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revengeworld · 4 years ago

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Meat II

Werewolf! Flip x Reader - Medieval AU

Word Count: +3.100

Warnings: One surprise / nonconsensual kiss

AN: This will be a six Part series. It has nothing to do with the movie and is a complete medieval AU with it’s own lore about werewolfs. I thought it might be an interesting turn on it :>

MY MASTERLIST ♥

Slowly and carefully climbing out of her dress that was pooling around her ankles, Y/N was now just clothes in her undergarment shift and tried to pull the red cloak around her shoulders.

“Here… let me help…” hearing his deep voice again so near to her she slightly flinched while he pulled the cloak from her shoulders again and laid it correctly around her still trembling body.

Flip gently took her hand in his to lead it towards the loop that would wrap around a button to close. Letting her fingertips run along the hem she could feel the big hood that felt so soft in her hand, almost as soft as the fur she had touched earlier while the other had carried her.

When he suddenly wanted to pull his hand away she held onto it before she could scramble over her own feet again.

“Come, you can rest on my…. bed.”

The way he said that last word she first was concerned until she heard the crunching of the hay under her body while he had sat her down onto the pile of it.

“I will get us a bed in dew time, don't worry. I will provide everything for you.” again she could feel his lips pressed against her cheek before his footsteps went quieter while he moved away from her.

Suddenly hearing the loud rumble of logs being thrown onto the ground, Y/N flinched and quickly pulled the cloak closer around her body.

“It will be warmer soon.” he called over while lighting the wooden logs in his fireplace.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Well to keep you warm, Meat. You’re still trembling.”

“That's not what I mean.” she shook her head, trying to listen for his footsteps until he already wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Then what do you mean, my little meat?” he almost purred and pressed his forehead against her head while brushing with the tip of his nose along her cheek.

“Why haven’t you eaten me yet? How could leaving me alive benefit you?” she asked, trying to look at him as close as she could possibly guess in her constant darkness.

Flip let out a loud barking laugh, which made her jump a little before she pulled her head away from him again.

“Were you really thinking there was a bigger reason behind it? I saw you and I wanted you. That's what a wolf does. He takes what he wants for himself, even fighting his own kind for it.” resting his big hand against the side of her face, Flip let his thumb run over her soft lips.

It was true, he had saved her life from being devoured by the other wolf and had marked her as his own, but her question still stood. Why keep her when it only made more trouble for him?

“So then what is your plan?” she asked again.

“I don’t know? Grow old together? Have some fun? Eat lots of your meat pastries.” he started to grin at the thought of her special meal. Every month he had gotten excited for the full moon so he can get a taste of those delicious pastries and see her a bit closer instead of from far away.

“So you won’t let me go back to my family?”

His eyes suddenly squinted in anger when he heard her question and Y/N could feel the air fan against her skin while he let out a deep huff.

“Once you’ve been cursed you won’t be able to leave the forest alive. One step out of it and you fall over, dead. Just in case one of the sacrifices escaped.” he spoke very truthfully, but still jealous that she wanted to return to this horrible village.

“You will have it better here… I promise you, my little meat.”

“How am I supposed to have it better here?! Blind! In a place I don’t know with a … a beast like you!?”

“But I’m not always a beast, like right now. You saw it yourself and you liked what you saw.” he started to snicker while both his arms wrapped back around her torso, her hands immediately pressed against his shoulders to keep him still at a safe distance, but he could still see her flustered expression.

Suddenly she felt his grip on her neck tighten before he pulled her closer and pressed his lips against her own for a short moment before he all of a sudden left her alone on the bed again.

Her heart was beating fast, Flip could hear it echoing in his ears and he was glad that she couldn’t see his smirk at the moment while he watched her shocked but also flushed expression while she laid her fingers over her own lips.

For a while she could hear him shuffling around on the other end of the room and she soon could hear the fire roaring and the wood crackling in the fireplace and even though it was just a slight source of light, Y/N could at least feel the warmth radiate on her skin.

Carefully pushing herself of the unstable stack of hay, she wanted to reach out with her hand until it landed into Flip's big one.

“I’ll bring you over before you burn yourself.” he mumbled calmly and with a swift motion of his arm he had picked her from the ground and placed her onto a tiny stool.

Immediately the warmth of the fire rose into her whole body and she sighed relaxed.

While Y/N enjoyed the warmth Flip looked around at the dire food situation on his table. Nothing was really suited for a human, either rotten since he hadn’t finished it the last full moon or things that only he in his wolf form was able to eat.

“I need to go down into town so we can eat.” he scoffed. This all was too unexpected but he still was angry with himself that he wasn’t prepared enough.

“I will be right back.” laying his big hand on her hand he leaned down to press a kiss against her neck, but she suddenly held onto his shirt.

“I want to come with you...” she didn’t want to be alone in here, who knew if the others from his people wouldn’t come and kill her while he was away. But he welcomed her idea.

“Alright, Meat.” picking her up again she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.

“And I want a new dress! Since you ruined mine.” she stated sternly while Flip was slowly walking along the path to reach the underground city.

Letting out another barking laugh, he nuzzled his head against hers with an amused smile.

“Everything you want. If we're lucky we might be able to get a proper bed today as well.”

“A big one!”

“We’ll see what the carpenter has.”

“Good.” happy with that answer she leaned her head onto his shoulder. Her body was exhausted from the things she had gone through that night.

Immediately when they had gotten to a more crowded part of the city the murmur around them started. Flip had been the first wolf ever to just take a human for himself instead of eating it like it was tradition.

“Don’t worry, no one is able to harm you with my sigil on your body. Otherwise they will be killed as well.” he reassured his little meat who only nodded to his words.

“If I’m cursed. Does that mean you're under a curse as well?” she asked interested while she could feel his warm smooth skin under her touch.

“You could say that I guess. We were just born like this … we know as much as you do.” getting closer to the shopping district, Flip tried to ignore the calls from the other wolves that also had transformed into human bodies. But Y/N listened closely to their words.

How they teased him to give them a piece of her as well and not just keep her all to himself but also kept their distance. They respected him enough but also were close enough with him that they could risk such jokes.

“Oh shut up you bunch!” he suddenly growled over his shoulder but they only laughed while he snickered lightly as well, even Y/N had a slight smirk on her lips.

They all seemed very close, just like her village used to be. It still felt like a bad dream to her, that she knew she was in the arms of a beast that she had to live with then there was nothing else left for her.

If she tried to leave she would either freeze or starve to death in the forest or even if she made it out she would fall over dead immediately.

Flip could feel her grip suddenly get tighter around his neck and instinctively nuzzled his face against hers.

“We go to the carpenter first and then we get something nice to eat.”

A few hours later, the both of them were sitting at the table while they were quietly munching on their meal. Y/N was exhausted and she was sure she already had some bruises because she ran into things so often in the shops while he had discussed things with the shop owners.

They had quietly made their way back to his hut at the outer rim of the underground cave. While Flip was carrying the bed frame, his freehand held onto Y/Ns while she was carrying a basket with the other wares he had gotten. Her feet now protected with a pair of big soft fur boots she was able to walk much steadier than before while following him.

And now they were resting with a good meal that she had advised him to cook, since she wasn’t able to see and do it herself.

While he was stirring up the fire again she slowly stumbled to the bed frame and started to gather the hay underneath to stuff it into a sheet so they could still use it as a mattress.

“Where should I put your dresses?” his deep voice suddenly rumbled next to her left ear.

“Wherever you think is best. It’s your home after all...” letting her hands wander over the fabric of her dresses in her hands. When they had visited the tailoring shop, the two ladies inside of it found her extremely adorable since she was smaller than their own kind and they couldn’t wait to get to work on her and now she had two dresses which she had no idea what they looked like but that had felt comfortable on her body and even Flip had told her that she looked pretty with them.

After he had placed the mattress onto the bed, Y/N immediately let herself fall on top of it. She could hear his deep chuckle before she felt a blanket being thrown on top of her.

“How long will you be in this form?” she mumbled quietly and soon felt him fall right next to her.

“From now until the moon rises again. Normally I would’ve been on my way to your village already.”

Y/N swallowed hard and he knew he made her uncomfortable again.

“I just … couldn’t wait to see you again. Every month it was the only thing I would look forward to.”

“And my pastries?” she chuckled lightly and he joined her laughter.

“Yeah those as well.”

“Why do you eat us?”

“It’s tradition. I guess the original intent was to weaken our enemies. But that is so long ago your folk made it into tails of gods and deities.”

“What about my family? Will they ever know what happened to me?” she could hear him take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to answer her question.

“Since they seem to know about the real curse… they will only have their grief. Unless you want them to know that you are still alive but can’t return...”

“I… I don’t know...”

Feeling his big hand brush over her cheek, Y/N slowly closed her eyes, the warmth of his human palm giving her comfort.

After a while of complete silence, Y/N suddenly opened her eyes again, even though Flip had thought that she had already fallen asleep.

“Can’t your people and mine not just live side by side? There is no war anymore.”

“Remember the first thing you called me? A godforsaken monster. That is all we are to your people. We are being hunted down as soon as we get spotted. There will never be peace, which is why we fled underground and lived our lives down here ever since.” Flip explained calmly and Y/N stayed quiet but at least allowed him to gently caress her face.

He noticed that she was much more relaxed now and that she just closed her eyes and trusted him to sleep next to her made him smile with relieve. After a while the fire was getting weaker, she slowly crawled over to him to cuddle up against his brode body for warmth.

But in the next few days her body and health seemed to get weak and seemed to be getting ill.

“Come on, Meat…” Flip whined and gently pressed his snout against her face to nudge her but she only breathed heavy, her skin felt like it was burning.

“Please Y/N… wake up...” he pleaded with another desperate whine and tried to push his snout under her to push her head up.

She only let out a small groan before he placed her head gently back on the pillow. He didn’t understand what was wrong with her. Flip had no ideas what humans would need.

“Flip! Hey are you there?” he suddenly could hear someone call for him outside.

“I will be right back…” gently nudging her with his snout he let his tongue grace over her cheek before he made his way outside.

Looking up at the opening in the cave ceiling he could see a human merchant that he only knew too well.

“Ron…” the wolf beast breathed with relief.

“I heard a rumour that you finally got your human.” Ron smiled down at the wolf but that soon vanished when he noticed the helpless look in the others eyes.

“What happened?”

“She isn’t moving. I don’t know what's wrong with her.”

Hearing the quiet murmur outside the hut, Y/N slowly opened her eyes even though the only thing she could see was the darkness she had slowly gotten used to.

Out of habit, her hand slowly wandered over the mattress where it normally would be stopped by a wall of fur. But this time she could feel nothing, the other side of the bed was empty.

When she tried to push herself up she barely was able to move her body and fell right back onto the warm mattress.

She felt helpless and without his protection she felt like a hurt deer served on a silver platter for the monsters that were hiding in the dark forest around it.

The first night here she couldn’t wait to get away from him, but now all she wanted was for the beast to return to her side.

“Flip...” her voice was weak and her throat dry, but Y/N just wanted him back.

“What symptoms does she have?” Ron was already trying to climb down the rocky path while Flip was walking in circles until his ears suddenly perked up and he sprinted back into his hut with Ron right behind him.

“My sweet little meat, you’re awake!” he purred while nuzzling his snout against her face.

Immediately when she laid her arms around his smiling snout, Y/N pulled him closer against her chest while his tail instantly started to wag.

Ron watched them for a moment before he let his heavy bag fall onto the wooden table in the middle of the room. Flinching at the loud sound, Y/N dug with her fingers into Flips fur who nudged her softly.

“Don’t worry, this is Ron. He is a friend of mine. He is a human too. Ron will find a way to help you.” he whispered in her ear before gently nibbling on it with his teeth.

Suddenly seeing Ron's hand rest on her forehead, Flip growled for a short moment but Ron scoffed at him with a grin.

“Don’t growl at me when I try to help your love. She definitely has a high fever. Are you going on walks with her so she has some sunlight everyday?” but as soon as Ron saw the wolf's head tilt he already knew it’s answer.

“Humans need sunlight. They can’t live underground for too long. When she gets better make sure you go up with her at least for a while every day.” the other human turned back around to his bag while Flip nuzzled his snout closer against Y/Ns body. He had no idea that humans would need sunlight to feel healthy, but he was thankful that Ron came around and helped him now so Flip could understand better how to take care of his sweet little meat.

“I see your diet also contains of just…. Meat. She needs vegetables and fruits and bread. She can’t survive just on meat like you beasts.”

“But nobody sells those here.”

“Well lucky you have me then. I can come by and sell you some from time to time. But she really needs some now.” pulling a small folded paper out of his bag, Ron placed it on the table before he grabbed the cauldron to fill it with water.

“You need to-”

“I’m not leaving her side!” Flip immediately growled and Ron let the cauldron fall into the wolf's paw.

“Fine… I’ll go then.” pulling his big box of a bag over his shoulder, Ron adjusted his coat for a moment.

“I will search for some wild ones. You better get some water boiling. Dilute the powder here in it and let her drink it if she can. It will give her some strength back.”

Y/N flinched when the wooden door slammed shut again and Flip quickly licked over her temple in a try to calm her.

“You will be better soon. I promise...” she could hear the guilty undertone in his voice, now that he knew that it was his fault that she had gotten so sick. But why hadn’t she told him herself?

Was she, even after all these weeks, still afraid of him?

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #werewolf flip #werewolf!flip #flip zimmerman au #flip zimmerman imagine #flip x reader #flip au #flip imagine

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enithinggoes · 3 years ago

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The witch’s teachings, lesson 6: Some planning, some action

Lesson 6- Some planning, some action

The next weeks were full of urgency, I was attempting to gain as much mastery as possible over the benefits of my pact in a short timespan. My lessons with the witch turned mostly to this subject temporarily, I discovered I could see perfectly in the dark, and over much longer distances than ever before. With the right amont of focus, I could even perceive the surface thoughts in people’s minds, but I found that if they became aware of it they could obfuscate intentions with proper concentration, something that Morgana already seemed to have some experience with. She proposed that I try and combine my enhanced vision and mind-reading to read an opponent’s movements, though I was still not nearly fast enough to parry her strikes consistently with my dagger.

On the more direct side of things, if I envisioned myself manipulating an object a few translucent apendages of iridescent coloring, apparently invisible and intangible to others, would manifest and delicately follow my instructions, incredibly precise(I wager I could even sow some injuries as well as with my hands through them) though not very strong, unable to lift more than a few kilograms.

Once I had some control over these abilities we went on to gathering information to take down the duke, “He’s clearly not a complete stranger to magic if he could send a demon after me before, so we should know more about his capabilities before we strike”, explained my master, “so It’d be best to have a plan when we confront him.”

We commandeered another inquisitor wagon, and after defeating the knights on it, the driver was scared enough that even without the watcher’s powers he probably would have told us what he knew, still the insurance about his honesty was useful. Once we were done speaking to him, the witch told me to switch clothes with him, so I’d have a good disguise, and then we let him go, to flee to the nearest town.

While Morgana compared the wagon driver’s description of the Duke to what she had written down on different creatures and their characteristics, I decided it was time I had a talk with Lyssa. “Hi, seems like our next quest will be quite dangerous, are you nervous at all?”

She turned to me with a smirk, “to be frank, cat, not as much as you’d think. I mean, this is what I’ve been training for, right? Stopping the inquisition and taking down the people who think they can just kidnap and kill whoever they find threatening or strange. I’m happy the time seems to have come earlier than I expected.”

I chuckled, “alright, I have something to thank you for, I imagine it’s impossible you didn’t notice these.” I pointed to my changed eyes.

“Hey, if you didn’t want to tell me, felt there was no reason for me to ask,” she answered.

“Well, I don’t know what’s about to happen in the coming days, so I figured I should at least tell you where these come from, and also something about our master…” I explained to her my pact with the watcher, and the story behind master’s black hands and powers.

Lyssa seemed somewhat forlorn, she looked down and said “I see, so, she doesn’t trust me, thinks I’ll go mad for power huh?” Though her lips stayed rigidly straight, I guess she didn’t want to seem as bothered as she was.

I wanted to better explain my master’s thought process, and why she’d chosen to keep this information from Lyssa for the time being. “Look, I think she knows your heart is in the right place, and she trusts you enough to make you a powerful warrior. She might just not trust pacts in the first place, my encounter with the watcher was a complete accident. And she did plan to tell you so you’d be prepared, but she didn’t want you to seek it out.”

“I know!” she half-snapped at me, throwing the stick she was holding to the ground “ I just… I just don’t like her assuming I’d make those choices. Even if she didn’t see it as malice, she’s still thinking I’d make those mistakes and you wouldn’t.”

I didn’t know what to say, I couldn’t really refute her complaints at all, so I just tentatively put my arm on her shoulder and brought myself close, saying “I’m sorry.” As softly as I could. Her whole body was tense, like she’d gone into an instinctive defensive state without anything to fight against.

We sat there for a while, not saying anything, before she pat my back lightly. “Thanks, cat, for trusting me with this, you’re a good friend.”

Soon, Morgana came back, she seemed agitated, but at the same time there was an electricity to her, like the euphoria people could experience in moments of great danger, both of these feelings bubbled under the surface of her voice and gestures when she explained: “Alright, here’s what we know, duke Lucius has his inquisitors head out about once a month, they usually bring back 2-4 people, usually women, accused of some form of “witchcraft”, all but one are publically executed, one is taken into the castle to “repent” in the chambers. The duke attends the executions by but he doesn’t go out for anything other than that, he stays in his room during the day, signing treaties and writing laws, and demands to be left alone during the night,” she gave a knowing smirk, “You may already suspect this, but I’m quite certain we’re facing a vampire.”

The witch raised her left hand, putting her fingers up as she enumerated the steps of her plan. “Here’s what we’ll do: you, familiar, can take us in the stolen wagon into the town, keep your hat over your eyes and don’t let anyone get too close lest they notice too much. We’ll head to the castle in the late twilight, early enough that the duke won’t suspect the time of his “meal” but late enough that we may have the advantage of the rising sun on our side, I don’t think it’ll outright kill a powerful vampire, but it might weaken him. We’ll need to stop by some other town to grab some stakes, maybe a torch or two, he’ll be very adapted to darkness.”

Lyssa had clearly listened as intently as I had, though she still had questions, “alright, but what should we know about the vampire’s abilities, what should I watch out for?”

“I’ve only heard stories of battles against vampires so I am not entirely sure, but I know he’ll have superhuman speed, reflexes and strenght, as well as limited shapeshifting and mind manipulation abilities, though if you both keep your focuses I’m sure it won’t be enough to control you, since I don’t intend to have you fight him directly, it’s too dangerous. I only need you two to distract anyone at the entrance so I may sneak in and confront him” answered Morgana, her expression becoming deadly serious by the final sentence, so I felt a bit too intimidated to argue.

I got up from where I was sitting, raising my hand timidly to ask, “alright, despite the vagueness of this plan, I don’t doubt your ability to defeat the duke, but are you sure this will solve everything? I mean, even if their true goal is just to feed the duke and keep anyone too wise down, doesn’t mean the inquisition will stop if he dies, the ideology used to justify it might live on with the people in power left, and we can’t just go around killing every member, they might total at the hundreds!”

The witch clenched her fists and her lips stiffened, as she turned away slightly for a moment before answering, “I can’t solve everything, truth is, the power vaccumm that will follow could have dire consequences. But the thing is, we can’t just let duke Lucius keep his power. Every month we delayed this would be another group of people slaughtered! He may even extend his reach to other communities like…” She clenched her teeth, though she’d stopped speaking I could clearly hear “Like he did with me.” After she composed herself a bit she continued, “the point is, I’m not sure what will happen after I take him down, but it’s gotta be better than this. We’ll figure it out from there, I’m sure people will eventually learn that the man was a parasite and these towns can and should run without him, if we train more witches there’ll be less reason to fear what’s out there and therefore less reason for people to blindly follow the inquisition. We can’t plan everything out beforehand, but we’re not going in blind either. You’ve both shown me that others can and will pick up the cause when given the chance.”

I nodded in agreement, and Lyssa said “let’s do this then, wipe him off the face of the Earth.”

“Thank you”, said Morgana, “and one more thing, familiar. I think you’ve learned enough to be your own witch, even without me from now on, so it’s time you get a name, what do you think of Cato?” she suggested with a proud smile.

I was surprised, but very happy, hearing that had made me realize how much I’d learned over my travels with the witch, and I wouldn’t hesitate to say that it was that moment that inspired me to compile her principal lessons in this text. When I answered her, my voice carried joy I’ve seldom felt in my life, and true appreciation for my teacher, “I’ll wear it proudly”.

#the witch's teachings #magic #fantasy #original writing #original work #original story #weekly

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winters-tales · 4 years ago

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Evening! I have a confession to make: I'm exhausted. I've been furloughed from my 9-5 job for 6 months, but I started back again at the start of this month. So I am back at work trying to relearn everything, and trying to keep up with NaNoWriMo, as well as sticking to my streaming schedule! It's a bit much. So today, I might not get much done, and that's ok!

To make up for it, here's another sneak peek of a bit more of the novel. CW for depictions of PTSD, implied alcoholism, implied suicidal tendencies, and forced sedation under the cut.

It wasn't easy to write, but I'm of the firm opinion that war - ANY kind of war - shouldn't be easy to write about or read about. This is obviously a fictional account, but PTSD is very real. Please look after yourself when reading!

Transcript of the debrief regarding Capt. [REDACTED] actions during Operation: [REDACTED].

Debrief in subject’s own words:

My name is Captain [REDACTED] and I was enlisted for a Black-Ops mission known as Operation [REDACTED] that began in May 1983. Myself, [NAME REDACTED] and [NAME2 REDACTED] were selected for this mission as a matter of utmost secrecy. I am satisfied that I am presenting my debrief to the proper chain of command, but even if I wasn’t, I don’t really give a fuck. Fuck your secrecy. I’ll tell anyone who asks.

When you signed up to fight in the War, you had to get comfortable with the impossible fucking fast. The foot soldiers I could deal with; they at least looked like us, more or less, in that uncanny valley, people-but-not-quite kind of way. Still, they were just people who didn’t quite look like me, and you’re trained not to think of people like that as people early on. Reduces the risk of you freezing up when you need to take an essential shot. But when it became clear that there was so much more to deal with, the knowledge that at the end of the day it’s still just people becomes a comfort rather than a horror. Isn’t that fucked up?

[sound of a teacup being placed in a saucer]

Have you ever seen a dragon? They’re not quite like the stories, you know, but they’re also like all of the stories together. [NAME REDACTED] hated us calling them dragons; he insisted they were Jabberwocks. Crazy bastard, but he got me and a few others out of a tight spot more than once, so sure, I’ll sing whatever tune he wants when he can hear us.

[pause, sound of chinaware clinking as the Captain fiddles with her teacup and saucer]

Shame.

[pause for 5 minutes as the Captain seems to contemplate something]

Anyway, dragons: They swallow fire. Sure, they breathe it, but they swallow it first. Not just standard flames, anything that could feasibly be called hot. Flares, phosphorous grenades, and even, as I saw once, nuclear warheads.

Lot of mixed feelings that day. Bastards for seeing us as disposable. Relief that it’s not getting dropped on us now. Hope it might kill the thing. Horror when it doesn’t. Pure terror as we see exactly what they’re capable of, exactly what we’re being asked to throw ourselves up against time and time again.

[pause]

Any chance of another brew? In a mug this time, I’m too rough for this fancy tea set. And if I could have my hip flask back, I’d appreciate it. It’s just rum. Nothing dire. Just to help me get through the rest of this. I know you’ve got me down as High Risk but truth be told, I’m too chickenshit to do that. I’ll live through everything because it’s not as scary as the alternative, just as long as I’ve got a little liquid courage.

[tape is paused briefly before the recording restarts]

That hits the spot. Right. Where was I?

Dragons. Jabberwocks. Infernal wyrms.

Whatever you decide to call them, whatever name you pick out of whatever fairy tales you grew up on, just know it doesn’t come close to the reality of them.

[chuckling]

The reality of dragons. There’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.

But yeah, the reality isn’t shiny. Impressive, yes, but on a scale your tiny fucking brain just can’t comprehend. Like standing at the base of a mountain and trying to work out how you’ll head-butt the peak.

I watched one of the colossal things snatch the first nuclear warhead out of the atmosphere, felt faint hope that it was just a dumb creature and would explode from the inside out… and watched it belch radioactive flame across our own ground troops. Instead of maximised dispersal over a wide area that was regrettably comprised of friend and foe, our lot got concentrated nuclear destruction while their lot walked away.

When you see something like that, it feels like there’s not a lot that can persuade you to go back out there. Queen and Country? What the FUCK is she going to do to me that’s worse than a dragon that EATS our nuclear weapons? Stand me against a wall with the rest of the poor motherfuckers who didn’t run far enough, fast enough, and shoot me personally? This bullshit-

[the sound of furniture being moved aggressively; the Captain had kicked the table away from her and begun striding around the room gesticulating]

-is why so much research was going into weaponizing DRONES-

[The Captain’s voice is becoming indistinct, although her volume is increasing; furniture is being thrown around her interview room, including the table, which cracks the one-way window in an impressive display of strength]

-because once we’d seen it first-hand there’s no amount of love for your fucking COUNTRY that’ll make you walk into the devil’s maw again!

[the interview room door opens hard and bounces off the wall as people enter quickly]

-no- get off me- I’m not wrong- I’m-

[indistinct shouting of multiple people]

-fucking hands OFF me you rat bastard -

[At this point in the interview the Captain had to be restrained by several orderlies and sedated. The recording was paused while we cleared the damage and found sturdier furniture and restraints. The Captain is much calmer when the recording begins again, a full 30 minutes after sedation was administered]

Anyway. Once a soldier has seen the widespread devastation of a nuclear attack – and not just one, when they’re forced to watch it again and again, with the knowledge their superiors have written them off as “acceptable losses” – they realise that their country really, truly does not care one fucking whit for them, and something in their brain breaks. You’ve then got to give them a reason not to run, not to take their trusty service pistol for one last hurrah, and certainly not to storm the offices of our beloved elected officials, grab them by their lapels, and ask them what the fuck they were thinking.

No, when soldiers break the way we did, when they can’t think of a reason to keep going, all you can do is harness what they do have left, and hope they self-destruct far away from where you’d need to clean it up. [NAME REDACTED] had rage, and the desire to destroy every last enemy, injury or no. I had my apathy and my stubborn stronger-than-gods-own-will survival instinct. Throw in someone who desperately wants to save the world more than they want to save themselves, and you’ve got the team of me, [NAME REDACTED] and [NAME2 REDACTED].

They told us – YOU, you bastards, you told us – that we were going to save the world, and truth be told I didn’t care. You told us we were going to eliminate the last credible threat to humanity as a whole, and during the briefing I wished you’d all die choking. But I went along with it. What else could I do? Maybe something would catch us and finally end my ridiculous will to live. All we had to do was gather intel, and cause as much damage as we could on our way out.

[There’s a pause as the Captain considers something]

Is Major [REDACTED] still around? Told him I’d demonstrate how soft he’d gotten if I made it back. Told him I’d- Well. Guess it doesn’t matter now.

[Pause]

[NAME REDACTED] and [NAME2 REDACTED], they were the damage. Higher-ups had their number, and knew that if it came to it, [NAME REDACTED] would likely stay behind to go out in a blaze of glory and cover our escape with a high casualty ratio. [NAME2 REDACTED] would, in their unfailing optimism, make every effort to return, no doubt about that, but if they couldn’t, they’d do the noble self-sacrifice to ensure at least one of us made it back in one piece with intel.

I was the messenger. They had my number too; they’d seen me walk out of situations that should have killed me and they knew I’d probably walk out of this one too, and they were banking on me not knowing what else to do except follow orders.

And you know the really fucked-up thing? They were right. Here I am, following orders.

The mission failed.

I remember the night before we went through: making sure we were kitted out properly before getting our rest, ignoring the PTSD nightmares when we woke each other through the night. Par for the course at that point; who wasn’t deeply messed up?

I remember the morning: breakfast was bacon pancakes with maple syrup and black pudding. Delicious. Last hot meal we’d get for who knows how long.

We roped ourselves together, and one by one we stepped into the godforsaken breach.

And from the moment we stepped through, to the moment I fell back out and into your compound, I don’t remember a goddamned thing. Not one second of it. For all I know, I stepped through and got spat back out straight away. There’s just a big old blank spot where time should be in my head, and I don’t have a clue what happened to the other two. Did they go out in a blaze of glory? Did they come back ahead of me with any intel they got? I don’t know, and you don’t either, because you weren’t expecting me at all, and if they’d made it back, you’d know I’d be following after.

And you’ve got the gall to tell me it’s me it’s been three-hundred and seventy-five years to the day since I left on my mission? You must think I’m fucking crazy.

Notes:

The Captain passed out quite quickly after asking if we questioned her sanity, presumably from the combination of strong alcohol and even stronger sedatives; that she was able to remain so coherent and measured after sedation is an impressive feat given how much was administered.

When she woke up again 4 hours later, she seemed perfectly coherent with no sign of any negative after-effects from the alcohol, sedatives, or the combination of both. There was no residual tiredness, she simply asked if she was being dismissed from duty yet, as she had a lot to think about. She said we could keep the hip flask. A concerning declaration; giving away meaningful items is a common prelude to a suicide attempt, so she is now on round-the-clock observation in a high security facility. While she insists that she’s at no risk of attempting, that’s not something we want to get wrong.

It’s true that the Captain more or less fell out of a breach that we’d previously thought to be inactive, however she swears blind that she was not responsible for the murder of Gatesman Antok and the two perimeter guards of the facility. CCTV investigation is unable to corroborate this, as she was the only unaccounted-for body on site, and CCTV did not pick up any other potential attackers entering the facility. The investigation into the murder is ongoing.

If any files on Operation: [REDACTED] exist, they’re almost certainly locked in a bunker somewhere or else consigned to a shredder some 300-plus years ago. Nevertheless, a request for information has been submitted to the relevant departments, and now undoubtedly sits in a bureaucratic traffic jam as we await the possibility of a declassified document. In the meantime, we’ve redacted the names of the accompanying team members to preserve what little deniability is left after almost 400 years.

#fen's originals #writing #NaNoWriMo2020 #creative writing #ptsd tw #alcoholism tw #forced sedation tw

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coyotecalling · 4 years ago

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The Artist and the Animals

One day, an ambling artist was plodding aimlessly around the woods, hoping to strike upon something to paint. Having trudged along for hours, arms full of various painting supplies and no inspiration to be found, the exhausted painter let out a sigh of pure exasperation and plopped down by the base of a shady oak. Leaning back against the solid tree, the artist began sifting through various chattel for their precariously packed lunch. Delicately pulling out a small neatly wrapped slice of avocado toast they bit down on the vaguely soggy meal.

With this momentary pause in their seemingly futile journey, the artist took a moment to carefully study their surroundings. It was a warm, mild day. A golden green light filtered through the lush green expanse, with a cool breeze dancing its way through the thick forest brush. The earthy aroma of damp moss, and dry leaves tickled the artist’s nose. It was an incredibly quiet moment; the forest taking a deep inhalation and holding it in a queer quiescence.

Then suddenly, as if out of thin air, a small, scrawny doglike creature materialized at the artist’s elbow.

“So, you’re the artist that everyone has been watching all day?!” the coyote mused loudly.

Taken aback not only by the sudden appearance of the small canine, but also by its firm grasp on the English language, the artist stared at the coyote in bewilderment.

“What? Coyote got your tongue?”, prancing daintily the coyote maneuvered itself right in front of the painter. Sitting back on its haunches the animal was eye to eye with its stunned audience, “What are you even doing out here anyway? Seems strange for a human to wander into our world.”

Managing to finally speak, the artist stumbled out, “I… came out here to look for inspiration for... a painting… or something like that...”

“You must be really stuck if you’re all the way out here!” Tilting their head thoughtfully the coyote paused for a moment in deep consideration, “I’ll tell you what, normally we animals don’t do this, but since you seem to be in such dire straits for inspiration and I’m VERY hungry… I’d be willing to make a trade with you!”

Perking up a little the artist mused; a talking coyote was an exciting, if not slightly terrifying, prospect, but a talking coyote willing to make a trade for potential inspiration was something else altogether.

Noticing the artist’s visible interest, a sly expression briefly flashed through the coyote’s eyes, “So here’s the trade: you give me your firstborn child, still wet from the womb, and I’ll show you around our world for inspiration.”

Uttering a noise that was a mixture of shock, and anger the artist scrambled to their feet in surprise.

Laughing gleefully at the reaction the coyote giggled “I’m kidding. Humans in general need to learn to lighten up, but you’re one of the most tightly wound ones that I’ve ever seen. Don’t even know a proper joke when you hear it..” Flicking their tail in amusement the coyote continued, “Give me that delicious avocado sandwich, and make sure I get some credit for the work that you create; then we’ll call it even.”

Still shaking from the shock of the coyote's first request, the artist carefully offered up the rest of their avocado toast to the animal with an arguably questionable sense of humor.

Swiftly coveting the offering, the coyote began scarfing it down in an impossibly short amount of time. Finishing its hasty meal, the little dog turned and quickly began flouncing away, “Better hurry up if you want me to show you the ropes!”

Hastily struggling to gather their painting supplies from the base of the oak tree, the artist haphazardly began following the coyote.

Continuing to trot several yards ahead of the artist, the coyote began talking at the artist, “Now, I have to tell you some things before we get there. This will be a little expositional, but you humans always feel the need to explain anything and everything to each other so I’m sure you won’t really mind.”

Letting out a grunt of agreement and annoyance the artist walked quickly after the fast-moving animal, attempting to make mental notes of the conversation.

“First thing, animals are like people in a lot of different ways, they aren’t really good or really evil. Much like yours truly.” Turning back to the artist the coyote winked, “So, it’s not wise to go about putting us all in boxes.”

“Secondly, all of the animals talk, and they’re all really different. The animals in your world don’t do this, but ours do. Some animals might want to talk to you, others might not. Respect them, and they’ll respect you.”

“And thirdly, like with me, give credit where credit is due. We aren’t just going to be your muses for free.”

The artist followed the coyote for what seemed like weeks and weeks, the coyote turning out to be a knowledgeable, if not a snarky host, and quite a social creature; introducing the artist to a multitude of creatures during their time together and by the end of their journey the artist’s mind was brimming with ideas.

On their last day together in the forest, the coyote and human were leisurely strolling back to the same oak they had met. Looking up at the artist the coyote asked, “So, human, how was it being in my world for a bit?”

Pausing thoughtfully before responding, the artist mused, “It’s strange, people think themselves so much different than you all, but you were right, we’re not that different at all. Sure, the way that we live our lives is miles apart, but the core of who we are is more similar than different.” Tapping their chin with an errant paintbrush the artist continued, “In your world I saw a mirror of who I am and what humanity is as a whole.”

Eventually back to the tree where they had met, both the coyote and artist bid farewell.

“I think you’ve seen and learned quite a lot, which is impressive considering that you’re a human. We’ve always got lots of good fodder for you silly artists, and if you ever want to come back just make sure you bring some more snacks along with you.”, and with a wink of their eye and a flick of their tail, the coyote disappeared as quickly as they had appeared, leaving the artist standing very much alone next to the shady oak tree.

#blog #coyote #artist statement #will i format?#HELL NO #fiction #story

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hungarianrhapsodyof1986 · 6 years ago

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I am Number 39 (Hardzzello fic based on an AU I made)

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Before the Citadel came into being, there was a war so great it tore apart each nation with the uncontrollable power of fear and pride. Countries big and small in size engaged in conflicts against one another; innocent souls of men, women and children claimed all too early as the violence that spread like a disease consumed the entire world. Thousands died everyday, and it seemed there would be no end to this war; a war greater and more dire than the first two... until the Forefathers came with their promise of a paradise for those who wished it.

Tired of the fighting and the unbearable pain, the people of the Old Earth accepted the Forefathers’ offer of Utopia. In exchange however of that great blessing, microchips were embedded in the people’s bodies - through a simple and noninvasive manoeuvre, really - and they, as promised, took away the pain of... everything. The remaining few; imbeciles, as I like to call them, refused and were forced to stay outside the Citadel. They now remain in Outside; nothing but an absolute wreckage of the world that used to be.

All that happened 263 years ago.

Now, we have a fully organised community with people (now known as Residents) who live in proper houses, have jobs just suited for them, Partners that match them perfectly and enough nutritious food and drink. Not forgetting, of course, the Academy where everyone has the opportunity to be educated formally.

Seriously, who wouldn’t want that?

The Youth can grow to become Scientists who make scientific breakthroughs that further improve the state of the Citadel. They can become Matchmakers in charge of Matching two Residents together. They can also become Agriculturists trained in the art of agriculture. Deliverers who deliver Morning and Evening Meals to their Assigned Residency, too. Or they could become Builders who build new Residencies. Manufacturers who craft devices and microchips, Nurses who care for the Newborns or -

“For the Job Assignment of Sentinel we have...” call the mighty members of the Sovranty in unison.

Yes, Sentinels.

Sentinels are the ones Assigned to protect Residents from threats to the community such as Abductors from Outside. Ever since the beginning of the Citadel, the Outsiders have been finding ways to take away what has been built by our Forefathers. Out of spite or out of jealousy, I don’t know, but what matters is that our Sentinels are there to protect us from those threats.

There are two types of Sentinels: Inner and Active. Inner Sentinels guard the Citadel from inside, doing their best to capture Abductors. Active Sentinels are sent to Outside where they discover the plans of the Outsiders and prevent attacks from occurring in the Citadel.

“Number 35, Inner. Number 24, Inner. Number 16, Active. Number 28, Inner. Number 30, Inner... and Number 39...”

I perk up when Number 39 is called, because that’s me.

I’m Number 39.

“Active Sentinel.”

Me, Number 39, Active Sentinel. It’s... amusing, actually. I know I did well during my Placement Examination, but I never expected this. I am but seven years old, and I know it’ll be many years before I’m finally sent to Outside, but the training will be a new experience.

I hardly blink as I stare ahead, everyone in the Atrium clapping their hands together in polite applause.

***

***20 years later, Year 283, the Citadel***

The bright rays of the morning sun is filtering through my white curtains as I wake up and check my bedside alarm clock. Printed digitally on its screen is ‘6.00 am’.

As punctual as always.

Sitting up in bed, I wait for -

Ding dong!

Never mind.

I pad my feet on the white-tiled floor for a moment before rushing to the lavatory to wash my face and tidy my hair. When I arrive, I splash some cold water onto my face then wipe it with a towel. After that, I look closely at myself in the mirror, grabbing a comb from atop the white sink and tidying my hair, styled in an undercut. I then study every feature, attempt to smile and to frown, furrow my brows, marvelling at how expressive my pale green eyes turn out to be. Perhaps that’s one reason why I was Assigned the Job Active Sentinel.

I didn’t honestly expect much when I was first called to be a Sentinel. I didn’t expect anything at all, actually. All I cared about was that I do my Job and I do it well. That’s what the Sovranty expects of us, and I believe that’s exactly what we were born to do. Serve the Sovranty. After all, they did save our lives from the harsh world of Outside.

Turns out, the training was more arduous than told to be. I, along with Number 16, was taught to be perceptive, to know how to act when appropriate. We were taught to express what they at the Training Centre called ‘emotions’. Emotions. What a waste of time. We were taught how to laugh and how to cry. To scream and to cower in fear. We were taught to analyse another’s emotions and sympathise with them. It was a drag, but that was what I needed to do.

For the sake of the Citadel.

Once I’ve made sure I look presentable, I proceed down the stairs carefully, holding the metal railing tightly in order to avoid slipping. The walls are hardly decorated; in fact, they’re as good as plain. The white of the concrete makes the whole place look almost blinding to the eyes, but that’s the standard set by the Sovranty, and it’s a standard the Builders must meet. The plainness of everything doesn’t bother me. All I really care about is that I have a home to live in just like the rest of the Residents in the Citadel. I doubt I’ll even have one where I’m going.

The pictures shown of Outside in my history holo-books and holo-pads depict a land of wreckages; bits of metal, concrete, and glass strewn about in an empty wasteland. It’s quite hard to believe it’s actually habitable there, but the Outsiders have found a way to survive, unfortunately, and that’s what’s important here.

The Outsiders are threats; constantly sneaking into the Citadel despite the efforts made by both the Inner and Active Sentinels to prevent them from doing so. They abduct our people, and who knows what happens to those they successfully do. They never come back.

Once I reach the bottom of the stairs, I open the door and see my Deliverer standing right before me; Number 23. I recognise Number 23 from my days in the Academy. I watched as he performed in the Placement Examination. The man was horrible at agriculture, crafting, physical activity and sciences, but he was pretty proficient in direction. It was only right he’d become a Deliverer.

I barely know him since we talk only little, but sometimes a small chat would be livening.

“Greetings, 39,” 23 tells me as he salutes. “Final day today?”

“Yeah. I’ll be going to Outside tomorrow,” I reply. “What’s today’s Morning Meal?”

“Cereal. I don’t know how it tastes, really, but I’ll find out soon enough.” He sets down his now-empty bag.

Trying to hold out the conversation a little longer, I ask “anything of interest happening today?”

“The only thing I know’s the public executing of Outsider Number 436. You’ll be watching it, of course. An alarm’s set for the event. First time watching?” 23 replies.

“Yeah.”

“Strange.”

“True.”

“Third time for me. It’s quite an... intriguing experience. I won’t talk to you about it just for the sake of not spoiling the entire thing, but all I could say is you wouldn’t want to miss it.” He checks his watch, huffing. “Anyway, don’t wanna be late. Gotta go.”

I nod. “Won’t be seeing you again, 23.”

With a final salute, 23 slings his bag on his shoulders and heads to his bicycle. I don’t know to whom he will be Assigned to deliver next after I’m gone, but the Sovranty will no doubt have a plan for him. The Sovranty cares for their Residents, arranging everything from our Daily Meals to mangaging the entire Citadel, and all it asks in return is effieciency and loyalty. It’s not much to ask for, so we must be thankful.

Bringing the metal box to the dining table, my bare feet remain cold as they step on the frigid tile. Implanted on the wall facing the street are large windows that allow me to glance outside and see the Residencies - they all look the same - across mine. I will remember the sight of plain houses when I see the wreckage of Outside and maybe even long for it again, but this is my Job. This was what I was created to do.

When I sit down after grabbing my utensils, the alarm atop my television sounds. The execution 23 was talking about must be starting now. I wish to see the fruit of my Job, see what happens when I achieve, so I decide to watch.

“Television, on.”

In a flash the television comes to life. I’ve used it once before; it was nothing but a try at it. I remember tapping on the screen and searching for both a button and a remote but finding none. Then came the brilliant idea to consult my holo-pad. Apparently, all I needed to do was say ‘television on’. I merely shrugged off the matter afterwards.

What, or rather who, appears on the television is nobody I recognise. It was earlier in the week when O436 - who is dressed as one of us - was caught in the act of an Abduction. No one knows whether O436 was acting alone, and while I think it’s about time the Sovranty put an end to that problem, I believe they have a plan, as they always do.

O436’s complexion comprises of a stubbed nose, dark brown eyes, pale skin and blond hair. O436 is a male, and he wears an expression I identify as indignation. What I don’t understand is why he believes he has a reason to be indignant. He’s the one committing the crime here. Whatever he will say or do, he deserves the punishment he’s to receive. However, if the Sovranty’s merciful enough to give leniency to him and offer a chance to be part of the Community, then let it be so.

The members of the Sovranty start speaking in unison.

“Were you alone in committing this offence against the Residents of the Citadel?” they ask.

“If you think I’m going to answer that, you’re gravely mistaken,” O436 replies. The audacity, I think, stopping mid-chew.

I continue to eat, although I register how I nearly drop my spoon onto the table due to how much my focus is being driven into the spectacle happening before me. “You must answer, otherwise no mercy shall be given,” the Sovranty says meanwhile.

“I don’t need your mercy,” O436 spits out, nostrils flaring as his face grows a brighter red. “You keep these poor people confined in this - this hellhole, and all you care about is progress when what should matter are their lives! You only want power when you have enough, and now you’re torturing these poor people for your benefit! I don’t need your mercy, and if you’re gonna kill me, that’s alright. I did my job, and I did it for the sake of what’s right.”

The Sovranty remains quiet for a short while before one woman speaks up from the row, saying “is that all you shall say, O436?”

“The name’s Devotion,” O436 says. “But all I wish to say now is goodbye... to my wife, Joy, and my son, Joseph.”

“Very well,” says the woman once more. “Bring in Doctor 54.”

An elderly man wearing a full white attire emerges from the doorway. The Sovranty’s centre is connected to one of the Hospitals in the Citadel for the members of the Sovranty’s easy access to healthcare lest one of them need it. Elder Doctors are in charge of caring for the Sovranty’s members; they have been in the industry for years by then and are specialists, so they offer only the best services. He walks in front of the row of seats where the members of the Sovranty are seated then takes a bow.

The Sovranty nods in acknowledgment of his greeting.

After the men and women of the Sovranty recognise him, 54 walks to the centre of the Atrium, bringing along with him a white suitcase. It’s a mystery to me; what’s inside the suitcase, but I’ll find out soon enough. After all, 54’s already made his way to O436’s side.

54 opens the suitcase and therefore reveals a small syringe and a set of phials. The phials are filled with a strange, clear liquid, and I realise what the Doctor’s intent is: he’s going to administer into O436 a lethal poison.

54 opens one of the phials and dips the needle into it, pushing the plunger. The barrel is filled with poison, and 54 recaps the phial and returns it into the suitcase.

O436 makes yet another show of bravery by staring at Death right in the face: as the needle of the poison-filled syringe is inserted into the skin of his arm, he looks at it intently, never blinking. Whatever belief the Outsiders have, it seems almost cult-like; the way they would sacrifice their lives for a belief that isn’t even remotely true.

O436 says nothing to calm him; in fact, he looks pretty serene now. It’s almost as if he isn’t about to die.

Nothing seems to be happening for a matter of minutes until suddenly O436 starts scratching at where the needle was inserted into him, the skin of his arm growing red with his efforts. The redness then spreads to the rest of his skin; to his face, his hands, wherever visible. There’s no doubt it has also spread to his legs and his arms, and even his bare feet have turned red.

After a while, O436 loses consciousness, his head dropping, his chin touching his chest. He would have collapsed were it not for the restraints that clasp his hands to the chair’s arms and legs to the chair’s, well... legs.

“Has he perished?” asks one man from the Sovranty.

54 places his stethoscope to the O436’s chest, to the left of his head where his heart lies. 54 says nothing; just raises a hand, implying that no, O436 is still breathing.

A minute or two passes, then 54 puts down his hand.

O436 is dead.

Everyone in the Atrium claps their hands together, then the television is switched off, indicating the end of the event.

I hardly bat an eye.

If I do my job well, there will be more to execute and less Outsiders to trouble us, so as I finish my cereal, I prepare myself for my Sending Out tomorrow; an unimposing ceremony but a great one nonetheless, readying myself for what’s to come.

***

“You are about to be Sent Out,” Head Sentinel 74 - a middle-aged man with whitened hair on the sides of his scalp and beard - says. “Remember, you’re not doing this for glory nor for the esteem of the Residents, but rather for their safety and the Sovranty’s.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply.

“You’re not being Sent Out to become one of them and if you ever betray us, we have the right to execute you. Understood?”

“Understood, sir.”

It’s now the day, but it feels like any other. I had no time for a Morning Meal, for I was expected to be at the Training Centre before the sun rose. The alarm came in handy. I woke up at 3 o’clock.

I wore my shoes and took my bike and cycled on through the dimly lit streets of the Citadel, the white of my clothes glaring under the streetlights. My Residence was built to be near the Training Centre for my convenience, so the journey wasn’t long. I arrived after 5 minutes.

I spent most of my day yesterday at the built-in gymnasium in my Residence, training. There wasn’t much to do, truthfully, and it was better I use my time for something productive than laze around. That wasn’t what I was trained to do. I was trained to strain myself; go past my limits for service to the Sovranty and the Residents of the Citadel. I was trained to maim, to kill, to prevent Abductions. I was trained to sacrifice my freedom, my everything for the sake of the greater good.

When I arrived at the Training Centre, the Head Sentinel was at the gates. I greeted him with a salute as is proper before parking my bicycle where it belongs. It will be disposed of; thrown to Outside, but I can’t bring myself to care. I was then brought to the gates of the Citadel; large barriers of a thick, unbreakable glass, and that’s when I first caught sight of Outside.

As pictures had shown me earlier on during my Training, Outside was nothing but a land of wreckages and death. Giant remains of tanks and buildings protruded from the ground, and although it seems empty, I know the City where the Outsiders life must be way farther beyond the borders of the Citadel. I still don’t see how anyone can survive this environment, however.

“The Outsiders’ City is farther north from here. Unfortunately, we won’t be able to provide you with transportation past the borders of the Citadel for fear of detection, but I promise you the journey won’t be long. Now, come. If you’re to appear as if you’ve escaped this place, you need to look roughed up.”

Head Sentinel 74 smears mud on my face, hands, shoes, clothes and hair, messing it up. I look positively haggard afterwards, but that’s all part of the job. It’s dirty work, figuratively and literally, and it’s my mission in life.

“You be careful,” Head Sentinel 74 tells me. “We don’t wanna hear you’ve been caught few months into the job.” He hands me a transmitter. “This is for when we contact you, or when you need to contact us.”

“Yes, sir.”

“When we contact you, it will buzz. Best you go somewhere private so nobody notices you.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, keeping the transmitter in my pocket. It’s no bigger than my palm and can fit in anywhere easily.

“The others have gone and we presume they’ve been killed by the Leaders. They’re savages, and we don’t know how they handle things there, so do your best not to get caught. We’re all counting on you, Sentinel 39. The fate of the Residents and the Sovranty rests in your hands.”

“Understood, sir,” I say, saluting.

“Now, let’s move while the day’s still young.”

We board a hovercraft and rapidly move away from the gates noiselessly. I sit down and buckle up as Head Sentinel 74 stands near the front, gripping the handle and steering us away from the Citadel. I’ll never be seeing it again, but I feel nothing. I’ve been trained in the art of imitating emotions, but I never felt them.

The sun is still down, and there’s nothing to be seen save for the path illuminated by the lights of the hovercraft. The land is parched and cracked, nothing able to grow from the dead soil. However, as we travel further away, the soil appears richer, spots of grass growing from the ground. I remain vigilant all throughout the trip, just in case there are Outsiders lurking about, suspecting.

Soon, I see a yellow, glowing light in the distance. That must be the Outsiders’ City Centre.

“Is that truly...?” I ask.

“Your intuition has not failed you yet, Sentinel 39. Indeed, that’s the City Centre. It’s much like our District 1, but... primitive. If you gain the favour of at least one of the Leaders, you’ll be able to live there. I suggest that you do. From what I’ve heard, the outer parts of the City are nasty places. Just nasty.” He sniffs. “Anyway, this is where we say goodbye.”

I unbuckle my seatbelt and salute. “It was an honour training with you, sir,” I say.

Head Sentinel 74 merely nods. Then he tells me to go, turning the hovercraft around and zooming away from where I stand.

That’s when I start running.

It’ll be soon when I’ll need to get my act together; to fool the Outsiders into thinking I have escaped the Citadel, but for now... it’s time to keep going.

For the Sovranty.

***

“Help!” I cry out as I near the Outskirts of the City. More mud smears my white shoes (which are now battered due to the long run) as I run upon grass and soil. I sound absolutely terrified, and I can see from the corners of my eyes how lights are lit and people are awakened by my shouting. I mind them not as I proceed to the City Centre, hoping to get the attention of one of the Leaders there.

As I rush across muddy roads, more people are roused from their slumber, and I see children and elders alike, looking at me with horror plain on their faces. “Help!” I continue to shout, and I can hear murmurs from the crowd that begins to follow me as I carry on to the centre.

“Someone help that poor man,” I hear a woman say.

The lights grow brighter as I near the Centre, and suddenly I bump into someone, ultimately stopping my run. The person falls down when I do, but they rise quickly as I pretend to be dazed.

“Hey, are you alright?” the person asks. Male. Fairly young.

“Where am I? Where the hell am I?” I ask, the panic a part of my act.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” the man tells me. “You’re Outside now. You’re saved. Now let me help you up.”

He grabs my arm gently and pulls me up as carefully as he can. “Who are you?” he asks me quietly. I’m aware of the spectacle I’ve created as well as the huge crowd of people gathered around us, but all I care about’s the man who helped me up. Is he a Leader?

“I - I - I don’t know,” I reply.

“You’re from the Citadel?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. What was your Number, then?”

“39.”

The man pauses in his steps, and he looks at me. His hazel eyes seem to gleam with something even I can’t put a name to, but it lasts all but a while. I just notice then how I’m an inch taller than him, but I decide that information is useless.

“Well, we can’t have that here,” the man says, smiling. “You’re now Ben. And now that you’ve got a name, it’s time to introduce myself. My name’s Joseph, but you can call me Joe. Another name of mine’s Love, and that’s ‘cause I’m a Leader of this place. You’ll love it here, I’ll promise you that, but first, it’s time to get you cleaned up. Come with me.”

As I’m brought to who-knows-where, I formulate a plan to befriend this ‘Joe’. Maybe he’ll be my key to knowing every plan they’ve made. Maybe he’ll be the one to bring me victory.

*************************

So, that’s the end of the first part! What are your thoughts so far? Confused about this AU? Don’t worry! I’ve made a post about it! Just check it out on my page if you need a reference. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading the first part, and if you have any title suggestions (‘cause I can’t decide djeoendodk), just tell me! Till the next part!

#hardzzello #hardzello #harzello #ben hardy #joe mazzello #AU fic #i still don’t know what to call this AU #help me #please #anyway #thanks for reading!#tell me what you guys think!

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hymn2000 · 5 years ago

Text

Where The Darkness Ends - MCU AU fanfic - C8

Story summary: The concept of having a baby has been more of an idea for a long time now. Ideal candidates for a three-person baby, Loki and Tony have finally, after many Peter-based setbacks and challenges, got to the point of being tested. Now, they just have to wait for the results before they can move on to the next stage.

Previous Chapter(s): 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Part of my Frostiron and Spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: family stuff, mental health stuff, hurt/comfort, hospital/medical stuff, fertility stuff, IVF, potentially some medical inaccuracies, alcohol misuse

You can also find me on AO3

Chapter 8 - It's Hard To Feel What's In Your Head

Pepper forced more coffee into Loki and Tony, and a starchy meal, and then sent them to one of the spare rooms to ‘sleep it off’.

“Go! I’m sick of both of you” she said, only half joking. “Go to sleep”

Wisely, they did as they were told. Pepper waited until she heard a door close and then looked at the kitchen properly. It had been a challenge cooking in such a mess, and she hadn’t really found any proper food aside from the pasta she’d served. She looked at the empty bottles and cans littered about the place. It was a bit ridiculous, really - and scary. She really wished now that she’d been more insistent and come round to help them out earlier, even though they’d told her not to. She couldn’t help feeling just a tiny bit responsible for what had happened here.

Still, she shook her head and got to work. Just clearing the huge amount of alcohol containers (which took a good three bin bags) made the kitchen look a whole lot better. Well, the rubbish had to take priority, and Pepper had a feeling there would be more bottles and cans for her to discover.

As was usually the case, she was right: there were bottles and cans all over the place. Loki was usually so houseproud, keeping a good, tidy home, and this was so out of control, so absolutely opposite to the usual, that it made the desperation of the Stark’s mental state so much clearer - more so even than Loki’s cry for help.

It took a long time just to get rid of all of the rubbish and open the windows. It was clear very early on that this was not a one man job. Well, those two had to channel themselves into something. She knew what they were going through - heck, it had hurt her too. But Loki and Tony needed to step up. They weren’t going to get over the blow overnight, but they needed to pick themselves up, look after themselves, look after each other, and seek help. Proper help. Calling Pepper had been the first step - a big step, she knew that. Now they needed to sort their house out. And then they needed to talk. Properly. It was the only way they were going to come to terms with any of this.

Loki and Tony didn’t sleep for too long, and Pepper somehow managed to walk in just as they were waking up.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“Slightly sober” Tony said, wrinkling his nose.

“Mm. And my head hurts” Loki said.

“I’m not surprised” Pepper said, opening the window as wide as it would go. “Right, we need to do something about this house. Get up”

“I said slightly sober” Tony scowled.

“That’s good enough. Nothing like a bit of hard labour to sort your heads out. Come on; there’s loads of work to do. This place is a mess. Now get up”

Loki sighed and hauled himself out of bed. Tony did too, but he didn’t look happy.

“Ok. I’ll do the kitchen and bedrooms” Pepper said. “I definitely don’t trust you anywhere near knives and glasses right now. Tony, start with your study and work your way round from there. Loki, start on the landing and work your way from there. We’ll meet in the middle some time and then tackle the downstairs together”

Tony stared at her. She smiled slightly, twirled the cleaning keys on her finger, and then threw them to Loki, who caught them easily enough.

“It’s open, but you should keep hold of those. So” she stood to the side of the doorway, nodding out to the landing. “Get busy”

Pepper set FRIDAY back up, and put the stereos and radios on, bringing a bit of life to the dirty depressing house. That, and the open windows blowing in cold air, certainly helped. Tony grumbled like anything at first - Pepper could hear him from down the hall - but after a while he went quiet, focusing on his work. Loki was quiet all the while, but he worked diligently, and Pepper fancied she could see a change in him after the first hour. It looked as though keeping busy was helping.

Pepper had given herself a tough job, as the kitchen was in a dreadful state state. That took the longest, a good 90 minutes from washing up at the start to sweeping and mopping the floor at the end. From there she had the bedrooms. Loki’s room was in a much better state than Pepper had expected, which was a relief. It was just a shame she couldn’t say the same for Tony’s room. She dreaded to think what his study and the lab were going to be like. She did their rooms, and then checked all the spare rooms, straightening out the room Loki and Tony had slept in. She went and checked Peter’s room. Aside from the spare rooms, it was definitely the cleanest place in the whole house as far as she’d seen. It just looked the same as it usually did, only a bit dusty and with some things out of place. She gave it a quick going over anyway, and then went and took the mountain of dirty washing down to the laundry room.

The laundry room certainly hadn’t been used any time in the past month. Well, thank god for the two washers and dryers, she thought, putting a couple of loads in. This was going to take a hell of a long time.

Eventually it did start to look like they’d made some sort of progress. Once the upstairs was finally done, right down to the windows being cleaned and the skirting boards being wiped clean, they went downstairs. The lab hadn’t been used, which was a huge worry considering how Tony usually reacted in times of crisis, but at least it meant giving it a clean wasn’t too much of a struggle. The swimming pool was maintained by an outside source, so they didn’t need to worry about that. Pepper set the two of them to work on the little side stores and the main lobby and stairs while she sat and sifted through the post, separating the junk mail from the actual mail, sorting it into recipient piles and sub-piles, from important to less important to not important. She set it all carefully on the little round table in the entrance, deciding there was nothing that couldn’t wait until tomorrow. After all, some of those letters had waited a month already.

It was dark by the time they’d finished. Pepper told them to go and shower and get changed, and once they had done so, they all three flopped on the sofa in the living room. It felt a little strange seeing everything so clean and orderly again after so long.

“How do you feel now?” Pepper asked after a few minutes.

“Sober” Tony said, and Loki nodded in agreement.

“You nearly look it. I know you’ve been drunk for a while now. We need to be a bit carefully, especially with you, Tony. I’m going to stay for a while” she said. “I’ll help you, both of you. We’ll get you better”

“What’s the point?”

“You’ve got a life to be getting on with. And you’ve got a son, who I daresay is going to really be missing you. We’ll get you well enough to go and see him. We’ll work on the rest as best we can”

“How have you done it?” Tony almost snapped. “You were cut up about it when you found out too”

“Yes, I was. I still am” Pepper said. “It’s a bit different for me though... I was just a bit more proactive, seeing that therapist, talking to people, friends, family. Keeping myself busy. I knew I should have seen you earlier. I didn’t realise how bad things were when you stopped replying to my messages and ignoring my calls”

“I don’t think he realised either” Loki said. “I think... When I went the same way, I knew how dire things were, but it didn’t hurt so much when I was drunk. So I just ignored it”

Pepper sighed sadly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you earlier. We need to sort you out. I’m going to cook, and tomorrow we’re all going to see a therapist”

“I don’t want to see a therapist!” Tony snapped.

“You need to!” Pepper snapped. “Look at the state you got yourselves into! Thank god you had to sense to send Peter to his uncle’s”

“I sent him to get him away from Loki”

Loki and Pepper stared at him.

“...What?”

“You heard me” Tony scowled at her. “I thought Loki was gonna hurt him, like in all those case studies online where people have lost kids and taken it out on their other ones”

“What?! Tony, how could you think so lowly of me?” Loki stared at him, tears filling his eyes. “How could you think-”

“I didn’t want to think it!” Tony interrupted. “I just did, and I tried to shake the thoughts, and then you shoved him, and even though you hugged him straight away afterwards, you still hurt him! You made him squeak! And I was scared, Loki. I was really scared. I knew I wouldn’t be able to look after both of you, and if you started hurting him, I just- I’m sorry, but I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t take that risk!”

“It’s just as well” Pepper said. “He needs to be out of the way while you two are as low as this. Loki, don’t look so defensive. Tony, it’s ok. You just did what you thought was best”

Loki went quiet. He didn’t know what to say. He turned away from Tony.

“...I let him down. I was gonna take him out. I slept through it, and then I kept meaning to go, but every night I just couldn’t” Tony said thickly. “And then I stopped thinking about it. Even though he keeps calling and texting”

“That’s something you need to make amends for at a later date. We need to sort out the here and now first” Pepper said.

“My retest came back the same” Loki said. “I’ve got another one in a couple of weeks. It’ll be the same though, I know that already”

“Loki, darling” Pepper sighed. “I can only imagine how this feels for you, if it feels like this for me, and if it’s done this to you two. But you can get help. There’s options”

“It was always going to be the three person way” Tony said. “That way it would’ve been both of ours”

“...We’re not having a baby” Loki closed his eyes and rested his forehead in his hand. “I can’t have children”

“No, you can’t. Not like that” Pepper said. “And it’s horrible, but you can’t change that. But you’ll come to terms with it”

“There’s no help for people like me” Loki said. “Even people at work know that. There’s no infertility support for men, not really. They just shove adoption and sperm donation suggestions at you”

“You’ve already done one of those things” Pepper pointed out.

“It’s not the same”

“No, it’s not” she said. “But it’s something to consider. You’ve got a kid. You might not have made him, but you’ve got him, and he’s yours. Undeniably yours. Maybe... a baby-”

“No” Loki said. “We were going to make one. I’m not adopting a baby. I want my own baby”

“Loki, that’s impossible now, you know that” Tony said.

“I know” Loki sighed. “But it’s still what I want”

There was a small silence. Pepper checked her watch and sighed.

“I think it’s time we all called it a night. We’ve got to get up in the morning”

“I don’t want to go to that therapist” Tony spat.

“Tough” Pepper said. “You’re going. Now go to bed”

Two days later, there was a knock at Thor’s front door. Peter stayed where he was, settled on the sofa in the living room with his book. He heard all the muffled voices, sounding quite heated, and then he heard Thor calling his name. Cautiously, he made his way to the kitchen - and froze.

“Oh...”

He glanced at Pepper, and looked at his parents. He’d spent so long willing them to show up, wishing to see them, but now that they were here, he suddenly wished they were anywhere else. Suddenly he didn’t want to see them, or be near them. He felt weird - nervous, almost scared. His heart was thudding in his chest, and he suddenly felt cold.

“Hey sweetheart!” Tony said, smiling at him. “How are you doing? Thor looking after you ok? It’s so good to see you! I’ve missed you, kiddo”

Peter didn’t say anything. He felt sick. He hurried over to Thor’s side, keeping a good distance between him and his parents, trying not to look at them.

“Do you want a drink?” Thor said gently, stroking the boys hair gently.

He went over to the fridge and got out a bottle of pop, which he handed to Peter. Peter took it, holding it in both hands. He felt sick, and his eyes had started to fill with tears.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Tony said, concerned. “You feeling poorly? Hey, come and give me a hug. A little cuddle will help you feel better. Come on, chick, come here”

Peter didn’t. He looked at Thor for help. Thor squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

“Why don’t you go back to your room for a bit?” he said.

Peter nodded, grateful for this excuse to leave, and made for the door.

“Hey!” Tony made a grab for him.

Peter dodged, and Thor caught hold of Tony to stop a second attempt, letting Peter escape.

“Leave him alone”

“He’s my son! I just wanna give him a cuddle”

“Well, he doesn’t want you! You’ve had every opportunity to see him, but instead you cut him off for no reason. You’ve got no right to barge in here after not seeing or contacting us for weeks”

“That doesn’t mean he’s not my son! You can’t just stop me from seeing him”

“I’m not: he is. He doesn’t want to be near you, that much is clear. And I can’t blame him. You broke his little heart, abandoning him like that”

Tony pulled free from Thor, and sat back down heavily. Thor looked at him. He looked at Loki, and then at Pepper.

“I take it you’re the reason they’re here now?”

“Well, essentially, yes” Pepper said awkwardly.

“Well done” Thor said. He looked between Loki and Tony. “What was it? Was it alcohol?”

They paused, looking uncomfortable, and then Loki nodded.

“A part of it...” he said.

“A large part?” Thor pressed.

Loki looked at Tony, and had to nod.

“You don’t get to judge” Tony said crossly. “You don’t know what this is like for us”

“No, I don’t” Thor said. “But while you’ve been drowning your sorrows and wallowing in self pity, I’ve been looking after your little boy. Single-handedly, might I add, and in difficult circumstances where I couldn’t even get in touch with his parents when I needed help, and sorting some of these problems hasn’t been an easy feat. I know what happened was awful, but you should’ve done better by him. He needed you, and you weren’t there”

For a while no one knew what to say.

“I tried at first” Loki said eventually, keeping his eyes cast down. “But the way Tony was got to me. And then it just felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere the way I was doing things. So it was easier just to join in...”

“You should have called me, called someone. You should have reached out!”

“I did...”

“No you didn’t, otherwise we wouldn’t be in this mess”

“He rang me” Pepper said. “A few days ago. He knew he needed help; he admitted it”

Thor sighed, covering his eyes for a moment. “Well, they’re here now, and I suppose that’s progress”

“It is. You didn’t see the state of them and the house when I turned up. This is a huge turn around”

There was another short silence.

“...I can appreciate that, and everything you’ve done” Thor said. “And I’m proud. But there’s still a lot of work to do”

Everyone else nodded. They all knew Thor was right.

“You’ll get there, with the right support” Pepper said. “You need to let us help you”

Tony and Loki nodded slightly. Tony sighed and stood up.

“I want to see my son”

“No” Thor said firmly. “Leave him alone. He’s got enough to contend with without you going in and upsetting him. You can see him when he decides he’s ready”

Well, Tony didn’t like that. He exploded, and Thor shouted back. Loki tried to calm them at first, but then the tension turned onto him, and it wasn’t long before all three men were shouting back and forth between themselves. Pepper watched them for a while. She knew there was no point interrupting or trying to get them to stop, so she slipped out of the kitchen.

Peter pushed his headphones back off his ears so they were round his neck. He looked up at Pepper.

“Hi, kid” she said gently. “Mind if I join you?”

Peter nodded, turning his music player off. Pepper closed the door and went and sat down beside him on the bed.

“You’re not here to try to get me to go and talk to my dads, are you?”

“No” Pepper said. “I’m not surprised that you don’t want to see them”

Peter nodded. “Why didn’t dad come to see me? He promised he would. And then he blanked all my calls and texts and stuff”

“They both spiralled and went to a pretty dark place. You don’t need to know the details. But they’re getting better. They’ve made the first few steps anyway, and they’re working on it. They’ll visit now. You won’t have to see them if you don’t want to, but they’ll still visit”

“Mm...” Peter went quiet, listening to the sounds of the men shouting in the other room. “It’s weird hearing uncle Thor so angry and shouty and stuff. He’s not really that kind of person. Not with me, anyway”

“Has he been looking after you well? I’ve been a bit worried about you, especially since I found out how bad things were with your dads”

“Yeah, he’s been really good. He’s always so kind and understanding and stuff, even when I’m being kinda difficult. He doesn’t really get cross and he never shouts or smacks me, so that’s good, I guess... He’s been trying to help me with my school work too, even though he doesn’t really understand a bunch of it. He’s really bad at geography, but at least there’s google and textbooks and stuff to help”

“Tony said you’re off school at the moment”

Peter nodded. “I still get all the work sent to me, and then I do it and send it back, and then they send it back to me when it’s been marked. And I can email some of my teachers if I need help”

“How are you finding that?”

Peter shrugged. “Ok, I guess. I mean, it’s a little hard to concentrate sometimes, and they don’t really send enough to occupy me for like, a full week, so it’s easy to get bored too. I’m still getting decent grades but... Well, you know. I’m still sad and stuff”

“I know” Pepper looked at him. “Have you been getting out much?”

Peter nodded. “We at least go on a walk every day, even when I have a tantrum about it. Uncle Thor keeps taking me to museums and out to the cinema and on like, bus rides and train journeys and stuff. Or just like, takes me to the shops or out for lunch and stuff. He said daddy was really bad when he lived here ‘cos he didn’t get to go out much and he got bored and frustrated, and I guess he wants to stop me from kicking off and stuff”

“Well, that’s good, and that makes sense. Is it working?”

“Kinda. I still kick off sometimes. I’ve got a lot of stuff to deal with”

“I know” Pepper put an arm round Peter. “You’re a good kid. I’m glad you’re being looked after properly and you’re keeping up with your school work. I’ll come and see you too, if you like”

Peter nodded. “That’d be nice”

“Have you been seeing your friends at all?”

Peter shook his head. “It’s a bit awkward right now, y’know. They’re all at school and it’s all ok for them, and I’m here just... It’s still weird to think about it. Don’t you think? I mean, well, you’d be pregnant by now if things had gone the way they should’ve done”

“Yes, I know. It is strange to think about it. I’d been preparing for it too. I had so much in place. It’s a horrible situation, poor Loki’s condition, but I’m starting to come to terms with it, and your parents will come to terms with it too. They’ve still got you to think about, regardless of the whole IVF situation”

“They haven’t been thinking about me so far” Peter said bitterly. “Daddy hasn’t seen me or spoke to me or anything at all, not since the day dad dropped me off here. And dad buggered off and stopped getting involved soon after that anyway. They haven’t thought about me at all the past however many weeks”

“They still love you, kiddo”

“You don’t know that”

“Yes I do”

Peter didn’t look convinced. He put his headphones back on. Pepper noticed he didn’t turn the music on, but she got the message. She gave him a squeeze and stood up.

“No one is going to force you to do anything. Take care, Peter. I’ll see you again soon. You’ve got my number if you need me”

The men had finally stopped shouting when Pepper got back to the kitchen. They were glaring at each other, breathing heavily.

“Finished?” Pepper said, raising an eyebrow pointedly at them.

They nodded, and Thor sighed.

“I stand by what I said” Thor said. “You stay away from him”

“He’s my son!” Tony shouted.

“Will you stop?!” Pepper snapped. “Can’t you at least try to discuss this in a civil manner?”

“What is there to discuss?” Tony scowled. “I can see my son if I want to”

“He doesn’t want to see you. I think you should keep visiting, but don’t force yourself on the poor kid. He’s got every right to be angry with you”

“This is a waste of time” Tony said. “Let’s just go home. I’m gonna go and say goodnight to my son”

Loki grabbed his hand. “Don’t. Leave him alone”

Tony pulled his hand away and stormed out of the room. They all froze, and then heard the front door go. They all breathed out, relieved he hadn’t gone to Peter.

“We should go” Loki said.

Thor nodded and pulled him close. “Stay in touch this time”

Loki nodded slightly and pulled away. He looked at Pepper. Pepper looked at Thor.

“Sorry for springing on you like this”

“No, it’s ok. Thanks for giving these two a kick” Thor said. “Maybe see you again some time”

“Sure” Pepper said. “Goodbye”

Thor knocked on Peter’s door and opened it.

“They’re gone”

Peter nodded. “I know”

“Is there anything playing through those headphones?”

Peter shook his head. Thor closed the door and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Are you ok?”

Peter shrugged. “I thought I’d be excited to see them again. Happy”

“But instead?”

“I don’t know. I just felt all weird and scared and angry. I know they’re all kinda upset and hurting and stuff but they still abandoned me”

“What do you want to do now?”

Peter swallowed. “...Can we order a takeaway?”

Thor took his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Peter. Peter smiled slightly and leant into Thor as he opened a takeaway app. Thor gently took Peter’s headphones off and moved them aside.

“That’s better” he said softly.

Peter made a vague noise of agreement, scrolling through some menus. Thor rested a hand on Peter’s head.

“It’ll be ok” Thor said. “You don’t have to see them until you’re ready”

Peter nodded slightly. “Thanks... Have you ever thought about having kids?”

Thor paused. “I’ve never really been in the right situation to consider it. Why?”

“You’d make a good dad. You’re good at looking after me”

“Well, thank you” Thor said. “I’m trying to do my best by you. I love you, little nephew Peter”

“I love you too, big uncle Thor”

Thor smiled. “Good. Now, what are we having to eat?”

Pepper made Tony help with the tea.

“You two were ridiculous today” Pepper said. “Loki, you barely said a word. And Tony, you said way too much. Actually, you didn’t speak; you shouted. A lot. No wonder the poor kid holed up in his room! You made Thor worse too. As if he wasn’t angry enough already, all that stuff you shouted at him. Listen, you’ve both done really well these last few days, and I’m proud of you, but today you really showcased how much more work you’ve got to do”

Loki stayed quiet, and for a moment, Tony did too.

“It’s only been a few days” he said. “It wasn’t easy for us either, we all know that. You saw the look on Peter’s face. How do you think that made me feel?”

“I know, but-”

“I’ve got enough going on without losing my little boy. Thor might be looking after him, but he’s got no rights here. He can’t keep him forever, and he can’t stop me seeing him”

“He’ll try though” Loki said.

Tony looked at him. “That kid has been my little boy for way too long for me to give him up or go down without a major fight. Thor can’t take him from me. I trusted him to look after him, but he’s still my son. I’m definitely not letting anyone get in the way of that. Even if the IVF fell through, I’m still a dad”

“Well then you need to work on getting better so you can keep being a dad. You’re good dads, both of you” Pepper said. “But you’re not in the right position to do your best by your kid right now”

“More therapy sessions and things like that” Loki said. “And we need to get in touch with Li Allen”

“Do that soon” Pepper said. “She’ll be able to help you better than I can. I love both of you so much, but there’s only so much I can do. I’m not a professional”

“We’ll sort it” Loki said. “I need to get back to work”

“You need to think about yourself first” Pepper said. “You can’t look after anyone else until you look after yourself”

#my writing #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #frostiron #irondad and spiderson

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ilovemygaydad · 6 years ago

Note

18 ON THE DIALOGUE PROMPTS SORRY I FORGOT TO SPECIFY

it’s cool lol. I used two of the 18s because... it fit idk.

Title: Captive Heart

Prompts: “What’s that? Why is the sky like that?” “What? Have you never seen a sunset before?”; “Please answer me.”

Pairings: Prinxiety (well... it’s kind of more platonic/pre but it’s still cute okay)

Warnings: death mentions, gun mentions, mass shootings, prisons, dystopian societies, executions mentioned, physical fights, being mean to others, mentions of wounds, amputations, prosthetics, a metric ton of swearing, panic attacks, anxiety, IVs, hospitals, and i think that’s it but... there’s a lot of shit that goes down

a/n: this got.... very long........

**don’t rip out ivs it’s Really Bad and i know this is a trope but uhhhh virgil doesn’t know any better because he literally has the knowledge of like a 7 year old child who has only seen the outside world like 50 times in 21 years

Roman was so excited to go on his very first raid mission. He had spent the last twenty-one years training for this very day, and now he was finally able to do it! And on his birthday, no less. It was an exciting day, even if Logan was being a giant thorn in his side.

“Roman, do remember that this warehouse is over twenty klicks away on rough terrain, and we are only going to be able to bring enough provisions for us for the next twenty-four hours. Don’t go off-route, and certainly don’t lag behind. This is a very important mission for us to gain supplies; I will not have a rookie like you messing this up.”

“Oh my gods, Specs!” Roman sighed. “First off, you’re only twenty-two, so it’s not like you’re some seasoned veteran like Patton. Second, give me a break! I’m far more reliable than you’re making me out to be. I wouldn’t have made it into L-1 if I was stupid.”

Patton set down the bag he was packing with a grimace. “Well, kiddo, you did go off course in the sim to save that ‘child’ that ended up being a trap. And then you died in that sim. And there was also the time you lagged behind because you were sure that you had found something in the woods and wound up getting lost until we were on our way back. Oh, and what about--”

“Okay! Okay, I get it. I’m a horrible soldier. However, I know that this is far more dire than a sim. I won’t screw up, promise.”

Logan glared at him for a second, but he wave his hand in dismissal. “Fine. Just remember that I am the captain of this mission, so you are to report back to me if anything goes awry. All thirty of us will have comm-packs, so it shouldn’t be an issue to contact me; however, if something does happen to your comm-packs, I will be notified of such.” He handed Roman his bag. “Shall we?”

“Fuck yes!”

“Roman Sanders,” Patton chided as he readied the gate.

“Um… Heck yeah!”

“Better.”

The supplies raid didn’t end up being a supplies raid at all. It was a warehouse full of prisoners. And, gods, it was a bloodbath. As soon as the rebel soldiers had been spotted, instead of shooting at the soldiers, the Savior guards began to kill off the prisoners. Roman had desperately wanted to run ahead--to try and save even one of those people, but he knew that he couldn’t jeopardize himself or the mission like that. He had promised.

So, instead, he followed Logan’s orders to the letter, and he watched countless children and adults die. These innocent people were killed right before his eyes, and all he could do was hang back and stay safe while the others secured the perimeters and took the guards as prisoners. Roman was too important to lose.

All of that hurt--it hurt so fucking bad--but none of it was as awful as having to go around from room to room and check for survivors so they’d know who to loot and bury. It was a slaughter that he had not been able to stop, and they were just going to take the useful clothes and other items and dump the bodies into unmarked mass graves. Roman loved the cause that he was fighting for, and he knew that he was on the right side, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Each time that he went to find a pulse on a kid not much older than his brother, he felt his soul crumble that much more.

He had gone through four or so rooms without finding anyone still living. Logan had ordered the search to cease in five minutes before regrouping to determine a burial strategy, so Roman only had time to go through one last room. There were only three bodies in this one, all huddled together in the back corner, so it was easy to go through it quickly. He made it through the first two with the same results as before, but the body farthest back… had a pulse.

“Holy--Oh my gods, wake up!” Roman shook the boy in front of him gently, willing him to wake up. “Are you alright? Oh, please answer me!”

When nothing happened, Roman decided that he obviously needed to save this boy. He was so frail; it looked like he hadn’t had a proper meal in… well, ever. With an uncomfortable amount of ease, Roman scooped him up into his arms and rushed back to the rendezvous point. Most of the crew was there already, save for Patton and a few others.

“Logan, I--”

“Roman, why are you carrying a body around?”

“It’s a survivor! We have to take him back with us.” Roman took a step forward, but Logan held out his hand to stop him.

“Absolutely not. We will leave him here for the night and bring him back with the Savior guards tomorrow.”

“Logan, please--”

“What,” Patton interrupted, stepping into the room. “Is going on here?”

Logan gestured frustratedly at Roman. “He wants to take this survivor back with us tonight even though we don’t have the supplies to do so.”

Roman felt angry fire burn through his veins. “Have a heart, will you, Logan? He. Will. Die. We have to take him back tonight. He is injured and starving, and I am not going to just leave him here--completely alone, mind you--because you’re too set in your ways to even budge a little.” He turned to Patton, pleading. “I’ll keep him as my sole responsibility. No one else has to even think about him; I promise! Just let me take him with us. Please.”

“Well, Logan… I know that it’s not ideal, but Roman does make a good point.”

Logan glared at both of them. “Whatever. Fine. But you are taking care of him the whole way back, and you will be in charge of him at camp. He is not my responsibility, nor anyone else’s. Do you understand, Roman?”

“Yes! Oh, thank you so much. I promise that you won’t regret it.”

Roman may or may not have underestimated how much energy it would take to carry the survivor back to camp. Sure, he weighed maybe forty-five kilos, but that was a lot to carry for a twenty klick hike. The other soldiers were starting to get farther ahead, moving much faster. Logan would kick his ass if he got lost, but it wasn’t like he could ask for help. His stubborn nature had brought this upon himself, and he had to deal.

“Hey, Ro… Do you want a break? You look like you’re about to pass out,” Patton asked gently.

Roman nearly dropped the boy due to his shock. “God, Patton. Warn a guy next time.”

“Whoops, sorry, kiddo. Seriously, though. Let me take him for a while, okay? We don’t have to tell Logan.”

Before an argument could even form in his head, Patton had scooped the survivor into his arms. There wasn’t anything that Roman could say that would make Patton do anything else. The twenty-nine-year-old was the oldest and most successful in their sector. If it weren’t for rules, he probably would have made it into raid teams at sixteen. Patton was a six-four, two-hundred pound beast with intelligence to rival Logan, who was undisputedly the smartest person to ever join the rebellion. And Patton had a heart of gold, so he was a bit more stubborn than anyone else on the team when it came to helping.

Roman did appreciate it, though. He was actually able to chill out and look at the landscape. Their sector was surrounded by forest. They weren’t allowed to go out very far for fear of traps that had been set by the Saviors, so Roman hadn’t seen most of it, but he was able to see tons of flowers and plants that didn’t grow near their base. Little blue flowers grew along the sides of the path, and wild violets--Patton had pointed those out--were sprinkled around the ground further out into the foliage. If he wasn’t tied so strictly to the rules that he was already technically breaking, Roman would have been eager to run out and be among the nature.

But he didn't. He just fell into step with Patton, and they idly chatted until they were back at the base.

Virgil… couldn’t feel his arm. He tried to think if he’d fallen asleep on it, or maybe Raleigh or Sel accidentally did, but his last memories were fuzzy at best. His eyes cracked open slightly, and he was met with bright, white light, which was even more strange than not being able to feel his arm. Prisoners were always woken up before being brought outside to watch the executions, so why…?

Wait, where the hell was he?

Virgil sat up lightning fast. He raked his eyes around his surroundings and saw absolutely nothing familiar. A weird, clear snake-thing and bag of liquid was hooked into his arm--oh, shit, was he going to die?--and he was on a soft table of some sort with a scratchy piece of cloth draped over him. Someone he didn’t recognize was slumped in a chair--is that what a chair is???--in a corner asleep. There was a huge window on one of the walls, and a crate-like thing below it with a few metal things on it.

And his right arm was just fucking gone. Just not there. His right shoulder now ended up in a stump. He had lost his arm.

Holy shit, he had no idea where he was, and his arm had been cut off.

Breaths were coming in short, wheezing patterns, but Virgil was completely unable to calm himself. Who wouldn’t flip the fuck out when they woke up in a weird room and missing a fucking appendage? Tears welled up in his eyes as his brain raced through the possibilities. The guy in the corner seemed unarmed. If he could find something sharp, he might be able to escape and find out what the hell was going on.

As quietly as one having a panic attack could, Virgil slipped off the bed and ripped out the snake that had been inserted into his arm for mobility. He attempted to compose himself--and admittedly failed--as he stalked over to the crates under the window. After a few minutes of poking around, he found exactly what he was looking for. A sharp, pointy metal stick had been sitting on a tray of other equally sharp and pointy sticks inside the crate. Carefully, Virgil picked it up, holding it tightly by the handle. Now, to--

“Oh! You’re awake. Hello!”

Virgil spun around violently, swinging out his arm in an attempt to maim the person behind him. The stick pointed out in front of him as he stared, chest heaving, at the man. He was the one who had been asleep in the chair just moments prior. He looked afraid. Good.

“Um, if you would please put that scalpel down, sir…” He spoke too well. He had to be one of those awful doctors that the other captives whispered about when one of them was taken away and never seen again. Virgil swung his arm again, but the man jumped backwards just as fast. “Woah! Stop! Dude, please, I just want to ask some questions so that I can figure some things out about the Saviors.”

There was a second of hesitation, but Virgil lunged this time, throwing the stick to the side and using his hands to claw at the man. Well, he tried to do that. Within a second, Virgil was pinned to the ground with a knee resting just between his shoulders.

“Can you please calm down? I’ll explain everything if you’d just stop trying to kill me.”

Virgil hissed. “Go fuck yourself.”

“I--Wow! That’s extremely rude, you know, to say for someone who saved you from that dreadful Savior warehouse and almost single-handedly carried you twenty klicks back to our base.”

“Motherfu--wait, what?”

The man huffed. “Honestly, what does it take for a valiant soldier to get some recognition around here? I find the one survivor in the whole facility, and I’m almost told to just leave him there to die. However, I fight for this survivor and convince my hardened leader to allow me to bring him back with us. I stay with him day and night for the next two weeks as he fights off a nasty infection and a coma, and then this happens! He tries to kill me! How absolutely rude is that?”

“One survivor?” Virgil processed what he’d heard. “Oh my god…” Raleigh and Sel were dead. They were actually dead. Not only was he in a place that he was completely unfamiliar with, his only friends were fucking dead.

“Yes. It was absolutely devestating--”

“Get the hell off me.”

“Wha--”

“Get. Off.” The pressure on his back immediately lessened, and he could see that the man slumped against the crates next to him. Virgil pushed himself into a sitting position and curled up, trying not to cry. He couldn’t show weakness. He didn’t want to be punished for crying.

“Did you… were those two people in the room with you your friends?”

Virgil couldn’t find his voice, so he nodded slightly, taking care to not make eye contact.

“I’m very sorry about that. From what I saw of the aftermath, they are responsible for your survival. They took most of the bullets, and you escaped with only one shot in your right arm. The wound did end up becoming heavily infected due to the lack of attention I was able to give it before our arrival here, and your arm needed to be amputated, but we are working on making you a prosthetic.”

“A… prosthetic?” Virgil flicked his eyes up in confusion.

“Yeah, a prosthetic.” The man said it as though it were obvious.

“Oh… Right.” He had no fucking idea what he was talking about.

The man didn’t comment on Virgil’s hesitation if he even noticed it at all (which, honestly, Virgil doubted because he seemed rather… unobservant). “Is it alright if I call the nurse to replace your IV? It’ll help you feel better.”

“Sure.”

“Alright. I’ll be back in a minute.” The man stood up and started to exit, but he paused at the door. “I forgot to ask. What’s your name?”

“Virgil.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Virgil. My name is Roman.”

It had been a few weeks since Virgil learned what scalpels and prosthetics and IVs were. He’d learned a lot of things during that time. As it turned out, being held captive since you were a toddler led to a lot of lost knowledge of the world. Virgil learned about beds and cabinets and spaghetti and so many other awesome things like swords. Giant, shiny, stabby pieces of fucking metal! It was amazing.

Not only that, but Virgil was making new friends. He’d met Patton and Logan, who Roman claimed to be his “best friends,” even though Logan seemed less than enthused to be categorized as such. Patton was a sweetheart, and he was the one who designed Virgil’s awesome prosthetic arm, and Logan was just really smart and calming. He liked them both.

Over the weeks, he spent the most time with Roman. The soldier had helped him heal, and he had even brought him out to watch training sessions a few times as entertainment. He’d sworn to secrecy not to tell another soul that this had happened, but Roman allowed Virgil to spar with him a few times, and they discovered that, due to his small size, Virgil was extremely agile.

“Hey, Virge. What are you thinking about?”

Virgil snapped out of his reminiscence. “What? Oh, sorry. I was just zoning out.”

“Good.” Roman grabbed his hands and pulled him out of the cot (Virgil’s own cot because he actually had his own room now). “I want to show you the roof!”

“Gods, Roman, I’ve already seen a roof. This isn’t some learning opportunity. You’re just being weird.”

“Hush and let me take you outside. The weather’s very nice, and neither Patton nor Logan are willing to come out with me.”

A smirk tugged at Virgil’s lips, and he teased, “Roman, I’m hurt. I can’t believe that I’m your last choice.”

Roman laughed and continued to drag him around the facility. “Whatever.”

When they entered the fresh air outside, Virgil felt so refreshed. He closed his eyes and inhaled the clean, cool air. That was something that he had never gotten used to--being able to go outside virtually whenever he wanted. It was incredible. He opened his eyes to take in the view--

“Roman, what’s that? Why is the sky like that?! What is going on?” Virgil pointed at the orange and pink sky and clung to his companion.

“What?” Roman held Virgil back, but he did look very confused. “Have you never seen a sunset before?”

“A what?!”

“A sunset. Between day and night, there are periods of time where the sun rises and sets. During that time, the sky turns different colors due to small particles of dust.” His gaze softened. “It’s nothing to worry about, Virge. I promise.”

“But--”

“Hey, how about we sit down and watch the sky. Nothing bad will happen, but if you truly start to feel upset, we’ll go back inside. Alright?”

Virgil looked into Roman’s eyes for a few moments. If he had learned anything since his emancipation from the Saviors, it was that Roman never broke a promise. “Okay.”

It wasn’t long before Virgil and Roman had both fallen asleep in a tiny pile on the roof in a puddle of silver moonlight.

#sanders sides fic #thomas sanders fic #prinxiety #m writes things #wow this got way longer than i originally planned and way angstier whoops #Anonymous

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thesilverdawns · 6 years ago

Text

The Man Named Lion (P6)

To whom it may concern, which would only ever really be the recipient of this letter:

As you may have already guessed the town is alight with activity with the constant and active dribble that is news from the northeastern front. How much of it is true I can scarcely say, but I pray for your safety all the same whenever I’ve the time.

The military has ever dared to even commission me to tailor some of their newer uniforms for them and I’ve accepted but a few, as I do not have the time nor energy to address every new recruit who demands his trousers be hemmed or made an inch or two smaller around the waist.

Naturally this leaves little time for proper prayer during the day, but you out of all these fresh-eyed mackerels would understand and not mind terribly.

Vsevolod smirked faintly as he held the slightly wrinkled letter directly above his face. He was far too comfortable to get out of his bed and he had finally had the entire barracks to himself. This side of it at least. Lev lay on his own bed with his feet sticking straight in the air and the upper half of him draped over the edge and upside down, flipping through a magazine (one Vsevolod cared not to mention.) The blood had to have been rushing to his head, but he seemed fine.

He read on.

Seeing that you are perhaps in dire need of some much more light hearted news, I am pleased to report that the rigid stalemate between the matriarch Zeenon and the smallest of the bunch, Chai, over the dish chair in the foyer is now over. They decided to sort out their differences amicably. Chai gets her chair and Zeenon has located a perch high above the bedroom on top of the armoire. I had to move some things around, but despite all, I am quite proud of them.

As per usual, the youngest Kazoo (and perhaps in the running for the largest) has been pestering Zeenon for play when she very much would prefer otherwise. This of course does little to stop him, until Cecile has had enough of his shenanigans and puts him in his place for a while once Kazoo decides to turn his attentions elsewhere.

Typically, the second eldest, Lev, who shares the name ‘lion’ with your companion and embodies more of the qualities of one in my opinion, consoles Kazoo with a session of lying in the sun thereafter.

Mayflower naturally prefers to remain on her own as she is extremely independent, but that does not stop her from the occasional grooming that she and Zeenon both enjoy with one another.

During the time I spent making all of those socks I packed for you and your friend, the cats made sure to assist in any way they possibly could by sitting in the box with the packaging paper and what have you. Apologies ahead of time for the copious amounts of cat hair that will have no doubt arrived with them.

Miss Lumi was right. Some of the socks were so covered in cat hair that Vsevolod could have peeled them off and made a new pair all on his own.

“Are you still reading that??” Lev asked aloud, pulling himself into an upright position at last.

Vsevolod had forgotten Lev was still there. He had been so quiet (save for the occasional whistle or giggle) while ogling the magazines he had managed to get a hold of.

He ignored him.

I cannot begin to imagine what it is that you are going through during your time at the front. War changes people, typically not for the better. But I’ve faith that you will remain intact for the most part. And if not then you are always more than welcome to return to my home to assist in many a craft I’ve been unable to tackle in recent times.

“Sevka!!!”

Please, when you respond to this letter, let me know if your lion-companion appreciated the small ear-like designs I put on his socks especially.

He needs to listen more than he does speak. I also know he will not bother to write his own letter out of sheer laziness.

The shadow of Lev’s hand came from behind the paper as he pushed it away from Vsevolod’s face. “You must have read the letter fifty times over by now. Why do you not write back already??”

Vsevolod swatted at him in annoyance with all the strength of a turtle who’d been placed on his shell upside down. So what if it WAS the fiftieth time he’d read it? He’d read it fifty MORE times if he felt like it.

“Do not look at me so like that.” Lev hovered directly over him, nearly laying on top of him. Only his elbows really kept him propped up somewhat.

“How am I supposed to look at you.”

“With deep, sensual longing in your eyes?”

Placing a hand on his chest Vsevolod pushed Lev off firmly (but gently) and sat up. “No.”

“Huh! Fine. Well I do not know about YOU, but I am getting HUNGRY.” Lev rolled onto his back and laid sprawled out beside him.

Vsevolod looked back at him, and then towards the nearby window. The weather outside was gloomy looking again. Not that it ever changed.

It had been two weeks and he never wanted to go back out there ever again.

Turning back to look at Lev again, he scowled. “Miss Lumi wanted to know how you liked the socks.”

Lev cringed and made a whining sound. “Warm, but peculiar. You know ,with the design. I am afraid to even ask. Ears do not belong on your feet and clearly these are not ear-warmers. So why are there ears on my feet?! And they are incredibly itchy!!!”

“She made them special for you.”

“WHY!?”

“I also had forgotten to ask her for bread. When I write her back, I will be sure to do so. The only thing I am unsure about is whether or not food sent through the mail would make it to us without becoming spoiled.”

“Yes, because molding bread as hard as a brick is what I want to carry with me at all times. Augh…” Lev clapped a hand to his stomach as it gurgled. “Let us go and have dinner ready… I am starving from a whole day of doing absolutely nothing.”

The ONLY good thing about being on base were the kitchens. Hot meals were being served all day long, and the camp itself was not lacking in supplies and other comforts the soldiers so desperately desired, and needed. Everyone had their turn. The troops would rotate out once they had rested up, and the next batch of demoralized souls would enter and rest, and so on.

“With how much you have been drooling over your obscene pictures I almost thought you would have eaten the pages.”

“Sevka when we arrive back in the city I VOW to find one such individual for you that you will indeed eat. And enjoy.”

“I am no cannibal.” He didn’t even wait for him and left Lev to grab his coat off a nearby coat rack.

“Your passion-less life has left your romantic tendencies absolutely RAVENOUS Sevka. Trust me!!! Now tell me what you like-”

Before either of them could leave the barracks for any kind of sustenance, one of the officers came jogging up to them, looking like he was in a hurry. In his hand he held a list. “Nevolin, Kuznetsov, you two signed up on the waiting list for the planes correct?” Vsevolod couldn’t help his eyes widening quickly at the sheer mention of the word ‘plane.’ But it was Lev who vocally jumped to that confirmation. “Yes!! That is us!” “Come with me. You are to be assigned to one immediately before we push from our position at the edge of the woods and make our way towards the beachfront.”

The two looked at each other as though the holiday season had come early. Though it did not come without a slight bit of queasiness.

“QUICKLY!” And without any further delay, the two raced after him, with their hearts no doubt racing in their chests.

Nevertheless, please write back whenever you are able to. Provided your heads are not soaring high above the clouds, carrying out Death’s work for him.

Though I suppose that would make for quite a fantastic tale to tell.

P.S. The paw prints at the bottom edge of this letter are from Kazoo. He wishes you well.

#the man named lion #gomen if i did not get these fluffernutters right #COULDNT THINK OF ANY CRAZY NAMES so just went with variations LO L #time to finaly put them in a plane #that means their little vacation is over unfortunately but now levs screeching WE GET TO BE HEEROOOSSS #cap is excited but also dreading

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tinywriter2018 · 7 years ago

Photo

For the Good of the Realm Part II

Word Count: 1424

Jon was sitting in the the Godwoods next to the stump that used to be a weirwood tree. Like his mother’s family, he preferred the old God’s to the new, though as a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms he was expected to show faith in the New. This place for him was his solace, he enjoyed the serenity he felt when he was here. A small direwolf was sleeping on top of his boot. The white fur moving up and down as he was in deep sleep. The Starks had brought their Direwolves pups that they had found down south with them. They had found the runt of the litter, and it was the youngest Stark girl who pointed out, that Jon was technically also a Stark, if only half by his mother.

“I was told I would find you here.” Jon turned his head to see Lord Stark. Jon stood up, but his pup did not stir. Jon had a feeling he was ignoring the world, something he wish he could do.

“My Lord.” he gave a slight bow in his head, but Ned shook his own.

“You are my family.” Ned came and sat next to him on the stones. He looked around at the surroundings. “You should see the Godwoods back in Winterfell. Untouched by man, it’s brilliant and beautiful, even when it snows, the woods are peaceful.”

“I would very much like to see.”

“I’ve asked the King if he would be leave of you to travel with us so you can see the North that my

daughter comes from. That your mother came from.” Jon reached down, picking up the direwolf.

“What was she like? The Queen doesn’t know much and my father never speaks of her.”

“She was fierce like the north. She could out ride us all on the horse. Lyanna was strong as she was beautiful.”

“She died when I was born.” Jon looked at the stump.

“I was there.” Jon looked at his Uncle surprised. “She was a fighter till the end. Your father had snuck into the encampment to find my tent the night before the battle. He told me everything, brought me to my sister. By the time the battle of the Trident was to take place, Jaime Lannister had already killed Aerys and my sister was lost to us. There was no reason to continue on with the fighting. Robert knew that, once I joined Rhaegar on the field.”

“Robert loved my mother?”

“He said he did, but I think he just felt like he lost the one thing he was always supposed to have.” Ned placed a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “In time, the wounds healed and life went on.”

“I’m afraid some wounds last longer than the should.”

“You have the Stark honor in you.” Jon smiled, looking at the direwolf. The red eyes blinking open, to see what was happening.

“I am trying to do right by her.”

“Sansa is a tricky child. She has more North in her than I think anyone believes.” Ned stood up, looking out at the ocean. “You and I have something in common, other than our blood.”

“How so?”

“I was never supposed to marry Catelyn. My brother Brandon was her betrothed. But once the Mad King killed my brother, our marriage was arranged for the war to come. Love wasn’t the foundation of our marriage, but it is there now. I love my wife with everything in me. As I know she does me as well. Having your first born brings you closer together.” Jon nodded, standing up next to his uncle. The conversation quickly turned to other matters, as they walked back up to the Red Keep.

Jon followed ghost down once more to the Godswoods. His mind wandering to the journey before them. His father had informed him of his brother’s soon return to King's Landing and for the sake of his wife, the northerners and their pride, Jon agreed to leave King's Landing to return to the north, to Winterfell, in order to spare any harm. Jon has always wanted to go north, see his mother’s maiden home, but he never wanted to go under these circumstances. He ran into Ghost who had stopped walking. The white direwolf, laid down, his red eyes looking at the female direwolf in front of him. Jon knew the direwolf, it was his lady wifes. Sansa sat still looking out at the ocean. Jon slowly began to walk towards her, taking a seat next to her.

“We are to leave?” She asked, but her tone meant she knew what he was going to say.

“Tomorrow, after the morning meal.”

“Aegon is returning isn’t he?”

“He is.” Jon wished he could lie to her, but he couldn’t. Ever since he was a child, he could never lie to a woman. Queen Elia said it would make him a great knight. They sat in silence for a while, the sound of their direwolves lightly playing. Mostly Ghost seemingly trying to impress Lady, but she remained unmoving.

“All I wanted when I was young was to marry Aegon, give him little princes and princesses and be his queen. Be there for him.”

“All I wanted was to be the Lord Commander of the King’s guard, protect him from harm, protect my family.” Sansa gave a soft smile.

“Aegon hurt us both.” Sansa looked at Jon for the first time since he sat down.

“In truth, I’ve always wanted a marriage like the one my parents have. One of trust and love. I thought Aegon was the way to that dream, but he isn’t anymore.” Sansa paused, her eyes darting to her hands, her hair falling in front of her face. “Do you think you could love me?” Jon gave a soft smile, his eyes finding hers.

“I think I could.” Jon moved a piece of hair behind her head. “Do you think you could forget him, in your heart?”

“I’ve already started.” Sansa smiled at her lord husband, the setting sun, casting a beautiful light over his strong features. She could learn to love that face, for the rest of her days and she knew it.

“Keep your shield up.” Jon said said to Rickon Stark. He nodded, the boy was coming into his own as a young man. Rickon was a wild fighter, but one that learns quickly. Lord Eddard Stark watched with his own son, Robb Stark from the side.

“He’s still a skilled fighter even after all this time.” It had been twenty-six moons turns since Jon came north with the Starks. Taking up the Master of Arms position until they could find a replacement, since they had lost theirs on the travel home.

“He's a good teacher and a good fighter.” They were all laughing as Rickon suddenly stumbled in the mud, his laugh echoing throughout the courtyard. Suddenly Ghost appeared, his bark shattering the peace. Ghost was not prone to bark, at all unless it was of dire trouble.

“Wasn’t he with Sansa and Mother?” Robb asked Jon. All four men quickly followed the white blur into the Godswoods, where Sansa was clutching her stomach. Her mother trying to calm her. Lady was sitting patiently next to her, trying to give her comfort.

“We need a maester!” Catelyn yelled, her smile wide.

“It hurts!” Sansa screamed. Jon rushed over to her, quickly picking her up.

“Don’t just stand there! The Baby is coming! Jon we need to get her inside.” Catelyn quickly took control as Rickon ran back to the castle walls to call maester Luwin.

“Mother!” She yelled gripping her hand.

“Don’t worry, it will be over soon!” Her mother was so happy, Robb helped Jon carry her back inside.

“Jon!”

“I’m here wife.” She pulled on the back of his hair, her strength stronger than he thought.

“Don’t leave.” He smiled, helping her to the closest bed.

“It’s not proper for the father to be-” Robb started, before Sansa hit him. Lady growled from the corner, her direwolf freighting him.

“Than you get out!” She let out another scream gripping Jon’s hand tightly. She looked at him, scared. “It hurts, it hurts so much.”

“I know, you're doing great!” Jon stated. Catelyn joined her on her other side, brushing her daughter’s hair out of her sweat covered face.

“Your going to be a mother soon.” Sansa began to cry through the pain. She turned to Jon, her smile big.

“I love you husband.” She whispered.

“I love you wife.”

Masterlist

#tinywriter2018 #Jonsa #Jon X Sansa #Jon snow x Sansa Stark #Jon Targaryen x Sansa Stark #jon targaryen #Sansa Stark #I do not own gifs

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terrahistorian · 6 years ago

Note

TELL ME ABOUT JAX'S BACKSTORY :D

Okay, so, this might get a bit long. Jax is one of the most funcharacters I’ve played in D&D in years, and his story has takena lot of turns I didn’t expect, as the best ones always do. Thefinal draft of his backstory was born from several conversationsafter the game began, ways of integrating his story into what we weredoing, and giving him a personal stake, without redefining him.

JX-195 is a 6 year old Construct that killed his creator.

His first memory was of looking out from a pane of glass, floatingin this strange, viscous fluid. After many tests were done on him toconfirm he’d survive his, “Birth,” he was taken out of thechamber, and given his designation, JX-195. The Archmage who createdhim was never given a name, simply being referred to as, “MyCreator.” JX-195 was but the latest in a string of experiments,constructs made using different parts, different methods, differentarcane tricks, all in the hopes of reaching, in a sense, godhood.Creating life from nothing. In order to blend the organic andinorganic parts in JX-195′s creation, the Archmage developed avariation of the Mending spell, transcribed as runic tattoos alongall of his joints. This kept his flesh from rejecting the densermaterials comprising most of his skeleton, but had an unforeseenconsequence; every wound JX-195 received scarred rapidly. Overtime,he’d be more wound than flesh.

JX-195 was a failure. Through teaching him how to read, write, anddispatch of some of his lesser, “Siblings,” his creatorlearned that while JX-195 was an impressive machine, he had noemotions to speak of. No drives, no sorrows, no joys, he simply didas he was told. The archmage saw JX-195 as a blemish on his work,something to be wiped away quickly and thoroughly. JX-195 disagreed.So he took a surgical knife, and stabbed his creator in the backuntil he stopped twitching.

Taking the clothes on his back, the coins he’d been told hadvalue, and his creator’s hidden research notes on his construction,JX-195 set out to see what was out there in this grand world that hadbeen kept from him. He soon learned, however, that his creator wasnot the only foul being out there. In fact, he was nothing if not thenorm.

Beaten, bloodied, his coin stolen, barely holding ontothe, “Meaningless gibberish,” that were the tomes of hisbirth, JX-195 was found by a seemingly generous man. He offered warmmeals, a roof overhead, and work that involved travel and delightsbeyond imagining. He was a slaver, and appealed to JX-195′s baseneeds. Which, technically, were met, and JX-195 understood his placein the world. While there, he was branded across his right eye, andmarked as property of The Matron.

One night, bandits came. Freedom fighters, slaughtering themasters and freeing their slaves. Their leader, Cre’en, an old,jaded, cynical man, who was in it more for revenge than freedom, sawthat JX-195 had nowhere to go, and asked if he wanted to join him fora bit. Thus, JX-195 joined forces with The Wanderer, who gave him hisfirst proper name. Jax. Jax traveled with Cre’en for a year,far longer than most who stayed with him, and was taught how toprotect himself, and how to live among, “Normal, not crazy,slavin’, ass people.” Then, one night, Jax had his first dream.

A crossroads, his first real choice. Down one path, ease, andsolitude, a measure of peace, but ultimately a death and destructionthat shatters the heavens. Down the other, strife, battle, sorrow,but ultimately survival and peace. Along the second path strode threesilhouettes, under the marker of a town not too far from where Cre’enhad made camp. But above both paths, two warriors in gleaming sets ofarmor, beautiful, beguiling, and deadly, to any in their path. And onone warrior, Jax recognized a silken cloak, that had played a part inhis creation.

That night, Jax packed what supplies Cre’en had given him, andleft without a word. Making the short journey to the town in hisdream, it wasn’t long before Jax was found by those threesilhouettes. Mordai, the Tiefling, and defacto leader of this motleycrew. Sparky, the Ifrit, who was literally only there because agolden pineapple he stole told him to. (It was actually Mordaithrowing his voice to make it seem like the pineapple was talking. Atleast, at first) And finally Eren, an Elven cleric who always seemedjust a bit miffed that her god had forced her to work with the othertwo. They had also received dreams from various gods to find eachother, and hunt these two sets of armor. We later learned that theywere called the Greyguard and Paladin sets, eons old artifacts ofHoly Grail level of power and obscurity. Jax lead the way to thefirst piece of armor they’d collected, the cloak he’d recognizedin his dream, and bought his way into the group.

Some time later, the party found another piece, a brass bottlewith a cork topper, in a clearing without any hint of wildlife. Withthe usual stupid bravado of adventurers, we opened it, and a plume ofpurple smoke erupted from the bottle. Rising up out of it, a form farbeyond the size of the bottle itself, a creature of flame, smoke, andmagma rose up to it full height; an Efreeti stood before us, a FireDjinn.

Now, it’s important to note that my DM likes to leave as much tochance as physically possible. She plans a lot, but it’s largelybased on rolls, so twists are as much as a surprise to her as theyare to us. This bottle was no exception. As soon as the bottleopened, she rolled a percentile die. There was a 10% chance that theEfreeti would come out enraged, most likely killing us all. An 80%chance that it would do our bidding for an hour, then disappear. Andfinally, a measly 10% chance that it would arrive magnanimous,offering us three Wishes.

Her dice either hate her, love us, or some sick mixture of thetwo, because the Efreeti bellowed out in Ignan, “What are yourwishes?”

Two game breaking wishes later, that our DM is still pissed offabout, our party was trying to figure out what to do with the finalone. I mean, it’s a Wish, they can’t just be wasted on limitlesscoin and a fast travel system (Oh wait, we already did those). So, mylittle soulless self piped up, “Humanity. I want humanity.”

After some convincing, Mordai, the one who opened the bottle andhad to word the wish, started rattling off a list of, “I wishfor a soul that is kind, just, loyal, brave, trustw-”

The Efreeti cut him off by simply saying, “You cannot havea soul that is all good,” before a glowing orb of color appeared inhis hand, he rammed it into my chest, and disappeared as Jax fellunconscious onto the grass.

That day, Jax had his second dream. He was in a dark void, litonly by the six figures in front of him. They were all differentsouls the Efreeti owned, either by trade or force, and one was to beJax’s. They were of different races, genders, heights. Drow,Dwarves, Humans, and on the very end, a 6 foot tall Dire Pigeon. Ithink that’s the one my DM was hoping I’d get. One roll later, Igot the soul of Yeska Kreskoff, a human cleric, and inadvertentlyestablished Russia as some part of this fantasy world.

This started an arc where Jax struggled to understand threethings. First, his newfound feeling, both emotional and tactile.Second, the lingering consciousness of a tortured and insane Yeska,who began trying to take over Jax’s body to reclaim his life.Eventually, Jax had to beat down and kill Yeska’s consciousness,during a particularly vivid dream. This freed both Yeska and Jax, asJax claimed his soul as his own, and Yeska finally found peace withRoe. And finally third, Jax worked to understand the connection henow found with Yeska’s god, Roe. It turns out that Roe was the onethat sent Jax his first dream, which pointed him down the path offreeing one of his acolytes, and eventually stopping whatevercataclysm is connected to these armors.

So, Jax multiclassed from Fighter into Cleric, as a way to bothatone and thank Yeska and Roe for their sacrifices in freeing Jax.And that choice has been a lot of fun, and I’m really proud thatwas able to give my GM pause with one of the questions I posed Roeduring a communion with him. It had been a few months, and I simplyasked, “Are you pleased with how I’ve grown with this soul?”

It took her a few minutes to answer, but it’s stuck with me eversince. “It’s... Not about me. Am I happy? Yes, absolutely.But all of this is for you, and your growth, and your learning. Whatmatters here, and what I hope you remember, is that you’re not mypawn. You’re not a toy for me to tire of and set aside. I thinkthere are good things we can do together, and ways I can help you,but it has always been, and will remain, about you and your newfoundhappiness. So, if I may ask you a question. Are you happy?”

I ended that communion with a quiet, “Yes.”

Sadly, that was the last truly happy memory Jax has. Since then, him and his party have been collecting more and more of the Armor, and now they have completed both sets. Utilizing their power, the sets have been split among the party, and just recently we’ve let individuals wear a full set. Jax, specifically, has been wearing the Greyguard set. The Alignmentally Evil set. Each set has a consciousness connected to it, and a desire to be used for their own purposes, and the Greyguard has been patient with Jax. The longer he’s worn it, the less he sleeps, the more he depends on the armor, and the more open he is to death. At one point, Jax even contacted the Greyguard’s steed, an Ancient Black Dragon named Dryn, and struck a deal with him. Knowledge for power. I told Dryn all of our plans, everything we had done, and in return he allowed Jax to cast Power Word Kill once a day so long as he wears the full set of Greyguard armor, whose continued use is fraying what stability Jax has left.

Jax has never known peace. His six years have been nothing but imprisonment, battle, slavery, harsh travels, and feeling as though he’s a hacky sack for the gods. But I doubt that’s how his story will end. I suspect something with books, maybe a library. He hasn’t found his happy ending, but his story isn’t done yet. And I think that’s all any of us can say.

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deckspair · 5 years ago

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There isn’t a way to phrase this one without giving it away | Ukiyo-maemi | Ritual 3.8 | RE: Junshu, Akira

‘Post-trial plans’ indeed. Ukiyo-maemi is surprised by the amount of productivity, the amount of upheaval that goes on in the wake of the tragedy-that-must-not-enter-her-mind, before the robots even rear their corrupted heads with a new directive. Her hands grip the edges of her sleeves as she tries and tries to see the good in Junshu’s plan, but the only thing it has in common with goodness is its intention.

Its intention! She can lock onto that.

“Junshu-genko, I…understand that we are in dire need of leadership, and would even admit that you would be among my top five candidates if it came to a vote…” No, there are barely twice that left, it doesn’t sound like the compliment she was going for— “…top three. I have never much understood voting anyway, elected officials…are prone to the same flaws as the very people who place them in power. But in any case, your plan…what is stopping one member of a duo from murdering another, or two allies teaming up to do the same and frame the victim’s living partner? Perhaps they will be swiftly caught, but then you have caused two deaths instead of one…”

She sighs, part of her berating herself for falling into criticism all over again even as the other part crows its validity. “I am sorry…it does sound like a good idea, at least in principle, but I fear there are some knots to work out. No doubt we will be shooed out of this room soon, so I propose we all discuss it in more depth later?”

She has had her eyes on Akira this whole time, on and off, since she started looking up at all. What act of kindness was she going to pull out of what seemed like nowhere this time, and this time, would it finally be one Ukiyo-maemi deserved to partake in as well?

Oh, banish the thought. The answer is no, and it’s the worst possible thing, and she wishes she could just say something but it’s the rules—

“And you, Akatsuki-akira, please…do not take me the wrong way, when I say that your generosity will only hurt you. You speak of being unable to afford proper meals for those you wish to feed, even as an eventuality…does that mean you would starve yourself as well?” She is not, she cannot be feeling this right now, but it gnaws at her chest all the more when she tries to put it into words without saying it.

“If anyone is capable of feeding the starving—” A pointed glance at SpiderBot, she begins to mouth the word ‘stabbi-‘ but decides that’s too much, that she still isn’t quite sure the signal means what she thinks it does, “And if it is anyone’s duty to feed the starving, that person is me. I do not wish to be the ambassador of false promises, who speaks of glory in the next life without caring about this one, so I also volunteer to provide food to those who need it. I shall provide more details later…and, if you wish, perhaps Akatsuki-akira and I can combine our resources into something neither of us could provide alone.”

#chapter 3 #trial 3 #ukiyo-maemi #submission

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lazyupdates · 7 years ago

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Priyanka Chopra is the Goodwill Ambassador of UNICEF for Child Rights and the global icon seems to be taking on the responsibility upfront. Priyanka is known for her philanthropic activities as much as she is known for her performances on screen. The actress recently visited one of the largest refugee camps in the world in Bangladesh. The camp consists of displaced Rohingya’s who are debarred from the basic right of belonging to a land. Priyanka posted several pictures on her social media giving glimpses of her time spent among young boys and girls there. The actress was also seen interacting with toddlers whose future is in jeopardy. The actress was clicked embracing the children there with open arms and even feeding infants with necessary food. Here is a compiled list of all the moments PeeCee had at the Rohingya refugee camp. Take a look…

I was quite literally knocked off my feet…a spontaneous, unfiltered moment with these amazing kids, who I spent a couple of hours with laughing and learning. It was as if for those few hours we all forgot where we were, and let ourselves be kids again (me included). One of the last stops on my field visit was at a @unicef Learning Center in the Balukhali Camp. Here, children are given a basic education of math, English, and Burmese through a colorful and engaging curriculum of song, drama, role playing. The age of the children in this classroom ranges between 7-10 years old, and for many of these kids this is their first school experience. There are over 400,000 children at these camps, but currently only 1/3 have access to education because of the lack of space and teachers. Given everything these kids have been through, their was no shortage of excitement or hope when I asked the kids what they wanted to be when they grow up. Whether it be a journalist, doctor, school teacher, or in the military, receiving an education means they’re getting a chance to create the future they aspire for themselves. The children are also taught basic hygiene, which is very important in a camp such as this, because of wide spread diseases like cholera and watery diarrhoea. Basics, like how to properly wash your hands, has actually helped to significantly reduce illnesses, and what’s amazing is that these kids go home and teach their parents and siblings the good health practices they’ve learned. Its initiatives like this that are setting these kids up for a brighter future. As I sit amongst them, singing along, the lyrics have more meaning than ever… “deep in my heart, I still believe, we shall overcome one day! .” I know they will. For those who’ve asked how they can contribute, here’s the answer… help every child get an education by logging on to www.supportunicef.org #childrenuprooted @unicef @unicefbangladesh

A post shared by Priyanka Chopra (@priyankachopra) on May 24, 2018 at 2:22am PDT

As I walk into the Women Friendly Space at the Jamtoli Camp, I am instantly struck by a certain calmness. These camps are loud & crowded, actually overcrowded, and so to find a quiet oasis, in this case a small hut with a tarp roof and thatched bamboo walls, is surprising. But for the girls in this camp, this is what they call their “house of peace.” It’s a place they can come and just be. A place to interact with friends, seek counselling, learn about hygiene, or learn life skills like art and music. There are approx 50 Women Friendly Spaces in the camps, just like this one, that on any given day see 50-70 Rohingya girls seeking these safe havens. The centers open at 9am, but there is seldom a day when the women aren’t lined up early, waiting for the doors to open. It is here that I met three 18 year old young women, in particular, who’s stories really shook me – their names have been omitted to protect their identities. They recounted lives of pain and suffering so horrifying…it’s difficult to fathom. One scarred with memories of houses in her village being burned – she and her parents traveled for two days to get here, passing hundreds of decapitated and dismembered bodies along the way. Another shared stories of young girls being pulled from their homes to be raped and tortured. They even tried to kill her and cut her with a knife, but she fought back. How did you manage to be so brave, I asked her…she replied, “If you’re born you will die, so I’m not scared of dying today.” In what world is it normal for an 18 year old girl to have this perspective on life?! The third young woman traveled for nearly two weeks on foot through the forest, where her youngest brother died along the way. There was lots of rape and torture back home she told me, and some women’s breasts were even cut off. While their lives are safer now, they are all still struggling. They know that with an education they can get a job and create better lives for their family, like buying protein for their meals, and clean drinking water. It’s literally as basic as that. Please help however you can, no donation is too small…go to www.supportunicef.org #childrenuprooted @unicef

A post shared by Priyanka Chopra (@priyankachopra) on May 23, 2018 at 11:37am PDT

When Mansur Ali, 12 yrs old, first came to the Child Friendly Space (CFS) at the Balukhali camp, he was only drawing scenes of bloodshed and violence. Helicopters shooting at him and his friends playing soccer… or his village and home being on fire with burning bodies all around him.. Today, his drawings reflect a more hopeful story, one we would like all these children to have. Since the #Rohingya children have arrived in Cox’s Bazar, they have been living in overcrowded camps with no real place that to call their own. Imagine a space that lets you forget your troubles and be a child again… even if its only for just a few hours a day. For the Rohingya children, over 300,000, in the camps in Bangladesh this is the only space that allows them to be kids. These Child Friendly Spaces created by @unicef give kids access to art, music, dance, sport, and counselling etc. The space has often proved to be very therapeutic, helping these kids deal with the horrific situations they faced.. the @unicef aid workers work tirelessly to make sure these children find their spirit again. It doesn’t matter where a child is from or what his or her circumstances are… NO child deserves a life without hope for the future. The world needs to care. We need to care. Please lend your support at www.supportunicef.org #childrenuprooted @unicef @unicefbangladesh

A post shared by Priyanka Chopra (@priyankachopra) on May 22, 2018 at 6:54am PDT

Across the river is Myanmar(Burma.) It’s empty now, but a few months ago this area, known as “Sabrang,” was filled with hundreds of thousands of Rohingya refugees fleeing Myanmar. Their trip here was filled with many hardships and tremendous danger. Many of them made their journey on foot, walking for days through the hills, then floating across the Naf River or the Bay of Bengal on make shift boats…many of them injured, pregnant, elderly, etc. Their ordeal didn’t end here…after entering Bangladesh, they would often have to wait for days, sleeping in the open fields with no food or water, for aid workers to reach them. For a lot of the Rohingya children, this ordeal will leave them scarred, physically and emotionally, for the rest of their lives. With your help, maybe these children can have a chance at a future…because right now, their future is bleak. The world needs to care. We need to care. Please lend your support at www.supportunicef.org #ChildrenUprooted @unicef @unicefbangladesh

A post shared by Priyanka Chopra (@priyankachopra) on May 22, 2018 at 3:30am PDT

I’m in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh today for a field visit with UNICEF, to one of the largest refugee camps in the world. In the second half of 2017, the world saw horrific images of ethnic cleansing from the Rakhine State of Myanmar(Burma). This violence drove nearly 700,000 Rohingya across the border into Bangladesh – 60% are children! Many months later they are still highly vulnerable, living in overcrowded camps with no idea when or where they will ever belong…even worse, when they will get their next meal. AND…as they finally start to settle and feel a sense of safety, monsoon season looms…threatening to destroy all that they’ve built so far. This is an entire generation of children that have no future in sight. Through their smiles I could see the vacancy in their eyes. These children are at the forefront of this humanitarian crisis, and they desperately need our help. The world needs to care. We need to care. These kids are our future. Pls Lend your support at www.supportunicef.org #ChildrenUprooted @unicef @unicefbangladesh Credit: @briansokol @hhhtravels

A post shared by Priyanka Chopra (@priyankachopra) on May 21, 2018 at 6:27am PDT

This is little Shohida (8 months old), who stole my heart with her infectious smile. It’s a poignant reminder of the dichotomy of life…here she was getting all the help she needed, when just a few months before, her mother, Alada (who was only 19 years old at the time) walked for 15 days, while 6 months pregnant with her ,to get across the border. It shows us that there is hope left in this world. When you’re dealing with a mass exodus of thousands of people, who have been displaced from their homes and are desperate for refuge, the need for proper health and nutrition takes center stage…especially for women and children. On the various Unicef Field Visits I have taken, I am always surprised by the simple yet effective solutions that @unicef and their partners develop to deal with the most dire and pressing situations and issues. This is something I experienced again today during my visit to the Nutrition Centre at the Jamtoli camp in Cox’s Bazar. More than 60,000 babies have been born in the camps over the past 8 months, so this center is an essential resource for new mothers to learn about proper feeding and nutrition. It all begins with the MUAC, a process where the child’s middle upper arm is measured to ascertain their nutrition level. From there, aids create a program for the child and a nutrient rich, ready-to-eat peanut paste is portioned out for each child based on the severity of malnutrition. At the Center mother’s are also taught basic hygiene and good health practices when they are in their homes. The world needs to care. We need to care. Please lend your support at www.supportunicef.org #childrenuprooted @unicef @unicefbangladesh

A post shared by Priyanka Chopra (@priyankachopra) on May 23, 2018 at 12:32pm PDT

The post In pictures Priyanka Chopra visits a refugee camp in Bangladesh appeared first on Lazy Updates.

#lazy #lazy updates #Updates #trending #news #bollywood #recipes #entertainment

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jaidenrlmc33housecleaning4-blog · 8 years ago

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5 Easy Facts About House Cleaning Rates Dublin Described

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Guest Post: Tips On How To Keep A Pet - Friendly Home Clean http://wp.me/p6H6L6-8QK - Everyday Shortcuts (@EvrydayShortcut) May 8, 2017

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#dublin apartment cleaner

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