#i feel like she's the only muse (outside of jemma) that would actually like them

[fyrewalks]

october prompts - 04. exotic

One of the older ladies at church, who doted upon Nat as if she was her grandchild, had an orange cockatoo that Nat absolutely adored. At one point, Nat wanted to be an exotic animal vet because of it, but she quickly moved on from that dream once she learned how violent these birds could be if not given the proper care. She was actually scared of it for a while, though she eventually got over it and even now, as an adult, Nat has a soft spot for the animal.

[besidemethewholedamntime]

Hi!! FS + “Don’t sell yourself short.”

helloooooo! here we go! This was very good to write and I enjoyed it like A Lot. It’s a historical AU because I cannot help myself (which is the reason why I enjoyed writing it. Love it when the muse takes over.) Anyways, I hope it’s alright and I hope you like it! 

this is how the story went

{Read on Ao3)

It’s raining on the day he leaves.

Great fat water droplets pelt down from the skies,leaving everyone sodding wet the moment they step outside. Jemma hasn’t broughta coat with her, she hadn’t thought about it; it was only overcast when theywere walking. The moment they got to the station the heavens opened, and she canhear the water making the most horrendous noise on the metal roof.

The platform is packed. No matter where she looks shesees people like her, people saying goodbye. Some are crying already. Sherefuses to do so. No crying until he leaves, she has told herself for days now.Nothing to make him feel bad for going away, even though she’d sell her kidney tomake it so that he could stay.

“Well, I suppose I should get on then. Get myself agood seat and all that.”

She looks up at Fitz, who stands rather awkwardly amongstthis display of emotion. As much as she hates to admit it, he does look smartin his Army uniform. It makes him seem older and for a moment she feels like asilly little girl, about to be left behind. But then the light moves, shadowsshift, and he looks more like a boy playing dress up than anything else.

This ache in her heart will only intensify. She mustprepare herself for it now.

“The train leaves in ten minutes,” she tells him. “Allof the good seats will already be gone.”

He smiles that half-crooked grin. The ache grows. Oh,she’s going to miss him so much. “Suppose you’ve got a point there. Might aswell spent it here, with you.”

His mother didn’t come to see him off. She said itwould be too painful. Jemma hadn’t understood: how could she not want to bewith him to the very last moment? Now, maybe, she gets it. Better to leave itwith a hug, a private moment in the kitchen, rather than share it witheverybody else.

“I do have some smart ideas.” She smiles at him, or asmuch as she can manage anyway.

“You should go to university, with that brain ofyours.”

This brain of hers indeed. Jemma thinks of theabandoned books that she hasn’t touched since the moment war was declared. Herplans are on hold for the indefinite future. She cannot, in good conscience, pretendlike her future plans are still the same, when her best-friend is being sent tofight the enemy. To do what they both planned without him by her side is toomuch to bear.

“Let’s just see what the future holds, mm?”

Panic suddenly grips Fitz’s features, grips her ownheart, too. What is it? What has she said? Mention of the future? Neither ofthem are so naïve to pretend as though there’s still such a guaranteed thing astomorrow.

“What if I’m no good at it, Jemma? What if I get senthome because I’m such a disgrace? Worthless to the country in its darkest hour?”

What a funny thing to want to excel at, war. Her Fitzwants to excel at building a machine that could make the washing easier for hismum. However, she understands (or so she tells herself) that in order to haveany hope to survive this, her Fitz must disappear for a while.  He has to become someone else, in order to beable to be who he is when this is all over.

“That’s your father talking,” she tells him, voicequiet but stern. Jemma will not let Alastair Fitz dictate his life anymore. “We’llhave none of that, thank you very much. Don’t sell yourself short, alright?” Shetakes his hand, uncaring of what people may think. “You’re amazing ateverything you try. This will be no different.”

“Thank you,” he tells her, tears in his eyes. He wantsto go no more than she wants him to go, but he will do what he must. He hasalways done what he must. “Besides, I won’t be away for very long. ‘Over byChristmas’ isn’t that what they said the last time? Maybe this time it’ll workout like that.”

Jemma remembers the stories, too, of her parents andgrandparents telling of a war that was supposed to be over long before itactually ended. She thinks, too, of the newsreels at the cinema, showing AdolfHitler marching about all over Europe, trying to take over the world.

Still, she sees no need in voicing what they’re bothaware of. “Yes,” she tells him instead, managing a watery smile. “Perhaps.”

The rain picks up, battering down on the roof. If it cavedin and flooded the line, would he still have to go? Would he be able to stay,instead? Can the rain make it so there is no war but only happiness, andhusbands can go back to their wives and Jemma and Fitz can go back to theirbooks? Can the rain do that?

The roof does not cave in and the guard blows hiswhistle. People reluctantly begin to move towards the train. Fitz stays wherehe is, looking at it with trepidation.

“You’ll be fine, Fitz,” she says earnestly. “Ipromise.”

He nods, swallowing. The platform is emptying alittle. They will notice if he is the only one left.

“Will you be alright, you know, getting back in weatherlike that?”

Jemma thinks of walking in it, freezing dropletsthundering onto her skin in her light blouse and skirt. She thinks of how shewill not feel it because, even at this very moment, she is growing numb. Thisis the only way she will survive this. To not worry. To not feel.

“Yes, yes. I’ll be alright.” She looks around thealmost empty platform. “I think you have to go now.”

“Yeah, I think I do.” He shoulders his duffle bag, and,after only a second of hesitation, grabs her in for a fierce hug.

“You will write, won’t you?” He asks into her hair.

“Of course I will,” she promises him, voice thick withtears she cannot let fall just yet. She taps him gently on the back. “Come on. Timeto go.”

He lets go of her reluctantly and walks towards thecarriage, getting on just before the door is shut. He manages to get to a window,squeeze into a spot beside everybody else who’s leaning out. She isn’t able torun up to the window like those other girls. She is only able to get throughthis if she stands exactly where she is.

“Bye, Simmons!” He shouts over the din.

“Goodbye, Fitz.” It’s too loud for him to hear, hervoice too thick to be clear, but he sees her lips moving and nods hisacknowledgement.

The train begins to move, she almost misses the soundfor the rain and her own heart breaking in two. It gathers speed. Fitz smiles alittle sadly, raises his hand in a half wave, and then is gone.

It takes her a moment to begin to move, limbs feelinguseless and heavy. As soon as she leaves here then it’s real. He’s gone off tofight and she’s been left behind. This is now how they work. They are by eachother’s side all of the time. To be without him now… it’s too much to thinkabout.

Somehow she makes it outside. The sky is a dark grey,the heavens are still open. The raindrops pelt at her unfeeling arms as shewraps them tightly around herself. With the memory of his arms around her, shebegins the long walk home, the salty tears on her face mixing with the tears ofthe sky.

[elesmuseshub]

mobile about pages/bios:

canon divergent/AU princess Emma and dark Emma

robot!Jemma Anne Simmons (the LMD who became alive)

canon divergent and more damaged Rose Tyler

headcanon based Darcy Lewis

chitauri!Jemma Simmons AU

Ames (Lara Croft and Kate Austen inspired) OC

Lorelei Baltz OC

bandit Swan AU

Dark!Jemma Simmons - canon divergent

canon divergent Emma Swan

Neria - dragon age oc (but open to any character who could exist in her world or can travel from one to the other)

Lily, same as above

Ellana Lavellan, from DA Inquisition, same as above.

Name in Tags: princess Emma / Emma Blanchard Nolan / Dark Emma

Open to: all fandoms listed in my rules, and a few anime if you can imagine her drawn, such as Inuyasha and Saiyuki.

My canon divergent princess Emma and dark!Emma for all verses in magical worlds / AU Emma Blanchard-Nolan in our world for marvel and dc show: she's an extremely chaotic, HERO-type in the funniest way possible, happy, (dumb) charming, hothead, and overconfident woman with serious issues when it comes to romance, either overshares or, when something hurts her, shares NOTHING until cornered, will aggressively trust. I like to balance good with bad, skills with flaws, outside of the super powers that canon gave her with some unbeatable 'true love magic', and I think she turned out... pretty human.

But I refuse to write her as weaker than other muses in a physical fight unless it's realistic for her to be, and keep in mind she's trained all her life and has been 'in the field' for years, with constant battles and adventures. With this I mean: beaten by a 'regular' knight? Nope. Beaten by someone who has more experience than her, both in swordfighting and dirty moves? Yes.

I'll link you the carrd so you can pick the about page depending on which character you play, skip the rules! The ONLY rules to add to the ones here are that she won't interact with Regina, Neal/Baelfire (due to personal preference), and also villains in general (because of her personality it's impossible, unless said villains they are reformed or the thread is about them changing for the better). I also very easily ship Captain Swan, but only when it's canonical Hook and not more villainous Hook.

her carrd

Name in tags: LMDAnne

Open to: I'd love to write her with other aos characters and the Doctor from Doctor Who, but she's also open to characters who could reasonably interact with her (as long as you can see interesting plots happening that will be about her too, basically. As much as I want to write her I can't think of many characters who would have an interest in her so you'll have to have something in mind and not just... pick her for your muse's development)

Robot-Jemma or LMD Jemma Anne Simmons

She was a perfect replica of a woman with zero social skills, all too innocent in her enthusiasm about scientific things like dissecting and 'ohhh this alien thing is dripping yay', all too murderous when threatened. Before she could even process she wasn't a real person but just a decoy she ended up coming into contact with alien technology, the Darkhold, read it and ended up gaining actual independent thoughts and feelings, much to her horror, while Jemma Simmons' horrible traumas felt more like an echo and a cautionary tale about what she doesn't want to become.

Depending on the verse she's either looking for a way to get herself a human body or already has it. Keep in mind that while stronger than a human, she also can feel physical pain, emotions, and that Jemma Simmons is a Genius (except when it comes to said emotions)

about

Name in tags: Rose Tyler

Open to: only the Doctor from Doctor Who including TenToo. For interactions with non-Tenth Doctors we can simply assume that the metacrisis Doctor didn't happen and it was just Donna who went Doctor-Donna (maybe Rose committed the 'genocide' against Daleks again?) and if you'd like for the Doctor to go on with canon adventures etc, she went away by herself with some portable time vortex at the first mention of it, not without a goodbye but giving the excuse of having a few loose ends to take care of, but they are eventually reunited. This because of course Rose Tyler sans Bad Wolf was 'not supposed' to act that way, but this AU Rose would. A canon divergent Rose Tyler who is 'darker' after being hurt physically and emotionally while trying to sorta be the Doctor for other universes, and whose good side is fighting to win but struggling.

A bit too ready to shoot at times while struggling against it, for one, but also physically and mentally scarred-was psychologically tortured by, among other things, being made believe that she got reunited with the Doctor so many times that now she also has to keep checking he's really there.

bit more about her

Name in tags: Darcy Lewis

Open to: only to main characters from the Marvel movie from now, including Thor's friends.

Darcy Lewis, about page to be added, but for now I can say she's just the chill, blurts-out-what-she-thinks, just going with it, Darcy Lewis we barely saw in the movies. In Wanda she was all too ready to stay behind and risk her life even when she didn't truly have to and had no field training, but I headcanon that she dismisses those things are 'gotta be done' and doesn't see them as heroic in the slightest, in fact she'd much rather leave the heroing to other and stay behind, yet every time there is danger she dives in first because people may need help. Dirty poor, picked a major that she then ditched, smarter than she lets on, she's giving a hand whenever super-people are involved because she became sort of an expert after 'befriending Thor'.

Her time with Jane and Erik for her turned them into family even if they are afar and may not feel the same, her real family sorta ditched her and her maternal grandmother raised her even if already very old and herself in need of help; she's kind even if one wouldn't tell at first glance and drawn to kind people because she has hardly found any kindness outside of her grandmother's.

Name in tags: Chitauri!Jemma

Open to: AoS Characters, the Doctor and companions.

Chitauri!Jemma, canon divergent Jemma Simmons who had Chitauri blood all along due to Roxxon's experiments on her family - who was a willing participant - decades before, and who upon being infected by a Chitauri virus had that part of herself awaken.

Carrd has rules which you can ignore and the about page you should check out, as long as you are okay with the fact that not only she's this au but will go very canon divergent, if you know the show, not be in love with Fitz (unless I'm roleplaying with a Fitz rper and we can rewrite their entire relationship), and after season 4 she actually leaves and goes vigilante/super-(anti)hero. Also no romantic relationship with Will Daniels.

carrd

Name in tags: Ames

Open to: all fandoms I know from my rules.

Lady Andromeda Katherine Amelia (Ames)

Freely taking inspiration from Lara Croft, Kate Austen and other characters for pieces of her backstory (you don’t need to know them, she’s written as the oc she is, everything needed to know will be in her bio).

Lady Andromeda Katherine Amelia Graham - goes by many fake names and, when allowed and feeling free to use her name, by Ames or Kate. Multifandom oc: backstory will be super adaptable to all fandoms whether historical, modern or involving time-travel/fantasy.

bio

Name in tags: Lorelei

Open to: works in historical and/or fantasy fandoms. She can especially fit in potc/merlin/ouat/galavant/time traveling fandoms, but I’m happy to try other crossovers (her personality depends on the outdates morals of her time so she can’t be a modern woman).

OC human&siren Lorelei Baltz, part from legends part from me.

Originally inspired by potc (see Calypso’s cameo). Can fit in fiction up until the ‘70s-’80s, when being seen as a woman who slept around was still a big problem (even if she wouldn’t depend on a husband to survive by then)

bio and verses

Name in tags: Bandit Swan

Open to: For OUAT characters who could stand spending time with an either quiet or kinda rude, no social skills, always flirting, Swan bandit who is trying so hard to appear as a villain, and other characters from fantasy-lands.

bandit Swan! An au of an au, basically, where the entire ouat story was changed by a different curse and Emma ended up being an adult, broken (destroyed, really) bandit with no memory of her first ten years of life when she was being raised as a truly beloved and happy princess, who is basically a killing machine because working to find the Evil Queen, who "killed" her baby.

Or so she believes.

Also because she needs the Evil Queen to believe she's dead, she can never show her face where there may be reflections so she always wears a mask and has a fake name (Swan).

about page

Name in tags: dark Jemma

Open to: AoS main characters, the Doctor. Low activity

Dark Jemma! Canon divergent Jemma Simmons who starts growing darker, angrier, over everything that happens to her until she eventually cracks and the 'monster' comes out.

AU verse available if you check her blog out. Default main is: she starts cracking during season 2, becoming more closed off and hostile after she finds out why Daisy's powers were kept hidden from her. After season 3A she leaves SHIELD and can meet others as well. She has been training since the end of season 1 (2013), and is using all the tech possible to make herself more efficient. Only open to aos characters because they know her and that's even more fun to deal with, a Jemma who snapped, feels hated and is spiteful right back, and to the Doctor from Doctor Who who could save just about anyone from themselves. Note that while resentful in general, she sorta excludes May, Daisy and Lance Hunter from the 'sorta enemies' and 'enemies' groups.

bio page

Name in tags: Emma Swan

Open to: Killian Jones, David Nolan and Mary Margaret. Technically canon Emma Swan even if the damage done by the system, by her terrible life before getting to Storybrooke and the traumas she lived there as well have changed her personality from the one in the show, to a less socially adapted, more emotion-driven one (as in she may snap at her parents too, at first, because overwhelmed, and she will call people out regardless of who they are).

Here to write canon divergent ways for her to fall in love with Hook or more about their domestic time, AND different ways for the lost girl to get closer to her parents while still so traumatized. She will never be friends with Regina but feel forced to be play nice to keep the town safe, and she will be far more defensive/angry about Neal and what he did to her, while they'll still co-parent. If we write that Gold followed canon in the background she also hates him to death from the moment he enslaved Killian regardless of the context (and tried to kill them both soon after).

about

Name in tags: Neria

Open to: Dragon Age characters, characters who could be in a fantasy land.

Neria Surana, mage, elf, from Dragon Age Origins. First a few things about the game so you can interact even if you don't know it, then about her:

I added her videogame fc, but if you want to imagine her in the real world the closest thing is a younger Christina Hendricks (with less curves).

IF YOU DON’T KNOW DRAGON AGE:

[About the Dragon Age World: it's a medieval/magical Lord of the Rings sort of place, and the Darkspawn, a specie of sort of demon-orcs, is trying to invade it again after a long time of peace (brought by the Grey Wardens), they even got an Arch-demon in charge now. Being infected by Darkspawn means madness and becoming one of them. Also, in this world elves are treated like animals, forced to live in squallor in alienages (filthy city wards), except for the Dalish who don't go anywhere near humans. Mages are forced to live in a tower (the Circle) as soon as they learn they have magic, and the templars are there ready to kill them in case of demon possession, which basically means being imprisoned regardless of whether you are evil or not, and if they don't pass a test to prove they can resist a demon's possession (or if they are a problem) they can be made Tranquil for a number of reasons: their emotions are stripped away. They can be tracked down via magic, there is a vial of each mage's essence there for this purpose. Also Grey Wardens go through the Joining ritual and that means that in a few decades depending on their strength they will start having nightmares and know their end is near - so they also go to the Deep Roads below ground to take down as many Darkspawn as possible and die in battle. My muses are looking for a way to stop this process.]

About Neria in particular: trusting and mischievous, Neria at first wants to break out of the Circle and see the world, she's unhappy there, lonely, even if she doesn't bring it up unless asked. She trusts a friend, Jowan, who wants to escape with his forbidden love and explains he’s being unjustly suspected of using forbidden dark magic, aka blood magic, and helps him break their blood vials so they can't be tracked down. Turns out he is lying, he *is* a blood mage, and he escapes leaving a horrified and betrayed Neria to be punished for helping him. A Grey Warden, Duncan, steps in to save her and takes her in, and she starts her adventure. Later on she spares Jowan after meeting him again simply because his help may be needed to save a possessed child, and she puts saving people before the revenge that she really would like to get.

She sees Duncan and the Grey Wardens as a family right away, a potential family that she loses almost immediately. Note that she was also very very close to the first enchanter Irving, whom she wanted to make proud, sorta like a father figure. She jokes with the Grey Warden Alistair as soon as she meets him, she is a playful person, but also truly wants to save people and help and the Grey Wardens feels like destiny. She welcomes all new friends and tries to give a hand to literally everyone, super attached to her Mabari (a war dog named "Dog"), tries to be nice to Morrigan but takes distance from people who want her to hurt innocents, and will help her but not like the comments she makes. She’s also not a believer. 

Really doesn't like the chantry but tries to be respectful around Leliana who is a believer, but prefers the company of Zevran if a thief is needed. Gets a crush on Alistair almost immediately in my game (note that anything about Alistair won't be forced on Alistair rpers, including a ship, it didn’t happen/won’t happen unless decided later on), even if she flirts around, and she will never make him a less affectionate or trusting person, if anything encouraging him to keeping his heart open even when his sister turns out to be less than pleasant. She’s not the type to want people to harden. She will keep Zevran close and find a grandmother in Wynne. She also finds Shale hilarious. 

Few more things: she never EVER forgives Loghain for his betrayal and he's executed; she will be furious about Elves' treatment, and wants mages to be free of the tower too, is against blood magic, learns as many skills as possible from teammates like healing and turning into animals, she wears an armor and uses a sword most of the time, is sarcastic/amused by Oghren, hates people in power who abuse it, is ready to die killing the Archdemon even if she'd rather not, will only try to push Alistair to do the ritual at the end with Morrigan because the player, me, found out that it's that or death for Alistair, otherwise nope. To belong somewhere or with some people, and to have adventures was all she wanted, and keeps in touch with everyone.

Name in tags: Lily

Open to: Dragon Age characters, characters who could be in a fantasy land.

Lily (Kallian Tabris originally), warrior elf from Dragon Age Origins. First I'll write a few things about her world relevant to her if you don't know the game in case you want to try to interact with her, then more about her as a person. Trigger warning here because even if it's not something that it focuses on, the game starts with a human lord intentioned of raping her and her friends, whom she murders, and she actually blurts out that that's the reason why she had to leave home, so depending on your rules I'll simply not mention that bit so up to you if you can play with her or not.

If you want to picture her as a real person, Elena Satine can do (younger, initially very skinny then back to healthy version).

IF YOU DON’T KNOW DRAGON AGE:

[About the Dragon Age World: it's a medieval/magical Lord of the Rings sort of place, and the Darkspawn, a specie of sort of demon-orcs, is trying to invade it again after a long time of peace (brought by the Grey Wardens), they even got an Arch-demon in charge now. Being infected by Darkspawn means madness and becoming one of them. Also, in this world elves are treated like animals, forced to live in squallor in alienages (filthy city wards), except for the Dalish who don't go anywhere near humans. Also Grey Wardens go through the Joining ritual and that means that in a few decades depending on their strength they will start having nightmares and know their end is near - so they also go to the Deep Roads below ground to take down as many Darkspawn as possible and die in battle. My muses are looking for a way to stop this process]

About Lily: she lived in an alienage, poor and mistreated by humans, and at the beginning of the game hates the idea that she has to marry another elf and to hide her love for battling and swords to her arranged-fiance (not very feminine). Apparently she takes her 'weird' attitude and strength from her equally strong late mother, she is a hothead, impetuous, a bit aggressive, very confident, but with a big heart. When the human lord Vaughan, son of an Arle, shows up at her wedding (which is the same day as her cousin's) and wants to use his 'right' to have her wedding night, so he wants to take her and other female elves including her cousin's fiancée; she attacks and eventually gets knocked out; wakes up in the castle, invites the others to try to rebel too, and goes on a rampage as soon as she's joined by her cousin, who brought her a sword after breaking in; her fiancé is murdered trying to come to her aid, just like one of the elves ladies is killed for trying to rebel like she had suggested. She massacres everyone and chooses to kill the lord instead of taking his bribe. Later on when the guards come for her and her cousin she takes the full blame, but Duncan, a Grey Warden, claims her in the name of Gray Warden and has her pardoned. She has to say goodbye to her father and leave, not too happy to be around humans.

She's very distrusting and generally furious when it comes to humans, very blunt, violent, and if the humans around her are actually nice people they will get through her, like Alistair who is too pure to hate and isn't a racist, otherwise it's best to keep away. Given her most recent trauma she takes a while to start talking to people, and wants to kill all the evil rulers of the land just as much as she wants to take down the Darkspawn. Elves get most of her understanding, though the ones who hate their own race and other elves also make her very angry. 

Little addition that she doesn’t have the greatest education, she chose to give up on studying because ‘what difference will it make?’ and chose to spend way more time on physical activities. Now she’s a bit defensive about the fact but also would bring up that she had very limited options thanks to humans’ treatment of city elves. Her rudeness is sometimes due to all her traumas that make her even more impulsive/aggressive, and she’s working on trying to find a balance between being as hard as she needs to be to survive and still as decent as she can be to people who deserve it.

Name in tags: Ellana

Open to: Dragon Age characters, characters who could be in a fantasy land.

Ellana Lavellan, Dragon Age Inquisition. A Dalish elf and mage inquisitor.

work in progress but I follow my playthrough so here some choices, game details and headcanons. Note that I didn’t have DLCs aside from Trespasser:

Smartass, usually in a good mood, needs to make quips and comments when against enemies or even if about to die (due to that and her appearance she reminded me of Buffy, so if you need a real person fc, she'd be young Sarah Michelle Gellar), not a believer if not in her Dalish culture, doesn't think she's a hero and wants to actually help people as soon as given the chance even if she will make all sorts of deadpan comments about it. Brave, she even nearly dies for people she's not *that* close to, because it's the right thing to do. Tries to get to know and help all her teammates without judging, with some exceptions you'll see below, would not mind going back to a normal life when it's all over but also feels like she may end up dead due to the Anchor on her hand -deep down she was expecting it until the very end. She convinced people to join the inquisition or to support it without even meaning to.

In my game she actually fell in love with Cullen but no such thing will be forced in threads, given that we'd be rewriting the story and she's basically an oc. She's open to shipping, so let's start from there.

Horrified to be called the Herald of Andraste, at the end she just goes with it because it will help keeping peace and encouraging people. They need faith and they need to have it in her, so she accepts but is always about to admit that it's not true and she wasn't chosen by anyone. Just happened to be at the wrong place, wrong time, and can't even remember it.

Befriends Dorian and there is actually some flirting and considering him as more at first, before finding out he's gay. Apparently it's not something she seemed to have been exposed to before, even if I find hard to believe that there were no gay elves, so she may been just too lost into her head to notice? Either way she took it very well, shrugged off the flirting and proceeded on considering him her best friend.

She only gets along with Solas because very curious and wants to learn everything, but feels he's too harsh on Elves and especially on Dalish and their culture, and too sure he knows more than her about it; given his dialogue and my headcanon that she's incredibly proud of her heritage, like all Dalish seem to be, I couldn't imagine her liking him much. Same for Sera who doesn't like elves, no real connection there.

Everybody else? She's super close to them, encouraged both Cassandra and Leliana to gain power because believes in both of them - but especially in Cassandra, despite a very rough beginning and not expecting to become her friend. She helps Cole become a full spirit because he seemed to truly want that option and to be accepted for who he is but she's not sure if it was the right choice. In my game she allowed Hawke to stay in the fade and fight, because Alistair was extra needed (as a Grey Warden and a hero). Lots of gossiping with Josephine is done, and she let Morrigan drink from the Well because she didn't want to risk what being 'bound' to the Goddess would mean. She would dismantle the inquisition if necessary. After the game, if not following canon and having her married and happy with Cullen, she’s missing  the hand with the mark and is working on saving the world from threats, still, but also on trying to enjoy life in between.

[pizza-is-my-buziness]

I Wanna Be Who I Couldn’t Say I’d Ever Been

So this story is completely the result of the awesome Ruby Hale head canons that @ohdangitsang has been blessing me with for the last few weeks and honestly I am just so grateful for these ideas because I need them in my life. Please never stop.

Basically it’s Ruby + being raised by SHIELD moms + plus going to school with “normal” teenagers Peter, Ned and MJ and being a total gay mess. And I definitely want to write more in this because I just love this verse so much.

So yeah, it’s a total guilty pleasure. But that’s the point, right?

“Remember: don’t kill anyone today.”

Daisy had said those words a few short hours ago, a smile on her face, but a hint of fear in her eyes, like she was actually a little bit worried about the joke being more prophetic than humorous. Ruby had only looked at her before getting out of the car without comment and walking up the steps of Midtown School of Science and Technology.

Now Ruby can’t help but repeat Daisy’s words in her mind, thinking about them like a mantra, an important thing to keep in mind.

It’s her first day of high school. She really can’t afford to kill anyone.

Though it is a little bit tempting.

Ruby tightens her hand into a fist, flexing her fingers -empty and useless- as she sits through a biology lecture that covers something she learned years ago. Who would have thought that Hydra had time to actually teach important academic concepts in between teaching their students how to kill the president with a fork?

Ruby tries to focus on the words of the teacher rather than the onslaught of other stimuli around her. There are twenty other students in the class, double the amount of teenagers that she’s used to being around at one time, and each one of them seems determined to make as much noise as possible. The scratching of pencils on paper, the scuff of sneakers on linoleum, the tap of fingers on the surface of a desk, the snuffling, sniffing, coughing, scratching…Ruby doesn’t know how they can stand all of it. It makes her skin crawl, makes her want to jump out of her seat and release some of the tension coiling at the base of her spine.

And the teacher doesn’t seem at all bothered by all the sounds, continuing with his lecture like he isn’t aware of the constant stream of noise coming from his pupils.

Plus there’s the sounds coming from the hallway outside. She’s counted ten people out in the hallway since the start of class twenty-five minutes ago and then there’s the banging of doors, the sighing and rattling pipes, the murmur of voices from the other classrooms.

Ruby can’t even think about the sounds coming from outside the window right now. She’s barely holding onto her sanity as it is.

The person in front of her is a foot-tapper and Ruby stretches her fingers toward the pen on her desk, holding her breath as she curls her fingers around it and pulls it closer and-

Don’t kill anyone today.

Ruby sighs as Daisy’s words repeat through her mind and she forces herself to relax against the back of her seat, loosening her grip on her pen. She can’t afford to make a mistake on her first day and risk getting sent off to the Fridge or some other SHIELD stronghold -a favorite threat of Mack and Coulson. Ruby is pretty sure that Coulson is mostly kidding when he says it, but she’s not completely sure about Mack. Though she’s not sure that he has that kind of pull.

Better to not risk it until at least Friday.

Instead, Ruby just exhales slowly through her teeth, giving the teacher a cursory glance to make sure that she’s still ahead of his current lecture points, before letting her eyes play over the collection of teenagers seated around her.

Real, normal, actual teenagers. Ones who have been living in this normal, real, regular life since they were born. Teenagers who don’t know anything about how to kill someone with their bare hands. Teenagers who haven’t been designed to be the perfect weapon.

Ruby has no idea how they do it.

She looks at the boy sitting to her left, the one intently scribbling in his notebook even though nothing he’s writing has anything to do with the equations that the teacher is writing on the board. Ruby watches him for a second before growing bored with his muses on the abilities of various species of spiders, studying the smattering of other students around her. The blonde in a cheerleading uniform, the kid in glasses who is diligently taking notes on the lecture, the guy staring at his crotch where he’s got his phone hidden like he’s totally being sneaky. The girl diagonal to her that isn’t even bothering to hide the fact that she’s reading a book and not paying even a sliver of attention to the teacher.

Ruby shifts impatiently in her seat, glancing toward the clock. Her body is humming with energy -she’s not used to sitting still for this long and she actually finds herself missing the drills and exercise routines that her instructors used to make her run until she was blinking sweat away from her eyes and gritting her teeth against the burning in her muscles.

When the bell finally rings, Ruby jumps in her seat, startled by the sudden, shrill sound. She’s heard it three times already, but she still hasn’t grown used to the sound and she knocks her books onto the floor, earning her a few giggles from her classmates. The kid who had been intently scribbling down things about spiders starts to help her gather her stuff but Ruby snatches it away quickly, hurrying out of the room.

It feels good to be moving at least, even if she’s just going from one room to the next, following the schedule that Jemma put into her hands the night before and instructed her to follow down to the minute. “You always need to be exactly where you’re supposed to be,” she had said, her voice a mixture of stern and understanding. “It’s very important.”

Ruby had taken the schedule with a roll of her eyes. “You think I don’t know how to follow orders?”

She already has the schedule memorized, right down to the room numbers and the names of the teachers and the layout of the school building. Ruby follows the crush of students in the direction of the cafeteria, studying the new terrain with a touch of trepidation. Daisy had briefed her on this part of her day, telling her to make friends, to find someone pleasant to sit with so that she didn’t have to be alone.

Friends. Hmm. Ruby figures it’s probably pretty hard to make friends when you’re attending normal high school for the first time after being raised as an indomitable Hydra weapon. But also the whole not having said a word to anyone all day thing probably doesn’t help either.

Ruby isn’t entirely sure where she stands on the subject of friends anyway. She’s never had them; she’s only ever dealt with people who sought to keep her from her goal, her purpose. She’s had the blood of her classmates on her hands, and even in some cases, their deaths on her shoulders. Which is probably something the people laughing and carrying on around her can’t exactly relate to.

“Hey! Hey, new girl!”

It takes Ruby only a second to ascertain that this summons is directed at her. When she turns her head, she sees the spider-boy waving her over to a table, a grin on his face. Beside him, his pudgy friend is also smiling, though much in the same way that Daisy had smiled at her that morning -hopeful but with a hint of fear.

“Come sit with us.” He points to an empty chair opposite of where he’s currently sitting and Ruby debates her options for a second before moving in his direction.

“We always have empty spaces at our table,” the spider-boy tells her before sitting down in his own seat. “I’m Peter and this is Ned. How’s your first day going?”

Ruby blinks at him, trying to decide if this is a normal thing that normal teenagers do. Do they often talk to one another without pausing? Do they often engage in conversation with strangers without having any type of motive?

Peter and Ned exchange a look at her silence and then Ned shrugs, picking up the slice of pizza on his plate and starting to eat like having strange, silent, blonde girls at the lunch table is completely ordinary.

“You need help navigating the line?” Peter tilts his head in the direction of the massing of students moving through the line, holding trays of food.

Ruby unzips her backpack, pulling out the lunch that Jemma had packed for her that morning in a lunchbox that Daisy had bought for her. “It’s red, see? Like…you know…” Daisy had grinned at her, far too amused in what she perceived as her own cleverness. “Like ruby.”

Ruby isn’t entirely sure if normal teenagers have lunchboxes to coordinate with their names so she makes a mental note to do some recon, just so she knows how to ensure her normalcy tomorrow.

No one really seems to be paying much attention to her at all, aside from Peter and Ned, so Ruby figures that she’s safe for the time being.

Peter just nods. “Ah, good thinking,” he says. “The food here can actually be pretty good, though.”

Ned lifts his pizza slice as proof. “Mondays are always pizza day.”

Ruby studies the triangle in his hand. “I’ve never had pizza.”

This comment earns her incredulous looks from both Ned and Peter and Ruby is pretty sure that Ned only just barely manages not to drop the pizza back onto his tray. She isn’t sure if their surprise is because she’s uttered her first sentence since walking into the school building or because she’s never eaten pizza before.

She’s not sure which is a worse offense in their minds.

Peter and Ned are still fumbling with a response when Ruby senses movement to her right and turns her head just as the girl from her science class drops into the chair beside her. She sets her tray down in front of her and pulls out her book, flipping it open without a glance at the other people at the table.

“That’s Michelle,” Peter says, pointing to the girl with her curly hair piled on top of her head and her deep brown eyes scanning the pages of her book.

“Sup,” Michelle says without looking out from her book. “MJ.”

Peter lifts his eyebrows. “I thought you said only your friends could call you that.”

The girl just looks at him over the top of her book and turns the page without comment.

Ruby looks at the three of them and tries to decipher the conversation going on around her. She’s starting to feel even less equipped for normal high school than she’d previously thought.

There seems to be an air of expectation at the table and Ruby sighs, breathing out slowly. “My name is Ruby.”

It’s been a while since she’s been around people who didn’t know who she was.

Who didn’t know to be afraid of her.

Ruby isn’t sure what to make of the sudden tightness in her chest, the way her stomach feels like it’s twisting around inside her body.

“So,” Ned says, unaware of the sudden fluttery panic that Ruby feels running through her body, “you’ve really never had pizza?”

~ ~ ~

After lunch, Ruby is almost relieved to head to the gym, though her relief is quickly tempered by disappointment when she sees that it’s nothing like the gym from the safe house. There are just bleachers and freshly waxed floors and a few basketball hoops and everything smells like sweat and desperation and rubber and Ruby isn’t sure what she’s supposed to do with this.

How is she supposed to keep herself in shape with…this? How is she supposed to work off the energy threatening to tear her apart from the inside out?

The coach blows the whistle around his neck and Ruby jumps once again, cursing herself under her breath. She makes a mental note to ask May to work whistle drills into their regular training sessions in the hopes that it’ll help her look more normal around her classmates, more like she belongs there.

“Okay, go ahead and start your stretches and then we’ll move on to push-ups,” the coach says, his tone matching the bored expressions that Ruby sees around her. “We’ll finish with laps. Let’s go people.”

Of course he punctuates his instructions with another bleat on the whistle and Ruby grits her teeth, rolling her shoulders. She’s really tempted to grab that whistle and shove it down his throat…if she doesn’t shove it too far down then she should still be able to adhere to Daisy’s command to not kill anyone.

As Ruby effortlessly moves through the stretches that she’s been doing since she could walk, she notices Peter and Ned a few feet to her left and, beside them, MJ. Who happens to be sitting cross-legged on the floor, book in her lap. Ruby stretches her arm across her chest, holding the posture until she feels her muscles start to tingle, coming alive, keeping her focus on MJ.

MJ lifts her head as if sensing Ruby’s eyes on hers, meeting Ruby’s gaze before Ruby can look away. She holds up the book so that Ruby can see the title: The Handmaid’s Tale, raising her eyebrows in a question that Ruby can’t entirely decipher.

Quickly, Ruby looks away, feeling a strange heat rush to her cheeks, the unsettling feeling returning to her stomach. She pushes it away, focusing on loosening her body in preparation for the push-ups.

And, of course, the command to begin comes with a whistle.

Ruby really wants to snatch that thing away from the coach and wrap the lanyard around his neck and just-

Thankfully the physical activity helps take her mind off the impulse that she feels to strangle the man. Ruby doesn’t bother to keep track of push-ups, focusing instead on her breathing, on the movement of her muscles, the curve of her spine as she moves effortlessly.

It takes her a few minutes to realize that the coach is staring at her with interest, whistle hanging loosely from his teeth. “Where did you say you transferred from?” He asks when he sees that he has Ruby’s attention. “Was it some kind of military academy?”

Ruby doesn’t bother to answer, moving fluidly from the push-up position to standing once more. She wipes at her forehead with the back of her hand even though she’s not close to sweating. It’s a bit of a disappointment. Clearly she’s going to have to hold back here, as it seems like physical prowess is not normal.

And Ruby so badly just wants to be normal.

The coach moves off to supervise some of the other students and Ruby sees that he’s not the only one who has been watching her. Peter is studying her closely too, brow furrowed with interest. He looks like he wants to say something, which Ruby figures is the perfect excuse to turn her back to him and act like she needs to go through the stretching process once more, even though her body is itching, aching to move.

It’s a relief when they move to the laps portion of the class and Ruby doesn’t even bother to remember to keep herself in check as they start their laps around the all too small space of the gym. She thinks if she bothers to hold back, even for a moment longer, that she’ll go completely crazy.

And then someone really might die.

And then where would she be?

Ruby laps everyone easily, focusing on the sound of her feet against the floor. It makes it easier to move, to think, when that’s all she has to concentrate on.

And then…she hears another pair of footsteps join the rhythm that she’s gotten used to, matching her pace.

Ruby frowns, lifting her head, glancing over to her left. She’s only somewhat surprised to see Peter running there beside her, grinning, not seeming the least bit winded. “Finally, someone else who can keep up,” he says, companionably.

Ruby purses her lips, adding a little bit more speed to her laps, hardly in the mood for conversation.

Not that it matters. For every burst of speed Ruby gives to her strides, Peter is there to match her perfectly, keeping pace with her effortlessly. Ruby stops bothering to count laps, stops keeping track of the number of times that she laps her classmates, instead focusing on Peter and shaking him.

It doesn’t do much good. He keeps perfect pace with her until the coach blows his whistle and Ruby breaks her stride, nearly stumbling in her surprise. Peter reaches for her, keeping her upright with a hand on her shoulder, which Ruby quickly shakes away.

“Okay, I think that’s enough of that,” the coach calls from the opposite side of the gym. “Everybody dress out.”

Peter grins at her, not seeming at all winded. Which is something Ruby can relate to. He steps closer to her, invading her personal space. “So, are you like…” He glances around to make sure there’s no one else around. “A superhero too or something?”

Ruby steps back quickly, trying to force down the sudden surge of panic that she feels at Peter’s words.

She heads toward the girls’ locker room without bothering to answer, without even trying to protest that she’s normal, totally normal, that she’s here because she’s normal. Normal, normal, normal.

That’s all she wants to be.

Ruby figures it’ll do no good to point out to Peter that she’s hardly a superhero.

More like a supervillain.

~ ~ ~

As Ruby heads down the steps toward the line of cars waiting at the front of the building, she spots MJ sitting cross-legged beside one of the stone statues at the front of the school. MJ lifts her hand in a brief wave, lifting her chin in a parting gesture.

Ruby swallows and looks away quickly.

It’s a definite relief to be sitting in the back seat of the car, closed into the small space with just Daisy and Jemma.

Even though Ruby can tell right away they’re both trying to hide their anxiety, trying to look casual as they both turn around in their seats to look at her.

“So…” Daisy prompts, a hopeful smile on her face.

“How was it?” Jemma finishes the sentence for her and Ruby wants to tell them that they both suck at this whole casual persona they’re trying to master.

Ruby just shrugs, looking out the window at the stream of students. She briefly thinks about telling them about the bells, about all the sounds and movement and things that threaten to distract her. She thinks about telling them about the schedule and how she almost can’t stand the forced rigidity of it. She thinks about mentioning Peter’s strange comment to her, or even mentioning Peter and Ned to them and suggesting timidly that she might have friends.

But then she sees MJ and Ruby purses her lips, frowning slightly.

Ruby looks back toward Daisy and Jemma, who are still staring at her and Ruby can practically feel them holding their collective breath. “Can you take me to the library?” She asks, rather than answer their impatient, unspoken questions. “I need to get a book.”

Daisy and Jemma exchange a look, nearly indecipherable given the years that Ruby assumes they’ve had to perfect their special form of silent communication.

Finally Jemma nods. “Of course. Do you need it for school?”

Ruby shrugs, settling back in her seat. “No,” she says. “Someone recommended it to me.”

At least, she thinks that’s what happened anyway.

Teenagers are hard to figure out.

Daisy lifts an eyebrow. “You made a friend?”

A few months ago, Ruby would have sneered at the hopeful lilt in Daisy’s voice. She would have seen it as weakness, exploited it to gain the upper hand, to do whatever she had to do to take out her enemy.

Hope, much like friends, was completely unnecessary to her even a month ago.

Now Ruby just shrugs, turning the word over in her mind.

A month ago, she wouldn’t have cared about having friends.

She wouldn’t have cared about being normal.

But Ruby knows how fast circumstances can change.  

[sosadandyetsoamazing]

about page

Sorry if it’s long, but I realized that I write the opposite of what most people assume about Jemma even when I don’t add the chitauri element. I’m assuming you already read the rules and know about season 2.

about her alien side, if you want more details the longer version is at the bottom: 

Jemma had Chitauri DNA since her birth, just a trace of it at first, that came from her great-grandfather’s experiments on himself (with the help of Roxxon). Her Chitauri DNA’s development was triggered by the Chitauri virus that infected her in season 1, which started changes in her not-so-human body. Jemma knew about the experiments since before SHIELD but naturally never told anyone; she refused to even think about it outside of making a secondary life-goal her intention to erase any trace of not human elements from her body. Unless we plot otherwise or we write the starter where your muse finds out, by default if we write threads set in later seasons I’ll assume that: she told Fitz about her alien status after Daisy recovered after being shot in season 1. In season 2 she told Daisy and then Coulson after Porto Rico and the inhuman powers reveal. Then May. The others found out later when she either told them or showed her real skin.

About her superpowers: she doesn't have all Chitauri abilities, but:

-she eventually develops thermal vision , but has trouble controlling it. -she can't survive a shot to the head unless she's made herself ready for it, unlike the actual chitauri. She can make her skin become hard enough to protect herself from bullets when she focuses on it (and in that case it shows scales) and to not break herself while using super-strength, but she's not invulnerable, she can still feel pain and she has no perfect control on it especially when emotional. -her eyes can turn yellow, seemingly when she’s using any of her other powers or is too emotional. -given that shapeshifting depends on ingesting someone first, she has no idea if she can turn into someone else, but she can at least hide her wounds and make herself look healthy, though they are still there. It requires constant focus however, so if she stops thinking about looking like her previous intact self for even one second, her wounds and bruises will show up again. -she does have extra strength and an amazing memory like the Chitauri do. But while she was already used to her mind working on a higher level, her body is mostly human and many factors are involved in how dangerous it is to use her strength on purpose.

 A very important canon divergence that I ask you to read from beginning to end: 

whether I write her with a Fitz rper and they are dating, or I write her in other ships, she will NEVER be the hope to someone’s doom (it has to be mutual). In this blog she will keep being bad at guessing people’s reactions to her words/actions, she won’t always know what to say, she’ll prefer to help with little actions, though obviously she’ll do her best to be nice to the people she loves and encourage them, and she will feel rejected and useless if that doesn’t work. She will keep being passionate about science but more about biochemistry, she was never emotionally equipped to be a doctor or therapist. Prosthetics are her thing with some help from Fitz, and she’ll work together with him on sci-fi issues since they are both out of their depth and both geniuses. She will not be able to repress every negative emotion for years straight and will need to be comforted too.  Jemma is messed up by traumas and PTSD, she doesn’t have an inhuman power that allows her to repress everything and keep functioning perfectly. She found pretty easy to kill in the past and uses it to her advantage and to protect her friends when they hesitate, can be cruel to people she’s angry at, hypocritical as hell when it comes to wanting her friends to be healthy and talk to her, has shown several times to feel both self-hatred yet also superiority towards many others, is only warm to close friends (season 1 team in particular) and more wary to others as well as downright rude behind her nice smiles and smug. She claims to not break rules in season 1 but her behavior says the opposite. She’s not very self-aware. She’s sassy and salty. I’m not bound by tvshow budgets so she will learn to fight as early as possible to keep people from getting hurt for her again and she’ll use all the tech available when on missions. Covering her face is a must before battle since she can’t out herself as alien-like/make people think she’s inhuman without endangering her family. Speaking of which, her little sister is back in her life around season 3  when Jemma finally tells her she’s a SHIELD agent and didn’t ‘abandon’ her to be a party planner. Their mother can go from neglectful and toxic to straight up abusive depending on the universe, in the latter’s case she’s more likely to be able to put herself in the shoes of other victims of abuse and be less harsh against them if they genuinely want a second chance, something she’d normally deny depending on the harm they caused.   

Important things to know when it comes to my characterization, but from now on ONLY bolded things are important:

-She never had a problem with anyone over being different, just like in canon. She was worried about another alien virus when it comes to the Diviner, she was worried Skye would die over her changes until told she was inhuman, that it was part of her DNA and accepted it, she wants Raina dead regardless of her powers, and we all know she didn’t leave Fitz because she couldn’t ‘accept him’. If Daisy rpers agree, Jemma went to the safe-house with Daisy to keep her company since she was in less danger than anyone else. Which means she was there when the other SHIELD attacked, Gordon took only Daisy away, Jemma attacked Bobbi and Calderon too, was shot/ICEd and taken back to the base, where she kept being antagonistic and was kept an eye on because identified as an alien - she only pretended to cooperate when May came back. If Jemma didn’t go with Daisy she was outed as alien and fought against the attackers but passed out from the gas. She’d have killed them until shot down once awake if Fitz hadn’t been there to explain what was happening. Canonically Gonzales meant to keep Daisy too, they wouldn’t let someone who just came out as alien or part alien walk away free, she was if anything another proof that Coulson couldn’t be trusted.

-In s3 she and Will stayed friends. Things went slow with Fitz because she needed a long time to recover from Maveth. She did get together with Fitz, but unless I'm writing with a Fitz rper, eventually they realized that they weren't the people they fell in love with long ago, that there was too big of a lack of communication and too little helping each other because too involved in each other's traumas, and so they broke up some time before the Framework, right after Fitz's investigation about Radcliffe. They intended to get some distance from each other to feel better after solving this last Aida issue, but then the Framework happened. Dekes are welcomed, but his grandfather wouldn't be Fitz unless plotted otherwise.

-She couldn't make herself invulnerable to Jiyera's torture in season 3, she couldn't let Hydra find out what she is and decide to torture Fitz instead. However after she escaped she didn't need to free Andrew Garner for help, she accidentally broke him free when using her powers. 

-She joined more field agents during the six months of break between season 3 and season 4, using her powers to do good but still feeling very wrong. She also understood Daisy's need to leave after Lincoln’s death and was happy to help her survive away from SHIELD, using her 'double agent' status with Mace to keep her friends safe and help inhumans. Though she did scold Daisy over expecting her to step back and only show up to be a doctor.  

-After the Framework, a newly traumatized Jemma wants to help her friends and Fitz, but she realizes that it's all too much right now, and she's in no position of being supportive. She also can't risk getting arrested. Coulson himself suggests her to leave with Piper and the others, and tells her that they'll call her if she's needed. So she does that, and goes back to look into her past, into who she is, as well as agreeing to see a SHIELD therapist to discuss her situation some day. It's all open to plotting, crossovers can happen due to portals, and when it comes to aos I ask to not be involved in plots such as characters' deaths aside from her having been told about Coulson and having seen him before he died in Tahiti if we must incorporate it in our plots.

thank you so much for reading, if we are mutuals and you want to let me know you read it, feel free to like this page!

The longer version of how she came to be part chitauri if you are interested: 

Jemma's great-grandfather's DNA was mixed with alien's by Roxxon, an evil organization that still exists to this day. No one in the family beside that man showed any special abilities, beside Jemma being a genius. Still, the child was told stories about how special she was by her grandmother, and the intention behind those first attempts to prepare Jemma was to reveal the truth once she'd be an adult and able to handle the news. But even as a kid she was a curious, skilled biochemist all too happy to experiment in her house's laboratory, and she ended up finding odd things in her DNA and questioning her family. So she was told the truth before joining SHIELD at age sixteen - whether SHIELD knew or not is to be determined - and she wasn't sure if she should believe any of it or how she felt about being part alien, so she elected to ignore it for now until able to research and learn more. Until, of course, the Chitauri attacked New York, aliens became 'real' to the public, and Jemma didn't have the courage to tell Fitz, her best friend in the world, or even to think about it too much, that she was part alien too. Jemma joined the Bus for field action as in canon but also to have the opportunity to deal with more alien samples and tech and study herself, even try to modify her own body to be completely normal even though the differences at the time were still minimal; sadly, everything went wrong. She was infected by a chitauri virus, which attacked the human side of her body and would have likely either killed her directly or by destroying the plane she was in and taking her friends with her, and the fact that she was given the anti-serum in time and the electrostatic shock that followed resulted in having her chitauri side awoken and her body actually start to change. Jemma began to notice odd things and tried to keep them secret while studying herself - and she realized that yes, the chitauri were the ones used in the experiments involving her great-grandfather much like she had feared.

[sad-trash-writing]

Halloween prompt maybe? Skimmons + car breaks down (or gets sabotaged, knowing these ladies' lives) in the middle of nowhere and it's getting dark

Halloween Prompt #1!

AO3 Link 

Daisy tried to appear calm as they drove deeper into the woods. Jemma, in the passenger seat, was completely at ease, and Daisy knew she would be teased relentless (and in really big words) if Jemma could see how nervous she was. 

I mean, who has a bonfire on Halloween night in the middle of the woods? That was when all the crazy murderers were out, if the spooky movies Daisy had been watching every night for a month were any indication. Also ghosts. Daisy peered out the side window and saw the moon creeping up the horizon. It was a full moon so, great! Werewolves too.

Not that Daisy actually believed in any of that (at least not if someone asked her), but it was better to be cautious. 

Still, all their friends would be there and Bobbi was the one who suggested it, so Daisy and Jemma both said yes immediately. Daisy tried not to grumble at the fact that she knew Jemma said yes because she had a massive crush on Bobbi. Not that Daisy could blame her, but it still twinged a bit. 

Jemma hummed to herself in the passenger seat and tapped her fingers along to the song on the radio, despite the fact that it kept cutting in and out. As often as she could risk it, Daisy hazarded a glance at her. She just looked so pretty and peaceful and didn’t even care that the radio was about to die at any minute.  

Daisy’s attention was jarred back to the road when she hit a rather rough pothole. She reassuringly patted the dashboard as her van made a distressed sound. It had been through a lot, but it always pulled through. 

Then, Daisy noticed the van was grinding to a stop. She muttered words of encouragement as she pumped the gas, but it refused to respond. She finally resigned herself and guided the van over to the side of the road. 

“Oh no,” Jemma mused, “Should we call Bobbi to come pick us up? Or a tow truck?”

Daisy waved her off. “No, it’s fine. I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t fix.”

Daisy dug into the pouch on the back of her seat and pulled out a set of worn tools. It wouldn’t be the first time she had to do a 5-minute tune up on the side of the road. 

It would, however be the first time she had done one in the middle of the woods. On Halloween. 

It sounded like the set up to a bad slasher movie. 

Daisy gulped and hopped out of the car.

She popped the hood of the car open and propped it up. At least there wasn’t any smoke. She pushed her sleeves up and dug into the bowels of the engine to figure out what the issue was. 

“Do you need some help?” Jemma called from the car.

The sound of her voice made Daisy jump and bang her elbow on the radiator.

  “No, it’s fine. It’ll only be…”

She trailed off as she found the issue. A clump of wires was dangling loose in the middle of the engine. She grabbed the end to inspect them. They were cut through. Each had a tiny fiber that wasn’t cut, one that would stay attached until the van was jarred just harshly enough. 

Like it did on that pothole.

Daisy’s stomach dropped.

It couldn’t be what she thought it was. That would be ridiculous.

  At that moment a screeching, grating sound pierced the air. Metal on metal shrieked against Daisy’s eardrums and broke the relative peace of the nighttime. 

Just as quickly as it had started, the sound stopped. Daisy’s ears were still ringing, but she thought she heard something crash through the trees on the side of the road, moving away from her van.

The passenger side door opened and slammed closed again. Jemma jogged around the front of the car and met up with Daisy. 

“What the hell was that?” She asked.

Daisy just shook her head.

She rounded the driver’s side of the car where the sound seemed like it originated from. 

Where there were previously only dents and the odd spot of rust in the paint of the van, now there was a long, jagged scratch mark running the length of the car. 

Before Jemma could ask another question, Daisy grabbed her around the waist, wrenched open the back sliding door, and threw her inside.

Daisy quickly followed Jemma inside, slammed the door behind herself, and reached into the front seat to lock the doors, before cowering back in the spacious back. 

Jemma sat up where she had been thrown and glared. “Daisy, what the hell are you doing?”

“Don’t you see? It’s the Hook Man! He’s real and he lured us out into the woods to murder us on Halloween!”

Jemma just blinked at her. Daisy was fully aware of how ridiculous she sounded, but all the evidence added up.

“You didn’t see the wires! He somehow knew we were going to be heading this way and cut the wires just enough so we’d get out into the woods, hit that pothole, and get stuck here!” Daisy defended.

“Are you sure there’s no other, more sane explanation? Like maybe, you just needed to replace those wires and the happen to break at that moment,” Jemma suggested.

“But what about the scratch on my car! Normally, I’d be out there, ready to murder whoever did that to my baby, but that could only be made by a homicidal maniac with a hook for a hand!”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “Daisy, that’s just an urban legend to scare teenagers away from making out in their cars.”

Daisy jabbed a finger at Jemma. “That’s what they want you to think. There’s always one disbeliever.”

“Oh for gods sa-”

“Shhhh! Listen,” Daisy interrupted.

The pair sat in silence for a moment. Then, they heard it: the rhythmic tapping on the roof of the car. 

“I’m going to see what that is,” Jemma said and moved towards the door.

“No!” Daisy shouted, grabbing her by the back of the shirt and pulling Jemma into her lap. “The skeptic is always the first to investigate, and they always end up getting murdered! As soon as you go out that door, there’s gonna be a psycho in a trench coat waiting to string you up from a tree by your intestines like whoever is dripping blood on the roof!”

Jemma rolled her eyes again and grumbled something, but it was muted because Daisy had pulled Jemma’s head into her chest and was gripping her tightly.

Jemma wriggled to free herself. “Daisy, I don’t want to belittle your beliefs, but is it possible-”

“I have to tell you something,” Daisy blurted.

“It better be something sane.”

“Since were going to die anyway-”

“We’re not going to die-”

“I love you.”

Jemma blinked. “I…oh.”

Daisy fisted her hands in her hair and took a deep breath. “I should have said something earlier, but I’m a coward and I told myself I would keep my mouth shut unless one of us was dying, or something. Well, now here we are: living out the start of a B-horror movie.” 

“Why did you have to wait until one of us was dying?” Jemma asked exasperatedly. 

“I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same,” Daisy mumbled. “And then, hanging out would be weird and I’d lose you as a friend.”

“Oh.”

“I’d rather have you as a friend than not at all, so I kept quiet.” Daisy fidgeted with her hands as she spoke. She kept her eyes to the floor, except when they flitted to the front windows to keep an eye out for a potential murder.

“Daisy?”

“Hm?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Before Daisy could question why she was ridiculous (though she knew she was), Jemma’s lips were on hers and her back was pressed into the wall of the van.

She didn’t even care about the serial killer outside anymore. If he broke down the door right now and stabbed her, Daisy thought she could die happy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hunter jogged up the hill, trying his hardest not to trip over all the roots and rendezvoused with Bobbi and Fitz at the top of the ridge. 

“How’s it going on this end?” He asked. He tossed the old nail he had used to scratch the car off into the woods.

“Pretty well,” Bobbi replied, periodically tossing a jelly bean onto the roof of Daisy’s car while leaning against a tree. “I thought you were gonna win with the ‘one or both of them pee themselves’ for a minute, but they both just jumped in the back of the car.”

“Not to worry. A bit more calibration on the x-ray goggles and we should be able to see whether Daisy is going to sacrifice Jemma to the murderer, meaning I would win,” Fitz replied, tinkering with what looked like a massive set of binoculars.

“I’m not even going to ask why you have those, mate. I’m just glad you do,” Hunter replied. “Though, this seems to be turning into one of the most expensive pranks you’ve pulled. Daisy’s going to kill you when she finds out you planned this.”

Fitz waved him off. “Don’t worry, I’m going to pay her back for the paint job on her car and Mack will replace the wiring for free.”

“My money’s still on them rigging up a weapon to attack the murderer,” Bobbi pipped up, tossing a handful of jelly beans into her mouth, before resuming tossing them at the car.

“Ah, got it!” Fitz said triumphantly. “Now to see what they’re up…to…”

“What is it? What are they doing?” Hunter prodded. Bobbi scrambled up from her place to see what the fuss was about. 

“They’re…making out?” Fitz said in disbelief.

“What?! Who had that?”

“Nobody,” Bobbi replied with a shrug, “Unless you count Mack, but he never officially got in on this. Other than to tell us we were sociopaths, of course.”

Hunter gaped. “What about a psychotic murderer stranding you in the woods screams ‘romance?’”

“We all know Jemma loves romantic near-death-experience confessions,” Fitz muttered. 

“Really. Are you talking about the time you and her got trapped in an underwater research pod and you thought you were going to drown?” Bobbi prompted. “How’d that work out?”

“That was- that’s n- This is an entirely different scenario, okay,” Fitz sputtered. Hunter patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. “So, when do we break up the smooch-fest and get them to the actual bonfire?”

Bobbi shrugged. “Let’s let them have a few minutes. They’ve been through a lot.”

[theclaravoyant]

The No.1 Bus Kids Detective Agency - Chapter 4

AN ~ okay this time I really swear it’s the penultimate chapter. I think I may actually get this up before 4B officially begins! yay! in the meantime, enjoy!

Please note this fic 100% ignores the latest sneak peek. I haven’t seen it & would not like it spoiled. Thanks.

After Aida’s mysterious malfunctions, Fitz is called into the Director’s office for definitely-not-an-interrogation-we-promise. As the evidence at hand becomes increasingly concerning, Fitz decides to play it smart and set himself, Jemma and Daisy a challenge. Only, they may already be in deeper than they know.

Read Ch.1 on tumblr here x. Ch.2 here x. Ch.3 here x.

Read on AO3. (This chap: ~2300wd. All: ~9000wd)

The No.1 Bus Kids Detective Agency - Ch. 4

Into the Fire

-

Seconds passed in silence. Aida blinked passively. Simmons became starkly aware of the taste of her own saliva, and the feeling of her heartbeat in her fingertips, shaking the knife just slightly with every pump. She glanced at Vincent again. He seemed just as confused as she was, white knuckles under brown skin clenching ferociously at his knife. He met Simmons’ eyes, and with a slightly strained voice, demanded,

“You know her?”

“We’ve met,” Simmons confessed.

“Would you help me?” Aida repeated. “Please? It’s cold and I believe your Agents will be quite uncomfortable outside.”

Simmons lowered her knife a little.

“You didn’t kill them?”

“I try not to.”

“What about Nathanson?” Simmons gestured to his body, so that Aida knew.

“I wasn’t ready. They weren’t ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“I really think we should go, Doctor Simmons. Or at least send some people out. Those people, behind the lounge chair there. They would be enough. There’s only two men to carry in.”

Simmons looked to where Aida had gestured. A few of the forensics team had hidden quite successfully, but she had rooted them out in seconds. What had given them away – their heat? Their breathing? Simmons was just relieved for the fact that Aida didn’t seem intent on killing them.

“Will you let them go?” Vincent demanded. He put a surprising amount of force behind it, for all his fear.

Aida, who had been watching Simmons, eyed him up and down with an eerily human-like nod of the head.

“Doctor Vincent. You lead these people?”

“Yes.”

“You speak bravely on their behalf. Unfortunately, I must contain the situation until I am ready. I hope you understand.”

With a soft smile, that was the end of that. Vincent looked to Simmons instead, and though they both kept an eye on Aida, she seemed patient enough to wait for them to converse over what to do with the team. In the end it seemed there was nothing else for it but to send them out and order them to come back in again, carrying their guards.

“Excellent. Doctor Vincent will stay here and will call me when all members of the team return. If I do not receive a call by the time Doctor Simmons and I are finished with our work, I shall track down and eliminate security breaches. Is that understood?”

They nodded uncomfortably.

“Off you go then. Spit spot. Now, Doctor Simmons - come with me, please.”

-  

Vault D.

She’d tracked Fitz’ access card easy enough, but her anxieties were not soothed. In fact, she felt a little more nervous for having left a digital trail. If Robo-May was anywhere near as technologically aware as she had seemed in the hack, Daisy knew she could be tracked. As could Fitz. Their cards could be cancelled. In fact, if Robo-May had the mind for it, she could cut off the airflow to the Vaults. Daisy hoped Fitz had kept the good sense not to cross the barrier.

As the possibilities began to spiral, a sense of panic nipped at Daisy’s heels. Her mind was spinning so fast she could hardly read the labels on the Vault rooms as she passed them, and the scuffing of footsteps above her sounded increasingly like someone was chasing her.

Vault D.

She found it and scanned her card. If she could just get in and breathe for a second –

EH-EH

An ugly beep made her jump. She canned her card again. And again.

EH-EH. EH-EH.

How much oxygen was there in that room?

The door finally opened and she heaved a deep breath. The barrier was down, so no suffocation to worry about, and Fitz and Radcliffe were bent over a table in discussion, not at each other’s throats. Apparently at least one of the day’s discoveries had gone in their favour.

“You okay?” Fitz asked, watching Daisy with concern. “It was just your card, that wouldn’t let you in. You don’t have high enough clearance. I’d have authorized you if I knew, but the bloody rainbow –”

Daisy waved him off.

“Not important, I’m here now, and I have news. Big news.” She limped over to the table, her wounded body beginning to take its toll. Fitz offered her a seat and she sat gratefully before explaining:

“It’s May. She’s a robot too.”

Fitz frowned. “How do you know?”

“It was something she said. But think about it – she suddenly knows how to use computers. She’s smiling too much, because that’s the proper response for showing happiness for most people but not May. And she beat the crap out of me this afternoon, I mean –“ Daisy held out her arms, gesturing to her entire self. “This was supposed to be a sparring match!”

Fitz’s eyes widened, and he looked over Daisy in horror. When he glanced back over his shoulder for Radcliffe’s input, he saw the man with a hand to his chin, musing. With Fitz and Daisy’s attention on him, Radcliffe switched from thought to explanation.

“Agent May, was it?” he checked. “That makes sense. She’s your protector, all of you. That’s what they’re for. And we have her brain quite thoroughly scanned from all of that hubbub with the Ghosts. As a next step to the program, it does make sense.”

“The program?” Fitz wondered, a shiver of irritation biting at his accent. “Aida’s program? Next step?”

“Of course!” Radcliffe insisted. “No ruddy point having a legion of agents everyone knows are robots, is there? There’s got to be some LMDs that are actually the Ds for the Ls.”

“The what?” Daisy screwed up her nose.

“LMDs,” Fitz explained. “Life Model Decoys. Aida doesn’t look like anyone that’s actually alive. He’s saying that would be too easy to figure out, if they were all like that, and we need to build some that look like real agents.”

Daisy nodded, understanding. “No point pulling the old switcheroo unless there’s something to switcheroo with.”

“Exactly,” Radcliffe confirmed.

“But where did she get the body from?”

-

Simmons found herself staring into her own face.

Her own face, with skin that seemed just a little too smooth, like it would be rubbery to touch, and eyes that were vacant and soulless, not in the entrancing way that a black hole was, but dull, like a sleeping computer screen. She was face to face with a robot shell of herself – and, all said and done, a pretty good one.

Beside Robo-Jemma stood Robo-Daisy, who must have been constructed from older photos as her hair was longer. More than that, though, the shape of her eyes and her nose seemed wrong, like they’d been painted onto the wrong doll. Apparently, whoever had built the facial paneling hadn’t taken into account the Chinese elements of her bone structure. They’d used a generic Caucasian mould. An older model, perhaps? Simmons speculated.

After Robo-Daisy, stood all in a line, were a number of unpersonalised manikin-like robots, made of bare panels and wiring and different stages of skin-like covering. It was like an evolution exhibit, but for robots, where Aida, it seemed, was the living species.

A chill ran down Simmons’ spine, and at the last moment she remembered to catch the knife she’d been holding, before it slipped out of her fingers and clattered to the floor. Not that it would be much use, she couldn’t help thinking. Any attack would be fruitless; Aida would see it coming or maybe even explode it with laser vision or some other hidden robot talent. Still, she remembered where she’d left Vincent, sat on the arm of the lounge with his phone in his hands, looking about as comfortable as if he was sitting on a bomb. She strengthened her grip.

“What is this place?” she demanded. “What are these things?”

“They are my replicas. Some of them predate me – Doctor Radcliffe made a number of attempts, of course. Others have been built since myself. I built them. The last two and another. It was difficult. I had to combine much knowledge, but recently a world of thought and insight was opened to me and I could finally do it. I could finally create. Do you know what a wonder that is, Doctor Simmons?”

Aida beamed, awed by her own potential, and Simmons was painfully reminded of her younger, brighter self. It was a wonder, indeed; so much that she almost smiled for a moment, but the stakes at hand did not allow her. She forced her mind back onto the path of practicality.

“Where is the third?” Simmons asked. “You said there was another.”

“Yes. She is in the field right now, so I am unable to show you. And of course, I would not wish to ‘blow’ her cover, as the Agents say. If I may boast, however, her complexion is marvelous. Even I’m not sure how I did it! Ha! It was perfect timing, too; what a great coincidence to have such a detailed brain-scan on hand just when it was all coming to fruition?”

Still smiling, apparently quite satisfied with herself, Aida began to busy herself with a set of machinery that Simmons could not quite see. Simmons, meanwhile, frowned in puzzlement as pieces of speech and logic pulled each other toward a conclusion.

May.  

She mouthed the shape of the word, but managed to clamp down the desire to speak it aloud. It explained so much: May’s strange behaviour, her impossible computer literacy, and the perfect brain scan, available from her extremely thorough testing surrounding the Ghost incident. Simmons blanched. Would Robo-May have May’s priorities and relationships as well as skills? If not, Daisy could be in danger. Hopefully she’d realise fast enough and keep herself safe. And Fitz. And everyone else back at Base.

And what of May? Surely Aida must have known her propensity for survival and escape, if she had examined her in so much detail. Given Aida’s desire to keep everything contained – even killing Nathanson to avoid him finding this very room – Simmons could only think of two solutions to the question of May. The first was that she was dead. Plain and simple. The second? That she was alive. In both her heart and mind, Simmons favoured this one, and if she was right, with containment being the upmost priority, that meant May was somewhere within Aida’s reach at all times. Somewhere here.

“Doctor Simmons,” Aida beckoned. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

From the machinery she had constructed or uncovered a chair, and a headpiece draped in electric nodes like an elaborate EEG. Essentially, that’s what it was after all. Simmons put her knife on a bench, amongst a scattering of tools: if she needed to, she could grab at least a wrench or hammer instead. Slowly, fully aware that she was walking headfirst into danger, Simmons obeyed Aida’s invitation and sat down.

Her heart leapt into her throat at the sound of metal against metal, as cuffs from the armrests joined together over her wrists, locking her in place.

-

Fitz glowered, seething, as Radcliffe explained that he had not begun construction on the second phase, but that since he had spoken and written about it, Aida could be assumed to know of it. With plenty of knowledge at her disposal as well as her own schematics and – ‘if you and Miss Daisy are indeed correct about the book’ – an element of creativity and independence previously unknown to her, it was possible that Aida had constructed May.

“But May – Robo-May, I mean – she doesn’t have the Intelligence,” Daisy pointed out. “I mean, I don’t think so. The way she spoke, it was strange. She called me ‘Agent Johnson’ which is accurate but not what May would call me. If she had the knowledge and the ability to apply it properly, she would have called me Daisy, right?”

“Probably,” Fitz agreed. “Unless she wanted you to know she was a robot.”

“Why would she want that? She didn’t even seem to know she was one until she nearly ripped my arm off. Then it was all ‘does-not-compute’.”

Radcliffe laughed a little. “Funny, isn’t it, that Aida seems to have come to the same stop humanity has. Bestowing intelligence on machines is not as easy as it sounds. I feel a little better knowing not even an intelligent machine can pull it off.”

“I’d feel a little better if I hadn’t blown my cover.” Daisy groaned and shook her head, scolding herself. “I’m pretty sure she’s onto me. She knows I know, I’m sure of it – she’d only have to be one tenth as smart as May to catch that.”

“You did just nearly have your arm ripped off,” Fitz consoled her.

“Are you sure she knows?” Radcliffe suddenly sounded worried again. Daisy nodded pitifully.

“She bolted, then I bolted. There was mutual recognition of something super-weird. She might not be self-aware but she’s definitely aware of something.”

“Hm.” It was short. Thoughtful. Dismissive. Then Radcliffe hauled Daisy out of her seat, and shoved her and Fitz toward the Vault door.

“You have to get out of here,” Radcliffe insisted. “Aida’s mission is preservation but she may not have been able to translate that properly into the programming of the others – May, and whoever else is out there. I have a sneaking suspicion that poor Nathanson came across something he shouldn’t have, and now you have too, Miss Daisy. And if dear Jemma is following leads elsewhere, it’s likely she’s dug up something untoward by now. It seems Aida is willing to sacrifice an individual few in pursuit of the greater good – that being this project of hers, presumably - and it appears that you are now her top targets.”

[besidemethewholedamntime]

Hello again! ♥ I saw that video with the borking pup (so adorable!!) and thought if you are up for a prompt, could you maybe write a fic where Fitzsimmons adopt/rescue a puppy?? Some sort of stress relief for both of them :) thank you! ♥

here is it finally for you! I hope you like it and it’s everything you want - if it’s not okay please let me know and I’ll write something else!

(Okay, I know the start seems angsty but I promise it’s fluffy Fitzsimmons with a dog, I just find beginnings hard!)

—

Introducing Biscuit

(Read it here on Ao3) 

They haven’t been in their new house long when shebrings it up.

It’s quite a sudden longing, perhaps something to dowith just how empty their new houseappears to be with its seemingly endless corridors and bedrooms that theyaren’t quite ready to fill. It’s a longing that keeps her up at night, stomachaching with something that feels like ungratefulness. The guilt eats her alive,keeps her awake into the wee hours of the morning. How can this not be enough?How can simply being here, with Fitz, not be enough for her?

And maybe it’s because she got that glimpse atmotherhood, got a slither of what she could have in the future, that means shewill no longer be satisfied at anything other than that anymore. But theyaren’t ready, not yet. Too much has happened to simply let them dive into theidyllic quaint country life they have penned in for some date in the future.They agreed to take things in steps, and step one was quite simply just movingin.

That was over a month ago, now, and, ever restless,Jemma feels ready to take another one. Which is why, on one sunny as Scotlandcan be June morning, she awakes earlier than normal and makes breakfast beforecarrying it to Fitz in bed.

“Jemma?” He groans when she gently shakes him awakeHis hair is sticking out at odd angles and there are pillow marks on one sideof his face, clearly the mark of a good night’s sleep. Rubbing his eyes, hesits up. “What’s this for?” He narrows his eyes. “What do you want?”

“What? Me? Why would I want anything? Don’t beridiculous. Can’t a wife just make her husband breakfast in bed to be nice?”

Fitz narrows his eyes even more. “Maybe other wives can, but you certainly don’t. Notwithout good reason anyway.”

She gently angles the plate closer to him, hoping thescent of pancakes will distract him. “I’m just being nice. Celebrating the factthat we can have breakfast in bed without the possibility of the world endingin the next five minutes.”

Perhaps that was too low of her to go, because hiseyes soften and he places a hand over hers and oh there’s a familiar sting of tears at the back of her eyes. Themood was meant to be light but now it’s like the clouds have blocked the sunand she’s done with living in the dark.

Coughing, and then smiling, Jemma says, “Well,actually, there was something…”

“Bloody knew it.” Fitz’s triumphant grin parts the cloudsonce more.

Ignoring him, she continues, “How would you feel aboutgetting a dog?”

He looks at her curiously, as if he can’t decide ifshe’s serious or not. “As in a pet or as in one for you to ‘dissect’ for‘science’.” He actually adds in the air quotes, his cheeky grin suggesting he’swaiting for her to bite.

She doesn’t and sighs, rolling her eyes. “Ugh, Fitz,of course I mean a pet.”

“Just making sure. Remember the last time we had a‘pet’.”

“For the last time: it was delivered to the lab likethat!”

“Sure it was, Jemma. Sure it was.”

Throwing her hands up at the age-old argument, shefixes him with a withering look. “We did not kill the cat, Fitz.” A deep breathand a smile. “But anyway, back to the question. How would you feel aboutgetting a dog as a pet?”

“I think that would be a great idea. I’ve alwayswanted a dog, and we’ve definitely got the space for it.” Fitz makes histhinking face whilst chewing on a pancake. “Puppy or rescue?”

“Rescue,” Jemma answers immediately. “I mean it seemsthe right thing to do, doesn’t it?”

He smiles that soft smile that appears to be reservedonly for her. “Absolutely.”

-x-

They spend the hour and a half drive to DogsTrustarguing about what type of dog they’d like to get.

Jemma, balancing several folders on her knee, argues,“I’m just saying I don’t think we necessarily have size limitations if we takeinto account the size of the house, and the land we have is ample enough forexercise.”

Fitz takes his eyes from the road long enough to giveher a look of disbelief. “And all I’m saying is that we have to think of thecosts involved for a larger dog.”

“The adoption fee is £120 regardless of the size ofdog.”

“Yeah, I know that. I meant bigger dog means morefood, bigger bed, some kennels make you pay more for a larger dog. I mean whatif we wanted to go on holiday.”

“We’d figure it out, Fitz.”

He shoots her a short, worried glance. “Well thatdoesn’t sound like the Jemma Simmons I know.”

“Jemma FitzSimmons,actually,” she corrects, ignoring his actual statement.

The thing is, she did construct a cost analysis basedon each potential type of dog they could adopt. She looked at the spreadsheetsand compared them to all of her research on owning a dog and then never lookedat them again. It was one thing to be prepared, it was another thing to try andfit the dog they didn’t even own yet into her own preconceived idea of what itmight be like.

And with all of this starting over, maybe it’s time totry being someone new.

All of a sudden, they’re here and as Jemma looks atthe bright yellow sign and the unassuming building, she feels a nervoustightening in her gut.

Fitz parks up and reaches over to hold her hand.They’ve been in some truly frightening life or death scenarios, and yet this,this level of commitment that they’ve only ever had for each other, seems moreterrifying than anything.

“Well, Jemma Fitzsimmons, let’s go get a dog.”

-x-

“And this is Biscuit,” the volunteer announces,stopping in front of the last glass-fronted kennel in the row.

Jemma doesn’t see her at first, curled as she isamongst the blankets in her bed. When she notices people outside her kennel,she uncurls and runs up towards the door, tail wagging getting progressively fasteruntil it’s really just a white blur.

“Aww, she’s cute,” Fitz smiles, kneeling down on thefloor and talking nonsense to the dog who laps it up.

Jemma has to agree, Biscuit is very adorable. The signon her kennel door proclaims that she’s a Jack Russel and that she’s a year oldand that she likes sleeping and treats and dislikes loud noises. She’scompletely white expect for her ears which are a caramel colour, making themlook as though they’ve been stuck on. Jemma can’t help it, she laughs out loud.

Fitz turns around from his spot on the floor, asseemingly happy as the dog he’s been chatting up.  It’s been a while since Jemma’s seen him thishappy, this seemingly carefree. Biscuit has done more for him in two minutesthan she’s been able to do in a month and Jemma’s not even jealous. In fact,she’s rather relieved.

“Biscuit’s taken quite a shine to you there, Mr Fitz,”the volunteer laughs. “Can I assume that you’re both about to ask me to signsome paperwork?”

Jemma brings out her folder from her handbag. There’squestions in here, questions that she thought she needed to have answered toknow that whatever dog would be the right fit for them. She thought she’d needto know why the dog was given up, what were the pervious owners like, how werethey fed, did they like a certain type of lead to be walked on or a certainbowl to eat from. She thought she’d need to know everything in order to helprescue a dog that would become part of their family.

She was wrong. She doesn’t need to know anything of thekind. All she needs to know can be seen in the brightness of Fitz’s smile, thejoy in his voice as he calls Biscuit a smart girl.

Slowly, Jemma slides the folder back into her bag andsmiles to the volunteer.

“Yes, I think that was exactly what I was about todo.”

-x-

They’re sittingin the living room after dinner, mindlessly watching television in a way that’sbecome quite enjoyable. Jemma is researching how to take care of Jack RusselTerriers, and Fitz is doodling designs for a dog crate that’s sturdy butportable.

“Should we change her name?”

Jemma, not really paying attention because she’sengrossed in this article on positive reinforcement training, asks, “Changewhose name?”

“Biscuit’s name. Should we change it?”

She looks up from her laptop and over to Fitz whosepen is paused in mid-air as if the thought has just burst into his brain. Hisexpression of confusion, she imagines, mirrors hers.

“Oh, I don’t know. I know you can change a dog’s nameand it’s relatively easy.”

“Yeah,” he muses, “thought that. I know you can do it,just don’t know if we should.”

This all seems to be getting very deep for a talkabout whether or not to change the name of their new dog. Jemma cocks her headand opens and closes her mouth a few times, doing a remarkable impression of agoldfish. What does she say in this situation? What does she do?

To her utter relief Fitz laughs. “Relax, Jemma. It’sjust about the dog. I promise.”

Ohthank goodness but she doesn’t say that aloud, onlysmiles. “Well, about the dog. I don’t know, I suppose I quite like the nameBiscuit. It’s rather cute, I think.”

“Yeah, it suits her, doesn’t it? And it’s a food. Ilove food.”

Jemma snorts. “You certainly love biscuits.”

“Oh, did you get those Hobnobs ‘cause they were onoffer at Tesco and-”

The odd tangent makes her laugh because it’s so randomand so expected at the same time. “Yes, Fitz. I got you Hobnobs. Both types.”

“You’re the best.” But then his eyes take on that faraway look. “Biscuit Fitzsimmons.” He grins at her. “What do you think?”

There’s a relief deep down in her heart that surelyjust can’t be because their new addition is going to be named after one of hisfavourite foods. “It sounds absolutely perfect.”

-x-

Two weeks after their first visit, and after a homevisit and registering with a vet, finally they are able to pick up their latestaddition.

While Jemma is paying, they bring out Biscuit who runsto Fitz as if she’s seeing her best-friend after an age. Or she tries to run to Fitz – the volunteer hasher on the standard DogsTrust harness and lead and it prohibits Biscuit fromrunning to Fitz as fast as she clearly would have liked.

“Biscuit, heel.” The volunteer commands in a clippedtone and the dog begrudgingly returns to her side. The woman gives Biscuit atreat and then smiles at the both of them. “You’re the Fitzsimmonses here forBiscuit, right?” The dog barks as in agreement and the volunteer laughs.“Clearly I didn’t even need to ask the two of you; this girl’s already made upher mind who she’s going home with.”

“She has that,” Fitz affirms. “So that’s it then? Wecan just take her home now?”

“Yup, you can. Here’s a bag of her stuff from her oldhome, along with things she’s managed to acquire here.” The volunteer handsthem a carrier bag. “You have your folder, right?”

“Yup,” Jemma says, holding out the adoption folder shewas given. “We need to give these details to her new vet.”

“That’s right.” The volunteer hands the lead to Fitz.“Well I suppose it’s time to say goodbye then, girl, isn’t it?” She rubs Biscuit’shead affectionately and then smiles at them once more. “Enjoy your new dog! Anyproblems and please phone us if you have any issues at all.” She glances towhere Fitz has picked up Biscuit who is now licking his face. “Though I feellike you’ll be absolutely fine.”

Jemma thanks her and turns to her husband and her dog,feeling rather like a third wheel on their private moment.

“Well then, I suppose it’s time to go home.”

Biscuit’s ears perk up and Jemma laughs.

“Yes, you’re coming home with us.” She rubs Biscuit’shead and the dog begins to lick her hand in a way that seems to suggest she’seager for Jemma to know that she’s loved too.

The volunteer appears to be right so far. Absolutelyfine.

-x-

The first night cannot exactly be described as ‘absolutelyfine’.

As eager to come home with them as she was, Biscuitappears to have acquired some ‘leaving kennel’ anxiety.

Jemma knew about this. She read about this andprepared for it by setting up Biscuit’s crate in the living room with the TV onlow volume so the poor puppy wouldn’t be in total silence in her first nightalone. She knew that the dog might whine and cry. It just doesn’t make it anyeasier to listen too.

It’s two in the morning and they’re both awake, bothcompletely not enjoying the howls of poor little Biscuit coming up fromdownstairs.

“Jemma,” Fitz whispers, “are you awake?”

“Yes,” she whispers back. “It’s such a shame; I wishthere was something we could do.”

“Are you sure we couldn’t…?”

“You know we can’t, Fitz. All of the websites wereclear on this,” she says, putting to rest once again a question that’s alreadypopped up three times in the period since they’ve left Biscuit on her own.

“I know but she sounds so sad.”

“It’s better for her in the long run.” Jemma wonderswho she’s trying to convince here.

Eventually, she falls asleep, more out of sheerexhaustion than any immunity against the pitiful cries. But a few hours laterthey awaken her again. Fitz is sleeping beside her, clearly having succumbed tosleep the same way as her.

As stealthily as possible, she swings out of bed andtiptoes downstairs. Biscuit, hearing a noise, ramps up the howling.

“Shh, it’s alright. It’s just me,” Jemma soothes,coming into the room. Biscuit is at the door of her crate, tail wagging madly atthe familiar person. When Jemma opens the door, she rushes at her, nuzzlinginto her and making soft noises.

“Oh dear, what a state you’ve gotten yourself into,”Jemma murmurs, feeling the dog quiver beneath her fingers. She sighs, knowingthere’s really only one option for the night.

“Fine,” she relents. “Come on. You can come and sleepin our room. But only for tonight.”

And gathering the dog in her arms, along with some ofher blankets from the kennel, she brings her upstairs and arranges her on ablanket and pillows on the floor at the foot of their bed.

“I’m sorry but I do draw the line at you sleeping onthe bed.”

Finally, Jemma is able to have a blissful sleepunaccompanied by a soundtrack of cries.

In the morning she awakes to a strange weight in themiddle of her and Fitz and finds Biscuit curled up asleep with one of her blankets,snoring softly.

-x-

This little dog in such a short space of time becomes everythingto them.

The house never feels empty, not anymore, becauseBiscuit loves exploring almost everywhere she can get into. She loves toexplore the surrounding fields, is especially a fan of the river that bisectsthe woods nearby. It turns out she loves the rain (which is just as well,really, because this is Perth and it’s wet even on sunny days) and jumps inmuddy puddles whenever she can.

But this little dog makes Fitz smile more carefreethan he has in years, He laughs with her, plays fetch and looks back to Jemmaas bright as the sun. This little dog brings out a side in him that she had fearedhad been lost to him forever. A side she thinks he was afraid he’d lostforever.

Biscuit is by all intents and purposes a ‘rescue dog’.All of her records now say that she is. Except Jemma knows that it wasn’t them whorescued Biscuit.

As she launches aball across a field and watches as Fitz races the dog to retrieve it, she knowswithout a doubt that it was really Biscuit who rescued them.