Isis Tells It Like It Is
twitter.com/IsisTLLZitBznch:
I was watching My Little Pony just now and LOLOLOL I did not see this coming.
LMOA. I just saw this movie the other day
Skin and Bones (inspired by this also)
Their breaths run short at the sight of their newborn child, and Emma wills herself to not cry when tiny hands wrap around her finger. “He’s beautiful.” She says, the simple gesture disposing of her efforts to keep her tears at bay. If he weren’t in her arms she’s quite certain her body would be convulsing in a sob. Emma wipes the tear that’s dripped onto his head with a finger.
“Indeed.” Regina steps closer and brushes a gold stray of hair away from the woman’s head, brushing it back in memory of their past encounters. It bends behind Emma’s ear like it always does, and the familiarity of such a moment — a regularity in a day so unexpected — brings relief to Regina. “What’s his name?” She finally asks.
Emma thinks for a moment, eyes still fixed on the baby before the smile from her lips fade. It’s still in her voice when she speaks. “What was your father’s name?” It’s waters they’ve barely treaded, and though Emma’s tested them she’s never gone so far as knee-deep.
Regina can almost feel herself drowning as she says the name. ”Henry.”
“Henry.” Emma repeats, and in that moment the wandering eyes beneath her pause, looking up at her with a hope so profound it stuns even Regina. “Henry. That’s what we’ll name him.”
“I killed him, Emma. He died because of me.”
A silence falls over them as the words linger in the air, tainting the purity of the moment.
“He died for you.” Emma corrects. Blue eyes meet brown, the glance saying more than their words could ever say. She lifts their son up and hands him over to Regina, their fingers grazing at the exchange.
There’s a tingle in the touch, a sort of forgiveness Regina knows Emma is trying to show. The corner of her mouth twitches in acknowledgment.
“Henry,” Regina feels the words fall from her lips. The bitterness, she’s realized, is no longer there. A sweetness replaces it instead. “Henry.” She repeats.
“You won’t kill this one, will you?” Emma teases, and though it’s years past and the wound is a but a scar faint in Regina’s heart, it still hurts. It’s the price she pays everyday and she expects nothing less.
Regina shakes her head, lips trembling as her eyes search those of her son’s. “I’d die for him.”
(via egalitarianmuse)
