#i have four muses set in stone with a few i want to test out

[enby-mori]

I want to set up my rp blog again.

[hes-writer]

Halo

Summary: y/n feels guilty for missing harry

Warnings: angst, slight fluff, mentions of vomiting and nausea, mentions of implied smut

Word Count: 7648 words

A/N: @devilinbetweenthesheet-s : don’t cheat and don’t do drugs, kids.

inspired by one of my anons. some parts are real and some parts aren’t :)

Tarnish (1)  .  Halo (2) .  Reign (3) . 

Reign Taglist 

___

When the relationship ended, Y/N imagined being bed-ridden. A lack of motivation to do anything casual such as standing. Watching the television seemed to be a task that required all of her energy and full-attention to be able to understand the subtitles on the screen. Her friends would knock continuously on her door to be met with no response because she was asleep or Y/N couldn’t be bothered with pitiful conversation asking her if she was okay. She would be too tempted to ask how Harry was doing when she could easily pull out her phone and search his name in a few quick taps. These used to be easy; as easy as breathing and loving Harry was easier than loving herself.

How was he doing? Y/N hoped that Harry was regretting his actions. She was yearning for the vibration of her phone to restart her heart like an AED stuck to her chest, sending her pulses to remember that they were not what they used to be. Or maybe the snippy ringtone Y/N had set specifically for him and only him would ring through the air as she wallowed in a burrito blanket. Frankly too emotionally worn out to even move an inch as she watched her phone face down on the bedside table of her new apartment.

Life doesn’t wait until Y/N is capable of being back on her feet before thundering down with the foundations of living. Five days into the breakup did she realize that the money she had saved up would be spent faster than she can replace it if she stayed any longer at the hotel near the heart of downtown. It was a spur of the moment decision to ‘treat herself’; she thought she deserved it after being called names and thrown aside like a used toy. And on the fifth day, she was on the lookout for places to live in as she adjusted to her new life without Harry.

It wasn’t like Y/N was completely dependent on him. She had a well-paying job; just not as good as his. And she could afford a nice apartment, just not as nice as his mansion. Nor did it have the same toasty feeling that enveloped her when she walked through the doors. Y/N told herself that she would give it a few months; that maybe it was just the change in setting that misplaced every bone in her body because everything she did felt off. Deep down, Y/N knew that things weren’t the same without him. She could either live a life reminiscing how she--they--used to do things or she could change and adapt to this ball thrown at her.

The decision was in her hands, yet she hesitated with every gambling thought crossing her mind. On one hand, she was used to a routine. It was a routine that never got boring to her, solely because Harry found a way to make things interesting; refreshing. On the other, Y/N would be in a never-ending comparison of how much she missed him or pat her shoulders because she was able to compromise the old parts of her that existed when Harry was around and to integrate it with a new version that was wary of anybody getting close to her.

The challenge was not easy when the media got hold of the news. It seemed as if everywhere Y/N went---mixed reactions and judgement attacked her with doe eyes offering the best of luck or disgusted snickers telling that she deserved it and that they--Camille and Harry--were perfect for each other. But when Y/N quite literally was carrying a piece of him and her inside her stomach did she step up to what she had to become to raise her baby.

It seemed like yesterday when Y/N stared at her reflection in the en-suite bathroom of Harry’s home, pinching at a subtle layer of fat that she was sure wasn’t there a few days ago. Bloated cheeks that added a fullness to her face were substituted as the result of a bright smile plastered on her face because she Harry had pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before she left for work that day. The sudden aversion to fragrant foods she absolutely adored flew right over her head and excused as a bad batch.

And the most painful memory was the day Harry and Y/N’s relationship ended. The beginning of something new, something beautiful was right under their noses. Y/N wondered what could have happened if she didn’t find the letter. When the symptoms of pregnancy became more obvious each day; would Harry notice the change in her physique? The crinkle of her nose when met with a sandwich containing pickles that she used to love?

Y/N couldn’t help but envision holding the stick with a tiny ‘+’ pixelated by dark colours. Sitting on the closed toilet seat as she contemplated delivering the news to him in the early hours of the morning after she was awoken by a flush of morning sickness. Y/N daydreamed about watching his sleeping face smooth out of any lines as he dreamed peacefully and wondered if this was still a part of what he wanted with her. Maybe she would jostle him gently, rousing him with a poke as she kneeled on his side of the bed, flailing the pregnancy test between her fingers until he blinked the sleep out of his waterline. Harry would present her a doozy smile before realizing what she held--to which he would sit up faster than he had ever done, gazing at her with a pleading stare. For Y/N to confirm that yes, she was pregnant. Yes, they were going to have a baby and yes, Harry was going to be a father. A little family in the works.

But that daydream was reeled in like a fishing hook in grave waters as reality grounded her. She was apparently two months into her pregnancy when Y/N had mistaken the sickness as an inevitable reaction to finding out his infidelity. Hearing him say the term of endearment as if he had not used it with another person made Y/N want to grab him by the shoulders to hold a steady contact, jostling him until answers spilled out of his mouth. Answers that Y/N deemed justifiable but was there ever a good excuse for cheating? She wanted to strip him out of the apologies filling his mouth and get straight to the question of why he had done it. But even then, Y/N knew that there was no way she was going to be satisfied with his answers. It was just a matter of her accepting that the idea of ‘what could have been’ would live inside her head because she was the only one that knew about the life inside of her.

Harry had not made an effort to speak to her besides arranging the dates to pick up her things. She had to wear large clothes to hide her growing belly because Y/N wasn’t sure if she even had the right to tell him something so personal anymore. It fit well with the narrative that she was a depressed homebody that craved the touch of his fingertips on her skin, the taste of his lips on her tongue and the weight of his arms around her. Albeit that he was the father, Harry had obviously moved on way before they ended; a little over a year ago now to be precise.

Y/N was almost one-hundred percent sure that Harry had blocked her number. Scratch that, she was certain if the way her messages failed to send were anything to go by. She could handle seeing the handle of ‘read’ on the bottom of a message because at least she’d know that Harry did read it and that he was aware. But watching the encircled, crimson exclamation point appear was just another reminder that he planned to erase four years from his life to start anew.

____

So what if at four months, Y/N was attending another doctor’s appointment by herself, trying to amount to as little attention as possible? Well, today was the day that she was going to find out the baby’s gender. Her bump was definitely noticeable now and extremely uncomfortable especially sitting on a plastic, grey chair in the waiting room. The device in her hand felt like stone perceiving the icon of blaring red that indicated yet another failed message to the contact previously named ‘My Love’, now to just ‘Harry’.

Y/N: I’m finding out the gender of our baby today

Y/N: I’m hoping for a girl but either way, I just want the baby to be healthy.

“Y/N? Dr. O’Sullivan is ready to see you,” The nurse clad in scrubs walked out with a clipboard gripped in her hands.

Y/N stood up, pausing to retrieve her items. She took a breath before entering the room, catching sight of the doctor in his stereotypical white coat focused on the computer screen that showed her information.

“You know what to do. Good luck today,” The nurse mused, handing her a folded hospital gown to change into as she pointed towards the direction of the room with a little nook to change privately. After struggling a bit with pulling off her top, Y/N tied the strings of the hospital gown.

“Hi, Y/N. How are you today?” He asked, standing up to gather the items he would need. Y/N made herself comfortable on the small bed, the white paper crinkling as her weight shifted.

She sighed deeply, “I’m alright. Really excited, actually,” A grin appeared on her face with just how close she was to find out the gender of the baby, “How about you?”

“Good as always,”

Connor O’Sullivan was the name of the doctor. They met when Y/N was in search of the top-tier family doctor’s around the city and instantly had a connection. He had a trustworthy aura that Y/N deemed acceptable to guide her to a healthy pregnancy. A friendship had definitely blossomed around the doctor-patient boundary but they stayed within their limits. Inside jokes existed but it had never crossed the line. And sure, touches to the shoulder happened once in a while but nothing had escalated further.

Y/N’s baby bump was exposed to the cool room. She shivered when a gloved hand applied the gel on her taut skin. Stretch marks were littering the sides of her tummy. It was itchy and uncomfortable. However, it was tolerable especially after applying a combination of creams and oil to soothe the ache. It was also another reminder that she really was about to become a mother.

“Cold?” Connor teased with an easy smile. Y/N rolled her eyes upwards in response, “You’re the doctor here,”

He chuckled, directing her attention to the small screen beside them. The static fizz of black and white slowly morphing to a more discernible image as he attached the device to her skin, finding the perfect angle to produce a clear picture. The first time Y/N saw her little baby; it was the size of a lemon. The next couple of visits showed progression in their growth; tiny baby feet, stubby legs, and sprouting fingers could be seen on the ultrasound.

They looked more and more like a proper baby now--like the ones one would see in the clinics and Y/N really couldn’t believe that she was about to find out their gender. Y/N couldn’t tell just by inspecting the picture because of her lack of expertise.

“You’re having a. . .” Connor began, edging his voice at the last word. He wiggled his brows as Y/N’s eyes widened.

She balled her fists, “Oh, hell. Just spit it out, C,”

“A girl. You’re having a little girl,” He peered up at the patient, watching tears fill the brim of her waterline as she gasped, palming her slightly open mouth.

“A-a girl?” Y/N craned her head to look at the square image, blurrier because of the tears but beautiful nonetheless. “I can’t believe I’m having a girl,”

The doctor wiped the gel off of her tummy with a cloth, switching off the machine as he waited for another reaction out of her. Y/N tossed her legs to the side, putting on her slip-on vans to fully-comprehend the news. “I’m having a baby girl,”

Connor nodded, releasing an ‘oomph’ at a sudden pressure around his middle. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, feeling the tube of his stethoscope dangling against her cheek. Her lashes fluttered, happy tears streaming out. He returned the gesture with soft rubs on her lower back.

“I’m sorry, I’m so emotional,” Y/N pulled away with a huff, using her fingertips to rub the wetness towards her temple. “I’m so happy but I just wished that he was--,” She cut herself off, pursing her lips as an image of Harry carrying their baby appeared in her head.

“I understand, Y/N.” Connor mirrored her distraught expression as he really did feel sorry for Y/N. However, he couldn’t explain the extra twinge in his heart at seeing her frown over a lost love. “You’re doing great on your own,”

She sighed for possibly the tenth time that day, “We both wanted to name her Halo if it’s a girl or Arlo if it’s a boy. It reminds me of what an angel she will be,”

“Wait until she gets older,” Connor joked to lighten the mood, receiving a glimmer from Y/N. “What d’ya say you get changed and I’ll print out this ultrasound, sounds good? A few more months then we can meet baby Halo,”

Halo.

___

Harry’s relationship with Camille was a dream. It was everything he imagined, maybe even better. The first time they dabbled on getting together was four years ago, before Y/N was even around in his life. There could be so many things right about a relationship and it could still be wrong. Maybe it wasn’t the right place, the right time, or they simply had too many disagreements and flaws that both parties were unwilling to work it to make them--work.

Usually, the third time would be a charm but Harry felt that he and Camille didn’t need a third time. As he said, the past couple of months felt like a dream. He could close his eyes and still feel the soft skin of the woman he loves grazing his fingertips. He couldn’t help but transpire into a new chapter of their love; one where it wasn’t just them tumbling in the sheets. When the squeals in the kitchen while making breakfast were paired with pleads for whipped cream on their pancakes; a child.

Harry was old enough to know what he wanted--at least, he thought he was--and a family was in his books. He finally found a partner who had the same mindset in their future; Camille. At first, he was absolutely sure that Y/N could not be erased from; but her name wasn't set in stone and once he found someone better--no way in hell was he going to let that be a missed opportunity.

__

Camile sighed softly, laying on Harry's bare chest as he pulled the sheets over their clammy bodies. Their orgasms settled in their veins, the rush and panting breaths calming down with each blink of an eye.

With her finger swirling patterns on his skin, Harry stared at the ceiling in hesitant contemplation, “Babe, have you ever thought of getting off the pill?” She paused.

“Uh, sure, but then we would have to use a condom?” Her voice raised at the end in curiosity.

Harry released an awkward chuckle, gently swivelling her body off of him so he could sit up. Reaching over, his fingers found the flip of the light switch that turned the bedside lamp on. He smiled at her appearance, mirroring his stance as she sat on the bed, a sheet clung around her body.

He shook his head, “No, no. No condoms, no pills and, y’know. . .”

The confusion was evident on Camille’s features, “I don’t exactly understand what you’re trying to say, H--,’

“‘M asking if y’wanna try for a baby, love.’

Silence overtook the room. Harry held his breath in his throat, seemingly trying to swallow down the lump that had formed because of her lack of response. She cleared her throat.

“A baby?” Harry nodded with excitement despite the flat tone whipping past her lips. “I--don’t know how to say this, Harry. I’ve never wanted kids.”

His face fell, the words lingering around his head like a flock of birds. The dizzying epiphany rattled his head clear of any other thoughts besides the fact that there was a hole in his book; burnt and toasted with sparks inkling his skin.

“W-why not?” His palms fell flat on the silky sheets, fisting the fabric to keep him settled. “A mini you and a mini-me running around the house. Won’t that be fun, baby? Don’t you want that?”

It almost hurt Camille to see the grin plastered on his face, hopeful eyes practically begging her to change her mind. But she couldn’t.

“Harry, that part will be fun. What won’t be fun is getting huge, morning sickness, weird cravings, hormonal imbalance, the aftermath of labour, the sleepless nights, the puke, the changing diapers, the back pain, the headaches, the fights when they’re older and so much more” Her accent rippled with each explanation rejecting the idea.

Harry huffed, crossing his arms subconsciously to shield himself, “But it’ll be worth it,”

“It won’t be,” Camille scooted closer to him, situating herself on her knees so that she could look into his eyes clearly. “Look, I made up my mind ages ago and I thought you felt the same since you haven’t settled down yet”

“I was jus’ lookin’ for the right person,” His head dipped down, dropping his gaze their intertwined hands. “It’s gonna’ be okay, Cam. We can make it work. We’ll have our own family. We’ll be okay,”

She shook her head in refusal, “It will be okay for you, H.” Harry could feel her hands itching to slip past his. He held her tighter. He didn’t want to lose her. “You can get back to work immediately. I’m a model and it takes time to lose weight. Even when I do--I won’t look the same. It’ll take me months, if not years to even resemble my present body.

“I don’t care how your body looks. You’re still gonna’ look amazing. You think I won’t love you after birthing our little baby?” With brows pressed together, he pouted his lip in curiosity as she rolled her eyes.

Camille sighed exasperatedly, “I don’t want children, Harry. The sooner you understand that the better. It’s MY body. I’ll be carrying the kid around for 9 months. No thank you.” She stood up, stumbling slightly as the sheets tangled around her feet.

He followed suit. His height towered over her as she crouched down to collect the pieces of clothing strewn around haphazardly in a rush to have each other. “But it’ll be MY baby, Cam. OUR baby, don’t you want that?”

Fingernails dug into the skin of her palm, holding her clothes as she spoke, “I don’t, Harry. Why can’t you just accept that?”

In the heat of the moment, Harry couldn’t help but quell the ache in his chest with a memory he thought he had thrown away, “Because Y/N and I planned to have a family. A-and I thought you and I could have one too,”

Camille huffed, keeping her distance. She walked to the bathroom, “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have fucking cheated on her then,”

___

His fight with Camille left the both of them on edge, barely able to handle the thick tension surrounding the house. Even though she took refuge in the bedroom and Harry wandered to the kitchen to cool off; it was impossible for them to stay in one place without having another argument.

Harry didn’t mean to let the memory slip past his lip. He hated it when he found himself comparing his past relationships to his current one. He felt that there was no need to do so, especially when the point of all of it was to start anew. Harry guessed that his desire to have a family was too powerful to keep his thoughts in check. The ache bubbling in his chest rose to a boil with each rejection that Camille answered with.

It wasn’t like he didn’t respect her decision. He really did. But Harry didn’t know if he was going to be happy being with her without progressing into something more through the years. What he was asking from her is just as difficult as what she was asking from him. Camille didn’t want to have children and Harry didn’t want to not have kids. There was no room for compromise if they both, mutually, wanted to respect each other's' decisions’ to the absolute fullest. However, the chances of him living a content life were zero to none.

And that was how Harry ended up at a bar, alone, at nine o’clock in the evening. They were invited by his friend, Kora, to a birthday celebration. Harry was reaching the limit of his threshold having to fake a smile and a chuckle while saying, “Camille’s feelin’ a bit sick tonight. ‘S just me,”

The thing with this celebration was that Kora was initially Y/N’s friend. He and Kora had become close friends while he was with Y/N and he guessed that that was the reason why he was invited. Although, it made him wonder why one of Y/N’s best friends invited him when she was aware of what happened between them. Surely, there was no way that Kora would invite Y/N, Harry, and Camille to the same crowded space, would she?

The sudden nervousness swirling at the pit of his stomach came with a quick neck as Harry scanned each premise of the bar. It was difficult considering the dim lighting and endless amounts of heads moving against each other. He hoped to see Y/N; just to see how she was doing! But he also felt like puking the alcohol he consumed because--as much as he wanted to admit it or not--he missed her.

After a half-hour of being vigilant, Harry willed himself to relax by the counter. Leaning one elbow on the wood as he spoke to another person regarding his upcoming album.

‘Yeah, yeah. It’s goin’. ‘M really excited for it cause’ I’ve got a lot of inspiration for some reason,” Harry answered with unyielding precision.

“We both know where that came fro--Oh hi! Sorry, H. Gotta check in on, Johnny,”

He rolled his eyes under closed lids, sipping on his drink, eyeing Kora when he heard a quip of Y/N’s name. Harry inconspicuously moved closer to her, making sure that he didn’t catch her attention.

“You’re not here,” Kora yelled with a whine to her tone. Her drunk self was still coherent enough to embark on the bartender to make another drink for her. However, Harry guessed that her senses were obscured with the way she yelled through the phone despite it being held to her ear and the function tapped to ‘speaker’.

“I know. I’m sorry. I promise to make it up to you, Kora,” Y/N’s gentle chuckle rumbled through the speaker, making Harry smile. It was the first time he heard it in a while. He sometimes wondered if he had the right to feel relieved when Harry was the one that blocked her number in the first place.

“It’s my birthday! Why aren’t you here drinking with us?” Kora quietly thanked the bartender.

Harry’s curiosity spiked; why wasn’t Y/N here tonight?

“It’s because I’m pregnant, silly. Can’t really do that when I’ve got a bubba in my tummy,” Both women giggled, Kora, making a sound of acknowledgement, “Ohhh right!”

He really wished that he would have stuck by long enough to hear more of their conversation but Kora’s boyfriend was approaching her and he wasn’t in the mood to discuss anything if he was honest.

She moved on fast, Harry thought. He was definitely sounding like an entitled jerk. Hear him out though; Harry was happy with Camille. Yes, he had been cheating on Y/N for a whole year and yes, she had to find out through a letter but Y/N was pregnant.

Did she really move on that quickly?

___

Despite the guilt gnawing at her for missing her best friend Kora’s birthday, Y/N was also looking forward to getting some sleep. It was a couple of hours after their phone call together when the nauseating tightening of Y/N’s chest woke again and had been for the past three days.

It was a horrible feeling that spread from the confines of her stomach. The bile rising up from her throat that left a burning feeling from the acids that escaped her mouth as she quickly threw the covers away from her legs, running towards the direction of her bathroom where she emptied the remnants of her stomach from last night’s craving of pickles and hot Cheetos. Her chest heaved with exertion as she draped her arms over the white porcelain of the disinfected toilet, hunching over as her stomach seemingly pumped away toxins.

Y/N wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, visibly shuddering as she pointed a finger to flush the toilet. She had a feeling that she won’t be getting any more sleep despite the time being three o’clock in the morning. Halo was insistent on staying up past normal bedtime hours. Y/N sighed, walking lethargically towards the dresser to retrieve her phone before heading to the living room nearby.

Y/N: You up, doc?

The blue loading bar swooped to the right as Y/N sent a message to Connor. She was at the peak of her pregnancy and her due date was occurring within a few weeks. A lot had changed since the day she found out the gender of her baby. Between the emotional trauma of having been broken up with--the hard-hitting fact was that Y/N was pushed into a direction of pregnancy that wasn’t exactly her ideal path. She pretty much preferred the dream-like sequence of having Harry accompanying her to her ultrasounds.

Just as Y/N was about to delve into another imaginary scenario of Harry sending her cute baby onesies that he would absolutely need to purchase for their little one, the humming of her phone pulled her from drowning in pathetic wishes and desires.

Connor: What’s up, Y/N?

She jutted her lips as she typed out a response. Contemplating whether or not to send the message as Y/N’s thumb hovered over the arrow, she paused to wonder why she was feeling so guilty in texting another man months and antecedent her break up with Harry. He was happy with someone else, yet Y/N felt as if her feet were planted in a puddle of sticky glue; unable to move on from the life she built in her head. Although it hurt to admit that Harry only existed in her memories now, reminiscing the spoken words they have discussed was another stab to her already bruised heart.

Y/N: Halo’s keeping me up again..

Connor: Want me to come over?

To keep you company

The reply was instantaneous and she could not deny the flutter of her heart beating subtly despite the extremities it had endured. And Y/N couldn’t help but notice the jitter of her baby bump morphing a plump bulge where Halo had kicked it as if it was a stamp of approval of the man coming over.

It wasn’t the first time that Connor drove to her place at the brink of dawn to keep her company in case the sickness became too much for Y/N to handle. The first time was simply a desperate action because she was rattled by the sudden spike in dizziness and incoherence of her sickness that Y/N wasn’t confident in herself to handle it alone. Times after that were more for his comfort when Connor said that he would ‘rather be safe than sorry’ while he rubbed his palm up and down her back.

Minutes later, a knock on her door sounded, forcing Y/N to haul her plump body to the comfort of the sofa, pausing the rerun of a television show. She waddled towards the entrance, the fit of her pyjama waistband snuggly wrapping around her mid-belly. A stretch of skin exposed between her bottoms and her tank top.

“Hi, thank you for coming,” Y/N greeted shyly, widening the door to let Connor in as he chuckled, toeing off his shoes by the closet door.

He waved her off, “It’s no problem, really,” Connor assisted her back to her couch, aiding her by letting his hands stabilize in the air in case anything happened.

The moment their bottoms hit the cushions did Y/N realize the gravity of the guilt spiralling in her chest. Connor laughed softly, his back resting on the couch with his right arm resting on the top, fingertips barely brushing over her shoulder. He reached over the coffee table to obtain the bowl of freshly popped popcorn, picking one to munch on but not before looking over at Y/N.

“Want some?”

She snapped out of her daze, cheeks heating profusely at being caught blatantly staring at how Connor fit naturally into her home both physically and metaphorically. He couldn’t have appeared at a better time when Y/N not only needed medical assistance and a support group by her side. However, she asked herself if he could be anything more than a friend. She shook her head ‘no’.

“No thanks. I’m quite full,” Y/N pressed a palm to her belly when a kick halted her breath. ‘Okay maybe a little,” She rolled her eyes, scolding Halo. “She’s a hungry one,”

“I’m gonna pop some more popcorn, kay? Be right back,”

Y/N heaved a sigh, watching Connor’s retrieving figure. Her admiration was cut off by the ringing of her phone.

___

Harry wasn’t so sober when he opened the door to his car. He wasn’t in his right mind either when he unblocked Y/N’s number and tapped on her name, switching the screen as it rang. He threw his head back against the headrest, biting his lip when the dial tone rang and rang.

“Hello?”

Harry’s breath hitched, losing his voice momentarily before his slowed brain caught up to move his tongue.

“Y/N? It’s Harry,” He spoke quietly, “Don’t hang up. Hear me out,” His ears stretched to pick up the click of a dropped call but he didn’t hear any.

“Heard from Kora that y’were pregnant, yeah? And I was wondering, whose is it?” The venom in his voice dripped. His drunken stupor rendered him unable to grasp reality.

“I’m not answering that,” Y/N’s tone was firm and direct. Harry could imagine her pursing her lips inwards.

“Why not? Scared that y’gonna have to admit that everything you put on was an act? How can y’move on so fast and give me shit about it?” The parking lot was filled with cars yet Harry could see that he was the only one currently occupying one. If there was a better metaphor of feeling alone in a crowded place; then he would love to hear it.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Harry? You cheated on me! You slept with another woman while we were together. You loved another woman while we were together. For an entire year, you lied to me and deceived me,”

“Jus’. . .answer the question,” He pinched his nose bridge, a headache pounding from the bottom of his skull.

“How dare you speak to me this way? You have no right calling me up out of nowhere,” Y/N lowered the volume of her voice, “and asking all these ridiculous questions,”

“S’not ridiculous,”

She gave a smile to Connor who entered the room with a bowl of delicious smelling popcorn. Y/N clutched the phone to her chest. Connor situated his body beside her with a glimmering smile, his mouth twitching as he eyed her bump, “Can I talk to her?” A gentle question breezed past his lips, moving closer when Y/N gave him approval.

The man kneeled down on the floor, leaning his head downwards to speak to Halo, “Hey little one, y’gotta be nice to momma, okay?” His fingers waved when her feet kicked out. Connor looked up to Y/N with a proud smile, “Did you see that? She responded!”

___

Harry felt his heart clench as a new voice filled the speakers. His neurons were fried with each thought firing endlessly, “Who’s that?

“Don’t call me again,”

The dial tone rung in his ears, echoing in the quiet space of his Range Rover.

___

Pressing the power button for a few seconds, the device turned black and was left on the arm of the couch. The excitement in Connor’s voice brought a dreamy smile to Y/N’s face, chewing on some popcorn. The beating of her heart seemed to double at the sight of him being so thrilled with her baby.

“We can’t wait to see you. I bet you’re gorgeous,” Connor dropped his volume to a whisper to prevent Y/N from hearing, ‘’Like your mom,”

Y/N’s relaxed and comfortable state of mind mindlessly worked her hands to thread the hair on top of Connor’s head. Just like she used to do to Harry. Her expression dimmed at the thought, painting a faint simper when Connor looked at her in surprise before shrugging it off, continuing to talk to her bump. She shivered when a warm pair of lips attached to the skin of her stomach. Gentle pressure planting a kiss as Connor said his goodbyes to baby Halo.

“She’s a smart one, that much I can tell,” He confirmed, moulding his body to the lingering shape he had left behind in his previous position. And Y/N was flustered to say that she might have scooched a little closer to his body, snuggling her head at the junction of his shoulder.

“Can I?” She asked, doe eyes raising a question that would allow them to cross the boundary they had limited themselves to. He nodded reflexively as if he was awaiting this moment. Connor took the initiative to pull Y/N closer to him, subconsciously kissing the top of her head. The scent of the woman’s shampoo wafting through his nose and invading his senses in a sweet smell that he would gladly immerse himself to.

It was the most pleasant feeling for Y/N to completely let go of her former worries about starting anew when Connor was as cozy as a heater. He made Y/N feel safe and secure with his body shielding her and his actions hinting at a subdued attraction he hadn’t fully shown to her.

And Connor was proud of himself for not quite literally freaking out when Y/N smothered her face to his chest as time passed and the sun rays filtered through the blinds as she fell asleep. Her words mumbled in a jumbled mess about how she wished that morning sickness wasn’t called morning sickness.

It wasn’t totally accurate, she complained. She thought that it was a misleading name; catfishing perhaps. He had chuckled in response, tracing his fingers up and down her arm and feeling goosebumps rise on her skin.

The orange hue of the bright star painting the sky lighter and lighter until the pitch-black sight morphed into a mixture of shades that could only be described as beautifully grandiose--just like Y/N’s sleeping face when the sun casts a shadow to highlight her nose, scrunching with the slight graze of the back of Connor’s finger rubbing the tip. Or the way the luminescence caressed the apples of her cheeks where her lashes rested, mouth puffing breaths of air as she allowed herself to be vulnerable for the first time in months.

___

A heavy feeling had settled into Harry's chest after Y/N hung up the phone. The new voice he had heard had unmistakably been a man's. Who was he? Was Y/N having that man's baby?

Before he could help it, Harry was seething. He saw red, and if he were in a children's movie there would be steam coming out of his ears right about now. How dare she move on so fast? How could she have a baby with another man so soon? But when he thought about it; Harry couldn't even recall how long it had been since they'd broken up. It made him feel somewhat guilty. He hadn't meant to forget her. It had just happened.

His guilt soon manifested into frustration-- her being pregnant was a constant reminder that she had moved on with another man. Insecurity clawed at his insides- did he really mean that little to her? 'You cheated on her', his conscience pricked, but he brushed away the thought. He hated being reminded of his infidelity to his fiancée.

His defence mechanism kicked in like clockwork, using aggression to shield his insecurities. He opened his messages app and clicked her contact, typing drunkenly.

Harry: 'Your a whore'

'You're*'

'Diid yu cheat on me? I bet youu did'

'Do u sleepp arond a loot?'

'fck u'

He smiled smugly at his phone screen, satisfied with what he had sent her. He shut his phone off, and started his car, ready to drive back home. He knew he was being irresponsible, but between his current girlfriend not wanting a child and his ex being pregnant with one; he couldn't bring himself to care. He drove himself home, only to find a terribly worried Camille waiting for him to arrive.

He glanced at the huge clock on the wall behind her. 1:32 am. He shrugged his shoulders and brushed past her to their bedroom. In his drunken gait, he knocked over a metal tray. The loud 'clang' made him hiss and clutch his temples, a headache pounding in his skull.

Camille sighed and made her way over to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and muttering a "come here, H" Despite his sour mood, he found himself craving affection. What he wouldn't admit was that he didn't crave Camille's affection in particular. He just wanted to be held and feel safe in someone's arms. Anyone's arms. But despite himself, he mumbled, "m'sorry I left like tha'. Should'nt 've spoken to ya that way,"

She nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "It's okay, Harry, you're back home now. C'mon, let's get you changed and then let's sleep."

He bobbed his head up and down, willingly letting her drag him up the stairs to their shared bedroom, "Love ya,” Camille helped him out of his trousers.

She smiled softly, "Love you too, mon Cheri,” He giggled drunkenly at the showcase of her accent.

___

Harry woke up with a pounding headache, whining as his alarm rang at eight am in the morning. He opened his eyes to see that Camille wasn't in bed with him. His lips fell into a pout because of waking up alone.

There was a note on the bedside table.

'got called in for an emergency meeting for the show next week. be home by 5pm. love you!'

He sighed and reached for the glass of water she had left him. His brows furrowed when he didn't see Ibuprofen next to the water. Y/N left him ibuprofen beside the glass of water. Always. Harry snapped himself out of his daze, reprimanding himself for even thinking about her. Why is he thinking about her?

__

After a hot shower, Harry made his way downstairs to make himself breakfast. 'Eggs and toast', he thought. Placing 2 eggs in water and setting it on the stove before loading the toaster. He looked mindlessly through the drinks in the fridge, settling on 'Organic Orange Juice'. Y/N had introduced him to this particular brand after he had complained that all the others had too much sugar to be 'healthy'.

___

"This has no added sugar, H," she mentioned, "They sweeten it with honey."

___

Harry groaned, snapping himself out of the daydream, ashamed for thinking about his ex. Again.

He placed his breakfast on a plate and poured himself a glass of juice, sitting at the dining table alone. He chewed slowly with a mouthful as he unlocked his phone, beginning to go through his notifications.

Camille sent him a text. It was a selfie of her at her meeting, smiling and holding up a peace sign. He mirrored the expression, sending a text back

Harry: "stop being so cute"

He clicked the ‘back’ icon.

The second he does, his heart positively skips a beat. Not in a good way, either. Y/N's contact was just below Camille's, suddenly remembering the nasty things he had texted her the previous night.

"Fuck," He whispered under his breath, opening her contact. 'Read' was plastered under the messages he had sent. Y/N had seen them.

__

Connor had left a few hours later because he had morning rounds at the clinic the next day. Y/N had bid him goodbye with a shy kiss to the corner of his mouth,

“Thanks for coming, C,"

He smiled and pulled her into an embrace "Anytime, angel," into her hair. A warmth spread through her chest--one that she hadn’t felt in a long while.

After Connor drove off (with a final wave from his car window, of course), Y/N walked back in to settle on her couch again. Halo kicked a few times as she sat down, making Y/N squirm and giggle.

"Hi, you little goose! What's got you all excited, hm?" She rubbed over the area where Y/N felt the kick. As if, in response to her mother's voice, baby Halo kicked out again, right where Y/N's palm was. "Are you trying to high-five me, precious girl?"

Y/N cooed at her swelling tummy, a huge smile plastered across her face. "Or are ya just excited about Connor coming over to spend time with us? Got a good feeling about him, have you?"

She feels a gentle kick, it was almost as if the baby in her tummy wanted to say 'yes'. Y/N hummed softly, caressing her tummy, "Me too, angel. I've got a good feeling about him, too."

__

A few minutes later, Y/N reboots her phone her previously switched off phone so that she could see if Connor had texted her. He had.

C: Thanks for letting me spend time with you and Halo tonight. I loved it. I have a  bit of time off on Sunday, do you want to get Pizza?'

Her eyes gleamed, but she hesitated for just a second. Connor had texted her. But so had Harry. He had sent her five messages, and Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted to see what he had to say.

She wanted to make sure before texting Connor back. Y/N was not sure what she was expecting or hoping for, but what she saw was certainly not it.

Harry: 'Your a whore'

'You're*',

'Diid yu cheat on me? I bet you did

'Do u sleepp arond a loot?'

'fck you'

She felt tears stinging her eyes, cursing at the pregnancy hormones that have gotten her feeling this emotional about drunk texts from her ex. Her body ignited with fury quicker than she realized she could. Y/N doesn't hesitate to click the 'block' button to his contact.

She didn't need a man like him around her or her baby. Or her potential boyfriend.

Y/N: 'Hiya!,'

'it was great having you over, and I'd love to hang out! Down for pizza anytime. Halo loves it too :P'

The reply was instantaneous

C: 'Great!'

'See you Sunday, then! What are your favourite toppings?"

Y/N smiled brightly, finding his curiosity incredibly endearing. She typed back a response, gleaming with joy at the fact that she finally had someone she could rely on.

___

"Fuck. fuck fuck fuck," Harry repeated, clicking the call button to Y/N's contact. He needed to apologize. Desperately. He needed her to know that he didn't mean any of those things; he was just drunk. Not that that was an excuse.

'The number you are trying to reach is not in service', an automated voice said.

Harry groaned in frustration, opening her message contact, typing out;

Harry: "I'm so sorry, I don't know what had gotten into me. I was drunk. I'm very sorry, Y/N xx H."

He took a bite out of his toast before looking back at his screen to see if she had read the message yet. He almost wished he hadn't. Harry’s heart plummeted. His chest constricted as tears stung at the back of his eyes. Throwing up the meal he just scarfed sounded like an option right now.

A flaming red exclamation mark met his startled glance, and his chest heaved as he read,

'Not delivered,'

___

As usual, let us know what you thought!

Reign aka pt3 is already up on Patreon (link in bio!)

Reign will be uploaded on Tumblr on Monday, August 31. ___

Series Taglist: @harrysthicccthighs @olsenholic @ghoulsonline @shexgal @neonaquariumgravel @prettylovley @ursogoldenshan @riley-moon @malstumblr1 @sunflowervol6iselite @luviewoo @pessimistic-her @babyprunstatesmanjudge @sapphire-m-rose @apples2019 @havingoodtime @parkersroses @bbymichelleee @addagin @technically-holland @bri-lovett @sunguines @trustfulhaz @novembersangels @explicitroses @toolazymyguy @luvelyhs @leftdragonfarmland @gbserion @wxn-drlst @breathingsoft1y @istudyoccasionally 

Permanent Taglist: @splendidsunsetx @swagmoneymaya @loviewoo @textingharry @arypesanchez @theresthingsthatwellneverknow

[hughjidiot]

In The Zone, A Sashannarcy One-Shot

Another of my Sashannarcy one-shots from AO3, in which Anne and Sasha put Marcy’s focus to the test.

---

“Well, looks like Marcy’s gaming again.”

 Anne and Sasha stood in the hallway of their apartment building, having just returned from a dinner date. From under the door to their shared unit there came a faint blue glow, and they could hear the sounds of muffled gunfire coming from within.

 “She better not have all the lights off again,” Sasha said, producing a key ring from her jacket pocket. “She already spends most of the day staring at screens, the last thing she needs is to make her eyes worse by doing it in the dar - oh goddammit.”

 The apartment’s living room was indeed dark, the only light coming from the flat-screen mounted on the wall. On screen, a werewolf-like creature swung a crude ax towards the first-person POV, only to be blown backwards by a shotgun blast. Marcy sat on the long couch that faced the TV, controller in hand, focusing intently on the action being displayed.

 “Hey Sash, hey Anne,” Marcy said to her girlfriends as they filed in, not taking her eyes off the game. “How was dinner?”

 “Don’t ‘how was dinner’ us,” Sasha said. She flicked the switch next to the door for the living room lights, illuminating the apartment in a soft white glow. Marcy flinched slightly at the sudden brightness, but remained focused on her game. “What did I tell you about gaming in the dark? You’re gonna mess up your eyes, Marcy.”

 Marcy shrugged. “I haven’t been playing  that long. Besides I’m playing a horror game and wanted to set the mood, you know?”

 Anne looked at the screen, taking note of the snowy rural village setting that Marcy’s character was traversing. “This that new game you were telling us about?” She asked. “The one with the nine-foot tall vampire chick?”

 Marcy chuckled. “Oh yeah. Can’t wait to get up close and personal with  her.”

 Sasha pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well at least keep the lights on, okay? It’s a miracle you don’t need glasses already.”

 Marcy just nodded, focusing on blasting more of the wolfmen that had shown up. Sasha hung up her coat while Anne crossed into the kitchen.

 “Oh and dinner was nice, by the way,” she said, opening the refrigerator to put a styrofoam container inside. “We went to that new Italian place that just opened up. Brought you some fettuccine alfredo, it’s in the fridge when you want it.”

 “Cool thanks,” Marcy said, biting her bottom lip as her thumbs furiously flew across the controller.

 Anne and Sasha exchanged glances. They’d known Marcy for most of their lives now, and knew her habits forwards and backwards. And right now, Marcy was In The Zone; the state of zen where she was tuning out everything to focus solely on whatever was playing out on the screen in front of her. She wasn’t  as bad as she was when they were kids, back when Marcy would get so distracted while gaming that she’d literally walk into walls, but still. Once Marcy got In The Zone, almost nothing could shake her concentration.

  Almost nothing.

 Sasha glanced at Marcy, then to Anne. She smiled slyly, raising her eyebrows. Anne looked to Marcy, then to Sasha. She smirked and nodded. Wordlessly the girls walked over and sat down on the couch next to Marcy, one on each side.

 “So what’s this game about, Marbles?” Anne asked casually.

 “Well it's a direct sequel to the last game,” Marcy explained. On screen, she unloaded another shotgun round into a werewolf’s face. “Before you had to rescue your wife from an inbred redneck torture family in the Louisiana bayou, right? Well now it’s a few years later and the two of you have a daughter together, but then she gets killed and the baby gets kidnapped and you travel to this village in rural Europe to rescue her.”

 “Interesting,” Sasha said, scooting closer to Marcy.

 “Oh yeah. Last game went with a  Texas Chainsaw Massacre -style with its setting and enemies, but this one’s got more of a gothic horror/classic horror movie vibe going for it with vampires and werewolves and all that. I’m really digging it so far and I can feel your hand Sasha.”

 “Whatever do you mean?” Sasha asked innocently.

 “Your hand on my knee right now,” Marcy replied. She stole the briefest of glances downwards before returning her attention to the screen. Sasha followed her gaze, looking down at her hand on Marcy’s knee.

 “Oh my, however did that get there?” Sasha mused with a smile, making no effort to move her hand.

 “Yeah, it’s a riddle for the ages.” Marcy made the player character whip out a landmine and deploy it, running away just as a huge werewolf came charging on all fours and triggering a huge explosion. “I feel you too there Anne.”

 Anne had leaned her head on Marcy’s shoulder. “Oh don’t mind me,” she said, nuzzling her cheek against her girlfriend. “I just wanted a better look at the action.”

 Marcy smirked. “I know what you two are doing.”

 "Oh?" Sasha raised a brow as her hand moved up Marcy's leg. "And what would that be?"

 "You're doing that thing where you get all touchy-feely to distract me while I'm gaming." With no more enemies in sight, Marcy attached a wheel to a stone well, turning it to raise up a bucket that held a pipe bomb. "Well it's not gonna work this time."

 "I don't know what you're talking about," Anne insisted. She turned her head, her breath on Marcy's ear as Anne reached up to gently run a hand up and down Marcy's arm. "We just wanna spend time with our Mar-Mar."

 Marcy shivered as Anne planted a kiss on her neck, just below her ear. She blushed, but took a deep breath and focused on the TV. Focused solely on blasting werewolves and not how nice it felt to be getting such intimate attention from both of her girlfriends at the same time, their hands on her arms and legs, their hot breath and soft lips on her skin-

 “And even if we  did  have ulterior motives,” Sasha said, pausing to kiss Marcy on the cheek, “you’re In The Zone. Nothing can shake your concentration. Not even…  this.”

 Sasha gently nibbled on Marcy’s earlobe while Anne gently nibbled on Marcy’s neck. The girl in the middle of the couch went beet-red, letting out a high-pitched squeal as she went rigid.

 “Oh screw it!” Marcy said, hitting pause. She tossed the controller towards the coffee table in front of the couch, and before plastic hit wood Marcy had whirled around, grabbing Sasha’s wrists. The blond barely had time to let out a startled cry as Marcy attacked her with a passionate kiss.

 Anne nodded and smiled as her girlfriends made out. She glanced over at the clock on the wall.

 Three minutes and twenty-two seconds. Marcy didn’t last long this time.

 So much for being In The Zone.

[talkfastromance4]

fun day with uncles//Luke&Lily special feat Ashton and Calum

a/n: I want to expand on the relationships the girls have with their uncles (and soon Oliver and Michael) so I hope you enjoy!

word count: 2.1 k

warnings: none, just fun and fluff with our girls and Cashton :)

Luke&Lily Masterlist

Enjoy!

***

You and Luke were going to the doctor’s office for Oliver’s routine check-ups and Calum and Ashton offered to take the girls out for a day. Lily and Posy were talking nonstop about it during breakfast asking where they were going and what they were going to do.

“Will Duke be with us?” Lily asks while you’re styling her hair in her room. Luke has Posy in her room getting her dressed and Oliver is in his swing sucking on his fingers.

“I don’t know, honey. I guess we’ll see when they come pick you up,” you kiss her head watching her pull on her socks. 

That was the one request Ashton and Calum had for you and Luke; the girls had to wear shoes and socks. You had packed sunscreen, goldfish crackers, and some extra pull-ups for Posy in case she had an accident. She’s been doing really well going potty on the toilet but accidents happen. You packed an extra outfit and sweaters just in case and placed them in one of Luke’s backpacks. 

You figured Ashton and Calum wouldn’t want to carry around the baby bag that you have.

“I ready! Let’s go!” Posy announces skidding to a stop in Lily’s doorway. 

“Uncle Ash and Uncle Cal aren’t here yet, bug,” Luke laughs poking at her cheeks from behind. 

The girls busied themselves with their toys as you and Luke made sure you had everything you needed for Oliver. Then there was a knock on the door followed by Petunia barking and the girls screaming in excitement running down the hall. 

When it opens, Posy rushes to Ashton’s legs and Lily grabs hold of Calum’s hands pulling him inside the house.

“Hey, hey, let them get in the door,” Luke laughs entering the living room behind you. 

Oliver woke up from the loud noises and you scooped him up into your arms, rocking him slightly until he calmed down. 

“I want to be greeted like this everywhere I go,” Calum laughs, lifting Lily in his arms. “Are you ready for a day of fun, Lils?”

“Yes! Where are we going?” Lily asks. 

“Up, up, up Unca Ash!” Posy is trying to climb her way up Ashton’s legs. He picks her up easily as well and pokes her nose.

“Hi little one,” he grins then turns to Lily. “It’s a surprise, but there’s rides, animals, and yummy food.”

You and Luke exchange a look. Rides?

“What kind of rides?” Luke asks, his eyes moving to Lily who’s always been the most cautious with certain things. 

“A carousel and pony rides,” Calum eases. 

“Ponies?” Lily’s eyes widened. 

“Do not let them out of your sight,” Luke warns, lifting the backpack you packed and handing it to Ashton.

“We won’t. How long do you think you’ll be at the doctor’s?” Ashton asks. Calum moves forward towards you and gazes lovingly at Oliver. 

“No idea. They’ll probably check his oxygen levels, weigh him, take some blood...a few hours at least,” you respond. “I packed extra clothes and some snacks for them.”

“We’ll be back before dinnertime,” Ashton informs. “You girls ready to go?” 

“Bye mama! Bye Daddy!” Posy waves. 

“Have fun and listen to your uncles, okay?” you tell them. “And hold their hands.”

“We will mama. Bye Olly!” Calum sets her back on the ground and she touches Oliver’s arm softly. 

***

Ashton carries Posy along the grounds of where the circus is in town. There’s a train painted in bright colors with animals drawn all over it and clowns are walking around. Lily is holding onto Calum’s hand taking in all of the sights around her. 

“Where should we go first?” Ashton asks, looking at the booths of face painting, jewelry, t-shirts, concessions, and games with colorful stuffed animals. 

“Let’s just start on one end and work our way around,” Calum shrugs.

And so they did. First, they ordered a large lemonade that was shared amongst the four of them and looked at the animals. Lily and Posy wanted to feed them so Calum bought the food from a machine that usually holds pieces of gum. He took photos and videos of the girls laughing at the tickling sensation from the goats’ whiskers. 

“Goats are pretty cute,” Ashton muses, scratching one on the head. 

“No way are you going to get a goat,” Calum shakes his head. 

“I want a goat!” Posy claps her hands. 

“Ask your daddy that, little one,” Ashton giggles. 

They wash their hands and look at the rest of the animals for a bit longer until Posy whispers something in Ashton’s ear. 

“She needs to use the potty,” Ashton tells Calum with wide eyes. 

“Oh, okay. Uhh…” Calum looks around but all he sees are portable ones. “Looks like those are our best option.”

“Those are disgusting,” Ashton crinkles his nose. “There has to be an actual bathroom somewhere. Let’s ask someone.”

Calum and Lily follow him to a worker and shockingly enough, there is an actual bathroom building but it’s way in the back.

“Can you hold it until we’re at the bathrooms, little one?” Ashton asks, already walking towards the back at a brisk pace. Calum and Lily follow. 

They push through the crowds of people muttering their apologies. At long last, they’re in front of the building and thankfully see a door that’s labeled as ‘family’ restroom. 

“Here we go,” Ashton says and Calum stops him.

“Do you even know what to do?”

“I’m not dumb, it can’t be that hard. Have some faith, man,” Ashton shakes his head and moves into the restroom. 

Calum looks down at Lily who gives him a nervous smile. 

“Do you think Uncle Ash will drop her in the toilet?” Calum asks and she giggles.

“I hope not. Dada always sings when she’s on the potty to help.”

Calum looks to the restroom door and approaches it. He knocks lightly.

“Occupied!”

“It’s me!” Calum shouts. “Lily says Luke sings to her to help her go.”

“Sings what?” 

Calum looks down at Lily.

“Wheels on the bus.”

“Wheels on the bus!” Calum shouts.

“Got it! Thanks!”

Calum notices a bench against the wall and he pulls Lily onto his lap.

“You’re such a great big sister, you know that? You remind me of my big sister,” he says then realizes Mali hasn’t officially met the girls or Oliver. 

“Who?”

“My big sister, Mali.”

“Mama showed me Mali! She sings pretty.”

“Yeah, she does,” Calum grins, “she’d love to meet you someday. I’ll see if she can come visit me soon.”

“Can we ride the ponies next?” Lily asks and Ashton comes out with Posy with a triumphant smile. 

“Did it all go well, then?” Calum asks.

“She did such a good job,” Ashton praises and Posy is grinning like he is. “Your mama and daddy are going to be so proud of you, Posy.”

“Way to go Posy!” Calum and Lily clap their hands. “Lils wants to go on the pony rides next.”

“Then let’s go see some ponies!” 

Calum and Ashton were able to walk alongside the ponies to make sure the girls didn’t fall off. There was a strap that could be secured around their waists. Calum held onto Lily who kept petting at the pony’s mane and neck as he strutted around the circle.

Ashton was speaking in a southern accent trying to sound like a cowboy and Posy was laughing the whole ride. 

After the ponies, they had lunch which consisted of a slice of pizza and some fruit that was sold as a side. Games were next and Posy loved watching Ashton do the hammer one to test his strength. Her peels of laughter encouraged him to keep trying until he finally hit the bell at the top. 

He asked Posy which toy she wanted as a prize and chose a purple looking monster with orange teeth and green hair. Lily looked at it apprehensively so Calum towed her along to the water games. She had a good shot with the water guns being aimed at the spinning target as it ascended up the pole, but she didn’t beat the buzzer. 

“It’s okay Lils, let’s try this one over here.”

They walk over to the ping pong toss over small fish bowls while Ashton and Posy are throwing balls at glass bottles. Calum buys a bucketful of ping pongs and tries to help Lily with her throws. He loves how dainty she holds the white ball in her hand and she sticks her tongue out in concentration. One of her eyebrows quirks up and she looks so much like Y/N when she does it it throws Calum for a loop. 

“Try not to aim for one certain one,” Calum says. “Just throw it and I’m sure you’ll make one in.”

“Okay…” Lily tosses a ball.

She and Calum watch it in slow motion as it hits one bowl then falls into the one next to it. Lily lets out a scream and Calum whoops in excitement as the attendant shouts out “WINNER TO THE LITTLE GIRL IN PINK!”

“I won! Unca Cal I won!” she jumps up and down clutching Calum's fingers.

“Way to go, Lils!” He congratulates and Ashton and Posy come by.

“What’s going on?” Ashton asks just as the attendant comes forward with a bag of water and a small pink fish. 

“Lily won a fish,” Calum explains proudly and takes the bag. 

“No way! Lily, that’s awesome!”

“I thought she’d like this pink one,” the attendant smiles.

“She loves pink, thank you,” Calum grins and bends down to Lily’s height. “What do you think, Lils?”

“He’s pretty,” she smiles, poking the bag lightly where the small fish is poking in the corner. “Will mama let me keep him?”

“I don’t see why not, you don’t have to walk them.”

“I love him. His name is Bruno.”

“That’s the perfect name,” Calum grins.

“Po, look at my fish.”

Posy scrambles down from Ashton’s arms and presses her nose to the bag. 

“He’s tiny!” Posy crinkles her nose. 

The rest of the day Calum carried Bruno and Lily would check on him periodically. Posy started to get fussy and they ended the day at the pet store to get some supplies for Bruno. The clerk informed them that Bruno was a male betta fish and about 6 months old. 

Calum bought a small tank with gray stones and a lily pad for the fish to sleep on; Lily loved knowing that bit of information that betta fish like to nestle. He bought food and some colorful fake plants. 

Ashton stayed with Posy in the car because she fell asleep on the ride to the pet store. 

“He won’t...die right away will he?” Calum asks nervously as Lily inspects some more water accessories. 

“No, as long as you feed him and change the water periodically he should live for about four years.”

“Four?”

“That’s the average lifespan of betta’s. He’ll be a good starter fish for her if she wants to get another one. When the time comes.”

Calum feels saddened by that because he doesn’t want Lily to be sad when the fish will die. But she’s so enamored by him there’s no way he’ll tell her any of this. 

He’ll just tell Luke.

***

“Mama! Look what I got!” Lily runs through the door with Bruno in his bag. She stops in the kitchen where you’re making dinner, Oliver is held against you in the wrap around your body. “I won him! His name is Bruno and Uncle Cal got him a nice home and some food!”

“He did? Wow, he’s so pretty sweetie,” you smile looking at the pink fish. 

“What’s with all the noise, is there a circus in town?” Luke asks, coming up from the stairs. “Hey bug, are you still sleepy?” He takes Posy from Ashton’s arms, Posy rests her head in Luke’s neck. 

“Look dada! I got a fish!” Lily spins around and shows Luke Bruno.

“Oh wow, and he’s pink! Did you have fun at the circus?”

“Yeah, Po used the potty and won a monster. We had lemonade and pizza and cotton candy. Can Uncle Cal help me with Bruno’s tank?” Lily looks up at you and Luke.

“Absolutely. Thanks for buying everything Uncle Cal,” you smile at him and Lily runs to her room. Luke follows to put Posy down to finish her nap and Ashton crashes on the couch sighing heavily. “Busy day, huh?”

“I don’t know how you and Luke do it,” Calum shakes his head. “And now with three? You’re super human.”

“I’m just a mom.”

“You’re the best mom, lovie,” Luke reappears with a smile. “I take it you two are staying for dinner? Need us to bathe you and tuck you into bed as well?”

“The only one I’ll let bathe me is Y/N,” Ashton sighs, closing his eyes and you laugh loudly.

“Sorry mate, she’s all mine,” Luke gives you a kiss on the cheek and Calum goes to Lily’s room. “Can’t wait to spend the weekend with you, soon.”

Taglist: @calumance​  @in-superbloom​ @calpalirwin​ @karajaynetoday​ @wiiildflowerrr @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie​ @suchalonelysunflower​ @hoodhoran​ @Fobodob @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt​ @sunshineeashton​ @ashtonsunflower​​ @mymindwide​​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​ @seanna313​ @fivesecondsofonedirection​

Luke&Lily: @prentisswrites​

[c-r-ash-crash]

New Life Ch 3

Bdubs’ communicator exploded with vibrations as messages flooded into the chat. Most of them were some variation of demanding to know exactly what the Boogeyman was. Bdubs was curious too, but he noticed that the server had sent him a private message. Quietly, he checked it and his eyes scanned over what it said.

“You are the boogeyman. You must by any means kill a green or yellow life by direct action to be cured of the curse. If you fail, next session, you will become a red name. All loyalties and friendships are removed while you are the boogeyman.”

Bdubs ran his tongue over his lips nervously. Oh. As subtely as he could, he glanced down at his wrist. Four hearts were still there, marked in dark green ink. He tilted his comm slightly to check the color of his eyes. They were still dark brown as always. He blew out a breath. The bloodlust hadn’t started yet. He had a few hours at most to get away from everyone else on the server. To warn them.

Then, he read over the message again. “If you fail, next session, you will become a red name.” Slowly, the meaning sunk in. Unless he killed someone within the next nine days, he would kill everyone. Then, he glanced up at Etho. He was so, so screwed.

Scott trailed behind Pearl as she clambered over the hill, looking for a good place to set up their base. He rubbed at the skin on his wrist, but stopped once he realized what he was doing. He closed his eyes and tried to shut out the sight of Jimmy’s smiling face, hands rubbing over his palm. Jimmy had always rubbed at his wrist like that whenever he was stressed. He had promised Scott that he himself would die before he let anyone take a single life from Scott. Guess he had been right.

Scott missed him. He missed the sunshine that would come with the blonde as soon as he entered the room. He missed the bright smile and bubbly laughter. He missed being able to smile, missed those fleeting moments where he thought everything might be okay. As long as he had Jimmy by his side, nothing could go wrong. His crown sat heavy against his brows.

Suddenly, a voice startled him out of his thoughts. “Scott?” Pearl called out from the top of the hill. “You alright?” Scott’s eyes snapped open, and he met Pearl’s concerned expression. “Oh, yes, I’m fine,” he replied, plastering a small smile onto his own face. Pearl didn’t buy it. “Scott, if you need a moment, we can stop for a bit.” “No, no,” Scott assured her. “Really, Pearl. I’m fine.”

Then, his eyes caught on a small smudge of bright red against the green grass. He cupped the flower gently in his hand. Then he plucked it and tucked the poppy behind his ear. “Let’s go,” he said, marching on.

Bdubs’ pick dug into the iron ore, pulling the metal free. He picked up the item drops and tucked them into his bag. “Oh, so I figured out what that boogeyman thing was about,” Etho said from the other end of the cave, startling Bdubs into dropping his pick. “Oh, sorry,” Etho said. “Anyways, that boogeyman thing. Basically, we have to kill someone else or else we get down to our red life.” “Wow,” Bdubs said, voice even. “Glad neither of us got that then.” “Well, you can’t be sure of that,” Etho said. “For all you know, the server could have chosen me.” Bdubs chuckled lightly. “C’mon, don’t joke about that. Sounds like you basically have to act like a red life or else you actually become one. If you ask me, that sounds like some pretty serious pain.”

“Yeah, no doubt,” Etho said, pocketing more coal drops. “But if I were the boogeyman, I could kill you right now if I wanted to.” Bdubs’ heart skipped a beat. He was the boogeyman. Etho didn’t have to kill anyone. Besides, he was still on his green life, or rather his dark green life. The bloodlust wouldn’t have started yet.

Suddenly, a pickaxe embedded itself into the stone next to Bdubs’ head. He whirled around to see Etho’s hand on the hilt. “What the heck, Etho?” he exploded. “You almost hit me!” “But I didn’t,” Etho said with a shrug. “Wasn’t planning too anyways. Just wanted to scare you.” “W-well you did a great job of that,” Bdubs spluttered.

Suddenly, he realized how close at hand his sword was, how close Etho’s unarmored chest was. He shoved the thought down. He wasn’t on his red life yet. He couldn’t kill anyone yet. He wouldn’t kill anyone. His stomach began to turn in knots, and he turned his attention back to mining, trying to quiet the pounding headache that had sprung up. He wouldn’t kill anyone. He wouldn’t. Then his hands began shaking.

“I think I’m gonna go get some food,” he mumbled, stumbling back up the mineshaft he and Etho had made. Once he reached the little shelter they had made for themselves, he slid down against the wall, grateful for the feeling of cool stone against his feverish skin. Shakily, he pulled out his comm and re-read the boogeyman message for the thousandth time. A single word jumped out at him. “Cured.” Unless he killed someone, he would die.

Grian slipped through the dark trees, watching for a zombie and listening for the telltale hiss of a creeper or a bow being drawn. The forest was quiet, and any hint of monsters was far off. He still didn’t remove the cloth covering his small lantern. Then, from in front of him came the sound of loud cheerful singing.

He picked up his pace as he recognized the sound of the voice. “Scar!” he called. The singing stopped. “Grian?” Scar asked nervously, as the light of a small lantern flooded the forest. Grian uncovered his own lantern just a smidge, and caught a flash of light blue. He froze. “Is that diamond armor?” he asked, stunned. “You like it?” Scar asked, spreading his arms wide once Grian came into sight. “How did you of all people end up the first in diamond armor?” Grian asked incredulously. “Just lucky I guess,” Scar said with a shrug. Then Grian noticed the six pack etched into the diamond.

He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “That’s not diamond armor is it?” “What?” Scar said exaggeratedly. “Of course it is!” “Armor doesn’t have six packs engraved into it.” Scar’s brow furrowed in disappointment. “Is it really that obvious?” he pouted. “Only ‘cause of the obviously fake muscles,” Grian teased. “What is that made out of anyways?” Scar shrugged. “Cloth. Had some tailor make it for me before we moved to Season eight.” “So you mean if I hit you, it won’t give you any protection?” “Of course it will,” Scar said. “No need to test it out.” Grian punched him in the chest.

Scar stumbled back, winded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Grian muttered to himself. “How do you hit so hard, dude?” Scar wheezed. “You have like no muscle on those arms.” “Says the man with a fake six pack engraved into his armor,” Grian shot back. “But seriously, don’t underestimate me.” “I don’t,” Scar said, recovering somewhat. “I only survived the game because I had you on my side.”

Grian’s lips pressed into a thin line. “What is it?” Scar asked, mood plummeting instantly. “Scar,” Grian began, tone dead serious. “Everything that happened last time, it’s all null and void. Our old alliance...it’s dead.” “So you mean I can’t put you on a llama and take you to the desert?” Scar joked. Grian didn’t smile. “You really mean that?” Scar asked, crestfallen. Grian nodded tightly. “New round, new rules.” Then he perked up. “Which speaking of, have you tried the give life command?”

“The what command?” Scar said, slightly startled by the sudden change in topics. “Yeah,” Grian said excitedly. “Apparently we can give each other lives, this round. Which, when you think about it, explains why we all got a random amount of lives. And it explains why some of us even got four lives.” “That actually makes a lot of sense,” Scar mused. “But who would I even try the command on?” he asked. “Well, you’ve got me,” Grian suggested. “I’ll give it right back, I promise. I just want to see how it works.”

Scar hesitated for a moment, searching Grian’s face. But then he said: “Alright, how do I do this give life command.” “Say this,” Grian said, typing something into his communicator. Scar’s own comm buzzed. “Why can’t I just repeat after you?” Scar asked. “Because then I’d give you a life,” Grian explained. “And if I did that, I’d be on my red life. And I really, really don’t want that.” “That makes sense,” Scar said with a nod. Then, he began reading off the comm.

“ᓭꖎᔑᓭ⍑ ⊣╎⍊ᒷ ꖎ╎⎓ᒷ”

Golden light enveloped Grian and Scar, and their feet lifted off the ground. The light drifted from Scar, wrapping itself around Grian, settling in his bones, and etching another heart into his wrist. The ink turned a vibrant lime green, and suddenly both Grian and Scar dropped to the ground.

Grian stumbled for a moment, then he regained his bearings. “That was something,” Scar muttered, still trying to regain his balance. Then, Grian glanced down at his communicator. He reached to turn it off, but glanced down at the list of player names. His hands stopped as he realized Scar’s name was dark green. “Scar, it’s still saying you have four lives here.” “No, I have five left,” Scar said, proffering his wrist for Grian to see. There were indeed five dark green hearts there. Grian’s brow furrowed. “Wait, but that would mean...you started with six lives?” he asked, jaw dropping. Scar nodded. “Like I said, I’m just lucky.” Grian shook his head, clearing the whirlwind of questions that had sprung up.

“Yeah, I’m not giving this back,” he said. “What-no!” Scar exclaimed, reaching for Grian, but he was already sprinting away through the forest, laughter echoing off the trees.

Jimmy bounced along, skipping over the grass, tossing his spyglass between his hands. He reached the peak of the hill, and stretched. He hadn’t exactly gotten a good night’s sleep last night, worrying about what it meant that he was back in the game, and trying to figure out what this new boogeyman thing was. Besides, a small hole in the side of a mountain never made for a great shelter.

Suddenly, he heard voices drifting up the hill. He stopped, tucking his spyglass into his pocket, just in case. Two faces appeared over the top of the hill. He recognized Pearl’s dark colored hoodie and Scott’s bright blue hair. “Hey!” he called out, waving. Pearl returned it. Scott was a bit more hesitant, but his eyes lit up when he recognized Jimmy. “Hey!” he called back. A bolt of joy shot through Jimmy, but he ignored it. He and Scott couldn’t ally this round. He didn’t want to risk another incarnation of Dogwarts deciding the two of them were a threat.

“How are you?” Pearl asked, smile bright and enthusiastic. Scott was smiling too, the one he reserved just for Jimmy. Jimmy squashed down the butterflies in his stomach. He couldn’t think of Scott like that. Not anymore.

“Pretty good,” Jimmy replied, nonchalantly. “Were you guys able to find shelter last night?” Pearl nodded. “I actually found something else this morning,” Scott said, reaching behind his ear. It was just now that Jimmy noticed the crown tucked over Scott’s hair. He wondered where it had come from. He certainly hadn’t had it on Empires.

“Figured you’d like it,” Scott continued, proffering something to Jimmy. It was a bright red poppy. A pang of longing shot through Jimmy’s heart. He ignored it. Scott’s expression fell slightly when he saw that Jimmy wasn’t taking the flower. “It’s a poppy!” he said. “Just like last time, when you-” “I know,” Jimmy said gently, cutting him off. He pushed Scott’s hand down, and Scott’s smile fell. “I know, Scott. But I can’t do this. Not again.” “But-but...” Scott protested.

“New round, new rules,” Jimmy said sadly. “Besides I can’t...I can’t risk losing you again. And I don’t want you to have to lose me. We’re both on our yellow lives. I can’t go through that again. And it’s not fair to ask you to.” He hesitated for a moment, but then he gathered himself and marched past Scott and Pearl.

Scott watched him go, staring dumbly at Jimmy’s retreating form, hand curled tightly around the poppy. Then, his heart shattered.

[draconic-ichor]

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 16: Bloodmoon’s Dawn

Warnings: strong language blood/gore, body horror, dead bodies, fire

Summary: Heisenberg searches for Juniper the morning after the hunt.

Feedback appreciated. 18+

Heisenberg trudged through the village. The sun had just started to rise in the pale dawn, the village trying to regroup after the Hunt.

He’d heard the gunshot, over the screams and howls. It made his blood run cold, fear and worry churning his gut into a mess.

The feeling didn’t leave him as he wandered the somber streets, the smell of blood and shit assaulting his nose.

But, above that, the horrid odor of burning hair and flesh rose with the wind. He rounded a corner to see a collection of men throwing bodies into a fire, the heat of it reaching his skin from that distance.

Most were Lycans, but there were a few dead and mangled villagers added to the blaze. Their fear of the dead turning spurred the villagers to burn both the creatures and the felled alike.

The thought of finding her on the pile….

He shook the thoughts away, trying to avoid the darkness that crept the corners of his brain.

He heard the wails of a woman, mourning a lost husband or son. He didn’t care to listen for details.

He continued along the street, looking into every fire for a familiar shape. His pale eyes scanning the charred bodies for anything resembling a varcalac alpha.

He sighed with relief when none were in the masses. Heisenberg had found her boots and coat discarded in the snow, her compass not far after. He deposited them in a safe location before searching the rest of the village.

The sound of bells echoed through the cold morning. He sneered, watching as the villagers began to flock towards the church. Mother Miranda, no doubt, was there to welcome them with promises of safety.

A few of the villagers stopped, falling to their knees before Heisenberg. Their voices were low and desperate mumbling for a mix or forgiveness and pity.

He reeled back a bit, before hurrying around them. He didn’t have time to waste coddling.

What he was looking for obviously wasn’t here anymore. He set his sights for the stronghold.

He walked the paths, over countless paw prints and bloody drag marks under his boots. The Lycans always retreated to the stronghold after hunts, to eat the dead they stole and to rest.

Heisenberg saw a few on the way, scrabbling around the rocks and tying up body’s for safekeeping.

The smell of gore was stronger as he entered the already opened doors, he could hear the creatures shuffling around within. If the villagers weren’t so fearful, they might have half a mind to torch this place.

He didn’t use caution as he strode through, the sound of his boots echoing off the ancient walls.

In a shadowy corner there was movement, something much bigger than a Lycan, and too bestial to be Urias.

He came forward, eyes adjusting to the darkness. His breath caught with relief: she was here and she was alive…

Juniper was still in her mutated form, laying bunched up along the old stone. Other Lycans and varcolacs were piled around, resting after the hunt.

Heisenberg stepped closer, seeing blood leak from a wound on her arm.

She raised her beastial head, a low growl coming from her chest.

“Hey now bitch, it’s me,” he lowered his voice, showing her his hands, “It’s Karl.”

She pulled her wounded leg closer, head dipping down. Her bloodied lips curled up as her wet nose twitched.

Sniffing at his offered hands, her hackles lowered.

Juniper leaned down and licked her wound gingerly.

Heisenberg knelt down by her, trying to look the leg over. It looked to be a bullet wound. Juniper’s tongue lathed it over, blood oozing out of the hole as soon as she licked it away.

“Got caught?” He frowned.

He could sense the metal still lodged in the flesh.

He reached out and gently touched her muzzle. Her multiple green eyes flicked up to him as she closed her unnaturally elongated jaws.

He scratched the bridge of her nose, easing as he watched her close her eyes.

There was a pleased rumble from her throat as she nuzzled into the contact.

“What I have to do is going to piss you off.” He admitted, worry etching into his features.

“Hies….en…” her voice croaked out, distorted and garbled in her mutated jaws.

He smiled weakly, “Yea, Doll. It’s me.”

“H….urt.” Her eyes of liquid green looked into his.

He squared his jaw, feeling a thorn in his chest.

“It’s going to get worse before it gets better.” He focused on the metal. Being as careful as possible, he began to dislodge the bullet with his powers.

Her form tensed, muscles bunched under the skin. She made a sound of warning, baring her teeth.

He didn’t waver, his eyebrows bunching with concentration. Suddenly, with a wet sucking sound, the bullet came free.

Heisenberg released it, the metal tinkling against the stone of the floor.

Juniper’s pointed ears came forward at the foreign sound. She sniffed the bullet with interest.

“Now what will we do with you?” He sighed, “Did you eat anyone?”

Juniper stood, shaking like a dog before padding closer to him. Her large head nudged him, causing Heisenberg to fall back on his butt.

She snuffled his shirt, pressing him down onto the stone.

He chuckled, trying to push her massive head away as her tongue came out.

She lapped at his face, her breath smelling of blood.

Heisenberg pushed her head to the side, “Damn, who's the nasty one now, bitch?”

She warbled pacing back into her spot, sitting down. Frowning, Heisenberg scratched his chin.

How to get her home?

He made a makeshift collar out of a piece of sheet metal folded in on itself, hooking a chain through it like a leash. Seeing her collared and chained sent a pang though him.

He frowned, his aggressive handling involving her throat still a stinging thorn in his mind.

He was surprised however how easily she followed the lead.

How much of her mind is left in this form?

He thought. Now that she was tired out and fully fed she was better behaved then the Lycans, padding after him as he led her out of the stronghold. The Lycans outside tilted their heads curiously as they passed.

Juniper’s back tendrils lazily flowed around her, like sea grass in the ocean current. They would sometimes bat into Heisenberg or disturb the snow covered branches overhead.

The trip back took much longer than expected. Heisenberg was forced to avoid the outskirts of the village entirely, making the way back longer anyways. Not to mention, in this form everything smelled new and interesting to Juniper’s sensitive nose. Heisenberg would get stopped every few feet by her shoving her face into a log or trying to scratch around in the dirt. It was akin to walking a large dog, he mused.

With the factory grounds in sight, his patience waned in wake of her most recent pit stop.

“Buttercup, you are really pissing me off.” He hissed, yanking on the chain. She whined, looking at him dejectedly as she padded up beside him.

Her head shot up, sniffing at the air. Her ears perked up as she looked towards the factory excitedly.

Heisenberg chuckled, “Yea, we’re going home.”

Before he could brace himself she went tearing off towards the factory, almost ripping the chain from his hands. He was forced to take a full run to keep up with her.

When they got to the fence he let go as she scrabbled over the top.

Falling off onto the other side with a thud, she looked at him expectantly.

The gate rattled open, as he walked through. He paused to ponder what to do with her now. He had hoped she would have changed back during the journey over, but her mutated form was locked in like a tick. She was also filthy, caked in a layer of blood and grime.

He led her to the back of the factory, practically having to push her onto the larger elevator. This was saved for when he had to transport larger scrap into the underbelly. But she should fit fine.

He took her to base level four.

Once there he hooked the chain to the wall, positioning her over some grates. She tugged at the bonds until she heard the sound of a faucet turning.

He came back brandishing an old rubber hose.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He said as he pointed the nozzle at her.

Heisenberg hosed her off, blood and mud washing away. The dirty water trickled away through the metal grates she stood over.

After he shut the water off, Juniper stood dripping and shivering. Her mane of dark curls, heavy and waterlogged, she resembled a drowned sheepdog.

“K-Ka….rl?” Her monstrous voice eked out. She pulled her twisted legs closer to herself as she shivered.

He frowned, “Yea, Yea…I know the water was cold.”

She gave a small whine like a dog, looking down.

“You should dry off soon, it’s warm here.” He soothed.  He made sure the ventilation system kicked on, forcing dry air though the lower sections of the factory.

He heard a hollow clinking sound, spinning around to find Juniper’s jaws biting at the large pipes. She pulled at them, shaking her monstrous head a bit.

“Hey!” Heisenberg shouted, “Don’t eat my shit!”

One of her many eyes flicked over to him as she continued.

He stomped closer, hearing a growl from deep in her chest.

“Hey!”

She paused for a moment, peering at him before starting to tug at the pipe again. He pulled on the chain, causing her to stumble back a bit with a whimper.

“Juniper, stop it!” He scolded her like a dog. She huffed.

He noticed the tendrils on her back began to recede, pulling into the bubbled flesh. Her scar also looks less angry.

Seeing her safe and starting to calm gave him time to think. Questions pooled around his head:

Miranda had to know Juniper could turn…but why was she testing the limits of it? Did she want to use her as a weapon or was it just more of her sick curiosity?

He didn’t know, but it made him feel sick. He hated seeing Juniper like this, twisted and bloodthirsty.

Seeing her start to get even a shadow of control over this form brought him some relief. If she could control it fully she’d be much less of a danger to herself.

Was it hunger related? Or just moon patterns, maybe?

The bloodmoon had definitely affected her much more deeply than any moon faze had prior. He scratched his beard, deep in thought.

[fortune-fool02]

Mall Crawl (Mer!Pillarmen AU)

Aja Mall was closed for the night.

Locked shut and deserted, there was nothing stirring in the establishment in the darkness of night. A few dim lamps remained on, but otherwise, it was all darkness and quiet, save for the stagnant drips of the main lobby fountain.

The fountain, however had been leaking for a while, and a few stray splashes dampened the smooth tiled floor. By sheer chance, some of the water began to drain onto a ledge, where it leaked down to the lower ground floor art exhibit, and dribbled onto a set of statues, ancient stone sculptures proudly on display in the historic gallery, and depicted, carved in repose, four masculine figures in repose, each sporting a great fish's tail below their waist.

Except they weren't sculpted at all.

As the leaking water moistened them the stony shells began to soften and crumble away. All they needed was water, something they had been deprived of for ages, what with the museum's insistence on keeping these priceless artifacts dry, and took great care to ensure that not a drop of water touched them.

But now it did, and for the first time in four thousand years, the figures began to move again.

With a wet slap one of the figures, bearing a dull, silvery-gray tail and sporting a single horn upon his head, dropped out of the stone and onto the wet floor. Groggily he looked about. This wasn't the temple of the ancients, he thought, turning his attention toward the other figures still encased in stone. This was a strange foundation carved out by those...those primitives, who walked on the land.

"Lord Kars...Lord Esidisi..." he mumbled, as he crawled across the floor on his powerful arms, toward the other two figures. "Our time has come again..."

Scooping up some of the water that had pooled on the floor in his webbed hands, he splashed it onto the two stone figures that had lain on either side of him for decades. His eyes, suited for darkness, grew wide with anticipation as he watched their rocky cocoons slowly melt away.

"Awaken, my masters!" he cried.

A wet flop on each side soon followed as the other two mermen burst from their shells, which they had formed to survive drying out when water was withheld from them. There they had slumbered for millennia, until a fluke of events awekened them once again: in a changed new world they did not recognize.

"Wamuu..." Kars groaned hoarsely, as he pushed himself up by his arms. "W-where are we?"

"I know not where we have found ourselves, my lord," Wammu replied respectfully with a bow. "We shall soon see."

"We appear to be above the surface, judging by the lack of water," Esidisi added, stretching out his fiery orange tail with a yawn. "Our first priority should be to return to the sea...Lord Kars?" He suddenly added, confused, as he saw his wild-haired superior dragging himself away, clearly interested in something else. 

"Fascinating..." Kars muttered to himself, as he slithered down the art hall, his violet tail trailing behind. "We appear to be in the hall of the primitives, how they have advanced over the years..." He continued crawling, while Esidisi urgently squirmed after his high lord.

"Lord Kars, we don't have time...the call of the sea awaits us!" he called out. Kars shot back a wicked smile. "The ocean can wait, Esidisi. There is something more of interest I desire to see."

Wammu followed the two with several heavy flops. "My master, what about Santana?"

Kars sneered as he pulled himself onward. "Leave him, Wamuu. He isn't important." Wamuu sadly nodded and followed behind the other two.

Hauling and dragging themselves forward in a display of ungainly strength, they began to slowly make their way along the hall. It sported a gallery of artistic wonders of the ancient world --which moments ago included themselves-- before the pathway opened up into a wide open space, filled with strange rooms and odd structures, and a window in the ceiling that let the bright moonlight in.

Soon the three mermen began to explore the strange cathedral of the landfolk that they found themselves in. It was more difficult for them to move without water, but the strange, smooth floors, more polished than any of them had ever seen, was easy for them to pull their heavy bodies across with only the power of their arms.

They gazed around in fascination and amazement as they heaved themselves along, eager to see more like three very unusual tourists, glancing about at the sights in wonder. To human eyes the mall was all but darkness: but their eyes were designed for the pitch depths of the sea, and could partake in the colorful splendor a landwalker could only enjoy in the daytime.

"Their structures are marvelous," Wammu exclaimed, sliding his way over to a set of metal steps. A red button glowed faintly at its base, and the horned merman curiously inspected it, while elsewhere, Kars clawed his way forwards into a small room, where strange, colorful fabrics hung in hooks and lines.

"Splendid, very splendid," he said, reaching up as high as he can from his position on the floor to pull down one of the fabrics. It felt soft and velvety to the touch, though to Kars's disappointment the garment was too small to fit his toned muscular body when he tried to put it on, leaving his upper arms and belly comically exposed.

"Nonetheless, their fashion is admirable," he mumbled to himself. "I sure shall miss their beautiful art when we eventually destroy their puny race..."

"Lord Kars!" Esidisi urged, as he wriggled his way into the store. "Now is not the time for distractions, we must find a way back to the ocean!"

"A few moments could not hurt," Kars snapped irritably, as he tried on a fancy hat on display, which he struggled to squeeze onto his horned, purple-maned head that was far too big for it.

Outside the small shop Wamuu had been fiddling with the metallic steps, trying to see how they moved and worked. He pressed the small buttons that gleamed from the bottom, testing to see if anything would happen--and to his surprise, the steps began to move, with him still on it. 

Wammu was gripped with panic as the steps carted him upwards, toward an unknown destination. His frightened surprise, however, turned to amazement as he realized that the steps had guided him to a second floor of the establishment, full of other things he otherwise could not access from below.

"This must be how they go from level to level," he mused.

Downstairs, Esidisi tried in vain to reason with Kars, who seemed to be more interested in taking the fashionable items of the landwalkers than he was at getting back to the sea.

"Does this dress accentuate the splendor of my tail?" Kars asked with a hint of seduction in his voice, as he lay on his side to show off the flowing skirt he had pulled from one of the shelves.

"Anything, anything looks marvelous on you, my lord!" Esidisi pleaded. "But we have greater things to be accomplished! Where is Wammu!?" he demanded.

"I have come, my masters," Wammu called out from the top of the moving steps, followed by a full minute of awkward silence as he slowly but surely descended while he sat on one of the steps.

Esidisi grimaced in confusion, as Wamuu finally reached the bottom of the steps. "What a ridiculous place."

In the meantime, the leaky fountain back at the gallery had begun to flood the art exhibit, moistening the petrified form of the one left behind-- Santana. He emerged coughing and groaning onto the wet floor, and he thrashed about in confusion until he finally caught his bearings.

His heart sank as his eyes fixed onto the three empty holes in the stone wall. Once again, his masters had abandoned him. He had always felt lesser than they were, but this was a low blow, even for Kars.

Now he was all by himself in a strange deserted environment on land, and his grief and frustration soon gave way to another sensation-- hunger. He needed to find some food after so very long.

Guided by his keen sense of smell, Santana began to crawl across the smooth tiles, in the opposite direction the others had gone. There was surely something to find within the empty construction, he thought, as he made his way, arm over arm, toward an opening in the end of the hall. 

His red-magenta tail began slapping the floor eagerly as he crawled, as he caught a familiar salty scent as he entered a strange chamber, one prominently lettered with the symbols "S-U-P-E-R-M-A-R-K-E-T": if Santana had known how to read, which he didn't.

Dead fish lay neatly arranged on trays of ice, and Santana reached up and grabbed them hungrily, feasting on them cold and raw. He devoured one or two before something else caught his attention, small colorful bags that were lined up on a shelf. He crawled his way over and reached out to grab one.

He popped open the bag with his sharp claws to find that it was mostly filled with air, but inside were small, brittle chips. He shoveled some into his mouth, and savored their salty flavor and crisp texture. Landfolk food was new and appealing to the redhead merman, and he wanted more. He crawled from aisle to aisle, pulling boxes from shelves low enough for him to reach and feasting eagerly on their curious contents.

Elsewhere in the mall, Kars had concluded his tour. He had adorned himself with all sorts of apparel he could find, necklaces, hats stacked on top of each other, slippers worn on his hands as he had no feet. He was a crawling fashion disaster, and had Wamuu and Esidisi not feared their highlord's furious might, they would have laughed.

"I am satisfied," Kars grinned, shuffling his way over to a shiny door to admire his reflection, flicking his tail pridefully.

"Now my lord, shall we try to seek the ocean?" asked Esidisi through gritted teeth and restrained laughter.

"We shall, my friends," Kars replied. "All water comes to the sea or leads to it...first we must find the source and follow it to freedom". 

Propelled by their muscular upper halves, while their scaly lower halves, practically useless outside the water, dragged along behind them, the mermen made the slow, arduous journey toward where they soon found the pipes that led to the mall's drainage system. Gazing down into the canals, they saw the water was cloudy, and the mermen were hesitant, but they knew it led out to a river and into the sea, and whatever filth was in the water was well worth their trouble.

Esidisi jumped in first, followed by Wamuu, who felt the relief of the water's weightlessness and refreshing coolness after so many centuries. Kars came last, gazing hesitantly at all his attire that he'd haphazardly piled onto his body.

"A shame I have to ruin these...a small price to pay for freedom." He closed his eyes and threw himself into the murky water, hats, dresses and all.

Now all they needed was to find the sea.

Back at the supermarket, Santana continued his sampling of the land food, unaware of the others' departure. Soon he had eaten his fill, and curiously sought to see more of this unusual place.

Crawling out of the transparent doors of the shadowy room, he found himself outside of the building. He was under the open air, with the moon shining above, and before him was a large flat rock on which drove strange carriages with glowing lights, while in the distance tall buildings towered up in the sky: nothing like the human cities Santana remembered ages before.

He tried to crawl forward, but the large flat rock was rough. Rougher than the smooth floors of the mall, and painfully scraped his belly, elbows, and the underside of his tail. Santana groaned with discomfort, but stubbornly continued on.

But he wasn't alone.

(Y/N), a security guard of a neighboring building, had just ended their shift at 2AM and were preparing to go home, traveling down the sidewalk toward the bus stop.

And the last thing they expected to see, so late at night, was a naked man struggling prone on the sidewalk, his long vermilion hair wet and glistening.

Except he was no man at all, (Y/N) realized, as it dawned on them at a closer look that where his legs should have been, was instead a glittering, scarlet tail with bright magenta fins.

"H-holy shit," gasped (Y/N), dropping their coffee cup in shock.

••••••••••••

[peachnewt]

Midnight Snack - Gingerbread 1

Merry Christmas, ya’ll!  

I wanted to do something for the holidays involving my slow burn boys.  Somehow, this rose to the top.  Here is the first taste of Louis and Will switching places in the pred/prey relationship, while in a fantasy setting.  ^_^

Midnight Snack - Gingerbread

by peachnewt

Part 1

Once upon a time, a mountain in the West grew so tall that it's peaks, covered in icy snow, would reflect the sun's light like a candle, lighting the valley with a golden glow an hour after sunset.  Thus, the mountain was called the Lantern Pillars and the inhabitants of the valley benefitted from the extra hours of light to store away supplies for the harsh winter and pursue artistic endeavors. Buildings and towers stretched like candles ever upwards, bearing banners and stained glass that could be seen in any blizzard.  The valley, called Wax Wake, became the jewel of the Pillars, a destination for many nobles and merchant passing through the mountains with their exotic goods.  

But one area of the Pillars lay in the lee of the various crags and slopes in the mountain range; a rocky, forested area called the Greyfells.  In that dim and cold stretch of land lived a giant name Louis, the Grey.

Louis was an imposing figure, standing almost eighty feet high with wide shoulders, ice gray eyes, and a silvery blond mane of hair.  This wasn't a "fee-fi-fo-fum" giant that barreled around the countryside in rough furs, demanding maidens to keep his cave tidy, or oxen to feed his hunger, or gold to upkeep his lifestyle.  His mother raised him and his two older brothers better.  He kept his cave in semi-chaotic order with baskets and hangers for his possessions, did his own laundry, varied his diet with vegetables and other forage-foods so he didn't need to spend as much money on meat, and he had a yearly stipend for protecting mountain passes from bandits and clearing out rubble for merchant caravans.  

But Louis still wore rough furs.  Why wear fine wool or linens when they would tear on the slopes?  Plus it was cold up there.

And Louis did have a temper. While he didn't boom "fee-fi-fo-fum", he did grumble like a storm when the local coffee house didn't count out enough beans to last until his next monthly grocery run.  It was basic math, take the normal about of coffee a person needed and scale it up by sixteen.  

When one passed through the mountain trails they saw deep pits from fists, slashes of red, and the strike of an axe blade bigger than a wagon. Sometimes, at night when the Lantern Pillars had dimmed the townsfolk could see sparks flying in the Greyfells, an axe hitting stone.  They heard tale of blood-thirst and violence from a surviving bandit that surrendered himself to the authorities in Wax Wake after the band he had been allied with had been destroyed.  

At one point in the early Autumn, Louis left for a week.  "Visiting family", he said to those left in charge of the mountain pass. When he came back, he had dark bags under his eyes, a large sack over his shoulder, and a posture akin to a starved wolf.  

"I'm working on something important," he growled at the human guards.  "I'll do my rounds, but don't expect anything else unless it's an emergency."  

It had been customary for Wax Wake to hire the giant to help clean the stain glass of their towers, since he could reach them so easily, and hang the new banners for the winter celebrations.  They dared not ask this year.  Louis stayed in the Greyfells.  

No One with any brains or sense of self preservation wandered near the Greyfells, or pried into Louis the Grey's business.  

***

"If I had any brains I would have stayed with a caravan and waited until morning," William hissed to himself and the blizzard.  His booted feet sunk into another snowdrift.

William had been traveling with a group of builders and craftsmen on their way to Wax Wake to peddle their wears and skills.  It was a rite of passage to try their hands in the jeweled city.  But their wagon axel broke halfway down the mountain.  They hadn't the supplies to repair it and civilization was half a day away.  William had offered to find help, and went off in the direction of Wax Wake.  Except a blizzard had descended; white, blinding, howling, turning him around until he could not tell north from south.  

Night had fallen.  William, still lost, squinted for any sign of light in the darkness.  He tucked his hands under his armpits, sinking his chin into the scarf around his neck.  

His nose, not his sight, had been his salvation.  William smelled cloves, ginger, and cinnamon on the breeze.  Cookies? William thought.  Spicebread? He hadn't eaten since noon and his stomach growled, bidding him onward.  

He saw a faint light in the same direction as the scent.  Shelter, he hoped.

William wove through the trees and scratching branches until the bramble broke into a clearing pure white. The wind died in the circle, the snow and moonlight pristine as it lit up a lopsided brown shack caked in bits of white.  William didn't care how badly made the domicile was, it was shelter from the cold, hopefully occupied with someone that could help him, and feed him.  

"Hello?"  William trudged on towards the shack.  Warm spice hung in the air along with the overwhelming aroma of sugar.  And the snow under his feet felt different, more like sand.  

He peered into the shack. A stub of a candle, as big around as his thigh, had been lit and took up the majority of the wooden floor.  No furniture, no people aside from him.  

"Anyone home?"

What an odd house, he mused.  Stepping inside, the smell of gingerbread surrounded him, yet the only piece of gingerbread he saw was a stale hunk the size of his fist to the side of the candle.  If no one was home, they wouldn't be grudge him a bit of gingerbread from the floor.

While chewing on the hunk of gingerbread, delicious, he examined the rest of the rough house. The vaulted roof had gaps filled in with a white paste burned from the candle.  His eye followed the wall, attached to the roof with a tilt, leaving another gap filled in with white paste.  The house wasn't hewn from stone, brick, or wood.  Was it wattle and daub?  Clay?    

Will tested a ragged, brown wall, scratching it with a cold fingernail.  "It's gingerbread?"  

The tiny scratch, however, was enough to test the structural integrity of the shack and find it wanting.

Down came the walls, burying William in giant slabs of gingerbread, snuffing the candle.  

---

Will woke stuck between a pool of slowly cooling wax and a slab of gingerbread pinning him across his stomach.  Will gasped, trying to fill his lungs.  Despite its confectionary nature, the slab of what had once been a roof, or perhaps a wall, could not be shifted no matter how much he struggled.  Pinned as he was, he couldn't eat his way out either.  He would either freeze to death, or suffocate.

Will bleated out into the night for help until his throat felt like sand and the wax under him had hardened.  Then he heard a rumble, vibrating the ground and making the edge of the roof dig deeper into his belly.

An avalanche?  

Instead Will heard of roar of frustration and the slab over him was lifted as if it was light as a feather.

A giant face, bearded, blond, and full of icy fury stared at him.  The whispered giant of the Greyfells dressed in furs and breath of frost.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?!"  

***

Louis had stomped through the forest towards the protective circle he had set up for his project.  He carried a bag of red candies and a pot of icing with a small trowel.  If he could get all of the decorations up tonight then he could sleep in the next day. When he arrived, he saw a set of footprints in the pristine snow, and the gingerbread house collapsed.  Of course when he lifted the roof he'd find a meddling human.  

"Are you fuckin' kidding me!?"  Louis snapped.  

"What?" breathed the human.  

Louis tossed the gingerbread roof to the ground where it broke into four pieces, and then pulled the brown haired human out with one hand.  He stared at little menace, eye to beady eye. "I've been trying to keep this damned house together with sugar paste and a prayer, and then you come along and nibble on it like a fuckin' mouse until it falls?!"

"It was an accident!" yelled the human, pawing at the large hand that held him with his one free arm.  The tips of his feet, sticking out the other end of the giant's fist, twitched.  "I was lost and looking for shelter and food. And the shack wasn't stable, I barely touched it!  And the only piece of gingerbread I ate had already fallen from the walls!"  

"Shack!?" Fury lit up the giant's eyes like lightning.  He squeezed the human just enough to make him wheeze.  "I worked all day on this house and you call it a shack?"  

"S-sorry, but by definition it was a shack.  Though a delicious one.  I'm sure you can build a better one in a few hours."  

Louis didn't want to admit that the fallen shack had taken him two days, and had been his best effort out of seven.  

"I'm out of patience, out of my mind, and out of coffee," growled Louis.  He felt cruel and liked it, tapping into the reputation giants had gained as blood-thirsty ogres.  "You picked the wrong day to piss me off.  Cause I also haven't eaten in the last five days."  

Will gulped, suddenly nervous at seeing the giant's perfect grin.  "There is something admiral to be found in fasting in protest or in pursuit of a passion.  Why break such a streak?  Why not six days?"  

"Oh, I don't know."  Louis let his growling stomach speak for itself, causing the human to blanche.  "Maybe because it'll make me feel better."

"I'm sure we can talk about this in a reasonable manner!" screeched the human as he was pulled closer to the giant's mouth.  

"Reason left long ago."  Around the same time he had left to visit home and got saddled with this ridiculous task.

"There is always time for reason.  Starting with introductions!  I'm William James Rowe from Brex."  William stuck his hand out in the giant's directions, as if expecting a handshake.  "And you are?"  

Louis unclenched his jaw and breathed in the smell of sweat, sugar, and fear.  "Hungry."  

Part 2 

[ivebeentolddreamingsfree]

1 I've Been Told Dreaming's Free

Chapter One

The introductory chapter. We meet Charlotte, a young woman who has moved to Seattle to go to college.

Ever since her father took her to Seattle for a weekend trip when she was seven, all Charlotte talked about was moving there after she graduated high school. She applied to and was accepted at the University of Washington where she intended on studying environmental law.

As the Greyhound bus rattled along I90, inching closer and closer to the Emerald City, the butterflies in Charlotte’s stomach multiplied. She sat in the back of the bus, looking out the window, counting raindrops and the minutes until she walked through the front door of her apartment.

Her mother was worried about her living alone in the city, but Charlotte couldn’t wait for the space and the quiet. She shared her bedroom at home with her younger sister, Kelsey. This 450-square foot studio apartment would be all hers. Her parents agreed to a monthly allowance of $100 but Charlotte would need to rummage up the rest of the $350 rent along with living expenses. She would have to find a job in addition to her classes. She didn’t care. It was freedom, it was adulthood, it was SEATTLE!

It was after 10 PM when the bus pulled into the station on King Street. Charlotte planned to walk to Pioneer Square, where she was more likely to get a taxi to take her to Fremont. After she pulled her long, ginger curls into a ponytail, she hoisted to backpack on and picked up her suitcase, giving the bus driver a smile and a murmured, “thank you.” She was on her way.

By the time she reached the square, her back was aching and her suitcase felt like it weighed a ton. She stopped to rest for a moment when a live band started to play in the bar across the street. Charlotte grinned. This, she thought. This is exactly what she hoped to find when she moved here. Kids about her age, poured out of the bar in matching uniforms of cut off shorts on top of leggings stuffed into their Doc Martens, tank tops under flannel shirts under leather biker jackets. These were her people.

Charlotte crossed the street and wanted desperately to go inside but her suitcase and backpack told her some other time. She grabbed the shirt sleeve of a passing boy with long, brown hair and a big nose. “Hey, uh, who’s that? Who’s playing?”

The boy looked down at her hand on his arm and then at her. “What? Are you running away from home or something?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “The band?”

“New Kids On The Block.” He laughed and high-fived his friend as they walked away.

She stood on the sidewalk and listened for a few more minutes. The band was heavy, loud, a little rough, but that singer … wow. Charlotte mused that he could probably break the glass of the windows with that voice if he really wanted to. But it was getting late and she knew she should really get off the streets and into her apartment.

The studio was on the fourth floor of an old warehouse building. It had one of those cool freight elevators and the walls were the old, red brick. All the ductwork was exposed and the door to her studio slide open and closed. She stood and surveyed her blank canvas. The landlord was nice enough to leave a full-size bed, small table with two chairs, and a beanbag. Eventually, Charlotte hoped to find a decent couch and a television and a bike. But for now, this was heaven.

The following day, Charlotte registered for classes: economics, basic writing, math I, and an elective, photography. She was amazed that was even open yet, considering the school issued every student their own Nikon with an unlimited supply of black and white film. With a spring in her step, she was off to find a job.

Charlotte had hoped to find something close to campus so she would be able to pop in for her shift right after her last afternoon class got out at 3:30. But she didn’t fare as well in the job department. Everything near campus was already taken. The coffeehouses, bookstores, and record stores were already staffed.

She found herself standing in front of a music store in Fremont with a “Help wanted” sign in the window. Fremont was still close enough if she got a bike. So she went inside.

Drum kits were set up on the floor, guitars hung by their necks on the wall. Amplifiers and speakers were stacked on top of each other. Everything from drumsticks to guitar picks lined shelves. Charlotte didn’t know the first thing about instruments. She just enjoyed the music that they made.

An older man with glasses and a bald patch looked at her blankly.

“Hello, I’m Charlotte. Charlie. Or Chuck,” she giggled nervously. “My nickname is Chuck. But, um, I saw your sign in the window. I’m looking for a part time job.”

“See that amp over there?” The man pointed. Charlotte wasn’t sure exactly what he was pointing at.

“Y-yes, sir?”

“If ya can pick it up, ya can work.”

“Oh, uh, okay.” She walked over to a small black speaker and picked it up, turning around to show him.

He laughed. “That’s just a head, honey. That is an amp.” He pointed at the large black box next to her that said Marshall across the front.

“Oh. Right.” She put the speaker down and picked up the Marshall, struggling with it, when the door opened.

The man instantly forgot about her and started talking to the person that evidently came in. Charlotte wouldn’t know, she had a giant Marshall in her arms. But that voice …? She put the amp down and then scoffed in disbelief. New Kids On The Block!

“Oh, hey, Runaway,” he laughed.

“Shut up.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Working. Hopefully.” Charlotte looked at the old man.

“Sure, kid. Part time, four bucks an hour. Let’s see how long ya last.”

“Yes!”

New Kids On The Block turned out to be a kid named Stone. Weird and obnoxious but harmless. Through him, Charlotte was able to discern a few other kids’ names like Jeff, Mark, and Chris. They would come in to the store all the time and test the instruments. That’s what they called it. Her boss called it, “You break it, you buy it.”

[fanficimagery]

Breaking Free

Summary: Imagine being something that HYDRA had no idea what they helped create. Thor recognizes you for what you are and takes you to Asgard to learn. Now.. imagine breaking free.

Words: 5.2K Warnings: Mentions of scars/torture. Violence. Brief active shooter situation. Marvel!AU. Frigga lived, Odin died. Thanos didn't happen.

Another day, another HYDRA base taken out.

The Avengers have had various tips about where the scattered fugitives could be hunkering down, but nothing proved useful until now. And with how determined the men and women were to keep their base from getting into Avengers' hands, the team knew they had to be hiding something of value.

"Alright, FRIDAY, send 'em out." Tony drops a small suitcase at his feet, the case popping open so small bots can take flight and scan every nook and cranny of the base.

Wanda, Steve, and Natasha have accompanied Tony after preliminary scans showed no bodies in the building, while Bucky and Clint take stock of any weapons they've pulled. Even Bruce is there, on standby for any medical emergencies.

"Sir, my scans have picked up a room underground with a single heartbeat within."

"A secret room? Yay. Send me the route to take, FRIDAY." Then addressing the team, he says, "We got a body. Still breathing in a hidden room. Time to investigate."

Natasha's hands immediately rest on the guns strapped to her thighs and Steve takes the shield off his back to hold out in front of him. Tony meets Wanda's eye and she nods, taking the lead with a red shield faintly glowing in front of her. From behind, Tony guides her.

"How did we miss a body?" Natasha wonders, keeping her footsteps light.

"The room is underground and HYDRA's apparently gotten smarter. They've layered something around the room to keep it from being detected."

"Something?" Wanda muses. "You mean you don't know what it is? You are losing your touch, old man."

Steve and Natasha quietly chuckle as Tony mockingly gasps.

They soon come into a room, it's floor looking like tiled stone. There are no doors, no windows, nothing.

"Okay," Steve drawls. "What now?"

"We go down," Tony says. "At least that's what FRIDAY is telling me."

Everyone glances down and Wanda shoots a blast of red energy downward that goes through the floor without damaging it. Sure enough, she picks up what FRIDAY is telling Tony. "I sense them," she says. "There's someone down there."

Natasha walks over to the back left corner of the room, she stepping on a button in the floor. Two of the stone tiles slide open, presenting a set of stairs.

"I love secret rooms," Tony exhales with restrained glee.

Tony reclaims the lead and the four are surprised when they reach the bottom. The underground room is much larger than they anticipated and, in fact, there's a room within a room. The walls to the room are clearly one-way if the oblivious girl is anything to go by, and she's clearly under surveillance given the numerous camera angles they've got up on screen and her vitals beeping off of another.

Wanda hesitantly walks up towards the door, a frown tugging down the corner of her lips.

"You okay there?" Natasha asks, stepping up to Wanda's side.

"I.. know her." At her admission, Tony and Steve quickly look up.

          ----------

Any day that the doctors aren't poking or prodding is a good day, so today you're enjoying the day off by reading a book. You've stayed in bed since the room is unusually cold (HYDRA sometimes liked to be cruel and change up the temperature in the room), thumbs hooked through the holes of your long sleeves and blanket pulled up to your chest.

You've received breakfast and lunch on time leading you to believe the day is just like any other, mostly, so you're startled when the door hisses open and in walks a face you haven't seen in years.

"W-Wanda?" The book falls aside and you hesitantly stand up in disbelief.

"Hello, Y/N." She looks good. Almost as pretty as the day she and her brother walked freely into HYDRA's arms, and before they started the testing. You huff a laugh of awe before others walk in behind her, and your smile immediately drops. You scramble onto and across your bed, putting your back into the corner. "Wait!" Wanda pleads, holding the three newcomers behind her. "It's okay. They're friends. Remember the Avengers? The ones Strucker told us were bad?"

"Y-Yeah.."

"This is them. Well some of them." Heart beating faster, your gaze darts from one face to the next. The longer you take them in, the more you recognize them. There's the one they call Iron Man, the one they call Captain America, and the Black Widow. "They took me in after Pietro and I did everything to tear them apart, and now look at me. I'm an Avenger now."

"HYDRA said you went rogue." Wanda nods, smiling faintly. "I was proud of you."

Wanda shakily laughs, she stepping closer. Slowly, but surely, you come out of the corner to meet her halfway. "I am sorry I didn't look for you sooner. After Pietro died, I-"

"Pietro died?" Wanda nods, eyes tearing up. "I-I'm so sorry," you say. "He was- he was-"

"I know." Wanda pulls you into her arms and you let her hold you, your arms slowly wrapping around her as you shed a few tears for the boy who sometimes tried to console you through your own testing. "Come on. You can grieve on the jet. We need to go."

"Go? Go where?" Pulling back, you glance at the other three who are still lingering by the door.

"With us," Iron Man tells you. "And just so we're clear, what exactly is it that you do? Pietro had the whole speed thing going for him and Wanda is possibly the strongest Avenger, after me of course, but you? We're in the dark here."

"Oh. I, um, I-"

"She doesn't know," Wanda says, turning to face her team while holding you close to her side. "HYDRA did everything they could to her, but Y/N never displayed like Pietro and I. Unless they figured something out after..?"

You shake your head. "No. They never did. I think they were getting tired and were about to write me off as a failure."

"Well they're gone now." Wanda assures you. "So you're coming with us where you can properly recover and our doctors can look you over."

"A-Are you sure?"

"Positive." Captain America smiles at you, placing his shield on his back. "Any friend of Wanda's is a friend of ours."

You shakily nod and then startle when the Black Widow hands you your pair of slippers. You hadn't even seen her move and she flashes you a grin in apology. Then after you have on your slippers, you refuse to take anything else from the room. You want nothing of HYDRA.

Iron Man leads the way out with Captain America and Black Widow at your back. Wanda remains at your side, an arm around your shoulders as she tries to keep your attention so you don't see the bodies that are still strewn about.

You have to close your eyes against the sunlight and the fresh air feels heavenly that Wanda holds you just a little tighter.

"I know. I know," she murmurs.

You're led to a fancy looking jet where three other men are waiting. You freeze upon the sight of them, but Captain America is quick to clear the air.

"It's okay. They're Avengers too," he says. "That's Clint, Bruce, and Bucky, but you probably know them as Hawkeye, the Hulk, and-"

"The Winter Soldier," you mumble. The team, however, hear you and Bucky shifts uncomfortably. "HYDRA was really pissed when you went rogue. I was proud of you too," you say while cracking a smile.

Wanda chuckles as Bucky loosens up. "You are proud of anything that was a thorn in HYDRA's side."

"Of course. It was different for you and Pietro. You signed up for their testing. HYDRA plucked me from the streets and forced it on me, so anything that pissed them off was okay in my books."

You're placed on the jet while the others finish loading up, talking about how the mission went. Every time you ask a question about one of the Avengers, Wanda corrects you to use their real names instead of their superhero names.

Just before lift off, Clint approaches you with what appears to be a change of clothes. "Here's something of ours if you're interested. I bet you're just itching to get out of HYDRA clothing."

You accept them. "Do you have any long sleeves? I'm not- I'm not a fan of short sleeves."

"It's kind of warm out. Are you sure?"

Gulping, you nod as you set the clothes down in your lap. Taking a moment to think about it, you tuck in your thumbs and pull up your sleeves. "I'm sure." On display are your scarred arms, scars from where the doctors sliced in hopes of activating some sort of healing ability.

"Oh Y/N," Wanda sighs.

Clint stares, jaw clenching the longer he stares. You catch sight of Steve and Bucky staring, so you quickly pull your sleeves back down. "I'm fine with my clothes for now. I'll just change later."

"I, uh, I have a long sleeve if you're comfortable with wearing it," Clint says. Meeting his gaze, you eventually nod and he excuses himself to go retrieve it.

Wanda nudges you. "I think his fatherly instincts just kicked in."

You bite back a laugh, shaking your head. "Shut up."

The Avengers are everything you hoped for. They help acclimate you to being free and having choices again, and Wanda is there with you every step of the way when you have to visit with the doctors for weekly check-ins. They're all very interested to know what HYDRA did to you, but their testing is a lot more professional and they continuously ask you if you're okay with what they plan to do before actually doing it.

But since they have taken you in, the Avengers have also made it known that they'd prefer you to know some self defense just in case you ever needed to defend yourself. Reluctantly you agreed with them, and Natasha and Clint worked with you while Steve and Bucky offered advice from the sidelines.

Not every day was a good day, however, and sometimes you just didn't want to be disturbed. But when those episodes happened, it was Wanda and Clint who dragged you out for some fresh air. And when one of those episodes got really bad, Clint took you away for a weekend and it was then that you met his family. His wife Laura was the sweetest, and his three children were adorable. And out of his three children, it was Lila who you bonded with almost immediately.

Laura and Clint were glad to see you get along with the children, so it became a weekly visit. Then the two parents were just ecstatic when you and Wanda volunteered to watch the kids so they could have a date night.

You spend months with the Avengers, bonding and opening up to the superheroes and their family, but with your luck it was only a matter of time before things went sideways.

          ----------

The Avengers have taken over one of the public parks- essentially making it a large family day for anyone and everyone. Tony hired caterers to make all sorts of foods that could be eaten with just your hands, Steve and Bucky brought in all sorts of games and activities for the children to do, and Clint ended up flying in his family for the day.

You end up with Lila and Cooper, tossing a baseball back and forth as Laura keeps an eye on Nate nearby. Every Avenger is scattered about, interacting with the kids and just having a blast. One minute you're laughing at the brother and sister teasing one another, and the next gunshots are ringing out.

Lila and Cooper immediately run towards you, panic clear in their eyes as screams rip through the air, and you tuck them under your arms before heading for Laura who's screaming for her children. On your way towards her, you catch one of the gunmen taking aim in your general direction and you don't even think as you yank the kids to a stop before wrapping yourself around them as best as you can. You're practically curled around the kids when the shooting stops, the panicked civilians knocking you over in their rush to get out of the park.

You fall, taking Cooper and Lila with you, and then rolling off of them when you think you've hurt them. They're obviously crying, but Laura is soon there to try and soothe them. You're on your back, staring towards the sky when she asks if you're okay.

"Y/N? You alright? I can't thank you enough for being with the kids," she says, relieved.

With Nate settled on her hip, Lila and Cooper wrap themselves around their mother. You grin and shakily raise a hand to give her a thumbs up. "I'm-" You cough, seeing and feeling spittle fly. Only it's not spittle.

Laura's eyes widen. "Why are you coughing up blood? Did you get shot?!"

It's then the pain in your back hits you, but the pain is radiating from your back to your front. Your eyes tear up and you manage to lift your head to glance down at your chest where two spots of red are just blossoming.

"No, no, no," Laura mumbles. She turns around in a frantic, calling for her husband. "Clint! Clint, she's been shot!" She practically pushes Nate into Lila's arm, the younger girl taking her brother and pulling her other brother back with her when her dad and the others rush towards them. Laura drops to her knees. "Come on, Y/N, stay awake."

"What are we looking at here?" Clint asks as he drops on your other side. "I'm really sorry, Y/N, but I'm going to have to rip your shirt open." You nod and then cry out when the ripping jostles you. Clint swears. "Shit. Two gunshot wounds. Cap, we need to get her out of here asap."

"Move. I can help." You glance above Clint and see Wanda with her boyfriend Vision. The purple being is frowning down at you, but your gaze moves with Wanda as her eyes and right hand start to glow. She sends a pulse of red energy towards your chest, but you feel nothing. Wanda's brow furrows. "It's not- it is not working."

You cough again, blood splattering your chin, and Wanda works harder. You don't know how you know, but you know nothing they do will work. It's time. Gulping, you shakily reach for Wanda's hand. "I-It's okay." Wanda's hand stops glowing and her bottom lip wobbles. "It's okay."

"I have the suit," Tony says. "If I fly her right now-"

But you shake your head, cutting him off. "I'll still die." Tony clams up, jaw clenching as vulnerability seeps into his gaze. Everyone you've gotten to know since they've taken you in is gathered around. You stare at each and every one of them, offering them a bloody smile. "T-Thank you. For everything."

Your gaze remains on Wanda as your vision starts to blacken around the edges, the last thing you see being Wanda as she openly loses control of her emotions.

Vision is quick to squat behind Wanda and pull her back into his embrace, and Clint bows his head. Laura cries but keeps herself under control, she being the one to reach out and shut Y/N's eyes. She's also the one to close Y/N's shirt before getting up to her feet to console her children. Tony has Pepper reeled in close to him, Steve and Bucky are left staring in disbelief, and Natasha, Bruce, and Sam are doing their best to keep everyone else at bay.

Laura and Pepper eventually leave, taking the kids back to the Tower with Sam as their escort. The rest of the team stay to give statements about the suspects they apprehended and to get Y/N's body released to them asap.

"We can't move her," Bruce says once the cops have taken over and set a perimeter around them with yellow tape. They've even offered them a tarp to keep people from taking pictures of the body. "Not yet."

"Can we at least get a tent?" Wanda asks. "I don't like all the gawking."

The police proceed to take their sweet time getting the Avengers what they need, so Tony has something setup with all his fancy tech. Then within the privacy of the tent, everyone seems to sag and let the grief overtake their features once more.

As everyone mourns quietly, it's Natasha who notices the smoke. "Guys? What's going on?" Y/N's body starts to smoke more and more, and everyone's eyes widen. "Wanda, can you make it stop?"

Wanda hurries over and lets red energy envelop Y/N's body, but she still continues to smoke. "It's not working. Why isn't it working?"

Y/N's body then bursts into flames and everyone scrambles around. Wanda cannot put her body out, nor can any amount of patting with a spare blanket. But almost as soon as the flames started, they went out and left in Y/N's body's place is a cocoon of ash.

"What.. the hell?" Bucky murmurs.

Wanda is crying again, confusion obvious in her features as everyone tries to piece together what the hell just happened. Bruce goes to squat down for a closer observation, but Vision stops him. "Don't. I don't believe she is finished."

"Finished? What the hell do you mean by finished?" Tony asks.

Something within the ashes twitches and the whole team freezes. More movement is seen until a perfectly unblemished arm breaks free. Wanda gasps and hurries forward, dropping down to her knees as the cocoon where Y/N's face is cracks.

"Y/N?"

The cocoon continues to crack all over as Y/N starts to move more frequently, and Wanda helps her sit up.

"Aw hell, she's naked."

You blink rapidly at the now flustered Avengers standing around, accepting a blanket that Natasha wraps around your shoulders. "Um, guys? What happened?" The Avengers stare in awe and disbelief as the girl they watched die right before their very eyes is helped to her feet. Feeling a breeze has you rearranging the blanket to wrap all the way around you and under your arms, and it's then you realize every scar HYDRA ever gave you is now gone. "Wanda? Is- is this my power?"

Wanda is still speechless, so it's Vision who says, "Is anyone familiar with the myth of the Phoenix?"

You blink owlishly at the purple being, letting Wanda take one of your arms as she runs her fingers up and down smooth skin. And before anyone can really question what is going on, the sound of the crowd outside amps up. You look around in a panic, yelping when a rather large man enters the tent.

"Thor?" Steve muses. "What are you doing back on Earth?"

"Heimdall saw something. Something extraordinary," he breathes in awe. Though he answers Steve, his astonished gaze is dead set on you. "A Phoenix, as I live and breathe."

"Uh you know about this?" Tony asks.

"Can you help?" Wanda wonders, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

Thor steps closer, his gaze now darting to your sides and above your head. "Magnificent."

"Uh, Pointbreak? What's going on?"

Thor snaps out of his awestruck demeanor, he chuckling and smiling sheepishly at you. "I'm sorry. I just- we thought your kind to be extinct."

"M-my kind?"

"A Phoenix. Mother has sent me to offer you sanctuary on Asgard. A Phoenix who has just risen has much to learn. We can help you, my lady."

You lean further into Wanda. "No."

"What?" Thor frowns. "But we can help you. You can learn to fight and to use your powers. You can read up on your history."

While his offer is intriguing, you can't help but feel a certain way. "I don't want to leave the people I've come to think of as family."

Clint sidles up to your other side, faintly grinning. Then looking at Thor, he asks, "Why can't she learn here? With us."

"Because a fledgling Phoenix learning control could be dangerous," Thor explains. "Your friend could stay here, but if she slips on her control it could be catastrophic for whatever part of Midgard she's in, including the people within her vicinity. But in Asgard, under the watchful eye of my Mother, all will be well."

Every person in the tent remains quiet and it's easy to see that they're all now having second thoughts. You really don't want to leave, but if what Thor is saying is true, then you don't want to hurt anyone or damage anything.

So realizing you have no other choice, you step forward. "I'll go."

"What? No," Wanda says. She steps forward with you, shaking her head. "If you go, I'm going with you."

"You need to stay." Smiling softly at your friend, you say, "Earth is going to need it's strongest Avenger. I- I don't know what my future holds, but I know it involves you and everyone else," you then say while staring at everyone gathered around, "but I just need to figure myself out first. And if that's in Asgard, then so be it. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Just so you're prepared," Bruce starts, anxiously rubbing the lens of his glasses with a small cloth, "time works differently in Asgard. Six months there would be a year here."

"So in other words, learn control as quickly as possible? Got it."

Wanda frowns. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes. Not only do I want to, but I need to."

"So it's settled," Thor booms. "The fledgling comes to Asgard."

"Y/N," you say. "If we're going to do this, my name is Y/N."

"Of course. Apologies, my lady."

The sincerity in his voice and expression oddly makes you blush, and Wanda snickers when she catches sight of it. You nudge her in retaliation. "I'll go, but can someone please get me some clothes before I'm whisked away to another planet?"

"On it," Natasha muses. "I'll pick something up from the tower and inform the others."

"Okay. Thank you."

When Natasha leaves, Wanda gets you a chair to take a seat in. Bruce politely asks if he can check your vitals and you oblige him, knowing full well his scientist brain is all over the place with your resurrection. Steve, Bucky, Tony, and Clint can't seem to stop hovering and you have to continuously smother your laughter when Steve lays a hand on your shoulder only to remember that you're naked under the blanket before snatching his hand back. He tries to play it off every time, but Wanda and Bucky see right through him.

Then when Natasha finally returns, she's not alone. Pepper, Laura, and the kids immediately form a group hug with you, and you let them hold you and cry until they're done. They have so many questions that you can't answer because you don't know how to.

Lila is the most vocal about you not leaving to Asgard when you tell them the plan, but you and Clint take turns assuring her that it's for the best. She eventually agrees and the team gives you a semblance of privacy so you can change.

Once done, the Avengers and family take turns giving you hugs. You shed your fair share of tears, especially with Wanda and Lila, and then you turn towards Thor. "Alright. I'm ready."

Asgard is completely breathtaking and overwhelming all at once. It had been a bit of a challenge in the beginning with everyone staring in awe at the mere sight of you, but you soon realized why when Queen Frigga explained. Fledgling Phoenixes could not hide their auras, so pretty much every Asgardian could see the aura of a fiery bird around your persons.

Queen Frigga personally watches over your intense training when she's not meditating with you, and you slowly adapt to the strict schedule in your temporary home. The Queen also gives you history lessons about your kind which leads you to asking if you're actually a true Phoenix. The experiments HYDRA did gave their subjects bastardized powers, so if they gave you the powers then how could you be a Phoenix?

But Queen Frigga squashes every one of your doubts with the help of Asgard's healers, and they tell you that creature blood has always ran through your veins. And because you had creature blood, it voided anything and everything HYDRA pumped into you. The Phoenix within had just been dormant up until the point of your death were it finally awakened and led you to evolving. And now that you had been awakened, there was no going back.

Six months had come and gone, and though you visited with Heimdall weekly to check up on the others back on Earth, you missed them like crazy. Thor had visited once and you made sure to send them souvenirs, he then coming back with letters and pictures from the team, and drawings from the kids. It was all bittersweet, but you knew Asgard was where you needed to be for now.

The training intensifies once you realize how to release your Phoenix powers without injuring innocent people standing nearby and how to reign it all back in, and once you get that under control the hand-to-hand comes a lot easier. The Warriors Three and Sif think it's a great honor to spar with you, and an even greater honor to see you in all your Phoenix glory when they eventually get their asses handed to them.

Another six months pass by meaning you've been gone from Earth for two years, so you're relieved when Sif brings word to you and Thor that Midgard is under an alien invasion that they're having trouble keeping up with.

You glance up at Queen Frigga, having been walking with her and Thor, and she smiles adoringly at you. "Go. You're ready."

She leads you over to a balcony overlooking her kingdom and Thor holds his hand out, summoning Mjölnir. He smiles leisurely. "Keep up, little Phoenix." He then runs and leaps off the balcony banister, catching Mjölnir midair and heading for the Bifrost Observatory.

Gathering up the skirt of your maroon dress, the shimmering wings that have been tattooed on your back unfurl into fiery masses as you roll your shoulders. Your eyes blaze a bright golden yellow and Frigga chuckles as she cups your face in the palm of her hands. "Go show my son that a woman can be just as powerful as he is, if not more."

You smirk and kick off your sandals, turning and rushing towards the banister. Fiery wings flap, lifting you into the air, and you speed towards Bifrost Observatory to go help your family.

          ----------

The Avengers are scattered about the city, comms being the only thing keeping them in touch with one another as they fight to contain the aliens and rescue as many civilians as they can. They are no stranger to alien invasions, and fortunately Tony and Bruce had enough satellites around the Earth's atmosphere to detect such a breach, but this invasion is a lot more organized than they're used to. Not even the combined efforts of Wanda and Vision can keep the aliens at bay.

"We need a plan," Clint pants, wiping sweat and blood from his brow. "We're losing ground here."

"What we need is a Hail Mary," Tony says. Flying overhead, he turns so he's facing the sky. "You hear that, oh watchful keeper of the Bifrost? Send us Pointbreak back!"

"His name is Heimdall," Natasha grunts. "If you want him to hear us, how about you use his name?"

"We're getting our asses handed to us, Romanoff. I'll use whatever damn name I please."

"Uh, guys?" Steve says. "I think Heimdall heard us."

Hulk roars off in the distance as a blue beam of light shoots down from the heavens. Thor flies out of it not a moment later, red cape billowing behind him. He emits short bursts of lightning bolts, lightning crackling outward the moment he lands in a crouch and slams Mjölnir onto the ground.

The aliens seem to go into a frenzy then and the Avengers all sigh as a collective.

"Of course Thor made it worse," Bucky groans.

Wanda lands next to Thor a moment later, fatigue weighing her down. Thor smiles down at her as she asks, "How is she?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself?"

Wanda's brow furrows before a screech can be heard resonating from within the Bifrost. She looks back just as an enormous fiery Phoenix soars out right after. The Phoenix makes a loop, screeching and fanning flames downward at the gathered aliens.

"Holy shit!" Clint practically shouts. "Is that Y/N?!"

The aliens start congregating, backing themselves into one another, back to back. The Phoenix targets them, flying circles around them, coming in tighter and tighter until there's a vortex of flames that disintegrates the enemies.

"She truly is magnificent, is she not?" Thor beams.

With the aliens distracted and flocking towards the newer and bigger threat, the Avengers rush to meet up. Everyone tiredly greets Thor before going back to watch the fiery bird do damage to the aliens' numbers.

"One year in Asgard and she's learned all that?" Tony wonders.

"Aye. She took her training very seriously. If my Father were still alive, he'd have been pleased with her attitude towards learning."

The Phoenix lands not too far from the Avengers, but close enough to see her glowing eyes and her veins glowing like embers beneath her skin. An alien makes a beeline right for her, but instead of panicking Y/N merely holds her arm up, palm out, and the alien disintegrates mid-run.

Bucky whistles appreciatively. "Am I the only one glad she's on our side?"

Steve chuckles. "Nope."

Not another alien takes its chance, so Y/N reigns in her wings. They disappear back into tattoo form and Y/N stands there barefoot, her Asgardian dress billowing around her legs as she walks back towards those she's come to call family.

"Done already?" Thor muses.

"Thought I'd let you have some fun," you tease. "Can't have you running back to your Mother complaining that I didn't let you play."

"Funny." Thor starts to twirl Mjölnir, chuckling. "But I'll take what I can get."

Thor lifts off, raining down lightning at the scattering aliens.

"Y/N?" You glance towards Wanda, smiling faintly. "Are you okay?"

"Never better, little witch." You wink and she starts to laugh, closing the distance between you to embrace you.

"You're only twelve weeks older. I am not so little."

The team chuckles, everyone then taking turns to greet you in some form. Clint's the only other one to embrace you, his hug tight and relief obvious.

"Not to cut this reunion short," Tony says, "but I think Thor can use a helping hand. Lets show these aliens that Earth's not a planet to be messed with."

"As if you even had to ask," you say.

Fiery wings unfurling once more, you hover midair, smiling when Wanda joins you.

"Ready, witch?"

"Ready, little bird."

Steve chuckles, tightening the strap of his shield on his forearm. "Avengers! Assemble."

[heartsofbeskar]

from the ashes

chapter six | read on AO3

din djarin x oc

WARNINGS: violence, swearing

WORDS: 3.2K

EXCERPT: He extended his other arm to her. Stepping as close as she could, she wrapped an arm tightly around his shoulders. The arm he had held out to her now circled her waist, pulling her even closer. She could feel every curve and edge of his armour through her clothes. His helmet turned towards her.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

PREV | NEXT

Ten couldn’t think of a better sound than the Ursa’s engines finally running again. Decidedly less strained than before, she thought. Though that may have just been wishful thinking.

They’d been sequestered on the asteroid for the better part of two standard weeks. The time they’d lost was valuable, but nothing compared to the time they’d lose if the Ursa bailed on them mid-flight.

On the surface, spending time with the Mandalorian was not too much different than spending time alone. He barely spoke unless he was spoken to, and moved around like a ghost, despite the heavy armour. But there was something … imposing about the man. Not threatening, but Ten could feel his presence in a room, sometimes even feel his eyes on her. It wholly unsettled her— not that she’d let him know that.

Much — well actually all — of their conversation in the recent days had centered around where the hell to go next. It was obvious an Imperial conspirator had inside knowledge of the job and that Ten and Mando were the ones working it. They had a list of contacts from Greef Karga who may have information; to seek out those contacts now would surely be suicide, for everyone involved.

“You feel sure about Ronhar Kraz?” Ten asked. The armoured man sat to her right nodded slowly. Kraz was a businessman who specialized in textiles and linen trade between the core and the Outer Rim. Seemingly benign, but he used those same textiles and linen to smuggle weapons during the days of the Empire. For both sides.

“It feels too obvious,” she mused. “Former weapons smuggler turned Imperial double agent. Why even attach your name onto this if so many people in the Outer Rim know you worked with the Empire?”

“You’re assuming a level of intelligence and foresight I don’t often attribute to Imps,” he said.

“That’s the mindset that gets you fucked over eventually,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Is that what happened to you?”

Ten turned her head sharply, glaring at him. “You should watch that metal mouth or I’ll find something that will bend beskar.”

She heard a short breathy noise she’d come to known as a laugh processed through his modulator.

They’d almost passed through the outer boundary of the asteroid field, so she focused on steering through the last of the rocks. An itch had settled under her skin in the past few days, an urge to go, go, go, escape the confines of this belt they’d found themselves unexpectedly marooned within. As much as she still dreaded getting tangled up in Empire business, she felt that coursing of adrenaline in her veins that had been escaping her for many months now. That thrill of her life being put on the line of her own volition.

That adrenaline spiked again as they were fired on.

—

“Shit!” Ten cursed, the ship veering sharply upon impact. Din reacted on instinct, seat spinning towards the weapons controls he’d made a point of committing to memory. “They must have followed our ion trail to the edge of the belt. Have the fuckers just been waiting here the whole time?”

Another hit struck them, almost sending Din flying into the viewport. As he lurched, his gaze locked on the ships in front of them, before Ten steered them quickly away in an evasive maneuver. The ships pursued. He wasn’t surprised he recognized the ships, but he was surprised that—

“Those are New Republic ships. That’ll be why we weren’t vapourized on sight.” He paused as he attempted to target lock the ships still following close behind. There were too many asteroids lingering in the belt’s gravitational pull for them to jump to hyperspace. He needed to buy time. “Are you wanted?”

Ten didn’t look at him as she pushed their speed, but he could somehow feel her rolling her eyes at him. “No, I’m not an idiot. Even if I was, the Ursa’s totally off register, there’s no way—”

“Torpedo approaching lower left engine exhaust,” he interrupted. Cursing again, she took them as far right as possible — and right towards a large asteroid. Din braced, but she slowed their speed enough to whip them quickly around its circumference. He had to admit she was an impressive pilot.

“Are you wanted?”

“...Yes.”

“Now why am I not surprised by—”

She was cut off by the incoming communication alarm. They exchanged glances before Ten reached forward and set off the acceptance switch.

“Unidentified vessel,” came the drone of a New Republic officer. “Cut your engines immediately and prepare for boarding.”

“And why the hell should we do that?” Ten snapped, taking them through a narrow gap between asteroids. Din rolled his eyes now beneath the helmet.

“You are wanted for the murder of Jula Lars. Cut your engines immediately and prepare to be taken into custody. Failure to comply can result in—”

Ten slammed her hand down on the controls and cut off the channel. Din noticed her other hand tightening on the steering gears, knuckles going white. The scars he knew to be there were barely visible.

“Those fuckers … do you have a target lock on the ships? I’m going to blast them from the fucking sky,” she snapped.

As lightly as he dared, Din placed a hand on her arm that was closest to him. “They’re only doing their job. Obviously the Imps put them on our tail. No one else knew we were there.”

“Oh and you’re now the sudden pacifist?” she turned her head to glare at him. It felt like ice began flowing through his veins.

“We don’t need to help create more victims to the Empire,” he said lowly. Something flashed in her eyes. She kept eye contact with him for as long as she dared before turning forward to continue steering.

“Fine,” was all she said. A pause. More shots volleying around them, missing the ship as it weaved. “Then we need to go to hyperspace. Now.”

“There’s still too many asteroids we could—”

“Then I guess you’re just going to have to trust me, Mandalorian,” she said, and she was already engaging, then ramping their speed and then— rocks flew past them as superliminal speeds as they were catapulted into hyperspace. Din held his breath the entire time, certain they were headed straight for a rock which, at these speeds, would vapourize them for sure.

He let it go when he realized they were clear. Looking beside him, he saw Ten staring at him, her scarred eyebrow raised. “I told you to trust me.”

He scoffed, still feeling on edge. “Set the course for Leotis IV.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

—

Ten landed the Ursa as discreetly as she could, a few kilometres out from the Kraz estate. Thankfully it didn’t seem the New Republic had any insight on where they were going, only where they had been. But there was no guessing how long that would last.

Mando was in the hold, already securing his blaster into his belt. She recognized a couple other models and … something that didn’t look like a blaster at all. Before she could get a longer look his cloak fell over it.

“Kraz’s estate only has minimum security in place. Security cameras, only two from the back, no motion sensors,” she said, opening up the weapons compartment.

“How do you know all this?” Mando asked, entering her field of view. She looked up from where she was sheathing throwing knives. She shrugged at him.

“You hunt people, I hunt information. It’s my business to know my way around prominent figure’s properties.” Reaching up, Ten finally grabbed her blaster from the top shelf it sat on. She knew she could very likely do this without it, but it would probably appease Mando.

“If he is working with the Empire, he may have increased his security since your latest information,” he noted. She nodded as she hung her own cloak around her shoulders.

“At least then it would make for a challenge,” she said, nodding her head towards the door.

They closed the distance from the Ursa on foot so as not to be seen by anyone on the grounds. The tree cover was just enough to hide it from view overhead. Mando seemed to want to take the walk in their usual state of silence, and Ten didn’t complain.

As they walked, Ten admired the foliage that seemed to grow at mostly knee height on this planet. It bloomed undisturbed in the gaps left by the trees, enjoying the unrestricted sunlight. The rays seemed to bounce off the petals which appeared in every colour.

It made her think of Yaim. The trees there had been much denser, and wider. But the air seemed to vibrate in the same way, the wind so delicate Ten could almost close her eyes and imagine it was tender fingers on her cheek.

She reached out, as she would always do when she was a girl, and felt that unwavering presence, its weight bearing down on her bones and her soul alike. But … less heavy than usual, which surprised her.

Finally, they reached the wall which indicated the edge of the property, It wasn’t high, maybe four or five metres by Ten’s estimation. The surface was uneven, and she grabbed a hold of the texture, testing it.

“This should work. If we can scale to the—” She was cut off by a sharp whizzing noise beside her. As she examined the grappling hook connected to his vambrace, she was absolutely sure he was smirking beneath the helmet. “Or we could do it that way.”

He extended his other arm to her. Stepping as close as she could, she wrapped an arm tightly around his shoulders. The arm he had held out to her now circled her waist, pulling her even closer. She could feel every curve and edge of his armour through her clothes. His helmet turned towards her.

“Hold on tight,” was all he said, and then they were rapidly ascending up, up, past the rough stones in the wall, until Mando swung them onto the top, which was thankfully flat. “You can let go now.”

“Right,” she breathed. Shaking her head, she turned towards the building now filling their view. As she’d planned, the route to the wall had taken them close to the back corner of the property. If her information was current, Kraz only had cameras facing his back and front entrances. “You’ve got a scope on that pulse rifle, right? Can you see the cameras on the back wall?”

Swinging the rifle around to rest on his shoulder, he wordlessly aimed at the building. Ten studied his stance from the corner of her eye. His feet were heavy, planted shoulder width apart. He didn’t sway as the wind picked up, a solid beskar statue in the foreign landscape.

Suddenly he fired once, then twice. Ten flinched at the unexpected noise. Finally, he spoke. “The cameras are taken care of.”

“A little warning next time?” Before he could respond, she flung herself from the wall. She braced herself on her hands as she landed, Mando dropping beside her a moment later. She held up a hand.

After a few beats of silence, she nodded at him. “Seems like they haven’t upgraded security after all,” she noted, moving towards the back entrance. As they got closer, she saw that the cameras were indeed demolished by the shots.

“Don’t suppose you know the interior blueprints as well?” Mando asked at her left shoulder.

“No,” she shook her head. “Those are usually harder to get a hold of. But I have been hired by many men like Kraz. They like to keep their personal offices in the back of buildings, it makes them feel safer for some reason. See that window?”

She gestured directly above them, where the largest window on the back facade sat. It was also the only window inset with what appeared to be rare minerals.

“I agree,” Mando said before she could finish. “That’s a good place to start. After you.”

Ten examined the back entrance, gliding her hand along the smooth edges of the metal. The locking mechanism blinked orange gently, and she recognized an optical scanner. But beneath that … a keyboard override, hidden under an unlocked panel. Perfect.

Taking one of her daggers from her belt, she was able to tear off the cover of the keypad box with her hands. Ten held the dagger up. It was one of her favourites. The handle was nondescript, simple, fitted perfectly to her grip. Its blade was stronger than any other she owned, and she strongly suspected it had been mixed with beskar, though she couldn’t be sure. Maybe she would ask the Mandalorian.

She pried under the edge of the keypad, battling metal on metal, leveraging with all her strength. Finally, as she expected, her metal won, and the bottom edge of the keypad popped off with a satisfying crack. She cut every wire she found lying underneath, one by one until—

The door slid open with a whirr as the orange light went dark.

“Would’ve been faster to shoot it open,” said Mando.

“And set off every alarm they have in this place.” She strode past him into the building. The cement walls echoed her footsteps, but there was no other sound bouncing off them. The overhead lights flickered slowly.

The hallway branched into a T shortly ahead of them, and her and Mando took to a side of the wall. Nodding, they inched over the corner, blasters drawn. Ten found a long corridor on her side, ending in a window. There were no doors. She spoke first, in a low tone.

“All clear here.”

“Here too.”

Relaxing marginally, she turned. The other direction appeared much the same, with another doorless hallway. Ten shrugged.

“Your choice is as good as mine.”

Mando wordlessly started down the hall to the right. She followed, pulling her hood over her head as she did. She ran her hand lightly along the wall. It was cold to the touch. She tightened her grip on her blaster.

A stairway emerged at the end of the hallway, and they followed silently. The next level was similar to the first, though featured more hallways going deeper into the building and an occasional linen draped on the wall. Finally, they came to a wide door, inlaid with the same mineral as the exterior window.

It was empty inside. A large wooden desk occupied much of the room, facing towards the ornate window. The sunlight streamed in freely, casting multicoloured shapes over the room. It reflected off Mando’s beskar as he approached the computer terminal on the desk.

“The communications log should give us enough information on whether he’s working with the Empire.” He called up a projected screen, gloved fingers running over the controls. “Should be … here. Most people don’t even restrict access. We can download it to look at on the ship.”

Ten nodded. She moved towards the window. Closer to it, she could see the small bubbles enclosed in the inlays. It felt rough. She wasn’t sure why she was so drawn to touch today, but it felt as if a live wire had been inserted beneath her skin, the smallest of currents lighting her nerves.

“Done,” came Mando’s modulated tone, pulling her attention. “We should go—”

Before he could finish, the latch clicked in the door. They both watched, unable to do anything, as the handle turned and the door opened fully.

A human man stood there, looking down at his holopad at first. Mando raised his blaster slowly. By the time the man looked up, it was directly in front of his face, and his eyes widened as he took the two of them in.

“W-who the hell are you?” he asked shakily. “You shouldn’t be in here, I …”

“We’re going to walk out of here,” Mando said calmly. “There’s no reason to panic. You’re going to stay in this office for five minutes, and then go about your day. Got it?”

The man’s eyes darted rapidly back and forth between them. Ten tried to soften her eyes, to urge him to listen. She wasn’t sure it worked.

Faster than either of them could react, he screamed out, tripping backwards over himself out of the office. Mando fired down into his leg and he collapsed, screaming more, but it was too late, the damage had been done.

As they sprinted out and away from the office, Ten could already hear the sound of boots echoing off the walls. They’d almost reached the stairs when a group of armed security burst out of a hallway in front of them. It was six on two and damn if Ten didn’t like those odds.

Blaster fire broke out almost immediately. Just as quickly, Ten lost track of Mando in the shuffle, but it didn’t matter.

She shot at the two men in front of her, electing for quantity over quality in her aim. She managed to hit one somewhere in the torso and he crumpled to the ground. After a number of other shots she hit the next man in the shoulder, which worked to her advantage. He dropped his blaster with a shout, but stayed on his feet.

Ten pulled two of the small knives from her belt. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she aimed before whipping it forehead. It spun in the air before hitting its mark, buried inside the man’s neck. He sputtered as he fell to his knees, then onto his face.

Spinning around, she saw Mando taking down a fifth officer behind her, two others already on the ground. She counted quickly.

“Where’s the sixth one?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Mando grunted, dropping the officer to the ground. He raced toward the stairs and she followed.

It appeared they were mostly in the clear, the branch off to the door just ahead of them. Ten led ahead, turning the corner first.

She was met with a blaster pressed to her forehead. It was the sixth officer, her hands shaking as she pressed the barrel harder into the skin.

Ten couldn’t even consciously control her response. It didn’t matter that Mando stood just behind her.

Her hand reached up in front of her, gripping seemingly around nothing, pushing forward. She pulled on the invisible field which was always with her, calling on it. Slowly the barrel of the blaster moved away and so too did the officer, beginning to cough and sputter as her windpipe closed. Ten panted, squeezing tighter and higher, and now the officer was a good three metres in front of her, feet lifting off the ground, eyes rolling into her head. With a grunt, she quickly jerked her arm to the side, sending the officer flying into the wall. The crumpled figure on the ground didn’t move.

“You just …” came Mando’s voice behind her. She turned to look back at him. “You’re a Jedi.”

“We don’t have time for this but let’s get one thing straight. I am not a Jedi.”

[kylorengarbagedump]

Little Bird: Chapter 19

Read on AO3. Part 18 here. Part 20 here.

Summary: You get to find out what's going to happen to you post-escape attempt--or, whatever Ren wants to happen.

Words: 2400

Warnings: Handmaid AU

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Hi! I decided to give everyone break and just... write plot, for once. What the fuck is plot? God.

Really really appreciating everyone's comments. I loved writing soft Ren. Hope to do it some more? Right? Yes? ;D

Thank you so so much to everyone. I love y'all. See you shortly! <3

“It’s morning.”

Kylo Ren’s voice trickled like a creek through the hazy meadow of your mind. You had been divorced from rest for so many hours that you were certain you’d begun hallucinating, phasing through dreams and reality like osmosis. The dark sheets underneath you were a black ocean, Ren’s chest at your back a mountain made of heat and stone. And you--you were a bird, floating on thermals of terror, too afraid to flap your wings, lest you birth a tornado, but even more afraid to rest, to languish to death in exhaustion.

“You need to walk.” 

His voice again, guiding you back to reality. He eased you forward, uncurling his legs from around you, the reassuring strength of his body leaving you exposed. Your head hurt less, but the lack of sleep still had you a little dizzy. What if you still couldn’t walk? Perhaps you’d be forced to the doctor, where’d you’d be asked twenty dozen questions, maybe determined deficient. Maybe this entire episode had been for naught, maybe you’d be shipped off to the Colonies for your disobedience, maybe--

“Up,” he said. “Show me if you can walk.”

You shook your head, brain wobbling like congealed fat in your skull. Ren stood at the side of the bed; you soaked him in, from the dark waves of hair skating above his wide, powerful shoulders, his broad chest rising with quiet breath, down to his abdomen, wrapped tight with muscle, and the trail of hair that led below his pants. God, he was gorgeous--it was almost ethereal. It sent a distant tremble to your toes, agitating the chilled pond of desire in your belly.  

The tenderness you’d felt from him had evaporated, now--he observed you with cold, expectant eyes. Jaw stiff, you eased yourself onto the ground, surprised when your feet connected with the floor and steadied you. One step, and then another, no teeters to be found. 

He shifted back, a silent request for a continued demonstration. Shrugging, you stepped again, again. The world had stopped spinning. Finally.

“Get to your room. The Marthas will provide you with another dress.” He scanned you, memorizing something. “You should sleep.”

You nodded, folding your arms over your chest, feeling more naked in your civilian clothes now than you’d felt the night prior when you were actually naked in the backseat of his car.  “What’s… going to happen to me?”

He raised a brow. “You will remain as my Handmaid and serve this home.”

“You know that for a fact?”

“Yes.”

You wanted that to be true for more than one reason--the first would be to give the Resistance what they needed, to ensure Poe’s death hadn’t been in vain. The second was more nebulous and shameful, woven into the fabric of your ache, your longing to know him. If only you could set that fabric on fire and bury the ashes--after all, you were a spy, now. He deserved retribution. No matter how sweetly he stroked your hair.

“Okay… it’s just, Johana had mentioned something about re-education--”

“I meet with the Council today,” he said. “I’ll inform them that re-education won’t be necessary.” A dark flame flashed across his irises. “Unless you believe it is.”

You ignored the shiver at the base of your spine. “No, sir.” 

Ren’s eye twitched. “We’re alone. You...” Then, his expression hardened, and before you could respond: “Go.”

You nodded, peeling away and shuffling into the corridor.

It was strange to creep through the halls of his home without the swish of skirts at your ankles--a shame you’d have to give this outfit up. It wasn’t something you would’ve worn prior to the rise of Gilead, but in this world, it made you feel as if you’d strapped on Doc Martens and a trenchcoat. 

The size of your room was about how you had remembered--if not a little smaller. The brief lapse of monotony had already done so much to shatter your familiarity with those four walls--perhaps freedom had the power to vaporize any association with bondage you’d had. The idea of living a life without a single recollection of this home flipped your stomach with excitement. A tiny, near silent tingle of hesitation--even Kylo Ren?

Yes, you told yourself. Even him. 

Sighing, you crawled into bed, sinking like a brick into the mattress. If Ren had the power to keep you safe, you wanted to trust him--your future was dependent on his attachment to you. The level of that attachment was difficult to discern, but you knew that you wanted to encourage it. It would make gathering whatever information the Resistance wanted much easier. That tingle again--it’s something you want, too.

You groaned, shoving a pillow over your head, hoping to shut out your own annoying brain. Your feelings about Kylo Ren were irrelevant and pointless. He was your Commander, you were his Handmaid--the chains of society had bound you for too long already. Perhaps you could have known him in another life, another landscape, another time where to be with him wouldn’t mean the complete resignation of your own humanity, where your relationship hadn’t been forged in a firepit of his superiority. But there could never be a context where your history--already too long--could be erased. The thought was sobering. Freeing. Devastating.

The chatter in your mind slowed as you sucked in a breath. The long-avoided necessity of sleep slammed into you, shutting your eyes and taking you into a dreamless void. 

A rap on your door, and you shot up from bed, heart ricocheting into your throat. The sun was setting. You had no idea how long it had been since you’d fallen asleep. 

“One moment.” It was good you’d woken up--no coma. But your head still pounded with the reminder of your accident. You passed a few fingers over the tender knot at your hairline, checking its size before standing. “Coming.”

You opened your door to reveal Emma, a full Handmaid uniform folded in her arms. She gawked, staring at you before clearing her throat. You couldn’t blame her--it was the same reaction you’d had when you’d seen Rey. 

“I was asked to, um, inform you that you should bathe before you put this on.” She shoved it into your arms, averting your gaze. Her cheeks were pink. “How does it feel?” Her voice was gossamer in air. 

“It feels… good,” you replied. “Or, it felt good. I know I’ll have to give these up.”

She nodded. “Yes, actually, I was told you should leave them in the washroom when you’re finished so I can collect them for Ms. Johana.”

“Johana?” you asked. “What does she want with them?”

“I… don’t know,” she replied. “I was just told to bring them to her.”

You shrugged. “Okay. Um. Thank you, Emma.”

Offering you a tight smile, she turned and left. You held your uniform in your arms, gazing down at the crisp red folds of the dress and cloak, the snowy bonnet plopped on top, the red-brown boots encircled by the large, white wings. A sigh left you. At least you wouldn’t have to wear the wings until tomorrow. You hoped.

Your bath came and went with little interruption. If Ren had come home at any time during your sleep or your wash, you hadn’t heard it. In fact, the house had been silent, as if you were living inside of an illusion, where wood didn’t creak, where footsteps didn’t echo. Even beyond the windows had seemed quiet, like every creature with remaining dignity had eloped the moment you’d awakened in an endeavor to distance themselves from whatever had infected you. You imagined explaining to them you were undercover for the Resistance--of course none of it meant anything to you. But, in your own daydream you were met with dismissal, as if your subconscious couldn’t even let non-sentient animals buy into your delusion.

Frustration crackled as you shoved yourself into your uniform, contemplating in disbelief the curtain of red fabric that had replaced your body. You could’ve been free, could’ve been planning your future, could’ve been doing anything but standing in a fucking washroom draped in the signifier of your inhumanity. Instead, you were about to head downstairs, eat whatever Johana had decided you were worthy of eating, and await news of your fate. The fact that Ren still hadn’t returned wasn’t encouraging.

You made your way downstairs, leaving your Resistance outfit folded in the hamper. Perhaps Johana wanted to dust it for prints, perform a luminol test on it in hopes it would light up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. But she’d be out of luck, there--you’d been naked when Ren had fucked you. You shuddered at the memory. 

It was still bizarre. His tears, his pain, his rage, just barely leashed. You couldn’t figure out how to process it. How could you leave me--these weren’t the words of a Commander, chastising his Handmaid for abandoning her duty. They were the words of a heartbroken, empty man, ripped from his refuge. But that couldn’t be right. 

I want you here. Not one like you. You haunt me. How could you leave me. Use my name.  

You are me.

Could it?

You awoke from your musings seated in front of some sort of soup--this week’s leftovers stirred in vegetable stock. Sighing, you moved to take a bite when, around the corner and down the hall, you heard the front door open.

“And it’s temporary?” It was Johana.

“Yes.” That voice was Ren’s. You straightened. “That was part of the compromise.”

“All right.” A shuffle--they’d both stopped. Johana’s voice dropped to a murmur. “I’m already having her clothes destroyed. They won’t know she ever met with the Resistance.”

“Mm. Industrious of you.”

“I don’t want anything interfering with my chances of getting a child.” She paused. “Including you.”

“Careful, Johana.” 

“No. You be careful, Commander. Your behavior is out of control. You’ll get us both killed.”

The scrape of his shoes on the hardwood. “I am not Canady, Johana. You’d do well to remember that.”

“No,” she said. “You’re not. He’s dead.” Quick, angry footsteps--Ren followed. “If you were, maybe I wouldn’t have to beg my own husband to show the barest consideration toward me--”

Johana marched past the dining area and stopped, face sharpening. The degree of hatred boiling inside of her scalded you, singed your skin, bid blood to your cheeks in both guilt and fear. She glared at you like a mirror that reflected her shortcomings in silvershine clarity, her face trembling with rage. With pain. 

Ren arrived behind her, meeting your eyes--the weight of their gazes combined made you want to empty yourself into a sink and disappear down the drain. 

“Um. Hello,” you said lamely, as if you weren’t a slave in their home and they weren’t both looking at you for answers.  

“You’re awake,” said Ren. “Finish your meal and meet in my den. We begin your re-education tonight.”

“What?” This time, it was both you and Johana who’d spoken. She continued, “What do you mean, re-education?”

He turned to his Wife. “I argued to the Council it wasn’t necessary at all. They disagreed. Our compromise is that I complete her re-education, instead.” Now his stare rested on you. “Once we complete what they’ve asked, they’ll assess her. If they’re satisfied, my position is reinstated.”

She balked, glancing between you and him. “Well,” she said, folding her arms, “I want to be present.”

“That’s nice.” He refused to take his fucking eyes off of you. “Unfortunately, what you want doesn’t currently serve the interests of Gilead.”

“Interests of Gilead?” Johana charged into his line of sight, breaking his leer. “Don’t stand there and act like everything you’ve done since she arrived has been for Gilead--”

Ren’s jaw tensed. “Johana.”

She stiffened. “Fine.” Spinning on you, she hissed, “Once we learn you’re not pregnant, I don’t care where you go. But I’ll make sure you won’t stay here.” She looked to Ren and bowed her head in what almost seemed mock deference, at this point. “Commander.” With that, she was gone, her feet carrying her up the steps to their bedroom.

In her absence, your soup seemed to cool. A bead of sweat slipped down the back of your neck. Ren looked at you again, and his stare locked into yours such with intensity that your vision tunnelled, shrinking blacker, smaller, a crater with no light or air or escape--except through him.

“I’ll see you shortly, little bird.” 

He kept your gaze until he disappeared beyond the walls, heading toward the den.

[immabethehero]

Chase and the Treasure Hunt

Part one of my new multi-chapter!!!

For Chase’s birthday, the egos decide to go extravagant. What adventures await them as they sail through the beautiful ocean on a magnificent pirate ship?

🏴‍☠️⚔️⚓🏴‍☠️⚔️⚓🏴‍☠️⚔️⚓

“Alright kids, you all knew this day would come.” A single lamplight turns on. Sabrina and Noah squint against the harsh light. Chloe pays no attention to the four men staring her and her siblings down and simply plays with her doll.

“Uh… Guys? Is this… necessary?” Noah asks.

“Absolutely. Your father’s birthday is one week from now and we still don’t know what to get him!” Jackie exclaims.

“You could just get him another book,” Sabrina suggests.

“He still hasn’t read the books we got him LAST year,” Henrik grumbles. “We’re not getting him any new ones until he’s read the others!”

“A new hat?” Noah recommends.

“And add another ugly snapback to his collection? Gross!” Marvin interjects.

“A trip to Disney World?” Chloe asks.

“We went last year! We’re not blowing our budget again,” Jameson says. “Nice try, Chloe.”

“That’s all we got!” Sabrina says.

The Septics groan and grumble. Marvin turns the lights back on. Jackie flops onto the couch. Jameson gets up and begins perusing through his library.

Sunlight shimmers through the curtains of the Septics’ Library. Bookshelves line up against the walls, holding books organized by genres, or rather, the Septics’ favourite genre. The bay window has cushioned seating to sit on, so one could read then look wistfully out the window. Chase came up with the idea.

There are two low coffee tables in the middle. Noah gets up and looks outside. “Hey, it’s stopped raining!”

“Wait for it to dry up a bit, and then you can go outside,” Henrik says. “In the meantime, help us find more gift ideas!”

“You are surrounded by books, why don’t you go through them?” Sabrina asks. “Maybe you’ll find ideas inside.”

“That’s a great idea!” Marvin pulls a book off the shelf and thumbs through the pages, before putting it back. “Nothing in there.” He shoves the book back and takes out the next one, thumbing through it. “Nope.”  He continues on to the next book.

Chloe looks outside. Both the grass and the pavement hold large puddles that look like lakes. Her eyes light up.

“What if we took Daddy on a cruise?” she asks.

“Isn’t that a bit expensive?” Henrik asks.

“We’ll make our own ship! Uncle Marvin has real magic, so you can make a ship!” Chloe says.

Marvin pales a little. “Uh… kid? I appreciate the enthusiasm but…”

“Seriously? This could be the least expensive gift for his birthday and you’re rejecting it?” Sabrina says.

“It could be fun!” Noah agrees. “Us, Dad, and you guys all going for a sail in our very own ship that you don’t have to pay for!”

The Septics exchange glances. Henrik motions for a group huddle. After a minute of loud whispering, the egos turn around. Jackie clears his throat and says. “OK! Let’s do it!”

🏴‍☠️⚔️⚓🏴‍☠️⚔️⚓🏴‍☠️⚔️⚓

Not even an hour later after the kids left does another fight break out. This time over what kind of ship to make. Jackie has presented a video of an excavator on a barge, using the giant shovel as a paddle, and suggested they create a ship from that. Henrik retorted that it wasn’t safe, and that Jackie’s presents never met safety regulations, which made the hero explode in a fit of rage.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY ‘SAFETY REGULATIONS?’” Jackie yells” “I’M A FREAKING SUPERHERO. MY JOB IS TO KEEP PEOPLE SAFE-”

“THEN EXPLAIN THE LAST FEW GIFTS YOU’VE GIVEN THE BRODY FAMILY!” yells Henrik. “YOU GAVE SABRINA AND NOAH FLYING TOBOGGANS LAST CHRISTMAS!”

“So they could get a sense of what it was like to fly like me!!! And those toboggans came with seatbelts and helmets and padding! It’s not my fault Chase decided to do a barrel roll and ended up in the hospital with a concussion!”

“At Chloe’s 3rd birthday party, you gave her a taser and put bottles of pepper spray in the guests’ party bags!”

“We are living in a society where females face attacks from horrible misogyny everyday! I was simply preparing them for how to respond in an attack!”

“You gave Stacy and Delilah machetes for their 3rd anniversary!”

“Girls like swords!” 

“My point stands!”

Marvin flies past the kitchen, wearing a pretty maroon coat. “I’m heading to the store, let me know if you need anything!”

“I’m coming with you!” Jameson yells, jumping out his seat. He quickly shoves on his own coat and follows Marvin outside.

“Not enjoying the match?” Marvin asks.

“They’re so loud when they argue,” Jameson complains.

“They’re Septic Egos through and through, it’s in their blood,” Marvin explains.

Jameson laughs. “Where are we heading? I don’t believe they sell boat parts at the grocery store.”

“We’re not going there, Jameson,” Marvin says. “We’re going to the one place where we might find a working ship.”

🏴‍☠️⚔️⚓🏴‍☠️⚔️⚓🏴‍☠️⚔️⚓

In the calmer parts of the town, nestled on the edge lies the Survival Kit, a store with fascinating trinkets and other things needed for emergencies and of course, survival. For Marvin, it’s where he can grab whatever items he needs for a spell or a potion and not be questioned by his strange purchases.

The store itself looks like a normal store, with a gable roof and stone bricks, but when one walks inside does the magic begin. Fishing rods, boats in bottles, bikes, even ice skates are lined up on shelves and walls, ready for use. Among the useful outdoor items and the emergency supplies are cool little trinkets from different parts of the world.

Jameson marvels at the gramophones, each decorated to represent different genres of music. Jameson finds one such gramophone whose records only play symphonies. When he plays the test recording, his heart soars along with the music. He sways side to side, basking in the beautiful noise.

Marvin peruses the shelves of nautical items, looking for the perfect Boat in a Bottle. He can simply resize it into a real-life ship and transfigure it to make it sail. He’s done resizing and transfiguration before, this won’t be any different!

“Need help finding what you’re looking for?” a voice with a strong Australian accent asks. Marvin jumps and turns around.

Angus McLoughlin, self-proclaimed “Survival Hunter'' and owner of the store, stands beside Marvin. Like the other egos, Angus has Jack’s brown hair and blue eyes, though his hair is often hidden underneath a dark green crocodile dundee hat. His left eye is somewhat glassy, and two long scars run down it. For a little while, the egos were fairly certain that Angus was connected to Jack somehow. When Marvin asked, Angus said that while he did share a last name with Jack, neither were related in any way and Angus didn’t really know the Youtuber that well. It was simply a coincidence.

“I’m looking for a boat in a bottle…” Marvin says, turning back to the shelves. “It’s for a friend’s birthday…”

“Fascinating!” Angus surveys his shelves. “Well, what kind of boats does he like?”

Marvin shrugs. “I don’t know. Something cool, I guess. Nothing too boring. Perhaps a pirate ship, I remember Chase saying he loved the Pirates of the Carribean series.. Or was it Treasure Island… wait… was it that stop-motion animation pirate movie-”

“Might I interest you in this?” Angus holds up a bottle with a little model brigantine ship inside. The wood was a beautiful mahogany and shimmered in whatever light the bottle caught. The flag colours consisted of blue and red. A tiny mermaid was carved into the bow of the ship.

Marvin slams a twenty euro poun noted into Angus’ hand, grinning like a maniac. “It’s perfect.”

“I’m assuming you’re also paying for the gramaphone?” Angus asks with a laugh. Marvin turns to see Jameson holding up the symphony-themed gramophone, eyes pleading.

Marvin chuckles. “Yes.”

🏴‍☠️⚔️⚓🏴‍☠️⚔️⚓🏴‍☠️⚔️⚓

The egos, minus one rad dad, gather around the little ship.

“What are we going to do with it?” Henrik asks.

“First: we need to take it apart and rebuild it. Jackie, you’re in charge of remodelling the ship,” Marvin orders. Jackie nods.

“Then we need to repaint it so it will fit Chase better. I want to use sails that go with our theme. Maybe Septic Sam wearing pirate hats and holding little swords. Jameson, you’re decorating.” Jameson whistles.

“Henrik, I need you to work on some clothes for the big day. We can’t go in our usual get-up! I’ll give you the designs to work with!” Marvin shoves a stack of papers at Henrik, then runs out the door. “I have more work to do! See you guys soon!”

The egos stare suspiciously at their retreating friend.

“What’s Marvin hiding from us? What is he doing?” Henrik asks.

“Probably just some more ideas for Chase’s birthday,” Jackie says, scribbling away on blueprints.

“It’s not like him to hide plans like that,” Jameson notes.

Henrik skims through the designs. “Are we… going on a pirate adventure?”

Jackie and Jameson stare at the blueprints.

Jameson grins. “Looks like it. Could be fun!”

“Why would we do that?”

“Because it’s fun! Chase would love to have a little fun and adventure for his birthday!” Jackie exclaims. “Besides, it’ll give Stacy and Delilah enough time to set up the house for the party after!”

“I wonder if there’ll be treasure!” Jameson muses.

“It better be worth all this trouble. It’ll take all night for me to make these costumes!” Henrik groans. “Jameson, could you help me?” JJ nods.

One of Jameson’s time manipulation tricks is the ability to speed up tasks, so that a task that could take an hour would only take seconds. Chase’s children used to bribe him with treats so he would use this gift and speed up their homework time, which worked until Chase found out and banned Jameson from homework help.

While Henrik and JJ work on costumes and sails, Jackie tinkers away at the ship, remodelling it to be more modern and fit for the six egos and the kids. j is out all night, but returns in time to paint the ship and transfigure it.

When the ship is done, the egos head to the docks. Marvin performs a spell, and soon, a large ship floats on the water, ready for use.

The egos take the ship out for a test run, Marvin pinpointing each place they need to take Chase too.

Back at home, Chase Brody doodles in his journal, humming softly. Nothing, not even a cryptic hint from Jack, can prepare him for tomorrow.

🏴‍☠️⚔️⚓🏴‍☠️⚔️⚓🏴‍☠️⚔️⚓

@graysun, @florenceisfalling, @miishae​​, @lonelyseiren, @goldenoceanaart, @egopocalypse, @oasisofgalaxies, @fleecal, @kofi-king, @myspatialspace, @jo-ann-ahh-2, @writerwithdepression, @huffletrax, @gemstone6, @dumbasticart, @lunaarmada, @deadlydevine, @meteorshowersfillthesky, @bupine, @the-yandere-kitsune, @climbing-starrs, @the-spawn-of-loki, @jadehowlettthewolf, @obsidiancreates, @rammypaige, @hollenka99, @cest-mellow, @randowaffle, @green-protects, @dezi-popp, @badlypostedeverything

[mymelodyheart]

Highland Destiny Chapter 15 ~The Road Trip~

Jamie was surprised to discover that Claire was a light traveller. She produced a duffel bag, a laptop case and her everyday tote bag, even though he had told her they would be travelling in a campervan, the distillery's promotional tour carrier. He thought his choice of transport was a perfect way for Claire to see the Highland's countryside and to allow her to rest when the necessity arises, albeit the distance from Inverness to the Isle of Skye was more or less two and a half hours drive.

After Claire's admission to her feelings, there was a notable air of constraint and shyness on her part, and Jamie attempted to ease the awkwardness by giving her a quick tour inside the Frisealach distillery before retrieving the campervan from the compound. So he was moved to see her eyes lit up when she stepped inside the vehicle, her earlier discomfiture forgotten.

Standing close by, he heard her gasped as she took in the interior open-mouthed. Inside was a fully equipped kitchen with hidden nooks and cabinets for storage, a comfortable upholstered living space, a TV area, a mini wardrobe and shower compartment.

"Oh my word, Jamie!" she gushed, looking at him wide-eyed, before proceeding to open cupboards for brief inspections and touch the smooth surfaces of the kitchenette. "This is so luxurious...it's like a proper house. Goodness, I can live here...it has everything."

Coming from behind, he wrapped his arms around her, loving the feel of her warmth. "Ye like it, Sassenach?" he whispered, burying his face into her freshly washed hair.

"Like it? Are you serious? I love it! I have been on the road so many times with uncle Lamb...but this," she whistled under her breath, throwing her hands in the air at awe. "...this is something else. Good Lord, back then we slept under the stars or in a tent and travelled in jeeps or four-wheel drives when work took uncle Lamb to North Africa. The nearest thing to luxury we had was spoon and fork." she recounted chuckling, clasping the arms around her.

Without letting go, Jaime gently guided Claire to the back, reaching out to slide the trifold door in front of her, unveiling the sleeping quarters. "Ye can sleep here Sassenach if the journey gets too much for ye. I read somewhere that pregnant women need plenty of sleep," he explained matter-of-factly.

Claire blinked and let out an "Oooh" at the sight of the king-size berth, one hand flying to her mouth, as her face turned crimson. "Oh, my God! This bed is massive...you will be able to actually fit in it without your feet hanging at the edge."

He laughed. "We can both fit in it...want to try?" It fascinated him that Claire could still blush at a sight of a bed despite the fact she was pregnant with their baby.

Detaching herself from Jamie, Claire quickly scrambled onto the mattress, loving the feel and smell of the clean, crisp bed linen underneath. "Definitely huge enough!" she confirmed giggling as she rolled from one end of the bed to the other, delighted, like a child in a candy store.

Jamie followed suit and laid on his back, turning his head to face her. "Och aye...it's definitely big enough! Actually, I've never slept in here before...we've only used the campervan when we're doing tours across the country...ye ken...promotional kinds of stuff." He bounced his weight lightly, testing the spring beneath him. "It's actually kinda comfy."

Claire rolled onto her tummy and edged closer to Jaime. Beaming with joy, she leaned forward to give him a quick peck on the lips. "Love it!" she said, smiling.

Before Jamie can put his arms around her, she was already up on her feet, hands reaching out to pull him up. "C'mon soldier, show me the Highlands."

..........

It was late afternoon by the time Jamie and Claire hit the road, but there was still plenty of daylight left to enjoy the scenery. Although partly cloudy, the Spring weather held up despite the forecast of light rain, which was unusual for that time of year in the northern part of Scotland. They had made a pit stop earlier to buy snacks and drinks to fill the mini-fridge for their journey at a village supermarket, and Jamie was amused when Claire grabbed a box of frozen ice cream cones.

"Don't ye think it's still too cold for ice cream, Sassenach?" he had asked playfully as they were checking out at the til.

"Definitely not!" she clucked, nodding in approval of her edible acquisition. "Everyone knows that ice cream is worth the trouble of being cold. Like all things virtuous, you have to suffer to gain the reward."

He laughed, retracting on his earlier statement. "Och, ye dinna need to worry about the cold. I promise ye, it will be nice and warm in the camper."

Jamie noticed the change in Claire's food choices. Usually, an advocate for healthy eating, opting for loads of greens and fruits, he noted her preference of late was more of a sweet fare. There was too a certain glow about her since leaving the hospital earlier, her recent ordeal blotted out of mind, or so it seemed. The pallor on her cheeks from the day before was replaced with a healthy flush, making her recovery quite a remarkable turnaround. Joe had warned him that there could be a delayed reaction to her trauma, but so far so good, Claire seemed fully recuperated.

The weeks that had followed after the charity ball had been like hell for Jamie and ever since Claire was back, he had been trying his utmost best to slow it down for her sake, until that minor hiccup with the engagement ring. He realised it was proving to be a difficult commitment as his senses were permeated by everything that was Claire, being very close together on this trip, and his hands having a mind of their own, tend to reach out and touch her whenever she was near. He wanted her so badly but was afraid he could jeopardise her recovery.  Damn Christie!  Instead, he focused on pointing out the sceneries and landscapes they passed on the road, telling her stories of Scotland's past and the battle of Culloden hoping that would be enough to quelch his mounting yearning.

..........

True to his words, the inside of the camper van was very warm once they were on the road, and Claire and Jamie had quickly changed into something more comfortable before setting off. Claire for once wished she had something more alluring to wear, instead of her well worn and shabby jean shorts and an over-sized red-black flannel shirt. Growing up, Claire rarely shopped for clothes, and when the opportunity did arise, her choice was always practical and comfortable. For some reason, it did cross her mind that Jamie must think she was scruffy and dowdy. Although still attentive and caring, Claire couldn't help but noticed Jamie's demonstrativeness was more subdued than usual.  Maybe he's disgusted with all the sugary junk food I'm eating!  Suddenly feeling annoyed with herself, she tried to dismiss her thoughts as a silly rumination of a hormonal pregnant woman, and instead, she directed her attention on the trip.

The camper was already moving when she finally took her seat next to Jamie. As she sat down, Jamie gave her a glance over, his eyes lingering on her bare legs. Noticing his gaze, she felt conscious of her clothes. "It's uncle Lamb's shirt, and it's comfortable," she explained defensively, as she looked down her front, unwittingly fidgeting and tugging at the hem of her top.

Smiling, he reached out and squeezed her thigh. "Sassenach, you look beautiful more than ever," he said softly and sincerely.

Lightening up, she smiled back at him and settled to enjoy the countryside views. 

She loved listening to Jamie talked so passionately about Scotland as he pointed at glens and mountains he had trekked and told her stories and myths of standings stones and cairns. He was at his most element whenever he spoke of his country's history and culture, his sky blue eyes lighting up when he answered her curiosities. Claire had always loved travelling, and being on the road with Jamie had brought back memories of her childhood adventures with uncle Lamb.

"I'm really looking forward to seeing Skye, especially now that you've told me all these wonderful stories," she mused, feeling grateful for the trip.

"Weel, I was thinking, since ye've had a long day, we should stop for the night near Eilean Donan Castle. I know we're not too far from Skye, but there's this place I'd like ye to see. I ken ye will love it Sassenach," he suggested with his comical wink, making her laugh.

"I'm quite sure I will," she agreed, smiling. All of a sudden, craving for something sugary, she offered, "Want some icecream? I know it's dinner time soon, but I really fancy something sweet."

Jamie grinned. "No, ye go ahead Sassenach. I can't be eating and driving at the same time. I'll do."

Claire quickly got up from her seat to get the frozen coned ice cream from the fridge. She had been hankering for some sweet treat ever since they set off and had tried to suppress it, having had her few shares of puddings in the last 24 hours. The craving had won, and she didn't care anymore.

Settling back, she peeled off the wrapping from her treat and bit a big chunk from the top, her eyes closing as the sweetness filled her mouth. It was vanilla ice cream with chocolate covering on the top. Sensing Jamie's eyes on her, she blushed. "Want some? It's delicious!" she offered, extending her arm to let him have a taste.

Jamie just shook his head and stared for a long time.

"Jamie watch the road!" she cautioned. "What's with you?" Her hands went to her mouth, thinking she was covered with ice cream.

He blinked and turned his focus on the road again. "Och, sorry, Sassenach..."

Thinking Jamie's scrutiny had something to do with her mouth being smothered in a sticky mess, she got up to get some wet wipes.  Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, I must look like a hodgepodge of grubbiness!  As she was about to return to her seat, she was surprised the camper van had halted, and the ignition turned off.

"Jamie, is everything alright? Why are we stopping?" she asked as she looked out the window. She noticed they were parked at the lay-by.

She glanced up as she saw Jamie leave the driver seat. "Jamie is something the matter?" she asked, concerned, noticing a funny look on his face.

He walked over, his eyes dark as the ocean blue. "No, Sassenach, I'm not alright," he replied hoarsely, openly appraising the sight of her like she was some forbidden fruit, the movement of his Adam's Apple visible. "I ken ye want to take things slow, but I'm dying inside from wanting ye. If I don't have ye now, I'm going to implode."

"W-Wot?" She stared at him, shocked.

He continued to stare at her, his eyes penetrating and his face a picture of yearning. "I want ye, Claire. Will ye have me...now?"

Transfixed, Claire dropped the packet of wet wipes and ice cream cone from her hands and licked her lips as she felt her mouth go dry. Just one look had always been what it took, and she was lost forever in those azure abyssal depths. Something primal took over her, and she could feel a delicious heat scattering from her core, like tiny fiery sparks igniting every nerve and particle alight. She couldn't speak, so instead, with unintentional slowness and shaking hands, Claire unbuttoned her flannel shirt as she watched his eyes strayed lower to the visible bare skin.

Without waiting for a further invitation, and in one deft movement, Jamie pulled her to him, his tongue parting her mouth, probing and teasing, savouring the taste of her. "Christ, ye taste of vanilla and chocolate," he muttered in her lips, as he licked the residual sweet off its corners, before trailing kisses along her jawline and nipping her earlobe. Impatiently he pushed her top down from her shoulders, and with dexterous fingers, he unfastened her jean shorts, sending them sliding down the floor.

Spellbound, Claire twined her arms around his neck as he lifted her from behind her thighs. She could feel him hot and hard, throbbing against her, and instinctively, she slithered her body, rubbing herself against him, making him groan and his abs clench. He laid her down onto the bed, and she watched him pull down her lace panties too eagerly, accidentally ripping the seam of one side. They paused, looking at the torn fabric and then at each other. "What's with your promise of making verra slow love to me?" she teased, trying to imitate his accent.

"We're not in Skye in yet, Sassenach," he answered, a lopsided grin slowly spreading across his face. Then he ripped the other side with a quick, sharp tug, making her squeak in surprise.

Jamie quickly shed his shirt, sweatpants and his boxer shorts, his eyes never leaving hers. Completely naked, he laid between her thighs, spreading them wider apart. Before she knew what he was doing, he pulled her by the waist to hook her legs on his shoulders and to cup her arse with both hands, raising her to kiss her most intimate part. She felt his tongue dart along the folds of her slippery cleft and holding her breath, she clutched tightly on the bed covers as a moan passed her lips. His tongue skimmed and dipped, savouring the taste of her, as one long arm reached to rub her nipples with the palm of a hand, before teasing it with circular motions with his forefinger. She thrashed and gyrated while holding his head firmly between her legs with one hand as one climax rolled after another, propelling soul-shattering spasms to spread through her body.

Her whimpers were hushed by his kiss, and she could taste herself in his mouth. Releasing her lips, he whispered, "Open yer eyes Sassenach and look at me." She did as she was told as he pinned her arms above her head, his eyes lusty and dark. His cock slid inside slowly, stretching her and making her back arch to embrace a renewed assault. He began to thrust rhythmically, one hand raising her arse for deeper penetration, his breathing fast and hot on her neck. His strokes were hard and powerful as he slammed into her over and over again, her legs wrapped tight around his waist. They stared into each other's eyes as their adjoining bodies moved to the beat of their pounding hearts, faster and faster. As he felt her tremble and tighten around him, he picked up speed, lowering his head to kiss her hungrily, plunging deeper and grinding harder. Another powerful thrust and Jamie found his own release, arching his back with a loud grunt before settling gently on top of her.

..........

The hard-won intimacy of their lovemaking had eased the sexual tension that had been building between Jamie and Claire. Whatever uncertainty or hesitancy they had before their trip, it had all dissipated, and it was like a rebirth for their blossoming relationship.

It was already dark when they arrived in a small village of Torridon, and they found a place to stay for the night in a private cottage managed by the village inn. It was called The Boat House, and it owed its name to its proximity to the water's edge overlooking the loch. Claire couldn't wait till morning to see the view as she caught partial glimpses of the lake and surrounding forest in darkness.

Tired and hungry, they made their way to the inn for some nourishment, giggling like a couple of teenagers as they took their seats in a semi-crowded pub. They were oblivious to their surroundings and had only eyes for each other, their minds far from the ordeal that happened less than 24 hours ago. Even the worry of Claire's pregnancy was replaced with optimism and hope as they talked about the future and discussed names for their unborn child. They held each other's hand as Jamie told stories of Lallybroch and of his sister, absorbed in each other's company that they didn't see the approaching figure towards their table.

It was only when a shadow fell upon them that they both looked up, Claire's face turning into one shock astonishment.

"Hello there...my name is Stephen Bonnet an' ah've cum ter collect me missus," drawled an amused voice in a thick broad Irish accent.

"Stephen!"

"Sassenach???"

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: Cracks in Time Chapter 10

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: Cracks in Time Chapter 10 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 10/? SUMMARY: A little girl escapes the Time War when the Timelord’s return in “End of Time Part 2″. The newly regenerated Doctor must now raise the little girl while trying to find out why cracks in time keep following them around.

[A/N - We are back in business! This isn’t one of my favorite episodes, but in each one I’m trying to build Elise’s personality a little more. This chapter is only two chapters, but I’ve started on “Time of Angels/Flesh and Stone”.]

The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS to find several men pointing guns at him.

They stepped aside and Winston Churchill stepped forward.

Amy and Elise hesitantly stepped out of the TARDIS.

“Amy, Elise? Winston Churchill”, the Doctor introduced. Elise hid behind the Doctor’s legs and grabbed onto one of his hands.

“Doctor. Is it you?” Churchill asked.

“Oh, Winston, my old friend”.

Churchill held out his hand.

The Doctor laughed. “Ah, every time”.

“What's he after?” Amy asked.

“TARDIS, of course”, the Doctor told her.

“Think of what I could achieve with your remarkable machine, Doctor. The lives that could be saved”, Churchill said.

“Ah, doesn't work like that”.

“Must I take it by force?”

“I'd like to see you try”.

“At ease”.

The soldiers lowered their guns.

“You rang?” the Doctor asked. He picked Elise up and set her on his shoulders. He was working on a better way to carry her, but this would have to do for now.

They followed Churchill as he explained why they were there.

“So you've changed your face again”, Churchill said, “And you’ve got a little one now”.

“Um, yeah. Had a bit of work done”, the Doctor told him.

“Got it, got it, got it. Cabinet War Rooms, right?” Amy asked.

“Yep. Top secret heart of the War Office, right under London”.

“You're late, by the way”, Churchill told the Doctor.

A woman came to up them and handed Churchill a clipboard. Churchill handed his walking stick to the Doctor.

“Requisitions, sir”, she said.

“Excellent”.

“Late?” the Doctor asked.

“I rang you a month ago”.

“Really? Sorry, sorry. It's a Type Forty TARDIS, it's…I'm just running her in”.

Type Forty TARDIS? Is that why she made a wheezing sound while flying?

“Something the matter, Breen?” Churchill asked the woman, “You look a little down in the dumps”.

“No, sir. Fine, sir”, Breen told him.

“Action this day, Breen. Action this day”.

“Yes, sir”.

A man walked up as Breen walked away. “Excuse me, sir. Got another formation coming in, Prime Minister. Stukas, by the look of them”.

“We shall go up top then, Group Captain. We'll give them what for. Coming, Doctor?” Churchill asked.

“Why?”

He took his walking stick back. “I have something to show you”.

The four of them got into an elevator and it started rising.

“We stand at a crossroads, Doctor, quite alone, with our backs to the wall. Invasion is expected daily. So I will grasp with both hands anything that will give us an advantage over the Nazi menace”, Churchill said.

“Such as?” the Doctor asked.

“Follow me”.

They stepped out onto the roof.

Churchill gestured to a man surrounded by sandbags with binoculars in his hands. “Doctor, this is Professor Edwin Bracewell. Head of our Ironsides Project”.

The Doctor threw up a V for Victory sign.

“How do you do?” Bracewell said.

A bomb landed nearby and Elise screamed.

The Doctor pulled down off his shoulders and held her to his chest. He rubbed her back in an attempt to comfort her.

“Oh, Doctor. Doctor, it's…” Amy said, looking at all the barrage balloons.

“History”.

“Ready, Bracewell?” Churchill asked.

“Aye aye, sir. On my order, fire!”

A bolt of energy shot out from some sandbags.

“What was that?” Amy asked.

“That wasn't human. That was never human technology. That sounded like…Show me. Show me. Show me what that was!” the Doctor said, handing Elise off to Amy.

She held the little girl on her hip as the Doctor climbed a ladder.

“Advance”, Bracewell said.

“Our new secret weapon. Ha!” Churchill told him.

A Dalek came rolling forward.

Elise saw the Dalek and immediately started screaming again.

Amy tried to comfort her, but the little girl was shaking in her arms.

“What do you think? Quite something, eh?” Churchill asked.

“What are you doing here?” the Doctor asked the Dalek.

“I am your soldier”.

“What?”

“I am your soldier”.

“Stop this. Stop now. Now, you know who I am. You always know”.

“Your identity is unknown”.

“Perhaps I can clarify things here. This is one of my Ironsides”, Bracewell said.

“Your what?” the Doctor asked.

“You will help the Allied cause in any way that you can?” Bracewell asked the Dalek.

“Yes”.

“Until the Germans have been utterly smashed”.

“Yes”.

“And what is your ultimate aim?”

“To win the war”.

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

They went back to Churchill’s office after stopping off at the TARDIS.

Elise was now wrapped in a blanket and had a stuffed bear in her arms.

Amy held her as the Doctor argued with Churchill.

“They're Daleks. They're called Daleks”, the Doctor told him.

“They are Bracewell's Ironsides, Doctor. Look. Blueprints, statistics, field tests, photographs. He invented them”.

“Invented them? Oh, no, no, no”.

“Yes. He approached one of our brass hats a few months ago. Fellow's a genius”.

“A Scottish genius, too. Maybe you should listen to…” Amy said.

The Doctor hushed her sharply and Amy backed off. “He didn't invent them. They're alien”, the Doctor told Churchill.

“Alien?”

One of the Daleks rolled past the door way.

Elise whined and hid her face in Amy’s neck.

“And totally hostile”, the Doctor said.

“Precisely. They will win me the war”, Churchill argued. Churchill was called to one of the war rooms and they followed.

“Why won't you listen to me? Why did you call me in if you won't listen to me?” the Doctor asked.

“When I rang you a month ago, I must admit I had my doubts. The Ironsides seemed too good to be true”.

“Yes. Right. So destroy them. Exterminate them”.

“But imagine what I could do with a hundred. A thousand”.

“I am imagining”.

A Dalek rolled past them and Elise once again hid her face in Amy’s neck.

“Amy, tell him”, the Doctor told her.

“Tell him what?”

“About the Daleks”.

“What would I know about the Daleks?”

“Everything. They invaded your world, remember? Planets in the sky. You don't forget that. Amy, tell me you remember the Daleks”.

“No, sorry”.

“That's not possible”.

Amy, the Doctor, and Elise entered the map room and Amy set Elise on the floor. Her arms were getting tired of carrying the Timelord child. Now she knew why the Doctor kept handing her off or putting her on his shoulders.

“So, they're up to something. But what is it? What are they after?” the Doctor asked.

“Well, let's just ask, shall we?” Amy said walking over to one.

“Amy. Amelia!”

Amy tapped on the Dalek’s shell and its eyestalk turned towards her.

“A…A…” Elise squeaked.

“Can I be of assistance?” the Dalek asked.

“Oh. Yes, yes. See, my friend reckons you're dangerous. That you're an alien. Is it true?” Amy asked it.

“I am your soldier”.

“Yeah. Got that bit. Love a squaddie. What else, though?”

“Please excuse me. I have duties to perform”.

The Dalek rolled away and Elise ran over to Amy.

“Hey, hey. I’m okay”, Amy said, petting her hair.

The Doctor walked over to Churchill and grabbed the cigar out of his mouth. “Winston. Winston, please”.

“We are waging total war, Doctor. Day after day the Luftwaffe pound this great city like an iron fist”.

“Wait till the Daleks get started”.

“Men, women and children slaughtered. Families torn apart. Wren's churches in flame”.

“Yeah. Try the Earth in flames”. The Doctor said the last statement quietly, not wanting to upset Elise.

“I weep for my country. I weep for my empire. It is breaking my heart”.

“You're resisting, Winston. The whole world knows you're resisting. You're a beacon of hope”.

“But for how long? Millions of innocent lives will be saved if I use these Ironsides now”.

“Can I be of assistance?” the Dalek asked, interrupting the conversation.

“Shut it”, the Doctor snapped at it. He turned back to Churchill. “Listen to me. Just listen. The Daleks have no conscience, no mercy, no pity. They are my oldest and deadliest enemy. You cannot trust them”.

“If Hitler invaded hell, I would give a favorable reference to the Devil. These machines are our salvation”.

A siren went off.

“Oh, the All Clear. We are safe, for now”, Churchill said, leaving with the Dalek following.

Amy and Elise came over to the Doctor.

“Doctor, it's the All Clear. You okay?” Amy asked him.

“What does hate look like, Amy?”

“Hate?”

“It looks like a Dalek. And I'm going to prove it”.

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

Amy and Elise followed the Doctor to Bracewell’s laboratory.

“All right, Prof. Now, the PM's been filling me in. Amazing things, these Ironsides of yours. Amazing. You must be very proud of them”, the Doctor said.

“Just doing my bit”, Bracewell told him.

“Not bad for a Paisley boy”, Amy commented.

“Yes, I thought I detected a familiar cadence, my dear”.

“How did you do it? Come up with the idea?” the Doctor asked him.

“How does the muse of invention come to anyone?”

“But you get a lot of these clever notions, do you?”

“Well, ideas just seem to teem from my head. Wonderful things, like. Let me show you. Some musings on the potential of hyper-sonic flight. Gravity bubbles that can sustain life outside of the terrestrial atmosphere. Came to me in the bath”.

As Bracewell held up the files, the Doctor looked them over before tossing them aside. “And are these your ideas or theirs?” he asked.

“Oh no, no, no. These robots are entirely under my control, Doctor”.

A Dalek rolled up to them with a cup of tea balanced on a tray.

Bracewell took the tea. “They are the perfect servant, and the perfect warrior”. “I don't know what you're up to, Professor, but whatever they've promised, you cannot trust them. Call them what you like, the Daleks are death”.

“Yes, Doctor. Death to our enemies. Death to the forces of darkness, and death to the Third Reich”, Churchill said entering the room.

“Yes, Winston, and death to everyone else too”, the Doctor said.

“Would you care for some tea?” the Dalek asked.

The Doctor knocked the tray from his sucker and snapped. “Stop this!”

Amy pushed Elise behind her as the Doctor started questioning the Dalek.

“What are you doing here? What do you want?”

“We seek only to help you”.

“To do what?”

“To win the war”.

“Really? Which war?”

“I do not understand”.

“This war, against the Nazis, or your war? The war against the rest of the Universe? The war against all life forms that are not Dalek?”

“I do not understand. I am your soldier”.

“Oh, yeah? Okay. Okay, soldier, defend yourself”. The Doctor picked up a large spanner and started to hit the Dalek.

Amy picked Elise up and carried her outside the room as she started screaming.

“Doctor, what the devil?!” Churchill yelled.

“You do not require tea?” the Dalek asked him.

“Stop him! Prime Minister, please!” Bracewell begged as the Doctor continued to hit the Dalek.

“Doctor, what the devil? Please, these machines are precious”, Churchill told him.

“Come on. Fight back. You want to, don't you? You know you do”.

“I must protest!” Bracewell said.

“What are you waiting for? Look, you hate me. You want to kill me. Well, go on. Kill me. Kill me!” the Doctor yelled.

“Please desist from striking me. I am your soldier”, the Dalek said.

“You are my enemy! And I am yours. You are everything I despise. The worst thing in all creation. I've defeated you time and time again. I've defeated you. I sent you back into the Void. I saved the whole of reality from you. I am the Doctor. And you are the Daleks!” He kicked the Dalek and it went rolling backwards.

“Correct. Review testimony”, the Dalek said.

A recording of the Doctor played. “I am the Doctor. And you are the Daleks”.

“Testimony. What are you talking about, testimony?” the Doctor asked.

“Transmitting testimony now”.

“Transmit what, where?”

“Testimony accepted”.

“Get back, all of you”, the Doctor told them.

“Marines! Marines, get in here!” Churchill yelled.

Amy rushed into the room holding Elise and ran for the Doctor.

The Marines who followed were exterminated.

“Stop it, stop it, please. What are you doing? You are my Ironsides”, Bracewell said.

“We are the Daleks”.

“But I created you”.

“No”. The Dalek blasted off Bracewell’s hand. “We created you. Victory. Victory. Victory”. The Daleks teleported and they were gone.

“What just happened, Doctor?” Amy asked.

“I wanted to know what they wanted. What their plan was. I was their plan”. He ran out of the room.

“Hey!” Amy called. She groaned and followed after him, the tiny Timelord still in her arms.

[the-forrest-for-the-trees]

((TempThornton)) What is your favorite plant?

“Hrm… s’pose as a Gilnean born and bred, I’m duty-bound to champion th’ Rose. eh?”

Brow arching with the hint of a smile, Dan chuffed out a little laugh. Whether he was amused by the question or his own thoughts on an answer might not have been clear, but it was a friendly enough chuckle nonetheless. He shook his head as he turned back to the campfire, tossing the too-shaggy waves of an unruly mop from his eyes.

“Can’t say as I saw many a live one growing up, guttersnipe that I was. They’d long been cut, snipped, dried or carved into the woodwork by the time they found their way down the docks. Might’ve been emblazoned on a ship’s flag. Or hung on the bunting outside the sort of shoppes what didn’t welcome shoeless patrons.”

“Pretty enough, though… there’s few flowers as lovely, by sight an’ smell. An’ she -is- our symbol… much preferable to the wolf skulls, if ye ask me. Tad dramatic, those. Both sides flew her during the troubles… but I can’t say it’s ever held much in the way o’ meaning for me.”

Never one to rush when he could take his time, Dan mused for a minute or two, dropping from a squat to his knees in the dirt beyond the fire. The silence was kept companionable by the happy little burbling of a pot that’d just begun to steam over the flames.

“-Certainly- isn’t wolfsbane,” he piped up, chortling a little ruefully at memories only his mind’s eye could see.

Gauging the pot to be ready, Dan hefted it off a makeshift spit he’d cobbled over the stones, motioning towards a pack near the shrub-shrouded lean-to he’d seat up earlier. “Fetch us a second cup, will you?”

Rummaging around in there if she would, Temperance found one to match the first; a small, but sturdy earthenware cup, simple dwarven sigilwork etched into the sides. Where the glazed-over clay seemed an unusually warm shade of gray, the band of geometric designs wrapped around each glimmered like silver in the firelight.

“Shamanwrought,” he explained as the glimmer caught at the corner of his gaze, assuming she might be curious as to craftsmanship. “Cost me a few extra coin, but they’re unbreakable.”

“…break-resistant, anyway. There -was- a set… but -someone’s- a little clumsy a’ times, hHHM?” Dan’s voice lilted upwards at the last, cast towards the wood where his shaggy, four-legged traveling companion was snuffling through nearby underbrush like a pig after truffles.

“Anyway. Have to say I’m partial to these.” He poured for her, then himself, meeting the woman’s amaranthine gaze to see if she could pick out the scents. Sadly, it wasn’t much of a fair test; unless she had a nose like his hound, it would have been difficult to identify two herbs in the midst of a forest that smelt like dozens.

‘Swiftthistle an’ Silverleaf. Leaf cuts down on th’ bitterness… an’ keeps the thistle from making ye too swift, if ye take my meaning. Last thing a gent cooking o’er open fires in the wood wants is th’ jitters.”

An open smile creased his features at last, hefting his tea in salute of the company. As they sipped at it together, his smile faded somewhat… the look of a man seeing memories in the steam off his cup. Not unpleasant, yet neither free of pain.

“My favorite, though? Ivy. Briars. Brambles.”

“Some say they’re no more’n overgrown weeds - out of control, choking th’ life from whatever they’ve clambered over. They can be snipped and pruned all pretty-like, aye, but no greenthumb ever lets’em conquer a garden they’ve been toiling over.”

“Only folk’d do that are the ones think beauty’s best left wild.”

“Or the ones’d bury a past they no longer wish to see.”

“Those who sought a fresh start.”

“Suppose that’s both.”