#him crying into her hair in the river scene never fails to make me sob harder if i wasn't already sobbing

[cerealbishh]

"Just another nobody pretending to be a somebody." "You're the best somebody I've ever met."

🎥: @bikinibottomdayz

#almost famous musical #daniel sovich #penny lane #william miller #ugh they have such great chemistry #the way they play their characters is just so soft #like i said in another post they truly feel like two kids just trying to make their way through the world of rock and roll #so many little moments between them i wish i could fit into one post #i find it so sweet that she was his first penny lane for his william debut show #they seem to have quite a few pictures together outside the theatre and seem pretty close #lol the way he comments 'girlie' on her posts #the way his hands wrap around hers when she hands him his notepad in the second gif #him crying into her hair in the river scene never fails to make me sob harder if i wasn't already sobbing #their hug in the last gif??? i know solea and casey hug too but this hug hits differently because it gets tighter #i kind of wanna make a gifset of the small moments i appreciate in some of their scenes #alisa melendez #her letting him try her glasses on and him taking the coat she left behind after real world? ugh!!! #alísa melendez #i promise i always put her name first i just edit the post on my phone so i can put use the accent with the 'i' #i lipread sometimes and she asks him if he wants to try her glasses and he says 'yeah!'

[arizona2004]

Who the real Wolves Are. part 4

Azriel x reader

word count: 1387

Note: This one doesn’t have a lot of Azriel/ relationship stuff 

The next day was a series of events I didn’t feel very present for. When I woke in the morning, Azriel was not there, and before I went down for breakfast, I didn’t fail to notice the faint bloodstain in the sink and the few drops near the bedroom door. I had expected him to be downstairs, but when I arrived in the dining room, he was nowhere to be seen. 

“He’s doing some paperwork. He’ll be back soon,” Feyre’s voice floats from across the room. Nyx is propped in her lap, shoving his cheeks with a muffin Feyre looks up from him to me, “He mentioned you’ll be needing some clothes, though. Wanna go shopping?”

*

It was late morning When the three of us left the River House: me, Feyre, and Nyx. We walked the streets for hours as Feyre dragged me into every store to try on clothes. I felt outside of my body, not really caring about the clothes at all. Feyre stored the many bags in a place “in-between,” Whatever that meant. By the time we were done, the early hours of the afternoon had passed so, we found a small restaurant on the edge of the Sidra to enjoy a late lunch. I could tell Feyre was concerned, but I didn’t have the heart to care. 

“Az planned the whole thing, ya know. It’s gonna be small. We found a quiet spot for her grave.” Oh, she’s talking about the funeral later today. “I don’t think any of us are gonna go. Unless you want us to. But we figured you’d rather it just be you and Az.”

I nodded, the only sign I had heard what she said. Feyre turned back to Nyx, cleaning up the mess he made while shoving potatoes into his mouth. 

Lunch was mostly quiet after that. Only bits of conversation here and there. When we returned to the house, I thanked Feyre, again, for the clothes and lunch. She simply gave me a small smile and reminded me I could talk to her if I needed to. I only nodded again and walked to Azriel’s room as Feyre walked the other way to Nyx’s to put him down for a nap.

When I walked into the room, the blood from before was cleaned up, and bags and parcels littered the room. I collapsed onto the bed, wishing Azriel was here to hold me and fell asleep. He woke me an hour later. He sat on the edge of the bed dressed in a neat black shirt and pants. It was the first time I’d seen him dressed in something other than his fighting leathers. 

“I figured this was the dress you wanted to wear for the service,” he held up the plain black dress with a halter neckline. I nodded. Setting it down on the bed, he continued, “I made room in my dresser and put all your clothes away,” he wasn’t looking at me, as if he was worried I might be upset about it. I wasn’t, but I blushed when I realized he must have put all the undergarments away too. Even the lacey things Feyre convinced me to buy while she wore a devious smirk on her face.

“What have you been doing all day?”

“Rhys had me running around doing all kinds of things.”

For a spymaster, he could be a pretty shitty liar, “Are you hurt?”

“No, why would I be hurt,” he asked, finally looking at me.

“There was blood on the floor and in the sink. Where’s it from,” I asked though I had a good idea of the answer. 

He looked away again. Thinking up another shitty lie, I’m sure. “Don’t lie to me,” I said slowly, “I figure you’d go. I told you their names, knowing you’d go. I’m not upset about that, but you didn’t have to hide it, and I wish you wouldn’t lie to me about it.” I wasn’t angry exactly. It was just the stress getting to me. I let out a heavy sigh trying to let go of it all.

Azriel sat down next to me again and pressed his forehead to mine, closing his eyes. “I-” For a moment, I was sure he would tell me he loved me, “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I’ll never lie to you again. No secrets,” he kissed me on the head and left to give me privacy. 

I wasn’t surprised to feel disappointed. It was foolish to hope he loved me as much as I loved him. Slowly I rose from the bed and went to the bathroom. As quickly as possible, I bathed. It was half an hour later when Azriel returned. I was dressed and brushing through my hair, avoiding the inevitable. 

*

The scene was beautiful and small, of course. A small cemetery lied just outside the city on the coast side. There was no ceremony or even a priestess to say a few words. On the human side, we didn’t do such things. People would speak, and anyone that wanted to say goodbye would come. There was no one her who wanted to say goodbye, though. Just me. The grave was dug, and her casket sat next to it. 

Azriel stood by my side dutifully the whole time. He only left me alone when I walked to her side to say goodbye, but I didn’t even know what to say, so I just stood there crying. After a few minutes, Az came to my side. I hugged him like I would die if I let go. He held me back all the while I sobbed into his shirt. When my tears eventually slowed, Azriel pulled back. He left me to walk to the casket and said a few words to Gran. I couldn’t hear, but I think there was a “thank you” in there somewhere. 

When he returned to my side, he motioned for the fae to lower her. We stayed while they buried her. Azriel holding me as I breathed slowly, and tears slipped down my face. Even after we stayed. It was dark, the moon high in the sky when we returned to the River house. 

Everyone was drinking in the sitting room when we walked in. They all looked up, I think Feyre was going to say something, but Rhys laid a hand on her leg, motioning for her not to. Azriel tried to lead me upstairs, but I walked into the sitting room instead. Plopping down on the couch next to Cassian, I grabbed the bottle of wine from his hand and took a large gulp. Everyone was staring, “do you guys usually drink in silence,” I asked, snippier than I’d intended. Azriel lowered himself next to me but didn’t try to pull the bottle from my hand as I lifted it to my lips again. The conversation picked up again, but I didn’t bother pretending like I was listening.

We sat there for hours. I stayed silent the entire time, and Azriel, next to me,  seemed hyper-focused on my every move. I consumed more alcohol than I ever have in my life. Which wasn’t a lot because it didn’t take a lot to make drunk. At some point, I started randomly laughing for a reason I can’t remember. That’s when Azriel decided it was time for me to sleep. He carried me up the stairs and laid me on the bed. After tugging of my shoes, he gently tucks me in.

“You’re not gonna take off my dress?” I slur, “I can’t sleep in this.”

He looks down at me, “I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

Pouting, I cross my arms, “I could sleep in your shirt. I didn’t buy any pajamas; I like sleeping in your shirt.”

“That’s probably a worse idea,” he says, eyes darkening at the thought.

“Why,” I whine, tugging at the dress in a futile attempt to pull it off. Az watches for a moment before turning me onto my side and unzipping the back of the dress. He tugs it down, covering me up with the blankets as he goes. When the dress is off, he turns toward the wardrobe in search of a shirt. Facing his back, I whisper, “I love you,” and fall asleep before he can respond.

part 5

@mvidaaaa sorry it took so long parts 4&5 are up

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fic #azriel imagine #Azzie #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #feyre acotar #feyre archeron #nyx acotar #rhysand #cassian #mor acotar #Morrigon #amren acotar

[nagitoandkokichioneshots]

I’ll see you again

Mod Mikan: I usually don’t write for the killing game, but I just got super inspired. This is based off of a headcanon that my lovely daughter @annastormfly shared with me a few weeks ago, and it’s also a gift to her. So um....yeah. This will most likely be my first and last time writing in the killing game AU. I, uh...got nothing else to say. Enjoy :)

Trigger warnings: Death, Suicide at the end

Kokichi knew that Miu was up to something. He had his violet-hued orbs locked into what she was doing, scanning her every movement as she started to work on the virtual world via the electronic technology that created the computer room. The ultimate supreme leader still kept his suspicions held high when she gathered everyone to the technological filled room after she was done. It took some--er, interesting--banter between the ultimate inventor her classmates, along with Monokuma and his remaining monokubs to ensure that it was safe. But what grasped everyone’s attention the most was the ‘secret of the outside’ world

“Huh? There’s a clue about the....secret of the outside world in this simulator? I.....” Anna’s voice trailed off, thinking for a second. Her eyes reverted from the large monitor in the middle of the room, back to Miu’s face, growing some slightly impatient to flat-out annoyed at her. Contemplating the possibilities, both positive and negative, that could result in this risk, the ultimate Dragon Trainer was about to make up her mind

That was...until she felt the warmth of small hand wrap around her own. With a tiny squeeze, her eyes turned to Kokichi’s amethyst colored ones. He extended his height by standing on his tippy-toes, whispering in her ear

“Don’t worry, Anna. You remember what I promised you when we got together? I’ll protect you with my life. No lies,” He smirked, making a pastel pink blush dust upon Anna cheeks. Her boyfriend could be such a pain at times, but when he really needed to tend to his lover, he always knew what to say. He was immaculate with his words and actions when the time called for it, which she absolutely adored

“Hey! Fucking liar and fucking slut! You done whispering about your next fuck session tonight?!” The strawberry blond snarled at them, making Kokichi roll his eyes and plaster an, albeit nonchalant, terrifying poker face towards her direction, earning a slightly frightened face from her

“Geez, don’t get your soaked panties in a twist. We’re coming, we’re coming,” The short-statured leader sighed, taking his seat next to his girlfriend. As he sat down and hooked up the proper wires to his helmet, he gave his girlfriend’s hand one last squeeze, gazing into her eyes for a split second, silently assuring her that everything was going to be okay. Y/N flashed a small smile in his direction as well, ready to tackle anything that happened to them--in reality or the virtual world

And with that, they were whisked away into the virtual world, followed my Miu’s commands 

Which only later proved Kokichi’s suspicions

*****************************************************************************************************

The victim was Anna, the ultimate Dragon Trainer. The body was discovered in the computer room on the fifth floor. The approximate time of death was 6:30 am. The cause of death was a blow to the back of the head 

Shuichi mumbled to himself, reading the monopad he was given. He bit his lip, frustrated at not only the horrifying sight of one of his best friends with a bleeding gash to the back of their head, but with Kokichi in a state that no one thought he was capable of

The ultimate supreme leader was kneeled down next to his lover’s corpse, bawling his eyes out. Waterfalls poured from his glossy eyes, sniffles left his chapped lips in between heavy breathes. Every time he tried to steady himself and stand back up, he was brought back down to his knees, falling into the pit of despair that was put in front of him. A single blow to his lover’s head.....

How?

How could he let this happen? 

He tried to say something when Miu decided on the investigation groups. He knew it was a bad idea to let her call the shots, despite her creating this world. But the ultimate inventor was as stubborn as...well, as she always perceived herself 

Was it...his fault he couldn’t stop her head-strong attitude? 

“Anna.....” Kokichi started to choke out, raising a surprised look on Shuichi’s face. He ran towards Kokichi, about to comfort and lift him back on his feet, but the shorter boy just snubbed him away. He carried on with his monologue, but really, was speaking and begging for an apology from the only person he was sure he could trust 

“Anna....I...I said I would....” 

Another sob escaped from his lips

“I said I would protect you......Wh-what kind of leader am I?” He fumbled along his words, containing no energy--or motivation--to even lie in this situation. Shuichi hesitated, before placing a gentle hand on Kokichi’s shoulder. He looked up from his hunched over form, looking at the ultimate detective with a tear-strained face

Not even Kokichi could lie about the despair he felt

“Kokichi.....we need to start investigating. After that, we’ll start the trial and bring Anna’s killer to justice,” Shuichi said, trying to assure Kokichi. The purple haired male just nodded, still not standing up and composing himself after his sob session

“Who....who did this?” Was all he asked. Shuichi frowned, knowing Kokichi needed to clear answer to who brought this upon the only person that was the beacon of light in his broken life 

“Koki--”

“WHO DID THIS?!” This time, it came out as a demanding screech, allowing a surge of energy to rush through his small body, enabling him to finally stand up. Before Shuichi could say anything more, Kokichi took a deep breath, looking Shuichi’s in the eyes one last time

“I’ll.....join you later,” 

The dark-haired detective nodded, pausing before heading off to question Kaito about his sudden disappearance during the investigation. Kokichi turned back to his girlfriend’s dead body, pressing a kiss on her forehead. His body was all dry from tears to cry, but he choked out another sniffle, running a lanky hand through her hair. Below a whisper, he made one last promise to her 

“Don’t worry, my queen......we’ll bring your killer to justice. And after that, you won’t have to wait long for me. I promise,” 

*****************************************************************************************************

“The murder must’ve took place during the investigation. It was Anna, Kaito, Kiibo, Kokichi, me, and Tsumugi investigating the mansion area,” Shuichi started, covering his hand with his mouth, as if he was trying his best to recall the events of the scene. Shuichi fixated his eyes onto Miu who remained...awfully quiet during the trial

“Miu, if I recall, you....” Shuichi grimaced at the obvious action of her flipping the sign off the bridge, making it fall into the water on purpose. “...Accidentally” he continued to speak “Accidentally dropped the sign board down the river stream, yes?” Shuichi asked her, earning a small nod from her

“Y-Yeah! So what?! That only means it couldn’t possibly be me! After all, I was investigating the chapel with everyone else!” She snapped, making Shuichi fall silent for a while. Before he could open his mouth to further press the matter, Kokichi interrupted him with a harsh tone

“That cum-soaked urinal cake is toooottallly lying!” He pointed out, shooting daggers in Miu’s direction. She flinched, stuttering and falling upon her words, failing at forming a sentence to squeak out. Shuichi turned to Kokichi with a confused expression painted on his face, which made Kokichi bark an abrupt explanation to his seldom grave attitude 

“Kokichi? Wh--” 

“I’m not here to play games during this trial. One of you killed my precious Anna. I know exactly who, too. To save you to the boring and pointless mystery-solving shit, I’ll be frank. No lies,” Kokichi cleared his voice, his intense, malicious glance never ripping away from Miu’s face. With that, Kokichi cleared everyone from being executed, except for the killer that brought his lover to hell. The one who ripped the only good thing that happened to Kokichi

“Anna’s killer is Miu Iruma,”  

*****************************************************************************************************

“Ding! Ding! Ding! You guys got it right again! Wow, four times in a row!” Monokuma cheered, as Miu was panicking and quivering in fear. She was sweating bullets, too frightened to even glare at Kokichi and scream at him for calling her out

“I-I-I....” Miu stumbled once again with her words, trying to say something to at least die with peace from everyone. Kokichi didn’t bother looking at Miu’s direction, hiding his already sobbing face in Gonta’s chest. The ultimate Entomologist hugged him gently, patting his back

“Gonta very sorry, Kokichi. Anna in better place now,” The large gentleman tried his best to comfort the supreme leader, only to gain more wails and genuine cries from him. Himiko watched Kokichi’s whole break down, shocked at the sincerity he showed from his cries. She frowned, looking down, flashbacks and agonizing memories flooding her own brain 

Pondering over her own crying after Tenko and Angie’s trial 

“So he can cry real tears....” The ultimate mage slurred out, almost feeling a seed of pity bloom inside of her, watching Kokichi seek more warmth from Gonta’s embrace. Shuichi turned to Miu, a glare glossed over his face, determined to find her reason

“Why did you do it, Miu? Please...at the end...at least give us a reason,” He stated flatly, desiring some sort of answer that would--hopefully--display a human side of Miu. Maybe her reasoning wasn’t shallow?

Wrong

“B-But you don’t understand! The world needs my genius! P-Please!” Miu howled, balling her hands into fist, weakly shaking them. Tears left her face, as they streamed and strained down her cheeks. She looked at Shuichi, her blue orbs pawning at Kokichi’s breakdown next, and finally towards Monokuma. Getting down on her knees, the same way she was when persuading everyone to try out her virtual world simulator, she was ready to beg for her life

“PLEASE! PLEASE MONOKUMA! I DON’T WANNA DIE! PLEASE, I NEED TO GET OUT HERE!!!!” She sniveled obnoxiously, knowing damn well that she wasn’t going to be let off the hook so easily. Of course, the dual-colored bear just laughed at her pathetic nature, his mind not changing

“And waste such an elaborate punishment I have prepared for you? Wow, so insensitive of you. Not thinking about how much thought I put into your very own execution,” Monokuma placed a fake facade of sadness radiating from his atmosphere

“So rude of you not to think of Daddy!” Monophanie huffed and turned to her brother, whom was....er--still suffering from memory loss. Monotaro gasped and whimpered at his mother still shaking like a lost puppy

“Mommy! Don’t go!” He roared, just sending Miu into another breakdown. Before she could even speak, another desperate plea for mercy about to leave her hoarse throat, she felt a tap on her shoulder. The ultimate inventor whipped her head, looking down at Kokichi. Like hers, his face was stained with tear stains and even more red from his immense breakdown. But his words was a cool and torturing contrast to what he was about to spew out next 

“Now you get to feel the pain you caused Anna.....only this time....I hope Monokuma triples it,” 

Monokuma took Kokichi’s final words as a signal to finally conclude the fourth class trial

“Now, I prepared a special punishment for Miu Iruma, the ultimate inventor! It’s punishment time!!!!” 

*****************************************************************************************************

Kokichi didn’t get much sleep that night. He lied down, staring at the ceiling of his room. He frowned, feeling the emptiness of the bed that he sometimes shared with Anna. All those nights he got paranoid and have nightmares about the killing game. The one person he trusted with his life....the one person he, on layman terms “loved”

Gone

Ripped away from him

“What’s the point of living anymore....” He mumbled to himself. Having no energy to even crawl out of bed. He entrusted Anna with his plans to end this killing game. To win it, and take her with him. But what was the point of that now? He saw the only good in his world lying lifelessly on the floor of the computer room

“Everyone hates me......the one person that didn’t is gone.....” 

Kokichi felt tired, but couldn’t sleep. It was excruciating. Go to sleep, dammit! He told himself, slapping his cheeks to knock some pointless sense into him. 

Useless.....

But there was one thing he can do

Kokichi yanked off the bedsheets from the mattress, wrapping them into the form of a noose. Tying one end around his neck, he looped the other one from his ceiling and tied off the end to make it tight. Stepping onto the bed with a lovestruck, yet twisted smile on his face, a final verbal message escaped his mouth 

“I’ll see you very soon, my queen...”

*****************************************************************************************************

“A body has been discovered! Everyone, please report to Kokichi Ouma’s dorm!” 

#danganronpa kokichi #kokichi oma #kokichi oma x reader #kokichi oma x y/n #Kokichi oma drabble #Kokichi oma oneshot #kokichi #DRV3 #drv3 x reader #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #danganronpa x y/n #danganronpa oneshot #danganronpa killing harmony #Kokichi x reader

[the-jade-cross]

Journey to Middle Earth - Chapter 15

Summary – What if JRR Tolkien never gave Thorin a love story… because the person that was meant to be Thorin’s was not yet born when he wrote the Hobbit? Sara journeys from her world to Middle Earth after an accident, with a mission. To change something about the Hobbit story… but she is not sure what. What she does not know is that while trying to prevent something from happening, something new might arise between her and the dwarf prince….even if it is not on the agenda!

Warnings – None, no explicit scenes, some kissing, violence, frightening creatures, mentions of abuse.

Pairings – Thorin Oakenshield x OC

Sara was completely out of breath when she reached the bottom of Ravenhill. She could hear the battle roaring behind her and above her, Azog’s voice calling out orders to his men on what to signal to the troops. Sara knew that because it took her thirty full minutes to get this far, she only had about ten extra to get in position before Thorin arrived with backup. Reaching to her bag, she drew out her pistol and made sure it was fully loaded with the remaining three bullets before sticking it into her belt against her back. Next, she drew out the extra jacket she brought in case it was cold and golly it was! Pulling it on, she buttoned it up and then rolled her bag up in a ball, placing it behind a large rock and covering it with stones so it wouldn’t get in her way.

She then proceeded to quietly climb the steep incline to the frozen river and lake above, keeping her eyes and ears open for orcs or Azog. She had just slipped to the ledge that looked up at the top of Ravenhill when she heard a battle cry below and the sound of yak hooves… Thorin, Fili, Kili and Dwalin!

She sighed and ran her fingers over her covered stomach fondly, “It’s okay babies. Daddy will be here soon, and everything will be okay.”

“Sara?” a voice asked from behind her.

Sara looked over her shoulder and all the broken pieces of her heart reassembled and healed back together at the sight behind her. There stood Thorin, wearing just his pants, boots and the navy blue jacket Bard had given him. Sara could see the little stitch marks where Nori had woven mithril into the fabric. Good!

Thorin’s face was one of shock, surprise, joy, pain, hope and smitten adoring love. He was panting slightly and Orcrist was black with blood but he was unharmed. Sara couldn’t even breathe out his name but instead let out what sounded like a mixture of a cry and a gasp. Spinning around, she rushed to Thorin and the dwarf had just enough time to open his arms when Sara flung herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck, hands weaving into his black hair, nose buried in his neck and chest shaking with joyous sobs. Thorin’s strong arms encased her and his face found refuge buried in her red curls.

“I thought I lost you,” Thorin choked, clutching her close.

“You never lost me… I was just waiting for you to throw down your crown and find yourself,” Sara said, pulling away to cup his cheeks, watching as tears sprung to his blue eyes and trickled down his cheeks.

“How did you know I threw…” Thorin began but then smiled, “Oh right… you already knew.”

“Well I was still afraid,” Sara admitted, feeling tears prick her eyes, “I was afraid you wouldn’t overcome it like in the story… I thought… I thought I had failed and…”

Thorin cut off her tearful rantings, grasping her cheeks, “no, no, no! If anything, I failed you both as a husband and as the father of our children. I should have listened and been stronger for you. I love you so much and I failed you. Forgive me…”

Sara let out a sobbing laugh before crushing her lips to his, their tears mingling upon their lips as they caught up on all that they had been deprived of for days.

“Are you…” Thorin whispered, almost nervously, “Are you really with child?”

Sara smiled and taking Thorin’s large hands, placed them over her rounded womb, “not with child… but with children.”

Thorin’s head snapped up to look at her and his eyes glowed while a huge grin broke across his face, “Two of them!?”

Sara barely nodded before Thorin swept her up into his arms while he showered her lips, neck, nose, cheeks and forehead with kisses. Finally setting her down, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, he held her gently by the waist.

“Aralime,” he muttered against her lips, sending butterflies through her heart. “You are too good for me.”

Sara went to reply when she felt a small jolt in her gut and she looked at Thorin worried, “Where are Fili and Kili!?”

“They are fine,” Thorin assured her gently, “I sent them to scout the tower for signs of the orcs. Blasted Azog disappeared.”

Sara swallowed but knew she couldn’t tell Thorin anything when suddenly she heard Dwalin rushing toward them with Bilbo on his tail.

“Thorin! Sara! Azog is here!” Dwalin cried.

“Bolg has a second army coming from the North, they will be here in seconds,” Bilbo panted. “We will be trapped here.”

Thorin’s eyes widened, “He wanted us here… this is a trap…”

Then it came… the sound of pounding drums that only aided in making Sara’s heart drop… oh no…

The four of then turned to the tower, only to see the glow of torches as Azog walked to the edge with a few orcs flanking him, a young dwarf grasped in his grip. Sara was not prepared for what she saw… it wasn’t Fili…. But Kili!

“No….” she gasped. Where was Fili!? What happened to change this!?

Azog began to speak in black speech before lifting Kili to hold him over the edge of the cliff. While the three males gasped and stared in horror at the scene, Sara crouched down behind Thorin’s figure and slipped her gun from her belt before lifting it and aiming… she needed to make a perfect shot that would not hit Kili but strike the Magnesium beneath Azog… a little to the left… up… avoid Kili’s flailing legs… click the safety off… gun loaded and ready? Yes… now… fire…

A loud crack sounded as Sara pulled the trigger… then silence…

*******

That silence… It was the silence you endured when waiting for someone to answer the phone… that silence you feel when you load your mail to see if you got that email… waiting for your teacher to tell you if you passed or failed the test. That silence when you think you just failed your greatest purpose and all eyes were on you… then that crackle, the spark that signals that not all hope is lost.

Sara smiled, watching Azog who looked around for the source of the noise, unaware that the noise was beneath his feet. When the magnesium erupted beneath him, all the orcs began to scramble away but Azog wouldn’t let go of Kili’s coat! Sara lifted the gun again and aimed, biting her lip. For any one listening, guide my hand. The second shot sounded, directly followed by Azog rearing in pain as he clutched his hand which was now bleeding horribly. He released Kili and the dark haired dwarf plummeted toward the rocks below. Sara’s heart stopped beating for a full second when Kili’s body made contact with the ground… but his body barely touched it when the muscovite gave way and there was a splash and the sound of said dwarf spluttering water from his mouth.

Sara beamed when Kili’s head emerged from the hole soaking wet. She saw Bilbo, Dwalin and Thorin staring at her in stunned silence.

“That’s one down,” Sara observed, pocketing her pistol.

When Bilbo rushed over to Sara, telling her how brilliant she had bene, Thorin looked to the tower where Azog was disappearing into the shadows.

“Fili!” Thorin yelled, realizing he couldn’t see his second nephew!

As he ran across the ice toward the tower, Dwalin called after him and followed.

Sara turned to Bilbo and placed her dagger in his hand, “Stay safe,” she said before running off.

“Oh, great. Just leave the hobbit here…” Bilbo mumbled.

*********

Find Fili, find Fili… Find Fili; Sara kept repeating it over and over in her mind as she wove through the hallways of the tower. Luckily she had not encountered many orcs and the ones she had got a good taste of dual sword steel. She needed to find Fili… and Kili! Knowing them, they hadn’t stayed put wherever they were!

“Fili!” she called, “Kili!”

Her voice echoed off the stone walls and she got no reply. Running around two corners, she went to call their names again but another feminine voice beat her to it.

“Kili!” which was followed by the unmistakable voice of Kili… oh no…. Bolg time!

Sara sprinted blindly toward the voices, hoping beyond hope that when she got there, Tauriel was not on the ground and Bolg’s pike was not through Kili’s chest.

Crap! She should have told Nori to weave Mithril into Kili’s clothes too! Please oh please let this not happen! She could barely see the ground beneath her feet as she sprinted through the tower, tears streaming down her face, red curls in her eyes and her swords in her hands, black with orc blood.

When she came stumbling down the flight of stairs, she saw Kili jump from a ledge onto Bolg’s shoulders but the dwarf missed Bolg’s head! She was in time. Sara took in the scene. She saw Tauriel on the ground holding her leg which was definitely sprained and Fili was crouching over her, sword in hand and ready to pounce to his brother’s rescue only for Bolg to throw Kili from his back and straight into the blond dwarf who cushioned his brother’s fall.

Both boys scrambled to their feet and reached for their weapons when Sara called out, making herself known.

“Hey! You witless worm!” she could resist using Thorin’s famous line he had spoken to Smaug in Erabor not three days prior.

Bolg’s huge figure turned to the girl who stood under the archway, opposite the two dwarves and the she-elf, Bolg smack dab between the two parties. The orc grumbled with joy at the prospect of another kill.

“I don’t suppose you know English?” Sara inquired.

As Bolg approached her, she looked at Fili and Kili who were watching with saucers as eyes, Tauriel confused by Sara’s presence but also horrified at the dangerous situation she was in.

“Trip him,” Sara muttered to the three, ignoring the approaching figure of Bolg.

“What?” Fili shouted in horror when he saw how close Bolg was to Sara.

Sara slowly sheathed her two sords before touching the pistol hidden in the back of her belt beneath her tunic. “Trip him,” she said again with a firm confident voice.

When Fili and Kili saw the small black contraption in Sara’s hands, they caught on and while Kili pulled the immobilized Tauriel out of the way, Fili got up and stuck out his foot, readying himself. Sara saw that they understood but when she went to meet the black eyes of the giant orc, all she saw was white… a searing pain clutching her chest and the air getting caught in her lungs. She heard the blood curdling screams of Fili and Kili, the sound of Bolg grunting in satisfaction… and then the click of the safety button, the pressure of the trigger beneath her finger and then the power of the gun went off with a bang. She heard the distant yell from Bolg and then the stumbling of feet, the sound of a voice plummeting over the edge… and then the hard ground beneath her back and then darkness overtook the white light.

********

Thorin gasped. How was this even possible? He had been pinned underneath Azog’s huge body, Orcrist being the only thing between his chest and Azog’s pike. He had chosen to do the last thing from sanity and slipped Orcrist away, allowing Azog to pierce him but using the now free elven blade to bury into Azog’s heart. Thorin had rolled over so Azog’s limp body was beneath him as he drove Orcrist deeper. As he watched the orc’s breathing falter, he awaited the warm feeling of his blood seeping through his clothes… but none came.

Rising to his feet, he touched his abdomen but the navy-blue tunic he wore was untouched. No pierce hole… not even a scratch! Was Azog’s blade blunt? No… he checked it and the blade was razor sharp. He should have been dead… the pike could have skewered a wild boar! (Hehe, sound familiar;)) Thorin continued to pat himself, expecting a wound to appear when he noticed that the seams of the tunic had been torn and new thread had sewn it back together. Grabbing the hems, he ripped it and he saw what lay between the two thin layers of the coat… Mithril! But how? It was not by coincidence that the mithril ended up there, protecting him from death! Wait… Sara!

She knew! She… did that mean… he would have died then? She knew it… and she saved him… Thorin’s one-sided conversation with himself was brought to an end when a yell of misery echoed through the whole of Ravenhill… that was Fili!

Grabbing Orcrist, Thorin sprinted across the ice and up the stairs toward the sound. When he found his eldest nephew, he feared that he would find Kili down and wounded but what he saw made his heart stop and his breathing falter. There stood the red-haired she-elf, holding a thrashing Kili back as the young dwarf fought against her arms to get to Fili, tears streaming down his face and a scream ripping from his throat in a frenzy of agony. Kneeling nearby was Fili who had his head bowed, tears soaking his short beard, his shoulders heaving with sobs. And there, lying on the cold stone with her limp head in his lap was Sara. Her red curls plastered from sweat to her face, one hand limp at her side and the other wrapped limply but protectively around her abdomen. Her swords were sheathed and lying on the ground was her pistol, still smoking from the shot.

Thorin let out an ear piercing cry before running to them, falling to his knees next to Fili who allowed his uncle to pull Sara from his arms. Thorin cradled her body to him desperately as he rocked back and forth soothingly.

“no! This cannot happen… please… please don’t leave me… please…”

Sara did not respond, and her piercing blue orbs remained closed as Tauriel finally released the frantic Kili who fell into Fili’s empty arms in a fit of heart wrenching sobs.

“Thorin!” A voice cried as several figures approached.

A small figure sprinted over and fell on the other side of Sara, touching her limp hand and Thorin barely noticed the red curls of Ryder as he stared at his sister, too shocked to speak.

Bilbo rushed over next, clutching something in his arms, “I found this hidden under some rocks… it is Sara’s bag.”

Hastily taking the bag from the hobbit, Fili began to search for something that might rouse the girl from her slumber. Sara always did have unusual things in her bag that Fili did not understand but things that managed to do amazing things.

“it is her notebook,” Fili muttered as he drew out the single content of the bag.

Flipping through the pages, he paused near the end and looked at the others in shock.

“Thorin… look…” he whispered.

Thorin barely looked but when he did, his eyes widened. The sketch was of him, Fili and Kili all lying on tables… dead…

“Sara told us that Thorin was in some sort of danger,” Dwalin explained, having been there the whole time with Gandalf, Omar, Axel and some others but no one had noticed. “She told Nori to sew mithril into your coat Thorin.”

Thorin brushed his fingers over the material of his coat, “It saved me from dying…”

“And when Azog had me dangling over the ledge,” Kili sniffled. “If she hadn’t… done whatever it was she did… I might have died… and Fili…”

The two brothers looked at each other in shock which did not go unnoticed by Thorin.

“Boys… what happened?” he demanded when the two went silent.

“If Sara had not gotten Bolg’s attention and shot him… one of us… or all of us could have been dead right now,” Fili muttered.

“She did it on purpose… she let Bolg kill her… to save us… just like how she shot Azog’s hand and made me fall into the water,” Kili murmured, tears pooling in his blue eyes again.

“Why?” Thorin muttered, pulling Sara’s body closer to his chest. “Why would you do that Sara?”

“Because she had a plan,” a voice observed.

All eyes lifted and Thorin and Dwalin stared in shock and disbelief as a small figure stepped from behind Gandalf. For a moment, they did not know him till they saw the eyes, the nose and the tattoos…

“Father?” Thorin breathed.

Thrain smiled as he dropped to his knees next to his crying son and pulled Thorin into a tight embrace. When he pulled away, he looked at the girl in his son’s protective arms and smiled.

“She is a clever one Thorin. She knew of my impending death and warned Gandalf before he found me in Dol Goldur. If it had not been for her planning, I would be dead. Just like she had planned to save you my son from the beginning, she knew how she would go about it. She had mithril sewn into your clothes for a reason and that was to protect you. She reserved enough shots in that contraption of hers for a reason… to rescue my grandsons. Everything she has done has a reason.”

“Then why did she give her life so willingly?” Thorin sobbed, his voice cracking and husky from tears.

Thrain smirked, “She didn’t. That is no ordinary tunic she wears, my son.”

Thorin frowned in confusion before looking at the rough brown fabric that covered Sara’s body… he looked to his father and Gandalf who were both smiling and then he spied Omar and Axel nearby, proud smiles on their faces.

The dwarf turned his eyes back on Sara and saw that her face was not void of color, her lips parted in barely visible breathing, no blood pooling around her…

“Dragon scales.”

*******

Everything was hazy when Sara came to, groaning from the pain in her chest that felt painfully similar to cardiac arrest and heart burn, even though Sara had no idea what the former felt like.

She went to sit up when she suddenly felt an arm slip behind her shoulders to support her while another hand grasped one of hers gently but firmly.

“Sweetheart, are you feeling alright?” a deep gently baritone voice asked.

Sara turned her head and the haziness faded to reveal the concerned face of one Thorin Oakenshield who sat beside her.

“Thorin?” Sara whispered, “You’re okay! You’re alive!” she cried joyfully, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his chest.

Tears pricked Thorin’s eyes at the joy in his wife’s voice, “All thanks to you darling. Fili and Kili are fine too. They are helping clear the battleground.”

Sara’s shoulders slumped in relief at those words, leaning her head against Thorin’s neck before her hands crept to her womb.

“The babies are fine,” Thorin assured her, “Oin checked you.”

Sara went to answer when a little kick against her palm made her gasp with happiness. Reaching over she took Thorin’s hand and pressed it to her belly just as another kick came. Thorin’s face split into a huge grin and he bent down to press a kiss to Sara’s belly before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, afraid that she would break like China if he did anything more than that. Their loving moment was interrupted when the door flew open and in rushed the whole, and I mean whole, company plus Gandalf, Ryder, Omar, Axel and a strangely familiar dwarf.

Fili and Kili were at the other side of her bed in an instant, asking her if she was alright, sore or tired but Dwalin quickly shushed the two mother hens. Next, Omar and Ryder hopped onto the end of her bed to give her quick hugs and patted her over to make sure Oin didn’t miss a wound or bruise.

“I’m alright,” Sara assured everyone. “So happy to see you all safe and unharmed… wait… Lord Thrain!?”

The older dwarf walked toward Sara who moved to sit on the side of the bed, Thorin not letting her move further. Thrain smiled at the girl and took the hand that Thorin was not holding possessively.

“Thank you so much my dear for protecting my family. Not just rescuing my son and grandsons but loving them and giving Thorin a chance to live a happy life. If it were not for you, half of us would not be standing here today.”

Sara smiled past her tears, “I was afraid the whole time… afraid that I would fail and all of you would die…”

Thrain smiled and when he spied the smitten look his son was giving Sara, he turned to the others with a knowing look. “We should let her rest up for the feast tonight.” He said.

Fili and Kili went to object when Thrain gave them a warning look and if they thought Thorin was scary, Thrain was terror itself. The door had barley shut behind their retreating forms when Thorin turned to Sara and cupping her face in both hands, pressed a heated, hungry kiss to her lips. The girl let out a squeak in surprise before melting into Thorin’s loving kiss.

When they parted, Sara’s eyes were glazed over, her cheeks rosy and her lip swollen. Thorin playfully kissed her nose before looking at her lovingly.

“Mahal woman. What did I do to deserve you?” he mumbled.

Sara smiled and booped his nose with hers, “You gave me a fairy tale love story. One that I never thought I could have. That is how,” she whispered.

Thorin groaned and buried his face in her neck, muttering something about words being seductive. He lifted his head and sighed.

“I should get myself under control before I do something explicit in front of Mason.”

Sara looked to where Thorin had nodded to see that he had procured a little bed in the corner of their bed chamber where the large black dog lay curled up, snoring happily.

“He refused to leave your side,” Thorin whispered playfully. “I am starting to think between him and the twins, I will have some daunting competition for your attentions.”

*********

“Are you sure you cannot stay?” Thorin pleaded with Bilbo as he walked with him to the front gate, “Not even till the twins arrive?”

Bilbo smiled, “I would love to but if I stay much longer, people may begin to think I am dead!”

Thorin chuckled when suddenly Fili and Kili sprinted over, calling their uncle’s name. Thorin began to run but Kili held up his hands in surrender, “Easy there uncle. It is not the babies. Sara is not in labor. We just came to say goodbye to Bilbo.”

Thorin relaxed and Bilbo chuckled. Ever since Oin said that Sara would go into labor any minute, Thorin had been on edge. If someone called his name or even shouted, he began to sprint to the royal chambers.

This made for several false alarms every day for the past three days. Kili almost pranked Thorin and told him that Sara was in labor but luckily Fili found out and called his brother’s bluff before it went off.

Bilbo was just about to bid them farewell when Ori came running their way, eyes wide and face split with a grin.

“Thorin! It is time! The twins are coming!”

Thorin hesitated for a moment, waiting for someone to stop him but when no one did, he rushed back inside at full speed.

“Well I guess I can stay a while longer,” Bilbo muttered.

When Thorin found his father, Dwalin, Balin, Gandalf, Axel, Omar and Ryder standing outside he and Sara’s chambers, he listened for the screams… Oin had told him that Sara would probably scream and cry… but it was silent… another false alarm?

But then the door opened and Oin stepped out with a huge smile on his face.

“Congratulations Thorin! They are here!” the old dwarf said.

Thorin blindly walked into the room alone to find Sara sitting propped up by pillows on their large bed. Never had she looked so beautiful with her face sweaty, hair a mess and nestled in her arms were two tiny bundles. Walking over slowly, Thorin stared down in wonder at the two round faces that lay sleeping against Sara’s bosom. Their little round cheeks were puffy and red but smooth and healthy. Adorable buttons noses and long lashes that brushed their cheeks. One had jet black hair while the other had hair as red as roses.

“Thorin, meet Soren and Thora,” Sara whispered, smiling.

Thorin slowly sat down next to her and wrapped his arms around her and the twins, pressing a kiss to Sara’s brow before slowly bending down to kiss the twin’s foreheads one at a time.

He ran his finger over his son’s fire red hair and then touched his daughter’s rosy cheek, feeling tears prick his eyes when Thora wiggled at the feeling and grabbed his finger with her tiny little fingers.

“Thank you,” he whispered to Sara, “Thank you for loving me and rescuing me from everything.”

Sara beamed and kissed his lips, “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, doing anything with anyone but you.”

********

Epilogue – 5 years later.

“No, no, over to the left,” Thorin instructed the men as he and Dwalin tried to explain to the constructing dwarves the order in which they had to rebuild Erabor. The front of Erabor had been finished about a year ago and all the gold and gems had been put in crates, multiple crates sent to each suffering town, village, or city before the remaining were stored away in vaults in the deepest chambers of Erabor, only to be brought out if the need of extra coin ever arose.

“It will be grand again Thorin,” Dwalin beamed with pride as he watched the dwarves move away the broken pillars (a curtesy of the deceased Smaug) and began to decide how to go about putting up new ones. “Just like the old days.”

Thorin smiled and nodded as he looked around. Already the halls of Erabor were filled with golden light and the rustic grey color of the interior of Erabor had returned to its beautiful bluish green marble look after much cleaning and construction. The sounds of laughter, yells and voices filled every nook and cranny of the kingdom and Thorin was proud to realize that a part of the noise was thanks to him and Sara.

“Papa!” a small but bright voice cried.

Thorin immediately spun around with a huge grin on his face as he bent to one knee and held out both arms. The little bundle of joy and red curls leapt into Thorin’s waiting arms and wrapped her plump little 3-year-old arms around Thorin’s neck before planting a wet slobbery smooch to his cheek, cringing at the feel of his beard on her face. (Sora below)

“What are you up to pumpkin?” Thorin asked as he planted the little girl on his hip, her arms still tightly around her neck.

Dwalin smiled at the sweet exchange and waved at his little goddaughter. Sora’s fire red curls fell all the way to her waist which, considering that she was barely two feet tall, was not that long. Her eyes were so blue that at first everyone feared that something was wrong with her but there was absolutely nothing wrong with spunky little Sora other than her infatuation with her father, giving her the title: Papa’s Princess.

“Thain was pulling my hair so mummy told me to play somewhere else,” Sora said, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout.

Thorin chuckled and kissed her rosy cheek, “Thain is only two years old pumpkin. He doesn’t know that it hurts when he pulls your hair. Is Thea asleep?”

Sora nodded, “Sorin got her to sleep but she threw a fit when Thana tried.”

(Sorin below)

The youngest Oakenshield, little one year old Thea had a habit of being particular about who put her down for a nap and everyone soon realized that her favorite rocker was 5-year-old Sorin which honestly was a saving grace because quiet, gentle Sorin took after his mother and preferred to help with the little ones while Thana was a perfect replica of Thorin, spunky and hating to be indoors. With a sixth child on the way, Sara was able to take some rest with Sorin helping with the little ones and Thorin had to worry less when he left every morning to his duties.

“Papa,” Sora whispered, pulling Thorin’s attention back to her, patting both of his cheeks with her little hands. “Do you think mummy is mad at me?”

Thorin furrowed his brow, “Of course not pumpkin! Mummy is never angry with you.”

Sora shifted on her father’s hip, “But she was crying and frowning all day today…”

This caused both Dwalin and Thorin to stop. After having five children, you would think that a mother would go crazy since her eldest were only five years old but not Sara. She was full of energy and she never tired of caring for her children that she saw as pure miracles. She never snapped or got angry with her children and whenever one of the kids had done something really bad like hit their sibling, she sent them to Thorin because she knew he would discipline them instead of just giving them a gentle reprimanding like she would.

Thorin looked at Dwalin who nodded. There was only one explanation for Sara’s attitude… pregnancy hormones. Dwalin reached out his hands to little Sora who leapt into her Uncle Dwalin’s arms.

“Go take care of the queen,” Dwalin said with a smirk. “We cannot have a replay of Thain’s pregnancy.” (Thea below)

Thorin smiled. When Sara was pregnant with Thain, the little boy was so small that she barley started showing until the final month which worried Sara, fearing that perhaps she had miscarried the baby and was carrying a dead baby around in her womb. One day when baby Thain was asleep in her womb, Sara had broken down in sobs because she couldn’t feel him move and Thorin had found her sobbing in the bathroom and he spent the rest of the day in bed comforting her. Luckily, the next morning Thain decided to announce his presence by jabbing his mother in the gut with his foot which erased that fear but after that, Thorin always made sure he was ready to run back to the royal chambers if Sara ever needed him.

When Thorin entered the royal chambers, he saw Sorin gently carrying a sleeping Thea to the adjoining room where little Thain was probably sleeping for his nap. He gave his eldest son a questionable look and Sorin nodded towards Thana’s room, silently answering his father’s question about where Thana was. Finding that Sara was alone in their chambers. (Thana below)

Thorin slipped silently into the room to find that the four poster bed sheets had been overturned and messed up from the children playing on it. Wooden blocks and little wooden animals were scattered on the floor. Sitting by the fading fire was Sara, rocking back and forth slowly in the rocking chair. Thorin knew that look… she was tired. He moved to close the door when he heard a faint sniffle and froze in his movements. Looking back at his wife who had her back toward him, he saw her reach up to wipe her cheeks… crying… that meant only one thing and Thorin found himself smiling at the thought despite himself.

Closing the door, he walked over and bending down, pressed a kiss to his wife’s bare neck, eliciting a warm sigh from her. Sara turned her head, eyes closed in an effort to come into some form of contact with her husband that she had not heard return.

“You’re early,” she whispered when her nose found his and she rubbed her cheek across his like a baby seeking skin contact with its mother.

Thorin smiled as he wrapped his arms around Sara from behind and continued to press kisses to her neck and jaw, rubbing her arms with his hands. “Sora told me that you were feeling down. Miss me much?”

Sara chuckled softly before turning to look him square in the eyes, showing that her blue orbs were pooling with unshed tears. “How do you manage to know exactly what is wrong with me?”

Thorin smiled before bending down to press a warm kiss to her lips that were swollen from her biting them to hold back tears. “You cry silently whenever you miss me or are lonely.”

Sara sighed in defeat but Thorin beamed, coming to stand before her. Bending down, he slipped one arm under her legs while wrapping the other around her waist and picking her up slowly and gently, minding the rather large bump of her womb. Sara wrapped her arms around his neck and silently allowed him to carry her to the bed where he placed her down before crawling in next to her. This was their routine whenever one of them or both of them needed some physical contact to ward off the stress and anxiety. Sara rolled onto her side and Thorin shuffled till his front was flush against her back, slipping a leg between hers before wrapping his arms around her expanded abdomen and burying his face in her hair.

“I miss you too,” Thorin whispered as he felt himself drift off to sleep. “Every day. The moment I walk out that door I fight with myself to not turn around and go back in, calling for a sick day.”

At first, he thought Sara had fallen asleep when she didn’t reply but then he felt her fingers touch his before turning to kiss his hairy cheek. “I love you, big bear.”

Thorin smiled at her pet name before returning the kiss but this time to her lips. “Took the words right out of my mouth Pixie.”

“You know I hate that nickname,” Sara muttered into the pillow.

“What can I say?” Thorin chuckled. “You are petite and cute like a little pixie fairy… or we could go back to honeybun.”

“Nope,” Sara observed. “Pixie is fine. Honeybun sounds like you are referring to by bum.”

Thorin stifled a laugh which came out as a chuckle before he held Sara closer, both of them falling into a peaceful sleep.

Thorin’s eyes cracked open and he looked around. Oh… it was a dream. It was so real that he felt like he really was back there a few months prior to that evening when he comforted his heavily pregnant wife. Rolling over, he saw that all five of his children had made their way into the bed he and Sara shared, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Sora lay directly behind him, having probably clutched his body in her sleep. Her cheek pressed into one of her hands and her lips parted as she snored softly. On the other side of her lay Thana who had her back to her twin whose arms were wrapped protectively around little Thea who had her thumb dangling from her mouth where she had fallen asleep sucking her thumb, her free hand holding onto Sorin’s fingers. Thain was lying in the empty space that Sara usually occupied, probably had been sleeping up against his mother but when she had left the bed, he had rolled into the extra space, spread out like a star fish and snoring louder than all his siblings combined. Definitely a trait he picked up from his uncles.

Slowly getting up and pushing the blankets aside, he spied a faint light in the bathroom, but the door was cracked so Sara wasn’t using the toilet.

He rose to his feet and didn’t bother to put anything on over his pants or bare upper body. Mason who lay at the end of the bed perked his ears at his master’s movement but Thorin put a finger to his lips and then pointed to the children. Mason got the hint and crawled over to take Thorin’s place on the bed, nuzzling the sleeping Sora with his snout.

Thorin crept to the washroom and peered inside to see Sara staring at herself in the full body mirror. Her hands were hanging by her sides before she reached up and ran her fingers over the roundness of her abdomen. Thorin saw her shoulders drop and she sighed softly.

“Amralime,” Thorin whispered, stepping in.

Sara looked at him over her shoulder and from the puffy look of her face, Thorin realized that she had been crying.

“Hey,” Thorin cooed, walking over to her and wrapping her arms around her, drawing her against his chest. “What is wrong love?”

Sara didn’t not look him in the eye but stared out at the huge bump that was wedged between them, “I’m fat.”

Thorin’s eyes widened before a smirk flashed across his face, “You are not fat darling. You’re round with our child.”

Sara remained silent and the smirk faded to a frown on Thorin’s face. Pulling away, he cupped her face and lifted her eyes to look at him. “Darling, if you do not want to have any more children after this…”

Sara shook her head violently, “No Thorin! It’s not that. I want to have as many children as possible with you… I love being pregnant and the morning sicknesses, cravings and labor pains are so worth it. I just… I just never feel pretty when I am pregnant…”

Silence enveloped the two before Sara shivered as Thorin untied the tie of her nightgown and let the silk pool at her feet, leaving her stark naked except for her underwear. She had stopped wearing a bra because her swollen breasts felt constricted and painful when she did. She moved to cover her ample bosoms but Thorin grasped her hands in his and looked her dead in the eyes.

Just looking at the expression on Thorin’s face made Sara’s whole body heat up even though the room was chilly, and she bit her lip when Thorin’s hands trailed from her palms to her elbows. Slowly he began to walk around her as if stalking his prey, eyes drinking in her ample curves that had only increased with her numerous pregnancies. Sara felt Thorin’s fingers briefly touch her thighs and backside before trailing up her spine to her neck, over her shoulder and then down the center of her front, between her bosoms, over her bump…

Sara stared at him speechless as he knelt down in front of her, blue meeting blue as he held her gaze. When he dropped to his knee in front of her, he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her closer till his face was pressed against the side of her womb, arms around her lower back and her hands instinctively weaving into his messy black locks.

“You are beautiful sweetheart,” he whispered. “It is all I can do to not ravish you when I see you rounding out with our child. Your fingers and feet are not skinny, your belly expands, your chest grows, and your cheeks seem perpetually crimson and glowing. You are a picture of beauty when you are pregnant love.”

He lifted his head to look up at her before planting a warm kiss to the side of her belly, doing the same to the other side before placing one more at the crest of the bump. His hands ghosting over every inch of her body, he slowly rose to his feet, lips trailing up her chest to her neck where he placed a chaste kiss to the corner of her jaw before pulling back to look her in the eyes.

He muttered something in Khuzdul under his breath just loud enough for Sara to hear and when she did, her eyes widened at what he had said. Thorin’s darkened eyes locked on hers before he slipped a hand behind her neck and brought his lips down on hers hungrily, Sara letting out a little gasp from the intensity, but she found herself melting into it, her head swimming and her hands gripping at his bare shoulders for support of her weak limbs.

“You brought me out of the darkness and into the light. Only someone truly amazing and spectacular could do that. Never ever think that you are not beautiful or you are unloved. If my last words are not “I love you” then you’ll know that I did not have time.”

Sara smirked before poking her husband’s bare chest. “Quoting Jamie Fraser from Outlander huh? You’ve been hanging out too long with my brothers.”

Thorin smiled before helping his wife pull her nightgown back on before picking her up into his arms and returning to the room. The two soon realized that there was no chance that they could squeeze back onto their bed so Thorin lay down on the large couch, Sara laying down between his side and the back of the couch, her head and hand on his chest and the two fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. Needless to say, when they woke the next morning, all five of their kids had somehow squeezed onto the couch and were sleeping on top of them, around them on between their legs. Mason sat on the floor looking Thorin in the eye as if saying “I tried.”

“And that dear Frodo is the end of the story,” Bilbo said with great ceremony, clapping his hands together before leaning back.

The white-haired hobbit considered the little boy who sat on the floor before him, barely five years old with curly black hair all over his eyes, bright blues staring at his uncle with amazement.

“But that cannot be the end!” Frodo objected. “How did it really end? Are they still alive? What about Sara’s brothers? And the children! Was the baby a boy or a girl!?”

Bilbo chuckled as his nephew ranted on and on about his questions. “Now, now lad, one question at a time.”

Frodo stuck out his lip in a pout but listened silently and intently as Bilbo continued.

“Sara and Thorin Oakenshield had another son: Shayne (above) with raven black hair like his father and the same blue eyes as both his parents. Sara’s brothers grew up and all went their separate ways. Axel went off to Gondor in search of adventure, found a lovely lass there and settled down for the rest of his days. Omar and Ryder remained at Erabor until they were grown men before they journeyed out to visit every corner of Middle Earth. They finally returned to the Mountain Village where the duties of Chief were handed to Omar after Deke passed on. They married and lived there till the end of their days. Young Kili married the love of his life, the red-haired she-elf. Not long ago, Kili’s age began to dwindle and the two took a boat to the undying lands so they would never be separated from each other ever. Kili was crowned king when young Sorin rejected the crown and he lived many years as a wonderful king of Erabor. Sorin married Zain and Rose’s little daughter Annabelle and their two children live in Erabor to this day. Princess Thana could not sit still and went to live in the Ironhills with her younger brother Thane. Thane died in a battle a few years ago but he had lived a long and fulfilling life. Thana never married. Thea and Shayne married and live in Erabor to this day. Sora could never part from her parents and when they died, she became a traveling writer, writing stories of her parents and family. Thorin and Sara lived till their grey years until they both died peacefully in bed together. Sora was the one who found them, the two wrapped in each other’s arms in peaceful sleep.”

When Bilbo did not continue, Frodo seemed satisfied that it was the end and with a huge grin, clapped before running off to find a new occupation now that the story was over. Bilbo sat in silence for a while, thinking with a fond smile back to the letter he had received from Sora just a year prior telling him of Thorin and Sara’s passing. He knew without a doubt that the two were happily dancing together on the White Shores.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Bilbo got up to answer it. There stood a young mailboy with a package in his hands. “Sorry Mr. Baggins, but this package arrived for you.”

Bilbo nodded and closed the door as he ripped the paper and stared at the rough, worn leather book. Flipping to the first page, he felt tears spring to his eyes.

Dear Bilbo,

I know that out of all of the company, you will be the one who will still be alive by the time we are gone. You and Gandalf. Don’t ask me how I know this, it’s a gift. Do what you think is right Bilbo and we will see each other again soon in a happier place.

With much love,

Sara and Thorin Oakenshield.

Slowly turning to each page, Bilbo smiled as he remembered when and where Sara drew each of the sketches until he came to the last page and he stared wide eyed. Wedged in the back page of the notebook was a small sketch… of him! Of his younger self! He smiled as he tucked the picture into his coat before finding a safe place to put the notebook on his shelf.

Little did he know that two figures stood at the edge of the White Shores, watching with smiles on their faces as they watched over Bilbo and Frodo from above.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! IT"S DONE!!!! I"M CRYING!!!!! Sorry that this chapter was so long but I got carried away in the fluff and angst:) Love ya'll and I hope you enjoyed!

#thorin oakenshield x oc #thorin oakenshield #thorin x oc #thorin #hobbit #lotr

[kyungsoomint]

Stay with Me

Member: Park Chanyeol (박찬열)

Genre: Angst & Fluff

Word Count: 1,868

Summary: He was a broken angel inside but a demon outside, she tried to mend him from time to time yet he pushed her further and further. Love was the only redemption.

Notes: It is based on Stay with Me by Chanyeol Ft. Punch, I really like this song because I watch Goblin a lot! Sorry if there is any mistake!

Chanyeol groaned as the sun was blazing bright from the window, he reached for a glass of water that’s usually there but he couldn’t find it. He sensed that something’s missing from his routine; she didn’t drive me home? he thought to himself yet it feels impossible because he won’t drive while he’s drunk; so she drove me home he closed his eyes for a while trying to figure out what happened last night. “Fuck” he muttered to himself.

The music was pounding so loud, enough to distract his mind, to loss himself into cloud 9. Of course, girls were trying to hit on him and he wouldn’t mind the attention, he gladly returned it with a flirtatious attitude. But there he was, running on the same circle again, he thought to himself that he had enough drinks that night. He took out his phone and trying to find her contact, he hesitated for a bit before he presses the call button. That circle ends with him unable to clean his own mess, every single damn time, he refused to acknowledge that she’s his anchor after all. There she was standing in front of another club, taking one final breath before going in only to found Chanyeol, the man that she loved for years was making out with someone. The memory was so vivid yet she refused to cry over it. She knew right at that moment years of cleaning his mess needs to stop at a point and that might be the point. She poked Chanyeol and he gave him the biggest grin ever which made her heart flutter, she shook her head to remind herself that this is the last time. “Let’s go” she practically dragged his big body with hers. Chanyeol tried to break free from her grip as she was leading him into the parking lot “Stop dragging me” he groaned in frustration and she stopped on her track to face him “I don’t know maybe you shouldn’t have called me to clean your mess again” she half shouted and got into the car. “I’ll place the key on the kitchen counter,” she said turning to him. “Why are you still here?” Chanyeol tried to speak and before she could answer he continue again “Why do you still take my call? Do you love me that much to be a stupid ass bitch?” he laughed. She tried to hold back her tears as she recalled what kind of person Chanyeol is or at least was. He never meant to hurt anyone, that cheerful side of him that made her falls so hard for but that night was the last straw “I wish I never met you, you bother me so much” his harsh words were like daggers into her heart. She was there through the thick and thin of his life yet he treated her like shit.“That’s fucking it Chanyeol. I’m leaving for real” tears were already flowing like a river when she took her phone out to find his contact. “Don’t ever fucking call me again” she deleted his phone number right in front of him which earned a devilish smile from him. She couldn’t bear the sight of him anymore so she went out of the house, looking at the sky while tears still staining her face, but for once after years she didn’t feel suffocated anymore. Chanyeol still stood at the place he said those awful things to her “It’s done for good, I did that for her” he closed his eyes and a single tear fell from his eyes.

He tried to find comfort within his bed and prayed to throw the hollowness away. “I did the right thing didn’t I (Y/N)?” he sighed.

2 Months Later

The liquid was burning in his throat as he drank another shot of vodka, months after she left he still couldn’t pick himself up, there were times when he desperately wanted to call her but stop immediately knowing that she might not want to speak to him anymore. No one could replace her presence, some mornings she still made breakfast for him with her soft humming from the kitchen, he never forget the way she looks like someone as a part of his future yet he couldn’t bring himself to it, his past was a fucked up one, he felt guilty because she stayed during those times.

On the other hand, (Y/N) met an old friend that just came back into the country after 10 years. He was a long-time friend, probably longer than her knowing Chanyeol. He waved at her from the table with a big smile “It’s been so long!” he cheered. “I know right. How are you, Sehun?” for once in 2 months her smile came out as a genuine one. They had known each other for so long as they kept in touch with each other as Sehun was working abroad. “So I just engaged with my girlfriend” he proudly showed the ring at her “Yoojin? I’m so happy for both of you” she exclaimed with joy. “I envy you so much,” she said. “How about you? Is there anyone you are seeing?” he threw a playful smile at her. “It’s very complicated honestly” she tried to laugh it off. She was grateful that she met Sehun that day because he never fails to make her laugh even on days like that. Suddenly, a firm hand gripped her wrist, Chanyeol was standing right next to her bringing confusion into Sehun. “What are you doing?” she hissed at Chanyeol and tried to break free from him, Sehun tried to help his friend but earned a glare from Chanyeol. “Come with me, we need to talk” his gaze was focused on her, sending chills into her body. “Sehun, It’s okay and I’m sorry,  do you mind if I go now?” her face was purely written in guilt. Sehun eyed Chanyeol for a second and turned back to her “It’s okay, I need to meet Jongin too” he smiled warmly at her which brought a tighter grip into her wrist. “Are you done?” anger was clearly flashed from his eyes, he dragged her into his car. “Let me go” she tried to make him let her go or at least lessen the grip. “We need to talk,” he said as he gestured her to get into the car. “There is nothing else to talk about” she was facing the window when he started the engine. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and said nothing until they arrived at his house. 

Chanyeol sat on the sofa while (Y/N) just stood there with her arms crossed. He sighed and gestured her to sit next to him “No need” her reply was stern. “Make it fast Chanyeol, what do you want me to do this time after you throw me under the bush?” anger was visible from her tone, scenes from that night couldn’t be erased, his words were still stabbing her heart. “How can you go on a date only after 2 months? That short your feelings for me to be gone?” he let out a bitter laugh although hurt was all that he could hear of himself. “What’s the problem if I date anyone? As if it bothers you” her anger rose more and more as she thought he was playing with her feelings again like he always did. Chanyeol was frustrated as he stood in front of her, running his hand through his hair making it a hot mess. “Yes it bothers me a lot” he was practically screaming and it was a shocking scene for her “I don’t like to see you with any other guys. I-“ she cut him off “It did bother me a lot too, how many fucking nights I have spent crying over you? Crying while you were having fun with your world and that dumb ass me still caring about you a lot even I still take you home with my heart shattering into the floor. I know that you like playing with my heart so bad, even after knowing that I still running back to you. Going through the rage and happiness you gave to me. How am I supposed to live with that, Chanyeol?” she was already sitting on the floor being a sobbing mess. “Please stop doing this to me. If you don’t mean anything, please let me go Chanyeol” she whispered which was audible enough for him to hear. Sniffle was heard and she looked up only to see Chanyeol was sobbing quietly looking as broken as she was. His knees gave out as he sat there facing her on the floor. “I fucked up a lot, didn’t I? Curse at me anything you want, punch me if you want to but” he paused for a second to reach out for her hand “Please stay with me. I can’t live without you” Chanyeol was a mess right there, he even cried harder than she did. She has seen him at the lowest point of his life, she has seen his family broken down into pieces, people rejecting him and all yet she’s still there helping him to fix his life but this was the lowest of the low than before. “When I close my eyes, I only see you, you only, I’m too scared to admit that I love you, too scared that I’ll break you into pieces. I know that I don’t deserve your love at all, that’s why I tried to push you away. I’d go to places where I can let myself loose for a while but I always end up running back to you. You know my past, you know exactly how fucked up my life was and there you were standing by my side making me feel there’s a light in the darkness yet knowing myself sinking deeper into you. I’m so fucking sorry for being a coward a dick, a mess. But I love you so much, so much it hurts to let you go, to see you with someone else” Chanyeol kept his head down as (Y/N) was still trying to process his words, she thought that he used her only for comfort but there he sat, a broken man with little love inside, the man she has loved for so long, so long that it never fades. She moved to hug him, feeling his body weight into her shoulder until they both calm down “You must have known that I never stop loving you right?” and that was true, he never really left her heart, he possessed everything there. “And I’m here with you, I can guarantee you that Chanyeol,” she said with her hand patting his head. “Also, If you were jealous, Sehun is already engaged, he planned to marry his fiance soon, the thought of you being a jealous person crack me out for a second” she poked her tongue out and Chanyeol gave out a pouty face. His face was on her neck, she could feel his steady breathing there. “I love you so fucking much, (Y/N)” he kissed her slowly as their lips melted together. “I love you too Chanyeol”

A/N: Honestly, my mom even once make Stay with me as her phone ringtone. 

#chanyeol #park chanyeol #chanyeol exo #chanyeol fanfiction #chanyeol reaction #chanyeol imagine #chanyeol imagines #chanyeol angst #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol drabble #exo #exo fanfiction #exo reaction #exo imagine #exo imagines #exo angst #exo luff #exo drabble #sehun #kyungsoo #xiumin #chen #suho #kai #lay #baekhyun

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Devil’s own Luck pt20

Warning: Mob styling warlords, strong language

Masterlist

---

Chapter 20 – Carpe Mortem

“Come on Mitsuhide. Hurry we’re going to be late.” It was her voice. Her soft sweet voice full of warmth and laughter. A siren’s call in the blackness surrounding him, tempting him.

He tried to moved but couldn’t his body felt like lead. The colourless void around him moved and as there she was …  Emica. His best friend’s sister standing there just as beautiful as she always was glowing like the sun in a pretty pale-yellow dress her dark hair flowing down her back. Her smile etched on her face a small crinkle on her nose as she laughed and called him.

“Emica slow down. They can’t start the party until we get there so there is no need to rush.” His voice was different it sounded so alien in his own ears. Did I seriously sound that delighted when I was with her? Darkness spread like ink in a bowl of water swirling around her for a brief second, she was lost to him.

“Mitsuhide!” He remembered that cry. He heard it every night and it still sent a cold shock right threw his body. Not wanting to see what he knew must be in front of him mow he tried to squeeze his eyes shut.

“Emi…. NO!” The effort was futile and pathetic. Of all the horrors he had seen all the terror he had orchestrated and made reality for the people he had ‘interrogated’ over the years it was still this one scene that rocked him to his core. How he hated it, hated them for doing it and hated himself for allowing it to happen, she was targeted because of him and the guilt killed him.

The prone female form on the ground the blood flowing from her chest, her large warm heart giving its last beat and the light that once shone so bright he could have sworn she had trapped the rays of the sun itself in them was glazed and cold as the concrete she was laying on.

He felt it, his body quivering, the uncontrollable tremor and something else. Small soft like a tiny animal brushing against his hand. He couldn’t open his eyes he couldn’t move, all he could do was surrender to the darkness that had its grip on him.

“Mitsuhide… sob… please stay with me.” This voice? [Name]? It was so small and fragile he almost missed it. But she was there she was holding his hand and crying for him. I’m so, so sorry my love. So, so sorry…

---

[Name] had lost count of how long they had been sitting waiting at the hospital. Time held little comfort as each passing second felt like hours as she stared at the light above the surgery room’s door a sickening glow telling her that they were still working on the man she loved as he fought for his life alone.

After they arrived Nobunaga had pulled some members of staff to the side and made the arrangements to have Mitsuhide treated whilst making sure no one out side of the necessary members of staff knew what had actually happened. It was amazing to watch him in action, or it would have been had she not been so focused on the hand in hers that was ice cold to her touch.

Mitsunari hadn’t left her side except to go to the venting machine for coffee and hot chocolate for her. His violet eyes were pained when he looked at her. She remembered how kind he had been when she first arrived and how he helped to find her books sometimes sitting with her reading to keep her company. She couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt that she was causing his angelic face to fall as it was now into a mask of concern.

“I’ll be back in a bit I need to get some fresh air and check in with HQ. Mitsunari stay with [Name].” Nobunaga announced as he got up from his chair in the waiting room.

“Yes Sir.” Mitsunari nodded and looked at the woman next to him on the sofa. “[Name] is there anything I can get for you? Another drink? Maybe some food?”

She shook her head in response eyes glued to the light over the door. Mitsunari sighed as he looked at her in profile, he had heard the others refer to her as pretty, cute and kind. It hadn’t occurred to him until just now seeing her worry so much for his injured friend that she was all that and so much more, but he had no idea how to help her as she suffered in silence beside him. So, he joined her in the silence and waited hoping it was enough to let her know she wasn’t alone.

---

“Hey boss any news?” Masa had picked up the phone at HQ sounding cheerful but a little distracted.

“Not yet. How’s things at your end?” Nobunaga asked.

“Yeah about that…” Masa trailed off as he was speaking causing Nobunaga to raise his eye brow.

“What don’t tell me Ieyasu killed Yukimura while I wasn’t there to see it?” Nobunaga chuckled into the receiver imagining the mayhem.

“No nothing like that … err…” Again, Masa trailed off Nobunaga found it mildly irksome.

“Masa it’s not like you to stutter so spit it out what’s the problem.” Nobunaga raised his voice slightly. He didn’t really mean to but he was starting to feel the effects of the day catching up on him.

“There’s a damn body in the trunk!” Ieyasu’s voice shouted from the background on the phone followed by what sounded like Masa putting him in a head lock to silence him.

“What did he just say?” Nobunaga stood still for a moment processing the news.

“Sorry about that Nobu, it seems Kennyo isn’t the only prisoner Mitsuhide had someone in his car too.” Masa said as he released Ieyasu, the grumbling complaints and sounds could be heard over the phone but Nobunaga didn’t pay them much attention.

“Well he never fails to be entertaining and troublesome.” Nobunaga chuckled as he turned his gaze towards the hospital a smile spreading across his face.

“What do you want us to do about them? Police are crawling everywhere right now we might not be able to shift them for a few days.” Masa asked awaiting orders.

“Just keep them in the secure lock up for now I’ll make the arrangements when I get back. There is a doctor who owes me a favour.” Nobunaga said before he hung up the receiver. He saw staff moving out of the back entrance to the surgery department and decided he wanted to know what was going on.

---

“What did he say?” Ieyasu looked at Masa rubbing his neck at where he had been grabbed.

“He’s going to get in touch with a doctor that owes him one.” Masa said as he replaced the phone in its cradle.

“He’s going to let them live?” Ieyasu looked a little shocked.

“Not sure you could call putting them in that doctor’s care ‘living’.” Masa gave an involuntary shudder. He knew the doctor that Nobu was talking about and the facility he ran. You want someone gone for good but not actually dead… he was your man.

---

The light went out and it took a few seconds for it to register in her mind as she blinked repeatedly thinking it must be a dream.

After what felt like an eternity a doctor appeared at the doors looking into the waiting room. He was drying his hands with an unreadable look on his face. [Name]’s heart jumped into her throat she wanted to rush up to bombard him with questions, to push past him and burst into the room to see Mitsuhide. But something felt wrong… very horribly wrong and she didn’t think she wanted to know the answers to her questions at all.

“Are you part of the party waiting for Mr Akechi?” The doctor was young, almost too young looking. Do they even let them finish preschool before handing out medical certificates these days?

“Yes … we are, he’s our friend.” Mitsunari answered for her she was just staring at the doctor like he was a ghost.

“Ah, I see. There is never a good way to tell anyone this kind of news.” The Doctor lowered his eyes a little before bringing them back up to look at them more directly straightening his posture as he did so. “I’m sorry but…”

“No…” Her voice tumbled out of her mouth barely more than a whisper.

“I’m afraid there was nothing we could do to help. He lost a lot of blood and several of his vital organs were punctured as a result of his injuries the internal bleeding was some of the worst I have seen. I’m sorry.” The doctor spoke in a calm manner.

“NO!” she screeched the tears she had held back erupted from her eyes pouring in rivers down her cheeks once more. Mitsunari grabbed her shoulders and turned her into his chest rubbing her back trying to get her to calm down, all the time thinking he might break as well.

The unfortunate doctor looked troubled. It was not an easy thing to ever tell people bad news but it was also part of his job. He tried his best to be as professional as possible without appearing like a robot as he spoke. He was failing terribly the look on the faces before him reflected so many things he had seen in so many others and no matter how often he saw it, it still made him feel like the worst medical professional on the planet. He didn’t know what else to say, nothing he could think off would help. So, he simply repeats his ‘I’m sorry” and walked way leaving the couple in the waiting room.

---

It wasn’t difficult to find the right room. This area of the hospital whilst it still functioned was also supposed to be closed for renovations so there was only one active surgery room. He had managed to slip in and pushed his back against the wall as he listened to the doctor brake the news.

He turned his eyes to the table in the middle of the room the figure laying there under a clean crisp white sheet it almost looked like something from a story book. The white hair on the man’s head had been brushed back the blood that had once coated him was removed as well it was like it all had never happened. He picked up the chart on the table next to the figure and flipped through some pages before he rolled his eyes and… – Thwack – he brought the clip board down on the prone figures head.

“Argh! Fucking Hell! That hurt.” The body moved its hands covering his face rubbing the top of his head roughly.

“It appears that we have a rather responsive corpse.” Nobunaga said with a reproachful tone to his voice.

“What the…?” He opened his eyes and met a set of red ones staring right back at him.

“That’s my line. What are you planning Mitsuhide?” Nobunaga held up the chart. “It appears you have the devil’s own luck the blade missed every single internal organ. So, what is with that bullshit the doctor just told the girl and Mitsunari?”

“Alright already, I’ll tell you don’t hit me with that thing again. I think you impaled my skull with the metal clip.” Mitsuhide adjusted himself on the bed slowly until he was sitting upright. “This is the only way.”

“Only way?” Nobunaga tilted his head.

“Hey Man I had to sit quietly and listen to you when you told me about your plan you could show the same courtesy.” Mitsuhide raised his tone slightly glaring at Nobu for interrupting.

“You’re right my apologies pray continue.” Nobunaga perched on the edge of surgery table and waited to be informed.

“It hit me in the warehouse she would do something stupid putting herself in danger to try to help or protect me. If it wasn’t Kennyo today it would have been someone else tomorrow or the day after that. I can’t have that.” Mitsuhide shook his head in disbelief as he thought about it.

“She said you protected her.” Nobu chipped in.

“Yeah I was just as shocked by that as anyone else. I don’t know what happened I just saw Kennyo about to strike and my body moved on its own I couldn’t stop it.” Mitsuhide looked at his own hands as if he thought they might belong to someone else.

“So, it’s not just her that is the issue here then. You too will do something reckless and out of character trying to protect her?” Nobunaga looked at his friend as if he was trying to unravel a puzzle.

“I guess so. I don’t want her in danger, she isn’t part of this world and I cannot do that to her. This is the only way to set her free because I really think that if she knew I was alive regardless of if I turned her away she would still try to do something stupid.” Mitsuhide wasn’t trying to sound conceited, he knew she was stubborn and had such a good heart. She could probably understand his argument but also dig her heels in and push back refusing to go anywhere. It was unbelievable endearing but whole heartedly annoying at the same time.

“From what I’ve seen you might be right. You really did find a Fireball.” Nobunaga had a warm smile on his face and Mitsuhide wondered if she just had the ability to bring that kind of emotion out in everyone around her. Is her magic that strong that it even managed to touch the Devil King himself?

“It wasn’t intentional, but yes you’re right.” Nodding Mitsuhide looked towards the doors to the waiting area. She would have been gone by now.

“So … you wish to die?” Nobunaga’s question pulled his attention back.

“For her yes.” He forced himself to hold the penetrating gaze from Nobunaga. Don’t give me that look I’m not some child who hasn’t got a clue what he is saying.

“I’ll make the arrangements. I cannot let you leave me though, I still need you Mitsuhide. If that girl had been the cause of you really leaving my side…” Nobunaga nodded and put the clip board down on the table as he stood up.

“What would you have done?” Mitsuhide looked at him.

“I wonder.” Nobunaga simply smiled and walked out of the room without turning back.

“Cryptic as always Nobu.” Mitsuhide shook his head lightly lowering his body once more. 

The drugs were wearing off the dull ache in his body would soon become searing pain and whilst he thought about calling for the doctor to top up the drugs he felt it might be better to just suffer the pain.

---

[latynren]

Of course my first post would be a Reylo writing prompt!  I figure other people have written for this prompt, but I couldn’t help it!  It was too touching!

Inspired by this prompt-  Kylo hears a woman singing a lullaby and sees a hazy vision of a brunette woman with a black-haired baby. At first, he thinks it’s a memory, until the vision comes into a focus and he realizes it’s not Leia singing to him, but Rey singing to their future child.

This got longer then I originally planned, unbeta’d and very first drafty.  Here goes nothing!  It's super fluffy of course, so yeah... Let me know what you think!

Force visions did not come to Kylo often.  His last one had been with Rey, when they’d touched hands so many months ago. Even then it hadn’t really been a Force vision so much as the Force showing him hints of Rey’s childhood.  He hadn’t just seen her parents in that brief moment, he’d seen snippets of what she’d suffered on Jakku.   Her fear, her desperation, the never-ending drag of hot days and freezing nights.  How many more times had she gone hungry?  How many more times had she been beaten?  How many times had she come within centimeters of death during mishaps on those forsaken, rotting ships of the Empire?

What would he do with that information?

Kylo often resisted the urge to create another world destroyer just to eradicate that sandy piece of shit planet.  Even within the First Order he had a sound reason to do so, since that planet marked the final resting place of the Empire.  If he could destroy any trace that the Empire had ever ended Hux might stop hounding him.  Hux always appreciated grand and zealous gestures, especially in worship of the past.

There was only one remnant of the past he wished to think of, and he was currently staring into it.  The empty sockets of Vader’s melted mask felt as if they may just be glaring back.  Or looking with sorrow.  Kylo had never been sure which of the two emotions was more likely.  Either was possible considering the life and death of the man who’d worn this mask.  Anger or agony it didn’t matter, this was the one piece of history he treasured.  And a part of that was due to the Force vision he’d seen when he touched this very helmet the first time.  

Because he had seen her.

The vision of her was just a single moment in time, a flash of beige clothing and brown hair, but now that he’d met her he knew.  It was the eyes in that second that sealed it, alive and vibrant. Hazel.  The other moments had been all darkness, swallowing everything he knew.  His own hand destroying hope, his knights as they were after he became their master, his conquest of the stars, all of that was there.  However even in all that dark, one moment of light had wormed its way in.  His Rey.

Still he was surprised when he felt this one take him, no matter how many times he’d begged the mask to show him again.  Kylo felt the rush, the disorientating flux of reality.  He expected rapid fire scenes of destruction, the death of his enemies, or even views of the worlds he conquered, the First Order sigil flying. None of those things happened.  

At first nothing happened.  

He heard her then, her voice sounded far away.  Swiveling in his chair he followed the source of the sound.  The world around him turned blurry, and for a moment everything went black.  Then slowly soft light appeared, the golden light of dawn.  It slowly seeped into his room, lighting the black walls and floors until they gleamed ivory.  Warmth suffused him next, then shadow.  A tree outside a window shading him, the green of new leaves as real as if he was there.

The song came again, stronger this time. Still soft, but as if she was in the room with him.  Moving slowly this time he tracked his eyes across the room.   A woman stood with her back to him, brunette hair flowing down her back in a silky river.  Her dress was light and meant for comfort, the pearly material translucent.  If not for the under slip he’d have seen more then just her legs.  

Intrigued he moved closer, slow steps so as not to disturb this place, that woman.  

Her song came to him a bit clearer now, her voice low and melodic as she sang.  She was standing in front of something, some type of furniture he thought.  The shape hadn’t completely solidified yet so he wasn’t sure what it could be.  Studying her closely he noted a bend to her arms, as if she were holding something. Cradling something.  Something that contrasted heavily with the light of her clothing.  Black, silky strands against the crease of her elbow, her head turned just so to look down.  Devotion, and a love so deep he could sense it, in the softness of her lips and jaw. The rest was hidden by her unbound hair.

 A baby he realized.  Very small if the soft mewling sounds were any indication.  Not a real cry yet.  He wasn’t sure how he knew, maybe it was some deeply buried instinct. It must be considering what it triggered inside of him.  

Protectiveness.

Breathing evenly, he tried to put that feeling back where it belonged.  This was obviously the past, there was no undoing what would be done to this child. Although why the force would choose to show him his own childhood he wasn’t sure.  What good was this going to do?  He’d already failed to kill Leia in his quest to destroy the past, and he was not planning to try again.  

Whatever happened to the Resistance he was going to stay as far away from that woman as possible.  She made him falter, made him weak, just like another brunette that came to mind.  

The words of the Leia’s song became clearer, of course it would be that morbid tune she’d sing.  It had always been her favorite to sing to him.  

‘Mirrorbright, shines the moon, its glow as soft as an ember’

Something about that voice didn’t sit right.  What memories he had of his early childhood were hazy, at best, and sometimes distorted.  However he knew this song, Leia had sung it at bedtime many nights to help him sleep.  And considering it actually had aided him in finding dreamless peace he’d often begged her to sing it.  Something about her singing always soothed him, and he wondered now if she had unconsciously imbued the song with her own light force.

‘When the moon is mirrorbright, take this time to remember’

Trepidation left him wavering as he toed forward. Only his belief that he was watching his own past kept him from feeling like an intruder.  

‘Those you have loved but are gone’

Han and Luke’s faces flashed through his mind. Desperately Kylo tried not to think of why that lyric would bring them to mind.  He had to push them back, something wasn’t right here.

That wasn’t his mother’s voice.  Kylo was sure now.  He felt nothing but her love for the tiny being cooing in her arms.  No force to chase away his darkness.  He wondered, would he have needed it then? Is that why she sounded different? He was starting to see the outline of the child’s face, a button nose and rosy lips.  The lips were the same for sure, but how had he grown this long nose from that tiny, up-tilted bump?

‘Those who kept you so safe and warm- ’ The woman gave a gasp and turned more toward him, he’d come too close.  He noticed the lips first, pink and healthy, but not quite right.   In fact everything about her face was not quite Leia, but heart-rendingly familiar. Tracing his eyes up he looked into her eyes.

Hazel eyes, not warm brown.  

‘Ben.’ Those eyes smiled as he felt a shock run through him.  Stronger then anything Snoke had ever thrown his way, electricity ran from his feet to his head and left him stunned.  Still she smiled.  Looking down swiftly he stared at the child in her arms.  Her nose, his lips.  

His lips…

His.

His!  That thought beat with the rhythm of his heart and spread joy through his veins. Rey was cradling his child to her, singing his lullaby, and most importantly she was happy.  Nothing of this place spoke of pain or unease, only the warmth of happiness.  And love, hers for the baby as well as hers for him.  Suddenly without a doubt, his love for them flowed around them too.

‘Here, take her, she’s so fussy!’ Rey giggled softly, without hesitation she moved the baby to her hands.  She trusted him, unquestionably.  With extreme apprehension, but boundless desire, he reached for the baby.  

His daughter!  

Somehow the force allowed it, her slight weight was tangible in his hands. Rey continued to support the baby’s head until he got her into the cradled position he’d seen Rey adopt. ‘She always has such a hard time sleeping, unless you sing to her of course!’

He knew why he had a hard time sleeping as a child.

 The little girl looked up at him with shining eyes. Little tears still clung to her lashes, and Ben wanted to destroy anything that brought her unhappiness. Nothing was allowed to make her sad, no sorrow was to touch her.  He felt the force in her, and he despaired at the idea of a creature like Snoke finding her. As he looked into those eyes, a strange gray that seemed to be turning brown, he felt horror fill him at the idea of anything using her.  

Never!

He would die to keep her safe!

‘My little crabby girl, you make it hard for your brother to sleep.’ Ben’s head snapped back to look at Rey.  She had been looking at the baby in his arms, now she was gently reaching into the object he’d noticed before.  A crib, and a long one, almost like two had been shoved together.   As she straightened he saw why.  

‘Poor baby boy, did sissy wake you?’ Bringing this baby to her face she nuzzled his head and snuffled into his neck.  The babies face was turned toward Ben, he saw the interaction of mother and son closely. Being so young the baby didn’t giggle, but his eyes widened and he cooed with obvious delight.  He was going to have her eyes, and her hair too, but he’d been cursed with Ben’s nose and ears.  And the force was in him too, just as strong as his sister.

Tears were freely falling down Ben’s cheeks in silent rivers.  

Looking down he saw his daughter watching him with eyes that seemed too old for her little face.  Like she knew.  Holding back a sob he mimicked Rey’s hold so he could bring her to his face, supporting the baby’s head carefully.  

She even smelled real, and so fresh.  Like spring and mother’s milk, a scent he recognized subconsciously.

Her skin was silk against his cheek.  He was so thankful he’d actually shaved today, so at least he wouldn’t hurt her with his stubble.  She made a little sound, almost an animal sound, as he rubbed his nose into her unbelievably soft hair.  He chuffed back at her, all of it instinct.

My baby, my babies.  

He felt a little bump against his shoulder, Rey was resting her head against his shoulder.  Turning her head up at him she gave him a tired smile, but there was such joy infused he could only share in it.

Our babies

‘She loves when her daddy sings the song for her, it always put her to sleep.’ There was a tiny grumble of envy in her tone, but he easily sensed it was meant in good-nature. Then her eyes slid to the baby boy.  His expression was much different than his sisters, he seemed content where she was conflicted. Still he had turned his bleary eyes to Ben in a way that made him believe that was definitely watching his father.  Rey huffed, ‘and him too.’

‘Should I start over?’ He asked softly.

‘Sure, I’ll join in, but they never respond to me like they do to you.’ Rey nodded.

Taking a deep breath he found the song easy to remember.  Even after all these years, even with him willing himself to forget it.

‘Mirrorbright, shines the moon, its glow as soft as an ember

When the moon is mirrorbright, take this time to remember

Those you have loved but are gone

Those who kept you so safe and warm

The mirrorbright moon lets you see

Those who have ceased to be

Mirrorbright shines the moon, as fires die to their embers

Those you loved are with you still—

The moon will help you remember’ They sang together, and as in all things he found they balanced each other perfectly.  Her voice was just the right pitch to suit his much lower tone.  The babies cradled against them had both fallen asleep.

Together they created wonderful things.  

‘See,’ Rey whispered as she moved toward the crib again.  ‘You always make them settle and get to sleep.  It’s handy.’

He realized then that he’d imbued his own force into his words.  Light force.  

Rey nudged him again and he knew she wanted him to put his daughter in her side of the crib.

What are their names?!  What was she called?  Did he have nicknames for them? He was desperate to ask, but he didn’t want to do anything to stop this vision.  And even though he was loathed to do so he knew he had to put her down. She needed to sleep.

Silently he stepped forward, bending over the crib to set her down as gently as possible.  

When he straightened his hands felt empty.

‘See, you were so nervous waiting for them to get here, but I knew you’d do fine.’ She was resting her head against him again, it was a gesture that was familiar to her.  They’d stood this way many times in her reality.  ‘You’re going to do fine Ben, you’ll see.’

He just nodded.

The vision became hazy again.  Inside he was screaming and howling, never wanting this to end, but outward he stood still, not wanting to disturb that moment anymore then he already had.  They faded, darkness crawling back in.  Swallowing the soft sunlight, eating away at his vision with a savagery they he almost couldn’t stomach.

When it was all gone he felt to his knees.  He was alone again.  The pain was cutting, it sent him down onto his elbows with his head pressed to the cold floor.  Tears finally fell from his face, dripping onto the floor.  Great shuddering breaths wracked his chest, and some of the suppressed agony rushed forward in incomprehensible roars.

Why!

Force, why!

Why did it take them away from him?  Why had it shown him so much?  Allowed him to interact with that shade of the future?

Ben had never wanted anything more then to relive those moments in this reality.  Nothing had ever infused him with such longing before.  Not even the power he’d been promised had drawn him as inexorably as that one moment.

How was he to achieve such a thing?  He’d built a home with her, created a family, and lived in peace.  How was that even possible?  Would he ruin it by knowing?  Would he never have reached it had he never seen that vision?  Did he do nothing, or did it try?

How could he simply do as the force willed when he wanted that so badly?

Trust in the force

Words spoken by every one of his relatives at some point in his life.

His mother had said it constantly when he was nervous, or doing new things.  

His father had said it just before he’d been sent to Luke.

His uncle had repeated that quietly when Ben questioned his pacifist teachings.

Ben’s grief finally subsided, and slowly it was replaced with something that he had long cast aside.   That he’d long thought dead within him.

Hope.

#reyloprompts inspired #reylo babies

[blessed-but-distressed]

This is a thing that I wrote a long time ago.

It isn’t fanfiction. It’s just fiction. 

I will be posting here until I think of what to do with it.

FERNWEH

 When Becca decides to shake off those shackles and get the hell outta Dodge, she doesn’t have many regrets. She won’t miss those late nights folding baby clothes at her local All Baby Needs SuperStore. She won’t miss her distant parents or her uninspiring classes for her useless degree. The only person she will miss is Jack.

Jack is stuck in the post-university, pre-real job wasteland of delayed adolescence. He doesn’t know if he is a socialist, or an anarchist, or just reads too many books. He stacks vegetables, he haunts libraries and he chases girls. But now his best friend is leaving town, and he doesn’t know if he can handle being left behind.

A story about growing up, leaving home, staying behind, sad bastard music and the people who make everything bearable.

Chapter One: 

Becca

Truthfully, I can handle all of it. The cloying stench of mouldy socks and clove cigarettes. The scratchy, standard-issue woollen blanket that wasn’t quite enough to wade off the night-time chill. The oddly masculine snoring that would make any trucker proud. The clanking of pipes in the wall beside my bed that had me sat bolt upright on my first night, half convinced the ghost of Jacob Marley was coming for me, dragging the chains he’d forged in life. All of this didn’t bother me. Not really. But the weeping. I couldn’t handle the fucking weeping.

I’d been sharing a room in Berlin’s cheapest youth hostel for a week with Ilonka, from Hungary. Ilonka the weeper. And we aren’t talking about girlish sobs here, with intermittent hiccups. Oh no. Not Ilonka. Beautiful, heartbroken, weeping Ilonka. She didn’t do anything by half measures.

She’d told me her life story on the first night, over a Midori and lemonade in the bar downstairs. I was quickly coming to the realisation that this was how it was done. Nothing in Backpacker World got done without a bit of Dutch courage.

Ilonka’s story was that she’d come to Berlin to intern at one of those ridiculously trendy, ridiculously contemporary art galleries in Kreuzberg. Which made sense. With her extensive collection of very cute multi-coloured berets, long, lean legs encased habitually in skinny jeans, and her Franka Potente in Run Lola Run hair, she certainly looked the part. She made me feel inadequate every time she entered a room, and I was convinced that was at least half of what contemporary art was all about.

Which is why it was so disconcerting when halfway through her third Midori and lemonade, big fat tears began to slip down her perfect, Eastern European face, and into her drink, which she continued to sip through her straw, unperturbed. Then, without much warning, she keeled forward, and a high-pitched noise of distress began to rise from the back of her throat, not unlike that of an ambulance leaving the scene of an accident. The barman, cute and Irish though he may have been, gave us that ‘You’d better clear the fuck out’ look perfected by cute Irish bartenders the world over, and I bundled her upstairs before he summoned over the bouncer, who was significantly more intimidating.

Once I’d gotten her settled on her twin bed, she pulled herself together enough to relate to me the rest of the story. On her third week into her internship, she’d rung up her boyfriend, Kolos, back home in Budapest, and her best friend had answered the phone. Turns out they’d been screwing around behind her back for the last six months, and they had used Ilonka’s absence to move in together. Which you have to give points for, if only for the sheer brazen cowardice of it all. Were they going to keep up the charade until it came time to ask her to be the Maid of Honour at their wedding?

Ilonka was a wreck. She’d keep it together all day, every day at work, but as soon as she got back into the room she would just lie on her bed, crying inconsolably for hours, until she eventually, mercifully, fell asleep. If she wasn’t weeping, she was sitting on the window sill, where she had pried the window open, and was smoking her favourite clove cigarettes in flagrant disregard of our dorm’s no smoking policy, and my (fabricated) assertions that I was an asthmatic. She’d hold her cigarette in one hand and her mobile phone in the other, and yell obscenities in Hungarian to whoever was on the other end, in between puffs. I don’t speak a lick of Hungarian, but you can always tell an obscenity, no matter the language. It’s about the force behind the delivery. The venom behind the words.

The hostel had been chosen for its location, just off the Ku'damm, not for its internal décor or sterling customer service record. Which is just as well, because I’d been in cancer wards with more cheer; the grey-speckled institutional style walls hinting at the building’s previous life as an insane asylum perhaps, or at the very least a reform school. My polite request to move to a different room had been met with a coolly raised eyebrow, and an unconvincing promise that they’d see what they could do.

It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind for my first foray into the world of international travel. But it certainly made for interesting anecdotes for my emails sent back home.

I’d say things were going much better for me outside of the hostel, but that was a matter of some debate.

A few months back, embittered by my slow slide from promising Journalism student to person-who-straightens-cans-of-baby-food-in-a-budget-department-store-for-a-living, I’d stayed up until four in the morning one night, researching methods of escaping the monotonous retail hell that my life had become.

My unlikely salvation was with a company that would pay for me to fly to Germany to work as an Au Pair for a year. They’d even put me up in Berlin for a month, so I could brush up on the language, before they dispatched me to the family they would pair me with. All of those weekend evenings spent wrangling my neighbour’s kids to bed when I was sixteen had suddenly come in handy, and I had signed on the dotted line.

Of course, when I say “brush up on the language”, I mean learn from scratch. Of course. German had never been an elective at high school. I’d learnt Italian, although that data had almost been completely rewritten in my mind, replaced with an intricate knowledge of song lyrics by a particular favourite band of mine, who specialised in what my friend Jack liked to call “Sad Bastard Music.”

The total sum of my German language proficiency before my departure had been restricted to numbers one through ten, hello, good bye, thank you, and handful of random phrases one picks up after a lifetime of watching World War Two dramas, none of which were suitable for polite company. My knowledge of German culture was mostly restricted to a general appreciation for Daniel Brühl’s face, and a vague recollection of having read Faust when I was fourteen.

It was not until I took a seat on the first day of classes, that I realised what a grave mistake I had made. There was no way I would be able to wrangle children, even relatively small, uncomplicated ones, in four weeks time, with absolutely zero grasp on the language. It was impossible. Unfathomable.

Our teacher was a jovial fellow called Hans-Peter. He had the kind of white bushy moustache and knitted jumpers which made him look rather like a benevolent tug-boat captain, and kind eyes that encouraged students to take risks where they might otherwise have kept silent. He was a good teacher. I could tell. But there was no way in hell he was going to make me semi-fluent within a month.

Every classroom in the language school was named after a particular river in Germany. Our classroom, Donau, which I later discovered was the German word for the Danube, was right at the top of three dizzyingly uneven flights of stairs, in a converted attic where every inch of wall space was dedicated to laminated charts depicting a different German verb, and its various forms. It also had a broken radiator, which Hans-Peter would kick good-naturedly every morning when it failed to break the chill, before instructing us to keep our gloves on.

That’s the first useful German phrase I learn.

“Handschuhe auf!“ Gloves on.

The second:

“Jacken auf!“ Jackets on.

I’d always had a natural talent for scholastic endeavours. Which is to say, I’d really crashed and burned at university when I’d gotten through twelve years of schooling without really trying too hard, to find I actually had no idea how to study. But I’d always managed to scrape by on natural ability. I had no natural ability when it came to German. I was a babe in the woods. And I definitely needed to study.

Being in a foreign country where you don’t speak the language is a little like being a newborn lamb. You stumble a lot, and you’re vulnerable as hell, but everyone finds you pretty damn adorable anyway, for the most part. But for someone who has always been really good at things, it is the ultimate exercise in humility. Suddenly, you’re unable to do even the most simplest of things. Order a coffee. Ask for directions. Make an effusive apology to the angry looking guy you bump into on the train.

It had taken me five whole days to work up the necessary courage to approach even a McDonalds counter. I practiced the order in my head, as I waited in line.

“Ein Happy Meal, bitte.” One Happy Meal, please.

I didn’t think even I could fuck that up. I tried to anticipate what questions they would ask me, in which order. Would I like a toy? Would I like ketchup?

When they asked me if I wanted mayo or ketchup on my fries, the unexpected option made me answer in the affirmative, without specifying which I preferred, pissing off the harried-looking girl behind the counter in the process. I could feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment, and I backed away from the counter, waving my hands and butchering an apology in my pidgin German.

I never went back to that McDonalds.

Like a diamond in the rough, I found a T-Mobile payphone on my way back to the hostel and I fed about ten euro in change into the machine until it finally connected me to Jack’s mobile. It rang out, and went to voicemail, and instead of leaving a message, I hung up the receiver, and burst into angry, embarrassed tears. I didn’t get any change back, either.

Wiping my face clean with the sleeve of my coat, I hurried back to the hostel, before I could make an idiot of myself in some new way. Still hungry, I raided the vending machine in the lobby, and sat on my bed eating out-of-date chips until Ilonka had returned. She took one look at my tear-stained face and unsatisfying dinner and bundled me into my coat and took me out to an Irish Pub around the corner for a pint of Guinness and something called a Blarney Burger.

“It will not always be so,” she reminds me sagely, as she steals a chip from my plate. And for a little while there, Ilonka is my hero. When I grow up I want to be just like her. We sing Cranberries songs together, and make the acquaintance of some chipper blokes from County Clare who are, of course, enamoured with Ilonka’s ethereal Eastern European beauty, and keep us plied with enough black stuff that I quite forget about the dizzying regret that has been eating me away inside for days.

But later that night, the weeping starts again, and it chips away, slowly but steadily, at my newfound regard for her. I get up for class early the next morning, head still throbbing from the previous night’s excesses, and leave her a note on her bedside table.

“It will not always be so.”

#fernweh #rachel writes

[rollzerox]

New One Shot Preview: Yona’s Birthday Yona & Hak scene

“Hak what’s this about?” Yona asked, slightly confused as he pulled her along.

 “Just something I thought you’d like to do.” Hak took her towards another booth that was near the river, where several tiny boats with lanterns were placed in memorial for those that had passed on. Mostly adults that were mourning the deaths of their parents were there along with several others that lost loved ones. “… I figured since you never got to be there for your father’s funeral this was at least something you could do… It’s not much of a birthday present but…”

 “Hak….” Yona felt tears filling her eyes at the thoughtful gesture from her bodyguard. She flushed and hugged him tightly.

 “Look I know why you were avoiding telling that idiot husband of yours about today, because of what happened last year. But at the same time I felt he could help so it wouldn’t be so painful…” Hak admitted, buying one of the boats with a lantern and helping the princess light it. “So he said he wanted to take you someplace to get your mind off everything and make it a happy time. Couldn’t blame him there.” He then looked at her seriously. “Princess… Nothing is going to happen to anyone today. I promise you. I won’t fail you like I did last year.”

 Yona frowned at that, tears floating down her cheeks as she shook her head. “… You didn’t fail me Hak, or father… There was no way you could have known what would happen that night…” she sighed, saying a pray before letting the little boat sail out into the water. “… Hak…. I never properly thanked you for saving me that night.” She said, staring off at the little boat which the lantern illuminated the water along with the moonlight from the night sky.

 “It’s my job, isn’t it?” Hak replied with a smirk, patting her shoulder.

 Yona shivered a bit, looking up at him a tad uneasy. She knew now that he had loved her for a long time, so long he didn’t even know when it started. But she always just saw him as a friend and felt guilty she never noticed his feelings until his outburst that day. That the reason he was by her side wasn’t just out of obligation to her father, but because he chose to and respected her. It wasn’t just his job that he was here, as he put it this was home for him. “… Thank you, Hak.” She choked, her tears still coming down like a waterfall. “… This baby is alive inside of me because of you.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach, feeling another kick from inside. “I’m just sorry I never-“

 “Let’s not bring that up again ok?” Hak sighed, shaking his head. “I told you that I don’t expect anything out of you, just that you know now. The best way you can make it up to me is to be happy, because that’s all I want princess. If that pervert is what makes you happy then so be it, I still say you made a mistake falling for that moron but that’s your choice that you have to live with.” He chuckled. “But just know that I’m here for you, always.”

 Yona choked another sob as she threw her arms around her guardian again, hugging him tightly. “… I wish father was here now… Even if he might be disappointed in me, or upset that I’ve completely gone against his wishes by taking up a weapon… I still wish that he could have…” she whimpered, burying her head into his chest.

 Hak frowned at the crying princess in his arms, he brushed a hand over her crimson hair, while scolding his heart that hammered away in his chest and broke at the same time, knowing that what he held here wasn’t his and never could be. But he’d buried his feelings for her long ago, it’s why he could hold together in situations like this, as long as she’d be happy. “… I think King Il would have been proud of what you’ve become… What you’ve done for this kingdom. He wouldn’t have agreed with everything, but I think you would have made him proud…. I wish he could see you now, and how strong you’ve become. You’re really cool, you know.”

 Yona blushed at that, smiling as she hugged him tighter. “Thank you, Hak…” she sniffed, grunting as she felt another kick from her baby, but this time closer to her front… And blinked when she felt Hak stiffen.

 “… Princess, what was that?” Hak blinked, looking down in confusion.

 “What was what?” the redhead was clueless as to what he meant.

 Hak’s hand was suddenly at her stomach, feeling around until he felt a kick from the child. “Oh… It’s that.”

 “HEY! W-w-what do you think you’re doing?!” Yona stammered, getting completely flustered at the way his hand was touching her so casually.

 Before the Thunder Beast could answer Jae-ha approached them. “My, my, I let you two run off alone and you get so daring already Hak! While I might not mind sharing I think my cute little wife might object to it…”

 “JAE-HA!!!” Yona shouted, blushing bright red.

 Hak gave the Ryokuryuu a death glare for that one, though he was blushing a bit. “Shut the hell up Droopy Eyes I’m not a pervert like you!”

#akatsuki no yona #akayona fanfic #akayona #yona of the dawn #jae-ha x yona #yonahak #hak #yona #princess yona #fanfic preview #I probably messed this up pretty bad I'm not the greatest with Hak #here's a hakyona moment for you guys to make up for my series XD #jaeyona

[freechoicedreamer]

Body and Soul (Ch. 9)

AO3

Opening Theme

*

“The individual inwardly cultivated feelings of helplessness and loneliness, for he lost touch with his more human dimension, failed to broaden his virtues, and thus became unable to interact with the same essential aspects of other people. It is this process that he calls social alienation, hidden behind one's personas, yet capable of exerting a sinister impact on Humanity. At the same time that man advances materially, he moves further and further from other beings. Thus, the longed-for freedom becomes a frightening trap from which he tries to escape through the conquest of financial resources and the war for power, through absolute passivity towards authoritarianism, or through the path of social conformism. Thus, man can pretend to own something, or to own someone, for in this way he feels that he is not alone. The psychoanalyst believes that acceptance of the other and his inner treasure, the practice of solidarity and working together, the exercise of brotherhood and the institution of social comfort can offer humanity a viable way out of this tragic situation created by man himself.”

(based on Erich Fromm’s Fear of Freedom)

*

Enchanted Mountains, Arendelle

The saying ‘You are not alone’ has never been so well applied to what Killian, Emma, Key, Emm, Liam and Milah are experiencing. Nested in a warm and friendly environment, to where they headed after the early morning meeting, they prepare to cross the underground rivers in an atmosphere filled with Love.  

In fact, a large group is gathered in the still private hall of Arendelle's Shelter, at Elsa's palace, sharing knowledge and bringing emotional comfort to the six bearers of Light, Peace and Love in the upcoming fight: one grandmother - Ruth; six parents - Wish Snow, Wish David, Snow, David, Alice and Wish Brennan; three brothers - Senior, Junior and Neal; two sisters-in-law - Wish Regina and Wish Ariel; two sons - Henry and Wish Henry; three daughters-in-law - Cindy, Violet and Robyn, two daughters - Alice and Hope; one granddaughter - Lucy; and lots of friends with their closed ones - Elsa, Gideon, Anna, Kristoff, Ingrid, Merlin, Belle, Rumple, Nemo, Ursula, Archie, Lily, Aunt Em, Dorothy, Gepetto, Granny, Red, Wish Granny, Wish Red, Wish Mulan, Blue, Wish Blue and… Luna and Missy.

...

"This - the company of people pulsating and radiating the purest love energy - is the most powerful preparation and support you could receive, my dear," Wish Snow explains, combing her daughter's golden hair.

Wish David, watching them from a sofa, smiles, impacted by the scene. "We've been watching you Emma, we've been loving you from afar, but being here, so close to you, being able to touch you again… it's such a privilege and honor, my little love... and knowing that you are pregnant with twins  that just reminds me of my brother and I and… I-, oh Sweet Honey Pie, my dear Emma, this is so wonderful…  I-..." He barely holds a sob before Emm reaches out to hug him, also crying. Circling them with her arms, Wish Snow struggles hard to speak, "its alright to cry, Charming and Emma, especially you, Emma, because of the hormones! Look, here is the plan: we do this now, we cry, while they haven't been born yet and we have time to cry because soon you and Killian, on Earth, and your father and I, in Heaven, will only have time to look after the two precious treasures. Never forget, dear daughter, that we will always find a way to send our spiritual protection to all of you."

"Right, right, your Majesty, great plan - you are the Boss, my love," W. David composes himself before standing up to walk away, leaving them back to their mother-and-daughter moment.

...

As the hours advances, the rapport between everyone also progresses and so do the preparations for an event that nobody knows yet when will happen. "We will sense it," Aunt Em/Athena and W.Snow/Zeus keep repeating like a mantra, despite the anxiety felt by some. "Patience is a Virtue," explains Rumple, in vain, to Anna...

Mama Alice has taken both Emmas to a corner of the huge hall where they lie on large pillows on the floor to receive magnetic passes applied by the healing and regenerating magic of Apollo channeled by her. Snow and Wish Snow, encouraged by Alice, have joined her and are, under the Emissary's guidance, applying Reiki-like passes to their daughters. "The more the merrier," Alice explains to the two zealous mothers.

Relatively close to them, in another side room of the grand hall, Nemo, Merlin, Gideon and Liam work on both Killians' prosthesis so that their batteries will be able to recharge magically.

"After the battle, Little Brothers," Liam insists on teasing them but they decided to pretend they don't care - and deep down they don't, "I still want to work a little harder on these prosthesis - to make them even closer to the originals, you will feel, practically, as if your hands were back to where they should never have left..."

"The original hands have been preserved by magic, did you know that?" Gideon tells Liam. “One of them I already have in my lab, the other one I suppose is tucked away in Wish Rumple’s Castle, if you have time, take a look. "

"I will, I will... you know, having the original hands is much easier," Liam replies, excited about the possibility.

"You know Liam," Killian speaks thoughtfully, "as painful and hard as it has been, in perspective it may not be correct to say that our hands should not have been cut off. That's because losing them was instrumental in the narrative that brought us all here..."

"Aye," Key agrees. "And after so many centuries, so many Destiny crossroads, so much suffering, so many vows of vengeance and piracy precisely because of you and, later, because of our left hands and, most importantly, because of Milah, who would say, Older Brother, but here we are, witnessing the birth of love between you and Milah..." he winks at Killian and they both smile at how Liam blushes.

“We are truly happy for you both, Liam,” Killian then assures him patting his back.

“You have no idea how much,” Key confirms thoughtful. “After all, now we see, it was indeed Milah's fate to find true love with a Jones, it's sort of a poetical irony, a plot twist written by the Fates…”

“I hope you are right Killian, and… Key,” Liam blushes even more, struggling a bit to admit his feelings, “she is really special - you knew that already, and beautiful, and passionate and... I hope especially for her you are right, she deserves eternal happiness and that came to her after finding Peace with her two Baelfires. But let me tell you, the rest in peace concept does not imply that we won't evolve or that changes won't happen. Proving that, now there is this new development..." he sighs shyly, "she got close to a true love, that first time with you, but we all know how much it wasn't meant to be in the big picture. Now this time… though I must let you know that it's different, somehow, in comparison to when we fall in love on Earth...  That is, despite our temporary physical bodies we are just souls, spirits, Milah and I. Of course, the essence of Love, in other words, True Love, would happen for us, something meant to be, whenever or wherever dimensional plan we might be, therefore what is happening between us is really true in a deep sense. But as souls, for us, falling in love now is more… subtle, serene, it's a deep calmness though quite intense and elevated on its own.” He finally opens up and ends up laughing with his brothers in a more relaxed way.

Approaching them, Brennan, and the other Liams - Junior and Senior, complete the family team, as they continue with Gideon, Merlin and Nemo, to improve the  prosthesis mechanisms, now impregnated with magic.

"Hey Guys! I want to register this moment," Wish Ariel, self declared the photographer of the family,  gets close to the group, taking pictures of the Joneses Men.

"Love is in the air…" turning his head slightly to whisper, Brennan confides to Nemo who smiles back and nods.

…

As Aunt Em and Belle intended, right after lunch, with the empathy brought by the loving environment, everyone is already openly discussing the strategies for Day 6 - without even realizing it, a silent, tacit understanding has established that the fight between couples will take place within around 48 hours.

Hope circles from group to group, excitedly running with Missy in the huge hall where everyone is seated. Luna preferred to stay on Lucy's lap while she talks intently with her parents and Neal.

"We should ask for permission for Roland and Coralline to come here," Lucy argues, "because we were outlining an activity suggested by Aesop that could be attached to Em's orchestra alignment performance. We knew from the call for musicians in all realms that she planned to work on arranging a song and would do some online rehearsals, at first, with the selected musicians - mostly young adults. Then we thought and talked about that and… we believe that preteens and teens could contribute with an act created and performed by us. We have had a lot of ideas and inspirations... "

"Yes," Neal confirms, "and I'm feeling a lot of inspiration here in the Enchanted Mountains, as if my magic is being bred by an ancestral energy related to this place - I mean, something coming from the land that has been here for ages. That is, before Arendelle moved here bringing its own ancestral energy to add to the one that already existed, something impregnated in deeper roots... I really need to talk to Blue and Gideon about this feeling of mine."

"So let's talk to Em about the preteens and teens’ activities and to David about the permits," Cindy suggests.

"And Daddy," Lucy turns to Henry. "I think we need your help with the texts we were researching on our Shelter. During a quick visit that King Fergus gave us, he suggested that we rehearse a sort of jester on top of a text. And Aesop suggested we look for a text like a metaphor for what we're living in. But what we have done so far is getting too long, we need to define the narrative and summarize the story better..."

"I'm available to help you," Henry strokes his daughter's hair. "Perhaps the magic pen can help, it is inspiring for writing summaries of complex narratives."

…

At the end of Day 4, more Emissaries and friends have joined the party : summoned by Emm after having agreed to expand the Alignment Performance Program, Fergus, Aesop, Marian and Roland responded promptly, as well as Split Regina, Wish Robin and Coralline. In addition, at the requests of Gepetto and Roland - which resulted in an excellent contribution to the youth group - two members of the Arendelle Teens Shelter, August Pinocchio and Anastasia, also joined the creative group.

…

Having had dinner in the Shelter refectory, they are all back to their Hall, organized in eight working teams: The Savior; The Aligner; The Survivors; The Canals’ Crossing; The First Battle; The Castle Unlocking; The Army Arrival; The Final Battle.

Indifferent, in a direct sense, to all activities, throughout the day Hope, Luna, and Missy have taken several naps on the cushions, placed especially for them in a quieter corner of the Grand Hall, alternating their naps with being extremely alert and awake. Mainly from their dreams they witnessed the unfolding of a memorable day in diverse conversations...

...

"Emma," Marian got close to the trio formed by David, Snow and their daughter, "before Wish Snow comes to apply Zeus's passes on you - they will be important to enhance your lightning magic power - I want to offer you a piece of advice. Make maximum use of this friendly atmosphere surrounding you. As a Savior, you must work to internalize the feeling and energy of Family in a broad, all-encompassing sense: the Human Family where everyone is joined by the feeling of equality - equal rights and access to happiness, which explains your deep sense of Justice. Human Fraternity is the basis of your power as a Savior, my dear…"

...

"Henry," Hope called her brother. "Yeah, my little sister?" Henry bent to become at eye level with her.

"Watch your Pen!!" She smiled, enigmatic, already running away.

"What the hell?!" Henry asked, but soon got his answer, in the form of a fresh new riddle:

"Through the Elders' drums, Freedom. Through the Youngers' dreams, Legend. Through the Moon, Wolf. Through the Eyes, Soul."

Smiling, Henry closed the book, searching for his daughter and her friends . Wish Red and Red, wearing their magic hoods but sensing the energies under their skins, also joined them.

…

"Father, Mother," Gideon and Elsa approached Rumple and Belle already blushing before starting to speak. "You know that what Elsa and I are living is new but we feel it is true as in… a true love. So it is forever and, then… we wanted your formal blessing for our union before you go back to the Elysium Fields and…"

"We have just talked to my aunt, Ingrid, and she loved the idea," Elsa explained, also blushing. "We still need to figure out our living arrangements, even so our castles are relatively close but we have our duties and, you know how these things are, don't you?"

Smiling at their display of shyness, Belle smiled warmly with affection. "You two are so cute!! Of course  we will bless you. Hopefully everything will happen as we believe they will but we have a war to win first. Let's focus on that!"

"Gideon, you mother is representing the god of War!! Would you be able to imagine greater irony than that?" And with Rumple's joke they all relaxed and ended up in a family hug .

…

"Killians," Emma called her pirate and his twin.

"Aye, Swan."

"Archie has just made contact- he and Zorro are temporarily in charge of the Teleport Center, by the way, because Chynna and the Dragons are in a field trial experiment for capturing invasive souls. So, he  wanted to notify that five elders, Shamans according to them, from the Land without Magic, have just arrived at the Dragons' Castle declaring they came to the United Realms after receiving a call for help from Mother Earth. Ah! They teleported themselves using their own magic and seem to be speaking the truth. Archie explained that he doesn't have any technical means for detecting a glamour spell or any other kind of magic trick, but he is good on human psyche and for him the five men are being honest. They know about the Aligner existence, apparently, because they asked about her whereabouts. Then, Archie has asked permission for giving them Arendelle's coordinates - they don't need assistance with the teleport."

"That's intriguing… Have you talked to your father, love?"

"Not yet, he is busy in a call to Agrabah but we have autonomy to decide..."

"I think we should grant them the free pass because here we have plenty of people able to detect any magic trick... you said they call themselves Shamans, don't you?  I suspect they are coming for the Alignment Ceremony," Key proposed, already looking for his wife."

...

"I'm not an expert, this is more an Alice's - perhaps also Ruth's - thing," Ingrid explained to Anna and Kristoff as she touched Anna's belly, "but I'm sensing a little boy on the way…" she smiled at the joy in the new parents to be faces.

"A boy!!" Kristoff exclaimed in awe.

And the strong blond man lifted Anna's apparently fragile body and spun her around at the sound of her giggles. Suddenly realizing she was pregnant, he stopped her in the air and immediately set her back down with the care of the one who carries the most fragile Chinese porcelain.

'I'm still myself, Kris," she composed herself, smiling, "I won't break..."

Merlin neared Anna and Kristoff's celebration exchanging glances with Ingrid, as if talking telepathically with her. "Love will always be victorious, my friend," Ingrid comforted him and, excusing themselves with Anna and Kristoff,  the two walked away, continuing their silent conversation, arm in arm, leaving the young couple dreaming, enraptured by the prospect of parenting .

In the middle of their conversation, David and Milah approached Ingrid and Merlin with a message to Merlin sent by Lancelot, who was in charge of the Security in the prison where the revived clones were being kept. It all happened discreetly and quickly. Without alarming, with acknowledgment of just a few people and Emissaries, Merlin and Milah went away in two secret missions, promising to be back as soon as possible.

...

"She is very excited about the theoretical advances that Gideon has made after Rumple and Belle showed him where they kept his notes and her books with  studies on the separation body-soul." Split Regina and Wish Robin shared the news about Regina with Henry, Cindy and Wish Regina.

"When did you visit her?" Cindy asked.

"Today, right after lunch," W. Robin replied. "The doctor, Whale, has promised to discharge her tomorrow morning, "just one more night at the hospital," he said, "because I value my sanity and this woman will still drive me insane from insisting about going back to work!""

"Typical of my mom and you..." Henry whispered, smiling tenderly at Split Regina. "Cindy, she should stay with us, we'll find a way to host her. In both houses - ours and hers - there's a working shelter, but she needs us..."

"Sure, the rooms in the house are being used but our closet is so large that it can very well accommodate a single bed, a bedside table and a small desk without taking away our privacy, and our clothes can be stored in suitcases," Cindy agreed already thinking on practicalities, "it's better she stays with us even by the proximity to the hospital. I imagine Whale will want her heart to be returned  to her chest there... not to mention that I have a feeling Operation B&S is about to be completed soon."

"With total success, I hope, Split Regina wished, looking at  her daughter laughing with her friends.. .

…

"And what are the two Captains Charming laughing about?" Liam and Milah, she already back from her mission, asked, approaching Killian, David, Key, and W. David.

"Nothing in particular," David replied, "just remembering some of the adventures Killian and I have lived together, such as the time we followed a spell recipe!"

"Join us," Key invited them showing the rum flask."We have rum and room for two more!"

…

"After W. Blue presented Fa with a magic wand whose sole power is to transform Jiminy back into human form and then back into cricket, the two became impossible!" W. Red revealed.

"Damn you, they didn't tell us anything..." Granny commented to W. Granny and Gepetto.

"Ah…" W. Mulan smiled, "deep down they are shy. But watching them sunbathing on the porch with their eyes closed and holding hands as they sway on the porch swing is like looking at a beautiful painting…"

...

From the center of the circle, Emm, Fergus and Aesop instructed the attentive audience comprising Lucy, Neal, young Alice, Robyn, August, Anastasia, Wish Henry, Violet, Red and Wish Red about the rehearsals of which they will take part in the next day.

…

"Killian, Key," W. Snow approached them, seizing their chance to be alone. "This is me, speaking as a mother, but also in the name of Zeus. It will be your nature, as Survivors... Poseidon, through Rumple, can explain to you in more detail how that works - talk to him about it later, if you feel the need of a better understanding of technatilities - but as I was saying, it will be up to you to survive and protect your wives. Yours is the defensive magic. Your wives have the more offensive magic, especially the Savior. The Aligner will stay behind because that's the natural order of their powers: one ensures Happy Endings/Beginnings and the other ensures Happy Livings. I have applied special magnetic passes to both which enhanced their lightning strikes - combined, acting together, they may be able to disintegrate souls just like Zeus' Crystal used to do. And Key, don't worry, the babies are totally safe and protected, surrounded by special spells. Your mother, and Apollo, have already made sure of that. So... you both will ensure that your Emmas survive the attacks that they will suffer."

"I see, but… Now, you try to see from our angle. We are practical beings, you know," Key argued and turned to Killian, "and as our mother uses to say, ours is a Mathematician's mind. But we are also experienced captains. That means that despite being able to dig into conceptual abstractions, we need to know how the concrete applications they are meant for will be implemented…"

"Exactly, precisely. In other precise and exact words,  what do we have to do, more specifically? Please?" Killian then asked exasperated.

"Always stay close to them. Your power lies in your intuition and it only manifests with full intensity in the Present. Therefore, neither Zeus nor any oracle is so powerful to anticipate your action. But know that you will know what to do, acting in perfect timing - this our Oracles have foreseen."

Both Killians nodded, circumspect.

...

At the end of the long day Elsa offered the palace for all to spend the night and they thought it would be good to accept the offer, remaining united for more hours in that same place - "it will resemble a large camping area" , someone remembered. They were deciding where to spread more pillows and blankets across the floor when Midas/Morpheus and Farah/Demeter arrived sharing the news: they had sensed, in the Dream Realm and in the Vegetable Realm, the vibrations of  strongly dark activities coming from not too far from where they are. Probably from Wish Rumple’s castle.

“We suspect that the four villains have already managed to break the connection between Wish Pan and Wish Cruella and their clones, which allowed the souls of Pan and Cruella to incarnate in the clones,” Midas tells them, “which would be the only reasonable way to explain the extremely intense and unusual vibrations of highly distorted and perverted activities identified by Morpheus and his two brothers affecting and interfering in the Dreams Realm - with potential for disturbing everybody's sleep tonight, besides creating a negative vibration for the Animals, Vegetables and Mineral Kingdoms.”

"That makes sense, for them managing to break the connection" Rumple mumbles, "all they had to do was to find in Wish Rumple's castle the notes and books similar to mine and Belle's and develop their technique based on them."

“Well then, our response to that must be with stronger and more intense activities of Light, Peace and Love,” Ingrid says, discreetly winking at Ruth but her gesture did not escape the attentive gossip supporters (as Henry had labeled them) Killian, Key, David and Cindy. Immediately after, Ingrid asks Elsa to call the string quartet musicians that, as Elsa and Emm had told her earlier that day, were housed in the palace’s shelter.

…

Short after Ingrid's suggestion…

“Mommy, Daddy,” Hope, waking up from another nap, calls her parents, “I was with Luna and Missy flying over there, in the sky, and they asked to tell you that when the North Wind blows wide… no, that was not what they said, please, help me Daddy, It was not 'wide', so then what…?”

“Hmm... Would be wildly, my little pirate?” Killian tries to guess.

“Aye! that, Papa! when the North Wind blows wildly and the snow falls, then you, Mama, Uncle Key, Aunt Emm, Uncle Liam and Aunt Milah must go.”

“Very well", Rumple, approaches Hope turning to everyone watching the little girl while winking at her - she giggles.

“We have our clue, Dearies.” Many of those present stop what they were doing and look surprised after hearing the peculiar pronoun, once favored by the former Dark One. Rumple smiles sideways, pleased by the intended effect, that is, to draw everyone's attention. “Listen carefully, everyone, we know what we have to do, and right now, what we have to do is relax and… dance!” He then signalizes a command for the string quartet, already positioned high in the balcony, to play...

As the music sounds in the grand hall, everybody - old couples, new couples, old dancers, young dancers, in pairs, in a solo - start to waltz, lulled by the harmonic and smooth vibrations. Blue and Wish Blue, morphing into little fairies, flutter around spreading pixie dust, and even Hope, Missy and Luna flutter giggling, barking and meowing through the air, spreading their happiness - it's not known if Luna and Missy are flying by their own magic or by Hope's magic, but the fact is that the Light, Love and Peace emanating from the hall with all dancers and couples who, as the song advances, play of switching pairs in a choreography marked by grace and lightness, neutralize and overcome the negative effects generated by the two diabolic couples mating wildly nearby, at Wish Rumple’s Castle.

Enchanted Forest, Wish Evil Queen's Castle

While the main leaders were gathered in Arendelle, in one of the many fortresses isolated for hosting hibernating clones - 50 thousands in this case - the Shelter Guardians, Will Scarlet and his wife, Norah, spent the morning hearing weird noises and feeling goosebumps - despite the heating from all fireplaces and their bodies' isolation provided by the rubber clothes.

"Might be those Souls that crossed the path to Earth. I bet that, somehow, the shelter isolation had holes and they got in through them. Time to ask for help, Will, try to contact the Dragon…"

"Why him in particular, Norah?"

"Oir bha e gu math coibhneil nuair a bha e an seo agus a ’tabhann cuideachadh nam biodh feum againn air rud sam bith…"

(*Because he was very kind when he came here and offered help if we needed something…)

"Norah, chan eil e gu feum a bhith a ’bruidhinn mu dheidhinn Albannaich Gàidhlig - ma tha na fuaimean sin air an adhbhrachadh le taibhsean chan e an iomlaid cànain a chuireas an t-eagal orra."

(*Norah, it's no use talking in Gaelic scots - if these noises are really caused by ghosts it won't be the language change that will scare them off.)

"Alright, alright, but call him, please, Will."

"That I'll do, then, luv…"

"I love you, Husband!" Norah sends him a kiss through her veil.

…

"What is that?" Asks Will to Maleficent, who flew there with Jiao-long, Chynna and Lily (leaving Zorro and Archie in charge of the Teleport Center) upon receiving Norah and Will's call for help .

"A device, kind of a magic trap developed by Chynna under her father's supervision as soon as the news regarding the souls invasions were confirmed. It hasn't been tested yet - so we are not sure about its efficacy. I'll skip the more technical details but It requires three dragons - flying counter clockwise in a circle holding these sonars emitting a frequency out of your spectral hearing range, and three people on the ground, holding the magic traps."

"So you need our help at ground level," Will realizes.

"Exactly, and that's why Chynna came with us, to complete the triangle. If these devices work as expected, every time we need to use them we will have to make sure that there are at least three people available to operate the traps. And I guess we will need to use them a lot,  given the number… they said that thousands of souls had escaped, remember?"

…

"Hold on tight! Whatever happens, don't undo the triangulation down there, open the lid of the box when we get to the top and only close it when we land back!!" Jiao-long shouts at Will, Chynna and Norah, positioned outside the castle in a triangle-shaped formation, as he Mal and Lily, already morphed into dragons, begin a low-flying spiraling upward to the tips of the castle spears, with the sonars slung around their necks.

...

"What is going on here?" Milah asks Norah, getting out of a ray of light and intending to enter the castle.

"We're trying to trap the rebel souls that managed to enter the castle!" Chynna shouted, from one of the other three vertices, high enough to be heard by Milah.

"Oh, I see…" Milah/Persephone answers, looking at the three dragons in flight and figuring out their experiment.

Shouting back she lets them know that she will enter with two people, about to  arrive from Agrabah - "don't worry, we will be properly protected to avoid skin contact with the clones."

She then explained that they would use a locating spell to find a specific clone but promised to work without disturbing their soul-trapping experiment. Next, she contacted Charom telepathically, asking him to hold on at the banks of the Styx and wait, with the soul he was about to bring to Earth, until receiving her green signal to continue.

…

Running in parallel and without any major unforeseen events, both operations ended successfully. Taking advantage of Charom's arrival, Milah managed to coordinate with him and the Dragons a third operation: the return of all souls (captured by the new devices just tested and approved for use wherever necessary) to the Underworld, where Persephone and Arthur would make sure to keep them locked as prisoners.

Finally, with Jiao-long's help, the localized clone was carefully transported to Gideon's lab, along with the two travelers that came  from Agrabah. The two urns, brought by Charom, were taken there by Milah, Merlin and his companions: gradually, everyone and everything getting ready for next day's "experiments"...

Storybrooke, Tremaine-Mills home

Dawn brought with it the need for changes, including the move of those who were gathered in Arendelle to their next destinations: united by the common goal but aware of the diversity of positioning and strategic actions. So after saying goodbye to Lucy and her friends, who followed Emm, Fergus, Aesop, Wish Red, Red, the five shamans and several musicians of all realms to Westside Storybrooke, Henry Mills and Cinderella Tremaine returned home from where they would await Regina's arrival.

Sitting in front of his laptop, Henry updates his diary, registering random thoughts he might use later in his new book, while Cindy, by his side, coordinates permits to transport a lot of people to Westside Storybrooke.

Henry Mills' Personal Log

"Day 5 of the Emissaries on Earth

We are waiting for her return from the hospital, my mother… the one who raised me in this same house where I live with my wife and daughter, this same house created by her, then, dark magic, fruit of her own particular mess. And despite her messy mind, then, she managed to love me and raise me well perhaps because of what happened out of the bubble, where she tried so hard to keep me in, got out of her tight control and triggered what has always been meant to be...

From the perspective of Time, today I can understand how my True Believer nature played a leading role in my peculiar childhood - it saved me, ensured my sanity. When everything seemed confusing because the references around me were subjected to a Frozen Time and did not provide the support expected from a 'reference' supposed to guide the physical, psychological and emotional growth I was experiencing, my True Believer's nature came in my help and rescued me. Somehow I believed, somehow I knew that sooner or later it would all make sense, that I would have to wait and, when necessary, act. I was not able to rationalize this way, but I sensed deep down that there was a higher mechanism in motion, that the gears of Time were moving even when apparently broken (to everyone in Storybrooke except me), stopped by a dark curse that I wasn't, then, aware of.

Emotional references were the most confusing, on second thought, because despite living fake biographies and characters, the cursed people surrounding me, involuntary actors in a forced role-play where their true identity was subtracted - except for my mother, of course - preserved in some sleeping corner of their mind and heart the essence of what they never ceased to be. The most ironic thing was that I relived the story with shifted roles where my Lucy, another True Believer, was the one aware of a parallel reality subtracting our true lives - except for the two Belfrays and Goethel, initially. My grandpa Rumple was always quick to 'awake' from the curses, though...

But back to my childhood, my step mother, Regina, did love me in the best way she could, I knew she cared about me and, sometimes, with display of tenderness, but she was not an adept of affectionate words - I came to know them when I got old enough to go to School and attended Mary Margareth's classes: that was when the gears really started to incipiently be prepared to move. With her I learned to use the emotional language as a way of expressing feelings and emotions, as well as being a channel of connection with other people. I learned that, on many occasions, to understand each other in interpersonal relationships is sufficient an expression of affection, emotional, feeling or, in other words, showing what we have inside. My grandmother introduced me to the world of affections and to The Book… "

"Have you listened to any word of my question?"  Cindy smiles at him.

"Ah!? Oh, no… Sorry… I was too concentrated. Could you repeat it, please?"

"I asked at what time the Ceremony will start. People are asking..."

"Ah… I'm not sure and I guess nobody is, yet. I know I will join the rehearsals, taking the two Grannys with me, after lunch. I guess it will be around 9:00 pm. From a technical point of view, Nemo and the Dragon need the whole day to instal special repeaters in the telecom towers, replacing the ones in operation throughout the entire United Realms and also distribute new big screens in all shelters. For this task, helping Lily and Mal, Phileas Fogg and Passepartout will provide aerial support piloting their two airships, while Killian and Key will provide maritime and river support piloting their two Jolly Rogers. Not to mention that Red and W. Red will need the whole day to gather their pack and only then they will define their best timing - they need a specific Full Moon timing. And, of course, the artists and production staff will need hours of rehearsal…"

"Oh, I see, I will answer with a generic around 9:00pm  then. Thanks, my love, go back to your log..."

"You're always welcome, Honey."

…

Sighing slowly, Henry reads the last paragraphs before continuing...

"Deep down, when she was alone with me at home, my mother expressed her affection behind her façade, her persona, her Storybrooke Mayor profile, hiding her other persona, her Evil Queen mask. That is, if we define affection as all expressions that show the other how we feel when we are together, but also far away, or the desires we have for that other - she showed that to me.

However, no doubt that as a kid I have not been taught by her to communicate this way, because often she did not use this affective communication - as if she did not consider it important, even though it is actually fundamental to human relationships.

After the curse was broken, along the years that followed it, my mother and I perfected the use of affectionate words in our relationships that are full of feeling, soul, desire, content and meaning. Robin Hood represents in my mom's life the moment she really started to overcome her difficulty of expressing affection. He was her professor of showing also with words, putting out what she felt, making their relationship different and special. Her change after him was remarkable, I know she found it difficult, weird, ridiculous and even unusual to do so, because she often learned with her mother not to show what she had inside and to hide her feelings because she thought this would be a sign of weakness…

My Mom, Regina, is still healing from her traumas and difficulties based on a misconception of emotional hardness and a lack of emotional upbringing through which she should have taken the basis for teaching me to express my affections and to manage my emotions. I was lucky in finding my other Mom, Emma. I was lucky in rescuing my true origin - that prevented me from knowing the pain for not expressing myself.

By one side, my upbringing based on wrong beliefs kept screaming in my mind that by being insensitive and ignoring my feelings I would be less exposed to the pain and suffering that they can cause us. But on the other side, Emma Swan taught me the contrary (not always voluntarily), especially when she blocked her emotions and raised her defensensive mechanisms and walls. With her I learned that human reality is quite different, for pain is precisely what we feel when we do not express what we feel or when it is not communicated to us. With her I learned the power of affectionate words and we broke the first dark curse because of that. If I were taught to use affectionate words from early childhood, I would have known earlier how powerful they are, both by hearing and uttering them. They have the power to show our inner self and to bond with the inner self of the other."

Closing and opening his eyes, Henry turns to his wife, his Cinderella, with an urge to express the wave of love he felt for her, all of a sudden.

“I want you well, my wife, mother of my daughter... In fact, I love you dearly, Ella. Have I told you, today, that I feel special when I'm with you? Then, know that I'm happy by your side and that… you are the most special person I know!!"

Smiling her brightest smile, Cindy responds with a curious "what is going on, Henry Daniel Mills?" while reaching out to kiss him passionately.

"Hmm…" he answers savoring their hot kisses, "I felt an urge to express my feelings for you with words. Want to try this same exercise? Tell back what you are feeling…"

After thinking, foreheads touching, she replies with a smile, "okay… I feel good when you hear me."

"Well, I feel important when I hear you," he gives her back.

“Henry, I am at peace when I am near you...”

“I want to continue with you...”

“I always want to be able to count on you...”

“I want the best for you...”

"I want to hug you..."

"I feel loved by you...”

“I feel spoiled and… I think I've heard your phone, Henry, must be Whale.”

...

Regina is already settled in her improvised room, watching from her bed Henry and Cindy sharing a desk, both working on their laptops. "Updating your log, Henry?" She asks him with interest.

"Yeah… more a bit of musing rather than entering new data." He answers. "I was wondering about the power of healing coming from the power of affectionate words…"

"Ah, that, I like the sound of that: affection. I have thought a lot about this theme, lately… When we express our affection, we release emotions that sometimes overwhelm or block those who do not express them. If I only have known that earlier…" she sighs thoughtfully.

"Mom, loving words heal and unite those who use them, releasing the painful emotions and feelings that were at the root of silent suffering. Therefore, I want, I need you to know that I love you."

"We all love you, Regina." Cindy reinforces Henry's declaration, as they stand up, heading to Regina's corner for hugging her affectionately.

Enchanted Mountains, Gideon's Castle

Fortunately, the night passed in relative quiet, especially after Farah and Jasmine arrived in the private wing of Gideon's Castle. Only with their arrival did Aladdin finally breathe a sigh of relief since he could see with his own eyes that his beloved was indeed more flushed and restored from the sickness due to her pregnancy. His mother-in-law indeed took on the responsibility of treating her daughter with mysterious teas made from the herb mix that only she knew. "Trust me," Farah had told him, but even then his worry was inevitable.

Despite the relief, the major concern shared with Lancelot, which kept him company at night watch, remained. Few things scare Aladdin - a fearless man with self-esteem regained after healing from his guilt for cutting his fate as a Savior. But spending the night making sure that the two urns, brought by Milah,  containing two newcomer souls from the Underworld remained closed and untouched was too much. "Worse than being careful not to let a genius escape his lamp," he spent the night thinking.

To further increase insomnia, the presence of two prisoners, Wish Felix, whom he brought, and a cloned Sherazade, brought by David, Lancelot and Merlin, was more than too much. Particularly, the fake Sherazade, sedated under the effect of a soothing pass applied by Merlin, was the last straw to spill over the glass of courage. The knowledge of Nimue's presence, though anesthetized, was too disturbing for the alert minds of Lancelot, Guinevere (who arrived later to sympathize with her husband), Aladdin and Jasmine.

"The real Sherazade would entertain us by telling stories…" Jasmine whined, missing her cousin and best friend.

Despite the worry, Guinevere and Jasmine managed to relax and sleep because, fortunately, Farah stayed with them after going briefly to Arendelle to bring Midas with her for the nocturne vigil. Alternating their night watch with little naps, the others remained alert ("they have magic power, that counts...", Aladdin assured himself thinking about the two Emissaries).

…

Gideon and Belle arrive first - it is still dark in the late October morning, and are immediately greeted by all night watchers, already having breakfast.

"Where are the others?" An anxious Aladdin asks.

“They are coming soon,” Belle answers.

"I told him there was no need to worry so much, I asked him to relax ," Farah explains to Belle telepathically, "but he didn’t listen. I'm learning to never ask to relax, straight away, someone that is in such a state of nerves…" she chuckles.

"I see you…" Aladdin quickly reacts with a smart remark to Belle and Farah. "You are talking about me, aren't you? I know you are…"

"He's smart." Belle notices.

"Very much, a good observer." Farah agrees. "No wonder my daughter fell in love with him: good heart, great mind…"

"Still gossiping about me, I see." Aladdin complains with a pout and Jasmine laughs.

Turning to Lancelot and the others, Belle finally explains, "Rumple is coming soon, he made a detour in Storybrooke, a quick visit to old friends of us… And I think that Merlin, Milah, Ruth, Alice and W. Snow will follow him with negligible delay."

"Where are you keeping the clones?" Belle asks Gideon, looking around in her son's Lab.

"Over there," he points to two narrow beds in the right corner near which another ray of light shines, bringing Ruth and Merlin.

"Good morning, everyone," she says with a calm smile, already sensing the atmosphere and sending soothing waves towards Aladdin's direction.

…

Rumple arrived soon after and they have already started to assemble the setup for running the first series of trials: the one for simultaneously breaking the connection between Wish Felix and his clone, thus allowing Felix's soul to incarnate in the liberated clone.

"The procedure to be followed is completely described in my old notebook, probably the same used by Wish Pan and Wish Cruella with their own clones," Rumple explains. "We must follow it carefully or the original, Wish Felix, will die. We just need to wait for Milah, we need her help in dealing with Felix's soul..."

"Wait no more," says Milah coming with Wish Snow out of another ray. "Let's do it! Where is the urn containing the first soul?”

"Here," Belle passes the urn to her.

…

Wish Felix and Felix are both awake, but still groggy. The experiment was successful and they are under Alice's, who arrived later, and Ruth's care.  

"Are you done with us? No more exams? Now what?" Felix questions them with a mix of perplexity and insecurity.

"You are both in healthy - both physical and psychological - conditions. We are done with the exams," Alice tells them. "Now you wait, as everyone else, to meet those two old friends of yours. That will happen tomorrow."

"As soon as my son, Liam, with the help of his wife, Milah, manages to break the protection spell that is keeping those Pans, friends of these Felixes, from being reachable," Alice completes in thought.

"Wife, hein?" Ruth giggles, telepathically.

"Let's be practical and name correctly what they are to each other, my dear… You see, they were meant to be anyway but, between you and me, you and Ingrid gave them a little help, didn't you? Or better rephrasing, your divine patrons gave them a little push, haven't they?"

"I won't say no to that…" Ruth smiles.

"Now I'll call my granddaughter. Her wife, Robyn, and her brother-in-law, Roland, are with her in Storybrooke, rehearsing for tonight's ceremony, but they were eager to know the result of this operation - Robin Hood's resurrection depends on it."

"It still depends on breaking the connection with Regina's heart, don't raise their expectations too much ," Ruth advises.

"I won't, they are aware of the other risks but deserve to hear these good news… They know that walking requires one step after the other."

…

The preparations for the second and most challenging trial, since they developed the procedure based only on old books of Belle’s collection, are in progress. Meanwhile, in a small room adjacent to the lab, Merlin and Sherazade, aka Nimue, talk in private.

"Want to know what really moved me and made me give up until screaming and begging to Lancelot for allowing me to talk to you again, Merlin? I'll tell you if you explain to me what you have done to regain your physical body. No trick, just curious."

"It’s simple. Actually, my physical body is temporary, soon I'll be less dense again and will be back to my ethereal - and eternal  - subtle body; a soul is what I am, Nimue."

"I see… I will tell you, then, as promised, the truth. When I called you, in prison, you submitted me to a lie detection test and you came to the conclusion that I was really giving up, I really wanted to get out of this body. This body is my real prison, not the cell you locked me in. Sherazade's body is a healthy body - she was a pretty woman, still is, I guess. But I don't fit in it, I don't feel it as I expected. Hell, I can even touch it, trying to pleasure myself but… I feel nothing. I’m not a block of ice, though, something inside me, a residual memory that never left me, still feels and misses what I've been longing for ages. Perhaps, the coldness is blocked by something that belonged to her, I’m not sure, I’ve been dead for so long… But I never forgot the feeling... Ever.

For centuries, as a Dark One, the first in a long lineage of Dark Ones, I've been trying to feel again what I miss so much, what I’ve been longing for, but it never happened. All the power that my dark magic gave me has never been able to make me feel it again. I remember the feeling, though, the memory remains. In my secular life I had so many lovers, I took part of so many orgies and, of course, I did feel a temporary pleasure, a physical orgasm, but something was always lacking… after each orgasm what came was always an emptiness, a void and like in addition, I wanted more, I always searched for another dose of the drug…

I thought that coming back to the physical world would change things. I’ve tried before, coming back, I mean. You know, when I used Dark Hook to kill you - you Merlin, the only man I truly loved.  And still do. There... there I said it. I love you. And I have, for millenniums, tried to feel again: to love and to be loved in the way we used to love each other... You have always been my true love and I hated you so much because of that. I hated you because you knew I would kill you, through Hook, and made it easier for me by starting to prepare the Dark course knowing that the final ingredient would be your own heart..."

"It was our Destiny, Nimue, I've never challenged the Fates."

'I know. I paid the price for learning the unfolding of your 'bits and pieces' of forsightings. But that happened so long ago, there is no way back for me now.

The fact is that I would do anything to get back to a living body again. I wanted to be able to get back to what I had with you. Perhaps things could be different if I inhabited a kind of Wish Nimue's clone, a kind of my own clone twice. I guess that would be better, maybe that would work. But in Sherazade’s body it is not working, not at all. Especially after you visited me in prison…

I know I’ll be sent back to Hell, to Tartarus, I’m aware of the consequences of what I’ve done. I’ve been too much in the dark side to nourish any kind of hope. I don’t hope. At all, but as I told you, I don’t care to be treated as a traitor by the other rebels, I don’t mind their judgment. Everything will be better than to live in this body.”

Someone knocks at the door but Merlin already knows who is there:  Wish Snow, channeling Zeus.

Asking telepathically for one minute more, Merlin looks into Nimue’s eyes. "It's time to go, Nimue. You have been for so long in the Dark side that for your soul there wouldn't be salvation anymore. But as they say, the most powerful magic that exists is Love. So, I ask you to never lose Hope. I know you need punishment, but you must know that there is no meaning for a punishment if it is not used as an instrument for redemption. Once upon a time you were not corrupted, once upon a time, your soul was not dark. Don’t lose hope, my love. You will rest for a while, maybe centuries, in the same urn that brought today another soul from the Underworld. You will be put under a kind of sleeping therapy and won’t suffer. You will undergo a long, very long therapy, but you will heal. The Nimue I knew and came to love still exists underneath the darkness that corrupted her soul, you have just proved that she is still there. Now, come with me.”

Standing up, Nimue takes his hand once more, and walks with him to the lab. “And to think that it all started because of a water goblet. It all started because I wanted to be immortal, just like you were, I wanted to drink a sacred water…” she smiles sadly.

Storybrooke, Brothers' Village

Leroy, as he prefers to be called, and W. Grumpy (“or simply Grumpy since my twin denied the name that registered our fight for love, humpf") got permission to marry Nova and Wish Nova shortly after the creation of the United Realms. Blue and Wish Blue finally agreed to allow the fairies, if they so desire, to date and relate sexually to whom and as they please without losing their magical powers - and their wings. With the weddings, and the move of the Wish dwarfs to Storybrooke, the 14 brothers built a village near the docks with 18 terrace houses. Three of the four extra houses were occupied by the sailors Smee, Wish Smee, and Kevin Smith and his wife, Laura, leaving only one empty house - “for our collective meals and meetings or eventual guests…”

…

"Could you please repeat - again - the riddle…?" Doc asks his twin, W. Doc, at the large breakfast table in the guest house.

"Okay, here I go again! Life is a grain of wheat who dies to be born as bread - from pixie dust we come, to pixie dust we will return ," W. Doc says what Henry's pen has written, the best and only clue they have, so far, that confirmed that their Pixie Dust mines are indeed the place for them to search for the Earth end in the Magic Fountain connection.

"The riddle reminds me," Smee speaks, "that I was going to have another slice of cheese and that, of course, requires more bread. So," and then he turns to Sleepy with a grin to ask mischievously, "could you be kind enough to pass the bread, please?"

"Once a mouse…" Leroy mumbles to be heard only by Nova, who discreetly kicks his legs from below the table.

"Everybody fixated on the Pixie Dust part..." Kevin wanders, "but have you ever thought that maybe the missing secret information concerns wheat and bread?"

"Yes ..." W. Nova agrees, "this part is still mysterious to me..."

“I think….” W. Happy smiles, “that I get it: Life is a grain of wheat means the seed of Life…”

“Yeah…” W. Sleepy agrees, dreamily, “and then, when the grain is born it becomes wheat!”

Dopey, then, stands up and throws himself on the ground, mimicking someone dying.

“I get it,” W. Bashful explains, “to become bread… the wheat has to dye, then it will live again as a bread.”

“A delicious one, by the way,” W. Smee speaks with a full mouth, winking at them, and making all laugh.

“The circles of Life are eternal - that is the meaning of the riddle,” Kevin concludes.

“Nova,” Sneezy turns to his sister-in-law to ask, “what exactly makes - or used to make, the gods immortal?”

“You see,” she answers, “according to one of the most ancient perceptions, immortality was granted by eating a specific nutriment. The food of immortality is related to beautiful gardens and trees of the Olympus that produce sublime fruits - ambrosia - or some special nutriment inaccessible to humans. What we know for sure is that the  gods ate ambrosia drinking nectar, both prepared with a sacred water provided by the Youth Fountain. Both words, ambrosia and nectar, mean one thing: immortality.”

"You are partially right, Deary,” Rumple’s voice come from a ray of light from which he materializes in the room.

Standing up, Leroy and Grumpy start to panic, preparing to scream and run because of the ex-Dark One unannounced visit, but the kind smile of the Emissary, radiating a warm energy of peace and love calms them immediately and they sit down again.

“Who are you?” Laura Smith asks. “If you came in peace, have a seat with us,” she invites him, already making room for him in their bench.

“Thank you, but I’ll be brief, I'll be working soon at my son’s castle, the one that used to be my castle when I was alive. I really need to be there very soon, we will carry out important experiments regarding breaking the connection between the hibernating clones and their original bodies. You see, I’m Rumpelstiltskin, ex-Dark One,” and he smiles at Leroy and Grumpy. “I’m actually dead but, as you already must have heard, I’m temporarily on Earth as an Emissary of Poseidon, the god of the Seas, Rivers, Horses and Earthquakes.”

‘Wow,” that is a lot of attributes, you - that is, your Patron,  must be quite busy,” Doc remarks.

“He is, and he asked me to visit you, that’s why I’m here. You were wondering about ambrosia and nectar… the gods have both and a combination of them. The ingredients for preparing them, including a special honey produced in Persephone’s garden at Olympus, require - all of them, Water. Not any kind of water, but - as you know - the one coming from the Youth Fountain.”

“You said you are the God of the Rivers, don’t you?” W. Doc asks.

“Exactly. Listen, let’s go straight to the point as we are running against time. What Wish Pan and Wish Cruella did, instructed by Cruella who, in the Underworld, stole an ancient scroll and a book, was to cut the sacred spiritual connection between Earth and the Olympus. She instructed them to perform a ritual at the banks of an underground river, in the Enchanted Mountains, that broke the chain. To restore the connection a similar ritual must be performed by the same persons - or entities. In other words, only those who unplugged it are able to plug it again.”

"But that means all our effort, one whole day searching in vain for a Fountain was meant to be useless, so much noise for nothing ..." Leroy grumbles.

"On the contrary, Leroy," Rumple intervenes. "Your effort will be rewarded if you do what I am going to say - and in this part the contribution is much more mine than Poseidon's who, like you, had concluded that the problem was insoluble. My ability to find loopholes was extremely fortuitous and made us find the way out of this maze. Well, here's the map of Maine's water resources." And with a gesture of Rumple a map of Maine appears on the table.

"Your Pixie Dust Mines have showed you new trails of water that you have been tracking - and all of them have ended up in dry fountains. That’s because you were not the ones that performed the unplugging ritual. The Mineral World is trying to help us by creating these trails but they don’t last for too much and dry soon. However, as water always finds its way out, new streams will keep appearing in your mines. Next time you go there, that is, today, after breakfast, you will be prepared. For the connection to be restored you will have to track the streams of water with a new approach.” And at that, he magically brings a small trident and gives it to Kevin. “Here, take this with you, as sailors, you four must go with the dwarfs and the fairies - you too, Laura. Why you, sailors? Because your connection with this mini-trident will be stronger.”

“As soon as you get to the stream end, you use the Trident to touch the water: a new Fountain will spring its magic waters then.  Here is the loophole: what has been unplugged can only be plugged by whom performed the first ritual. But that doesn’t prevent anyone - us, or better saying, you, to create a new connection, one that hasn’t been unplugged because it didn’t exist before. This trident is a miniature of Poseidon’s trident and is impregnated with enough power to energize the water, to create a new Fountain on Earth. Immediately after touching the water, the Fairies, here on Earth, together with the Lilac Fairies, at Olympus, will fly over the waters to spread their Pixie Dust over them. The Mineral Elemental will help, they are on the alert, waiting for you. Good luck, Dearies!” Rumple smiles mischievously, content with the effect his dearies still have on people and disappears, heading to Gideon’s castle.

“What are we waiting for?” Happy stands up, already picking up his coat and enchanted ax.

“We are going, we are going,” Grumpy mumbles also preparing to go to their mines. “I only hope it works, this time…”

...

This time it works.

East-side Storybrooke, Multi-use Orchestra and Stage Room

Time is indeed Elastic, otherwise one single day wouldn't be enough for all the work that had to be done. And worked hard, all day towards the Ceremony at night, they have. The meticulous planning defined the day before was a key enabler for allowing them to achieve their goal. Seen from afar, the frantic pace of people resembled a swarm of bees in random agitation. However, as bees in their over-organized colonies, seen 'closely', there was a coordinated ordering where their individual activity complemented each other.

...

Although not quite ready for the purpose it has been intended, the Multiuse Orchestra and Stage Room was quickly adapted to accommodate all Alignment Ceremony preparation activities - in addition to the ceremony itself. To this end, there were taken to the new building, located on the outskirts of Eastside Storybrooke (aka Chinese Village), a great number of furniture, musical instruments, fabrics and materials for making native costumes and headdresses, real-time recording and broadcasting equipment, sound and lighting equipment, and whatever it took to accomplish in less than 10 hours of hard, coordinated work, the most important ceremony before the battle against the two Pans and the two Cruellas. (News from Nature elementals came that the two couples, also in ritualistic preparation, had spent the night before and apparently continued in the morning in a wild mating that involved sacrificing animals and plants).

Originally, the Rehearsal and Stage rooms had been designed by Emm to be part of the Music College complex, a project she had been developing. Initially, she had considered using some of her parents' castle halls, adapted as Chamber Music, Choral and Orchestra rooms, but was eventually convinced by the arguments of Storybrooke architects, most closely connected to the Land without Magic's architectural advances. “Believe us, the acoustic and sound effects we can achieve by building new facilities using state-of-the-art technological resources are vastly superior to those obtained in the palace halls adapted for this same purpose," they explained to her.

...

Throughout the day the running was intense. Backstage with proof of clothing, makeup tests, diverse rehearsals, editing of texts, adjustments and tuning of instruments and voices... Amid all this, Hope, always accompanied by Luna and Missy, and under her godmother's care, mingled with the frenzy, spreading (with small gestures of magic) twinkles and golden stars in the air - "they are for joy," she explained every time someone asked what she was doing.

Some people kept coming and going, coordinating the preparations for the Ceremony with other equally important activities taking place in parallel throughout the day. Killian and Key took turns with W. Brennan, Liam and Milah captaining the two Jolly Rogers to transport the 3-D screens to more remote locations, while the two airships and the three dragons flew back and forth, setting up the television signal retransmitters and antennas network.

"Will the signal be received at the Land without Magic?" Chad asked Nemo, "From here we get the signal that is transmitted from there..."

"Not because the carrier frequency we're using is outside the operating range of the equipment they use, and besides, I'm using quantum encryption so that even if someone picks up the signal they can't decode it," Nemo explained.

Emma, enamored with the number prepared by the Youngers with Henry's help, took over their stage direction and choreography, while Emm spent most of the time rehearsing with the orchestra and Ursula the performance of the chosen song.

Wish Ariel, Senior, Junior and Liam took over the direction of photography, sound and lighting. Liam and his Olympian Patron were extremely helpful with all equipment while Ursula took over the conduct of the orchestra, as Emm had to sing the song.

Split Regina, Wish Regina, Zelena and Wish Apprentice took on tasks that involved more sophisticated magic, and so, little by little, the Ceremony started to take shape.

In the middle of the afternoon, those who had been working on other missions joined the teams, so that by the end of the afternoon the finishing touches began to be given.

Red and Wish Red were in charge of the makeup, Snow of the locker room, and Johanna and both Grannys took over the food and drink.

To calm their fast-moving hearts as the time of the Ceremony approached, Alice, Ingrid and Ruth began to apply reassuring passes and massages and later, with the arrival of  Marian, Tiana, Jasmine, Anna and Merida, they formed a team to apply collective sessions of Reiki, energizing everyone with pacifying waves.

Gepetto worked during the afternoon on carving special chairs for the musicians, using enchanted wood, and Moe adorned the hall (audience and stage) with flowerpots.

Gradually the special guests: kings, queens, Emissaries and Magicians began to arrive and settle into the small auditorium. The cameras, sound and lighting tested, all set.

...

Henry, the first to present, takes a deep breath and walks to the backstage, where all presenters and artists are already concentrated. Cindy, from an armchair in the audience, sends him a kiss wishing him luck.

*

Enter Henry Mills, the Author.

"I greet all Living Beings in all dimensions and realms interconnected by the Power of Light, Peace and Love.

Two days ago, the Magic Pen of which I am the temporary guardian, which makes me the current Author, prophesied the script of the Alignment Ceremony - a  Sacred Art shared tonight with everyone in the United Realms, Olympus and Elysium Fields through this real-time transmission thanks to the Power of Magic, Science and Technology. Its Sacred Mystery will resonate and awaken within us the Warriors of the Earth, Moon and Sun.

The poetic riddle, base of the Ceremony defined by the magic pen, was:

"Through the Elders' drums, Freedom. Through the Youngers' dreams, Legend. Through the Moon, Wolf. Through the Eyes, Soul."

To the inner call for planning, organizing, producing, directing, performing and playing the Alignment, many responded. The Spirit of Light, Peace and Love drove, in record time, the hard work of this great number of people behind the scenes, in a collective effort, for producing tonight's ceremony.

From telecom infrastructure to big screens' distribution logistics, from magic teleport to magic protection spell, from stage teleprompter to magic assistance, from costumes to makeup, from photography direction to 3-D devices development, from enchanted wood provision to set design, from cameras' operation to stage direction, from dressing room assistance to backstage snacks, from production assistance to stage lighting, from sound engineering to live audience assistance, from magic healing to Reiki therapy, from art direction to teleplay & script, from scene choreography to screenplay, from executive production to general direction, from enchanted furniture and flowers to the delicious meals we were fed with during rehearsals and meetings: to all, Gratitude is in Order - we are making History.

In fact, the amplitude and impact of what we are living only from the perspective of History we will be able to understand. But one thing we can already be certain of: the new age of prosperity and peace to all Enchanted Lands has only become possible thanks to the luminous magic that created the United Realms. In this sense, tonight is doubly memorable because it marks the return to our conviviality of the United Realms creator - she is back, walking in her Healing path. Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome our Good Queen."

Enter Regina Mills, walking slowly, with elegance.

"I thank you all for your kindness and goodness. We will need all this kindness and all this goodness now, more than ever. To face our enemies, we must remain united in one heart, one mind. Together, unified, we are stronger than isolated and alone. Together, vibrating in resonance with the frequencies of Light, Peace and Love, we will become invincible. This is what the Sacred Alignment is meant to perform. It is meant to take us to the Here and Now. In the Here and Now we will Shine, Together.

Ladies and Gentlemen, it is a great honor for me to be here and now to declare the Alignment Ceremony open."

Enter Fergus.

"The Wabanaki Confederacy (translated to People of the Dawn or Easterner) are a First Nations and Native American confederation of five principal nations: the Mi'kmaq, Maliseet, Passamaquoddy, Abenaki, and Penobscot.

The Wabanaki are in and named for the area which they call Wabanahkik ("Dawnland"), roughly the area made up of most of present-day Maine in the Land almost without Magic known as the United States, and New Brunswick, mainland Nova Scotia, Cape Breton Island, Prince Edward Island and some of Quebec south of the St. Lawrence River in Canada.

Two days ago, five Wabanaki shamans, Elders of their five nations, demonstrated why we must rename their land to Land almost without Magic . They went to Arendelle's Royal Palace, teleported by their own Magic, in response to a Mother Earth's call, for taking part in the Alignment, bringing with their drums, flute and chants the rhythm and pulse of our Mother Earth. They will open the Ceremony with the song Freedom.

Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the Elders' group Spirit of the Dawn."

Enter Aesop.

"Youth is the window through which the future enters the world. In making this statement I placed in the hands of the young the noble task of transforming the so-called “liquid society” into a fertile field of solid, deep and true relationships, where love can supersede hatred and indifference. After all, youth, endowed with aptitudes and peculiar creativity, cannot be molded by the exploits of the world without questioning itself as a thinking, virtuous and transforming subject of history.

Youth is the tomorrow of life, not a separate chapter from the rest of existence, nor is it the preface to a book. It is the premise of everything. It is the seed from which all springs forth. It is the foundation on which to lay the great building of life. What a majestic and beautiful mission!

The windows of life open at dawn so that big and small human dreams come true. However, the battle to reach great achievement, personal or collective change is procedural and often arduous and severe. Therefore, cultivating faith and self-confidence is a must in every dreamer's life.

The dream is the indispensable fuel for the struggles and achievements, this indomitable force that nourishes hopes and points new horizons and possibilities. The idealist is not someone who pretends happiness, but a life enthusiast who has learned the value of a treasure before he/she ever finds it. Therein lies the secret of believing for yourself! In the art of dreaming, one finds the reasons for believing in the values of one's existence. The young being who does not dream and who, in this vast world of possibilities, does not know where to go, will easily be lost in paths indicated by others, which will not always lead him to self-realization.

The youngsters who will perform on this stage have dreamed of the cultural manifestation of natives from this North American continent, which has welcomed the United Realms in one of its dimensional planes. These young people have cultivated this dream in their hearts - an ideal that they worked hard to become real.

To live is to be open to the new, to believe in love and purity of mind. It is urgent not to lose the charm of life nor the enthusiasm for the dreams that are believed - and the most beautiful thing is that these young men and young women researched and found this enchantment for the new looking into the past, into the ancestry of indigenous legends.

By the time the Magic Pen wrote the Alignment script, the Legend you are about to know had already been chosen, and the 10 representatives of Youth symbolically unfolded themselves in 10 times 10 thousand young people to translate the magic of the chosen native fable into a language resonant with the moment we are all living and pulsing.

Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the Youngers' group Spirit of the Day."

Altogether:

Enter the 5 Elders and, from behind the 10 Youngers, they play and chant the 'Wolf Song':

Enter Granny and W. Granny.

Granny: “Regardless of our gender, and despite all our apparent sophistication, we are nature, we remain wild creatures who somehow long to regain our ancient freedom to feel alive, to find our position in the world. Our challenge is to find the path for the wild without losing our vocational instinct for goodness. For that, women and she-wolves have a lot to teach everyone.”

W. Granny: "Within each woman lives a powerful force, a whirlwind of good instincts, creativity, passion and timeless knowledge that sometimes society itself makes us forget in an attempt to "tame" us. For us, women, being ourselves is, undoubtedly and profoundly, revolutionary.”

Granny: “The courage to be ourselves in any setting, in any context and regardless of who we are will allow us to preserve our identity. We are being ourselves when we are being strong.”

W. Granny: "But being strong doesn't mean exercising the muscles. It means finding our own brightness without running away, actively living with the wild nature in our own way. It means being able to learn, being able to defend what we know. It means staying and living. Strong is who stares, who does not run away, who shows without fear his/her identity, who does not surrender, who lives with joy and courage.”

Granny: "Most of today's women have been separated from their savage version, that instinctive essence with which the she-wolf knows who she is, recognizes herself, and feels strong, free, and important. We must therefore observe what our predecessors did to rediscover our value, our importance, and the energy that feeds us and makes us strong.”

W. Granny: "If we live as we breathe, holding and releasing, we cannot go wrong. This principle symbolizes nothing more than the life cycle: take, hold, let go, accept, move on…”

Granny: "The wolf, the old one, the one who knows is inside us. It blooms in the deepest psyche of women's souls, the ancient and vital Wild Woman. She describes her home as a place at a time when the spirit of women and the spirit of wolves come into contact.”

W. Granny: "Healthy wolves and healthy women have certain psychic characteristics in common: keen perception, playfulness, and a high capacity for devotion."

Granny: "Wolves and women are gregarious by nature, curious, endowed with great endurance and strength. They are deeply intuitive and have great concern for their puppies, their partner and their pack. Has experience in adapting to changing circumstances. They have a fierce determination and extreme courage."

W. Granny: "When women reaffirm their relationship with the wild, they are gifted with a permanent inner observer, a wise, a visionary, an oracle, an inspirer, an intuitive, a creator, an inventor, and a listener who guides. She suggests and stimulates a vibrant life in the inner and outer worlds."

Granny: "When women are with the Wild Woman, the reality of this relationship is reflected in them. No matter what happens, this savage instructor, mother, and mentor supports her inner and outer lives."

W. Granny: "Wolves and Women are lunar beings and Tonight, a specially magic Full Moon night, She-Wolves and Women will share a special connection symbolized by the silent, profoundly spiritual presence of five She-Wolves-Women from a special pack blessed by the gods."

Granny and W. Granny: "Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the She-Wolves' group Spirit of the Night."

Five Women walk in with their red hooded capes back to the cameras. Then they turn around taking off their magic cloaks to transform into She-wolves.

While four Wolves walk, with balance and beauty, to position themselves as guardians of the four corners of the Room, Killian Jones, Emma Swan-Jones, (Wish) Killian Jones and (Wish) Emma Sweet Nolan-Jones enter the stage, being received by the fifth Wolf, who conducts them to the center of the room where they all sit on four cushions placed on the floor.

After a pause for everybody to settle down, the 5 Elders enter the stage again playing and chanting another song, followed by the 10 Youngers  performing a round choreography while also chanting a mantra:

Round Dance

Enter W. Snow and W. David.

In silence, Henry Mills, Regina Mills, Fergus, Aesop, Janet and W. Janet Lucas (Grannys) follow them and position themselves in the grand circle formed by the 5 Elders, 10 Youngers and 4 Wolves - 1 Wolf remains at the center of the circle with the two Killians and Emma Swan, all on their marks.

W. Snow: "Life is the most perfect translation of the most perfect Mystery."

W. David: "Love is the most perfect translation of the most perfect Magic."

W. Snow: "Life is eternal, and when translated into the circle of Time, it pulsates in cyclic contrasts: chiaroscuro, day-night, male-female, life-death."

W. David: "There is no Darkness that resists Light. Darkness exists because of the absence of Light."

W. Snow: "There is no Dark Magic that resists the Magic of Love, the most powerful and luminous of all Magic."

W. David: "The Light of Love encompasses all frequencies and aligns them synchronously by enveloping them in the pulse of Peace, Harmony, Fraternity, Health, and Happiness."

W. Snow and W. David: "Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the Orchestra Spirit of the Light, conducted by Ursula, and the Aligner, Emma Sweet Nolan-Jones."

Soul Eyes

1,2,3

#Body and Soul #Chapter 9

[xbarrjallenx]

If I Die Young

Pairing: Alex Standall x Reader

Summary: (Y/N) stayed by Alex’s side as he tried to commit suicide.

Requested: No

Word count: 1.828

Posted: 01.05.2017

Warning(s): Angst, blood, mentions of committing suicide, possible death, shooting, swearing

Song inspiration: If I Die Young by The Band Perry

A/N: This is my 50th imagine, since the day I’ve started, on the 22nd of February, and I wanted to post my favourite imagine, so far. I was listening to the song and an imagine inspiration came into my mind. This made me cry so much, I wonder why I keep on doing this to myself. Anyways, I may post a part two of this imagine! Keep an eye out!  If you have some Alex requests, feel free to send some in. Thank you so much, guys!

P.S.: (SPOILER!) Before you attack me, I would like to clarify that I think that Alex committed suicide and he wasn’t  shot by Tyler. I mean, he had different signs to show that he was suicidal and I don’t want to be attacked for my own opinion. Thank you.

- G. x

“What did Alex do?! No, I know Alex and he wouldn’t do it!” You shouted while talking to Alex’s dad through the phone. You respected him, but you were shocked for the news that he had in store. “Tell me that he really didn’t do it! Tell me, please!” You hysterically shouted inside of your car as your tears slowly streamed down your face.

“I…” His dad was speechless. He couldn’t believe that his son had the courage to do something like that. He didn’t know what to say, because he was shocked too.

“Alex needs me, I am on my way.” You bit your lower lip as you ended the phone call and threw your phone on the passenger’s seat beside you. “Fuck, Standall!” You hit your steering wheel many times as you cried loudly and uncontrollably on it.

You were scared and heartbroken at the same time. How could Alex ever think of doing that certain thing? He knew that you were still by his side, but why did he leave you? Scratch that, he would never leave you, the right question was why did he choose to do that?

“Alex Standall, please.” You impatiently asked at the nurse for his room at the reception hall. You still had tear stains on your cheeks and you were still hiccupping for pouring your heart out.

“Only the relatives can visit the patient.” The nurse strictly said even though she saw that you were desperate to see Alex. You clenched your teeth as you were trying to stay calm. “Sorry.”

“I am his fucking best friend, so let me in!” You lost your control, because of the thought that you could lose Alex at any moment. “Damn it, that guy was my life and he shot himself in the head, he needs his best friend right now. He fucking needs me right now and you wouldn’t let me in! How can you be so fucking selfish!” You poured your anger and you blamed the nurse for what you were feeling at that moment.

You surely were making a scene and you got some dirty and some pitiful looks from the people that stayed there, but you didn’t care. You wanted to see your best friend and you demanded to see him.

“Security at the reception hall please.” She severely said as she contacted the guards using the phone on her desk. You shot her a death glare as you thought how uncompassionate and callous she was.

“No need, she’s with me.” A deep voice was heard behind you and it revealed you Alex’s dad. “She’s part of the family.” You felt relieved for that and you had your hopes up for a little bit.

“Officer Standall!” You tightly hugged him and he hugged you back. You felt tears still streaming down your face and you broke the hug so his uniform wouldn’t be stained by your tears. “Thank you for being heartless!” You spat those words as if they were venom in your mouth. You didn’t mean to be rude, but you were desperate and the thought of having your best friend in a hospital room terrified you even more.

“C'mon!” He pressed his lips on your temple to give you kiss. He considered you as his daughter and seeing you like that broke his heart even more.

You both walked through the hospital halls with a heavy heart. You were afraid to know if Alex was fine, if he would survive, but you were convinced that he would. In fact, you were already thinking of how you would slap him silly when he’s gotten out of that redundant place. You were thinking of how you would scold him, of how you would take care of him, of how you would tell him that you loved him so much.

“Go on.” Officer Standall encouraged you as he let you enter Alex’s room. You slowly nodded while turning the doorknob to open it.

“Alex.” You murmured to yourself as you saw your best friend lying on a hospital bed. There were uncountable wires attached to his body and your heart sank as you hated him for that short moment. How could he appear that calm when you were being desperate and frantic? “Lex, please wake up.”

You walked near his bed and you took a seat on the chair beside it. You wandered your eyes around the room and everything was white: the walls, the bedsheets, the window curtains. Everything.

“Lex, I am here now.” You grabbed his right hand, luckily that his dextrose was attached on his other hand. “Wake up, stop joking because I am clearly not.”

There was silence in the room, the only thing that could be heard was your soft sobs and the heart monitor that kept on beeping as it flashed Alex’s poor heart rates.

“Alex, I can’t accept this. We aren’t kids anymore, stop playing our old games.” You harshly tortured your bottom lip as you prevented yourself from crying.

You remembered how Alex used to pretend that he was asleep whenever his parents would arrive home and you were his partner in crime. You would play jokes on his brother too, scaring him to death when Alex pretended that he was a zombie.

“Standall, it’s okay if you don’t wake up right now, but please hold on.” You tightened your grip on his hand as tears started to wet your hands. “I am sorry for letting this to happen. I am sorry because I didn’t cheer you up enough, I am sorry because I wasn’t able to make you feel better after those fucking tapes.”

You looked at Alex and you admired his angelic and peaceful face. He had a bandage wrapped around his head with a big blood stain on it. Some of his platinum blonde hair was covered with blood and it made you cry even more.

“Lex, remember the last time you made me cry like this?” You asked him even though you knew that he wouldn’t respond. “Yes, that was during our first and last fight. Alex, you humiliated me in public because I let Montgomery kiss me. Yup, that asshole. I accepted that, but I wouldn’t accept this. You are making me cry and this is the worst reason that you could ever come up to.”

You looked at his pale lips and you thought of how much you preferred those lips than Montgomery’s.

“Standall, you are my best friend because you are you and you never failed to make me laugh. You even made fun of yourself in public when I was so down for a low grade.” You smiled as you remembered those things, still feeling hot tears running down your cheeks. “You even let yourself get beaten up for me.” You shook your head.

“I love defending you!” Alex exclaimed as you were scolding him for getting his ass beaten up.

“You didn’t have to do that, silly!” You smiled at him as you were curing the scars and the wounds.

“I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.” Alex has said as he dealt with the stinging feeling of the disinfectant. “You know that I would catch a bullet for you, right?”

“Ha! Funny, right?” You sarcastically laughed. “You caught a bullet, but not for me.” You caressed his unanimated hand with your thumb. “I didn’t want for you to catch a bullet for me! I wanted for you to stay beside me, forever and always.”

You appreciated the heat that his hand was emanating and you felt safe, even though you were so scared.

“Little did we both know that I fell in love with you, I fell in love with that contagious and funny laugh of yours, with that broken smile and your dimples. I loved your platinum hair, even though I teased you a lot because of it. I love everything about you, but, mostly,” You confessed and you knew that he could hear you. “I love you, Alex Standall.” You stood up to give a sweet and soft kiss on his pale lips.

You admired his peaceful face once again and smiled.

“I am waiting for you, okay?” You whispered to him and you caressed his hand again. He squeezed your hand and it gave you hope somehow. “Please, don’t go.”

You were about to let go of his hand to call the doctors, but your world was destroyed and it turned upside down as you heard the flatline sound of the heart monitor. Your heart stopped together with his and you fell back on your sit, tears uncontrollably flowing like a river.

“Fuck, Alex!” You couldn’t believe of the happening and you panicked as you gripped on his hand even tighter, tears burnt your red cheeks. “Alex, don’t leave me! Alex! Please don’t!”

“Excuse us, ma'am!” You didn’t hear that the nurses entered his room and you were suddenly pulled away. “Ma'am, please.” The nurses slightly shouted since it seemed like you couldn’t hear them.

“Alex!” You shouted as they forced you to let Alex’s hand go. “Alex, fight! Please!”

“It will be alright.” Those words were the last words you heard from the nurses that night. They left you on the hallway as they did their work inside the room. You saw Alex’s dad with his brother, they were both crying and mourning.

You leant on the white and candid wall behind you as you sobbed, letting your body fall on the ground. You couldn’t understand anything around you as you suddenly saw Alex’s figure across the hall, looking at you and smiling.

“And I’ll be wearing white when I come into your kingdom, I’m as green as the ring on my little cold finger.” You sang together with Alex while he was playing his guitar at your school’s music room.

“I’ve never known the lovin’ of a man, but it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand, there’s a boy here in town says he’ll love me forever, who would have thought forever could be severed by.” You sang as you were sobbing loudly. You couldn’t continue the song, so you let the music flow as people cried and felt sorry for you.

“(Y/N).” Zach rubbed your back as he tried to comfort you.

“It was for you, Lex, although you promised me that you were the one who would’ve sang it at my funeral.” You said as your voice cracked and your heart broke even more. “Unfair.”

“I promise that I will sing that to you at your funeral.” Alex promised as you did your pinky promise and he unleashed a deep sigh because he already knew that he would’ve taken away his life soon, sad to break his promise.

That night, when the nurses have told you that everything will be alright, you already knew that you lost Alex, you knew that you lost the most important person in your life.

#alex standall x reader #alex standall #clay jensen #hannah baker #jessica davis #zach dempsey #tony padilla #Tyler Down #Justin foley #13 reasons why #13rw #13 reasons why imagine #13rwedit #13rw imagines #xbarrjallenx #masterlist

[ladywolfmd]

Hi! This is the Robb and Sansa anon. One of my favorite scenes in WWWG was Ned introducing Jon and Robb to baby Sansa and the speech he gave. The irony behind it was so interesting to me because her future husband and her brother were being told to love and protect her and to serve as an example for what she should look for. Because of that scene I always thought it would interesting to see how Robb would react to jonsa if he could see them. So maybe just him reacting to them in WWWG?

Hi! Like from beyond the grave you mean? Hmm… I do have a Robb POV written out that I haven’t posted yet and it references that scene in form of a letter of his that was written before he died. But for a Jonsa reaction…here you go: (I’m going to have to add this to what I originally wrote when I get to publishing that post in the future)

He watches, as he’s always done ever since she came back, he watches her save for when he knows she needs her privacy the most, especially when eyes follow her wherever she goes rendering her to keep her walls up. 

She doesn’t even feel safe in her own home and the thought enrages him as much as it saddens him - leaves him buried in guilt - guilt he can never atone for. 

So he watches her how he should’ve watched over her ever since the moment he first saw her - a beautiful babe with the same eyes and hair as he. 

He could still remember the first thing he ever said to her as he held her tiny hand in his then.

“Hello Sansa! I am your big brother Robb. I love you little one. I’ll protect you!“

It ate at him to look back at the memory of her so small - so fragile - so very innocent and beautiful and his to protect as their Lord Father tasked them with when he took him to meet his sister for the first time. 

And how had he fulfilled that duty? 

And how could he fulfill that duty now? 

He used to be his sister’s favored knight or prince or king who rescues the princess he always calls her as during times when she’d ask him to play.

What was he now? 

A shadow in the darkness. 

He smiled bitterly. 

No wonder him and his half-brother no more switched roles. 

Jon Snow, King in the North. 

Robb Stark, a Watcher in the Wall.

Such was his punishment, he believes. To be stuck as some kind of silent ghost trapped within the walls of Winterfell, doomed to bear witness to what happened when he lost the North. 

When he looked at his mother that last time, he knew. 

He knew he was never going home. 

But here he was. 

Home.

Just in time to watch his home burn by the same men that brought him down.

Winter is coming, he said then. But the flames came first.

He watched his home burning, covered in soot and smoke until the white blanket that covered what was left of it wasn’t thick from snow than it was thick with ashes. 

He watched.

And he dared not close his eyes, not even for a moment, not even if he could. 

He watched everything.

How the man who killed him took his life - his crown - his future for his own. 

And how his sister, the first wolf who came home to reclaim it despite the ruin and the danger, the one he was supposed to protect, died every night on top of the bed that used to be his - her blood and tears soaking the ashes of what’s left of their home as they took from her what remained of their name, their claim, their power, their pride.

He watched as she took back their home with what’s left of her innocence the heavy price she paid.

And she’s been paying with that, her songs and dreams stripping away from her each time, he knew, from the moment their father was arrested, she was paying with what she could give while he knew she held on to faith that he would rescue her. 

But he never did, did he? 

Now he watched as she stood in front of his former chambers - her prison cell. Watched as she slid down the floor and rested her back against the boarded and cemented off room after asking to be excused from the council meeting so she could have a moment of solitude, her female knight guarding the stairs that lead to this hallway. 

She had not been here, not even in the same wing, for moons now. 

But now she was.

He dared not close his eyes now either knowing something significant would happen for her to be here.

She sat there still and silent like a statue, her face that same impassive mask she perfected was there save for that tiny furrow between her brow that relieved him for he so hated that mask though it was one that showed her steel, it was forged in fires from the seven hells she endured. 

Slowly, she moved. Retrieving something from her cloak. 

At the sight of them he felt restless and even scared. 

In her hands were his letters, the ones he never sent as well as ones he did send but hid from her, the ones Arya painstakingly searched when she heard of their existence, the ones she gifted as part of her wedding present for our sister.

Time seemed to pass like an eternity as he watched her contemplate on opening them. 

He wanted nothing more but to take her hands in his, look her in the eyes, and urge her to open them. Read them. 

He knows she’s had them for days, nearly a sennight. 

Slowly, and tenderly, one by one, she was finally reading them.

He watched as her eyes so much like his before, widened and moistened, her mouth parting and closing as her jaw trembled - how her whole body followed soon after.

Watched as tears fell like silent rivers, never accompanied by the whimpers and sobs she was keeping tightly under control. 

He wanted to hold her and wipe her tears and cry with her as he saw her hardened eyes grow softer and softer. 

He knew she already forgave him a long time ago even if he didn’t deserve it. 

He knew she had already made peace with what he had to do.

He knew how much she defended him still, making him out to be an honorable man despite his failings - despite failing her the most.

But it was only now as he watches her trace his words over the paper and bring them clutched close to her chest as she wept on silently, the tiniest hint of a smile ghosting over her lips that she finally found it. 

Peace and closure with him.

Because among the letters he sent, one was an explanation, another an apology, but most of all, one was a promise for all three should be given separately as she deserved.

Looking at her now, vulnerable and soft, she looked like the little princess he always saw her as.

“My little princess,” he whispered as he knelt beside her and held her even if his words were nothing but wind and his hands and arms went through her when he realized why he was still here. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back.”

Because though she lit a candle for him in the crypt and though she prayed for him in the godswood, she never, not once, attempted to talk to him, not as she did before father’s statue, mother’s sept, and Rickon’s room - how she called for them, apologized and sought strength from them.

And why would she do the same for him?

His bones were yet to be lain in the crypt. 

And her former husband took everything of his and tainted them with Sansa’s blood and tears. Using his own training swords, his own belts, his own daggers as if using his bed, his furs, and his room wasn’t enough.

Why would she go back to this room? When the last time she was here, despite winning the castle back, she was found scrubbing her scarred skin raw as she sat cold and naked in the tub after trashing the room and ripping her already ruined wedding dress  in her attempt to cleanse herself from any trace of the bastard monster. 

He watched that too.

Helplessly. 

And he watched as the brother he once knew, the one who was never truly a brother to her, do the duty he has neglected for far too long.

And that was to be her brother that night.

He was the one who helped her bathe, dressed her wounds, and made her feel safe and cared for when she hasn’t felt either for years from the moment they took father’s head. 

He watched as he carried her and made sure she was warm and protected before he himself torched the room and boarded it up brick by brick while his wolf never left her.

He forgets sometimes, that her wolf, Lady was the first price she paid for an attempt at peace. 

From that night, he would take time to watch Jon Snow too. 

And though he was proud of him, and knew he made the right choice of naming him heir, he was jealous too.

Jon who wasn’t even a true brother to Sansa as she had neither been a true sister to him then were now the ones that had each other.

Though he knew they cared for each other deep down and knew ultimately they were kept apart by mother, and knew he was honorable and acting as so, and Sansa acting as loyal and loving as he knew her core to be, it was still there.

The jealousy.

He didn’t even want to take back Winterfell.

He didn’t even want to be King.

Yet he was the brother who followed Sansa. He was the brother that helped Sansa take back their home. He was the brother that continued to make her safety and happiness a priority as father made both of them promise before.

He was the brother he should’ve been for her in the first place, protecting her, and fighting for her as father and their late Uncle Brandon practically started a war to rescue their sister as they rode South for Aunt Lyanna during each of their time to do so. Uncle Brandon died for Aunt Lyanna. Father fought to bring her bones back while he couldn’t even trade the Kingslayer for her or name her heir.

So he could accept it, Jon being there for her now. A true brother finally to make up for what he failed.

What was it that father told them when he brought Jon and him to meet her?

“As her older brothers, it falls to the two of you to look out for your sister. Take care of her, protect her, and love her. If falls to the two of you to show her how a lady should be treated and cherished. Be the one she can look up to and turn to first for anything. She will be seeking comfort and protection only a brother can give. You may not understand it now but when you are older, you two may find yourself sheltering each your own lady wife, and she sheltered by her own lord husband, but a brother’s love is different. Be the person she can trust the most. Be the man she can trust above all men. Be loyal to each other and keep your family safe.”

And that was Jon.

A true brother she needed.

Until suddenly, he was not. 

They all didn’t know then that he wasn’t their true brother, that father had to lie. It wasn’t true that in death you are suddenly omniscient. Or maybe it doesn’t apply to those punished to be ghosts. 

He could understand how Sansa might confuse her feelings from being so bereft of love and kindness for so long that she has no one else to turn to but him. 

But Jon should’ve known better. 

How could he fall in love with his own sister?

Yes, she was lovely and easy to love when she showed her heart that she kept under iron lock and chains. And she showed it to him and him alone in complete trust, little by little, she did. And showed him what it means to be loved and cared by her. 

He watched as he fell deeper. Watched as he resisted. And he was starting to think if he could live haunting him to remember why he shouldn’t have those feelings in the first place.

He wanted to shake Jon and yell that Sansa needed a brother - needed Jon to be her brother each time he strayed.

He knew his brother’s guilt. He knew it ate at him and he never acted on his feelings until he was allowed to, but it still felt like a betrayal.

So he kept on watching Sansa. Relieved that it took Sansa longer to realize, believing that everything she was doing was out of sisterly love until they weren’t and she was only comparing him to what knights and kings should be, what her husband should be, not at all that he himself should be that husband.

It was Baelish that put the idea in her mind in his attempt to take the Iron Throne through them, insinuating that a marriage between them since they were now cousins would benefit everyone.

And then he watched as Baelish told her that if she didn’t marry Jon, he’d likely be asked to marry the dragon queen. And that was all it took for Sansa to push down her reservations out of fear for Jon marrying a foreign stranger thinking that she’d rather keep him safe than risk letting him suffer the same fate she did when she rode South to be betrothed to the would-be King no matter how they say she is different. She’d rather not risk it. It wasn’t from jealousy, it wasn’t from fear for her own fate when he does, but more for his own. 

And then he heard her convince herself in front of her mirror, as she examined her scarred body. 

“I am not the queen he deserves and he may not want to touch me not because I am damaged, but because of ghosts, but I will be good to him. I will learn to love him. I already do, but I will do more. I can protect him. We can protect each other. The rest will follow once we allow it. Like mother and father did.”

He had to turn away then because he saw it. Saw that from this moment, she’d allow herself to love him as him and not as her brother and he felt ashamed.

Especially when he overheard her again. 

“No one will ever marry me for love. At least not like the songs. At least with Jon, he loves me as family.”

Three times. She already married twice for duty, she was willing to do it again for the same reason if it came down to it. 

Three times, Sansa was better than him.

He married for love and what did it cost him?

Looking at Sansa who was quietly falling in love with their former brother, tore at him.

On one side, he could accept it as Jon would be nothing but good to her and he’d protect her from marrying a stranger or an outright monster or even someone undeserving. She was right that they would protect each other. But on one side, they were tiptoeing around each others’ growing feelings. They would do their duty, but the guilt that needn’t be there would eat at them if they don’t talk about it. 

But in the end, it was what Sansa wanted that mattered to him. And he could see that it was Jon who was the only one who was truly making her happy. If marrying Jon would make her happy, then he would be happy not for her but with her.

It’s not like he was one to judge. 

No. 

He lost that privilege long ago.

Lost the privilege of being her brother long ago when he had to, in people’s eyes, give her up.

Bran knew, he knew everything.

Arya was royally mad at him but Sansa, once again, as she did with Jon, built the bridge for their way to forgiving him.

And now she was here.

“I miss you big brother.”

“I miss you too princess,” he said so near her ear wishing she could hear him somehow.

“I told them. You did what you had to. I understood,” she finally sobbed.

He vainly tried to hold her as she shook. “I know. I know you did. You didn’t have to but you did. I don’t deserve it but I’m grateful.”

Sansa shut her eyes and clutched the letters to her chest tighter as she wept. “I wanted them to remember you as nothing but the brave and honorable king you were.”  

“I know. I know. I know. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I’m sorry,” he kept trying, chanting them to her over and over.

Then her eyes opened and they looked lighter as she broke into a small smile, sighing a breath of relief. “I knew you didn’t just abandon me. I knew it in my heart. I knew that you would never. At least not intentionally. They never believed me, not really, but now they will.”

He watched as she looked down happily at his words, his whole self-breaking into pieces that she had so much faith in him. More than he deserved but then again, he always knew. 

He prided himself with being the one who knew Sansa the most and he was glad that he still did until the end. If there was anything in the wold he wouldn’t doubt, it’s Sansa’s faith in her family no matter what.

“Sansa?”

We both turned and saw Jon then, looking more and more like father than he ever did. His grey eyes filled with worry and surprise at seeing Sansa like this and here, cautiously approaching Sansa though his hands twitched at his sides. 

It was Ghost who moved on forward without hesitation, nuzzling Sansa’s cheek and licking the tears away from her face as Sansa smiled at him while she hugged him. 

Jon took that as his cue to approach then, kneeling one leg before her and cradling her face tenderly with both hands while he sat where he was behind Sansa, watching this exchange as Ghost did when he trotted away to give them both space.

“What are you doing here, my love? I thought you said you were resting? Ghost lead me here,” he caressed her face while he examined her for any sign of hurt. 

Sansa wrapped a hand around one of his wrists and leant her forehead against his. “Because it was time, my love.”

“Time for what?”

She leant back then and adjusted her hold on his hand, twisting it so it faced palm up where he saw she placed his letters. “To let Robb rest.”

If his heart still beat, it would’ve stopped at her sister’s words.

He watched Jon instead, his brows furrowed as he looked down at the letters and back up his wife’s face. “I don’t - 

Sansa touched Jon’s cheek then and shook her head while new tears flowed but she was smiling. “I can’t explain it. But I still feel him sometimes. Like he’s watching over me. You know what kept me brave all the time? I kept thinking I must be brave like Robb. I know Arya and Bran thought that too and I know you did too. Be brave like Robb. But I also know you have reservations against him…if not for you but for me. Arya all but yelled her frustration to me but you, you’ve kept it. I know you hide it, but you still feel the guilt some times.” 

He watched as Jon sighed as he leant into her touch. “Aye. Sometimes I still feel that I’m taking things from him. That all of this was meant to be his. And I look back and thought of how jealous I was of him for being heir to everything I dreamed off but never really let that jealousy take root because Robb was nothing but kind and fair to me - how he defended me and treated me like a true brother and he really did work so hard to deserve being heir. This was all supposed to be his.” 

She tilted her head. “Even me?”

Jon’s eyes flew open then and saw Sansa smirking in challenge. “You said everything. Am I included?” she teased though he could see her wrinkle her nose.

He watched as Jon rolled his eyes and wound his arms around her to pull her closer. “No.” he growled. “He deserved a queen, aye. But you’re my queen. And I can’t believe you joked about-about…”

Sansa giggled then and he was with Jon in finding relief and delight in Sansa’s laughter. “I was merely asking for a clarification.”

“Sometimes, you are far too clever for your own good,” he grinned at her.

“Someone has to be clever around here,” she grinned back. 

Jon looked back at the letters then and ran his knuckles against her cheek. “But really, are you okay?” 

Sansa closed her eyes at his touch. “I was even before you found me, but I’m definitely feeling more than okay now,” she opened her eyes then. “So will you read them?” 

Jon put the letters inside his pocket and helped Sansa to her feet. “Aye, I’ll read them. But I don’t need to read them to let Robb go peacefully now.”

He watched as a look passed between the two of them as they’ve been doing, a language they’ve learned to develop where one need not say anything to be heard.

They both looked at the barred door now, neither were smiling but nor were there hate in their eyes as they looked at it.

Well, at least, for Jon it was significantly lessened as apart from the slight tightness in his eyes that lasted a moment, his hands didn’t clench and shake as they used to whenever he passed this, kicking and punching at times he needed to get angry for Sansa without her knowing it. It was a start but he knew it was more about his anger for Sansa’s executed monster, than it was about Robb’s failings. 

“Are you ready to go now, my love?” Jon looked and waited for Sansa to look back at him, nodding happily as she did. 

“Just me, my love?” she blinked innocently.

Jon looked confused but Robb smirked, knowing what she meant. “And…Ghost?”

“Yes…him too. But Jon, I’m asking,” she paused before placing his free hand over her belly. “Where will we go?”

Jon’s eyes widened as comprehension dawned on him that Robb had to laugh when he gave her a look asking if it was true.

At Sansa’s nod, Jon lifted her up the same way he did when they were first reunited kissing all over her face grinning before he kissed her lips fully, breaking apart for him to kneel and kiss her stomach reverently. 

“And you’re wrong, Jon. Everything, all of these? You deserve it all. Everything. Robb made the right choice in naming you heir. The North made the right choice in naming you King.”

Jon looked up at her with pure adoration. “Everything means nothing to me, if you didn’t choose me.”

They held a look then that Robb felt he need to turn away from the intensity but couldn’t. 

“Why wouldn’t I choose you?”

Jon stood up then grinning while he wrapped his arm around her waist and lead her away. “Well, I’m not going to waste my time giving you answers to that and work very very hard to give you reasons to keep me.” 

Sansa blushed then and swatted his arm playfully. “Jon.”

He chuckled. “I can’t help it. A babe. You’re giving me a babe. I’m going to be a father.” And then a line grew on his face that Sansa didn’t miss. Winter was here and they knew the stories, knew what could happen. 

“We’ll be okay,” Sansa squeezed his hand but Jon wasn’t as convinced now that he was fearing he had more to lose if they failed. 

“What did your lover use to say to you? What was it you told me?” Sansa gave him a meaningful look that Jon had to let out a breath and a half-smile at what she meant. “If we die, we die. But first we’ll live.”

“She’s right you know,” she said with no trace of jealousy or malice, only love. 

“No.”

“No?”

“Because I won’t let you or our babe die. And I’m not going to die in battle too. Not with what’s waiting for me here.”

Robb knew that they both knew Jon can’t promise that but neither of them said it out loud, and chose to take the moment instead and choose to have faith in themselves and each other.

He watched as Jon looked lovingly with both desperation and determination at her while Sansa looked ahead, satisfied while she held Jon’s hand over her stomach while they walked.

With the way Jon was looking at her now, he thinks he can finally rest. Sansa didn’t need him anymore, no, she didn’t need him or the idea of him as a guide for her in the privacy of her mind, not when she had Jon now.

Really, it was all it took. 

Sansa loving Jon was all it took for him to let go of all his reservations and see him how Sansa sees him as a person.

Someone brave, gentle, and strong that father always wanted for her. 

Someone worthy of her. 

Jon would be the tether the South needed as a Targaryen.

Jon would be the King the North needed as a Stark.

Jon would be the doting brother Arya and Bran always had.

And Jon would be the loving husband Sansa deserved just as Sansa was the adoring wife Jon deserved too.  

With one final look at the King and Queen who won the North, he realized he wasn’t just waiting for Sansa, he was waiting for Jon too. 

He was surprised when Jon ran back and looked at the door again, placing a hand and closing his eyes. “Robb. Leave everything to me. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll take care of Sansa. Rest well, brother.”

Robb was struck at Jon’s words and watched gaping as Jon left just as quickly, catching up to his wife who smiled back at him as they wrapped their arms around each other.

Robb smiled slowly then finally feeling at peace at knowing the legacy he tried his best to deserve and protect, and more importantly, his family, was in safe hands. 

He closed his eyes then and the next thing he saw was the yellow eyes of his old friend.

“Greywind.”

#jonsa #jon snow x sansa stark #sansa stark & robb stark #fanfic #fanfiction #robb stark