#POPPET YOU LEFT HER ALL ALONE SHE CALLED YOU THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE

[coconut530]

WHAHAHAHHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTT!?!

[pinkteapotwriting]

Hey could you please do a dom remus, dom james and sub Fem!reader, with pet play and the use of kitty instead of "daddy".

Scenario: remus is dating the reader but james likes the reader to and james catches them fkn and he ask to join.

Btw i love your content so much! Pls never stop.

This was oddly specific but I also loved it??? Thanks for all of your patience love xXx

James Potter x Fem!reader x Remus Lupin

Warning : Sub!reader, Unprotected sex, Voyerism, Praise kink, teensy innocense kink, i don’t remember if I put degradation, pet play, pet names

Word count : 1730

---

James was cocky, some would consider him arrogant.

You however, found it enticing.

You’re just kind of self destructive that way, I suppose.

Remus was different from James, he was quiet and analytical. When he did have something to say it left a mark. Remus had you memorized, he knew every trigger, every touch, and every desire in that pretty little head of yours and both of you always enjoyed his intuition.

As James flew across his broom stick, dodging every bludger with ease, Remus’s intuition was telling him that you were extremely horny. You were on the best seat in the house, Remus’s lap and every time James would catch the quaffle in his very capable hands, you’d clench your thighs a little. Remus placed his lips at the shell of your ear, his hot breath and tone of voice making you shiver.

“When were you going to tell me about your little crush, poppet?”

“I don’t-”

“Don’t lie to me, you know that gets you punished. Besides, I can feel how needy my girl is, don’t you want me to take care of that for you?”

“Yes please.”

“Alright, if we leave now we should have enough time before everyone gets back, maybe even longer cause it looks like Gryffindor is going to win so there’ll be a party in the common room tonight. We’d have the dorm to ourselves Puppy, how does that sound?”

“Please Remmy, I want it so bad. I want you so bad.”

“Let’s go, we’ve wasted enough time now.”

---

James’ eager eyes scanned the room for his favourite girl, but you were nowhere to be seen. The euphoria of winning had worn off, and all he could do was politely brush people off as he searched. He felt bad that he felt this way, but he couldn’t exactly help feeling it anyhow.

To avoid all the bothersome people he decided to just call it a night and dream of the girl he couldn’t have.

Remus’s girl.

He trudged up the stairs, reminiscing of the time you placed your hand on his shoulder, he didn’t know he was such a fan of physical touch until you showed him. None of the marauders were really cuddly, but you seemed to thrive off of it and he was happy to oblige. At least that was something.

He was so lost in his own thoughts, but something he heard stopped him from the routine habit of opening the door without question. He recognized the cute pitch your voice took, but this time you were moaning, a lot.

And he would have left you alone but he heard his name, so he figured he had a right to listen, right?

“Please Remmy, want your fingers.”

“You don’t want my fingers, you want James’ fingers.”

“I- I want both- still like you too.”

“Greedy girl, one cock isn’t enough for you huh?”

“He’s so pretty, want him so bad”

“Poor dear, James isn’t here so it looks like my girl can’t get what she wants.”

James knew he was confident, but he didn’t realize he was confident enough to burst through the door, not even phased by your naked figure rutting against Remus’s thigh.

“Nice of you to join us James, I was hoping you’d overhear.”

“Yeah? Then I’m glad I did.”

“Puppy, why don’t you greet our guest the way I taught you, hmm?”

“Okay kitty.”

You climbed off of Remus to settle in front of James on your knees.

“She calls you kitty?”

“It’s like her version of Daddy, I find it endearing.”

“It’s cute” he squats down to fondle the pendant on the collar you were wearing. He’d never seen you wear anything like that before. It read the property of R.L.. “So, you’re Remus’s puppy huh?”

“Yes sir.”

“Would you mind being my puppy for a bit?”

“No sir, wanna be your puppy for more than a bit.”

He patted your head and rose to his full height.

“Good girl, what’s your safe word?”

“Red, or I can snap.”

“Why would you snap?”

“In case your cock was in my mouth sir.”

“You should let her suck your cock first, she takes it well.”

It took a lot for you to not clench your thighs together. James studied your eager face and smirked at your instant compliance.

“Alright Pup, get to it. Let’s see if Remus knows what he’s talking about.”

All James wanted to do was eat you out until you couldn’t cum anymore, but he had never met someone so submissive before. It was fun to test the waters, and he would be sure to reward you later. You greedily swallowed his cock, his length wouldn’t deter you, since you were already used to Remus. James’ moans and soft grunts were feeding you into moving at a faster pace. You didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your face, but James did.

“Remus, you certainly do know what you’re talking about. Looks like you’ve trained her well. Are there any boundaries you have that I should know?”

“What’s mine is yours, just try not to mark her up too much.”

“That’s a shame, she’d be a pretty little thing to mark up, but she is yours. I can respect that.”

You were whining now while they talked as if you weren’t even there. Looks like they both knew how to direct conversation to make you impossibly needy, oh well.

James grabbed your hair to pull you off of him.

“Why don’t we show kitty how quick I can make you cum? I heard you wanted my fingers.”

“Please, want them so bad.”

“You also said I’m pretty.”

“You are pretty Jamie, wanna kiss.”

He helped you to your feet and cupped the side of your face gently.

Kissing James Potter was much different than kissing Remus. Remus could tease you endlessly about how desperate you were, but his kiss destroyed all pretenses. Remus was fire. James wasn’t cold, but it filled you with a different kind of warmth. His lips were soft, a complete juxtaposition to the way he was holding you. When he pulled away you sighed in contentment.

“Okay, get your ass on the bed.”

Well, his words were less put together than his lips were. But his command didn’t have you complaining.

You climbed on the bed in front of Remus as he enjoyed the show from the head board. You made sure to arch your back the way Remus liked, your cunt on full display. You figured James liked it too considering the way he muttered fuck under his breath as he squeezed your ass. Remus loved the anticipation dripping from your face.

“My pretty puppy, you look ansty. Are you sure you can handle James fingers. I think it might be too much for you.”

“No Kitty, I can take it please.”

“It’s not me you should be asking.”

“Remus she’s been such a good girl don’t tease her. Don’t worry baby, if you’re good you can cum as much as you want, maybe more.”

You looked at Remus with wide eyes, while he barked a laugh.

“Don’t look at me like that pup, you wanted this now you’re gonna take it.”

You wanted to jolt with the electricity that flew when James finally touched your clit, but Remus had trained you better than that, so you stayed planted only letting out a quiet whimper.

“Yeah Y/N, Kitty says you’ve got to take it.”

With that he pushed a finger inside your cunt while rubbing quick little circles with his thumb.

“You’re so wet baby” He was interrupted by your moaning when he pushed a second finger inside. “Taking my fingers so well. I want you to cum before I give you my cock, think you can manage that?”

“Oh she’ll just have to, besides, she loves being a little cum bunny, don’t you darling?”

“Love it so much Kitty, wanna be good, please let me.”

“Nothing is stopping you, go ahead and make a mess on Jamie's fingers.”

Your mouth fell open as James worked you through your orgasm, once he pulled out you were able to catch your breath again. He flipped you on your back and you were smiling at an upside down Remus.

“Fuck you’re precious aren’t you?” He bent down to give you an upside down kiss and grinned at you in your giggly state “James, you better hurry up and fuck her or else I’m kicking you out and I will.”

James took a glance at your now furrowed eyebrows.

“You’re confusing her Remus. Oh Bunny, Kitty was just teasing. Is your brain getting a little fuzzy?”

“A little Jamie, don’t want you to go. Can you please fuck me now?”

“Well since you asked so nicely.”

He pushed in inch by inch and he had this curve that rubbed perfectly against your walls.

“James”

He fulfilled your request with much happiness, snapping his hips into your like that’s all he was meant to do. You went to grip along his back, but he pinned your hands above your head, continuing his ruthless pace.

“Sorry Bunny, if I can’t mark you, you don’t get to mark me, understood?”

You nodded pitifully, barely even able to do that. You were completely absorbed in the pleasure James was giving you. You didn’t even realize you had squeezed your eyes shut until James reprimanded you.

“I can feel your thighs shaking love, keep your eyes on Remus. I want your kitty to watch your face as you fall apart on my cock.”

“Kitty”

“What is it, puppy?”

“Wanna cum.”

“Go ahead and cum pretty girl, you’ve earned it.”

James was quick to stimulate your clit with his thumb again and just when you arched your back at the arrival of your orgasm James was filling you with his own. Slowing down significantly as he worked you both through the remnants of your climax he made sure to capture your lips on his own.

“James, I think you called me Kitty more than Y/N did.”

You frowned at that.

“You don’t need to be jealous Jamie, you can be my kitty too.”

“Really?”

Remus swept some of the hair out of your face, admiring your fucked out expression.

“Really.”

It was only fair that someone as spectacular as you got to be shared.

---

@sunny-bunnny @quindolyn @midnightgremlin @weasleyposts @bluemoonyblurbs @emmaev @agalandhermarvelobsession

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

A Reading: Part 8 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Witch Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: mentions of death/blood/violence, witchcraft,

Word Count: 2.8k

Another plot chapter babes :)

You'd followed him into the house, shutting the door behind you. There was a weird sense of deja-vu that set over you as you walked through it. You saw books everywhere, plants hanging off the walls, taxidermy lining the shelves, and you thought you even heard the jingle of a bell before the sound of scurrying feet. It reminded you of your own little caravan, except bigger. He led you into a kitchen, and there, sitting at the table reading a book and drinking tea, was an older woman.

If you couldn't tell by the simple sight of her, the fact that the spoon was stirring by itself was a dead giveaway that she was the witch. She looked up from her book, and the spoon stopped. You froze when her eyes landed on you. She felt familiar, but you couldn't place it. You expected something, some sort of burst of energy that your crystal would block. But nothing came. Instead, she smiled and motioned to the chair at her right side. It pulled out by itself, and she said,

"Hello, dear. Sit. I believe we have some things to discuss." And you could already feel your anxiety growing. She had telekinesis, like you did. It wasn't a rare talent in a witch, but it was one that usually gave you an advantage. It seemed, for now, you'd have to surrender the idea of having any advantages over the older woman. The man had taken the chair opposite of you, and you sat down slowly. "Tea?" She asked, and you politely nodded. You watched as the teapot and two cups floated over. One was placed in front of the old man, and one in front of you. The tea was poured into both cups from the same teapot, so the idea of her poisoning you was quickly discarded. A small bowl of sugar, a small pitcher of milk, and two spoons floated over as well. She let you make your tea as you liked, with the old man taking it black. You, keeping your wits about, did the same. You stared between the two of them, before you said,

"Um," You didn't know where to begin. You knew that she knew of you, but you hadn't expected her to expect you. It took you a moment to think about the situation, thinking if anything had been done on purpose. Maybe she just had a vision, you thought. Either way, you thought it was as good of a way to start as any. "How did you know I was coming?" You asked, and she smiled around her cup before she placed it back on the table.

"Figured you were a smart girl." She said, gesturing to the paper in your hands. "Any witch worth her salt knows to check." She finished, and you gave her a small smile. So, she'd called me on purpose, you thought. Interesting. It seems it might've been a test, but you weren't going to ask that much. Instead, your eyes flicked to the man across from you. He didn't seem to be like the pair of you, or to be supernatural at all. While it wasn't forbidden to do magic in front of regular people, it wasn't entirely encouraged. "Oh, this is Mr. Emerson. The grandfather of the boys your vampires are trying to turn." And you couldn't stop yourself from gulping. Oh, this was awkward. Despite that introduction, the man in front of you still seemed warm. The older woman seemed to realize then that she hadn't introduced herself. "Oh, dear, and I'm Mrs. Johnson." She finished, and you stuttered as you gave her your name.

"They're- they're not my vampires. I met them a couple of days ago and-" But she was raising a hand. Silencing you. The second she did, it hit you. Why you thought she felt familiar. You remembered your dream, the night before. The not-dream. The astral projection. The poppets, candles, sigils. Everything. if you hadn't remembered, you would've thought to be irked. You clamped your mouth shut as she said,

"I know, dear. You were just passing through, right? Well, you caught their attention and you- Well, you changed things. Made them a little more complicated." She said, stirring her tea with her hand this time. You could guess how she meant. While witches usually left eachothers territory alone, it wasn't encouraged to hurt one another. Killing another witch? Highly frowned upon. Not only was it bad luck, but witches were a dying race anyways. You expected her to continue, but Mr. Emerson did instead,

"I've been friends with Mrs. Johnson for a very long time. She's helped me with all kinds of hunts." You froze at the words, but Grandpa quickly shook his hands. "Vampire hunts. Retired a few years back." He specified, before continuing. His smile made you relax, and you sipped the tea just after he did. "You see, you happened to come to Santa Carla at a very bad time." Hell, did you already know that. Really, you were starting to think that you should've gone just a town up the map. Grandpa folded his hands, leaning forward. "I'd be able to spot a vampire blind-folded in the dark, so imagine my surprise when my grandson comes home a half." He said, gesturing with one hand. You nodded. You could imagine his distress. "Now, obviously, we can't have him turning. We already know who the head is and we just need to draw him out. Then, we can kill him and everything will be done." He said, holding out his hands and smiling like it was a foolproof plan. With the protection on his grandsons, maybe it was. It explained why the boys hadn't slaughtered them. A couple of teens, a couple of halves, and a retired hunter? Sure, they had the numbers, but it would've been sheer dumb luck if there was no outside interference. You looked between the two of them.

"So, what do you want from me?" You asked. You guessed they wouldn't have brought you here for nothing. And, since they hadn't tried to kill you yet, you thought they were going to ask you to do whatever it was first. Mr. Emerson looked at you, at Mrs. Johnson, and then back as he let out a small laugh. Mrs. Johnson was pressing her lips together, suppressing a smile. 

"Well, plain and simple? We want you to back off. Your protections are leveling out the playing field, so to say, and we can't have that." Mr. Emerson said, and you frowned then. So, they were calling for a cease fire. At least, from you. They noticed your silence, and Mr. Emerson quickly jumped back in to fill it. "Now, we know you really had nothing to do with this. You just got into town, and you probably haven't even met my grandson. They may have employed you, but you're not at fault." He said, waving his hands towards you. "No harm will come to you. From us or them. Mrs. Johnson will make sure of that." You glanced at Mrs. Johnson, and she gave you a nod. They must've guessed that you'd had your hands tied. Originally, you had. "And once the head is dead? Well, you can pack up and be on your way." He finished, and you were silent for another moment. Your eyes left them and went to the cup of tea in front of you.

It was a good offer. A really good offer. Step back and do nothing? And get protection, freedom, and the ability to leave Santa Carla in return? Hell of a good deal. Still, you didn't jump on it like they expected you to. You didn't jump on it like you expected yourself to. You thought of the boys, of their deaths. They'd die just to draw out the head, you thought. It wasn't fair. For all four of them to die just for that. You hadn't seen their deaths, but, looking into the cup, you practically could. It wouldn't be pleasant for any of them. They'd all probably go down kicking and screaming. Screaming for you to come save them. You gulped, looking away from the tea to glance between the two elders.

"No." You said. It was definitive and sounded more sure than you felt. You hadn't known the boys for long, but that didn't mean you wouldn't keep your word. You weren't going to back on what you'd told Dwayne. You remembered the relief you'd seen on his face, the same relief you'd seen on Markos. You remembered Paul's smile, and David's words. Even if he was as cuddly as a cactus at the best of times, he didn't want you dead. You decided to let that mean more than it probably did. 

"Dear, you don't know what you're-" Mrs. Johnson had reached for your hand, laid her warm fingers on top of your own. You pulled your hand back. They felt too warm, like they were going to scorch your skin. You'd grown too used to the feeling of cold flesh. There was a threat edging her voice, but one that made you harden. You were tired. Tired of being scared and of people assuming that you were incapable of protecting yourself. Defending yourself. It was true that you were petrified, that you didn't really know how to get yourself out of this situation. You weren't the boys, you weren't David. Truthfully, you thought it should be him in your place. But it wasn't. That didn't mean you couldn't act like him. Couldn't think like him.

You went over what they'd already told you in the seconds the words left her mouth. Mr. Emerson had said you'd levelled out the playing field. Really, you'd taken away the Emerson's advantage. If either side had a witch, then the outcome was obviously in the boys' favor. Not to mention, she said you'd changed things. You thought about how she'd blocked you from being able to do your readings, from being able to glance into the future. Maybe...

"Kill me and my spells become permanent. That's what a smart witch would do, right?" You interrupted, and tilted your head at Mrs. Johnson. "Making the playing field even, like you said." You gestured to the man across from you. You looked down at your cup. It was easier to be confident when you were looking at your own reflection. You thought of how David talked, how he acted. Like he was one step ahead and like he owned the room. You needed more of a power shift, so you continued. "My friends might not be with me, but if I'm not at the end of the street by sunrise, they go to their sire. Even playing field and five vampires. Sounds like a problem." You paused, sipping your tea. You looked up. Neither of them seemed pleased, and Mrs. Johnson went as far as narrowing her eyes. You didn't know if she could read minds, but, if she did, she'd see that you weren't bluffing. Neither of them spoke. You had them in a corner, and they'd hoped you wouldn't notice. Unfortunately, you had. "Now, I'm not a vampire expert, but I'm guessing the territory situation isn't that different from a witch's. So, best case scenario, this coven dies and...what?" You said, looking between them. Again, you were met with more silence. And it was exhilarating. They looked between eachother. It was clear they hadn't thought that far ahead. They were just trying to keep Michael from turning. "New coven moves in? Big hot spot, Santa Carla. Attracts lots of tourists. Will probably attract a lot of rival covens too." Now, you knew you weren't heeding David's warning. It was clear they were getting tired of your yapping, but you knew, on some level, the boys might've been impressed. Especially David.

"What are you getting at?" Mr. Emerson snipped, and you had to suppress a smirk. You shook your head.

"A retired hunter, a couple of hunter wannabes, and a witch." You held up a finger for each thing you listed off. "The first thing the new covens will do is try to clean house, and you and your family won't last the summer." You said flatly. 

It was true. You'd read it in your ancestors journal. Vampires only respected other vampires, and you were sure there'd be plenty trying to stake a claim on a spot like Santa Carla. Tourists, its crime rate, and general reputation? It was a dream come true. And if they killed the last coven, their names would be on missing posters before the Emerson's could even celebrate. The only thing preventing that was the current coven holding onto the territory.

Grandpa shook his head, letting out a laugh. He shook a finger at you, but Mrs. Johnson didn't seem to think you were funny. She was thinking your words over, trying to find a way to make you wrong. Some of the words your ancestor had written rang in your head. They'd written that, with vampires, it was best to avoid. And, if you couldn't avoid, to appease. All other routes hardly went the way they'd hope. You took another sip of your tea.

"So, what do you suggest?" Mrs. Johnson said. It seemed to pain her to ask the question. You tilted your head before you put the tea down. That was a good question, but there was only one thing you really wanted. 

"Leave the boys alone." You started. It was the only thing you'd promised, and the only thing you really desired. You wanted the boys to live, and you wanted them to live up to their part of the deal. Even if you knew you should head out of Santa Carla the second you weren't needed.

Still, you weren't going to be unfair and you knew you needed to give them something in return. There was only one thing you really could give them.

"And I'll convince them to let you kill Max."

***

That was a feat that was going to be easier said than done. You stood on the street corner, replaying the conversation over and over in your mind. It had gone well all things considered. You'd bought the boys time, and you promised the Emerson's, and Mrs. Johnson, something that they wanted. Kill Max and Michael is human once again. You'd talked about what would happen afterwards, and you'd made it clear that the boys would inherit his territory. They'd avoid them, and vice versa. They had no reason to betray you, as the only good course of action was the one you'd detailed. You let out a breath. So, why were you so nervous?

You tried to empty your mind. Make it so they had to hear it come out of your mouth instead from the unfiltered thoughts inside your head.

"For someone trying not to think, your thoughts are pretty loud." A voice said behind you, and you jumped. You turned, staring into the face of the bleached blonde. His eyes seemed half amused, and you watched as a slight smirk came onto his face before he reached inside his coat. You had placed a hand over your chest, before you let out a breath. You tried your best, but his words didn't give you any hope that you'd succeed. So, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

"It went okay. I-I met Grandpa Emerson." You said, and you watched as he blinked in surprise. You were just supposed to meet the witch, but it was clear how they'd manage to employ her to help them then. He cursed under his breath. It was obvious they hadn't realized he was going to be a threat, and you quickly tried to keep his mood up with good news. "I got them to agree to let you live." You said, and David paused at that. A half-scoff left his lips as he lit his cigarette. The flick of his flame, the leather of his gloves. You wondered if he'd have the same effect on you if he wasn't a vampire. You wondered if he'd been just the same when he was human. Still, you could practically see the thoughts in his head. That it wasn't really their decision if they lived or not.

"How's that?" He asked, and you didn't miss his tone. He was half-serious, half playing at arrogance. Still, you answered his question just the same. The words were hard to get out, and you wished it wasn't just David that you had to say them to.

"I said you'd give them Max." You waited with bated breath. You expected a flash of anger, just like the flick of his lighter. Cruel words, icy eyes, and perhaps even the same violence you'd seen the first night. Instead, he blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth and asked,

"Is that it?"

[abluescarfonwaston]

Did someone ask for a quick and angsty immortal jaskier prompt? "It was supposed to be the music," he whispered, voice breaking. Heart breaking. "The songs. I wanted my songs to be remembered forever. I never wanted this."

Why would you do this to me anon. i’m already crying over the fact dandelion outlives everyone he loves. Major Character Death Warning. Obviously. Literally everyone dies. Uuuh also this kinda turns into Lambert/Jaskier at the end but like. They’re both Centuries old so nothing Happens.

When the wasting sickness swept through Lettenhove it killed his Mother and his Father and his Sisters and left him untouched. 

He was ten and the world was over. Except he kept waking up in the morning.

At thirteen a girl at Oxenfurt, Essi Daven, played her Lute in the commons and sang and had the most beautiful cornflower blue eyes. And for the first time in years he sang a duet with her and suddenly he was a bard and he had a little sister again. 

Maybe the world hadn’t ended. Maybe it finally restart.

At seventeen he met a man with white hair and seemly as many scars on his body as his heart and fell in love. Because Bards fell in love easily and he was impossibly easy to love.

The witcher plead for his life. Plead for them to let the bard go.

“No. Both of us or neither.” He was done outliving those he loved. At seventeen he was already done with that. “You kill him and let me go and i’ll destroy your mountain. Kill every last one of you in revenge.”

He’d leave behind a song. The one he’d written as a child and had swept the town more devastating than even the scarlet fever had been. It would live on past him. He would be remembered. The people he loved would be too. Toss a coin to your Witcher. The people he loved immortalized in song.

It wasn’t supposed to make him immortal.

“Give it a rest Jaskier.” Danity snapped. “It’s not you that has to be afraid of anything. No one ever touches a troubadour. For unfathomable reasons you’re inviolable.”

He’d still feared then. Chappelle could have had him killed. He was pretty sure he could die. Mostly he feared the pain. Or dying alone.

“When an old woman gets tired of life she walks into the woods without a weapon. The results are guaranteed.” He’d told Geralt when he’d moaned about how the world was changing and -more importantly- that he had no work.

Remember how I don’t even carry a knife when I follow you out on an adventure? No weapons at all. Ever. Just me and my lute.

He’d brushed death. A thousand times he’d almost met her. He followed Geralt- who was prophesied to always have death follow after him. You’d think at some point they’d meet.

Essi and Geralt fell in love on the coast. He wrote a ballad for them. About how their love was so powerful not even death could come between them.

He never played it. Not to anyone. He didn’t think it was actually about Essi and Geralt.

When rash appeared on Essi’s face in Vizima during the quarantine his hands shook.

“Not her.” He’d screamed at the gods. They didn’t exist of course. If they had then they’d abandoned them all long ago. “Not her.”

“Jaskier?” She shivered violently. “I don’t want to be burned.”

“You won’t be. You’re going to be fine.” He promised. Clutching her hand. “Promise Poppet. You’re going to be fine.”

The cremation fires blazed outside.

“I want to be buried in the woods. With my lute and-” She hurled mostly into the bucket. “My necklace. Please Jaskier.”

“Course Poppet. When you’re old and grey I will bury you out in the forest.”

“Thank you.” She clutched the little pearl. “For giving me him. I love him.”

“I never saw him happier than when he was with you Poppet.”

“What about when he was with you?”

“Oh come now.” He shifted her in his arms and moved the bucket a little further away. “You know me. I’m insufferable.”

“I love you Jaskier.” She cried as she shivered with less and less energy.

“I love you too Poppet.”

He carried her from the city. Into the forest. Her heart stopped beating before they arrived. He dug her grave and buried her with her lute and her pearl necklace.

With the pearl he’d given to her as a birthday gift. From him and Geralt.

When Regis passed it felt absurd. Humans weren’t supposed to outlive goddamn vampires in their fifth fucking century.

And then there was Geralt. Died in Yennefer’s arms along with her.

“It was supposed to be me.” He told no one as Ciri led their bodies out to the lake. “I was supposed to die with him.” Love so great not even death can part us.

But the story was never really about him was it?

Nenneke had a garden full of plants that grew under a crystal skylight. They didn’t grow anywhere else in the world anymore.

He’d asked Geralt about it. She’d said something about the sun and how it was changing. Apparently Geralt had asked why they all didn’t live under crystal skylights then, if it was so deadly.

“It’s already too late for us.” She’d said.

She talked liked the world was ending but the world ended all the time. And he still woke up in the morning.

Zoltan’s beard turned grey. He supposed he should have been thankful that Zoltan got to turn grey. It was better than most of the people he’d loved.

“How’s your fucking hair still Gold. You’re supposed to be getting old too!”

“I dye it.” He lied with a roll of the eyes. He’d stopped dying it years ago.

That winter he buried Zoltan too.

Golden eyes stared at him in confusion. “You look just like.” He started. His thin hair was grey. His wolf medallion gleamed in the sunlight that streaked into the bar.

“You’re one of the last Witchers i think.” He told him as the waves crashed outside. “Might even be the last.”

“Fucking hope so.” He sat down across from him and stole his beer. “Shitty job and a shitty life.” He squinted at him- which Jaskier knew was entirely unnecessary. He just forgotten to adjust his eyes. “What’s your name bard?”

“Dandelion.” He answered. It had been for the last century. “Yours?”

“Lambert.” He downed the drink. “You really think i’m the last? That worth a song? One of my brothers had a lot of songs.”

“Yes I suppose he did.” He waved for another drink. “And look what it got him.”

“Died surrounded by people who loved him.”

“Are you sure you know what a pogrom is?”

That got him a sharp toothy grin.

“I could write you a song but-” He was tired of burying people he loved.

“But?”

“I’m cursed you see.” It was definitely a curse these days. “I’ll live until the last of my songs is forgotten. I really don’t need anymore material.”

Lambert leaned forward curiously. “Doesn’t sound like a curse.”

“You don’t think it sounds like a curse?” He sneered. Lambert’s face faltered. “To outlive everyone you love?”

Lambert paused. Thinking. “Write me a song then. Play it just for me. So if my song’s the last we’ll go together.”

“And what’s my payment for this song?”

“Company.” Lambert’s grey eyes glittered. “You look like you need it.”

“Not as much as you. I bet you talk to your horse.”

“Well i know you do pretty boy. Heard you in the stable.”

He leaned back on the bench. “So what’s a Witcher do in a world without monsters?”

He shrugged. “Fish mostly.”

“I can do that. Once almost snagged a catfish the size of you. Got a djinn instead. Very bad deal honestly.”

“You expect me to believe that? I know about Bards and Ballads and how you’re all rotten liars.”

“Don’t forget about fisherman and their tales.”

The boat leaked worse than an old drunkard but it was small enough and the lake calm enough that it didn’t make him sick.

“I could just kill you. Curse probably can’t fix decapitation.” Lambert offered with his stick in the water. He claimed were bombs they could use instead if they got desperate. Or bored.

He smiled and shook his head. “Give it a try.”

Lambert raised an eyebrow but pulled a silver blade from it’s sheath.

His pole reeled and the boat tilted to the side, plunging him and the sword into the water.

He laughed as the attempted to drag the monstrous fish to the boat. Lambert cursed and climbed in. Yanking at the rod until the line snapped and they fell back into the boat in a painful pile. Laughing.

He didn’t remember the last time he’d laughed.

“Sing me a song bard.” Lambert would request from under his floppy sun brimmed hat. “No else up here but me.”

“There’s an entire stone keep on the hill.”

“No ones lived there in centuries. No one can hear you up here but me.”

He frowned at the ruins on the hill. Lambert kicked him.

He grinned and for the first time in decades - sang.

Maybe. Maybe the world hadn’t ended. Maybe it had finally restart.

“What was this place called?” He asked as they wandered through the crumbled ruin, covered in moss and ivy.

“Kaer Morhen.” He said like the words hurt him.

They hurt him too. He laughed.

He laughed some more.

He couldn’t stop laughing until Lambert smacked him hard enough to see stars.

“I never got to come here. Geralt.” He caught the flinch but moved past it. “Never trusted me enough to even let me know which country it was in.”

“So you were his bard.”

He nodded as Lambert kicked a stone apart. “He was right not to tell me of course. But.” It still hurt that his best friend hadn’t trusted him with his home. He’d taken Yennefer here. But not him. Never him.

He didn’t deserve Geralt’s trust. A thief, a liar, a spy, a bard. It still hurt.

“Well a wolf finally took you here. Is it everything you fucking dreamed?”

He took it in. “Nah. It’s rubbish.”

Lambert smirked. “Yeah. At least that hasn’t changed.”

“You’re hairs getting grey bard.”

“What?” He nearly leaped into the water in his haste to look.

Grey strands streaked his beard.

“Thank you.” He cried. “Thank you.”

“Still owe me that song Dandy.”

He wrote Lambert a lot of songs. Performed for an audience of one.

“Are you really okay with the fact no one will ever hear them? I mean what’s the point in being immortalized in song if-”

“Yeah. Didn’t give a shit about the songs.”

“Hey!” He protested. Kicking him where he lounged in front of the fire. “They’re good songs!”

He grunted in fake pain. Wiggled out of range. “Did Geralt ever tell you why he liked having you around?”

“My charming personality I assume.”

Lambert snorted.

He sat down on the floor and poke him. “Don’t fall asleep. Tell me why you think he did.”

“No one tells Witchers bedtime stories.”

“Oh.” Lambert was halfway to sleep already. “Would you like one?”

“Yeah.”

“What you think happens after?” They were huddled together. Old and grey as a storm raged outside. “We die.”

“I gave up on gods when i was a child.”

“So did i.”

“Then.” He paused. Listened to the howl. “Whatever’s next at least neither of us is going alone.”

Lambert squeezed his bony hand. “What’s the chance we see them again?”

“Hm.” He pretended to consider. “Well we’re definitely going to hell so-”

“Like anyone we gave a shit about wouldn’t be.”

“Point.”

He closed his golden eyes. “Hey Dandy.”

“Yeah?”

“Sing me out.”

“It’d be my pleasure.”

And quite singing filled the drafty cabin until the song stopped.

The world ended.

And at long last no one woke up in the morning.

[beyondconfessor]

Truth or Lie

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Missy/Reader

Summary: “Show. Me,” Missy repeated, a sharp command to her voice that shot down your spine. 

N.B.: Voyeurism/Exhibitionism, masturbation/auto-fisting. Mentions of getting turned on by the idea of a pretty evil woman killing you (look, I know who I am and this is purely self-indulgent)

The Doctor didn’t allow you in the vault. In fact, he’d been quite explicit about the fact that you were not, under any circumstances to enter without him present.

Which was fine. Mostly fine. It’d been fine up until Missy had somewhat joined on a mission and apparently spent the entire time flirting with you. It’d been entirely surprising, and if the Doctor hadn’t been watching with high disapproval on his face, you might have indulged in the flirtation back.

As it was, you couldn’t.

So…you snuck into the vault, where Missy had returned to her place, behind the lovely barrier, and while the Doctor was away, his companion could play.

One trip, mostly filled with light conversation, a curiosity really to understand the so-called monster in the vault, turned to two visits, then three and then four, with flirtation and banter running between you. Missy would give a sharp response, somewhere between a threat and a flirt, and you would smirk, and whisper about promises.

“I could kill you.”

“I know.”

“Right now, I could escape.”

“I know.” And then you smirked her. “And how would you kill me?”

“Strangulation,” she said as if she’d thought about it. “You deserve something personal.”

It was the first time the flirting had paused from you. There was no witty banter, no retort or response, only the image of her fingers around your throat as she hushed your attempts to fight back.

You could imagine her blue eyes staring deep into your own eyes, her mouth parted, tongue behind her teeth as she grinned wide and bright, watching the life drain from you. Crooning how good you were being.

It should frighten you. It should terrify you. And maybe it did, but it also a struck a deep part, low in your belly as you imagine her straddling your waist, pinning you to the ground with her knees pressing against your shoulders.

“Oh,” Missy laughed. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, poppet?”

It was enough to tear your thoughts away from the image and give a wave of guilt as you were reminded that your survival instinct was entirely rubbish against the hot evil lady before you. Cheeks turning red, you looked away, hating how the embarrassed washed over your face and down your neck, giving away your desire as plainly as if you’d spoken it.

“There’s no shame in it, you know.” You looked up. She was sitting on the piano, legs swinging idly before she stopped, and stared. “I could even make it pleasant.”

You cleared your throat and looked away. “I don’t doubt that.”

“Mm. I could hypnotise you first, have you do all sorts of naughty things for me before I did it, and then you wouldn’t even struggle. But I would like it if you struggled.”

The room felt hot, and you gasped in a breath, thinking about leaving to sort the situation out yourself before it became too much.

“In fact,” Missy said. “I could hypnotise you right now.” There was a sweet way she turned her voice as if she was promising a Christmas present. If you’re very good, I’ll hypnotise you and then suffocate the air from your lungs.

Honestly, it was terrifying how easy you would allow her to destroy you.

“I need to leave,” you said thickly. Making a move to exit the room.

“Poppet,” she called, and you stopped, turning over your shoulder to catch her out of the corner of your eyes. “If you get something for me, I’ll give you a present.”

“What present?”

She only stared at you, a knowing smile on her face. She didn’t needle to dangle the carrot in front of you. The very promise of it was enough.

“Tell the Doctor to invite me out again. Convince him that I’m trying, and if you do…” she trailed off and laughed.

It was enough.

You spoke to the Doctor, unsubtle in your attempts and yet earnest with your intention. Keeping her locked in the vault didn’t allow her to prove anything. If he wanted her to help, truly help, he should be trying to encourage through actions in shorter, safer walks, so to speak. Rehabilitation was about trust, after all, and it needed to go both ways.

He relented. Advising that he’d allow her to leave the vault on brief trips to places where limited havoc could be reached, to begin with.

And then she stepped onto the TARDIS, her eyes swung to yours briefly, before glancing away. You travelled to distant moons, where museums were held. You travelled to an empty space ship, where she and the Doctor uncovered an ancient murder as you and Bill stood around awkwardly, listening to them bicker. You saw a planet burn as its sun went supernova.

There was a trip after trip, and each time, Missy would glance you, but never speak directly to you, monologuing to allow anyone to comment.

It left you to wonder what the present was.

Wondering if it was just the fact that she didn’t kill you. That should have been enough. Bill certainly thought it was, convinced that Missy might turn at any moment as she made snide comments to an agreeing Nardole.

But your eyes followed Missy, and each time watched as, after your trip, the Doctor would return her to the vault where she would go without a fight, and the Doctor would watch her suspiciously.

On one such occasion, he made a comment to the effect that he knew Missy was up to something, had something planned, but couldn’t quite work out what it was.

“Or she’s just trying to be good,” you told him. “Isn’t that what you want from her? To go and do these trips and not create mischief.”

“She got into a fight with the Derinenium Vendors,” he pointed out. “By haggling.”

“They were asking a bit much,” you countered, but the Doctor wasn’t listening anymore, returning to his thoughts about how Missy was planning something, he just needed to work out what it was before she could put it in action.

At night, you would lie in bed and think about Missy’s hands around your throat. And then you’d wonder about where her else hands could touch.

And then, having enough of the trips, the looming silence between you and the nights alone in your bed stroking yourself raw with thoughts of her, you made your way back to the vault, like you did so long ago.

The piano music stopped at you entered, and although she didn’t turn around, you knew that she was aware it was you.

The vault doors shut and her head slowly turned to face you, eyes alight. “Well look who finally came to collect her present.”

“And what’s my present?” you asked.

“Hmm. Well, I’ll tell you, but first, you have to play a game.”

“What game?” you asked.

“Just a small game,” she shrugged. “I promise it won’t end in death, so as long as you don’t make me cross.” She grinned at the end, eyes flashing to let you know that she wasn’t entirely joking.

“Fine,” you agreed. “I’ll play a game.”

“Good girl.” You squirmed at the comment and watched her grin widen. “Now, the rules are straightforward. I’m going to say a statement, and you’re going to respond with truth or lie. You have to be honest, though, because I’ll know if you’re trying to deceive me.”

You nodded, not quite sure where she what she was getting, but there was the sense that she was setting up a prank you weren’t quite in on, and a low, squeezing feeling filled your belly.

“You joined the Doctor after egghead, but before the other one.”

The other one being Bill, you presumed. “Truth.”

She smiled. “You think the Doctor is quite clever but rather annoying at times.”

“Truth.”

“You fancy yourself more clever than other humans.”

“Lie.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she looked away, adjusting her skirts on the piano seat. “You like the danger of the little trips.”

“Truth,” you said. It was hardly a lie that you weren’t some sort of adrenaline junkie. There was no way you would stay with the Doctor if it weren’t for the thrill of running from and towards danger in equal merits.

“You masturbate about me nightly.”

Your breath was pulled at that moment, eyes staring at Missy’s as you realised her angle all along was to humiliate you. She hadn’t quite managed to lull you into a false sense of security, but you had presumed that she would be trying to get you angry, confront some deep dark, selfish part of yourself. Not…admit to that.

“Answer up,” Missy sighed, rolling her eyes. “Truth or lie, you have to respond.”

“Truth,” you said.

Missy blinked and seemed to grow tall in her seat, back straightening as she laughed, delighted by your response. “How many times?” she asked.

“That’s a question, not a statement,” you said, to lead her back on topic.

“Bored of the game now, answer my question––how many times?” You watched her lean forward on the piano seat, eyes bright with a knowing smirk on her lips.

“Two, sometimes three times a night,” you admit. “Is this the whole point of the game?”

“Show me.”

“What?”

“Show. Me,” Missy repeated, a sharp command to her voice that shot down your spine. And then she ended it with a grin. It was hungry, it was shark-like, but worst of all, it was the grin of a woman who knew she was going to win.

“Here?”

“Well you can hardly do it in the TARDIS on my next trip––unless you like spectators of course.”

You shivered at the mention and then bit your lip, looking to the vault door. The Doctor was in a class. He’d be busy for another hour at least. And yet, you couldn’t help but think that this was a bad idea, terrible really.

It didn’t stop you from turning back to Missy. “Okay,” you agreed. And then you were unbuckling your belt, before undoing your jeans, watching with heated cheeks as Missy leant back against the piano. Her expression remained neutral as you slid down the denim, then the cotton underwear, feeling your ass press against the leather armchair.

You looked away, sliding down on the edge of the armchair as you stroked between your thighs––finding yourself already slick and swollen.

“Uh-uh, this is for me,” Missy said, “I want eye-contact.”

You turned your eyes on hers, holding the bright blue as Missy rose from the piano and came to step on the very edge of the podium, staring down at you.

“Good girl,” she crooned. “Now open your legs wider for Mummy.”

“Oh God,” you hissed, but obey nonetheless. Your legs were wide open, fingers stroking over the sex and another hand circled your clit. You wanted to look away, but Missy’s expression shifted into that of hunger and you couldn’t.

“Two, three times a night for little old me?” she asked.

You nodded, biting down on your lip as a moan caught in your throat.

“And do you think about me touching you right there?” she asked, pointing at your cunt. “Or do you think about touching me?”

“Yes,” you gasped.

She tilted her head, her eyes fascinated. You couldn’t tell if she was flattered or just curious by the whole thing.

“Don’t just stroke, finger yourself too. I want to see how much you can take.”

And so you obeyed. You slid two fingers in, curling inside as your other hand continued to stroke and circle your clit, then you slid in a third, and then a fourth. The angle was awkward, but the feeling of it filling you up at your stared at Missy’s enraptured attention was enough.

“May I––“

“Not yet,” she said. And she tilted her head, watching you buck and thrust against your fingers. “Thumb in too.”

“I can’t––“

“Won’t. Try it. For me.”

The angle was awkward, but you pressed your thumb to your entrance, feeling your cunt ache at the pressure. Four fingers were easy enough, but the thumb was a lot.

You pressed deeper, squirming in the seat, finger pausing on your clit and hear her tut, “don’t stop, you can do fit it in.”

Pressing the thumb deeper, you whined, but she was right, it did fit. It could fit.

“Good girl, you can finish now if you like.”

You squeezed around the fingers, and with the permission from Missy, her smile completely feral, it was enough to convulse suddenly on the armchair. Your heels dug into the ground as you came around your fist with a sudden gush. The climax spilt across your wrist and thighs, down the armchair as you whimpered at the release.

Missy laughed. “Ohh, you are fun,” she said. “Hmm, but enough now.”

You pulled your fingers out, whimpering at the aching, hollow feeling left behind. You paused, catching your breath. And then, looking away from Missy, you were pulling up the cotton underwear, the jeans, and buckling up your belt again.

You felt wet and sticky, and there was nothing immediately around you to clean the mess on your hand. Awkwardly, you stood up and shivered, intimately aware of what you’d just done as Missy sat back on the piano.

“Doctor will be here soon,” she said. “Best to run off and clean up before he realises what’s happened.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but she blinked at you, not unlike a cat wondering while you were standing before it, and the words died away. You gave a small nod and went to leave.

“Oh, and next time, bring something to play with. Maybe that blue dildo you’re so fond of,” she said

You paused, wondering how she even knew of it, before deciding that Missy had likely gone through your belonging on the TARDIS. “Okay,” you agreed because your underwear was wet, and your hand smelt of your cunt and she was smiling at you like the cat that got the canary.

And then she swung around on the piano seat, and placed her hands on the keys, apparently ignoring you now as she began to play a familiar tune.

You left the fault, ensuring it was shut behind you and wondered how you were going to take before you revisited her.

(It was a week).

[fanficshiddles]

Butterfly Into Chains, Chapter 28 (Final Chapter)

Two Months Later

‘CAKE!’ Esme called out to everyone as she carried the freshly baked cake through to the dining table.

That word alone assembled the Alphas quicker than anything else. Ben and Chris were there first, stealing kisses from Esme before sitting down and cutting their own large slices.

Michael came in next, with their baby Amelia in his arms. Esme took her from him and kissed him before he sat down too.

Esme smiled fondly down at her baby girl in her arms. Then an arm slipped around her waist, David kissed her cheek and looked down at Amelia from over Esme’s shoulder. He stroked her cheek and cooed at her.

‘She so has your eyes, poppet.’ David smiled.

‘Where’s Tom?’ Chris asked.

‘He’s just coming.’ David said.

Then the sound of wheels could be heard. Tom appeared and wheeled his wheelchair over to the table. Esme went over to him and kissed his cheek, making him smile.

Since the accident, Tom lost the use of his legs. David and the others had wanted to just take Esme back home to themselves, cast Tom out, but they knew it would hurt her if she didn’t have a relationship with Tom too. He was still her Alpha at the end of the day, an unbreakable bond had been formed. Like with all of them. Even if an Alpha beat his omega black and blue, she would still have some form of connection and attachment towards him.

But with Tom not as strong as he used to be, David became the leader of the pack. Michael, Ben and Chris all agreed he was the right one for the job. Tom hadn’t been happy originally, but he was slowly getting used to his new place in the pack.

Esme got some meds to take, to stop her heat from happening. They all decided it was for the best to give her time to heal, physically and mentally. Then when she was ready, they would stop the meds so she could have more babies with her Alphas. But babies she would keep and nurture as her very own.

She was happy now, with her five Alphas. She didn’t feel caged or like she was just a breeding machine anymore. The sparkle in her eyes was starting to come back, her bubbly and outgoing personality was too.

The Alphas, even Tom, realised just how badly their actions had affected her. How withdrawn and closed off she had become.

They all knew that Esme would never truly be able to forgive them completely, not one hundred percent. And there was still a small, niggling doubt in the back of her mind that was worried they would try and sell any future babies.

But with how they all were with baby Amelia, she couldn’t see it happening. Even Tom was fond of her, his hardened heart was starting to soften a little.

Though Esme would never admit it, she was kind of glad Tom had lost the use of his legs. It made him less scary, less powerful… More human. As he had been needing help and care at the start for a few weeks, until he got used to the chair and how to manoeuvre himself around.

Esme’s caring and nurturing omega instincts had kicked in and she looked after him well once he got home. Which he had been grateful for. He did love her, for who she was, even if he hadn’t acted like it. Treating her like a machine.

They had all spoken at length about taking her collar off. But Esme wanted to keep it on. Saying she was still their omega, and she liked that. Though she did ask that the lead wasn’t used again, that she would just hold their hands instead when they were in busy places. That was agreed upon. It was only Tom that had used it anyway.

The cake was almost gone within five minutes. Esme rolled her eyes and made a mental note to make a larger cake, or two, next time.

Conversation turned to football, so Esme left the Alphas to it and took Amelia through to her bedroom to lay her down to sleep.

She looked down fondly at her once she tucked her into her cot.

‘I promise, I will protect you and look after you, always. I hope that when you’re older, you will meet the right Alpha for you. One that will cherish you for you, straight away.’ She smiled and leaned down to kiss her head.

[isis-astarte-diana]

No Lesbian Sheep

Summary: “Aliens, time travel, life or death situations and you’re too scared to flirt?” Or, Bill Potts can spot a disaster lesbian from a mile off and now you’re getting wing-womaned... in space. [Request] [One Shot] [SFW]

Warnings: Little bit of language, whole lot of farcical plot points. 

Word Count: 3640

NB: For anon! This accidentally turned into an ode to Bill because I freaking love her and I had so much fun writing her! Lesbian sheep factoid courtesy of my girlfriend. Is this... crackfic?

"I don't get it." Bill stirred her drink with the paper straw she’d been given, pulling a face at the way it was beginning to disintegrate. "What do you see in her?"

"What?" You glanced up from the glass in front of you, head full of anxious static. "See in who?"

"Oh, see in who," she mocked in a terrible facsimile of your voice. You snorted. "In Missy. I mean," both palms on the table, she leaned forwards conspiratorially. “Just- what is it?”

It’s fine, just play it cool. “What are you on about?” She raised her eyebrows. “I’m not- I don’t- could you stop looking at me like that?” You flicked a tiny chunk of ice at her nose with your straw and she laughed. “I don’t fancy Missy, alright?”

Scoffing, she sat up straight, shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, sure, alright, I believe you.” She sipped her drink and looked around the student union casually. “It’s just, she was talking about you last night and-”

“What did she say?”

Oops.

“I knew it!” Her head whipped back around and she jabbed a finger towards your chest, eyes bright with triumph. “You totally fancy her! Look, can you tell the Doctor? He bet me and Nardole a takeaway that you weren’t interested and...” She trailed off at the look on your face. “Yeah, probably shouldn’t have mentioned that last bit.”

“You and Nardole? He bet you?” You stared at her, mouth agape. “Bill, who else knows?!”

“No-one!” The response was far too quick. “Well, I mean, Nardole knows, but the Doctor doesn’t believe us. You know what he’s like, though, never notices anything like that.” She smiled guiltily and placed her hand on yours. “Are you annoyed at me?”

"Basically always, but I’ll get over it.” You gave her a gentle kick under the table in a reluctant gesture of goodwill. “You haven’t mentioned anything to her, have you?”

“What? No!” Letting out a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding, you leaned back in your chair. “I mean, she definitely knows, though.”

“Oh my god.” You covered your face with your hands and peeked out at her through your fingers. “Is it really obvious?”

“Oh, no, no,” she muttered unconvincingly around the straw in her mouth. “Well, it is a bit obvious, yeah.” Sensing the imminent nervous breakdown, she backpedalled, “or maybe it’s just me! I do sort of know what it looks like when you have a crush on a woman. Other people might not see it.”

“Nardole sees it,” you reminded her, and she gave you an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, fair point. I mean,” she shrugged. “For the record, I think you should go for it.”

“Go for it?” You scoffed. “Oh, what, ask her out for a drink? It’s not a film, Bill, I can’t just-”

“Oh, it is so a film!” She was getting excited, that sparkling look coming over her face that usually spelled trouble. “Aliens, time travel, life or death situations and you’re too scared to flirt?”

“I’ll die a hundred times before I embarrass myself in front of a good looking woman.” It was only partly a joke. “Anyway, she’d never be interested in me.”

“Don’t make me sit here talking you up and telling you what a catch you are, because we’ll both get embarrassed,” she said seriously. “You have to try. You owe it to yourself. Hell, you owe it to me! Every time I bring a girl back to the flat, there’s a Pope, or a robot, or an alien plant in my bedroom. My love life is dead in the water. One of us has to be getting some.”

Bill was a force to be reckoned with. Her eagerness was infectious, and despite your concerns you found yourself grinning and determined. “Do you really not fancy her, at all?”

“Really,” she agreed. “But then I was never that into bad girls - well, not that bad, anyway. But you…” She pointed her straw at you. “You need to seize the moment. Do it for the lesbians.”

“Yeah,” you said wistfully, and clinked your glass against hers. “Alright. For the lesbians.”

+++++

“First things first, we need to find the control room.”

“Oh, astonishing powers of deduction there, Taggart.”

The Doctor threw Missy a dirty look, the blue lights casting his face in sharp relief. She was perched on the handrail that ran either side of the T-junction walkway, above a sheer drop into the pitch-black bowels of the ship. Opposite her, you, Bill and Nardole held firmly to the railing and tried not to look down.

“So we try both doors?” Bill suggested. “Split up?”

“Yes, Bill,” he praised, and she beamed.

“Swot,” you whispered in her ear. Landing an elbow in your ribs, she glanced at you from the corner of her eye and tilted her head to indicate Missy, who was swinging her dangling legs back and forth in boredom. Showtime, she mouthed. You gulped.

“Missy, you take Nardole. You two,” he gestured towards your queasy human huddle, “with me.”

“Why do I get him?”

“Sir, I’m not sure that’s wise,” Nardole agreed nervously, fiddling with his gloves.

The Doctor looked unimpressed at their complaints. “Well she can’t go alone.”

“No, of course not.” Bill dug her elbow in sharply. “You’ll go, won’t you?” She gave you a pointed look.

“Oh! Um, yeah,” you piped up, trying to sound casual as you pulled away from the jab to your side. “Of course, not a problem.”

“Oh, my hero.” Missy pressed a hand to her chest and leaned dizzyingly far back into the darkness, before launching herself to her feet. “Come along then, poppet. Let’s take a look-see.” She hooked one hand around your upper arm and tugged forcefully, making you stumble as you followed her.

“Comms bracelets,” the Doctor called after you, pointing to the cuff on his wrist. “Don’t go out of range.”

“Yes, yes,” she agreed blithely as she frogmarched you towards the door. “If we die, we’ll call you.”

The door shot upwards, disappearing into the wall to reveal another empty stretch of corridor that curved out of sight. “Ladies first,” Missy chimed, and pushed you forwards with a hand in the small of your back.

+++++

“Left or right?”

Missy’s voice was deadpan. “Yes, that does appear to be the choice, doesn’t it?”

As it turned out, the corridor had stretched on for almost a hundred unremarkable yards before ending in yet another junction of two identical doors.

“We split up again, then,” you said confidently. “I’ll go left, you go right, see which way looks the most promising?” As much as you weren’t a fan of the idea of exploring a spaceship on your own, Missy’s company was distracting. The prospect of a few minutes of solitude in which to have a firm word with yourself and gather your thoughts was quite an attractive one.

“Definitely not.” Okay, unexpected. “The Doctor wouldn’t be impressed if I sent a squishy, defenceless human off on her own, all breakable and full of blood.” She threw you a stern look that was not helping you calm down. “We’ll check them together.”

“We have the comms bracelets,” you protested weakly, holding up your wrist to show it to her. She wrapped her hand around your arm just below the device and held tightly. You bit back an embarrassing squeak.

“Irrelevant. Come on,” she nodded towards the door on the left. “Close behind me. If something tries to eat you, let me know.”

Encouragingly, this new section of corridor looked different. It was long and straight, and something at the end of it was lit up in green. Missy’s body obscured most of your view as she pulled you along behind her none-too-gently. “See anything?”

“Shh!” The hand that wasn’t gripping your arm shot up in front of you. “Listen.”

You cocked your head and tried to focus your hearing, but whatever she was talking about was getting louder. It was a vaguely familiar whining noise, setting your teeth on edge, just at the high end of your hearing range. “Sounds like an old cathode ray telly switching off.”

“Yes,” she murmured, squinting at the light that you now realised was brighter than it had been. “Or something switching on.”

Suddenly the metal floor panels were rushing up to meet you. You tried to put one hand out to keep your face from crashing into the ground, but it was an instant too late and your wrist twisted painfully under your chest. Missy was on top of you, breathing close to your ear, her arm flung out to keep you pressed into the floor.

“What-,” you were cut off by a deafening noise as the corridor lit up in bolts of blinding green light that shot, screaming, over your heads.

“Security system,” she hissed in your ear. “Don’t move.”

Movement was beyond your capabilities anyway. You squeezed your eyes shut against the light and tried not to focus on the way her hips were cradling yours or the restraining touch of her cool hand on your arm. You could hear your rapid pulse even over the sound of the lasers.

It was over as suddenly as it began; the noise cut off abruptly, leaving you panting hard underneath her. Her hand slid down your arm, stopping at your injured wrist. She squeezed lightly, pressure that felt like touching a bruise. “Not broken.”

“No,” you agreed, breathless. “I’ll be fine.”

“You could thank me, you know,” she murmured, not moving. “For saving your life.”

Your brain short-circuited. Was this… was she…

“Are you two okay? We heard shots.”

The Doctor’s tinny voice rattled out of her comms bracelet. She rolled over, letting you sit up.

“Set off a very hostile burglar alarm,” she spoke into the microphone. “No casualties.”

“Good. We found the control room. There’s a map, looks like you’re nearby. Follow my directions and get back here, you’ll want to see this.”

+++++

"You know, for ages they thought there were no lesbian sheep.”

You pulled a face and adjusted the ice pack on your wrist, picking up another hobnob. “You what?”

“Like, they knew there were gay sheep, or… rams, or whatever.” Bill sat down at her kitchen table opposite you, bearing two fresh cups of tea. “But they didn’t think there were any lesbian sheep until a few years ago. D’you know why?”

“Interspecies misogyny?” You guessed around a mouthful of biscuit. She shook her head.

“It’s because, right, when male sheep want to mate, they make a move. They go up to the other sheep, all sexy or whatever, and, well… yeah.” She made an indecipherable, faintly vulgar hand gesture and you choked on hobnob crumbs, reaching for your tea. “But when a girl sheep wants to mate, they just sort of… stand there. Apparently that’s how they attract the males, right? But what happens if two girl sheep fancy each other?” She raised her eyebrows, waiting for a response.

You shrugged. “I s’pose they just stand there.”

“Exactly.” She sipped her tea and looked at you over the rim of the mug as if that was the answer to something. “So all over the world there are fields full of lonely lesbian sheep, standing still, looking at each other, waiting for something to happen.”

“But it never will,” you finished, and frowned. “God, that’s really depressing.”

“Yeah, I know. We should get the Doctor to do something about it. Anyway, though, that’s not the point.” She waved the thought away.

“There was a point?”

“The point is,” Bill leaned forwards, elbows on the table, and fixed you with an intense look. “Don’t be a sheep.”

+++++

“Have to say, this is not one of my top ten favourite adventures.”

“I thought you loved snails?”

You scowled over your shoulder at Bill, arm thrust out through the bars of the cage you were locked in together. “I love Earth snails,” you said through gritted teeth, inching further into the gap. “I love snails that aren’t big enough to eat me, which is a distinction I never thought I would have to make.”

“And yet here we are.” She leaned back against the bars opposite and watched you. “Do you want me to have another go?”

“I think I’ve almost…” you spider-walked your hand along the cool stone floor outside the cage, managing to brush the sonic screwdriver with your little finger before you lost your balance and fell backwards, sending it rolling an inch further away. You groaned. “Yes please.”

She rose to her feet and came to stand beside you, frowning. “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. We need Mr. Fantastic.”

“Or a stick.” You collapsed onto your back, looking up at the metal ceiling. “Do we have a stick?”

“No stick,” she confirmed, and then clapped her hands so suddenly that you jumped. “I’ve got an idea. Take off your bra.”

Scoffing, you sat up. “Bill Potts, I love you dearly and we may be about to die, but we both know we aren’t each other’s type.”

“No,” she grinned, “I think I can hook it and pull it over here. We just need something to get it with.” Sighing at your unconvinced expression, she gestured to her tank top and jeans. “Well I’ve got nothing to take off, have I? No scarf, no jacket, nothing.”

“Alright, fine,” you conceded, working your hands under your clothes to unhook your bra and awkwardly pull it out from beneath the fabric. “Here.”

“Aw, that’s cute!” She took it from your outstretched hand. “Where’d you get it?”

“Dunno, check the label.” You climbed to your knees and shuffled over. “You really think you can reach it?”

“I think it’s worth a go.” She held one end of it and swung it underhand, the hooks on the back skittering across the ground just shy of where the screwdriver lay. Her face lit up. “Oh, this is so gonna work.”

She pulled back for another try, and as she did so, the door slammed open. You both yelped in surprise. Bill lost her grip and flung your bra uselessly across the room.

“You know what the best thing about snails is?” 

The Doctor’s manic voice was a welcome relief as he began to fiddle with the padlock on the cage. You turned to see him brandishing a ring of keys, testing each one in turn. “Even when they’re huge, they’re still incredibly slow. You can steal their keys and jog at a moderate pace and everything works out alright. Well, mostly.” The cage door swung open and he gestured for you to follow him. “Come on, come on. TARDIS is outside. Missy,” he called over his shoulder. “I dropped my screwdriver in here somewhere, think you can find it while I hold off our slimy friends?”

Your heart stopped for a second. “Doctor-”

“Oh, of course,” Missy breezed. “Stick me with the boring job. I do keep telling you to get something bigger, you’re always losing the bloody thing.”

He scoffed, leaning into the cage to grasp your hand and tug you to your feet. “I don’t care what you say, sonic umbrellas look ridiculous.”

As you were manhandled out of the room and into the TARDIS, you threw a miserable glance backwards and crossed your arms self-consciously over your chest.

+++++

The argument that was currently unfolding in the kebab shop had you wishing you were still being held prisoner by giant carnivorous gastropods.

Bill folded her arms and looked up at the Doctor expectantly. “It’s your turn to pay.”

“It’s definitely not,” he insisted, raising a defiant eyebrow. “And you can’t prove that it is, you’ve given me nothing definitive.”

“Oh my god, yes it is!” She threw her hands up in frustration and shot you a pleading look.

You shook your head and huffed, slapping a ten pound note down on the formica countertop. “I’ll pay, then, shall I?”

+++++

Back in the console room, you handed out polystyrene cartons of chips and wondered, idly, how and when buying takeaways for aliens had become so mundane. You sat beside Bill on the stairs, eating ravenously with a tiny wooden fork like you’d just been on a totally normal day out.

Nardole was back in the office, keeping an eye on a particularly unstable experiment. Across the room on the other staircase, the Doctor and Missy were arguing good-naturedly about the finer distinctions between slugs and snails. You tuned in intermittently, trying to limit yourself from looking up from your meal too often. Bill smirked and you nudged her with your knee, ducking your head away.

“I’m telling you, giant slugs would be a far bigger problem.”

“They’ve got no bones, man!” Missy gestured towards the two of you with her fork. “Even the chuckle twins over there could kill them with a well-placed poke!”

The Doctor grinned. “Ah, but they’re faster.”

“They are not faster, that’s an urban legend.” She tossed her head impatiently, meeting your eyes just as you glanced over at her. “Tell him.”

“I- uh- I don’t think they’re faster,” you agreed hastily. “I mean, I don’t know. Bill?” You turned to her with your best imploring expression.

“Don’t look at me, I’ve got no idea.” She patted your knee in encouragement and stood up. “I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?” 

If you weren’t so desperately thirsty you would have protested; as it was, all you could do was nod. “Yeah, cheers.”

“Doctor?” She inclined her head towards the door. “You wanted to show me that thing?”

Oh, god, please don’t do this.

“What? Oh, yeah. Thing. Absolutely.” He climbed to his feet and headed up the stairs and towards the kitchen. “Come on. Kettle and… and thing.”

Hands thrust in her pockets, Bill followed after him. “I meant to ask, how would you feel about like, interfering with evolution? Not massively, just to fix something.”

“If you want me to give humans their tails back, the answer’s no,” he said, voice firm. “That was a very long weekend that I’m not eager to repeat.”

“Nothing like that.” She paused in the doorway and looked back at you pointedly. “It’s just this thing about sheep.”

The door closed behind them, and you were left alone in the console room with Missy. You smiled weakly and averted your eyes, sticking another chip in your mouth.

“I was lying.” She broke the silence and stretched her legs out on the stairs.

You swallowed hard. “About- about what?”

“About the slugs. They are faster. I just like to make him feel stupid.”

“Somebody has to, I suppose.” Setting the remains of your meal aside, you rubbed the back of your neck. “I’m, uh, glad you’re here for that. And for other reasons, too, obviously.”

“Obviously,” she agreed. “How’s the hand?”

“What? Oh,” you glanced down at the fading bruise on your wrist. “Good, yeah. Fixed. Thanks, by the way. You know, for saving my life.”

“You’re welcome, dear. Part and parcel of becoming one of the good guys, I believe. On that note,” she stood and strolled over to you, raising an eyebrow. “I have something for you.”

“You do?”

She was right in front of you, almost at eye level. “Oh, yes.” One hand went behind her back, pulling out a familiar piece of fabric. Your heart sank as she held out your lost bra, hooked on a slender finger.

“I’m so, so sorry,” you babbled, face burning with a violent blush. “We needed something to reach the screwdriver with and-”

When you extended a hand to take it from her, she snatched it away, tucking it back into her coat. “I’ll trade you for it.”

There was something implacable in the way she looked at you, something that made your voice crack. “Trade me what?”

Missy gripped the banister beside you and leaned in close. Her eyes moved across your face, unhurried, charting every nervous twitch you couldn’t suppress. She grinned like a shark and her free hand slid under your chin, tilting your face towards her, close enough that your noses nearly touched. “A kiss, poppet,” she cooed.

Not a sheep. Don’t be a sheep.

The force with which you brought your lips to hers surprised even you. You reached up to slide your fingers into her thick hair, and the pleased noise she let out into your mouth made your breath hitch. She gave as good as she got, pushing you down onto your back on the stairs, one hand braced beside you to hold herself up. You wrapped your other arm around her waist and held on for dear life.

When she broke away, hovering above you like something from a dream, you let out a startled giggle. “Wow.”

“Eloquent as always.” There was no venom in her words. She brushed her lips against your cheek. “Thanks for the food, by the way. I believe it’s the Doctor’s turn next.”

You gawked up at her. “You knew?”

“Oh, please, I’m not an idiot. I thought it wouldn’t be sportsmanlike to interfere, that was all. Had to let you figure it out for yourself.” Her tone turned serious for a moment, her eyes softening. “I didn’t want to coerce you either way.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” you admitted. “You might have had to wait a long time.”

“Luckily for you, I’m extremely patient.” She kissed you again, briefly, and pulled back. “You’ll have to hold him to it, though. Time Lords aren’t famous for honouring the deals they make. Speaking of which,” she straightened up and patted the front of her coat where your bra was tucked, “I think I’ll hold onto this for now.”

You watched in stunned silence as she turned on her heels and left. When you were sure she couldn’t hear you, you jammed your knuckles in your mouth and laughed until your face was wet with tears.

[katefiction]

Ten (short story)

by katefiction (Maria), 16th November 2020

Hi guys,

A managed to wrangle me into writing this. I haven’t written for William and Kate in over 6 years, so I’m a bit rusty. But I had an hour to kill and this is what came out. I’m not sure if I’ll regret this later but I didn’t leave this fandom on a high note and I kind of wanted to say thank you and put it all to bed.

Happy 10 years to all of you.

Love, Maria X

November 16 2020

I open the window, letting in the cold air. The November sky is grey, and a bird swoops over the house and disappears somewhere up in the clouds. 

The house is silent, a stark difference from this an hour ago when three children were screaming. Lunchboxes being stuffed into bags, shoes being shoved on, my husband frantically looking for his face mask. It was all part of my daily life these days.

I go around each of the bedrooms, opening the windows. I have to do it each morning to let the house breathe. William hates it, so this morning I waited for him to leave with the children before opening them all. Today, Louis wanted to go along for the ride, so I’m left alone. A rare moment that I’ve learnt to cherish over the past seven years.

I walk downstairs and make myself some tea and marmalade on toast, enjoying the luxury of not having Louis’ little hands trying to steal it. Switching on the TV, I turn the channel to BBC Breakfast to catch up with the news. It’s all COVID and more COVID this morning. 

I was told there was a story about William and me in the papers yesterday. The 500th retelling of our relationship. It was a regular occurrence that I was just about used to, but part of me still found it all quite bizarre. At least there was a reason behind it this time. They were celebrating something that happened 10 years ago today.

November 16 2010

I woke up in a sweat, having barely slept the night before. Today was the day. 

‘Are you ok?’ Will said groggily beside me.

‘Fine. Why?’ 

‘You’re breathing really hard, it’s like you’ve just run 10k’

‘Oh, I was having a bad dream’ I said, slowing down my breathing. 

He turned over placing his arm over me as I stared up at the ceiling. ‘What about?’

‘Well...we walked out in front of the cameras and suddenly my dress went see through. They just kept taking their photos. Then all of a sudden my dress was gone totally’

‘I wouldn’t mind that’ he smirked.

‘It’s not funny, what if I say something stupid? Or I trip over?’ I cringe at the thought of it.

‘That’s what I’m here for’ he said, pulling me into a hug. ‘Just be yourself’.

2020

William and Louis storm into the kitchen like a tornado, pulling me out of my memory.

Louis is screaming and Will looks a mixture of exhausted, annoyed and tired. 

‘What happened poppet?’ I say, scooping him up. 

‘He didn’t want the snack we took in the car, even though that’s the one he asked for before we left’ William answers. ‘He wants “the other one”, whatever that is’.

‘I want that one’ Louis says, pointing at my toast. There goes my breakfast then.

I set Louis down and hand him my toast while Will goes up the stairs. 

‘It’s so cold up here!’ he calls from the landing. ‘Do you have to open ALL the windows?!’

I sigh. And there goes my peace and quiet too. 

2010

‘Are you sure this dress is ok? It’s not too low cut?’ I asked, looking in the mirror.

The news was out and my phone was going crazy in the corner with calls and texts from people we couldn’t tell before today. Keeping my engagement a secret wasn’t something I ever thought I’d have to do.

‘It’s perfect’ Will said. ‘Matches perfectly with the ring’.

I twizzle it around my finger nervously. This was a huge thing, wearing this ring. It meant I would be compared to my late mother in law for the rest of my life. But more so, it meant Will trusted me implicitly. 

‘I just hope I don’t let you down’ I said, smoothing down my skirt nervously. How could I ever even begin to compare to the last woman who wore this ring?

Will appeared behind me, ‘you’ve never let me down and there’s no reason you would now’

Before I could say anything, there was a knock at the door.

‘Sir, Miss...are you ready?’

2020

‘Kate?’

‘Huh?’ I said absently.

‘I said are you ready?’ Will asked. ‘The kids have their coats on’.

‘Oh yeh, let’s go’, I jumped up from the sofa and pulled on my coat and wellies.

The children were back from school, and as I often did, I’d decided it was a good day for a walk around the grounds. The second lockdown hadn’t been as intense as the first, but I still craved being outside more than usual.

As the kids ran ahead of us, William and I walked in stride together and he stuck out his arm for me to link into his.

‘What’s been on your mind today?’ he asked. ‘You’ve had your head in the clouds all day’

‘Oh just thinking about stuff’ I said evasively.

‘What kind of stuff?’ he prodded. 

‘It’s ten years since we announced our engagement, I was just thinking about that day, how terrified and young I was’.

William smiles in the way he always does when he’s about to tease me, ‘remember how your hands were shaking when Arthur was photographing the ring?’

‘I was scared, ok!’ I say, whacking him on the arm.

‘You did amazingly, I was so proud of you that day’, he said softly.

I leant my head against his shoulder as we walked. ‘Do you ever wish we could go back? To that morning I mean, when we were just a normal couple with no other responsibilities’

‘Is this because Louis stole your toast this morning?’ he laughed. 

‘The world is just so much louder now. Sometimes I feel like I’ve been walking on eggshells for ten years. Trying to be the perfect wife, the perfect royal, the perfect mum.’ I blurt it all out before I’m too afraid to say it. ‘I love the kids and I wouldn’t change this life for anything, but sometimes I just miss the days when it was you and me, and no ring on my finger. It’s kind of like I got engaged to the whole country that day’.

‘They wish!’ Will says. ‘You’re allowed to feel like that without feeling guilty you know?’

‘I know’ I sigh. ‘I just…’

‘You just wish you were back there, before you had all of us to worry about’. William always knew how to finish my sentences.

I watched the children running, screaming as they chased each other, huge grins on their faces.

Charlotte runs up to me, holding something in her hand ‘I found a worm!’ she beams.

‘Well done princess!’ Will says bending down to look at it.

I think back to the woman I was ten years ago, walking into that room full of lights. Sweaty palms and scared to put a foot wrong, I had no idea of what was to come. 

But as I look at my family today, I know that I’d never go back, not really. I have everything I need right here.

2010

I gave my dress one more smoothing down, along with my hair.

There was a faint chatter in the room next door. William and I were being told who’s in there. Most of the names I’d never heard of, but would come to know. 

I take a deep breath and Will looks over to me.

‘I’m here’ he says. ‘We’re in this together’.

I smile and the doors open. William leads me into the room.

Before me is a wall of faces and cameras. A sight I will get used to seeing over the next decade. 

And like blinding stars, the flashes begin.

The end.

[nattspencer]

In case of boredom - Part 2

Missy x Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 (you’re here) / Part 3 - Complete

Summary: The reader was always intrigued by the Time Lady. When she jumps into the TARDIS, the readers decided to write a little novel to take her out of boredom, putting little annoying riddles as a password to each file.

A/N: English is not my first language, therefore I’m really sorry for any mistakes, let me know about them. I’m also very sorry for taking so long, I planned to post part 2 as the final part, but the whole file was already 7k+ words, so today I decided to split it in two. Part 3 won’t take that long to be released. Don’t forget to let me know your thoughts about this, it really motivates me.

Warnings: Super fluffy with tiny bits of angst

Word count: 3k

Not my GIF

     When you first started the book project, you never imagined that it would result in an almost constant flirting with an alien maniac, exceptionally on the most awkward moments. You still could remember when this happened for the first time, it was exactly the next day that she pinned you on the corridor, you were just sipping some tea entering quietly in the console room, in the corner, you saw Nardole babbling with Bill about some weird tech thing. Mr. Eyebrows, in another hand, was tingling his fingers on the ship’s control panel hoping to find somewhere interesting to go and Missy was at his side, intensely looking at a monitor with some wires scattered on the table, her sight soon fell over your figure and mischief popped up on her face. This couldn’t be good. 

      “Y/N, you really should drink this tea in another room, the way you’re clenching so deliciously this pretty lips of yours around this mug is really distracting me” She said with a smirk scanning you from tip to toe with her eagle eyes.       “Missy!” The Doctor warned with his raising eyebrows.       “Only me drinking a little tea it’s already distracting you, sweetie? You really must be in need, maybe, if you behave nicely, I can do you a little favor later” You winked slightly and left the room towards the kitchen, but you could see from your peripheral vision all the jaws dropping, no one expected your reaction to being like that. Soon you heard some steps coming behind you.       “Girl, where did all that boss energy came from?” Bill asked you giggling while she took a glass of water.       “First, shy people also can be sassy, second I always told you I am not as innocent as I look and more importantly third, she challenged me! I couldn’t let her embarrass me that easily, if she wants to play, then let’s play”       “Mate, she is a mass murderer, do you really wanna pick HER to flirt with?” She asked with an arched eyebrow.       “Considering we are constantly away traveling with aliens and both of us are lesbians which are not even a little attracted to each other, what other people would you suggest?” You both laugh.       “I admit we are not the ones with billions of options but still, really?”       “Well, I don’t think she is that bad, not anymore, I really do believe that there’s good in her, deep down there, she just needs to learn how to externalize it. Also, that’s not a flirt flirt, it’s a joke type flirt!”        “Y/N, she seriously suggested putting me on a brain dead state, and do you really think that she is GOOD?”       “I know the brain dead thing wasn’t very nice, but at least she tried to help, and as I said, she doesn’t know how to externalize it. Also, she never tried to get you killed again, did she? Just give her another chance, please? I think she is really trying, otherwise she would already flee a really long time ago”        “Fine, but I’m only doing it because I really trust in your abilities to read people, however, don’t expect me to suddenly treat her as my best friend, I will just be open in case she just want to talk to me as a decent being”        “That’s all I’m asking for” You smiled “See, you don’t judge me to try helping an intergalactic murder to be good and I don’t judge you for still thinking about a certain cute puddle”       “Hey! A puddle and a murder are really different things okay, and also, now that you put it out loud, what’s wrong with us?” You busted in guffaws. Soon, The Doctor called you two out to a new adventure, which you rushed into.       Your whole body was complaining to you when you came back to the blue box, all your muscles were sorely overused and you decided that you deserved a really long hot bath before feeding your Time Lady with a brand new book chapter and riddle. After your relaxing moment, you got your file and rushed to the library, but unlike the other days, it was not empty. Three heads could be seen around the laptop, still, none of them seemed to notice your presence.        “Was this always there in the computer?” The Doctor asked with frowned eyebrows.       “I don’t think so, it’s incomplete, and it really looks like something Y/N would write” Bill answered simply.       “She writes? And that well? I didn’t know that” Nardole confessed.       “Yeah, she is an amazing writer! Once I saw her writing and begged her to let me read since then she always showed me some of her work, I think she is just a bit shy about it”       “So you knew about this?” The Time Lord asked again       “No… She didn’t tell me about this one, I just found it by accident”        “So you’re telling us that probably we shouldn’t be reading this?” Nardole’s voice shook a bit.       “Yeah… maybe we shouldn’t…” Bill admitted with a guilty look.       “Actually” You said, making everyone’s head turn to you “There’s no problem for you to read it at all” You smiled and relief was painted on the three faces “Bill was also right, I am in fact a bit shy about my work, always tend to show to people in anonymous mode, however, she really made me gain confidence with her reactions” You said walking towards them.       “You’re a genius! You just didn’t realize that”        “Indeed a very talented young writer’ The ancient replied with a kind smile.       “Agreed” Nardole raised his two thumbs up.       “Thank you, I try my best” You giggled.       “Why didn’t you told me about this before?”        “Because I didn’t write that for you, actually, it was for someone else” You revealed shyly.       “Someone else?”       “She means me, pet” The Time Lady’s cold voice was suddenly heard and everyone turned glancing at her.        “You were secretly writing for Missy?” Bill was really confused.       “She was bored! And also very lonely! I couldn’t just sit down not doing nothing about it” You vehemently justified.       “Watch it kitty, you don’t want to make The Doctor jealous” She smiled wickedly “Also, I might say I’m really disappointed, I really do enjoy being exclusive, you’ll have to work harder”        “Good girls know how to share, Mistress, besides, now you have partners to discuss your theories with”        “I doubt that discussing with them would be any constructive” She answered with an arched eyebrow.       “Who knows” You shrugged “Maybe you’re wrong, maybe I am, or maybe that would make you see the plot from a different perspective, that maybe could make you get to the right answer”        “Don’t get jealous Missy, this might be fun” The Doctor teased.       “Fine, but you three better no be boring, or I will hide this computer and kidnap Y/N” She finally said, annoyed.       “Did you guys read it all?”        “Yeep, where is the next chapter?” Bill said excitedly.       “Alright, about the next chapter, there is a thin” Reluctance filled your voice.       “What thing?” Nardole asked.       “It needs to be unlocked, there’s a little riddle as the password and before you ask, I want to establish a rule, only Missy can solve them, alone, without any help. This whole thing was mainly created just to keep her busy, so I think it’s fair to keep that exclusively to her”        “It’s fine for me” Bill said and the others nodded agreeing with her. You could see a victorious smile rising on the Time Lady’s lips, she really enjoys being treated uniquely.        “Great! Now let me put the next file on the computer. We can read the next chapter tomorrow night after our usual universe walks when we are all tired and Missy would probably already have solved it” You glanced at the Time Lady with a suggestive look, and only you two knew that you were mocking her about the four days delay.       “One day it’s more than enough for me, poppet” She reassured with a threatening smile.       “I’m sure it is” You said finally putting the files on the right place “There it is, all yours, have fun, Mary Poppins”        “Mary Poppins? You’re getting bold, puppy” She said with a playful glance.       “What? Do you really think you’re the only one able to set nicknames?”        “Mr. Eyebrows is there to reassure what she said” Bill confirmed.       “Hey! I think we were over from the Mr. Eyebrows thing!” The Doctor exclaimed annoyed.       “We are never over from Mr. Eyebrows thing” Nardole said giggling.       “That’s new, I’ll include that to my personal vocabulary, feel honored Y/N”        “My pleasure”        “There’s a plot against me now?” The Time Lord said.       “Only to annoy you” Nardole uttered.       Since then, it became a routine and soon, you were already midway towards the end of the story. In the beginning, the post-reading reunions were kinda weird, it took a while to work your chemistry and put the pieces together, but eventually, it worked, and you didn’t know if you were relieved or worried, because they were getting closer to the right answer every time. Missy was often the one picked to read it out loud, and you were really surprised, but also very honored to know that she appreciated your tale so much that she would gladly read it twice. While they got to know the new events, you were away finishing the next chapter, only joining in when everything was set and done. Now you were all seated on the floor in a big odd circle, babbling around. Bill’s half-asleep head was resting on your lap, while you massaged her scalp.       “Well, the talking is really great, but I need to check on a little experiment that I’m doing in the lab, might blow up if I don't” Nadole said, lifting up.       “And I think I really should go to bed, but Y/N melted all my limbs” Laziness filled Bill’s voice.       “What can I do, I’m ace in doing massages”       “Oh, don’t be full of yourself, puppet, it doesn’t suit you” Missy teased.       “No need to get jealous, I can massage your scalp too if you want” You smiled “I just thought that if I get my hand anywhere near your hair it would result in a painful death”       “Quite true, don’t you dare dishevel my hair without my permission, however, I’ll wash it in a few moments, so I think I can have a trial of what you call massage when you’re free”       “Her hands does wonders, you’ll see” Bill pleased “I’m seriously thinking in just getting a pillow from the sofa and just sleep right here”        “Oh, not in a million years, you’ll gonna complain non stop later about how your back hurts, I’m taking you to your bed right now, young lady, let’s go” The Doctor said already getting up and extending his hands to Bill, who got on her feet lazily. Soon, they disappeared through the ship.        “Lap’s free, next customer, please” You joked tapping your thighs.       “You better be good, pet, I’m very caring towards my hair” She said laying down her head comfortably on your legs.       “Don’t worry, you deserve my very best” Your hands carefully untied her brown curls and started a pleasant massage on her scalp.       “I noticed what you did, you know” After some minutes she broke the silence. Her eyes were closed, and her face was more relaxed than you even saw.       “What do you mean?” You asked lightly.       “Your characters, they are related to us, aren’t they?”        “Yes, they are. Although, it was meant for you to find out”        “And you didn’t bother in telling me that bit?”        “Nah, I knew you would find it anyway” Her eyelids opened. Beautiful stunning blue eyes were staring at you with slightly dilated pupils “It was my way to try helping you”        “Um… cheeky. So that’s the way you see me? See the motivation behind my change?”       “Yeah, I think so. I suppose you and The Doctor are kinda the same in the end, both of you so very alone. He found comfort in us, companions, friends, but you, you’re too afraid of being hurt, too afraid to let someone in, and then suddenly they’re gone, so you found comfort in destroying things and people in a desperate attempt to fill up your superiority complex, doing whatever you want in order to actually feel something, actually like yourself, to feel greater, but I don’t think that it could fill you anymore… It got boring… So you thought about your oldest friend in the universe, the only one that would never truly leave you, and you knew that turning “good” and going by his terms was only one way to become friends with him again. What you didn’t expect, however, was that you grew kinda fond of the non-Gallifreyan part of the ship”

      “You really think that you’re clever, don’t you?” 

      “Well, I might not have the knowledge of a centuries-old Time Lord, but in terms of people, I know quite a bit. Other than a marvelous observer, back on the earth, I’m in the last year of Psychology college”

      “That explains quite a bit… So the post-reading reunions thing, was it all part of your plan? To make me belong?” She said sitting up lazily.

      “To be honest, I just figured that out along the way and hoped for the best. I’m not that good with plans, not in the way you are, I’m more the improviser type. Actually, I think we all are, you have to be if you’re traveling with a stupid old man” You shrugged and a soft smile painted your lips.

      “Thank you” Her voice was tiny, but you could see the fondness and gratitude behind those pale blue eyes, but also, there was a hint of fear, and then, you understood. 

      “You’re more than welcome, twisted Mary Poppins” You answered planting a light-loving kiss on her forehead “Now, you really should go to bed, I can see how much you enjoyed my massage” 

      “Yeah, you’re not that bad”

      “A compliment! That’s new. You really must be sleepy”

      “Oh, shut up!” You two giggled.

      A few moments later, you were in your room, alone, staring at the ceiling, lost in thoughts. You were really falling for Missy, and terribly fast. If you think mathematically, you could spend the rest of your life with her, but she would always have to face your loss at some point, and something tells you that not a lot of planets would like to suffer her rage. Probably, the best choice would be to just stand by her side her as a friend, never truly telling her your feelings, and never really connecting the way you wished. Loving a Time Lord was loving the stars themselves, too big and too flaming hot to get close. Furthermore, you couldn’t imagine her falling back for you since you’re just a silly brief human.

      One day, The Doctor decided that it was time to test how Missy would behave outside the ship and between other people, no distress calls, no danger, just a normal calm place to start with baby steps. Of course, a companion was needed to fulfill her simple task, visit a local fair, and walk someone through the alien stuff, very Doctor-ish indeed. She could take all three of you but he didn’t want to push her this hard, so Mr. Eyebrows asked if you could go with the Time Lady since you are quite close to her, and you agreed right away. Quickly, you two were stepping out of the TARDIS and started to wander off around the tents, while the Time Lord seated comfortably in front of the monitor eating crisps.

      “Those ones are sonic mines, well, they were, all junk now. But you wouldn’t like to meet one of them when they blow, they disrupt your internal organic stability while stir up the exterior environment” Missy explains 

      “Sounds painful”

      “Nah, it’s so fast that you barely have time to feel” She replies simply when something catches her attention “Oh!! Orphan 89 jewels! What a nice planet that was!” Missy’s excited voice was heard while she ran towards an old tent.

      “Really?” The two of you now were staring the shining ornaments

      “Yes, polite people, awesome beaches, three suns that turned the sky purple when they set, also four moons and a very starry sky in the night”

      “What happened?”

      “Didn’t you get it?” An evil smile danced on her lips “I said polite people, and polite people are always boring” 

      “You destroyed the planet, didn’t you?”

      “Old days, old faces… I wasn’t this nice all the times you know” She shrugged and resumed walking aimlessly.

      “Did you regret it?” You asked with a tiny voice, almost scared of the answer

      “Hearing their screams were once very satisfactory, but now… now I’m not so sure” Missy admitted avoiding your gaze. You walked side by side while an awkward silence took place, and then, when your eyes glanced at an area filled with something that really looked like snow, you had an idea.

      “Run with me” You broke the silence

      “What?” She frowned

      “I said: Run. With. Me” Your orbs were full of mischief 

      “But you don’t even know the surroundings, we might get lost”

      “That’s quite the objective, honey, come on!” 

      “Are you completely bonkers?”

      “Whoops, I think you’re getting contagious” Missy cracked a little genuine smile, and you couldn’t be more proud. She opened her mouth to protest again when you immediately  said with pedant’s eyes “Trust me”

       “’m so gonna regret this… If The Doctor ever get cross about it I’m blaming you, little girl”

      “Blame is on me” You raised your hands in surrender “Now, let’s go?” You extend your hand and she catches it right away with a tiny authentic smile painting her lips, your feet begin to run.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Promises Not Kept Part 19

Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.

Part 19: The Changretta situation is resolved and Leah feels ready to start living life again. 

          “Blow the wind blow.”

           Click click.

           “Swift and low.”

           Click click.

           “Blow the wind over the ocean.”

           Click click click click.

           Leah paused singing and looked over at Tommy. He had been brooding in the corner since they returned from the fight. He shied from her touch and had gone completely silent. Yet he wouldn’t leave the small bedroom. Normally, in Warwickshire, if he was in such a mood he would wander the grounds. Circling back and forth around to the stables, the pastures, inside upstairs into Grace’s room. Back out onto the lawn and towards the stables again.

           But in Small Heath, after the loss of Arthur, he refused to leave Leah and Charlie’s side. And he was so agitated that he couldn’t sit still. His gun was in his hand, spinning the barrel around and around. The clicking noise, accompanied with Tommy’s intense presence was inhibiting Charlie’s ability to fall asleep. He kept tossing and turning, his eyes blinking tiredly but never closing for very long. But Tommy didn’t notice and continued the fidget.

           “Uh…breakers rolling to the coastline.” Leah’s voice shook and she reached for Charlie’s small hand. He latched onto her hand and yawned. “Bringing ships to harbor.”

           Click click click click.

           Leah swallowed and gathered Charlie into her arms. “Is Finn still downstairs?” She asked.

           Tommy nodded wordlessly.

           “Maybe Charlie’ll sleep better in his room then.” She stood and went to bring the exhausted child into the next room. There he wouldn't be disturbed by his father's grief.

           Her husband reacted like a lightning bolt. He kicked the chair back and slammed a hand on the door before she could even reach for the handle. “He stays in here.” His words were ice cold, colder than the frigid blue of his eyes.

           Leah instinctually tightened her hold on Charlie in shock. He'd been short with her before but never had he been so abrasive. “He can’t fall asleep in here, I think it would be better if he had a quieter…”

           “Neither of you are leaving my fucking sight.”

           Charlie snuffled and whined against her shoulder. Tommy's angry tone shaking him. “Mumma.” His fingers wrapped around her blouse collar.

           She gently rocked him, trying to reassure him he was safe. “Tommy, he’s exhausted and you’re keeping him awake. He’ll be fine in the other room.”

           “Don’t fucking argue with me, not now.” He demanded and refused to move his hand from the door. "Of all the times you want to fucking argue with me?"

           Charlie whimpered and ducked his face. "Mumma!" He cried louder.

           “You’re scaring him, Thomas.” She scolded quietly. There was no way she was about to have a full-blown argument in front of the boy. “I’ll have Polly sit with him in Finn’s room.”

           Tommy’s jaw clenched but he could see that Charlie was cowering away from him. After a brief second of clarity, he removed his hand and stepped away from the door. Leah left the room before he changed his mind. She brought Charlie into Finn’s room and got him tucked in again.

           The little boy rubbed his eyes and pouted. “Daddy’s mad.”

           “No, poppet, he’s just stressed.” She smoothed the quilt over him, making sure he was warm enough and handed him his Teddy bear.

           “Wha’s that?” Charlie hugged the ted close, partially burying his face in the curly fur.

           Leah chewed on her lip. She wasn’t sure how to define the word. “It’s…it’s when you’re very sad and worried.”

           “Oh.” Charlie yawned again and could hardly keep his eyes open any longer. “Will he be happy soon?”

           “I hope so.” She whispered and kissed his forehead. “Now it's time to sleep. I'll stay and sing until you're dreaming." With a promise, she began singing again. "Gulls against the morning sunlight,” She brushed her hand over his blond hair and started the lullaby over again. No matter how many times, she would sing until he was asleep. “Flying off to freedom…Blow the wind, blow. Swift and low…”

~~~~~~~~~

           After Charlie fell asleep and she got Polly to sit up with him in Finn’s room, Leah returned to Tommy’s room. He had sat down on the bed but the gun was still in his hand. His thumb spinning the barrel. There was murder in his eyes. An obsessed fixation on getting retribution. Avenging both of his fallen brothers.

           Leah walked over to him and reached for the gun. He tensed up, his shoulder locking and pulling away from her. “Tommy, please just put it down.”

           Instead of facing her, he glanced over his shoulder and drew back the lace curtains. There were men flooding the lane. Soldiers armed and prepared to die for him. But Luca wouldn’t come tonight. No, there was already a plan. Tommy had constructed it. The Italians merely assumed they were the ones in control.

           Relenting, he handed Leah the gun. She made sure the chamber was empty and placed it on the dresser. Curiously, she opened the drawer that she had explored the night after their first date. She pushed aside the expensive ties and found his tags from the war. She traced his name in the tarnished circle of metal. “Why did you keep this but not any of your medals?” She turned and showed him the tag. “Ada said you were decorated.”

           He cleared his throat and pulled out a cigarette. “Didn’t want to lose my name. They stamped that and gave it to me before I left. Every time I could get some sleep, I checked to make sure it was the same. That it hadn’t changed. That’s all I had to remember the man I once was.”

           Leah nodded and placed the tag on the dresser next to the gun. “Tommy, I changed my name for you.” She took the cigarette from between his fingers and took a drag. He reached for it back but she tossed it into the ashtray. Looping her arms around his neck, she straddled his lap. Planted right in front of him, he didn’t have much of an option but to look at her.

           The touch seemed to relax him slightly and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

           “I’ve gone from Leah Ward to Leah Robinson, to Leah Ward-Robinson. Now I write Leah Shelby and I will do so until the day I die. I’ll never introduce myself any differently.”

           He lifted a hand to comb through her blonde hair.

           “Do you trust the woman who changed her name for you?”

           He nodded ever so slightly, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. To him, there wasn’t much rhyme or reason for her question. But he answered it honestly.

           “Then trust that you will win this war. You will come home to me and you’ll be free. That bastard won’t take any more lives. He’s the last person to die in this battle.”

           Tommy’s thumb grazed over her bottom lip. The amount of tension had been building up in the hour or so after the fight. And he was about to hit a boiling point.

           “Charlie fall asleep?”

           Leah nodded. “He was so tired, he went out pretty quickly.”

           “Will you be able to stay quiet?” His eyebrow raised.

           Leah’s pupils dilated and she immediately picked up on what he was implying. She mindlessly nodded again. Her eyes fixed on his lips.

           “You sure?”

           “Yes.” She breathed.

           Tommy picked her up and placed her on the desk, pushing the solid piece of furniture against the wall. He grabbed the nape of her neck and kissed her forcefully.

           Leah moaned and her knees tipped open so Tommy could step between them. “Tom…” She gasped out when he pulled away from her.

           “Sh…” He whispered and nibbled on her lower lip.

           She whimpered and knotted her fingers in his hair.

           Tilting back slightly he took in her flushed face. “Listen to me.” He commanded in a deep voice. “You’re mine, Mrs. Shelby. You’re mine and mine alone.”

           Leah’s lips parted and she tried to pull him in for another kiss. But he kept a hold on the back of her neck. She pouted. “And who do you belong to?” She replied.

           The scent of her perfume and her warmth had Tommy reeling. “Yours.”

           “Then show me.”

~~~~~~~~

           “Daddy…mumma.” The next morning, Charlie nudged open the door. Tommy was awake but Leah was still fast asleep, curled up under his arm. Luckily, she’d donned Tommy’s shirt before they went to bed so there was no reason to turn Charlie away.

           “C’mere.” Tommy smiled and beckoned him over.

           His son crawled up onto the bed and immediately went to wedge himself between Tommy and Leah. But he stopped him. “Don’t wake mumma.” He picked Charlie up and set him down on the other side so he didn’t disturb Leah. “Didya sleep in Uncle Finn’s room last night?”

           “Yeah,” Charlie answered quietly and cuddled up to Tommy’s chest. A little hand stretched over to touch Leah’s shoulder. Content and feeling safe, the little boy smiled and closed his eyes again.

           He gently rubbed his back, holding his son and wife close. It was a moment of peace before the inevitable storm that was due.

~~~~~~

           If Leah were in the right state of mind, she might’ve noticed the stark differences between John and Arthur’s funerals. Polly, Linda, and Tommy all acted solemn, but there was something slightly off. But Leah didn’t pick up on any of it. Instead, she joined the mourners in the field. Ready to send off another Shelby in smoke.

           After placing a flower on the ornately decorated vardo, she stood beside Tommy, wrapping a comforting arm around him.

           He kissed her temple. “S’alright.”

           “Tom!” Someone called out, alerting something was wrong.

           Leah looked across the field to see an older woman she didn’t recognize. It could’ve been a distant relative or perhaps someone from another Traveler family come to pay their respects. But this woman was holding a white flag as she approached the funeral slowly.

           Tommy slipped away from Leah and held out a hand to put everyone at ease. “Let her come.” Then he addressed the woman. “Until we’re finished.” He spoke cryptically before returning to Leah’s side.

           The woman backed up a few steps and waited. Her eyes were cold on the group of mourners. Her distaste for each and every one of them was clear. But her body language was passive. There would be no attack brought on by this woman.

           Still, it raised alarms for Leah. “Who is that?” She whispered to her husband.

           “Luca Changretta’s mother.” He answered honestly.

           “What?” She hissed in response, her guard instantly going up again. “What is she doing here and why did you let her even come near?”

           He hushed her softly. “She’s not looking to harm anyone, merely looking to settle a vendetta.”

~~~~~~~~

           Charlie banged on the window with his open palm. “Outside!”

           Leah sighed and scooped him up. “Not now, poppet. We need to stay inside.” She nuzzled his cheek but the little boy squirmed in her arms. He’d been cooped up all day under the orders of Tommy. The man couldn’t risk anything until his plan went through.

           “Wanna go outside!” The famous Shelby temper was beginning to show as she brought him away from the window.

           Leah could reassure Tommy that he was in control but she had to face facts. There was no telling what was to come. Would a bullet come flying through the window, hitting Charlie? Would men break down the door and assault them? Had they laid an explosive somewhere and a certain movement would trigger it?

           Being inside all day had begun to wear Leah down as well as she was only left with Charlie and her anxious thoughts.

           “C’mon, love, I’ll make you lunch-”

           The door burst open and Leah jolted. The fears that had been weighing her mind down jumped to life. She shielded Charlie but only for a moment until Tommy’s familiar voice called out.

           “Leah?”

           She exhaled in relief and set down Charlie so the little boy could run to his father. Steadying her racing heart, she picked up the book she had been reading out loud to try and entertain Charlie. She came out into the hall and startled.

           Arthur was standing in the doorway with Tommy. He smiled sheepishly. “Hello, sister.”

           Leah dropped the book and froze. “Wh-how? You said-”

           “I’ll explain everything,” Tommy promised. “But for now, we can pack our things for Arrow House.”

           Two more shocks hit Leah. There was a small cut on his neck from an obvious struggle and he had said they were able to return to Warwickshire. “I don’t understand…” She couldn't decide what to ask first. How in the world his dead brother was standing at the door? What had happened since he'd left that morning? Were they safe in Warwickshire?

           He walked over to kiss her cheek. “It’s over.”

           “Over.” She repeated dumbfounded.

           A small smile on his face told her everything. The man hell bent on destroying the Shelby family was dead. Never had Leah been relieved another human was dead. “Once we’re back at Arrow House, I’ll make arrangements for the wedding.” He tucked a stray curl behind her ear, his blue eyes fond on her. "And we'll have the family we're meant to have."

           Leah let out a noise of joyful disbelief. “Really?” She threw her arms around him.

           Tommy lifted her off the ground, supporting her with strong arms wrapped around her waist. He felt like the door of the jail cell had opened and all of them were finally released. Able to step out into the sun again, leave Birmingham without fear, and return to a normal existence.

           Or as normal as life could be for them. Because Tommy was still looking forward. Looking towards the possibilities, the opportunities, the places he could claim. The thrones that were up for grabs.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​ @kimmietea​ @karmezii​ @enrapturedbythemoon​ @vampgirl1997​ @tarafaithe​ 

Tag list: @shelbyblinded​

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[ibelieveinharrystyles]

Chapter Two: London Calling?

Forever? Masterlist

25th December 2015

“Merry Christmas Anne!” Ashley called out as her and her mum entered the Twist family home, the smell of Anne’s homemade nut roast wafting towards them as they hung the coats up. 

“Ashley! Linda! Merry Christmas to you both!” Anne greeted them both with a hug, her familiar scent was sweet, with an added floral touch that Ashley didn’t recognise.

“Is that a new perfume Anne? It smells absolutely delightful.” Ashley asked as she took off her battered converse, she respected Anne too much to wear them in her house.

“Yes my love! Harry bought it for me, we did our stocking presents this morning and we’re just setting the table for dinner.” Anne told her.

“Sounds absolutely perfect!” Linda exclaimed as Anne led them into the kitchen, perfectly decorated as always, Harry stood at the island in the middle of the kitchen chopping a mountain of carrots, “You’ve got him well trained haven’t you?” 

“Linda! My favourite Hanson!” Harry cried, placing his knife on the chopping board as he ran towards her, wrapping his arms as he swayed her from side to side. 

“Look at you Harry, you’ve grown so much since I last saw you,” Linda said, taking a step back to look at Harry properly.

“Mum you literally saw him six months ago.” Ashley muttered, rolling her eyes at her persistent mother.

“Don’t listen to her Linda, she’s just jealous.” Harry told her, causing Ashley to stick her middle finger up at him, “If it’s alright with you Linda, I’m going to say hello to my second favourite Hanson.” Harry sauntered towards Ashley, “Merry Christmas!” He cried, stretching his arms out, before enveloping her in a hug, the itchy fabric of his over the top Christmas jumper.

“Merry Christmas you little shit,” Ashley whispered, so as not to let her mum or Anne hear.

“Can I get you ladies anything to drink? I’ve got wine, beer, lemonade or just water.” Anne told them as she retrieved a bottle of red wine from the fridge.

“Well as it’s Christmas I’ll have a glass of wine please.” Linda told her.

“Just water for me please, I wasn’t feeling too well last night, I’m not sure alcohol is going to help that.” Ashley said softly, “Are you doing your ginger biscuits Anne?” 

“I made some yesterday, why do you ask lovely?” 

“I just thought I could smell them, I remember the smell from when Harry and I were little.” Ashley told her.

Dinner was in full swing and Gemma and Robin had now joined the group, to some it might seem unorthodox for Ashley and Linda to spend Christmas with another family but since the Christmas of 2008 when their oven stopped working Anne insisted they came over as they had lots of food spare and since then it had become a bit of a tradition, alternating between houses each year. The room was full of laughter and the warmth from the open fire tickled their skin, the sound of the Michael Buble album filled the room. “So Harry what have you got planned for 2016?” Linda asked, piling carrots onto her plate.

“I’ve got a few things lined up, I’m looking forward to it, I never thought the idea of not having my day planned for me would be so exciting.” Harry told her, fiddling with his paper crown.

“How about you Ashley? I know you’re on a gap year, but have you decided what to do after that?” Robin asked her.

“I’m quite interested in radio, I’ve applied for an internship at Capital in London, Harry gave me their contact details, and when we went down for the boys’ show in London I had an interview, and I’ve been offered a place, starting in the new year.” Ashley told them, the only other person around the table who knew was Linda, she had meant to tell Harry, there just never seemed to be a right time.

“That’s amazing Ash!” Harry exclaimed, “So you’ll be moving to London then?” 

“I’ve got the money dad left me in his will, I think this is the sort of thing he’d want me to use it for, to get myself a small flat.” Ashley didn’t like talking about what happened to her dad, she was only ten when he passed away so she didn’t really understand at the time, he was diagnosed with cancer when she was little, and in his last few months it became increasingly worse.

“He’d be so proud of you poppet.” Anne assured her, taking hold of her hand from across the table.

The meal was finished and Anne stood in the kitchen preparing dessert whilst everyone discussed whether to play monopoly or family fortunes first. Ashley felt herself losing concentration in the conversation, she felt her palms become clammy, she began to realise it was a recurrence of what had happened the night before. She excused herself and made her way to the bathroom, making it in time to throw up in the toilet rather than all over Anne’s bathroom floor, she slumped against the wall, knowing it was likely she’d probably throw up again. The tiles on the wall were cold against her warm skin, she stood up, splashing cold water on her skin. “Ash you alright in there?” Gemma asked from the other side of the door, Ashley unlocked the door, letting Gemma in, “You look a bit peaky lovely, are you alright?”

“I think I had something dodgy to eat last night, I was sick last night as well.” Ashley explained.

“Mum told me you could smell ginger.” Gemma replied, sitting on the floor next to Ashley.

“What’s they got to do with anything?” Ashley asked.

“Ash when was your last period?” 

“I’m not exactly regular, but i’d say it was almost eight weeks ago. Wait, you don’t think?” 

“You might be pregnant.” Gemma whispered, Ashley rested her head in her hands.

“Why is this happening? Why now?” Tears rolled down her cheeks, as far as she was concerned she wasn’t ready to be a mum, she was only just an adult.

“Hey, we don’t know that you’re actually pregnant lovely,” Gemma told her softly as she held her tight, rubbing her back gently, “I might have a test somewhere, do you want to do it now?” Ashley said nothing, she just nodded, “Let's get this over and done with,” she whispered.

Ashley had never known three minutes to take so long to pass, she sat on the toilet biting at her nails, the timer on Gemma’s phone went off, indicating that the three minutes were up. “Do you want me to look at it first?” Gemma asked.

“I think I’ve got to do it, it’s pretty clear I’d be bringing up a baby by myself, for that I should be able to stand on my own two feet.” She wobbled as she stood up, taking the test in her hands. She took a deep breath and looked down at it, she knew what it meant, she turned towards Gemma, “two blue lines. It’s positive.” her voice wobbled terribly as she broke down in tears.

“It’s gonna be alright, we’re going to get through this together, we all love and care about you immensely, whatever you decide, whatever’s best for you.” Gemma assured her, cradling her in her arms, “Do you want me to get Harry or your mum?”

“You can’t tell Harry, not yet, not today, I’ll tell mum soon, just not now.” 

“Alright, we’ll go back downstairs when you’re ready.” The two girls were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Are you okay Ash? Can I come in?” Harry asked from the other side of the door.

Ashley shoved the test in her pocket and wiped the tears from her cheeks, “Yeah come in.”

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Gemma made her way out of the bathroom, “She’s not feeling too well, look after her.” she instructed Harry.

He held out his hands to pull her up from where she was sitting on the floor “I’m going to run you a warm bath with any bubbles of your choice, then we’ll watch a film in my old bedroom, I don’t want to subject you to games night if you’re feeling ill.”

After a wonderfully long soak in the bath Ashley changed into the joggers and hoodie Harry had left out for her, she tied her damp hair up on top of her head and made her way into Harry’s room. He’d created a proper relaxed environment for her, the room was lit by nothing but fairy lights that were strung around the ceiling. “Love Actually or Home Alone?” Harry asked as she climbed into the bed.

“Love Actually, you know how much I love Colin Firth,” she chuckled, snuggling up under the duvet like a little kid.

“Don’t know why I even asked.” Harry replied, putting the DVD in the TV before joining Ashley in the bed, she snuggled into his chest as he wrapped his arm around her, stroking her arm gently. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your Christmas Harry,” Ashley whispered.

“Don’t be daft, I love spending time with you, if I’m honest with you I’ve spent so much time in other people’s company over the past five years, I’d much rather be up here with you watching cheesy Christmas movies.” 

An hour into the film Harry looked down at Ashley, she was sound asleep, she looked two peaceful, so he didn’t dare disturb her, he knew she was unwell and didn’t want to make her feel worse. He pulled his arms from where he’d been holding her, getting out of bed and pulling the duvet up so she was properly covered. He turned off the TV and all the fairy lights, “Merry Christmas my love.” Harry whispered, placing a kiss on top of her head before making his way back downstairs.

The smell of bacon stirred Ashley from her deep sleep, she peered around at the bedroom that wasn’t hers, realising she was in Harry’s bed. She slipped out of bed, making her way downstairs to the kitchen where Harry and Gemma sat eating breakfast. “Morning,” Ashley chimed as she sat beside Harry at the kitchen table.

“You feeling better?” Gemma asked, prompting Harry to get up and make up another bacon sandwich.

“Yeah, I slept like a baby.” She told her, stretching out before pouring herself a cup of tea, “You didn't say anything did you?”

“It’s not for me to say, you can tell him when you’re ready, but I know my brother, he’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Harry asked, placing the bacon sandwich in front of Ashley.

“You.” Ashley replied, sticking her tongue out at him, “When do you fly out to LA?” 

“As soon as he can I reckon.” Gemma winked at her.

“Oh yeah we wouldn’t want to keep Kendall waiting would we?” Ashley teased, Harry crossing his arms across his chest like a grumpy child, “Oh we’re only messing H, if you’re happy that’s all that matters.” Harry continued to keep up the grumpy teenager pretense, “If you don’t give me a smile I will sit on you,” Harry glanced at her suspiciously, “You leave me no choice.” She stood up from her seat and plonked herself on his lap, he uncrossed his arms and wrapped them around her tightly, her head squishing against his bare chest that poked through the gap in his white dressing gown.

“You win.” He told her, “You always will.”

[jaybear1701]

Apologies for the delay in posting the last part of this MFSWeek story. Hope you’ve enjoyed it!

Anacostia is far from pleased with the plan, prompting her to have a word with Raelle and Abigail. Perhaps “word” is a bit of an understatement. They’re speaking so loudly that Scylla can make out their muffled conversation even from the other side of the glass wall as she approaches Anacostia’s office.

“And if the killer targets her?” Anacostia paces behind her desk, agitation etched in the rigidity of her shoulders and the tense set of her jaw. “What then, Collar?”

“Then I’d protect her!” Raelle snaps, and Scylla’s heart stills.

“You can barely protect yourself,” Anacostia shoots back. The barb hits its mark, dead center, and Raelle visibly flinches, but she doesn’t look away.

Scylla seizes the opportunity to interrupt and raps her knuckles against the door, drawing the attention of all three women. Abigail’s as stoic as ever, lips set in a firm line, while Raelle soften when she sees her. Anacostia’s chest rises and falls on a heaved sigh, and she beckons her inside.

Scylla enters and the tension is heavy, thicker than it seemed from the outside. She stands next to Raelle, whose frustration radiates off her.. 

"Dr. Ramshorn." Anacostia's voice is back to normal decibel levels, though still strained. "Collar and Bellweather have just informed me of their less than ideal course of action. I'd like to get your input."

“I’m not afraid, if that’s what you’re asking,” Scylla says.

“You’re putting yourself in danger,” Anacostia replies. “That’s not something to take lightly.” 

"I understand your concern, Sergeant. But with all due respect, we shouldn’t let emotions cloud our judgment.” Anacostia’s gaze is piercing, and Scylla can practically feel Abigail’s curious sidelong glance. Raelle stands frozen in place, eyes forward.

Scylla pushes forward. “Innocent people are dying, and we have a chance to stop it. The benefits far outweigh the risk.”

Nostrils flaring as she forcefully exhales, Anacostia stretches her neck up at the ceiling. “You keep her safe.” The glare she fixes on Raelle and Abigail could puncture steel. “Or your ass is grass. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they say in unison.

“Get out before I change my mind.” They move to leave. “Except you, Ramshorn, I’d like a word.”

Scylla avoids eye contact with Raelle and Abigail when they walk past. The door closes with a quiet click.

“Don’t you think you were being a little harsh?” Scylla says when they’re alone.

“I don’t like any of this,” Anacostia wearily drops into her desk chair.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

Anacostia pinches the bridge of her nose. “This isn’t a joke, Scylla. If anything happens to you…”

Scylla knows all too well that Anacostia’s fear stems from the losses she’s faced. It’s what bonded them together all those years ago, when Scylla was too young and too reckless in the wake of tragedy. It’s why Scylla kept others at arm’s length, erecting walls around her heart. But Scylla’s done letting that fear dictate her life. 

“Nothing will happen to me,” Scylla reassures her. 

“You don’t know that.”

“No, but I can handle myself. As can your detectives.”

Anacostia inhales slowly, and exhales. She looks like she wants to argue some more, but also knows it's futile when Scylla's set her mind to something. “At the first sign of trouble, you’re out. Deal?”

“Deal.”

 ***

 Tally takes care of everything. She contacts the groups on Scylla’s behalf, submits all the necessary proofs of lineage, and eventually secures an invitation for a meet and greet with the Associated Daughters and Sons of Early American Witches. The group congregates at the Salem Witch House, a plain yet severe looking building with dark gray clapboard siding, diamond-paned windows, and a steeply pitched roof that accentuates the three triangular shapes integrated in the home’s facade. 

Raelle drives Scylla to the meeting and idles the car just outside. Scylla knows she has nothing to be worried about. But despite her previous bravado, she’s still nervous, hands so cold she’s lost all feeling in her fingertips. Her left knee bounces as she looks out the passenger-side window.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Raelle rests her hand on top of Scylla’s knee to calm her jitters. The warmth of palm seeps through the fabric of Scylla’s dress pants.

“I’m fine.” Scylla tries to sound convincing. “I’ve just never infiltrated anything before.”

Raelle’s fingers tighten around her knee in a gentle squeeze. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know.” She covers Raelle’s hand with her own. “Listen, about what Anacostia said... She went a little too far”

“Maybe she didn’t,” Raelle breathes out as she looks out into the street.

“Hey.” With her free hand, Scylla gently grasps Raelle’s chin and turns her gaze back toward her. “I trust you.”

Lips quirking up in a small smile, Raelle takes Scylla’s hand and presses a kiss to her palm. “Bells and I will just be down the street if you need anything. Okay?”

“Okay.” Scylla nods and steps out of the car. 

Gathering her courage, she walks up a cobblestone path toward the structure that once served as the home of Jonathan Corwin, one of the more prominent judges during the Witch Trials, according to Tally’s reports. Steeped in such terrible history, an ominous aura surrounds it. And while, logically, Scylla knows that witches and spirits aren’t real--or, at least, not scientifically proven--goosebumps still prickle up her arms. 

When she enters, she’s immediately greeted by a tall and imposing woman, who’s hair is pulled back in a single braid that accentuates her sharp cheekbones. 

“You must be Scylla,” she says. “I’m Sarah Alder. We exchanged emails.” Her handshake is firm and steady.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Scylla says as she follows Sarah through the narrow halls of the main floor. 

“I’m glad you were able to make it.” They bypass several rooms filled with 17th century artifacts, some real, some replicated, ranging from metal plates and cutlery to items allegedly used by witches, such as clay “witch bottles” for keeping evil spirits at bay and doll-like “poppets” that represent their “victims.”

Before long, they enter a sitting room in the back with a large stone hearth and a wooden long table pushed against one wall, covered in various letters and other papers, yellow and tattered with age. About a dozen or so association members are gathered, seated on fold-out chairs arranged in a circle. A blur of introductions and awkward small talk ensues. 

Scylla already knows she won’t be able to remember everyone, but she takes particular note of Gerald, a veterinarian who apparently prefers to be called by his (bizarre) nickname, “Witchfather;” a jovial pediatrician with red hair named Berryessa; an older Asian dentist named Nessa; and a man named Porter, about Scylla’s age, who works as a prison counselor. Porter, in particular, seems oddly familiar, but she can’t quite place why. 

They’re all eager to speak about their ancestors, and Scylla smiles politely and does her best to keep up with their questions about her ties to Sarah Cloyce. She’ll have to thank Tally later for the primer on her predecessor.

“One of the lucky few who got away,” Berryessa comments.

“They’re actually more common than you might think,” Nessa adds. 

Scylla makes a mental note of their interest as the conversation continues to ebb and flow, eventually turning to the more mundane, administrative aspects of running the group. 

“I apologize that you’re not able to meet more of our brothers and sisters. I’m afraid our attendance numbers have been dwindling of late,” Sarah says.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Scylla says. “Any particular reason why?” 

Silence falls around the room, thick and uncomfortable. 

Gerald smoothes down his graying beard with his thumb and forefinger. “Dwindling interest in history, I suppose.”

Berryessa leans forward, voice dropping as if she’s sharing a secret. “It’s so bad this year that we haven’t even sold all our tickets to the gala.”

“The gala?” Scylla asks.

“The High Atlantic Charity Gala this Saturday,” Nessa answers. “We participate every year. All proceeds are donated to Salem’s historical sites.”

“You should join us,” Porter speaks up. “We could spare a ticket, right, Sarah?” 

“You’re more than welcome, Scylla,” Sarah agrees. “We can send you the details.”

Scylla shakes her head. “Oh, I don’t know…”

“Please,” Sarah says. “We insist.”.

“Then, I’ll see you there,” Scylla smiles and Porter’s cheeks flush. 

By the end of the meeting, Scylla’s exhausted. She’s not sure she has anything of substance for the case, but she at least has a few names for the detectives to investigate. Relief washes over her when she finds Raelle waiting for her outside, leaning against the hood of the car. And all Scylla wants to do is steal a kiss when she opens the passenger-side door. 

“So, how’d it go?”

“Good,” Scylla smiles, giving into her desire and leaning in to press a chaste kiss along the scar on Raelle’s cheek. “Do you want to be my date on Saturday night?”

 ***

 “I don’t like this,” Anacostia grumbles as Tally outfits Scylla with a “wire” beneath her black dress. “Have I mentioned this already?”

“Only about three dozen times,” Scylla says, her dress half unzipped, the top hanging loosely around her waist “What’s a few dozen more?”

They’re crammed in the back of an unmarked surveillance truck, discreetly parked a few blocks from the gala at the Salem Witch Museum. 

“It’ll be fine, Sarge,” says Abigail, already mic’d up and ready to go in her own evening gown, its vinyl bodice dark and shiny. “You said it yourself. The more eyes and ears we have in there, the better.”

“We’ll see and hear everything in ‘witch’ central.” Tally carefully straps a miniscule microphone and transmitter around Scylla’s waist, and Scylla instinctively jumps at the cold press of the electronics against her skin. “Sorry, all done.”

She pulls her dress back up, pleased that the wire is perfectly hidden beneath its sequins, arranged in a deep v-shape in the sheer mesh of her backless dress. 

When she’s done, Tally hands her a pair of large hoop earrings. “There’s a camera embedded in one of these. Try to keep your head steady, if you can.”

Scylla nods and she puts them in, surprised at how light they feel despite the added technology. 

“How do I look?” Scylla asks when she’s finished.

“Like your dress could use more fabric,” Anacostia mutters while Abigail lets out a low whistle.  

“Rae’s gonna be beside herself,” Tally comments.

“What?” Anacostia head snaps toward Tally. 

“Nothing!”

Anacostia frowns at her watch in agitation. “And just where the hell is Collar?” 

“Said she needed to get something.” Tally slides into a chair, swiveling toward three different computer screens to pull up the feeds from the cameras on Raelle, Scylla, and Abigail. “I strapped her up earlier.” The first two clearly display the interior of the van, while the third shows someone  approaching the rear of the truck and reaching out a hand to knock on the door..

“Speak of the devil,” Abigail mutters. She swings it open and glances at Scylla. “You ready?”

“Ready,” she answers, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach.

Anacostia places a hand on her arm, stopping her before she can hop out. “Just remember to be careful, all right?” 

“Don’t worry,” Scylla pats Anacostia’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’ll be around a long time to prematurely age you.”

“You better.”

Scylla carefully hops out of the back with a helping hand from Abigail, breath catching in her throat when her eyes land on Raelle, who’s holding a single lilac-colored rose in her hands. Her hair’s out of their usual braids, and hangs loose and soft.  She’s dressed in a sharp black suit, sleeves scrunched up to her elbows. The plunging neckline of her flesh-colored blouse gives the illusion that she’s not wearing anything underneath her jacket. Scylla forces herself not to stare.

Raelle, however, doesn’t have similar qualms. Her eyes drink in Scylla from head to foot and, for once, seems speechless. “Wow, you look…” 

“You clean up nicely, Detective,” Scylla says when she finds her voice again.

“Even I’m shocked,” Abigail comments, eyebrows raised.

Flipping off Abigail with one hand, Raelle hands the rose to Scylla with the other. “This is for you.”

Scylla twirls the smooth stem between her fingers. “Thank you.” She brings the petals to her nose and inhales its sweet scent.

“You two are nauseating,” Abigail says with mock indignation.

“I should probably leave this here.” Scylla turns back around to Anacostia, who’s scowling from the back of the van, and Tally, who unabashedly grins.

“Does it look like we have water and a vase in here?” Anacostia grouses.

“Don’t worry,” Tally assures her and takes the rose. “We’ll keep it safe.” 

Raelle offers Scylla her arm, and Scylla links her own into the crook of Raelle’s elbow. And if she happens to move closer to Raelle, well, she can justify it from the chill in the air.

 ***

 The gala’s in full swing when they pass through the arched double doors of the brownstone-and-brick museum, which reminds Scylla of a strange hybrid between a castle and a church. The main floor’s been cleared of most of its exhibits, giving the popular tourist trap an open, almost ballroom-like atmosphere for the High Atlantics to mingle and dance and drink their way into spending thousands of dollars on early settlement artifacts.

Raelle’s hand rests on the small of Scylla’s back as they make their way through the crowds, warm and steady, and doesn’t remove it until Abigail introduces Scylla to her mother, Salem’s chief of police. She’s as stern and regal as she appears in televised press conferences, perhaps even more so. Many other Bellweathers are also in attendance, including Abigail’s cousin, Charvel, and her fiancé, Ciro Hood.   

“Dr. L’Amara speaks very highly of you, Dr. Ramshorn,” Petra says when they shake hands. “And I have to say we’ve been very impressed with your work.”

“Thank you, Chief,” Scylla says, flushing slightly from the compliment and the proud smile Raelle beams her way. “It’s an honor to work with Dr. L’Amara and for an excellent police department.”

“Maybe we can make it permanent.” Petra accepts a flute of champagne from a server passing by with a tray. “There may be room in the budget to hire another permanent pathologist in the medical examiner’s office next year, if you’re interested.” 

The offer catches Scylla off-guard, and Raelle watches her switch interest. She had always assumed she would leave Salem once her fellowship ended. But now... “I would be interested,” Scylla nods gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Good.” Petra smiles before she’s called away, and Abigail goes with her.

Raelle and Scylla continue onward toward buffet tables filled with canapés, cheese, fruit, and a wide assortment of hors d’oeuvres. 

“We should probably split up.” Raelle pops a few berries into her mouth. “Cover more ground. Will you be okay on your own?”

“Somehow, I’ll find a way to manage.” Scylla eyes a tray filled with lobster claws.

Raelle flashes a grin before she disappears into the crowd. 

 ***

 As the night continues, a few association members greet Scylla. Berryessa gushes over her dress, while Nessa introduces Scylla to her daughter, an Army soldier who’s home on furlough. Scylla hasn’t yet spotted Sarah or Gerald. 

Scylla eventually finds herself wandering the exhibits of the side halls, just to escape the commotion of the gala and have a few minutes to herself to recuperate. She comes across one display that catches her eye. Behind the glass is a noose and an array of 17th century weapons, including a curved blade set in a cross-shaped, ivory hilt. The placard next to it reads: Camarilla Scythe, circa 1693.

“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” A voice says behind her.

Scylla turns to see Charvel Bellweather and Ciro Hood approach, arm-in-arm. Together, they make a striking couple, reminding Scylla of a Disney princess and prince who stepped out of a movie screen.

“The violence that stems from fear and hate.” Charvel comes to stand next to Scylla, peering inside the case. “Hundreds of years later and we still haven’t learned our lesson.”

“That’s very true,” Scylla agrees. 

“To play devil’s advocate,” Ciro starts.

Charvel rolls her eyes. “The devil doesn’t need an advocate.”

“I’m just saying,” Ciro raises his hands. “They were doing what they thought was best to protect their people.”

“By killing the innocent?” Charvel scrunches up her face. 

“We don’t know they were innocent,” Ciro says.

“Oh? And how exactly do you go about proving someone’s a witch?” Charvel turns toward Scylla. “What do you think, Doctor?”

They walk to another case, which contains old bibles, treatises, and letters. 

“Some historians believe that the witch trials were caused by ergot,” Scylla traces her fingers across the glass. “A fungus that can grow rye and wheat. When consumed, it can cause delusions and muscle spasms. Things that early colonists might consider a witch’s curse.”

“See?” Charvel nudges Ciro.

“It doesn’t hurt to understand where the settlers were coming from,” Ciro insists. 

“Sure. Are you going to try to understand that Windpipe Killer who’s been going after our families, too?” Charvel asks. “I’m sure that murderer has their twisted reasons.”

“There is no right or wrong, only a difference in perspective,” Ciro says, eyeing the books with interest.

“If you say so.” Charvel shrugs.

One open tome depicts a drawing of Camarilla soldiers executing “witches.” The black and white drawings are gruesome. A shiver runs down Scylla’s spine. 

 ***

 Later, when Scylla tries to find Raelle and Abigail, she comes across Porter instead. He's nervous and awkward in his eagerness, but endearing. Scylla has to admit he’s handsome in his tuxedo, even a bit dashing. 

“You made it!” He moves in for a hug, and Scylla awkwardly pats his broad shoulders. “How do you like everything?”

“It’s incredible, but a little overwhelming,” Scylla answers honestly. 

"You get used to it." He rakes his fingers through his golden curls. "I didn't know how to mention this at the meeting, but... you don't remember me, do you?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Salem High?” He smiles shyly. “We graduated in the same class together."

That's when it clicks--the reason he had seemed so familiar.

"Porter! We had chemistry together, right?"

She remembers he was fairly popular, sporty. Perhaps he played soccer. Or was it lacrosse?

He nods, pleased. "It's been a while. We missed you at the 10-year reunion."

"I was finishing up my residency," Scylla explains. "Hard to get away." It’s mostly true, though she could have taken a weekend, if she really had wanted.

“Maybe we could catch up more with a dance?”

His face is so openly expectant, Scylla almost feels guilty about turning him down. Perhaps if they had met at some other time, before a certain blonde, and blue-eyed detective had wandered into her life, Scylla would have said yes. 

But before Scylla can answer, a hand slides across her back, electrifying the skin exposed from the low cut of her dress.

“Actually, she’s spoken for.” Raelle appears beside her and thrusts out her other hand. “Raelle Collar.”

Porter hesitantly shakes her hand. “Porter Tippett. I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were here with someone.”

Raelle curls her arm around Scylla's waist and rests her hand lightly on her hip. “Ready to go?”

“I’m sorry, Porter,” Scylla says. “Maybe we can catch up a little later?”

She doesn’t catch Porter’s response because Raelle’s already pulling her toward the dance floor. Once there, amid the other swaying couples, Raelle pulls her close, gently cradling Scylla’s left hand with her right. Scylla lightly rests her other hand on Raelle’s shoulder as they move to a slow and mellow melody played by a jazz band. 

“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” The blue of Raelle’s eyes seem more intense than usual. 

Scylla’s eyes narrow slightly. “Would you care if you did?”

“No.” Raelle half smiles. “But I wouldn’t get in the way again if that’s what you wanted.”

“He’s not who I want,” Scylla admits, and Raelle’s expression softens. “Did you find anything?”

"No. You?"

"There were witch hunters called the Camarilla. Might be relevant. Tally will probably have a run down by the time the night's through.

Raelle hums softly as they continue to dance, cheek-to-cheek. She smells of dark vanilla and sandalwood, and Scylla nuzzles the crook of Raelle’s neck to breathe more of her in.  

"Can I ask you something?" Raelle asks after one song ends and another starts up.

"Of course." 

"Earlier, with Petra, were you actually interested in that position or were you just being polite?” Raelle whispers. 

“I’m interested." Scylla closes her eyes.

“I thought Salem had too many painful memories for you."

"It does. It did. But I'm making new ones. Happy ones." She skims her lips against the edge of Raelle's jaw, unable to stop the slow spread of her smile when Raelle's breath hitches. 

When Raelle rests the side of her head against hers, Scylla revels in the way they fit so perfectly together, her heart contracting and expanding with affection. And she wonders what she’s waiting for. Why she’s holding happiness at arm’s length when she could finally embrace it.

She makes a decision.    

“Rae,” Scylla whispers, a confession hanging from the tip of her tongue.

The lights cut out.

The museum plunges into darkness. 

Startled shrieks erupt around them while the organizers shout for everyone to keep calm.

“Shit,” Raelle curses, grip tightening on Scylla’s hand. “Let’s get out of here.” She begins leading her through the panicked crowd, but the push and pull of packed bodies trying to rush out at once causes them to lose contact.

“Scyl?” She hears Raelle call out in the din.

Scylla’s about to respond and make a blind break for the exit when she feels a stinging prick against her neck, and then feels nothing at all.

 ***

 Throbbing pain radiates from Scylla’s head and down her neck as she regains consciousness. She cracks her eyes open. Everything’s blurred, and she tries to blink away the haze to no avail. Wherever she is, it’s dark and cold and reeks of decomposing flesh. The putrid scene is unmistakable and Scylla gags. 

“Hey,” a woman says from her left, panic lacing her words. “Hey, are you awake?” 

“Yeah.” Scylla’s mouth is so dry it’s hard to speak. “Where… where are we?”

“I don’t know. Some kind of freaky murder lair or something.”

“What?” Scylla tries to move, but finds she can’t. She’s handcuffed to a bar on the wall, still in her evening wear. The tight metal bites into her wrist, and the sharp sting helps the room slowly come into focus.

They're in a windowless room with cinderblock walls. A basement, perhaps? The young woman who spoke is to her right, similarly bound to a chair. Her long dark hair is mussed, her eyeliner smudged, and her deep violet dress torn in spots. Meanwhile, another woman is strapped to a gurney, unconscious, with no visual wounds. Both of her arms are hooked up to IV lines.

Scylla recognizes her immediately: Charvel Bellweather. There’s a tray next to her with syringes and surgical equipment.

“Oh my god, we got caught by the Windpipe Killer,” the woman says, hysterical. “That’s what this is, right? The Windpipe Killer?”

“We have to stay calm,” Scylla says even though her heart is about two seconds from pounding out of her chest. “I’m Scylla Ramshorn.”

“Glory Moffett,” she says. “I can’t believe we’re going to die. I’m too young to die!”

“No one’s going to die, Glory.” Scylla glances down, stomach sinking when she notices that her dress is torn at the midriff. The wire is gone. Shit. She shakes her head. Her earrings are still on. That’s something, at least. “Someone will find us.”

"Like, our dead bodies?"

"No," Scylla insists. She hopes the camera is still able to send a signal. "Tally? I hope you can see this," she whispers.

"Tally?" Glory asks. "Who's Tally?!"

The door swings open, and Glory shrieks. Three hooded figures enter, menacing in their dark cloaks. None speak as one approaches Charvel while the other two stand guard over Glory and Scylla.

“If you’re trying to contact your colleagues at the SPD, I’m afraid we removed this long before we left the gala.” The one closest to her lifts the camera that had been strapped to her body, and drops it on the floor. It crunches beneath his boot.

She feels like she’s heard his voice before.

"Who are you?" Metal clanks against metal as Scylla struggles against her handcuffs. “Why are you doing this?”

“To finish what our ancestors started, Dr. Ramshorn.” He pulls down his hood. “And purge impure blood tainted by the devil.”

“Gerald?” Scylla can’t believe it.

“You know this freak?!” Glory squeaks. The hooded figure next to her unsheaths a curved dagger and holds it to Glory’s neck.

“Witchcraft isn’t real, Gerald,” Scylla says as calmly as possible even as her throat tightens with panic. “You’re delusional.”

“The public are the ones who are deluded,” Gerald says. “We are doing the Lord’s work.”

“What about Sarah?” Scylla asks. “What have you done to her?”

Gerald smirks. “My dear friend will get what’s coming to her, like the rest of you.” He turns toward Charvel. “Ciro, if you’ll please.”

Scylla mouth drops open.

“Ciro Hood?” Glory exclaims. “Aren’t you her fiancé? You’re like a power couple. How can you do this?!”

“A necessary evil to get close to the Bellweathers,” Ciro says, as he picks up one of the syringes and points the needle toward the ceiling, flicking the barrel. “To protect us all.”

“Oh goddess,” Glory moans.

“Don’t!.” Scylla cries out, fear courses like ice through her veins. “Please. Take me first.”. 

“All in due time, Dr. Ramshorn,” Gerald says. “All in due time.”

Ciro brings the syringe closer to the access port of one of the IV tubes. Just as he’s about to insert it, a loud bang rattles the ceiling, followed by the rumbling of dozens of footsteps. He freezes as Gerald barks at them that they have to evacuate.

“How did they find us?” Ciro asks. 

Gerald backhands Scylla. Her head snaps back, the taste of copper filling her mouth.

“We have to go,” the third killer says. A woman. Scylla doesn’t recognize her voice.

“But Bellweather,” Ciro protests.

“Leave her,” Gerald orders, taking out his own dagger. “Wick, take Moffett.”

“We should just kill them all,” Wick says. 

“No, the police won’t touch us if it means endangering one of their own.” He uncuffs Scylla and hauls her to her feet, while Wick does the same with Glory. “Try anything and we’ll slit Moffett’s throat.”

With a bruising grip on her arm, he shoves her toward the door. They’re forced down a dark hall when a shout rings out, “SPD, freeze!!!”

Earsplitting gunshots crack in the air.

Glory screams.

Gerald yanks Scylla to him and turns them around. The edge of the cold blade presses against her neck. She can make out two bodies on the floor. Glory cowers in a ball on the ground as beams of light rush toward her.   .

“Hold your fire!” A familiar voice rings out, and Scylla’s heart hammers against her ribs.

Raelle.

Gerald walks them backwards. “Stop right there,” he shouts. 

Raelle stops. The light from her flashlight is blinding. 

“It’s over, Gardner.” Raelle’s voice is cold and harsh. She creeps forward with her gun raised. “Let her go.”

“One more step, and the SPD will have one less employee.” Gerald knicks a patch of Scylla’s skin, and she cries out. 

Raelle lowers her weapon slightly, enough so that the glare of her light isn’t as harsh. Scylla can just make out the storm swirling in a sea of blue. Scylla nods imperceptibly..

I trust you.

The shot thunders out. 

In a flurry of activity that comes too quickly for her to process, Scylla finds herself falling backward onto the floor, still clutched in a dead man’s grasp. They crash to the ground, knocking the air clean out of Scylla’s lungs. She manages to peel herself away, heart thundering so hard her head pounds in sync, and the next thing Scylla knows, gentle hands are tenderly brushing hair from her face. 

“Scyl?”

All she can see are blue eyes filled with concern. She collapses forward and a pair of strong arms wraps around her.

“Rae…” She buries her head in Raelle’s chest, grasping her shoulders. 

“I’ve got you,” Raelle clutches her tight. “I’ve got you.” 

 ***

 Sirens and flashing blue lights fill the aftermath. Scylla doesn’t remember walking from the house. Or letting the paramedics poke and prod her to make sure she’s okay. It all goes by in a blur. Tally hugs her tight, and Anacostia holds her even tighter, while Raelle works to secure the crime scene with Abigail and their fellow officers.  

“You sure you’re okay?” Anacostia drapes a thin blanket over Scylla’s shoulders. 

“Yeah,” Scylla nods. “What about Glory and Charvel?”

“Moffett’s a little shaken up, but no worse for wear,” Anacostia confirms. “Abigail went with Charvel to the hospital, but it sounds like she’ll be just fine.”

“That’s a relief.” Scylla pulls the blanket around her tighter as Anacostia leads her to a squad car.   

“So,” Anacostia starts as they lean against the trunk. “You and Collar were putting on quite the show before everything went to hell. Craven was beside herself.”

Scylla’s cheeks heat up. “I just escaped from three serial killers, could you maybe wait to grill me about my girlfriend?”

"Girlfriend, huh?" Anacostia chuckles. “She makes you happy?”

“Very.” Happy is an understatement. Raelle got her to notice her heart again for the first time in a long time. 

“Then I won’t bust her chops. But if she ever hurts you...”

“I won’t,” comes Raelle’s voice. 

Scylla's breath catches.

“Good.” Nodding, Anacostia squeezes Scylla’s shoulder. “I’ll check on you tomorrow.” As she passes Raelle, she claps her on the back. “You did good, Collar.”

Scylla steps back into Raelle’s arms when she’s close, succumbing to the gravitational pull between them. 

"Will you stay with me?” Scylla rests her forehead against Raelle's.

"Of course." Raelle rubs soothing circles up and down Scylla's back. 

“All night?”

“As long as my girlfriend wants me.” Raelle’s grin is bright enough to chase away the shadows of the night. 

Groaning, Scylla hides her face against Raelle’s shoulder. “You heard that?”

“I did.” Raelle presses her lips to Scylla’s hair. 

“Is that… okay?”

“Scyl, look at me.” Raelle cradles Scylla’s face between her hands, holding her gaze, eyes deep like the ocean. “I’ve wanted nothing more since that first night we met.” 

Tears slip down Scylla’s cheeks as she leans forward and kisses Raelle, warmth unfurling inside her chest. 

“Just so you know, I expect chocolate chip pancakes in the morning,” Scylla says when they pull apart. “They better be as good as you say they are, or it's a deal breaker. Got it?"

Raelle only laughs. "Got it."

[nothingeverlost]

Remus Evans

  Summary:            

When Lily Evans is eight years old her parents (both wizards) take in a child who needs a home.  Remus Lupin's father is dead and his muggle mum has surrendered him, believing that she can't properly take care of a child who is both magical and a werewolf.   Eventually, Remus is adopted and three years later Remus and Lily Evans board the Hogwarts Express together.

  Notes:    

Not a linear story.  Will be jumping around the timeline.  

Lily's family are wizards and Petunia is a squib.  Other than that many things will happen the same, like the Marauders.  But different too, of course.

Eventually, there will be Sirius/Remus and James/Lily.

Probably a sporadic verse, but I couldn’t resist the idea. Open to prompts.

             II

Lily Evans was eight years old when she became a big sister.   True, he was only a month and a half younger and an inch shorter, but that didn’t matter to Lily.  She was ready to embrace being a big sister.  It might not have been as important to her even a few months earlier, but during the summer a letter to Hogwarts had not arrived for her sister, who was eleven.  Petunia hadn’t shown any signs of magic but there had been hope until the September of her eleventh year had come and gone without a letter.  Now Petunia hardly talked to her.  Hardly talked to anyone in the family, and spent as much time at the library or with friends as she was allowed.

“It’s going to take a little while, sweetheart.  Why don’t you go play and I’ll call you when they’re here?”  Lily was sitting cross-legged on the floor not too far from the fireplace in the drawing-room.  It was the floo that her dad would be using when he came home.  He wouldn’t be alone.

“I have a book.”   She touched the book that she hadn’t opened today.  “I want to see him when he gets here.  It must be kind of scary, don’t you think?  And kind of sad not to have a home anymore.”

“He has a home now.  You can show him his new room when he gets here.”  Marigold Evans kissed the top of her daughter’s head.  The decision to bring home a foster child had only happened a few days ago, but they had spent most of the time since then transforming the guest room into something more personal.  The walls had been painted blue the muggle way, but the stars the sparkled on the ceiling after the lights were turned off were magic.  The quilt on the bed was one that Grandma Evans had made, and there was a bookcase next to the bed filled with books, some donated by Lily, some bought at a second-hand shop.  A few of the stuffed animals that Petunia had declared she was too old for were on the bed.  “I have to go check on dinner.”

Lily didn’t have too much longer to wait.  Before her mother had time to come check on her the fireplace started glowing.  A moment later her dad appeared, his hand firmly holding onto that of a little boy.  Her new brother.  Lily scrambled to her feet.  “Welcome home, Remus.”

The little boy with the chestnut hair and the scar on his cheek stared at her for a moment before running from the room.

“It’s not you, poppet.”  Her dad set down the bag he was carrying.  “He’s had a lot happen already today.  He probably just needed a minute alone.   I’ll go check on him.”

“Can I do it?”  She knew all the best hiding places in the house.

“If he asks to be alone you need to listen, okay?”  Lily nodded solemnly.   He’d been giving her the same advice about Petunia but it was easier to understand this time.

She found him in the loo, sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest and his back against the tub.  The door was open so she went in and sat on the floor facing him.  “Is it okay if I sit here?”

Remus looked up when she spoke, but only shrugged before looking down at the tile floor again.

“My name’s Lily.  My dad says we’re the same age.  He’s the one that told me your name.  I’ve never met a Remus before but it’s a cool name.   Cooler than being named after a flower.”  She didn’t mind being named after a flower, not really.  Tuney was named after a flower too, and mum.  But so were lots of other people.  It would be nice to have a name no one else had.

“My mum likes flowers.  She has a garden.”  His voice was almost a whisper and Lily had to strain to hear it.

“My mum has a garden too, I could show it to you.”  Mum and dad had explained to her and Tuney that they weren’t supposed to ask about Remus’ parents.  His dad had died a little while ago and his mum couldn’t take care of him.  Lily didn’t know why it was important that his mum was a muggle but for some reason, her mum and dad thought that meant something. Remus shook his head.

“I could show you your bedroom?  It’s more comfortable than the loo and it’s across the hall from mine but if you want to be alone you could just close the door.   Dad charmed the ceiling to have stars on it but if you don’t like stars or blue we can change the color.”  When she was little she had flowers on her ceiling but the charm had long since faded.  She was thinking about asking her dad to do stars on her ceiling too.  “Mum’s making shepherd's pie for dinner but it’s not ready yet.”

Remus shrugged again, but this time he stood up and Lily figured that was a yes.  She reached out to take his hand but he didn’t take it so she stuck it in her pocket and let the way up the stairs.

II

Remus was cold.  He was always cold now, it seemed, ever since that night in the garden but it was worse since they had taken him to the building they called Ministry and the little room with the door that didn’t open.  There was a blanket on the bed but the floor was stone without a carpet and someone had taken away his shoes.  They’d taken away his mum too.   His mum had promised him that everything would be okay if he was a brave boy.   Someone would be able to take care of him better than she could.  She was a good mum and read him stories and made him soup when he didn’t feel good.  He understood, though, that it was his fault that he couldn’t stay at home.  Mum was a muggle and he was s monster, and muggles couldn’t protect themselves from monsters.  In the beginning, after he’d been in St Mungo’s and his bites had healed, dad had been able to keep her safe but he was gone now.  Dead, mum had said, but he didn’t like to think about that word.

“He’s a child.  A human child with no more ability to hurt you than a flobberworm.”  Usually there was only silence in the hall, but a few hours after lunch had been taken away Remus heard yelling.  He didn’t like yelling.  The floor was cold but there was space between the wall and the desk, so he crouched down as small as he could.

“Mr. Evans you can’t…”

“I think you’ll find that I can and I will.”  The door opened and while Remus waited for more yelling he heard only the sounds of feet shuffling across the stone floor. “Remus?”  The same voice that had been shouting in the hall was quiet now.  “Do you remember me?”

Remus looked up and found the man that he had talked to the first day he’d been in the room.  He’d brought paints and paper, and asked Remus if there was anything he needed.  Remus had lied and said he didn’t need anything at all.  He needed his mum and dad but he couldn’t have them anymore.  Slowly he nodded.

“I know things have been very confusing and probably scary, but it’s going to be alright.  I’m going to take you home with me, alright?  My wife Mari is excited to meet you and so is Lily, my daughter who is just a little older than you.  I have two little girls, Lily and Petunia, but I’ve always wanted a little boy too..”  The man with the bright red hair was bigger than his dad had been, but he wasn’t scary.  His hand when he reached out was warm.   Remus looked at the hand, so much larger than his own, and bit his lower lip.

“I’m going to get your bag, alright Remus?  And that picture on the wall, the one you painted.  I’d like to take that with us too.   Is that okay?”

Remus looked around the room.  He wanted to go home, but he couldn’t.  Somewhere else had to be better than where he was.  He nodded.

II

“He’s hiding in the closet again.  He’s such a freak, I don’t understand why he’s here.”  It wasn’t often that Petunia was asked to talk to Remus in the three days he’d been in their home, but she’d been the only one around to call him to dinner.  Her job a failure she sat down and dished food onto her plate, starting to eat despite the fact that everyone else was waiting.

“I’ll go get him.”  Lily took a roll from the basket.  Sometimes she couldn’t convince him to leave the closet and at least he would have something to eat until mum could take a plate upstairs.  Since he’d come home Remus had rarely left his room and hadn’t gone outside at all.

“Remus?” She knocked on his door even though she knew that he wouldn’t answer.   The room looked empty but the closet door was open.  She sat down just outside of the closet door.

“Mum made chicken and mashed potatoes.  Aren’t you hungry?”  He hadn’t come down for lunch, though he had been down for breakfast and had three sausage rolls.  She reached out and put the roll next to his feet.  His face was hidden behind a robe but when he snatched at the roll she could see the now familiar scar on his hand.  “I can bring you more if you don’t want to come down.”

“It’s better if I’m not there.”

“We want you with us.  Tuney isn’t mad at you, she’s mad at everything because she didn’t get a Hogwarts letter and it makes her sad.”  He didn’t say anything but she could hear him eating the roll.

“I’ll be right back, okay?”   She ran downstairs and filled a plate with dinner, as much as it would hold, and took two forks, running back upstairs before mum or dad could ask any questions.  Tuney was already gone from the table.  When she got back to Remus’ room she joined him in the closet and handed him the second fork.  “It’s like a picnic.”

He ate most of the mashed potatoes but she didn’t mind.  After they ate he needed to wash his hands in the loo, and when he came back he say on his bed instead of in the closet.

II

Lily was in the garden.  It was bright outside and he could see the sun on her hair as she checked on her pumpkins.  Remus watched her through the window; she’d invited her out with him but he couldn’t go.  He hadn’t been outside in weeks, not since he left his old home, and even then he’d only gone because he promised his mum he would.  Bad things happened when you went outside.  In April, a month after his birthday, he’d gone outside in the garden and when he’d woken up he’d been in the hospital and everything had changed.

“There’s some gobstones on the bookshelf by the back door, sweetheart.  Why don’t you take them out and play with Lily, I’m sure she’d love a game.”  Mari Evans, who told him he could call her Mari or mum, whatever felt comfortable, joined him at the window.  Remus shook his head.

“Did you want to help me make some cookies?  I was going to do some baking.”  Remus thought for a moment, because he liked watching his mum bake, and usually where there were cookies there was also chocolate.  Lily was outside, though, and someone needed to watch her and make sure nothing happened.  He shook his head again.

“Okay, sweetheart.  If you change your mind come join me.  When they’re done I’ll make some cocoa and we can all have a nice afternoon treat.”  She kissed the top of his head and let him stand at the window in peace.  Every once in a while he looked over to where she was working, but mostly he watched Lily.  She watered her pumpkins and picked up a gnome, sending it over the garden wall.  Finally she started back towards the house and Remus sighed with relief.

“Do I smell cookies?”  Lily grinned when she came inside.

“Your mum is baking.”  It was easier to talk to Lily than anyone else.  

“Our mum.”  Lily wrapped an arm around his shoulder.  “We’re sharing, remember?”  

Remus nodded slowly.  It was hard to say the word mum, even to Lily.

II

“I want to go.”  It was after dinner when dad and Remus headed for the fireplace in the living room.  Lily didn’t understand where they could be going so late in the day but she knew that Remus needed her.  After almost three weeks she was still the only person in the family who could get him to say much more than ‘yes please’ and ‘no thank you.’

“They’ll be back before you wake up, love.  Why don’t you run up and brush your teeth?  The sooner you’re asleep the sooner it will be morning.”  Lily’s mum was making bread, a sure sign that she was worried.  She always brought bread unless she was worried and needed something to do with her hands.

“But mum…”  

“You can’t go with them, it’s not safe.”  

“Why is it okay for Remus to go?”  He’d barely left the house since he’d arrived, and even then he’d only been in the garden a few times, never too far from the door.

“You have to trust that your dad knows what’s best, Lily.  You know he cares about Remus.”  Mum kneaded her bread and behind them, the sound of the floo meant then Remus was already gone.  Upstairs Petunia was in her room with the door closed, and Lily knew that even if if the door was open they wouldn’t be able to talk.

Lily went to bed reluctantly and tried to stay awake until her dad and Remus returned.  The moon was bright enough that she could read a book without using a light, and for a while that was enough to keep her awake.  She didn’t quite make it to midnight before falling asleep and woke up hours later to her mum and dad talking in the hall.

“I can’t do that again, Mar.  The room looked like a cage and the way they treated him…”

“We’ll figure something else out for next month, sweetheart.  We’ll do everything we can to protect him.”  Lily listened until her mum and dad were gone before creeping across the hall.  If dad was home then Remus must be too.  

She figured he might be asleep already but when she saw him it was the bandages on his arms she noticed, bits of blood seeping through.  He was sleeping but shivering despite the blankets on him.  Lily bit her lip, trying to keep herself from making a noise. If mum and dad knew that she was awake they might try and make her go back to her room and Remus needed her. She didn’t understand what had happened but she knew that she needed to keep him safe.  Carefully she climbed onto the bed, pulling the covers over her.  Making sure to avoid any bandages she wrapped an arm around his waist.  She could keep him warm for now, and she would learn how to keep him safe.  He was her brother, after all, and that’s what sisters were supposed to do.

[mainly-kpop]

A Pirate’s Life For Me

Chapter Eleven

Pirate!BTS Maid!Reader hello hello hello, I’m sorry, i know I’m literally a week and three days late but when i say A LOT has happened this bitch is not exaggerating. Regardless, better late than never right?   Warnings: none to note Summary:  You had always wondered about pirates, about a life outside of these walls. On your 23rd birthday, you would finally find out what both were really like. Word Count: 2k

‘But I want to carry something too!’ You whined, you know you were acting like a toddler, one moment away from stomping your foot.  They insisted you were still too fragile after your injury, refusing to let you do anything leading up to this trip. The ship was docked legally, paid by Yoongi. You were here solely for stock and to have some downtime, this all seemed easy enough, but since you started shopping, they wouldn’t let you take anything. They took it all out of your hands, ignoring your whines to carry something. All you were met with was ‘Just take it easy angel’ or ‘You haven’t fully healed yet; we will do it.’

‘Here baby, take this.’ Jimin whispered, passing you a small bag of bandages to carry. Although it weighed no more than a feather, you were still happy to be doing something. He smiled at you adoringly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, hearing him giggle. Putting all the things down in the supply area, you all decided that was a job for another time.

‘It’s still quite early, shall we go to a tavern?’ Yoongi suggested, getting multiple yells of agreement. You could hear some of the boys talking about the nearby brothel, you rolled your eyes at them. Could they not think about something other than getting their dick wet?

‘I don’t know if I can be bothered with the brothel today man, we have-‘

‘Well, well, well, if it isn’t the traitors.’ A mans voice spoke, all the boys stopped, Jimin going basically catatonic.

‘Kibum, we don’t want any trouble, please don’t start.’ Namjoon spoke, trying to diffuse the tension. The man just sneered at him, stepping slightly forward. Jimin instantly cowered behind Taehyung, the latter grabbing his hand to comfort him. The man who seemed like the captain put his hand on his chest, stopping him from fighting.

‘Oh, they have a new little whore, how exciting. Hello poppet, are you bound already too?’ A pervy looking man spoke, looking you up and down for a second. Jungkook practically growled at the man, putting an arm in front of you. However, you didn’t need protection, especially not from some weird pervy men.

‘Who the fuck do you think you are? You think I’m just some whore you can look down on? Do you have no respect for women at all? You disrespectful mother- JIN LET GO OF ME!’ You screamed and kicked, trying to get out of Jin’s arms.

‘A feisty one, that’s interesting. Does she know yet?’ The captain spoke, looking Yoongi up and down while smirking.

‘No. She doesn’t, but I’d like to be the one to tell her thank you.’ Yoongi spoke, sneering in his general direction. ‘I would also appreciate it if you kept your dogs tamed.’ He grumbled, motioning to the two men by his sides.

‘Keep your bitch in line and we won’t have a problem.’ He shrugged, motioning for the two men to follow him.

‘You don’t want to mess with them, please just listen to me!’ Jin yelled, trying to get the words stuck in your head, you weren’t listening though. It was going in one ear and out the other, too pent up about this to listen.

‘I don’t care who the fuck they are Jin. One, no one talks to me like that, that was disgusting. Two, not one of you stood up for me, how do you think that makes me feel? That’s literally admitting to them that yes I am your whore!’ You screamed, the other boys now joining you on the ship. They had never seen Jin so frustrated, nor you so angry.

‘Babe, that’s not the point. That’s the ship Jimin and Namjoon were on before. The one who took my ex from me.’ He tried to plead with you. As much as you felt for them, you couldn’t get over what had just happened.

‘You don’t seem to be calming down anytime soon. Why don’t you stay here and calm down, come meet us when you’re ready?’ Yoongi spoke passively, already walking away from the group.

‘You know what Yoongi, what a great fucking idea.’ You spoke, walking to his office, slamming the door for dramatic effect. The boys kept looking back as they walked off with Yoongi, giving you time to cool down. Jimin couldn’t shake the thought that this could be a dangerous idea.

‘I just don’t think its safe, leaving her alone when they are so close… Don’t you think someone should stay?’ He wondered, stopping in his place, Yoongi sighed, turning around to look at the younger boy.

‘Listen, she just needs to calm down for a little bit, she will come around. Give her some space okay?’ He reasoned, Jimin sighed but followed regardless.

‘Tidy this shit up, I’m sick of the mess on this fucking ship.’ He spoke, drawing attention from all the crew.

‘Seokmineee!’ A shrill voice screeched the second he stepped foot on the ship. He winced slightly, not ready to deal with her. Regardless, he plastered a fake smile on his face, turning around to welcome her into his arms.

‘Baby, how are you?’ He greeted, sighing into her hair, she picked up on it instantly pulling away to pout at him.

‘I’m better than you, clearly. What’s wrong baby?’ She soothed, stroking his cheek. He frowned, grabbing her wrist in his hand.

‘Your fucking ex is here; do you know anything about this?’ he growled, scaring her slightly. Of course, she could sense that he was close, but the bond isn’t as strong as it used to be. She shook her head, fear in her eyes. He loved her, but that wouldn’t stop him from doing something stupid if she really knew.

‘I didn’t know, baby I thought he was miles out still, I swear to you!’ She yelled, trying desperately to rip her hand out of his grasp. He sighed, visibly relaxing wrapping her back into his arms.

‘I’m sorry baby, you know how I feel about this. I’m so sorry.’ He apologised, soothingly rubbing her back, slowly his grip tightened, making her smack at him to release her. She couldn’t say anything, just tried to get him to stop. ‘But if I ever find out you’re lying, I’ll kill you.’ He whispered, letting her go. She ran off gasping for air.

‘Chanyeol!’ He screamed, the man coming running behind him.

‘Captain?’

‘Follow the girl. She hasn’t left the ship with the rest of them.’ Chanyeol nodded, running off the ship to wait in the shadows for her.

It took you an hour to pull your thoughts together, to understand what Jin was trying to tell you. You were so blinded by how it made you feel, you didn’t really think about the boys. You felt dumb, but it was time to apologise. You left the ship trying to remember where they had gone to, trying to map out the direction of the cavern.

‘Hello poppet.’ A familiar voice sounded behind you, rolling your eyes you turned to look at him. You wondered if he knew he would be attractive, well if it wasn’t for that pervert thing he had going for him.

‘Leave me alone you creep, I have some place to be.’ He stepped closer to you, pinning you to the nearest pole before pressing his body against yours.

‘There’s no place you have to be baby. Want to take a ride with me instead? I promise you won’t regret it.’ Your hand connected with his face, one swift slap had him changing his persona in a second.

‘Why you little fucking-‘

‘Chanyeol, pick a new whore for the night. I want to speak with her.’ He pulled himself away, stumbling into town to do just that.

‘Hey, you don’t know me but-‘

‘Hey no offence. Thanks for saving me and all, but I have some place to be.’ You spoke, trying to get away from her. You had no doubts she was part of his crew too, wanting to get as far away from her and them as possible.

‘You’re on the ship with Yoongi right? There’s something you need to know.’ She spoke, trying to get you to come back. You did stop briefly, now figuring out who she was.

‘You’re the ex am I right?’ You quizzed, turning a sceptical eye to her.

‘Mary, but yes, the ex.’ She replied shortly. You nodded, turning around to look at her properly.

‘I have heard plenty about you, therefore I do not wish to talk to you. Have a good day, I’ll be going.’ You replied, trying to walk away. Trying. She grabbed your arm, pulling you towards her.

‘There’s a curse.’ She spoke quickly, making you laugh out loud. A curse, for pirates, how fucking cliché.

‘I know what you’re thinking. I laughed too at first, but it’s real, and if you’re not careful, you’ll know all about it.’ To say your curiosity was piqued would be an understatement.

‘Okay, I’m giving you 15 minutes to tell me everything, that’s all.’ She nodded, leading you over to a bench, you sat far enough away from her to make a run if, for some reason, this went south.

‘Okay, first of all, the curse is called the lovers curse. You need to be with Yoongi sexually, it doesn’t count with the rest of the crew so there’s no need to worry about that. The origin of the curse was Yoongi’s grandfather, he cheated on his wife, a witch, and she cursed him for eternity, all his family who become sailors on the boat would be cursed too. I thought I had broken it, thought by being with Seokmin, I broke it. Turns out, no matter who I sleep with, it’s only slightly torn. You see, when you sleep with Yoongi, you’re bonded, bound to him. Your soul interlocks with his, it’s painful but beautiful. Regardless, you feel loved, full, but that’s not enough sometimes you know? I felt trapped, controlled, taken advantage of. I didn’t want to be with him because I was bound to him. Like I said, I tried to break it but I only snapped one cord, Yoongi needs to move on, to sleep with someone else to break it from me. Please help him break it, I can’t take this anymore, it hurts. I don’t want to long for him anymore, I don’t want to know where he is and what he’s doing. Please free me.’ She pleaded, crying tears of desperation. You just looked at her like she was crazy, she couldn’t be serious right? She was talking about some creepy ass marriage shit, some one-sided love bond. Imagine, being married to a witch and not thinking she would curse you if you slipped it in someone else. Idiot.

‘You’re lying, there’s no way…’ You spoke mostly to yourself, she just sighed, sniffing and wiping at her tears.

‘If you think I’m lying, ask him. If he loves you like I know he does, he will tell you the truth. I can feel his emotions too you know? Six months ago, all he felt was loss, despair, just bad thoughts and feelings. He doesn’t have those anymore, that’s how I knew he had someone, but I wondered why I hadn’t felt the bond break. Why he hadn’t done anything yet. Then two months ago I felt love from him, I felt jealousy two weeks ago. So, you did something with one of them right?’ She smirked, the more she talked, the more you were inclined to believe her.

‘That’s none of your business.’ You whispered, looking down at your hands in your lap.

‘It doesn’t matter, just ask him. He will tell you the truth… I’ll be going. I’ll know eventually if you accept the curse.’ She spoke, walking back to her ship. You sat on the bench for a little bit longer, staring at your hands.

‘What the fuck just happened.’ You mumbled to yourself, getting up off the bench walking back to the ship. Suddenly you weren’t in the mood to drink or apologise.  

[chuffyfan87]

Growing Pains. Part 19a

Cowritten with @disastrousintention. Trigger warning for discussion of depression.

-x-

Sarah sighed as she looked up at the clock again. It was almost 3am and still no sign of AJ. He'd promised her that he'd stop doing this, that he would knuckle down and take his responsibilities seriously. It seemed to be just words. Especially the closer the baby got to being born.

She'd tried to stop him going out as she'd been suffering with terrible back pain for several days now but he didn't seem to care. Last time he'd gone out he'd disappeared for two days before arriving back home still drunk and smelling of another woman's perfume.

Sarah knew she deserved better but what could she do? She was having a baby, she was essentially homeless and the pay on maternity leave wasn’t exactly great. She moved out of bed to get a glass of water when she doubled over in pain. Fuck!

She desperately tried to rationalise that it was just braxton hicks again, she'd had them frequently through the pregnancy but she couldn't help panicking as the pains continued as she made her way slowly to the kitchen.

She grabbed her phone off the kitchen table and tried to call AJ. Cursing under her breath when it went through to voice mail.

Where the hell was he this time?! He'd promised not to turn his phone off!

She closed her eyes as another pain tore through her. Fuck! These weren’t Braxton Hicks! Able to pull herself together for a few seconds, Sarah found Duffy’s phone number in her contact list and rang her. She was running out of options!

It took a few moments but eventually a very sleepy sounding Duffy answered her phone. "Hello?" She yawned.

“Duffy...”

"Sarah?" Duffy's voice was clouded by sleep and confusion.

“The baby.”

"What baby?" Duffy asked as she sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes.

“I think... Fuck.” Sarah closed her eyes tightly, dropping the phone onto the counter.

"Sarah? Sarah?"

“It really fucking hurts!” Sarah mumbled.

"OK... Right..." Duffy shook herself more awake. "Is anyone with you?"

“Can’t get hold of AJ. Didn’t want to ring but fast running out of options.”

"OK, have your waters broken sweetheart?" Duffy asked as she attempted to get dressed one handed.

“Not yet.”

"That's good. Have you called an ambulance?"

“Again, not yet. I panicked.”

"Its ok. I need to hang up so I can finish getting dressed and drive over. Can you text me your address? If your waters break and there's blood before I get there you need to call an ambulance ok?"

“I got it.” Sarah nodded, “Thank you.” After Duffy hung up the phone, Sarah texted Duffy her address and pottered around the room for a while - trying to ignore the contractions. She wasn’t ready for any of this.

It was about twenty minutes later when Duffy knocked on Sarah's door. She'd left a note for Charlie to explain where she'd disappeared to.

It took Sarah several minutes to open the door.

"How often are the pains?" Duffy asked as she entered the house.

“I’m supposed to count them?” Sarah asked. “About five minutes or so.”

"Sorry I should have told you to."

“I don’t think I can do this.” Sarah replied. “I don’t want to do this.”

"I'm afraid you don't have a lot of choice right now." Duffy replied, squeezing Sarah's shoulder. "Is there somewhere we can go where you can lie down so I can check on how things are progressing?"

“The bedroom.” Sarah mumbled and moved to the bedroom. However, she had to stop half way when she felt another contraction.

"Just focus on your breathing Sarah. In and out. Nice and slowly."

Sarah focused on her breathing, breathing in and out.

They finally made it through to the bedroom and Sarah lay down on the bed.

"I'm afraid this is going to be uncomfortable but I'll be as gentle as I can ok?" Duffy reassured her.

Sarah nodded. She stared at the ceiling, just as a tear rolled down her cheek.

After she'd examined Sarah, Duffy sat back. "You're six centimetres dilated. Waters are still intact. Do you want me to give you a lift to the maternity suite?"

“You don’t have to. I shouldn’t have called you... Sorry...”

"You shouldn't be on your own."

“I guess I should get used to it.”

"I've told you before, you're not on your own!"

Sarah shrugged. “I just want to get this over with.”

"Do you have your hospital bag packed?"

“Yeah, it’s there.” Sarah gestured over to the corner where there was a bag and two suitcases packed.

"Wow! You intending on staying there for a week?" Duffy couldn't help but giggle.

“I was hoping I’d have a few days before little miss made an appearance to move out but, clearly not.”

"So that's all your stuff?"

“Yeah.”

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

“I’ll stay here.”

"You don't seem so sure..." Duffy commented as she picked up the bag and cases.

“I’ll find something.”

"Anyway, let's worry about that once your little girl is safely here OK?"

Sarah nodded and rubbed her stomach.

Duffy gave her an encouraging smile. "You'll be surprised what you're capable of, trust me."

“Or maybe I’m not, there’s only one way to find out.” Sarah said quietly before she cried out, a stronger contraction knocking the wind out of her.

"Right, as soon as that's over let's get moving."

There was suddenly a trickle of water down her legs and Sarah groaned. “Oh fucking hell.”

Duffy placed the bags on the floor once more. "OK, change of plan, back on the bed."

Sarah got back onto the bed.

Duffy quickly examined the young woman again. "Right, looks like this little lady has other plans. I'm going to call an ambulance for backup."

“You can’t be serious?” Sarah swallowed.

"Don't worry, it's all going to be OK."

The pains were becoming a lot stronger and Sarah began to curse a lot more.

"Right the ambulance is on its way. You can do this."

“Some people make this look bloody easy!” Sarah muttered.

"I hope you're not including me in that!" Duffy chuckled darkly.

“No.” Sarah screamed. “I can’t do this!”

"You can."

“AJ is never sticking his dick in me again!! Or any man! Ever!”

Duffy couldn't help but laugh.

There was a sudden loud crash at the door. On opening it Duffy found AJ slumped on the doorstep drunk. "Nice of you to join us." She remarked bitterly.

“Huh?” AJ frowned.

“Fuck off AJ! You piece of shit!!” Sarah screeched from the bedroom.

"You're about to become a dad so I suggest getting your shit together pronto!" Duffy informed him. As he looked up she noticed his eyes. She sighed. "Are you high as well as drunk?"

AJ shrugged, “May have had a few pills.”

“I don’t want him to come to the hospital!” Sarah shouted, “He can stay here!”

The two sides of Duffy's professional brain vied for her attention. Hearing Sarah scream again she made her decision. "You go sit on the sofa and don't move!" She told AJ before heading back to the bedroom.

“When I can walk again, I’m going to fucking kill him!” Sarah was agitated and wound up.

"Just focus on yourself and the baby."

“The baby he begged me not to get rid of saying we could make it work! All whilst he’s busy screwing fuck knows who and doing god knows what!!” Sarah’s heart rate began to accelerate higher.

"Sweetheart you need to focus on your breathing."

“You should’ve let me lie!” Sarah mumbled, trying to focus on her breathing that had become faster.

Five minutes later, with AJ passed out on the sofa, they were in the ambulance on their way to the hospital.

The paramedic had given him the once over and decided that he was OK to just sleep it off.

“I need to push!” Sarah groaned.

"We're almost there." Duffy told her, giving Josh a pointed look in the rear view mirror.

“I’m tired.” Sarah murmured.

"On the next contraction I want you give me a big push ok?"

Sarah nodded. On the next contraction, she gave a big push.

"Good girl! Keep going, you're doing great!"

Sarah continued pushing. “Fucking hell!” She yelled.

"OK, just breath now for a moment. That's the head out."

Sarah began to breath again. She couldn’t help the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

Duffy reached out to squeeze Sarah's hand. "On the next contraction we're gunna go for the shoulders ok? You're nearly there."

Sarah didn’t make a sound as she pushed again on the next contraction.

"Good girl! That's the shoulders. If you still feel the contraction then keep pushing."

Sarah kept pushing, eventually delivering her daughter.

Duffy wrapped the baby in a blanket just as they arrived at the hospital. "Oh Sarah she's beautiful!"

Sarah was silent.

After cutting the cord Duffy rose with the baby in her arms, bringing her round to Sarah who had her head turned away. "Do you want to hold her?"

Sarah was silently crying. She shook her head.

The back doors of the ambulance opened.

Mother and baby were taken straight to the Maternity Ward.

Duffy was extremely worried as still Sarah seemed to want nothing to do with her newborn daughter.

“I’m tired.” Sarah whispered as she glanced at Duffy and her daughter.

"I'm not surprised, giving birth is tiring work. I just... I think it might help if you were to hold her, even just for a short while..."

“I don’t want to.”

"Can you tell me why you don't?"

“I’m tired.”

Duffy sighed. "Do you have a name for her?"

Sarah shook her head.

"You need a name don't you poppet?" Duffy cooed at the baby.

Sarah watched Duffy with the baby.

After a few minutes the baby started to fidget. "She's hungry." Duffy told Sarah. "Do you want to try feeding her?"

“No.”

"Do you want me to go make her a bottle?"

“Whatever.” Sarah shrugged.

"Can you hold her while I do?"

Sarah shook her head. “I don’t want to hold her. Will you put her in the cot?”

"OK. Or I can take her with me if you'd prefer?"

“Whichever.” Sarah shrugged once more.

Duffy took the baby with her to get a bottle. By the time she returned Sarah was fast asleep so after feeding the newborn Duffy took her to the nursery and sat with her so she wasn't alone. She was still there a couple of hours later when Charlie arrived at the hospital to start his shift.

“Hi.” The first thing Charlie did before his shift was see how Sarah and the baby were getting on, knowing this was probably where Duffy was.

[tanjamikaelson]

LOVE FOR ETERNITY - PART 74

MASTERLIST

PART 74: | TRISTAN’S SPLENDID END |

Davina had a fight with her boyfriend Caleb and she was at Rossenaus when Natali walked in and saw her sitting against the bar. 

  - “Trouble in paradise?” Natali asks as she approaches her.

  - When Davina hears her voice and sees her she rolls her eyes, “Leave me alone.”

  - “You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?” Natali asks even if she knows the answer and sits next to her.

  - “Actually I do.” Davina replies.

  - Natali smiles, “I don’t care.” she says before ordering herself a glass of wine.

  - “You have your club, why did you come here to drink?” Davina questioned, “What do you want from me?”

  - “I can drink wherever I want.” Natali tells her.

A few moments later a bartender gave Natali her glass of wine and he also gave Davina another drink.

  - “I didn’t order this.” Davina says to him.

  - “It’s from that guy across from you.” He tells her and points his finger at him as she turns to see who it was, but she was disappointed when she saw that it wasn’t who she wanted it to be.

  - “You know the best way to forget someone is to hook up with another guy.” Natali tells her.

  - “I don’t want to forget anyone.” Davina replies.

  - “What happened, there must be a reason why you’re drinking?” Natali asked.

  - “Why do you care?” Davina says.

  - “I don’t, I’m just curious.” Natali replies.

  - Davina takes a sip of her new drink, “We just had a fight.”

  - “First one?” Natali asks, “The first one is the worse. Then you get used to it.”

  - “I guess you’re talking from experience.” Davina says and takes another sip.

  - “Yeah, a thousand years experience.” Natali says.

After that, there was silence between them until suddenly Davina started to feel dizzy. She almost fell off her chair but Natali catches her.

  - “Is she okay?” Bartender asks.

  - “She is fine. She’s just drunk.” Natali tells him and takes Davina with her to Fangtasia.

The next morning Marcel was looking for Davina, he found out that she was last seen at Rossenaus and he heard from a bartender that she left with a woman who had dark hair and red lipstick and he right away knew who that was. He came knocking at the door of Fangtasia and he woke up all vampires who were there.

  - Just as Eric opened the front door Marcel asked, “Where is Natali? I need her to come here right now.”

  - “I’m here.” Natali’s voice was heard as she walked down the stairs.

  - “Where is Davina? What did you do to her?” Marcel asks angrily.

  - “She is fine and in the guest room.” Natali tells him, “She wasn’t feeling good so I brought her here.”

  - Marcel furrowed his eyebrows, “Why would you do that?” 

  - “I don’t know how she got those bartenders to give her alcohol when she’s not 21 years old.” Natali says, knowing that Marcel didn’t know Davina was drinking.

  - “What?” Marcel asked.

  - Natali nodded, “Yeah, she had some issues with her boyfriend so she got drunk. All teenagers do that.”

  - “Let me in.” Marcel yells.

  - “No can do.” Natali replies.

Just then Davina walks down the stairs, she heard Marcel’s voice so she came. She didn’t even remember that Natali brought her to Fangtasia.

  - “What am I doing here?” Davina asks.

  - “You don’t remember anything?” Natali questioned.

  - “No.” Davina quickly replies.

  - “You were wasted.” Natali tells her.

  - “But I didn’t even drink that much.” Davina says as she walks towards Marcel.

  - “You did something to her.” Marcel stated before he wrapped his arms around Davina, glad that she was alive.

  - “I haven’t done anything, you can go now.” Natali says losing her patience, then she moves her wrist and closes the door right in front of them.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

Natali entered compound just as Cami was leaving and Klaus was walking quickly after her. Natali noticed that something was going on with the two of them.

  - “What’s happening?” Natali asks but no one answers her so she continues to go towards the living room where she found Freya.

  - “What’s with that tension between Klaus and Cami? Natali asked her.

  - “Oh, you didn’t hear?” Freya says, “Cami is in transition, but she doesn’t want to feed and Klaus can’t accept that.”

  - “Really?” Natali says as idea poops into her mind, “That’s exactly what we need.”

  - “What?” Freya asked narrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

  - “A vampire who’s in transition.” Natali tells her, “We use her to lure Tristan into a trap. Cami is stuck between two worlds right now, she’s not dead and she’s not alive so she safe from Serratura.”

  - “That actually solves our problems.” Freya points out.

  - “Exactly, so call Klaus and tell him to come back.” Natali told her.

While Freya was explaining Klaus their plan Natali heard that someone walked inside of the compound. She vamp-speeds into a courtyard and sees a human tourist who was placing a box and a letter onto the table. 

  - “What’s that?” Natali asks as she appears behind him.

  - A human turns around and says, “A delivery from Tristan de Martel.”

  - “Klaus said he’s going to talk with Cami about our plan.” Freya says as she comes into the courtyard, just then she sees Natali who was facing a human, “Who are you?” she asks.

  - “A compelled human that Tristan send to deliver us this.” Natali replies and points at the box on the table.

Freya walks toward the box and opens the letter first and begins to read it’s content. 

  - “What did he say?” Natali asked when she saw a horrified look on her face.

Freya didn’t answer her she clutched her chest with one hand and a piece of parchment in another. She was staring at a small, cream-colored box on the table. Just then Elijah returned to the courtyard when he saw Freya he immediately sensed something is wrong and rushes towards her.

  - “Freya? What's happening?” Elijah asked concerned.

  - Freya’s eyes were filled with tears, “A messenger came. Some compelled tourist. He left this..”

Freya, whose face is covered in tears, gestures toward the box on the table and Elijah, both concerned and suspicious, gently lifts the corner of the lid to the box while Natali watches from behind. When Elijah sees the bloody heart inside, he immediately shuts the lid and takes a deep breath to prepare for what he's about to learn.

  - “Who?” Elijah simply asks.

  - “Jackson.” Freya replied.

Elijah closes his eyes and sighs for a moment, overwhelmed by this news. Freya holds up the letter in her hand, which has a message handwritten in print. She sighs and sits on the couch as Elijah takes the letter and begins to read its contents: “Dearest friends, please find enclosed the heart of Jackson. Hayley's will follow unless you meet me at Coltrane's Autoshop, 1268 Adderly in the ninth. Kind regards, Tristan.” Elijah sighs, exhausted by the shocks he's received today.

  - “So, unless we meet their demands, Hayley will be next.” Elijah says.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

In the living room, Klaus has just joined Elijah, Freya, and Natali so that they can begin to set up their plan of attack against the de Martels.

  - “Two Original vampires and two powerful witches against an army of miscreants? I'm rather looking forward to it.” Klaus says as he walks in.

  - “He wants the Serratura, that's why he kidnapped Jackson and Hayley. He thinks we’re going to give that to him in exchange for her.” Natali points out.

  - Elijah looks momentarily uncomfortable, knowing that Natali doesn’t care if Hayley gets out dead or alive, “As long as Tristan has her the advantage is all his.”

  - “Well, then we should take that advantage from him.” Freya turns to Klaus with a knowing smirk, “We’re gonna need something that belonged to his sister.”

BACKROADS OF NEW ORLEANS

Aurora is dozing in the backseat of an SUV when she suddenly stirs awake. She notices the Strix associate of Tristan's sitting next to her, but before she can ask what they're doing, the vampire injects her in the neck with a prefilled syringe of medication that makes her groggy and sedated. She groans in pain and rubs her throat before passing out again. After a moment, the Strix guard and driver see that Natali is standing in the middle of the road ahead of them. She opens his arms wide and casts a spell, “Sispann la agresè.”

In the SUV, the guard turns to address the driver as he keeps his eyes on Natali, “Run her down.”

The driver nods and presses down the gas pedal to go faster, but after Natali watches them for a moment, she twists both of her wrists inward, causing the SUV to violently flip over and roll down the road at least a dozen times. Once the vehicle finally loses momentum right next to where Natali is standing, the Strix guard and driver groan in pain as they kick open the doors to pull themselves out. The Strix vampires then start to walk toward Natali menacingly as they pop their broken bones back into the correct positions.

  - “Hello, boys.” Natali greets them with a smile, but before they can even try to lunge for her, Elijah appears and stakes them both in the heart simultaneously, “Goodbye boys.” she adds.

Elijah doesn't even watch as the vampires' collapse and die, he simply shrugs and buttons up his pea coat.

After they kidnapped Aurora, Natali went back to Freya to help her with a spell. She was in the bell tower where she set up everything for a spell. On the tables and candleabrums, Freya has arranged hundreds of lit white candles. In front of them, she has a stone cauldron full of blood and a variety of animal bones scattered around the candles. In her hands is a large burlap poppet with a strand of blonde hair pinned to the top.

  - “So this is going to be the same as when we were finding Dahlia, except this time our enemies are quite stupid.” Natali says and smiles.

Freya smiles back at her and clutches Natali’s right hand so she can channel her while she holds the poppet in her left. They then begin the chanting, “Kache l'nan san. Jen chèch je yo.”

As they chant, Freya dips the "legs" of the poppet into the cauldron of blood.

At PATRICK'S DOCK, Elijah and Klaus are waiting inside of the warehouse when a half-dozen Strix vampires vamp-speed into the room. The brothers start to walk toward them as another few dozen or so vampires join them.

  - "Here they come." Klaus smirks.

Finally, Tristan, Aya, and Marcel stop several feet away from the Mikaelson brothers, looking displeased as they all stare at each other.

  - "Gentlemen. I wish I could say it was a pleasure." Tristan tells them.

  - Klaus nods in acknowledgment and gives Marcel a knowing look, "Marcellus. Made your bed with the enemy, I see."

  - Marcel smiles fakely, "Membership has its privileges."

  - Klaus smirks, "Let's get on with this, shall we?"

Tristan turns back to a tall, blonde vampire woman and nods, so she and other male vampire bring the still-bloodied and shackled Hayley forward. She's so weak she can't even stand on her own and when the vampires let go of her, she collapses onto the floor in between the two groups as Elijah and Klaus stares at her in horror.

  - "Hayley Marshall-Kenner, only slightly worse for wear. You'll have to forgive her if she seems a bit off. There's enough wolfsbane in her system to kill an entire pack. However, here she is, as requested. Now, where's my sister?" Tristan asked.

  - "She lives. You can thank Elijah for that." Klaus sneered. Then he walks toward Tristan so they're standing eye-to-eye, "I wanted to flay her and hang her skin as a flag. Anyway, enough chit-chat. Let's conclude this tedious business, shall we?"

  - "My sister first. And, if you're tempted to argue, consider the numbers." Tristan says.

Klaus smirks in amusement and walks even closer to him so that their noses are nearly touching, indicating that he's not threatened by his army. Tristan looks slightly nervous but stands his ground. After a moment, Klaus rolls his eyes and walks over to a rusty green shipping container, which he opens to reveal Aurora sitting inside with a black hood over her head and her wrists bound behind her back. 

  - Tristan, still suspicious, turns back to Aya and tells her, "If they try anything, attack."

Aya nods in agreement, and Tristan vamp-speeds into the shipping container toward "Aurora". He takes off her hood, and her head rolls on her shoulders, still sedated from the drugs earlier. When Tristan looks back at Aya, Aya nods at the vampires standing guard over Hayley, allowing Klaus and Elijah to take her. "Aurora" wakes up when Tristan starts to break her bonds and smiles at him weakly.

Once they exchanged a few words Tristan pulls "Aurora" to her feed and she wraps her arms around him in a hug. As soon as they stopped hugging "Aurora" pulls out the Serratura and Tristan looks at her warily when he sees the medallion in her hand and slowly reaches out to take it from her, not knowing what she's trying to do.

Before Tristan can react further, "Aurora" slams the Serratura against the wall of the shipping container, which activates its power and causes the warehouse to shake for a moment as though an earthquake has just hit. The medallion remains stuck to the wall, and "Aurora" looks at Tristan with crazed eyes as Tristan, realizing what has just happened, tries to run out of the shipping container and is blocked by an invisible barrier. 

  - Tristan looks at "Aurora' in horror, "No.. Aurora.. What have you done to us?"

  - "Aurora" looks smug as she walks toward Tristan, "Not to us.." She says and much to Tristan's horror she walks right past the barrier and joins Elijah, Klaus and Hayley outside of it, "To you."

“Aurora” turns so she can face Tristan, but suddenly, a magical haze covers her before it is revealed that it was actually Cami the whole time and Natali and Freya just used a glamouring spell to make her appear to be Aurora instead. Tristan stares at them with a look of cold fury from inside the shipping container.

  - “What is this?” Tristan asked.

  - “You know what they say - payback's a bitch.” Cami says.

  - Tristan looked horrified, “How is this possible?”

  - “The Serratura creates an impenetrable boundary. Nothing living or dead can pass through.” Klaus says smugly.

  - “And, thanks to your lunatic sister, I'm neither.” Cami adds.

  - “No. No. NO!” Tristan's eyes widen in alarm when he realizes that he is truly trapped inside of the shipping container forever.

Klaus rushes over to Cami and puts his arm around her to keep her close.

Tristan stares at the Strix vampires, who don't seem to know what they should do.

  - “What are you waiting for? Take them! Now!” Tristan gave them an order.

Just as the Strix are about to obey this command, Elijah steps forward to address them himself, putting his body protectively in front of Hayley, who is still barely standing on her feet.

  - “Before you rush headlong toward almost certain death.. As your sire, I would like you to employ just a little bit of common sense.” Elijah spoke.

  - Aya scoffed, “We are ancient vampires, Elijah - each of us almost as strong as you.”

  - Elijah shrugs, “You might almost be successful in subduing us, but at what price? Most of you will die in the process, and for what? To avenge a fool marching you headlong toward your very extinction in the name of a witch's prophecy? You do realize he engineered absolutely all of this purely to satisfy some petty grievance against my family?” Elijah turns and walks toward the shipping container, smiling fakely at Tristan as he leans against the metal door, “Tristan doesn't care for any of you.”

  - Tristan was furious, “Stop listening to him!”

  - Elijah ignores him and continues, “The only danger here is the choice that you must make. You see, I am not your enemy.” He stops in front of Aya and nods in acknowledgment, “It's true, I delivered you into this existence. I can just as easily pluck you out of it. The choice is yours to make.”

Aya looks torn but continues to glare at Elijah as though she's entertaining the idea of fighting them anyway. Marcel, seeing what she's about to do, walks over and blocks her way as he whispers in her ear.

  - “It's done. The moment has passed. Be smart, Aya. Smarter than Tristan. Don't waste any more of our guys.” Marcel tells her.

  - Aya doesn't seem pleased that Marcel is ordering her around, but after a moment, she turns back to the rest of the vampires and tells them, “Stand down.”

  - Tristan only becomes more furious to see that the Strix have been convinced not to avenge him, “You will not abandon me!”

  - Aya walks toward where Tristan is trapped in the shipping container and gives him a regretful look, “It's a shame it has to end like this.” she says.

  - Tristan was enraged, “Aya, this isn't over!”

Aya puts her right hand over her heart in a sort of salute to her former leader.

  - “May the ghosts of our fallen keep you company.” Aya says coldly.

The Strix then begin to leave the warehouse, Aya included, through Elijah and Hayley stay behind. Tristan continues to shout after them.

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MASTERLIST

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