know it's been difficult with what happened to Milah, but if you truly have moved on, even to as much as being open to someone -" Liam turned him, holding a hand on both of his shoulders as he searched Killian’s face. "I am beyond happy for you, not to mention proud. Especially if she's a higher status than us, which by the way - having to hear news by way of Elsa's gossip is very unbecoming, Lieutenant. I should hope that as a Captain you learn to communicate better."

Killian swallowed hard, his brother's pride and praise so long unheard. Whatever this was could not be a memory, Liam and Milah erased within the same terrible days, and being named Captain was impossible considering his war crimes. This was at one time his dream, in some ways. A promotion at the palace complete with pomp, all while his brother and loved ones looked on. Before Milah the dream had included adoring women in droves, until he danced with a finely dressed lady who was his one and only 'true love' like some boyhood fantasy.

Liam led him to a curtain, drawing it back to reveal an opulent ballroom. Trumpets sounded and dancers stopped twirling, those at tables standing while others simply had their attention drawn to where Liam and him stood.

"Presenting Killian Jones, savior of the realms. Long may he live!" a voice called out, the revelers repeating it with whoops and shouts.

He stepped forward, Liam falling a step behind as they made their way to a table in the front of the room. Elsa hurriedly snuck her elbow through Liam’s as they walked, and Ingrid already stood there with Anna. Another blare of trumpets came louder and longer, and the voice called out again, much more excitedly this time.

"Their Majesties, King David and Queen Snow of the United Realms, and her Highness, Princess Emma. Long may they reign and may their lives be longer still!"

While the revelers repeated the announcer’s words, the King and Queen appeared waving, sitting at the head table with them. Emma was the spitting image of the King in so many ways, his eyes and hair, the soft smile, but her mother's beauty and fine features were very present. The Queen had the same nervous brow furrowing as Emma, looking around at everything as if she was confused. She met his eyes, and her own narrowed. Opening her mouth to say something, she quickly stopped when Emma appeared, looking bashful.

"I forgot my note cards," she whispered under her breath, taking a seat next to him, and her mother sighed exasperated. Emma continued on, talking to her parents. "I'm sorry, I have just been out of sorts today - I can't figure out my up from my -"

Shifting in her full gown, its champagne fabric crinkling, she glanced at him with a polite smile, turning back to her mother to begin again before whipping her head back to look at him with wide eyes.

"Your Highness," Killian nodded, amused. Isaac had promised him recognition and was not to be out done, apparently. Emma retaining her memories of him would make this fantasy an entirely different sort of dream.

Emma stared at him with her mouth slightly parted, unable to speak. Her mother coughed, breaking the spell as Emma nodded in acknowledgement.

"I'm sorry Mother, I was saying I'm out of sorts today. I will introduce the new Captain with the generic toast and if you and Father want to add to his accolades, you can do so," she said calmly, back to ignoring him once again. Killian frowned slightly, but played with the small spoon in the place setting to stave off the wait until she would have a moment. "I think his brother wants to give the majority of the toast anyway, so no large fuss."

"Emma, are you okay then? Nothing else that we should confer about before this? We can push off toasts until after dancing and talk just you and I; you can talk to me about anything. I miss you so much," The Queen took Emma's hand in her own, squeezing it. Her eyes met his and she quickly looked back at Emma. "We can go right now; we don't have to even stay -"

Emma giggled, delighted. "I am not the only one out of sorts today then. When have you been one to tease like this?"

"Emma, I don't know what this is or -"

"I'm fine. I promise you that this is the last time I lose my note cards or smear ink on my dress from trying to get out of memorizing a speech." Emma gave a firm nod, and gave a squeeze back before she removed her hand from her mother's grip. "Let's get this over with so the new Captain can parade his awards around and we are closer to a foot rub."

Winking at the Queen, Emma turned to him.

"Hi!" she said, smiling brightly.

"Princess, I can't say that I haven't waited for this moment since -"

"I suppose that I must have seen you around during the war efforts, and I've heard of your heroics, but I admit that it is my mutual pleasure to meet you, Captain. You seem so familiar to me, but I owe you my life so many times over. I suppose that must be it?" Emma looked up at him, and his heart sank. There was no recognition there but the faintest notion of what they were to each other.

He smiled back, unable to help himself even as a strange sort of sadness ran through him. "I'd save your life as many times as you would let me, Princess."

"Oh, you are a silver tongue. I'm sure you are delighted by the turn out tonight," she snickered.

He shrugged, his smile going sad, the grief of losing this promised chance Isaac had failed to give them finally setting in fully. "I had someone, but they're gone now. The war took her."

Emma stiffened, her smile wiped clean away. "I'm so sorry. If I had known, I would have never -"

"It's fine love. I've been fortunate enough to find someone else who is so far more remarkable than anyone I dare to guess is also present with us. She doesn't remember me, which is a shame. I will win her heart again without fail and without trickery, as I have in the past. Hopefully, I'll remind her of everything that has come to pass between us." Reaching for her hand, she watched entranced as he lifted it to his lips to kiss her knuckles. The moment he touched them to the soft skin, she shivered, and something lit in the full pools of jade her pupils had become.

"After all," he whispered, smoothing over where he had kissed with his thumb as he lowered her hand. "I will always find her."

Emma looked stunned, her breathing slightly ragged as she tried to suck in a hiss of air in her tightly threaded gown. Turning to her mother who was talking with her father in a tense discussion of some sort, she choked out a whisper.

"Mom, Mother, I - you're right. Let's do the toasts after dancing and dinner, with dessert. It's unconventional, yes, but I need - I need a moment." Her mother looked alarmed, but Emma raised a finger. "I'm fine. Nothing is wrong, no code words dropped. I just - it's very warm in here isn't it? I think dancing will give me some air, or I can slip outside. I just need more time to compose myself."

"Alright, but Emma?" The Queen's tone was nothing but concern, her eyes no longer flicking to look at him, but darting to the corner of her eye like a Bogey-Man lay behind her. "If any of this feels wrong, strange, or just off, tell me. Do you understand?"

Emma nodded. The Queen stood, grabbing the King's arm and dragging him upwards. He shot Killian a look that was unmistakably displeased, but brushed it off almost immediately in a display of grateful hosting.

"Guests of honor, toasts will be held at dessert to lend more time to celebration. Please dance, and dinner will be served as soon as the time arises," the Queen announced, clapping her hands. The lights of the ballroom began to twinkle as she took to the dance floor with the King. The orchestra played louder once more, a slow and haunting tune that swelled beautifully as they spun.

"Princess?" he asked, leaning over far closer than he should. She smelled so lovely, the urge to kiss the juncture of her neck and shoulder where it peeked out from under the pleated neckline making him grit his teeth.

She stammered out something that wasn't quite a word, color creeping onto her cheeks. Taking a breath while he chuckled, she managed another try. "Yes? Yes, what is it that you need -"

"I would like to ask you for this dance, or several. I have no need , except to admit to you that I ask because you are beautiful beyond measure tonight." He stood, offering his hand. Although her face heated further and she gaped at him in shock, she took it quickly in her own without hesitation.

Her hand fit perfectly in his own as he remembered, and like so many times before he spun her into a waltz. It was hard to keep from pulling her too close the way he was accustomed too, already too informal and too forward here as it were. The court had so many risks, what he wouldn't give to be back in the village, the forest, the street fair, the tavern, so many lives layered together, or to have her remember -

"You dance like a magician," Emma said in wonder. More were joining them on the dance floor, but Emma swept them away in her radiance. She seemed to shimmer as if she was something imagined, even as he was sure she was real and so much more importantly, her. His Emma.

"Oh?" he grinned, twirling her. She laughed brightly at what here would be considered absurdity, a frivolous move that did not belong in dancing. If it was unbecoming, neither cared. "Do I now, princess? Pray tell?"

"You haven't stepped on my feet once, Captain. You anticipate my every move as if you are a seer. Even when you did whatever that spin was, I feel as though I'm floating on air in your lead. I have not danced like this in hundreds, probably thousands of dance partners, and rarely do I give such praise." Emma subtly shifted, moving her body slightly closer to his own. He hummed, leaning in slightly.

“Much better, with a partner who knows what they're doing,” Killian whispered into her ear, and she beamed up at him.

"I don't know what it is about you, but you're so familiar, like I know you. Like I should know you, and I feel like I'm drowning just by being in your presence. I… I've never known anything like this, Lieu - I mean Captain, sorry." They stopped, no longer spinning. They had ended up near the curtains where he had entered, sequestered away from the majority of prying eyes. Pressing her hands to his chest she traced a pattern in the heavy fabric. "You mean something to me in a way that hurts me to be away from you. Like knowing you're here makes me feel so safe, so cared for. Something is there, a deeper emotion; I just can't grasp it."

"Princess, I should -" he started, but Emma swayed towards him, closer still.

"Maybe we should stop dancing, I'm a bit dizzy…" Emma whispered, looking up at him with reverence.

Killian touched her face gently, bringing his forehead against her own. "We've stopped, darling."

"Oh. So we have." Her lips brushed against his palm, one of her hands reaching up to play with the hair on his neck, tugging slightly at the tie of his queue. "This feeling, this familiarity as if I've been through a hundred lives with you finding me…?"

"Yes?" he whispered, her fingers pulling him to her, bodies pressed tightly together even against her golden gown and his uniform.

Emma's touch moved around his neck to his jaw, her thumb's soft pad stroking the scar of his cheek. "Is it lo-"

"Lieute - Capt - Whatever you are !" the king hissed as he clapped a hand roughly on Killian’s shoulder, a grin on his face that was dangerous, his eyes wild. "A word, if you will."

"Daddy, please -" Emma started as the King pushed between them.

Her father's eyes flashed darkly, and Emma stepped back in surprise. The king composed himself, failing to cover his curled lips. "Emma, stay there and dance with someone else, but not like… Whatever the hell this was."

"I regret this interruption too, but I am nothing if not gracious, except dashingly handsome." Emma giggled at his humor, her father's glare at her causing her to cough instead, while Killian brushed off the King’s hand. He bowed before Emma, kissing her hand as her face flushed with red. "I await my next dance with you Princess, with hope that you will not suffer through thousands more partners before I return."

She laughed prettily, and curtsied. The King caught his shoulder as he rose, pulling him to stand and gripping his elbow like he meant to break it. Dragging him across the ballroom floor, only a few onlookers seemed to notice as everyone else danced. The Queen stood up, taking a few steps from her seat, Ingrid and Anna rising as well. Liam and Elsa were waltzing, and Killian tried to memorize the happiness on their faces. A stampede of wild horses could not distract them from gazing at each other, laughing as they turned. The King pulled him into the hallway briskly, passersby gasping and bowing as Killian was dragged past.

"Oi, er, your grace -"

"Shut up. Just shut up," the King gritted out, before opening a door and throwing Killian inside.

He'd been brought to a study, or small library he guessed, the walls paneled and bookshelves built into the rich wood. Several busts sat on shelves or rested on pillars, a globe and realm switcher sat opposite each other on either set of a large desk that was covered in scrolls. There were no windows, but the realm switcher emitted a light golden glow along with a few spread out wisp filled lamps. The King pushed past him, knocking him hard on the shoulder.

Killian examined his options, choosing to apologize and appeal to the status of the crown instead of battering the obstinate man with a chair and enjoying his time with Emma. He felt she might approve of one method over the other, even without bias involved.

"Your Majesty, I did not mean to offend, I had heard how lovely your daughter was -"

"Come off it then, Jones. Do you think even your status as Captain can buy access to the throne?" The King turned slightly to sneer, pushing around scrolls on the desk. "We aren't Arendelle, we are the crown. There are standards here, not sheer desperation; especially with the knowledge that your kingdom is doomed, causing a royal to settle for a Navy sea dog."

"Do you mean… Liam and Elsa?" The King’s eyes flicked up, and he shrugged. Killian took a steadying breath, now regretting his choice in options. "I assure you, sire, that pairing is very much a fine match from any purview except for yours. Her family and I were overjoyed -"

"Yes, because your title has been lost under your drunken coward of a father's yellow streak. Do you think I want that attached to our family?" He pointed a finger, the nail long. "You didn’t want it attached to you and your brother enough to enscript to the war as fast as you could."

"My father abandoned our house to my brother, who has worked tirelessly to make sure that the people of the Blackwater and surrounding areas are safe." Killian balled his fists, his patience thinning further. Emma had mentioned her father was stubborn and overwhelming when it came to anyone courting her, but this seemed off for one of her dreams.

"You look and act just like him, you know." the King chuckled with malice. He drummed on the desk "That's my major reservation. When I saw my daughter with you all I could think is, 'There goes another coward. When will he abandon her, and break Emma's heart?'"

Killian stared at the King, examining him closely. He seemed to blur and shimmer slightly, even after Killian blinked. In every other dream, the pattern had been the same: They would not separate if it was pleasant, as long as they had met, unless someone stepped in. Someone who had long fingernails, who spoke in words meant to bleed someone dry, and who did not use her own face.

"You are not Emma's father, are you?"

"So perceptive, my little hero. Pup caught the scent, and followed my trail. It's so much easier to convince you of being not worthy of her when there's that glorious Darkness rattling around in your head." The King leered at him, advancing with a swish of his hips, a black streak appearing in his hair.

"Cruella." He nodded, stepping backwards to pick up a previously spotted fireplace poker. Like most items in the realms, it was made of a hard obsidian instead of iron, and would crack easily after a few hard blows. He was at a great disadvantage, let alone being on her preferred playing field of the dreamscape.

Dramatically gesturing to the empty room, Cruella's laugh ran out of the King’s mouth.

"Hello puppy. Fancy meeting you here." The smirk settling on the King’s face was suddenly much redder, and unmistakably not his. "I got a whiff of that hairbrained scheme you, Lilly, and Isaac cooked up to stop me, and thought I might drop in. Good thing I did too, now I can see how tight I have to make your leash to keep you from taking Emma away from me."

"What did you do to her? She doesn't remember me at all!" Killian lunged, the King seeming to shimmer as the woman giggled.

He appeared next to Killian, patting his cheek, before reappearing in a wooden chair behind the desk, puffing on a long cigarette and throwing the poker aside. Killian dropped the ash she had left in his palm with disgust, now defenseless.

"Well puppy, you kept me from what I wanted, which is to say… your sweet little puppy love, Emma." She giggled again, green smoke coming from the King's nostrils. "You make her remember that there's something better than our perfect paradise for you two. You made her feel things other than happiness and sweet dreams, making us both suffer. She barely gave me any magic after trying to keep you from your fears. I've been trying to plague you with nightmare after nightmare, but you keep coming back to ruin her happy dreams by making her accommodate you. Milah for example, or your brother Liam, or Elsa, or your sweet mother Alice - Every time I try to torture them, kill them, crush them in ways to destroy you, she saves you from their torment. Emma deserves happiness, isn't that what you told poor Isaac?"

"This isn't happiness you bloody leeching witch - "

"Oh, but it is - when you aren't here to ruin it. So when you and Isaac chatted, I placed a curse of my own on poor sleeping Emma." She grinned, eyes narrowing at him. "Should anyone try to rescue her, the only way out will be through her worst nightmares, and I will torture her every step of the way until she goes mad at the sight of you. You're a prominent feature of her fears, so trust me, it will be easy. All I have to do if you keep meddling is let the curse run its course, nightmare after nightmare until she never wakes again and begs for happy thoughts."

"You wouldn't. You need her magic -"

"Fun little tiddy bit, love." Cruella let the ash of her cigarette rain on the desk. " Your fear made Emma's magic weaker, because she expended so much to keep you comfortable. But her fear is delicious, and so much easier to take. When she was scared for you, it blew me away. True nightmares only, of course. Absolutely mouth watering. When you are in a nightmare she is in, her fear is like finest champagne."

"You can't have her." Killian raised his voice, and she cackled harder.

"Oh but I will. Every second you are in her dreams will be an endless loop of nightmares, and I'll take every bit of her magic, until she withers into a husk, angry, afraid and alone." Her smile was her own, under the king's eyes. She stood, and was suddenly trailing a finger down his shoulder at his side. "Or you could leave. I could even try and give you that shard…"

"Damn the shard," He lunged, and she was back at the desk, giggling while taking a long pull of her cigarette. "I won't stop until Emma is free of this. Emma has Isaac's dream to go through, and then your buggering curse. I will be here for her, and I will get her out of here. She will wake up."

"She will never love you. She won't even remember this, and you, you monstrosity, you will never be able to love her." Cruella sneered through David's face, nails scratching the table.

Killian laughed, and the king's face turned to fury. "It doesn't matter. The future isn't something to be afraid of if I love her right now - and I do." The confirmation of this fact took him by surprise, but it was irrefutable. Warmth spread through him, then a fierce heat that furthered his determination. "Regardless of everything, I love her at this moment. Regardless of everything, this is who I am under the Darkness, trying to protect her, trying to break through against all odds. "

"You absolutely horrid little beast -"

The door creaked, and Cruella's form of David snapped back into place, nothing but the small red choker indicating the deception. Queen Snow entered the room, and Killian bowed.

"Ah, my love, this is poor timing I'm afraid." The king's voice was tinged with anger. He pointed at Killian. "This man is an imposter and a Goblin spy, we'll need to call the guard -"

"Oh, my!" Snow picked up a heavy bust, ready to throw it at him. Killian flinched slightly, braced for the impact. "Is Emma safe?"

"The princess should be -" Cruella turned towards the Queen in the king's form, just as she took both hands to lifted the bust above her head making to throw the heavy marble. Killian prepared himself, but instead watched as she brought it down on her husband's skull with a sickening crack. Cruella crumpled, her true form revealed as she began to fade away.

Killian blinked as Snow panted, wiping dust from her hands.

"Your Majesty, I - Um -"

Snow drew a sword, stalking towards him with fury in her eyes like flame, so much like Emma's, the blade pressed against his neck. She spoke lowly, the edge there sharper than her sword.

"That is not and was not my husband, Captain Liam has been dead for years, you are most definitely not a lieutenant, and this, this is a sleeping curse. My Daughter's sleeping curse. So start talking, Dark One. And don't you dare skip anything."

#Courtorderedcake #15th #February #2020 #February 15th 2020 #Hallow #CSSNS #CS AU #CS FF #Captain Swan

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bcdaily · 5 years ago

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Hi Bee. So I love Comm Lily but always thought she was a tad overdramatic and rolled my eyes several times in reaction to her stressing over being with James (it's James Potter fgs!). That is, until a guy (I think I might really like) told me he likes me, and my immediate internal reaction was "oh shit" and instant panic and "oh my god this is moving too fast LET'S SLOW DOWN AND SNIFF THE DAISIES FOR A SECOND MATE" xD

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chrysalispen · 5 years ago

Text

Prompt #27 - Palaver

aight y’all i got asked for nero/wol wedding fic and since it fit today’s prompt, here’s the whole thing

ask and ye shall receive, etc etc

=========

“I can’t believe you’re actually letting me go through with this,” Nero said yet again, resuming his agitated back-and-forth pace about the cathedral vestibule. He’d worried his cufflinks undone for the third time in the last half-bell, and he still hadn’t managed to get his cravat fastened. “You’re supposed to save me from my matrimonial fate, and here you are consigning me to it instead.”

“You did this to yourself. Hold still.” It took him a few tries but Cid was finally able to intercept the other man’s circuit over the ancient stones of the church long enough to grasp him by his wrists. “And stop fidgeting with your cuffs, this is the last time I’m fixing them for you.”

“This is all your fault, you know.”

“…How is this my fault?”

“Well, I don’t bloody know, but clearly it’s your fault, Garlond. Otherwise that makes it my fault, and I don’t like that.”

Cid almost laughed, but the wild shine in those eyes told him that would be extremely unwise. He hadn’t seen the other engineer this anxious since he was a young boy; Nero was such a tightly controlled man under most circumstances that it could be difficult to tell what was actually running through his mind, but in this instant the stress had worn down his emotional defenses, and the poor man was perilously close to panic.

So, he decided to pick a fight with him.

“You gave her a ring, bent the knee, the whole nine yalms. What did you expect her to do, turn you down?”

“Yes! No. I… don’t know.” His fingers twitched, obviously wanting to go right back into his hair or to his cuffs, but Cid slapped them away and kept working at the fabric. “The Warrior of Light has any number of admirers and assorted hangers-on, you know that.”

“So she does. And you’ll notice she isn’t marrying any of them.”

“And if something goes wrong? If she decides this isn’t really what she wants?” At his exasperated sigh, Nero snapped, “It could happen and you know it.”

“What could happen?”

“She could simply leave me at the altar, for one.” Cid did laugh, then. Nero shot him a withering glare the likes of which he hadn’t seen since their Academy years, and he noted with satisfaction that the other man had mostly stopped fidgeting with his cufflinks.

“Tell me you aren’t actually being serious, Nero. This woman has seen you at your absolute sodding worst. You were her enemy once. You tried to kill us-”

“Point of order, I was not trying to kill her. Or you.” A pause, then the ghost of a smirk. “Perhaps I might have liked to singe your short hairs a bit. The notion of hauling your arrogant carcass about the castrum in one of those claws like a scruffed kitten was half the appeal of deploying them in the first place.”

Cid rolled his eyes.

“Thank you for making my point for me. As you’ve so helpfully demonstrated, Aurelia knows what a pillock you are. She’s seen it for herself.”

“I am not a pillock.”

“Yes, you are, Nero. And she knows it and she still said yes. That has to be worth something.”

“…I suppose,” the engineer groused.

“She’s not going to leave you standing in the vestibule,” Cid grunted, pulling the silk tie around the taller man’s neck as taut as he could manage without choking him, then arranging the knot. “She’s just running a bit late, that’s all. It happens- don’t you dare touch those cuffs.”

Nero scowled, but his hands dropped back down to his sides.

After a few moments spent in silence as Cid examined his work on the cravat with a critical eye, he finally said: “I’m happy for you. You know that, right?”

“Don’t get sentimental. I’m barely keeping my breakfast down as it is.”

“Shut up, you great lout, I’m talking.” He busied himself pinning the Nymeia lily back in its place on Nero’s lapel; it had fallen askew with all the pacing. “We’ve known each other since we were boys and in all this time, I never thought you’d take interest in anything that wasn’t related to magitek. But you weren’t happy in the Empire any more than I was, and lest you think otherwise I know full well that was why you didn’t warn anyone I’d planned to defect. I never understood why you stayed.”

“You know very well why I stayed.”

“Aye, I do now, for all the good it ever did you. You’re happier as a defector than you ever were as a tribunus. Not the least of those reasons being you finally found someone willing to put up with you, and out of all of the women in Eorzea – hells, Hydaelyn – of course it had to be the Warrior of Light. I’ll give you this, you never did do anything by half-measures.”

Nero hesitated, then offered him a rueful, lopsided smile.

“On that much, I suppose we are in agreement.”

Cid reared backwards, clutching his chest in mock surprise. “Hells below, did we actually reach consensus on something? Does this mean marriage might actually turn you agreeable for the nonce?”

“Agreeable? You think a walk down the aisle with the woman I love means I shall march in lockstep with you, Garlond? And risk destroying the fundamental underpinnings of our relationship? Perish the thought.”

Nero’s smile had stretched into that toothy, idiotic grin he normally hated, the one the man used when he was getting ready to tease. But this once, just this once, Cid Garlond grinned back at the cocksure git that passed for his best friend in the world.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Oh, she’s here!” someone gasped out in the foyer. “And the Count’s with her! Places!”

There was the sound of hurried whispers and the patter of feet, and the rustling sound of silk, followed by the deep creak of the doors opening on their ancient hinges.

“I’m going to be ill,” Nero muttered, and further inspection revealed that he was shaking from head to toe. Somehow, Cid marveled, he was actually vibrating in place, as though he were an idling combustion engine.

With a short laugh, he took the man by the elbow and held him fast–both to keep him from making good on his threat, and from bolting for the door like a spooked animal.

“Just mind you don’t ruin your bride’s dress if you are,” he said, “because she’s coming into the foyer as we speak.”

Cid just so happened to be looking right at his friend’s face as aforementioned bride entered the cathedral with Edmont de Fortemps as her escort. He was glad in retrospect that he did, for he was rewarded with the quite remarkable view of watching a man fall in love all over again, in real time.

It was in his eyes, he thought. Despite being rather passionate by nature, Nero was not outwardly expressive when he did not care to be - lessons, Cid assumed, he’d learned during his wheat-counting days. But those frosty eyes had turned bright and soft and warm, like the spring sky at midday. He had stopped shaking, and the tension in his slender frame had all but disappeared.

All he appeared to see in that moment was the Warrior of Light–who was herself, admittedly, quite a vision. Jandelaine had overseen her preparations personally, being a good friend of hers, and the eccentric aesthetician had outdone himself this time in every sense of the word. He had arranged her hair in a long spill of golden curls over one shoulder, interwoven with orange blossoms and forget-me-nots secured into myriad small braids throughout her coiffure. Combined with the lavish, lace-trimmed dress she wore, it was a sight to knock the breath from the lungs.

The old Count was murmuring something to her, something that made her smile, laugh softly, and kiss him on the cheek with the sort of familiar fondness reserved for parental figures–that was right, he remembered; in the eyes of Ishgardian law she was technically a Fortemps, though he was fair certain that the man’s fatherly affection for her was in no wise any sort of mummery.

Edmont dropped his arm from hers and stepped back, leaning on his walking stick. She approached the two men on slightly slowed, hesitant footsteps. Her eyes were fixed on Nero, and they were very blue and very wide.

After a moment, she smiled her usual smile- albeit with perhaps a touch of shyness- and Cid heard an exhalation at his side.

“See?” he said. He released his death grip on Nero’s arm. “You’ll be fine. Now go see to her. If you need me then give a shout, but I don’t think you will.”

Almost instantly, it seemed, it was just the two of them, the sound of retreating footsteps, and a closing door. Music played from the hall beyond, muffled and ponderous, and they regarded each other in a sort of awed and awkward silence.

Then Aurelia grinned from ear to ear and started to snicker in a decidedly unladylike fashion.

“Gods,” she blurted. “I feel ridiculous. Look at me. I look like a window advertisement for lampshades sold to bored Ul'dahn housewives.”

“You didn’t have to say yes when I asked, you know.”

“Of course I did. I couldn’t very well turn you down after you were half-dead from panic just trying to ask at all. As it was, you almost immediately started trying to talk me out of it.”

Nero glared at her. “I was nowhere near that bad.”

“Oh yes you were. You were being very reasonable about it all, too, coming up with a half dozen perfectly good reasons why I’d be stark raving mad to even consider accepting your proposal.” The edges of her smile softened. “But anyroad, we’re here now.”

“So we are,” he said.

There wasn’t much left to say that hadn’t already been said, and Nero wasn’t entirely sure he could find the words to say even if that weren’t the case. He could feel the anxiety creeping up on him again by ilms, running its invisible fingers up his spine.

She must have noticed; he saw her expression darken a bit with her concern.

“Are you all right? You don’t look well.”

He began to say of course I’ll be all right, let’s just get on with it, but what came out instead was:

“Seven hells, all this godsdamned palaver for two rings and five minutes of vows. Are you quite sure you’d not rather elope?”

“Right,” Aurelia snorted. “We can run away to Dravania and get married by the moogles. Though I’m not sure ‘now you may kiss the bride, kupo!’ is terribly binding in the eyes of the law.”

“And I don’t know that goblins actually have marriage traditions of any sort, so I suppose that settles it. Bugger.” He ran a thoughtful hand over his currently clean-shaven jaw.

“I suppose we’d best–oh, Nero, wait!” She reached into his pockets, heedless of his sudden flush. “Your gloves.”

“…I’d hoped you might forget about those.”

“No, you have to wear them, at least for the first bit. Here, hold out your hands, I’ll put them on.”

Biting back a sigh, he obediently held out his left hand.

She bent over his forearm, one of her slim healer’s hands bracing his wrist delicately in one hand as she slid the kidskin over his fingers, smoothing it out with the deft and gentle touch of a woman well accustomed to such trivial luxuries, and it struck the engineer then just how strangely intimate the act was. Such a simple thing, the act of putting a glove on his bare hand, but something he knew no one else would have done in quite the same way.

Once she’d fastened the little pearl-button closure to fit the glove properly, Aurelia lifted his hand, and placed a small kiss to the smooth skin of his inner wrist, where the base of his palm met leather. Intimate, indeed. He swallowed, hearing the sound of it click in his ears.

“Hand me the other one?” he asked.

She did. Hastily he slipped the remaining glove onto his other hand, hoping she wouldn’t notice how much she’d flustered him.

“You know,” she murmured, her grin edging into something almost wicked, “that kiss would have had the ton all aflutter and speculating, back home.”

“Would it?”

“Mm. Absolutely scandalous in polite society, as it happens.”

“Us? Polite society? And here I thought we were just a couple of especially dodgy imperial defectors borrowing Saint Reymanaud’s on a lark.”

Aurelia’s soft laugh echoed against the stones beneath their feet.

“I think that Halone, on the wild off chance she might actually exist beyond the fond hopes of the masses, would be willing to forgive a couple of godless heretics just this once given their history of service to Ishgard,” she said. “So, Scaeva- are you ready for us to go make an utter spectacle of ourselves in front of the assembled leadership of an entire continent?”

Beneath the finery and the fuss and bother of the event, he could still catch that lavender scent about her, and her smile was the same smile it had always been–the smile he especially loved to see when he knew it was meant just for him. Bit by bit the not-so-secret fears he’d harbored that she might renounce him publicly at the altar, or simply not show at all, dwindled to nothing.

For all his outward self-assurance, Nero knew he wasn’t really worthy of her: not just as the Warrior of Light, but as the very mortal woman she was. He was painfully aware of that fact, had always been aware of it. But that said, neither was anyone else he could have named. As Garlond had said, she had her choice and she’d chosen him, and that had to count for something.

Besides which, he loved her. And maybe that was a place to start.

With that thought squarely in mind, he held out his hand, and let her clasp it in her smaller one.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he said aloud. “Shall we?”

She nodded, still smiling.

“On my count,” she said. “One, two-”

And beneath the Fury’s watchful gaze, Nero Scaeva and Aurelia Laskaris stepped across the threshold together, hand in trembling hand.

#FFxivWrite2019 #aurelia laskaris #nero scaeva #nero/wol #this may be the most self-indulgent thing i've ever written but f it

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pyrewrites · 6 years ago

Text

The Ghost in the Basement

Read it on Ao3

“Remind me again how I let you assholes talk me into doing a group costume.” Beca grumbled as she stood in front of the mirror. She stared at the horrifying image in front of her. Her reflection. Beca Mitchell, the so-called 'cranky badass' Bella, stood wearing coke-bottle glasses, a god awful orange turtleneck sweater, an ugly brownish red skirt, knee-high socks that matched the sweater, and shoes that matched the skirt. She found herself wishing that the lenses in her glasses were as strong as they would be on the character she was dressed as so she wouldn't be able to see how ridiculous she looked.

“Because your awesome beyond reason best friend asked you to.” Amy said matter-of-factly from her position on her own bed.

Beca glanced at the Australians reflection over her shoulder. “And how the hell did you get away with not wearing a costume as part of this alleged group costume you scammed me into?”

“This is my costume.” Amy tugged at the bright blue collar around her neck.

“You so suck.” Beca grumbled again.

“You two almost ready?” Jessica said as she trotted up the stairs. She was wearing a white v-neck sweater over a blue button-up shirt with an orange scarf around her neck and blue slacks.

“Yeah. Hurry up. The Trebles party started like an hour ago. We are way beyond fashionably late already.” Ashley added. Her green t-shirt and brown pants looking almost as much like a 'costume' as Amy's collar.

“I am not even close to ready to be seen in public in this get-up.” Beca said as she pushed her way by them on her way down the stairs. “But my costume is done. Who the hell are we even supposed to be? Chloe just handed me all this shit and told me to put it on.”

“We are the Scooby-Doo gang, silly.” The aforementioned redhead said as she swung around the corner coming out of her room.

Beca's heart was suddenly having a hard time beating with any regular rhythm. The form-fitting, curve-hugging purple dress and lavender leggings Chloe was wearing made Beca start to consider that maybe this group costume thing wasn't such a stupid idea after all.

“Now let's gather everybody up and go get our party on!” Chloe squealed.

The group started down the hall to fetch the rest of the Bellas as quickly as possible. Starting with Stacie.

“Hey Stretch, you ready to go?” Beca called as they entered her and Cynthia Rose's room. Beca spun around to leave as soon as her eyes landed on the leggy brunette in what appeared to be nothing but lingerie. “What the hell Stace? Why don't you have your costume on?”

“This is my costume.” Beca could hear the shit-eating gin in her voice. “I'm Madonna when she did 'Like A Virgin' live on MTV. White lingerie and a veil.”

“Jesus Christ Stacie.” Beca said inching her way towards the hall.

“I think it looks goo-” Chloe stopped short when all the lights in the house went out.

Someone screamed, probably Jessica or Ashley. Then a scream that would have made Vincent Price proud, and unmistakably Stacie, ripped through the darkness.

“Stacie? What the fuck is going on?” Beca shouted. There was no answer, but Beca jumped when she felt a hand grab hers in the dark.

“Beca?” Chloe's voice shook and Beca felt an accompanying squeeze from the hand holding hers.

“Yeah, Chlo. I'm right here.” Beca said, pulling the redhead close.

The lights came back on, pulling another, shorter scream from both Jessica and Ashley.

“Stacie?” Chloe called out. The five of them faced into the empty room.

“The fuck?” Amy said. “There's no way she could have gotten out the door with all us here.”

“And her window is still closed. Plus she would have to jump all the way to the ground since there's nothing to climb out there.” Jessica offered.

“Then where the fuck is she?” Beca grumbled.

“Maybe it was the ghost from the basement?” Ashley said with panic in her eyes, pressing herself against Jessica.

“Oh don't you start.” Beca snapped.

“You were the one that said the basement was haunted Becs.” Amy said.

“It's also Halloween and she is probably just fucking with us.” Beca said while squeezing Chloe's hand because she didn't entirely believe her own words. “Let's just get the rest of the girls and Stacie can catch up when she gets bored of this little game.”

The group turned back to the hall and headed for Flo and Lily's room. They had only made it three steps down the hall when a figure in black hooded robes carrying a scythe stepped out in front of them. They all screamed and jumped back, nearly ending up in a heap as they tripped over each other. The figure turned slowly to take them in. It reached up and pulled the hood back.

Lily smiled at them from inside the hood. They all saw her lips move but none of them heard what she said. She turned and started down the stairs, her steps and the thumping of the scythe making more noise than her voice ever did. She was less than halfway down when they lights went out again. The group screamed again.

When silence descended again Beca realized she did not hear the sound of Lily on the stairs or walking across the living room.

“Lily?” Beca called into the inky blackness. “If you're there, like knock that stick against the floor or something.”

Nothing.

Beca felt Chloe press up against her back. She could feel the redhead shaking. She squeezed her hand again trying to calm them both down.

“Lily?” Jessica tried.

Still nothing.

The lights sprang back to life, earning another batch of screams.

“What the hell is going on with the lights?” Flo said as she came out of her bedroom. “I feel like I'm back home when the cartels and the police start dealing with people that try to protest.”

“It's the ghost from the basement.” Ashley said quickly before anyone else could offer a better explanation.

“It's not a ghost. It's Halloween and somebody decided to try to scare us before we made it to the party.” Beca said.

“You know the barrier between the land of the living and the dead is at it's weakest right now.” Flo said. “Dia de Los Muertos starts today when all our ancestors come back to visit. If it is a ghost this would be when it would be most powerf-”

She stopped when the lights went out again.

“Ay Dios Mio!” Flo screamed. Then the house went silent again.

“Motherfucker!” Beca shouted.

When the lights came back on the Pink Ladies jacket that was part of Flo's Grease costume was in a pile on the floor where she had been standing.

“Which one-a you bitches keep turning out the lights?” Cynthia-Rose shouted from somewhere downstairs. “I'm trying to eat something before the party and this shit's getting annoying.”

And as if on cue the lights went out again.

“Aw hell no!” Cynthia-Rose shouted. Followed by sounds of a struggle and chairs hitting the floor. Then silence.

“Fuck!” Beca snapped.

The instant the lights came back on they ran for the kitchen. They found several chairs overturned, a half-eaten sandwich, and a Diet Pepsi slowly pooling on the table. Ashley seemed to be in shock by this point because she grabbed some paper towels and started cleaning up the spilled soda, then began righting the chairs. She didn't even react when there was a loud crash from the basement.

“It's the ghost.” Ashley mumbled.

“What if we just head to the party and leave the ghost to be loud and stuff for the rest of the night?” Amy offered.

Again, as if on cue, screaming started coming from the basement. After several seconds individual voices could be identified. All the missing Bellas were screaming for help from behind the basement door.

“Anybody? I'm ready to go to the party.” Amy said as she inched towards the back door.

“Amy!” Chloe snapped. “We have to save our friends from...whatever this is.”

“Fine.” Amy huffed. “But I'm not going down there without a weapon.”

“That's a good idea!” Jessica said.

“Yeah. It is.” Chloe said as she grabbed an umbrella from the stand by the door.

“Really Chlo?” Beca cocked an eyebrow.

“What are you going to use? It's not like we have an arsenal in the house.” Chloe said. “At least without going into Lily's closet.”

“Something better than an umbrella.” Beca said as she picked up Stacie's lacrosse stick. “The only way that will be useful is if the ghost conjures up a raincloud.”

“Hey, guys?” Jessica called. “Ash is kinda out of it. I think I should stay here and keep an eye on her.”

“Good idea Jess.” Chloe said. “Amy, you ready?”

“Bet your sweet ass I am.” Amy said swinging a crowbar that she seemed to have pulled out of thin air.

“What...where...how...you know what? Never mind.” Beca said. “Let's get this shit over with.”

The three of them crept towards the basement door. The screams continued and were joined by crashes and thumps. Beca slowly pulled open the door, the hinges screeching nearly as loud as the increased volume of the screaming. She reached out with the lacrosse stick and flipped the light switch. Nothing happened. She flipped it several more times, all to no avail.

“Chlo?” Beca said without taking her eyes off the darkness in front of her. Without having to say another work Chloe's cellphone flashlight came on over her shoulder.

“Ready?” Beca whispered.

“Mhmm,” was Chloe's only reply.

Beca started down the stairs with Chloe virtually glued to her back. The moment Chloe's foot left the surface of the first step the door slammed behind them.

“Hey!” Beca screamed, throwing herself against the door. She tried the knob, pounded on the door, kicked it, even yelled at it. But nothing worked. “Amy! Get us out of here!”

“I'm trying!” Amy shouted back. “Good thing I've got the crowbar. Go get the girls. With luck, I'll have this thing open by the time you're done.”

“Shit.” Beca mumbled. “You ok Red?”

“Yeah. Just locked in a haunted basement about to be murdered.” Chloe sighed.

“I am so going to beat the shit out of this ghost or whatever the hell is down here.” Beca grumbled as she started back down the stairs.

The screaming only got louder the closer they got to the bottom of the stairs. As soon as the could see into the room Chloe started swinging her flashlight around the room.

“What the fuck?” Beca said as they saw no sign of anyone in the room, but the screaming continued unabated.

They crept around the bottom of the stairs, Chloe's flashlight panning over every inch of the room much slower this time, until they finally spotted it. A cd boombox with an orange, pumpkin-shaped post-it note on it.

Beca quickly walked over and punched the stop button and the room dropped into silence. She grabbed the note and read it aloud once Chloe had brought her the light.

“Dear Bhloe, we will let you out as soon as you admit you are in love with each other. Signed, The Bellas.” Beca rolled her eyes and stormed back to the stairs. “Oh fuck all of you!” She screamed.

She was answered by a chorus of laughter.

“Fine. Stay down there all night if you want.” Came Stacie's voice through the door.

“Beca.” Chloe said coming up behind her. “Would it really kill you to go up there and say it so we can go to the party?”

“Seriously?” Beca said. “You've seen how much shit they have given me over the last 3 years about this. If I go up there and say it they will never let me hear the end of it.”

“Hey, Chloe?” Ashley's voice now. “If she admits it you can text one of us and we will come back from the party.”

They heard another round of laughter retreating from the basement door, then they heard the front door slam. They saw shadows moving across the basement windows as the girls headed towards the Treble house.

“If one of you aca-bitches don't come back here and let us out right now you are all doing nothing but cardio for every rehearsal for a week!” Beca screamed at the window.

They heard the girls voices fade until all they could hear was the music coming from next door at the party.

“Was that really necessary?” Chloe stood with her arms crossed.

“Completely.” Beca smirked as she screwed the lightbulb back into the socket bathing the room in light. “And we aren't really stuck down here. I removed the screen from the window over the dryer the first time I got stuck down here when the door got stuck when I was home alone sophomore year.”

“You threatened them with cardio instead of biting the bullet and just saying you had feelings for me.” Chloe said still looking hurt.

“Yeah, I did.” Beca grinned. “It's almost 7 and I don't expect any of them to come home until at least 2 AM. Especially if they think I am down here dying of embarrassment. That gives me at least 7 uninterrupted hours to spend with my girlfriend.”

“You are such a brat.” Chloe said as she wrapped her arms around the woman she had secretly been dating for exactly a year. “Sooner or later we are going to have to tell them.”

“Sooner or later. But I think this is more fun. They all think they know something I don't. It's nice finally being the one that knows something they don't.” Beca smiled as she kissed the woman she was about to finally tell she was in love with her.

“You are such a child.” Chloe giggled when they finally broke apart.

“Yeah but you love me.” Beca smiled softly.

“Yeah. I really do.” Chloe breathed.

“I love you too Chlo.” Beca said before her brain could get in the way.

Chloe's eyes lit up and filled with tears all at once.

“Happy Anniversary.” Beca whispered as Chloe pulled her into another kiss.

Outside the window, beneath the breaker box, Emily had to clap her hands over her mouth to keep from squealing. She rolled away from the window, got to her feet, and ran for the party to tell the rest of the girls the good news.

#PPHW1 #PPHW #Pitch Perfect #Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #Fat Amy #Jessica #Ashley #Stacie Conrad #Flo Fuentes #Lily #Cynthia-Rose #Emily Junk #pyre writes #Pyre writes fics #writing

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miishae-archived · 6 years ago

Text

A Brush with Danger

( 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 )

Tagging: @septic-dr-schneep, @egopocalypse, @rogue-of-light-analyzed, @pushspacetocontinue, @badgemoon, @lil-lady-lily

Stacy was still holding her phone as she pulled the door open, laughing at the man who stood on the other side. She didn’t even mind the morning glare that caused her to squint. “You know Chase, when I sent you an email begging for help, I didn’t think you’d actually show.”

“Usually help means you need someone to take the kids off your hands.” Chase pulled his sunglasses off as Stacy beckoned him inside. “So, I’m offering.” He placed his sunglasses on top of his hat before shoving hands into his pockets. “You’ve been working harder lately, haven’t you?”

Stacy rolled her eyes. “You have no idea. Between work, them, their homework, my sister, I feel like I could use a day off. I hate the idea that my day off means I have to play mom too.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “I’ll pay you.”

“Stacy, I’m their father. You don’t have to pay me anything.” Chase laughed. “Hell, I’ll give you money to treat yourself to a manicure or something.”

Stacy sighed. “You have no idea how nice that sounds. I just wish you had a phone so I could call.” She ushered Chase inside, closing the door and blocking out the bright sunlight. Instant relief flooded her face at the dimness of the house. “Why don’t you have your phone, Chase? What if I needed you for any reason?”

“Call Trey’s phone.” Chase shrugged. “I told you over email I had to get out of the house for awhile.”

“Okay, but where are you staying? Don’t tell me with a friend again.” The grin faded from Stacy’s face. This was Chase, but had something happened to make him not want to talk to his brothers? Chase had been vague over email, only telling her that he was staying with a friend and that he was fine. She didn’t trust it.

“Yes, with a friend,” Chase repeated firmly. “I got into a fight with Marvin and Jackie, and Jacques has been helping me through it. I might go back soon, I just need to clear my head.”

“I don’t know anything about Jacques.” Stacy crossed her arms, staring up at Chase with suspicion. “He’s not going to join you today, is he? He’s just a friend, nothing more?” Chase stared blankly at her before his eyes widened when he realized what she was insinuating.

“Oh gods no, Stacy! No, I’m not sleeping with him! No, I’m here to help you out, okay? This is between you and me, no one else.”

“I don’t want them around anyone inappropriate. We had a deal, Chase.” She had nothing to go on other than his word, and he seemed genuine enough. Still, Stacy couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off with him. “Why are you fighting with your brothers?”

“It’s so stupid.” Chase rolled his eyes. “They’ve been babying me, so I left. I’m a grown man, Stace.”

She threw her hands up in defense. “Okay, okay. I trust you. I’m sorry I’m such a nag.” She offered an apologetic smile. “You know how I can get, what with everything that goes on in that house of yours. I don’t want our kids to get hurt.”

“No, don’t worry. I’ll take them to the waterpark today. I’ll hang onto Trey’s phone too, so we can text each other. I’ll even show you what you’re missing out on while the kids and I go down every waterslide.”

“Chase, it’s October.”

“Indoor waterparks exist!”

Stacy laughed. “I know, I know. Wait here, I’ll go get them.” Stacy disappeared upstairs to wrangle the children It took longer than Stacy wanted to, with Lydia immediately grabbing at Chase’s legs and clinging onto him, and Trey trying to impress his dad by showing off all his latest toys. Chase seemed to be encouraging the delay too, as if he knew it was driving Stacy mad.

Finally, after almost forty-five minutes, Stacy closed the door behind the group, ears almost ringing in the silence. Chase had left her with some money, enough that she could go pamper herself twice over. She really needed this.

She started to head upstairs when her phone rang. Looking down at the caller ID, she let out a frustrated groan before answering. “Marvin, you have to stop calling me.”

“I’ve been trying to reach you all week. Stacey you can hang up later, but this is important: Have you heard from Chase? He’s been missing for a week now.”

“Missing?” Stacy snorted. “I know you’re known for your theatrics, but you can’t call me up with a sob story. He just left with the kids.”

“....what?” Marvin’s voice sounded as if he was struggling to speak now, it was far more scratchy than it was just seconds ago. “Stacy you shouldn’t have.”

“Marvin, whatever you’re fighting about, it’s between you two to work out. He’s allowed to see his kids.”

“Stacy, he’s been missing. Someone kid-fighting? He said we were fighting?” Marvin’s voice was rising with panic. “Stacy what else did he say?”

Those feelings of unease were coming back, stronger than ever. “Nothing, Marvin. He just said he was staying with a friend. Jack..no...it was French. Jacques? I guess Jacques was helping Chase out while you were fighting....”

“Stacy, no. Jacques is the one who kidnapped him. Oh god, Chase has the kids!”

“Marvin, I really don’t want to believe you.” Stacy’s own breathing was shaky now. “For all I know, this is just some elaborate hoax, some way to give me hell for....something. I don’t know.”

Marvin barked out a harsh laugh. “Stacy, we don’t want to drag you into anything. Jacques tried to fucking kill me to keep Chase, and you just let Chase walk out your front door, with Trey and Lydia.”

The floor could have opened up beneath her feet, and Stacy could have plummeted to her death. An earthquake could have hit her house and destroyed everything, and she would have been okay with either scenario. The idea of some madman and Chase walking away with her kids rendered her frozen in place, staring blankly at the wall. Had Chase gone evil? He loved his kids, he always doted on them when he could. How had he gotten away from Jacques? Was Marvin even telling the truth?

“Stacy, are you there? Hello?”

“...I’m here, Marv,” she whispered. “Chase seemed so normal. I don’t think-”

“We think Jacques did something to him. Hey, listen. Can I come over? I don’t think you should be alone right now. Or...get in your car and drive over here. I’ll send Jackie out to make sure you’re not being followed. We’re going to figure this out, okay?”

“The kids--”

“We’ll get them back, I promise. Nothing’s going to happen to them. Stacy, listen to me. We’ll get them and Chase back. Please come over here, we’ll talk.”

Stacy hung up without saying anything. There was no reason to get dressed up now. Grabbing at her purse, she shoved the money, and her phone, instead before grabbing her keys and running to her car. If Chase and her kids were in trouble, she wasn’t going to ignore Marvin’s calls anymore.

She just hoped nothing happened to them.

#miishae writes #chase brody #stacy brody #fanfiction #septic fanfiction #kids #septic egos #part five #i finally found at title!

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soul-music-is-life · 6 years ago

Note

Could you do a drabble were Alison has a miscarrige please?

A word about this one:please note that the subject material for this is heavy and it is not somethingI take lightly. It hits very close to home. The loss of an infant is adelicate thing that has an impact on that baby’s family’s lives forever.This is an extremely sensitive subject that widely affects parents everywhere. Anytime I am writing something this raw and real I worry about the impact it mighthave on readers.

Much like my 9-11 oneshot I had to really consider whether ornot this was something I wanted to put out there, because the last thing I wantto do is peel open healing wounds of anyone who has dealt with this. However, withlast month having been Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month I am alsoaware that this is a subject that is considered worth talking about. Everysingle baby that has been lost is WORTH remembering.

That being said, I dourge anyone who is sensitive about it to proceed with caution (I’ve put up a “read below the line” break when it starts to get heavy because the last thing I want is for someone to be scrolling through tumblr and come across it without having a chance to scroll by).

Every experienceis different, and I only hope that I was able to write this particular scenariowith Alison and Emily respectfully and in a tactful way. To anyone who has experienced the loss of a baby, know that my heart is with you. Always.

Note that it’s alengthy prompt. I did not want to rush this one.

***

Three words changed Emily DiLaurentis-Fields life and thelives of her entire family. Three words.

“Something is wrong.”

Alison had been feeling off all day. Emily had taken the dayoff to care for her. Alison’s first pregnancy had been somewhat difficult, butit was a breeze compared to her second one.

She’d felt nauseated and crampy all morning. Emily thoughtthey should go to the doctor, but Alison insisted she just needed to rest. Shewas tired, nothing more. And while Emily conceded to Alison’s wishes, she stillfelt a strange uneasiness needling the back of her brain.

Emily could feel it. It was the same twisted feeling she’dfelt in the pit of her stomach the day her dad had died. Something was wrong.

There was something off about Alison, and it worried her.She’d practically spent the entire day hovering over her and pacing so muchthat she was wearing a hole in the carpet.

Alison was worried about how jittery she was. But she was sofocused on Emily that she didn’t realize that her own body was trying to tellher something. A sensation, a warning. It’s like the Earth had slowed on itsaxis and the clouds were drifting down around her…and her family. The familyshe was expecting. But she shook itoff, her attention focused more on wondering why the hell Emily was acting likethe world was crashing down around them.

She didn’t know that very soon, it was going to come crashing down.

An hour later when Alison felt the first spasm of pain sheknew her morning sickness was something more.

She called out for Emily, but Emily couldn’t hear her overthe sound of the microwave downstairs in the kitchen. She was heating upAlison’s tea for her and making her some soup for dinner.

Alison felt an odd pressure against her stomach andsuddenly, she felt like she had to pee. So she sat up against the edge of thebed and put her swollen feet against the ground.

She glanced over her baby bumpat her toes. It dawned on her how strange it was that she was already retaining somuch water when she was only halfway into her pregnancy.

When she was pregnant with the twins she’d made it almost tothe eighth month before her feet and ankles had started swelling. But that hadbeen twelve years ago.

Maybe her body had changed, she rationalized.

She felt another tight spasm in her pelvis and then anotherstab of pain. She huffed as she got to her feet. She thought she felt movementinside of her belly, but it wasn’t a motion she was used to. It wasn’t a kickor the twists and turns of the baby trying to settle.

Something was wrong.

She tried to push the worst thoughts out of her head. Thelast ultrasound two weeks ago had been fine. Her son was fine. Three nights agohe’d been kicking up a storm. Lily and Grace had taken turns putting their handon her belly and marveling at their little brother’s strength. Lily said shethought he was going to be a ninja. Grace was convinced he was going to be akicker for the NFL.

Alison stood up, feeling a liquid leaking into herpants. She clenched her thighs together to try and hold her urine until shecould get to the bathroom.

She was halfway to the adjoining bathroom when somethingtightened roughly in her pelvis. The pain was so intense that she fell forward,grasping at the side of the dresser. She cried out and started huffing outunsteady breaths. She groaned.

“Alison?” She heard Emily’s concerned voice behind her.

Alison glanced over her shoulder and saw Emily holding atray with a bowl of soup and a mug of hot herbal tea. Emily saw the look ofpain contorted on Alison’s face. She immediately put the tray down on top ofthe small armoire by the door.

“Ali? What is it?”

Alison cried out, shrieked,in pain. Emily was by her side in an instant.

“Emily, something is wrong.” She cried.

Something is wrong.

The words terrified them both.

Alison reached down into her pants because she’d felt a warmwetness pooling in her underwear. It was too early for her to go into labor, soshe knew it wasn’t her water breaking. But she also knew at this point itwasn’t urine either.

When she pulled her fingers out covered in blood her faceblanched. She felt a sharp pain in her abdomen and doubled over. Alison lookedat Emily, tears filling her eyes. When was the last time she’d felt their sonmoving? He’d been still most of the day. He hadn’t been active at all yesterdayeither.

“I can’t feel him moving anymore.” She suddenly feltpanicky.

More blood was soaking through her clothing. Alison moaned,grabbing Emily’s arm for support. She tugged at the hem of her maternity pants,desperately trying to pull them down, because she knew…she knew what was happening. And she wasn’t going to let it happen.

“Baby, you should sit down…”

But Alison was too frantic to hear her. She moved her pantsdown, almost falling over in the process. She cried in frustration when anotherwave of pain hit her and she had to stop moving because the movement made itworse.

“Hey, take it easy.” Emily put her hand on top of Alison’s,helping her steady herself as they worked her pants and underwear down to takea look. Her thighs were soaked in blood. It was dripping down her legs. Shestarted to sink to the ground on her knees. Emily caught her before she hit thefloor.

“Emily, I don’t feel right.” Alison’s head started saggingon her shoulders.

“Hey, Alison, look at me.” Emily put her free hand on Alison’scheek.

But Alison couldn’t focus. Another sharp pain rocked herbody and she screamed out in pain.

“Oh, God. It hurts.” She cried, squeezing Emily’s arm so tightthat her fingernails dug into her skin, drawing blood. It was worse than laborpains. Because at least with her labor pains she’d had with Lily and Grace sheknew she’d get to see the light in their eyes when they were born. “It’s tooearly. This can’t happen yet…” Another stabbing pain. Another cry. “Emily!”

“Ali, you’re going to be okay. Just…”

“He’s in distress.” Alison cried. “I can feel it.” Shegroaned. “Em…” She weakly raised her head to look at her wife. “Promise me ifit comes down to me or him you’ll choose him.”

Nineteen weeks was almost five months. Micro-preemies couldmake it. Against all odds. And she knew her son was strong. There had to be a way. He had to survive. She couldn’t be losing him. She’d done everything right. It wasn’t fair. It couldn’t happen.

“Hey, it’s not going to come to that.” Emily tried to staycalm.

Please God, don’t letit come to that. Emily wasn’t sure she could make that call if it did.

Alison saw stars. Her vision started to fade.

“Alison, hold on.”

Another bolt of pain. Another agonized scream. Followed bysilence. Chill-inducing, heart-stopping silence. Alison slunk down into Emily’sbody, her large belly pushing her into an awkward position. Emily moved heraround until she was behind Alison, propping her up, trying to rouse her.

“Mom?” A timid voice whimpered from the doorway.

When Emily looked up she saw Grace staring at the bloodpooling on the floor. She looked like she was going to pass out…or throw up.

“Grace, I need you to call 911.” Emily shifted so she waskneeling behind her wife, getting ready to pick her up.

Grace, her normally wildly disobedient brat of a child didexactly as she was told, probably for the first time in her life. She couldn’tfind her phone so she ran into Lily’s room in a panic.

“Something is wrong with mom.” Grace had tears in her eyes.“I think it’s the baby. We need to call an ambulance, but I can’t find myfucking phone.” She growled in frustration.

“What?” Lily scrambled off of her bed, knocking her mathbook and several sheets of paper on to the floor.

She grabbed her phone and quickly called 911. The second theoperator answered Lily nervously spouted out,

“Our mom is pregnantand something is wrong and we need help.”

“What if he dies? Or mom?” Grace started to hyperventilate.“What if they both die?”

“Hey, calm down, Grace.” Lily tried to comfort her.

Lily split her focus between Grace and the 911 operator asthey both ran down the hallway towards their mothers’ room.

Emily slid one of her arms underneath Alison’s knees and herother arm underneath Alison’s shoulders, pulling her off of the ground. Alison’shead lolled on her shoulders, her eyes weakly opening up. She looked up atEmily, a pitiful expression in her eyes.

“Emily…”

“Just hang on. We’re going to get you to the hospital.” Emilystarted walking out of their room towards the hallway. “Everything is okay,Ali. I’ve got you.”

“We called 911,” Lily said, her hands trembling, the phonestill in her hand.

The call was still connected. Emily could hear the operatortrying to say something, but her focus was on getting Alison safely down thesteps. When she got downstairs, she gently laid Alison down against the couch.

Alisongroggily opened her eyes, looking at her. She started to cry. Emily wiped awayher tears. Neither one of them had the words to express the pain they felt.

They heard a stifled sniffle behind them and when Emilylooked over her shoulder she saw her twelve year old twins. They looked liketerrified toddlers.

“I accidentally hung up on 911.” Lily whimpered.

“It’s going to be okay girls.” Emily reached out to take thephone.

But she didn’t call 911 back. Instead, she called her bestfriend. Because she knew the girls needed to be looked after. She didn’t wantthem at the hospital. She didn’t want their memories of this to be any worsethan they already were. She didn’t want them to sit in stiff waiting roomchairs in a hallway that reeked of disinfectant, rubbing alcohol, and death.

Hanna had picked up after one ring. She and Emily had beentexting all day about how Alison wasn’t feeling well. So when Hanna picked up,she felt a tense ball in the pit of her stomach telling her something waswrong.

“Em, is everything okay?”

“No.” Emily didn’t realize how much she was shaking untilshe heard the sound of her voice. “I’m going to the hospital with Alison. Canyou come over and sit with the girls?”

“I’ll be there in five minutes.” Three if she ran the stopsigns and red lights, which she absolutely planned on doing.

She hung up and bolted for her car just as the ambulance waspulling into the DiLaurentis-Fields’ driveway. The girls saw the flashinglights. There was a moment of panic from the twins. Grace started to cry. Lilywas calm, but shaky. She grabbed her mom’s arm gently.

“Mom, we want to go with you.” Lily had tears in her eyes.

“I know, baby. But you and Grace need to stay here. It’s forthe best. Your Aunt Hanna will take care of you. And I’m going to take care ofyour mom.”

“What about the baby?” Grace questioned. “Will you take careof him, too?”

“Oh, sweetie.” Emily reached out to brush Grace’s tearsaway. She didn’t know how to explain what was going on to them, not withoutbreaking down. “Look, whatever happens, we’ll get through it together.”

“Is he going to die?” Grace asked.

“Grace!” Lily hissed, almost in a panic, like the questionwas going to jinx the situation, like their little brother’s fate was in their hands and that if they thought good thoughts nothing bad would happen to him.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen. But I promise youwe’ll let you know something as soon as we know. Now, you be good for your AuntHanna.”

The girls didn’t argue.

Hanna got there just as they were loading Alison into theambulance.

“The girls are inside.” Emily blinked in shock when she sawHanna rushing towards her.

“Hey, I’ll take care of them. You just take care of Ali.”

Emily nodded. She didn’t realize she was crying. Hannareached up, brushing her thumbs against her best friend’s cheeks.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Emily’s body shook withsobs.

“Just breathe, Emily. Ali needs you right now.”

That’s all Emily needed to hear to get ahold of herself. Shehugged Hanna before she climbed into the ambulance with her wife. Emily waiteduntil they were on the road, then she called her mother in tears, tellingher what was going on.

Alison was in and out the whole way to the hospital. She wasbleeding a lot and she was dizzy from the pain and the blood loss. The shockhad hit her hard. But she was fully aware of her surroundings when they werewheeling her into the emergency room. The pain of the contractions was moreintense than the ones she’d had with Lily and Grace. Or perhaps she was just ina weaker state.

She looked around the room. The lights felt so bright. Theair felt cold. There were people in scrubs running all around. The only thingthat brought her any comfort was seeing Emily by her side. She had squeezed herhand so much that Emily had lost feeling in her fingers.

Alison felt a cool gel oozing on to her belly, but unlikewhen they’d gotten their sonograms there was no tittering excitement in theroom. The doctor frowned at the ultrasound image. Alison was somewhat cognizantof the doctor talking to them, telling them their worst fears.

Yet despite knowing what she knew, Alison still fought theurge to push. Because it was too early. And what if the doctors were wrong?What if he was okay? What if they were missing something? What if there wassomething more that could be done?

“Alison, we need you to push.” The doctor urged.

“No.” Alison cried weakly.

“Ali…” She heard Emily’s shaky voice.

“No!” She hissed angrily at her wife.

She was mad at Emily, because why wasn’t she fighting this?Why wasn’t she screaming at the doctors to do something? Why was she so quick tobelieve the worst? Why wasn’t she stoppingthis? She knew it was irrational, but she didn’t care. Because…

No. Alison couldn’t accept it. She refused to believe thiscould actually be happening. Just days ago their little bug had been kicking upa storm. Just two weeks ago they were watching him swirl around in his 3Dsonogram. He looked like he was deep in thought, leaning on his knuckles as ifhe had a very serious matter on his mind: like what was better? Hot Fries orCurly Fries? The real life questions their genius son would ask.

She broke down in tears. Of pain. Of exhaustion. Of anger.Of fear.

“Emily, I don’t want to. Please don’t let them make me do this. Iwant to go home.” She begged.

Hearing the words ripped Emily’s heart to shreds. What wasworse than losing their son was watching the pain on Alison’s face as she triedto come to terms with it, of seeing Alison try to bargain with the inevitable. Emily felt helpless. Because all she wanted to do wasswoop in and save her. To stop this from happening. She was angry at herself.Angry for not being more insistent, for not doing something more.

“Please, can we go home?” Alison cried.

Because if they went home none of this would happen. Shewould be fine. Their son would be fine.

“I know you’re scared. And I know you’re hurting. But I’mright here, honey.” Emily put her other hand over their joined fingers, cuppingAlison’s hand in hers. “I’m right here and I’m not going to let you do thisalone.”

“Tell me this isn’t real.” Alison whimpered.

“I can’t do that.” Emily’s voice came out as a tremblingcry.

Alison’s body was contracting and pulsating and she felt likescreaming, because her brain and her heart were in a battle to the death withone another. Her brain told her the truth. She’d heard what was said to her,but she couldn’t mentally process it. She couldn’t comprehend it, because herheart was telling her not to give up. Her heart told her that maybe there wasstill hope.

It was a nightmare. It had to be. Some angry inner demonplaying on an expectant mother’s worst fear. She shut her eyes tightly, beggingto wake up, begging for the dream to end.

Another wave of contractions hit her and she shot up in thebed and screamed. She saw the doctor sitting between her knees, her feet stillin the stirrups. She was still here. She was still in her nightmare, in thishospital room with all these somber faces.

Still, she refused to push. She turned to Emily crying,

“This isn’t real.” She repeated. “This is a nightmare.”

“Ali…”

But she shut Emily out. She closed her eyes, images of the pregnancy flashingthrough her mind. The countless fertility treatments they’d done. The joy ontheir faces when the pregnancy test came back positive. Listening to his littleheartbeat for the first time. Telling the twins. Telling their friends. Comingup with his name. Planning everything about what they’d do after he was born.

“I’m having a nightmare. I want to wake up. Emily, tell meto wake up.”

Emily lowered her head, trying to hold in her tears, tryingto hold it together for her wife. Her heart was thrumming so fast she feltdizzy. She was vaguely aware of a nurse asking her if she was okay. She brushed her off, telling her she was fine. Though, for a few seconds she thought she was going to pass out.

But she forced herself to ignore her own pain and focus onAlison. She moved in closer to her wife. She placed a firm, yet delicate kissagainst Alison’s sweaty temple. She could actually taste her pain on her lips.

“Baby, we’re losing him. I’m so sorry, but we’re losinghim.” Emily said it out loud. She needed to hear it just as much as Alison.

“We…we’re not. It’s just…he’s going to be okay.”

“Alison, listen to me. If you don’t do what the doctors saywe could lose you, too. The girls and I could lose you.” She glanced at themachines monitoring Alison. She knew they were dangerously close to anemergency situation with Alison. “I know you don’t want to…” She didn’t want her to. Emily wanted towake up from this nightmare, too. “But I can’t lose you, too, Ali. I can’t…”

Alison saw the desperation in Emily’s face. And she knew shehad no choice but to do as the doctor told her. He counted slowly, coaching herthrough as if it were a completely normal labor.

She had flashes to when the girls were born, her memories ofthat day full of brightness and happiness compared to the dark and drearyclouds looming in the hospital today. She wasn’t sure what was being rippedapart more: the birth canal or her heart. She pushed, panted, and cried. AndEmily was by her side the entire time.

“One more push…” The doctor had his hands up in between herlegs.

“I can’t.” Alison cried. Not physically. Not emotionally.She just couldn’t. She couldn’t bring her son into this world just to lose him.

“Baby, you have to.” Emily squeezed her hand, her eyes fullof tears. She pressed her forehead against Alison’s temple, lightly kissing thetop of her jaw. “You have to.”

Alison felt one final contraction and she yelped. She took abreath and looked at Emily for support, her big brown eyes telling her whatshe’d been saying all along: I’m here.She squeezed Emily’s hand and let out a sob as she bore down.

There were no cries of joy from the mothers. There was nocrying coming from the tiny little soul that was in the doctor’s hands. The roomwas silent. And the silence was the loudest noise in the world.

Alison fell back against the bed, breathless sobs rockingher body. Emily pushed up as close as she could get to her, crawling againstthe side of the bed just so she could hold her. It was almost an effortlessmovement, a natural reaction to be there for her. Alison gripped her shirttightly in her fingers, twisting the fabric as her tears soaked her clothing. Emilysoothingly stroked the back of her head.

Their moment was broken up by the sounds of shuffling at thefoot of the bed. The doctor cleared his throat. When they looked at him theysaw a tiny bundled cloth in his hands and they knew their son was wrapped insideof it.

“Would you like to see your son?” His voice was soft,delicate. It almost sounded broken, despite the fact that he’d probably had todo this thousands of times before.

Alison couldn’t bring herself to look, but Emily couldn’tlook away. She moved forward to see her baby. He was tiny. So small that hecould fit in the palm of the doctor’s hand. His skin was thin and she could seehis microscopic little threadlike veins that had once been coursing with lifeunderneath his paper-thin skin. His eyes were closed, not fully developed yet.His arms were the size of Emily’s pinky finger.

His little hands and feet were tiny, probably no bigger thanthe size of a dime. He had all ten fingers and all ten toes. His hands, handsthat would never reach out for his mommies, were curled against his chest. Histiny feet – feet that would never touch the ground, feel the grass between histoes, feel the sand on the beach – were crossed at the ankles. He looked like alittle doll that had been preserved in a shining coat of wax.

He looked beautiful to her. She felt her emotions bubblingto the surface, but she still refused to break down. Not in front of her wife.She had to be strong for Alison.

“Would you like to hold him?” The doctor offered.

Emily felt Alison shift, her curiosity getting the better ofher. Emily looked at the exhausted blonde. Alison looked back at her and noddedsilently, tears still streaming down her face.

They took turns holding him, telling him how much they lovedhim and how perfect he was. They spoke to him, they sang to him, they kissedhis tiny fragile little body. They laid in the bed together for what felt likethe longest time before a nurse came in, offering to take him so they couldmake molds of his handprint and footprint for them.

She took their tiny little boy from them, turning to offerto bring him right back with a cooling system so they could spend as much timewith him as they wanted. But Alison told Emily she couldn’t say goodbye to himagain, so they told their son they loved him one final time before he was takenout of their lives for the last time.

When the nurse walked out Alison started to cry again. Emilypulled her close as she wept. The keening wails that echoed throughout the roomdidn’t sound human. It was the primal cries that only came with the loss of achild. Emily held her, rocking her as she cried.

The thoughts going through Alison’s mind were the loudest things she’d ever heard. What had happened? Why them? How long ago had it happened? When had it happened? Could they have done something more? If they had come to the hospital this morning like Emily had wanted would he still be alive? Or had it happened days ago and she’d just been carrying on as normal?

And the loudest question of all…

“Was…was it me? Did I do something wrong?” Alison sniffled.

“Oh, honey…” Emily reached out, stroking her cheek. “Baby,no.”

“Then why did this happen? What happened to our little boy?”

Emily didn’t have an answer, and it killed her. All shecould do was hold her and be there for her.

They slowly let their friends and family know. Hanna madeseveral phone calls for them, and then per their request, brought the twins tothe hospital so they could be there with them when they got the news. Bothgirls sobbed and cried until they had no tears left to cry. They took the loss of their little brother incredibly hard.

They had a few visitors in the hospital, but for the mostpart their friends didn’t want to overwhelm them, so they sent cards andflowers and all of their love. People didn’t talk much about miscarriages. They didn’tknow how, and that was okay. Because it was better to hear a generic “I loveyou” than for someone to say the wrong thing. Sometimes the best thing to do wassay nothing, and to act out of love instead.

Sometimes just being there was enough. So that’s what theirfriends did. They loved them. A hand squeeze here. A hug there. A warm meal, orfour. A realistic “I’m sorry. This fucking sucks. I love you and I’m here for you,” compliments ofHanna.

When they got home Emily busied herself taking care ofAlison and the girls. The days went by in a haze. They had to go throughsomething that they never in their wildest nightmares thought they’d have to gothrough: picking out a tiny casket for their baby and planning a service forhis burial.

The service was beautiful, a bittersweet testament to theimpact the little boy had made upon their lives and the lives of their friends andfamily.

Emily managed to hold it together, throughout the serviceand the following days. She was Alison’s rock. It was only when she was sortingthrough the nursery with Hanna one day when the girls were at school and Alisonwas asleep that she felt the feelings of grief consuming her.

She came across a little onesie her son would never get towear. It was the one they’d picked out to bring him home from the hospital in.Of course, he’d been way too small for it at birth, so they’d buried him insomething different.

“Em, I found some of Lily’s and Grace’s old baby toys. Doyou want to…”

When she turned around she saw Emily sinking down againstthe crib with the onesie in her hands, clutching it like a lifeline. Tears were streaming down her face. She started taking sharp harsh breaths. Shecouldn’t breathe.

“Oh, Em…” Her best friend quickly crawled beside her and engulfed herin a hug.

Truth be told, it was a relief for Hanna to see her finallyletting go. The girls had been worried that she’d been holding everythinginside. She’d showed very little emotion at the hospital and at the service. Theyknew she was trying to keep it together for her wife, but they also knew it wasin her nature to internalize until it nearly killed her. They knew that it wasonly a matter of time before it consumed her. Hanna was thankful she was therewhen it happened.

“Han…” She held the onesie near her face, imagining himwearing it, imagining what he’d look like in it, what he’d smell like…

“I know.” Hanna replied soothingly. “I know, Em.”

“He’s gone.” She choked.

Hanna knew there wasn’t anything she could say to make itany better, so she just held her and let her cry. They stayed in their embracefor several minutes.

They heard a shuffling noise. When they looked up they sawAlison standing at the door. She walked towards them, slowly, almostghost-like.

Emily dropped the onesie in surprise and wiped her cheeks, butshe couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. She didn’t want her wife to see herlike this. She didn’t want to worsen her grief.

“Ali, I…”

“Emily, it’s okay.” Alison felt her eyes filling with tears.She leaned down next to her wife, putting her palm against her damp cheek.

Hanna moved back, letting them have their space. She pulledthe onesie off of the floor and stood up.

“You’re supposed to be in bed resting,” Emily said, her nosecompletely stuffed up from her crying jag.

“I want you with me.” Alison felt a tear slip down her face.

She knew her wife needed her just as much as she’d needed Emily. Emily needed to grieve, too. Alison was aware that thebrunette had yet to face her own feelings because she was too busy trying toprotect hers. She knew Emily needed to rest, too.

“You can’t hold it in forever, Em.” Alison wiped away someof Emily’s tears. “Come on.” She held out her hand.

Emily didn’t resist. Her entire body was aching with a painthat was more than physical. She followed Alison into their room. They crawledinto the bed, Alison reaching out to wrap her arms around her wife. And for thefirst time, they cried, they grievedtogether.

In the following days and weeks they leaned on one anothermore than they ever had in the past. The pain never went away, but it goteasier to manage with time. Losing a baby was very much like losing a part ofone’s soul. Their son had taken a piece of both of them with him.

There wasn’t a day that went by that they didn’t think of him.Of the birthdays he would never celebrate. Of the adventures he would never getto have. Of the goodnight kisses he’d never experience. They wondered what his first words would have been, what his laugh would have sounded like, and if he would have had a favorite bedtime story.

They often thoughtabout things like how much he would have loved his big sisters or what hisfirst day of school would have been like. Who he would have befriended. What hewould have learned. How he would have changed society. Every time they saw achild exploring the playground, learning how to ride a bike, or taking theirfirst steps they thought of him.

As a reminder of the impact he had on those around him theyhad the mold of his little hands and feet in a small casing on their mantle,along with a small golden plate with his name.

Samuel Wayne Fields“It is the smallestsouls that leave behind everlasting love. Forever in our hearts”

And those hearts were broken, but Alison and Emily wouldn’thave their hearts be shattered for anything less. The heavy grief they had forhim was because of the insurmountable amount of love they felt for him. Thatlove was what they tried to hold on to. He was gone, but the imprint he hadleft on their hearts would last forever. They held that little boy in theirhearts every second of every day.

And they always would.

#Pretty Little Liars #Emison #PLL #Emily Fields #Alison DiLaurentis #prompts #asks #trigger warning #miscarriage

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