#i think children that auntie em might be as they say

[lumpofcohle]

*nervous laughter* hoo boy, it's 7am and i'm not sleepy yet and that usually only happens when i either get moderna or have covid

[gabessquishytum]

Hellooooooo

Alright I got a weird AU idea not sure what to call it but it involves one of our favorite things ✨pregnant dream✨ 

So Dream decides he would like to retire and become an immortal human like Hob. one problem though, he’s got no heir to the dreaming and he can’t use Daniel (for plot reasons idk) so Hob hearing “heirs” has something light up in his old peasant brain and he’s like “what if we make em the old fashion way?” Dream agrees under the condition that if the child is not fit to usher the dreaming they will keep having children until one of them is ready and willing. 

The first child is Determination of the Endless (I mean he’s Hob’s kid after all) they also give their children human names because they will spend about equal amounts of time in the waking as the dreaming (and Dante looks less suspicious on a birth name than Determination does) the next kid is Deception of the Endless (hob blames his mercenary days for that one) he’s a really sweet kid though, they name him Dimitri, (might as well stick to a theme at this point) they learn that the children have developed their own realms albeit smaller than their older Endless family members. Then something happens. Delight is born, this reassures them that a new being can take on an old endless moniker and Auntie Delirium is happy to show Delia (Delight) the ropes. They get another sweet docile baby girl and are surprised to learn she’s Destruction (it makes more sense in her toddler years) her name is Daphne. Than Hope is born. (This is ENTIRELY Hob’s Fault) Hob is a little confused as to why she is the only endless without a D at the start of her function. Then it’s time to name her. 

“I mean we could just call her Hope, it’s a human girl’s name and it would be one less name to remember.” Hob chirps cuddled up with dream and the new baby who is the spitting image of Hob.

“Hmmm” Dream rumbles. 

“I was thinking she doesn’t need to follow the tradition of a D human name.” He says shifting closer to Hob.

“Really? Do you have any suggestions?”

Dream hums in response like he hasn’t been planning this for the past nine months. 

“I was considering perhaps…Roberta?” 

Hob gasps softly. “Really, you want to name one of the little ones after me?”

“Look at her, she has your light, Hob”

Hob and Roberta become thick as thieves after that. A nearly inseparable father-daughter duo. Hob and Rob (although she prefers Robbie) 

Then the sixth baby arrives, Dante is in his twenties at this point, (they had the kids farther apart so each of them could get proper attention but still close enough for a proper sibling bond)

This baby to everyone’s shock is Dream of the Endless, at least dream of the endless jr.

“Hob!” Dream calls from his bed.

“Yes darling?” Hob immediately runs into the room, he’s at dreams beck and call (I mean he ALWAYS is but especially after a new baby is born) 

“What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

Dream beckons for Hob to climb into bed with him and hands him the baby. He’s an absolute carbon copy of dream.

“Oh, he looks just like his father,”

“That means he’ll have the attitude of his Papa” Dream retorts.

Hob sticks his tongue out, “you love me.” 

“Now what’s this one’s function?”

“Dream,” 

Hob stares at his husband in awe, “you mean this is it? You’ve got a proper heir now? Aw, I was hoping to at least get four more hoblings out of you,”

Dream snickers, “just because I have an heir doesn’t mean I want to stop having children, Hob Gadling,”

Hob lights up, “you mean it?” 

Dream nods, “besides it’s quite odd to only have six new endless, it should be seven like the original,”

“Seven? I can do that!” 

They nickname the baby Drowsy of the Endless so no one gets confused, his human name is Dorian.

“No Dream I’m not putting Morpheus the second on a birth certificate that’ll get us flagged for sure” 

The final child, the seventh endless is…

“Danger”

“You’re kidding,”

“No this child is Danger of the Endless”

“You just ran out of D words tell me his real function you git,” 

“This is your son, Danger, Hob Gadling”

Hob sighs, “We just got all of Destruction’s stuff cleaned up, you’re telling me I have to parent a toddler whose natural tendency is towards danger?” Hob groans.

“Isn’t that all toddlers?” Dream smirks as Hob buries his face in his hands. 

They name him Damien and he is a proper little hellion but the perfect edition to their little family and the next generation of Endless.

I just think the giant family dynamic is fun. I’d write a fic but I’m retired from fanfic writing. Thought I’d drop this off as an another Hob and Dream have a large family au.

-🦎

The Hoblings 😭😭 I'm absolutely in love with this whole au!!! I love the idea of a new generation of Endless, its so lovely.

Imagine their interactions with Dream's siblings! Ollie would be so good with the new Destruction and Danger, and Desire would have great fun with Deception. I bet Delirium would be so overjoyed to meet the new Delight. It takes a village to raise a child and it will certainly take the whole family to raise a gaggle of half human, half Endless kiddos.

Dream and Hob are wonderful parents, which is to say - they fuck up a lot and the house is always a mess, but they love their kids so fiercely. Hob and Roberta and Determination are an absolute disaster trio. Dream and little Drowsy spend most of their time silently judging the shenanigans.

I just love the idea of the new generation of Endless getting this loving, amazing childhood that Dream and his siblings never really had. Of course things aren't perfect, but there's so much love in the house. Hob is so proud of Dream and their kids, and he feels so grateful to get this second chance at a family. Watching their children grow and become the best versions of themselves is a reward he knows he doesn't deserve, but he's endlessly thankful to the universe anyway <3

[sootonthecarpet]

are u doing the spotify thing hesed? if so, 7, 14, 21!

oohh that's a satisfying number set! lemme check. ok I don't remember how to embed songs so I might have to just link em. ok wait I figured it out. wait the exact same method stopped working after the first time I embedded it and I accidentally deleted the first one so I can't just copy the html so I'm just gonna link. dammit.

7: Hash Pipe by Weezer. There were a lot of horny songs about drug use in my top ten (to say nothing of the year I've had) and I think this one may actually be the tamest by a pretty long shot. I don't think this is a song that needs much commentary bc many people have heard it before and already know how they feel. I like the bass riff.

14: Truth and Reconciliation by Tok. Oh man. Ohhhh man. This thing is good. it's really sexy (good bpm too) and it layers up gradually and I don't think the band had very good microphones. there's a decent amount of Tok on this list and I'm really glad we hit one. I just started listening to them like a year ago and I really vibe with their style and, when I can understand what they're fucking saying, their lyrical content. I think this is actually my favorite song of theirs even though a different Tok song wound up as this year's #1.

21: Negative Creep by Nirvana. look, I think this one would've been a respectable 60-80-range pick on my list except for last spring I had a not atypical but particularly stressful encounter in the park with a suburban mom or auntie/young grandma or something. her kid was about to go through the picnic area (where I was) to get to the playground area, and she saw me and immediately rounded him up to leave the park (while staring at me the whole time and uhh, her body language changed completely to acting like she saw some kind of terrifying beast and had to back away slowwwwly) and she specifically told him like, 'i think you want to go home now' even tho he clearly wanted to join the other kids on the playground equipment. now, everyone is entitled to their opinion, and I try not to read too much into why well-dressed older white women periodically see me and assume I am a danger to their children or themselves, but as I was having a really rough time already that day (had actively fought thru and reasoned with a bunch of of 'theyre going to think I'm dangerous and scary if I go out in public' type thoughts, for one), the encounter sucked absolute asssssss. I wound up listening to this song one thousand billion times in the subsequent week. thank u Kurt.

[thebigqueer]

Genuine thoughts on the pjo tv series?

i had a lot more thoughts when i first finished the show so this isnt as comprehensive as it could be but these are all the most important things i can remember. but im glad you asked cuz im alwasy ready to answer this question

i didnt hate it. i think i might have had too high expectations but ill be watching s2.

i will say that i think they def stuck to the books more, which i liked, but they made some changes i def didnt like.

my biggest issue was probably with the way that the kids - especially percy - just knew everything going on, because it took a lot away from the childlike wonder that the books had when the trio went on their first quest. i think the fact that percy didn't know a lot in the books was also essential to kid readers, who most likely dont know anything about greek mythology. obviously i think the fact that show percy knows a lot is good because it highlights his intelligence & could be explained by the fact that his mother told him all the stories, but at the same time i think percy served as a really important way to teach kids about the greek myths, so it kind of sucks that he immediately knows whats going on at some points, especially when we have no idea as to how he even learned about it. for example, at some points it made sense that percy knew what was going on, like when they realized quick that Auntie Em's Gnome Emporium was where medusa lived. but when we came to crusty's place, they just totally skipped everything about how percy came to find out about who crusty even was. taking out that context totally messed things up, because if i wasnt a reader i literally would not have understood how we even got there and how percy knew who this guy was. i understand it was to save time, but i think it couldve been handled better.

on the note of medusa, LOVED THAT EPISODE. i thought it had to be one of the best episodes of the season because it really displayed how no one is ever 1 dimensional, and i loved the way they drew to sally and medusa's similariteis because it really made percy consider what "good" and "bad" really meant - which is to say, theres never a clear line. and i loved that annabeth was so reserved because it really served to how wholly she beleives in her mother and the gods because it sets up her character arc so well. the entire episode was just so good. ALSO THE ACTRESS FOR MEDUSA WAS WAYYYYY TOO GOOD. too good.

the lotus casino episode was probably my least-liked because of the way they executed it. in the books that part was so fun and colorful because it was just the kids being kids - of course they were going to waste time having fun. but in the show they were so caught up in the mission that it kind of sucked not being able to see them just having fun like kids do. thats what i mean when i feel like the show just took so much away from that whimsy that kids have. i dont remember where i read it, but someone once replied to one of my posts with something about how they were kids just by physical appearance but not in character (or not completely) and i agree with that. i mean, sure, they had their scenes where they argued over trivial things like candy and chips and splashed percy with water because they seriously thought it would help, but i just so wish we coudlve seen them having fun being kids at the lotus casino.

im also not saying that they act like adults. they def dont act like adults (which is good) but theyre just not as childish as they were in the books, which is why im kind of disappointed. to sum it up, what im trying to say is that i think the show was just so focused on the plot points that they forgot to add in the children's characteristic qualities at points, because the storyline was just so plot-focused that i feel like even the points that the kids were supposed to be silly and funny just didnt hit the way they wouldve in the books.

this is more minor but i wish the scene where annabeth tries to reason with hephaestus when percy's stuck in the chair was somehow longer, or just ended with more vagueness. i loved the way leah took charge of that scene and i thought it was a really good execution, but i didnt understand how it only took hephaestus 5 minute of being scolded by a 12 year old to suddenly change his mind about power. i guess that could say something about annabeth's persuasiveness, but in reality it was just the showrunners trying to finish up scenes lol. i think what im trying to say is that the scene just felt sped up when it couldve been slower, or maybe the scene couldve ended with a little more of a lingering question that would make viewers wonder about the implications of this scene.

LOVED THE SALLY AND POSEIDON SCENE. PROBS ONE OF MY FAVS.

i didnt like the way hades was portrayed. im not saying the king of the underworld cant be funny but i felt like the way they changed hades will not do good to the rest of the show, especially if we get into season 3 or when we learn about hades' kids, beacuse i dont think itll line up with the way hades treats his kids later on in the series. like i cant imagine we get to season 5 and this is the hades storming into the battle in manhattan. sure, hes funny, but it does not line up with his character in the books at all. i dont mind minor changes to the books, but when youre completely changing an entire character - one whos important to the series as a whole - whats the point in calling it a book-accurate show 😭

i loveddd the lsat episode i loved the dream sequence and i loved that they went back to montauk i thought it added so much to the show.

this is minor but also not - WHY DIDNT ANYONE BOW WHEN PERCY GOT CLAIMED. THAT WAS SUCH A POWERFUL SCENE IN THE BOOK AND IT REALLY SET PERCY APART WHICH WOUDLVE DONE WONDERS FOR THE WAY PERCY ACTS IN TEH FIRST TWO EPS because hes like 'im so different and everyone keeps telling me im special but it all feels so condescending and no ones explaining anything to me.' FOREVER MAD THAT I COULDNT SEE THAT SHIT WITH MY OWN EYES. WHATS EVEN THE POINT OF ANYTHING ANYMORE

sally was portrayed interestingly. i know everyone has a lot of different opinions about how she was portrayed, as well as how gabe and the way the abuse in their family was potrayed and i agree and disagree with a lot of the points ive seen on the internet. firstly i did like that sally was portrayed with a lot more strength and stubbornness than the movie did, but at the same time there were points where i felt like she acted so un-sally like. ex. i like the way she was so serious & nervous & anxious with percy at the pool because that made sense; but i didnt think the scene where she was ordering percy to open the door was something i was expecting. and i understand that the entire situation was so difficult for both her and percy so it makes sense that she was easily frustrated with percy not listening to her, but i feel like at the very least she wouldve tried another line or two of reasoning with percy before ordering him to open the door, because in the books she seems a little more patient with him. idk this was a super specific moment lol i think what im trying to say is she doesnt feel like the same sally that i remember in the books, and thats def not a bad thing at all but at the same time i feel like the way they potrayed sally in terms of her mannerisms just isnt who she is. she is adamant and indepednent and blah blah but its the little things in her portrayal that dont feel the same.

on the topic of gabe's abuse - i know abuse can be more than just physical and we def saw aspects of the more financial and emotional abuse in the show. but i didnt like how gabe was portrayed because yeah he seems like a shitty guy but thats all he had; theres no context as to why hes even in their life or even how he got in there. i think the best way to describe it is the way i saw someone else describe it: he's gabe, just not smelly gabe from the books. so its essentially teh same thing as the sally bullet - i feel like they got rid of some of the important characteristics of gabe so his presence in teh story doesnt feel the same. i think this could be said about most of the characters in the show.

thats about all i can remember. theyre just my thoughts, and theyre not the most clean thoughts so sorry if its confusing. its been a minute since ive watched the show so im sure theres other thoughts and im sure my opinions could change if i watch again. but yeah thanks for asking anon!!

[princesssarisa]

False Memories from My Favorite Childhood Stories

It's not uncommon for people to have false memories about movies, books, news reports. Scientists call it confabulation. When many people share the same one, it's called the Mandela Effect, after the surprising number of people who distinctly remember hearing the news that Nelson Mandela had died in the 1980s (which he didn't). Sometimes I see people misremember books and movies in ways that I know are mistakes. But just recently, I've realized that I have some confabulation of my own from childhood books and movies.

Casual racism in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland – which isn't there. When Alice thinks that she had better check the "Drink Me" bottle to make sure that it isn't marked "poison," the narrator states "...for she had read several nice little stories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them." But that isn't exactly what I remembered that passage saying. I wish I hadn't lost my childhood copy of the book – which I think was a facsimile of the first edition – because I could have sworn that the passage said "...for she had read several nice little stories about children who had been stolen away by g****es, and eaten up by wild beasts..." etc. (In case it's not clear, the word I've censored is the popular slur for Romani people.) When I recently reread the book and found that it said "burnt," not "stolen away by g****es," I thought that maybe this was a difference between editions of the book, since I know Lewis Carroll made revisions to the text each time it was republished in his lifetime. But though I've searched and searched online, I can't find a version of that passage with the quote I remember. The wording does vary slightly between the different editions online (i.e. "nice little stories" vs. "nice little histories," and "burnt" vs. "burned"), but not drastically. Not that I'm unhappy about that fact – on the contrary, I'm relieved that there's no casual racism in that passage after all! But I can't believe I somehow misremembered it as featuring that racist line! Is there, in fact, an edition of the book that talks about children being kidnapped by g*****s instead of being burnt? Or did I just make it up?

The fate of the ruby slippers in The Wizard of Oz. My false memory is just the opposite of the common one. Dozens of people remember that at the end, after Dorothy said "And oh, Auntie Em, there's no place like home!" either the camera panned down to reveal the ruby slippers under her bed, or else Dorothy got out of bed to reveal the ruby slippers on her feet. Of course neither of those things happen in any version of the movie, and I've never been one of the people who share those memories. But I have a different yet equally vivid false memory of my own. Until a few days ago, I was firmly convinced that during the second closeup of the ruby slippers as Dorothy tapped her heels together, just before the flashback to the house falling, the slippers disappeared from Dorothy's feet, leaving her in just her socks. I could have sworn that this was a decisive "end of the magic" moment that I remembered from countless childhood viewings of the movie. Yet I just rewatched the scene, and it doesn't happen! Maybe I somehow conflated that moment with the earlier scene in Munchkinland where the slippers disappear from the dead Witch of the East's feet. Maybe it was because I had also read the book, where the silver shoes fall off and are lost in the desert during Dorothy's flight home. But whatever the cause, the image stands out in my mind: the ruby slippers clicking together, and then suddenly vanishing, leaving only Dorothy's blue socks on her feet. I can't believe I just made that image up! Is there any place that memory might have originated from?

Mufasa's fatal crash to the ground in The Lion King. One famous case of a widely-misremembered childhood movie is Bambi. Countless people insist that when they first saw the movie, they remember seeing Bambi's mother being shot and falling to the ground onscreen. Of course this has never been the case; her death has always just been signified by an offscreen gunshot. I never made that mistake regarding Bambi. But I did make a similar mistake about the notorious death scene in the beloved "Bambi meets Hamlet in Africa," The Lion King. Until the last time I rewatched the movie, I could have sworn that after Scar threw Mufasa from the cliff and Simba cried "No!" the scene cut back to the falling Mufasa, who plunged straight toward the "camera." Then the screen abruptly went black with a loud thud. Now of course this isn't true: we don't see or hear Mufasa's crash to the ground in any capacity. But I was sure that I remembered seeing the scene end in the way I just described. I think there were probably four factors involved with this faulty memory. (1) At first Mufasa does plunge straight toward the "camera," before the scene shifts to an overhead view of his fall as he screams, and then to Simba's "No!" (2) My memory might have conflated Mufasa's fall with the crash-landing of Dorothy's house in The Wizard of Oz, which is shot in exactly the same way I remembered the former. (3) When I was little, being hyper-sensitive, I always covered my eyes during the stampede scene, so naturally it left a fuzzier impression than other parts of the movie did. (4) Mufasa's death has such a powerful emotional impact, like the death of Bambi's mother, that it's only natural to misremember it as being shown more graphically than it really is.

Maybe there is an alternate universe where the above memories are all true, as some people who study the Mandela Effect think there is. Or maybe it's all just imagination.

[reidjumpers]

Here Comes the Sun: Love Song

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warning/Includes: None! Fluff, BAU team being wholesome, Spencer is happy

Series Summary: A journey of going through parenthood with Spencer.

Chapter Summary: Spencer never knew it was possible to be in love more than he already had with you, but he didn’t mind being proven wrong from time to time. The love that burst from his chest was like a garden of fireworks in July, warm and exciting and merry. It was impossible for him not to smile every time his eyes landed on his sleeping daughter in his arms, her tiny mouth yawning every now and then.

Note: in the spirit of father’s day, I present you a very delightful and soft fic about Spencer and BAU team meeting his daughter for the first time. I also would like present an idea: dilf!Spencer Reid. Discuss.

previous chapter, series masterlist.

Spencer plopped into the couch with a quiet sigh. Sleep deprivation slowly caught up with his body as soon as he landed on the soft cushion, eyes drooped and struggled to stay open, but the weight on his arms kept rocking him awake. He blinked his eyes to clear his vision, smiling widely at the bundle of joy in his arms.

The sun and the world outside had been long awake, but Spencer marveled at the stillness and quietness of the hospital room as he held his newborn daughter close. She had come earlier than her due date the doctor carefully predicted, seemingly eager to meet her parents and love to give them a series of surprises. You had swatted him awake in the middle of the night with the urgency of a dying person in your arms, panicked when your water broke when the sky was still dark outside.

After long hours of sweat and pain, your whines and cries filled the walls and Spencer was rendered helpless as he held your hand, your daughter came into the world right when the sun rose into the horizon, her wail was strong and loud as she announced her presence into the world. He didn’t know that the sound of a wail could be so relieving and beautiful, goop and any other bodily fluids was not a concern as he finally held her for the first time, squirming and screaming.

He hadn’t put her down since except when she was being cleaned and you fed her. Spencer never knew it was possible to be in love more than he already had with you, but he didn’t mind being proven wrong from time to time. The love that bursting from his chest was like a garden of fireworks in July, warm and exciting and merry. It was impossible for him not to smile every time his eyes landed on his sleeping daughter in his arms, her tiny mouth yawning every now and then. Her nose really resembles yours, he thought, and he couldn’t be happier.

Spencer made a mental note to call your parents and send a letter to his mom. Taking tons of pictures too for them to see.

But for now, he just wanted to sit down and relish the moment. You were sleeping soundly on the bed, exhausted from the long hours of labor and nine months of growing an absolutely beautiful human being. Spencer made sure to be quiet and careful with his movements to not wake you up, determined to let you get a peaceful sleep after antagonizing days of lack of sleep.

He never knew it was possible for him to reach this point in life. To think about it, he never knew it was a possibility or even an option for him before you walked into his life unprompted. Spencer always liked to think about it as a gift straight up from Gods above, not that he ever told you that out loud.

A quiet and gentle knock on the door bursted out his bubble. Spencer blinked as he quietly shuffled towards the door with his daughter still in his arms, reluctant to let her go in fear she would crumble into dust and everything was a mere figment of his imagination. He didn’t make it halfway through the room before the door was gently swung open, a familiar face peeked through the gap with a soft smile.

“Hey, boy wonder. Heard that the newest member of The Reids was born this morning,” Garcia greeted him with a soft smile. She wore a blue outer with a white dress underneath that reminded Spencer of Cinderella’s fairy godmother. The thought made him grin. “Oh my God, is that her?”

“Hey, Garcia,” Spencer made sure his voice was quiet, careful not to stir his daughter and you from slumber. “Come here, meet Aika.”

Garcia shuffled towards him and Aika in his arms, her heels clicking against the floor. Spencer noticed the team quietly let themselves into the room, quiet and no words exchanged as their eyes landed on your sleeping form. Even then, you were still stirred awake from sensing another presence other than him and your newborn baby, smiling when you caught the sight of the whole team in your room. And Aika must have sensed another presence in the room she was not familiar with and started to wail.

Spencer cooed, “Shhh. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s just your aunts and your uncles.” Softest of voices reserved for her, rocking her back and forth in vain attempt to ease her fear of unfamiliar presences. Everyone cooed and awed at the sound of her wailing, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the sound of his heart cracking in his chest at the sight of her crying.

Your hands immediately reached for Aika, an exhausted yet happy smile on your face as Spencer gently placed her on your chest. Her wails immediately quieted down and turned into soft whimpers and sobs, melted right away at the first contact of your skin as if it soothed her from any worries the world might offer. Spencer’s heart was aching from the sight alone, happiness blossoming inside his chest like flowers in the spring and he swore he would turn the world upside down if it meant his daughter and you were happy and safe.

Morgan pulled a chair next to your bed, “Hey, mama. How do you feel?”

You scrunch your nose. “Sore, but happy,” you sighed happily as Aika curled up on your chest, nodding off. “She’s really fond of giving her parents surprises.”

“Figure as much,” Emily nudged your shoulder gently, a wide smile on her face. Spencer noticed that a presence of a child near the team tends to fish out their best smiles, soft and happy and warm. It wasn’t the first time they were near children, but it was only now he took notice. “Given that her parents love to give us surprises too.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Would you like to hold her?”

Emily nodded, excited with the prospect of holding your newborn but also scared at the thought of holding one. Spencer stood right next to her immediately, reminding himself that he didn’t need to freak out at the sight of his baby in another person’s arm beside him and you.

“Careful, watch her head,” Spencer grimaced.

“Be gentle, Prentiss,” Morgan joked, standing up to see Aika closer in Emily’s arm. Emily’s face was a flashing mixture of awe and concern.

“Hush, I know, I know,” Emily shot him a mock glare, lips twitching into a smile. Aika blinked her eyes towards Emily briefly before she fell back into her peaceful slumber again, as if she didn’t just cry her hearts out minutes before. “Hi, Aika. Auntie Em here.”

“She’s beautiful,” JJ breathed. Her knuckles gently caressed Aika’s cheek and cooed at the sight of her leaning into her touch. She turned around slightly to address you, “She has your nose.”

Spencer grinned and nodded in approval, glad that someone beside him noticed the little quirks and beautiful resemblance between you and Aika. Everyone made a round to greet Aika that was sleeping soundly in Emily’s arm, loving and adoring with their soft voices. It was such a thrilling and relieving fact that Aika was born with so many people who love her already.

“A baby girl for the first time after three boys,” Rossi mused after he greeted Aika, “I have the feeling she will be spoiled rotten by every one of you here.”

You and Spencer shared a look while Garcia snorted, “Please, I spoil everyone equally.”

Laughter rang through the wall, warm like summer breeze and familiar like an old sweater. Hotch announced that he will head down to the cafeteria to grab something to bite, and everyone followed him with the exception of Emily. Rossi announced about paying for everyone’s food — that includes yours and Spencer’s — and a loud cheer was out and faded as they took a sharp left turn towards the hallway.

Morgan was halfway out the door when you called him, “Morgan, can you stay here for a little while?”

“Yeah?” he turned around slowly, walking back in with eyebrows furrowed together. “What’s up?”

Spencer glanced at you and you nodded at him. There had been a lot of conversations between you and him regarding this decision. An honor that both you and him would love to give. “So, we’ve been talking a lot,” Spencer glanced at you. “We both agree and would love to have you and Emily as Aika’s godparents.”

“You kidding…” Emily trailed, surprise painted clearly in her face. Spencer scooted next to her immediately, hands hovering right below Aika in fear she might have dropped her out of surprise. “I— wow. Really?”

You nodded. “Yeah. What do you say?”

“I’ll be honored,” Morgan replied almost immediately. His voice was soft and gentle, a little bit strained too, Spencer thought that he might cry and burst into tears any time. “Thank you.”

“Wow. Aika, did you hear that? I’m your godmother,” Emily whispered, delight laced thickly in her voice. “We’ll team up together to prank your parents once you’re old enough.”

“Please don’t install any evil streak on my daughter!” you slapped Emily’s side gently and laughed. “If anything happens to either me or Spencer, it’s your duty to make sure that Aika is loved and her voice is out to be heard by the world.”

“And as her godfather, my first order of business is to make sure that her parents are safe and sound to watch her grow up.”

Spencer smiled, even Aika made some quiet baby noises as if she was agreeing with her godfather. Morgan made a smug comment about how he was right and Aika is agreeing with him. Relief washed Spencer like a wave crashing the shore, calm yet strong enough to knock him. Aika was born into a world filled with people who loved and will love her, and with love she shall live.

=======

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@measure-in-pain @wooya1224 @reidemandweep @manuosorioh @jswessie187 @starrfruit @averyhotchner @sebby-staan

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[soulsilvers]

BABIES!!?? TWO BABY GIRLS? BABY TIME? 🥺

yeah i FINALLY finished my designs i spent months polishing how they look omg.. its not often i think abt "and then they had 10 babies!!!" endgame scenarios but god? red and green as dads though? THAT should become real that i will allow 👀

talking under the cut!

begonia

- the older one, adopted when she was just a few months.

- very bi

- her dads take her and tawny to many vacations, allowing her to see many pokémon and the world around her in advance. in alola, she is gifted an alolan vulpix which becomes a beloved friend to her.

- she and green especially are on the same wavelength most of the time, having very similar personalities and its easy to joke around with green. green remains a very cool and youthful, not embarrassing dad in his late thirties. most of the time.

- she is cutesy and small but also pretty strong for a little girl? she cant lift reds charizard yet but she might be able to do it in a few years?? its a bit scary lol

- at school she basks in popularity and excels at many sports, but at the same time is annoyed by nearly 20 kids at once asking her to become their rival. chocolate boxes with "be my rival 🥺" written on them in the family's doorstep ensue. begonia cant be impressed very easily, she just shoves the chocolate to her dads, green just being like LOL more for us.

- that said there might be a boy in pallet town who she thinks should be her rival and makes monologues abt how theyre fated to be rivals... but the guy is just like “haha okay lol”. idk what they look like yet but i will get to that maybe

- the girls arent allowed social media just yet theyre too young. but nothings stopping 8 yr old begonia from gaining a shitton of fame on stuff like club piplup dfjghdfjk

- starts her journey w a charmander and the lazy pampered vulpix.

tawny

- she usually makes people think shes the older sister with her more responsible personality but in reality shes younger, adopted as a 3-month old when begonia is a 1-year old.

- baby butch

- tawny is rather hard to read and reserved. she wanders around in the woods taking a guitar with her and gets embarrassed when someone hears her (her taste in music is... experimental to say the least). she thinks about her dads' accomplishments a lot and all that deep stuff abt what it means to be a pkmn trainer. but red does not want his daughters to worry about having to live up to him??

- kinda emo w a bad posture when shes a preteen but does crack a smile (similar to that asymmetrical grin of green!) when shes w pkmn.

- she shares red's outdoorsy interests and goes on hikes with him, learning many important skills that way in advance. she has also learned to be nurturing and enjoys cooking great meals for the family's pkmn, something shes trying to get the more immature begonia more interested in as well, but begonia is.. well, immature.

- starts her journey w a bulbasaur and a... level 1 grubbin?? yea that ended up in her backpack when she got to visit alola and she loves it.

- ok i know if you say tawny oak quickly the name sounds like tony hawk. were just gonna have to live w that ok? ok.

as for the adults..

- baby fever hit green like a truck. pallet town has grown somewhat with new families with small children moving in. hes often picking up those overly eager little kids trying to run to forbidden areas and reciting the same words of wisdom about how their time will come bla bla, relieved when they finally stop crying and get it. arent they adorable, he thinks and spaces out. red finally asks him if he wants kids when green starts holding eevee as if it were a human baby and joking abt it and green is just like 👁👁 realizashun

- red has decided to study field research while also taking care of the babies! no problem carrying two of em while outdoors.. hopefully. he regained some fame by making a brief comeback to public at the PWT, but for now he keeps a pretty low profile again...

- AUNTIE LEAF!!! shes become very epic and awesome on her own. shes got a dynamax band, a mega stone, a z-ring and the hugest backpack, shes the ultimate protag to an almost ridiculous degree. leaf has a vlog talking about legendaries and has been interviewed a lot as well. she fears nothing... except holding the tiny fragile babies. she doesnt know how to babies? red does check on leaf so that she doesnt burn out, inviting her to hang out w the family, though leaf isnt settling down any time soon from adventuring. v likely never will. she looks forward to meeting tawny and begonia again when theyre trainers...

*exhales* thats my talking for today at least?? stuff ive established so far.. i care them so much 😤

[jedimaesteryoda]

Brienne’s Off to See the Wizard

I’m feeling a little silly right now, and in that spirit I’ll say that Brienne's journey in A Feast for Crows draws a bit of The Wizard of Oz: a girl dressed in blue travels with three dudes and a dog along a road on a quest to return a girl home. 

Brienne is Dorothy, the protagonist who dresses in blue (armor), and is given Oathkeeper which is sword studded with rubies in place of ruby slippers. At the start, she is accused of killing Renly when she was actually at the wrong place at the wrong time just like Dorothy with her house dropping on the Wicked Witch of the East. Dorothy ends up in Munchkinland of the diminutive Munchkins while Brienne travels through the riverlands which is predominantly made up of smallfolk. Dorothy was brought to Oz by a tornado while Brienne is from the stormlands. Brienne is sent on her mission to return a girl home by Catelyn, the Lady of the North in place of Glinda the Good Witch of the North. 

Professor Marvel: I see a woman. She's wearing a polka-dot dress. Her face is careworn. Dorothy: That's Auntie Em. Professor Marvel: Her name is Emily. Dorothy: That's right. What's she doing? Professor Marvel: Well I, uh, I can't quite see. Why, she's crying. Someone has hurt her. Someone has just about broken her heart. Dorothy: Me? Professor Marvel: Well, it's uh, someone she loves very much. Someone she's been very kind to. Someone she's taken care of in sickness. Dorothy: I had the measles once and she stayed right by me every minute. What's she doing now? Professor Marvel: Well, she's, uh...What's this? Well, she's, she's putting her hand on her heart. Oh, she's, she's dropping down on the bed. Dorothy: Oh, no, no, no. Professor Marvel: Uh, that's it, the crystal's gone dark. Dorothy: You don't suppose she could really be sick, do you? Oh, I've got to go home right away.

Go home, child. You have a home, which is more than many can say in these dark days. You have a noble father who must surely love you. Consider his grief if you should never return. Perhaps they will bring your sword and shield to him, after you have fallen. Perhaps he will even hang them in his hall and look on them with pride . . . but if you were to ask him, I know he would tell you that he would sooner have a living daughter than a shattered shield."

"A daughter." Brienne's eyes filled with tears. "He deserves that. A daughter who could sing to him and grace his hall and bear him grandsons. He deserves a son too, a strong and gallant son to bring honor to his name. Galladon drowned when I was four and he was eight, though, and Alysanne and Arianne died still in the cradle. I am the only child the gods let him keep. The freakish one, not fit to be a son or daughter."

- A Feast for Crows, Brienne VI

Brienne meets people along the way. Elder Brother tells her to abandon her quest, and think of her father who likely misses her while she is away from home just as Professor Marvel told Dorothy to abandon running away and go back home. She also comes across three people and a dog along her quest who end up accompanying her.

Septon Meribald is the Scarecrow. Dorothy meets him in the country where he wants a brain, yet throughout the film demonstrated himself to be intelligent and good on his feet. Meribald is from the country, and at first appears country bumpkin-esque, but actually proves himself to be intelligent with his Broken Men speech. His knowledge of the riverlands also proves to be useful to them throughout the trip.

Hyle Hunt is undoubtedly the Tin Man. Hyle Hunt’s body is covered in the metal of his armor like the Tin Man, and not having a heart appears to describe him pretty well. He calls Brienne ugly to her face when we see him first talk to her. He wants to find Sansa so he can sell her to the Lannisters. When Brother Gillum shows that a horse bit off his ear, Hyle responds by joking about it. When Brienne expresses sympathy for the children at the inn having lost their parents, Hyle’s response is to roll his eyes and mock her for her sympathy. He comes off as an insensitive prick who doesn’t seem very caring towards anyone. However, we are first introduced to him when he defends a smallfolk couple and Brienne from Tarly’s guards, and actually defends Brienne against his boss and liege, Randyll Tarly, which cost him his job. So there might be a heart to him somewhere after all.

Podrick Payne is the Cowardly Lion. Pod served lions, the Lannisters, and with a name like Payne with his distant cousin being Ser Ilyn the King’s Justice one would expect him to be more aggressive and intimidating. Yet, he is described by every POV character that meets him as timid, with Sansa noticing he blushes and stares at her feet every time she talks with him. He is clearly shy, but he rams himself into Mandon Moore just as he is about to kill Tyrion, and then pulls Tyrion to safety from the raging inferno on the Blackwater, saving his life. He later helps Brienne against the undoubtedly dangerous Bloody Mummer deserters. The boy can be shy, but deep inside is brave.

She finally comes across one figure who has gained repute in the land for his ostensible magical ability.  

“Oh, no, my dear, I... I'm a very good man - I'm just a very bad Wizard”

"The pink pretender, rather. I am Thoros, late of Myr, aye . . . a bad priest and a worse wizard."

- A Feast for Crows, Brienne VIII

Brienne eventually meets a man called the "red wizard," Thoros and just as the Wizard was just an ordinary man using smoke and mirrors, Thoros’s magic is usually just pyromancer tricks. Even he admits he isn’t really that much of a wizard or a red priest. But Thoros is a man who spent the entire war aiding the smallfolk of the riverlands, so while not much of a sorcerer, he still is at heart a good man. 

Auntie Em: You just had a bad dream.

Dorothy: But it wasn't a dream. It was a place, and you and you and you ... and you  were there . . . But you couldn't have been, could you?

Auntie Em: We dream lots of silly things when we...’

Dorothy: No, Aunt Em. This is a real, truly live place. And I remember that some of it wasn't very nice. But most of it was beautiful. But just the same, all I kept saying to everybody was, 'I want to go home.' And they sent me home.

“This is an evil dream, she thought. But if she were dreaming, why did it hurt so much?”

. . .

This time she dreamed that she was home again, at Evenfall. Through the tall arched windows of her lord father's hall she could see the sun just going down. I was safe here. I was safe.

. . .

"I saw him. In the woods."

"A fever dream, my lady."

"He said that he would hang me."

"Even dreams can lie. My lady, how long has it been since you have eaten? Surely you are famished?"

-A Feast for Crows, Brienne VIII

At the end, she wakes up from a dream, and while in the film, Dorothy is finally home, and her journey was revealed to be a dream, Brienne is far from home in the cave of the Brotherhood without Banners and she wakes up to a living nightmare. Brienne is reunited with the Lady of the North, though unlike in the film with Glinda, it is not a happy reunion, as she is accused of betrayal and her ruby studded sword given to her is used against her as opposed to helping her. 

“Bring me the broom of the Wicked Witch of the West.”

"She wants her son alive, or the men who killed him dead," said the big man. "She wants to feed the crows, like they did at the Red Wedding. Freys and Boltons, aye. We'll give her those, as many as she likes. All she asks from you is Jaime Lannister."

-A Feast for Crows, Brienne VIII

After finding the titular wizard, Dorothy in the story has to go on a side quest to complete her goal of returning home. Brienne finds the red wizard and is now told to prove her loyalty by bringing to them in place of the broom of the Wicked Witch of the West, Jaime Lannister, the twin brother and Lord Commander of Cersei’s Kingsguard sent to pacify the riverlands.

“I’ll get you my pretty, and your little dog, too!”

The queen regarded him coolly. "I had not thought you so niggardly. The king I'd thought to wed would have laid a wolfskin across my bed before the sun went down." Robert's face darkened with anger. "That would be a fine trick, without a wolf." "We have a wolf," Cersei Lannister said. Her voice was very quiet, but her green eyes shone with triumph.

-A Game of Thrones, Eddard II

As for Cersei, well, she is associated with the color green, is very vindictive and cruel, often associated with wildfire and comes from the westerlands. She also starts at the beginning of the story by having a girl's innocent dog, Lady, killed. Her subordinates are referred to as monkeys with Tyrion, her Hand, being called “a twisted little monkey demon,” Lancel, who served as her sword, is compared to “a mummer’s monkey” and she thinks of Falyse Stokeworth, whom she tried to have kill Bronn, as a “grasping monkey.” Cersei is also looking for the same young girl Brienne is, someone she blames for the death of a relative, and had imprisoned in her castle.

Just who could Cersei's parallel be?

[teiasviago]

Trying

Rated T | Alternate Universe | @today-in-fic

As I sense is becoming a theme, Jake and Amy from Brooklyn Nine-Nine are the inspiration for this MSR fic. This conversation was the catalyst; the scenes in this fic are taken heavily from B99’s “Trying” (7.06) and “Casecation” (6.12), as well as TXF’s “Per Manum” flashbacks. This fic is set in an alternate universe.

—

They’ve been trying for exactly nine months, now. Mulder knows this because Scully keeps detailed calendars marking the specifics of it all and on the fifth day of the month nine months ago, they agreed to start trying to have a baby.

He’s bouncing his leg, waiting for Scully to get back from the bathroom with the latest test result. He heard a flush a few minutes ago, so any second now... The door to their bathroom—one that has two sinks, a bath, and a shower because she insisted—opens with a creak.

Mulder watches as she stands completely still in the doorway, looking down at the stick. “It didn’t take, did it?” he inquires, but he already knows the answer.

Scully sniffles, her face starting to crumble, and he immediately makes his way over to her, bringing her into his embrace. She wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his chest as she tries to stop herself from crying.

“It feels like it’s too much to hope for, Mulder,” she says, clutching at him amidst her sea of tears.

“Hey, hey, it’s only been nine tries, honey. Sometimes—sometimes it takes a while. We knew that going in.” Mulder strokes the back of her head, pressing a kiss to the crown.

“Yeah, but... I feel like everyone else in my life has kids, and—and I—I can’t even get pregnant with one. What am I supposed to do with my life if I’m not a mother?”

“Oh, Scully, don’t say that. You’d still be my wife... You’d still be an award-winning neurosurgeon... Even if we don’t get pregnant the old-fashioned naked-pretzel way...” He trails off as she lets out a choked laugh. “...we can try IVF, or adoption. So you’re going to be a mother no matter what, Scully. It doesn’t define you as a person, either, whether or not we conceive. You’re amazing, all day every day.”

She sniffles again and leans away from Mulder, a tremulous smile on her lips. “I know. I just...really want this. I mean, I’ve spent my whole life knowing that I was going to have kids one day, and it’s just sort of hitting now that it’s been—”

“—nine months since we started trying,” he says with her. “And if it worked the first time, we would be nearly full term.”

Scully loses a battle and the tremulous little smile falls from her face as she nods and steps away to grab some tissues. “I can’t help but wonder if there’s something wrong with me, you know? Not—not physically, but... Is this some sort of punishment from God? Is he telling me that I’m not good enough to be a mother?” Another tear streaks down her cheek.

“Dana, look at me,” Mulder implores, cupping her cheeks and forcing her to look up at him. “You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re not being punished for any perceived sins, it’s just science.”

“Science,” she repeats, glancing between his eyes.

“Yes. Science. And science says that, since we’re both healthy thirty-somethings, we’re bound to get pregnant eventually.”

Scully nods and lets him enfold her in his arms again. “I don’t know if I want to keep trying,” she whispers, nuzzling her face further into his chest.

“What?”

“I can’t keep doing this, Mulder. Even if it’s not some sort of punishment and it’s just science, I...I can’t keep looking at the negative results on these tests.” She starts to cry again, muffling her sobs against Mulder’s shirt. “I just want a baby... Is that so much to ask for?”

“No... No, it’s not.”

—

One Year Ago.

“You must be the Mulders, Dana and Fox!” Mark greets, just as handsome as Ellen had described to Scully over the phone. “Welcome, welcome. Congratulations.” He leads them into the spacious living area in his and Ellen’s new house, where a handful of people are lounging. Mulder and Scully sit down on one of the couches and wave as Mark introduces them. “We heard that you’re newlyweds. Where’d you honeymoon?”

Scully, painfully aware of Mulder’s hand possessively resting on her hip, tells a little bit of their trip to his family’s beach house, the name of which she can never pronounce. She gets cut off when her godson rushes into the room and over to Mark, whispering into his step-father’s ear.

“Alright,” Mark says, before turning him around to face Mulder and Scully. “Go say hi to Dana and Fox and then ask Mommy in the kitchen.”

“Hi, Auntie Dana. Hi, Mr. Fox.” The young boy waves and bolts off to the kitchen.

“Ah, kids. Gotta love ‘em,” Mark sighs with a smile. “Are you two planning on having any of your own?”

“Uh, yeah,” Scully answers. “We’re gonna start trying soon. I’m so glad I’ve found the perfect person to make children with.”

She smiles bashfully at Mulder and a split second later, he reciprocates.

“Dinner’s ready!” Ellen calls from the kitchen, and everyone files into the dining room.

On the way there, he catches Scully by the wrist and pulls her aside. “What was that back there?” he hisses at her, leaning so close to her face that she’s sure his back is going to hurt later.

“What do you mean?” she asks, looking up at him incredulously.

“You just lied to Mark!”

“What!? No I didn’t! What the hell are you talking about?”

He tilts his head and raises his brows. “You don’t—? Scully, you told him that we’re going to try to get pregnant soon!”

“Of course I did! I told him the truth! Why are you acting like we didn’t decide this already!?”

“We didn’t!” Mulder hisses.

“What!? You don’t remember!? I showed you a picture of Matthew swimming in the Pacific on his birthday a few months ago and I said, ‘We should do this,’ and you said, ‘Definitely, I’ll set aside some money!’”

“I was talking about a trip to San Diego! You were talking about having a baby!?”

“Yes!”

“Oh my God.”

Scully groans softly and rubs her temples. “This isn’t the place. Let’s talk about this later.”

“Yeah...”

—

The drive home is tense and silent. Not a word is spoken until they shed their coats and sit down on Mulder’s transplanted leather couch. “You don’t want children,” Scully states, hands folded primly in her lap.

He sighs and rubs his hands over his face. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Well, I do. And I can’t just sit around and wait until you do know.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Scully. Am I getting in the way? Why don’t you just get up and leave if I’m of no use to you, then? God knows everyone else has.”

“Mulder—” she started, voice much softer.

“I’m sorry that I can’t give you what you want.”

“Mulder...”

“I’m sorry that I have no idea how to be a father.”

“Mulder, stop!” Scully insisted, looking distressed, and they finally made eye contact. “Is that what you’re worried about? Whether or not you’d be a good father?”

Mulder is silent for a moment before he sighs and nods. “Yeah,” he admits, averting his eyes.

“Oh, honey... You’d be a great father. I wouldn’t want to have kids with you if I thought otherwise.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Well, um... I don’t think having a baby is out of the question. I just...I don’t know if I’m ready, yet. It’s all so sudden, you know? Can we wait a few months? And then we can talk about trying. I—I need to get used to the idea of being a dad.”

“Yeah, of course.” Scully rubs his back with a small smile on her face, and it grows wider when Mulder turns his head to look at her.

“We can start looking at baby names, if you want. We’ll have to come up with something cooler than ‘Fox’, though.”

They both laugh at that, leaning into each other’s embraces.

—

Present Day.

“Scully, I think that we need to take a break from trying for a while,” Mulder says, getting situated behind her in bed. “Focus on ourselves, okay?” She nods. “Remember how we met?”

Scully smiles, entwining her fingers with his over her abdomen. “Yeah. You, the rugged child psychologist; me, the savvy pediatric neurosurgeon.”

“We argued our way through Christine’s treatment.” Mulder nuzzles the side of her face, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“That it did.”

They’re both silent for a while. “Mulder?”

“Yes?”

“I want...” Scully swallows heavily. “Can we have sex tonight? For us.”

He slides his hand lower, crowding his body against hers. “Of course.”

—

Ten Months Earlier.

His wife’s been short-tempered all day with him, only talking to him about their intersecting patient, Patrick. Mulder finally corners Scully in her office as she’s packing up.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, leaning against the door with his arms crossed.

“I’m fine,” she says sharply, and he sighs heavily.

“Are you really pulling that shit again? To me, of all people?”

Scully’s facing away from him, parsing through the filing cabinets behind her desk; she stops at his words, sliding the drawer shut before leaning her forehead against the metal storage unit. That’s when he hears her start to cry.

“Oh, Scully, honey... C’mere.” Mulder walks around her desk and wraps an arm around her, giving her a nudge to accept his embrace. She does, wrapping her arms around his neck as she starts sobbing in earnest. “Did something happen to one of your patients? What’s wrong?”

Scully shakes her head and continues to cry for a few minutes. When the tears have slowed down, she sniffs and pulls away to grab some tissues and blow her nose. “No. I mean, I’ve been handling a high-intensity patient all week, as you know, so there’s that. But I—” She has to stop and blow her nose again. She meets his gaze afterwards. “I think I might be pregnant. My period’s late—I was supposed to get it a week ago. And we agreed to wait a few months so I’m scared that if I am pregnant that you won’t be ready and that everything will go to shit and I love you too much for that and—”

Mulder cups her cheeks and runs the pads of his thumbs over her lips. “It’s okay,” he tells her, voice impossibly soft. “It’s okay.”

She sniffles. “Really?”

He smiles tremulously. “Really.” She sighs heavily and pulls him in for a long hug. “Come on, let’s go home. We can stop by a store and buy some tests. Whether or not you’re pregnant, we’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” she sighs.

—

The test comes back negative so Scully musters a smile and tosses the stick away as she walks to the kitchen. “What do you want for dinner?”

They don’t talk about it until they’re getting ready for bed and she won’t meet Mulder’s eyes.

“Scully?” he starts over the sound of her electric toothbrush.

“Hm.”

“Can I tell you something?”

She leans over and spits, turning off the toothbrush before wiping her face clean. “Of course,” Scully replies, placing the brush in its stand.

“I, uh...” Mulder fumbles, and she looks up at him. “I...I was a little bit—well, actually, a lot a bit—disappointed that the test came back negative.” He’s gazing at his wife’s flyaway baby hairs instead of her eyes.

“You were?”

“Yeah.”

Scully takes his hand and leads him to sit on the edge of the bed together. “Is it safe to assume you know that I was, too?”

He nods with a small laugh, entwining their fingers when it fades. “Do...do you want to start trying? I think I’m ready now.”

She lets out a soft gasp, her eyes filling with tears. “You mean it?”

“Yeah,” Mulder replies, voice impossibly soft. “I’m ready.” He brings his hand to her lips with a smile that lights up his eyes.

Scully lets out a tearful laugh before cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss.

—

Present Day, 5 Weeks Later.

Mulder jogs through the halls of the hospital until he finds Scully’s room number and bursts inside, breathless. “Scully, baby, what happened? You collapsed—you had a nosebleed? Are you alright?”

She nods, a smile on her face. Scully doesn’t look as sick as he’d feared, he notices, smoothing her hair back and tucking it behind her ears. “Does this have anything to do with how you’ve been feeling these past couple of weeks?” Mulder cautiously asks, sitting down in the chair behind him.

He moves it closer to her bedside as Scully’s smile turns into a grin. “I’m pregnant, Mulder.”

“Oh—my God, you are?” She nods. “You are! Oh, Scully...” He starts to cry as he gathers his wife into his arms as much as possible, and Scully does the same.

“We did it, Mulder,” she says, pressing a kiss to his head. “We did it.”

“Oh, I was so worried,” Mulder admits, sniffling as he lets her go and adjusts in the chair. “What did the doctors say?”

“Prenatal vitamins and a less strenuous workload. I have to drop my patient load from seven to five, and go from there. I’ll have to hand off a couple kids but I know just who to ask.”

“I’m glad.” Mulder clasps her hand and brings it to his lips. “I’m ready for this, Scully. Well, as ready as anyone can be.”

“Me, too, Mulder. Me, too.”

[secret-engima]

Oooh, any other details on how the lost fable goes down in the science baby Oscar verse? I imagine that Jinn would at least cover pieces of Oscar's story because even those relatively benign secrets also fall under what Ozpin is doing his best to hide (it's a very good best)

Hmmmm, not sure yet? I know it still happens post train wreck when the kids are mad at Ozpin for having trauma and very valid reasons to not share or wholeheartedly trust a bunch of teenagers keeping secrets and that Oscar tries to stop them rather than help but it’s too late and Jinn is so very thrilled to tell them about Oz’s sordid past and then just- drop the Salem Child revelation on their laps. I’m not even sure how she tells them? On one hand she’s an info-dumping spirit, she could very easily tell them all about the cloning process and how Auntie Em stole the child away. On the OTHER, that part technically isn’t “Oz’s” secret, it’s Auntie Em’s, so Jinn could just start the story after Ozpin discovered his son and just be like “a child born of secrets and magic ... and Darkness” and show Oscar taming Grimm and them assume that Ozpin Did The Thing with his murderous ex-wife.

...That last one sounds a lot like Jinn tbh.

Of course Auntie Em is more than willing to set people straight once she’s certain she doesn’t have to pick up Oscar and run.

....The angsty side of me almost wants Ozpin to grab Auntie Em and Oscar and panic teleport away, because even Qrow is mad at him now no I have not forgotten or forgiven that punch canon Qrow and he’s lived through people lashing out in anger enough times to not want to risk the teens turning on the “kid of Salem”. That could almost be fun, with Ozpin, Oscar, and Em all trying to make a new plan and figure out what to do in light of this abandonment and the teenagers + Qrow stalking around being Stupid and Angry and Woefully Betrayed until Maria points out that uh- having a child is not necessarily a willing process, especially if the mother who wanted the child is an immortal eldritch abomination who’s already discussed forcibly breeding her own kids to create a super race of humans.

Like.

The lamp lady never said that Oscar’s creation was willing on Ozpin’s end.

“Well then why did they RUN?”

“If I had to guess, it would be because you all completely disregarded their right to privacy and then got upset enough to resort to violence over what you learned. If I were a parent who was too emotionally unstable or exhausted to fight and I was surrounded by people who I thought might murder my kid because his mother is a homicidal Grimm queen, I’d book it for the hills too. People have killed children for less- having Faunus traits when their parents are both supposed to be human, for example.”

“Hey!”

“Just sayin’.”

In any case if they DID run away, then the Well incident would still happen and everybody would be feeling pretty poorly when they got to Argus, which is coincidentally where Ozpin, Em, and Oscar are hiding out while they regroup and make a new plan (and Em and Oscar try to talk Ozpin out of being a self-sacrificing idiot and going BACK to the group while Oscar and Em go hide somewhere deep in Mistral again). There’s probably an accidental encounter between the kids and Oscar, which leads to Oscar panic bolting and them chasing and eventually the realization that Oscar is genuinely in fear of his life, genuinely sure that they want to kill him, and being all self-righteous and self-pitying gets ... a bit harder when someone so much smaller than you, someone you personally know is a sweetheart and a gentle soul, looks at you like you’re the monster stalking their nightmares now.

There’s probably still a lot of yelling, surprisingly on Oscar’s part because Boundaries People, but eventually Ozpin and the others rejoin the group.

And for the Drama™, when he IS tentatively asked about how Oscar came to be, Ozpin goes really quiet and stiff and frankly he’s fully in his rights not to answer or even answer fully after what they did, and he’s still worried what they’ll think if they learn Oscar is an “unnatural” or “artificial” child.

“It was not ... consensual.” Is all Ozpin will say on the matter, and everyone looks sick to their stomachs. Except Oscar, who is still willing to smack any of them on the head with his staff if they try to punch his dad again.

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader -Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 11: Prepare For Trouble And Make It Double

In a way, it's nice to know there are Greek gods out there, because you have somebody to blame when things go wrong. For instance, when you're walking away from a bus that's just been attacked by monster hags and blown up by lightning, and it's raining on top of everything else, most people might think that's just really bad luck; when you're a half-blood, you understand that some divine force really is trying to mess up your day. Which was actually what's happening. So there we were, Annabeth, Percy, Grover and I, walking through the woods along the New Jersey riverbank, the glow of New York City making the night sky yellow behind us, and the smell of the Hudson reeking in our noses. Percy and I walked side by side with our hand still connected. Grover was shivering and braying, his big goat eyes turned slit-pupiled and full of terror. "Three Kindly Ones. All three at once. I was pretty much in shock myself. The explosion of bus windows still rang in my ears. But Annabeth kept pulling us along, saying: "Come on! The farther away we get, the better. "All our money was back there," Percy reminded her. "Our food and clothes. Everything." "Well, maybe if you hadn't decided to jump into the fight—" "What did you want me to do? Let you guys get killed? I was not going to leave Y/N." "You didn't need to protect me, Percy. I would've been fine." "Sliced like sandwich bread," Grover put in, "but fine." "Shut up, goat boy," I said. Grover brayed mournfully. "Tin cans... a perfectly good bag of tin cans." We sloshed across mushy ground, through nasty twisted trees that smelled like sour laundry. After a few minutes, Annabeth fell into line next to Percy. "Look, I..." Her voice faltered. "I appreciate your coming back for us, okay? That was really brave." "We're a team, right?" She was silent for a few more steps. "It's just that if you died... aside from the fact that it would really suck for you, it would mean the quest was over. This may be my only chance to see the real world." The thunderstorm had finally let up. The city glow faded behind us, leaving us in almost total darkness. Do you want to see?

Yeah that would be nice.

It was as if it was morning, I could see everything clearly. I wandered my head to make sure I could see everything. This is cool. "You okay?" Percy asked. "Yeah," Not really a fan of the current silence I turned to Annabeth. "You haven't left Camp Half-Blood since you were seven?" I asked her. "No... only short field trips. My dad—" "The history professor." "Yeah. It didn't work out for me living at home. I mean, Camp Half-Blood is my home." She was rushing her words out now, as if she were afraid somebody might try to stop her. "At camp you train and train. And that's all cool and everything, but the real world is where the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not." If I didn't know better, I could've sworn I heard doubt in her voice. "You're pretty good with that knife," I said. "You think so?" "Yeah maybe you can teach me some tricks. "Anybody who can piggyback-ride a Fury is okay by me." Percy smiled. I couldn't really see, but I thought she might've smiled. "You know," she said, "maybe I should tell you... Something funny back on the but..." Whatever she wanted to say was interrupted by a shrill toot-toot-toot, like the sound of an owl being tortured. "Hey, my reed pipes still work!" Grover cried. "If I could just remember a 'find path' song, we could get out of these woods!" He puffed out a few notes, but the tune still sounded suspiciously like Hilary Duff. Seeing a tree coming up I tried to pull Percy to avoid it but Percy immediately slammed into a tree and got a nice-size knot on his head. I suppressed my laugh by covering my mouth which made Percy glare at me. After tripping and cursing and generally feeling miserable for another mile or so, I started to see light up ahead: the colors of a neon sign. I could smell food. Fried, greasy, excellent food. I realized I hadn't eaten anything unhealthy since I'd arrived at Half-Blood Hill, where we lived on grapes, bread, cheese, and extra-lean-cut nymph-prepared barbecue. This kid needed a double cheeseburger. >We kept walking until I saw a deserted two-lane road through the trees. On the other side was a closed-down gas station, a tattered billboard for a 1990s movie, and one open business, which was the source of the neon light and the good smell. It wasn't a fast-food restaurant like I'd hoped. It was one of those weird roadside curio shops that sell lawn flamingos and wooden Indians and cement grizzly bears and stuff like that. The main building was a long, low warehouse, surrounded by acres of statuary. The neon sign above the gate was impossible for me to read, because if there's anything worse for my dyslexia than regular English, it's red cursive neon English. To me, it looked like: ATNYU MES GDERAN GOMEN MEPROUIM. "What the heck does that say?" I asked. "I don't know," Annabeth said. She loved reading so much, I'd forgotten she was dyslexic, too. Grover translated: "Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium." Flanking the entrance, as advertised, were two cement garden gnomes, ugly bearded little runts, smiling and waving, as if they were about to get their picture taken. I crossed the street, following the smell of the hamburgers. "Hey..." Grover warned. "The lights are on inside," Annabeth said. "Maybe it's open." "Snack bar," I said wistfully. "Snack bar," Percy agreed. "Snack bar," Annabeth joined. "Are you three crazy?" Grover said. "This place is weird." We ignored him. The front lot was a forest of statues: cement animals, cement children, even a cement satyr playing the pipes, which gave Grover the creeps. "Bla-ha-ha!" he bleated. "Looks like my Uncle Ferdinand!" We stopped at the warehouse door. "Don't knock," Grover pleaded. "I smell monsters." I turned to look at my knife. It had a light glow emitting from it. Probably because it was sheathed. "I think there's monsters." I was now reluctant and sided with Grover. "Grover's nose is clogged up from the Furies," Annabeth told him. "All I smell is burgers. Aren't you hungry?" "Meat!" he said scornfully. "I'm a vegetarian." "You eat cheese enchiladas and aluminum cans," Percy reminded him.. "Those are vegetables. Come on. Let's leave. These statues are... looking at me."

"Percy, I don't think---"

"It'll be fine." Percy took my hand and went in. Be careful and don't look. Then the door creaked open, and standing in front of us was a tall Middle Eastern woman—at least, I assumed she was Middle Eastern, because she wore a long black gown that covered everything but her hands, and her head was completely veiled. Her eyes glinted behind a curtain of black gauze, but that was about all I could make out. Her coffee-colored hands looked old, but well-manicured and elegant, so I imagined she was a grandmother who had once been a beautiful lady. >Her accent sounded vaguely Middle Eastern, too. She said, "Children, it is too late to be out all alone. Where are your parents?" "They're... um..." Annabeth started to say. "We're orphans," I said. "Orphans?" the woman said. The word sounded alien in her mouth. "But, my dears! Surely not!" "We got separated from our caravan," Percy said. "Our circus caravan. The ringmaster told us to meet him at the gas station if we got lost, but he may have forgotten, or maybe he meant a different gas station. Anyway, we're lost. Is that food I smell?" "Oh, my dears," the woman said. "You must come in, poor children. I am Aunty Em. Go straight through to the back of the warehouse, please. There is a dining area. We thanked her and went inside. Annabeth muttered to Percy, "Circus caravan?" "Always have a strategy, right?" "Your head is full of kelp." The warehouse was filled with more statues—people in all different poses, wearing all different outfits and with different expressions on their faces. I was thinking you'd have to have a pretty huge garden to fit even one of these statues, because they were all life-size. I was anxious so I tighten my grip on Percy.  It's stupid for walking into a strange lady's shop like that just because we were hungry. For a child of Athena, Annabeth sure isn't making wise decisions. I mean yeah I agree, you've never smelled Aunty Em's burgers. The aroma was like laughing gas in the dentist's chair—it made everything else go away.  But Grover's nervous whimpers, and the way the statues' eyes seemed to follow me, to add the fact that Aunty Em had locked the door behind us. Made me more cautious. Sure enough, there it was at the back of the warehouse, a fast-food counter with a grill, a soda fountain, a pretzel heater, and a nacho cheese dispenser. Everything you could want, plus a few steel picnic tables out front. "Please, sit down," Aunty Em said "Awesome," Percy said. "Um," Grover said reluctantly, "we don't have any money, ma'am." Aunty Em said, "No, no, children. No money. This is a special case, yes? It is my treat, for such nice orphans." "Thank you, ma'am," Annabeth said. Aunty Em stiffened, as if Annabeth had done something wrong, but then the old woman relaxed just as quickly, I had to turn to Annabeth to check if there was something wrong with her.. Quite all right, Annabeth," she said. "You have such beautiful gray eyes, child."  I wonder how she knew Annabeth's name, even though we had never introduced ourselves. "Percy, I want to leave..." I whispered. "Just a few bites Y/N. Don't worry." He gave me a reassuring pat. Our hostess disappeared behind the snack counter and started cooking. Before we knew it, she'd brought us plastic trays heaped with double cheeseburgers, vanilla shakes, and XXL servings of French fries. I wasn't gulfing down my food like Percy was.  Grover picked at the fries, and eyed the tray's waxed paper liner as if he might go for that, but he still looked too nervous to eat. Annabeth slurped her shake. "What's that hissing noise?" he asked. I listened, but didn't hear anything. Annabeth shook her head. "Hissing?" Aunty Em asked. "Perhaps you hear the deep-fryer oil. You have keen ears, Grover." "I take vitamins. For my ears." "That's admirable," she said. "But please, relax." I don't like it here. I'm scared. Be wary of all things. Aunty Em ate nothing. She hadn't taken off her headdress, even to cook, and now she sat forward and interlaced her fingers and watched us eat. It was a little unsettling, having someone stare at me when I couldn't see her face, and I figured the least I could do was try to make small talk with our hostess. "So, you sell gnomes," I said, trying to sound interested. "Oh, yes," Aunty Em said. "And animals. And people. Anything for the garden. Custom orders. Statuary is very popular, you know." "A lot of business on this road?" "Not so much, no. Since the highway was built... most cars, they do not go this way now. I must cherish every customer I get. My neck tingled, as if somebody else was looking at me. I turned, but it was just a statue of a young girl holding an Easter basket. The detail was incredible, much better than you see in most garden statues. But something was wrong with her face. It looked as if she were startled, or even terrified."Ah," Aunty Em said sadly. "You notice some of my creations do not turn out well. They are marred. They do not sell. The face is the hardest to get right. Always the face." "You make these statues yourself?" Percy asked. "Oh, yes. Once upon a time, I had two sisters to help me in the business, but they have passed on, and Aunty Em is alone. I have only my statues. This is why I make them, you see. They are my company." The sadness in her voice sounded so deep and so real that I couldn't help feeling sorry for her. Annabeth had stopped eating. She sat forward and said, "Two sisters?" "It's a terrible story," Aunty Em said. "Not one for children, really. You see, Annabeth, a bad woman was jealous of me, long ago, when I was young. I had a... a boyfriend, you know, and this bad woman was determined to break us apart. She caused a terrible accident. My sisters stayed by me. They shared my bad fortune as long as they could, but eventually they passed on. They faded away. I alone have survived, but at a price. Such a price." Annabeth gave me a look of worry. I knew she realized something. "Percy?" I shook him to get his attention. "Maybe we should go. I mean, the ringmaster will be waiting." Grover was eating the waxed paper off the tray now, but if Aunty Em found that strange, she didn't say anything. "Such beautiful gray eyes," Aunty Em told Annabeth again. "My, yes, it has been a long time since I've seen gray eyes like those." She reached out as if to stroke Annabeth's cheek, but Annabeth stood up abruptly. "We really should go." "Yes!" Grover swallowed his waxed paper and stood up. "The ringmaster is waiting! Right!" "Please, dears," Aunty Em pleaded. "I so rarely get to be with children. Before you go, won't you at least sit for a pose?" "A pose?" Annabeth asked warily. "A photograph. I will use it to model a new statue set. Children are so popular, you see. Everyone loves children." Annabeth shifted her weight from foot to foot. "I don't think we can, ma'am. Come on, Percy—" "Sure we can," Percy said. "It's just a photo, Annabeth. What's the harm?" "Percy, I don't want to..."  "It's just a photo guys." "Indeed it is just a photo Y/N," the woman purred. "No harm." I could tell Annabeth didn't like it as well, but she allowed Aunty Em to lead us back out the front door, into the garden of statues. Aunty Em directed us to a park bench next to the stone satyr. "Now," she said, "I'll just position you correctly. The young girls in the middle, I think, and the two young gentlemen on either side." "Not much light for a photo," I remarked. But joke's on her I could see quite clearly. Don't look. "Oh, enough," Aunty Em said. "Enough for us to see each other, yes?" "Where's your camera?" Grover asked. Aunty Em stepped back, as if to admire the shot. "Now, the face is the most difficult. Can you smile for me please, everyone? A large smile?" Grover glanced at the cement satyr next to him, and mumbled, "That sure does look like Uncle Ferdinand." "Grover," Aunty Em chastised, "look this way, dear." She still had no camera in her hands. "Percy—" Annabeth said. "I will just be a moment," Aunty Em said. "You know, I can't see you very well in this cursed veil...." "Percy, something's wrong," I insisted. "Wrong?" Aunty Em said, reaching up to undo the wrap around her head. "Not at all, dear. I have such noble company tonight. What could be wrong?" "That is Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover gasped. DON'T LOOK. Annabeth turned to my direction, "Look away from her!" she then shouted. She whipped her Yankees cap onto her head and vanished. Her invisible hands pushed Grover and and I pulled Percy with me. We were on the ground, looking at Aunt Em's sandaled feet. I could hear Grover scrambling off in one direction, Annabeth in another. "Percy, we have to move!" I shook him. But he was too dazed to move. Then I heard a strange, rasping sound above me. My eyes rose to Aunty Em's hands, which had turned gnarled and warty, with sharp bronze talons for fingernails. Percy was about to look higher then her hands and I instinctively covered his eyes. "Don't look!" More rasping—the sound of tiny snakes, right above me, from... from about where Aunty Em's head would be. "Run!" Grover bleated. I heard him racing across the gravel, yelling, "Maia!" to kick-start his flying sneakers. "Percy we have to move please!" "Such a pity to destroy a handsome young face," she said soothingly. "Stay with me, Percy. All you have to do is look up." "Percy please!" Percy pushed my hand away and looked to one side. I turned to look as well and saw one of those glass spheres people put in gardens— a gazing ball. I could see Aunty Em's dark reflection in the orange glass; her headdress was gone, revealing her face as a shimmering pale circle. Her hair was moving, writhing like serpents. Aunty Em. Aunty "M." How did Medusa die in the myth? But I couldn't think. Something told me that in the myth Medusa had been asleep when she was attacked by my namesake, Perseus. She wasn't anywhere near asleep now. If she wanted, she could take those talons right now and rake open my face. "The Gray-Eyed One did this to me," Medusa said, and she didn't sound anything like a monster. Her voice invited me to look up, to sympathize with a poor old grandmother. "Annabeth's mother, the cursed Athena, turned me from a beautiful woman into this." "Don't listen to her!" Annabeth's voice shouted, somewhere in the statuary. "Y/N carry Percy!" "Silence!" Medusa snarled. Then her voice modulated back to a comforting purr. "You see why I must destroy the girl, Percy. She is my enemy's daughter. I shall crush her statue to dust. But you, dear Percy, you need not suffer. We won't even hurt, Y/N." I swung Percy's arm around my shoulder. But he was too heavy.  "No," he muttered trying to make his legs move... "Do you really want to help the gods?" Medusa asked. "Do you understand what awaits you on this foolish quest? What will happen if you reach the Underworld? Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. You would be better off as a statue. Less pain. Less pain." "Y/N!" Behind me, I heard a buzzing sound, like a two-hundred-pound hummingbird in a nosedive. Grover yelled, "Duck!" I turned, and there he was in the night sky, flying in from twelve o'clock with his winged shoes fluttering, Grover, holding a tree branch the size of a baseball bat. His eyes were shut tight, his head twitched from side to side. He was navigating by ears and nose alone. "Duck!" he yelled again. "I'll get her!" I tackled Percy to the other side. Thwack! Then Medusa roared with rage. "You miserable satyr," she snarled. "I'll add you to my collection!" "That was for Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover yelled back. Pulling along an out of a dazed Percy we scrambled away and hid in the statuary while Grover swooped down for another pass. Ker-whack! "Arrgh!" Medusa yelled, her snake-hair hissing and spitting. Right next to me, Annabeth's voice said, "Y/N! Percy!" Percy jumped so high his feet nearly cleared a garden gnome. "Jeez! Don't do that!" Annabeth took off her Yankees cap and became visible. 'You have to cut her head off." "What? Are you crazy? Let's get out of here." "Medusa is a menace. She's evil. I'd kill her myself, but..." Annabeth swallowed, as if she were about to make a difficult admission. "But you've got the better weapon. Besides, I'd never get close to her. She'd slice me to bits because of my mother. You—you've got a chance." "What? I can't—" "Look, do you want her turning more innocent people into statues?" She pointed to a pair of statue lovers, a man and a woman with their arms around each other, turned to stone by the monster. Annabeth grabbed a green gazing ball from a nearby pedestal. "A polished shield would be better." She studied the sphere critically. "The convexity will cause some distortion. The reflection's size should be off by a factor of—" "Would you speak English?" "I am!" She tossed him the glass ball. "Just look at her in the glass. Never look at her directly." "Hey, guys!" Grover yelled somewhere above us. "I think she's unconscious!" "Roooaaarrr!" "Maybe not," Grover corrected. He went in for another pass with the tree branch. "Hurry," Annabeth told him. "Grover's got a great nose, but he'll eventually crash." Percy took out his pen and uncapped it. The bronze blade of Riptide showed. He turned to me and gave the glass then offered a hand. "Percy you can't be seriously bring her along!?" "I'll go with him." Taking his hand, we followed the hissing and spitting sounds of Medusa's hair. I raised the glass so I could guide us. I kept my eyes locked on the gazing ball so I would only glimpse Medusa's reflection, not the real thing. Then, in the green tinted glass, I saw her. Grover was coming in for another turn at bat, but this time he flew a little too low. Medusa grabbed the stick and pulled him off course. He tumbled through the air and crashed into the arms of a stone grizzly bear with a painful "Ummphh!" Medusa was about to lunge at him when I yelled, "Hey!" We advanced on her. I had let go of Percy's hand to bring out my knife. So if she charged, I could help Percy. But she let us approach—twenty feet, ten feet. I could see the reflection of her face now. Surely it wasn't really that ugly. The green swirls of the gazing ball must be distorting it, making it look worse. "You wouldn't harm an old woman, Percy," she crooned. "I know you wouldn't." I could tell he hesitated. From the cement grizzly, Grover moaned, "Percy, don't listen to her!" Medusa cackled. "Too late." She lunged at him with her talons. I ran and raised my knife to block her talons, Percy then swung his sword, then we heard a sickening shlock!, then a hiss like wind rushing out of a cavern—the sound of a monster disintegrating. Something fell to the ground next to my foot. It took all my willpower not to look. I could feel warm ooze soaking into my sock, little dying snake heads tugging at my shoelaces. "Oh, yuck," Percy said. His eyes were still tightly closed, but I guess he could hear the thing gurgling and steaming. "Mega-yuck." Annabeth came up next to us, her eyes fixed on the sky. She was holding Medusa's black veil. She said, "Don't move." >Very, very carefully, without looking down, she knelt and draped the monster's head in black cloth, then picked it up. It was still dripping green juice. "Are you okay?" Percy asked me, his voice trembling. "Yeah," I decided. "Why didn't... why didn't the head evaporate?" "Once you sever it, it becomes a spoil of war," she said. "Same as your minotaur horn. But don't unwrap the head. It can still petrify you." Grover moaned as he climbed down from the grizzly statue. He had a big welt on his forehead. His green rasta cap hung from one of his little goat horns, and his fake feet had been knocked off his hooves. The magic sneakers were flying aimlessly around his head. "The Red Baron," Percy said. "Good job, man." He managed a bashful grin. "That really was not fun, though. Well, the hitting-her-with-a-stick part, that was fun. But crashing into a concrete bear? Not fun." He snatched his shoes out of the air. "I didn't know Grover got Luke's shoes."  Percy recapped his sword. "I can't fly." He shrugged.  Together, the four of us stumbled back to the warehouse We found some old plastic grocery bags behind the snack counter and double-wrapped Medusa's head. We plopped it on the table where we'd eaten dinner and sat around it, too exhausted to speak. Finally Percy said, "So we have Athena to thank for this monster?" Annabeth flashed me an irritated look. "Your dad, actually. Don't you remember? Medusa was Poseidon's girlfriend. They decided to meet in my mother's temple. That's why Athena turned her into a monster. Medusa and her two sisters who had helped her get into the temple, they became the three gorgons. That's why Medusa wanted to slice me up, but she wanted to preserve you as a nice statue. She's still sweet on your dad. You probably reminded her of him." "Oh, so now it's my fault we met Medusa." Annabeth straightened. In a bad imitation of my voice, she said: "'It's just a photo, Annabeth. What's the harm?'" "Forget it," I said. "You're impossible." "You're insufferable." "You're—" "You're both loud and stupid." I growled. "Yeah!" Grover interrupted. "You two are giving me a migraine, and satyrs don't even get migraines. What are we going to do with the head?" I stared at the thing. One little snake was hanging out of a hole in the plastic. The words printed on the side of the bag said: WE APPRECIATE YOUR BUSINESS! I was angry, not just with Annabeth or her mom, but with all the gods for this whole quest, for getting us blown off the road and in two major fights the very first day out from camp. At this rate, we'd never make it to L.A. alive, much less before the summer solstice. What had Medusa said? Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. You would be better off as a statue. Percy and I shared a look. We got up. "I'll be back." "Percy, Y/N," Annabeth called after me. "What are you—" We searched the back of the warehouse until I found Medusa's office. Her account book showed her six most recent sales, all shipments to the Underworld to decorate Hades and Persephone's garden. According to one freight bill, the Underworld's billing address was DOA Recording Studios, West Hollywood, California. I folded up the bill and stuffed it in my pocket. In the cash register I found twenty dollars, a few golden drachmas, and some packing slips for Hermes Overnight Express, each with a little leather bag attached for coins.  "Found one." Percy called. We went back to the picnic table, packed up Medusa's head, and filled out a delivery slip: The Gods >Mount Olympus 600th Floor, >Empire State Building New York, NY With best wishes, PERCY JACKSON <3 Y/N L/N "They're not going to like that," Grover warned. "They'll think you're impertinent." I poured some golden drachmas in the pouch. As soon as I closed it, there was a sound like a cash register. The package floated off the table and disappeared with a pop! "I am impertinent," Percy said. I looked at Annabeth, daring her to criticize. She didn't. She seemed resigned to the fact that we had a major talent for ticking off the gods. "Great, well Fred and George," she muttered. "We need a new plan."

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UwU bb I'm just licherali rippin off now srry -kookie-doughs

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000

[marmolady]

New Horizons

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC, Graleister

Summary: Endless Ending. Liv and Reggie are starting school in San Trobida. Notes at the end!

Word Count: 9695

Chronology: After 'Growing Pains', before 'How the time escapes me...'

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove @mauvecatfic​

Thanks for reading!

San Trobida, July 2035

“Hey, Auntie Grace!”

Reggie looked up from his book at the sound of his cousin’s voice, and hastily placed aside his shiny new copy of ‘A Guide to San Trobidan History’ so he could rush out into the hallway.

Grace was already wrapping Liv in a hug. “Hello, sweetheart.” She kissed the side of her niece’s head, before her eyes wandered down to a bloodied knee. “Did you have a mishap on your bike on the way here?”

“Yeah… I clipped the kerb and crashed,” Liv said, offering her aunt a better view of her wound. As she heard Reggie’s footsteps, she looked up to meet his eye and smiled.

“Youch!” Reggie offered sympathetically as he came close enough to peer over Liv’s grazed knee.

Liv shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

Grace, though, was more concerned. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell?”

“No, just scraped my knee. It does actually sting a bit.”

“Hmm. Well, I think we’d better put some anti-septic that knee just to be safe.”

The new house was a mess. Boxes and misplaced furniture filled every room, and the twins-- six years old-- had been making forts with the packing boxes that had been emptied so far. The family had been in the house for just over a day, and some good progress had already been made. There had been a lot that had been left behind. Neither Aleister nor Grace put too much value on material possessions, so most of what had come with them and the children to their new home in San Trobida had been essential furniture, and the mountains of photo albums and memorabilia from a life with the kids.

Grace sat Liv down on a wooden ottoman, and, after a little bit of rummaging, found the first aid kit.

“Okay, this might hurt just a little,” she said gently, and she carefully dabbed Liv’s graze.

Liv yelped, “Fuck!”, causing Reggie to gasp, looking to his mother for a reaction, and Erin and Immy to burst out giggling from inside their box-fort.

Grace raised an eyebrow, but her warm smile didn’t shift. “It stings that much?”

“Yeah…,” Liv said, flushing a little. “Sorry about the language.”

“I’m sure I didn’t hear a thing.”

There was the usual bustling around as Aleister got the girls into their shoes; Immy and Erin had decided that swapping one shoe with one another was the peak of humour, but eventually, their father managed to get them each into a left and a right-- even if they didn’t match. Six-and-a-half-year-old sisters, Reggie had come to realise, made just about everything more of a headache than necessary.

Eventually, though, they were on their way. His mom and dad, walking beside the twins as they pootled along on their bicycles, had the address, but Reggie rode ahead with Liv, taking her lead as she zig-zagged through the streets of Valle Brava. Having only set foot on San Trobidan soil as a new resident some twenty-four hours ago, everything aspect of his environment set his senses alight. This wasn’t like being back in America. Perhaps it was the tropical climate, but he was reminded much more of La Huerta-- of home. Liv certainly seemed right at home here. She and her mothers had settled a few weeks before, and Liv had been coming here pretty much all her life. There were just a few blocks between their respective houses, and the wide cycle paths along the bitumen roads made for an easy journey. This, Reggie had been told, was a newly developed area; much had been re-built since the war he knew his Tia Estela had been involved in. The cycle paths ended as they came nearer to Liv’s place, a little way out of the main township. The foliage on either side of the road became thicker, and there was less street noise, more birdsong.

“Beat you!” Liv announced as she planted her feet into the ground, forcing her bicycle to a stop.

Reggie grumbled, pulling up beside his cousin in front of a humble bungalow-style house with outer walls a vibrant azure blue against yellow accents. The sound of a dog barking-- unmistakably Liv’s Robin, was further confirmation they’d arrived. “You didn’t beat me, Livia. I was following you. I didn’t even know where we were going.”

“Jeez, dude. No one likes a sore loser….”

“I am not a--!”

The door swung open.

“Reggie!” Taylor wasted no time in sweeping her nephew into a hug. “It’s so good to see you! I can’t believe you still have the energy for cycling over here-- didn’t you move house, like, yesterday?”

Reggie laughed. “Hi, Auntie Taylor!” There was something about seeing a familiar face in this new environment that made the pieces seem to click into place. Family made it home. “I’m a little bit tired but mostly just excited. I did sleep in today, so I guess I won’t crash until later.” His sisters on the other hand… there was no way they’d last the evening without overtiredness rearing its ugly head.

“I’m guessing your mom and dad are on their way with the girls?”

“Yeah,” said Liv, “but they’re pretty slow. I don’t have to wait to give Reggie the grand tour, do I?”

“Knock yourself out, kid. Hang on, Liv? Walk your bike through the house, please.”

“I was gonna!”

Reggie could only smirk. Like hell you were….

“Aaaand,” Liv finished off with a flourish, “this is my room!” She opened the door to a good-sized bedroom. It seemed to Reggie that what floor-space wasn’t taken up by the bed was piled up with boxes.

“I mean, I can’t say the mess wasn’t a clue.”

Liv gave her cousin a look as she flopped into her bed. “Hey-- moving house is hard. You’ll see soon enough. You get started all excited, but once you start living your life, you kinda get… stuck. Mama Taylor says we’re going to just blitz it all next weekend, and throw ourselves a pizza party as a reward.”

Reggie got up onto the bed and crossed his legs. “Do you like it here?”

“I love it here! I always liked coming here when I was little, so I guess it doesn’t feel like something completely different. I reckon my tio abuelo is over the moon that we’re here for good; it’s like I’ve got a grandparent now.” Liv’s cheeks flushed pink, and she glanced away.

Understanding, Reggie nodded. Together, they’d grown up in a family that didn’t take the traditional shape. There were some things that simply couldn’t be explained to other friends; like why Reggie’s grandma could help him with his homework, but could never come in for grandparents’ day, and why Liv had a whole side of the family with no grandparents at all-- not even dead ones.

“And,” Liv continued, “people don’t really look at my Mama Estela funny. I noticed that years ago. I guess ‘cause of the war, people don’t look twice at someone who’s maybe a little bit banged-up. I got so sick of it back in America. Every time we met someone new, they’d put on that ‘God, what happened?’ face. Maybe Mom doesn’t want to explain the whole ‘revolutionary in a civil war’ thing to every random person who can’t mind their own business. Some people have scars-- big freaking deal. It’s better here.”

“Yeah, that would be a nice change. The amount of times I’ve seen you and Auntie Taylor look at a nosy idiot like you want to deck ‘em--”

Liv burst out laughing. “True, that.”

The sound of excited barking rang out from the backyard. It seemed pretty likely to Reggie that his parents and sisters had just arrived. When he and Liv arrived in the backyard, Erin had already joined Estela at the barbecue, desperate to be involved, while Immy was passionately talking to Nicolas about goodness-knows-what. Reggie made a mental note to rescue him in a few minutes; that kid could be intense, and the poor old guy had come out here for a relaxing lunch with his niece.

Nicely, but firmly, Reggie nudged the wriggling, writhing form of Robin the dog to the side so he could join his mother and Auntie Taylor at the large alfresco table under the porch. And Robin returned to his favoured position at the feet of the barbecue-- Erin was just a kid, surely, she’d drop something….

“Do you need a hand with the salads?” Reggie asked as he greeted his mother with a hug. He’d been seeking a lot of those. With so much changing, familial comfort meant a lot, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

Perhaps more than anything, though, he was grateful to have Liv by his side. It was the way it had always been; from their toddler days on La Huerta, through elementary school, to their adventures in home-schooling. Some things might change-- some things might change immeasurably-- but he always had his cousin.

___________________________

La Huerta, 2028

Liv yelled out as she splashed down into the shallow surf. “Reggie!”

“I got her, Xiraana!” Reggie cried, and soon he was joined by a young Vaanti girl, who helped restrain their victim.

“No, no!” Liv squealed as she struggled. Vaanti kids, she’d long ago realised, were strong. “You’ll never take me alive!”

“Five-- four--- three….” Xiraana counted down, not letting Liv out of her grasp.

“Two-- one!” Reggie finished triumphantly, and he let his cousin fall unceremoniously back into the water. “The klaawyi ate all the meat off your bones. You’re one of us now!”

Liv pouted, but admitted defeat. It wasn’t the worst thing that could happen; she was pretty good on Team Klaawyi anyway. Or, she would have been… had she not seen the figure of her favourite uncle descending onto the beach from the great tree of Elyys’tel.

“Tio Diegoooooo! Hiiiii!” Liv ran across the sand, almost tripping in her desperation to reach him.

“Hey, Livia!” Reggie cried out, indignant at being suddenly abandoned. “You’re meant to help us catch them!”

But Diego had crouched down to wrap Liv in a hug, and Reggie might as well be talking to a pile of rocks for all that was being absorbed.

“Tio, they got me! Reggie and Xiraana got me, and now I’m a klaawyi!”

“You?” Diego laughed. “You’re no klaawyi-- I’ve never seen a klaawyi that was ticklish!”

“Wha--?” Oh no. Once again, Liv was shrieking with mirth, this time dodging the tickling hands of her tio.

Still standing in the shallows, Reggie stomped his foot, which achieved little but splashing himself in the face. The game went on without them; games of Klaawyi Chase didn’t stop for anyone. The usual fun on the beaches outside Elyys’tel would go on like this every day… whether Reggie and Liv were there to join in or not. And Reggie didn’t want to miss out now.

“Come on, Livia!”

She just shook her head, not letting her adoring gaze up at Diego slip for so much as a heartbeat. “Nah,” she said. “I’m done.”

Torn, knowing that whichever direction he ran in, he’d lose out on precious time with friends, Reggie admitted defeat and rushed back to Liv’s side on the shore. He looked back over his shoulder and waved goodbye-- for what he’d been told would likely be a long, long time. Engrossed in their game, his friends gave just the most fleeting of farewells before continuing to race through the small waves that lapped the beach.

Liv, in contrast, had eyes only for her tio. She clasped his hand tightly; if she held on tight enough, perhaps he’d have no choice but to come with her to wherever her mothers were taking her in the big aeroplane.

Where exactly she was going, Liv didn’t quite understand. It was away from La Huerta, but they weren’t going back to live with Tio Nicolas, they were going… someplace else. Someplace with no Tio Diego and Varyyn, where all the other kids would be boring shades of pink and brown rather than blue and green, and where no one knew about the yeti-bear, or the magic crystal alien that made her mom, or about The Story of the Year the World Stopped.

“I want you to come, Tio Diego…,” Liv softly beseeched.

Diego’s eyes grew misty, her earnest words having tipped him over the edge after what had been a long period of emotional build-up. Goodbyes were never easy, and Liv’s family was his family. He squeezed her little hand gently.

“I’ll visit you, Livi-- I promise. Cross my heart. And your mommies will bring you over to visit us here too; you are going to learn so many new games at school that you can teach Xiraana and the other kids.”

“But I’ll miss you…”

Having rejoined Liv, Reggie peered up at Diego’s teary face with concern. “Diego, you’re making your glasses all foggy.”

“Ha. I know, I know!” Diego wiped his eyes. “You might have a point there, Reggie; I want to spend this last night with you guys actually being able to see you!”

Liv giggled and wrapped her arms around her uncle’s legs, only to be peeled off and hoisted into the air. “We can still have fun until bedtime, can’t we? Will you tell us a story?”

On the ground, Reggie danced around, his arms waving. Diego-time was the best story-time.

In the arms of her tio, her playmate since she was a baby bouncing on his knee, Liv was a mess of emotions; of fear and excitement, of merriment that competed with the looming sorrow. It was more than her little self had a clue what to do with. She was only five.

Sensing his cousin’s turmoil, Reggie reached up a hand and took hold of Liv’s, hanging down by Diego’s side. “Don’t worry, Livia! If you worry, you won’t enjoy story-time.”

Liv stuck out her bottom lip. That little nerd-face could be pretty smart sometimes. Tomorrow night, there would be no goodnight story from Tio Diego, but tomorrow night was not now-- now, everything was as it should be. Her wavering grin returned, and to her delight, it brought matching smiles to the faces of her companions.

“Do you think Varyyn, and my mommies, and Auntie Grace and Uncle Alli, and Auntie Grace’s tummy babies want to listen to the story too?”

“Yeah,” Diego said, letting Liv back down to the ground, where she immediately found another hug in Reggie’s arms, “I think everyone would really like that.”

_____________________________

San Trobida, August 2035

“I don’t get it,” Liv said thoughtfully, as the car rolled right on past the turn for her Auntie Grace and Uncle Al’s place. “It’s right on the way; wouldn’t it have been easier for us to pick up Reggie?”

“Hon,” Taylor replied, “I think Reggie wanted his mom and dad to take him to orientation. They’ll probably be better at helping with his jitters than we would be.”

“I guess.” Liv looked out the window, watching the surrounding vegetation thicken once more as the car followed the road up out of the valley. “Orientation Day shouldn’t be too bad, right? Just, like, meeting our teachers, learning where stuff is, that kinda thing?” And you’ll have to try and make friends. That would be a laugh.

By the time they pulled up at the Las Selvas Secondary School, however, Liv fully understood her cousin’s nerves, and realised that was probably why she’d been so disappointed that he didn’t share a car with her. Through every big change in their young lives, his presence had been a reassuring constant.

“Uggghh,” she groaned. “Can I change my mind? Home-schooling was all right; more of that, please.”

Estela leaned from the front seat and gave Liv’s knee a squeeze. “You know, I don’t think he’d ever say it, but I’m pretty sure Reggie would be really scared if he had to walk into this without you. Besides, you were so excited about starting here; you owe it to yourself to at least giving it a shot.”

Again, Liv groaned, this time even louder. “It’s so annoying when you’re right.”

“Story of my life,” Taylor laughed, while Estela smirked.

When they pulled up at the school, Reggie was already waiting, standing beside the car-park while his parents fussed over him.

“You have your phone?” Grace quizzed, checking for the fourth time since they’d set off.

“I told you, yes!” Reggie replied, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket to wave around for good measure. “I’ll send you a message when I’m ready to be picked up, I promise.”

“In that case, you just have a wonderful time, darling.” She wrapped him in a hug-- already Reggie was easily as tall as her. “Go well, and have fun.”

Liv rushed over, all smiles. Her own nerves were a whole lot less bothersome when she had the distraction of friendly faces.

There were a few more rounds of hugs exchanged-- and then, suddenly, Liv and Reggie were on their own.

“You wanna head over? Looks like people are already crowding around-- it’s probably gonna start soon.”

Reggie’s expression brightened, as if he’d been just waiting for a little push for his confidence to surge back forth. “Well, it will hardly be an auspicious start here if we miss the principal’s address. Get a move on, Livia!”

The morning passed relatively quickly. Liv placed herself next to Reggie at all times-- they’d been put in the same Grade Seven home room as requested, making him one of the eldest in the class, and her one of the youngest. The whole set-up wasn’t entirely different to the school they were accustomed to, other than the bilingual approach. They were given a small pile of boring paperwork, and outlines of what to expect in their new classes; as English was their first language, they’d be taking ‘Spanish as a Second Language’, and Liv was also excited about ‘Nature Studies’, a subject she’d never been offered in America.

As far as Liv was concerned, the most traumatic part of the session was being expected to stand up in front of a room of strangers and give a short spiel about themselves. The perfect opportunity to officially balls-up any chance they might have of making new friends, or at least that was how she saw it. She mumbled down into her chest; something about enjoying hiking and gymnastics, something about liking Batman, and animals, and then she hurriedly sat right back down with flaming cheeks. Reggie, she observed, handled the brief foray into public speaking with rather more poise. Even though he was shy-- perhaps even more than she was-- he seemed able to go into ‘school presentation’ mode, and breeze through. When he sat back down, though, his hands were shaking-- but that was for the eyes of his trusted friend only.

When the lunch break came along, Liv was ravenous; a new and challenging social situation could do that to a person. While Reggie sloped off to the bathrooms, she tested out the school canteen, emerging a little while later with a hot empanada. It wasn’t quite as good as her Mama Estela’s, but it was definitely a step up from what was on offer at her old school. Maybe she could get used to this place….

Liv watched this new world go by all around her as she ate, cross-legged beneath the tree she’d told her cousin to meet her by. Kids moved in their little circles, talking loudly, laughing. Most of them coming into Grade Seven had come from the local primary school, and many knew each-other. Liv and Reggie would be starting out on the outside… and that was daunting. She could not be more grateful that she wasn’t taking this on alone.

Or… at least, she shouldn’t be. The lunchtime queue moved on, the gaggles of kids spread out, and still Reggie hadn’t returned.

Damn, constipated on your first day. Sucks to be you, Reggie.

Tentatively, Liv approached the boys’ bathroom and, having ascertained that no one was watching, slipped in. Her footsteps were unheard, drowned out by the loud, frantic breathing of young Reggie, slumped over the sink. Alarmed, Liv rushed over. Tears were spilling down his cheeks.

“Reggie… it’s okay,” she said gently. A little unsure, she reached out a hand to rub his back, and to her surprise, he didn’t flinch away. Slowly, he seemed to regain control of himself.

“Liv…,” Reggie panted. “You know you’re not meant to be in here; this is the guys’ room.”

“Hey! Like it’s my fault you didn’t take your anxiety attack into the unisex bathroom. That’s on you.” Hmph. Ungrateful, much?

Reggie scowled, and dragged his cousin out of the toilet block by her arm. He slumped down by the wall, and scooched over to encourage her to join him.

“You’re a pain in the arse.” He was still shaking.

“It’s been said, yeah.” Liv huddled a little closer. “You don’t need to worry, okay? You’re not going to have any trouble making friends. Did you see they’ve got a chess club, and a photography club as well? At least that’ll get you talking to people.”

“That’s,” Reggie said quietly, “not exactly what I’m worried about.” When Liv looked at him expectantly, he continued. “When I was in a room with all those kids, my head just went back to being at our old school… and what happened. I know this place is meant to be progressive and all that, but that doesn’t mean that everyone’s okay. What if I think I’ve made friends with someone, and they find out about Erin, and they make it a big thing, and then some arsehole finds out….”

“Man, you’re really spiraling,” Liv observed, not especially helpfully. She wasn’t exactly surprised by what was troubling her cousin; getting into a fight in defense of his young transgender sister had completely unseated Reggie from the comfortable life he’d had at the last school. It had changed everything.

“You would too, if she was your sister!”

“Probably. But I think you should at least give people a go. It sounds like they’re really strict on any kind of bullying against minorities. Swinging back hard in the opposite direction after that fascist dictatorship.”

“Those are some awfully big words for you to be throwing around there, Livia; watch you don’t hurt yourself….”

“Hey! I know my stuff!” Liv demanded. “Do you think my tio abuelo would have it any other way? But anyway, I’m right. All the people who didn’t fit in before have come to this part of the country. Probably a lot of the kids have parents who saw really horrible things in the war; they wouldn’t want to send them somewhere that was bad like before. My Mama ‘Stel gave the principal the grilling of her life, and I bet she hasn’t been the only one. People are gonna want to make sure their kids are being looked after.”

A smile quirked on Reggie’s face as he imagined his aunt on a school tour. “I bet Tia Estela left Principal Sanchez quivering under the desk.”

“Yeah… after what happened in the last school, there’s no way they’d let us go anywhere unless they were sure it was a place that treated people right.”

Reggie knew that much. But his parents, and even his fierce aunt, could not shield himself, his sisters and his cousin, from everything. He contemplated silently, grateful for the patient companionship.

“I guess,” he said at last, “if no one gave anyone else a chance to be anything but the worst, then we’d be pretty lonely.”

“Yup. We should at least give it a shot. And if it all goes in the crapper, I’ll sic my moms on the fools that mess with us. And the freaking yeti.”

Reggie couldn’t help but roll his eyes. That had always been Liv’s answer to everything. “Livia, I hate to break it to you, but if you go around threatening people with yetis, everyone’s gonna think you’ve got a screw loose. Except me; I know you’ve got a screw loose.”

“So damn rude,” Liv growled. “Anyway, you really should eat something. It probably won’t help you feeling crap and light-headed if you’ve got an empty stomach. They’ve got arepas!”

“...I could eat an arepa,” Reggie admitted. There was only so much a young boy of thirteen could control; he couldn’t wave a magic wand and guarantee that his little sister would never be hurt by cruel, ignorant words, but he could look after himself, so that he was the best him he could be-- and the best brother.

_____________________________

USA, 2028

“You did a great job, sweetheart,” Taylor said kindly as Reggie delicately placed his knife and fork atop his small plastic plate, signaling that he’d finished. Immediately afterwards, the little boy’s small hand had dropped to his side to get a reassuring touch of his teddy’s scruffy fur. “It was nice of Big Bear to join us for dinner. Does he like lasagna as much as you do?”

Reggie yawned widely as he nodded to his aunt. He hadn’t known it was possible for a kid to be so full of yawns, but living with newborn twins had shown him just how big a tired feeling could be. “Big Bear likes to watch from the floor.”

“That’s nice of him to let you have the whole plate for yourself. We’re gonna have plenty to bring over to your mommy and daddy for them to eat tomorrow.”

Lasagna had been Reggie’s choice. This whole sleepover was to be all about him; giving him a welcome break from the stresses of being a new big brother to two babies at once. He’d been on many, many sleepovers at Tia Estela and Auntie Taylor’s place before, but this time felt different. Reggie knew that at home, his parents were busy with their other children… and in his sensitive state, it took no time at all for him to miss them.

Twins, Reggie had come to realise, were very hard work. They cried a lot… and his mommy cried a lot, and his daddy cried a lot, and he cried a lot. All crying and no sleeping was not a whole lot of fun. Reggie wanted so badly to get away from the babies, but at the same time he longed to be with his parents. However much fun it was to take a break at his aunts’ place, the worry in him just wouldn’t go away.

Side-by-side, he and Liv changed into their pyjamas. Five-year-old Liv, true to form, nattered away to him the whole time. Babies, of course, were the subject of choice.

“My moms say we’re probably not gonna get another baby. Maybe ‘cos you have two I can borrow one if I get lonely. Do you have one that you like best?”

Reggie shrugged.

“Maybe next time your mom and dad will have three. You could have all these babies like a baby army, and if someone’s ever mean to you, you will have like a hundred poopy diapers you can throw at them. No one likes poop.”

“I don’t want lots more babies,” Reggie said softly. I want no more.

“If you don’t like babies, you can come and live with us forever!” Liv suggested brightly, oblivious the the wobble of her cousin’s bottom lip.

When Estela popped her head around the corner to check on the kids, Reggie was in tears and Liv looked totally bewildered.

“Mommy, Reggie’s crying…,” she pointed out, rather unnecessarily, for her mother had already scooped the little boy into a cuddle.

“It’s okay, mijo,” Estela soothed as she gently rocked her nephew in her arms. “It’s okay to cry. This has been really hard. You know what? You have been such a good boy for Mommy and Daddy.”

Liv, not quite sure what to do, but nothing if not well-meaning, draped herself over Reggie and patted him on the back. “There, there. It’s okay.”

Estela took Reggie into the lounge room for some cheer-up time, and Liv took Big Bear. Taylor quickly joined them, and pulled Reggie into her lap for a cuddle.

“Are you feeling a bit sad, sweetpea?”

Reggie nodded. “Uh-huh. I liked it better how things were before. Everything’s different.”

Taylor gently rubbed the little boy’s arms. “Change can be really tough. It’s like you’ve got to figure out how life works all over again!”

“Yeah, it’s not nice.”

“So, it’s okay to have a good cry. We will give you as many hugs and cuddles as you need.”

“Reggie,” Liv piped up, “do you wanna play a game? That could make you feel happy?”

Reggie sniffed and nodded again. Pleased-- she had this cheering-up business down-- Liv plonked herself in Estela’s lap and leaned forward to her cousin.

“Do you wanna play… ‘Klaawyi Chase’?”

Estela intervened quickly. “Maybe something with a little less running around. It’s nearly bedtime, Livi.”

“Okay. Ummmm…. ‘Duck, Duck, Goose’?”

“Livita.”

Well, you’re no fun. Liv gave a soft huff and pondered. By her best guess, ‘Hide and Seek’ would be a ‘no’ too… especially as last time she’d hid, no one managed to find her for a full hour.

“How about,” Taylor suggested, “we have a game of ‘Fortunately-Unfortunately’?”

“I wanna play that one!” Reggie said enthusiastically. “Can I start? Fortunately, we all had ice cream for dessert.”

Liv bounced in her mother’s lap. “Unfortunately, the ice cream was smelly-feet flavour!”

“Livi!” Taylor exclaimed, rolling her eyes. Why was everything smelly-feet with that kid? “Okay, then-- fortunately, Robin Dog likes smelly-feet, so he ate all the ice cream for us.”

“Oh!” Liv cried. “I’ve got a really good one!” Hehe, Robin with smelly-feet farts….

“Unfortunately,” said Estela. “It was Mama Estela’s turn, and Miss Livita just had to wait.”

Liv turned and poked her tongue out at her mom, making Reggie giggle. He snuggled in against his Auntie Taylor’s chest, his mind far away from worries about his new role as big brother to a pair of very needy twins.

“Fortunately,” he said, smiling, “Furball was visiting, and he made us some new ice cream with no yucky flavours in it.”

“Unfortunately….”

_________________________

San Trobida, September 2035

It was the last weekend before school started, and a lazy warm day at the Montoya house. Estela was up a tree, hammering boards into what would soon be a playhouse for the kids. She’d already finished up a two-storey-high climbing wall on the other side of the yard, which, at Liv’s request, would eventually be connected to the new tree-house by a zipline. Then, there’d be a slide, and monkey bars, and a tyre swing, and a fire pole. Basically, Estela had made it her mission to put together the best backyard playground on the Costa Libertad. Taylor, meanwhile, had been busying herself with a vegetable garden, with the help of a fascinated Erin and her parents, who turned out to be quite clever when it came to soil chemistry.

Liv had been up and down her new climbing wall like a yo-yo, leaving her dog, Robin, running rings around the base and all but tripping Reggie up as he tentatively took his first steps towards ascending.

“Are you coming?”

“I’m trying! Your dog’s getting in the way.”

Eventually, Reggie managed to clamber his way up, with a little help from Liv who hauled him over the top.

“See; piece of cake.”

Reggie couldn’t quite agree, and now that he was up twenty feet, he was already dreading his descent back to solid ground. Keen to distract himself from the dizzying height, he passed Liv the rope that he’d carried slung across his shoulders.

“What do you want me to do with it?” she demanded. “You’re meant to drop one end back down….”

“I’m not going near the edge!”

“Fine. Immy! You down there still?”

On the ground, and trying to wrestle a squeaky toy giraffe from Robin’s mouth, Immy craned her neck up.

“Yeah-- but you’re lucky I am, Reggie was so slow.”

“Careful. I was careful. You should bloody well try it sometime.”

Immy rolled her eyes dramatically, but nonetheless took the rope end that Liv had lowered to her, and ran it over to Estela so the distance could be measured.

“There we go,” Liv said, after having marked the rope at the edge of the platform. “Done. Reggie, if you’re just going to look down, you might as well be on the ground. Come on-- check out the view!”

Begrudgingly, Reggie sat up properly and looked around.

“Woah.” Maybe he could see the appeal of being up so high, even if he was immensely grateful for the safety rails around the platform. “You really can see everything up here.”

“Isn’t it cool?” Liv beamed as she pointed her cousin towards the paddock behind the yard. “You wanted to see our horse? Right in there at the side of the sheltery-shed thing….”

“Oh, wow! Okay, fine, I believe you now. I guess she was just hiding earlier.”

“That’s Miel. She’s like, older than dirt; Mama Estela used to ride her when she was a teenager.”

“And she’s still alive?”

“Just about. I think she’s uh… nearly thirty? Pretty ancient. Mom found out she was all on her own after her friend died, and she bought her so she could retire here with us. She’s kind of a bitey asshole. Uh, the horse-- not Mom.” Liv quickly amended, glancing to the in-progress tree-house. “So, we’re keeping her, and if she wants to make friends with the new horses we’re getting, she can, otherwise at least she can, like, neigh rude horse words at them from over the fence.”

Reggie snorted. Weirdo.

“I’m super excited. I know Mama ‘Stel was kind of nervous about us moving over here because of how things were when she was a kid-- but it actually… feels nice. I love our new house. I love cranky Miel. I love that we’re gonna get chickens, and maybe a new friend for Robin. Even the school seems pretty good.”

Swallowing his fear, Reggie joined Liv at the railing, dangling his legs over the side of the platform.

“Yeah, I think I like it here, too. Mom and Dad seem really happy; Dad says he can make more of a good difference in the world here than in America. So, I guess that’s got to be good. Did I tell you we’re going to put a pool in?”

“You might have mentioned it. When you’ve been whining about the heat, for the hundredth time.”

“It’s so humid!”

Liv giggled. It was like being back in the tropics of La Huerta, and to her, that felt right. Granted, it might have been nicer if they could just pop on over into a neighbouring alpine region that was inexplicably right next to the hot, sticky jungle, but she really loved it.

“Well,” Reggie said, “it’s going to be great. And it should be done by the time Quinn and Michelle come to visit.”

“Do we even know whose house they’re staying at yet?”

“It should be my place.” Reggie puffed out his chest, as if to emphasise the rightness of his point. “You’re definitely getting Jake and Sean and Mikey. You can’t take all the visitors. And besides… we’ll have a pool.”

That was hard to argue with. “It’s up to the adults anyway,” Liv conceded. In the end, it didn’t matter; she was going to make the most of having her La Huerta family around even if it meant camping out in Reggie’s back yard. “But, I will be a much better San Trobida tour guide than you. I’m still showing you around.”

Reggie hmphed, and Liv laughed.

“Come on, Reggie,” she said, dropping gracefully down the side of the wall and taking up hand-holds. “I’m getting hungry.”

It was at that point that Reggie made the sobering discovery that going down, was rather more intimidating than going up a sheer vertical surface.

“Um, Liv…,” he said quietly. “I, uh, don’t think I can do that.”

“Oh!” Liv responded. “Sorry, I forgot you’re new to this. Maybe you should’ve started smaller. But don’t worry, I’ll get you down….”

“Okay…,” he murmured, clearly not remotely convinced.

“Mom!” Liv hollered, all but making her poor cousin topple over the edge in surprise. “Reggie’s stuck!”

Reggie felt heat rise in his cheeks as his sisters, hanging out on the grass below the wall at the worst possible time, burst out laughing. Like they could even get up this high to begin with.

Up in the tree-house, Estela looked up and wiped off the paint from her hands. Rescuing kids from scrapes had pretty much become her specialty at this point; twelve years with Liv had seen to that. “I’m coming,” she called back.

“I’m not exactly stuck,” Reggie muttered defensively, as his Tia Estela easily scaled the climbing wall to join him and Liv, who’d already rejoined him to offer moral support. “If I really wanted to, I could climb down; I just feel I should practice climbing up a few more times before I try that.”

“You’ll get there,” Estela said kindly. As far as she was concerned, the fact that her nephew had a realistic view of his own capabilities was only a good thing. “I’ll have that zipline going in no time anyway, so you’ll have no hurry to work it out.”

With his aunt’s back offered to him, Reggie took the cue and wrapped his long arms around her neck, and his legs around her middle. Getting rescued by one of the team of protective grown-ups? Basically, the story of both his and Liv’s lives.

“Hang on, Regito,” Estela laughed.

____________________________

La Huerta, 2034

The frigid wind howled against the cabin door, and it took all of Liv and Reggie’s combined might to wrestle it closed. Both kids were panting heavily-- and shaking like leaves-- as they nervously stepped away.

“Thank god this little hut was here, really,” Liv heaved. “I dunno about you, but I’d rather be stranded in a snowstorm with walls around me.”

Reggie said nothing, and just shivered, wrapping his arms around his own torso. He’d wrapped up-- as if his parents would let him go wandering into the colder pockets of the island without a heap of layers-- but the snow had wet his gloves through, and a chill was now spreading through his body.

“Hey,” Liv said, “we should… we should get a fire going. You look like you’re halfway turned into a popsicle right now.”

As his cousin busied herself at the fireplace-- thank goodness there was some firewood left-- Reggie fiddled with his emergency phone. His heart sank. No signal. His mom and dad were going to be so worried when he and Liv never came home….

“Uh, Liv… I think the storm’s screwed up the reception here. It won’t let me phone Mom and Dad.”

Liv looked up, and for the first time, she looked truly fearful, her usual intrepid spirit extinguished in a flash. “They’re really gonna panic,” she said softly. She shuddered. If their parents came out looking for them, it meant walking out into a blizzard, and all the danger that came with it. If she could just tell her mothers that she was safe, that she and Reggie had shelter… they could wait out the storm. Anything could happen, anything….

“Are you okay, Livia?” Reggie asked, and he handed her a heavy blanket as he sat down cross-legged in front of her feebly burning fire. “You look kind of spaced-out.”

“Hng?”

“They’ll find us; it’ll be okay.”

“I don’t want them to come and find us,” Liv snapped. “I want them to stay where it’s safe. They could get hurt or, or worse because we were stupid enough not to turn around when the weather changed.” She placed a stick too roughly, and her firewood tower collapsed, extinguishing the flame. “For fuck’s sake!”

Reggie, wisely, stayed quiet, letting his cousin fix up the mess and get a new fire started without interference. He watched her with concern as her eyes welled. “Livia…?”

She huddled close to him, but for a long while, didn’t speak.

“Reggie,” she murmured at last, “something really horrible happened a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t want to talk about it with you, ‘cause… ‘cause I didn’t even want to think about it…. It just made me feel too bad. But, uh.... I was… I was playing in the sea with Mama Estela. Just like we always do. We were just goofing off. Then, um, I got all tangled up in those freaking weeds. They grabbed me and held me under.”

“That must have been so scary….”

“Of course, Mom got me out of there. B-but there was a sea-snake in there. It bit her. It happened so fast… I hardly even saw what happened, but she suddenly just... could hardly even get out of the water. I somehow managed to haul her up out the water, but she was all limp and… and I gave her the anti-venom, and she just started having some kind of fit.. Like her body was jerking around, and her mouth was all frothy.” She gasped through a sob. “Then she… she stopped breathing, completely.” Liv shuddered as the memory filled her mind, vivid as if it were yesterday. She could feel Reggie’s wide, horrified eyes upon her. “I screamed. I screamed for help. Mama Taylor was up the beach, she couldn’t hear me. S-so I did CPR. My hands were shaking so-- so bad. And all I could think was ‘I’m gonna screw this up. I’m gonna screw this up and my mom’s gonna die’.” Her voice cracked and she sputtered through hot tears that she wiped away with her arm. Before she knew it, Reggie had his arms around her and was holding her tight. “I don’t know how long it was,” she said. “It felt like forever, but it was probably only a few minutes. Then she started breathing and I just… I cried, and cried, and cried.”

Reggie gently rubbed Liv’s back, and it soothed her.

“I, uh, I guess I always thought Mama Estela was invincible. To me, she always was. There was nothing I couldn't do either, because she would always be there to protect me. It was so close, Reggie… it looked like she was gone.”

“I… didn’t know it was as bad as that. My dad told me she’d been bitten but…,” Reggie mumbled. “You must have been so scared. Have you… have you talked to your moms about it much?”

Liv sniffed, and wiped her face again. “Yeah. You know what my Mama Taylor is like; we’ve talked it through lots, I’ve told them how I’m feeling. But I haven’t… like… had a big cry since it happened.” Until now. Now, she just couldn’t seem to stop the tears from coming. Reggie didn’t seem to mind; he just sat with her, and rubbed her back, and told her it was okay.

After what seemed like an age, her tears slowed.

“It is going to be okay, you know?” Reggie said gently. “Obviously, they’re going to come out looking for us, but they’re smart. They’ll be prepared; just like your Mama Estela was with the anti-venom.”

“Yeah…,” Liv said, her voice small. You could be as prepared as you wanted, but sometimes the world managed to stay one step ahead. The storm outside was wild and furious, battering on the roof and walls… and it was frightening. Liv could only snuggle under her cousin’s arm, and trust that whatever search and rescue party was out there would come through.

The two kids huddled together beneath their blanket, speaking little, but making their mutual support known without words. Just the squeeze of a hand through the most blood-curdling howls of the wind, and the simple offer of presence.

Somehow, the creak of the door shoved open cut through the dull roar.

“Oh, thank goodness!”

“Dad!” Reggie leapt forward and flung his arms around his father, his face lighting up further when Grace followed in behind. “Mom!”

Grace put her shaking hands to her son’s face, gently sweeping hair from his eyes. “Darling, are you all right?” Then she pulled Liv into a fierce hug, and in a moment Aleister had his arms around all three of them. “We were so worried!”

Liv whimpered against Grace’s shoulder. “Are my moms out in the storm?” She knew the answer already.

“Yes, honey. They’re out searching for you. Don’t you stress, okay? We’ve got a flare to set off so they’ll know we found you here-- and Varyyn and Diego too.”

“Woah,” Liv murmured, “you got a whole search party out.”

There was a buzzing, and the flickering of blue light, then Iris materialised.

Reggie beamed. “Hey, Grandma! So, a ‘whole search party’ is pretty much correct.”

“I will say, being able to scan for nearby lifeforms is quite handy in situations like these.”

So, find my moms and Tio Diego. Liv hugged tighter to her Auntie Grace, with no words pleading for help.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Grace said gently, stroking Liv’s face, while Aleister saw to setting off the flare. “It’s going to be just fine. We’re not far from Elyys’tel; we all fanned out from there, so no one is going to be too deep into the mountains.”

That… actually made sense. It was enough, just enough to keep Liv a step above panic-mode. She headed back to the fireplace, but as her backside hit the floor, a guttural roar rocked the cabin, and she leapt back to her feet.

“What the--?”

“You two stay back!” Aleister ordered, his voice shaking. Why, oh why, did the children want to go gallivanting out in the frozen wilderness when there was a perfectly serviceable tropical paradise right outside their front door? He was going to be old before his time at this rate….

Grace, though, was already hauling open the door, to reveal the hulking figure of the Mountain Guardian.

A growl rumbling in her throat, Arktos loomed in the doorway, looking down at Grace with a questioning gaze.

“Hello…?” she said cautiously. The gigantic bear-like creature was generally reasonably friendly…. “Did we… did we disturb you with the flare?”

Arktos grumbled, her furry ears flicking with curiosity.

“Our friends are out there in the storm,” Grace continued, certain that the yeti would understand; her past experiences had only supported the fact that this creature was incredibly intelligent-- and benevolent. “The flare was to bring them to this cabin.”

With a soft huff, Arktos shuffled backwards, and all of a sudden, it seemed as though she was surrounded by a force-field… a bubble that the wind and blinding snow couldn’t penetrate.

Understanding, Grace turned to Iris. “I think we’re going hiking again-- with a little extra help this time. Al, you’ll stay and watch the kids?”

“I--I--” Aleister stuttered. “Well, of course. Stay close to the… the bear thing.” Scrambling a little, he pulled off his outer layer and offered it to her. “I won’t have you catching hypothermia.”

And Grace stepped into the snow, Iris hovering behind her, and found shelter in the yeti’s protective shield. She looked up at the beast, now rearing up onto colossal hind legs to scout for signs of nearby human activity. “Thank you, Arktos. I guess… I guess, you choose the direction, and we’ll start the search.”

The unusual trio headed out into the storm, and within moments, they were invisible for the wind thick with snow. Aleister, a look of dumbfoundment upon his face, closed the door, and again, the cabin was quiet.

“Damn. Auntie Grace is a fricking badass,” Liv breathed, face alight in awe.

Aleister, recovering from his wife’s shock exit quickly-- he’d seen her steely courage in action enough times to just about take it in his stride, nodded. “Indeed.” He brushed the last flakes of snow from his coat, and looked around the room. “Well, I don’t suppose the wait will pass any faster with us standing around here. Reggie, did we leave any board-games here last time?”

“Uh, looks like we’ve got ‘Scrabble’?”

Well, Liv thought, I don’t have a hope in hell against these people. Should’ve left ‘Twister’ here….

Reggie sat himself down in front of the crackling fire and started unpacking the box. “Hey, Livia-- team up with me?”

He was clearly still a little worried about her. If there was an opportunity to thrash her at something, Mr Pedantic-Always-Right would take it without fail. Or so Liv had believed.

She plonked down cross-legged beside him. “Yeah? Yeah, all right.”

The two kids exchanged a high five, and Liv couldn’t help but grin. You are going down, Uncle Al.

___________________________

San Trobida, September 2035

As the car pulled up the neatly paved pathway to Aleister and Grace’s house, Liv excitedly rolled down the window.

“Reginaaaaald!!!” she hollered.

“How,” Aleister wondered aloud, “can such a small person-- and the offspring of Estela and Diego of all people-- sound so eerily like a bloody foghorn?”

A beaming Reggie followed his father out the front door. He exchanged hugs with both his parents-- and his two little sisters-- and then rushed to join his cousin on the back seat.

“Are you ready to go, mijo?” Estela checked in, suppressing a laugh as Taylor all but did a contortion act to give her nephew a hug from the front seat.

He had Liv, didn’t he? So, basically, he was ready for anything.

The short drive to the school saw the return of those pesky jitters, and Reggie knew from the way his cousin jiggled her leg the whole way there that he was definitely not alone in that. The school ground, filled only with kids their own age when they’d been there for orientation, was swarming with adolescents of all sizes-- and just about all of them were bigger than Reggie and Liv.

With an awkward hug and a kiss to her mothers in the front of the car, Liv bit the bullet and, bulging backpack in hand, stepped out into a brave new world. There was only one thing for it; Reggie would just have to take the plunge. He swung his backpack over his shoulder, and followed after his cousin.

“Welp,” said Liv, “here goes nothing!”

Reggie gave a nervous laugh and playfully bashed Liv with his backpack, putting a reassuringly silly grin on her face.

We’ve got this.

_______________________

NOTES

Little Xiraana is @mauvecatfic's baby. Check out her stories; you won't regret it!

If you read 'A Ride to Remember', you might remember Miel. She's the very same horse.

Aaaaand, the incident Liv is recounting during the snowstorm is the one you can read from Estela's perspective in 'Teething Problems: Part Two'.

[lovelylogans]

honey, you’re familiar (like my mirror)

prologue: (re)birth

see next chapters, notes, and warnings here!

“We all experience many births and deaths in a life.” —Jonas Maliki, Sense8 

EMILE

Emile Picani has always loved children, but, as a cis man, he had generally contented himself with the fact that a woman would eventually bear them (as he pieced together the whole oops, all gay! thing in his mid-to-late teens, he mentally altered that to through surrogacy) or that he would adopt children with a loving partner someday.

He had really been very, very content with the idea of never giving birth. He had been perfectly fine with the idea of never giving birth. He would really, really love it if he were not giving birth right now. But as it is—

“Does psychic birth count as birth?” Linda asks, tilting her head; she’d chopped off her hair in her kitchen a month ago, so now it swishes along her jaw. The loss of a foot of hair doesn’t mean her hair is any more tamed than it was when it was waist-length, back when they’d first seen each other face-to-face.

Emile moans in pain, rolling face-down onto the couch to press his face into the cushions, blocking out all light; the pressure and ache behind his eyes that’s been mounting for days is almost as bad as it had been when he’d been born. Reborn. 

Sensate birth is so confusing.

The weight of another member of his cluster dips the couch cushion near his feet.

“I would be this close to leaving if the call to visit wasn’t so strong,” Andy groans, and then the sound of someone hitting him; Missy, he’s sure.

“He is having our weird psychic niblings,” she scolds from where she sits beside Andy. “We need to be here and support him while he’s in the birthing bed, as moral support!”

“Not actual birth,” Emile groans into his couch cushion.

“Hey, Emi,” she continues, ignoring him, “you can’t tell if one of them is in Greece yet, can you? Try and aim for one in Heraklion, I never get to go to Crete and I want to go sightseeing!”

“Or Manila!” Linda calls. “But that’s more for my convenience than a vacation.”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t pick where you’ve got your psycellium-connection children, but if you do, aim for Brazil for me so I can meet one,” Nate says, with a hand still awkwardly on Emile’s back in an attempt to comfort him, and Emile is so grateful to him for being with him through the whole of this psychic labor he could cry.

Well. He’s pretty sure he’s already crying from the pain, but.

“Do they count as children?” Andy says, then, “well, I guess you don’t know how old they are yet, do you. It could be a super early activation, so you could end up with a bunch of kids. Or, wait, hey, how funny would it be if you ended up just plucking late activations from retirement homes?”

Emile reaches blindly for the nearest cushion to block his ears. He can tell through feeling that it’s the Mickey Mouse one, but even as he places it over his head the texture skitters under his fingers—a pen, a soft blanket, thick paper, a cold glass sweating with condensation, back to a cushion—and he goes about blocking out Linda and Missy’s chattering about hoping one of them is in their respective countries, so they can be the weird psychic aunties they’d always been meant to be.

Another voice that manages to actually startles him this time, and blurrily, barely comprehensible beyond the pain, he thinks that should probably be how he knows the birth is close: ever since they’d all gained some form of equilibrium, after their own birth nearly ten years ago now, he’s never, ever been startled by the appearance of one of his cluster, ever.

“Ditto on telling me if you end up getting a Canadian,” Brian says, and Emile manages to peek out from his cushion to see Brian crouched on the floor in front of him, beside Nate, smiling at him as if nothing’s wrong, even though he can feel Brian’s nerves roiling alongside his own. “B'ezras Hashem, they won’t end up with only Missy as an auntie, eh?”

He lets out a laugh that sounds more like a sob and he has to squeeze his eyes shut against the pain, then, the pressure behind his eyes unbearable, like all the water of a dam pressing unerringly against the littlest crack, waiting for it to burst.

“Where the hell are you, Remy,” he can hear Toby snarl—when did Toby get here?—and Nate’s hand rubs soothingly up and down his back, shushing Toby.

“Of all the days to take a blocker off-schedule,” Andy tsks. “You should all listen to me, we knew that could be a worst-case scenario—”

“Not his fault,” Emile chokes out—if this could be equitable to normal, human baby birth, Emile might think that the stress of Remy catching sight of someone entering his café and immediately blocking them all out before anyone else could notice might have been what triggered this labor to come on so sudden and so strong.

“No, ‘course not,” Linda says in a soft, soothing voice, nearly drowned out by the sound of fabric smacking against skin; he’s pretty sure that Missy’s hit Andy upside the head with one of his couch cushions, and that’s confirmed when he hears Missy hiss “that is his boyfriend what is wrong with you for bringing that up right now” “well he did!” “oh my God, Emile is literally giving birth right now, this is not the time—”

A particularly strong surge of pressure and Emile clenches his teeth against a scream of pain—sunlight in his eyes flowers in his nose rocks scraping his hands—and his bickering cluster falls immediately silent, and still, and scared, a moment of silence before their thoughts come rushing in—what if this goes why didn’t harley tell us it could be like where is he it’s his damn boyfriend need to help them is he going how is this going to work harley where are you

“It’s okay it’s okay it’s okay,” Nate chants, rubbing a hand up down his back, and Emile actually sobs, this time, because it hurts, it hurts so much, he feels like his brain is exploding.

There are so many flickers of sensation, all the time, flickering from his own couch to the floor of Nate’s office to Linda’s kitchen table to a fancy apartment to Andy’s balcony to a dark silent bed to a grassy field to sprinting along the sidewalk past a patisserie to ears popping on an airplane on wait go back go back that was Remy Remy—

But it’s snatched away on a brisk wind on a blast of air conditioning on a cocoon of warmth under blankets on on on on on

it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay, his cluster says as one, it’s okay it’s okayit’sokayit’sokay—

Nate squeezes his shoulder, and Emile sucks in a desperate breath of air, distantly aware of his own body, the fact he’s writing on his back, now, the heels of his hands digging into his eyes, his throat aching like he’s been screaming, Nate’s hand on his shoulder Missy’s fingers twining with his Linda touching his wrist Andy holding his ankle Brian’s hand on his knee. And he feels anchored.

And then Remy bursts into the apartment, and Emile bawls at the sight of him, the force of it making all of the cluster reach for Remy as one.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Remy pants, skidding to a stop at his couch, “fuck, I’m so sorry, baby—”

“Hurts,” is all Emile can say, and suddenly his body and the entire cluster has shifted—Remy lying behind him, his arms wrapped around Emile’s chest to keep him upright, his cluster touching his arms, his legs, his chest.

“I’m here,” Remy whispers, carding back Emile’s sweaty hair. “I’m right here, babe, I’m so sorry, I’m here now. I’m here.”

“It hurts,” Emile whimpers. “Rem, it hurts so much.”

“I know, I know, I can feel it,” Remy whispers into his ear, rocking him back and forth. “Em, you’re so close, baby, you’re almost done, you’re amazing.”

Emile, blindly, reaches out to clutch his hand and Remy is always, always there to take it, letting Emile crush his hand.

There’s a pull, now. He can feel it, a full-body pull, and—

“You got this,” Remy whispers. “Emile, honey, you’ve got this. We’re right here with you.”

You’re right here with me, Emile thinks, dizzy with the relief of it, finally, all of them, EmileRemyLinnyBrianTobyNateMissyAndy, you’re right here with me, and he lets himself be pulled.

And his brain expands.

“Remy, I see them,” he whispers. “I see them…”

The lights are off here, the only lighting from the moon, illuminated the massive apartment furnished in sleek black lines and bright golds, a man tossing and turning, facing Emile.

The man glances at him, rolls away, pauses, then rolls back abruptly; in the low light, Emile can see the scar slashed across his cheek, bisecting a birthmark. 

“Oh,” Emile whispers, his throat clogged suddenly at the sight of this man—he already knows that his name is Janus, and he is brilliant and cut-throat and lonely and dangerous and Emile loves him already. “Oh, they’re beautiful. You’re beautiful, my dear. My darling.”

Emile reaches for him, and Janus opens his mouth, brow furrowed, about to ask, but Emile is pulled away before he can.

He is suddenly drenched with sweat under hot lights, a conglomeration of cameras in the distance, and he squints to where the boom microphones are held directly aloft—this is Roman, who has his head tilted toward a man in a baseball cap, deep in conversation. Emile glances back over his shoulder and sees a city skyline—old, and beautiful, and familiar because Emile’s been here. Or one of his cluster had been, anyway.

For all that Roman looks so involved in the conversation, Emile can feel the exhaustion of a long day’s shoot, the weight on his shoulders, the constant itch to reach for his phone, to scan the news. Roman’s brow furrows and he looks up, directly meeting Emile’s eyes.

“Are you lost?” Roman says uncertainly, and Emile smiles at him.

“No,” he says. “I was looking for you.”

“Who are you talking to?” The man in the cap asks, and Emile is pulled away.

He’s on a plane and his ears are refusing to pop. Emile grimaces in sympathy, even as he’s glancing over to the man sitting beside him on the plane. Well, slumped, to be more accurate, trying to get some sleep and failing miserably. Emile’s eyes ache with commiseration.

“Sorry,” Emile says sympathetically, remembering his own sleepless days after rebirth.

The man squints out at him, tugging off his purple headphones. “‘Scuse me?” He says, his voice accented—African?

“You’re probably not going to be able to sleep for a few days. Or, um. Not sleep well, I should say.”

“...I’ve had jet lag before,” Virgil says, and yes, he has, hasn’t he?

“Congratulations,” Emile says hastily, already feeling the pull. “A doctorate’s a very big achievement, you should be proud of yourself.”

Virgil’s eyes go wide, and he shrinks back a little in his seat.

“How did you—?”

And Emile is not trapped in a plane anymore, but he almost wishes he was.

“Jiminy crickets, it’s cold,” Emile says aloud, wrapping his arms around himself, because jeez louise it is cold!

Logan freezes from where he is examining a telescope to ensure it’s in working order. 

“The supply ship isn’t due until next week,” he says. His voice is very even and measured. “That is the only opportunity for strangers to get onto the island.”

“Supply…” Emile repeats, before he learns—remembers? “Oh. My goodness, you’re researching in Antarctica?!”

He is! He is researching in Antarctica! He’s a space researcher who is so good at what he does he got to go to Antarctica to study even more in-depth! Gosh, Emile has birthed a smart cluster, there are at least two doctors here! 

“...Am I hallucinating?” Logan asks himself very quietly.

“No!” Emile says hastily. “No no no no, goodness, no!”

Logan’s eyes narrow. “That is… precisely what one would think an induced hallucination would say.”

Emile’s about to explain, but he’s pulled before he can; he has a feeling that Logan’s going to need the most in-depth scientific explanation the Archipelago has accrued over the years.

And he is in a brightly decorated room, with soft toys and lots of colors and the letters of the alphabet winding around the room; a big, tall man is kneeling on the ground, carefully easing a backpack onto a child who couldn’t be more than five.

“All right, Livvy-Lou, we got it all figured out now, don’t we?” the man says brightly—his name is Patton, and he is soft and loving and beautiful and so very sad. 

A grin bursts out on the child’s face. “Thank you, Mr. T!”

Patton smiles, flicking one of her braided pigtails into place so that it doesn’t get tugged by her backpack straps, and gently nudges her along her way before he glances up.

“Hello!” Patton says to Emile brightly. “Are you a—?”

And then he falters.

“...you’re not a parent,” Patton says slowly. “Are you?”

“Well,” Emile says. “I suppose it depends on how you define ‘parent,’ and also, whose parent you think I am.”

Patton’s eyes crinkle with a smile. “What an odd way to answer that question.”

“You’re about to have a lot of odd days ahead of you,” Emile says, “I mean, a lot,” and—

A man sitting hunched under a tree is cussing to himself, even as he eats food he’s gotten from the trash, and his eyes widen at the sight of Emile, already rising to a half-crouch, ready to run.

“Oh,” Emile says. “Oh, goodness. You’ve gotten yourself into quite a situation, haven’t you?”

Remus snarls at him wordlessly. 

Emile frowns a little, his heart aching with terrible concern, not all of it his own. “Is that all you have to eat?”

“Fuck off,” Remus spits, and—

Emile gasps, back in Remy’s arms, back in his apartment, his cluster all staring at him, wide-eyed.

“So?” Missy urges. “Greeks? Tell me you got a Greek.”

He looks at her, and he thinks of the cluster he has just brought into the world, and he feels such a surge of overwhelming joy that he can do nothing but laugh.

His cluster laughs with him, and Remy lets out a huffing breath, hugging him close and kissing his temple, and Emile sighs, closing his eyes, exhausted but still smiling, smiling, smiling.

In London, in Mexico City, in the air between Baltimore and Pretoria, in Antarctica, in Monterrey—

He hopes they all hear it.

Welcome to being sensate, my loves.

[lupinlongbottom]

Practically a Weasley pt. 3

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: What could make Charlie’s life more full? He already had a wife he adored, a job he loved and a child who loved him more than the moon and stars. Lunch with his mum isn’t the first idea on his list, that’s for sure. 

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: a couple of swears? but like when isn’t there my dudes

A/N: So like, these are probably like 3 different stories in one, no clear plot. Oops that’s just my brain getting excited at the idea of their child and the Weasley dynamic so idk still cute

Part 1 ... Part 1.5 ... Part 2 ... Epilogue

__

“Charles Septimus Weasley!”

The name echoed through the quaint cottage, volume boasting only what could be rivaled to a howler. Charlie had been anticipating a screech like that all day, quietly enjoying a pot of tea, reading the latest issue of the Quibbler before his wife awoke.

“Yes my flower?” Charlie hummed, eyes not leaving his magazine. The latest headlining story involved a sighting of a new type of mini-dragon, one with invisible wings. They were not lizards, a fact Charlie was sure of.

“I just received an owl,” (Y/N) pointed, hopping down the oak stairs as if it were nothing. “From your brother,” she crossed her arms.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, love. Got quite a few of those,” he took a sip of tea.

“From Bill, the brother who was watching your daughter last night?”

“Oh love, I can’t remember much from last night. Maybe you can jog my memory?” His eyes peeked over the magazine, eyeing his wife up and down. 

“Cheeky,” (Y/N) replied cooly, feeling a slight heat rise to her cheeks. “He said that Kayda had a wonderful time with her cousins, but when it came time to get ready for bed, she didn’t have any pajamas.”

“Oh?”

“You know what she had, though?”

“Not exactly,” he shrugged, flipping the page. “I let her pack her own overnight bag.”

“Did you double check it before you dropped her off?” (Y/N) crossed her arms, all her weight shifting to one side. “You know, considering she’s five?”

“I trust my daughter,” Charlie said, finally setting the magazine down, looking his wife in the eye. “But, to answer your question, it just might have slipped my mind.”

“Funny,” (Y/N) moved over to the table, standing directly over Charlie. “You know, last night, I was wondering why I couldn’t find that little red thing you like,” (Y/N) hummed, tapping her chin. “But Bill made it abundantly clear that Kayda had a very similar ‘night gown’ to wear.”

It took Charlie every ounce of his being to not laugh out loud. “And? You wore the black thing I like even better,” he grinned, pulling his wife onto his lap. “I’m sure Bill was mortified.”

“Charlie, I’m mortified! I don’t need your brother knowing what sorts of intimates I own!” (Y/N) allowed her head to fall into her hands. Charlie wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Flower,” another kiss. “He know’s we fuck. He babysat the evidence last night.”

“Charlie!” (Y/N) slapped his arm, trying to escape her husband’s grip. He tightened his hold. “I’m serious. We have lunch with your mum today! How am I supposed to look anyone in the eye?”  

“Then don’t,” Charlie shrugged, swaying side to side, resting his head on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “Try avoiding your best mates once Bill tells ‘em after he drops Kay off,” Charlie laughed, pressing a kiss to his wife’s neck.

“No,” (Y/N) practically sighed. “Fred and George aren’t going to let me hear the end of it,” Charlie pressed another kiss to her neck, this time sucking lightly on her pulse. “Charlie, we shouldn’t…”

“Funny,” Charlie said, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. “You didn’t say that last night. Got out all the candles, busted out the turntable—”

“—we have to leave for The Burrow soon,” she sighed again, leaning into Charlie’s peppering kisses. “I barely have enough time to get ready as it is!”

“Come on, love. You look even more radiant than the day I met you,” He pressed a kiss to her lips, soft and sweet. “We can be quick, considering we took our time last night,” another kiss. “Think of it as an encore presentation.”

(Y/N) laughed, finally releasing herself from her husband’s grip, headed towards the stairs. Charlie focused all too intently as she walked away. “Well?” (Y/N) stood at the end of the stairs, hand on her hip. “You coming?”

__

Charlie and (Y/N) arrived to their planned lunch on time. It only took a quick use of their floo and a careful once over of their appearances to make it to Molly and Arthur’s.

“Charlie! (Y/N)!” Molly exclaimed, practically rushing over to the fireplace to greet her children. With two wet smooches, (Y/N) and Charlie entered the living room. “Oh, Kayda is going to be thrilled that you’ve made it,” Molly said, rubbing Charlie’s cheek. “Sorry, sweetie. Floo powder.”

“Mum…” he hissed, swatting her hand away. “Where is everyone?” Charlie noted, taking a longer look at the living room and kitchen. 

“They’re out playing quidditch, dear,” Molly answered, nodding her head to the back door. “Ginny made time in her busy schedule to be here, so Fred and George have been testing their little sister’s skills.”

“Sounds about right,” (Y/N) laughed, putting a dish on the kitchen table. “Do you have room for a cake, Molly? Charlie and I made one last night,” (Y/N) laughed. “Well, Charlie did most of it, but I added the hundreds and thousands.”

“I’m sure with the lot outside working as hard as they are, they’ll appreciate the treat, it won’t go to waste,” Molly smiled, setting the table. “I think the twins were trying to get little Kay up on a broom, might need her mum’s eye on that.”

(Y/N) groaned. “Peachy. Thanks for the heads up, Molly.”

“(Y/N), hear me out,” Charlie approached, blocking (Y/N) from opening the door to the backyard. “If they let her fall off you take Fred and I’ll take George.”

“Deal.”

The couple walked out to the makeshift quidditch pitch, hand in hand. Only two redheads could be seen flying in the sky, relief leaving their bodies with a deep exhale. 

“Mummy!” A little redhead exclaimed, her chocolate brown eyes meeting (Y/N)’s. She struggled out of Ginny’s lap to run over to her mother, barreling faster than a snitch. Her little arms wrapped tightly around (Y/N)’s legs. “You’re here!”

“I am!” (Y/N) giggled, pulling her daughter up into her arms, kissing her forehead. The softness of her red bangs tickled (Y/N)’s nose.

“Daddy made it too, you know,” Charlie mumbled, fighting back a grin. He pulled his family in for a short hug, enjoying the warmth.

“Hi daddy,” Kayda said, waving to her father lightly, her hand moving in small circles.

“Glad to see you two made it safe,” Ginny laughed, walking over to her brother and his wife. “You just missed Bill.”

“He’s not staying for lunch?” (Y/N) asked. Ginny shook her head. “Amazing,” (Y/N) sighed, setting her daughter down. “He didn’t… share anything about their night last night, did they?”

“No, nothing out of the ordinary,” Ginny hummed, fingers running through her pixie cut. “But Kayda couldn’t stop talking about the dinner that Auntie Phlegm made.”

Kayda’s eyes lit up, a lightning bolt of remembrance hitting her face. “Oh! Mum! Aunt Phlegm made this yummy—”

“Kayda, her name is Aunt Fleur, not Phlegm,” (Y/N) looked at Ginny, who was wearing a proud grin, pride boasting from her chest. “What did Fleur make you?”

“Sorry mum,” Kayda sighed. “Aunt Fleur made dinner with all vegetables! She cut them really, really thin and called it rat-a-patoolie!” 

“Rat-a-patoolie?” Charlie asked.

“You ate vegetables?” (Y/N) asked.

“They were really good, better than your veggies, mum!” Kayda smiled, hands on her hips. “Did you see that I dressed myself?”

“I did,” (Y/N) smiled, noting the bright purple overalls atop of a lime green jumper, not a pair of matching socks in sight. “I heard dad let you pack your clothes.”

“We heard that too,” Fred said, leaning down from his broom, now hovering over his family.

“Bill told us all about it,” George winked, hovering a few meters away from Fred, spinning upside down. “Say, Kay, how were your pajamas?”

“Red!” Kayda exclaimed, jumping lightly.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N), Uncle Billy made sure that she wore something else,” Fred cooed. “Mummy’s ‘fun clothes’ are folded neatly away.”

“You both have seven seconds to fly away,” (Y/N) said, pulling her wand out of her sleeve. “Before I do something I regret.”

“I’d listen to her, blokes,” Charlie laughed. “She nearly had my head this morning.”

“Bet she had more than your head this morning,” George smiled, high fiving Fred. The two laughed in the air, circling menacingly.

“Charlie, Ginny, take Kayda inside,” (Y/N) pushed up her sleeves. Charlie nodded and swooped his daughter right up.

“What’re you going to do from down there?” Fred chided, flying higher on his broom. “Last I checked, little (Y/N) isn’t good in the air.”

“Yeah, as long as we’re up here,” George laughed, holding his arms out. “We’re untouchable!”

(Y/N) stood for a moment. This was true, she was never good on a broom, practically cursed the second she sat upon it. It had been years since she tried again.

“Mum’s going to kill you!” Kayda shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth. “You’re just scaredy-cats! Come down and fight her like boys!”

“Kayda,” (Y/N) scoffed. “I would never kill your uncles,” she smiled, patting her head. “Seriously injuring or harming them? Fair game.”

“No fair,” Fred yelled. “Using our favorite niece to taunt us?”

“Low blow, (Y/N),” George added.

“She learned that all on her own,” (Y/N) laughed. “Now, do you want to disappoint your little Kay-Kay?”

“Uncle Fred, Uncle George!” Kayda waved, grinning widely. “I wanna see your new toys!” Charlie whispered in his daughter’s ear. “Please?” she pleaded, now corrected by her father.

“Kayda…” Fred groaned, hanging upside down on his broom. “Stop looking so cute!”

“(Y/N), using children like this should be a criminal offense,” George pointed. “Punishable by an unforgivable curse!”

“Charlie?” (Y/N) turned, giving her husband a knowing look. “Time for the big guns.” Charlie nodded, leaning in to whisper to his daughter one more time. 

“Uncle George and Fred?” Kayda asked, batting her brown eyes. “If you won’t come down to play with me, I’ll make Uncle Percy my favorite uncle.”

“Percy!?” The twins screamed in unison, instantly lowering their brooms and landing on the ground below. 

“Go on, (Y/N),” Fred said, getting on his knees. “Take your best shot! We’ll take anything over your daughter’s threats.”

(Y/N) smiled, walking over to the twins, tapping her wand to the tip of her nose. “Rictusempra,” she mumbled, causing the twins to buckle in complete hysteria. She turned around to her husband, still holding their daughter. “Let’s go see what Molly cooked for lunch, yeah?”

__

“Mummy,” Kayda whimpered, pushing her plate away. “I don’t want any carrots.”

“Darling, you’ll hurt your gran’s feelings if you don’t at least try them,” (Y/N) sighed, patting her daughter’s back. The rest of the family had finished eating over 20 minutes ago, Ginny had already left, the twins were outside. (Y/N) was determined to get Kayda to eat one baby carrot, even if it killed her. 

“You won’t hurt my feelings,” Molly piped up, washing the dishes. “Charlie never cared for carrots either,” she laughed.

“Molly,” (Y/N) hissed. “If she can eat Fleur’s ratatouille, she can eat at least one of your carrots.”

“Let me try,” Charlie said, sitting on the chair next to his daughter, cracking his knuckles exaggeratedly. “Kay, you remember going to go see Harriet, right?” Kayda nodded. Harriet was her favorite to visit at the sanctuary, after Charlie of course. “She didn’t used to be as big as she is now, you know why?”

“Because she grew up?” Kayda asked, looking up at her father.

“Well, yes,” Charlie smiled lightly. “But she grew because she also ate her carrots.” Charlie put his hand atop his daughters, holding it gently.

“Dragons don’t eat carrots, daddy,” Kayda laughed, swatting his hand away. “You said Harriet used to eat spinach too! She can’t eat both!”

(Y/N) laughed. “She’s right, Charlie, Harriet couldn’t possibly have eaten both carrots and spinach,” Charlie gave (Y/N) an exasperated look. She shot back a shit-eating grin.

“Tell you what,” Charlie said, picking up a spare fork. “If you eat a carrot, I’ll eat a carrot,” he held back a gulp. “Then you can go and play with Fred and George all you want, okay?”

“You’ll eat a carrot?” Kayda’s brown eyes grew to the size of saucers. She quickly shoved her fork in her mouth, the orange disappearing behind her lips. A few chews and swallow, she grinned. “Your turn, daddy!”

Charlie sat still. “You ate that fast, Kay,” he laughed nervously, tapping the fork lightly to the plate. “Did you think she’d eat it that fast?” He turned to (Y/N). She laughed.

“She’s your daughter,” (Y/N) shrugged. “Stubborn and determined as all hell.”

“As all hell!” Kayda repeated, grinning wildly.

“Kayda,” Charlie groaned. “What did we say about swearing?”

“That mummy and daddy are allowed to do it, but not me,” Kayda sighed, looking down. Her crestfallen expression quickly flipped. “Eat your carrot, dad!” she exclaimed, changing the subject.

“She’s right,” (Y/N) hummed, leaning behind Charlie, wrapping her arms around his chest, head resting on his shoulder. “You’re avoiding the carrot, dad.”

“(Y/N),” he groaned again, feeling (Y/N)’s lips press against his temple. “Carrots are gross.”

“Stop being a baby,” (Y/N) laughed, her hand guiding his to the plate, stabbing a baby carrot with the fork. “You’re setting a bad example for your daughter,” (Y/N) said, holding his hand, now forcing the carrot closer to his lips. 

“What’s in it for me?” Charlie asked, turning his head away from the fork.

(Y/N) smiled, her lips meeting his for a short peck. “The satisfaction of your daughter’s dreams coming true,” another short kiss.

“Please, daddy?” Kayda pleaded, clasping her hands together. Molly grinned from the sink, enjoying the scene before her.

“You have two beautiful girls asking you to eat a carrot, Charlie. There are worse things.” Molly laughed.

Charlie took a deep breath, finally determined to fulfill his promise. With a bated breath, he put the carrot in his mouth, chewing slowly. All eyes were on him, waiting for his final swallow. “There,” Charlie groaned, slamming the fork down. “Are you all happy?”

“Yeah, I am,” Kayda said, dropping down from her chair. “Gran, can I be excused?” Molly nodded. “I’m going to go play with Uncle Fred and George!” 

“You did it,” (Y/N) laughed, rubbing Charlie’s back. “You ate a carrot without vomiting,” she grabbed Kayda’s plate, finally turning it into the sink.

“And they say love is dead,” Charlie said, wiping his mouth. “I can’t believe Kayda actually ate a carrot. I was almost certain she would throw a fit.”

“You underestimate our daughter, sometimes.” 

“Maybe so,” Charlie groaned. “She just holds such a power over me, (Y/N),” he shook his head. “I better go make sure Fred and George don’t use Kayda as a test subject or something.”

“A doting father never rests,” (Y/N) laughed. 

“You know,” Molly said, turning from the sink. “I never thought I’d see the day where Charlie was under the complete mercy of a little girl,” she laughed, pulling her greying hair out of her bun. “Besides Ginny, of course.”

“Children change people,” (Y/N) shrugged. “Changed me a bit. Kayda gives me more than enough inspiration for new books. I reckon I could pump at least two or three more out just thinking about it.”

“Children?” Molly asked excitedly.

“What?” (Y/N) felt her cheeks heat up, realizing what she had just said. “Oh, Godric no! I reckon one’s enough. I was talking about my books, Molly.”

“You never thought of having another one?” Molly sat at the kitchen table, summoning a pot of tea. “Children are a blessing, you know.”

“Charlie and I never talked about it,” (Y/N) shrugged. “I know Kayda wants a little brother, asked for one last Christmas. But Charlie’s so busy at work, I’m practically locked in my study every hour of the day now that Kay’s at school…”

“Last I remember, you and Charlie didn’t talk about having Kayda,” Molly hummed. “Come to think of it, you didn’t exactly talk about marriage either. You’re a very spontaneous lot, the two of you,” she smiled, sipping from her mug. “I know it’s none of my business, but I would adore another grandchild.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Molly,” (Y/N) said, forcing a small smile. “It’s just, our life is just so perfect the way it is, you know? I have a husband who loves me unconditionally, an angel of a child and a career I love. I’m just afraid—”

“That a new baby is going to ruin it?” (Y/N) nodded her head. “Did I ever tell you about when I had Bill? Arthur and I had the same conversation about having Charlie.”

“You did?”

“Children bring joy, (Y/N). I’m sure you know that with Kayda. I’m sure Charlie knows, too.”

“You seem a bit biased,” (Y/N) smiled.

“I am,” Molly laughed. “I just can’t wait for more grandkids! I’m up to four now, quite the collection.”

“I’ll try talking to Charlie, see where his head is at,” (Y/N) stood up, hearing a loud crash from outside. “Didn’t Fred mention at lunch that they were working on a new dungbomb?” Molly nodded. “I didn’t realize becoming a mother meant I had to babysit my best mates and husband, too,” she sighed, enjoying the jovial laughter Molly sprung from the kitchen as (Y/N) went outside.

The scent was excruciating, swelling into (Y/N)’s senses. The culprits, (Y/N) deduced, were laughing like maniacs. The sweet bell-like sound of her daughter’s laugh was sprinkled into the mess.

“Mummy! Do you smell that?” Kayda laughed, calling from George’s lap, his arm wrapped lovingly around her. “Uncle George farted!”

“Did not!” George said, looking down at his niece. “I thought that was you!” Kayda’s laughter rang out again, shaking her head wordlessly. “Maybe it was Fred?”

“Oi! Maybe it was the dungbomb?” Fred asked, pointing to the exploded fragments a few meters away from the group.

“Can’t even go along with Kay-Kay’s joke? What kind of comedian are you?” George asked, glaring at his twin. “Honestly, I don’t even know you anymore.”

“Where’s Charlie?” (Y/N) asked, realizing that her husband wasn’t around.

“He’s out flying,” George said, thumb pointing to the pitch. “We convinced him to—”

“—blow off some steam while we had some quality time with the greatest product tester,” Fred ruffled Kayda’s bangs, eliciting a grin from the girl.

“What did you say to him, exactly?” (Y/N) asked, knowing full well that Charlie wouldn’t have just left their daughter in the hands of the twins for too long.

“Oh nothing…”

“Just maybe that his quidditch skills are dwindling every second he spends off of a broom…”

“The fact that also his little sister is dominating in the quidditch world and out-shining him as the ‘Weasley star’…”

“Alright,” (Y/N) said, holding her hand up. “I’m going to find my husband, don’t let Kayda eat anything funky, okay?” (Y/N) turned to the pitch, walking away.

“Is a ‘face pickling fudge’ considered funky?” George shouted, ignoring the finger (Y/N) was proudly flashing for him.

(Y/N) looked to the sky, watching Charlie zoom through the various hoops on either end of the field with ease, as if he had been born on a broom. The wind breezed through his hair, blowing it back. Charlie noted his audience, lowering almost instantly.

“No helmet?” (Y/N) laughed, kissing Charlie as he dismounted. 

“Seekers don’t wear helmets, love,” Charlie said, combing through his hair. “Besides, you love the wind-swept look.”

“I do,” (Y/N) hummed, kissing her husband again. “For someone who claims to never fly at work, you were pulling those stunts off pretty easily,” (Y/N) noted, tracing her finger in a loop.

“I didn’t say I never fly,” Charlie said, laughing lightly. “But flying for fun and flying away from an angry dragon are two completely different things, flower.”

“Maybe,” (Y/N) agreed. “Why don’t you fly more around the house? Kayda would love to watch you.”

“You know how you are on a broom, love. The second Kay sees me fly around, she’ll want you to join. I’m just avoiding that disappointment.”

“Disappointment?” 

“When Kayda figures out that her mum’s a wussy,” Charlie beamed, fully expecting the slap to the side he had received. “You know I’m right!” 

“Kayda knows that I’m shit on a broom,” (Y/N) said, crossing her arms. “I know how badly you want to get her on one, but we agreed—”

“Stop talking, (Y/N),” Charlie said, hopping back onto his broom, holding his hand out. “Get on the broom.”

“Are you kidnapping me to make a point?” (Y/N) laughed, pointing an eyebrow upwards at the notion.

“Wouldn’t call it a kidnapping,” Charlie said, offering his hand again. “Don’t you want your child to know you’re not a wussy? If I can eat a carrot for our daughter, you can ride on a broom for her too.”

“I failed flying class at school—”

“I didn’t,” Charlie said, taking his wife’s hand, pulling her up onto the stick. She sat behind him, holding onto his chest tightly. “I’m the one flying this broom, yeah?”

“Charles Weasley if you do any funny tricks, I swear on my own life—”

“What? I can’t hear you!” Charlie shouted, swiftly lifting into the air, pointing to his ear. “The wind!”

“Shut your mouth, Charlie!” (Y/N) screamed, clinging to her husband tighter as the ground below became smaller and smaller. “You can hear me perfectly fine!”

Charlie stopped, floating midair, The Burrow the size of an apple below them. “Love, there’s no need to shout,” he said, turning his head slightly, a grin stretched to his face. “I’m right here.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” (Y/N) said, burrowing her face into Charlie’s red jumper.

“Aim for one of the twins, would you? I overheard them scheming to put different prank supplies for Kayda in her bag before we leave,” he laughed. “Besides, you’re the one who gave me this jumper, I quite like it.”

“I guess it’s not so bad from up here…” (Y/N) said, taking another look at the ground.

“Of course not,” Charlie laughed, causing (Y/N)’s arms to bounce. “You’re with your favorite person, your husband, whom you trust I hope?”

“Kayda’s my favorite person,” (Y/N) said simply. “You’re up there, though."

“I could flip this broom around right now and you have the audacity to say that your daughter is your favorite person?”

“Hey, she’s our daughter. Last I checked it took the two of us to make her,” (Y/N) laughed. “I can be a bit of a narcissist and say that my favorite person is a perfect mix of my other favorite person and myself, right?”

“Perhaps,” Charlie said, flying slowly around the grounds, gently elevating and dipping every so often. “She’s pretty perfect.”

“Do you want another?” (Y/N) blurted, not even realizing what she had said. 

“What?”

“Molly said something after lunch that had me thinking—”

“Yes,” Charlie said simply. “Of course I want another.”

“You better not be pulling on my leg, Charles Weasley.”

“I’m serious,” Charlie laughed. “I know my mum planted that seed in your head—obsessed with her grandchildren, that one—but understand that I’d be open to having another.”

“Open?”

“Like you said, love,” Charlie began to fly closer to The Burrow, watching Kayda jump enthusiastically below. “It takes two,” he shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, I would love nothing more than to try day and night—”

“I get the picture,” (Y/N) laughed, her face surely growing pink. “I’m not entirely sure I want another, honestly. We didn’t plan Kayda, but I’m so happy she’s in our lives…”

“So maybe we don’t plan?” Charlie shrugged, turning his head again. “Maybe we just continue our weekly routines—a little less carefully—and accept whatever is to come of it?”

“We’re quite against planning anything, aren’t we?” (Y/N) said, loosening her grip on Charlie, finally growing used to the height.

“Speaking of, we didn’t use any—”

“—this morning? No. No we did not,” (Y/N) laughed. “An oversight.” (Y/N) pressed a soft kiss to the back of Charlie’s shoulder, leaning fully onto his back. A husband who loved her, friends closer than brothers and a child who lit up her waking days? Maybe another wouldn’t hurt.

Right?

__

General Tag List: @maralisa124 , @leighxlover , @hey-its-me-rai , @missihart23 , @biatheintrovert , @chocolaterumble, @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy , @steve-thotgers , @greeneyedthief

Charlie Weasley Tag List: @sungoddessra , @phantom-pheonix , @dccomicnerd-world , @marveltrash99 , @graymountaingal, @storiesbycaroline, @mytinybaguette , @garbdump , @utahjoerdis , @eldritchscreech , @fiiiinewine

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[survivingthejungle]

everybody wants to rule the world (caliban)

When Sabrina was 8 years old, her life got a little more unusual. Being a half witch raised by her two aunts and cousin (all full-blooded witches)  in a mortuary was not a common experience for most children. But things became different when another cousin, from her mother's side of the family, came to live in the Spellman house. Her mother, Diana, had a brother, William; WIlliam married and had a daughter just two years before Sabrina was born. She was named Genevieve Sawyer, and she and her paternal cousin had been very close to one another their entire lives. When it was heard that William had been shot and that Genevieve's mother was not fit to parent, the girl's cousin and family immediately stepped up to take her in and be her legal guardians. 

Despite Genevieve's unfortunate circumstances, she never lost her bright personality or kindness. She seemed to stick out like a sore thumb in the Spellman house from time to time, but it was a welcome change of pace for everyone who lived there. For the next eight years after she had gone to live with her cousins and aunts, she had grown into a compassionate, driven young lady. Growing with her were several pets she had acquired over the years. Genevieve had a special love for animals and so had adopted many. She had a spotted turtle named Tucker, whom she had rescued from getting run over by a truck one morning. She also had an orange tabby cat named Tex, a green budgie named Pico, and a blue pit bull terrier named Bambi. The latest addition to the family was an albino ball python, whom she was currently in the process of naming. 

"Genevieve. I mean it this time," scolded her aunt Zelda. "No more pets. You have barely enough space for them all, and I won't allow any more of this."

"No more, aunt Zelda. I got it. This guy is the last," she affirmed, gesturing with the snake which was slithering over her shoulders and down her left arm. Her aunt shuddered. 

"How you can allow that thing near you is beyond me."

"She's sweet!" she defended. "She's just curious."

"She stays in your room only. If I see a snake slithering about my house I won't hesitate to kill it."

"She won't go anywhere. Promise."

Once her aunt had finished scolding her and left her room, she turned her attention back to her new friend. "What do we call you, huh?" Genevieve said. She set the snake down on her bed and flipped on her record player against the wall to fill the silence, and an old Fleetwood Mac album started spinning. "Well," she said, "I have to take Bambi and Tex on a walk, so I guess we should put you in your tank, huh?" She moved the young albino to the mostly empty tank and placed the lid over it, promising, "I'll get you some decorations while I'm out." Then she put on a pair of socks, laced up her shoes, and grabbed two harnesses and leashes from the footboard of her bed, heading downstairs to find the only two of her pets that were mammals. "Morning, aunt Hilda," she greeted the small blonde woman.

"Oh, g'morning my love! Are you taking Tex and Bambi on a walk?"

"Yeah, once I find 'em." "Well you'll eat first, won't you?" She pointed to the table. "Some toast for you."

"You're the best," Genevieve said, sitting down to take a bite of it. The toast was covered with peanut butter and sliced bananas; simple, but a favorite of the girl's. She finished eating quickly and was off again in search of her cat and dog, finding them in the family room. Tex was lounging on the couch and Bambi had seemingly been banished by him, staring at the tabby from the ground. "You wanna go on a walk?" she said to them both, her voice increasing by about an octave. Bambi's ears perked up and her eyes widened; Tex hopped down from the couch and over to circle Genevieve's legs. "Hey auntie," she called into the kitchen, "Do you know where Beans went?"

"Yes," her aunt called back, "I believe she went to go see Harvey, Roz, and Theo?"

"Okay. Thank you!" She then strapped both of the harnesses onto Tex and Bambi and put them on their leashes, and then made their way outside to their usual walking route. About halfway through their walk she and her two companions made a detour to go to Harvey's garage, where Genevieve had guessed their band would be practicing and where her cousin had gone to find them. Heading around behind his house, she found the garage door unlocked and entered in to find the four of them seemingly discussing something important.

"'Vieve,"  Sabrina greeted as soon as she saw her cousin. "What's up?"

"I was walking Tex and Bambi," she responded, holding up the two leashes attached to both animals. "What's up with you?"

"Sabrina's trying to take us to Hell," Theo told her. 

Genevieve's eyebrows raised and she went to take a seat on the couch closest to her. "Why?" she asked Sabrina.

"Nick." She said his name sadly; she knew her cousin missed him a lot and felt guiltier every day she left him trapped there. "I think I found a way to get him out."

"But, like… He's still…" Genevieve trailed off, not knowing how to formulate her thoughts exactly. 

"Yes," she responded, knowing what the girl was getting at. "A flesh Acheron. But I might have a solution for that too."

—

Sabrina had brought the five of them through Dorian's portal to Hell with an incantation, where they landed on a cold, dark beach, coughing up the salt water that had gotten into their lungs. "Wait, so… Hell is a beach?" Harvey asked.

"The Shores of Sorrow," Sabrina whispered hauntingly. 

Theo stood up and pointed out at the water. "Guys. Look. What are those?" There were tall wooden structures standing above the waves, and from them came pained groans and wails. Hands were reaching out, desperate to grab whatever would come close to them. 

"They're the souls of the damned," called a deep, unfamiliar voice. The group turned their heads to look for the source, and saw a large sandcastle and someone walking out from behind it. He had blond hair and was wearing a flowing white shirt that he had left unbuttoned. "They drown as the tide rolls in. Over, and over," he said, looking out at them, "For all eternity."

"Bummer," Genevieve whispered to Roz.

"Hi," Sabrina greeted him as the group approached him. "We're looking for Lilith." He didn't respond. "Uh, Madame Satan? S-Queen of Hell?" The boy looked pointedly at her, on the verge of a smirk. "She's in Pandemonium, if you happen to know the way." He turned his head and pointed left. Sharp jaw, Genevieve thought. 

"All blood flows to Pandemonium." Sure enough, there was a large rock through which blood was flowing, that seemed to turn into a path further up the beach. "Follow the blood-red road where it flows, and there you'll find the throne of Hell," he instructed, still pointing. 

"Thanks," Sabrina said. He pushed his hair back from the wind blowing on the beach, smirk still present. What does he know that we don't? her cousin wondered.  "And you are?"

He seemed as if he were about to respond, but decided against it. "Never step off the road," he advised. He looked at their feet then. "It's clever you're wearing dead men's shoes. Though… any demon worth his salt can smell mortal flesh a mile away."

Genevieve's brows furrowed. "Ew." The boy glanced at her and then turned back to his project. 

"Come on," Sabrina said, "Let's go." The four trailed behind her, but Genevieve stayed still for a moment. "Hey! I like your sandcastle," she called to the boy. He looked back at her, intrigued. "Bye!" she waved. He lifted a hand in return, and she was on her way. 

— 

The journey through hell had been… adventurous, to say the least. Between the field of crucified people beating eaten by crows, to the forest with a magical flower and a bloodthirsty tin man, to a horrific mock-high school classroom, Genevieve and the others were exhausted, scared, and ready to go back to earth. After being rescued by Lilith's helper, a man dressed in a bellhop's outfit and being seated at some hellish feast, she and Sabrina began a conversation about getting Nick out of Hell and taking care of Theo's uncle's soul as well. The Infernal Kings weren't recognizing Lilith's newfound authority, so she struck a deal with Sabrina- the throne for her boyfriend and her friend's uncle. Sabrina, of course, agreed, and the process had begun.

— 

"Infernal court, I bid you welcome," Lilith greeted from the throne. The three demonic kings stood before her in wait. "The city of Pandemonium has an honored guest. May I present to the hordes, Sabrina Morningstar, daughter of Lucifer Morningstar." Sabrina walked to stand next to the woman and looked around the throne room. "In his absence, she has come to officially declare me Queen of Hell. Isn't that right, Sabrina?"

"Yes, that's right," she told them. 

"This is treason! Heresy!" the Kings protested. "Lilith is a concubine, not a queen. We do not recognize her. She was Lucifer's whore. The realms are in chaos, and the Earth, the Pit, the Heavens, the Cosmos, they all reject Lilith's claim to the throne."

"And who do you propose would rule?" she shot back. 

That was the million dollar question, it seemed, because the Kings got a nefarious look in their eyes. "All hail Caliban, Prince of Hell. Molded from the clay of the Pit itself, native son of the inferno, born to restore and rule our dark domain!"

"Hello again," said the supposed Prince Caliban, in yet another open top. He maintained the smug look on his face that he was wearing at their last encounter. 

"Uh, hi?" Sabrina said, mildly confused. 

"What is this?" Lilith questioned. "This is salvation," he told her. "Since the Dark Lord's desertion, the Nine Circles of Hell have been breaking down. I, Caliban, will restore stability and do what Lucifer failed to do… conquer the earth. Remake it as our Tenth Circle, and enslave the tribes of mortal and witch."

Before anyone else could get a word in edgewise, Genevieve spoke up. "No? You most certainly will not!" she said. He raised his eyebrows at her. "Dude. You're… you're not even a real person." Her brow furrowed. "Someone gets one good blast with a hairdryer and what happens? You dry up and crack?"

"I'm afraid that's not how it works, darling." He stepped closer. "Though you are clever for that." Yet another smirk. Smug bastard. Closer. And closer. 

She glared at him. "Thanks," she deadpanned. 

"You are pretty, for a mortal," he said to her. "Maybe I'll have mercy on you." He lifted a hand to beside her face and toyed with a strand of hair that had fallen out of her braid.

"Don't touch me." She slapped his hand away, and he stepped back. Sabrina and Lilith had been whispering to each other from the moment that Caliban revealed his plan. But now, she was seemingly comatic; her eyes and Nick's were both glazed over in red and they were both catatonic. But when her senses came back and her eyes returned to normal, she had adopted a newfound confidence. "No, we won't," she said to Lilith. "I am Sabrina Morningstar," she announced to the hordes, "And that throne is mine. By blood, and by birth."

"Here we go again," Harvey muttered. Genevieve chuckled. 

"Yours to give me, you mean," Lilith interjected. 

"No. Mine. To claim." She sat on the throne herself, and her cousin had to admit that she looked rather regal. 

"We do not accept this!" the Kings argued. "The witch lives on Earth. She cannot possibly rule Hell."

"You've obviously never been to high school."

"You are a child, not a queen," another King shot. 

"I am a young woman." Right on, her cousin thought. 

"You cannot fulfill your father's duties." "I can," she insisted, looking at Lilith. "With Lilith as my advisor." "What?" "Isn't that what kings and queens do when they're too young to rule?" she argued. "They appoint a…" "Regent," Lilith offered. "Yes. As a matter of fact, yes." "Then you, Lilith, are my regent."

"I dispute this." Caliban, of course. 

"Okay, Dirt-Man," Genevieve said. She had begun to harbor a deeply personal sense of loathing for him, especially because of how he disrespected her cousin's authority and was a raging narcissist. 

After an attempted challenge for the crown, Sabrina dismissed the court and he and his clique left Pandemonium. She and the rest of the group, along with Nick and his tongue, followed Dorian's instructions and used the flower and the incantation to return home. 

— 

Sabrina had royally fucked up— no pun intended. After fumbling her first soul retrieval and getting locked in an industrial freezer by her second, she was beginning to lose hope. And she was running out of time. While Lilith was out searching for the wayward queen, the clay prince decided to go on his own adventure.

— 

Genevieve was occupied in her cozy, bright room when a gust of spiraling flames interrupted her peace. She had been lying in her bed, reading a book and accompanied by all of her pets (which was a rare occurrence). Pico had nestled onto Tuck's shell and they were both napping. Bambi was curled up against her side and Tex at her feet, and the new snake— whose name, she decided, was Rhiannon— was also curled at the end of the bed. "Quite the companions you've got," he spoke deeply, disturbing the silence. "You!" she said, sitting up and starting all but the python. "What are you doing in my room?" she asked, exasperated. 

"Here to see you, of course," he told her, sitting down on the edge of her bed. Genevieve

was still perplexed. 

"...Why?"

"You amuse me, mortal. And you've caught my eye. Your friend may be the Queen of Hell—"

"Cousin," she corrected.

"Your cousin may be Queen, but it's you who's really captured my attention."

"I… Okay," she responded, brows furrowed.

"No one's ever spoken to me as boldly as you have. Especially for a mortal. If I wanted to punish you, in fact, it would be well within my rights. Even your cousin could not do anything about it; laws in Hell differ than on Earth."

"So, what. You're here to kill me? Because I threatened your ego?" Genevieve rolled her eyes and got up, Bambi following after her. She grabbed Rhiannon and carried her over to her tank, flipping the switch for her heater and closing the lid. She then grabbed Tuck, as gently as possible to allow him to keep napping, and put him in his tank as well.

"Of course not," he chuckled. "You're much too interesting. It would be a shame for your potential to go to waste." "Potential," she said, disinterested. Walking to her door, she slipped on a pair of shoes that sat against the wall. "For?"

"For you to align with me. You may not like me much now, but I'm sure you'll grow to."

"For me… I'm sorry, what? You expect me to betray my cousin for someone who wants to literally enslave my people and take over the Earth?" He said nothing. "No!" she waved her hand at him, signaling for him to leave. "Be gone. Or... whatever you say to banish demons." She left her room and headed down the hallway and to the stairs, but Caliban was not far behind. Neither was Bambi.

She made a pit stop in the kitchen to make herself a sandwich before she left the house. "Do you think me unreasonable?" Caliban asked, leaning against the counter while she worked. 

"Well, yeah. Actually I do." 

He grabbed her hand before she could continue. Making sure to never break eye contact, he pleaded, "Please. Let me prove you wrong." She pulled her hand away.

"Why are you so dead set on this?" she groaned. "I said no!" A frustrated laugh left her lips.

"I'll make you a deal," he pressed. She returned her attention to her sandwich and refused to look at him. "Submit to me, and I will abandon my plan to enslave the tribes of Earth." Still, silence. Genevieve pretended that he wasn't even there anymore, slipping Bambi a piece of turkey in between the two of them. Once again, Caliban brought his hand up and grabbed her chin; she couldn't turn away. 

"You won't get the chance," she spat. "My cousin is the Queen. Your plan will never happen." He opened his mouth to argue, but in a split second, decided against it. 

"If that's truly how you feel, then I concede. But know my offer still stands." Genevieve shrugged, straight-faced, unsure how to respond. 

"Will you leave now? I have somewhere to be," she told him, putting her sandwich in a baggie and walking to the kitchen table where a backpack was hanging off the back of a chair. 

"Will the lady allow me to escort her?" he countered. She threw her food, a water bottle, and a sports drink into the bag as she considered it. 

"Fine, I guess." She slung the backpack over her shoulder before kneeling down to scratch and kiss Bambi's head. "Bye, Bambi!" she said, her voice having gone up at least an octave. The blue pit thumped her tail and opened her mouth in a typical pit bull smile. Without a word, she stood up and passed Caliban to go retrieve her sneakers which were sitting by the front door. He followed, attentive to her every move. She locked the door behind her on her way out and began walking into town. 

"Where are you headed to?" he asked her.

"The gym. I coach junior high volleyball."

"Is that a mortal sport?"

"Yeah. I played for a long time."

"Why did you stop?" 

Genevieve stayed silent for a beat. "When I was still in high school, a few colleges wanted to recruit me for their teams. I would have gone to any of them, but…"

"But what?" "Well, I don't really know what I want to do with my life. I didn't want to just up and leave my family with no plan. So after I graduated this spring, I decided to take a gap year to figure out what I want to do."

"Have you figured it out yet?" he asked. His tone seemed genuinely interested. 

She stayed quiet for a while longer. "No," Genevieve admitted, dejectedly.

"Maybe you should work with animals," Caliban offered. "Really? Why?"

"You seem to like them enough, you've got several as pets."

"Yeah, that's fair. But I don't think I could ever be a vet," she claimed. 

"Then don't. Try something else."

"Like what?"

"You're the mortal here, not me," he chuckled. "You know more about your options than I do." Genevieve let out a little laugh as well. "Think about it," he advised her. 

"I will. Thank you, Caliban."

— 

Sabrina didn't return home until well past midnight. As she walked through the front door and quietly closed it, her cousin broke her silence from the stairs. "Where you been, Beans?"

Sabrina nearly jumped, startled. "I was— Oh, Aunties," she muttered, finally facing all three of them. 

"Well, do you care to explain yourself?" Zelda questioned. Sabrina glanced at Genevieve, who was leaning over the top of the banister and mouthed I didn't say anything.

"Oh, I'm sorry I missed your first day at the Academy," she apologized. "I had this prob-"

"How many secrets are you keeping from us?" Zelda interrupted.

Hilda piped up in typical good-cop fashion. "You didn't happen to go to Hell, bring back your father, the Dark Lord, and stick him in the bowels of the Academy without telling us, did you?"

"Putting what's left of the coven, not to mention the entire world, in grave peril, just so you can see your boyfriend." 

"That's not why I did it," Sabrina argued. 

"Oh, God. Here we go again," Genevieve muttered as Tex jumped up onto the bannister beside her. She gave his head an absent-minded scratch as she watched the scene unfold. 

"Oh, I know why you did it. Cassius delivered a stack of books with rituals about soul transference… I thought the Dark Lord was bad. I thought he was dangerous, but Lilith preserve up from his demented, lovesick daughter."

"Aunt Zelda!" Genevieve shouted. "That was so uncalled for!"

"I couldn't just leave Nick in Hell!" Sabrina defended herself. "Every second he was down there, he was in torment. Aunties, every second he was in pain."

"We know, darling," Hilda tried to comfort. 

"And it's my fault." Her cousin began to tear up with the thought of Nick's suffering. "He did it for me. I couldn't just… wash my hands of him." Hilda stepped off of the stairs and went to Sabrina to try to comfort her. "I owed it to Nick to at least try and get Lucifer out of his body and into someone else's."

Zelda had begun to abandon her condemnation of Sabrina's actions, instead demanding that she come up with a well thought-out plan. "Whose? Where do you expect to find another vessel strong enough to withstand being turned into a flesh Acheron for the Devil himself?"

In a moment of perfect timing, Ambrose and Prudence appeared in the front hallway with a raggedy, bearded man at their feet. "Aunties," he greeted. "I'm home." It was evident in his tone and lack of breath that he was exhausted. "Any chance of a cuppa?"

Genevieve went downstairs and followed her cousin and Prudence into the kitchen. 'Whatcha want, 'Bose?"

"Something to help me sleep, finally," he rasped. "Thank you, cousin." (They weren't really cousins, but it was how they had referred to each other since Genevieve had come to live with them those 8 years ago.)

"You too?" she asked Prudence. "Yes, please."

— 

  The next night, Sabrina returned home and immediately headed to Genevieve's room to de-stress from her arduous day. "That jerk Caliban challenged me for the throne," she sighed, laying down on Genevieve's bed. "Again. Legally, this time. And I had to accept it."

Her cousin took a deep breath. "Wow. He's really not letting it go, huh?"

"No. I wish he would, though."

"Well, what was the challenge? What do you have to do?"

"We're both supposed to search for the Unholy Regalia. It's a Hell thing," she explained at Genevieve's confusion. "The first item is Herod's Crown."

"H- King Herod? Like 'kill the babies' Herod?"

"That's the one."

"Jesus," Genevieve exhaled. "...No pun intended." She had been sitting on the floor with Rhiannon, watching as she explored the room, but stood up to sit next to her cousin. "Beans, you've got a lot on your plate right now. Are you sure you're gonna be okay?"

Sabrina considered her question for a moment. "No. Actually, I'm not sure. But I have to do this." She shut her eyes tight for a few seconds before opening them again and sitting upright. "And I have so much homework on top of this."

"You know what? I don't have anything to do tonight. You go to bed, I'll do your homework tonight." Sabrina smiled softly at her cousin. 

"Vieve, you don't have to do that—"

"I know. But I want to. You need to rest. Besides," Genevieve said, "I already got through all of those classes once. I can do a few assignments tonight."

— 

It was about eleven o'clock that same night and Genevieve was on a productive streak- in terms of getting her cousin's homework taken care of. She had advised Sabrina to talk to Ambrose the following day about looking for the crown and, subsequently, the rest of the regalia. In the midst of her focus, a gust of heat hit her and she could sense a presence in her room. She didn't even bother to turn around from her desk. "Go away, Caliban."

"I take it you've heard about my challenge, then?"

Genevieve set her pencil down and stared at him. "Do you have any idea the shit Sabrina's been going through, lately? I know you don't care, because all you want is power, but she's an actual person with other responsibilities and an entire life that she's dealing with on a daily basis. You're made of clay and you're from Hell, I get it, you must not have any sense of empathy, but this is taking a toll on everyone. You are such a raging narcissist." Caliban's smirk had dissipated by now. "Get out of my house, Caliban. I'm busy."

"You're wrong," he said. He was uncharacteristically quiet. "I can be empathetic." He sat down on the edge of Genevieve's bed, and Tex had allowed him to pet his head. "I do have emotions."

"Showing them from time to time might do you good." He said nothing, focusing his attention entirely on Tex rather than making eye contact with Genevieve. "Why are you here?" she asked, adopting a gentler tone. She felt as if she had been hard enough on him to get her point across. "Don't you have a crown to find, or something?"

"I've not yet located it. I was wondering if you've considered my offer?"

"Of course not," she scoffed. "I don't think you're gonna win. Beans may be busy, but she's smart. And talented."

"Well, she is the Dark Lord's daughter."

"Regardless. No, I haven't considered it. Is that all?"

"I hear there's a carnival in town."

Her brows furrowed momentarily. "What do you care?"

"Would it please the lady to accompany me? Tomorrow night?"

Genevieve went stiff like a deer in headlights. "Um… sure, okay. I guess?"

"You seem confused," he observed. 

"Yeah, I- I am. A little. Surprised. Why do you wanna go to the carnival?"

"Is this not how mortals court each other?" he asked, standing up to lean against the desk she had been working at. He seemed his usual self again, another smirk crossing his face. "Or would you rather skip the formalities?" He winked, grinning down at her. Though she was still sitting, it was obvious that he was taller than she was. 

She scoffed lightly. "Fine. I will go to the carnival with you tomorrow," Genevieve conceded. "Are you done now?"

"Are you sure you wouldn't have me spend the night?" he teased. 

"Don't push it, Dirt-Man."

"As you wish," he told her, and threw his arms up, creating a vortex of fire and returning to the pits of hell. 

— 

Genevieve finally retired to bed at about quarter till 1 in the morning. Rhiannon was cozy in her tank and Tuck was in his; Pico was sleeping in his cage and Tex was curled up at the foot of her bed. Bambi was laying with her back to Genevieve's, but the blue pit had been awoken by a sudden presence appearing in the room. In the dark, Caliban had returned once more to the girl, this time having astral projected. Bambi's head stuck up, sniffing at him. He put his finger up to his lips and whispered to the dog, "Shh." Bambi was convinced and went back to sleep, leaving the boy to himself. He walked around until he was facing her, and he knelt down at her bedside. He rested his head on one arm while his other hand brushed some stray hairs away from her face. She looked so peaceful he was almost afraid to touch her. "Sleep well, darling girl," he whispered. "And forgive me for what I must do." Without another word, he kissed her forehead and promptly returned to his physical body in Hell. 

[blake-belladonna-defence-force]

Mama Yang Headcanons

Yang refuses to be like Raven and does her best to be present for every milestone in her children lives.

She is both exasperated and endeared by the fact that Blake has taught the kids to be little sass monsters.

Blake and the kids are the only ones allowed to touch her hair.

She went into a state of numb shock when she saw their youngest sitting with a pair of scissors in hand and surrounded by hair.

The child looked like an electrocuted mad scientist.

They had to take their child to a hairdresser and the poor thing was so unhappy that they discovered their semblance and nearly burned down the entire salon.

Yang suddenly realises that this child might be taking after her.

She doesn’t know if she’s more proud or worried.

Yang always makes a Sunday roast for her family, including Ruby and Weiss.

Weiss and Blake usually end up in some sort of playful sass off by the end of the night and the rest of the family place bets on who wins.

Yang finds it hilarious when the kids bet against Blake because Blake hams it up and acts more betrayed that she actually is.

Yang’s favourite part of the day is when they’re all winding down for bed and she stands at the door and adoringly watches Blake sing to their children.

It’s a song that Blake came up with when their oldest started to suffer from night terrors and it stuck.

Contrary to popular belief, Yang’s the “bad cop.”

But Blake and Yang always stand on a united front.

This surprises no one.

Yang definitely teaches her kids that no means no.

Her rule when it comes to people making the kids uncomfortable is “give em 3 verbal warning. They don’t listen, then you can use force. But keep it minimal. A well placed punch or a kick will do.” Like she did with Shay D. Guy. She wants them to feel comfortable saying no and enforcing that no.

She finds it adorable that their oldest models themself after Blake.

The youngest models themself after Yang.

The middle child decides that Auntie Ruby and Auntie Weiss are their heroes and models themself after them.

Yang strives for trust and respect when it comes to being a parent.

She makes sure that the kids know that they can leave a situation if they feel uncomfortable.

She nearly has a panic attack the first time her child sneaks out.

But they remain calm and talk to the kid calmly and explain why they’re upset.

Yang uses the moon as a simple way of telling the kids that nanna Summer is watching over them (My parents did this with me when I was little. They told me to say hi to poppa and nanna every time we saw the moon. It’s kind of silly but I still say hello to them whenever I see the moon now as a 23 year old. This has extended to other relatives that pass away.)

Yang is that parent that embarrasses their kids around their friends.

She still buys them stuffed animals when they’re adults. She has no reason for this. She just likes to.

She doesn’t like it when the kids get into fights at school but she’s always a little proud when they win.

She throws the kids into the air. Blake is unbothered by this because she trusts Yang.

But it regularly terrifies strangers.

Yang and Blake eventually tell the kids about Adam when they’re old enough to understand. The kids all pull their mothers into a group hug and make various reassuring comments.

Yang ends up convincing Blake to get a dog for the kids but honestly, it’s more for her. They get a shiba inu.

The dog bonds to Blake, weirdly enough.

Yang thinks it’s both adorable and hilarious that Blake pulled the “I never wanted the damn dog! Keep it away from me!” card but can often be found napping with the dog snuggled up to her.

Blake definitely talks to the dog like it’s a person. Yang likes to tease her that it’s their fourth child.

Yang can and will break your arms if you harm one hair on her kids’ heads.

When their kids suitors visit, she and Blake make a point of polishing their weapons when they walk in.

They both are very sweet and friendly and welcoming to the kid but there’s always a certain undertone to their words.

Much like Blake, the kids never go one day without hearing Yang say I love you.