#itsbaelfire

[text]: Bae, look at who you sent this to. 

Voldemort: If you were to create a Horcrux(s), what would it be and why?Scarlett: Wait, is that those things that the wizards and witches put their souls into?Me: Yes...Scarlett: It can be anything, right? Me: i believe so, why?Scarlett: Then I would make it look like Killian’s hook and switch them because I wouldn’t trust anyone else with a piece of my soul.Me: You’re too freaking cute...as for me...I think it would be a piece a jewelry. Maybe a ring. Something I can have with me at all times.  

1000-Follower Prompt-a-thon

Requested by @mors-omnia-vincit for their OC Lucy Moira Cassidy (Swanfire baby for its-baelfire / @swanemmaswan). 

continued from here for @its-baelfire

Emma chuckled and shook her head. “No. It was me trying to flirt while eating. Seriously, if I thought you’d been sloppy I would have just thrown the napkin at you,” she pointed out, lacing her fingers through his hair. How did he manage to make it so soft? It felt like a big ball of lamb’s wool.

Her son just turned two weeks. Yet, he hadn’t seen daylight. He hadn’t gone home. He hadn’t felt his mother’s embrace. He hadn’t even gotten to suckle. All Emma had done was sit at his incubator, stroking his hand or foot.  No one even knew - not even Henry, Neal, or her parents. Emma hadn’t called anyone. Telling the family her son had been born weeks early scared Emma. The fact he nearly died during birth and that they (the doctors) didn’t know what his life would be if/when he grew up terrified Emma.

 This should be a time of joy. Emma and Neal should be finishing up the nursery. They should be prepping Henry to be a big brother (although he didn’t need that). But no. Emma was here alone and scared, unsure how to reach out or even if she could.

 Everyone must be worried sick. They must be furious with her, too. David and Mary Margaret warned her not to go - that it was far too dangerous to travel in her condition. But, Emma went. She needed to get away from everything, to close up loose ends - get her stuff from Boston and New York. She just needed to drive and not be the Savior. She just needed to be Emma. But, just Emma’s water broke on the way home. She’d been somewhere in Vermont. That’s where she gave birth and where she was stuck until her baby boy was better. Now if only she could get the nerve to call her family (or even better they somehow figured out where she was).

 Emma stared at her baby boy lying in the incubator. Hooked up to IV, wires, a feeding tube, and incubator, she could barely see the newborn. The mask shielding her son’s eyes from the bili light concealed even more of the newborn’s features. “Please be okay, baby boy. Your daddy already loves you. He hasn’t even met you. Henry can’t wait to see you. And you’ve got four wonderful grandparents,” she whispered, stroking the bare skin of his belly. Emma didn’t confess her feelings about the newborn. Emma couldn’t. If she did and things didn’t work out, the mother would be heartbroken.

 It was hard not to tell the child that she loved him. Emma tried to be as detached from the baby as she could. But, whether or not Emma wanted to admit it, the blond was attached to the baby. She’d barely left his side in those weeks. Eating or sleep were the only things to draw her away; Emma did both as quickly as possible.

 As she stroked her son’s tiny belly, she leaned against the plastic. Closing her eyes, she cried for probably the hundredth time this week. This wasn’t fair. Her son should be home not in the NICU. He wasn’t a villain and yet it felt as if the child wasn’t getting a happy ending. The baby shouldn’t be suffering. “I’d do anything to trade places with you, little one,” Emma sobbed. The tears burned her dry and red-rimmed eyes. Without looking, she grabbed a tissue from the rolling cart next to her and dabbed the wetness away. “I’d do anything to get you better and get you home. I’m not going to leave you. Don’t worry. Just get better, okay? Okay.” She didn’t know if the baby understood her of even heard her words, but she spoke to him so that he knew she was here. Emma’s OBGYN in this hospital explained that talking to the preemie often helped sick newborns thrive.

Send ☨ for our muses meeting as Hogwarts students

“Hey! Yes, you! You- have you— agh, is there—— aaah!” Exasperated, and maybe a little red from all the miles she had ran to that point, the Hufflepuff girl put a hand over her chest trying to steady her breathing and reorganize the storm of words fluttering in the tip of her tongue. So when she felt ready, or capable enough to pronounce more than five words in a sentence she gave it another try, hoping that the boy in front of her wasn’t as terrified as he could right now.