#if it has a screen A03 will be seen

[saltymarshmall0w]

Danny goes all the way to Gotham, finds the Batcave, stalks the bats long enough to figure out the passcode to the Batcomputer.

Just to do the "If there's a screen A03 will be seen." trend on Tiktok, not expecting it to blow up as big as it did.

How was he supposed to expect anything else? He was chronically unpopular for a hero, most of his tiktoks only got a solid 100 likes, entirely from the teenagers in Amity who were fans of him (something about him looking photoshopped or like AI?)

While Phantom and therefore Amity Park is under a microscope, a smart thing to do would be to lay low or cooperate with the heroes to show he's not a threat.

Instead, he posts a follow-up tiktok from The Watchtower

[notsosubtlequeer]

Happy holidays! @cowboy-bec I hope you like it <3

This was such a fun prompt to work with so thank you so much for letting me write for you. I got a bit sappy with it.

This was made for @phandomgiftexchange their event!

Here's the A03 link. Under the cut is the full fic as well. Merry Christmas <3

Something Precious

(1639 words)

“Hey, skink, look at this.”

They're curled up on the cream sofa in their living room, the thing large and intentionally selected for their long limbs to fit comfortably on.

They're sat pressed against each other in the very corner in spite of all of this. Dan is practically in Phil's lap as they both look at their phones.

Dan is watching a documentary on a species of seabirds, the commentator's voice drifting through their living room.

Phil as he tends to be, is scrolling his socials and trying to catch up on what their fanbase has been saying.

Now, he's shoving his phone into Dan's face, almost knocking it into his nose with the force of it all.

Dan, eyes squinting at the offending light-mode twitter layout, sees a piece of fan art.

He almost brushes it off as another sister Daniel piece when he looks again.

It's Phil. Dressed up in a nun costume not unlike the one he had in a bag in the back of his closet. The thigh high stockings and garter belts sketched onto art-Phil are different though. And so is the choker around his neck.

It looks nice. It's a good piece of art and nothing they haven't seen before.

“That's a cool drawing bub,” he mutters, already slumping back down to get back into his previous position of Phil's chin jabbing his temple as he lies against his chest.

He is stopped by Phil pushing the phone into his face gently.

The tip of his nose touches the screen and the image zooms in on the exposed thigh of art-Phil.

“It… would look good on you?” he tries.

Things like this are a little bit of a guessing game with Phil sometimes. Not that he minds. Far from it even.

“You think so?” comes the soft reply, and Dan knows he's cracked the code.

-

Despite Dan’s insistence on them being the exact same size, they know Phil won't fit comfortably into the Sister Daniel costume.

So, Dan goes on a hunt.

Many online shops that only ship to America and dodgy websites full of things he's decidedly NOT looking for later, he ends up with a decent selection.

He shows Phil when they're sitting on the couch a few days later, pasta with white sauce on deep plates carefully balanced on their laps. On a side table next to him, Dan has got a glass of red wine, while Phil has a glass of ribena he pinky promised Dan he wouldn't spill.

“What do you think of this one bub?”

Phil's fork pauses halfway to his mouth and he makes wide eyes at the costume Dan is showing him.

The woman who's wearing it looks into the camera with a sultry expression and Phil feels the need to avoid her eyes.

“I have some accessories too. Like in the drawing. Only if you want of course.”

There's silence then as he patiently waits for Phil to get his thoughts together. He knows how confusing and scary the whole gender expression ordeal is, and he knows that whatever Phil wants to accomplish with this new little adventure of his, Dan wants to make sure they get it right.

“I think that one would look nice yeah,” comes the soft reply from Phil, barely above a whisper as he studies the costume.

“I like the layers on the skirt.”

“You'd look so pretty, bub.”

“Hmmm. You think so?”

They chat quietly for a while as Dan shows Phil the accessories, and the latter agrees with every single piece he’s presented with, his skin tinged a light pink when it comes to picking a collar from Dan’s preferred selection.

After the conversation, they continue with their evening, sitting so close their thighs press against each other lightly and Phil's arm jostles when Dan moves, almost spilling the Ribena.

They talk about it again right before Dan places the orders. But for now it still feels light. Like another thing they're trying just because they can. Just because when it's just them, none of it feels heavy or strange, because how could it?

-

It's two weeks later and Dan has been kicked out of their bedroom.

He waits patiently. Busying himself with putting away the dishes and wiping the counter and table free of the few crumbs gathered there since morning.

He's about to get the bag of coffee beans out to refill their machine when Phil calls out to him.

“Can you come in here?”

He sounds small. And when Dan walks up the stairs and into their bedroom he looks it, too.

The expression on his partner's face iwas something timid and frightened, vulnerable and raw.

He's stood in just his pants, arms wrapped around his naked waist and eyes searching for Dan's.

Dan wanted to gather him up in his arms and protect him. Pepper his face with kisses until his eyes lose the fear that's swirling around in them.

“Hey bub,” he says instead. He walks over to where Phil is standing next to the bed. All the items that had arrived today are laid out neatly on the sheets.

“What's happening?”

“It's stupid but. I'm scared? Clothes aren't scary but…”

“Not stupid,” Dan replies automatically, and reaches past Phil to pick up the nun costume of the bed.

It's slightly more frilly than Dan's and has a few layers to the skirt. There's a hole in the shape of a heart right on the chest of the dress and Dan can already imagine running his hands over the milky white skin that would be peeking out of it.

“Let me help you?”

He gets a nod in return from Phil and then he's kneeling, the costume held in such a way that Phil can step into it easily.

His hands brush Phil's legs gently as he moves the garment up his body, quietly instructing him to hold it in place while he gets up and moves around so he can do up the zipper on Phil's back.

The moment is quiet and there's warmth roaring through Dan's chest like an inferno. Urging him on to touch, to kiss, to keep safe.

So he does.

He noses into Phil's hair as he does up the zipper of the costume. Presses a warm kiss on the junction of his shoulder and neck as he fastens the clip to keep the zipper in place.

Sneaks his arms around Phil’s waist as soon as he's done just holding him close.

“Dan,” Phil hums, voice dripping with fondness and sweet like honey.

“You look so pretty, love.”

Phil's face, neck and ears are flushed a lovely pink when Dan moves away to grab the other items still laid out on the bed.

The gloves are next, he helps Phil slip them on, fingers trailing over soft skin and barely-there freckles as he adjusts the elastic fabric. It digs slightly into the skin of Phil's forearms and Dan zeros in on it for such a long time that Phil slaps his arm playfully and tells him to get on with it.

Phil puts on the stockings himself, tracing the black cross embroidered onto the material before reaching for the next item.

Once everything is done, he looks up at Dan, who had been hovering by the closet rummaging through the barely used makeup supplies he had laying around.

“I was thinking some eyeshadow might be nice,” Phil says. And there's still the nervous edge to his voice but there's something else now too. Something fond and familiar. And Dan feels the inferno in his chest roaring to new heights.

“Okay,” he says simply, and he takes out a makeup palette.

Hovering over Phil like this, his face so open and trusting as Dan gently puts a bit of black eyeshadow on his lids, makes the inferno in his chest blaze to never before seen heights.

It's the trust of it all, he thinks.

It's how Phil from 5 years ago would have shrunk away at the very thought of putting on a dress as a joke, let alone as something more.

And it is.

There's something else underneath all of this that isn't just nerves for a jokey Instagram post.

The something that makes Phil's fingers shake when he tugs at the hem of the skirt.

The something that made his laugh bubble out of him, bright and unfiltered, as he looks at the slightly messy smokey eye Dan had given him.

The something that now, as the costume is fully complete, makes him wrap his arms around Dan's neck and lean into him.

Dan's own arms circle Phil's waist as if it's second nature and they sway gently. Standing pressed close together in the silence of their bedroom.

“We made it. Didn't we?”

It's a nonsense phrase that should have Dan confused.

But then he thinks about the time Phil tried makeup and he'd come into their lounge crying because he couldn't make it look right.

Then he thinks about a 19 year old boy in Manchester looking at the women's section in a clothing store and feeling a pang of jealousy at the amount of options they had.

Then he thinks about messily painted nails and makeup palettes long abandoned because he was too scared to use them. About the skirts that got sent their way for a ‘viewers pick my outfit’ video.

About how, when he'd first put on the sister Daniel costume, he'd felt like a part of his brain that was constantly screaming had suddenly gone quiet.

He'd felt sexy for the first time in a long long time and had felt open enough to share it with the world.

And then he thinks about Phil, and the paths they walked together, and he gets it.

“Yeah. We made it bub.”

[hammyham-o-o]

intro post??

⭐️⭐️⭐️

HELLOO random internet strangers that find this!

WOW it's been, what, a year since I joined tumblr?? MAN, time has FLOWN!

Disclaimer: I'm not AS obsessed with Hamilton as I was when I first made this blog, lol! But yes, it's still a TOP TIER musical, and yes, I will always love lams :P I just may not be reblogging as much Hamilton content as I used to!

Some of my other interests :]

Other musicals, like Epic, In the Heights, 21 Chump Street, and Funhome

Arcane (I haven't seen season 2 yet tho!!)

ASOUE

KOTLC

I Am Not Okay With This

Paper Girls

Heartstopper + the osemanverse

Mauraders

The Once and Future Witches (the best book EVER ahhh)

Amrev, of course :P

I love interacting with the silly little people on the other side of the screen! Feel free to ask or message my anything :D I'm not active all that often though, so I might not answer right away

To my wonderful moots:

THANKS YOU GUYS, I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!!!! You all are truly what has made being on this wacky website SO much fun <333

I'm not gonna tag everyone, but if you read this and wonder if it means you, YES IT DOES I PROMISE XD

My a03 is it_flies_at_night (I don't often write, but if you get comments or kudos HI it's me >:))

I doodle occasionally ^^ mostly lams ehehehehe

A great place to donate if you have the means to:

og intro after the cut bc I am nothing if not nostaglic haha

if you've somehow stumbled across my blog, there is a 99.99% chance you're just as obsessed with a musical about dead founding fathers as I am~

LETS GOOOOO HAMILTRASH UNITE

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

5 times Vi simped over Cait and 1 time she got Cait’s number

by makoto_neggy_thh

“One double chocolate chip frappuccino,” Vi read out, not paying attention to the customer as she glanced at a screen that showed orders behind the counter, focused on her next task to help the rest of the crew.

Well, at least she wasn’t paying attention until she felt the brush of smooth, warm fingertips against hers and she snapped her gaze towards the customer, heart skipping a beat.

Holy fucking shit.

Vi held the gaze of the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

OR

Vi is an absolute dumbass and has to make 5 mistakes before getting Caitlyn's number when at the end of the day... she just could have asked.

Words: 2783, Chapters: 1/6, Language: English

Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Vi (League of Legends), Caitlyn (League of Legends), Jinx (League of Legends), Ekko (League of Legends), Vander (League of Legends)

Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends), Caitlyn & Jinx (League of Legends)

Additional Tags: Fluff and Crack, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Vi-centric (League of Legends), Vi is a Little Shit (League of Legends), 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, what if they were happy, no beta we die like jinx

Read on A03. from AO3 works tagged ‘Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)’

[still-a-morosexual-help]

[NAME REDACTED]

summary: Mammon's list of gender-neutral nicknames to call the ((cute)) stupid customer who keeps ordering shitty drinks

[Fic on A03]

He could feel a bead of sweat trickle down his neck as he stared at them.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck-

Damnit.

He stared at them more, holding the freezing cup at arm's length, as he tried to will them to look at him. Maybe he had developed some kind of psychic power in the last 5 minutes?

Turn around. Turn around. Turn around.

Nope. No powers. They still sat hunched, eyes glued to their phone as they scrolled through it. He was just as human and useless as he was 5 minutes ago.

Fuck. Stupid.

It wasn't a big deal. 

It shouldn't be a big deal. 

But Lucifer.

But Lucifer was a perfectionist asshole with eyes and ears in every corner. Any minor slip up on Mammon's part would be taken as yet another typical grand failure.

But Lucifer had got him this job. Had pulled strings with his boyfriend's boss's friend. Had bent over backwards to promise Barbatos that letting Mammon work at his small yet beloved coffee shop wasn't a bad decision. That Mammon wouldn't screw this up like all the other jobs he's had. Like all the other chances he'd been given. 

But Lucifer had said this would be his last chance. He knew it wasn't. It had been his last chance the time before. And the time before that. And the time before that. Lucifer would sigh and yell and sigh again but he'd clean up Mammon's messes. Pay his debts. And give him another chance.

But. Mammon didn't want to mess up. He wanted to keep this job. Wanted to pay off his own debt for once. Wanted to make his big brother proud.

What he didn't want was to piss off Barbatos by destroying his self proclaimed Perfect Customer Service™ on his second day.

Fuck.

This was all their fault. What special kind of dumbass ordered this ice blended caramel, chocolate caffeine monstrosity in the dead of winter anyway.

He took a breath. The chill of the drink was starting to numb his fingers, and condensation was forming on the sides of the cup. Fuck. Okay, he needed to get this over with. He opened his mouth,

"HEY, DUMBASS!"

FUCK.

The person stopped. Their frozen finger hovering over their screen before slowly, with robotic motions, they looked up to stare him dead in the eye. Again, with stilted movement, they looked around the empty shop before turning back to him.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck- 

Mammon's fingers trembled around the still awkwardly outstretched cup. His face flushed and he bit his cheek to stop his eyes from tearing up out of pure frustration. Why didn't he ever think before he spoke. Why was he so stu-

"Thank you."

Mammon blinked. 

They gently took the cup from his grip, face breaking out in a bright smile that crinkled their nose. "I've heard a lot of mispronounced names but Dumbass has gotta be a whole new one."

Mammon floundered. "I - uh -"

"Is it the beanie?" They cut him off, pointing at what was probably the ugliest, most misshapen, thing he had ever seen, sitting atop their head. "I made it myself," they said, beaming proudly.

"Was the drink. 'S cold," he answered in a bit of a stupor.

"Ah," they said, nodding wisely. 

They stared at each other for an hour long 5 seconds, Mammon resisting the urge to bounce on his heels, to say something while their grin transformed into something smaller, softer. 

"Well," they jiggled their cup making the icy liquid slosh against the cap, "I'll be going then. See you."

"See ya."

And they were gone.

His face burned.

 -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

He could feel a bead of sweat trickle down his neck as he stared at them.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck-

Damnit.

It wasn't his fault. It wasn't. There had been a rush and he'd let his body work on autopilot as his mind had drifted to more interesting things. Specifically, payday. It made sense that he'd miss a name or two.

He glared at their turned back. Trying to drag their name out from whatever corner of his mind it had vanished to, he eyed the unintelligible squiggles he'd written on the side of the cup. He took a breath. Opened his mouth,

"OI RED!"

Christ what was wrong with him.

Their head snapped his way and oh. His gaze drifted down to the monstrosity in his hand. 

Oh.

His ears were already red when he looked at the same bright smile he had seen just a week prior. 

"I THOUGHT I WAS DUMBASS?" They yelled back from their seat across the cafe, seemingly taking no note of the audience they had gained.

With a snort and his own lopsided grin he waved them over. 

"Ya hoodie was so bright it overwhelmed the stupidity of ya drink."

They tugged at the offensively red hoodie in question. "That's fair."

"Ya made that too?"

"I'm honoured you have such faith in my craft."

He didn't know eyes could twinkle in real life. Wasn't that just something for Satan's books or Levi's anime. 

"It wasn't a compliment," he replied, a bit numbly as they smiled once more and turned around with a "See you."

 -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

He stared at them and they stared back evenly. Shit. How'd he miss their name a third time!?

Taking a breath, 

"YO HUMAN!"

Even from across the room, he could hear the unflattering snort. It made something in his stomach flutter.

"Is this cause you're a demon?" They ask as they near the counter.

"What."

"Your name," they say, "Mammon. Isn't that demonic? Something about money?"

"How'd ya know my name!" He doesn't mean to snap but all he hears is Loan Shark. Loan Shark. Loan Shark. Loan Sha-

"Your nametag, dumbass." They say, tapping at their own chest.

Oh.

"Oh. Ya not a loan shark."

"Nope."

"Ah. Ugh...our father."

"What?" Their head tilts slightly.

Shit. Why was that cute.

"Guy was really religious. Decided to celebrate that by naming all his kids after demons. Ya should meet Lucifer, bastard really lives up to his name. Actually. Wait. Don't. Ya shouldn't meet him. You'd probably fall in love with him."

"Big guy? Grumpy face?"

"...ya know him?"

They shook their head. "I know Barbatos and Diavolo. Only met Lucifer a couple of times," they hum to themselves "didn't really fall in love with him."

"Good."

"Good?"

"I- um- ah that is!" Shit shit his face was heating up "he's such an asshole! And ya deserve a dumbass! Cause of ya...dumbassery..." He needed to throw himself in front of a speeding vehicle.

They smiled, nodding like he had said something profound instead of whatever word vomit he had just spewed, "You're right. I do deserve a dumbass. Thank you, Mammon."

They smile sweetly before heading out and Mammon is left feeling like he missed something monumental.  

 -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Hey, Dummy! Gotcha caffeinated cavity in a cup right here."

"You're the best, Mammon!"

"I...am? Ah! Course I am! I'm The Great Mammon, after all! What'd ya do without me!"

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Here you go, you gremlin. Enjoy."

Their smile is bright as ever. His heart threatens to burst.

 -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Hey tiny! Ya hear?"

"Mammon, you're barely any taller than me!"

"Yeah, yeah, keep living in ya fantasy world! Now, did ya hear? 'Bout the vacation."

"Diavolo mentioned it. It'll be fun to meet the rest of your brothers."

"Pfffttt yeah right! Listen, ya knew me first so ya gotta spend time with me. I still needta figure out ya name. I can't have those jerks beatin' me to it!"

"Ah, sure Mammon. Anything to please my favourite barista."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Ya still on for movie night?"

"Horror?"

"NO!"

"Why not? You're cute when you cling on to me and cry."

"Dick."

 -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Can't ya ever order anythin' else, brat?"

"Nope."

 -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Darlin',"

"Love,"

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

He wrapped his arms around their waist and hooked his chin over their shoulder. He could hear his brothers moving about the house. The smell of frying bacon probably waking them. 

"Babe." He said.

"Dumbass." They replied.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_‐_-

"Mine." He growled.

"Mine." They whispered.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"And this," he'd say to anyone who'd listen, "is my partner in crime."

->

[First Posted: 28th July 2020]

[Fic on AO3]

[mejcinta]

Don’t know how true this is but hey there were rumours that Alicent would betray the Greens by the end of S2 and that turned out to be true so anything goes now!

Anyway, there’s a rumour that they’re going to keep Jace around a bit longer because Harry’s popular with younger demographics, a bit like how GoT gave Richard Madden more screen time than actual PoV characters.

So it got me thinking, is this the real reason they had Alicent give up Kingslanding to Rhaenyra? After all in the books it’s Jace’s death that triggers her attack on the capital, but now Alicent’s handed it to her on a silver platter.

Did this “feminist” show screw over one of their female leads, cause GRRM to have a mental breakdown, annihilate Team Green, destroy the very foundation of the Dance just so a bunch of horny 20 somethings can enjoy some more screen time of a pretty boy???

God give me strength but if Jace doesn’t die in the first episode of S3 then I was right. I would cry if this wasn’t so comically insane yet in character for these writers 🙈

I still think the Dragonstone scene is rhaenicent fueled, because instead of basing the Dance on Rhaenyra and her relationship with her BROTHER, the second claimant to the throne that is arguably her doom, they instead want to push a feminist agenda in which prophecy rules the day and Alicent is a mediator that has seen the light and tries to help Rhaenyra bring the feminist utopia into effect but in the end the patriarchy tragically quashes their attempt and alters the history against Rhaenyra. Love could have won, but MEN destroyed it boo hoo.

Keeping Jace around is probably a byproduct of fucking up the episode count of season 2. Plus, Jace has not really had significant character development for his death to matter to us at this stage. Sara was cut, Cregan appeared only once and he barely has a relationship with Baela.

I am not opposed to Jace staying a bit longer. I think he couldget time to be redeemed from his petty hatred of the dragonseeds. He could become more friendly with them, train them, grow closer to Baela and Rhaenyra, rule on Dragonstone a little while then challenge his mother's shortsightedness when it comes to Alicent before finally, FINALLY, flying to his little brothers' rescue at the Gullet only to be killed. That emotional weight is much better, than briskly killing him off in episode 1 of season3.

Trust! Sara and Ryan HATE Rhaenyra and Alicent's children. Jace was made a mewing bitch who challenges Rhaenyra's decisions and Alicent's sons were suddenly turned into one note villains (rAtcAtchers, shArp pOInt) to JUSTIFY her betrayal on Dragonstone.

They are nothing but obstacles to Ryan and Sara who just want to write their feminist forward, sapphic love triangle a03 fic featuring Mysaria lmaooo.

I mean, I wish the show was deeper and more nuanced like in season 1 but it sadly isn't now because the writers we have now are untalented, superficial twats who want to force their way instead of adapting GRRM's story.

Long story short, I don't think they butchered Alicent for Jace. Everybody in this story clearly suffers when Rhaenyra the Mary Sue comes anywhere near them.

[star55]

Fic: Misfits and Mishaps - Chapter Four

Title: Misfits and Mishaps Author: Star Chapter: Four/Twelve Word Count: 5,821/47,000+ Pairing: Cait/Vi Fandom: Arcane (League of Legends) Rating: Teen and up Chapter Warnings: none

Read on A03

Chapter Four

Caitlyn is in the car on the way to visit Jayce at the lab when her phone buzzes in her pocket. She hopes it isn’t Jayce cancelling, she hasn’t seen in him a few weeks and wants to catch him up on the fact that she’s been in detention. He’ll get a kick out of that, she knows he will.

To her surprise, it’s Vi. They haven’t texted much since most of their time has been spent together in detention, but on Friday after their skipped class, they exchanged phone numbers. Vi said it’s because she tends to share a phone with her siblings – they each take it with them if they go out of the house alone. Which Caitlyn thinks is smart. It’s also a good way to stay off social media, she muses. Which she tries to do for herself, too.

Vi: Powder says thanks for the present. Attached is a photo of Powder using the art supplies that Caitlyn had gifted her. She has a smile on her face, but she isn’t looking at the camera, too focused on what she’s doing.

Caitlyn can’t help but smile at the photo, too. She was glad she got to be there for Powder’s birthday. After a few guests had left, Powder started asking Caitlyn all kinds of questions about what she liked, and what she did, and Caitlyn was more than happy to answer them. She liked how inquisitive Powder was. Vi was right – she was very smart. Caitlyn can’t help but think Powder and Viktor would get along. Even though her chaotic eleven-year-old energy might be a little too much for his introverted self.

Caitlyn’s thumbs fly across her screen as she types out a response.

Caitlyn: I’m glad she’s enjoying herself. Thank you for the cake, too. I had it with breakfast this morning.

She swipes over to her photo album, looking at the few photos she took of herself, Vi, and their afternoon yesterday. Caitlyn can’t remember the last time she had so much fun. It was all so normal. There was no Council members and their underhanded comments. There weren’t any important societal men trying to set her up with their sons – something she’s never been interested in. All of the sons of these men were all so boring to Caitlyn. She wants someone fun and exciting to talk to. Not talk about… whatever it is the boys talk about. She isn’t interested in that. She wants someone who will share her interests and someone she can share their interests, too. And every time one of those sons learns that she’s the best marksman for her age in the entirety of Runeterra, the conversations always die off.

So whenever there is a social event she absolutely has to attend, Caitlyn tries to stay by Jayce’s side as much as possible. She loves him like the brother she never had. He’s funny, kind, smart, and he cares about what she has to say.

She’s glad her parents chose him as their patron all those years ago.

Her phone buzzes again.

Vi: Cake for breakfast? Living up to your nickname there, Cupcake.

Caitlyn shakes her head and texts back.

Caitlyn: It’s unfair you have a nickname for me, I need one for you, too.

Her thumb taps on the dark screen, waiting for a text back.

Vi You’ll just have to keep thinking about it.

It buzzes again a second later.

Vi: Are you doing anything for Halloween? We’re going trick or treating in the Lanes. You can come if you want?

Caitlyn is typing out an emphatic “Yes!” before she even knows what her parents have on the social calendar for Halloween.

She swipes over to their shared calendar and sees that it is, thankfully, blank. Her father tends to work the night shift at Piltover General Hospital on Halloween, but she couldn’t be certain her mother didn’t have anything on the schedule already.

Tapping on the date, Caitlyn pops in her own entry of “Trick or Treating with Vi” and saving it. Her parents might not see the entry, but it’s there in case they look. Hopefully nothing will crop up between now and then.

Vi: Don’t forget to dress up as something scary! Powder wants us to do a family costume, so we’re all dressing up as werewolves.

Caitlyn smiles to herself as she pictures Powder as a werewolf. Then her mind shifts to Vi as a werewolf and her heart thuds a little harder in her chest, picturing Vi with fangs.

Fangs, Caitlyn thinks. She has the perfect costume idea. Thankfully she has most of the outfit at home already, she just needs to pick up something else to complete it.

The car pulls up outside of Jayce’s lab before Caitlyn knows it. She says goodbye to her driver and steps out, sliding her bag onto her shoulder as she goes, making sure not to jostle the box she’s carrying as well. She waves to the doorman and bypasses the information desk as she heads to the elevators. She uses her all-access pass – a Kiramman perk – and punches in the code to Jayce’s lab.

He’s such a paranoid nerd at times, she thinks as she rides the elevator up. Thankfully no one else gets on and she steps out onto his floor a few moments later.

“Jayce?” she calls out as she enters, not seeing him straight away.

“Just a sec!” Jayce calls back.

Caitlyn sets the box on a clear space of desk and waits. She looks around, taking in the details of the blackboard covered in Jayce and Viktor’s writing. It is a lot more crowded than the last time Caitlyn was here a few weeks ago. She’s positive that there was only half the blackboard filled when she was here last.

“Hey, Sprout! Sorry about the wait,” Jayce says as he wanders into the room. He has a mug full of coffee in one hand and what she hopes is a cup of tea for her in the other. “But I remembered your tea, milady.”

She rolls her eyes at him fondly. “Thank you.” She takes it from him and puts it next to the box of treats she brought with her. “This is all new,” she says, gesturing to the blackboard.

He nods. “Vik and I are working on a new design,” he starts. He launches into an explanation of what it is, and what they hope to achieve. Caitlyn wonders if he notices that he smiles every single time he mentions Viktor’s name.

“Well, it’s good to see my parents’ money is being well spent,” she says with a cheeky half smile in his direction when he pauses to take a breath.

“Sorry,” he says, scratching at the side back of his neck. “I got a little carried away.”

“It’s good. I like how passionate you are,” Caitlyn replies. “How is Viktor anyway?”

“He’s good. He’s at the doctors at the moment for some more pain medication,” Jayce replies.

“And have you told him you want to kiss him senseless yet?” Caitlyn asks. She reaches over to open the box of bakery treats she brought with her and selects a pink glazed doughnut.

“What? I… No,” he says on a sigh.

“You should get on that,” Caitlyn comments. “Before you spontaneously kiss him and take him by surprise.”

“Ha ha,” Jayce says, reaching into the box for a doughnut of his own. He takes a big bite and washes it down with a swig of his coffee. He promptly makes a face when he realises it’s cold. Caitlyn’s tea, however, was finished while he talked. “I’m just going to go heat this up. When I get back, I want to hear about what you’ve been up to.”

“Hmm, yes,” Caitlyn says. “It’s all very exciting over in the Kiramman house.”

“I notice that sarcasm, Cait,” he says as he disappears from view.

Caitlyn smiles to herself and picks another doughnut to eat. She’s just taken a mouthful when her phone buzzes in her pocket.

Vi: Piltie. Heard you’re trick or treating with us? What are you going as? I can’t have you being cooler than me.

Caitlyn frowns at the phone. She figures this isn’t Vi, and she didn’t really get a chance to talk to Claggor all that much. So she figures that it’s Mylo.

Caitlyn: I haven’t decided yet. But I doubt I’ll be cooler than a family of werewolves.

She doesn’t mind lying to Mylo about this. He doesn’t need to know what she’s going to be. Plus, she wants to see the look on Vi’s face when she sees her costume for the first time.

Vi: I’m not going as a werewolf. Family costumes are for when we’re kids. I’m going as a rock star.

Caitlyn: Then you’ll definitely be cooler than me.

Vi: And don’t you forget it. Vi says you have dogs. Can I have a photo?

Caitlyn smiles as she sends off a photo of her precious dogs. It’s a photo she took that morning after they’d gone for their morning run. Bullet’s head is resting on top of Trigger’s and they look so cute.

Vi: They’re huge!

Caitlyn: The one on the left is Bullet, the one on the right is Trigger. They’re big babies.

Vi: Remind me not to break into your place.

Caitlyn: Please don’t. Tell Vi she still owes me an answer, too.

Vi: ?? An answer for what??

Caitlyn: She knows what.

“Who are you texting?” Jayce asks as he walks back into the room. “A boy?”

Caitlyn reflexively makes a face. She isn’t interested in Mylo like that.

“Not a boy then?” Jayce counters. He sits down opposite her at the table and picks another doughnut from the box.

“It was a boy, but that’s only because he was the one with the family phone,” Caitlyn replies. “I definitely don’t like him like that.”

“A family phone?” Jayce asks. “Care to elaborate?”

“My friend Vi and her siblings all share a phone,” Caitlyn explains as she peels off chocolate icing with her thumb. “It was her brother, Mylo, who was texting me about Halloween just now.”

“I think you need to take a few steps back. Who’s Vi? And Mylo? And you have Halloween plans? Cait, that’s huge!”

When he says it like that, it makes Caitlyn feel like a friendless loser. She is a bit like that, but Jayce’s enthusiasm is just a stark reminder of what her life was like before Vi came into it.

“Vi’s a girl I met in detention,” she replies. “Well, technically the bathrooms at school.”

“Detention?” Jayce exclaims. “Cait, you had detention?”

She nods. “Two weeks’ worth.”

“What did you do to deserve detention?”

“Called Mr Edwards a bigot to his face. And then to the principal’s face.”

Jayce’s bug-eyed expression makes Caitlyn giggle. He puts his doughnut down and wipes his fingers on his trousers. “I’m going to need you to take it from the top.”

So Caitlyn does. She tells him about how she started noticing all of the little biases that certain teachers had towards the Zaun students. She explains how she got sent to the principal’s office, how her mother was proud of her for standing up for what was right (that bit still makes her chest ache with happiness) and how she’s spent every lunchtime detention with Vi, though she never knows��why Vi is in detention in the first place considering they can’t all be uniform violations. Caitlyn’s been keeping close attention. She knows there was nothing wrong with Vi’s uniform on Thursday or Friday, so she was there for other reasons she didn’t elaborate on.

“And then I went to her sister’s birthday party yesterday,” Caitlyn continues. She mentions about Powder and shows the photo Vi had sent earlier of Powder with her gift.

When she finishes, Jayce is giving her a puzzled look.

“Do I have something on my face?” she asks, reaching for a paper napkin and wiping at her mouth.

“Cait,” Jayce starts slowly, like he’s trying to figure out how exactly to say what is on his mind. She’s seen this look on his face before – he’s working through something and about to come to a big realisation.

“Do you like her?”

“Vi? Of course! She’s great,” Caitlyn replies. “She’s really funny, and she doesn’t treat me the way everyone else does because of my name.”

“No, Cait. I mean. Do you like her?” Jayce repeats.

Caitlyn blinks at him. “What?” she says softly. He gives her a soft smile.

“It sounds like you have a crush,” he says.

“I don’t?” She doesn’t think she does? She’s never actually had a crush before. She figures it will happen eventually. A lot of the girls in her year level started talking about boys a few years ago, but Caitlyn never saw the appeal. There wasn’t a single boy who was cute enough, or worth her attention enough to consider giggling over like some of the other girls did.

“You know how you tease me about Viktor?” Jayce begins, still in a quieter tone than before. “You’re talking about Vi like that.”

Caitlyn feels her face heat up. She looks away, focusing on the blackboard full of scientific scribbles and formulae like it will give her the answer she’s looking for. Like the one Jayce is expecting of her.

Caitlyn bites her lip. She likes Vi – of course she does! Vi is wonderful. She’s smart, she’s kind, she has a massive heart. Caitlyn can tell that with every time she talks about her family. She’s thoughtful and doesn’t tease Caitlyn for being a Kiramman. And she stood up for Caitlyn against Asher in the bathrooms when they’d only just met.

And she has the loveliest smile Caitlyn has ever seen. It lights up her whole face when she thinks no one is looking. She can go from handsome to beautiful if she turns her head just right. And she’s tactile. Caitlyn doesn’t normally like people touching her without her permission, but Vi’s touch doesn’t make her feel itchy inside. It’s comforting. Like when their knees knock together as they sit, or when Vi put her arm around Caitlyn’s shoulder.

“Oh.”

Jayce’s hand reaches out and he puts it on top of hers. “Welcome to the gay club, kiddo! We have jackets.”

“Do you have a jacket?” Caitlyn asks, raising an eyebrow in his direction, knowing full well that it’s something Jayce would do.

“…I. Yes,” he says, sounding resigned.

Caitlyn bursts out laughing. “Then I’ll have a jacket, too,” she replies. “Then we can match like the siblings we are.”

He beams at her. “I have so many ideas.”

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” Caitlyn asks, sounding resigned. “I feel like I’m going to regret this.”

“Not at all,” Jayce says, but his thumbs are moving quickly over his phone and Caitlyn knows he’s about to ask for her measurements, so she derails him with the only piece of her story she hasn’t shared.

“I met Mel’s girlfriend yesterday.”

Jayce’s head shoots up, phone forgotten. “Sevika? She’s quite severe, isn’t she?”

Caitlyn shakes her head. “I didn’t really get to talk to her, but she’s Vi’s aunt.”

“Small world,” Jayce comments. “I guess the fruit doesn’t really fall far from the tree.” He bursts out laughing at his own joke and Caitlyn has no choice but to throw the balled-up napkin at his head. It hits, because she never misses, and he swats at it.

“Why do I put up with your terrible jokes?” Caitlyn grumbles as she closes the box of goodies up and pushing it towards Jayce’s side of the table.

“Because I’m the best big brother in the world,” Jayce replies. “But hey. I’m proud of you. You know that right?”

Caitlyn nods. “I know.”

“And not just for being queer,” he says. “But when you figure out a label, let me know, I want to order that jacket.”

Caitlyn can’t help but smile, grateful that she has Jayce in her life.

~*~

Caitlyn’s surprised when Vi slides into the seat next to her during her Monday detention. Her heart thuds a little in her chest as she takes in Vi’s appearance, mentally checking what’s wrong with her uniform but finding nothing out of the ordinary.

“Why are you here?” Caitlyn asks. “You said you were finished with detention.”

Vi shrugs and rolls up her shirt sleeve, showing off her pen ink covered right arm. “I got bored during biology.”

Caitlyn shakes her head, biting back a smile. “These are really cool,” she says, turning her body so she’s facing Vi. She gets a closer look at the little figures Vi has drawn on her arm. There are flowers, trees, people. It’s a mishmash of things, but somehow it suits Vi a lot.

“I thought I’d start practicing for when I get a tattoo,” Vi comments casually.

“You want a tattoo?”

Vi nods. “I’ve been designing pieces for years,” she replies. “Remind me to show you sometime.”

“Miss Kiramman, Miss Wolfe. Might I remind you both that this is detention,” Mrs Walker says with a sigh. She gives them a pointed look and sits down at the desk at the head of the room.

“This one is my favourite,” Caitlyn whispers when Mrs Walker opens her laptop to work. Caitlyn’s finger traces a rather large flower head that Vi drew on the inside of her arm. “I have an idea.” Without waiting for an answer, Caitlyn pulls out her pencil case and chooses a purple marker. She uncaps it and starts to colour in the petals. She takes her time, making sure to stay within the lines that Vi has already drawn. She switches out between a few different shades of purple markers, making sure to get the shading as best as she can. Vi really is a wonderful artist, she thinks as she finishes up the last petal.

She’s so focused that she doesn’t register how still Vi is until she looks up. Vi’s cheeks flush as their gazes meet and lock. She licks her lips and Caitlyn can’t help but stare.

“Uh, it looks good, Cupcake,” Vi says. “Thanks.”

Caitlyn nods. She puts the marker back in its spot and zips her pencil case up. Her heart is thudding in her chest and she isn’t sure why.

They’re silent for the rest of detention.

When Caitlyn gets home that day, she sequesters herself in her room with her laptop and opens an incognito window. Hoping that she doesn’t get anything that will scar her, she types in “how do I know I’m lesbian?”

She clicks through, reading articles and opinion pieces and even doing quizzes. It wasn’t something she’d really thought of before. She just figured that she was a late bloomer – seeing as she only got her period a few days after her fifteenth birthday, and she just would grow into liking boys like many others seemed to.

She knows that Runeterra is a widely diverse place, that there are many sexualities and genders, so she shouldn’t be thinking that liking boys is the norm, but it’s still there, in society, with heterosexuality being the most common sexuality.

Mel’s voice pops into her head, saying the word butch with such a loving timbre to her voice. That goes into the search bar next. And what she sees is Vi. Not photos of Vi, of course, but people who look like her.

She notices that most butches in these photos tend to have femme girlfriends, but Caitlyn doesn’t consider herself femme. Not really. The femmes in all of these photos are wearing makeup, and dresses or skirts. Even outside of her uniform – which is thankfully shorts or trousers – she doesn’t wear dresses or skirts that often. They’re not ideal for someone like her who runs a lot, who has shooting as one of her main sports.

Trying to find a label for herself outside of lesbian is proving more difficult than she hoped it would, so she closes her laptop. She heaves a sigh and Bullet looks up from the end of her bed where he’s resting. Trigger is asleep on the floor on his back his legs in the air – the only time he sleeps like that is in her room. She leans over, scratching at Bullet’s head, getting the spot behind his ears that she knows he loves. He yawns widely and gives her a happy smile. She leans over and kisses the top of his head.

She takes out her phone and snaps some photos of him, and of Trigger, who has started dreaming, his legs kicking in the air. She does a quick video and saves it, knowing that she can hear her own giggling in the video. But she sends all of them to Vi, even though she knows Vi might not get them, that Mylo or even Claggor could get them. She just hopes Vi sees them eventually and that it makes her smile.

Thinking of Vi makes her think of what Vi would say if she found out that Caitlyn is lesbian. She already knows Vi is – if Powder’s comment hadn’t confirmed it, the fact that Vi had hooked up with Asher in the past was a clear indicator, too.

Caitlyn can’t help but wonder if Asher is the type of girl Vi likes – hyper femme. Asher loves all her makeup and skirts and being as cute as possible. She’s completely different to Caitlyn.

She’s getting ahead of herself. She doesn’t even know if Vi is interested in her. She sighs and shakes her head. She’s being silly. Of course Vi doesn’t like her like that. They’re just friends. Nothing more.

That thought hurts more than Caitlyn would like to admit.

~*~

“Whoa! You have red eyes!” Powder exclaims as she looks up at Caitlyn. Caitlyn gives her a smile, showing off her full fangs. “Your fangs look so good!” she jabbers excitedly.

Caitlyn feels warm at that compliment. It was easy to decide to be a vampire for her costume. She already has a cloak that is a deep navy colour – it’s her House colours, and has the House emblem on the back, but it makes her look like a vampire. She was teased about it by some girls in her year level when they first saw it last year, but it feels right to reclaim that vampiric nature for tonight’s outing. Getting red contact lenses and the fangs was also easy for Caitlyn, and it completes her look. She feels bad that it isn’t as an elaborate costume as other people have, but vampires tend to wear normal clothes and just have fangs and different coloured eyes. So her white shirt and black trousers basic outfit underneath the cloak isn’t out of place, which she’s thankful for.

She’s still standing on the front porch of Vi’s family home, as Powder jabbers as she was the one to answer the door, in all her werewolf glory. She has fur stuck to her cheeks and everything. She looks like a cute puppy, really.

“You look great, Powder,” she says as Powder finally steps aside to let her in. She takes Caitlyn’s hand and leads her into the house much like she did during her birthday party. She hasn’t seen Powder since then, but Vi has texted her photos every now and then of her family members, and Caitlyn has done the same but with photos of her dogs.

“Thanks! Dad helped me stick my fur on because Vi was too busy doing her own,” Powder replies. Her entire costume is cute and Caitlyn wants to take some photos before they head out into the neighbourhood.

Caitlyn is led into the kitchen where Vi and Vander are putting some glow in the dark stickers on their trick or treat buckets.

“Cait!” Vi exclaims as she looks up. “Whoa, your eyes look so cool!”

Caitlyn smiles. “Powder said the same.”

“You should see her fangs, Vi! They’re way cooler than mine,” Powder exclaims. Caitlyn promptly bares her teeth, showing off her faux fangs and Vi smiles.

“They’re cool but we have cool fangs too, Pow,” Vi says, gesturing to the kitchen table where a few pairs of stick-in fangs rest.

“Are you lot ready, then?” Vander asks. He passes Caitlyn a bucket and she smiles at him.

Powder nods excitedly, her little wolf ears on top of her head looking too cute amongst all of her hair.

“Mylo and Claggor aren’t coming with us anymore,” Vi says. “They’re both at the arcade to pass out candy there. So it’s just us.”

Caitlyn nods. “Us girls will have more fun anyway,” she says conspiratorially, giving Powder a wink. Powder grins at her and gives Vander a big hug before grabbing her bucket off the table. It has her name on it in big glittery stickers.

“Take care of each other, and have fun,” Vander says. “And call if you need anything.”

“We will, Dad,” Vi says. She gives him a hug and rubs over the back of her hair with one of his hands. She swats at him, smiling, and smooths her hair back down. Her own wolf ear headband is nestled among her pink hair, which is out of its usual slicked back style and is messier. Caitlyn figures it’s to hide the headband better, but she has to admit, it looks good.

“Let’s go then,” Vi says.

Powder grabs Caitlyn’s free hand and leads her out the door. She feels a rush of affection for this little girl, wondering what Vi has said to Powder about her for her to be so kind towards Caitlyn.

Powder jabbers excitedly as they walk, telling her facts about all of their neighbours. She mentions where Sevika is and Caitlyn nods along. “But she’s not home. She and her girlfriend are spending the night at some fancy event in Piltover. Hey, why aren’t you at that event?”

“Thankfully it’s not for kids, just for adults,” Caitlyn replies. Powder starts swinging their joined hands. “My mother is there though.”

“What about your dad?” Powder asks, looking up at Caitlyn with a curious expression in her big eyes.

“He’s working tonight. He works at the hospital.”

“Oh cool! I’ve been there when I broke my arm falling off the monkey bars when I was seven,” Powder says. “I had a green cast. It was cool!”

She goes off on a tangent about how she broke her arm and the x-rays and how the doctor who put her cast on was super nice.

They approach another house and Powder stops talking long enough to knock on the door. Caitlyn is surprised every single time by how loud her knocking is, but it’s sweet. It suits her, somehow.

“Trick or treat!” Powder exclaims as an older woman comes into view, a large bowl of candy in her arms.

“Well look at you!” the woman says, smiling down at Powder. “You’re a very scary werewolf!”

“Thank you!” Powder replies.

“And, wow, those red eyes are startling, dear,” the woman says as she glances up at Caitlyn. “What are you supposed to be?”

“She’s a vampire!” Powder replies for her. “Show her your teeth!” Caitlyn happily obliges and the woman gasps.

“They’re very realistic,” she says. “You get two candy pieces for that.”

“Wow!” Powder exclaims as Caitlyn is passed two pieces.

“Thank you,” Caitlyn replies. She feels bad because Vi is hovering in the background, like she has been for the last three houses, but Powder has yet to let go of Caitlyn’s hand each time they approach a new house.

They say goodbye to the woman and she closes the door behind them.

“Here,” Caitlyn says, passing Vi one of the candy pieces. “Since you didn’t get any.”

Vi shoots her a surprised look. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“I don’t either,” Caitlyn replies. She slips the candy into Vi’s bucket and gives her a wink. She isn’t sure, as it’s getting dark, but she thinks she sees Vi blush.

“C’mon, slow pokes!” Powder says, breaking the moment.

They steadily make their way through the neighbourhood, Powder preening every time someone compliments her werewolf costume.

After an hour more, Caitlyn can feel Powder starting to slow down. She gently runs a hand over the back of Powder’s head, and says to her, “how about we go to one more house and then head home?”

“Okay,” Powder says, yawning widely.

On their way back to Vi’s house, Vi stops and gives Powder a piggy back. Caitlyn takes a moment to snap a photo of them. They look so cute with their matching wolf ears and little tufts of fur down their faces. Powder yawns again and buries her face in Vi’s neck, her eyes closed. Caitlyn takes a couple more discreet photos, vowing to show them to Vi later. She slips her phone back into her pocket and shuffles their buckets around so she’s carrying them in two hands rather than one.

Vander is sitting in the living room, watching the television when they enter the house.

“Good night?” he asks.

Vi nods. “I’m just going to put her to bed,” she says. “Cait, you can just stay down here.”

“Okay,” Caitlyn replies. “I’ll take the candy to the kitchen.”

Vi wanders off up the stairs and Caitlyn heads to the kitchen. She realises with a start that’s the second time tonight that Vi has called her Cait before. It makes her tummy tingle pleasantly.

“Would you care for a cup of tea?” Vander asks as he appears behind her.

“Oh, yes, please,” Caitlyn replies. She puts the buckets on the table, making sure that Powder’s is out of the way. She looks at her very full bucket and Vi’s mostly empty one. She tips her bucket into Vi’s, making sure she gets her fair share.

“That’s nice of you,” Vander says, startling Caitlyn. His back is to the kettle behind him, slowly burbling away. There are three mugs on the counter behind him, each with a teabag label hanging over the side.

“It’s only fair,” Caitlyn replies with a shrug. “Powder was quite insistent on holding my hand, which meant that Vi was left out a lot.”

Vander just nods, and turns back to the kettle. Caitlyn sorts the candies up, satisfied that Vi has her fair share. She wonders which ones are Vi’s favourites. She’ll happily trade with her.

“She’s out,” Vi says as she comes back into the kitchen. “Have you heard from the boys, Dad?”

Vander nods. He puts their mugs on the table, sliding one towards Caitlyn. “They’ll be out a bit longer, but they’re having fun.”

Vi smiles. “I’ll have to take you to the arcade soon,” she says to Caitlyn. She picks up her own mug and has a sip from it before wincing. “Too hot,” she mutters. “Hey, how come my bucket is full?”

“It’s only fair,” Caitlyn replies. “You didn’t get as much candy because you were hanging back a lot.”

“I don’t need all of this,” Vi protests, pushing the bucket back towards Caitlyn.

“I’ll leave you girls to it,” Vander says, interrupting what Caitlyn was about to say. He kisses Vi on the top of her head, and Caitlyn can’t help but smile because she’s still wearing her wolf ears. “Try and keep it down in here, it’s almost bed time for the lot of you.”

“Okay, Dad,” Vi replies. He takes his mug and wanders out of the kitchen.

“Cait,” Vi says, turning back to her. “I don’t want all of this candy.”

“Well, what are your favourites? We’ll divide them that way. I don’t eat anything with nuts, but my father loves them. Mother loves anything with nougat in it,” Caitlyn states.

“I love anything with caramel,” Vi replies. “I’m not fond of the ones with small nuts. But everything else is okay.”

“Alright then,” Caitlyn says. She takes both of their buckets and dumps the contents out on the table. Her fingers make quick work of dividing things up into what Vi likes, what she likes, and what they both dislike. It doesn’t take long, and soon their buckets are refilled with their selections.

“There. Done.”

“That was super fast,” Vi says, her tone impressed. “Are you sure you’re not a real vampire with super speed?”

Caitlyn purposefully bares her fangs. “You’ll never know.”

Vi shakes her head, smiling. “I’d better hide this from my brothers,” she says, nodding towards her bucket. “Mylo will eat everything if he can.”

“Then you definitely need to hide it,” Caitlyn agrees.

Vi glances up at her. “Thank you for coming tonight. Powder had a really good time.”

“I did too,” Caitlyn says. “It’s a first trick or treat experience to remember.” She picks up her tea and has a sip, enjoying the flavour. But mostly it’s so she has something to do with her hands, lest she reach over and take Vi’s in her own.

“I’m glad it was memorable,” Vi says. Her tone is soft, and she has a smile on her face that Caitlyn has only ever seen aimed towards Powder.

“I’d better go,” Caitlyn says after a beat of silence. “It’s getting late.” She pulls out her phone to message her driver to come and collect her. She slides her phone back into her pocket once she has a reply.

Vi nods and she passes Caitlyn her bucket. “We should do this again sometime.”

“What, go trick or treating?” Caitlyn teases.

Vi rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.” Caitlyn does. And she does want to do this again. They make their way to the front door and Caitlyn turns back to face Vi.

“Would you like to come over to my house next weekend?” She asks. “You can finally meet my dogs.”

Vi’s face lights up at that. “I’d love that.”

Caitlyn lingers for a moment before she decides to go for it. She gives Vi a massive hug and is relieved when Vi hugs her back. They slowly part and Vi’s hand comes up, her thumb gently caressing the side of Caitlyn’s face. She can’t help but lean into it before slowly pulling back.

“Good night, Vi,” she says, glancing up into Vi’s light blue eyes.

“Night,” Vi replies. Caitlyn nods once, awkwardly, before leaving the house, realising that she desperately wanted to kiss Vi tonight.

Her driver pulls up a moment later, and the moment she’s able to, Caitlyn is unlocking her phone and swiping through the photos she took tonight, stopping on a selfie she had taken with Vi earlier, both of their fangs on display as they made silly faces at the camera. She sets it as her phone’s lock screen, her tummy tingling all the while.

[dagger-n-ravvi]

Chapter 3: Leaving So Soon?

Trey gets Rook ready to spend the night, but the hunter has other plans.

Previous | Next Chapter | Fic Index

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49350448?view_full_work=true

Trey bites his lip, staring down at the back of Rook’s head. His hat fell off at the threshold of the door. With a shaky breath, Trey picks it up and sets it gently on the bedside table for him.

’Why were you REALLY here Rook?  Are you telling me the truth? I apologize for doing this to you, but I NEED to make sure. ’

He reaches down and unlaces Rook’s boots, trying to gauge how… oh Seven, how drugged he is, and also guiltily getting him more comfortable. It’s a little easier if he pretends he’s a drunk friend… just a drunk friend who had one too many shots, and now he needs a place to crash for the night... 

Rook’s eyes are closed, and he doesn’t react at all as his shoes and socks are taken, revealing slender feet with a line of odd, gold scales over his Achilles tendons. Trey frowns at them, and then lifts his eyebrows when he realizes that they’re actual, honest-to-goodness scales. Kind of like you’d see on a snake, or a lizard or…

Ohhhh. Like scales you’d see on the legs of a bird . Rook is a beastman? A bird beastman? That… ha. Actually, that makes a lot of sense. Certainly explains how he can see whether you have dandruff from fifty feet away, and hear your heartbeat from across the room. Eagles have incredible senses.

“Ahhh… Rook? Do you want the shirt on or off?” Trey lightly touches his shoulder. Rook doesn’t respond. His eyes are closed and his breathing has slowed and steadied. 

“… sorry.” Trey begins to gingerly work off his shirt and pants. He’s wearing black jeans and a long-sleeved, turtleneck shirt. Taken along with a pair of full-fingered gloves, also black, it looks very much like he was intentionally sneaking around at night. Certainly trying not to be seen, or leave fingerprints.

That suspicion is not particularly helped when he finds an alarmingly large hunting knife tucked into a sheath at the small of his back. It has a large magestone set into the hilt, so he could be carrying it around for magic more than for stabbing things. Possibly.

Fortunately, the contents of his pockets are a lot more mundane. His cellphone is a few years out of date, but it has a picture of Vil posing for an action movie poster on the lock screen. His key ring has a fob for a rental car. His wallet is almost empty, but it does have a credit card, and a few business cards with ‘Schroenheit Studios’ stamped across the front in glossy purple cursive. There's also a keycard for the ‘Caucus Race’ hotel. It's a super fancy one near the center of town. His room number is 1005.

And to Trey’s relief and growing shame, this all checks out with what he remembers about Rook. When Rook lies, it’s almost always a lie of omission. He’s selective about the truth, but he doesn’t outright fabricate stories. He really is here to do location scouting for Vil. He doesn’t know about that… or if he suspects, then he isn’t with the police.

And so the oddest thing about all this is once again, Rook himself. The scales on his ankles, and also the line of pale, downy feathers covering his spine. They start soft and fluffy at the center of his back, then thicken as they trail downward into glossy, golden feathers that match his hair. He has a tail. Or tail feathers, at least. That’s kind of adorable.

Great. So now he’s drugging his old classmates and stealing their clothes for no good reason. Just because he’s a paranoid mess. Wow that’s pathetic.

Feeling faintly awful, Trey neatly folds Rook’s clothes and places everything on the bedside table where he can easily find it in the morning. He takes one last look at him, and then shakes his head. “You’re still pretty mysterious, aren’t you? Let’s get you something to sleep in.”

He's about Trey's height, but much more slender. Pretty much everything Trey owns will be a little big on him, but that shouldn't matter much when it comes to pajamas. The trickiest part will be wrestling him into them. He's out cold and hasn't reacted at all to Trey's investigation. Somehow, that almost makes him feel a little worse. Rook would be acutely uncomfortable with this level of attention if he'd been conscious.

Carefully, he dresses Rook in an oversized, blue t-shirt and leaves it at that. Then he closes the door to give him at least a shred of privacy back, and crawls into his own bed. The adrenaline is fading fast, and that’s enough self-inflicted stupidity for one night…

The moment Rook is certain Trey's gone to bed, he sits up, heart pounding as he finally stops controlling his body's reactions. That... that was extremely unexpected. 

With the fluid ease of a shadow, he takes off Trey's night shirt and re-dresses in his own clothes. His eyes narrow and he looks around the guest room, suspicion thrown into its highest possible gear. Why in the world would meek, oh-so-normal TREY CLOVER drug him in a way that he'd barely been able to detect, and then search his person?! The boldness in and of itself is shocking, even without the clear evidence that Trey is hiding something.

He moves silently through the apartment, frowning at the carpet in the living room.  He found a single, red hair tangled into the fibers earlier. It was rather similar to Roi de Roses’ colour, but the smell clinging to it was all wrong. Lilac and vanilla.

He moves into the kitchen, and quickly finds a lot of very worrying herbs growing in a window box. Anyone else might have mistaken them for culinary plants, and some are. Basil, thyme, lemon balm. But across from them is Valerian, Angel's Trumpet, Foxglove, and Belladonna. He lightly runs his fingers through them, but only sees cuttings from the most innocuous valerian. A sedative and it smells very potent. Trey must have been cultivating it with magic. And… yes, he can feel that it is, slowly working as Trey intended and trying to put him to sleep. He should finish quickly and leave before he truly is unable to stand, and not merely play at being drugged.

He gives the bathroom one more look, glancing bemusedly over the magnificent variety of toothbrushes. He remembers seeing something similar at Night Raven but never discovering their purpose. Such a curious quirk…

Finally, he returns to the front door, intending to quietly slip out and leave when he notices that the carpet is slightly askew, and damaged in the center. He tilts his head, and then gives into his curiosity and carefully rolls it aside.

His eyes widen. The wood underneath is heavily marred by deep, pointed gouges. It’s been repeatedly stabbed, most likely by a very sharp knife. He looks up from the floor, and then around at the furniture at ankle level. Yes… there are scuffs and dents on the couch, the coffee table, and the stand holding Trey’s quaint little television. All consistent with someone thrashing around on the floor. There was a struggle in here. A violent one...

He draws the red hair out of his pocket and wraps it gently over his fingertip, tilting it into the faint light filtering in from the street outside. A struggle that someone did not walk away from, peut-être?

He blinks away a little dizziness, then straightens the carpet. He carefully tilts it into the orientation he found it in, and then pads to the front door, intending to slip outside and return to his hotel for the night.

"Rook?"

He jumps just a little. Behind him, Trey is standing in the darkened doorway of his bedroom, lit from behind by the streetlights."It's in the middle of night. Where are you going?"

Rook twists the deadbolt open and tries to open the door. It doesn't budge, and his eyes widen as he notices two additional deadbolts that have been installed above and below the door handle.

"I have an early start tomorrow. My apologies, I did not mean to wake you," he turns and smiles softly at Trey. Despite the attempted drugging, he does not believe that Trey is dangerous. Not toward him, at least.

Trey turns on the light, and rubs his eyes. "No worries. It’s just jarring, is all. I thought you were asleep." 

He approaches the door, and unlocks one of the other deadbolts. "Sorry, these can be tricky. Ah... Will I see you again?" He pauses over the last lock, turning to give Rook an unreadable expression.

"I will be in town for a few weeks," Room says softly. "I would let Vil know that your street is a lovely shooting location, but I think that the attention may not be to your liking, oui?" 

"Very much so. Thank you. I appreciate it,” Trey sighs, and gives himself a tired little hug with one arm. “Well, if this is the last time for a while, then please... Be careful tonight. Safe travels." 

He opens the last lock, and steps back to let Rook leave.

"And to you as well," Rook bows slightly, and then walks out the door. Trey closes it, and Rook hears the deadbolts slide into place with a series of muffled clicks. He walks down the stairs, then peers back up at Trey’s door, head tilted curiously to one side. Despite the growing wooziness, his eyes are laser focused as he listens to Trey’s footfalls heading back toward his bedroom, and then falling into bed. What a strange and beautiful mystery he’s stumbled upon. It seems almost as though Trey has killed someone~

He walks back down to the street toward the center of town, thoughts churning as he disappears into the darkness.

[wh0reformaryg0ore]

Mary goore headcannon #1

Mary definitely owns a shitty android. Specifically the Samsung A03s. He can't afford an iphone so he goes with samsung. The screen is pretty cracked, no case because he broke the damn case. The camera somehow is fine and the phone still works like he just got it too. The phone has seen hell and back, from drops, loosing it and throwing it. He definitely has the most random shit on it too. His wallpaper is definitely a picture of his black cat.

[madam-wakefield]

Historical Apology

Read on A03

TW: Homophobia Military Homophobia Internalized Homophobia

My work for the @berenaadvent Day 5 prompt “Historical”

Based around the The LGBT Veterans Independent review. Please do heed the homophobia warnings if that may be triggering.

Okay - so maybe this is a slightly stretch at the prompt “Historical” but once the thought was in my head it wouldn’t leave!

———

Serena comes home to fine the house eerily quiet. Bernie has had the day off and had told Serena she was planning to do a few of the DIY jobs that she’d got behind on because it’s July and they’ve spent all of their shared days off outside enjoying the sunshine. It’s not overly late just a little past 7pm and the temperature outside is still pleasant, so she wonders if maybe Bernie is outside, but isn’t convinced as she can’t hear any music playing. Bernie nearly always has music on if she’s tending the garden.

Serena places her shoes on the shoe rack by the front door, doesn’t want to walk through the house with her shoes on especially as she has her garden shoes by the conservatory door. She walks slowly through the house listening for signs of Bernie. Dinner hasn’t been prepped or started, though that in itself isn’t an issue, they are both quite used to eating post 9pm due to their shift patterns. Heads through into the conservatory but knows instantly Bernie isn’t outside due to the presence of her garden shoes on the doormat.

Serena doesn’t panic, there have been times before when she’s come home to a quiet house. Knows it might be a sign that Bernie just needs space, knows that Bernie has been part of things and seen things she will never understand. Knows that sometimes even out of the blue these things can play on her mind. She’ll go and find her girlfriend though, see if it’s space or company she needs and go from there.

She walks back through the house, and heads towards the stairs, it’s only as she approaches the last couple of steps that she can hear the faint sound of the telly coming from their bedroom. Wonders if Bernie has somehow got distracted during the DIY.

She pushes the door open, the shelf Bernie was meant to be putting up is discarded left propped up against the wall, though the brackets have definitely been screwed in. There are tools lay haphazardly on the ground underneath. Shes about to glance at the bed, wonders if Bernie has fallen asleep when the words coming from the TV stop her in her tracks.

The voice is unmistakable as the Prime Minister “The ban on LGBT people serving in our military until the year 2000 was an appalling failure of the British state – decades behind the law of this land.” She feels her own throat tighten at the words, can’t even comprehend the thoughts going through her girlfriend’s head. Wants to move, to say something, anything that might help. But she can only stare at the telly as the clip switches from the Prime Minister to the defence secretary Ben Wallace, can only listen to his words come from the TV screen.

“I am deeply sorry for what happened to you the very tolerance and values of western democracy that we expected you to fight for we denied to you. It was profoundly wrong.” Serena cannot describe the feeling in her chest at the words, the deep-seated heart ache that is so unlike anything she’s ever felt before. Knows the way she’s feeling is only a fraction of how Bernie is feeling. She forces her eyes away from the screen then, forces herself to look at the bed, to her girlfriend sat against the headboard, hunched over with her knees pulled to her chest, body shaking with silent sobs.

Serena walks to the telly, turns it off, walks in big strides over to the bed, slides up to her girlfriend and whispers her name more gently than she thinks she ever has in her life. “Bernie.” There is a pause, maybe for thirty seconds, but then Bernie moves her head, looks up at Serena. The sight before her breaks her heart, Bernie’s eyes red from crying, looking so anguished that Serena feels like her heart shatters.

“Cuddle?” Serena offers it as a question, knows Bernie may still want more space. Waits until Bernie nods before opening her arms. Bernie nestles against her, in a way that’s somewhat unusual for them, more often than not it’s Bernie holding her when they cuddle. Bernie settles her cheek against her chest, and Serena brings her arms around her tightly. Holds her close, rubs her hand gently up and down her arm. Doesn’t say anything else, knows from the time they’ve been together that Bernie will speak once she’s found the right words.

“Thank you,” is the first thing Bernie says, still not totally used to a partner who has her own best interests truly at heart. Shifts so that she can look as Serena as she talks, but instead connects their hands, her own way of grounding herself.

“I’ve known something like this was coming, ever since the report was commissioned. I’d known we’d get some big statement, but I didn’t except it to hit me so hard.” Bernie runs her thumb over Serena’s knuckles as she speaks, reminds herself that this is Serena that this conversation is okay, that Serena will never judge her for anything she has to say.

“I knew even before I was gay that I was destined to join the army. My brother, who should have been the one to join, had a form of childhood epilepsy that despite growing out of as a teen disqualified him from joining for safety reasons. We realised this when he was 16, I’d have been 12. I remember overhearing a conversation between my dad and granddad about the importance of the Wolfe family name carrying on, knew then and there that it was going to be me that carried that burden.” She can see the imagine vividly in her head, sat on their stairs of their house, leaning against the wall as her dad and grandad spoke. “I told them a few days later that I was going to join when I was old enough and I’ll never forget the pride in their eyes” and she can see it even now, can’t help but wonder if that pride would be the same now. She’d made it to major, a rank above them both, but would they be proud knowing that despite the fact she was a major that she’s also gay. She shakes her head gently can’t let that thought come into her mind now.

“As I got older the used to tell me stories, of the things they done, of the people they’d worked with. They made it sound glamorous in a way. Talked to me about what I wanted to do, it was a tradition that the Wolfe’s always entered as officers, and in the end, I decided it was medicine that I wanted to do. Of course, as time passed, I realised that I had feelings for women, knew that it wasn’t even really accepted in society and that it definitely wasn’t accepted in the military. But I pushed it aside knew I had a duty to my family, and that came above my own feeling. The army paid for my medical training, on the agreement that I served for at least 10 years, and I agreed because it took so much pressure off the family.” She feels Serena squeeze her hand as she’s speaking a silent sign that she’s listen that Bernie can keep talking.

“It wasn’t until I first attended officer training that I realised just how unwelcome the true me was there. I was dating Marcus by this point, we’d met at med school, but I knew deep down it wasn’t the real me. We were made to read through reams of paperwork, so we knew what we were signing up for, so we realised we had minimum service terms and such like. I’d always known people like me weren’t welcome in the military but having it written in front of my eyes in black and white was another matter. I can see see the image of the writing on the crisp white paper as if it was yesterday. ‘Any person subject to military law who is guilty of disgraceful conduct of a cruel, indecent or unnatural kind shall, on conviction by court-martial, be liable to imprisonment for a term not exceeding two years.’ I was literally facing being found guilty of a criminal offence, if I so much as let my cover slip, it’s the reason I agreed to marry Marcus, I loved him, just not in the way he deserved, and it was the best protection for me. I’ll never not feel guilty for that, it isn’t what he deserved.

She pauses then, a big sigh coming from her lips, Serena places her hand gently under her chin, makes her look at her. “You did what you had to darling, no one can blame you for that. I know he was hurt when he first realised but I’m sure even Marcus understands deep down. Bernie nods minutely, not convinced totally understands that Marcus probably hate her and that her kids don’t think much better of her.

“I hate myself sometimes for staying, for allowing myself to enjoy being part of an institution that would have criminalised the real me. But I did love it, the army, it quickly became part of who I was. I built a big web of lies that at times even I believed. I rose through the ranks, and I convinced myself that that made it okay, that I’d earned respect despite everything. I lost friends though, a couple of good friends. I still remember as clearly as if it were yesterday the day Officer Cadet Richardson was accused of being homosexual, he’d always spoken about Jamie, but everyone though they were a woman, and of course Richardson, Paul, had never corrected them. You have to realise at this time there were literally teams within the army employed to basically witch hunt any gay people they could, and somehow, they found out, that Jamie was in fact a man. They pulled him out of bed in the middle of the night, read his letters in front of us all, made them seem disgusting by reiterating over and over again that they’d been written by a man. They took him away that night and I never saw him again; we’d been friends since the first day of officer training, and we were a week away from commissioning. That was one of the days I hated myself most for staying, I was Married to Marcus by this point, and I couldn’t afford not to, couldn’t afford for that to be me. But it ate me upside every day that I was willing to be so loyal to an organisation that literally destroyed the lives of people like me brave enough to be their true selves.” Tears are shining in her eyes now, can see the way Paul looked at her as he was dragged away, as if pleading with her to help him, and all she’d done is look away, not wanting to risk looking like she felt sorry for him for risk of outing herself, even with her giant web of lies. She’s quiet for a while now, wonders what the future ended up holding for Paul, if him and Jamie managed to stay together despite everything else.

“How long did it take to change?” Serena asks gently, she’d know the military were behind in their acceptance, but she never realised quite how deep it had run. It stopped being a criminal offence in the army in 1994, scary thought when you think all our children were born by then. But it didn’t become allowed until much later still. Every time there was a new act we were forced to agree to it, it’s one of the few times we could get out of our service outside our usual terms, I remember considering it when the 1995 act was given to me, but by this point I’d got a husband and two children, I’d go far too much to lose, so I was the opposite of brave because it was safer and I knew what to expect.

“Again, I can still see the writing as if it’s right under my face. The act stated amongst other things that ‘homosexuality isn’t compatible with securing the aims of the armed forces, because it undermines the order and discipline necessary for military effectiveness’. It went on to talk about how there was no other job like the military, and well as much I can concur with that that I cannot agree with the reasons they then gave as to why being a homosexual soldier was so wrong. They talked about the close proximity that soldiers live in. That they have no choice but to share same sex living quarters, as if implying the awful stereotype that gay people will want to try and sleep with everyone of the same sex. The worst part of it was the comment about the percentage of under 18s in the army, as if being homosexual made soldiers more likely to try and pray on the younger soldiers, stereotypes that within mainstream society were settling but in the army were being written into legislation that made my true self and the true self of so many others incompatible with jobs we’d literally risked our lives to do, in more ways than one.”

Serena can hear the shame in Bernie’s voice can’t help but put her arm around her and pull her close. Bernie rests her head against her shoulder and continues to speak, Serena knows now she’d opened this very deep seated can of worms that she needs to get it all out.

“I lost a few more friends in the coming years, friends who by every admission of the word are so much braver than I’ll ever be. They were tired of living a lie, wanted to be able to be their true selves, risked losing everything to do so. Something I despite over twenty-five years in the army wasn’t brave enough to do. Alex is notwithstanding in all of this because that was such a closely guarded secret because it was totally not allowed due to our ranks, without taking into the fact I was also married.” Bernie lets the feeling of Serena arm rubbing gently at her side give her the strength to keep speaking, some of the things coming from her lips are things she’s hidden in the depths of her soul for as long as she can remember. They are thoughts and feelings that have plagued her being for year but that she’s never shared with anyone before. She’s got better at sharing her emotions since leaving the army, got better and not hiding behind Great British reserve, especially with Serena. But laying herself so bare is still deeply uncomfortable for her, not because she doesn’t trust Serena but because her mind screams at her that what’s she’s doing and saying is wrong.

“It didn’t change for the better until the millennium, when it was finally allowed. But even then, it wasn’t right. The military has such a deep-rooted hatred of homosexuality that people who were out still faced marginalisation and judgement. They got looked over for promotion and such like. Once again, I could have been brave then, the children were older, but by this point I’d hidden my true self for so long I wasn’t even sure who that was anymore. I of course did what I could, made sure that as an officer of considerable rank that I helped the soldiers who were out and proud as much as possible. I Cut off homophobic comments, ensured soldiers under me got a fair go at promotions, but I still don’t feel like it was enough. Can you imagine how moral boosting it would have been for them people if I’d have been brave enough. What it would have meant to have a highly ranked officer be out and proud. But I couldn’t, I’d got to the point where I hated that part of myself, where I’d have done anything to change it, to really be able to love marcus. I’d have given anything to forget that I looked at woman and saw something innately beautiful.” The tears trickle down her cheeks slowly then, she’s not that woman anymore. Not the woman who hated the fact that she’s gay, she’s out and proud and loves Serena more than life itself. But sometimes the self-hatred she used to have for herself, that comes with years of repressing who you are to the point that you believe it is wrong yourself, is enough to overwhelm her.

She feels Serena thumb gently wiping at her face, knows that she won’t comment on it will just be here to listen for now, until its clear she’s finished.

“I kept that stance for the rest of my career getting promoted through the ranks. I was deployed overseas on multiple occasions include to Iraq and Afghanistan, ended up being promoted to Major, each year things seemed to get slightly better for the soldiers who were out, but I always tried to be the best ally I could even if I still wasn’t out. You know the rest of it from there, my affair with Alex, how it all would have stayed a secret had I not been blown back to reality.”

And Serena does know about that part well, they’ve discussed Alex and the affair in detail. It was clear a few months into their relationship that Serena’s biggest insecurity was that, while she trusted and trusts Bernie that the pain and suffering Edward had put her through, we’re definitely made more present by the knowledge that Bernie had too had an affair. Bernie had opened her heart to Serena, admit in a way that could confuse some that it was like she was a different person. She doesn’t excuse her affair, but she could explain it in some way. That it was like she had two separate personalities the one who was married to Marcus, had two children and would keep their sexuality hidden forever. And this second one who was made to come alive by Alex, that she didn’t do it to hurt Marcus or the kids but because she needed to feel something after so long of hating herself. That in some ways it worked but in others it made her hate herself more as she wasn’t that kind of person.

“You know as well as anyone that if it hadn’t had been for the IED and Alex, that I’d probably still be married to Marcus and still burying that part of me. Though it seems we’ve digressed from the initial point of this conversation.”

Serena’s answer is instantaneous, “But we haven’t though.” Serena says gently, and Bernie’s face is enough for Serena’s thoughts to be confirmed, that she herself needs to step in now and help her girlfriend understand.

“Everything you’ve just told me has led to us being here now.” Serena squeezes Bernie’s hand tightly then because there is no one else she could imagine a future with. “But that doesn’t make it okay, and I don’t mean what you did, I’ve already said you did what you had to. But it doesn’t make it okay that you had to. Does that make sense?” Bernie shakes her head gently, and Serena is so glad their relationship is built upon trust and honestly, that it’s allowing them to have this conversation.

“From what you’ve said to me today, I get why you behaved and acted the way you did for so long. I get why you hid the real you. You were forced so wrongly to do what you did; you made a choice to make your father and grandfather proud, but in doing so you were given no choice but to hide who you truly are. By the time you did have a chance to be honest about any of it, you’d been forced for too long to lie about it that it was too late. The damage had already been done. You’d already been forced to be something and somebody you were never destined to be. You should never have been put in that position and no one who hasn’t been in that position will ever understand what the mental torture of that did to you.”

“But it’s partially my fault, I chose to join, and I chose to stay. I can’t complain not when my colleagues were literally stripped of their medals, tortured and criminalised for it. That I at least got a choice to see it through to the end.”

“But that’s the point I’m making, it should never have been a choice the way it was. You shouldn’t have been made to choose between your true self and making your dad and grandfather proud, in continuing the Wolfe family name. Those two things shouldn’t have been mutually exclusive. The fact you were made to hide yourself to the point we both know you hated yourself is wrong. I think right now in your head you think that this apology for all the historic hurt that has been caused doesn’t include you. That because despite everything you managed to stay in the army to become a renowned front line trauma surgeon and medic. I think you don’t think you deserve this apology. I don’t think that you understand that while your colleagues and friends went through their own traumas with their sexuality being discovered that you went through your own kind of emotional trauma. The constant worry of being found out, either by the army or Marcus or the kids. The fact that you took on board so much of what was said to you that you literally hated yourself for being gay, something that you know as well as I do, you have absolutely no control over tells me that you deserve this apology just as much as anyone else. That you were hurt by the historic ban and far from thinking you aren’t brave you should know just how bloody brave you were, you are, be here where you are right now.”

She’s not sure at which point during Serena’s words the tears come, but come they do and they don’t seem to stop. She is pulled into Serena arms allows the steady beating of Serena’s heartbeat to calm her, to remind her that she did make it thought. That maybe Serena is right and she does have a right to accept the apology for the unacceptable historical chapter of the armed forces that was part of so much of her service. That she isn’t the one who needs to be ashamed, she’s risked her life for her country and that the only thing that was wrong in any of it was the institutionalised hatred she was forced to face every day. That on the contrary she has so much to be proud of, that she won’t ever let anyone make her ashamed again for being the LGBT veteran that she is and always will be.

[deering24]

Sullivan/Devine challenge, pt. 2 (Long Rant--Abandon Hope All Ye Who Must Clutch At Your “True Father Brown Fans Don’t Criticize” Pearls.)

Don: "She is not the person that you think she is."

David: "She's worried you have the wrong idea about her."

Don: "Everything about her is wrong."--Ghost Story

Mrs. Treadwell:  "I'm - I'm very fond of Mr. Carpenter, of course. Everybody is."

Lydecker: "I'm not. I'll be hanged if I am." --Laura

Several A03 fan-fic writers have done a solid job (certainly way better than the FB writing crew) of explaining Mrs. Devine's insecurities, awkwardness, previous marriage, and desperation to have a better deal than life has handed her so far.  But unfortunately, their best efforts can't make up for the fact that 1) her character is now all over the map, yet still not likeable;  2) there is still something rottenly-patronizing at her heart that no amount of talent, retconning or excuses can make up for. She continues to come off like the FB writers figured female viewers were stereotypical pathetic fans with a thing for Sullivan who would jest love any old adorkable, fake-ass-quirky lurve interest.

Worse yet, she's already proved three crucial times canon-wise that she is not the truly unconventional, intelligent, selfless, woman-of-substance people want her to be. In “The Beast Of Wedlock,” she and Brenda wander around the countryside looking for a killer beast/whatever with no weapons, backup, or help. Someone has already been gruesomely murdered, so shouldn't they have been ready for a human psycho nuthead at the least? Nope--Devine and Brenda act like there's no threat whatsoever. (The TV show Endeavor did a terrific ep. about a killer animal that was scary, suspenseful, and twisty--everything this episode was not. And I would have given anything to see Devine and Brenda dropped into that. Hell, the Scooby Gang shows more sense of danger than these two--and they're supposed to be comedic. 😝) In “The Hidden Man,” all Devine needed to do was pretend to be Father Brown--but she wanted to show off so much, she couldn't even manage that modest task. Which of course led to Flambeau getting jailed, Sullivan getting beat up, and Father Brown almost losing his life to a psycho.

And The Serpent Within was definitely Devine's Blip; her stake through the heart; her silver bullet; the sword to her neck--the episode that proved how hopeless she really is. (And sorry--fan-fiction writers have done their level best to explain her actions here, but it speaks volumes that nobody can really make sense of--or excuse--her.) She should have risen to the occasion and really proved her worth. Instead she ups the rock-stupid ante because her actor's ego again puts everyone at risk--this time even worse than before. Who did she think Father Brown was up against--Girl Guides high on their Thin Mint stash? Did she ever consider that maybe someone in Kembleford might have seen her on stage?  And did she really think that gangsters who were dropping bodies like they breathed--and had killed to frame Sullivan--would listen to her pleas for mercy? (Sweet Honkin' Jesus. That trope was laughed off movie and TV screens by the 1960's, and no one needs that mess coming back from the dead now.)  Can you imagine what Lady Felicia, Mrs. McCarthy, Sid, or Bunty would have done in this situation? (But, then, they would have had enough common sense to not get caught in the first place. 😝) To put this in proper perspective, think of Sid in "The Upcott Fraternity." Was he rolling around proclaiming he was the mostest dedicated humblest devouterest trainee priest ever--"Lookit me!! Lookit me!!"--and making the case all about his undercover talents? No? Well, then--case closed. Devine is still a terrible Father Brown associate. At the best, she is Damsel Scrappy--at her worst, she is Too Dumb To Live/The Ditz.

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/DamselScrappy

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TooDumbToLive

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TheDitz

And she still ain't a good love interest for Sullivan, who certainly deserves someone with more common sense, true caring, intelligence, and real selflessness. Come on, guys--are folks so desperate that Sullivan be in love that they'll settle for this hopelessly-retrograde, endlessly-simpering, vapid, self-centered idiot? Why? Can't FB writers (or fan-fiction ones) come up with better, more-credible alternatives? Even worse, does anyone really want to see the enticingly-tortured, officiously dashing, needing-real-love, caring-down-deep Sullivan turned into "Mr. Women's Institute/Kembleford's Own 'Honey-Do'??!?!!?"

Mark Twain perfectly nailed this kind of bad writing ages ago (in “Fenimore Cooper's Literary Offenses”--a great how-to piece on good fiction writing everyone should read. ASAP.) https://public.wsu.edu/~campbelld/engl368/fenimorecooper.pdf He said everything that needs to be said, so I'm just gonna paraphrase:

"She has no  . . . order, system, or logical sequence. She is confusedly drawn, and by her acts and words she proves she is not the sort of person the author swears up and down on a sky-high stack of Bibles that she is. Her humor is pathetic;  her pathos is funny.  Her conversations are indescribable;  and her love-scenes are fuckin' _odious_."

Nice try, guys. But tl;dr: "Upstairs Space For Let" Devine still sucks. And one can only hope her "Knight-In-Shining-Armor" teams up with a suitably-irate dragon--and "Dracaryses" her insufferable self into oblivion. Fooey.

[cotecoyotegrrrl]

Once Upon A Time - Still Kind of Beautiful - part 2

Not exactly a holiday story

There's a letter on the desktop that I dug out of a drawer  The last truce we ever came to from our adolescent war  And I start to feel the fever from the warm air through the screen You come regular like seasons shadowing my dreams 

Indigo Girls

You can find of this story in its entirety on A03 and FF

Summary:

Holly has come home for the holidays to visit family, and maybe, just maybe, find some holiday magic.

Part 2

Holly is home for the holidays. Home. What a strange and wonderful thing, even though she hasn't lived in this city in a decade, Toronto still feels like home. She comes home about once or twice a year to spend a few weeks to a month visiting friends and relatives, living in the guestroom of what is now her sister's townhouse, although she still owns it. On longer visits, like this one, she combines pleasure with business, hanging out in the morgue, getting caught up with old colleagues, and now that she let her boss talk her into being on that stupid show, giving lectures and making a few official public appearances, God or somebody help her.

It used to be easier avoiding Gail. When Sophie and Leo were young, all that Traci needed to do was to get Gail to babysit the kids for an evening and they would meet up for drinks at The Black Penny. Now that the kids are both old enough to be in collage, it's harder, even though Holly knows Gail doesn't really go out much anymore. She knows she's taken the coward's way out. As Traci says, it's been ten years for Christ's sake, what is she still afraid of? They did part as friends. Right? And now, Traci tells her, laughing at her the whole time, Sophie is a big fan of the show and wants to meet her. It's like she's become the butt of some bad, sad cosmic joke. She sighs and drops her forehead into her arms that are resting on the bar. Seamus, the regular bartender at the Penny, pushes a Jack and Coke in front of her without being asked.

"It's good to see you Doc!" He says as he goes back to polishing the glassware, "This one's on me."

"Thanks Seamus!" She smiles, sitting back up to lift the glass to her mouth. The barely tainted liquor burns all the way down.

Just the way Gail likes it, or did, in any case.

It's been ten years, three months, and sixteen days since she kissed the blonde officer goodbye at the airport on her way to her new life, not that she would know. Ten years, three months, sixteen days, and nine and a half hours since she boarded that plane to be exact, if she kept track of those kinds of things. Ten years, three months, sixteen days, and four hours since she left a message on Gail's voicemail letting her know that her flight had landed in San Francisco, and began to wait for a reply that never came. She thought about reaching out to Gail when Traci told her that Sophie's adoption didn't go through, and then again a year and a half later, when it did. She had wanted to fly home and rush to Gail's side when she heard about the internal corruption investigation, and then the trial where Gail and Steve had been forced to testify against their parents, pitting them against each other as well. But the wall of silence had stopped her. She had seen Gail from a distance on several of her visits home, always managing to slip away before she was noticed, not wanting her presence to intrude on Gail's life. She had heard from several of their mutual friends about how retched Gail had been after she left, and how Gail finally managed to pull herself together when it became clear that Children's Services were considering her once again as a parental candidate for Sophie, after Sophie's placement with a more traditional family fell apart. Who is she kidding? It isn't just Gail that she is trying to protect.

"Hey Girl! You are looking good!" She can hear the smile in Traci's voice even before she spins around on her bar stool to be grabbed into a warm hug.

"Traci!" She grins into the shoulder of the wool coat that is pressing into her cheek.

Traci pulls back, holding her at arms length for a moment and then lets go. She waives at Seamus and holds up two fingers. He nods and places two shots of bourbon and two pints of beer on the bar in front of them.

They settle into a booth in the back, talking about Holly's reluctant celebrity, and Traci's recent promotion to Regional Special Operations Team Leader and her move from Division 15 to the Ontario Police Headquarters, and about how she and Steve reconnected about a year ago and are giving dating another try.

"So you and Steve…?" Holly tilts her head, raising her eyebrows at Traci, "How is that working?"

"It's good." Traci smiles back, "I think we are really going to make a go of it this time. He has done a lot of work on himself around communication, and control, and trust."

"That's great Traci, I am really happy for you." Holly replies.

"Thanks!" Traci says, "And even better, Leo loves Steve, so he couldn't be more thrilled!"

"I can't believe he is in his second year at the University of Toronto! All grown up, and a starting Left Wing on the hockey team!" Holly smiles and shakes her head.

"You want me to get us tickets for a game while you're here?" Traci glows with pride.

"Of course!" Holly grins and finishes her drink. "Here let me get us another round."

The Penny has filled up quickly in the time they have been sitting wrapped in conversation, with the usual crowd of cops getting off the day shift, people from the neighborhood, and the occasional college student or two. Holly has to push her way to the bar and squeeze in between a couple or large guys to place their drink order. She fidgets as she waits for the new bartender she doesn't know to stop flirting a couple of girls sitting at the end of the bar. Sooner or later people she knows will be filing in after work, and then she will be here all night. She sighs and looks up to find Seamus placing their drinks before her.

"Sorry about that." He shrugs, "Jimmy doesn't know you, and he thought you were just some hot cougar out hunting cops." He smirks.

"So I'm no longer a badge bunny." She laughs, "Well at least he thinks I'm still hot."

"Darlin', you were never a badge bunny!" The voice says behind her, "And Seamus, put that on my tab."

She whirls around to be caught in a great hug that warms her down to her very soul.

"It's so good to see you." She murmurs into Oliver's ear.

"Yup. Yup, I could say the same." Oliver releases her, "Celery told me you were in town. So I figured it was only a matter of time before I caught you sneaking around down here."

"I am not sneaking around!" She replies indignantly.

"Sure you're not…" He laughs at her

"I'm not! I'm here with Traci, if you must know…" She gives him a playful shove.

"Yeah, yeah, sittin' in the back, ignoring all of us little people…" He teases. "Well look Darlin', I gotta go but maybe I'll see you when I get home on Monday?"

"Celery and I are just going to hang around the house after lunch, so you know you will." She smiles as he kisses her cheek and walks off in the direction of the dartboard.

Holly smiles to herself. It is good to be home. She has picked up the drinks and is carefully turning to return to her seat when she literally bumps into someone that stops her cold. The black leather jacket is shockingly familiar, from the tiny scull charm dangling from the zipper on the breast pocket to the knot she put in the waist belt so long ago. Looking up into eyes, framed by gold wire rimmed glasses, as dark and brown as her own, in a face she has only seen in pictures, makes Holly gasp.

"Hey! Watch it lady!" The dark curls that tumble out from underneath a watch cap, and the flawless milk-chocolate brown skin are unfamiliar, but the tone and the accompanying gesture are all Gail.

"Sophie?" Holly asks in a hushed tone.

"Oh my God!" Is all Sophie can manage as she gapes wide eyed at her hero, a blush rising in her cheeks. "Doc..Dr. Stewart? You… you know who I am?" She finally sputters.

Holly regains her composure as she watches the girl struggle.

"Wha... what are you doing here?" Sophie stutters, still obviously in shock.

Holly laughs, "I'm having a drink with your Aunt Traci."

"Oh." Sophie says, still frozen to the spot.

"Why don't you come over and say hello." Holly continues, leading the way back to the booth.

"Oh. Ok." Sophie follows like a puppy, all awkward and shy.

"Look who I found." Holly says while sliding back into the booth.

"Oh good! You've met." Traci looks up with a smile. "Hey Sophie! How's school?"

Sophie is still standing somewhat dumbstruck in front of them.

"Uh… good Aunt Traci, really good…" She finally manages.

"Sophie wants to be a Forensic Pathologist too." Traci smiles at Holly.

"Really?" Holly tilts her head with a smile, "So you want to be an uber-science nerd like me?

"Oh I don't think you're a nerd, Dr. Stewart! Well not in a bad way, anyway. I think you're amazing! And all of the cases you help solve…" Sophie gushes.

"Please. Call me Holly." She interrupts, her smile growing wider. So this is Sophie. This amazing young woman is the reason Gail couldn't come with her to San Francisco. Sitting here listening to Sophie ramble on, bubbling about forensic science, in much the same way she does herself, is like a gift she didn't know she needed. Until now. Holly finds the weight of ten years of disappointment and resentment for a life without Gail lifting as she sees the young woman before her begin to glow with excitement as she answers each question about their chosen profession. Traci is grinning ear to ear with pride across the table at her too.

"I have to say, I'm impressed." Holly grins as Sophie finishes telling them about the molecular biology project on the breakdown of DNA and methods of its reconstruction for analysis in the field she has been working on all semester. "That's quite advanced stuff you are working on!"

She watches Sophie blush, lick her lips and scuff her boot on the wooden floor and then look back up at her with wide, trusting eyes in a way that is just so Gail. It catches Holly completely off guard; it makes her want to cry all of a sudden. She can feel Traci's eyes, soft and motherly, watching her. It's all starting to be too much.

"Hey! There you are. I thought we were meeting at the bar…" Gail's annoyed voice cuts in behind Sophie.

Holly closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and leans her head against the wooden back of the booth.

"Hey Mom! I was just talking to Aunt Traci and Dr. Stewart… erm… I mean Holly!" Sophie exclaims, excitement sparkling in her eyes as she turns to face Gail.

"Oh." Gail says as all of the blood drains from her body. She licks her lips, feeling as if she has been plunged into ice water.

Traci is frozen too, looking from Holly to Gail to Sophie with frantic, worried eyes. She finally snaps out of it, springing from her seat to take Sophie gently by the arm. "Why don't we go get another round at the bar." She says, leading a thoroughly confused Sophie away from the booth.

Brown eyes open to meet blue and nothing else matters. The Penny, the noise, and everyone else all seem to disappear.

"Hello Gail." Holly says softly.

That's all it takes. Suddenly Holly is on her feet. Gail takes two quick strides forward to catch her and hold on tight.

"I've missed you." Holly finally manages to gasp in a strangled whisper.

"Me too, Holly, me too." Gail sobs quietly into her ear. "More than I can ever say."

[lilacmoon83]

Operation Castle

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 6: The Banshee's Cry

"What do you mean, ripped out? Cause this doesn't look like it was done with a knife. There's no knife wounds," Emma reasoned.

"Because it wasn't," Casey said.

"Wait…are you accusing someone of ripping a heart with magic?" David asked.

"It's possible…but we're not sure. The only two people we know about that can do something like that were accounted for at the time of death," Casey replied.

"Yes…they were with us at dinner last night," Killian agreed, referring to Gold and Regina.

"Which means we have someone that has either figured out magic or a way to use science to replicate a heart rip, as I understand it's called," Alivia said.

"That means it's someone from our land…or someone from your ranks and since you've assured us no one else is awake…that means it's the latter," Gold replied. There was a pregnant pause between them.

"We're aware that this could be the case, but the General isn't ruling out the possibility that this could be another magical creature that's popped up as another anomaly," Casey said. David raised an eyebrow.

"And they just got lucky and happened to choose someone from our land to kill?" he asked.

"Dave is right…what the bloody hell are you hiding? Is someone from your damn government hunting us?" Killian accused. Emma noticed the slight widening of Alivia's eyes, like she was surprised that he had made that conclusion so quickly. So they were hiding something.

"I'd watch your tone…Captain," Casey warned.

"I'm more than three hundred years old, mate. I've seen more bloody carnage and just pain bonkers stuff than you can imagine. The only thing I know about government or royals…" he said, as he paused for a moment.

"Save a few in my company…is that they can't be trusted," he growled.

"You have no power here…and you know it. We have told you what we're authorized to tell," Alivia said sternly.

"That wasn't a no," Emma said.

"Indeed," Gold agreed.

"Look…finding who did this is top priority. Regardless of who it was…someone has been killed with magic," Casey said.

"Or what looks like magic," Gold replied, as examined the autopsy photos.

"When I rip a heart…my hand passes cleanly into the chest. These are burn marks, if I'm not mistaken," he added.

"So someone did come up with a synthetic way to do it," David said.

"Enough," General Shaw bellowed, as he appeared on screen.

"Tell us the truth then. Are we being hunted?" Killian replied. There was another long pause.

"It appears so…we have another body, from your land," he revealed, as a picture of the body, post mortem, appeared on screen.

"Do you recognize him?" Emma asked.

"Not this one…which begs the question on how exactly you know he's from Storybrooke," David replied.

"That's classified," Shaw responded. He snorted in response.

"Of course it is," he replied, as there was an alert.

"Guess you're saved by the proverbial monster…for now," Emma said, as the image came in from the NSA main office, where they were monitoring all paranormal activity.

"What the hell is that thing?" Emma asked, as she watched an wispy, astral-like apparition float around what seemed to be a four block radius. Then they were all covering their ears, as it screeched an unholy sound.

"A Banshee…" Killian said.

"Yep, definitely, which is kind of new, but not all that surprising, considering our current situation," David replied.

"What do you mean?" Alivia asked.

"He means that a Banshee, at least in our land, heralds the death of someone. Usually it's a family member, but in the grand scheme of things, one of us is dead," Rumple reasoned.

"Wait…are you saying that the banshee has appeared, because someone from your land is dead?" Casey asked.

"There's no way to prove such…but it's a reasonable theory," Rumple replied.

"What kills a banshee? It looks like it's transparent," Alivia said, clearly freaking out a bit.

"It looks transparent…but she can be banished. They hate iron and steel. The reflections from our blades will eventually get her to flee, but the bright light of magic works even better," David said, as they armed themselves.

"Which we haven't figured out yet," Regina argued.

"No time like the present…" he said.

"It's not that easy!" Regina argued hotly.

"Then we'll have to figure it out…because right now, there's hundreds of cameras on this thing and this one won't be so easily explained away," Alivia said, as they hurried out to the cars.

~*~

Snow looked up from the papers she was grading. This was her free period, but she was covering a seventh grade study hall for an ill teacher that period. She noticed a couple boys on their phones, whispering about something, while occasionally casting looks at her.

"Is there something I can help you boys with?" she asked, calling them out. Others around them snickered and they clammed up pretty quickly.

"This is study hall and I'm sure you have homework to do," she said sternly. She was sure the boys would have needed further reprimanding, but fortunately for them, the period ended and she proceeded to the teacher's lounge to grab her lunch. She noticed a couple of the other teachers gathered at the table, watching something on one of their phones. Oddly, they looked up at her and back down at their phones, almost in disbelief. She didn't have time to ponder this though, as she turned when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

"Mrs. Nolan…I'm Dana Bishop, your new student teacher," she said, introducing herself with a meaningful look.

"Of…of course, I'll show you to my classroom," she replied, as they stepped out into the hallway.

"What's going on? I assume you're really from the NSA?" Snow asked. The woman nodded.

"There's another attack…your husband and the others are enroute already. There is a car waiting out front for you," she said. Snow sighed. It's not that she didn't want to go, but she had a feeling that people were already noticing something was off with her.

"How exactly are my absences being explained?" Snow asked.

"The Principal was informed that you are an asset and nothing more. No questions will be asked," Dana replied. Somehow, Snow doubted that, but walked away toward the front entrance of the school. She wanted to be there to watch the backs of the people she loved, after all.

~*~

Neal and Robin arrived at Lake Nostros a few hours later, but whatever Neal was expecting to see when they got there…it was anything but this.

"I guess we now know why the locals think it's quick sand," Robin mentioned, as they saw the dried up lake was nothing but sand again. But in the center, the sand was moving continuously.

"Except quicksand doesn't actually look like that. Usually you don't know you're in quicksand until it happens. It certainly doesn't move like that," Neal replied, as he cautiously moved closer. He knelt down at the edge of the moving sand and touched it. He saw it turn green at his touch and then he moved more sand around, again seeing green, just like the portal he had fallen through.

"What is it?" Robin asked.

"Call me crazy…but I think this is a portal," Neal replied.

"But how can that be? Portals don't stay open," Robin reasoned.

"You're right…that we know of. I've never known of a continuous portal opening. If the wrong people knew there was an open portal to other realms…" Neal realized.

"What are you going to do?" Robin asked. He grabbed his pack and shouldered it.

"I'm going to take a really big chance…and jump through it," Neal said.

"Are you crazy? You have no idea where that thing goes," Robin replied. Neal looked at him.

"I know…but this might be my only chance to find Henry and Emma," he said, as their eyes met and Robin understood. Neal would do anything for his son, just as Robin would for his.

"This…this isn't normal and it means something. If there is even a chance that Henry and my family are in danger of some kind…I have to take it," Neal said.

"You think Storybrooke is in trouble?" Robin asked. Neal snorted.

"Wouldn't be the first time. Who knows what Tamara and Greg did after I fell through the portal," he said. Robin nodded. He was familiar with them from the story that Neal told.

"I'll travel back and tell Mulan about this. It is likely that Phillip will want to send a rotation of guards here now to keep watch on this portal," Robin said. Neal nodded.

"It's a good idea. Trust me, Storybrooke doesn't need anymore crazies," he replied, as he took a deep breath.

"Good luck, my friend," he said, as they shook hands.

"Thanks…something tells me I'm going to need it," Neal said, as he took another deep breath and jumped into the moving sand. It flashed green briefly as he did and then returned to the moving sand. Robin sighed and took Roland's hand.

"Come along Roland…we need to go visit Mulan," he said.

~*~

They arrived at the scene where people ran screaming through the two block radius that the Banshee was terrorizing.

"Level with me…is this about where the body was found?" David asked.

"Yes…this is the neighborhood that the victim lived in," Casey confirmed.

"Mate…in my three-hundred years, I've never seen a Banshee act like this. It wails and shrieks, but flees once the victim is either properly buried or avenged or both," Killian mentioned. David clenched his jaw.

"But the body is probably in a morgue right now, being dissected. She's angry," Rumple said.

"That's standard procedure," Alivia said.

"Your procedure created this one!" David snapped.

"No…we didn't create this! This doesn't happen in our world!" Alivia shot back.

"Well, it does now…so how do we get rid of her?" Emma asked.

"Not sure…we've never seen one that wasn't able to go away on their own or one that turned violent," David replied.

"But it's an apparition…it can't really hurt anyone," Casey said. As he said that, an electrical box exploded above one apartment building, sending downed electrical phone lines into the streets and people scurrying to keep from being electrocuted.

"No…but she can cause a lot of damage that could," David said, as they rushed into the street to confront the being. A car arrived moments later and Snow and Belle got out, rushing to join them.

"A Banshee…" Snow realized.

"Yeah…I'll fill you in later, but we could use a magical solution right now," David said.

"I'm trying…I can almost feel it in the air, but it's not answering my call," Regina replied, as she held her hands up.

"She's right…it does not flow in the air like it did back home," Rumple agreed, as they saw his hand spark red momentarily, before fizzling out.

"There may be another way…" Snow said.

"Really?" David asked. She nodded.

"I saw the villagers deal with them a lot…you know, after many people were slaughtered by…" Snow said, as she looked at Regina, who shook her head in annoyance. Emma ignored the Queen though.

"How'd they do it without magic?" the blonde asked.

"A bonfire…which the Banshee's hated and would flee from, except they weren't able to, because of the rattling," Snow said.

"Rattling?" Killian asked.

"The villagers would rattle tin cups or whatever metal they could against another metal object to create a rattling noise. The Banshees can't stand it and they plunge themselves right into the fire," Snow recalled from her memories.

"This is absurd! You want us to build a bonfire in the middle of Brooklyn?" she asked. David spotted some trash cans in an alleyway.

"We don't need a bonfire for one," he said, as he dragged one that was only half full into the street. Casey rummaged through the glove box in the SUV and tossed a pack of matches to the Prince. David tossed a lit one in the can and a fire was soon roaring.

"Now for the rattling," Killian said, as he pulled something from his belt, revealing his old hook and grabbed a trash can lid. He started banging the metal hook on the tin trash lid and the Banshee shrieked and covered her ears in agony.

"That's it…more!" he called.

"This is insane…" Alivia growled, as she picked one up and started banging on it with a piece of discarded scaffolding from the alley. Emma grabbed a tire iron from the trunk and started banging on another trash can lid. This was enough to drive the one Banshee insane and it dove head first into the fire, burning up and dissipating. They all breathed a sigh of relief. And there was no way to hide this one, as they looked up at the dozens of apartment windows where people were filming with their camera phones.

"This is bad…" Emma said.

"The NSA will handle it," Alivia argued.

"There's no handling this! We're exposed like a vein! Believe me…I know what this world does to you when they think you're a freak!" Emma shouted.

"Enough…back to Castle," Casey ordered. Snow and David joined hands, as they walked toward the SUV.

"David…why was there a Banshee? They only occur under certain circumstances," Snow said. He looked over at her.

"I'll explain everything on the way back," he promised, as he kissed her cheek.

~*~

"Well…that wasn't inconspicuous at all," Tamara said, as they watched the spectacle taking place in Brooklyn now.

"Yes…there will be no keeping this under wraps now," General Aza replied.

"Guess it's time for our first broadcast, live from Brooklyn," Greg said, as his phone chimed. Tamara smirked.

"I'm going to enjoy this. Do you want us to reveal their identities?" she asked.

"Not yet…but dangle the reality that you will soon know who they are. They'll regret not masking their identities. Let the public do the rest," Aza said.

"Fine…as long as the Queen eventually pays," Greg said.

"She's already paying in a way…she doesn't have her son," Tamara reminded him.

"Not good enough…she killed my father and I want the whole world to know. I want her locked up at the very least," he said.

"And that time will come…if we do this right," Aza said, as he gave him a steely look.

"Do not think for a second about going rogue, Mr. Mendell. It will not end well for you if you do," he warned, as they were dismissed to do their first broadcast. They would be introduced as rookie beat reporters, but the subject of their reports would quickly see to it that they became very well known.

~*~

Unfortunately, on the way back to Castle, they discovered that there was a second Banshee and they had gone to deal with it too, much in the same way as the first one. Now it was clear. Two deaths of people from Storybrooke. The mood was somber, as they made their way into Castle for debriefing and General Shaw was waiting on the line.

"Who is hunting us?" David asked bluntly, as he stood at the head of the table, leaning against it with his hands firmly gripping the edges. Snow had seen this stance many times before, back in their land, in the castle war room.

"At ease, Agent Nolan," Shaw warned, but David didn't soften his stance or his glare.

"We don't know…but we fear we have a rogue operative. It is the only way someone could even know about your kind," Shaw said.

"Uh…our kind? We're human, just like you," Emma protested.

"You are…except your hearts are not like ours and it shows up as an extra marker in your DNA," he revealed.

"Bloody hell…" Killian said.

"So I was right…you've cataloged us all in your little database," Rumple said. Shaw gave them a stern gaze.

"As far as we know, your lot is the reason for all this insanity we're facing," he said.

"You can't know that…" Snow protested.

"I'm afraid we can and we do. The magical radiation from the trigger has so far had untold consequences for this country and possibly the entire world. The only reason you are walking free is we think you can help stop it," Shaw said.

"Then we need to know everything…but you're hiding half the picture from us," Emma replied.

"You'll know what you need to know. For now, you'll stand down," Shaw said, as his image blinked out.

"Stand down? He's got to be kidding! We're just supposed to stand by while one of our people could be the next victim?" David shouted.

"We've got more problems than that…" Casey said, as he unmuted the television, which was broadcasting a special report.

"Oh my God…" Regina uttered.

"Is that…" Snow also uttered.

"Bloody hell…these wankers," Killian said.

"They survived too…" David said.

"Greg and Tamara…" Emma said in shock.

~*~

Neal felt himself deposited unceremoniously on the hard ground.

"Oof…definitely need to work on my landings," he joked, though no one was around to hear him. He looked around, trying to figure out where he was, but he instantly saw something he recognized. He smiled and saw the well, before he hurried through the woods and when he emerged from the edge of the woods, expecting to see the familiar site of the clocktower, his smile quickly faded to a frown. He found there was a small clearing, but then more woods where Storybrooke should have been.

"What the hell happened?" he wondered, as fear gripped him. Storybrooke was gone…and so was his family.

[artemiseamoon]

Garrett week turns into two! In which I am getting around to films I have not seen yet.

Two nights ago I watched the Tutor, what tf was with his hair????? 😂 it was so distracting. Tho at the end my darkfic girlie mind was like oh😍 minus the hair.

Last night I watched The Marsh King’s Daughter. I enjoyed that much more than the Tutor. Plus as a Ben M fan it is always a treat to watch him on screen.

In other Garrett related news…

I still have much editing to do for The Lonesome ending ( we can thank a cold for halting those plans days ago).

I’d say loose eta is later this weekend, or early next week. I have set up grounds for a sequel (via epilogue) incase I want to do one around Halloween, for Arte’s Frightfest.

Not Garrett specific but…Oscar’s character Jack is coming back!

Mojave AU news, the seeds for What’s the Price for a Soul? Have been set. The fics are not in the same universe, so if Tom appears it will be separate from the Lonesome universe. And i would space them apart.

It’s funny because I don’t love the movie. I get the premise but it could have been executed better. But i am endlessly inspired by the world within it.

In other WIP news i’m working on some updates for two other stories, all things on A03. All things that will be updated along the coming weeks. 💜

Ps: Queen of Poisons my baby, my love, has been removed from here, and the next week or so is your last chance to read it and get werewolf Ezra & Nyx before I take it off A03 too.

[tigerinkangel]

Literally this. I have not seen 1 (one) single pro A03 app agreement that asks for a festure that isn't already there with JUST the mobile app.

"It lets me access A03 without needing a browser--"

You can make any webpage into an "App" on Android and Apple phones, I'm sure Google ones as well. I guarantee you that half of the app is going is literally that. Its not an "app" access version, A03 is already mobile friendly, the app is just going to the webpage with overlays for adds and other bs.

"Oh but it lets me chages the look of the page, I can make the screen X colour and the text X colour and---"

You can already do that with base A03, its called Themes and there are a shitton of free to use ones on their website if you dont know HTML enough to make your own

"But it lets me download fics and read them offline--"

That is literally a feature on A03, any fic you read at the top where the options to select the view type, chapter select bookmark, etc there is a Download button. Use that, boom pdf of the fic (or other option, there are multi download file types you can choose from).

"But it lets me save fics a like in categories, so they are more organized than the Bookmark feature on A03..."

1) you can filter search your bookmarks like you can for searching for fic, so if you wanna save a fic for X pairing and read it again later, use the bookmark feature and then you can filter for X pairing In Your Bookmarks to find it when you feel like reading it (or any of your bookmarked fic for X pairing) again.

2) if you want to do this for offline downloaded fic, there is this wonderful things called Folders you can make in 99% of devices, Make one for downloaded fanfic on your device. Boom, organization for your downloaded fic that Doesnt Rely On An App Working Forever

"But it has a screen reader function and therefore is more accessible--"

like mentioned above, I can almost garentee that the App is probably using a generic free screen reader that will do as good of a job reading to you as the ones that come available with most webbrowsers these days (or are an extension you can download to your browser). Also Podfic are a thing, they are fantastic, and were VERY common in older fandoms (mid 2000s or before), if you cant find podfic for the fandom/pairing/fic you are looking for, then you can request it from fandom spaces, podfic is a great VA practice tool (and are just fun to make) so people should try making them more. A03 supports more than just written media for fic and people seem to keep forgetting that.

Like please, bring me reasons you think an app provides value and I will point you to a feature already available on A03 itself that does it already.

With the latest crap of someone making an unofficial ao3 app and actually charging people to use it… why do you want an ao3 app so badly? Why are you willing to pay for an otherwise free website that works fine in mobile browsers? I’m so confused. Like, y’all are willing to have that as a security risk? And pay for it? I don’t understand at all. I saw people on the OTW’s recent post about it arguing for the existence of this app instead of against it.

Also, the whole thing is just so shady. There’s someone out there making money off of tons of people’s free work. Not cool, guys. Not cool. Don’t support the app.

[thetentaclecommander]

The Buzzing of Flies

The Buzzing of Flies ________________________________________________ Rated M for violence and suggestive situations. Fandom: Resident Evil Main Ship: Brad Vickers/Gwen Parsons (OC) Side Ship: Trent Haddens (OC)/Gwen Parsons (OC) Implied Side Ships: Albert Wesker/Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield/Jill Valentine Chapters: 2/2 CW: past adult/teen (fake ID mention/implied in past snapshots; Brad had to have some colossal dirt on him to abandon his counter terrorist level team like that over a pack of 'rabid dogs' imo so this fic gives him a reason), age gap (21 and 35 at end of fic), Brad being a genuinely conflicted coward who was easily cowed into all his choices, on screen character deaths including one of a child, Nemesis being Nemesis, unplanned pregnancy/secret love child, paranoia as if Brad's life has been under extensive surveillance for years, blackmail, survivor's guilt (full tag list on AO3) Summary: Lots of plot filling in gaps between the AU and RE3 centering around Brad Vickers. ________________________________________________ Excerpt: “I could have made him stop. But, you chose to refuse my deal and so both of their blood is on your hands. Pity.” The voice on the pay phone reverberated with cold finality in his ear. Brad could only sink to his knees, the receiver swaying and echoing the droning dial-tone. XxxxX Thank God. I finally got onto the team. Finally, I have something good to write home about to ya, ma! Guess what? I get to fly like I've always said I would. Yeah, I can see you now, making that face. But I'm not a soldier, I just fly. The sky never hurt anyone. I feel like a free bird when I fly. Like an eagle, any plane glides easily in the sky under my hands. I can conquer anything as long as I can fly. And then I found a bluebird, dancing around in her bright skirts, her cheer as beautiful as her smile. Oh, I forgot to mention her- A hand quickly leans down to erase the last two sentences; before furiously balling up the paper before tossing it into the wastebasket. The new arrival met with a few other discarded letters to the cadence of a pen tapping on a wood surface. XxxxX 35364.vid The flicker of tracking lines almost detracted from the video; a man is seen skittishly looking around the small office. He picked up a framed picture off the desk while combing nervously through his brown hair. Strewn around the office were posters and plaques depicting RPD department insignia as well as one that stuck out brighter than the rest for the separate S.T.A.R.S. department. He had turned the small silver framed photo around in his visibly shaking hands – containing a small family shot with a large bear of a man sticking out prominently - As the man fiddled with the small picture in his hand, a reflection beamed the camera flooding it temporarily with lens flare. For a moment, the man glanced directly into the camera, trying to figure out what he was staring at. As he rose to glare closer, the door opened and the man could only turn towards the new visitor. The clip then began to track thicker lines across the screen, making either person hard to make out. (Continue reading The Buzzing of Flies on A03)