#alex' guide to safe binding

[residenttransguy]

Binding during summer

As the weather's getting warmer again, I thoight I'd share some tips with y'all about safe binding during this time of year.

1) As always, follow standard rules/guidelines for safe binding

2) I'm a sucker for layers, dark hoodies and long pants, but it's important to be mindful of overheating

- thinner clothes (makes it easier for the wind to pass through) and possibly fewer layers

- lighter footwear, thin socks, shorter hair and not wearing hoods n the likes are a great way to help the body dispose of excess heat

- even if you don't normally wear heavy clothing, it's important to look out for overheating as binding will increase the chances of it happening

- ice cubes and cooling pads are always great

3) Remember to stay hydrated - binding means you're more likely to sweat (tight, restrictive clothing will do that) so make sure you drink enough water

4) (it's part of standard safe binding, but imma mention it anyway) Never exercise in your binder

- if you need to, always wear a binder in a bigger size

- if you're going swimming and want to bind, some companies develop binders specifically for this purpose (if they aren't made for it, the binders will be damaged over time)

5) Wash your binders more often (sweat makes em nasty faster)

6) like usual, take breaks from binding whenever possible and make sure to stretch before and after wearing your binder

Listen to your body, stay cool and hydrated, and enjoy the good weather

[snailmail444]

Alex x Reader 🙈

All Tied Up

18+ 💚 NSFW 💚 MDNI

Alex x Reader

It’s the way I have been absolutely possessed the past few days. I’ve been in a huge writing slump but then the new year hit and my brain just. Decided to function? We’re riding the wave folks we’ll see how long it keeps up lol.

ANYWAY! Enjoy the third fulfilled ask in a week. I hope y’all aren’t sick of me yet lmao. NSFW under the cut and remember MDNI

“Are you sure you can’t break these?” You ask, pulling at one of the knots binding Alex to your bed.

Alex stares up at you, all big green eyes and still-confident smirk. “Even I can’t do that. I’ll prove it. But you don’t have to worry baby. It’s no sweat, I can behave.”

He flexes and you watch the veins in his arms protrude as he turns his wrists this way and that, trying and failing to find any give in your handiwork. A flush burns down your face, and your throat feels dry as you eye him up and down—large and muscular and completely at your mercy.

You would have never thought that Alex and his body builder physique would be in such a submissive position. Naked, spread eagle and tied to your bedposts, muscles taught and cock flushed. Laid out for you to devour however you please.

You run your palms up his chest, and his skin is hot against yours, smooth and solid as you work your way up. His pounding heart startles you, feeling how fast and hard it’s beating in his chest. For a minute you stall, feeling the strong rhythmic thump, and almost ask if he’s alright.

Almost, except you can see the way his cock twitches and precome beads at the tip just from your idle touches. You haven’t so much as breathed on it, yet it’s straining so hard already it’s obvious his heart rate isn’t due to nerves.

You straddle him, fighting your cocky smile away, and purposefully maintain eye contact as you suck one of his nipples. Alex instantly forgets his restraints, jerking an arm and making the bed-frame rattle. He was right—the knots aren’t going anywhere.

He pants out a heavy breath, and you hide your delight as you lavish attention on his other nipple. You won’t tease him for too long. Not this first time, anyway.

You push your hips back as you skim your teeth along his shoulder, making sure to rub it in that you can touch as much as you want by stroking up his ribcage, down his sides, along his arms.

Only a little more teasing, you think as you glide your wet cunt across his cock, pretending to have trouble guiding it in as you squeeze it’s base and coat it in your arousal.

“Ahh, please,” he whines, hips bucking as much as the pitiful give in his binds allow, “baby I can’t.”

“What happened Alex? It was no sweat what, two minutes ago? Not even?”

He opens his mouth to respond, and you stop him by sinking all the way down on his cock. His hands strain, and you can tell by the way he’s flushing and tossing his face to the side he’d be hiding in his hands to mute the stuttering moan that falls past his lips.

You don’t give him a moment of respite, electing to ride hard and fast. Without the use of his hands Alex can’t modulate your pace. Typically he’d slow you down, keep you steady, but now you’re allowed the free rein to completely ruin him.

“Ah, w-wait,” he huffs, hips twitching and grinding like he might be able to make you listen to him without using his safe word.

It’s too bad you aren’t in a listening mood.

He can’t take it for too long, biting his lip and breathing in stuttering gasps while he tries to stave off his orgasm.

“Ba-aby, I—“ Alex’s voice cracks, “I’m not gonna—hah—I’m really—“

Either he can’t hold himself off anymore, or he realizes you’re not going to listen, because Alex’s babbling ceases as his back arches and he comes with a whine, his muscles straining and flushed down to his chest.

Your cunt throbs as you slow down through his orgasm, gyrating against his hips until he stops twitching. He’s starting to catch his breath, and you bite down on a smile as you pick up the pace, watching as his face twists up.

“A-h-ah—you—I—“ his voice is a squeak, stopping abruptly as he feel you continuing to rock against his soft cock. A low-grade hum buzzing out of his chest continually as you ride him relentlessly. When it doesn’t stop, you finally still.

“Safe word?” You ask, stroking his cheek and feeling the heat of his skin against yours.

“Nuh—no,” he gasps out, bucking into your cunt despite the way it makes him cry out.

You smirk. This is going to be a fun night.

[ickeyandmian]

On Ian’s Reading Choices and His State of Mind in Prison

Okay so I don’t know if this has been covered already but I was curious about what books Ian was reading in prison and how this relates to his character so I’ve spent more time than I probably should have trying to compile a list based on one blurry screenshot.

This information serves no purpose really and idk most of these books were probably randomly picked up by the props department but it’s still fun to read into!

I think it’s safe to say that the prison library probably hasn’t had any new material for a while so we’ll assume that these aren’t all necessarily books that Ian would choose to read in normal circumstances and has picked them up simply to pass the time (but who knows, maybe the guy’s super into romantic fantasy).

I have not read any of these so I’m literally reading multiple books by their covers but whatever. Here’s some pointless half thought out meta based on what Ian read in prison, enjoy!

Detailed thoughts at the end but from top to bottom, left to right we have:

1. Knight of Darkness - Kinley MacGregor (2006)

This is volume 2 of a fantasy romance series (have you read vol. 1 Ian? U following the story okay?)

2. Circumpolar! - Richard A. Lupoff (1985)

Pulp Fiction sci-fi fantasy action fun according to google!

3. Fifth Planet - Fred Hoyle & Geoffrey Hoyle (1963)

4. A for Andromena - Fred Hoyle & John Elliot (1962)

Some 60s science fiction thrown into the mix

5. The Bard of Sorcery - Gerard Houarner (1986)

Another Fantasy novel. Well who can blame him, dude’s in prison.

6. Demon 4 - David Mace (1986)

Set in a fictitious WWIII, dealing with disarming a nuclear bomb. Maybe it appealed to Ian’s old military leanings.

7. Damiano’s Lute - R. A. Macavoy (1984)

Another romantic fantasy sequel. How likely is it for prisons to have complete series’? Did Ian read the first volume and like it so much he picked up the sequel? Questions that haunt me at night.

Interestingly, in the synopsis we learn that ‘Damiano Delstrego has forsaken his magical heritage to live as a mortal man’ and I may be reaching but you can tie links between that and Mickey giving up his freedom to be with Ian in prison...

8. A Lonely Planet Travel guide for Cambodia (1992)

I have no idea what the significance of Cambodia is. Maybe Ian is simply fantasizing of being able to go on vacation with Mickey 😭. Perhaps ties into the whole escapism theme there seems to be with this selection of books

9. Out to Canaan - Jan Karon (1997)

This seems like a kind of slice of life, easy read type book. A bit of realism in amongst all the fantasy and sci-fi.

10. Science and Human Behavior - B. F. Skinner (1953)

This is an interesting one. Maybe Ian was trying to understand why Mickey shits at the same time everyday who knows.

Jokes aside, there’s some interesting excepts, notably on severe punishment and it’s effects on human behaviour, possibly a very interesting read for someone serving time.

11. Prisoners of Our Thoughts - Alex Pattakos (2008)

Another non fiction and another fascinating addition in terms of Ian’s character. This book takes the teachings of Victor Frankl and deals with the psychology of finding meaning in your life (something which Ian has often struggled with).

A significant quote being ‘everything can be taken from a man but the last of the human freedoms - to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances’

Let’s remember that in season 6, Ian lost his purpose for being entirely, he had no ambitions, no career, no Mickey (😔) but he found his purpose again when he became an EMT, a job which is perfect for someone like Ian who has proven time and time again that all he really wants is to help people. Now, significantly, he’s lost that job and with it that sense of purpose he’d gained. As someone with bipolar disorder, this could have potentially affected him significantly, so for him to choose to read a book like this is a nice insight to his character and I love to see evidence of him doing something positive to take care of his mental well being while in prison.

12. The Holy Bible

Such a minuscule reference to Ian’s Gay Jesus phase, I actually love that they included this though. So by now Ian probably recognizes that he went a little out of control but, idk he went full ham on the bible stuff, and maybe he got some comfort out of some of the verses in there, so it’s cool that he keeps a bible around as part of that storyline.

13. Another bible

(Ian, u good?)

14. Peace like a River - Leif Enger (2001)

The synopsis describes an ‘unusual family’ in search of their ‘fugitive older brother’. I imagine the actual story itself probably has no parallels with Ian’s story but that line stuck out for me.

Also ‘peace like a river’ is a phrase taken from the bible, so that ties in with Ian’s spirituality again. Maybe he recognised the phrase from memorising verses so the book caught his eye.

15. The very last one I’m struggling to decipher, it looks old, probably a classic from the style of the binding. It might be Othello but I can’t get a clear shot to read the title, hopefully someone else might have some clue.

*

So what does it all mean? I hear no one asking.

While they might seem random, I think we see a lot of Ian’s character in these books.

The sheer amount of fantasy and sci-fi here is quite telling. I think it’s clearly a form of escapism for Ian, he’s trapped in a tiny cell (albeit with the love his life but it’s still fucking tiny in there okay) he’s gonna need some light-hearted adventure somehow.

He’s a guy with a lot of energy, a huge savior complex who just wants to do good. He’s tough, he’s a fighter, but he also has a softer side to him, a gentle nature so I think the romantic fantasy genre is a perfect fit for his character. Maybe there’s a bit of wish fulfillment there as well since watching your bf use the bathroom every night is hardly the most romantic scenario (sorry Mickey).

The non fiction choices are probably my favourite indicators of Ian’s character. I think we learn a lot about him from those choices there; his remaining spirituality, his state of mind, his hopes for the future, his curiosity. I just love the thought of Ian reading travel guides, hoping to one day see more of the world idk. And him reading books on psychology in the hopes of understanding himself and his mind better? We love to see it 👏👏👏

All in all, I think they’re a good fit for him, and I hope he enjoyed reading them!

I’d love to hear other people’s thoughts on this!

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

Hi, I'm sorry to bother. I just finished the two books: Carry on and Wayward Son. I am totally in love. I would like to thank you for that. You inspired me to read them❤😘 Anyway, my question is if you know any other book, of Rainbow Rowell or another writer, which is just as interesting. I prefer books with main gay characters. Thank you. XO❤

I’m ecstatic that you let me know!! I can’t tell you how happy that makes me! I am THRILLED that my blog inspired you to read those books and that you enjoyed them so. They are brilliant. Life changing. A source of joy and comfort and thought provoking insights.

If you liked Carry On and Wayward Son you may like Fangirl, which is where Baz and Simon make their first, indirect appearance. It is the book that brought me to Rainbow Rowell and ultimately led me to Carry On. I am a fan of all of Rainbow Rowell’s books—you can’t go wrong with any of them in my opinion.

As far as books with LGBQT+ protagonists: I can give you a list!

Alex In Wonderland by Simon James Green. This is a laugh out loud book about a boy’s summer job and the new friends he meets working at a run-down amusement arcade. 

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Saenz. Two boys meet by chance at a pool over the summer and forge a friendship that bonds them, gives them a glimpse at greater truths and changes both of their lives. 

Red, White and Royal Blue by Casey McQusiton. What happens when the First Son of the United States and the Prince of England are forced into a sham friendship as media damage control? They end up learning more about themselves, each other, falling in love, and what it means to fight for what you truly want.  

The Binding by Bridget Collins. A lush study of enchantment, the magic of books, memory and forbidden love. 

Simon vs. the Homo sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli. Not so openly gay Simon has a letter fall into the wrong hands and starts a clandestine email correspondence with someone who seems to understand him better than the people closest to him. 

Leah on the Off-Beat by Becky Albertalli. Set in the same universe as Simon vs. the Homo sapiens Agenda this book follows the story of Leah, Simon’s friend, and her tumultuous senior year of high school.

The Music of What Happens by Ben Koningsberg. Max and Jordan spend a summer working together in a food truck. It’s hot, it’s summer, business is not so good and there is definitely an undeniable attraction between them. 

What If It’s Us? by Becky Albertalli and Adam Silvera. A chance run-in brings Arthur and Ben together but is the universe conspiring to help them or hinder them? 

I Wish You All the Best by Mason Deaver. Ben comes out as non-binary to their family and their world is turned upside down when their family not only proves unaccepting but kicks them out of their home. Ben’s estranged sister provides a safe haven and Ben adjust to a new school and new friends, including Nathan Allan–who becomes a friend, a confidante and perhaps something more.

The Last True Poets of the Sea by Julia Drake. Violet and Sam have a famous relative who was the only survivor of a shipwreck off the Maine shore. FIdelia swam to shore, married and started a family and founded the town of Lyric. Violet and Sam may have shipwrecks in their own lives but so far they haven’t been the best at navigating them. Shipped off to the town of Lyric for the summer Violet makes new friends, new realizations, and new discoveries about famlly, the nature of friendship, siblings, and Fidelia’s true history. 

The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee. A Grand Tour of Europe turns out to be far from what Monty expected, when he, his sister Felicity, and his best friend Percy get involved in more than they bargained for on their European adventure. A quest for indolent pleasure leads to a manhunt, subterfuge, injury and generalized mayhem, as Monty learns more about himself and his true feelings for the boy he calls his best friend. 

Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner. Men live and die by the sword in Riverside but Richard St. Vier is no ordinary swordsman. And Alec, the poor student he encounters in a pub in the shady part of town, is anything but what he appears. Richard finds the line between hero and villain can change in the blink of an eye. 

Weak Heart by Ban Gilmartin (our very own @basic-banshee). Things aren’t quite as they seem on the Isle of Mab. Thomas Madigan is living in a nightmare–reality and the visions that come to him blurring further and further each day. his best friend/ former friend Kit Macrae is missing and selkie Isla has made her way to land in an effort to find him. Mystery, magic, and the sea with characters who grab onto your hear and linger in your head long after you finish the book. 

Ship It by Brita Lundin. Claire is a sixteen year old obsessed with Demon Heart. She gets the chance of lifetime when she meets her idols at a Comic-con but things don’t turn out as well as she expected. An unexpected road-trip, a new friend, insights into the reality of fandom and shipping, and a realization that she may have found something more than planned in her friendship with her new friend Tess. 

Heartstopper by Alice Oseman. Charlie and Nick go to the same school but had never met until they end up sitting together in class. Charlie is falling hard for Nick and Nick surprises Charlie and himself. A study of friendship, loyalty, mental health, and love. 

I Was Born for This by Alice Oseman. A book about the band The Ark and their fandom, in particular die-hard fan Angel Rahimiand, a most avid follower of the band. The Ark fandom has given her so much–friendships, dreams, her place in the world. When Angel finds herself face to face with her idols she learns reality is often far different than the slick images portrayed in the media and her loyalty to the Ark is tested and strengthened by their interactions. 

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller. A unique and utterly heart-wrenching, lyrical retelling of the story of Achilles and Patroclus. The Iliad comes to life–with the action of the Trojan War, an epic love story, and the private moments of two of mythology’s most charismatic and intriguing characters. 

[accidentally-a-writer]

i’ll make you the stars

Last night after some good ol fashioned academics I decided “hey I’m going to write something for my good friend @stegekay to wake up to.” and then as I wrote said thing I spiralled hard, so... she’s already awake but hey I finished it! 

This is another instalment of the Magic AU. 

... 

The first time Washington and Alexander try to do a lesson Washington comes away with bruised ribs and an acute understanding that he has no clue what he’s doing.

It’s amazing that Alexander is even still alive. He speculates it is because the boy has forced away his power for sixteen years, almost completely. If any of his magic trickled out Alex considered it a failure. He did this so proficiently that he somehow pushed away his own destruction too.

So when Washington calls on him to bring forth that power, so that he can begin to learn what being a mage actually is, he cannot control it.

It explodes away from him, unmatched in sheer force, and Washington goes flying into the stone wall. Alexander is terrified, horrified at what he’s done, and he expects a whip, a slap, something to punish him for hurting this man who’s only ever been kind to him.

Washington does no such thing, would never do any such thing. “I’m not hurt, Alexander,” he murmurs, seeing Hamilton’s horror-struck countenance for what it is, “Along with my main discipline I’m well versed in shielding; I didn’t feel a thing.”

It’s a lie. Washington wasn’t expecting that to happen, he had no time to erect a shield. He’s surely cracked a few ribs, but he’ll tell none of this to Alexander.

(It is Alexander now, somehow. He’d become Alexander so quickly, just a few weeks. He’s just a child - Washington’s ward - it is too formal to call the boy by his surname.)

If he were to tell the boy that he’d injured him the fear of doing so again would prevent him from making any new progress. He is too compassionate that way. He believes himself a weapon, a curse, something dangerous. But no, he certainly has the potential to be very, very dangerous, and if he were ever to go dark he would be absolutely fearsome, but that same compassion is exactly what makes Alexander and dark antonyms.

Laurens, one of his most trusted, tends to him privately in his chambers. He is no mage, not yet; his magic is an inherited one, when Henry Laurens passes his magic will pass to his son. It is not usually a painful happening, but it can be an emotional one. The magic Laurens is to inherit is healing and only healing - a white mage - but even without it the boy makes a fine caretaker.

“Do not mention this to Alexander,” Washington intones lowly. “His insecurities with his magic will only worsen, and he will never learn to control it if he cannot trust himself.”

“Yes sir,” Laurens replies, ever dutiful. He kneels beside the general’s chaise and gingerly inspects the wounds, binding them as he goes. “You’ve broken these two, and there are no healers stationed in the camp. They will be sore for a whiles yet, you must be careful.”

Washington grins fondly, Laurens is only twenty-two and yet he chastises Washington in such a way. He will make a fine white mage indeed.

Laurens is startled from his work by Washington’s hand against the back of his neck, a gesture of affection saved only for one’s closest family and friends. Washington in general is softer now, now that he has a ward (son, Laurens knew, just from watching them) to care for.

“Sir?” He looks up. Washington has promised his father that if he is still alive when John inherits the magic that he will guide him through the period of time when he will be overwhelmed by the new sensation, the new world made available to him through the power.

John does not know where this places him in Washington’s affections, but on his staff he is primary aide-de-camp. (His father had wanted to make a congressmen out of him - the horror.)

The hand withdraws and Washington says nothing.

“Your ward fares well,” Laurens starts again, unable to hold the general’s stare for too long. “I sent for the tutor, as you requested. He’s already well-read in three different languages; English, French and Latin. He’ll make a fine student in the subjects you see fit, I’m sure.”

“You may call him Alexander to my face, John,” Washington chuckles, “I know you do to his.”

“Yes sir.” John and Alexander had taken to each other almost immediately, Laurens fosters him under his wing as any big brother should do. The boy grins. “I think we all underestimated Alexander in some regard, Your Excellency, although not purposely. It is a funny thing that, because I by no means thought him lacking in intelligence, nor do I assume you thought him in need of any more power, and yet he still defies expectations.”

Washington grins again, and sits back in his place, taking a short sip of the whisky Laurens had poured before beginning to assist him. “Yes, he does.”

…

Alexander is like a fawn, Washington realizes. Timid, young. He’s been punished his entire life for being who he is.

The next time they enter the training room Alexander trembles, not for fear for himself but rather of himself.

“I don’t think we should- I can’t control it-”

“And you never will, not if we don’t keep trying.” Washington is ill prepared for an apprentice with this magnitude of power, who is also somehow fearful of said power, but Christ he isn’t going to lose this boy to it.

“Every time I try and surface it it tries to hurt you.” Alexander looks at him with widened eyes, worriedly chewing on his lip. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know, son. It’s not trying to hurt me, if it were I would have felt it by now, you’re a good person. It’s just out of control, not malicious.” Alexander is a child, what do children need that he was denied? (He was denied quite a few things, but there is no time for that here.) “We’ve tried this with you bringing your magic out alone, and it didn’t work. But you’re not alone anymore, this time we try together.”

George has no clue if this will work, or if it is safe for him.

“Let me see your hand, it’ll be alright,” he assures. Alexander looks terrified, but he extends his palm towards his guardian. Washington takes it, gently rubbing his thumb over his palm. “Close your eyes, try to trust me. Do you feel that buzzing sensation? Beating just a little under the skin?”

Alexander nods, not understanding why he is so at ease but welcoming it anyways. “Yes, and… you. I can feel you there too, like a… presence. And there’s an awareness that’s not quite me, like it’s whispering your feelings in my ear with no real words.”

“That presence is called an aura, some can see them, not many. All mages can feel them, the distance at which you can feel someone’s aura depends on how close you are with them; parents can feel their children from worlds away. As for the awareness… I daresay you surprise me again my boy - you’re an empath, you can sense how others feel.”

Alexander lets out a long breath, and George can feel him exploring their small connection. Maybe for the first time Alexander is feeling magic that is both not his own and in-control.

“That beating is how you know someone has magic,” Washington whispers, careful not to break his ward’s calm. “I felt it with you immediately.”

Gently, he adds another hand to their embrace. Hamilton’s fingers now trace along his palm, instead of vice versa, and Washington’s other hand rests softly over top of it. Alexander’s eyes are still closed, his breathing is still calm.

Washington searches for the boy’s magic unobtrusively, finding that buzzing and coaxing it ever-so-gently forward, a little bit at a time. He doesn’t know how long they stand there, it’s long enough that eventually Alexander feels his magic closer than he’s used to and starts away from it. It skitters away back to his core and the boy looks around them with frightened eyes.

“Look at me,” Washington murmurs, cupping the boy’s cheek, “you’re okay. You’re in control. I trust you, and it’s time for you to trust yourself.”

The moment that Alexander lets his magic surface again Washington feels his own snap forward, almost uncontrollably, and for a moment he’s afraid that something’s gone horribly wrong.

And then he realizes, nothing is wrong, it’s the opposite of wrong.

His magic snaps forward and meets Alexander’s where they touch, linked hands and a tender hold of the cheek, and it knots itself together with the boy’s and pulls tight.

Alexander gasps, his knees buckle but Washington is there to catch him. Hands grip at his back and scramble for purchase and he can hear Alexander gasp and maybe sob and he can feel Alexander desperately try and make sense of what’s happening.

“W-what what is this?” Washington lowers them both to the ground, stunned himself. “What’s happening? Why do I feel…?”

Snapping out of his stupor Washington pulls Alexander in close, running a hand through his hair soothingly. “It’s alright,” he hushes, “it’s called a bond. It’s a very sacred thing, your bonded is the closest anyone will ever be to you, it’s a connection unlike any other. Parents and children, husbands and wives, the best of friends and brothers and sisters alike can bond, there’s no connotations to it.”

“I- I feel you, it’s so strong.”

“I know, it’s overwhelming at first. People don’t usually choose who they bond to, some can.”

“H-how are you so… don’t you feel this?” Alexander’s tone is verging on hysterical, he’s scared and overwhelmed and Washington doesn’t blame him. He sends a wave of calm over the boy, who relaxes in his grip.

“I was bonded once before,” Washington murmurs into his ear, “my wife. She got very sick a few years past now, and we were happy together and she was too young, but she was ready to go when she did. We bonded the moment we decided to pursue a courtship, which all but made that day our engagement. Because she was ready the bond faded gently, so even though it was the lowest point of my life it wasn’t not overly painful. If it hadn’t been so I would be in pain even still.”

The severity of Washington’s words startles Hamilton. Sacred he’d said, this bond was sacred. The general was awfully calm for having just entered such a… a… an agreement with his boy ward.

“What does it mean?” He finally asks.

“It means, my dear boy, that you and I are now connected in what some believe to be the soul, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

…

It becomes easier after that to teach Alexander his magic. They start small, manifesting lights.

There’s so much about magic Alexander never dreamt of knowing - it’s an entire world that he’s somehow missed his entire life despite being right in the midst of it.

“There’s three main disciplines of magic,” Washington explains, “Mind, Elemental, Regenerative. Every mage has a natural affinity for one of these disciplines and sometimes that affinity is influenced by what your teacher is.”

“And what are you?” Alexander has become more comfortable as of late, more willing to use that quick mind and sharp tongue of his.

“I’m an Elemental son. When you had accidental releasements what would happen? Would people suddenly obey you or would it be more like some object or another went flying, burst into flame, incidents of that manner?”

Alexander doesn’t like talking about what he now knows are called ‘accidental releasements’ but for Washington he swallows the lump in his throat and answers. “Things flying, catching on fire, growing right next to me.”

“Then you’re naturally an Elemental too,” Washington beams, inexplicably feeling like a proud father. “But we don’t need to worry about that any for a whiles, there’s subdisciplines of magic which any mage can learn to control, save the white mages, who can only use healing powers.”

Sometimes when his guardian talks Alexander feels like he should be taking notes, but even when he forgets things the general has been patient with him, re-explains his point over and over until Alexander remembers.

“Shielding, which I am proficient at,” Washington continues, “everyday magic, which is nonsensical things that we learn to make our everyday tasks a little easier, and illusion magic.”

At this Washington opens his hands and from them thousands of glowing stars explode from them, surrounding the two men and cocooning them in their own little galaxy. Alexander’s mouth parts in amazement, his eyes lighting up with awe at his surroundings.

“They’re beautiful,” he breathes, reaching out tentatively to touch one of them.

“Illusion here does not mean that what you are seeing is false, it just means you are the one to manifest the image.”

Washington watches Alexander examine the lights, and he finds himself filled with a different kind of warmth. Love, he realizes, he loves the boy. The scene before him could make him grin but with that same realization swirling in his mind, he does.

Alexander is an excellent student, Washington knew he would be. It takes time, at first, for the boy to simultaneously keep his magic unlocked and control it, but the more they work the more that will become second nature, as it is for all mages.

Months pass, and Laurens becomes a brother to Alexander, and Lafayette too, and Washington an unspoken father. The lights are still his favourite lesson.

In the evenings and afternoons after his studies Alexander is either off with Laurens and the Marquis or in Washington’s office. When he is in Washington’s office the man allows him to answer a few correspondences for him, but makes it perfectly clear he’ll not be enlisting until he’s eighteen.

Washington finds him in his bedroom sometimes, long past when he should be asleep, reading by the light of a ball of light he’d manifested, and though he has the good manner to appear sheepish it is a common occurrence.

Sometimes too, he enters Washington’s sitting room, and Alex doesn’t say anything but he sits next to the general and Washington feels through their bond whether he’s content and merely seeking company or if he is here to take solace in it.

Either way he pulls the boy closer and dims the lights and he makes the stars for him and they sit like that for hours, Washington gently carding a hand through Alexander’s hair and Alexander listening to Washington’s heartbeat until he’s asleep.

It is the happiest Washington can remember being since before Martha took ill, and he knows she would have loved Alexander too. She would be happy that they’ve bonded, Alexander completes him and without children of his own Washington is happy to let that place be filled by his ward, and even Laurens and Lafayette, who take care of him in ways only brothers can.

It’s a year of bliss.

And then a messenger arrives, bearing news of a captured British mage. They’ll be bringing him here.

[magewriter]

Kalex: Alpha/Omega (no smut necessary) Someone has tampered (possibly Lex or Lord) with the suppressants to make them redundant in National City so the DEO need to make an emergency supply, unfortunately everyone is suffering the affect of theirs not working, Kara loses her powers due to heat approaching and Alex get ferociously protective about Kara when others start sniffing around her. If this is the kind of thing you would rather not write I totally understand.

Here you go, and thanks for the prompt!

So…that Happened

Someone has tampered with the suppressants to make them redundant in National City. The DEO and other scientists rush to fix it, unfortunately everyone is suffering the affect of theirs not working.

Oh I do love a challenge!

Words: 1499

I own nothing and this is in response to a fic request on tumblr. Please send more!

==============

Later, Maxwell Lord would swear that his intention had not been the end result. His goal had been to create a pheromone that would repel non-humans, ostentatiously geared toward pests but suspected to be a bio-weapon against aliens.

What he actually created and subsequently released via ‘lab accident’ caused the suppressants taken by the humans and other species whose biology followed alpha/beta/omega lines to become redundant. Thankfully, the effect had not been able to travel beyond the edge of the city limits.

At first, no one thought anything of it. The product on hand was disposed of and new was brought it. The first cycle was a little rough, but people were at least prepared for it.

The second was worse because everyone thought they were safe.

The DEO, L-Corp, and even CADMUS got to work trying to undo what Lord had done. As the suppressants worked their way out of systems, heats and ruts were rougher and more prevalent. Violence skyrocketed as those unmated and young fought to control urges no longer under their control.

“Alex, you need to sleep.” Kara tugged on her alpha’s shirt. “Please.”

The Kryptonian was a mess. She had been out almost full-stop breaking up and trying to deescalate fights between everyone. She had never seen betas so stressed out trying to keep the peace. The entire city had been placed under quarantine and martial law.

It didn’t help that the closer her heat came, the weaker she was. It wasn’t a solar flare, but she wasn’t superpowered either.

“We need to fix this,” Alex growled. “We can’t keep living like this.” She had already thrashed several other alphas over their leering at Kara.

Kara wrapped her arms around the older woman. “I know,” she whimpered. They weren’t mated yet, although it wasn’t for lack of trying on Kara’s part.

Alex was stubborn.

“I know, but you aren’t going to find the solution if you exhaust yourself. Even Lena’s taking a break, although that might be because otherwise she would be killing her board members.”

“I’ll help her hide the bodies,” Alex grunted. She turned, wrapping her own arms around Kara and burying her face in the blonde’s neck. She took in the omega’s scent and felt her knees buckle. “Rao Kara, how close is your heat?”

Kryptonians only went into heat or rut three times a year. Humans went roughly every six to eight weeks. Alex felt as if she had been in hell for the last six months. The suppressants offered by the DEO were stronger than what was openly available to the public so had lasted longer, but not by much.

“Maybe a few days,” Kara admitted softly. She knew Alex’s rut was even closer, could feel it.

“And you’ve still been out,” Alex felt the growl building in her chest. It was going to be like high school all over again.

“Someone has to be.” James and Winn were out of commission. Many at the DEO were in the same shape. Lucy had already locked herself and Vas up in a cell. J’onn could only be in so many places. M’gann had taken the form of a Green Martian to help him. Nia had been sent home because she had been using her powers to the point of nosebleeds, partly due to the stress of being a beta.

The whole city had gone insane.

“Not you this close to your heat,” Alex insisted. She looked up just in time to catch sight of several agents she knew to be alphas looking into her lap, their focus on the blonde in her arms.

She snarled, showing off the incisors that were sharper with the onset of her rut. Kara was hers. Her hold tightened.

Kara huffed. “We could avoid the posturing if you weren’t so stubborn.”

Alex huffed. “You really want to bind yourself to me?”

“I have since we were teenagers,” Kara nipped at Alex’s neck.

“Kara,” Alex hissed.

Kara whimpered, burying her face into Alex’s neck. “Alex, please.”

Alex grit her teeth. If she gave in…

So what if she did? They weren’t teenagers anymore. They were practically already together.

What was the worst that would happen: they would end up happy?

She was already happiest when she was with Kara.

“Home, now,” Alex growled.

They emerged from the apartment three days later, fresh markings on their necks and far more relaxed than possibly ever. Kara was having a difficult time keeping her feet on the ground. Alex’s hand in hers was probably the only thing keeping her from floating away.

Alex felt the same way. Her mind was buzzing, clearer than it had been in months.

Their calm was broken by their shared best friend storming into Alex’s lab.

“Where the hell have you been?” The frazzled Lena Luthor demanded. She wrinkled her nose as she took them in. “Fucking finally. Have you had any time to look over the latest panels?”

“Just doing so now,” Alex held up the file. “I had an idea…and are you okay?”

Eyes blown, she stared at them as if they had lost their minds. “While you’ve been wallowing in mating bliss, I have come this close,” she held her hand up, “to murdering my entire board, my mother, and every fucking alpha that came within five feet of me.”

“Lena, sweetheart,” Kara took her hand, “your fingers are touching. Have you eaten or slept at all in the last week?”

“Are there any bodies you need help hiding?” Alex glanced up from the files. “And this should work.”

“Alex,” Kara glowered at her. “Lena, let’s get you some food and a bed. Alex can start working on the suppressants while we do that, okay?” Gently, she guided the other woman out of the lab and towards the cafeteria.

“I’m serious about the bodies!” Alex called after them, chuckling at Kara’s indignation and Lena’s comment on keeping it in mind.

She dove into the research Lena had poured her frustrations and stress into. Her beta friend was a genius in many ways, even if she was bad at taking care of herself. It was a good thing they had Kara to take care of them.

Her mate was no slouch in the intelligence department either, and it was Kara who pointed out the missing link in their formula.

They had new suppressants out within four days.

“If he ever leaves the cell you threw him in, remind me to buy out more of his company,” Lena settled back into her chair in the Danvers’ apartment. She raised her wine glass. “To never having to deal with this kind of mess ever again.”

“Here, here!” Alex raised her beer bottle and clinked it against Lena’s glass.

“To us,” Kara added her can of soda to the toast, “and our ability to thwart megalomaniacs with ideas of grandeur.”

Lena snorted. “Yes, and against a supposed genius who got his grand plan from a Saturday morning cartoon.”

Kara snorted. Lena wasn’t far off the mark. She leaned back further against Alex, allowing the scent of her mate to surround her even as Alex’s free arm came up to wrap around her shoulders to bring her even closer.

Lena smirked at them. “You both won me a lot of money and favors, mating when you did.”

Kara giggled. “That’s what Jess said, also something about a vacation on a private island off the coast somewhere?”

“Consider it my wedding gift,” she told them. “There is a wedding to be had, isn’t there?”

Alex held up her wrist where an amber-colored metal bracelet with the El crest now rested. Kara wore a matching one. “This is good enough for me, although my mother might have an issue of no actual ceremony.”

“We can have one,” Kara set her drink aside so she could stretch out on the couch with her head in Alex’s lap. “But I do agree with Alex on not wanting some large affair.”

“So a judge and a few witnesses,” Lena replied.

Both of her friends laughed at the idea. The marks on their necks and the bracelets on their wrists were more than enough for them.

Still…

“Oh please, you two act as if anyone would actually be surprised.” Lena downed her glass. “J’onn has money on the Wednesday three weeks from now. I only beat him out on this by two days.”

Neither questioned how she knew who had bets when.

“Isn’t it cheating if you share that information?” Kara turned her head to look at her. Alex readjusted her hand so she could continue stroking the blonde’s hair.

“Only if I use it for personal gain.”

“You want to make sure James doesn’t win.” Alex smirked at their friend.

“Perhaps,” she smiled smugly at them. “Did you know that Major Lane and Agent Vasquez are expecting? There’s already a pool going on the sex of the pups.”

“Oh we know,” Alex smiled down at Kara. “They aren’t the only ones.”

[post-itpenny]

Alone

Short but I was too excited to wait till tomorrow. I’ve been waiting for this part for a very long time. Tagging @grotesquegabby because Alex.

“So one of my kids and one of your kids are gonna be freaks in the sheets then?” Jackal laughed as he wiggled his eyebrows at Bridgette. The elder rolling her eyes while Maggie slapped her forehead. How was she related to this guy again?

“She will have my power but take after you quite a bit.” Bridgette explained.

Maggie groaned, wow isn’t that fantastic to hear?

“More importantly,” Bridgette continued, “once she is orphaned I want you to find her and send her to Lethe’s girl. They will need each other.”

Lethe was pacing the floor, agitated. “You want to use an innocent life to get rid of your problem. You made the fix point, you get rid of it!”

Bridgette shook her head, “I have tried and failed. Jack will be drawn to her and the Blackwood children’s tendency to self-destruct will be vital to destroying him. I will guide Maggie to using the time-string realm as a safe place to cause the black hole.”

Lethe froze, “I know your secret, your weakness. You’re linked directly to that realm, it will kill you Bridgette.”

Jackal turned to Bridgette in alarm, the elder nodded in resignation. “As you said, it is my problem to get rid of. Blackwood has always felt an immense guilt his descendants are so fragile and he will be desperate to save just one. He will bring her back and when he does it will be his undoing.”

“But you will die.”

“Yes…”

They were all three silent for a moment. Maggie processing what she had learned. All of it had been planned, her whole life and the lives of her family laid out by someone else. She felt… she didn’t know how she felt. Maggie day on the floor watching the three elders, absentmindedly rubbing her stomach. Wondering offhand if an existential crisis was good for the baby.

“Maggie.”

The redhead looked up in alarm, Bridgette looking directly at her, the others watching in confusion.

“Do not doubt yourself. You are young and reckless but I picked you over your mother for a reason. I wouldn’t have anyone else to replace me when I’m gone.”

The Jackal grinned, “oh so she’s eavesdropping? I like her already!”

“Did you get stuck walking backwards to this moment?” Bridgette questioned. “If you listen to what Lethe has to say I will I strict you on how to go forward again. Tom will be waiting when you wake up.”

Lethe seemed uncertain, turning to what she saw as a blank space but knowing someone from the future was watching them. “Your name is Maggie? I hope to meet you soon, but first you must know just how much Blackwood ruined his children.”

_____________________________________

Blackwood backed up in alarm. Peregrine was still gasping in pain but held his ground. His family crowding around him while Alex knelt beside Magpie.

“Peregrine my boy, what are you doing? Get away from that fiend.”

Peregrine growled, “funny story. Adeline sent word of trouble. I went to her home and found no one. Your scent was all over the place however.

“I came to save Magpie and Adeline! That- that creature,” Blackwood shouted as he pointed accusingly at Lethe. “That thing was attacking Adeline and-“

“Don’t lie!” Lethe shouted. “I was there yes but I was watching over the young one! Waiting for the right time. You came to take her away and Adeline refused-“

“She’s a liar Peregrine-“

“You attacked the Elder of Healing Blackwood, what did you do to her?”

“Peregrine Lethe is a-“

“Shut it!”

Blackwood stepped back in surprise at Juno who had shouted. Peregrine turning to his daughter.

“Dad you know this is wrong. Ask Aunt Pie what happened!”

Blackwood chuckled, “oh yes as the mute one for answers.”

Peregrine bristled, Blackwood realizing the mistake in his words before Lethe stepped around her decedent.

“What did you do to Adeline? What did you do to all of them hmm? I know your secret Blackwood, it’s why you hate me so much. I know what you are. A liar, fraud, murderer, cheat.”

“Stop it!” Blackwood roared, “I will not have you poisoning what is mine.”

“You don’t own them Blackwood! These people owe you nothing! Your descendants do not exist to adore you!”

As the two elders argued Alex wrapped an arm around a very upset Magpie’s shoulder. “Hiya Pie it’s a rough day yeah? How about you and me blow this place and go have some fun?”

Magpie smiles at her friend and nodded before doubling over in pain again. Her chest glowed as if she has swallowed a star, the light spreading out through her veins and lighting up her whole body.

“Oh shit,” Vespers cursed as he and his mother joined them on the floor. Holding Magpie’s hand tightly as she cried in silence. “Is this the thing Maggie was telling me about?”

Alex nodded and took Magpie’s other hand, “it’s all good Pie just breath.”

“Let go.”

They looked up, Lethe looking down at the group. “She has to let go, stop fighting Magpie.”

Blackwood panicked, “she’s falling apart! Let me help her!”

Ropes appeared from nowhere, binding and dragging the group apart leaving Magpie alone on the floor. Lethe hissed and spat as she tore at her restraints. New ones appearing as fast as she broke free. “Magpie please just let go!”

Blackwood knelt in front of Magpie, “hello sweetheart I’m sorry about the mess. Let me take you back and we’ll get you all fixed up right as rain. I had stop by Adeline’s to give you this.”

Blackwood held out his hand, a red ribbon lay folded in his palm. Her ribbon.

“I remember giving this to you as a baby,” he laughed as he tied the ribbon into her hair. “There now perfect. Let’s go shall we?”

Blackwood held out his hand but Magpie would not take it. She had no strength to fight him but she was too afraid to not fight off the pain that was threatening to consume her.

“Magpie!”

They turned, Maggie running into the room followed by an elder wearing a Jackal mask.

“Magpie listen to Lethe she’s telling the truth!”

From where she was restrained Lethe seemed to sigh in relief, “so you really were there? You’re Maggie?”

Maggie nodded with a shy smile as she turned back to Magpie. “Trust her please.”

Magpie was shaking in pain and fear. Her brother fighting to free himself and Alex growling in annoyance as Fanny chewed at his bindings. Magpie was alone, but had she not always been? She relaxed, her body consumed in light.

Magpie screamed.

[shannyfishwriter]

Supergirl: “Displaced” 08

Title: Displaced Rating: T Summary: Alex is displaced.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Present

It was peaceful.

There was pain, but then...there wasn't.  

Alex knew what this was.  The drugs that were trying to keep her comfortable weren't masking the reality of the situation.  She'd likely been out for some time.  The beeping of the machines monitoring her condition sounded so loud when she focused on them.  The Norsoi Virus was still in her system, it was still killing her...she'd finally gotten home only to die.  Alex knew that her mother would be doing everything that she could to save her, but Alex knew that it was useless (or at least it very much seemed that way to her).  She felt so heavy, it was from the drugs she knew...she had a weird headache...and she couldn't manage to open her eyes.  It was almost overwhelming, Alex hated to lose control (especially of herself).  With all of that, she tried to focus on what had given her the feeling of peace.  Drawing in a breath, she pushed it out slowly (or at least that's what it felt like she was doing in her mind).  

A voice.

"We are never lost, never afraid, for we shrink not under the sun of righteousness."

Kara.

It wasn't even the voice or the words, but it was feeling...she could feel her sister there.  The love and hope emanating from her sister.  Kara had lost so much when she was so small...and all Alex could think in that moment was that she hoped that J'onn would explain everything to her mother and to Kara.  She knew that Kara could teach Ayrdaen so much, not just about Earth but also about hope.  

"Rao binds us to those we love, he gives us strength when we have none."

Listening to her sister's words, Alex just imagined Kara standing there.  There was something soothing about the prayer even if Alex didn't worship Rao.  Maybe it was Kara's voice, her presence, or maybe it was even the words she was speaking…  

"And in the darkest places, he guides us...for Rao sees all, feels all, his love eternal."

Focusing on her breathing, slow and steady, she just listened.  Alex allowed herself to enjoy that moment.  Kara was holding her hand and though all Alex wanted to do was squeeze it, she couldn't manage it...but she so wanted to just let her sister know that she could hear her.

"Rao protect us, so that we might protect others…"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"So, I don't want you to worry about things…  Kara's been saving people still, though, I don't know that I've ever actually seen her tired...it's weird."  The was a pause.  "But don't worry...J'onn did that whole space dad thing and ordered her to go take a nap...and eat something."

Since Winn had come to work at the DEO, they'd become closer.  Winn had become a friend to her, he wasn't just Kara's friend...and he genuinely felt like part of their family.  He was like the brother that she and Kara had never wanted, but fell in love with just the same.  They were all so good for each other and Alex was glad that they had Winn...he was even good for J'onn (though she doubted he would ever admit it).

"And J'onn's grumpy...but that's because you're still asleep...and like he and Eliza keep arguing...but that's because they're both concerned about you.  They both want you to be okay...and of course, they're not the only ones…"

She could hear tapping.  Alex knew that he probably had a tablet with him or maybe his phone.  It was better to listen to than focusing on the sounds of the medical equipment, less stressful.  She appreciated noise that was different and even wished she was strong enough to ask Winn to put on music for her (she didn't even care what was on).  

"You know, that kid, Ayrdaen...she's a funny girl...she tried to pass herself off as Kryptonian.  I bought it, but then I realized one of the reasons Kara didn't…  She knows a lot of the basic things, but she doesn't know the language…not enough of it.  Kara just got upset until J'onn showed up and pulled them apart."

Ayrdaen had tried to do what Alex had told her to do.  She was only a child, Alex knew that there was only so much she could do.  Kara had to already be upset about Alex being unconscious and about the fact that she didn't have long to live (even if they prolonged her life).  At least it sounded like J'onn had been there to intervene.  Him knowing about Ayrdaen made her feel a little less weighted.

"I still think she's impressive.  I mean, she's like five or six or something...or maybe she's just short and looks young."  Winn paused again.  "Look, I don't know who she exactly is...or why you had her with you.  All I know is that we're going to keep her safe because that's what you were trying to do...that's what you would want."  He pause again, a sigh filling the air.  "And you know, she's just going to have to deal with J'onn being a grumpy space dad...with a heavy side of grumpy…  I'm sure she's tough and can deal with it.  I mean, the rest of us are doing it."

Even though Winn's voice sounded light and even cheerful about everything he was telling her, she wondered if J'onn was really able to continue with the burden she'd placed on him.  It had never been the plan.  She shouldn't have been released from the pod early...she and Ayrdaen should have been kept there until there was a cure for the Norsoi Virus.  Alex thought that maybe if she could wake up, maybe she could convince them to put her and Ayrdaen back into the pod...if it still worked properly.  

"I think Benanti's trying to keep morale high, she's been bringing double donuts, so you know things are serious around here..."  A beat passed.  "Just...get better.  I don't care if it's science or alien tech...or even a miracle.  Just wake up and be better, Alex.  We all need you."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Alex felt like her head was a whirl of her life on Earth and the last two years on Thoron.  It was the medication, she knew that.  Her head wasn't right.  If it wasn't the medication, then it was the virus.  Either way, she felt like time was slipping away.  

Alex.

J'onn was in her head.  It was a welcome visit.  She almost wished that it was like when Kara had been attacked by the Black Mercy and Alex had gone into her sister's head.  If only they could communicate in that way.  So, she just tried to concentrate on what she wanted J'onn to know and hoped that he'd understand...that he'd hear her.  She concentrated on Ayrdaen, keeping her image in her head, and thought about keeping her safe.  

We're here, Alex.  

And somehow she knew that he meant that it was him and Ayrdaen, they were together there with her.  Alex wondered if that meant that J'onn was keeping her close in order to keep her out of trouble with Kara and to keep a close eye on her.  Though, there was also a possibility that he'd brought in M'yrnn to help with Ayrdaen, maybe another Green Martian would be easier than explaining it to her mother and sister.  

This isn't right.

And this time, it wasn't J'onn...it was Ayrdaen…

All of the sudden, Alex found herself pulled on a ride through memories that were hers...but not quite yet hers…  

They were Ayrdaen's memories of when she was smaller...of from before Alex met her in the future.  They were on Thoron, Alex immediately recognized that...in a park that she'd taken Ayrdaen to on several occasions.  Her future self had longer hair that was braided off to the side, a tiny Ayrdaen was sitting in her arms as she sat on the blanket, M'gann was dishing up food, and J'onn was talking about something that was making them all laugh the most contagious laugh...even Ayrdaen.  It was like the most precious bottled moment of happiness, even without the context of the laughter...it was something to treasure.  

Home.

And Alex felt like there was so much more behind Ayrdaen's meaning.  It felt like it meant that home was that moment for the girl, not just Thoron and those were her parents.  Though, Alex was certain that Ayrdaen was much rather be on Thoron with J'onn and M'gann.  But maybe Ayrdaen was understanding that home didn't have to be a specific place...or even specific people…  When Alex was younger, home for her was always the happy memories of her family all together right before her father 'died'.  

Home was always important.

So was family.

She'd always tried to tell Ayrdaen stories about Kara and J'onn...and adventures she and Kara had when they were little.  She talked about her parents, the good times and the rocky times.  Alex had thought it was important to tell Ayrdaen all about the family she'd never know...if nothing else, maybe it would teach her more about her human side and Earth.  

Focusing on a memory of her own, Alex hoped that it was how you shared something with Green Martians.  She thought about a time right before she'd thought she'd lost her father.  She and Kara were actually getting along and her parents were happy together.  They were in Midvale, it was a perfect sunny warm day, nice enough to go to the beach together...something that they didn't do enough.  Her parents had packed a picnic and it had been a rare day where they'd just spent the entire day together smiling and laughing.  

Home, she thought.

But Alex pushed another thought into her mind.  Another memory.  Something that she needed to share, to show Ayrdaen.  She chose a more current memory, one that took place in National City.  It was a night that she, Kara, J'onn, Winn, and James were all together at the alien bar.  It wasn't anything special, they were just drinking and eating together.  That moment, though, they were happy and together and that's all that mattered.

Home, she thought again.

Home and family could be more than one place...more than one group of people.  Alex felt like it was so important for Ayrdaen to know that.  Even if she was gone, she could have a home...she could have a family there in that timeline with J'onn, Kara, her mother, Winn, and...well, anyone that J'onn felt would help keep her safe.  She was going to die and the future that Ayrdaen came from was never going to happen.

Don't give up.  Not yet.

J'onn's voice in her head was the last thing she heard before she slipped back into the dark void.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Are you supposed to be in here?"

"Have a donut, Vasquez."

"A donut isn't going to change things if we're supposed to be letting her rest."

Alex could clearly hear that Vasquez had snagged a donut from Benanti's box.  She wished that she could wake up and have one, she'd have to tell Benanti that she owed her one (or a whole box) if she ever woke up and felt like she could actually eat one again.  No matter how much she wished she could have a donut now, it was nice to have a variety of visitors even if she wasn't good company.  It made her feel a little more like she got to see everyone again (even if she technically wasn't).  

"What are you two doing in here?"

If she could have smiled, she would have in that moment.  Adler was there now.  She'd probably been looking for her wife and probably hadn't expected to find her hanging out with Vasquez at her bedside.  

"Keeping Danvers up to date on what's going on," Vasquez said.

Now Benanti was speaking, with what sounded like her mouth full (probably of donut).  "As morale officer--"

"You're not the morale officer," Adler countered her wife.

A beat passed.

"As morale officer," Benanti started again, this time her voice sounded clear.  "It is my job to check in on Agent Danvers and obviously...to remind her that she's not allowed to have some deadly virus because that makes the boss and Supergirl far too cranky...and they're no fun to deal with when they're cranky.  I think I've gained ten pounds because of all the extra donuts in the last couple of weeks."

Weeks.

Had it been that long?

No wonder she felt like she had no strength.

Whatever they were doing had to be barely keeping her tethered to the world...to life.

"C'mon you two," Adler said.  "Let her rest.  The boss is probably wondering where we went off to anyways, we need to get ready for that op."

And then they were gone and she was alone.

Weeks...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I wish they'd stored the research you'd done on the virus in that pod with you," she heard her mother say.

Alex thought that if her mother only knew how long she'd worked on it (and how long her future self had...and her future mother...and who knew who else had also worked on it) that maybe she would have realized how futile it was.  Nonetheless, she didn't mind listening to her mother talk in that moment.  She'd missed it.  

"I'm going to figure it out."

She wouldn't.

"I need help, though…"

And there was something in her mother's voice that made Alex worry.  

"It's never right for a parent to lose a child...and I won't lose you."  

There was so much pain and fear in her mother's voice as it broke.  She could feel her mother's hand on her face and then her lips as she kissed her forehead.  Alex so wished that things could be different, but so many had tried...and so many had failed...and died.

"I tried to explain to J'onn and Kara, but they don't understand...and you probably wouldn't either, but I have to try to do whatever I can, Alex.  I won't lose you."

And she wished she could make her death easier on her mother...on her family, but death was not an easy thing.  Death was cruel, even when it seemed merciful.  Alex just wanted to spare those she loved pain and to understand that it was okay to let her go.  Maybe if Ayrdaen had been closer to her, then maybe it would be easier for everyone...because her mother and Kara would have Ayrdaen to focus and love with her gone.  There was so much, though, that felt wrong and made Alex worry about how people would be after they finally let her go.

"All I've ever wanted since the moment I knew I was pregnant with you, Alex, was to keep you safe...to protect you...and I promised myself I'd do anything to do that.  J'onn's trained you to take care of yourself...but right now...right now I'm going to do what I think I need to in order to save you...and I hope you forgive me."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It had been quiet and she'd been in and out of the half consciousness she'd been in.  She was still too weak to move or open her eyes.  Alex had been pulled closer to consciousness, though, when it sounded like all hell was breaking out in the DEO.  Instinct made her try to wake up and get into gear to help...but she couldn't do anything but listen and hope that everything was okay.  

"Hurry!"

It was her mother's voice.

But it was the weapon's fire that caught her attention and made her heart race.  There was nothing Alex could do, but listen...listen and hope that her mother was safe.  She could hear the monitors echoing her upset and fear, the beeping that she'd drowned out before was quick and in sync with the pounding in her ears.  

"We have to hurry," her mother said to someone else who was in the room.  Alex hadn't heard another voice, but had assumed that it was one of the other DEO agents that was securing the medical bay.  "I'm afraid if they stop us that we'll really lose her…"

"That's not going to happen."

And she immediately recognized the other voice.  It wasn't a DEO agent...it wasn't anyone who should have been in the DEO and she immediately understood why there was so much chaos going on.  Her mother had voiced her wanting to do anything to save her and she'd certainly gone to the last person that Alex would have asked for help when it came to the virus.

"This is going to work."

He sounded so confidant and Alex was just flat out terrified.  Not for what was going on in that room, but that her mother had gone to such lengths and had to have used a sample of the virus to replicate anything that might fight it.  The timeline that had originally existed had to have certainly been altered, which was something that M'gann had been concerned about, though she was fairly sure that J'onn would have preferred that they had been able to combat the virus when Cadmus first developed it.  What if this was how it came into Cadmus' hands?  Some weird timey whimey swap?  

"GET AWAY FROM HER!" she heard Kara shout before the sound of glass shattering added to the chaos.

Alex was overwhelmed, but she didn't miss the burning sensation that had to be coming from an IV because it travelled from her hand upward.  It didn't hurt, but it wasn't comfortable.  It reminded her of a sedation drug she'd had in the past.  

"What have you done?!" Kara demanded.

"What we had to do."

"Kara, please!" her mother pleaded.  "You have to understand!"

Kara wouldn't.

"Someone get a medical team in here!" she heard J'onn yell next.

Alex started to choke and that was when her eyes flipped wide open to the dimmed bay lights over head.  She couldn't breathe, her whole body fought to survive.  Concerned faces were immediately hovering over her and when she turned her head to the side she saw the medical team running in and J'onn in the doorway.  But it was Kara, her mother, and her father who were looking down at her.  

Her father.

It still didn't make it right, even if he'd been able to combat the virus.

"Relax, Alex," Jeremiah coached.  "The tube is helping you breathe right now, let it."

She felt her mother squeeze her hand and she just felt an overwhelming rush of anger and relief and shock.  Alex struggled for a few seconds longer before making herself relax enough that the machine could do its job.  

"You need to get back," Doctor Hamilton instructed them both and pushed past them, but didn't make Kara move.  Alex watched as the doctor immediately started to check her vitals.  "Agent Danvers, I need you to stay as calm as you can, okay?"

Alex nodded ever so weakly.  

"I don't want to remove any equipment until we better understand what was given to you and how that's affecting you, so I need you to be patient with us," Hamilton said.  

"Lock them up," she heard J'onn say and she knew who he was referring to.  J'onn would be detaining her parents and would likely deal with them after things were straightened out (or until he needed information from her father about what she'd been given).

"Let's run labs," Hamilton said to one of the nurses.

They seemed to be moving to one area so that Kara could stand closer, taking a hand that was free.  Kara held it to her chest, both of her hands wrapped over Alex's, their eyes meeting.  "I'm here…  We're going to figure this out…"

For better or worse...

Read at AO3 or ff.net

[residenttransguy]

The council has spoken

*including binder care, getting a proper binder, the do's and don't's of binding etc.

[raymondrroberts]

I Robot...

I have before me an article by Alex Williams from The New York Times, “Robot-Proofing Your Child’s Future.” You need to read it. It is at once encouraging, terrifying, and thought provoking.

First the encouraging news. The idea that a lot of jobs may be taken over by robots strikes me as a great thing. When I was in college I took a business management class that talked about soul-killing, repetitious, monotonous factory jobs. The kind we think we miss today because they provided decent paychecks. 

Take the car door, bolt it to the frame. Take the car door, bolt it to the frame.  Take the car door, bolt it to the frame.  Take the car door... well, you get the idea.

Workers sometimes rebelled against the boredom by sabotaging the car, by leaving bottles in the door to rattle and annoy the owner. They rebelled against being treated like a machine. 

Well, if you’ve seen recent pictures of a car factory with efficient robots lined upon the line, hanging the doors and welding and all, you know that the boring, good-old days are gone. And they aren’t coming back. 

That’s probably a good thing. People have better things to do with their lives than standing mindlessly on an assembly line and being a cog in the machine... though we do miss those nice paychecks. 

Second, the terrifying news. According to the article, British Intelligence experts predict that by 2025 robot soldiers will outnumber human soldiers in American forces. That’s seven years from now!  

Robotic weapons present all sorts of ethical questions. The concentration of power and the centrality of command, the absence of human decision in firing, the impossibility of conscientious refusal to carry out orders, the overwhelming asymmetrical nature of robotic warfare conjures dystopian visions of the future. If you don’t believe this technology will be put to sinful use, you haven’t studied human nature or history. You need to watch Robocop again. 

Military ethics always takes a while to catch up to new technology. We haven’t yet figured out the ethics of weaponized drones. (For a statement on the ethics of drones that I helped draft, click here). I don’t know how we stay ahead of or manage the ethical challenges posed by robotic warfare. Or how we avoid a new arms race that makes robotic warfare the norm for great powers. I do know that robotic police must be rejected by any people who hope to stay free. There are a lot of other things I want to say about this, but don’t have the space here.

Concern is also provoked by the possibility that robotics will contribute to ever greater concentrations of wealth. America’s founders knew that democracy was a fragile thing. They particularly worried that an aristocracy would arise and destroy it. This fear inspired Thomas Jefferson to oppose laws of primogenitor (allowing the eldest to inherit everything) and led him to talk about the need to divide great estates to create a middle class of yeoman farmers who would embody republican virtues. John Adams voiced the similar sentiments, 

"The only possible way of preserving the balance of power on the side of liberty and public virtue is to make the acquisition of land easy to every member of society: to make a division of the land into small quantities, so that the multitude may be possessed of landed estates.”  (Click here.) 

Noah Webster claimed 

“a general and tolerably equal distribution of landed property is the whole basis of national freedom” [and] “the very soul of a republic.”  

During American history, an appreciation that democracy depended on a broad middle-class inspired ordinances that opened up the Northwest Territory, lotteries that awarded land in George to the poor, and land-grants like the Homestead Act of 1862. (I realize these expansions have problematic aspects relative to native peoples.) Imagine if land had been sold to the highest bidder: Instead of the patchwork of farms we see when we fly over America’s heartland, we’d see enormous plantations owned by the descendants of railroad barons.  What will robots do to democracy? We are going to find out.

Concern is also provoked by predictions of a job-less future. A 2013 University of Oxford Department of Engineering Science study has estimated that robotics threaten 47% of current jobs, including a number of jobs that I’d have sworn would be safe. McKinsey Global Institute recently estimated that robots may force 1/3 of American works to change jobs in the next dozen years.

If history is a guide and these predictions are anything close to reliable, we are going to face a rocky adjustment. The first industrial revolution concentrated wealth in the hands of a few industrialists. It fostered violent backlashes like the Luddites who destroyed factories that had displaced cottage industries. It provoked clashes between labor and management, like the Haymarket Affair, and gave rise to a radical ideology, Marxism. 

Luddites smashing a factory

A second industrial revolution brought on by Robotics and A.I. may cause (is it already causing?) similar disruption. Desperate people may be susceptible to wild ideas, scape-goating, and violent action. Powerful people may be just as easily threatened and take oppressive action. As with the first industrial revolution, it will require a renegotiation of the social contract. 

Soldiers shooting at striking Pullman workers

Some claim that the death of work is greatly exaggerated and that we’ll find other work. Over the long-term I think this is likely. Over the short-term I’m not sure. Plus, given how robotics and globalization (more the former than the latter) have given rise to the poorly paying “service sector,” we ought to be concerned. 

Others make cheerful predictions about a universal basic income (UBI). Maybe.  I observe that those who have do not like giving to those who don’t. I also observe that those who work do not like giving to those who “could” but don’t in some traditional sense. For UBI to come about, it would require renegotiating very fundamental aspects of the social contract, the meaning of work, the nature of ownership, and a host of other things. This will not be easy.

I also wonder whether UBI, by itself, can compensate for the psychic benefits of traditional work, such as camaraderie, a sense of purpose, a sense of accomplishment, and a socially defined identity. It is certainly true that much work has that traditionally gone unpaid, such as caring for children and the elderly, provides significant psychic benefit and value to society. A UBI could allow more of this type of work and more volunteerism. I also have some hope that the desire for meaning in life (and extra cash) will drive many to look employment beyond the UBI. Perhaps a UBI will allow people to strike out and take entrepreneurial risks that are currently unthinkable because people have to pay for the kids’ healthcare. That said, my hope is tempered by studies show that many unemployed people waste away their days getting high. My sense is that many people need the structure of traditional work. 

Robotics will force a renegotiation of the social contract. Christians have a number of doctrines that can guide us in this public task (public because we’ll have to do this with others), I’ll close by mentioning two. The first is the doctrine of vocation. It teaches that everyone has a particular calling in which they are to employ their gifts in service to God and others (including nature). A world where people don’t have good work is a world that is not structured as the creator intended. This says nothing about remuneration or against technology, per se.

The second doctrine is the doctrine of covenant. It is the idea that God has “bound” our lives together in communities - families, congregations, and political community. These communities make our lives possible and they demand our attention and sacrifice in order to function. They are both a gift and they impose obligations. If those who own the factories do not depend on workers or if the workers are easily replaceable, this will test the ties that bind us together in civil society.  In the Bible Cain once asked, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” According to a covenantal view of society, we are. 

[13sketchyowls]

Midnight Circus AU

It was pretty popular on Hamino, so I thought I could post it up here too.

Trigger warnings:

- mentions of death

- mentions magic, demons, etc

Mini Prologue/Intro

Deep into the night when not even a mouse was stirring, a dark shadow loomed across the small town of Nevis. The night air lost its warmth, the wind carried whispers of the unknown, the very earth shivered -

Pop!

A large tentage of bright yellow and red warped into existence in the middle of a previously empty field. The ambience of the night returned to its calm state, embracing the foreign entity as if it had always been there.

The Midnight Circus has arrived.

In the day, the Midnight Circus lures in droves of curious town people to watch the show.

But at night, that's when the real party begins. You see, the Circus is not what it seems. It was created by a joint effort between a warlock (G. Wash) and a crossroad demon (T. Jeff). Well, less of a joint effort and more of a trying to pull one over the other.

The warlock wanted to create a safe space for poor humans with nowhere left to turn, but he was unable to do it on his own, so he seeked the help of a crossroad demon.

Well, being a sneaky demon, T. Jeff decided to nitpick on G. Wash's phrasing and twisted the deal so that whoever that goes into the safe space can never leave.

G. Wash realising he had been hoodwinked, used his powers to bind T. Jeff to him. And now, they have to deal with each other and the rest of the poor souls they pick up.

"You can check-out any time you like, but you can never leave!" ~ Hotel California, the Eagles

However, after a decade, they realised that the continual and persistent mingling of magic between two powerful beings, was causing certain side effects to the people inhabiting the safe space. (At that point it was Washington, Jefferson, Lafayette and Madison) It's causing them to manifest as supernatural beings aligned with their personality and character and they essentially became immortal, souls forever tied to the Circus.

PROFILES

Name

Type of supernatural being

Brief background

Role in the Circus

George Washington

Warlock

Wanted a safe space, dealt with a demon (not wise), got tricked, but tricked the demon back (aye)

Magician

Thomas Jefferson

Crossroad demon

Tricked the warlock, but is now bound to the warlock

Ringmaster

Marquis de Lafayette

High Elf (with Foresight) 

An ability to see into the future, guides the Circus to find the people they need to help

First to be 'fostered', entire family and house was torched to the ground

Fortune teller at a booth outside the tent

James Madison

Licht - due to his illness, he is forced to feed off souls (Although he is firmly against killing people, Jefferson has no such qualms and goes soul hunting for his new smol, soft human that he, in no way, adores)

Second, he was extremely ill and was left for the dead in fear that he was possessed

He stays backstage and helps out, he's not in the best of health :pensive:

Aaron Burr

Shapeshifter (fun fact: he has the intense fear of forgetting who he actually is after shifting and losing the man that loves and was loved by his wife and child)

Third, lost his wife to illness, weeks later, found out his daughter died at sea, on the way to accompany her father.

Knife thrower

Freakshow (he almost never does this because of aforementioned fear, and the crew understands)

(Fun fact again! Out of all the crew, he felt the most unhappy of being robbed of his chance of an afterlife, since he can never be with his family again)

Schulyer sisters

After their father died, they lost all their wealth and home to greedy relatives and were left on the streets to die

Angelicaaa

Sphinx (she's smart af, she's fierce af, and she would rip anyone who crosses her in half)

Animal tamer (given that she's half lionness, she can communicate with the big cats, and she loves all of her fluffy kitties)

Elizaaa

Elemental spirit (can switch between all elements, as with all elemental spirits, but is most comfortable with fire and water, ironically)

Fire breather

And Peggy

Pixie (smol, fierce and can pack a punch)

Acrobat (she can FLY. She's practically hovering on the tightrope)

John Laurens

Angel

Thrown out of the family because of... Reasons...

Acrobat (he can fly too, but he's more of an adrenaline junkie, actually practices walking on the tightrope and all the tricks properly)

Hercules Mulligan & Maria Reynolds

Herc was trying to help Maria out from her abusive relationship with James Reynolds. James finds out and uses this to accuse Maria of cheating on him with Herc to gain sympathy points. Herc and Maria were then chased out onto the streets, with nothing but the clothes on their back

Disclaimer: Herc and Maria are not a couple, but if want the ship to float, you can have it.

Hercules

Mountain Dwarf (large, stocky and skilled craftsmen)

Strong man (even when he was a human, he was hella strong!)

Maria

Siren (she doesn't sing at all after turning to a siren, because she absolutely abhors the non-consensual aspects of it)

Magician's assistant

Alex

Latest token human after a decade (what supernatural being will he be?? Who knows???)

Mother and brother died of illness one after the other, he survived but with no home or money. He was out on the streets near the tent when he was beckoned by Lafayette who gave him a ticket and told him to enjoy the show, and if he wanted to escape from this town, he has to go backstage at midnight. Which he did.

You never know when the Midnight Circus arrives. 

You never know how the Midnight Circus leaves. 

But you sure as hell know that you'll have a good time!

A Snippet

"In the eyes of the humans, we," Jefferson emphatically gestured to the four men, "look like people of suspicious motives, or... tastes."

"Ah. So that is the reason why the tarven lady looking at us with such..."

"Disgust. The word you're looking for is digust." The demon deadpanned. Washington frowned but did not correct him.

Madison and Lafayette looked at each other and sighed. They were used to such back and forths and knew when to keep silent when they going at each other.

"We need a cover," Jefferson declared. "A reason for a group of men - and possibly ladies, to travel together."

"What do you suggest..." Washington pinched the bridge of his nose. After spending nearly a decade with him, he knew when Jefferson is trying to push an agenda.

"A circus!" Jefferson cackled in glee. "It's perfect, and it's not like we can't pull it off! You can use your magic to entertain the masses and whip up a few illusions. And the Elf can use his fortune telling magic to lure people in."

Jefferson kicked his legs onto the table in front of him. "We'll have the cash and a cover. Win-win really."

"You know very well I don't have enough power-" Washington started, before narrowing his eyes, " you want your magic back."

"Just a lil bit. Enough to stop losing my mind!" Jefferson shot back defensively, "and Lafayette said he Saw a circus..."

Washington pressed his lips togther, "Fine."

He turned to Lafayette, "Did you manage to See the name of this 'circus'?"

Lafayette gave a sunny smile, "The Midnight Circus."

~~~

This is really just a lighthearted, slice of life, zany, crazy AU with feelsy moments 'cause everyone has an angsty backstory ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (Bet I fooled ya with that dark and mysterious coverart haha)

I'm sorry, for such a long post, but I get really wrapped up in details!!

[hatchingphoenix]

Fiction: Mapmaker

Mapmaker

It has been a long time since Mapmaker was taken. He does not know how long. He has not seen the sun since then. He does not know where he is being held. He has only seen stone walls, dull, smoking torches, and the undead soldiers of The Necromancer. Mapmaker prepared to return to the capital as soon as he heard of the invasion. He expected to be called out of retirement to help defend the kingdom. He had surveyed and drawn every inch of the land, and knew her down to the smallest detail. He had never married. How could one devote love to another, when all his energy went to his maps. He traveled to the palace, to lay battle maps for the king. The Enemy caught him first. They tortured and interrogated Mapmaker regularly since he was brought here. The Necromancer’s generals and strategists, the ones he kept alive, wanted maps. Fortifications, barracks, ports. They wanted military targets, but those were not the maps he drew. Mapmaker is a proud man. He never made a map he knew to be false, and he refuses to start now. Instead, he wastes the generals’ time. He maps peaceful villages, gave directions for forest paths far from the front lines. For every useless map, they punish him severely, but it another day lost to the Necromancer’s forces. It is all Mapmaker can do for his country. Once, he stole a piece of chalk and tried to keep track of the days. He made a mark for every time the guards took him, each time he ate the strange food, each time he slept. He gave up when he ran out of chalk. Most of one wall is covered by the little tally marks, like a map backwards in time. The guards never speak. Mostly, they are dead things. They move awkwardly, like puppets, and stare with sightless eyes. Occasionally, one is a living man, who watches his companions with mute horror. The price for failure in The Necromancer’s army is self-evident. He begs these living servants for information. How fares the kingdom, the war, and his apprentices. They dare not answer. He was traveling with a pair of students when his coach was ambushed. He does not know what became of them. When he sleeps, he dreams. Sometimes he dreams they are killed in front of him, as a punishment. Sometimes they are pressed into the Necromancer’s service, and come to his cell as unseeing, stumbling things that do not recognize him. Sometimes he dreams they have all escaped together. Those are the worst ones. Mapmaker sleeps poorly. His cell opens with the tooth-gritting noise of metal on stone. Two armored zombies enter to escort him. Mapmaker guesses they were made about two weeks ago. He has been imprisoned long enough to learn the cycle of the zombie guards. With so great a supply of bodies on hand, The Necromancer does not bother to prevent his guards from rotting, and they last about a month before they fall apart. These two are halfway through the process. Although they are covered in plate mail, he can tell by the stench. The old man shrinks back from their outstretched arms. He is running out of safe places to map. He has drawn every safe place he can think of, and does not know what they will do. If they torture him today, perhaps this is the day he will break, or the day they will finally kill him. The corpses lift him to his feet and march him out of the room. They are neither rough nor gentle. They move with a rote, measured steps. When he was a young man, under the old king, An inventor brought a mechanical elephant to court. It marched, trumpeted, and even bowed. It was decorated to almost look alive, with a hide covering and glass eyes, but there was something too precise about its movements. As horrific as they are, The Necromancer’s soldiers remind him of the elephant. As they march him down the hall, he wonders what happened to the elephant. He has not seen it in many years. Perhaps it broke down, or is sitting forgotten in a dusty store room somewhere underneath the palace. It takes his mind off of what is to come. To his surprise, they take him somewhere different today. After a few minutes of confusing twists and turns, he finds himself in a huge circular tower. The stone floor is marked by a chalk circle. Inside, soldiers are building something. Some set colored stones into the floor, Others lay down planks and spread papers on them, almost haphazardly. Others light candles at fixed points outside of the circle. Mapmaker tries to get a closer look, but the rotting guards push him towards a staircase ascending to a platform. Like a bucket on a chain, they guide him up. The stairs spiral a long way to the top of the tower. By the time he reaches the platform he is winded and sweating. He aches from a thousand pains. He was frail when they brought him here, and this is the most exercise he has gotten in months. The Necromancer, in his black robes embroidered with gold thread, is waiting for him. This is the first time Mapmaker has seen the leader of the enemy, but there is no mistaking him. He cannot tell how old he is, or even if he is truly still alive. Fear claws at the old man, and he simply wants to flee. The other guard stands on the stairs and prevents his escape. The Necromancer looks him up and down, purses his thin, dry, lips, and asks a question. “Have you ever heard of sympathetic magic, Mapmaker?” Mapmaker has not. The wizard smiles. It does nothing to put Mapmaker at ease. “Sympathetic magic is one of the oldest forms, but quite powerful. Observe.” He take a little object, about an inch tall, out of his pocket and sets it on the railing. The doll made of wax and brass. A bundle of brown hair sticks out of the top. It reminds Mapmaker of a candle. The Necromancer picks it back up and without effort snaps it two. One of the guards blocking the stair collapses without making a sound. Mapmaker feels sick to his stomach. The Necromancer’s smile widens. “If you wish to control a man, or learn his secrets, or kill him, there is a simple method.” The Necromancer recites as though they stand in a classroom. “Make a figure of him, fill it with his blood, or his hair, or the clippings of his nails. “Say his secret name, and he is yours, to do with as you wish.” The mapmaker trembles. He thinks of how much hair he has lost, how long his nails have grown, how often they whipped him until he bled. The Necromancer could have made quite a large doll of him, by now. Mapmaker finds his courage. He is a servant of the Kingdom, and he swears he will die before he gives up. He looks the Necromancer in his colorless eyes. “Why are you telling me this? Are you going to kill me?” “Kill you? Why, you are my best and most trusty servant! Look below you!” The Necromancer gestures out over the railing to the ground below. The old man turns and sees what the servants are doing. A new nadir of fear and horror strikes at him, filling his belly with ice. He understands immediately what they are making. At this height, the circle takes on meaning. The red, black, and gray stones resolve into mountains. The green and brown become forests and fields. The blue stones become lakes and rivers. And set among them are the papers. From their locations he knows what them must be. He has been making them all of his life. “Lovely, isn’t it? Your greatest work. We milled the paper from the trees of your forests. We made the ink from plants and stones we gathered here. We hewed the very earth of your little country to remake mountains. If you want power over a man, build his likeness in a doll. Bind it to him with his hair and blood. If you want power over a country, draw a map. The principle is the same.” Mapmaker stares in horror. He cannot look away. “I never mapped a military target. Never once since you captured me.” “Commendable. But you drew these instead. And they will serve me just as well.” The Necromancer spreads one hand out over the map. The candlelight catches on gold rings. “What are you going to do?” Mapmaker whispers. Below him is the most detailed and beautiful map he has ever seen, and it terrifies him. The Necromancer doesn’t answer. A ball of poisonous green flame appears in The Necromancer’s hand. He holds it out over the pit for a moment, then lets it drop. It falls for a long time.

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Cover photograph by Alex Kintzer, presented under a Creative Commons, Attribution, Non-Commercial License.

[ijustwant2write]

Falling Into The Wrong Crowd-Part Five (Jax Teller x Reader)

(GIF credit to owner)

Masterlist

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9/ Part 10/ Part 11/    Part 12

Summary: The Devoted Predators have been captured and the girls are ready for kill them. For some absurd reason the Sons don’t want to get rid of them yet as they fear that there is much more to come.

Meanings: (Y/N)= Your name

Warnings: Swearing, violence, alcohol, drugs, death, torture, guns, gore (this is Sons Of Anarchy, what do you expect?)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Lass, don’ do it yet.” Chibs’ stern voice stopped us.

Bea whipped her head round in surprise.“What do you mean!? These bastards need to die!”

“They should go through some sort'a torture, don’ ya think?”

I couldn’t take much more of this. Although I thoroughly agreed that those sick men needed to be put through something horrible before they finally left this life; I wouldn’t be able to stay or watch any of it. I was satisfied that they were going to be killed, that was enough, I didn’t need to drive a knife slowly through their heart to gain revenge (though that sounded like a good idea). My legs felt weaker now, the pain from my wounds now surging. The adrenaline must have been wearing off. Jax was this and put his arm around my waist, he other holding a hand.

“You need to sit down.” he whispered.

I nodded, not looking at him but at Zac.“Just one more thing.” Limping towards him I looked down at his cowering figure. Not such a man now, was he? Looking him straight in the eyes, I subtly pulled back my leg before crashing it into his crotch. He screamed out in pain as he doubled over.

“I needed to do that.” I explained now letting Jax guide me away.

I felt myself get weaker as we walked through the corridors. He took me into one of the dorm rooms, presumably his, sitting me down on the edge of the bed. As he disappeared into his bathroom I scanned the room; it screamed Jax. He leant against the frame of the door, gesturing with his head to go into the bathroom. Staggering over to him, he supported me again, holding a wet flannel up to my face. I let him wash away the dirt and blood, feeling flushed under his gaze. He moved onto my hands and I hissed as the flannel ran over my open wounds. Jax hesitated but continued when I said nothing. His huge, rough hands we’re a big contrast to my tiny, soft ones. I dared to look up at him and our eyes met for a brief second before he pulled away from me.

“You can sleep here tonight.” Jax offered as we exited his bathroom.

“Thanks.” I breathed out, sitting on it again.

Every inch of my body was throbbing. It was like a constant headache all over. I heard Jax fumble around the room, drawers being opened and shut. He caught my attention when waving one of his t-shirts in front of me.

“It’s alright, I don’t need that.” I sadly smiled.

“Yes you do, your shirt is ruined.”

I took it from him, knowing that it would be oversized.

He turned his back to me.“I promise I won’t look.”

Although it hurt, I took off my own shirt and slipped his on. Unsurprisingly it was like a dress on me, going just over my knees and swamping my body. It was plain black with the word SAMCRO displayed at the top in white. I told Jax it was ok to turn around and he smirked when he saw me.

“Looks good on you. You look like a real member.” he was trying to lighten the mood.

We heard a cry of pain echo down the hall, startling the both of us. On instinct I wrapped my arms around myself, also crossing my legs, I tried to comfort myself. Why couldn’t they just be dead already?

“Hey,” Jax caught my attention,“it’ll be over soon.” I only blinked not really sure how to reply. He advised that I go to sleep telling me I needed rest of I were to get better mentally and physically. I did as he said getting comfortable in his bed. Jax left his room after asking me a thousand times if I would be alright, he finally believed me. Bunching up the covers I pulled them over my trembling body up to my chin, it acted like a shield protecting me from the outside world. Surprisingly I fell asleep quite quickly, luckily not dreaming about anything. I was dazed as I woke, not quite sure what was going on or why my body was hurting so much. When the unfortunate memories came back I slowly say up in bed only to scream at the unfamiliar person in the room.

“It’s alright darling,” the older woman shushed me,“I’m Clay’s wife, Jax's mom. My name’s Gemma.”

My breathing slowed as I took in what she said. She looked like a typical Old Lady; decked head to toe in black, her Crow tattoo peaking out of her shirt on her cleavage. She was definitely the queen here. If course she was going to look intimidating but her devoting, motherly side was showing through at the moment.

“I-I’m (Y/N).” I shakily breathed out.

“I know sweetheart.” she got out of her seat and say next to me on the bed.“How are you feeling?”

“Um…I’m not too sure to be honest.”

“Yeah, that was a big of a stupid question.”

“No it wasn’t. Thanks for asking.”

I could feel her eyeing me up and down. It didn’t help that I was covered in bruises and cuts. She was trying to figure me out, see if I was worth hanging around with her guys. Gemma sighed, running a hand through her blonde highlighted hair. As an Old Lady she was probably used to this shit happening though obviously she had to deal with it. That was what happened when you married at biker, you weren’t just binding yourself to the man you love but also the club that came with him.

“Look, don’t get all pissy over this question but why are you with those girls? You seem like a sweet girl, not someone that would be a part of all of this?”

“They’ve always been there for me, I could never abandon them. I can’t really leave this lifestyle now either.”

“No, you couldn’t could you.” she sighed.

“D-do you know what happened out there?” I timidly asked.

“Sorry, I don’t get told a lot. All I know is that there are no Devoted Predators left in my clubhouse and the boys are carrying on with work as usual. The girls are still here too.”

“Right. Good.”

“I’ll go grab them and get you some lunch.”

“Lunch?”

“Yeah, it’s two in the afternoon. Don’t worry about it, you needed the rest.”

She began to edit the room before I shouted a ‘thanks’. Gemma acknowledged this, smiling a little. As she left I hauled myself out of the bed having to use the support of the surrounding furniture to keep me from falling. It was a struggle to get to the bathroom though I made it eventually. The pain in my body increased as I leaned against the sink, my breathing heavy. Unfortunately I had to face my reflection and it was a horrific sight; my lips were split and a deep red colour, one cheek was more swollen than the other and I had a black eye. It didn’t help that my eyes were puffy and bloodshot from crying or that my nose was rosy. Splashing some water on my face I attempted to wash away last night’s smeared makeup. Moving onto the mess that was my hair I jumped as someone burst into the room.

“(Y/N)? Oh there you are!” Frankie threw her arms around me, I had to ignore the pain.

“Hey, are you ok?”

“Yeah. It’s over now, we’re safe.”

I let out a sigh, clinging onto her.“Finally.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It had been three days since the Devoted Predators ambushed us. We had busied ourselves with work as the club was soon to open. It helped that I just had to keep the Cara Cara girls rehearsing their routines for the opening show, luckily they had to prepare their own performance meaning that I wasn’t rushing around trying to put together some sort of choreography.

Although I was trying to distract myself from what had happened, I couldn’t ignore the many looks I was receiving from my colleagues. They were all full of pity or sympathy and it was getting on my nerves. I understood that they were trying to be careful with what they said or did around me but it was not helping me at all. That meant I was becoming agitated, especially on the opening night of the club.

“(Y/N), could you please at least pretend to be happy?” Alex joked with me.

We had dressed up a little to look more sophisticated (not a word I really associated a strip club) preparing the music and drinks. I had covered my bruises and cuts with my makeup, curling my hair and wearing a black, slimming dress with some marching heels. The girls weren’t fond of dresses and opted for formal jeans with a nice top. I sent her a sarcastic smile and she just chuckled.

“Leave her alone. You look great by the way.” Bea complimented as she poured out four glasses of champagne.

“Thanks. You think the guys are going to come?” I took a glass.

“Course they will, it’s their club as much as ours.”

“We owe them big time.” Frankie said.

“Yeah…”

“Ok has everyone got a glass?” Bea asked as we stood together.“Here’s a toast to a good future from now on.”

Alex had to chime in.“And here’s hoping we get so much cash we make it rain.”

[readeverymorning]

9:9:9

9:9:9 Karmic Portal Open from 9:9:19 Until The Saturn (Lord Of Karmic Energy) Retrograde Closes on 9:18:19.~~

September 9th 2019 marks the opening of a powerful portal in numerology as it carries the energy of 9:9:9, with the focus on clearing the past and closing out old cycles over the next 9 days.

This portal offers a rare opportunity to clear the karmic energy we have accumulated over the past nine months and gives us the opportunity to release anything toxic, particularly the relationships we attract or maintain, from our lives. This karmic cleansing is particularly heightened, as it occurs during the last week of Saturn Retrograde, as Saturn rules Karma.

During the next 9 days we are going to go through a very intense phase that will cleanse any harmful toxins from our lives, which include unhealthy habits, extreme behaviours, outdated beliefs, irrational fear-based thoughts and feelings that diminish our energy and leave us feeling fraught, anxious and burnt-out.

Also, any ties that energetically bind us to people or situations that are detrimental to us or limiting in any way will easily be severed during this period and we will find the strength to walk away with peace, love, compassion and forgiveness in our hearts. In particular, we will feel the urge to remove ourselves from the company of anyone that regularly provokes arguments, shows aggression, is controlling, manipulative, deceptive, judgmental, overly critical or generally abusive toward us.

Not only will we be ending a nine-month cycle that has felt especially challenging, we are about to embark on an important, transformational new phase—and if we have been involved in any toxicity, it is vital that we clear as much of it as possible so that we are prepared for this necessary shift.

The number nine carries the energy of every number that comes before it, as it is the last digit in the numerical sequence 0-9.

Therefore, it is an accumulation of beginnings, middles, and endings. It is a number that encompasses everything at once, but it is also the final number, so its energy signifies conclusions, endings and closure, but it also ensures we are ready to burn bridges and kick start exciting new beginnings.

It is essential that we end old outdated cycles before we can begin fresh new ones. When doors close we will notice that others immediately open up for us.

The number nine is a spiraling number as whenever a number is multiplied by nine, we always return back to the number nine. For example, 9×3=27 (2+7=9).

If there is only one nine, it is a calling for the closure of a phase in our lives—however, when there are more than one, the power and rhythm of the number is amplified, therefore the energetic vibration is also magnified and strengthened and the call to abruptly end a cycle is an urgent and final one.

The determination of this 999 energy will be undeniable and if there are areas of our life that need focus we will not be able to ignore or turn a blind eye to the changes that need to be made. We will not get away with making up excuses for the people in our lives that are troublesome or pretending that all is well when it isn’t. This energy takes no hostages and is quite fierce and forceful, therefore, it is highly recommended that we jump on the back of this energy and ride with the momentum during these next few weeks.

9-9-9- is a message that signifies the last warning we will be given to close karmic periods and the focus here is not just on romantic relationships, it is on any type of relationship that has been causing us some kind of emotional, mental or physical harm.

To align with this empowering energy shift we need to be evaluating, emptying, letting go and cleansing all low vibrational energy, so that by the time we reach the end of Saturn Retrograde on September 18th we are fully prepared to release whatever, or whomever, has been holding us back and freely move onward on our evolutionary journey.

The period leading up to September 18th may feel turbulent time as we shake off any negative thoughts, beliefs or habits that have caused us to enter into relationships that have not been serving us well. 999 is all about truth and clarity and to be true to ourselves and give ourselves the very best chance of receiving happiness, peace, and love, we need to ensure that the people we closely connect to are not going to continuously be causing difficulties and destruction.

This is a time for rational and reasonable thinking and for attuning our intuition and trusting it, so that we easily distinguish the people and things that are not good for us, and we can then love certain people from a safe distance and put our own emotional, mental or physical health first.

As this chapter of our life comes to a definite and refreshing end, we can tune in to our intuition to be sure that whatever decisions we make are resonating on a soul level. 999 is a rare angel number sequence, and whenever we notice it or call upon it, we will receive an abundance of spiritual guidance and assistance that helps to guide us through.

We only need to pay attention and listen closely and we will hear repetitive whispers, feel subtle sensations, notice signs, synchronicities and number sequences 3:3:3 or 9:9:9 and we may notice that song lyrics, poetry or quotes offer significant messages during this time. The dreamworld will also be communicating with us, so it is likely that our dreams or even nightmares will be more vivid and that we are far more likely to remember them and piece the meaning together.

It may seem that the 999 energy is harsh and something to beware of, as it will feel testing and challenging, however, it is actually an extremely kind, loving, compassionate, wise and magnificent energy and one that helps us understand and then release any toxic entanglements of any type that we have felt ourselves bound to over these last nine months or possibly even 9 years.

If we place our faith in this energy, we will be directed toward our destined path so that we can attune to our true soul connections, passions and soul missions here on earth.~

~Alex Myles