#HOW TO GET YOUR WIFE BACK IN CAMDEN

[dyns33]

Family protection

I missed Alfie during Flufftober, I'm not going to lie, even if it was fun

Thomas Shelby was preoccupied.

No, if he was honest, Thomas was just as terrified and furious at that moment, hurt inside, ready to devastate everything in his path, like every time he was told that a member of his family had been targeted.

It had perhaps been a mistake on his part to believe that it was not necessary to monitor Y/N after her marriage. Solomons' men took care of that.

So, when John had called him in a panic, saying that there were rumors about the kidnapping, or even the murder of their sister, he had at first remained frozen at his desk.

Since Polly had brought her back, this little girl from another mother, also abandoned by their fucking so called father, he had loved her. Maybe even more than the others.

The child was adorable. Shy at first, then smiling, with a crystal-clear laugh, asking for cuddles from her brothers, playing with dolls with her sister, and always wanting to be with them.

Normally, boys didn't accept the presence of girls. Poor Ada knew something about that. But strangely, with Y/N, it was different. Neither he, nor John, nor Arthur, could refuse her anything.

She came with them in the streets, in the countryside, in the trees. There were some limits of course, but he had shown her how to climb, jump, run. How to defend herself, if one strange day they weren't there.

Thomas confided things to her and her only when they were alone. The times he slept in the fields, she came to join him. That was often what pushed him to come home, because he didn't want her to catch her death. She stayed there, glued to him without saying anything, respecting his silence like no other member of his family, and for that, he ended up talking to her.

It was a false secret, that Y/N was his favorite. A secret that didn't bother anyone, since she was everyone's favorite.

So Thomas Shelby was preoccupied, because it was said that something had happened to his little sister, without anyone being able to clearly say what.

"She was in a bookstore." Arthur mumbled. "She goes there several times a month, to get books and read to the kids. They like it, she has a beautiful voice. After the session, she often has tea upstairs with the old owner. Men came in, beat up the employees and customers, before going upstairs. Then there was a fire. We don't know anything else."

"And Mr. Solomons ?"

"Haven't managed to reach him. His little assistant says he's… busy."

You'd think the same guys had come to Camden Town to destroy the King's Bakery. Because everything was in a pathetic state, and it was the doing of one man, who shouted orders from his office when he wasn't breaking anything that came his way.

If Thomas was preoccupied, Alfie had lost his mind.

During an important meeting with the Irish, he had let Ollie handle the business, and since the men had to be watched, it was a new kid who answered the phone.

He learned only two hours after his return that a woman had called. Not just any woman, his wife. Who was worried, because there were men in front of the bookstore, whom she didn't know.

She was smart, his wife. His tender Y/N, well raised by the Shelbys. Even if she was normally safe, she remained wary, thinking of looking behind or through the window, knowing all of her husband's employees.

The incompetents who followed her that day had been found with their throats slit in an alley.

Even though his patient was at his limit, Thomas let Alfie finish his tantrum, noting that he had left only the phone and the record player intact, which was playing opera to try to calm him down.

Y/N had disappeared for four hours now. He wouldn't calm down.

"They would have called, huh ? To give their fucking instructions. Or maybe they're scared, they know that my men, the most competent this time, and yours, are all over town, and that as soon as we know who did this, they'll be dead. But… If they don't have her… Tommy, if they don't have her, if she's in that still smoking pile of ashes… I'll burn everything."

"Arthur and John are going to find her."

"Yeah, huh ? You can sense it with your gypsy powers ? Your witch aunt read the cards and saw that my Y/N was healthy ?"

"Not now, Alfie."

Solomons growled, turning his office chair in anger and slamming it against the floor until it was all crumbs. It was only because it was his wife's family that he was acceptinf Thomas' presence.

And for his part, even though he wanted to blow his head off for not protecting his sister properly, Tommy sat there smoking his cigarette, remembering how it had felt to hold Grace in his arms.

When the phone rang, he stared at it for a moment, before looking at Alfie, frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the wall. He wondered if he hadn't heard, before realizing that the wandering Jew was afraid to answer.

It might have been the famous ransom demand, which would teach them that a lot of harm had been done to Y/N, and much more would come if they didn't do what the kidnappers wanted.

It might also have been the coroner, who had finished putting names on the bodies following the fire.

Slowly, Thomas put down his cigarette, before answering.

"… Tommy ?"

"… Y/N ?"

"Give me that !" ordered Alfie who immediately came back to life, snatching the phone from him before finding a softer voice. "Treacle ? Love ? Are you okay ? Where are you ?"

It turned out that despite the lack of practice, taking young Y/N into the woods to teach her how to climb, jump, play tightrope walkers and hide, had been a good thing.

Realizing that something was happening and since her husband was not reachable, she had climbed through the upstairs window on the courtyard side, hoisting herself up onto the roof, until she found a secluded spot to climb down.

Then, not knowing who to trust, she had stayed hidden until nightfall, to go to the closest and safest place from her position, which was her sister's house.

"Faster, Ismael !"

Thomas could have muttered that it would be better to get to Ada's alive, but he only clung to the door handle while the driver obeyed Mr. Solomons without worrying about pedestrians or other cars.

It was also useless to stop Alfie from jumping onto the sidewalk, forgetting his cane in the car to go and bang on the door like a madman until someone opened it.

Calm only returned when he laid eyes on Y/N, settled in the living room and already surrounded by all the other Shelbys who had been called after them.

"Treacle. Forgive me." he sobbed as he threw himself at her knees, his arms around her and his head against her stomach. "I was so worried, love, I thought I was going to die."

"Oh, Alfie. I'm sorry, I wanted to call you before but I didn't have access to a phone."

"I'm the worst husband. I didn't protect you. If my men weren't dead, I'd slit their throats myself."

"Let's try to talk about something happier." Thomas coughed as he approached, placing a hand on his sister's shoulder who smiled at him. "Did you hurt yourself jumping off the roof ?"

"No, I'm fine. Just a little tired."

"Strange clothes."

"Yes, love. You weren't wearing that this morning."

"Oh, I…" Y/N said, visibly embarrassed. "I may have "borrowed" a disguise. And money. And a car."

"She's our lil sis !" Arthur declared proudly, oblivious to the dark looks from his aunt, sister, brothers, and brother-in-law.

Maybe they had also shown young Y/N how to steal, but only once or twice, for fun, telling her that it was wrong, and that she would never need to do that because they would take care of her.

Alfie mumbled in Hebrew, which made her laugh. Probably insults without malice. He only let go of her to allow the others to kiss her before he took her back to their home, returning worse than a leech at the first opportunity.

When he proposed to add some of his men to Solomons' for her next outings, the king of Candem was at first outraged. He didn't bark only because his wife had already experienced a lot of emotions, but he would not let Thomas humiliate him.

However, in the middle of the night, certainly when Y/N was sleeping, Solomons contacted him.

"How many men, and what price ?"

"I'm the one who feels insulted now, Alfie. She's my sister, that will be the necessary number and for nothing at all."

"Hmm… You know, they all have something to say about you, your siblings. All of them, while you take care of them. I know it, I see it, but they are never happy. But not Y/N. No, my treacle has nothing but compliments for her big brothers, and you the first. Tommy this, Tommy that. She adores you."

"I adore her too."

"Hmm. Not as much as me, and so there will be fewer men than mine, but… I accept the offer."

"Glad we almost agree on something, Mr. Solomons."

He did not sleep that night, because Thomas Shelby was a preoccupied man by nature. By business, by his family, by the future and the past.

But as for his favorite little sister, he could have slept peacefully, knowing that her husband was there to ensure her happiness and protection as he had sworn during their marriage.

And if something were to happen, they would join forces, then Thomas would probably kill Alfie to punish him, if the madman didn't kill himself first to join Y/N whom he loved at least as much as her brother loved her.

[solomons-finest-rum]

Saga!! You’re baaaack!! Lovely to see you around these parts again hun 😘 If you’re in the writing mood, can I interest you in a little gif of our favourite Camden based reprobate as inspiration? 😉 xxx

Thank you love! Good to be back (and make my favourite Camden gangster talk nonsense in my fics 🤭🤭🤭)

“Alfie…”

“That is still a ‘no’, luv, all right, and that is final.”

“Alfie Solomons, I am your wife!”

“Playin’ the wife card, are we, right, but two can play this game, sweetheart, yeah? Now, I ain’t one to play dirty, right, and don’t you roll those pretty eyes of yours at me, ‘cause I know what you’re about to say next and the answer’s still bloody ‘no’!”

“Alfie, I am begging you…!”

“Oh, now she’s beggin’, ain’t she, isn’t that a clever thing to do to your husband, right, makin’ ‘im feel all sorts of notions just to win the argument, right, now listen to me, Mrs. Solomons, you women are a clever little breed, right, entirely overlooked and undervalued, yeah, I realise that, luv, an’ I can see that ‘cause you yourself are exceptionally clever, my love, so much so that you went an’ married a clever man, right, a trait that doesn’t apply too often to my kind… There she goes and rolls her eyes again, bloody hell, come back here, woman!”

“No!”

“Come back here at once, ya vexin’ creature, an’ no stompin’ on the bloody stairs, you’ll wake the dogs!”

“Don’t bring the dogs into this!”

“I’ll do as I damn well please in my own fuckin’ house that I paid for!”

“You, Alfie Solomons, are unbelievable!”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment and you know it!”

“Hush now, luv, let’s not argue, right, ‘cause I can take no more of this–”

“Alfie!”

“Right, an’ I can be the bigger person here, darlin’, and to say I love an’ cherish you more than life itself would be an understatement–”

“Unbelievable!”

“So I forgive ya.”

“Go to hell!”

“How many times must I tell ya I already got the ticket done and paid for?!”

“I swear on my brothers, Alfie, I will join you there, because I’ll bloody go and murder my own husband if his nonsense continues!”

“Right! Fuck! Now that right there is just fuckin’ brilliant, right, ‘cause your lovin’ brother is what started the whole fuckin’ thing!”

“Alfie Solomons, you put on a clean shirt right this instance and accompany me to my brother’s wedding or I swear to God, I’ll gut ya with a butter knife!”

“John bloody Shelby gets married at least every other October, what fuckin’ difference does it make if I come or not?!”

“You take that back!”

“Why should I fuckin’ take it back, right, if it’s true?!”

“A butter knife, Alfie Solomons, I swear to God!”

“Naaah, but do ya promise, dearest?! ‘Cause it’s a lovely set your Tommy got us for our anniversary, shame if it fuckin’ goes to waste…! What are ya laughin’ about now?”

“Nothin’… Oh God, Alfie, I bloody love you, you know that?”

“That a trick or somethin’…?”

“No! I just… God, Tommy always said I took after Polly, I just never knew how much… This is bloody ridiculous.”

“Right, you… Right, stop laughin’, woman, you’re bloody ridiculous, stand still… Now your lipstick’s all over the– an’ what was that for?”

“I love you, Alfie Solomons.”

“Right, now, I love ya too, alright, even though you Shelbys are all equally fuckin’ crazy...”

“You knew what you married into.”

“That I bloody did.”

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Hi Mo! I hope you are doing well! I really love your writing and the way you capture the duality of Alfie's character. I saw that you were looking for ideas so I thought I'd send one in (please feel no obligation/pressure to write it, this is just spit balling). Maybe something with reader being protective over Alfie. Maybe they're unaware of the infamous title the Camden King holds or they are but they have an overwhelming sense to have to protect him when the two are placed into a dangerous situation. Thanks so much, and again no pressure to have to write this ♥️!

Hi my friend!! You are so sweet, I hope you’re doing well too!! Thank you so much for this prompt! I gotta be honest, for some reason I had a hard time trying to figure out how I wanted to write this! I hope you enjoy it though, and if it isn’t hitting the way you were hoping, message me and maybe we can come up with something together!! Sending my love!!! - Mo

Change of Plans

Alfie Solomons x Wife!Reader

Warnings: fighting, blood, stitches

This was NOT how the night was supposed to go.

Alfie was going to have a late night at the office, finishing up some business with the Shelby boys. Fine enough, you could make his home coming sweet. A fresh chocolate babka would be fresh out the oven, ready for him to cut into and devour. Candles would be lit all over the house, with curtains drawn in to protect from peering eyes and the creeping in cold. And you. You were dressed so pretty, just waiting for him. Hair loose and free, just how he loves it. You had put on that soft pink dressing gown he likes so much. The silk one with the delicate lace at the ends. You even put lavender oil on, extra, just to entice him.

It was SUPPOSED to be a nice surprise. It was SUPPOSED to be an evening where you spoiled him. It was SUPPOSED to be a romantic evening.

But no… here you are. Sitting next to Ollie in the car. Being driven across town to a bar. A bar, where your husband, along with the idiots Tommy, Arthur, and John Shelby, were fighting. Being that Ollie was concerned enough to grab you from home, you could only imagine how bloody it was.

Ollie looked over at you, eyeing the hem of your dressing gown, nervous as to how the pink fabric would be received, “Uhm.. Ma’am, I have a coat in the back… don’t you think maybe-“

“No Ollie I don’t think I want it. If Alfie wants to pull me out of my house this late at night, he can deal with the consequences.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea-“

“Ollie you know I love you so very much but I will need you to not speak again until we get to the bar. Yes?”

Ollie nodded, but the stress never left his eyes. You know he meant well. He was only ever looking out for you and Alfie. He was very very sweet. But frankly, Alfie did not deserve to have Ollie looking out for him. He did not deserve common courtesy tonight.

You slam open the doors, and it was exactly as you assumed it was. Regular patrons of the bar were lined up at the edge of the walls, watching the gladiators in the center tear each other apart. There was blood all over the floor. Broken glasses and spilled liquor scattering the floor mixing with the red. Tables and chairs discarded and destroyed in the wake of the brawl. You assumed, that the fight started as Alfie against the brothers. But it looked from your stance now, that it was every man for himself. All four of the men were sporting black eyes, bruises and cuts all over their faces, necks, and hands. You heard Alfie’s laugh above the sounds, “C’mon now!!! You want some more?!”

He didn’t see you yet, but you could see him. He looked like absolute shit, and his mouth was bleeding despite the toothy grin he gave with every punch he gave and received. You rolled your eyes, and felt your rage rise. He was getting far too old for this shit, reveling in his strength and the destruction he could so easily cause. The honor he wanted to protect with the force of 50 men. In normal circumstances you find it honorable. Sometimes even charming. But the way it was going… someone was going to get killed. And if anyone was going to kill Alfie it was going to be you.

You motioned for Ollie to follow you, as you stomped over the bottles, blood, and water. The yells for more blood by the men at the edges slowly turned to whistles as they gave witness to your bare legs, the thin dressing gown, and your steaming rage barreling through. With strength mustered from God himself, you grabbed the collar of John and yanked him back quickly, tossing him onto his back, “What the! Oh, Mrs. Solomons…”

Ollie managed to rip Arthur off of Alfie’s back, and he too looked incredulous at your appearance at this disgusting scene. All that was left was Alfie and Tommy, still attempting to rip each others throat out, entirely oblivious to your presence.

“ENOUGH. STOP IT.”

You screamed, but to no avail. They were entirely focused on one another, on their mutual blood lust. Seeing no other option, you motioned for Ollie’s gun, snatching it from his hand, and shot three rounds into the ceiling.

They finally stopped, looking up to find you as the source of the noise. Where they initially looked like big men, they suddenly reminded you of naughty children.

“Alfred Solomons. Thomas Shelby. Just what in gods name do you think you’re doing.”

Silence. Utter silence. “WELL?! I’m waiting Mr. Solomons!”

Tommy tried to get up, but paused when you pointed the gun at him, “Do not make another move Mr. Shelby. Not only did you ruin a night with my husband, but you also nearly killed him. I have half a mind to shoot you dead right now.”

Not moving from your initial target, you address Alfie, “Have you finally found yourself speechless? Say something.”

With a swollen eye and bloody lip, he manages to smile sheepishly, “Just… just business love. Just… a bit of a quarrel darling nothing more… put the gun down my love, you look beautiful. A right vision darling. ”

“I will decide when I put the gun down Mr. Solomons.”

You begin pointing the gun at each of the four men, “I think we can all agree… that we are ALL a little too old to behaving this way yes?”

Tommy was watching you intently, as was Alfie. John and Arthur hung their heads. Embarrassed for both their behavior and their deep seeded fear of you. You motioned for Alfie to get up, “My husband and I are going to leave now. Mr. Shelby, I expect a handwritten note apologizing for ruining my evening. And Monday you all will convene together, to discuss the issue like fucking adults!”

Alfie winced as he got up, cane nowhere to be found. You walked back out into the cold, with Alfie close to your heels. You push him into the car before you, and slam the door shut, telling Ollie to take you home.

You can’t even look at Alfie. So overcome with irritation and worry. Irritated that he acted so recklessly, and worried about his injuries. As you always are. Alfie fiddled with the coat on the seat, “Coat is back here and you still decided to come out in your dressing gown eh?”

“Be quiet I do not want to hear you.”

“Oh you will hear me though won’t you yeah? You will hear me, because now, all of fucking London saw my wife’s bare legs! I mean what the fuck is wrong with you.”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?! You want to know what’s wrong with me Alfie Solomons? I wait all day for my husband to come home. No no not just wait. I SLAVE around the house all day, make myself look nice, hoping HOPING that my husband makes it home! I worry sick ALL DAY that maybe this will be the day my husband doesn’t come home. And instead of coming home, he goes and acts like a COMPLETE FUCKING MORON and starts a fist fight with the Shelby boys!! You are getting too old for this kind of reckless behavior Alfie! And I cannot let you keep destroying your body like this!”

You begin to feel the hot tears fall down your cheeks, and Alfie’s heart starts to crack, “Aw.. darling I- treacle don’t go worrying about old Alfie now. Your husband is like an ox yeah?”

Your tears keep flowing, harder now, “No Alfie! No i do worry! It’s not about you being strong!! It’s about you being healthy! About you being safe! I’ve never told you to stop the business! I’ve never asked you to leave it! All I’ve ever asked is that you show wisdom! Not to go around picking fights! I can’t see you like this Alfie! You don’t deserve to get cut up and beaten for nothing! For a pissing contest! I shouldn’t have to see my husband like this just because of some… some pride!”

Alfie just placed his bloodied hand on your knee, patting and stroking your thigh trying to comfort you. Once Ollie got you and Alfie home, you silently walked up, freezing and covered in the smell of booze and violence. “Get to the bathroom Alfie. I’ll be there in a minute to clean you up.”

You changed out of your soft pink nightie, and slipped on of Alfie’s night shirts over your body, breathing in the smell of his left over cologne. With a sigh you lugged the medicine kit into the bathroom, where Alfie sat at the edge of the tub, shirt off, hot water running and steaming the room. Silently, you began cleaning the wounds on his hands and chest. Once the tub was sufficiently filled, you nodded for him to get in.

With a grunt he lowers himself in. It was getting harder to get into the tub. His muscles tighter than they used to be. You begin your work, stitching up the deeper cuts on his chest and face. It was like nothing to you now.

The first time you stitched him up, he had to talk you through it, giving you more comfort than you could him. It was a rough first try, the scar is still pure white between his shoulder blades, and you can feel it under your fingers at night. But now, you know your way around the needle and his skin, it’s a familiar ritual to you now, though you wish it wasn’t.

“You look as beautiful as you did on our wedding day.” Alfie says suddenly, eyes glossy, and forehead sweaty.

You shake your head at him. Of course he’s trying to flirt with you while you’re stitching him up, “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re delirious.”

“Nah. I married an angel darling. You make those shirts look like them French magazines.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Damn him, he knows how to sweeten you up. You finally finish up the stitches, 10 different gashes in total, and you begin putting on the salve and bandages when he finally speaks again, “My sweet heart, you should not have gone down there. It would’ve been ok. You don’t need to be involved in all that.”

God he’s irritating. Throwing your hands in your lap you bite back, “Alfie don’t give me that. One of us has to have some sense! One of us has to care about you.”

“You are making a bigger deal out of this than it is. Or are you forgetting what it is that I do! I ain’t a soft man treacle.”

“Do not even try to spin it Alfred Solomons. I will not be made to be looked at like a hysterical and stupid house wife. You will not make me feel crazy Alfred Solomons. I am your wife and you will listen to me.”

A beat of silence. And two blinks from Alfie are your queue to keep speaking, “Never. Never have I ever told you to stop. I told you that I would always support you. That your people are my people. You want to continue the business. Absolutely. You want to drop it all and go to Margate. Beautiful. I will always be here for the aftermath. I will always be there to discuss. I will always be there to stitch you up. But this Alfie… this type of… reckless nonsense… you got slashed in the chest Alfie! I will not be made a widow Alfred Solomons. Especially in the wake of something which was preventable. I refuse to watch my husband kill himself for a fucking pissing contest.”

He stared at the water in the tub, losing its steam and washing away the grime from his day. In this moment he wasn’t the King of Camden. That mask left the moment he walked through the threshold. Right now he was Alfie Solomons. Your husband. The man who was to love and protect you.

“Alfie… don’t you see how much I love you? How much I want you to be safe? I hate seeing you in pain, it makes me sick. I don’t know what I would do if you were suddenly not here. I think… the sky would turn black. I would not be able to breathe.”

Alfie hummed, and began to rise out of the tub, “C’mon… let’s get to bed yeah?”

With a sigh you nodded, helping him out, and cleaning up your tools before leaving him to dress for bed. Already bundled in between the soft white sheets, you look above your book to watch him limp into bed, and your heart breaks. He grunts as he gets in, but then pulls at your shirt to bring you closer, “C’mere darling. Need you.”

You toss your book to the floor, huddling closer, letting him guide your head to his bare chest. He hums put a tune from his childhood, stroking your hair as he thinks. After a bit he whispers, “Do you know what would happen if you weren’t next to me anymore?”

“Hmm?”

“The world would stop spinning. Lose all its color. Food ‘d lose its taste. Music would be horrible. I’d stop breathing. There’d be no reason to breathe. No reason at all.”

You begin to feel tears fall again, but he kept continuing, “I love you my darling. You add meaning to all this… I’m sorry I made you feel… as if you didn’t matter. As if your feelings didn’t matter. They do treacle. Your husband is stubborn, and it ain’t right. Ain’t right to make my wife cry and worry. You’re the best a man like me could ever ask for. You put up with so much… I promise not to be such an ass yeah? Start using my head before I start up some nonsense. Deal?”

You nod, clutching his chest, kissing him wherever you could reach, as Alfie hums again, kissing the top of your head. “Now Treacle. Tell me all about these plans you had for tonight.”

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

🎃 A Truth Universally Acknowledged: Chapter One

A Truth Universally Acknowledged: It has long been established that you don’t like Dream of the Endless, and he doesn’t like you. Unfortunately, fate has decided to stick you both in a glass cage for a century. Who's throat will be torn out first? Yours? Or Dreams.

Warnings: Reader and Morpheus do not get along, Maga is latin for witch.

To Note: Morpheus x WitchFem!Reader.

Prompt: Role Reversal

Word Count: ~7.7k

Masterlist | Next

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

It was a truth universally acknowledge that should one mortify a pride, forgiveness would not so easily be obtained. So how were you ever expected to truthfully forgive someone who had not just mortified your pride, but trampled on it until there were permanent stains and tears in it. Nothing would sew your pride back together, and nothing would remove the stain of insult rendered upon your being. The season of 1815 had not just rendered you mortified, it had shattered your pride.  It had started out as an average season, as an immortal witch you’d decided to spend that year in London to enjoy the frivolity of the marriage mart.

Now, on all accounts by no means were you looking to be married… what sane mortal would willingly wed a witch? But you did enjoy the social aspects of the English balls and liked to dress up in fancy clothing. You certainly had the fortune to do so after living for so many centuries. So you had gone to the modiste and ordered several dresses for the season, and had even splurged on a few new jewelry pieces for your collection to have as a memoire of this time. You’d lingered at the fringes of the first couple of balls, but were slowly mingling further and further into the ton.

At some point you had made a friend out of one of the bachelors searching for a wife. It had been clear that neither of your were particularly romantically interested (which was better for you int he long term) and had taken to meeting up every ball to gossip and preen over outfit choices and who had committed a faux pax over luncheon. It was pure fun for you and Henry was certainly getting your experience in searching for a new wife. You had pointed out a potential match you thought would suit the young man quite nicely when you caught sight of an omen. Well it was less of an omen and more of an irritant.

The Dream Lord had no reason to be in the Waking Realm, it was your turf, and just like you respected his realm, it was only right the he respected yours. For what reason had he come to London when you were there? Nothing good, that you were sure of. So you headed for the parchment table full of lemonade for surely it wouldn’t be nearly as sour as the conversation you were sure to have with him should your paths cross.

Grasping the skirt of your dress to keep it out of your way, you glided across the room with clear intentions to parch your throat. The train of your silk dress trailed behind you in a soft bed of blue flowers carefully stitched into the tulle overlay. Carefully grabbing a glass of lemonade you took a sip as Lady Camden joined your side.

“Lady Bell,” She greeted you, using your alias. You nodded to her with a dip of your chin in greeting.

“Lady Camden, a pleasure to see you tonight, I noticed the Lord Richards was quite taken with you while you were on the floor. Do I suspect a match in your near future?” You replied with a tease in your voice. Her eyes sparkled and she fanned herself with her gossamer and feather fan.

“I surely hope so,” She softly giggled, her doe-like eyes flittering over to where Lord Richards was speaking with a few other eligible men. Ah to be mortal and in love… what you would give to feel that fleeting emotion once more.

“I am confident he shall do so, for he would be a fool to do otherwise.” You stated, taking another sip of your lemonade. You and Lady Camden made more merry conversation while you blatantly ignored the dark and brooding menace lingering in the fringes of the ballroom. It was only when the band started up music once more that you placed your glass down and looked to the dance floor. The next set of dancers were due and perhaps someone would invite you. Your hand was indeed asked for a dance and you happily accepted.

You danced line with the other woman, exchanging partners a few times and all around enjoyed yourself immensely… but on the next partner change you found yourself spun into his arms. You nearly smacked his hands away from your body when he caught you but managed to safe face purely because you had a good reputation among the ton and planned remaining in England for the next several years. They wouldn’t take well to you smacking the Dream Lord senseless on the dance floor. So you grit your teeth and forced yourself to remain calm.

“My lord,” You greeted, barely covering the tinge of hostility within your voice. “To what do I owe this pleasure of your visit?”

Lightning crackled within his stardust gaze.

“Presumptuous of you to assume that I am in attendance purely for your leisure,” His lip curled just the slightest and your eye twitched in return.

“Then what, pray tell, brings you to such an event as this? I am sure you are far too busy with your duties to indulge in the leisures of man.”

“One could ask you the same, Lady Bell,” Dream rebutted. “Surely such whimsical mortal activities are below the standings of a prominent witch such as yourself.” Oh that was an insult if you ever heard one. You didn’t bother maintaining pleasantries with the Dream Lord any further and cut to the point.

“Why are you here?” You boldly questioned. Suffice to say you didn’t directly ask why he was there being a nuisance to your festivities. You did hold some self-preservation in regards to pushing his temperament. Annoyance flashed through his blue eyes.

“A wayward nightmare, presumptuous of you to assume that I am here for you.” Oh the complete audacity of him to assume that you wished for his presence! You could count on one hand the number of times you willingly sought his presence let alone wanted it. None of those times had been your own desire, but out of necessity.

“The audacity of you to insinuate that I would ever desire your despicable and repugnant presence! I would rather lose my magic than willingly spend time with you, you loathsome cad.” You hissed at him, your eyes flashing with the color of your magic. Morpheus’ hackles rose at your audacity to speak to him as such and immediately fired back at you.

“You dare to speak to me in such tone and disrespect Maga!?” Dream growled at you. The floor beneath your slippers shivered and groaned as the music was interrupted by the argument between you and the Dream Lord. You and he were causing a scene. Jerking back from the menace of the Endless, you glared heavily at him.

“I simply dare to speak my thoughts when you have called for such words as clearly you have infringed upon my life in a way that I do not care for!” A lady should never raise her voice, but your mind was so wrapped up in anger and despite that all call for decorum and manners went out the window. “I have been nothing but respectful towards you, my lord, yet you cannot afford to do the same in return?”

“My respect is offered to those who have earned it and you and your promiscuous ways have far exceeded my limit.” You blanched at his words as gasped echoed within the ballroom. “You are a harlot pretending to be a hare. Sharp tongued and wicked.” Just like a snap of a fan, Dream had just reduced your hard earned reputation to ashes and all for what? Your words of truth?

“You are the most deplorable and depraved being I have ever had the displeasure of meeting, my lord,” You spoke with an even voice despite the trembles that now wracked through your body. “I hope you rot in hell,” Further dramatic gasps went around the room at your harsh words. But at this point you had no care because he had just ruined everything. Grabbing at the skirts of your dress, you gave Dream one last murderous glare and fled the ballroom before the talk could start.

Why did he always have to ruin everything.

Your pride was still very much ruined even after a century had gone by. Oh yes, your pride was ruined and your hatred for the Dream Lord still burned like the great Sirius. You hadn’t crossed paths with the Endless’ since that fateful night in 1815, and you were glad so. You probably would hurl a flaming ball of plasma at his stupid pretty face the moment you caught sight of him. Not even his one act of kindness during the witch trials could stop the burning hatred you felt within your heart. He might have saved you from burning at the stake, but now you held nothing but contempt for him.

You huffed to yourself and shifted where you sat, chains ratting as your arms moved. It was by sheer luck that Roderick Burgess had managed to get his hands on the grimoire that held the spell to bind you. A downright miracle that he had performed the ritual correctly to actually keep you in place. So stuck down in the bowels of Fawny Rig and sapped of your power due to his siphoning, you had plenty of time to contemplate past memories. You had no idea why that particular one of Dream humiliating you and mortifying your pride stuck out.

You hadn’t come face to face with him since that day, and while you did occasionally like to cause disturbances for him (because you were vindictive at times), you hadn’t really thought about in since the turn of the new century. You’d been too busy with new witch magic and the search for ancient grimoires. Now you were locked up in a basement with plenty of time to think about your past.

Roderick Burgess was a greedy man.

It wasn’t enough that he repeatedly stole your magic from you, no, he was taking it all every time you recharged in hopes that he could resurrect his son Randall. Resurrection was not possible. You had told him that straight to his face and earned a backhanded slap from the elder mortal. That had been the last time you reminded him of the truth. It was easier to just repeat the rules of magic and avoid mentioning resurrection all together. Tugging on the shackle around your left wrist, you chewed on your lip as your raw skin ached and burned.

The old metal had cut your skin and then dug in to your broken flesh, leaving behind half broken scabs and trails of dried blood. You had suffered worse during the witch trials, but you disliked the discomfort of your current ailments. You were immortal, not invincible or impervious to death. Speaking of Death she was actually quite a nice friend to have, unlike her brother. Your face soured at the thought of him once more and you crossed your arms over your gathered knees to rest your chin on them.

Repugnant man. His face was cloudy in your mind, hatred had blinded you to him so much you couldn’t exactly remember what it was like to glare into the face of that Endless. Heartless cretian. The iron gates creaked as your captor strode into your confined solitude… but he wasn’t alone this time. No, he was followed by his acolyte all robed and covered. While the acolytes began drawing in the sandy dirt floor with red chalk and light candles, you eyed Burgess.

“What more power do you wish for? Is it not enough that you drain my magic? Are you that desperate for your son?” You questioned the man with a sneer on your lip. “You are grasping at the straws of an empty barrel.”

Rather than take the biting words spilling from your mouth, Burgess lashed out. The back of his hand cracked across your cheek. Pain blinded you for a brief moment as you tumbled to the side, your unwashed and messy hair falling into your face. You spit out a mouthful of blood and touched your throbbing lip. Split. A chuckle passed through your lips.

“Testy today, are we?” You giggled darkly, eyeing the mortal through your curtain of hair. He gave you a look in warning. The next hit would knock you out. So you kept you mouth shut as you maneuvered your body back into a sitting position. Content to see Burgess fail for what seemed to be the thousandth time, you leaned back against the steel column you were chained to. They were still getting ready so you took to nudging the dirt beneath your feet around with your big toe.

It wasn’t particular interesting to watch them until they began drawing sigils you recognized. Straightening up in your seat, you stared at the crimson markings in puzzlement because how could Burgess know of these markings? Your eyes flickered back to him and you saw an old book within his hands. Grimoire. How had he gotten his hands on such a book!? Grimoires were sacred tomes that a witch would die before allowing into the hands of a mere mortal! You wanted to demand him where he had gotten such a book, but knew that you would get no answer from him. You’d get smacks though.

Licking the blood that bloomed from where your lip had split, your eyes turned scrutinous. Just because he was drawing correct sigils, did not necessarily mean he knew what he was doing or was doing it correctly. But the longer you watched, the more concerned you grew, while you didn’t recognize this particular combination of sigils, everything else was frighteningly correct. You could make out a few binding sigils, so he planned on binding something other than yourself (you pitied the being caught by the amateur). But there were also summoning markings.

“Summoning,” You murmured to yourself, brow furrowing as you struggle to figure out who Burgess could possibly want to summon after getting nowhere with you. The mortal didn’t spare you a glance, but he had heard your murmur. Of course you’d recognize what he was doing.

“Yes, since you are so resistant to aiding me in my wants—”

“Which are entirely impossible,” You interjected before earning a glare from him. You raised your eyebrows as if to say ’continue?’.

“—I shall summon and bind another being that will help.” You snorted and rolled your eyes because what creature would ever help such a greedy mortal like him? Desire perhaps? No. You might not have met them, but even they had standards. Roderick Burgess fell far below that line. Far, far, below. So you slumped back and closed your eyes, they were going to have to wait for nightfall for whatever summoning they were going to two as the moon boosted summoning magic. You wanted to be ready for whatever hell Burgess unleashed upon himself.

The gods were punishing you. That was the only explanation. Why else would Burgess’ botched summoning circle summing the one being in all of creation that you despised the most? Punishing or laughing, you were unceremoniously dragged from your seat to be locked up in some fancy globe that was currently being welded shut with you and Dream in it. It was downright laughable! Burger seemed smug enough about it though, he was confident that Dream would give him what he wanted.

He wouldn’t, and the mortal would soon find out. If the stupid, deplorable, loathsome, Endless would just wake up already!!

You didn’t know exactly what kind of magic it took to summon an Endless, but it sure did take a lot out of Dream. He’d been out since arriving and had yet to wake. You also didn’t know how powerful he’d be without his tools. A faux pas on his part you took great glee in knowing. And yet, if he was out of power just like you… how were you going to get out? You’d consider that later, right now you were just concentrated on glaring at the lingering man responsible for your situation.

He had regretted binding you upon learning of your unwillingness to cooperate. He was going to be in for a rude awakening when Dream woke up and gave him his ‘holier-than-thou’ attitude. Leaning back against the thick cold glass, your eyes trailed along the freshly welded seams of the cage. How want Burgess going to siphon your magic with you locked up like this? The mortal in question, almost as if hearing your thoughts, strode up to the hanging cage and stared at you with a glare. Your eyebrow twitched in challenge.

“No need to worry about our little sessions, witch,” He told you, his blue eyed tight and heavy. “I can still take your magic with you in that cage.” You were tempted to mouth off on him since he could smack you around anymore, but between your split lip and mood sullied at your future trapped with him, you chose to remain silent. Crossing your arms against your chest, you leaned your head back and closed your eyes. If there was anything you learned about Burgess, it was that he hated being ignored.

He eventually left when the glass cage was completed and the workers all trickled out, only two guards remaining behind. To watch you and Dream you suppose… but exactly where were you going to go? Your stomach rumbled and a new worry emerged. Being immortal didn’t mean that you didn’t need to eat. It wouldn’t kill you to starve but you weren’t exactly excited about the idea. The 1500s had been hard enough, you didn’t ever want to get that thin again. You sighed and reminded yourself that you had gotten through tougher times once more.

“Think of all the spells you can curse him with when you get out,” You whispered to yourself, trying to distract yourself from reality. While you were mindlessly flickering through memories of your travels over the centuries, the Endless you were crammed in the cage with began to regain consciousness. He didn’t move, not even a muscle but the minuscule amount of magic you had recharged since your last draining altered you to his alertness.

Narrowing your gaze, you glared at the naked Endless (you were guilty of appreciating his beautiful body for about five seconds before you remembered that you hated him) and waited for his eyes to open. When they did, you cursed him for having such beautiful eyelashes. You, of course, were he first thing he saw and the Endless could have sworn he was hallucinating you after such a long period of not having to deal with you and your annoyances. But then you blinked, scowled deeper at him, and curled your lip.

“Welcome to Fawny Rig.”

Dream hadn’t uttered a single word or sound since waking up in the glass cage with you. Hadn’t answered to Burgess’ demands when the mortal had come to make them. Hadn’t commented when Burgess turned to you and taunted you with freedom, you had just rolled your eyes and looked the other way. Now you were nodding off, so he followed you. You had been on his mind on and off over the last century, the incident in 1815 notwithstanding. Your anger and rage at the Endless was still palpable ever after all these years.

He suppose he deserved your anger, but he believed that nothing he had said that night was wrong. He did see you as promiscuous as you were close with many and at times flirty, and your tongue was sharp and wicked. No one else in all of creation clashed with him like you did, not even his sibling Desire. It was infuriating. Materializing in your dream, Dream was surprised to find himself in a familiar place. The same estate in which you and he had your explosive encounter in 1815. What had caused your consciousness to think of this?

Him, most likely, but the Endless wasn’t smart enough to think of that.

It wasn’t hard for Morpheus to track you down, you were the only one existing other than he within your dreams. So walking the corridors, he happened upon a back balcony where you were standing. Your back was to him and face turned upward, gazing at the luminous full moon overhead.

“Is it not enough that now I must see your face every day?” You grumpily complained, not bothering to look at him. Dream’s eye twitched at your words because was he not Dream of the Endless. It was by his powerthat you had the ability to dream in the first place!

“I see that your tongue is still just as wild as the last night I reluctantly spent in your presence, Maga.” You shot a glare over your shoulder, eyes connecting with thunderous blue.

“And I see that you are still a loathsome creature without an ounce of compassion or dignity!” You hissed at him, eyes flashing. “Or do you take pleasure in ruining a woman’s hard earned reputation in front of an audience?”

“I spoke nothing but the truth,” Dream spoke to you, his chin lifting while his eyes glittered with anger. Insolence and insult from you yet again.

“Yes, the truth of how you see me!” You snapped at him. “But have you considered how your insidious words might affect me in the long term? I had a life in England until you ruined it! You are nothing but a big bully who throws words around when you don’t get your way!”

Now that really made Dream angry, but you didn’t remain in place to experience his blow up. It had been far too long since you had been able to dream like this and you just wanted to rest. He called your name but you just ignored him. Surely he would understand that you just wanted to be left alone. At the very least the irate Endless could indeed feel that you wanted to be left alone… but his curiosity of how you ended up in that decrepit basement. So he followed silently behind you as you made your way to a bedroom in the large estate. Lingering in the doorway, Dream stared at your back in distaste, trying to remember why he disliked you in the first place. He couldn’t remember.

He walked over to the foot of the bed and glared at you further, thinking back to the first time he had met you. Surely something within his memories would trigger the reason for his great dislike for you. He found no immediate memory, just those of your torture at the hands of the witch trials and saving you, the brief visits you had within his realm, and— Dream was distracted by wounds dotting your wrists. Eyes sharpening on the wounds, Dream’s eyes followed the signs of restraint. They were far from new and were in varying stages of healing. Then his eyes found the lingering blood on your chin and lip. Someone had struck you. Who would dare to strike a witch of your caliber and standing? Roderick Burgess no doubt, he had no shortage of gall and greed.

Your guards figured out early on that you and Dream did not like each other. You two squabbled with your eyes and facial expressions, well you mouthed off to him in a one sided conversation for Dream never said a word… but you appeared to understand each and every twitch of facial muscle the Endless made. It was rather impressive and yet, Burgess got nothing he demanded from Dream. He still got his power from you, yes, he never failed to siphon that… but get Dream to obey his demands? Absolutely not.

After your last shouting match you had purposefully squirmed yourself around so you were cramped against the glass with your back to the Endless. You were refusing to look at him and the Endless refused to acknowledge your presence. Gods the Endless annoyed you to the core! Why did you have to be trapped in this stupid cage with him, it was driving you insane!! You growled under your breath and slumped further against Dream’s hard shoulder. Superficial arsehole.

The years had come and go, and after nearly a decade of being trapped with him, your digs at each other had slowly ebbed. Boredom, of course, was on the forefront. But you spent a lot of time with what little magic Burgess left you with maintaining your body so you didn’t waste away to a skeleton. You had already lost a decent amount of weight, your hipbones were pronounced and the vertebrae of your spine were all very prominent. Even Dream found your state uncomfortable to look at, but with you constantly presenting your back in refusal to look at him he had nothing else to look at. You were counting the number of times the guard threw a ball against the side of the stone wall when Roderick came down for his monthly siphoning.

The elderly man, not having aged a day since summoning Dream, strode into the room and settled his eyes on you. You were back to being a sullen and pouting wench, subdued by your current predicament. But he knew that at the drop of a hat you’d turn into a fiery hellcat and spit crude insults at any who dared to gaze upon you. Your wicked side was merely laying in wait, slumbering. Burgess prepared himself for siphoning your magic, muttering the incantation beneath his breath for he had memorized it by now. With the spell activated, he walked to the edge of the summoning circle and stared at you.

Your shoulder jerked a little as the meager amount of magic you had regained flowed out of your body and to the mock wizard. Grunting as the strain of over siphoning made your limbs twitch you hunched in place and struggled to grasp at what magic you could keep for yourself. Not much, regretfully. Your fingers clenched against the skin of your chest, for the pain you felt there was not new to you but still just as uncomfortable as it was the first time he’d stolen your magic.When the last few embers of your magic floated free from your soul and traveled into Burgess’ chest, you let out a strained wheeze and slumped in a weak ball against the glass. How did you have any magic left to give now? Your weakness was making it hard for your body to recuperate the magic lost.

As you lay limp as a rag doll with labored breaths, trembling ever so slightly, Burgess turned his gaze to Dream. He had a deal for the Endless, surely Dream would be happier without you there to snarl and argue with him.

“I have a deal for you, Dream,” He spoke, cold eyes observing the Endless. He was sitting with his ankles crossed and arms hanging over his knees. He hadn’t moved from that spot in decades despite you squirming around next to him. Dream couldn’t help but raise his eyes to the mortal. What would he try to bargain with this time? “I will let the witch go, if you bring back my son.” Dream almost laughed at Burgess’ words. He’d release you if he brought his son back? That wasn’t happening, it would never happen. Even if Dream could bring his son back. A brief look of disgust flickered across Dream’s face and that was all the answer the mortal needed.

The Endless would let you rot next to him rather than do anything to help Burgess.

“You are positively the worst,” Your voice croaked from where you had your forehead pressed against cool glass. “I hope you know that Dream. The. Worst.” He’d take that over you getting a win in any day.

Something in the air had changed. It was a palpable feeling you’d woken up to this morning and it had kept you on edge since. Your boney back had leaned heavily into Dream’s shoulder as you looked upwards at the eaves overhead. Something was off. Something didn’t belong. You just didn’t know what. The dust that floated in the air vibrated with a different frequency, one that wasn’t of this world. If only you weren’t so weak you could have pinpointed out what it was! Despite your uncertainty of what was going on, you decided to voice your thoughts since the guards post was empty.

“Something has changed.” Your words brought Dream out of his internal thoughts. His eyes opened and he stared ahead at the empty guards table. Nothing appeared to be different, but your senses had always been exceptional. Even with you in a weakened state. He said nothing, of course, but silently acknowledged your words. Now on alert, Dream scanned the empty basement slowly. Nothing was out of place. The something fluttering at the gate to the room caught his attention.

Like a beacon of light, Jessamy wormed her way through an opening in the wrought iron and perched on it, heading cocking side to side as she examined her Lord and Master in his glass cage. Of course she also noticed you laying limp next to him, but her concentration was on her master. The raven fluttered into the room and swooped up to the cage, banging herself and beak against thick glass to break it. Hope combined with happiness filled Dream’s face as he rose to his feet. You simply rolled your head to look up at Jessamy, glad that someone knew you were down in this decrepit basement.

Hope was beginning to bloom in your chest, for you hadn’t been this close to freedom since capture. But just as soon as that swelling feeling grew within your bosom it came crashing down. There was a loud crack that shattered Jessamy’s attempts to break the glass and before you knew it black and red was splattered against the cage. You gasped with a stricken sound catching in your throat. Oh gods, Jessamy… Alex Burgess was standing several paces behind with a gun raised. Your eyes burned because while you might have a particular distaste for her master, she was a good acquaintance. Now she was gone.

You watched as Dream slowly lowered himself back to the floor of the cage, unaltered shock plastered on his features. It was like he was still trying to process what had just happened. But his eyes… Oh you could see the tears quickly gathering and something within you cracked. Burgess came bursting into the room in a fit of rage, shouting at his son for potentially breaking the glass that kept you and Dream trapped. But you were entirely focused on Dream. You’d never seen him cry, you didn’t even think it was possible for an Endless to cry. But the devastation on his face wasn’t a fluke or a trick of the light, tears were flooding his lashes and his nose was beginning to run.

Even the great Dream of the Endless was capable of ugly crying? You were moving before you even realized what you were doing.

Boney arms reaching for the Endless, you pulled him to you and tucked his face away from prying eyes. Your fingers absentmindedly found themselves stroking his midnight hair while you began murmuring several death rites for Jessamy. She had been an exceptional companion to Dream and clearly the Endless had cared for her. She hadn’t deserved to be killed in such a way. Mid rites, you felt Dream shift within your arms and thought that he might lash out at you for daring to touch him so intimately… but rather than do as expected he leaned into your embrace in a slump.

You nearly started crying yourself the moment you felt his tears drip onto your skin. He’d never been this vulnerable in front of you before. No, you were sure that he’d never been this vulnerable ever. You ought to be happy to be experiencing something so rare, or even happy that he was hurting after all the social destruction he’d caused you… but all you could feel was pain in your heart because it had only come because of a death. The basement which had always been cold, damp, and dark, was now a tomb marred with blood and death. You found that you hated the way Dream trembled within your arms, and for each tear he shed, your hatred for the Burgess’ grew.

Burgess’ death had ben anticlimactic and incredibly disappointing. You had wanted him to burn for thousands of years for the pain and anguish he had caused Dream, and for his imprisonment of you. He’d gotten off far too easily dying from just a head injury. He deserved so much worse. So much worse. It was your only hope that he had ended up in hell where he belonged. You would have looked on the bright side if Alex hadn’t decided on taking over his fathers job siphoning your magic.

He feared that you’d grow to powerful if left unchecked.

Your lack of magic was beginning to seriously take a toll on your body. Without a steady source of magic to supplement the nutritional intake you’d normally have, your body was taking muscle and fat from you. If Dream thought seeing the vertebrate more pronounced was disturbing, it was nothing compared to your entire spinal column. That’s why you’d gone back to sitting side by side with him, to hide just how depleted your body was becoming after over a decade of imprisonment. You often rested your head on his shoulder when fatigue overtook you and were lucky that t he Endless allowed such a thing. With tiredness ruling within your mind and body, you decided to close your eyes for just a moment to rest them.

The grounds of the witch trials greeted your eyes, and a sharp tingle of fear ran up your spine for but a moment. Even after two centuries had gone by, the memories of your experience at the hands of the crazed people and witch hunters still haunted you. You still had the brand of the christian cross upon your shoulder. The old mark burned in memory and your rubbed your shoulder as it ached. Sometimes when the memories were strong enough you could swear you smelled the scent of your flesh burning as the red hot iron cross was pressed into your flesh. Your eye twitched.

Why were you having this dream? Why were you remembering these horrors now?

Refusing to look at the gallows where the noose swung ominously, you turned in the direction of your old home. After crossing the ocean on a colony ship, you’d taken to assisting the local doctor. Many colonists fell sick after making the voyage and you had faithfully tended to and nursed them back to health. You had given the Salem community nothing but kindness and what had you gotten in return? The witch trials. The people you had come to care for and love, had turned on you in a blink of an eye.

Technically speaking, you were a witch. But never in all your years of living had you ever considered using your magic to do harm. Why would you wish to uproot and ruin the happy life you had? Nonetheless you had been branded a witch (literally), and set to hang with the other ‘guilty’. You were the only witch in Salem.

You found yourself in your small home, everything exactly as you remembered. Your basket of medical supplies sat by the door, the hearth with its pot hanging above waiting to be used for dinner, your bed. You touched the threadbare blanket. It was just as scratchy as you remembered, but it had kept you warm. Your hand went to the rough fabric of the waistcoat you wore. You’d forgotten how hot it was to wear the full outfit. So you began stripping yourself of the thick materials, your waistcoat going first, then your dress. Now just standing in your simple shift, you let your hair down from its tightly pinned position and shook it out.

“Can’t say I enjoyed the rigid customs but life was quite peaceful for a time,” You mused to yourself, exiting your old home and heading to the nearby river. On Saturdays the women of Salem always did the laundry for the week and during the summer months it was nice to cool off in the water. This dream was making you feel hot and a nice cool down with a dip in the river sounded nice. Your feet followed the path to the river on automatic, even after over two hundred years you still knew it like the back of your hand.

The river was cold. It always had been. But it was a nice break from the heat you felt. The ends of your shift were rapidly soaked and pressed against your skin as you sloshed further into the river. It was funny how even the rocks at the bottom of the crystal water still looked exactly the same. Walking until you were waist deep, you shifted a few stone not he river bottom with your foot. It was strange that you were in a dream. Dream had been locked in a subdued and moroseful state that hadn’t changed since Jessamy’s death. You hadn’t had a dream since then, so why were you having one now?

“Best not to question and simply enjoy,” You stated pragmatically before dunking yourself beneath the water. Floating for a few moments beneath the chilly water, you let yourself relax and just stay hunched in place. The current were you were was fairly weak so you didn’t have to use much effort staying in one place. Standing back up, you pushed your hand over your wet hair. While you were observing the fading sun on the horizon, the dream around you shuddered for a moment. Then the sun disappeared and the entire dream darkened to nightmare.

Your head swirled to the land behind you which the disturbance had originated, and you saw a thunderous looking Dream standing behind you. What had gotten his knickers in a twist? This was your dream, what could you possibly dream of that would make him so upset?

“Dream, you’re disturbing the peace,” You quietly announced, attempting a soft pointer given his rather fragile state. His glowing eyes flickered for a few moments, then faded back to starry blue and the dream returned to its normal. As the summer heat returned, you observed the being closer to figure out what had caused him to go all ‘Endless’ on you in a dream. He still looked enraged, barely containing it behind his pretty blue eyes, his jaw locked, even his fists were clenched. “Dream?” You prompted him again, hugging your arms around your body because you were as good as naked in front of him and unlike he, you did care about people seeing your naked body.

His lashes flickered and eyes narrowed.

“You never spoke of bodily harm,” His voice came out rasping and deep, echoing the emotional turmoil you could feel and see. What was he talking about? Your apparent confusion to his words only made the Endless scowl at you. “The mark upon your shoulder, Maga,” He growled darkly, stepping closer to the rivers edge. “You never spoke of them hurting you.”

Your mind went blank as you processed his words. He was… angry that you’d been hurt? Well he wasn’t just angry at this point. He was enraged at the idea. Your face screwed up some and you half turned in place so your neck wasn’t screeching at you for the unnatural strain you were causing it.

“There was no need. You stopped my hanging, what more did you need to know past that?” You questioned, still very confused about why he would be so upset by the mark of an injury that had happened over two hundred years ago. It had long since healed. For some reason Dream got angrier at your words. Once more he took more steps, closing in on the river. “You didn’t even need to stop them from hanging me in the first place. Why would I tell you about them branding me?”

Dream’s eye twitched as he furiously questioned in his mind why you hadn’t informed him of what the morals had done to you.

“They hurt you,” He reiterated, stressing out the word hurt like it would explain his reasoning to be upsetto you. It did not, but you didn’t want to pick a fight with him when you had been on such cordial terms with him.

“It was over two centuries ago, Dream,” You answered him, resting your hands against your chest and looking own at your fingers. You remembered how bloody they had been after being beaten by the towns people. “I’ve long since put that in my past.”

It seemed that no matter what you told the Endless, he was still very upset over the fact that you had been hurt in the witch trials... so you decided to shift the conversation because the breeze was making you chilled.

“If you wouldn’t mind, Dream, would you please turn around?” You asked, looking down at your wet body. The white shift was still very much see-through. Dream titled his head to the side, his face telling you that he didn’t understand why you were asking for such a thing. “My shift is wet and very much see though at the moment.”

Dream didn’t understand why you should ever feel the need to be self conscious over your naked body but did as you asked. When his back was to you, you sloshed your way back towards the rivers edge. Once there, you carefully stepped towards the path leading back to your home. However, Dream heard you heading away from him and promptly turned around.

“You asked me to turn around and then design to sneak off?” He questioned, eyes boring into your back and lingering on the branded cross on your shoulder. You froze in step.

“I am in my shift that is currently see through, Dream,” You reminded him stiffly. “I’m not in presentable attire to be speaking with you at the moment. If you wish to continue conversation you are going to have to wait until I am dressed accordingly.”

Dream, while having innumerous patience, simply could not find the ability to be so at the moment and strode up to you, coat in hand. He dropped it around your shoulders and continued walking towards your home.

“We will be finishing this conversation whether or not you believe yourself to be in presentable clothing.” He stated, striding confidently ahead. You stared agape at his back, fingers clutching the star laden coat around your shoulders. Finishing this conversation? You still didn’t understand why he was so upset over a brand you’d gotten two hundred years prior, but followed him nonetheless.

It was nice to just talk with Dream of the Endless, rather than fight.

Holding up a facade of okay health had taken every bit of your concentration. What magic that ran thorough your blood now went entirely to preserving your life the best it could. You stopped counting the years after fifty. It was pointless as Alex was so fearful of what Dream would do should he let the Endless out, that there was zero hope of you getting out of your cage. So you just stuck to developing a non aggressive relationship with Dream, and it was… nice. More than nice actually. You got to see the other side of the Endless you hadn’t seen before.

It had to have been a century by the time Alexander Burgess made his last visit to the decrepit basement of Fawny Rig. He was old, frail, and nothing like the youthful boy who had murdered Jessamy. You knew he’d spent most of his life tormented by the knowledge that you and Dream sat in this cage in the basement of his home. A bitter satisfaction came from that knowledge, and yet, you couldn’t help but pity the man for being so weak. Overshadowed by his older brother to the very end. A fitting ending for the Burgess lineage.

As Alex spoke his last word and sat back down in his wheelchair, Paul began to push him away from the cage. Less than a second went by and you felt a massive ripple of power run through you. You jerked where you sat, holding in the gasp that wanted to crawl from your throat, and looked at Paul. He was looking back at you, and then at the ground. Following his gaze, your eyes widened when you spotted the clear break in the circle binding both you and Dream in place. Gods above. Your eyes didn’t shift back to Paul’s as he wheeled Alex out. A broken circle meant that Dream had a grasp on his power, a broken circle meant that you could use your own magic outside of your body!

A tremble began in your body as you forced yourself to remain calm and silent. Nearly 110 years of captivity and freedom was within your grasp because of Paul? You knew that Dream could also feel the change in your captivity, the muscles you could feel against your body had gone rigid the moment the circle had been broken. He knew he had his chance and without a doubt would be taking it. Hunching in a ball, you began murmuring all the incantations for low level teleportation magic. You didn’t know if you had enough magic to complete even an entry level spell, but you’d take which ever spell got you out of this place.

While you were concentrating, you felt the sands of Endless magic caressing your skin. Then gunshots and yelling, glass shattering, one of your spells activated and your eyes flickered open in triumph. Fingers clasped tightly together, the last you saw of Fawny Rig was unconscious guards and the glowing aura of a seething Endless. You’d never seen him so angry, so enraged. Your fight or flight instincts kicked in and your mind echoed one thought and one thought only: run.

Date Published: 10/5/23

Last Edit: 10/5/23

Masterlist | Next

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

[renjunniex]

Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem! Reader Series

Raving

Omega Part 1 | Omega Part 2 | Shape Shifted | Ice Pick | Abomination | Venomous | Frenemy | Restraint | Party Guessed | Fury

Prompt: Joining forces with Derek was difficult to say the least. Not only because he wanted to do things differently but it also meant you had to spend more time with Isaac.

a/n: heyyyy everybody! another chapter is here! super grateful for all the love you guys have been giving me seriously, thank you guys so much! ALSO YALL I DIDNT REALIZE I WAS SPELLING MR. HARRIS AS MR. HARRISON UNTIL JUST NOW. WHY DIDNT YALL TELL ME!?!? i went back and changed them so we should be good now lol

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"Oh, what the hell is this?"

You and Stiles were sitting at the station with food for Sheriff, who was very unhappy with what he had been given. "Veggie burger," sang Stiles as he rearranged the contents around the table. He handed you yours before setting his salad in front of him.

"Stiles, I asked for a hamburger," complained Sheriff his mouth still full.

"Well, veggie is healthier. We're being healthy," Stiles argued. You nodded along as you rustled your fork through your own salad to mix the contents around equally. Sheriff sighed but went back to unpacking his food, when he uncovered the basket of carrots and celery his face took on the look of disappointment once more, "Oh, hell, why are you trying to ruin my life?"

You gave the older man a pointed look, "That's very dramatic, don't you think? We just do this because we care." You weren't lying, Melissa may have been the one that took you in permanently but the Sheriff had always been like a father to you just as Melissa had been like a mother.

"I'm trying to extend your life, okay? Could you just eat it, please? And tell us what you found."

Sheriff disagreed, "No! I'm not sharing confidential police work with teenagers." That didn't stop you two from looking behind the man and at the wall. You pointed to it as Stiles called attention to the board, "Is that it on the board behind you?" He turned to look at it, "Don't look at that." Stiles continued to not listen, his eyes glued onto the wall.

"Avert your eyes. Hey!"

"I see arrows pointing at pictures," Stiles said move about in his chair.

He finally gave up when he realized that you two were not going to listen. "Okay, okay, stop! Fine. I found something." Both you and Stiles brought your attentions to him, instantly satisfied with his words.

"Mechanic and the couple who were murdered. They all had something in common."

"All three," you and Stiles asked.

"Yeah. You know what I always say. One's an incident. Two's coincidence-."

"Three's a pattern," Stiles finished for his father.

"The mechanic, the husband, and the wife- all the same age. All twenty-four."

Your eyebrows scrunched together, "Then what about Mr. Lahey?" Stiles looked over at you and agreed, "Isaac's dad isn't anywhere near twenty-four."

Sheriff had stuck his finger out, stopping your questions, "Which made me think either 'A,' Lahey's murder wasn't connected or 'B,' the ages were a coincidence, until I found this," he rolled his chair backwards a little and turned. Grabbing the file and handing it you, you opened it so both of you could expect the contents.

"Which would be 'C.' Did you know that Isaac Lahey has an older brother named Camden?" Even though the question was in general, meant for both of you, Sheriff did make the most eye contact with you. You shook your head, going back to reading the words.

"'Died in combat,'" whispered Stiles.

"But if he were alive today, take one guess as to how old he'd be."

"Twenty-four," you said.

Eating was apparently going to have to wait, since both men stood up and began to go over the board. "Man, I really just wanted to eat," you whined begrudgingly getting out of your chair. Your complainants were completely ignored as they started to plot.

"Now what if same age means same class- I mean did you think of that?" Sheriff brushed off his son's question with a slight wave, "Yeah, yeah." There was a brief moment of dead air until Sheriff confessed he hadn't thought of it.

"Well I would've. I mean- look I just got Lahey's file two hours ago." Even though the statement made sense to you, Stiles didn't accept that.

"TWO HOURS? Dad, people could be dying!"

"Yeah, I'm aware of that, thank you."

You placed a hand on Stiles' shoulders to make your presence known, "He can only keep looking at this stuff for so long, Stiles. Sometimes you need to step back to refresh your eyes."

Both guys settled down at your words, before turning towards the photos, "Same class," murmured Stiles. You all shared a look, "Do you have any old yearbooks, Sheriff," you asked.

Like on cue, they scrambled to get any old yearbooks and school files they could get their hands on. To be honest, your glad they didn't need your help on that because truth be told, you really were hungry. You only got a moment to stuff your face with food because they came rushing back soon after slamming all contents on the desk.

Stiles had found the file he was looking for, "Okay this is it, class of 2006. They all went to Beacon Hills."

"Including, Isaac's brother," stated Sheriff.

"Meaning they could've, theoretically, known each other," you said finishing your carrot before standing up once more.

"Two of them were married- so maybe they all just hung out."

Sheriff shook his head lightly, "Well, they could have had the same classes together. They could've-." You saw the man's face fall into a look of recognition. Stiles had caught it too, "What?"

"Same teacher." Mr. Harris' picture was on the page, clear as day.

"All four. Now I don't know how Mr. Lahey fits in, but this- kids, this is definitely a pattern. Alright, get me the 2006 yearbook. These names, we need faces."

"Which ones," you asked as Sheriff went to make a phone call. "Everyone in that chemistry class," he answered, "If the killer's not done killing..."

"One of them is next," Stiles said.

"Yeah."

~

Later that night, you had promised to meet Scott at the clinic to relay everything you just found out. He wanted you there though because Derek was planning to show up and he figured a three versus one when it came to opinions would work better in his favor.

"So, you weren't able to get tickets," you asked currently perched on the half wall in the lobby. The boy confirmed your question, "Nope, but we need to find some because Jackson seemed very hell bent on getting them."

You nodded slowly, "Meaning whoever is controlling him, desperately wants to be there." Scott agreed and then his head perked up, looking at the clinic door. You figured it was because he heard Derek so you felt no need to stand up from your position.

Scott walked over, unlocking the door letting Derek in, "What's he doing here," you heard him asked.

You looked up and felt your breath get caught in your throat, you weren't expecting Isaac to come. Guess it was only fair since Derek wasn't informed of your presence either. "I need him," the Alpha said bluntly.

"I don't trust him," Scott shot back. Mean while all you could do was stare and the Beta made eye contact with you for just a second.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either," you would be lying if you were to say that his voice didn't make your heart flutter. Once he finished his sentence he walked passed both the other werewolves standing close to where you were sitting on the wall.

"You know what and Derek really doesn't care."

You raised your hands as you blurted out, "Oh my god, one more person talks in third person and (Y/N) might just punch you all in your throats." You heard Isaac snort out a quiet laugh as he turned his head to look at you. His eyes gleamed like stars when they met yours.

Derek had interrupted your little moment, "Now where's the vet? Is he gonna help us or not?" You scoffed at the Alpha, "What great patience you have there, grumpy." You hopped off the wall and crossed the little group to stand next to Scott, just in time for Deaton to come out of the back room.

"That depends, your friend Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?"

"Save him," you and Scott synced.

"Kill him," Derek had said at the same time.

You and Scott both whipped around looking at the dark haired werewolf in disbelief, "Save him," Scott argued once more before looking at you. Your eyes both met and stared at each other for a moment, like a form of silent communication. You nodded at him once more before both of you turned back to Deaton and synced again, "Save him."

Deaton had a small smile on his face and nodded, gesturing for you all to follow him. Derek had silently walked passed definitely grumpy of being out numbered. Scott followed a second later, leaving you and Isaac alone for just a moment.

You turned to him quickly whispering, "Derek made you come?" He nodded in response, "And now I'm glad he did because I get to see my favorite girl." He stood next to you, throwing his arm around your shoulder, keeping you from walking towards the back room door. You chuckled lightly, rolling your eyes, "You're never gonna stop with the nicknames, are you?"

You moved passed him, his arm falling back to his side and you spoke once more, your voice still lowered, "Fine but we still need to talk everything through. After this is all over." He nodded with a smile on his face following behind you and into the room with the others. He took his place in between the other two werewolves and you stood next to Deaton and helped him lay everything out. The sound of Derek's voice made you look up.

"Watch what you touch," he said with Isaac's arm in his hand. Deaton had picked up a jar reading it then showing you the label and pointing to the ingredient in the book laid out in front of you. He had become some what like a teacher to you, every chance you got you were here, learning, reading, practicing and he would guide you. Seems like he thought now was still a good time to show you some things.

Isaac had leaned down resting his arms on the table and now at eye level with you. He smirked when he saw your attention on him before asking his question to Deaton, "So, what are you, some kind of witch?"

"No, I'm a veterinarian."

Deaton's reply made you shake your head in amusement. You saw Isaac process the answer with his lips taking an "oh" shape silently, before he looked at you again. It felt like every chance he got, his eyes were stuck on you.

"Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin. Except for when (Y/N) is able to learn healing abilities, but even then, that could take time we don't have and it would really only be effective after the fact." Your head shot up, your body still leaned over from reading the pages. You glanced at everyone in the room before meeting Deaton's eyes.

"Wait, I can do that?" Deaton chuckled at your astonishment and nodded, "Well that's news to me," you said looking at your best friend.

"We're open to suggestions," Derek continued to conversation. "What about an effective offense," asked Isaac.

"Unlikely," you scoffed as Derek began speaking again, "We already tried, I nearly took its head off. And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up."

You mumbled lightly, "I'm really glad I haven't had to fight this thing." The boys looked at you, a certain Alpha showing a very obvious annoyance, "What? I'm sorry, okay. Stiles isn't here to voice my thoughts like he always seems to, I can't help it."

Deaton looked at all of you, "Has it shown any weaknesses?"

Derek answered his question, "Well one- it can't swim."

"Does that go for Jackson as well?"

"No," Scott interjected as you shook your head, your posture now straight and your arms crossed. You continued for the Omega, "He's the captain of the swim team." Deaton nodded along at both inputs, "Essentially, you're trying to catch two people."

He turned grabbing something from a drawer, he show you an amulet, "A puppet... and a puppeteer." He set it on the table and continued, "One killed the husband but the other had to take care of the wife, do we know why?"

Scott piped up gaining everyone's attention, "I don't think Jackson could do it. His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murder. I think he couldn't let the same happen to someone else."

"How do you know it's not part of the rules?" Isaac's eyes were slightly glazed over as he stared at the table. When his eyes blinked and his attention was no longer stuck, he continued, "The Kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies too."

He looked at Scott and when he did, you felt your body jolt. It was the weirdest sensation and you didn't understand why it happened. It wasn't a normal reaction so your only guess could've been it was something supernatural. You checked to see if anyone noticed and when you confirmed no one did, you made a mental note to ask Deaton about it later.

"Does that mean your father was a murderer," Scott questioned.

"Wouldn't surprise me if he was." His eyes were back in your direction only his focus was on the wall behind you; you were okay with that though, you didn't want him to see the frown you had.

"Hold on. The book says they're bonded, right?" Deaton's hand was held out as he hypothesized, "What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him." You nodded along adding to his words, "Like they're not only bonded as in partners but mentally." Deaton pointed to you grabbing a small jar.

"What if something that affects the Kanima also affects its master." He circled the sand like substance around the amulet on the table, "Meaning what," Isaac asked.

"Meaning we can catch them," Scott started.

"Both of them," you finished.

~

The next morning consisted of both you and Scott telling Stiles everything on the way to school. "There's got to be some other way to get tickets, right?" Scott hopped out of Roscoe as he finished his question, helping you out as well. Stiles met you both on the sidewalk, "It's a secret show, there's only one way, and it's a secret." You adjusted your bag onto your shoulders, "Real helpful, Stiles," you joked.

"Hey!"

All three of you turned to find Matt, "You guys know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?"

"Just forget about it, nobody got hurt," Stiles tried to convince him. Matt gave him a confused look, "I-I had a concussion." You turned your head and laid it into Scott's shoulder, hiding your small laugh threatening to come out.

"Okay well no one got seriously hurt."

"I was in the E.R. for six hours."

"Okay, do you want to know the truth, Matt? Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now." Stiles had proven his point even more by leaning over and placing his hand just inches from the concrete. Your cover of your amusement was taken from you when Scott moved forward to ask if Matt was alright.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, now. So, you didn't get any tickets last night either."

"Are they selling?"

"Uh, no, but I managed to find two online. You should keep trying. Sounds like everyone's going to be there." He gave Scott a friendly fist to the shoulder before walking away.

"I don't like him," You and Stiles both said, once he was far enough.

"Hey, are you sure about this," he asked Scott. "Last time, whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job," Scott said.

You chimed in, "So, what do you think he's going to do this time?"

Stiles sighed, "Be there to make sure it happens," He shook his head before both boys turned, taking their places beside you as you walked in the school.

~

"Can anybody tell me where the hell Jackson is and why he missed morning practice?"

Coach was right, practice was already over and there was no sign of Jackson. Everyone shook their heads and Stiles leaned over so you and Scott could hear him better, "I thought I told you to keep an eye on him."

"STILINSKI!" You three straighten and looked at Coach, "Jackson!" Stiles shrugged, "Sorry, Coach I haven't seen him since the last time I saw him."

"Oh, and when was that?"

"The last time I saw him was definitely the time I saw him last."

"Again, Danny, tell Jackson no missing practice this close to the championships, okay," Coach was leaned over in Danny's eyesight. The boy nodded, "Sure, Coach." Coach started to back up into his office, "That goes for all of you. I should be coaching college." He started to close his door but just before he did, he looked at you, "(Y/N), I'm going to need to see you later for game plans."

You nodded, "You got it." He finally closed his door, which allowed the boys to go back to talking to Danny. "Sorry, but I only got two myself," Danny said.

"What- do you even have a date, yet?" Your head snapped to Stiles, your arm shooting out to smack him in the stomach, "Really?"

Danny's tone changed, "I'm working on it."

"Okay, okay, hear me out. You give us the tickets, and you devote your life to abstinence and just-." Before Stiles could finished both him and Scott were pulled away and you felt someone right behind you, "How do you two losers even survive?" It was Isaac, you looked behind you to see him looking between the two boys, his hands still gripping their shirts.

You scoffed and pointed to yourself, "That would be thanks to me, actually." Isaac looked at you and smirked, acknowledging your answer. Scott huffed, "What are we supposed to do? No one's even selling." He gestured to the whole locker room, where all the boys stood around, probably waiting for you to leave so they could begin changing.

Isaac's eyes were focused somewhere in the distance, you felts hands lightly place themselves on your waist guiding you closer to Scott. The tall werewolf patted Stiles on the chest, moving passed him, "Wait here, boys."

All of you gave each other looks of confusion, Scott asking, "What is he-?" But he never got to finish, thanks to the crash caused by Isaac. You guys flinched at the loudness, "Ow," you commented.

"Yup, that's excessive," Stiles added on, the sounds only getting louder as Isaac continued his actions. "That'll bruise."

"Ow," Scott repeated your first comment.

"Wow, okay." Isaac walked back over, tickets in hand, he handed you each one before turning around his hand in his pocket, "Enjoy the show."

You guys were in shock until you broke it with your words, "That was... so hot." Both boys looked at you, wide-eyed, when you saw them you just shrugged, "What? He's on our side now, I can say that."

Stiles pointed at you, "I thought you were mad at him?" Scott nodded in agreement.

You rocked your head from side to side, "I was and still kind of am, but that doesn't mean I can't find that," you circled your hand motioning to the boy walking away, "Extremely attractive." Scott and Stiles both scoffed, the spastic both pushing you slightly, "Get out of here, you dummy, let us change."

You laughed and walked out the room, only making it a few steps out the door before you heard your name once more. You turned to see the boy you were just talking about leaning against the wall, "I heard you." You smiled as cluelessly as you could and walked closer until you were inches from his figure, "Heard what, exactly?"

His arm came around your waist again, this time turning you so your back was pressed up against the wall and his body was trapping you. "You find me attractive, huh?" His eyes were on you, glancing at your lips before reaching your eyes once more, "Always did," you answered. You leaned a little closer missing his lips and bringing yours close to his ear and whispered, "See, isn't it so much more fun when you're on our side?"

You grabbed the wrist of his hand that was laying itself on your waist, removing it gently and sliding out of his grip, "I'll see you tonight, Isaac."

~

"Ketamine?"

"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage."

Deaton set down the syringe and bottle, "If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him enough to buy you some time." He turned picking up a jar with that same sand from the other night, "This is some of what you will use to create the barrier. This part is for you, Stiles. Only you." He placed it down and Stiles picked it up his eyebrow raised, "Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure. Can we maybe find a less pressure-filled task for me?"

"It's from the mountain ash tree, which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural." He gestured to the walls, "This office is lined with ashwood, making it difficult for someone like Scott or (Y/N) to cause me any trouble."

We turned back to Stiles to see him still confused, "Okay, so then what? I just spread this around the whole building and then neither Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?"

"They'll be trapped," Deaton confirmed.

"Doesn't sound too hard," Scott reassured.

"Not all there is," Deaton said. You sighed and slumped your posture, "There's always something."

"Think of it like gunpowder. It's just powder until a spark ignites it." He pointed to Stiles, "You have to be that spark, Stiles."

"If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that."

Scott looked at Stiles worried and then you to which you rolled your eyes. Deaton gave a silent chuckle, "Let me try a different analogy. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."

Stiles mumbled, "Force of will." You grabbed his hand, "You got this, no sweat."

"If this is going to work Stiles, you have to believe it."

~

The night had finally arrived, your nerves were definitely getting to you. It also didn't help that the car ride over seemed really awkward. Stiles was oddly quiet and you could tell that Scott noticed as well.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

You and Scott shrugged lightly and you spoke, "You didn't say anything the whole way here." Stiles grabbed the bag out of the Jeep and looked at you both, "No, I'm fine. Let's grab the other bag."

Scott looked at Stiles, "We can't, remember Deaton said you have to do this alone."

"Okay, this plan is really starting to suck."

You smiled, "There's our Stiles."

"No, not here, not now."

You turned to see Scott running off, panicked you looked at Stiles who was just as bewildered as you. "What," Stiles said.

"Scott!" You called as Stiles continued on, "What am I supposed to- plan officially sucks!" He looked at you and you just shrugged. "I'm going to go look for Isaac and Erica, you got this Stiles." He waved his hands at you in frustration, "Yeah, whatever, go make out with your boyfriend." You gasped, "He's not my boyfriend!"

"Yet."

You pointed behind him, "Go play with your sand." He huffed a laugh and you turned to make your way into the building. The music could already be heard from inside but still it was quite a shock on how loud it actually was. The lights were blinding, you squinted to try and find the two Betas but to no avail they were no where to be seen in the sea of people.

Deciding that staying on the outskirts was your best course of action, you began to make your way to the side where a line of pillars were. You leaned on one of them as you scanned the area again, looking for any signs of any werewolves.

"You planning on dancing tonight?"

You jumped at the sound of Isaac's voice right in your ear. You turned and you were sure you looked like a deer in headlights considering the boy only started laughing when he saw your face. You punched his shoulder and he faked a wince, "Don't do that! Where's Erica?"

He nudged his head in the direction of the crowd behind you, "In there, thought I would come look for you while she looked for Jackson."

"Me?"

"You and Scott."

You scoffed, "You said me." He smiled making the motion to press his forehead against yours, "Okay, it was mainly for you." You laughed and moved your head away, leaning back on the pillar, "My, you're quite the flirt these days." He shrugged leaning against the pillar with you, one hand in his pocket. He looked down and crossed your pinky with his.

"You're not as mad at me as you have been, it's a little easier now."

You chuckled and nodded, "True, true."

You saw Scott come around the corner, you let go of Isaac and that caused him to look where you were looking. You dashed towards the Omega and hugged him quickly, "Where did you go?"

"Allison's here."

You looked at him, "That means her dad is here." He nodded and started making his way to Isaac, who was still leaning against the pillar watching you guys. Scott handed him the syringe, "Why me," Isaac asked. They were standing side by side while you stood just slightly off from them.

"Because I got to make sure that Argent doesn't completely ruin the plan. Okay, look, you gotta do it intravenously, which means in the vein. When you find him, you pull back on this plunger right here. The neck is probably gonna be the easiest, so you find a vein, you jam it in there, and pull back on this trigger right here. Be careful."

Scott had given him a whole lecture on the plan, Isaac chuckled, "Oh, I doubt it'll even slightly hurt him." Scott shook his head, "No, I mean you. I don't want you to get hurt." Isaac's head shot to the side in surprise. There was this moment of silence between them and that's when you felt it... another jolt. This time it was stronger.

What was going on? Why has it happened twice now?

Your thoughts were broken when hands grabbed your shoulders. You blinked and refocused on Scott, "And you be careful too, okay? Stay out of the way." You scoffed, "Okay, Mom."

"(Y/N), I'm serious."

You laughed and pushed him away, "Yes, I know, I'll be careful. Now go growl at middle aged men." He smiled at you before running off. You and Isaac were left alone once again. He seemed to still be in shock at the conversation he just had.

"I told you so."

"What?"

"I told you, we care about you guys." He turned to see your smirk wearing face. He snickered, "You always have to be right, don't you." You gave a bright smile and a quick nod, "Yep," you grabbed his hand, "Seriously, be careful."

He used the grip you already had on his hand to bring you closer, his forehead back to resting on yours, "I will but it would be nice to have some incentive." You let your eyes lock with his, "Okay, you get out of this alive and I'll forgive you completely." His face practically lit up and he tried to hide it but you saw the bright expression just before he went back to his usual resting smirk.

"Now that's what I like to hear," his head shifted upwards and you felt his lips on your forehead. He pressed them there ever so gently before letting them leave your skin. "I'll see you soon, beautiful," he made the move of leaving first but was stopped by you grabbing the front of his shirt.

"You do anything too sexual with Erica and I'll kill you, Lahey, understand?"

He smirked, "Yes, ma'am."

~

You went to find Stiles after you had set up the area you guys were planning to keep Jackson. You guys had caught each other at the front entrance and you were now making your way towards the room, listening to Stiles excitement on how he had done his task.

You two had made it to the door and when you opened it you had startled the two Beta wolves. "Uh, no, no, no, just us. It's just us. Don't freak," Stiles rambled. You let out a breath of relief when you saw Isaac was alright and it looked like Isaac had done the same when he saw you.

"Is he okay," your best friend asked.

Isaac walked over to Jackson, raising his claw up, "Well... let's find out." When he went to swipe at Jackson his hand was caught as the lizard boy started to crush his hand. Isaac let out a groan of pain and he pulled back as hard as he could. He backed up to guys and you instantly grabbed his arm, "Are you okay?" Even when he was still grunting in pain, he nodded.

"Okay, no one does anything like that again, okay," Stiles pointed to everyone and he received unanimous nods. Isaac groaned one more time, "I thought the ketamine was supposed to put him out."

"Yeah, well, apparently this is all we're gonna get, so let's just hope that whoever's controlling him just decided to show up tonight."

Almost as if on cue, Jackson's eyes opened. You erratically began tapping Stiles and Isaac, "Guys, guys. Something's happening." Everyone watched Jackson as he started to speak, "I'm here." His voiced echoed and you could hear not just Jackson but someone else. It had to be the person controlling him.

"I'm right here with you."

You and Stiles looked at each other and slowly stepped towards the boy in the chair. "(Y/N), come back here." You ignored Isaac's words and crouched next to Stiles.

"Jackson, is that you," you asked quietly.

"Us. We're all here."

Stiles was taken aback by the answer, glancing over his shoulder at the werewolves behind you. "Are you the one killing people," Stiles questioned.

"We're the ones killing murderers."

His voice was full of venom and it was nearly as paralyzing as his actual toxin. It made you shiver out of fear. "So all the people you've killed so far-."

"Deserved it." He cut off Stiles violently.

"We got a little rule book that says you only go after murderers."

"Anything can break if enough pressure is applied."

You looked at Stiles again and took over the questioning, "Alright, so the people you're killing are all murderers then?"

"All. Each. Every one."

"Well, who'd they murder?"

"Me." His reply to your question truly stunned you, "They murdered me." Jackson's eyes rolled into his slitted ones and his head turned straight, "They murdered me." You and Stiles got up and started to back your way to the other two. Isaac had a small grip on your hip, keeping you close. You started to see Jackson's hands move, breaking free from its previous stillness.

"Alright," Stiles panicked, "Ketamine, the man needs more ketamine."

Isaac picked up the bottle, "We don't have anymore." Your best friend whipped around, "You used the whole bottle?" You saw Erica tap Stiles and you all looked to see Jackson standing, he hissed and his head began to shake violently.

"Okay, out, everybody out," you pushed Erica and Stiles forward. They needed no help from you though, all four of you rushed out of the room, bumping into each other until you closed the door. Everyone pressed their back on it and Stiles gave out instruction, "Okay, (Y/N), make a barrier hurry." It was too late, Jackson had busted through the wall and had made a break for it.

You guys all ran for the front door as everyone began leaving, you and Stiles made it outside and he crossed the line meeting Derek who was jogging over.

"Hey so we kind of lost Jackson inside, but it's-," Stiles' attention was on you and the two Betas who had also just walked out. You three were right on the line, they looked at you for reassurance and you raised your hand coming in contact with an invisible wall, it glowed a blueish color as you put more pressure on it.

"Oh, my god! It's working! Oh this is- yes! I did something!"

You heard a roar, it was so guttural. You felt the heat in your eyes, this time it was intense, if you weren't used to it by now it might have actually bugged you.

Scott

"Scott?" Derek had voiced your thought, he looked at you, he saw your eyes glow and he heard it too. The roar of a dying Scott.

"What," Stiles turned to Derek.

"Break it."

"What? No way!"

"Scott's dying!"

"What? How do you know that?"

"Oh, my god, Stiles! I just know! Break it!" Stiles broke the line and Derek took off. You could feel your feet moving before you could even think as you started to try and run too. You were stopped, however, by Isaac grabbing you, both arms wrapped around you.

"NO! LET GO! ISAAC! LET GO! SCOTT HE- HE'S HURT! YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO!" It was almost manic how much you thrashed to try and get out of the boy's hold. He held on tighter, "(Y/N), no, okay you can't, you can't fight yet. Derek will save him, okay, Derek will save him."

Your eyes were pouring tears at this point, "No, no, Scott he needs help, he needs me," you whimpered as you fell to the ground, Isaac coming with you but his arms never leaving their position around you.

His lips pressed against your hair and he just continued to comfort you, "I know, baby, I know. But he's gonna be okay. Derek's gonna save him. You have to stay here, okay, baby?"

You nodded still crying now holding onto Isaac like your life depended on it, muttering the same thing over and over again, "Scott he's- he's dying. He's dying- he's-."

*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧

"It's okay, baby, it's gonna be okay."

a/n: I finally gave you guys more isaac and y/n, aren't you guys happy with me? lol anyways hope you guys enjoy! let me know what you think!

taglist: @somiaw @vvicaddiction @mushroomelephant @breadbrobin @traumverloren-anderswelt @fandom-princess-forevermore @vanessa-boo

[heavyhitterheaux]

Teenage Woes Part 2

First Babies of Private Garden Fic

AN: Here we gooo

Synopsis: A certain person finds out what the triplets have done and takes matter into her own hands to set them straight while Jack it at his wits end with Axel's antics

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Read Part 1 first

First Babies of Private Garden Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You had just gotten back from Aruba and it was around four in the morning. Attempting to walk into the house quietly, you took to the steps while dragging your huge suitcase behind you and silently cursed to yourself about how much you bought since your bedroom was in the middle of the hallway and you were doing your best to not have to take breaks.

Once you were finally in your room, Jack was sound asleep as you ventured over to the closet to begin to put your clothes away and peel off the clothes that you had on so you could hop in the shower and quickly get in bed in order to sleep. The goal was to sleep in for as long as you could before waking up your youngest three to help them get ready for the day while the oldest three were on their own. You meant what you had said before you left for your girls trip, that you wouldn’t bend over backwards for them anymore like you had been doing since they acted nothing but ungrateful towards you.

They had to learn the hard way and Jack was also in the same boat right along with them because he had gone behind your back and given them the okay to have their phones as well as their car keys and it wasn’t until you confronted him about it that he quickly took them back.

Once moisturized and in a clean set of pajamas, you looked at your phone to see that it was around 5:30 in the morning and decided to sleep in the guest room not even wanting to be bothered with Jack. All of them had a lot of making up to do in order to get back in your good graces. 

It was now close to 8 in the morning when you finally got up and made your way downstairs to see that Jack was packing lunch for Cash and Camden who were sitting at the table fascinated by something on their tablet and eating their breakfast. Once they saw you, they immediately hopped out of their seats in order to greet you.

“Mommy! You’re back.” Jack looked over at you and simply smiled at you which you didn’t bother to return. He would talk to you about it after he dropped the kids off at school.

“We missed you. Daddy can’t cook.” Camden whispered the last part in your ear and all you did was laugh.

“I missed you too. And he’s gotten a little better. Go and finish your food so that I can take you to school.”

“I’ll take them, babe. I know you only got here a few hours ago and you can go back to sleep.”

This caused you to do a double take as you looked over at your husband in disbelief before crossing your arms.

“Worry about your oldest three, not them. I don’t mind.”

“Just let me do this, okay? I took them already and they’ve been on their best behavior since you left..” Jack pleaded with you and you finally agreed.

“Well of course, they’ll always be on their best behavior for their favorite parent. Anyway, where’s Nova?”

“PRESENT! Mommy, you’re back! Can you help me with my hair?” Nova asked you as she came into the kitchen and you immediately nodded.

“Of course, how did you want it?”

“Two French braids please.”

She sat down at the end of the table and handed you the comb in order to part her hair and you quickly braided it. Once finished, you handed her back the comb to put back upstairs in her room and looked over at the clock on the wall to see that everyone needed to leave in the next ten minutes in order to not be late.

Cash got down from the table first taking his bowl with him before going over to Jack so he could put it in the sink while Camden soon followed after he took his last bite.

"Come on, let's wash your hands so we can get in the car and leave." Jack told the two of them and they each moved their step stool in front of the sink to do so while Nova was putting the last of her things in her backpack and you were deciding on what you wanted to eat.

"Say bye to mommy so we can go."

Cash was the first one to hop up into your lap and you proceeded to kiss his cheek as he gave you a hug.

"Love you, mommy."

"Love you too, bubs."

Camden quickly followed suit and soon you were put into a bone crushing hug by Nova. You swore that she grew two inches in the two weeks that you had been gone.

Jack leaned down to kiss the top of your head and bring you into a hug after she had finally let go. 

"I'm still mad at you." Was all you said to him and he sighed.

"Babe…."

"No. And I was serious about you using your hand for a month because you are not putting your hands anywhere near me."

"I… let me drop them off and we'll talk about it when I come back."

"There really isn't any to talk about because I made myself clear before I left how this was going to go. As for now I'm hungry and about to make myself food and then go back to sleep."

When Jack had gotten back, he found you in the kitchen making what looked to be brownies and he went to grab one as you quickly slapped his hand away.

"OW!"

"Don't touch that. They aren't for you."

"Baby, can you please tell me what I can do to fix this?" One thing that he hated was the two of you being at odds and he was really feeling it now because he was caught in the middle of what his triplets did.

"I'm just so over the situation that it doesn't even matter."

"Yes it does because my wife is walking around our house upset and all I want to do is make it better."

"You already know the answer so I shouldn't have to tell you. I am literally three seconds away from giving the triplets and you the silent treatment but I'm not going to. I should have stayed away longer." 

"We need to make a decision and stick to it no matter what regarding them."

"I told you that you already knew the answer and if Autumn steps another toe out of line, hair out of place…."

"She's not going to. I'll make sure of it."

"If she doesn't like me now, she seriously is not going to like me then." You answered thinking of possible consequences in your head. You had absolutely no problem sending her away until she learned how to respect you as well as the rules that you had set into place.

"She does love you, just…"

"No. You always take up for her and I'm sick and tired of it. You have done that ever since she was little and I distinctly remember you thinking that it was going to be me who let her get away with everything, but look how the tables have turned. I don’t even recognize my once sweet little girl."

The two of you used to be partners in crime until she turned fifteen and then you had no idea what happened. Something had shifted and it wasn’t a good shift. 

"Because she literally acts like you. I know you've noticed. She actually came to me and asked what she could do for you to accept her apology." 

"But the disrespect towards me? I never did that to my mother or father because I knew better. And it seems like ever since they turned 16, they don't know how to fucking act but for her it started last year. But remember she's not apologizing if she doesn't mean it. I'm not taking care of anyone who is not grateful for all that I do towards them. I love them with everything in me and I do not take for granted the opportunity to be a mother, but they are seriously testing my patience." You answered while placing another batch in the oven.

"I agree that it was uncalled for and she should have never spoken to you like that."

"My patience is gone so…" You said while shrugging and Jack ran a hand through his curls.

"We'll get through this, babe."

"The only way we'll get through it is if we do this as a team."

“I know. So do you want to tell me why you slept in the guest room when you came back this morning?”

“Simple, I didn’t want to look at you.”

“BABY!”

“I’m just being honest. I needed a moment to myself and I really don’t get that anymore. You really made me feel as if what I say doesn’t hold any weight and doesn’t matter. I know you didn’t see it that way and apologized for it but still.”

“We have a surprise for you a little later this week and I think it will help ease some of the tension. But we’re all going to do better moving forward.”

“I’m not going to believe you until someone shows me.”

A few days later, it was Tuesday morning and Jack happened to be driving through Louisville in order to go to your favorite bakery to pick up the blueberry muffins that you like when he spotted Axel standing outside of Carmichael’s with a bunch of his friends and quickly turned around and pulled up outside of the store.

“AXEL WYATT HARLOW GET YOUR ASS IN THIS CAR NOW!”

Axel was startled at the sound of his father’s voice and he turned around to see him red in the face and fuming.

“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath and sighed before walking to the passenger side of the car and getting in.

Jack started driving and was silent for the entire time they rode to the bakery. Once he parked is when he finally turned to Axel.

“I’m convinced you want your mother to kill both of us.” Jack said while pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Dad…”

“I didn’t ask you to speak. So now we’re skipping school after me and your mother are paying that expensive ass tuition for all THREE of you to go there?”

“Please don’t tell her.”

“HOW CAN I NOT? SO I DROPPED YOU OFF AT SCHOOL THIS MORNING AND YOU DECIDED TO LEAVE AND WASTE MY MONEY IN THE PROCESS.”

“You have more than enough of it.” Axel muttered and Jack did a double take.

“Forget this gentle parenting. What the actual fuck is wrong with you? So you think money grows on trees now?”

“No…”

“Do you not know how hard me and your mother have worked for all six of you to live comfortably and not have a care in the world? I cannot believe that actually came out of your mouth. What happened to my little quiet innocent Axel who used to never talk back, never got an attitude, would always offer to help when you see that me, your mother, or siblings needed it? And you’ve been smoking because I smell it. So, once again you aren’t listening to the rules we’ve set in place.”

All Axel did was stay quiet.

“Being quiet now isn’t an answer. You had so much to say before so speak up. Since you want to step to me like you’re a grown ass man, stand on it. Obviously that means you can provide for yourself now, right?”

“I’m sorry.” Axel quietly said and Jack just shook his head at him. 

“Yeah, I bet you are. Go in the bakery and get your mom’s favorite muffins. That will be your peace offering after you tell her what you did and I will be standing there the entire time so try and lie to her if you want.”

Axel took Jack’s credit card and did what he was told and actually came back with two containers of them knowing that one probably wasn’t going to be enough.

Once the two of them reached the house, it was around 12 PM and you were caught off guard as you saw Jack with Axel and he was holding two containers of muffins.

“Jack…” You started to say, but all he did was cross his arms to look at Axel.

“Tell her what you did.”

“Umm…”

“What is going on? Ax, are you okay? Are you hurt?” You asked now, becoming nervous and checking him out for bumps and bruises. 

“5….4…3…” Jack began to say, but Axel immediately blurted it out.

“Skipped school and dad caught me in front of Carmichael’s and I was smoking. I got your favorite muffins as a peace offering.” Axel hesitantly said as he placed the muffins on the counter and all you were doing was looking at him.

Nothing was said for a few minutes as you were trying to regulate your breathing and this made both of them become nervous.

You calmly walked past both of them in the direction of the stairs and they were calling out to you in order to get your attention.

“MOM!”

“Babe!”

All you did was go up the steps and proceed to slam your bedroom door and lock it before either of them could get to you. 

“Mom! I’m sorry! It won’t happen again, I promise!” Axel said while knocking on your bedroom door while Jack was simply behind him pacing back and forth.

You didn’t give him a response.

“Mom, I know you’re mad, pissed even but…..”

That was when he suddenly heard your voice. 

“Axel Wyatt get away from my bedroom door NOW.”

Axel sighed in response before going into his own bedroom and once you heard his footsteps move away from the door, you opened it and was met with Jack who saw your eyes full of tears and you being red in the face from anger.

“Baby girl….”

“I don’t even know what to say anymore. I’m taking the golden girls for a walk.”

Once Ivy and Autumn were picked up by Jack and brought home, Autumn said she had a gift for you and for you to sit in the living room and she would bring it.

As Autumn handed you the box, you immediately knew it was a Birkin and for the first time in your life you weren’t impressed.

Opening it, you saw that it was a shade of baby blue outlining the black material and knew she did this and definitely asked Jack to buy it since this is one of the only colors that you didn’t have.

“Do you like it? I know you don’t have this one so I picked it out for you.” She quietly said and all you did was look at her before placing it back in the box.

“Am I supposed to be impressed by this because I’m not.” Was all you said and she started to look nervous while Ivy and Axel exchanged looks with each other.

“Well… I…. I figured that this was a part of my apology to you. Well all of us really.”

All you did was slide the box back towards her while Jack’s eyes went wide.

The fact that you didn’t even want the Birkin spoke volumes and then he knew that he as well as his three oldest children were in deep shit.

“Hmm, no thanks.”

“But… you love Birkins and have been obsessed with him since forever.” Axel offered and all you did was stare at him. 

“Your point?”

“Mommy, we’re really sorry for how we acted. We know that you’re so hard on us because you care about us and only want the best for us.” Ivy finally spoke up, but you weren’t budging.

“Spend time with your favorite parent. I have a nail appointment and then I have to go and get Nova, Cash, and Camden. Oh, and don’t forget that Maggie wants all of you over for dinner later, but just you four are going.”

“Wait, babe. What? Why?” Jack asked and all you did was stare at him before responding. 

“You know why. I have things to do so I need to get a move on.”

“But mom…” Axel started to say, but all you did was get up from the table and make your way to your bedroom in order to get dressed.

Once you had left, the triplets looked at their father who immediately sighed.

“I definitely thought the Birkin would work.” Axel said and all of them agreed.

“So, what now?” Ivy asked and for the first time Jack didn’t have an answer.

“This usually always worked so now I don’t have any idea what to do. I swear the three of you better not pull any more shit because she’s going to become unhinged and none of you have truly seen your mother when she’s pissed off.”

Later that evening, once everyone had settled at the dinner table at Maggie and Brian’s house, she was confused on why you as well as her other grandchildren were missing and thought that you would have shown up by now.

“Where’s Y/N and my other babies?” The table was quiet and the triplets didn’t dare make eye contact with her. Jack started to speak, but was immediately cut off by Clay.

“Well, you didn’t hear it from me, but you’re three oldest grandchildren as in Ivy, Axel, and Autumn have been extremely disrespectful towards her and talking back as well as getting suspended for cursing teachers out, fighting, smoking, and also skipping school so she told Jack to deal with them until they can learn to respect her and respect the rules that they set in place for them. Did I get it all, you three?” Clay asked while turning to look at all three of them before looking back at his mother and the look on her face had her ready to body slam them.

“EXCUSE ME? YOU THREE ARE DOING WHAT?”

“Grammy…..”

“Autumn, do NOT. Brian hand me my phone to call Y/N on facetime. One thing I will not tolerate is you disrespecting your parents. Especially my daughter who gave birth to all three of you.”

“Oh, and Autumn also said that they were cut out and not pushed out to her face. Forgot Jack told me that.” Clay added while patting him on the back and all he did was sigh.

You answered on the second ring on facetime when you saw that it was Maggie.

“Hi mom! Are you okay? Why are you making that face?” You asked and she sighed before answering you.

“Clay has told me that those oldest children of yours have been disrespectful towards both you and my oldest child and I had to call you to confirm.”

“Hmm that sounds about right, but your oldest child isn’t innocent either.”

“Oh shit.” Clay muttered while looking down at his plate.

“Oh, really? Tell me more.”

“I took Ivy and Axel’s phones away after they got suspended and told Ax he couldn’t play in his soccer game all for Jackman to turn around and do the complete opposite. They had the nerve to buy me a Birkin like that was going to be a peace offering for the way that they had been acting.”

“If it was me and Y/N…” Clay started to say, but Maggie cut him off.

“Clayborn, SHUT IT.”

Clay simply held up his hands in defense as Jack was simply being interested in his mashed potatoes. 

“Where are you right now?”

“Me and the babies are at Vincezo’s having a date night. We got dressed up and everything. Until the four of them act like they have sense, they aren’t allowed to go with me anywhere and yes Jack is included in that. I’m sick and tired of how they’ve been acting and since I don’t want to deal with it, I’m not going to. Oh and Autumn did say Jack was her favorite parent and how people in prison get treated better than they do and she’s not going to apologize because she doesn’t mean it. So they can stay there with their favorite parent while me and the babies go to Six Flags this weekend. All I try to do is the absolute best for them, but if they don’t want me too, that’s fine. Cam, baby let me help you cut that. It’s too big and I don't want you to choke.”

“Okay, sweetheart. That’s all I needed to know. Just make sure the four of you stay safe while I deal with your triplets and my oldest child.”

“Love you mom! Have fun because I think it’ll fall on deaf ears. Tell dad I said hi!”

“Will do, love you too.”

Once Maggie hung up, the room was silent.

“Mom…” Jack started to say and she immediately held up her hand while Brian was scratching the back of his neck looking nervous.

“The three of you have some nerve. Some serious nerve to be acting like this when you all were literally born with a silver spoon in your mouths. I get that you’re teenagers and want a little bit more independence but how is that going to happen when you show your entire ass and show that none of you can conduct yourselves? Autumn, you are the exact replica of your mother, but she never acted as horribly as you are. Yes, she fought, but the fact that you are also having secret boyfriends and going behind your parents backs? And Ivy, I assume you’re the one who cussed out your teacher. When were you taught to do that? And Axel, the quietest of my grandchildren is now smoking and trying to go through the rest of his life without a lung and skipping school and getting caught by your father. And how dare you say that you were cut out. So that makes it easier? Having to visit the three of you in the NICU everyday made it easier? Having postpartum depression from having the three of you made it easier? Putting her career on hold for the three of you so she could be a full time mother made it easier? At one point, we didn’t even know if Axel would still be here! And the fact that you opened your mouth to say it to her face.”

“Um, grandma, Autumn said it, not us.” Axel quietly said, but all she did was glare at him.

“Do you honestly think I care who said what at this point? That doesn’t take away how disrespectful you three were.”

No one spoke for a few minutes as Maggie began massaging her temples.

“You three don’t even know the half of what your mother has gone through to have you as well as keep you. So many times I thought that she would break, but never did and I’m proud to see how far she’s come from that shy little fourteen year old to a grown woman and I will be damned if her own offspring are disrespectful towards her. All three of you be quiet and eat your food and after this conversation tonight, if any of you do the slightest thing that is out of line of what their rules are, I will come and get you and you will be enrolled in Grandma’s boot camp for the rest of the year and you will not like it. Do not try me. And none of you are getting birthday and Christmas gifts this year so don’t bother asking.”

“Yes ma’am.” All three of them said as they continued to eat. Ivy didn’t really have an appetite, but knew that she should eat since you hadn’t been cooking lately and would probably have to eat a frozen burrito.

“Jackman, living room. NOW.”

The two of them were now sitting next to each other and Maggie had her arms crossed while staring at him. 

“Mom, I know.”

“Then why did you do that?! The two of you have to be on the same page because they are going to think that they can get away with anything and that’s not the case!”

“It was only the first time for them. Not like Autumn who has been suspended multiple times.”

“There is no reason for them to get a shorter punishment just because it was their first time. You’ve become so lenient with them and Y/N isn’t and I thought when they were born that it would be the opposite. You are not their friend, you are their PARENT. You two need to get on the same page and also text Y/N to bring me and Brian a slice of cheesecake. All four of you have stressed me the hell out tonight and when I call Y/N for an update, this better not happen again.”

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[runnning-outof-time]

How the Bestest Boy Celebrates the Holidays

Request: no - @raincoffeeandfandoms and I were talking about Christmas Cyril and this popped into my mind.

Pairing: no pairing … just Cyril, Alfie, and Tommy with the mention of the lovely OC Rose Solomons

Summary: Cyril’s two dads owners discuss how their canine best friend should be treated on the holidays.

Warnings: language (Alfie’s present…does it even need to be a warning?), two gangsters who are secretly softies when it comes to a certain dog - this is just a silly little story, y’all.

Word Count: 629

A/N: I hope you enjoy this little piece that I came up with after chatting with Flor….Cyril deserves to have the best holidays! Also thanks to the lovely Flor for this amazing picture - it’s what sparked this entire idea. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

“You’ve got Cyril’s presents all ready, yeah?” Alfie Solomons asked as he leaned back against his office’s chair, the phone receiver pressed to his ear.

Tommy Shelby sighed. The man on the other line hadn’t even greeted him. “He’s a fucking dog, Alfie,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, “please don’t tell me this is why you called.”

“He’s our fucking dog though, Tommy. He deserves some fucking presents, don’t you think?” Alfie quipped back, waving his hand in the air even though he was sitting by himself.

“I’ve been too busy to deal with it,” Tommy tried another strategy to deflect Alfie’s topic.

“And you think I haven’t been busy? Hmm?” Alfie quickly shot back, “you think the reason why I traipsed my way over to your fucking gaudy mansion for four of the last eight fucking days was to see you? You’re wrong, mate. I came for that dog. I only come for that dog. And then he enjoyed himself at Margate for the final four, was pampered like he should be. His gifts were custom-fucking-made, Tommy. But now you’re going to sell him short.”

“You made all of his presents?” Tommy picked one of the points Alfie made and asked him to elaborate on it, trying so hard to stay interested in this conversation. The conversation that was centered around a dog, and how said dog should be treated during the holidays.

“Nah, Rosie made most of ‘em,” Alfie answered nonchalantly, unable to stop a grin from forming as he mentioned his wife, “she sent me out to grab the rest…like the treats and whatnot.”

“And I’m needed to do the same now?” Tommy asked another question.

“It’s what’s right, Tommy,” Alfie insisted, “unless you want him thinking that Hanukkah is better than Christmas…then by all means, keep fucking it up for yourself.”

“Christmas isn’t until the 25th of the month, Alfie.”

“That’s just a week away.”

“Yeah, so I’ve got a week to get what I need for him.”

“It should be ready for when he returns, which is tomorrow.”

“Alfie…”

“Thomas,” Alfie leveled his tone to match the Birmingham gangster’s. “It needs to be right for him.”

Tommy let out a long sigh. There was no way he was going to beat Alfie Solomons at this fight, not when the other man’s mind had already been made up. They’d known each other too many years now for Tommy not to realize that that was how the baker from Camden Town operated.

“Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?” the blue-eyed man asked after a few moments had passed, deciding to change the topic of conversation. Silence came in response. “Alfie?” he checked to see if his confidant was still on the other side of the line.

“Nah, mate. That was it,” Alfie’s response was quick, and it made Tommy sigh again, “just make sure that dog’s presents are sorted, or it’s your fucking head on the line, got it?” The second half of his statement held a threatening tone.

“Got it,” Tommy responded. He was unable to get another word out before the line clicked and went dead. Alfie had hung up on him.

Tommy sat the phone back onto the hook before pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a sigh. Alfie was taking this whole holiday thing way too far. He was making a much bigger deal out of it than was needed.

Besides, if he knew the Peaky Blinder as much as he claimed he did, he would have known that Tommy already had all of Cyril’s presents purchased and in order…and that he had had them ready weeks ago.

That’s what the bestest boy deserves on the holidays, right?

I’m really not sure who I should tag in this … so I’m just gonna add some mutuals/people on here who might be interested - I’m sorry if I forgot anyone! Hopefully it gets sent out…..

@raincoffeeandfandoms @zablife @call-sign-shark @evita-shelby @cillmequick @emotionalcadaver @toms-cherry-trees @look-at-the-soul @thomashelbyswife @loverhymeswith @shelbydelrey @brummiereader @peakyltd @forgottenpeakywriter @there-goes-thefighter @hoodeddreams13 @peakyswritings @theshelbyslimited @gypsy-girl-08

MASTERLIST

[edwinspaynes]

Butterflies

A Herondaisy drabble based on @hanelizabeth's beautiful art. Also, @angeldaisies, I think you'll like this one too.

You can read it on Ao3!

---

James dimly recalled Cordelia once telling him that she looked better in deep hues rather than pastels. She could not have been more wrong. James knew that his wife would be beautiful in anything she chose to wear, make the wings of his heart beat heavily until it took off inside of his chest. And now, looking upon her in her newest gown, James felt those wings take flight and lodge in his throat.

He was lost for words. Breathless. Angel, Cordelia was a dream beyond anything he had ever imagined.

She spun around, an impish smile on her face. "So, do you like it? I know it is far from my usual attire, but I rather liked all of the butterflies on the skirt." She paused. "There's just so much... so much whimsy-"

James knew that his golden eyes were smoldering as he took her in. "'Whimsy' is perhaps not the word I would assign to what I am currently feeling," he said, his voice deep and rich. He laughed, a low sound in his moth-addled mouth as the butterflies moved low in his belly. "I am thinking more along the lines of 'beauty' and 'excessively hopeless desire.'"

In an attempt at true whimsy, James waggled his eyebrows, and Cordelia laughed. She strolled up to him, lifted a finger, and poked his nose. "Your expression is truly quite amusing," she informed him lightly. "As though I am some sort of angel come to life, though I assure you that I am having far too much fun teasing my husband to truly be angelic."

Up close her opal earrings winked. They were set in gold, bringing out the glint of the globe necklace that James still remembered being fastened around her neck for the first time. The gold complimented the flame of her hair perfectly, and the blue...

Well, that brought out the sky shade of her gown, and the white accents and butterflies and sash offset her rich brown skin. The curve of a smile graced her lips, and James...

He wove a hand around her waist.

He pulled her in close.

And when their lips met, the butterflies in his throat and stomach became too much to bear. He made a small noise of desire as he trailed his hand up the small of her back to rest at the nape of her hair, the thick red chignon brushing the sides of his hands...

Cordelia pushed him away with a giggle. "Do control yourself," she said. "There shall be plenty of time for that tonight, and I will wear the dress if you want."

"I certainly would not complain," James told her in perhaps too agreeable a tone. "But you're right. As much as it pains me to let go, I would not wish to miss our dinner reservation. You know that I can never say no to duck ala orange, tempting though it may be."

-

The duck was good, but Cordelia was better.

She sat across from him devouring her lamb chops and parsnips, talking of a ridiculous dinner that she had recently had with Thomas and Alastair at their home in Cornwall Gardens. "I am telling you, Alastair gave me those lemons to mock me," she said. "You know how I find them too sour!"

"Very rude of him," James agreed, though there was no mirth in it. He liked Alastair. "Next time we have him over, we'll find a way to get him back. Perhaps an extra lump of sugar in his tea?"

"Oh, no. Set out blackberry tarts and pretend that there are not enough for him. He will be horribly overset by the time I reveal that there are, in fact, more in the icebox."

James laughed.

Over dessert, he told Cordelia about the time that he had gone to a market in Alsace with his father, an overcast day when the sun shone over dozens of cards filled to the brim with books. "And that was my first experience with a pop-up stalls," he said. "And now they are an eternal part of my existence."

"Oh!" Cordelia clapped her hands. "I remembered something. Next week in Camden there is to be a book fair. I saw a flyer for it at Comb's Coffee."

"Well, we're going. Mark the date," he told her. "And I will, of course, buy you all the books you want."

Cordelia grinned radiantly, and the opals in her ears sparkled. "Sounds like I'll be requiring a handcart," she said.

"And don't worry," James told her. "I'll select the most insufferable-looking bargain romance that I see so we can read it before the fire and laugh at its nonsense all night."

"My favorite kind of sleepless night," Cordelia agreed.

"You mean second favorite," James argued.

"No, actually, I don't." She smiled. "Though, of course, our other activities are a very close second, I very much just enjoy spending time with you."

She is my best friend, James thought unbidden. Absolutely and completely, I am hers.

And when he finally peeled her butterfly dress off after a night of laughter by the fireplace, he did not forget that.

[taeswolfie]

𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 : 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚

☽︎𝑹𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈☾︎

Ch.19 - Ch.21

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Y/n sits in the chair besides Stiles in his dad's office. She had been invited by the Stilinski's to have dinner and, even if she wanted to, she couldn't say no to Stiles' big brown eyes. Noah takes a bite of his burger only to be disappointed by its contents. "Oh, what the hell is this?"

"Veggie burger." Stiles says.

"Stiles, I asked for a hamburger."

"Well, veggie is healthier. We're being healthy." He shows off his salad then glances at Y/n. "Well, most of us." The girl looks up at that, a french fry hanging halfway out her lips before she munches it.

Noah then lifts the paper lid on his other container that holds celery and carrot sticks. "Oh, hell, why are you trying to ruin my life?"

"I'm trying to extend your life, okay? Could you just eat it, please?"

"Tell you what, Sheriff." Y/n leans forward. "I will trade you five fries for a celery and two carrot sticks, and you stop complaining and eat your food. Deal?" She raises a brow at him. Noah thinks about it for a second then nods.

"Fair enough." Once the trading of items is finished Stiles speaks up again.

"Tell us what you found."

"No, I'm not sharing confidential police work with teenagers."

Stiles looks at the board behind his dad. "Is that it on the board behind you?"

Noah glances at it while Stiles cranes his neck to see it better. "Don't look at that."

"A'ight." He sits down again but moves right back to looking.

"Avert your eyes."

"Okay."

"Hey!"

"Just- it's just- I see- arrows pointing at pictures."

"Okay, okay, stop. Fine." The teens perk up a bit. "I found something. Mechanic and the couple who were murdered. They all had something in common."

"All three?" Y/n asks.

"Yeah. You know what I always say. One's an incident."

"Two's a coincidence." Y/n had been around them long enough to know this phrase.

"Three's a pattern." Stiles finishes.

"The mechanic, the husband, the wife- all the same age. All 24."

"Wait a minute, but what about Mr. Lahey? I mean, Isaac's dad isn't anywhere near 24."

"Which made me think that either A) Lahey's murder wasn't connected or B) the ages were a coincidence, until I found this, which would be C." He hands Stiles a folder and Y/n leans to look over his arm as he looks at it. "Did you know that Isaac Lahey had an older brother named Camden?"

"'Died in combat'." Y/n read from the file.

"But if he were alive today, take one guess as to how old he'd be."

"24." Stiles says. All three get up to look at the board closer. "Now what if same age means same class- I mean, did you think of that?"

"Yeah, yeah." Noah nods.

"You sure?" Y/n asks teasingly and he hesitates.

"Well, I would've. I mean, I- look I just got Lahey's file two hours ago."

Stiles looks at him in shock. "Two hours? Dad, people could be dying."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that. Thank you."

They look at the board again. "Same class." The Stilinski's look at each other and suddenly Y/n is dragged over to the desk where Noah puts some books and files down. They look through files and Stiles picks up a blue folder. "Okay, this is it. Class of 2006. They all went to Beacon Hills."

"Including Isaac's brother."

"All right, but so what if they all knew each other, you know?"

"Two of them were married." Y/n agrees.

"Maybe they all just hung out."

"Well, they could have had the same classes together. They could've..." Noah trails off when he sees something.

"What?"

"Same teacher." He moves a paper around for them to see that it shows Mr. Harris.

"Harris." Y/n grimaces. She really doesn't like the guy.

"They were all in his class?" Stiles asked.

"All four. And I don't know how Mr. Lahey fits in, but this- kids, this is definitely a pattern. All right, give me the 2006 yearbook. These names, we need faces." He starts calling someone as Y/n grabs the book.

"Which ones?" She asks.

"Everyone in that Chemistry class. If the killer's not done killing..."

"Then one of them's next." Stiles says.

"Yeah." Then he gets an answer on the phone. "Yeah, it's Stilinski." After a bit of her and Stiles finding the people in Harris' class she got a message from Scott saying he needed her at the clinic.

"I gotta go." She said once she looked at it. "I gotta help at the clinic for a bit tonight."

"That's fine. Thanks for the help, Y/n."

"No problem." She smiles at the Sheriff and then turns to Stiles. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

He nods. "Yeah."

"Great detective work, guys." She gathered her things and then gave Stiles a quick kiss. "Love ya!" She called as she dashed out the door.

Stiles looked after her wide-eyed for a moment with a little love sick smile before he looked back at his dad who was smirking at him. He realized that his dad just saw and heard that and he busied himself with the files again. "Shut up." But he still had a smile on his face.

...

Y/n got to the clinic just as Scott left the room to open the front door for someone. "Hey." She greeted Alan. "Meeting with Derek Hale?" He nodded. "This should be fun."

"What's he doing here?" She heard Scott ask.

"I need him." Derek answered.

"I don't trust him."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either." Isaac's voice said then.

"You know what? And Derek really doesn't care. Now where's the vet? Is he gonna help us or not?"

"That depends." Alan leans on the doorjamb with Y/n next to him. She nods her head in greeting to the newcomers. "Your friend, Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?" Derek said 'kill him' at the same time Scott and Y/n said 'save him'.

"Save him." Scott enunciates at Derek before looking back at Alan. "Save him." They all go into the back room and stand around the metal table, Y/n and Alan on one side, the werewolves on the other. Y/n places a tray of glass bottles filled with various things on the table.

Isaac goes to grab a bottle to look at it when Derek grabs his wrist and yanked it back. "Watch what you touch." He warns. While Alan looks through the bottles to find something hopefully useful Isaac leans his arms on the table.

"So what are you? Some kind of witch?" He asks Alan.

Y/n smirks at him. "That would be me." She flashes her eyes at him and he raises his brows a bit in surprise. "He's a veterinarian." She nods her head at Alan.

"Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin." Alan puts down a bottle.

"We're open to suggestions." Derek says.

"What about an effective offence?" Isaac offers.

"No, we already tried. I nearly took it's head off. And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up."

"Has it shown any weaknesses?" Alan asked.

"Well, one. It can't swim."

"Does that go for Jackson as well?"

"No. He's the captain of the swim team." Scott says.

"Essentially, you're trying to catch two people." He opens a drawer and grabs an item, closing the drawer and turning back to the group. "A puppet." He holds up a pendant depicting the horned god Cernunnos. "And a puppeteer." He puts the pendant on the table. "One killed the husband, but the other had to take care of the wife. Do we know why?"

"I don't think Jackson could do it. His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murdered. I think he couldn't let the same thing happen to someone else."

"How do you know it's not part of the rules? The kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies too." Isaac theorises.

"Does that mean your father was a murderer?"

"Wouldn't surprise me if he was."

"Hold on. The book says they're bonded, right?" Alan asks Y/n and she nods. "What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him?"

Y/n let's out a small 'ah' as she catches on. "So what if something that affects the kanima also affects its master?" She grabs the bottle of mountain ash, dumping a bit in her hand, and pours it over the pendant making the ash form a perfect circle around it. Alan smiles at her.

"Meaning what?" Isaac asks.

"Meaning we can catch them." Scott answers. "Both of them."

...

Stiles pulls into the school parking lot and parks near where Matt is locking up his bike. "There's gotta be some other way to get a ticket, right?" Scott says as he, Stiles and Y/n climb out of the Jeep.

"It's a secret show. There's only one way, and it's a secret." Stiles says.

"Hey." Matt suddenly calls and the three turn to look at him. "Any of you know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?"

"Just forget about it. Nobody got hurt."

"I- I had a concussion."

"Well, nobody got seriously hurt."

"I was in the ER for six hours."

"Hey, do you wanna know the truth, Matt? Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now." Stiles bends down and holds his hand an inch above the ground.

"Okay, settle down, tiger." Y/n makes him stand up straight and holds his hand, the action seeming to calm him a bit.

"Are you okay?" Scott asks Matt.

"Yeah, I'm fine now. So you didn't get any tickets last night either."

"Are they still selling?"

"Uh, no, but I managed to find two online. You should keep trying. Sounds like everyone's going to be there." Matt walks away.

"I don't like him." Stiles says.

"Me either." Y/n makes a face towards Matt's direction.

"Hey, are you sure about this?" He asks Scott.

"Last time, whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job, so what do you think he's gonna do this time?"

"Be there to make sure it happens." The three walk into school.

...

"Katamine?" Scott questions. Alan holds a vial of the drug up for the teens to see.

"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage." He explains and sets the bottle and a large syringe on the table. "If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him down enough to buy you some time." He grabs the bottle of mountain ash. "This is some of what you'll use to create the barrier. This part is for you and Y/n, Stiles." He sets the bottle down. "Only you two."

"Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure." Stiles picks up the bottle. "Can we maybe find a slightly less pressure-filled task for me?"

"You'll be fine, Stiles." Y/n assures and plucks the bottle from his fingers. "This is from the mountain ash tree."

"Which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural." Alan adds. "This office is lined with ashwood, making it difficult for someone like Scott to cause me any trouble."

"How come Y/n is able to use it then if she's also supernatural?" Stiles asks curiously.

"Witches are like the bridge between the natural and supernatural world." She explains. "We're supernatural enough to not be human, but human enough to not be affected by certain things."

"Okay, so then what? We just spread this around the whole building and then either Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?"

"They'll be trapped." Alan nods.

"Doesn't sound too hard." Scott tries to assure Stiles.

"Not all there is. Think of it like gunpowder. It's just a powder until a spark ignites it. You need to be that spark, Stiles."

"If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that. And why aren't you saying this to her?"

"Because I already know how to use it."

"Let me try a different analogy. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."

"Force of will." Stiles nods, yet he still seems unsure.

"Here's another example." Y/n offers. "It's kinda like pixie dust, you need to believe it will work or else it won't."

"If-" Alan moves his head a bit to make sure Stiles is looking at him. "If this is going to work, Stiles, you have to believe it."

…

That night Stiles pulls up outside the secret party after picking up Scott and Y/n. They all go to the back and Stiles opens it up. "You okay?" Scott suddenly asks Stiles as he grabs a bag of mountain ash.

"Yeah, why?"

"You just didn't say anything the whole way here."

"No, I'm fine." Y/n could tell that was a lie. Something was bothering him, she could feel it. Something at home. She had been waiting for them to be alone to say anything about it. "Grab the other bag, please." Stiles asks her which she complies.

Scott suddenly takes a few steps away as he hears something. "Not here, not now." He says just before he rushes away.

"What- Scott?" Stiles called after him, it's to no avail.

"Let him go. We'll be fine." Y/n gives him a reasurring smile. He goes to start pouring the ash before she stops him. "Hey." He gave her a questioning look. "What happened earlier?"

"I don't know what-"

"Stiles." She sighed. "I know when you're lying. It's not just the upticks in your heart either, I just... I just know, okay? So, please, don't lie to me."

He sighed and looked away. He was so quiet she thought he wouldn't speak until he did. "My dad was fired." He finally said, although it was a near whisper. "And it's my fault."

She lightly shook her head and hugged him, he practically wrapped himself around her for comfort as the bags were left momentarily forgotten by their feet. "It wasn't your fault." She spoke just as quietly. She pulled away and made him look at her by putting a hand on his cheek. "It wasn't, okay?" At her insistence he nodded a bit. "It'll be okay. I promise." When he managed a small smile she gave him a soft kiss, nothing rushed or heated, but slow and promising she'll be there for him.

When they pulled away his smile was more genuine. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She suddenly grinned as she stepped away from him. "Now, let's catch some baddies." She hauled up the bag of ash and took his hand. "Come on." He grabbed his own bag and she led them to the other side of the building. "I'll go this way, you go that way and we meet in the middle."

He nods with a deep breath. "Sounds like a plan." And then they start pouring the ash, going opposite ways to meet back around at the Jeep. It took a bit but not as long as it would have with just one of them pouring it. Y/n got back around before Stiles had. She figured he was going fast but slowish to make sure he poured it well enough. Y/n caught the last handful of ash in her hand and tossed it forward, finishing her last twenty feet of her half.

She was leaning against the Jeep, waiting for Stiles and keeping an eye out for whoever was creating that gunfire. She had a feeling it was Hunters, but the wolves seemed to be holding their own for now. She heard shuffling and turned to find Stiles as he caught his last handful of ash. "Oh, no." He whined. "What are we gonna do?" He immediatly started going into panic mode. "Y/n, I don't know what to do. There's like 50 feet of ash left and I'm hearing gunfire and werewolves-"

"Stiles, calm down. It's okay."

"How is this okay, Y/n? I've got a handful of magic fairy dust left and it's not enough. It's not enough."

"Stiles!" She snapped once she was in front of him. "It's enough. You have to believe." She spoke more softly. "Remember what Alan said? Just picture it. Believe and picture it working."

"I don't know-"

"Believe in me." She took his hands in hers, carefully curling her hand over the one holding the ash while intertwining the other. "If you can't fully believe in this, then believe in me. I know it will work. Trust me. Picture it." His eyes darted over her shoulder to a bumper sticker with a quote. Imagination is more important than knowledge - Einstein. He looked into her eyes, shining with determination and faith. He trusted her with anything and he believed in her unconditionally. If she believed that the ash was enough, then it was enough.

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. Just- just imagine." She nodded and took a step back, taking more when he followed. He kept his focus on her eyes, not paying attention to the slow trickle of mountain ash slipping though their fingers until their hands were open and empty. He looked down, half expecting the line to still be incomplete. When he saw it was indeed intact he laughed in excitement. "Yes!" He threw his hands up while Y/n smiled at him. He suddenly jumped onto the back of a car only to hop right back off when the alarm started going off.

Y/n rolled her eyes with a head shake. Her eyes flashed and she snapped her fingers, the car stopped blaring and Stiles continued his happy dance. "Told you."

"You are amazing." He quickly kissed her, making her eyes widen in surpise while he cheered some more.

She shook her head fondly with a smile before grabbing his hand. "Okay, that's enough celebrating. We still have someone to deal with." They made their way to the small area where they agreed to take Jackson when they got him.

Erica and Isaac anxiously watched over Jackson when the door opened. Stiles immediatly putting his hands up when Erica almost lunged at him. "No, no, no! Just us, it's just us." Y/n closed the door behind her and then looked at Jackson. He was seemingly passed out, slumped in a fold out chair.

"Is he okay?" Y/n asked.

"Well..." Isaac went over to him. "Let's find out." He pulled out his claws and went to swipe at Jackson.

"Isaac, wait-" Y/n tried to warn, when suddenly his arm was caught. He grunted in pain and fell to his knee when Jackson's grip was too strong. He managed to pull his arm free and retreat back to the group.

"Okay, no one does anything like that again, okay?" Stiles ordered. Erica nodded while Isaac was still in pain.

"Give me your arm." Y/n held her hand out expectantly. Isaac looked up at her warily. When she gave him a look to urge him forward he hesitantly held his arm out for her. She gently held his hand and carefully held the other over where he was injured, her eyes glowing as she encouraged his healing and healed a bit of it herself so he was in less pain.

"Thanks." He said when she let him go.

"No problem."

"I thought the ketamine was supposed to put him out."

"Yeah, well, apparently this is all we're going to get." Stiles said. "So let's just hope that whoever's controling him decided to show up tonight."

Jackson's eyes opened. He didn't look at any of them, just stared into space. "I'm here." He spoke although it wasn't his voice. It was distorted and sounded like more than one person was speaking. "I'm right here with you."

Y/n took a step forward, but Stiles grabbed her wrist and gave her a worried look. She nodded in reasurance and he let her go. She crouched down in front of Jackson, keeping a safe distance. "Jackson, is that you?"

"Us. We're all here."

She quirked a brow, glancing at the three behind her. "Are you the one killing people?"

"We're the ones killing murderers."

"So all the people you've killed so far-"

"Deserved it."

"We got a little rule book that says you only go after murderers."

"Anything can break if enough pressure's applied."

"That can lead to unforseen consequences most often than not. Are all the people you're killing murderers then?"

"All. Each. Every one."

"Who did they murder?"

"Me."

"What?"

"They murdered me." Erica and Isaac got anxious as Jackson's eyes shifted to his kanima ones. "They murdered me."

"Y/n, get back here." Stiles asked when Jackson's claws came out. She stood and backed up to him. "Okay, all right. More ketamine. The man needs ketamine. Come on!"

"We don't have any more." Isaac held up the empty bottle.

"You used it all?" Y/n asked incredulously. Erica anxiously tapped Y/n's arm and they looked over to see Jackson standing up. Y/n would have tried compelling him back to sleep if someone else hadn't already had control of his mind right then. Jackson screeched at them, half shifted. "Okay, out, out! Everybody out!"

The four rushed out of the room and piled against the door to hold it closed. "Okay, find something to move in front of the door." Stiles instructed. Another screech rang out and a second later the fully shifted kanima broke through the wall and ran away.

"Well, shit."

Stiles and Y/n go back out to the Jeep in the flow of people leaving the party. They step over the line as Derek comes up to them. "Hey, um, so we kind of lost Jackson inside, but it's-" Stiles cuts himself off when Erica and Isaac come out, but they pause when they sense something. Isaac crouches down to look at the ash line, glancing up at Erica. The two look nervous and confused because they can't cross. They haven't experienced mountain ash before. "Oh, my God. It's working! Oh, this is- we did something." He brags to Derek.

Y/n's eyes widen when she and Derek hear Scott's sudden roar. "Scott." She takes off and Stiles looks after her confused.

"What? Where are you-"

"Break it." Derek orders quickly.

"What? No way."

"Scott's dying!"

"Okay, what? How do you know that? Is that why Y/n-"

"Yes! We just know! Break it!"

Stiles drops to his knees and waves his hands down, creating a rush of air that dispersed the ash and broke the line. Derek rushed after Y/n as soon as he could. He caught up to her just as she went into a room. She spotted Scott on the ground as soon as she went in and darted to his side, dropping to her knees beside him. Derek was on her tail but paused just behind her, the wolfsbane in the air having an effect on him. Victoria came from the shadows and stabbed Derek in the back. He groans in pain and turns around, catching her arm before she could stab him again.

Y/n looked up in fear and without thinking she threw her hand up, her eyes flashing as she forced the knife from the woman's hands. Victoria stumbled from the sudden action. She recovered as Derek went for her. They struggled and ended up by the doors where the strobing lights filtered in. Derek growled and bit her in defense before she managed to toss him aside. She ran before he got up. When he saw the Hunter was gone he quickly went to help Y/n carry Scott out of that room.

…

Scott was layed out on the metal table in the backroom of the clinic. Alan had just finished helping the werewolves with Y/n's assistance. Derek sat in a chair against the wall, watching them. Alan lightly petted Scott's head in reasurance. The teen would be fine. "Thank you." Derek said. Y/n looked up at him and smiled.

Alan walked out into the front of the clinic, turning at the sound of a familiar voice. "I can't decide if l admire your sentimentality or despise it." Ms. Marin Morell sat in one of the waiting chairs and looked at him.

"If I want your opinion, I'll make an appointment with the guidance office."

"From the state of things, I think you could use a little guidance. Are you really going to leave all of this up to a couple of kids?"

"They're more capable than you think."

She looked away in thought. "And are you going to tell them what's coming?"

He glanced towards the back room. "They've got enough to worry about."

Y/n sits against the wall of the clinic, resting a bit as she watches over Scott, Derek seemingly doing the same as he rests his head against the wall with his eyes closed. She closes her eyes and copies Derek's position, trying to get some type of rest. It doesn't seem like she'll get it, however. She knows he's there without even opening her eyes.

Peter sits against the wall next to her. "You know, you could do so much more. If you practiced a bit of blood magic you'd be so much more confident in your abilities. You'd be a force to be reckoned with."

"I'm not ready." She muttered.

"You keep saying that, but are you really not ready? Or are you just too scared to try?"

She snapped her head to the side, brows furrowing as she looked towards him, he was already gone. She couldn't help but think of what he said.

Was she scared to try?

Ch.21

[andydrysdalerogers]

Sliding Into Home ~ Oh Captain! My Captain! 

Pairing: MLB!Frank Adler x Abigail Hernandez (OFC)

Synopsis:

After a trade from Boston to Los Angeles, first baseman Frank Adler would seem to have it all. Money, women, an amazing niece, yes Frank should have it all. Except for one thing. One thing that left after a mistake five years ago. Los Angeles should be the chance to start over. Except she is supposed to be in Boston. Not his new medical director.

* A Frank Adler AU x Major League Baseball Story**

Warning: ANGST (i can't stress this enough), second chances, cheating, S~M~U~T!!, slow burn, drug use, abandonment issues, betrayal, domestic violence (i may have missed some), flashbacks

Dividers by me

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: The One With The World Series

Sliding Into Home Master List Main Masterlist

The bus ride from Camden Yards to the hotel is a quiet one. Frank sat next to Johnny, who was almost deathly still. He never said a word as he walked off, the Boston players running onto the field. The locker room was quiet, showers and dressing done without a word to each other. They gathered their belongings, made sure the uniforms were placed in the bins for the support staff to clean and walked onto the bus.  

The Dodgers manager, Dave Roberts, walked to the front after the team had pulled into the hotel. “Men, we’ll have a debrief in the morning. This is just how the game goes. I don’t blame anyone, and you shouldn’t either. They just had magic tonight.  Get some sleep. We’ll meet at 9 AM and the flight is at noon.”  

Dave patted each player as they exited.  Their families were waiting for them, lined in their gear, solemn and quiet.  Frank sees Abby and Katie standing together, Mary in Scott’s arms, Marco wrapped around Susie. Frank blocks Johnny’s exit, allowing the rest of the team to exit.  “You know it wasn’t your fault.”  

“I know.”  

“Do you? Torch, Turner is a beast at bat. There was a 50/50 chance he was going to connect. It could have been anyone.”  

“But it was me. I let the team down, the city down, fuck, even my girlfriend and family.”  

“Johnny, no one is going to see it that way.”  

Johnny leaned back against his seat. “I knew going for my heater was a bad idea. But he missed it the first time. “ 

“You can’t beat yourself up with what ifs. Let’s get you to your girl and she can give you sympathy sex. It's better than victory sex sometimes.” Frank got up and got off the bus.  

“Hey Frank,” he turned back to Johnny. “Thanks.”  

“It’s what best friends are for.” Frank climbed down and Mary immediately ran into his arms. He held her tight as he felt her cry a little bit. “You ok Nugget?” 

Mary leaned back. “Shouldn't I be asking you that?” 

Frank shrugged.  “Probably but I think he needs this hug more than me.” He looked back at Johnny who was just now getting off the bus.  Mary ran to him and jumped up for a hug. Johnny’s reaction time was quick as he dropped his bag in time to catch her.  Frank walked over to Abby and Katie.  

“Is he ok?” Katie’s lower lip trembled.  

“He’ll be ok. Just needs some time and a few hugs.” Frank kissed her cheek. “Take care of him.”  

She nodded and walked over to Johnny and Mary.  Frank turned back to his wife. “I’m sorry I couldn’t bring the trophy home like i promised.”  

Abby shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to make it up to me another way.”  She reached up on her tiptoes. “I am so unbelievably proud of you Frank Adler. You played your best and that’s all that matters.” She kissed him softly as he wrapped his arms around her.  

“Can I take you to bed Cricket? Lose myself inside you?” 

She gave him a soft smile. “Always Frankie.”  

After greeting everyone else and heading up to the rooms, Frank watched his wife get ready for bed.  She carefully brushed out her hair and removed her jewelry before taking off the jersey with his name on the back. She stripped out of the leggings and was just in her bra and panties.  He could see that she was studying herself in the mirror when Frank saw it.  He got up and walked behind her.  “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Tell you what?” She looked back at him confused.  

“Oh sweetheart.”  He placed his warm hands around her middle. Framing the slight swell of her belly. “Here is our baby.”  

Abby stared at the mirror. The belly wasn’t there this morning. “It’s our baby.”  

“I don’t care that I lost. I won everything I ever wanted.” He moved her hair to the side so he could kiss her neck. He let his fingers skate over his sensitive skin as he kissed and licked the spot behind her ear. “You are the most beautiful woman. Strong and amazing, growing my baby.” He dipped his hand inside her panties, eliciting a moan from his wife. “Shh, Cricket. Hmm, so wet love.”  

“Frankie, please don’t tease,” Abby whimpered.  

He let his finger slip in and moved slowly back and forth, listening to his wife mewl at the sensations. “Do you still love me even if I didn’t win?” 

“Of course...shit... fuck,” Abby stuttered as Frank added another finger. She gripped his forearms to keep from falling.  He was wrecking her, a little at a time.  

“C’mon Cricket, use your words,” Frank gently taunted. “Be a good girl for me.”  

“I love you, Frankie,” she breathed out.  “So proud of you making it this far.”  

“Good girl,” he whispered in her ear as he pressed down on her sensitive clit. Abby almost doubled over but Frank held her to his chest.  

“Frankie, please,” she begged. He scooped her up and placed her on the bed.  He undid the bra and threw it across the room.  He pulled down her panties and held them to his nose, inhaling the scent.  Abby almost cummed at the motion and let out a whimper.  

“What should it be Cricket? Should I taste you first or should I just fuck you until you can’t walk anymore?” Frank slotted in between her legs, his erection straining in his boxer briefs.  

“I... I...” 

“Ok then,” Frank sighed. He stood up and removed his boxers, his cock bobbing up. “Dealer’s choice it is.” He climbs next to Abby and turned her to the side.  He lifted her leg to curl around his hip to open her. “I don’t want to hurt Peanut, but I also don’t want to take you hard Cricket,” he told her gently. He gripped his cock and teased between her legs, notching at her clit.  

“Frankie, I can’t... please.”  

“Anything for you Cricket.”  He slid slowly, stretching her open slowly.  From this angle, she could feel everything and her back bowed. He wrapped his arms around her to keep her close. “Talk to me Cricket.”  

“So deep Frankie, I can feel you everywhere.”  

“God, you feel so good Cricket. My beautiful girl.” He rocked his hips, sliding in and out.  He took his time, skating his fingers over her skin, gently pinching her nipples. Her breathing changed and he knew she was getting close.  “Ready to come for me Cricket?” She nodded against his chest. “Come baby, you know that my good girl always goes first.”  

Frank lowered a hand to her clit and rubbed gently.  The sensations were like lighting up her body. 

“Frankie,” she cried as her head tossed back onto his chest and the world imploded, blinding her in white light.  

‘Fuck Cricket, so tight, so good, fuck,’ as he followed her into space, losing himself in the stars he sees in his eyes. He slowed, and stopped, staying inside her.  He could feel water land on his arm. ‘Cricket?’ 

‘I’m sorry, Frankie. I just... I wish you had won and,’ she sucked in a breath, ‘and you were happy and then we did this and it feels so good and I don’t deserve you and...” 

“Whoa, baby, stop.” Frank gently slipped out and turned Abby to face him. “Cricket, its one World Series. Hopefully there will be others.” He wiped the tears falling. “My Cricket, the hormones getting to you?” She nodded and he chuckled. “Everything is going to be ok.  Sleep sweetheart.” He adjusted her so she slept on his chest.  He loved that she was so passionate about his career. But now is time for him to focus on her and Peanut.  

Six weeks later... 

Frank ran into the clinic, running late from an endorsement meeting.  “Hi, sorry, I’m looking for Abigail Adler?” 

“We just took her back. Follow me,” a nurse said, buzzing him through the door. Frank pulled off his coat, the beginning of December bringing a cold front in. The nurse knocked and waited for acknowledgement before opening the door. Sitting on the exam table was a very unhappy, pregnant Abby with her arms crossed.  

“Cricket, I am so sorry.” Frank went to her side. “The meeting ran long and then I got caught in the school traffic and I'm sorry.”  

“I told you I could have rescheduled to avoid this, Frankie." Abby huffed as she turned her head away from him.  

“I know Cricket. But you were so excited to see the baby and find out the gender and everything and I didn’t want you to miss it.” Frank uses his finger to make Abby look at him. “I’m sorry.”  

“Are you excited?” she asked in a small voice 

“Are you kidding?” Frank kissed her nose. “Steve said I was giving off excited vibrations today and it was driving him nuts.”  

“Hello, hello,” the doctor came in. “Mr. And Dr. Adler, nice to see you again.”  

“Hey Dr. Montgomery,” Frank said. “How’s it going?” 

“Busy, as always but I know we are excited today to see, what was it you called your baby again Frank?” 

“Look, that is not my best moment,” Frank said. “We call baby Peanut now.”  

Dr. Montgomery and Abby laughed as Frank blushed slightly. “Well, let’s take a look at Peanut.  Abby, shirt under your breast and pants slightly down.  This will be cold.”  She squirted some gel and grabbed the wand.  “Do we want to know the gender?” 

“We do. We have our last team dinner of the year tonight,” Frank said. Gonna do a gender reveal.” 

“Sounds fun.  Is someone planning the surprise for you?” 

“Yeah, Susie and Katie are waiting for us to hand it over,” Abby explained.  

“Alright so no pronouns.” Dr. Montgomery moved the wand around.  “Well, here is Peanut,” she said. “Just taking some measurements but they are looking perfect.  Right size and weight for 21 weeks.  Here is their head and it looks like they are sucking on a thumb.”  

Frank and Abby grinned at each other as Dr. Montgomery flipped on the audio.  Their baby’s heart beat was loud and rapid.  “Whoa,” Frank said. “I’m still not used to that. It's so fast.”  

“Yeah, in the womb, the baby's heart is pumping so fast because the blood circulates quickly,” Dr. Montgomery explains. “But everything looks good. Abby, your weight is good, and your levels are great. I’ll print some pictures for you and put the gender into an envelope.” She handed a towel to Abby.  “I want to see you in four weeks.” 

“Thanks Doc,” Frank said.  

“I was sorry to see you lose the World Series Frank, but I know, next year is our year.”  She patted his back.  “See you guys later.”  

Frank took Abby’s hand, and they picked up the envelope and pictures.  “Peanut is cute, just like their mama.”  

“Shut up Frankie,” she replied with a smile. “Ready for the dinner?” 

“Yeah, Phelps and Roberts said they have a couple of year end announcements and then just the dinner.”  

“Well, I have to head back to the office,” Abby said.  “I’ll see you at home?” 

“Yeah, Nugget and I are gonna work on the nursery. Scott said they delivered the crib and dresser.”  

“What color?” 

“What part of surprise did you not understand Cricket?” A couple of weeks after the season ended, Frank asked Abby if he could decorate and set up the nursery.  He had promised that it would be gender neutral.  

Abby pouted. “Fine. I love you.”  

“Love you too Cricket.”  

A couple of hours later, Frank was getting Mary ready to go when he called up the stairs. “Cricket! We’re gonna be late!” 

“Patience is a virtue,” she called back down.  

“Not right now, it isn’t.”  

“Alright, alright!”  She walked down the stairs and Frank stopped. You know that saying that women glow when they are pregnant? Frank understood that saying now. Abby glowed as she walked toward in a cream colored sweater dress and brown boots.  Her bump was on display, her hair was in her curls and just held back with a cream headband.  

“Wow,” Frank breathed. “Cricket, you look beautiful.” 

Abby blushed. “Thanks Frankie.” He helped her into her coat, and they headed to the restaurant.  

The dinner was fun, the last time the team would together until spring training.  Some may leave and some retire.  As desert was being prepared, Todd Phelps and Dave Roberts stood in the middle of the room. It falls silent as Todd raises his hand.  

“Alright team, it was a heartbreaking end to the season.  But it has been one of the best seasons the Dodgers have ever had.”  Applause breaks out around the room. “Not only did we have two Golden Glove winners in Storm and Betts, we also have our league MVP and golden Glove winner, Frank Adler.” More applause and cheers for Frank, who flushed from the attention.  

“We are so proud of this team,” Dave continued.  “We know that there may be some changes that could happen.  But there are a couple of things we are certain off, our captains for next year. We have four men that we are bestowing this honor to. Mookie Betts, Will Smith, Johnny Storm and Frank Adler.”  

Frank sat stunned as Mary jumped in his lap and Abby kissed his cheek. Johnny looked blankly as Katie cheered and hugged him.  

“Johnny,” Dave says, “I know you think the loss was your fault, but it wasn’t.  Management does not blame you, the team doesn’t blame you. You have been a professional, sitting through media, taking blame that wasn’t yours. That’s the kind of leadership we are looking for in our organization and the perfect example we want to set.”  

The team cheered and congratulated their new captains as Katie and Susie set up the gender reveal. Katie whistled to get everyone’s attention again.  “We have one more surprise to finish. Mr. And Mrs. Alder, Miss Mary, we need you up here.”  The family moved to the front. An elaborate box was set up with a string to open it.  “On the count of three, pull the string and we’ll find out if we a boy or a girl joining our Dodger family.  Ready?” 

The whole room joined the count down. 

“THREE!” 

“TWO!” 

“ONE!” 

Oh, you thought I wouldn't give one more cliffhanger?  See you for the finale! 

NEXT

Taglist

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@before-we-get-started

@tinkerbelle67

@bunnyforhim

@peaceinourtime82

[solomons-finest-rum]

Fic authors self-rec! ✨ When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers 🖤

Ah thank you love! You pretty much know the list will always have my favourite creation to date, my mini multi-chapter baby The Elephant in the Room

SUMMARY — What you thought would be a nice private space rented from a nice lady in a nice neighbourhood soon turned to be a living nightmare. Enter: the most eccentric little girl and her even more unconventional father who just so happens to be the criminal boss of Camden Town.

Next up I really like the first one where I dabbled a little with dark academia vibes, Big Bad Wolf

SUMMARY — You were one of the proud group of pioneers — women who fought for their right to higher education and refused to be reduced to the role of a housewife. It was the new era, the new dawn and the beginning of the new semester at the university you taught at—alongside your eccentric husband.

I must give this one a little spotlight because I'm still unsure sometimes how to write modern Alfie but hey, I tried... The Muse

SUMMARY — An eccentric film director and a brilliant actress—you and Alfie used to be a match made in Hollywood heaven. Until you two broke up and you vowed never to make another movie with him again.

I think it was you who inspired me most to think about Edna Solomons as much as I have and here is the fic that proves we're a great team! (Or actually... I'm not so sure Edna took his last name anyway. But I digress.) Hold On

SUMMARY — Alfie and his wife. Healing had surprisingly nothing and everything in common with falling in love.

And here is actually a fic I'll never stop thinking about. I still wish the creativity I had when I wrote this would come back to me to write something equally fun. (and the title of course is the name of my favourite perfume) Thé Noir

SUMMARY — Soulmate!AU. Life is not exactly a bed of roses when your soulmate is none other than Alfie Solomons. This is the story of an unbreakable bond you share, with the heartache of war and the epic love story that follows.

Thank you so much for all the love and all the comments and all the reblogs on these fics! I appreciate this so so much and hope that I can come back to being as creative as I was when I wrote them. But we shall see I guess. Maybe the spark is still there.

[fuckyeah-dragrace]

That funny little girl

it’s here! i can’t believe it either but it’s been a whole year of single mom au right now and holy shit thank you all so so so much for supporting this journey with your love and appreciation for my writing. there are too many people to thank so if you ever read, liked, reblogged anything from this series, this is for you because i wouldn’t have kept going without all of you. this my love letter to all of you for making this quite honestly, the best year of my life. 

thank you <3

--

“A little more to the right. Little more, there! That’s it.” Camden said as she watched Daya and Bosco try and hang up the large “Happy Birthday” banner over the table.

“Finally.” Bosco huffed, jumping off a wooden stool. “That thing better stay up or I am shoving a thumbtack in Betty’s eye.”

“What did I do?”

“No need to be dramatic, darling.” The redhead rolled her eyes, walking and kissing her girlfriend's cheek, their pout disappearing in a snap before she left to head inside, hearing Brooke call for her in the kitchen.

Daya looked around the landscape. Balloons and tablecloths filled the green backyard in a sea of bright colors. A subtle breeze blew the wisps of her blonde hair into her eyes. It was a gorgeous day, perfect for kids to run around until the sun went down.

“Need anything else out here, Di?” They asked, coming up to the blondes sided. She shook her head and rubbed her sweating palms on her shorts.

“I can handle the rest. Check and see if my Moms and Marsh need any help in the kitchen and check in on your baby.”

“Can do.” Her friend saluted with a grin, leaving her alone with the wind in the backyard. She looked back again at the backyard and sighed.

Today was the most special day because Ava, her baby, was turning five. She couldn’t believe it, time had gone in the blink of an eye and the wide eyed baby she fell for was walking, talking and her own person but still so similar to how she was five years ago. 

She loves helping in the kitchen every morning and sitting on the counter while Daya made her coffee. She still hates bath time and protests and pouts the whole time unless she has her stingray and shark floating in the water with her. She loves car rides with the window rolled down and quiet music, pretending to fall asleep at the end of every trip to be carried inside with her muffled giggles over her mothers shoulders. 

But she’s still her little girl. She still rests her head over Dayas chest when they lay together and her little hand still searches for something to hold and when Daya gives her a finger to hold, she smiles before falling asleep.  

The days are long but the months and years go by in the blink of an eye. She would give anything to have those sleepless nights of teething or cranky mornings again. She sat down at one of the tables outside, the plastic dollar table cloth blowing in the wind. If you told her years ago she would be sitting the backyard of her home with her wife and daughter she would laugh and call you crazy but she couldn’t be happier at the notion now of being someone’s wife and mother.

“Mama!”

She felt a small body jump onto her back, nearly knocking her to the ground with a grunt. She was face to face with a little blonde girl grinning at her.

“Ava, careful.” Jasmine chuckled walking up to the pair. “Hi baby.” She smiled and kissed Dayas cheek.

“Mama guess what!” Ava giggled, sitting in her mothers lap and smiling widely at her.

“What, baby bug?” She asked, playing along with her excitement.

“It’s my birthday!”

“What?! No way! My baby can’t be getting older.” She tickled the girls sides, getting her to erupt into squeals and giggles.

“I am! I’m five now!”

“That’s so many.” She kissed her forehead and smiled at her. “I love you, dragonfly.”

“Love you too Mama.” She wrapped her arms around her neck. Daya hugged back, picking her up and cradling her in her strong arms. One hand rubbing her back and fingering the loose blonde strands from her little ponytail.

Jasmine smiled at them both, walking over and kissing Dayas cheek again. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She whispered, blinking back small tears. “Just really happy. Like really fucking happy.” She said with a laugh.

“Mama, that’s a not nice word.” Ava chided with a giggle.

“Sorry, dragonfly.” She smiled and kissed her head. “Mamas just super excited for your birthday.”

“Are you getting motional like Mommy did this mornin?”

“Just a little bit.” She chuckled seeing Jasmines little pout. “We just can’t believe our baby girl’s so big now.”

“We love you so so much, Avie.” Jasmine cradled the girls cheek and kissed her forehead.

“Love you too, Mommy.” She reached and hugged her shoulder, hand holding onto her necklace like she would when she was an infant.

Daya brought Jasmine closer by her hip, holding everyone close. Ava had her head against Dayas heart as the swayed together in the breeze.

“Did you everything you’d end up here in five years?” Jasmine said softly, relaxing in her wife’s arms and tracing shapes on her daughters back.

“That I’d be married to greatest woman in the world and have the cutest kid ever? No way, I never thought I’d get this lucky.” She looked at her wife, that feeling filling her chest every time she looked at her. Warmth and love and pure adoration, it was home. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you, Jasmine Faith.”

“Shit.” The shorter woman mumbled, wiping her eyes. “Di, you can’t say stuff like that or else I’m going to cry.” She laughed.

Daya chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Do you want me to take it back?”

“Hell no.” She grinned, pecking her lips. “I feel the same way. I love you, Dayanara Elizabeth. I love our life and our daughter.”

She smiled and rested her chin on her head, kissing her part and mumbling more “I love yous”. She closed her eyes and savored the moment, filing away every sensation to memory, not wanting to forget any of it.

“Daya! Foods done!”

She opened her eyes slowly, keeping her family close before settling Ava on the ground. “Come birthday girl, Nonna made your favorite.”

“Yay!” The girl cheered, running for the door where her Aunt Marcia stood, chuckling and hugging before they went inside.

She took Jasmines hand in hers, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tight as they started to walk inside. The years went fast and the days are long, and Daya knew she was going to cherish every last one she got with her funny little girl.

[artificialqueens]

Mayhem Day 4: Staying at a Bed & Breakfast Together (Camgeria) - Mar

A/N: Happy May trope Mayhem everyone! The most wonderful time of the year.

You can find this on ao3

Tags for @duckprintspress: rpdr fanfiction, may trope mayhem, angeria paris van michaels, lady camden, camgeria, angeria x camden, fluff, mar 

***

“Here’s the schedule with all of the activities we have here at the lodge,” the receptionist said in the irritatingly cheerful voice she had not dropped since the couple arrived. “We have basket weaving at three, a lovely hike through the woods at four, and you will not want to miss the gazebo under our emblematic magnolias. It is very romantic,” said the woman, her tone getting ever higher in pitch. “Dinner is at five and I am sure you will blend in perfectly with all the other couples at the lodge. This is a very friendly, accepting place,” she emphasized, like she was saying it as a mantra to guide her own attitude. She cleared her throat and her smile got so wide, it looked like her face would split. “I will leave you two ladies to settle down, but don’t hesitate to call any of us if you need anything.”

With that, she scurried out of their room and left the guests alone.

Camden burst out laughing as soon as the door closed.

Angeria slumped back on the door with her eyes closed, one hand on her neck.

“I feel like my heart’s in my throat.”

“Told you they’d buy it,” Camden said too smugly as she lounged on the king bed. The only bed in the room, which Camden said was necessary, otherwise no one would believe them.

“I don’t know that the honeymoon discount was worth the five years of my life we just shaved off.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Camden said, rolling her eyes. “Didn’t you do theater in middle school? Here’s your chance to flex those muscles again.”

“I played Villager number three for one play, and in the next one, they made me be a mountain. A non-speaking mountain,” Angeria remarked. Camden pressed her lips to keep from laughing. “You can imagine what my muscles are.”

“Well, you sold it,” Camden said as she got on her knees and gave her a round of applause.

“Only thing I did was hold your hand and nod while you talked a mile a minute.”

“And you played your part admirably. Very convincing hand holding, Angie, enough to make a girl feel like a real newly wed.”

“Shut up,” Angeria said as she bit a smile and pushed Camden’s shoulder. The girl flopped on her back and made grabby hands at Angeria.

“Come cuddle your wife.”

“You don’t get to make wifely demands,” Angeria said, taking her sweet time discarding the layers of clothing she had needed to face the countryside autumn. “Put a real ring on it first, not like this cheap shit you got us,” she said as she waved the metal band on her finger.

“No premarital cuddles?” Camden pouted. “You’re strict.”

I’m careful, Angeria thought.

Cuddling was all fine and well when they were back home, with their friends, and enough distractions to keep Angeria’s thoughts away from how much she wished she could hold Camden all the time. But for a long weekend in a secluded lodge advertised specifically to couples for its romantic ambiance, Angeria knew it was the start of a bad idea. Like the one that had gotten them here in the first place.

“So… basket weaving…” Camden said carefully, reading the pamphlet she had picked up at the front desk. “Not really my style, but if my wife wants to go, I will happily join her. Or do you wanna go sample maple syrups? That could be fun.”

“It could, but I was promised a hot tub,” Angeria said. “It was the main selling point, in fact.”

“Yes, and we will definitely use it,” Camden promised. “But don’t you think the hot tub will be even better after coming in from outside, shivering and with numb fingers?”

“You are such a weirdo,” Angeria said as she got her outside clothes back on. What could she say? Camden knew how to sell her on anything.

“That’s why you married me,” Camden said as she jumped up from the bed and planted a noisy kiss on Angeria’s cheek. “Let’s hustle, now. I read that if you drink a pint of straight syrup, they give you one for free!”

Camden guided Angeria downstairs by the hand, playing up the lovey-doveyness in front of the hotel staff, kissing Angeria’s cheeks and calling her pet names that made her gag. Angeria played along as best she could, and she had to admit it was fun to fool everyone. It gave her a kick of adrenaline that was pleasantly soothed by the gorgeous view of the forest right outside the lodge, and the steady motion of Camden’s thumb stroking her knuckles, holding her hand even when no one was looking.

Angeria filled her lungs with an air very different from the one back home. They could hear birds, and leaves under their feet, and a distant brook they both headed too without thinking. All this wonder, while Camden held on to her. Maybe she could enjoy that part, too. Maybe it wouldn’t be bad to play honeymooners for the weekend.

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day (green tea!) Welcome to the weekend!

Wow! Here we are again: Friday! Where did that week go? No, seriously, where did that week go?

First of all, many thanks to everyone that got involved with Throwback Thursday on my page. Yesterday’s word was HISTORY. Again, another emotive word! It has both good and bad connotations for people. All of those photos on Tuesday made everybody very nostalgic. Whenever I pass The Electric Ballroom, I remember Paul ‘Trouble’ Anderson playing ‘The Return Of The Magnificent Seven’ by The Clash. Over those huge speakers, that big old bass line absolutely blew my mind!

Was it hot enough for you yesterday? 30 plus degrees for the fourth day in a row! I spoke to one of my students in Los Angeles and he was gutted! “It’s only 24 degrees where I am!”

Yes, there is publicity saying I’ll be on stage at the Camden Music Festival on Saturday at 1.00 p.m. but the person that created that schedule was clearly on the cooking sherry! Unless Gordon can find me a new slot – apologies – I won’t be coming to Camden! You’ll get your Lindsay hug and your selfie some other day.

Popped into Tesco’s yesterday’s and found this woman with her arms full of vegetables. Something was about to drop on the ground. “Would you like a basket?” I said to her, giving her my basket. “You’re such a gentleman!” she said. “Does your wife tell you that?” “Yes,” I replied, but I didn’t elaborate! “If my husband was here,” she added, “he would’ve done that!” What is ‘being a gentleman’? And is it important to women? Whenever people come into the Mi-Soul studio, I always offer and then make them a cuppa, and they always remember that act of courtesy! Seems pretty normal behaviour to me! I still open and hold doors open for women. Seems pretty normal behaviour to me. Other men, maybe not? It reminds me of that classic meme of a brief social media exchange. A woman asks, “Do men still open car doors?” And, underneath it, some smart alec has replied, “How do you think we get inside?”

Really hope you can join me tomorrow at 1.00 p.m. for ‘The A-Z Of Mi-Soul Music’: The Letter Q. We’re going to Jamaica for a wedding on September 13th, so I’ll miss one radio show (September 16th) but I’ll be back in time for the start of The Letter R on September 23rd.

The Trouble has bought me some holiday clothing. I tried it on yesterday. Man, I look good! “I’m going to look better than you!” I said. She chuckled to herself. “Sure, baby!” However, I know better! I really look good! Testament to her good taste, though.

Have a fabulous and funky Friday! I love you all. You’re probably thinking, “You don’t even know me!” but, if people can hate for no reason, why can’t I love?

[riversofmars]

Happy Sunday! As promised, the next chapter. Action is about to kick off...

Chapter 23: Point of View

I think a large part of facing any problem is accepting that there is no way around it. People have a tendency to avoid things, to procrastinate and put things off given half the chance. Why approach unpleasant things when the need isn’t pressing? Some people would say: to avoid the problem getting bigger and make things easier in the long run, but they’re merely better at recognising and accepting the inevitability of a task.

Helen and I had worked our way towards acceptance of our circumstances and towards facing our demons. It had been a long process, drenched in tears and accompanied by many a promise, but it was what we needed. We were finally able to face the last hurdle of this adventure with clear heads and determined hearts. 

“Ready to go?” River prompted and of course, I wasn’t, but I recognised the necessity of it and was able to put aside my feelings. Things would be alright. They had to be. They always had been before and this would be no exception. I reminded myself that if I hadn’t seen one possible future, I wouldn’t be nearly as reluctant and that’s all it was: One possible future. One that we knew to avoid. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I told her and focused my eyes on Helen who reached to grab and squeeze my hand.

“Come back alive,” she told me firmly, and she, too, seemed to finally be able to focus on the task at hand. There was no way around it. It was time to be brave and she was. 

“You too,” I replied and pressed a kiss to her cheek. We had said our more intimate goodbyes already, nothing else remained to be said or done. 

“I’ll bring her back in full working order,” the Doctor promised Helen and his older self stepped up as well, putting her arm around her shoulder.

“Likewise,” she promised, then cast a glance at her wife. “You be careful too!”

“Yes, Ma’am,” River winked. “And you be careful, too.” She gave both her spouses a stern look and the Doctors answered in unison:

“I shall do my very best!”

“Well then, let’s get going!” Kate announced and we made our way out of the underground base, back to the tracks where we went in opposite direction: The blonde Doctor and Kate led Helen and the Doctor’s companions in the direction of Camden Highstreet where the TARDIS would appear and our Doctor, River and I headed towards the Tower of London.

---

“River, can I ask you something?” We had been walking a while and my mind was going in repetitive circles.

“Of course,” she answered pleasantly with a curious glance over to me. “What’s on your mind?” The Doctor was a fair few paces ahead of us, impatient as he always was, so it felt like a private conversation which I was glad for.

“You have seen all the time loops we’ve been through… In how many of them did Helen and I work things out between us?” I asked.

“It depends on the length of the loop, of course when there is less time…” She answered, noncommittally, so I pressed on, I needed an answer.

“How many, River?”

“All of them, given time,” she answered at last and gave a soft smile. “Some people are just meant to be together…” There was a wistfulness to her voice, something that gave me pause and in the semi darkness of the underground, I noticed she looked tired, if not to say spent.

“And how are you?” I asked, realising I had been so wrapped up in myself and my own worries that I had never bothered to inquire about her well-being. 

”Hm?”

“I’ve been so preoccupied with all the things going on with me, I never stopped to think… This must be quite something for you,” I observed but she just shrugged and waved it off. 

“It’s complicated.” I followed her eyes that found the Doctor who was stalking ahead. We couldn’t be far from Tower Hill now. 

“To be in the same room as your wife and husband? I suppose so. That would be a fun night,” I tried humour but to no effect.

“I do envy you, Liv…” River hummed at last and I frowned, utterly dumbfounded.

“Me? Why? What could I possibly have for you to envy?” I questioned, bewildered. River Song had adventure, success and comfort. She was a beautiful woman that never seemed to age and had more spouses than one could shake a big stick at. People admired, respected and wanted to be like her. I couldn’t compete with her - not that I would try to - so her observation made little sense to me. She just gave a wistful smile as she explained:

“You and Helen are so in tune with each other. Yes, of course, the initial timing malfunction of it all, and yes, perhaps Helen needed a little bit longer to work things out for herself, but… in the end, when it matters… whenever you turn around, the other is right there,” she observed something I couldn’t deny. Regardless of the state of our relationship, Helen was always right there with me, steadfast and reliable. “And of course the Doctor is always there when I need them, they never refuse my call but… it’s not the same. We are always out of sync, always just that little bit too late or too early. And we run out of time. We’re always running out of time...” Her voice trailed off and slowly, I was beginning to realise the toll loving the Doctor took on her. She looked so tired then, a far cry from the woman with boundless energy and enthusiasm I knew. It felt like a rare glimpse behind a carefully constructed mask. 

“I feel like that right now…” I mused, kicking my feet. With nothing much to occupy my mind as we walked, it was all I could think about.

“Liv, this is not the end, I promise you,” River offered gently and I wanted to believe her. 

“Okay…” I nodded. “And what will you do when all this is over?” I knew she wouldn’t be able to stay with us and spend time with our Doctor, he couldn’t know her yet and we would have to alter his memory of these events somehow, but I’d seen how she was with the other Doctor. Their reunion had been heart-warming. Surely they could-

“I’m both too early and too late,” she retorted and while I didn’t understand what she meant by being too late, I had to believe her.

“I’m sorry,” I gave back but River didn’t answer, she picked up the pace as the Doctor had stopped up ahead, examining something to the right side of the tunnel.

“Here we are: Tower of London,” he announced once we caught up with him and I raised my eyebrows.

“Got to say this for UNIT: They don’t do things by halves.”

“This access tunnel should take us to an underground hanger,” River observed enthusiastically and assisted her husband in prising the door to the tunnel open. “We won’t have to venture above ground at all.” I noted how her confidence had returned and her optimism. She had put her walls back up and was focusing on the task at hand. I decided it was about time I did the same.

“Utilising the underground really was a good idea,” I commented as I followed them into the small, dark tunnel. The Doctor was using his sonic screwdriver as a torch.

“Providing it hasn’t been discovered and destroyed,” he added rather more glumly but defeatism wasn’t something that would do us any good right about now.

“Fingers crossed,” I hummed. 

“I think we might be alright,” River commented, stalking ahead with a torch of her own. She waved us along and at the end of the tunnel, it opened up into a large space. My eyes were immediately drawn to a skimmer that sat in the middle of the hanger. The professor seemed to have followed my gaze as she smiled: “Think you can fly that, Liv?”

"Oh I most certainly can,” I burst into a grin. I have no idea how UNIT had gotten their hands on that ship, but it was exactly the sort of thing I had done my training in. 

“Right, let’s get to work!” The Doctor clapped his hands together and we made for the glider. 

---

“Oh yeah, this’ll be fine,” I hummed, taking a seat in the cockpit. I scanned the controls, getting acquainted with them while the Doctor had immediately taken to making adjustments to the engines. Adjustments that he promised would not only get us through the force field but also guard our approach more effectively than on our way to and from Africa. 

River joined me in the cockpit not long after. 

“We will have to see about opening those shutters. For all we know, there is debris on top…” She mused, casting a glance out the front windscreen into the underground hanger. 

“I can do it from here,” I answered when I found the appropriate controls on the dashboard. The glider seemed well suited to a quick get away. It had everything we needed aboard, including weapons. If needed, we would be able to shoot our way through the Daleks…

“How are you getting on, Sweetie?” River called to the back of the small shuttle when a slamming sound announced the engine compartment being shut.

“Exceptionally well, we just need to wait for the signal. We are ready to go!” The Doctor called back, sounding awfully pleased with himself. He came to join us at the front of the plane as well, using a handkerchief to wipe his fingers clean of engine grease. Meanwhile, River checked the time on her Vortex Manipulator that was use for little else right about now.

“If our calculations are correct, you should be materialising in only a few minutes,” she revealed and with every passing minute after that, I felt oddly relieved. If memory served me right, my alternate self had been injured and eventually killed in an explosion just as we arrived so as I was safe and sound, it seemed that was not a fate I would suffer. It was reassuring, at least until a splitting pain ran through my skull. 

“AH!” I gasped and nearly knocked my head on the dashboard as I hunched over. It was as if all my nerve endings were firing at the same time, igniting an overwhelming storm of red hot pain. My head was spinning and River’s concerned voice seemed to come from very far away.

“Liv? Are you okay?” She demanded and her hands were on my shoulders easing my back in the pilot seat. 

“I don’t know-” I rasped as the pain eased for a moment like a wave, like the tide going out to sea again, but it returned just as quickly, and more painful than the first time around. I couldn’t see. I could think. 

“Liv?” The Doctor was there too. “Liv, it’ll be okay.” It was as if my mind was being split in two. Suddenly, my head was full of images, ideas, beliefs, things that I knew to be true contorted into vague shadows and new memories, things I was sure I had never lived, broke open existing structures. I realise I might not be the most stable, most level-headed person around, but I had always known my own mind. Until then.

“It’s like- It’s like I’ve got two sets of conflicting memories, it hurts, it really bloody hurts!” I whimpered as the tide went out again and I could make myself blink. Focus was elusive, but there were two figures hovering in my field of vision. 

”River, what’s happening?” The Doctor’s voice was strained and I didn’t need to see clearly to recognise he was in pain as well. Whatever was going on was affecting him too!

“What do you remember?” River was a whole lot calmer and I could feel her hand on my cheek, offering gentle assurance and she brushed my hair out of my eyes. 

“What?” I winced, willing my eyes to focus on her. That was not the response I had expected and in my dazed state, it took me far longer than it should have to realise that she knew what was happening to us.

“About the time you first came to see this future,” she explained calmly and the pain eased a little when I understood what the images were that were flashing before my eyes.

“I died,” I whispered, as I recalled leaning over my own body with Helen there, sobbing desperate tears. And then, an image of Helen smiling as she waved to us upon opening the TARDIS door. “No, I- I didn’t, I wasn’t there but I was-” My mind was a jumble. 

“This is important, Liv. I’m sorry this hurts but it is important. Tell me what you remember. Did you manage to get the TARDIS. Are you using it- did you use it - to influence the shield?” River tried to get me to focus. She grasped my face and made me look at her. She looked worried but also determined. 

“I don’t know- It hasn’t happened yet. Or is happening,” I answered as best as I could, trying to work out what I was seeing. All I could recall was the splintered image of Helen and the blonde Doctor inviting themselves into the TARDIS after we had arrived to discover this future. “God, River, I don’t know-” It was too much to comprehend and keep straight in my head. 

“Calm down, you can do this,” River told me. “Cause and effect, it’s all in flux. The memories won’t appear until they have happened,” she explained.

“Did you know this would happen?” The Doctor spoke up, visibly struggling as well. He was kneeling next to my seat, holding on to the armrest with his knuckles turning white from the tension. 

“I had theorised as much. But it’s all uncharted territory,” his wife answered ruefully and another flash of memories forced itself upon me. One in which I could remember Helen buckling over in pain as well.

“Helen. She was in pain- She is in pain, and the Doctor-” I grasped for his hand, almost to reassure myself of his present.

“Will be fine. Was fine,” he answered with a groan of discomfort.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry but this is our only hope,” River told the both of us and her face was a picture of regret. 

“This will work,” the Doctor agreed, as if to reassure himself as well. 

“It better be, River,” I panted as another flash of pain shot through my head and for a moment all I could see was Helen collapsing into her other self’s arms. “And Helen better be okay!” I growled.

“River, can I have a word?” The Doctor clambered to his feet beside me.

“Now, Sweetie?” River protested but her husband was insistent.

“Yes, now,” his voice was surprisingly sharp. “Clearly we won’t know what is happening for a little while. They’ve not even broached the subject of the bubble.” His mind was likely a little clearer than my own as he regained composure. The pain lessened again for me as well and I cradled my face in my hands, trying to catch my breath and preparing for the next onslaught that was sure to come. 

“Fine,” River answered. “Liv, we’ll be right back.”

I nodded and gave a wave, as I was more concerned with massaging my temples. I tried to focus and discern the memories from each other. Theoretically, I knew how to tell them apart, but practically, it was much harder as they all felt as real as each other. Off to the back of the glider, I could just about make out the Doctor and River talking in hushed voices. 

“River, what the hell are you thinking?” The Doctor hissed. He was angry, which is an emotion you rarely see him exhibit as plainly, but I imagined his composure was strained under the influence of what was happening to our minds.

“This is our best chance,” River gave back calmly but her husband remained confrontational:

“Your presence here is breaking everything apart!” He stated accusingly and I was finally beginning to properly put all the pieces together when she countered:

”That’s the idea. It’s the only way to unmake what has happened here. The destruction out there, do you want that to be permanent? This whole time-line needs to be erased, not just the loop,” she shot back in a whisper.

“You are breaking time apart,” he growled and the effects of which were all too present in my mind with a rush of fresh pain.

”Of course I am. It’s the only way to fit the pieces together again afterwards. Sometimes you have to cut away the surrounding tissue to make sure the cancer is truly gone.” Rationally, I understood what she was saying but in my compromised state I don’t think I quite grasped all that would mean. 

“And what if you break us too?” The Doctor snapped.

“You will be fine, you have always been fine, I have met so many future versions of you-” She tried to put him at ease but that was easier said than done. 

“And what about them? Liv and Helen? What if this breaks them!” He carried on and I could virtually hear her shaking her head. 

“It won’t,” she insisted but he remained steadfast:

“You can’t be sure.”

“I’ll make sure of it, okay?” River was growing more and more agitated herself and seemed eager to put an end to the matter. “Now, let me get back to Liv.”

“River, I can’t lose them!” The Doctor told her firmly and she tired to appease him once more.

“You won’t.”

“And they can’t lose each other,” he carried on and that was just that little step too far as she snapped: 

“Do you think I don’t know that?!”

While I was touched by their concern, I couldn’t maintain my focus any longer as new memories flashed before my eyes. Things were moving on. Had moved on. Will move on. They were getting to work.

“River-” I called as I knew we had to make a move as well. 

“Yes Liv?” It was the Doctor that answered and I fought a wave of nausea as things started happening.

“They’re doing it- They’ve done it- The forcefield is destabilising,” I pointed out, which I’m sure he would be realising right about now as well. I turned my attention to the flight controls and switched on the ignition. We were out of time. 

“And that’s what will keep them from being able to flick the switch. We have to go. It’s working,” River confirmed enthusiastically and hurried to join me at the front of the ship again. “How is everyone else?”

“Alive. For now,” the Doctor answered and he joined us as well.

“I’m opening the shutters,” I told them both and transmitted the remote control signal. There was a loud creaking sound outside. 

“Can you fly?” River asked, her hand coming to rest on my shoulder as I grabbed tight hold of the yoke while the engines warmed up. 

“Don’t really have much of a choice, do I?” I gave back, concentrating as best as I could and blocking out the pain. There was no time to argue now as the shutters retreated and rubble started tumbling down the slowly widening gap. 

“That’s a lot of debris…” The Doctor pointed out as huge chunks of rock started slamming to the ground not far from us. Not long and the roof would have retreated past where we were. There was no time to lose. I pulled the glider into the air. The hanger was plenty big to manoeuvre in with such a small craft but the falling debris was getting closer. “Looks like we will have to shoot our way through. Hold on!” I told the others and shot upward.

As instinct kicked in and adrenaline took over, my fracturing mind shrunk to a single focus. A sort of tunnel vision as I slammed the trigger and blast of energy ripped through the falling rubble. We had to get out of there in one piece. Otherwise our mission couldn’t fail before it had even really started. 

Only the whirling sound of the sonic screwdriver somewhere off to the right gave me indication of the Doctor’s helpful involvement. The retreating shutters stalled, halted and stopped more rubble from falling. The gap was plenty wide to get through. I fired at another piece of concrete and pulled the craft around, sideways past the chunks of stone, some of which slammed into the hull and bounced off without leaving too much damage from what I could tell. In a matter of seconds, we shot out of the underground bunker and into the open sky above London.

I gave a joyful laugh of relief and suddenly, the pain returned, the worst wave yet, taking my sight and moments later, my consciousness.

---

“How long do you think we will be asleep for?” Bron asked nervously, fidgeting as I tried to attach the electrodes with which the computer would be monitoring our well-being while we were asleep.

“Until we have found something,” I told him patiently and eased him backwards to lie down in the cryo pod. We had been preparing for this moment for months and yet, it seemed the young comms-tech was still not ready. I suppose it was in his nature. He was the insecure sort and no amount of preparation could undo that. 

“And what if we don’t? What if we never find anything?” He jabbered on.

“Then I suppose we will drift for eternity,” I hummed in response, struggling to keep my sarcasm in check. It was Vi that interjected more sharply.

“We will drift until the systems reach their limit which will happen eventually,” she retorted impatiently as she was waiting her turn. “We will wake up.”

“Unless something goes wrong…”  Bron started again and this time, I interrupted:

“If there is an issue with the systems, we will also get woken up,” I told him. “See you on the other side, Bron,” I gave him an encouraging smile and started the stasis process before he could get himself into more of a tizz. It was for the best.

“I don’t know why he has to come along,” Vi groaned, annoyed, though I suppose the fact that her snarkiness was reaching new heights had something to do with her trying to mask her own insecurities. I didn’t respond. I simply hooked her up to the systems as she was visibly eager to get on with it. 

“Have a good sleep, Vi,” I said as she lay down. “Sweet dreams.”

“It’s not sleep, it’s stasis,” she huffed. “And you don’t dream in cryo!” The lid of the pod slid shut and she closed her eyes, drifting into unconsciousness.

“Can we just enjoy the peace and quiet for a moment?” Dal joked as the cryo pod retreated, taking Vi with it. It was just the two of us now. 

“You’re next, Captain,” I told him, trying my best to keep my own nerves in check. “How is the flight path looking?” We walked to the third pod.

“The autopilot is set, sending us into the far reaches of uncharted space in less than ten minutes. Mission control will activate it as soon as we’re all asleep,” he explained as I gathered together the electrodes.

“Status report Orpheus,” a voice sounded across the intercom and we both looked up.

“This is the Captain speaking. Kruger and Kell are in stasis, I’m about to head to sleep myself,” Dal reported.

“I will be putting the captain into cryo, then start the auto launch sequence on myself,” I added as I attached electrodes to Dal’s temples and he gave me a smile as he perched on the side of his cryo pod.

“Understood. Carry on,” came the confirmation across the intercom. “We will be monitoring your progress and be ready to launch.”

“See you there, Liv,” Dal gave me an encouraging smile as he lay down.

“See you then,” I smiled, even though I couldn’t be sure if there was another side, how long it would take or if my body would even be able to be revived, but I held out hope. I engaged the controls on the pod and Dal’s features relaxed as his body surrendered to the stasis.

“Right then… here goes nothing…” I mumbled and made for the final pod, then spoke up: “Going into stasis now, Mission Control.” The system was easy and intuitive, I could do the preparations myself and set it going without needing outside assistance. All the systems were set up like this. In the depth of space, we wouldn’t have back up either. 

“Understood. Godspeed Orpheus,” the response sounded just as I hit the button to engage the system. I lay down and closed my eyes for the next nine-hundred years.

---

“What just happened?” I mumbled, blinking against bright light above when I came to. I felt as though I had been hit by a bus. The splitting headache remained just as bad. I was flat on my back in the glider and light was streaming in from the windscreen as we were climbing higher and higher.

“You lost consciousness,” the Doctor said, leaning over me. “The side effects of the temporal fall-out are much worse than anticipated.” He helped me sit up slowly.“Maybe it’ll get better once we’re out of the bubble…”

“Nearly there,” River announced from the pilot’s seat. “I would like one of you to take over. Up is fine but evading the Daleks, not sure my skills stretch to that.” 

“Just get us out of the force field,” the Doctor instructed, his voice strained, and I felt another shot of pain too.

“Oh God-” I heaved, putting my head between my legs, wishing the spinning would finally stop.

“Liv, try to stay with us,” River called from the front.

“I am, I am, I just-” I winced. “It’s just so disorienting, whenever I so much as blink I’m right there.” And I really was, as I was looking around, it wasn’t the glider I saw, it was the TARDIS and everything I presumed was going on far below us on the surface of the planet. I could see everything my other self was experiencing.

“It should get better in a minute, they’re about to leave-” The Doctor tried to reassure me, casting a glance out of the windscreen.

He was right. I could see it too. And then I was back in the TARDIS.

“The Daleks are coming!” Kate stuck her head into the TARDIS and it was as if I was really there. I looked from her to the Doctor - two Doctors - the blonde one and our Doctor from the past and then to the two Helens side by side who I could only tell apart by the clothes they were wearing and the way one of them was far less measured with the affection she regarded me with. 

“Fingers crossed the others are getting a move on. This place is not the full shilling…” the blonde Doctor observed looking around the TARDIS. “Still safer than anywhere else though and we must continue the run interference.”

“How will we know if we’re successful?” The other Doctor frowned and his future self answered:

“I guess we will have to wait and see. We likely won’t know at all…”

“Helen, what’s wrong?” I heard myself saying as I’d noticed her eyes swimming with tears.

“Nothing it’s just-” She started and temporal dissonance shot through me and - I presume - through her and the Doctors too as we all winced in pain. Time was becoming increasingly unstable. 

“What?” I asked regardless, worried by her distressed state. I don’t know how to best explain the turmoil of emotions and the strange feeling of being disconnected from them all the same. There, then, I’d already been in love with her - of course I had - but my feelings lay buried and while I was concerned for her, it wasn’t the same visceral sensation I was also experiencing up in the shuttle craft. It was a terrifying push and pull and every version of me struggled under the burden. And reality around us struggled under the paradoxical nature of it all.

And then Helen, my Helen, said something that shook me to the very core, more painful than any of the temporal side-effects of our actions. She had voiced something that thus far I hadn’t fully figured out:

“If this works, if we succeed- None of this will have happened, you and me, we will still just be-” Helen looked to her other self who remained a quiet, confused but visibly pained observer. I have no idea to what extent those versions of us would have become aware of our experiences, but even if they didn’t at all, she was about to find out. “I love you,” Helen told my other self through tears and I felt like she was talking to me. “You must know that. Even then I loved you. I just couldn’t show it, not yet. Please give me time. Please don’t give up hope. I don’t want to lose this, not when I only just-”

My eyes widened in shock. Suddenly, I was in control of my senses again, as we broke past the forcefield into open space. The pain stopped and I was able to think clearly again. 

“River, what will happen to our memories? Will everything just be wiped away?!” I exclaimed when I realised what our success would entail.

[chlocxli]

Let me get my head aligned Help my life be worth your while

December 27th, 2022 8:38am

The first thing Chloe thinks is it’s way too damn early for the phone to be ringing already. After the past two days spent in the Otherrealm, she’d give anything to sleep for twenty-four hours straight, but the painful sound of her default ringtone vibrates across her bedside table, filling the room with this piercing tone that she can’t ignore. Especially as she grumbles awake, fumbling for the phone from where her face is buried in the pillow. 

Frankly, she’d let it go to voicemail, but with the anxiety that the world could fall apart again at any moment, she’d rather just answer and know if someone else was already on the precipice of death or if this was Connor having a crisis over Esme having a crisis, or whatever other typical Tuesday chaos could erupt from their little Midnight Underground chaos. 

“Hello,” She greets, groggily, voice still hoarse and tired from sleep. 

“LiLi! Are you still asleep?” 

Gregory Li’s voice floats through the receiver and Chloe groans. She had completely forgotten she agreed to call them after she got back from her... camping trip for the holiday. Even as Awares, Chloe didn’t feel like telling her parents she was going to be in a dangerous, magical fae realm with her best friend, the werewolf, and his wife the fae for Christmas. Saying she was going camping and would be without service until the evening of the 26th seemed like a safer bet. 

Of course, between her evening with Nora, and the absolute stress of the whole Poelanran, it had slipped her mind to call her parents and wish them a Merry Christmas, and so now she was being woken up at— she pulls the phone away from her ear to check the time —8:30 am, apparently, to chat instead. 

“Baba, time difference, remember? It’s only 8:30 here.” 

“And, the early bird catches the worm.” 

“Yes, well, the early bird works the evening shift at a Casino, yeah?”

There’s a sound of something like dismissal over the line, lighthearted, but she knew this was not the last time she would get a call in the early hours of the morning while her Dad could not conceptualize timezones well enough to understand that the afternoon for him was basically sunrise for her.

“Aye, well LiLi, I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t for the fact that you forgot to call us after your Christmas camping trip. How was that? It was your friend’s birthday, right? What’s his name again, Conall?”

“Connor, Baba. But, yeah, his birthday is on Christmas day.”

“Well, that must be difficult, what with Christmas. How does he manage that?”

“Connor doesn’t really celebrate Christmas. He celebrates Solstice, you know? Like Grammy and I did.” 

Gregory was a good man at heart. Born and raised by May Li, he watched her descent into the obsession with her gift. His Father left at some point, moving to Portland, Maine when all the sights his Mother would claim to see became too much. He watched the way it destroyed his Mother from the inside out despite the face she tried to put on to keep all his worries at bay. He watched as she lost herself into journal after journal, sometimes in lieu of housework or school functions. 

In their small town of Camden, news travelled fast of her odd behavior and visions. Many people thought it to be the Devil that had touched his family, others viewed her as a mentally ill woman, and a poor pitiful Son trying to hold his two person family together. Gregory knew she was no liar and no crazy in terms of what she saw, but he also knew that all of her investment into her gift was driving her mad and sending her into isolation. 

When Chloe was born, it immediately became an uphill battle. Anna Mei, his wife, and himself did not want Chloe to be given the sight. Anna had not even grown up surrounded by the world he had. She believed there could be an element of the Devil involved in it all, and she didn’t want that touch her Daughter. 

But, Gregory knew more truth than her. Chloe would see things, their family cursed by Cicerone to allow those atrocities to be witnessed only to be strung up and called a witch or a freak by the people around them. He thought by pushing his Mother to leave Chloe be, he was doing her a service. The gift could end with her, and Chloe could grow up a normal girl. 

But, his Mother had all be insisted. Assured him that Chloe would be different. That she had seen it, she was destined to be a powerful Seer like May’s own Great Grandmother.

And, despite himself, he acquiesced with the caveat that he would not support it. If May were to do this, Chloe would be her responsibility. 

That he had followed through on. His Mother died, unexpectedly, when Chloe was only twelve. Still untrained and uncontrolled her visions, unaware of much of her family history. History that Gregory refused to impart. She had been given some of the journals, with the exception of his Great Grandmother’s which he feared would tell her too much of Ruì’s story. Plant ideas in her head that she could be something more than she was. 

All he wanted was to protect his daughter.

“Ah, well, I suppose that works in his favor, then. Didn’t realize he was so similar to you, LiLi. Is he a Seer, too then?”

She can hear the switch in his voice. It’s less lively than before. He’s already upset, and they hadn’t even discussed anything worth being upset about yet other than Solstice. “No, Baba, he’s not. Like I mentioned, there’s a lot of different kinds of people here. I promise, there are more than just Oracles in the world.” She tries to make it sound like a joke, but it doesn’t quite land the way she wants it to.

“Right.” 

Great. This was going well. 

“I really think you’d like Connor, Baba. He’s smart. He has an English Degree, and got into UCLA even though he couldn’t go. And, we were talking about doing some furniture flipping for my new apartment. I thought maybe you could help us with steps and some history stuff.”

There’s silence on the other end for a bit, and Chloe squeezes her eyes shut, just waiting for this all to implode. “He’s a part of your little club?” 

That was one way to refer to the Midnight Underground. 

“Yes, Baba, he is. But, it’s not that big of a deal. He’s not all evil like you seem to think everyone in this city is. He’s my friend, and a very good person. I promise you would like him.”

She winces as the words leave her mouth, shuffling so she’s sitting up in bed now. The Underground was always a fight strater between the two of them. Chloe had never been one to be particularly good at leaving well enough alone. And when it came to Connor, she couldn’t help but defend him. Even if there was a possibility that it was going to turn this conversation into a fight.

“Chloe,” The Given Name. Now Chloe knew this was going to turn into a fight, “I’ve told you what your Mother and I think about you being there. I don’t understand why you don’t just come home. Anna doesn’t even know how you can stand a city like Vegas. Don’t you miss New England? Maine?”

He had watched his Daughter grow up a Seer after losing his Mother. Lost in the world, seeing things just like May. He watched her become the town pariah in a sense, the girl who saw things. The one just like her Grandmother. Possesed. Demonic. Ill. Everything he had tried to protect her from had just come right back around. 

And then her Best Friend died, and she hollowed. The once bright, bubbly girl seemed to collapse in on herself like a supernova, leaving a black hole where his Daughter used to be. When she finally graduated, she was gone within two weeks. Phone calls were inconsistent, and here whereabouts were almost never clear for years. It was like he was grasping desperately at the shell of the girl he had raised as he tried as much as he could to get her back. 

Like some sick, twisted jab from his Great Grandmother, he remembers the day she called from Vegas so clearly. It was the first time he had heard so much life in her voice in years. She sounded happy. And, he felt like a horrible Father for dreading it. But, he knew that Vegas had been the beginning of the end for their family. Proud, powerful Seers had ended when Ruì left. After everything she had seen, she thought it better to be forsaken by the God she had once worshiped then to be a part of that world still. She had moved her family so far from the very place his Daughter had landed and felt she had some ‘connection’ to. She didn’t know how right she was, and certainly didn’t have the heart to tell his Daughter the truth. Because, if she knew the truth, how would she react? 

It would be anger. She was always angry that he hadn’t helped her more. That he had left her on her own. But, he was just doing what he knew to be right. What Ruì knew to be right, too. May had imparted more than enough on her, what Chloe did with it from there had always and was always going to be her business.

So, he played dumb. He pretended like he didn’t know the significance of Vegas or Chloe’s connection to the city. He could only hope that she would never find herself in the middle of it all. That he had kept her in the dark enough that her power would not be enough to draw attention. 

“Dad,” Chloe cuts in to his thoughts, “I like it here. I do. I fit in, I have friends and a life here. I own my own apartment now, even. I’m doing well. Can’t you just be happy for me?”

“You know what I think of all of that, Chloe.” 

She scoffs. “You don’t leave much to the imagination. You know, you’re no better than anyone else in Camden, right?” 

“And, what is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like, Dad. You sat there telling me that people would hate me for my visions. You watched them treat me like a freak, and told me that was the way things were. That you loved me, but that was just how it was going to be. I’m important here. I’ve helped save peoples lives. And, you continue to act like I’m doing something wrong being a part of something where I’m treated good and loved. Why?” 

“LiLi, what happens when they don’t like what you see? Or you’re wrong?” 

Well, from her last vision? The world would likely be destroyed.

“Are they still going to love you when people die on your watch,” Gregory continues, “No. They’ll turn on you. They’ll hurt you, just like everyone else would. You may think you fit in there and that you belong, but you don’t. You’re just a kid.”

“I am twenty-six. Twenty-six. I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions, and I am choosing to stay here. You’re wrong, okay? You’re just wrong.”

“I love you. And, I am trying to protect you, Chloe.” 

She swings around in the bed, so she’s sitting up, feet hitting the floor to ground her. Chloe knows where her Father’s heart is, but she also knows how incredibly misguided and unfair he’s being. He believes he knows everything, but he’s not a Seer. He’s not the family Oracle. He doesn’t understand all that she’s facing.

“I don’t need you to protect me! If you can even call it that. All my life, all you’ve ever done is try to keep me in the dark. Why, Dad? Not for me. It’s because it made you uncomfortable. You tried to do it to Grandma, and now you’re trying to do it to me, too. Why? What is so wrong with me? Do you think I’m a freak, too? Possessed? I know Mama does, but do you?”

Silence falls over the line again, and Chloe can hear the muffled sounds of shuffling and then muttering. Clearly she had struck some sort of nerve. Or, better yet, maybe she had hit the nail on the head. Maybe she had finally cracked the case, and had learned the truth about the fact that her Father saw her as nothing more than a freak.

“Chloe, if you think I have any goal other than to look at for you, you are sorely mistaken. I saw first hand what visions did to your Grandmother, and heard stories about what they did to her Mother before her. And her Mother before her. I know more about this than you do. You were a little girl.” 

“Then why didn’t you tell me anything? Huh? Do you not trust me? If you know so much more than me, why am I trying to scrape together bits and pieces of my family history by myself? If this was really about love and protection, then you’d give me the education I need to protect myself.” That’s not what this was about it. It was about fear. Chloe just wishes she could figure out where that fear was coming from. “Am I just not good enough for you, or something? What is it, Dad?”

“We’re not getting into this again. Chloe, I love you. Your Mama loves you. Whether you chose to believe it or not, all we want for you is the best.”

Chloe lets her head fall against her hand, the heel of her palm pressed against her temple. It’s like this every time, a never ending cycle of this fight where Chloe asks for what she believes to be simple: Answers. And, everytime, she’s shut down. Told that she’s loved, and that her family only wants what’s best. Even if they won’t listen to her about what she believes is best.

“Baba, I gotta go, okay? I need to meet a friend for Breakfast.” 

“Okay, LiLi. I love you, alright? Call again soon?” 

“Love you too. Yeah. I’ll call.” 

The line disconnects, and Chloe tosses her phone into the pile of sheets on her bed, frustrated groan falling past her lips as she drops her head into her hands, willing away the small headache that’s formering at her temples. She’ll never understand her Father’s insistence that she’s not capable handling this. That he, a normal person with no sight, knows more about what she’s facing than her. It’s always been clear to her that she’s on her own in all of this. She has been since she was a teenager. All she can hope for is that Lilith finds something that gives her the explanation her parents refuse to.