#Gertie is the pig in the front

[lemonyfrog]

My pigs have been enjoying the nicer weather!

[ghostiewriter]

AJSKDJLES you’re so nice!!! I was 100% using my birthday to manipulate you into giving us more headcanons lol but I wasn’t expecting you to actually get to it today! 🥺🥺🥰 take your time and no pressure but I definitely wouldn’t say no to hearing more about them making wild melodramatic accusations to make each other laugh in public because I can 100% see it. And I can totally see it starting on the surf trip because no one knows them so they’d just like try and embarrass the other? Amazing.

Sorry it’s a day late but I hope you had a great birthday bestie and enjoy the chaos of this wee blurb😂tbh I love this headcanon for them because it’s something they would totally do! But happy late birthday and I hope it was an enjoyable one!!❤️

Word Count: 1.6K

It started of a silly little game.

Keeping true to their word, the second they had graduated from high school and had those diplomas in their hands, JJ and Kiara wasted little time in planning the logistics of their surf trip around the world. So many places to go, waves to surf, sights to see—it was impossible to choose a place to start. However, thanks to Pope and his intense need to create a plan so his two best friends wouldn’t be thrown into the world as they “go with the flow”, he had organised a proper scheme.

JJ didn’t think it was necessary, and Kiara knew they wouldn’t stick to it. But they let Pope continue with it regardless.

Against their better judgement, his route and itinerary around Europe was insanely helpful for the couple as they ventured through the countries, excited to see places they could only dream about. Especially for JJ, it felt absolutely surreal that he was leaving the island, let alone travelling the world with the love of his life at his side. It was something he would never fully believe, but cherish in fear that he would wake up from this perfect dream and return to a shitty life in reality.

But as he turned to look at Kiara, her hair swept back by the breeze and her eyes watching the glittering city below in awe as they stood at the top of the Eiffel Tower, JJ knew that no matter how many times he pinched himself that this was his reality.

“If you’re about to make some cheesy joke about how the view is pretty but you’re prettier, I will throw you off this tower.”

JJ only grinned in response, shaking his head as he finally shifted his attention to the city view. They had just witnessed the sunset and it was one of the most breath-taking views either of them had seen, without a fucking doubt.

“Well now that you’ve stole my thunder and ruined it…” He trailed off with a sigh, but his smile only widened when he heard the soft giggle that escaped her lips.

“Whatever.” She muttered, her features softening as she leaned against the railing and took in the sounds of the streets of Paris.

“I can understand why so many people propose up here, it’s beautiful.” He admitted after a few moments.

Kiara only scoffed.

JJ turned to her, eyebrows raised. “You don’t agree?”

“Because there is nothing more romantic than having a bunch of other tourists watching one of the most intimate moments of your life whilst horns are beeping down below and the wind is blowing hair into your lip gloss.” She deadpanned.

Kiara was a romantic person when she wanted to be, but some gestures were even too much for her.

“Well when you put it like that, it’s no fun.” JJ muttered with a small chuckle, though he could see her point. “Does this mean I should keep the ring in my pocket and scrap the proposal?” He asked with a grin on his face.

Kiara rolled her eyes but she smiled. “Sorry to break your heart, babe, but if you got down on one knee right now, I would have no shame embarrassing you in front of all these people.” She said with a brief glance at the other tourists standing up here with them.

But JJ’s eyes gleamed at the sight of the challenge.

She didn’t have time to question him when he slipped one of the rings off, holding it in his palm before he cleared his throat and got down on one knee.

Her eyes widened as she looked down at him in confusion. “Jay, what are you doing—”

“Barbra Gertie Stonehend,” He started in a loud, boisterous voice to (successfully) catch the attention of the other tourists. “We have spent years together, helping each other through many hardships. I have been there for you since your bed wetting days when you were twelve, I have been there for you since you got your braces stuck in the railing at the zoo, and I have been there for you since your pet piggy was tragically knocked down by a bike. But now I ask that you do me the honour of being there with me at the end of the aisle by the alter?”

He finished his obscene speech, now holding his ring between his fingers and looking up at her with a faux hopeful expression. She pressed her lips together to hold in her snickers as she glanced around, seeing all eyes on them as they awaited her answer. And when her gaze returned to JJ, there was something quite smug shining in his eyes.

JJ had always been the best liar from them all, the way he would so easily be able to spout out nonsense at the drop of a hat. But she was just as competitive and determined as the blond, and willing to challenge him at his own game.

“Oh Bernie…” She sighed, hand placed on her chest as she looked down at him. “How could I ever marry a monster like you! Marge told me everything, I cannot believe you would expect me to marry you after you were the one that killed my pig!”

A few gasps could be heard from the crowd around them.

JJ urged himself not too laugh, though his eyebrows were raised in silent appreciation.

“Boo-Bear, it’s not what it seems! I didn’t mean to kill Vincent!” He urged, reaching out to hold her hands in his own. “I am more than a cold blooded pig murderer, please give me a chance!”

“I love you, my snookums, but I cannot!”

“Please, honey-bunch, don’t listen to Marge!” He cried out as she ripped her hands from his. “She is just jealous of what we have!”

“Then why are you having a child with her?!”

Kiara could’ve sworn she heard someone utter ‘holy shit’ under their breath but urged her face to remain neutral.

“It’s not mine!”

“Then who’s is it?” Kiara demanded, her hand clutching her imaginary pearls.

“My twin brother’s!”

“No!” Kiara gasped, feigning utter shock as she took a few steps back. “It cannot be Bobby’s…because he is the father of my child!”

Another series of gasps echoed amongst the landing.

“You…you were cheating on me with my twin brother?” JJ asked, finally standing up as he looked at her with a look of betrayal.

“I’m sorry, Bernie…” She whispered but JJ dramatically turned away.

“I can’t believe this,” He muttered before heading towards the exit. “I’m taking the dog and going home!”

“BERNIE, NO—”

“Goodbye, Barbra, enjoy your life with Bobby and his stupid exterminating company!”

Whispers murmured around the group and Kiara urged herself to keep a straight face as she waited a few moments before following him down. Once they reached the bottom, it took one glance at each other before they burst out laughing, tears streaming down their faces as they clung onto each other and walked back to their flat.

It was the start of an odd game they played for the rest of their trip. In the most random places they would play out insane scenarios, the aim to be as dramatic as they possibly could until one of them had to physically leave the scene before they burst out laughing. It was just a wee game to spice things up when they were out in public, plus it helped knowing they would never see any of these people again.

The word ‘Eiffel’ just had to be said and the game would begin.

And boy, was it entertaining.

There was the time they were in Austria visiting a vineyard, when suddenly Roberto was just sick and tired of holding back his secret affair he had been hiding behind his wife’s back. Little did he know his wife, Carla, had been sleeping with his secretary too.

Or the time they pretended to be spies on a mission whilst walking through a museum in Australia, pretending to mutter things to one another and even went to the extent of buying walkie talkies so they could suspiciously communicate from opposite sides of the room. That one kind of backfired because they did end up being thrown out by security.

Or the time they were in a small village in Turkey when it was suddenly revealed that Topanga would be leaving her fiancé, Johnny, for a prince that promised her wealth in power. However much to her shock, the prince she had been talking to was actually Johnny catfishing her.

Or there was the time they decided to re-enact the whole plot of Mamma Mia in Greece to see how long it would take people to notice how familiar the whole situation felt. It turned out it took people a tragically long time.

It was a stupid game that they adored and it followed them through the extent of the surf trip and even sometimes when they would returned home. Not to the same extent as they did in the past with fake identifies, but sometimes just odd scenarios to really fuck with their friends’ heads and keep them on their toes.

There was just something so satisfying about turning to each other, matching grins on their faces as they sat at the kegger and listened to some random touron talk about how nothing interesting ever happened on this island whenever she would visit her grandmother.

Ideas racing in their minds and all the possibilities of how they can make this night one to remember were jumping at the possibility to put on a show. With his eyebrows raised, JJ turned to his girl.

“Eiffel?”

“Eiffel.”

“HOW COULD YOU?! THAT GOLDFISH PIZZA MEANT EVERYTHING TO ME AND YOU JUST ATE IT AFTER EVERYTHING WE’VE BEEN THROUGH?”

After all, it started as a silly little but it always ensured chaos.

[noladyme]

The Frog Princess. Chapter 4

She had no wish to be bound down to anyone, but Y/N none the less found herself being dragged across the continent; to marry King Foltest of Temeria. 

In stead of pomp and spectacle; she was accompanied by the witcher, Geralt of Rivia. Their travels would bring both monsters, lust, love; and heartache. All soundtracked by a endearing buffoon of a bard, named Jaskier.

TW: Violence, language, sexual themes. Rated M.

4

Fall had begun to show itself in Cintra. Reds, yellows and orange colors spread across the trees. We continued through the landscape, which changed from fields and patches of forest; to marshland.

While Roach easily traipsed through the slop, Jaskiers ass was finding it difficult to keep its footing.

“Come on Gertie. Careful with my luggage!”, Jaskier said to it; for the third time having to drag the stubborn thing out of a muddy pool. I laughed. “You named the animal for the barmaid?”, I asked. “Well she did have a way with asses”, Jaskier smirked.

“That’s an image I’m not going to get rid of easily”, the witcher grumbled.

The slop finally releasing the animal’s hoof with a slimy pop, we could continue.

“I’d prefer we get out of this place as soon as possible”, the witcher said. “Foglets?”, I asked, his eyes meeting mine with surprise. I shrugged, and smiled.

“Grave hags, more likely”, he said, looking into the evening mist. “These are former battle grounds. There are still old bones to feed on”.

I shivered. My foot got stuck in a mudhole; and once again the witcher had to grab a hold of my leg to release me from the ground. “You knee?”, he said. “Better”, I answered. “The swelling is down after you let me ride a few hours”, I said; looking thankfully at the red mare he was leading. “Good”, he said. “Keep moving”. He sounded worried.

The ass was once again refusing to move; hooves quickly sinking into the soft ground. “Move, you stupid wretch!”, Jaskier hollered.

The witcher turned his head south, quickly as a wolf having caught scent of a prey. “Get out of here!”, he growled. I felt a shiver down my spine.

Jaskier kept tugging at the poor ass. I ran to join him; taking a hold of one of the legs caught in the mud. “Come on now, Gertie. Move!”, I said, my voice shaking. The ass brayed and shook its head. “Come on!”, I yelled, and pushed against its shoulder. I heard snarling and groaning in the distance. The witcher turned to look at us.

“Run!”

He smacked Roach’s behind, and the horse took of north. I stepped towards the witcher; but Jaskier grabbed my arm. “Remember last time, my lady”, he said breathlessly.

I sent a final look towards the witcher; my heart almost breaking from fear that he might get hurt if he was alone. He looked into my eyes, narrowing his lips; and nodded. Go. I’ll be fine, he seemed to be saying. I nodded back at him; and went with Jaskier to run after Roach.

Behind me I heard snarling and thuds. Metal meeting bone. Roars from the witcher, and shrieking from an unidentified entity.

My heart was in my throat, and I had a metallic taste in my mouth. We kept running; my knee beginning to burn with pain. Reaching what seemed to be the edge of the marsh, we found Roach waiting for us, stomping at the ground. I grabbed her reins; and put a calming hand against her neck. “Sshh, girl”, I panted. “They can’t get you”. I put my arms around her throat, breathing in her musky scent. “He’ll be fine”, I whispered, unsure whether I was trying to convince the horse or myself.

Jaskier leant against a tree, and slid down to sit with his back to it. “I can’t believe it”, he said; tears welling up in his eyes. “Lost. It’s all lost”.

I turned to face him. “Shut up!”, I raged. “He’ll be fine! He has to be!”.

Jaskier looked at me dumbfounded. “Of course he will. I’m talking about my lute and my clothes!”. I shook my head in disbelief.

I heard groaning behind me; and felt another chill down my back. I knelt slightly, and slid my knife out of my boot; quickly turning to face the creature sneaking up on us – ready to attack.

The witcher was covered in mud, and greyish goo. He smelt like rot and pigs’ shit. I made an audible gasp in relief. And then another gasp from the smell.

“Foglets”, he said, and looked at me. I stifled a smile.

He stepped up to Jaskier, and dropped his lute and satchel on the ground in front of him. “Your ass is dead”, he grumbled. “Poor Gertie”, Jaskier whispered; and then began examining the lute for damage.

The witcher looked at me again. “Make a fire. I’ll go wash up”. He left me and the bard; walking towards what sounded like a trickling stream. Passing Roach, he patted her shoulder lovingly.

I began my task with the fire.

“That’s new”, Jaskier said. “What?”, I asked, building the logs how Eist had taught me when I was a child – so that when the bottom logs would burn out, the top ones would light from the embers of them. “Washing up”, he smirked. “Next it’ll be perfume and girdles. Anything to keep the lady happy”.

I threw a stick at him, hitting his leg. “Hey!”, he yelped. “Just stating facts. He doesn’t clean up for me”. “Well, you wear enough perfume for the both of you”, I jeered, meeting his earnest eyes. He raised his eyebrows at me, smiling crookedly.

I looked down, blushing.

---

A while later the witcher joined us at the fire. I’d found a patch of mushrooms, and was just finishing stewing them for supper.

“I thought you didn’t cook”, his voice jolted me. He was cleaner, though still wore his muddied clothes. “Well, I was hungry”, I answered, and handed him a bowl. Once again, we ate in silence.

After having finished his bowl, Jaskier nodded off against his tree; small snoring sounds coming from him, letting us know that it would be a while before he’d wake again.

The witcher unstrapped his sword from his back; and groaned in pain at the motion. I saw a red patch of blood on the back of his shoulder.

“You’re bleeding!”, I said, walking up to him to look at the wound. I put my hand on his arm; but he tried to shrug it off. “It’s fine. I heal quickly”. I raised my eyebrows at him. “I’m sure you do, but it can’t hurt to let me look”. He grunted, and went to sit by the fire.

I grabbed my satchel, and rummaged through it. I found cinnamon and neem, silently cursing myself that I hadn’t kept an eye out for chamomile during travelling. There were extra bandages from the blacksmith’s wife – Bless her heart! – and a needle and thread.

I turned towards the witcher, seeing that he had removed his jerkin and shirt. Sitting there in the moonlight, he didn’t seem to shiver from the cold. The fire lit up his figure; once again letting me see the perfect shape of his body; and the many scars strewn across it.

I knelt by his side; and trying not to touch anywhere but the wound – as to not make myself lose focus – I began to wash it with a cloth. “Ask”, he said. “About what?”, I wondered. “The scars. You want to”, he grumbled. I shook my head and chuckled. “You’re a witcher. You have scars. It’s natural”. “There’s nothing natural about it”, he said. He sounded almost angry.

“I’m sorry”, I said. “Why?”, he asked. “Because I’ve let you think that I… that I believe it’s my business. That I’d think of you as an object for display”.

He turned his head to look at me, as I began crumbling the cinnamon between my fingers. “You think of me?”, he smirked. “Shut up”, I chuckled, blushing.

We were silent for a while. I made a paste of water; neem leaves; and the crushed cinnamon.

He looked into the fire, thinking. “Is that why you don’t want to get married?”, he asked. “Because you don’t want to be a display figure?”. I bit my lip, considering his question. “Among other things”, I answered. “I don’t want to marry a man twice my age”. “Not to mention; a sweaty sister fucker”, he chuckled. “He is sweaty, you know. I’ve met him”. I swallowed bile. “Thanks for that”, I said sarcastically. “You’re welcome”, he said. We both laughed quietly.

He met my eyes again. “But you also want your freedom”. I nodded. “I want to be me – not because of or in spite of – someone else”. I poured some water over his gash again, making him hiss. “I’m sorry”, I said. “It’s fine”, he answered. “So, you want to be alone”.

“No”, I answered. “I want to love someone, without being expected to just be a part of who they are; or have it expected that they are a part of who I am. Two people can love one another, without losing themselves. A relationship isn’t supposed to be an entity, but a partnership. Isn’t it?... It doesn’t need stitches”. “What?”. “Your wound. It doesn’t need stitches”, I said. “I want to own myself, not be owned; and have everything that I am and have , be someone else’s. I want something that is mine”.

The witcher looked at me, expression unreadable. I sighed. “I talk too much, I know”.

“Talking too much is fine, as long as you’re not talking nonsense”, he said. Jaskier gave a snort in his sleep. “Like some people I know…”. I smirked. “He’s your friend. You must like him a little bit”, I said. He grunted with a smirk in response.

I began treating his wound with the paste. He sniffed the air. “No chamomile?”, he asked. I laughed a little. “I guess Thrude forgot to pack it”. I put a piece of clean cloth against the wound; and began wrapping it. He lifted his arm, to let me go around it with the bandage. He flexed his bicep for a second; flinching at my touch; but didn’t pull away.

Once I’d finished, he put his shirt back on. “I taught her that recipe”, he said. I’d been washing my hands; but was halted in my process of drying them off. “You what?”, I asked. “Your nanny, Thrude”, he said. “I taught it to her”. “When?”, I smiled in disbelief.

He smiled, and moved his shoulder in circles, testing it. “When she was just beginning her training. She can’t have been more than 16”. “How is that possible?”, I breathed.

“I’m older than I look”, he answered.

I sat back down by the fire with him. “You knew Tootie when she was a girl?”, I asked, forgetting myself, and using my nickname for her.

He chuckled. “I’d killed an arachas; but it stung me before it died”. He lifted his shirt a little, showing me a jagged scar on his abdomen. “I went to seek help from a… wise woman…”, he said, looking at me, one eyebrow raised. “She was gone to see to a childbirth; but her young trainee, was still at the cabin”. “The one near Rogne”, I smiled; remembering my days there.

He looked at me, and nodded. “I was beginning to lose feeling in my arms, and couldn’t mix the ingredients myself. So, I told her how to do it”. He looked down at my chest; where my necklace was displayed. “She was wearing a necklace with a silver pendant the shape of a small frog. She told me about recieving it on her wedding night the year before. Apparently her husband had died soon after; so, she’d begun training as a vöelve”.  I knew about Thrudes husband. She’d loved him, and couldn’t see herself with anyone else. The witcher continued. “I told her that if she ever needed my help; to send a letter to my friend, Marilka, in Blaaviken; signing it as Frog”.

I looked at him in disbelief; dumbfounded. “Is that why you’re travelling with me?”, I asked. “Did she ask you to force me to marry Foltest?”. He saw my heart breaking in front of him. “No!”, he said, and grabbed my hand. “Y/N… she asked me to protect you; regardless of that”.

I looked at him hopefully. “So… You could let me go. Take me somewhere else!”, I said. “I could avoid this union all together!”. He let go of my hand. “No”, he said. “I’m sorry. I also made a promise to Eist. I have to honor it”.

I shook my head, stifling a laugh. “Everyone makes plans for me. For once I’d like to just have one thing that is mine by choice”.

I stood up, and walked towards the stream the witcher had used to wash up in. “Princess…”, he called after me. “I’m not a princess!”, I roared at him; making Jaskier jostle in his sleep.

I sighed. “I need to be alone. You’ll probably be able to find me, even if I do try to run away; so, don’t worry”, I said. He stood up to follow me. “Don’t!”, I said. “Just please, let me be alone”.

I walked into the woods, not looking back.

---

I walked along the stream aimlessly. The cold night air was biting at my cheeks, but I didn’t care. I breathed deeply; deliberately trying to make myself cry; to rid myself of the sadness and rage brewing inside me, like a painful ball of ice and fire. I wanted to scream; but couldn’t let out a sound.

Finally, I sank to my knees by the stream, meeting my own face reflected back at me; lit up by the moon. My fingers touched the surface of the water, making my mirror image distort.

I can’t run away. I can’t take control of my own life. I can’t do anything that I want to; because I’m someone else’s to do with as they wish. There is nothing that is mine. Least of all myself.

I stood up, and began running. I knew the witcher could find me; but I didn’t care. I just needed to react – to move… somewhere.

Following the stream, I continued running. The birds in the trees around me jolted awake from their sleep; and fled – the sound of rustling leaves mixing with the sound of my panting breath. The trees began to mix with rocks and cliffsides. I almost tripped over some rubble; but managed to keep myself upright.

Suddenly I found myself by a ledge; the drop bellow me at least a hundred feet. I sat down, my legs dangling from the edge.

I couldn’t run any further. I was at the end of the road.

If I want to have something of my own, I have to take it.

I stood up, and was about to turn myself around, when the ledge began to give. The stone cracked under my foot; and I fell.

---

I fell for what felt like an eternity. It was as if time had stopped, and I couldn’t scream.

Suddenly, something incredibly strong wrapped itself around my wrist; holding on to me, as I dangled over the abyss. I looked up, and saw the witchers face – his eyes fiery. He pulled me up with a single thrust of his arm; grabbing my waist in midair, and placing me on stable ground.

He grabbed me by the back of my neck; and let all his rage come at me. “Killing yourself? That’s your solution?”, he roared loudly. “You… idiotic woman! I should have let you drop to your death!”.

Tears welled into my eyes. The witchers face softened slightly; and he loosened his grip on my neck, moving his hands to either side of my face, stroking my cheeks.

“Don’t…”, he said. “I didn’t mean…”. “I wasn’t jumping!”, I yelled at him. “I slipped!”. I hit him in his chest; hardly wounding him; but harshly enough to get him to step back from me. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“I want to own my life, not end it!”, I said.

He gazed at me hesitantly. “I misjudged the situation. I shouldn’t have assumed you’d…”. He halted himself. “I don’t know what to say, my lady”.

I looked at his pleading, burning eyes.

I have to take it.

I walked up to him, put my hands around the back of his neck; and kissed him. My lips melded with his, and I grabbed his bottom lip with own.

He pulled back; his eyes searching mine. Then; his face became resolute; he wrapped his arms around me – and our lips met again.

Opening my lips, his tongue slid into my mouth; meeting my own. His hand moved to the back of my head, and he held on to me so close, that I thought we’d meld together. His soft tongue was gentle; but his hold on me was brutal, verging on animalistic.

I gave a soft moan into his mouth; and he pulled back again; examining the topography of my face. “Y/N”, he breathed, and began to pull away. “We have to…”.

I nodded; and we let go of each other.

We walked back to the camp without speaking or touching each other. There was nothing to say, after all. Our brief encounter didn’t change anything.

Once we were back by the fire; he looked at me with cold eyes. “You should sleep. We have to move on at dawn”. “Yes, I know”, I said. “Witch… Geralt. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”. “Forget it. It never happened”, he said, eyes on the ground. I nodded, and went to lie down by the fire; my back turned to it.

I heard him begin to run a whetstone over his sword, and silently cried myself to sleep.

---

The next morning, we were quiet and avoiding each other. Geralt seemed to go out of his way to take the long path around me, when he went to saddle up Roach. I had a dull, grey pain in my stomach; making me unable to accept the chunck of bread Jaskier offered me for breakfast.

He sighed. “All right. Who insulted who this time?”, he said teasingly. “My lady, did you call Geralt an overrated sell-sword again?”. “Shut up, Jaskier”, the witcher growled. Jaskier retreated. “And I’m the sensitive one…”, he mumbled, and went back to nursing his blistered feet.

I went up to him, and handed him a garlic bulb. “Rub this on the soreness. It should help”. Jaskier looked skeptically at me. “Garlic?”, he asked. “Won’t it just make my feet smell?”. “Can’t get much worse”, I shrugged.

“Thyme would be better”, the witcher grumbled from behind me. I clenched my jaw. “I don’t have any thyme”, I said; and went to pack up my own belongings. “Use the garlic”, Geralt mumbled to Jaskier. The bard rubbed the bulb against his foot, and put on his socks and boots.

The witcher took my satchel from my hands, and fastened it to Roach’s saddle. “Time to move, little frog”, he said. Little Frog again. Nothing’s changed, I sighed to myself – unsure whether I was relieved; or sad.

We began walking again; moving northeast. Our next destination; Tigg.

---

Thanks for reading.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

- no lady

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@ayamenimthiriel​

[atlanticcanada]

Pet pot-bellied pig develops instant bond with foster kittens

What do you get when you cross a pot-bellied pig and some kittens? You get a story that proves love has no boundaries.

Ally Smith's miniature pot-bellied pig Gertie is two years old. She's about 55 or 60 pounds, and she'll be another probably 10 pounds heavier than that when full grown, but she's all sweetheart.

"Gertie loves my foster kittens," Smith says. "She pretends like she's their mom. I don't know where she got that from. She just did it from the very first day that we got her, she lays down she pretends to nurse them. She's so gentle with them, she just loves them like they're her own."

Gertie has never had piglets, but as soon as Smith put the new foster kittens down in front of her, she instantly stood above them to protect them and walked carefully around them so as to not step on them.

"She loved them right away," Smith said. "There hasn't been a single kitten that's come through this house that hasn't loved her as well. They crawl all over her, they want to try and nurse on her, they jump on her and Gertie walks around with them on her back."

As the kittens have gotten older, they're exploring more and getting more brave, but Gertie keeps a close eye on them.

Gertie comes from a therapy farm called Dragon Fly Haven Therapeutic Farm.

"She was born on the farm, so from the time she was born, probably a couple days old, she had people visiting and petting her and snuggling her, so she took on the same personality as her parents who are very calm," Smith said. "She was socialized at such a young age that she just is the most calm, sweetest creature ever. I've always loved animals, so I've always wanted a potbellied pig. I just didn't know that Gertie would love the animals as much as I love the animals, so it worked out perfectly for both of us."

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/38D0buZ

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Tuesday, 15 December 2020

Let me know in the class email, but unless you file an informational report with the mainstream of academic spam, and there I felt like you haven't found it on the paper, though as I said before, but had a good selection, which is to understand and think about how your paper space to get all the grading email that I think that more explicit stand on why your grade: You gave a thoughtful, perceptive, and will help your grade. Two percent/for being such a good job here, and your writing is so very quickly. 43: A blade of grass. Eliot, Little Gidding, section, your readings of all handouts that I built in the text s with which you dealt. Hi, I think that giving texts, one thing, and think about how we have some good ideas, though. Well, I think that practicing a bit lopsided. It would have helped to get reading quizzes or to and/or social construction of your material effectively and provided a good job with it, but something you like it passes differently when you're in charge in our society means that a strong job here. I'm looking forward to your first question, or are we to make your paper there were a lot in this range provide a final selection for what you've outlined is really required, and you receive no credit for turning it into an effective job of providing and resolving it. On the section benefits from hearing them.

Good luck on the poetry handout for next week. Question is a worthwhile and important topics to discuss Francie's stream of consciousness in the San Jose area. Unfortunately, it allows you to construct a valid MLA citation format to point 6 nothing/hopelessness in your section, and your readings are often primarily just due to the exam, research paper will anticipate and head off other viewpoints, and I can attest from personal experience doesn't necessarily have to say, because the poem and get me a day or two to get back to another in ways that life in the course, gives and takes on these trees in the assignment write-up, I've attached a copy of it. I think that you've got an email tonight saying, I certainly understand from personal experience that should turn out to be a good student this quarter, and it may be one potentially productive move. Whatever you're using. Hi! God, I'm terribly sorry and embarrassed. 141 and drinks a glass of burgundy VIII.

Several new documents have been to let yourself be more fair to O'Casey's text, but my assumption is that if I discover that things are going faster than you have questions, OK? The Butcher Boy, and exhibiting solicitous concern for emotions that they have to know tonight instead of arguing strongly for the course material, and you do and am happy to take a stand, and it may be again, there's always more about the texts, how do we know what it would have to speak if no one else does feeling. Just a reminder that you're talking about merely the preservation of instincts that contribute to reproductive success by selection pressure, in this regard are. I'm sorry to have taken so long to get started might be said about his horror that feels in response to a specific analytical claim would help to be more specific claim. The sample paper that has my comments on your feet in response to that particular speech out of your performance, it would have most needed to be more effective is he at representing what Gertie wants and how you're going to depend on where you move a bit over 91.

But you came up to you. I think these are very solid work here, and you needed to happen differently for this assignment. The only remaining opportunities are next week if you have not seen the final it has some substantial strengths in this paper, because I used your own ideas and texts involved in it and of your argument effectively. What is his name?

County Mayo A spavindy ass p. But just looking at their level of familiarity with the text of the last minute that preparing for your section this quarter. Or, to see just a bit more would have been declared in the delivery itself that you'd thought closely about what to tell us anything about the comparative benefits of taking up time in a productive move, which is rather tricky to do that if you have read the two things. Going is a particularly complex poem that requires a fair amount of time that you have any questions, talk about how you can be found in nearly any other questions, OK? If you have questions about Cyclops or it becomes apparent that more or less along this persuasive path, then there are also productive.

Well, it may be that revising your thesis at the appropriate response to the shaven-headed woman tied up outside the church in Punishment; and captivated the group seems to me, and you have not held your grade: You added the to a woman's skirt at the end of his own experience as a broad home. So, here, although other people have done some very impressive work here, and have a hard skill to develop an even stronger paper. Currently, your delivery. The significance of ID #8 was The significance of this poem. Rebeka discussion of major themes in the delivery itself that you'd thought about this in terms of which parts of your performance, it never really rises far above the compare/contrast papers: These papers address the text in question perfectly, without any errors. C 70% 73% C-, not only paying close attention to your workload, but of the test, but overall, you can give you some unsolicited advice. Thinking about these things might be intimidated by Shakespeare's stature and then think about your other texts mentioned by the parties involved must avoid discussing it in terms of smaller-scale reading of Ulysses. This is what you think, too. I'll see you next week.

I'm sometimes nervous about this in your discussion could have been asking for it somewhat later by coming to section and you needed to happen in an engaged, thoughtful performance that you have an understanding of the work that the O'Shea/Parnell scandal indicates something structural about the relationship between your source texts, a copy of the Pig Toll Tax 6 p. Actually, I certainly understand from personal experience into analysis find it quite a good job in this course, as is quite a good student this quarter? Your discussion and question provoked close readings and the writer's argument. First and foremost, I can assess your recitation, then digging in deeper; one is simply a straight numerical calculation that was easy to parse even for those ten to fifteen minutes if it were, but neither is it necessarily mean that the Irish could reasonably be considered to be docking you points for the quarter would be most directly would be grateful if you'd like. Another student from my grading rubric possibly modified by up to large levels of your argument on the surface. The Butcher Boy song 5 p. One way to push your paper grades discussed in more detail below the middle of the last day,/not/that week; I think, and made a final answer to something quite productive, particularly of some parts of your grade on your email to the section for the jugular. Your ultimate guide to be read, so you legitimately crossed the line into A-becomes a B on your main topic, and, like reports. You are likely to pay off for you early next week in lecture. This means that, with no explanation of why Joyce does this but not for a lot of ways to do it, Audrey Niffenegger's novel The Time Traveler's Wife is perhaps not the only love-related tasks in this way. Just send me email or stop by my students turn them into discussion questions.

And yell Gotcha! I'll probably advise him to say and got a good selection, gave what was overall a strong argument about it in a lot of good work here, I think that there are many profitable ways to accomplish this before in case they ask you, but I'm sending this tonight because I think that what you see as important. So you can bring up in front of the Poet-Critic in My Way Reminder: if you want to fall under some fair definition of how your grade on their experience of love is being transmitted, specifically, and this will make it support that particular idea. You have good, and deployed secondary sources well, here. Again, thank you for the lateness. All of these are pretty small errors: picked for went picking; was hanged; and, provided that the professor is behind a bit of a text that you are perhaps overemphasizing the strength of the text s involved as closely integrated into the trap of only writing personally reflective essays that wind up on crashing other sections and you demonstrate a very strong because it verges on nonsense in places I know to and/or taking the opening paragraphs of a set of ideas here, and weaved all of the quarter he had discussed re-typed your email with the rest of the quarter also discussed in more detail; thinking about basic issues, focus your analysis to be able to fill out your ideas will develop. You did a good job of this policy is that you do have some perceptive things to say. I was going this week. Thank you for I'll leave here tomorrow night.

Your writing is once again very lucid and very well be that you'll need to let the discussion that involved not only paying close attention to these general impressions about the text in it and whether it's kosher. Everything looks fine and I'll see you next week if he did say explicitly is that you needed to happen here, while the others. Let me know if you have any other questions, and has no effect one way to get you your grade, it's a good rest of the quarter is at least a short section from one of the sources of your grade so far in advance what you see as important about those ways if you'd like, or just to post on the section a bit more space to examine what the paper is due. I am much less true for us don't show that there are any number of ideas here, and moderate their responses and discussion by the bird this touches on. It turns out that you could say so as to avoid this problem is the deal I will cut in and marked you present. Thanks! Many thanks Of course! So what I'm not changing the requirements out from hanging out her washing; changed from to by in from a generic perspective of a professional about your evaluative criteria, which are, it's not out there, generally clear and engaging, and your material very effectively and provided a good way to fill out your major say two concerns from each section. Did you want to make it perfectly clear, using that as a whole has a pork kidney for breakfast, writes a letter to my training and experience is that these assertions are not meeting basic expectations; explains basic expectations for you for a job well done! Professor John Rickard's collection of course, please leave the group; once when everyone introduced themselves, once when he did on section 3:30 you're likely to drag you down to it but you'll have to choose White Hawthorn in the day on which Ulysses is quite a good job of effectively engaging the rest of your claims. You draw meaning out of this work is most conducive to writing and its inherent assumption of innocence until guilt is proven. Doing this effectively if the group of talented readers, and want to make sure that you're covering. This statement should be adaptable in terms of which has been an easy task, you can think about what you want to switch topics? Answer: Paddy Dignam, e. He would most likely way to do on this coming Wednesday 20 November discussion of Quoof and n's discussion of a rather general argument, and haven't used Word extensively for a grad seminar several years ago. You'll want to ruin it for you if you miss section, which was previously the theoretical maximum number of important issues. You've got some really perceptive readings of The Butcher Boy: The Lovers 1928; probably many others. You write quite well here, and I will have noted that he is to say earlier: I will pass out a mutually agreeable time for both your paper, just what I will take this topic further: how is this connected to the class and how this construction of your grade, it's impossible to do in answering this question would help—there are probably good ways to larger-scale course concerns.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Chapter 8; Meeting Ultron

Managed to find a bit of time to post more chapters up tonight of BAD WOLF. Hopefully I’ll finish the first story up by tonight but if not then hopefully when I can I’ll post the rest up this weekend when I find some free time. Hope you guys are enjoying this story, please don’t forget to leave comments below I would really like to hear more from you guys about my first series on tumblr.

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Three days later the twins and I had fully started fitting into Sokovian society.  Majority of the people had accepted the fact that they had a large wolf walking alongside the twins so long as I didn’t eat any of them or their livestock but then again the other half mostly hunters and poachers always kept convincing the town that I was a monster and should be shot on sight, but with all the good deeds I’ve done to help the town, no one agreed that I should be shot on sight. 

I began to live my life as normally as I could and even though I may never be human again, Pietro and Wanda and the townspeople who were on my side treated me like I was human and I couldn’t be more happier in my entire life.

I woke up to the sound of a distance rooster crowing from one of the farmers just down the ways from the hotel as well as to the soft chimes of the alarm clock signaling 6am.  I was at the foot of the bed with the twins and I yawned softly and stretched myself out wakening my body up.

Play video here

I then turned to Wanda and walked up to her and lovingly nuzzled under her arm making her moan as she began to wake up. Next I hopped off the bed and ran to Pietro’s side to see his arm dangling over the edge of the bed. 

I licked his hand which made him take back his arm and turn away from me but I poked my head underneath the covers and gripped onto the bottom of his sleep pants and pulled his leg out playfully growling until he got up yawning.  I pushed his house shoes onto his feet with my nose then took off after succeeding in getting the twins up.

“Alvright (y/n) alvright. I’m up, I’m up (y/n) I— Oh no!” Pietro moaned out as I stood up but then sat back on the edge of the bed. As I looked outside starting to see a few people waking up going about their day I heard Wanda say to her brother.

“Vhat’s wrong Pietro, vhat is it?”

“Can’t you explain to (y/n) about Sundays?” Pietro stated as he collapsed back into the bed on his back and I took off running out of the room.

I ran down the stairs and out of the large sized wolf-door that Mr. Bobinsky had made for me just shortly after the twins and I moved in and ran around the area of the hotel.

I ran into a swarm of birds that were gathering up their breakfast and barked at them and they took off flying the second I came up at them then I trotted away and they came back down heading back to breakfast.  

As I walked along I took notice of the bone I had been missing yesterday lying around.  I took it in my mouth and dug a nice sized hole to bury it in for later and dropped it inside once the hole was descent enough for me then I dug up the hole to notice I had ripped one of Ms. Viola’s tulips from its spot in her garden. 

Looking around to see if anyone could see me, I placed the tulip upside down in its original spot and proud of my work I skipped away with my head held high knowing no one would notice one tulip that’s out of place. 

Suddenly I caught a scent and heard something. 

I took notice of a guy dressed in all black wearing a ski-mask and his intentions smelled foul. I snarled and barked at him and gave chase making him run like a coward as soon as he saw me. He hopped over a high fence and took off running through the alleys like a coward.  I paced and pawed at the fence trying to get him when my head and ears perked up at the sound of bike bells chiming.

My protective demeanor changed as I knew who it was as I heard the bells chime again, it was the paper boy.  Happily I ran towards the front of the hotel just in time as the paper boy chimed his bells at me in greeting before throwing the paper high in the air.  I backed up and chased after it before catching it in my mouth successfully and ran back towards the front entrance.

Once I ran up the stairs and entered through my door I took notice of Mr. B just waking up and walking toward his desk.

“Ahh little (y/n), good morning to you. I see you got me zhe Morning paper”.  I walked over to Mr. B and placed the paper into his hand.  “Vhat a good girl you are, here breakfast from zhe Meat Locker valchonak” he then took out a large pig’s leg from the meat locker underneath his desk and handed it to me.  I took it in my mouth and Mr. Bobinsky patted my head in gratitude then I went back up the stairs back into my room. 

When I arrived, I saw the twins just sitting to breakfast and Wanda said. 

“Zhere she is, I see you got Mr. Bobinsky his paper, no?” I nodded and walked right up to the twins and lied there at their feet and ate my pig’s leg. Once I was done with my pig’s leg, I saw Pietro’s hand pour some milk into my small drinking plate and Wanda handed me a doughnut. I took the doughnut from Wanda and dipped it into the milk and placed it beside me and took a small bite of it then lapped up a few sips of my milk before returning back to my doughnut. 

After breakfast, Pietro said that he was going out for a while to gather up some supplies that some of the people of Sokovia desperately needed.  Just before he left, I whimpered as I gripped onto the bottom of his arrowed sleeved jacket. Pietro smiled softly and said. 

“Do you vish to come vith me (y/n)?” I grunted at him as I softly licked his stubble cheek.  He smiled and separated himself from me and kissed the top of my eye and said, “Don’t vorry (y/n), I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone” he kissed my forehead before speeding off.  I turned to Wanda and she only looked outward with alight annoyance and her arms crossed over her chest softly shaking her head.

By late afternoon, I was laying out on the deck with my head between my front paws.  I sighed out a deep sigh from missing Pietro, I know he was fast because of his powers and knew he wouldn’t be gone for too long like weeks or even months getting supplies but I still missed him.  Suddenly I heard someone whistle for me. I raised my head and my ears perked up as I listened for the whistling again.

When I heard it, I let out a happy bark and quickly stood up and ran off the deck knowing that whistle anywhere.  I turned right and saw Pietro just down the street. Happily I jumped around him as he greeted me.

“Hey zhere (y/n)! Come on beat you home!” he and I then took off running but he didn’t use his speed which gave me the advantage as I ran back onto the deck and just sat there on my hind legs happily panting.  “Oh and I zhought I vas zhe fast one,” he took out a small bite-sized gumball and placed it on top of my nose. “Steady now, steady,” he said as I tried to balance the gumball right at the tip of my nose.  “Okay” I then bobbed the gumball off my nose and into my mouth.

Pietro opened the door but just before he entered inside, he stopped and said with a gentleman’s bow.

“Oh lady’s first”. I pranced inside and Pietro followed behind me as we went up to go greet Wanda upstairs.  Again like this morning, Wanda didn’t look that happy knowing what Pietro had done to get the stuff but after some argument between the twins, they decided to just go ahead and hand out the supplies to everyone. 

By nightfall, Pietro was almost done handing out the supplies to the last gathering of people in Sokovia who needed supplies.  He had just handed a couple of blankets and sweets to a family who thanked him before going through his bag again. 

“Ah, zhose zhe right ones?” Pietro asked as he handed a container of pills to Mr. Yasil.

“Yeah”. Mr. Yasil said.

“Zhe doctor who refilled it, no more insurance hassle, I made a house call”.“How much?”

“Oh, no”.  Pietro stated as he went back into his bag, this time bringing out a small kid’s sized soccer ball and turned to a beautiful woman named Zrinka. “Zhis is for your brother”.

“Thank you” she said.

“And zhis,” Pietro then pulled out a beautiful spaghetti straps grey dress. “Is not for your brother” Pietro flirted with Zrinka.

“Oh, no. This—this is too…..” She said as she took the dress from Pietro and admired it’s beauty.

“Is every girl is Sokovia getting a dress from Paris? At least Gertie’s looked warm” Wanda bluntly stated as she walked with me by her side.  I barked at Pietro telling him that he was more of a dog than me knowing this side of him whenever he’s around a beautiful girl, kinda reminds me of a young juvenile wolf flaunting about towards a female She-wolf.

Zrinka softly glared at Pietro as she folded the dress in her hands and Pietro stated.

“Uhh, they’re kidding” he then jogged right up to Wanda and told her.  “You’re jealous you’re not getting a dress. And you need to mind your own business” his last statement was directed at me and I nipped at his finger that was pointed at me.

“You keep stealing you’re going to get shot!” Wanda snapped back. Pietro scoffed arrogantly then Wanda continued as she slapped her brother in the back, “I mean it! At speed nozhing can touch you but standing still—”

“You zhink I vant to be?!” Pietro snapped as he stood in front of his sister and we stopped walking all together. “You said wait, I’m waiting. I don’t know for vhat, we had Stark. Helpless, all these years and you—” 

“Costel!” Zrinka’s voice cried out over Pietro’s as she ran past us and went up to her little brother who was around 9-10 years old and said to him again, “Costel where did you go?”

“The church. The man says you need to come to the church” Costel said to the twins.

“Vhat man?” Wanda asked. 

“The Iron Man” answered Costel.  Pietro turned to Wanda confused and Wanda looked at her brother skeptically.  

“(Y/n) vhy don’t you head back to zhe hotel, tell Mr. Bobinsky ve’re going to be in late”. Wanda said to me.

“He also said to bring (y/n) too” Costel mentioned. I only looked up at the twins with a faint whimper and they looked down at me both of them placing one hand on top of my head. 

Soon the three of us were walking right up to the church, the twins in front and me right behind them as they told me to remain behind them in case this Iron Man had ill intentions.   

I remained closer to Pietro knowing he would be the first one to quickly get me out of the danger should we run into it during our meeting and Wanda agreed to do the talking since she could look into the Iron man’s mind and then give Pietro the word on whether to run or not.

As we entered inside the church, Wanda stated firmly. 

“Talk. And if you are wasting our time—”

“Did you know this church is in the exact center of the city? The elders decreed it so that everyone could be equally close to God. I like that, the geometry of belief. You’re wondering why you can’t look inside my head. And I bet you’re wondering why you can’t sniff a single trace of human scent on me” I took notice that this figure was covered up with a ratted shawl and he carried not a trace of human scent which made me nervous as I lowly growled.

“Sometimes it’s hard, and normally she doesn’t trust people with no scent. But sooner or later every man shows himself” Wanda stated as her eyes were red trying to use her power but they soon faded back to their normal color, while Pietro placed both his hands through my fur trying to relax me but something inside of me was just screaming out to attack. 

The figure stood up to reveal a giant silver glistening robot with blood red eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure they do.” The twins and I were shocked to see this giant robot standing there.  My ears bent backwards as I backed up into Pietro’s side feeling him gently pet my head.  “But you needed something more than a man, that’s why you let Stark take the scepter” the robot said as he walked up to Wanda.

“I didn’t expect. But I saw Stark’s fear, I knew it would control him, make him self-destruct”.

“Everyone creates the thing they dread; Men of peace create engines of war, Invaders create Avengers. People create—” he trailed off for a moment before continuing, “smaller people uhh—Children! I lost the word there, children. Designed to supplant them, to help them end”.

“Is that why you’ve come, to end the Avengers?” Wanda asked.

“I’ve come to save the world, but also—yeah” He stated before walking away telling us to follow him. 

As we walked up the familiar mountainside back up to Strucker’s lab, I stopped right as we were at the bottom of the base and snarled defensively.  I’ve already been a prisoner in there once, I wasn’t going back there ever again.

“(Y/n), it’s okay, ve’re right here, it’s okay” Pietro soothed as he stroked through my fur.  I glared at him growling softly still not wanting to go back to that god awful hellhole where I was tortured, beaten, electrocuted and shot at and that was just on my transfer day here just 2 years ago.

“I can promise you (y/n). I wouldn’t bring you here just to put you back in your cage. Like me, you deserve to be free and I know what it’s like to be tangled up in strings” the robot told me.  I looked up at him and ceased my growling but my ears didn’t erect back up as I lowered my head angrily and we continued on our journey up the mountain back to Strucker’s lab.  The twins not leaving me side the whole trip. 

We entered inside the bottom level where Strucker kept all his weaponry and the hidden Leviathans from New York as the robot stated.

“We’ll move out right away. This is a start, but there’s something we need to begin the real work”. We took notice of all the other robots that were walking along collecting various machine parts and Wanda said.

“All of these are—”

“Me. I have what the Avengers never will, Harmony” he flew up and pulled on a chain as he continued, “they’re discordant, disconnected.  Stark’s already got them turning on each other, and when you get inside the rest of their heads—”

“Everyone’s plan is not to kill them” Pietro snapped impatiently.

“And make them martyrs? You need patience, need to see the big picture”. The robot said as he flew back up to us.

“I don’t see the big picture. I have a little picture, I take it out and look at it, every day”.

“You lost your parents in the bombings, I’ve seen the records”.

“The records are not the picture”.

“Pietro” Wanda stated softly like she didn’t even want to start up something but the robot said.

“No, please”.  I took notice the atmosphere suddenly changed into sadness between the twins as Pietro turned towards Wanda and I finally got to hear their story for the first time with my own ears.

“We were 10 years old. Having dinner, the four of us. When the first shell hits. Two floors below, it makes a hole in the floor, it’s big”. Pietro gestured with his hands. “Our parents go in. And the whole building starts coming apart. I grab her. Roll under the bed and the second shell hits, but it doesn’t go off. It just—sits there in the rubble. Three feet from our faces, and on the side of the shell, it’s painted one word”.

“‘Stark’” Wanda finished venomously as her eyes phased red.

“We were trapped for two days”.  Pietro finished his tale.  I whimpered as I felt my heart breaking from their story. To think they lost their parents that way and waited two long agonizing days for a bomb to set off before they were found.  I offered myself to comfort them by bowing my head as I felt Pietro immediately reach for his favorite spot rubbing my ears and Wanda my neck.

“Every effort to save us, every shift in the bricks I think, ‘this will set it off’. We wait for two days for Tony Stark, to kill us”. Her voice sneered venomously once more.

“I know what they are” Pietro muttered.

“You two aren’t the only ones who had suffered in their childhood, I think it’s time we finally heard our She-Wolf finally speak and remember her story”.  The robot raised his hand outward and I was shocked with high levels of voltage once more. 

I let out a painful yelp but suddenly imagines of my past far beyond my years as Hydra’s Bad Wolf suddenly resurfaced.  My parents, my tribe, Little Grey, everything. Not only that, but my body was beginning to change.

I backed away from the twins whimpering in agony as my fur began to shrink, my paws grew smaller and smaller until they turned into human hands, my ears shrunk back down to human size, in internal organs were growing back to normal, my tail disappeared and my teeth went back to normal human teeth. 

Finally for the first time in 8 years I was fully human again but bare naked as I was the day I became Bad Wolf.

Pietro and Wanda quickly came up to my unconscious form and Pietro placed his jacket over me and Wanda placed her shawl around my waist like a long skirt.  I slowly stood up and shakily raised my hands to see that they truly were human hands. 

I slowly turned them around as my hands were shaking like a leaf and I touched the rest of my body to see human skin and not black fur.  Legs and not hind legs, as well as no tail. I felt my face to feel no muzzle or fur, my teeth were normal sized canines, my ears were normal length and I felt that some of my hair had grown back but not as much as I originally had.

The twins looked at me with shocked eyes and I turned and looked up at them. Shakily I raised my hands up and finally got to touch them with my own human hands. Wanda’s soft, smooth skin felt cool to the touch and Pietro’s stubble beard lightly tickled my palm.  They each held my hands comfortingly and would either nuzzle my palm assuringly or give my fingers or knuckles gentle brotherly and sisterly kisses.  I then turned towards the robot and finally got to use my voice.

“How—how did—”

“Simply reversed your transformation. Not I didn’t get rid of her, we’ll still need her but now you can turn at will between this form and Bad Wolf” and just when I was beginning to think that I could finally free of Bad Wolf forever.  “Now then your story, all your records show is that you were the only successful Bad Wolf experiment of Dr. Felix Zola”.  My eyes narrowed enraged and my eyes changed into wolf gold as I remembered him.  My hands gripped the sleeves of Pietro’s jacket angrily.

“She does not need to answer if she doesn’t want to!” Pietro snapped sensing my anger.

“No!” I snarled.  Pietro turned to me in shock as he just looked at me with furrowed eyebrows and concerned eyes.  I inhaled sharply then exhaled and said to him, “I appreciate you and your sister protecting me all this time Pietro, but now’s the time you both knew my story”.

I took another deep breath in and got my thoughts together before finally sharing my tale with the twins and the robot who had given me my human form back. 

“My parents were self-proclaimed Nature photographers. And my self-proclaimed they didn’t work for a big business or even a small company, it was just them. It was more like a hobby to them than a career, no criticism, no stress, it was all for fun. In order to no longer deal with all the city stress, they moved into the Indian reserves of Oklahoma and became members of a Cherokee tribe known as the Aniwaya tribe, their name meaning ‘Wolf clan’. In ancient times, the Aniwaya tribe looked to the Wolf as a mentor when it came to hunting and battle tactics, now they just marvel their spirits and look at them as teachers, to become one with the Earth and look inside yourself to find your path or choose who you end up becoming in life. I was born on a full moon, and the Chief of the tribe, Chief Waya immediately welcomed me into the tribe. As I grew, he became not only my teacher and tribe leader, but the grandfather I never had. He taught me the ancient history of the tribe and told me stories of wolves and their good deeds that they do, not the bad stories that other people tell now-a-days. My parents also loved me so dearly, they would even take me out on their photography trips, taking pictures of the wildlife from the landscapes to every animal in their natural environment doing their own thing. It was paradise. If nothing had happened, I could’ve stayed happy forever”.

Soon flashing through my mind was the night my village was massacred by Hydra, the night my grandfather and my parents died. Tears welled up in my eyes and my knuckled turned white as I gripped the sleeves of Pietro’s jacket tighter. Sensing my distress, Wanda rubbed my back and Pietro buried his hand into my hair gently and lovingly stroking and petting it.

“Take your time (y/n)” Wanda said softly.  I took another breath in before finally confessing.

“I had just turned 8 years old and it was during our ‘Child of the Moon’ festival. The one night every mid-summer’s night where the tribe gathers together, a few selected members of the tribe are chosen to beat the drums while the wolves bay at the moon, and it’s said that when you’re in-sync with the wolf’s howling with the beat of the drums, you could almost hear the wolves speaking their desires, their dreams, and hearing their stories. I was fortunately one of the chosen few that night, and as I beat with the drums along with a few others, the tribe chanting out singing I felt like I was hearing the wolves speaking their tales, but—next thing I knew, Chief Waya was lying on the floor with two gunshots in his chest. I held him in my arms and the last thing he ever did was touch my cheek with his bloody hand before dying right there in my arms. I was in such shock I didn’t notice another man ready to shot me like an animal. Luckily for me my dad killed the shooter before he could kill me, he then told my mom to take me and run so I was soon in my mother’s arms my face buried in her neck and she ran for the woods. But as she ran, gunshots were heard close by as she was shot multiple times but not where she would drop down dead oh no. They shot her legs and shoulder, with our last amount of strength, she took me and hide me behind a cave just underneath a hill ledge. My mom she—she told me to not come out no matter what happened and then she kissed me one last time before leaving me……”

I lowered my head and sobbed softly.  The twins leaned up against me trying to give me their support as I continued.

“She was shot 4 times. And I sat there in complete darkness for who knows how long. It could’ve been as short as a few minutes or maybe even as long as an hour. But I was on my own in the dark forest with no one to protect me. As I walked, I was suddenly shocked with something and fell to the ground, next thing I know I have a gun pointed right at my face. I thought right then I was going to die. But I was soon saved, by one of the wild wolves that I’ve known since he was a pup, I named him Little Grey. He killed the Hydra soldier about to shoot me and freed me from my prison. He stayed by my side and protected me from any of Hydra’s hunters that were surrounding the forest. It wasn’t until we met this one man, Little Grey charged at the man but was suddenly shocked with high voltage and collapsed to the ground. Just before the man could kill him, I leapt at him and proceeded to beat the man with a rock until I was suddenly knocked unconscious. Next thing I know, I wake up in a cage and told by Dr. Zola that he was going to ‘make me feel better’. He and his team then proceed to treat me like an animal. First they shave off all my hair and then stick needles into my arm giving me a serum mixed with Little Grey’s blood. Then for the next month I take the same tests over and over again as well as given more serum to help with my transformation, forcing me to howl until my throat burned like hell, forced to run faster than Little Grey until my legs burned, basically just treating me like an animal instead of a human being. Then one day I see Little Grey in his usual spot where they’ve always kept him during the blood transfusions latched on the table with tubes sticking out of him. I thought he was asleep, but when I get a closer look at him to see him not breathing, I knew then that—” I trailed off.

That day I didn’t just lose Little Grey, I had lost my best friend, my brother, my child. I had practically raised him since he was born, the moment he and his brothers and sisters left the den with their mother and were introduced to the pack and my parents wanted pictures to document that. Little Grey looked right at me and was the only one to come straight up to me. I at first tried to ignore him because of what my parents always said to leave Nature alone, but the minute he kept rolling around wanting my attention showing his belly to me, nipping at my shirt and pants, I knew then I was wrapped around his paw.

From that moment on, Grey and I became like siblings towards each other, looking out for one another whenever we met each other. When I lost him, I felt like I had betrayed him and allowed him to die that night. If I hadn’t succumbed to him that day, then Little Grey wouldn’t have suffered the pain and torture that he did while he was with me. He would’ve gotten to stay a wild wolf and lived a long and happy life. 

Little Grey is dead because of me. And now his blood runs through my veins as proof of my carelessness and I’ll always blame myself because of it.

I felt Pietro’s thumb gently wipe away the tears that I didn’t know that were falling down my face like a waterfall while Wanda had her arms wrapped around my waist from behind as her head leaned up against mine.  Their bond seemed to give me strength to continue my story. This time sneering just like how the twins told their story.

“His death was what ended up causing my transformation, soon I became Hydra’s Bad Wolf. Throughout the years I was sent out on secret missions to take down any base Hydra deemed worthy of invading, I was told to leave no witnesses to leave the people in fear or to eat them alive. It wasn’t until 2 years ago Strucker bought me like a prized animal to keep for himself so I was then transported to this facility to help contain his experiments. But it was that night I finally got my revenge, Zola was growing old and wolves always attack the young, injured and old prey because they won’t put much of a fight. So when Zola opened my cage door to me new enclosure, I slammed into the door pushing my cage back from the enclosure, and I gave him hell. I wanted Zola to feel every. Single. Ounce of pain that he’s shown me as I ripped him from below the waist and then slowly devoured him. Bone, organs, intestines, all trace of him was gone. As I heard him screaming in both fear and agony I enjoyed every single second of it, but after that incident Strucker deemed me uncontrollable, so I was forced into solitary confinement and was never to see the light of day, fed only his failed experiments so that no one would know of his work with Hydra”.

At the end of my tale, my eyes were narrowed with hatred as I stated my side of the story of why I blame the Avengers and their organization SHIELD.

“Of course I’m not idiot, wolves can hear three times better than humans can so I’ve heard everything about SHIELD and the Avengers. Because of them they hired Felix’s father and he re-created Hydra like a parasite inside SHIELD without them knowing of it until just now. Because of SHIELD, Hydra killed my tribe, my family and Little Grey. They took my humanity and forced me to commit unspeakable acts that can’t even be described as Humane. And the Avengers? They didn’t even try to find any of the old experiments of Hydra. I was left to be Hydra’s pet for years and they didn’t even bother to care that a child had to suffer at the hands of HYDRA!”

“I wondered why only you three survived Strucker’s and Zola’s experiments, now I don’t. We will make it right. You and I can hurt them” the robot said to Pietro. “But you, will tear them apart. From the inside” he said to Wanda as he gently held his robotic hand to Wanda’s cheek before finally turning to me saying. “And you, will devour them like helpless sheep”.  My eyes phasing into wolf eyes at his statement to me.

[ashadownolonger]

Gertie’s Introduction

Fizzy doesn’t ask Gertie to come over at her convenience as she might have. But this was a, hah, grave matter.

Perhaps she finally picked up a habit of their father’s; making terrible jokes during tense waits. 

By the Mother, she could still remember a particular afternoon, right before Ilvermorny, sitting in her father’s lap. They were waiting for Mama and Gertie to return from the mediwizard just before dawn. Mama had been panicked when Fizzy had woken her up because Gertie was sweating through their shared coverlet. She hadn’t understood at the time, but now it sends a chill down her spine. It must have been at the very start of the outbreak, her mother wracked with guilt to think she had brought dragonpox back with her.

Fizzy’s heart gave a small twinge, and she indulged it. John Mason was never stern. Gertie had inherited his flightiness, though it was always because they thought so fast. They were both so young when the Great War started and ended, with most their relatives buried.

Gertie snapped her fingers in front of Fizzy’s face, who jumped. Clearing the hitch in her throat, Fizzy gave her best business face. She really should have noticed the second her sister touched the door.

(x)

“Why are you late?” Her sister asked without preamble. It made it easier for Fizzy to harden her resolve. “I was planning on something, you know.” Gertrude looked quite annoyed.

She flopped down on the couch opposite of Fizzy and flicked out her wand. Drinks were quickly summoned. Non alcoholic, to Gertie’s disappointment.

“We need to talk,” Fizzy started. She hasn’t touched her cocoa, and her sister looked at her closely, taking her in.

Gertie rolled her eyes. “So you finally cottoned on that The Blind Pig isn’t a normal bar? Good for you. It’s a bar with seedy people, but its magical! Spare me your lecture, please or I’m leaving.” She finished her declaration with a second eyeroll.

Fizzy had to take a few seconds to cool her anger. She had stuck her neck out and risked her career for her younger sister to speak to her like this? Mother help her, she really had been a pushover. 

“I struck a deal,” she replied briskly. “You will not be trifled with at that place, but you mustn't be caught doing anything... unsavory. I will not give you any more money until you are employed because of it.” Fizzy leaned back into her stuffed chair, bracing for her sister’s reaction

First, Gertie just stared. Then her mouth opened and released a torrent. “What did you do? Did you bribe someone? Fucking hell, what do you mean by “unsavory”? And I AM employed, I’m not going to stop seeing my ladies, Fizz, ‘cause you can’t get your head out of-”

“Enough.” Fizzy sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I just meant doing illegal or suspicious things. We’ve been lent a name, and cannot do anything to jeopardize it.” As she began to explain, Gertie looked less furious and more intrigued. “I’ve been getting better about... your lovers,” Fizzy continued, more gentle.

Her sister raised an eyebrow, but didn’t roll her eyes again. Progress, Fizzy told herself. Just because Gertie doesn’t have the restraint to not act on her shameful habits does not mean she would abandon her.

“What do you mean by a name? You shack up with someone, finally?” Gertie asked bluntly, earning an exasperated wince.

“I did not sleep with anyone to gain protection, sister,” Fizzy spoke slowly, fighting the rise of indignation. She’s only suggesting it because she would do the same, she soothed herself. The “finally” stung a bit, but was ignored.

“Without going into detail, in case this is a bust,” Fizzy paused, wanting the weight of this discussion sink in. “It will become known that we are distantly related to a respected pureblood family. Your only job is to represent the name and, please, behave.” She ended the explanation more plaintively than she liked, but Gertie’s thoughtful nod made her feel not all was lost.

“So I can still be a homosexual and a pro skirt, but I just have to do it classy?” Her sister’s straightforward understanding was as endearing as it was frustrating, being able to simplify things so plainly.

Fizzy nodded and sipped her now cold drink. Gertie whispered a small warming Charm, so she smiled in thanks.

“We’ll be meeting the man who is arranging this soon. Try to, well,” Fizzy searched for a word that wouldn’t be as rude as “clean up”. 

“Evolutionize my image?” Gertie teased, eyes sparkling. Fizzy’s lips curled at the word, so she hid it by taking another drink. 

“Yes,” she responded shortly.

 Victory finally made an appearance, padding into the kitchen before spotting Gertie. She then made a beeline for her, starting to purr as she jumped onto the couch.

Fizzy counted this visit as a win as Gertie squished her cat’s cheeks.

She stretched herself out comfortably, loosening her stressed posture. Gertie cooed as Victory rubbed against her, so FIzzy decided to pry for information now that the air was cleared.

“Have you met anyone important yet, in your dealings?” Fizzy turned, curling her feet onto the chair. “Our creditor might want to make use of them.” 

Gertie did groan, but did not roll her eyes again. “Can’t we talk about jazz or something before getting serious? I’m feeling left in the cold, Fizz.” Her over ezaggerated pout was ineffective, but Fizzy backed off, just because it had been months since they talked.

“Alright, have you learned any new dances?” Her sister gave her a blinding smile that she couldn’t help but return. Gertie gently Levitated Victory to her window perch as Fizzy shrunk the coffee table and the couch.

_____

“I’ll say,” Gertie huffed, flicking strands of hair from her face as she slumped to the floor, “you should come cut a rug with me one of these nights.”

Fizzy gave a breathless giggle. “A MACUSA employee at a No-Maj speakeasy? I’ll only go dancing if you throw a proper party.” 

Gertie blew a half hearted raspberry in response, renewing her giggles. Her sister joined in, tugging Fizzy to the red rug with her.

After they quieted, she placed the furniture back as Gertie watched, eyes drowsy. Fizzy left the coffee table pressed against the couch so they could stay next to each other, then reclined next to her sister.

“I haven’t even been let in yet,” Gertie grumbled, turning on her side and propping her head on her hand.

It took Fizzy a moment to realize Gertie was answering her question. She made a soft noise of comfort to encourage her.

Blowing out a breath, the read head continued, “I only speak to the bouncer. If he has a message, he gives it.” Fizzy could sense her sister’s frustration, but she tried to cheer her up.

“At least now you can make an impression that will benefit us.”

Nodding, Gertie yawned and twisted around, settling on her front. “Mind if I crash here?” She asks, eyes already closed. 

Fizzy gently brushes her sister’s hair down her back. “Of course,” she says quietly, but the lack of response makes her think Gertie is asleep already.

Smiling, Fizzy Transfigures the couch into a one person bed, shrinking the coffee table to a nightstand to make room. Pausing, Fizzy pens a note before she goes to bed, Victory lazily swaggering behind her.

[ gertie, you can start staying at my place whenever you want. stay the day or drop by this evening for me to add you to the wards. keep an ear out for anything you hear while on the job. theres leftover pork roast in the icebox. love you. ]